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Note that this story contains pain, watersports (urine - no scat), public humiliation, moderate electric shock torture and anal sex between two male characters who are anthropomorphic in nature. Both are consenting, but the one is slightly underage in some jurisdictions.

Note that while there are young child characters in the story, they aren't sexualized and they don't witness or perform sex acts. NOT PEDO.

Also note that the electrical torture employed in this story is highly unsafe and irresponsible, and should not be attempted in real life.

Enjoy.

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After his extra-judicial flogging, Paul had let Josh lie on his bed to recover while he himself had a shower.

The pain which the short sing-tail whip had rained down repeatedly in narrow fiery lines had subsided dramatically into a dull, hot burning. The whip had been very thin, and so its energy had been largely dissipated on the surface of Josh's skin - it hadn't had enough kinetic energy to cause significant bruising underneath. It felt as though some welts had formed, but no blood made it through the collie's thick, silky fur. There was no visible evidence that the flogging had occurred at all.

In any case, Josh the masochist lay curled on Paul's soft double bed, savouring the gentle waves of pain which rolled off his back like tropical waters onto a beach. The flogging itself had been the single most painful thing he'd ever experienced as part of "playing dog", and he was still not entirely sure whether he'd enjoyed or hated it. It had been too much too fast. Josh reflected that had he not been muzzled and half-choked, he may have broken and begged Paul to stop - which under the rules of the game they were playing was enough to stop the game. There was no special safeword - any coherent vocal request to stop was enough. However, lying there now... naked on Paul's bed, the feel of soft bedding against his fur contrasting dramatically with the harsh burning on his back, Josh did not feel like stopping the game at all.

One should remember that while Paul had been brought to orgasm by Josh's skilful muzzle, Josh himself had not yet been allowed that indulgence. His doghood lay pink and drooping; semi-erect against the cool linen of Paul's bed. Josh ached with desire - throbbed with it deep inside. However, the rules of the game stipulated that he could not come to orgasm without the specific permission of his master. Paul had certainly not denied him thus far out of forgetfulness.

Josh whined softly and curled up against the soft bedding. He could just see the silhouette of his master in the shower - what he wouldn't give to be in there with him, savouring his body in the steam as they had done many times before when not "playing dog". However, this was different. He was currently not playing the role of Paul's humanoid lover - an equal in love and friendship - but was playing the role of his loyal and obedient pet dog, and dogs don't take unto themselves the liberty of joining their masters in the shower. At least good dogs don't, and Josh wanted very much to be a good dog.

Paul eventually emerged from the shower and casually towelled himself off in the bedroom. Josh felt his penis harden, and he curled his toes and whined softly to himself. Paul glanced at him and smiled, and Josh wagged his tail - its silkiness padding softly against the bed.

Paul was well-built, as male lions tend to be. He wasn't chiselled like a professional weight-lifter, but he was well-built without being overweight, and he did possess respectable definition. Josh thought he was the sexiest creature in existence, as Paul himself no doubt thought about Josh.

Josh's penis hardened pink against the cool white sheets, and he chewed on his short leather leash in frustration.

Paul got dressed into shorts, sandals and a T-shirt. He turned to Josh, smiled, and patted his thigh above his knee to indicate that Josh should 'heel'. Josh complied exuberantly, leaping onto all-fours and jumping off the bed to join his master's side. (His wrists hurt as he landed on his hands, and he reminded himself to jump off furniture more carefully in future.)

Josh crawled over to Paul's side and "sat" as a dog would - a rather awkward position for a bipedal, as previously mentioned. He happily gazed up into his master's smiling face high above, and his tongue lolled out of the right side of his mouth. His tail brushed the floor quickly from side to side and he whined expectantly.

"Follow, boy"

His master held his short leash and led him out of the bedroom back towards the toy room. Josh felt a soft lump of dread drop into his stomach and begin to dissolve - surely his master wasn't going to pre-emptively punish him again? Paul heard his dog whine softly and felt him slow slightly.

"Don't worry, boy. You've had your conditioning for today. We're just going in there to get you a longer leash. Daddy's taking you for a quick walk on the beach!"

At this, Josh's apprehension was replaced with excitement. Going for a walk outside as Paul's dog already!

Once in the toy-room, Paul exchanged Josh's short leather leash for a longer one - one that was actually meant for walking real dogs. He also exchanged the regular leather collar Josh was wearing for an electric shock collar; one that uses 9V batteries and comes with a remote control. When one presses a button on the remote control, an electric shock of variable intensity is delivered to the wearer's neck via two metal prongs that penetrate through the fur. Paul (who was quite handy with hardware and electronics) had modified this particular collar slightly so that the default safety overrides were disabled to some extent. Most legitimate electric shock collars are limited in intensity to a shock that will merely hurt, and a maximum duration of no more than a few seconds. Paul's modified shock collar allowed for a shock that would cause muscle paralysis and total loss of co-ordination for as long as it was applied... And there was no time limit set on how long it could be applied. Once before, Josh had been exposed to its full might - it had caused him to fall to the ground twitching like a fish on a hook. He'd felt like he'd been hit by a car. Before the whipping he'd experienced earlier that day, it had been the most physically unpleasant thing he'd voluntarily undertaken. The modified collar could be as powerful as a taser, but like a taser, it did not cause real damage. It just hurt like hell.

Leash and collar installed, Paul slipped the shock collar's remote control into his pocket. Josh was somewhat relieved that Paul didn't feel the urge to test that the batteries still had juice in them - he still felt fragile after the whipping.

Paul found a green tennis ball in the toy room's footlocker, and he slipped it into his pocket with the remote control just before leading Josh out of the room and out of the apartment into the real world. He also grabbed a riding crop from the umbrella stand and let it swing casually from his free hand.

Josh was not ashamed of his body. The beach adjoining Paul's apartment block was a nudist beach, and he had spent quite a lot of time there - albeit irregularly. In fact, the walkway behind the beach was also a nudist area, and the apartment block which Paul lived in took a very relaxed attitude to people walking nude on premises, because there wasn't really anyone to complain - the building's apartments were overwhelmingly owned as vacation homes by people who spent most of the year inland, and it was mostly deserted in the off-season. In season, the building's proximity to the region's semi-famous nudist beach meant that it was exceedingly popular amongst the sexually-liberated, and exceedingly unpopular amongst the moralistic crowd. Currently it was late spring going onto early summer - nice and warm, but still generally "off-season", as there was no coincidence with school vacations or public holidays. At this time on a weekday, the beach would probably be quiet.

Nevertheless, Josh was not simply about to walk out naked onto a nudist beach. He was about to crawl out naked, on all-fours, held on a leash by a large lion. He was not embarrassed, as such, but he was somewhat apprehensive at the prospect of meeting someone strange in his present situation.

They made it to the elevator without meeting anyone. Paul pressed the "G" button and the old elevator clunked down the six floors to the ground. Josh sat obediently at his master's side, although he was somewhat less than thrilled about the fact that the white fur on his delicate naked bottom was touching the floor of a public elevator, and that his far more delicate penis was hovering half-erect mere inches above it. He was relieved when Paul pushed open the spring-loaded wooden door at the bottom and he could crawl out of the disgusting thing. On their way out, Josh noted that the building's humble lobby appeared deserted - they hadn't run into anyone yet who might take exception to their "playing dog".

This state of incognito was broken when they rounded the building - Josh's hands and knees thankful to exchange rough tarmac for soft green grass - and they came upon fellow residents patronising the building's swimming pool. A middle-aged vixen appeared to be asleep on one of the plastic deck chairs while two much younger cubs - a boy and a girl - splashed in the blue pool. The little vixen glanced towards Paul and Josh and gasped - quickly gesturing to her brother who also appeared bemused.

"Whatcha doing, uncle Paul? Who's that?"

Paul knew this fox family - who lived a floor down, directly below him - because aside from being one of the building's few other permanent residents, he had occasionally provided lifts to the two young ones for cash from their mother when he'd had the time. Incidentally, they were not taking advantage of the building's liberal attitude towards nudism. Few permanent residents did on a regular basis, ironically.

"Hi Matthew. Hi Theresa. This is my new dog, Josh. I'm just taking him for a walk. I'd introduce you, but he's a bit skittish around new people. Say hi to your mother for me when she wakes up."

At that, the mother lazily raised a paw to Paul and mumbled her salutations. Evidently she hadn't opened her eyes beneath her sunglasses.

"Hello Missus Daniel," Paul yelled as he and Josh began the descent down a flight of concrete steps which led to the walkway above the beach.

Josh's face felt hot under his fur. Paul descended the steep, rough concrete steps faster than Josh could crawl, and he lost his balance and slipped - grazing his arm on a step.

"Josh! Bad boy!"

Paul fished the remote control for Josh's collar out of his pocket and pressed a big red button on it briefly. Josh yelped loudly and jerked his head as fluttery electricity stung his neck - it was a fairly weak setting, but the muscles in his neck and jaw cramped briefly.

"Must daddy even teach you how to walk? Hurry up!"

Josh whimpered and struggled to his feet. He hurriedly, but carefully, negotiated the rest of the concrete descent to the beach.

The beach was long, wide and sandy, and as anticipated, deserted in front of Paul's apartment building. One could see the black spots of humanoids walking on the yellow sand far to the south, beyond the river estuary which spilled out into the sea, and formed a fairly convincing barrier to those who derive pleasure in walking for miles along the beachfront. To the north, a lagoon exchanged its murky liquids with Neptune about a mile or two up. Beyond the lagoon was miles and miles of coastal nature reserve. This geographic arrangement left the beach somewhat more private than most - it was usually only patronized by residents of the apartment buildings and hotels which fronted it directly, and the groups of nudist tourists which came from far and wide - but only at certain times of year. The sea itself was murky with churned sand and silt - a product of destructive waves caused by a cyclone thousands of miles away. (Something Josh had heard while half-asleep in geography class that self-same day.) This condition deterred boaters, surfers, swimmers, and any other form of recreational amphibian from taking to the water.

Presently, the beach was entirely deserted - the sun falling behind them had about another two or three hours of life left in it for the day. Josh reflected that it would have been the perfect day to lie alone with Paul in the warm sand, as they often did when the weather was as good as it currently was, or walk up and down the beachfront. However, he was currently Paul's dog, and Paul alone knew what they would be doing that afternoon...

They made their way down the wide beach towards the hard, wet sand which formed land's border with the sea. Josh silently cursed the hot, coarse grains of sand and sea-shells which abraded his by-now tired and weary palms and knees. They stopped shortly before the end of dry sand, and Josh obediently went through the effort of "sitting" by his master's heel.

Paul spent a brief moment surveying the windy sea-scene (as one is wont to do), before turning to Josh and unclipping his leash. He smiled at Josh and produced the green tennis ball from his pocket.

"Come on boy, come on!"

Paul spoke excitedly and brandished the ball above his head. Taking the cue, Josh panted and wagged his tail - his blue eyes following the ball. Paul threw it with gusto in a southerly direction - along the beach. The strong onshore wind from the sea blew it slightly inland as it flew.

Josh leaped onto his hands and knees and crawled as fast as he could - "bounded" would be a better term - after the flying green ball. It didn't take long for him to figure out that this type of movement - on all-fours, though loose beach sand - is not the most efficient way for a bipedal to move. He huffed and puffed through the sand - hot grains flying up into his face, and onto his pink penis, which felt less than sensual at this point.

Eventually he reached the tennis ball and took it in his jaw back to Paul. He arrived back panting. Dropping the ball at his master's feet, he "sat" and gazed up proudly into Paul's face.

"Good boy, good boy," Paul reassured him and ruffled his ears. Josh whined happily.

Something made Paul turn towards the steps leading up to the apartment building, and Josh followed his gaze. He could see two small fox cubs making their way down and waving to them.

"Well, well," Paul muttered.

"Looks like we've got company, buddy."

The two foxes who had been swimming in the pool earlier had evidently decided to join Paul and investigate his strange dog further.

"Uncle Paul," Matthew - the older of the two - hailed as they approached.

"We came to see your new dog!"

"Well, kids, this is Josh," Paul gestured calmly towards Josh as he 'sat' awkwardly on the sand panting, the tennis ball lying in front of him.

"He is a funny-looking dog..." Matthew didn't seem too sure about him.

"Are you sure he's a real dog? He looks like an anthro-dog to me. Are you allowed to keep anthro-dogs as pets? Mum always told me not to make fun of anthro-dogs because they look like real dogs and people keep real dogs as pets..."

"I think he's cute." Theresa declared and giggled. Josh felt himself blush slightly under his fur - he felt so silly.

"Thank you, Theresa." Paul said in the mock-politeness tone adults sometimes adopt for children.

"I also think he's cute, which is why I've adopted him. He may look a bit funny, but I assure you, Matthew, he's a real dog. Actually, I'm here on the beach training him."

"Training him to do what," Matthew, ever the inquisitor, enquired.

"Training him to fetch. You want to throw the ball for him, Matthew?"

"Sure," Matthew shrugged. Evidently still sceptical about Josh's dogness. He picked up the ball and threw it in the same direction Paul had - it only travelled about half the distance before landing.

Immediately Josh was up - clumsily bounding through the sand to retrieve the ball. He returned panting, and dropped the ball at Matthew's feet.

"He isn't very fast, is he?"

"Hmm," Paul reflected at the critical tone in young Matthew's voice.

"Bad dog, Josh! That was too slow!"

Paul pressed the button on the collar's remote and Josh yelped as the electricity caused the muscles in his neck to clamp as if there was a noose around it. He yowled with pain, and Paul depressed the button - Josh collapsed on the sand panting and whimpering.

"Wow!"

Now Matthew was impressed.

"What did you do?"

"I'm training him. That collar he's wearing gives him an electric shock when I press this button."

"That's so mean, " Theresa interjected and rushed to Josh's side - she stroked his ears and flank.

"Poor doggy..."

"That was cool, " Matthew exclaimed, now clearly impressed.

"Say, I've got an idea," Paul declared to the children.

"Matthew, is that watch you're wearing the really cool one you got for your birthday from your grandfather?" (Young Matthew had shown off his watch to any and all who were willing to listen. Among other things, it had a stopwatch function.)

"It sure is."

"Why don't you use your watch's stopwatch to time Josh's fetching? Let's say he should take... ten seconds to retrieve a ball. If he takes longer than that, then we shock him for as long as he took over ten seconds. If he takes shorter, then Theresa can rub his tummy for as long as he took shorter."

"Okay, that sounds fun!"

Matthew was enthusiastic. Theresa still looked like she felt a bit sorry for Josh, but apparently the possibility of rubbing his tummy swayed her and she also agreed. Josh himself felt positively horrified, but somehow he felt as though he really couldn't disobey his master at this point, and ruin the charade of actually being a real dog. The fact that these kids evidently thought he WAS a real dog made Josh feel somehow vindicated in his submissive charade, and he was overcome with a strange urge to please his master in front of these two strangers.

"I'll throw the ball, so it's fair."

Paul flung the ball on an inland course, and it travelled much further than Matthew's had. Matthew quickly pressed the timer, and it began to count down.

Josh panted there and back through the sand as fast as he could, but upon dropping the ball at Paul's feet - which was the cue for Matthew to stop timing - Matthew declared that it had taken him fourteen-point-four-five seconds.

"Naughty boy, Josh!"

Paul depressed the button on the remote for four seconds. Josh collapsed onto the sand and emitted a loud yelp. He was panting and whimpering when Paul released the button. Spasms from the shocks subsided quickly after the mild dose of current, but it left Josh with a strange feeling of light-headedness.

"Let's try again; sit up Josh!" Paul emphasised his point by smacking Josh on the bum with the riding crop he'd been carrying. Josh quickly scrambled to his feet, albeit somewhat apprehensively. He felt very strange, but it wasn't from the shocking - he felt as though he was obeying automatically, without consideration. What he was doing was not particularly erotic - and the presence of the children didn't help - but he felt a strange sense of fulfilment from blindly obeying his master's arbitrary orders.

"Let me throw the ball!"

Theresa evidently had her own concerns about Josh's well-being.

"No, don't let her! She'll cheat for him!" Matthew's accusation was poisonous.

"I'll let her throw this time, Matthew. It's only fair. You can throw next time if you want."

Theresa threw the ball energetically, but her technique left much to be desired... It did not travel far. Josh launched after it and returned it in less than ten seconds.

"Six-thirty-nine," Matthew announced glumly.

"She threw it softly on purpose."

"Now now, there's no need for that. She threw it as well as she could. You can rub Josh's tummy, Theresa."

Paul turned to Josh.

"Good boy, good boy!" He ruffled his ears.

"Play dead for Theresa, boy!"

Josh rolled over onto his back with his hands up in the air as a dog's paws would be, and Theresa rubbed his tummy.

"You are a cute doggy." She giggled as Josh's tongue lolled out of his mouth. He could not derive any sexual pleasure from what the little girl was doing to him, but it nevertheless felt "right" - that people should be allowed to pet him like an animal, because he *was* his master's animal.

"Only four seconds! Time's up!" Matthew the draconian announced.

"I don't want to throw the ball, Uncle Paul. You can throw the ball. But I want to shock him if he takes longer than ten seconds!"

"That's not fair!" Theresa cried indignantly.

"Now Theresa, you were allowed to throw the ball and pet Josh. It's only fair if Matthew gets to shock him - and only if he takes longer than ten seconds. Start timing, Matthew."

Paul intentionally threw the ball high and with the onshore breeze - it flew far, into the beach growth which extended out from the sub-tropical forest behind the beach. Josh whined, and took off after it as quickly as he could, but he was now tired and sore... He eventually reached the beach growth, but for the life of him he couldn't find the damned ball! He rooted around and dug desperately with his hands. Whining to himself, knowing the punishment that awaited him grew longer with every second. After what seemed like an age, he eventually found the accursed ball. Taking it in his jaws, he scrambled as fast as he could back to Paul and the fox kids - he panted after he dropped the ball and his heart pounded against his ribs - his eyes begged Paul not to inflict the punishment that he knew was coming.

"Ha! Thirty-seven, Forty-eight," Matthew declared with pure glee. Josh whined loudly.

"Shush, Josh! You're a bad boy! You took a very long time to find that ball! How do you expect to be a good dog if you can't fetch a ball for your master! You deserve the punishment you're getting!"

Paul adjusted some settings on the remote control to allow Josh a good chance of surviving his punishment. Then he handed it to Matthew.

"Only twenty-seven seconds now, mind you. When I say 'Go', press and hold down the big red button until I tell you to stop. Ready? Go!"

Matthew held down the button, and Josh jerked with the current that flew through his neck. He collapsed onto the sand and flopped like a dying fish. He yelped and whined and yelped again, and froth began to form at his mouth as the current coursed through him. His frantic yelping was to the back-drop of a gently buzzing current, and the sedate sound of the ocean waves crashing onto the beach. Paul and the two kids stood around and observed this pathetic spectacle. Theresa looked a bit unhappy, but she did not object; in fact she looked almost curious at the naked dog-boy writhing in the sand in the front of her. Matthew, on the other hand, giggled intermittently at Josh's flailing and frothing.

After what seemed like an age, Paul ordered Matthew to release the button, but Josh couldn't hear him - he could only hear the ringing in his ears, and his own frantic heartbeat and panting. He lay on his side in the sand, his tongue lolling out of his mouth and froth puddling around his muzzle. He smelled something resembling burning metal, and he found that he couldn't move very well.

"Bad dog, Josh! Bad boy!"

It took a while for Josh to realise why his master was scolding him - during his shock treatment, he had apparently been unable to control his bladder, and the sand around his legs was damp, along with the white fur on his thighs which had been stained yellow.

Matthew giggled.

"I guess you haven't properly house-trained him yet, Uncle Paul?"

"No, I guess not." Paul sounded genuinely disappointed.

"Anyway, looks like he's all tuckered out. I'd better take him home. See you kids sometime - you can help me train him again tomorrow maybe."

Paul picked Josh up and carried him up the beach to the simple showers provided for beach-goers to wash the sand from their fur. He dumped him unceremoniously under one of them, and opened the tap. Josh gasped as cold water struck him, and he felt that as well as washing some of the urine away, it helped him regain his senses from the half-minute shock he'd received. As rational thought returned to him, he began to wonder which had been worse - the whipping earlier that day, or the shocking now on the beach in front of laughing children. Being Paul's dog had certainly not been easy so far.

After a brief soaking under the shower, Paul shut off the tap and lightly jerked Josh's leash.

"Come on, on your feet... You really are a dirty dog. I'll have to give you a bath at home to clean you properly. And I'll also have to punish you for weeing on yourself."

Josh couldn't believe his ears. Punished again, for the third time in one afternoon? He whimpered mournfully, but struggled to his "feet" and crawled sadly after his master back to the apartment building, into the elevator and up to the apartment. The strange thing was that while, on one level, the fear of pain did cause him to dread what was coming, the real reason for his sadness was the fact that he was not pleasing his master - he felt that he was being a bad dog.

Once back in the apartment, Paul led Josh to the kitchen and ordered him to "sit" once they got there. Josh's dripping on the floor was largely incidental, as it was tiled.

"The punishment for urinating in such a disgusting way is no drinking water for two days," Paul announced as he fished two dog's bowls from a cupboard and placed them on the counter. He filled the one with 100 grams (measured) of real dog food from a large bag, and placed it on the floor.

"Instead of water, you will drink the very thing that you were naughty with."

With that, Paul placed the other dog bowl onto the floor besides the first one, lowered his shorts and urinated into it as accurately as he could - filling it up almost to the brim.

Josh was astounded. Surely his master couldn't be serious? There was no way...

Paul raised his pants again.

"Eat your supper and drink all the wee. Every last scrap and drop. If you don't, I will whip you until you bleed enough for you to drink that."

Josh whined loudly and gazed into his master's eyes - visually pleading with him not to do this to him.

"Now!"

Paul's voice was stern, and he grabbed the collar's remote-control and brandished it to emphasise his point.

"Now, or I will shock you until you vomit."

Josh lowered his ears and cried.

"Eat your food first, then drink the wee to wash it down."

Josh lowered his nose to the dog-food apprehensively. This was another surprise he had not anticipated - real dog food - but it paled in comparision somewhat with what he was expected to drink afterwards.

Josh began to eat the dry kibbles. He reflected that they tasted a lot like they smelled - strong, unpleasant, salty... He crunched them slowly, stealing glances up at the angry face of his master leaning against the counter above him. It was bad, but what he really feared was the beverage waiting to wash it down. He didn't know then that the 100 grams of dog food would be all he'd be eating - twice daily - for quite some time.

Josh finished eating, and licked the remaining crumbs in the bowl half-heartedly. He looked up at his master and whined - mutely begging him to waive dessert. Paul was not interested.

"Now drink. Drink it all, or I will tie you up and shock you the whole night."

Josh knew there was no use. His master was not going to be merciful in this instance. Tears rolled down from his eyes as he lowered his muzzle to the cooling, golden urine. The smell was enough to make him wretch.

He lowered his tongue to the warm liquid and began to lap it up. He reasoned that it wouldn't be as bad if he did it quickly, and managed to swallow a few good mouthfuls before his gag reflex kicked in and he spat a mouthful back into the bowl and retched - but successfully avoided vomiting up what he'd already swallowed.

He felt Paul's riding crop crack twice over his shoulders, and he yelped with pain and surprise.

"Bad, disgusting dog! DRINK IT! You're so useless and disobedient; I should just hang your worthless carcass and make clothes out of your fur!"

Whimpering and crying, Josh began to lap up the urine again. He felt his stomach turn, but with all his might, he managed to suppress his gag reflex and continue to slowly swallow all of the yellow fluid.

Imagine the most pungent odour of urine you've ever borne witness to - a particularly neglected public bathroom at a train station, perhaps, or an abandoned house lived in by one hundred male cats. Amplify that by one thousand times and imagine it rolling over your tongue and down your throat. Josh's eyes ran with tears. He felt totally and utterly overwhelmed and dominated as the most powerful, distilled form of his master's scent ran down his throat. It was as if his master was marking Josh as his territory by forcing him to drink his urine and his dominant male scent.

Eventually, Josh finished the bowl of urine and painstakingly licked up all the drops which had landed on the floor. He reluctantly licked his chops clean of any remnants of the foul liquid, and looked up at his master - tears still hanging in his eyes.

To Josh's surprise, Paul's angry expression had faded, and he was now smiling again.

"Good boy. You drank all your medicine. You're a clever dog to know it will make you better."

Paul gently ruffled Josh's ears, and Josh wagged his tail. His master did still love him after all.

"You're all dirty, though. Let's go and get you clean."

Paul led Josh to the bathroom. Once there, he stripped Josh of his collar (accursed thing) and leash, and himself of his clothes. Once the shower water was warm, he led Josh in by holding the scruff of his furry neck.

The warm water felt wonderful against poor Josh's bruised and weary body. Josh loved the feel of hot water striking his thick fur, and slowly and unevenly seeping through to his skin beneath.

Paul lathered Josh's body with a bar of soap, and gently massaged it into the fur all over his body - on his back, chest, tummy, arms, legs and groin. Josh felt as though the aches and pains he had suffered that day were being drawn out like dirt by his master's soapy massage. He groaned with pleasure as his master cupped his white-furred balls, and he lay on his side in the shower - slowly rolling over onto his back and begged. He let the shower water spray into his open muzzle to rid himself of the taste of urine, so as not to be repulsive to his master.

Paul rubbed the thick soapy foam into the fur on Josh's tummy. He worked his way down over his slim puppy-dog to the hard, knotted penis which hovered above his snow-white tummy. Paul tweaked the hardened knot lightly between two clawed fingers, in reply to which Josh moaned and gently thrust his hips upwards.

"Good doggy... Good doggy," Paul soothingly crooned as he caressed his pet in the warm, soapy water.

Bath-products and water lubricated his finger, and he gently wormed it into Josh's exposed, pink tale-hole. Josh whined in reply, his ring tightening involuntarily around Paul's invading digit.

"Good doggy. Such a good little bitch for his daddy."

Paul extracted his finger slowly, which resulted in another needful whine and thrust from Josh. Transparent pre-cum oozed out of Josh's hovering pink penis, and connected it with a fine silvery trail to a dollop of it on his belly.

Paul eased his hard, spiny penis into Josh's tail-hole, as he had done multiple times before. He knew that he had to be slow and gentle to avoid hurting Josh, who was much smaller than him. He figured Josh had had enough pain for one day.

Josh moaned with pleasure as Paul slowly thrusted his large lion-hips, driving his coarse feline penis into Josh's tight tail-hole, and hitting all the right spots on its way in and out.

Josh came before Paul did - a stream which flew from his engorged dog-cock, up all the way to strike his muzzle and face. He whined and panted as orgasm engulfed him, and Paul came seconds later - pumping his seed into his little pet.

Lying there, warm and wet in Paul's shower with Paul pumping his warm seed into him, Josh felt a strange and profound sense of fulfilment overcome him. He was his master's pet. He was his master's little bitch in heat. He was the omega male, and loved being it. He whimpered as Paul's orgasm finished, and the thick lion-cock was slowly withdrawn.

Paul crawled over to whisper into Josh's ear.

"So. Do you want to carry on playing?"

Josh just nodded slowly. He nodded, and then turned his head to lick Paul's face happily - his wet tail sloshing in the water beneath them.

Paul smiled, and stroked his pet's tummy in the warm and the wet.

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Sorry if it was a bit long, but hopefully it wasn't boring. ;)