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Harvey 2 (by Mr Foxy Paws)

'Hey Frodo, you remember that guy doing a PhD on sexual psychology at Cambridge University?'

Frodo, who had been lying on the sofa with his left cheek resting on his master's lap as they both watched television, lifted his head.

'Wruffvy?' asked Frodo.

'Yes, Harvey. Well I got a letter from him last week. He says that it's standard practice to have a follow-up appointment with anybody who goes for a psychological review. We agreed that you'd go and see him again tomorrow.'

Frodo sat up, a flicker of anxiety crossing his face.

'It's OK boy,' said Rupert, stroking the dalmatian's head. 'Harvey said it was purely routine, nothing to worry about. And you did have a good time, didn't you?'

Frodo half shrugged; it was fair to say that he did have some good memories from his last visit.

'Anyway, little pup, it's all booked for nine o'clock tomorrow. I didn't want to tell you earlier, in case it made you nervous, but the letter I received said that you must achieve an orgasm exactly twelve hours before the appointment, and then not again until you see Harvey. It's five to nine now.'

A smile painted itself across Frodo's face.

'And because I feel just a teensy bit guilty about all of this,' continued Rupert, 'I thought that I should offer you some help.'

Frodo raised an eyebrow, not quite believing his furry dalmatian ears.

'Hey, don't worry boy, you can return the favour afterwards. Now, roll on to your back and open that fursuit of yours, I fancy myself a bit of dog.'

*

'You ready Frodo?' called Rupert.

Frodo trotted down the stairs.

'Ah, perfect, all suited up. You showered well?'

Frodo nodded.

'You shaved thoroughly?'

Frodo nodded again.

'Perfect. What about a collar? Think you need one?'

Frodo shook his head.

'Hmm, really? You'll behave off the leash?'

Frodo nodded, but Rupert hesitated.

'Well I do trust you,' said Rupert, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, 'but this is a formal occasion. It's Cambridge University, boy. You really should have a collar, for the dress code. The only question is, which?'

Frodo walked over to the coat hooks beside the front door, and selected a bright maroon leather studded collar; he offered it to Rupert.

'No, no, I didn't mean which collar. I mean which type of collar. Neck or cock and balls?'

Frodo instinctively held his mitted paws over his crotch.

'Frodo! Bad dog! Remove those paws at once.'

Frodo hung his head, and dropped his paws by his side.

'It's my choice, not yours, Frodo. You should know that by know. And you've not been on your cock leash for a few weeks now; you need to stay accustomed to it, hey?'

Frodo, his head still bowed, nodded.

Rupert opened the top drawer of a small cabinet below the coat hooks, and removed a selection of small chrome rings. One was plain, one had metal studs around the inside, and one had 'Frodo at your service' engraved around it. Rupert passed the studded one to Frodo. 'Here boy.'

Frodo took the studded cock ring in his paw, opened his crotch zip and reached inside for his dog-hood. The studded cock ring was only ever used for punishment, and he deserved it for having covered his genitals at the thought of being on a cock leash.

'OK, OK, OK. That's enough Frodo. Hand it back.'

Frodo looked up.

'It was just a test. To make sure you know your place. We'll go for the neck collar.'

'Wruff,' barked Frodo with relief.

'But disobey me again, boy, and it'll be studded cock ring or chastity for a week. OK?'

'Wuff,' nodded Frodo, taking the maroon collar and fixing it around his neck.

Rupert clipped a long chain leash onto the collar's D-ring, and led Frodo out to the car.

*

'Right, boy, it's just a five minute walk from here,' said Rupert as he switched off the engine. Frodo looked out from his caged section at the rear of their estate car. Rupert had parked close to the university and Frodo could see dozens of students making their way to the ancient academic buildings.

Rupert got out of the car and went to open the boot. Frodo stayed sitting on his rug.

'It's only five minutes, boy, and it's not as if you're buck naked now is it?'

Frodo didn't move.

'Look, boy,' said Rupert, reaching in to his pocket. 'You either hop down now and I'll take you by the leather neck collar, or' - and here Rupert opened his palm - 'I'll personally fit this cock ring and lead you by that.' Rupert paused, then added: 'I know which I'd prefer.'

Frodo hopped down on to the road.

'Leash?' asked Rupert.

Frodo bent down, used his mouth to pick up the leather hand-loop at the end of his chain leash, and offered it to his master.

'Good boy. It'll be quicker if you walk on your hind legs, not all fours. Come on.' Rupert gave the leash a slight tug, and Frodo followed his master. All around them, students stopped and stared at the curious sight, many using their phones to take photographs.

*

'Ah, here we are,' said Rupert, knocking on the door.

'Come in,' called a voice from inside.

Rupert opened the door and led Frodo into Harvey's consulting room.

'Ah, Frodo, so pleased to see you. And Rupert, too!'

'Yes,' said Rupert. 'I think you saw Malcolm last time? He's moved away and I own Frodo now.'

'No problem, no problem,' said Harvey. 'What's important is that Frodo's here. I just want to run a few tests to check that our last session didn't have any negative impact on him. And, um, well ...'

'And um well what?' asked Rupert.

'Wruff, wrrhat?' asked Frodo, his doggy instinct making him wary of the tone in Harvey's voice.

'Frodo's such an interesting case that I've used him as the basis for an assignment that I've given to my students, and - if it's OK with you - I'd like them to be involved in some of the tests we're doing today?'

'I've no problems with that,' said Rupert. 'You, boy?' he asked Frodo.

'Wrro,' said Frodo, shaking his head. He'd half expected talk of being neutered.

'Excellent. Well in that case, all sorted, all sorted. Just come back around six o'clock this evening, OK?'

'You'll look after him?' asked Rupert. 'No permanent damage?'

'No, no, not at all,' said Harvey.

'No changing him into a cat?' joked Rupert.

Frodo let out a loud whine, and took a few paces back.

'Is he OK?' asked Harvey.

'Just don't mention the C-word,' said Rupert.

'Cunt?' asked Harvey.

'Cat,' said Frodo.

'How about pussy?' asked Harvey.

'Is that all you psychologists think about?' asked Rupert, laughing.

Harvey smiled. 'See you at 6pm, Rupert,' he said.

They shook hands, and Rupert left.

*

'The lecture hall's just through here,' said Harvey, opening a door and leading Frodo on his chain. The dalmatian pup found himself on a large dais in front of some hundred young students. Whispers fluttered around the auditorium like a host of expectant butterflies.

'Sssh, quieten down, class,' said Harvey. 'Many of you have met Frodo before, some weeks ago,' he continued. 'He's here again so that we can review his sexual psychological health. You OK Frodo?'

Frodo, sitting down by Harvey's side, looked up. He wriggled his collar with a paw; Rupert had chosen a heavily-chained leash which, while looking impressive, did cause some collars to chafe his neck. 'Ah, right. Do you remove it, or shall I?' asked Harvey.

Frodo unbuckled the collar and passed it to Harvey. The pup rubbed his neck, then he pointed at his mouth.

'Thirsty?' asked Harvey.

Frodo nodded: the bright auditorium spotlights weren't ideal for his fursuit.

'Here,' said Harvey, filling a glass with water from the lectern and holding it out to Frodo who took a wary step backwards. 'What?' asked Harvey. Using his paw, Frodo drew a small circle on the floor. 'Hey?' asked Harvey. Frodo bent down and pretended to lap. 'Ah, you want a dog bowl?' asked Harvey. Frodo shrugged. 'Sorry, I've not got one here,' said Harvey. Frodo waited, quietly, expectantly. Harvey held out the glass again, and Frodo whimpered. 'What?' asked Harvey, and then: 'Oh, you need my permission? Yes, Frodo, that's why I'm holding out the glass. It's not a trick. Of course it's OK for you to drink from it, because I've not got a bowl here.' Frodo took the glass and drank heartily.

'Right then, my darling students,' said Harvey, turning to his class. 'What would you do first, as part of your clinical review of Frodo?'

'I think he should be naked,' said Jim, a young lad in the front row.

'And why's that?' asked Harvey.

'Well, first of all, the poor mutt's baking,' said Jim. 'But also because clothes and ... and ... and furry costumes can give their wearer's a different sense of identity; you need them naked, exposed, so you're dealing with the real them.'

'Good, good,' said Harvey. 'And anything else? ... Anyone? Chris?'

'So you can see their state of arousal. And, of course, arouse them, if necessary,' replied Christopher.

'Yes, absolutely. It's always important, early on, to get your subject naked. So, Mr Frodo, please oblige.'

Frodo unzipped his costume and stepped out of it, removed his mitts and took off his furry head; then he sat, alert and straight-backed, waiting for more instructions. A few of the girls, and not a few boys too, who had been away for Frodo's last visit to the university, gazed transfixed at his proudly firm dog-hood.

'Right, next steps?' asked Harvey.

'Take his vitals,' said Alan.

'Meaning?' asked Harvey.

'Measure him,' said Alan. 'Length, diameter, firmness, size of sack, things like that.'

'Well done, yes. The next step is to make sure we have up-to-date records of his physique.' Harvey paused. 'So? Alan? You might need to do this one day, come on down!'

'Sir?' asked Alan.

'Yes, Alan, come on. No time like the present. All the equipment you should need is in that brown leather case beside the lectern.'

Alan got up from his seat and walked down towards the platform.

*

'I've never measured a dog before,' said Alan.

'Have you measured anybody before?' asked Harvey.

'Only himself!' called a voice from back of the auditorium.

'He's all yours,' said Harvey, ignoring the heckle, and gesturing to Frodo who had remained sitting calmly his side.

Alan picked up a tape measure and looked at Frodo's doggy cock, jutting up firmly between the dalmatian's legs. 'I can't reach it, sir,' he said.

Harvey sighed. 'You need to tell your subject what to do; how to sit, or stand; whether to breathe in, or out; whether to suck, or blow; whether to shake, or stir. Frodo!' he called, 'best lie down on your back for young Alan here.'

Frodo lay down on his back, and Alan approached with the coiled tape measure.

Frodo closed his eyes, and felt the young man's hands on his cock. They were shaking. He felt one end of the measure being pushed into his pubis, and the tape being laid out along the length of his rigid erect cock. Alan called out the measurement. Next, Frodo felt the tape being wound around the base of his doggy member, and Alan called out the diameter at the base of the dalmatian's cock. After that, Frodo felt his cock-head being measured; he found it had not to squirm with all the attention that he was getting.

'Sir!?' called Alan, anxiously

'That's just precum, Alan. Ignore it.'

'Yes sir,' said Alan.

'Hmm,' said Harvey, looking down. 'There's quite a bit though.' Harvey bent down, squeezed the pup's member between his thumb and forefinger, scooped up a wad of fresh precum and held it to Frodo's lips. 'Frodo?' he asked. Frodo lifted his head and licked Harvey's fingers. 'Good, sorted. As you were, Alan, carry on.'

Alan continued taking further measurements of Frodo's dog-hood and doggy-sack. He mixed some chemicals to form a special rubber paste, pulled back the pup's foreskin and applied the material, holding it still for a minute until it set into a fixed but rubbery cast. Then he pulled the pup's ball sack, measuring its length and width, using calipers to gauge the size of both the pup's orbs. Frodo winced.

'Careful,' admonished Harvey. 'Else you might just find a dalmatian's jaws around your own nads, and then you might find you've not got any nads at all.'

Alan was more careful after that; much more careful. Then Alan asked Frodo to sit up, and hung a series of weights from the tip of his proud puppy organ, in order to check the dalmatian's muscle strength. Next he applied a cage of wires around the length of Frodo's member, adjusting the tension between two bars so that the cage tried to bend but was prevented from doing so by the firmness of the dalmatian's cock. When Alan saw Frodo start to grimace slightly, he took the reading off a small dial and then released the tension.

'Impressive,' said Harvey, on hearing the results. 'Very impressive.'

'All done, sir,' said Alan.

'Really? All his vitals?' asked Harvey.

'Yes, sir,' said Alan.

'Ring size?' asked Harvey.

'Ah,' said Alan.

Harvey lifted a bright orange butt plug from the leather case. The rubber cone was marked with a series of straight and diametric lines.

'Up on all fours, doggy,' said Alan. Frodo got up on all fours. 'Part those lovely cheeks for us,' asked Alan. Frodo reached back and spread his cheeks, then felt the dry rubber tip of the plug searching out his puckered puppy sphincter.

'Whrube?' said Frodo anxiously, turning his head to look back at the student. 'Whrube?'

'OK, OK. Just wait there a second, Alan,' said Harvey.

Alan paused, the plug's nose inserted an inch into Frodo's rear.

'Sir?' asked Alan.

'Forgotten anything?' asked Harvey.

'I'm doing it, sir. His ring size, sir,' said Alan.

'How would you like that up your hind quarters, Alan, without something to ease it?'

'Ah,' said Alan.

'Ah indeed,' said Harvey, tossing Alan a tube of lube.

Frodo soon felt Alan's fingers apply liberal and very welcome doses of lube in and around his back puppy passage, after which the tapered butt plug slid easily into his tail hole. Alan twisted it a couple of times, pushing gently a little further, and then - wary of inflicting any more pain - he called out dalmatian's ring size based on the last visible concentric circle etched into the rubber.

'OK, thank you Alan. That lube's important, you know. Forget it again, and one day I might just make you our lubeless guinea pig, and we'll figure out the size of your ring by how much you squeal.' Harvey smiled at his own joke. 'Now, back to your seat.' Alan, blushing, hurried back to his chair.

Harvey removed the plug from Frodo.

'OK, my lovelies, what next?' Harvey asked his class.

*

Darren raised his hand. 'Obedience?' he asked.

'Yes, it's important to check obedience,' agreed Harvey. 'Come and have a go, Darren.'

Darren left his seat and walked down to join Harvey and the dalmatian.

'He's all yours,' said Harvey.

'Down, boy,' said Darren.

Frodo lay flat on the ground.

'Roll over, boy,' said Darren.

Frodo rolled over on to his back.

'Beg, boy,' said Darren.

Frodo got up, sat on his haunches, knees slightly apart (with cock jutting forwards), back straight, front forelegs held out, paws hanging down.

'Heel,' said Darren, and walked around the platform. Frodo followed him.

Darren dipped a hand into his pocket and felt a pencil eraser. 'Fetch,' he said, throwing the eraser across the floor. Frodo ran after it, picked it up in his mouth, returned to Darren and dropped it at the young man's feet.

'Play dead,' said Darren.

Frodo rolled onto his back, legs in the ear, head to one side, tongue flopped out.

'He seems pretty good,' said Darren.

'Yes, yes he does,' agreed Harvey. 'At least for the basics. Hmm, I'd like four volunteers for the next test please.' A forest of hands shot into the air. 'Tony, Sean, Philip and Ralph,' said Harvey. The four lads walked down to join their friend Darren. Harvey gathered them into a small group, and whispered some instructions.

'Frodo, stay,' said Darren. 'Stay, boy, and shut your eyes.'

Frodo did as he was told and lay still, waiting, listening. He heard the unmistakable sound of a pair of flies being undone, followed by another; then a third, and finally a fourth. He heard the shuffling of feet or the floor around him, four humans positioning themselves about his prone body.

'Stay, boy,' reminded Darren.

And then the first stream hit him, on the cheek. Warm, and wet, and yellow. It trickled down his neck, a small yellow river leaving a slug-like ticklish trail behind. Then a second stream landed on his torso, burning hot, waving back and forth, back and forth, from his neck to his crotch, and from his crotch back to his neck. The bitter lurid liquid ran down between his legs, over his cock and around his ball sack. Next the third stream landed, directly on and around his cock, and then journeyed up and down his legs, leaving wet itchy trails. That's three, thought Frodo. Four zippers undone; three streams. Where would the next one -

Frodo felt a shadow fall over his head, at the same time that he had the impression of somebody kneeling. Kneeling right beside his head. Then, from a few inches away, he felt the strongest stream of piss yet, directed at his face and his mouth. Instinctively, Frodo licked his lips, tasting the lad's bitter-sweet piss; the dalmatian's cock twitched in response, and Frodo licked his lips once more, then opened his mouth. The solid jet, which had been working its way over Frodo's hair and upper ear, and across one cheek, and around and under the chin, swiftly and obligingly diverted to the pup's open mouth. Frodo swallowed, licked and swallowed. It was, the dalmatian thought, the sweetest piss that he had ever tasted; sweeter than the most expensive wine or fine brandy; it was ambrosia. Then, as suddenly as they had started, the four streams, one after the other, turned to a splatter, a shake of drops, and then ... nothing.

'Darren?' asked Harvey.

'He stayed, sir,' said Darren.

'Good,' said Harvey. 'You can return to your seats, gentlemen,' he added.

'What else might we want to check?' asked Harvey.

*

'Whether he's a sub or dom, or versatile,' somebody called.

'Who was that?' asked Harvey.

'It's Jake, sir,' said the voice.

'Well done, Jake. Yes, it's important to know how he deems his status. Come and join me, Jake.'

Jake left his seat and hurried on to the stage.

'He's all yours,' said Harvey.

'Err,' said Jake.

'A problem?' asked Harvey.

'I'm straight,' whispered Jake.

'Ah,' said Harvey. 'It's a good job I allowed for that. I'd like you all to meet Victor. Victor's an Irish Wolfhound.' Harvey signalled to his assistant Laura who had been sitting on the end of the front row; she disappeared out of a side door and returned a few moments later, a large Irish Wolfhound following her on a leash. She led the dog to Harvey, then returned to her seat.

The Wolfhound bent its snout and sniffed the prone, piss-covered Frodo.

'Frodo,' said Harvey. 'Fuck Victor.'

Frodo sat up, but Victor still towered over him.

'Fuck Victor, Frodo. Take him from behind.'

Frodo looked at Victor. Victor growled; a low, throaty, rumbling, quietly threatening sound.

Frodo shuffled around, to get behind Victor, but the Wolfhound kept turning to keep facing Frodo, pulling back his lips and baring his fangs.

'Fuck him, boy, he's all yours,' said Harvey.

Frodo hesitated, the final conceding sign of defeat. Victor leapt forward and pushed Frodo to the ground, and - as Frodo rolled on to his front in an attempt to crawl away - the heavier Wolfhound pinned him down, his jaws clamping gently but very firmly around Frodo's neck.

'I'd be careful, Frodo, those jaws could crush the neck of another dog,' said Harvey.

'Wrruf?' said Frodo.

Harvey bent down so that his face was a few inches away from Frodo's. 'It's your call,' he said. 'I think we've established the dominant and the submissive, haven't we? I promised Rupert you wouldn't be harmed, and I'm true to my word. I can easily order Victor to let you go now, if you like.' Here, Harvey looked up to confirm that penetration hadn't yet started. 'I can easily call him off, now. But if you're truly submissive, and truly know your place among even other dogs, well you might think it's the correct doggy ethic to let Victor here enjoy his prize. But it's totally your call, Frodo.'

Frodo blinked.

Behind him, the Irish Wolfhound, paws on Frodo's shoulders, stood waiting for a sign from Harvey.

The class looked on, in total silence. Jake, still standing nearby, held his breath.

On the wall of the lecture theatre, a second hand ticked its slow circle around the face of a clock.

Frodo blinked again, then raised his butt in the air, in total submission. His cock, fully erect with foreskin tautly pulled back, stabbed forwards, hugging his stomach, riding on top of the pup's heavily swinging balls.

'I think you might need this, to avoid any mess,' said Harvey, taking a silver foil packet from his pocket, tearing it open, retrieving a condom and reaching forward to unroll it the length of Frodo's member. The young pup felt the rubber cling tightly to his engorged pup-hood, only adding to his sexual tension.

Harvey nodded at Victor, then backed away.

For the rest of his life, whenever he told the story, Jake always shuddered as he recalled and recounted the smile of satisfaction which seemed to form on the Wolfhound's face.

Frodo, buck naked, on all fours, in front of an entire lecture theatre of students, felt the giant Irish Wolfhound mount him from behind. In the distance, Harvey was talking to his class; a chain of words about dominance and submission, of tops and bottoms, of versatility and switches, of humans and canines, of packs, of alphas and betas and runts. But the words were all lost to Frodo, whose only focus was the massive and rapidly knotting Wolfhound dog-cock that was ravaging his dalmatian tail hole. The sound of the panting Wolfhound, the weight of the dog's paws on his shoulders, the roughness of his leather pads and slight scratch of his claws, the pounding thrusts sending waves of shock and ecstasy through his body, the feel of the Wolfhound's underbelly fur on his back, and the exquisite pain-pleasure of the knot, filled Frodo's mind with a delirium of delight. Finally, Frodo was half conscious of the Wolfhound firing his load; two, three, four times. The great Wolfhound slumped forward, visibly exhausted, and Frodo, too, slumped forward and lay on the ground, his condom filled to bursting with warm precum; dog and pup lay together, one on the other, knotted, pleasured and panting.

'I think now's a good time to break for lunch,' said Harvey. 'It may be a while before Frodo's free, and then he needs a shower and we need somewhere to empty all that precum. If you could all be back here in an hour?'

*

'Right, class, welcome back. I hope you all had a good lunch. Victor and Frodo parted on good terms, you'll be pleased to know; Frodo's had a shower and I've had the podium washed. So... What other aspects are important in sexual psychology?'

'Self control?' asked Ben.

'Yes, self control. Either by oneself, or with a partner. Let's see how you might test Frodo's self control, Ben. Come and join us.'

Ben left his seat and walked down to Harvey and Frodo.

'OK, Frodo, beg,' said Ben. 'I need to see your cock.'

Frodo assumed the begging position, and Ben noted the firmness of the pup's dick.

'Right. Hmm. You're almost ready to fire, hey, boy? Did you knock one off over lunch?'

Frodo shook his head.

'OK, on your hind legs then, boy,' said Ben.

Frodo stood up, and Ben reached down to the dalmatian's crotch and gently cupped the pup's balls. Frodo's cock twitched.

'Is that good?' asked Ben.

Frodo nodded.

Ben fondled the pup's balls.

Frodo stiffened, his breathing growing heavier.

'You like that too?' asked Ben.

Frodo nodded, then shook his head, then nodded.

'You mustn't cum, though, boy,' said Ben. 'Cumming is not allowed. Do you understand?' And, on the final question, Ben squeezed his hand gently. Frodo winced, and nodded.

Ben knelt down, held Frodo's doggy cock in one hand, and blew on it. Frodo whimpered.

'Watch me,' said Ben. Frodo looked down. Ben stuck out his tongue, moved his head closer, and with the very utmost tip, Ben licked the head of Frodo's pup-hood. The dalmatian whined, and stepped from foot to foot, trying to ease the tension without moving.

'What's this? Are you getting excited boy?' asked Ben, wiping some precum onto a finger and then standing up. 'What's this, little pup?' he asked, leaning his face in towards Frodo. Frodo felt the warmth of Ben's cheek near his; he smelt Ben's aftershave, and he smelt Ben's sweat. He knew, also, that he was smelling Ben's pheromones, but at some subconscious level that he would never fully be able to master. 'Is this yours, pup?' asked Ben. Frodo nodded. Ben, his finger and face inches from Frodo's, lifted the finger to his own mouth and took a lick. 'It tastes good, boy. Very good.' Even the sound of Ben's voice; his quiet, husky, sexy voice, was arousing to Frodo. 'Do you want ... some?' asked Ben. 'I think you're ... gagging for it, aren't you?' asked Ben. Frodo nodded. 'Open those little puppy lips, then,' said Ben. Frodo parted his lips, and Ben inserted his finger. Frodo wrapped his tongue around the digit, which Ben slid in and out, in and out. 'There, all gone,' said Ben, wiping his wettened finger around Frodo's lips. 'My,' said Ben, looking down, 'you are hard, aren't you pup?' Frodo nodded. Ben moved around to stand behind Frodo, resting his head on Frodo's right shoulder. Again, Frodo felt the warmth of Ben's cheek against his own. He also felt something hard pressing against his butt; Ben was standing close, tight behind him. 'You're not going to cum, then?' Ben breathed into Frodo's ear. Frodo shook his head. 'No?' said Ben, starting to lick Frodo's ear. The pup shuddered. 'Really, no?' asked Ben, reaching down and forwards to hold Frodo's upstanding cock. Frodo stood on his hind legs, buck naked in front of the class, with Ben standing right behind him, Ben's cock evidently hard in the young lad's trousers, eager to escape, pressing hard into the dalmatian's butt, with Ben's head on Frodo's shoulder, and Ben's hand holding Frodo's cock. 'You're pretty restrained, pretty well trained, aren't you ... boy?' said Ben, stressing the word boy. Frodo gulped and nodded.

'That's probably enough,' said Harvey. 'More than enough, I think, Ben. You've proved your point.' Harvey nodded at the ground by Frodo's feet; the pup hadn't cum, but a splattering of precum provided clear evidence of his arousal.

'But I enjoy edging, sir,' said Ben.

'That's as maybe, but this is a scientific study Ben. You've proved Frodo's restraint - I've been watching and he's not touched himself once. However he needs to climax now, before we can move on.'

'Yes sir, if you insist sir,' said Ben, going around to kneel in front of Frodo.

'No, Ben, I didn't mean that you -'

'If it's in the name of science, sir,' said Ben, taking hold of Frodo's pup-hood.

'Yes, Ben, but Frodo is perfectly -'

The student hold of Frodo's pup-hood and gently licked it, first the tip and then along the length of the shaft; finally he deep-throated the dalmatian's doggy pride.

Frodo looked down at Ben, across at Harvey, then back down at Ben, as his mind and pup-hood finally conceded defeat and he fired his dalmatian spritzer down Ben's throat.

Ben swallowed, stood up, lifted Frodo's chin with one finger, looked into his eyes, quietly said, 'Best load I've ever tasted. So sooo goddamn sweet, you gorgeous beast,' then returned to his seat.

*

'Right, well time's getting on,' remarked Harvey. 'Any more for any more? What else could we check?'

'His potency?' asked Chris.

'By which you mean?'

'How soon he's ready to fire again?' said Dave.

'Yes, absolutely.'

Dave got up and went down to join Harvey and the dalmatian.

'So what do I do?' asked the student.

'Whatever you want,' said Harvey. 'I'll start the clock now. Take a look in the case if you're stuck for ideas.'

Dave looked down at Frodo's limp cock; if the pup didn't have a very lively appetite then his task could be hard work. Dave wandered over to the case, picked it up and set it down by Frodo. He opened the lid and looked inside.

'Ah, nipple clamps,' he said. 'You can't go wrong with those. Or, teat clamps, I guess.' Dave attached a small crocodile clip to each of Frodo's nipples. Frodo grimaced, and Dave looked down to notice early signs of possible firmness returning to the dalmatian's cock. 'And a vibrating cock and ball ring, how cute,' said Dave. He squatted down in front of Frodo and slipped the pup's cock and balls through the rings, pulling them a little here and there until they sat comfortably and symmetrically. 'Hold this,' he said, switching on the handset and passing it to Frodo. The small eccentric electric motor started humming happily, and the pup's cock began to stiffen up as if being inflated. 'Ah, and more electrics,' said Dave. 'Bend over boy - and don't worry, I'll lube it.' Frodo bent over and felt Dave slapping lube into and around his tail hole before inserting a thick vibrating dildo. 'Let's see, how many speeds has this got?' asked Dave, fiddling with another remote control with one hand, and resting a finger from the other onto the exposed end of the dildo so that he could judge its vibrations. The motor whirred, slowly, fast, intermittently, variably, as Dave cycled through the settings. 'That's the one, I think,' he said finally, watching Frodo's face.

'OK, two minutes so far,' said Harvey.

'Right, you little cock slut,' said Dave to Frodo. 'Spread your legs.' Frodo obeyed.

'Now grab your dick and rub it,' said Dave.

Frodo held his pup-hood and slowly rubbed it.

'Faster, runt,' said Dave. 'Wank that little worm of yours. Show all these students what a slut you are,' said Dave.

Frodo started rubbing his member faster.

'Faster, slut,' said Dave. 'What are you, a pussy? Can't you get it up? Can't you fire? D'you want all these students to see what a feeble bitch whore cock slut arse wipe shitty runt you are? Wank, slut, wank! Faster! That's not fast, I said faster!' cried Dave, as Frodo began rubbing his cock in a wild frenzy of determination to reach another orgasm far sooner than nature had ever anticipated.

'Wank!' shouted Dave, slapping one of Frodo's perfectly formed buttocks, 'That!' he continued, slapping Frodo's other gorgeous cheek, 'Cock!' finished Dave, giving Frodo's rump another almighty smack.

'Arooo!' howled Frodo, an ancient canine cry of pain and pleasure and surprise and delight. Streams of puppy soda flew several feet into the air, landing like a waterfall onto the podium. The watching class broke out into cheers.

'Atta boy,' said Dave, ruffling Frodo's hair. 'No harm meant. Just driving you on with a bit of the old routine, you know.' Frodo cocked his head and looked at Dave, not entirely sure how to take his comments or whether they were sincere. Then the young lad reached down, squeezed some final drops of pup juice out of the doggy cock and onto his fingers, and tasted it. 'You've one helluva load, and it's got one helluva taste, you cute little pup,' said Dave. Frodo smiled, and nodded. Dave was all right.

'Thank you Dave, thank you. Three minutes and thirty seconds. Not at all bad. You can return to your seat, Dave. And Frodo, you'd best free yourself of those bits and pieces. Now then,' said Harvey, 'Any more thoughts?'

*

Silence.

'No? Really?' asked Harvey. 'Colin, what about you? Any thoughts?'

'Well,' said a young guy in the second row, 'I guess there's good manners and cleanliness.'

'Perfect. Yes, good manners and cleanliness are always important. I think Frodo's shown good manners, don't you?'

Murmurs amongst the students indicated their assent.

'And cleanliness?' asked Harvey.

'Well he has kinda made a mess of the floor with his spunk,' observed Colin.

'Yes, Colin. You're right. A good pup should clean up after themselves. Do you want to come and supervise, Colin?'

Colin stepped out of his seat and walked onto the stage. He looked down at the floor, covered in what seemed to be yards of stringy white puppy soda.

'Frodo,' he said. 'Clean! Lick! Clean!'

Frodo bent down and began licking the shiny trails of cum, moving around on all fours and following Colin's directions. It was salty and still warm, and pretty tasty although very different from the piss he had tasted that morning. 'And here!' Colin was saying, 'And then over there! And there! And, eww, I think I stepped in some. There's some on my shoes now.' Frodo followed Colin around the stage, licking and swallowing and licking.

'All clean, sir,' said Colin.

'Good, well done Colin. Well done Frodo.'

Colin returned to his seat, and Frodo went to sit by Harvey.

*

'Now, class, I hope you all read my report on Frodo's paper fetish?' said Harvey.

Nodding heads signalled that all the students had done their homework.

'Any thoughts?' asked Harvey.

'I think psychological flooding, sir,' said one voice. 'Fill every room with newspaper. Have him wank on it and roll in it every day, sir.'

'Interesting,' said Harvey. 'Any other thoughts?'

'Actually, I think some kind of paper chastity,' suggested another student. 'Ban all paper from the house. Don't let him touch papers in shops or on the train. Or anywhere. Enforced chastity, that will cure him.'

'Chastity,' echoed Harvey. 'Well, yes, that can solve some things. Any more?'

'Feed him newspaper every day. Mix it into his dog food, and water. Take some to restaurants. Wherever he goes. Give him bits of paper as snacks,' was the next suggestion.

'Right, well, not sure about that one. Maybe for food-related fetishes, yes, but I'm not so sure about newspapers,' said Harvey.

'Beat him with rolled-up newspapers,' called one young lad.

'Violence and negative feedback, that's always a tool of sorts,' nodded Harvey.

'Just get him to wear a sign in public, saying 'I wank onto newspaper then eat it',' suggested another student.

'Public humiliation. Hmm, again, all interesting thoughts,' agreed Harvey. 'But you're all missing the point, I think. Anybody? Any one? Ben?'

'Sir, yes sir. It might not be a problem, sir?'

'Could you elaborate, Ben?'

'Everybody's coming up with ways to stop the fetish, sir. To crush it, stamp it out. I don't think that's the issue, here. It's more around understanding and discipline.'

'Exactly,' said Harvey. 'Unless a patient has a real problem with their fetish, it's more a case of control rather than total denial. In which case, Ben, what would you suggest?'

'I think, sir, we'd just need to gauge Frodo's current level of self control, and take it from there.'

'And how might we do that?'

'I'd suggested intense, unrestrained submersion into the fetish environment, sir, with verbal instructions to abstain from indulgence, but no physical restraints.'

'Yes, good. The first stage is to measure how severe the problem is, and then we can discuss whether it's fine as it is, needs a little curbing, or needs serious attention. There's only one problem, though. Frodo's fetish is heavily linked to his sexual desires and frustrations, but he's already fired two loads today and we really do need him ... excited ... before the fetish exposure starts - just to speed up the process because we've only got him until this evening. So, let's see, Ben and Dave, would you join me please.'

Ben and Dave got up and trotted down the steps to the platform, where Harvey took them to one side and quietly spoke to them for a short while.

'OK class,' resumed Harvey. 'I'm shortly going to take Frodo for his fetish exposure, where he'll be told not to indulge himself. Then we'll monitor his progress and gauge the severity of his problem. Except, of course, the real severity is down to how much it impacts on his personal and working life. Who knows, he might shag every newspaper he sees, but if that doesn't cause him or anybody else problems then we'd not rate it as a serious problem. If, however, it causes him or others distress then we'd have a clinical issue to deal with. But young Frodo is returning home in a few hours, and I imagine is already sexually spent, which means he won't be so responsive to the fetish triggers. That's why I've invited Ben and Dave to ... to resurrect Frodo's attention. Then, once primed, we can continue the test. Right, chaps, over to you.'

Dave walked up behind Frodo, ruffled his hair, and then said, 'Up on all fours, pup.' Meanwhile, Ben stood in front of Frodo and unbuckled his belt. Behind him, Frodo heard a zipper being undone, buttons being unpopped and trousers falling to the ground. In front of him, Ben had also dropped his trousers and was lowering his boxer shorts. Behind him, the pup felt cold lube being daubed around his tail hole. In front of him, Ben's cock sprung free, curving firmly upwards. Behind him, another cock head was running up and down his crack. In front of him, Ben was pawing his cock, rubbing it, and holding it out towards Frodo. Behind him, the searching cock had settled over Frodo's hole and was now pushing forwards. In front of him, Ben had taken hold of Frodo's hair, and gently pulled his head back. Behind him, the cock head was squeezing into Frodo's puckered passage. In front of him, Ben's cock was pushing against the dalmatian's lips. Behind him, with a sudden pop, the cock drove deep into Frodo's tight hole. In front, as Frodo parted his lips, Ben's cock slid into his mouth. Both cocks entered Frodo simultaneously, deeply and simultaneously, both down to their owners' balls. Frodo tensed, his mouth and butt full of warm and pulsing lad-flesh. Together, in much practised unison, Ben and Dave began thrusting; slowly at first, then gently speeding up in a coordinated rhythm, sometimes deliberately slipping out of sync and then back together, the slightest difference in their patterns forming the most spectacular changes to the overall effect on Frodo. He was either pushed forward, or back, or squashed, or pulled apart, or fucked upwards, or downwards; he felt as if on a throbbing car engine, or a train over a regular but rickety track, or an old unstable washing machine on its fastest spin cycle; his body was nothing but the sensation of pounding pistons, pounding pounding pistons, and his own cock had risen in sympathy, proudly and firmly erect, jutting forth beneath his tummy, drips of precum leaking out and drip drip dropping their way onto the floor where they formed a puddle of testament to his pleasure. Finally, several minutes later, feeling thoroughly used and face- and butt-fucked raw, Frodo felt Ben's cock twitch and release its load. Frodo clenched his buttocks in response to the sudden sensual taste of Ben's own cum, at which point Dave too fired his charge, deep within the dalmatian's tail hole. Both lads fell forward onto Frodo, all three of them breathless, a highly satisfied young lad on either side, with a precum-drippingly erect dalmatian sandwiched in between.

'Ben, Dave, thank you. Looking at Frodo, I think we can all agree he is indeed aroused once more. Perfect. The next stage is personal, for Frodo alone. So, until tomorrow, class dismissed.'

*

'Right, Frodo, we're now going to pop you into this room for a while,' said Harvey, opening a door marked Lab 1. Frodo followed Harvey inside, and looked around. The room was around ten feet square with no windows and only a single dimmed fluorescent bulb overhead. The walls were cream or magnolia - it was hard to tell in the light - and free of any paintings or decoration. A small grill in the ceiling provided air conditioning, keeping the room at a pleasant if not slightly warm temperature, and two separate CCTV cameras provided full coverage of the room. The floor was covered in newspapers.

'We're going to leave you in here for a few hours, Frodo, OK? The door will be locked, but we'll give you a small remote control alarm should you panic for any reason. I'll be just down the corridor. All right?'

Frodo nodded.

'Now then, what we'd like to do is leave you in this room, restrained, for half an hour. After that we'll pop in, see how you're doing, and remove the restraints. I know you're still naked, but we've set the air-con slightly warmer than usual so you should be comfortable. OK?'

Frodo nodded.

'Excellent. Well if you'd like to just lie down on the papers, on your front, and put your paws behind your back?'

Frodo obeyed, and Harvey knelt down beside him.

'I'm just going to slip some cuffs around your paws and ankles,' said Harvey, reaching into his jacket and removing two bright silver-chained manacles. Frodo felt his paws being brought closer together behind his back, followed by the familiar touch of cold steel and the sound of a ratchet being engaged - first on his right paw, and then his left. 'We've got fixed cuffs with no slack, but I thought you'd find these chained ones more comfortable,' said Harvey. 'Ankles next,' he said. Frodo brought his legs together and once again felt the icy chill of steel about his ankles and heard the familiar clicking of the mechanism as Harvey closed the cuff's toothed tongues into their slots. 'How's that feel?' asked Harvey.

Frodo wriggled his shoulders and legs, moving his paws and feet. The chains clinked and pulled, restricting his movement, but the cuffs themselves weren't digging in to his flesh.

'Wrowray,' said Frodo.

'Great. Well as you can't use your paws, I'll leave the panic button here,' said Harvey, laying the small plastic box down besides Frodo's face. 'There's a red button on the top - just hit it with your chin, or nose, or whatever, and we'll come running. Plus we've got you covered with CCTV as well. Any questions?'

'Wrro,' said Frodo.

'Excellent. I'll see you in half an hour, boy,' said Harvey, getting up to leave the room. 'Oh, just one thing, darn I almost forgot and it's important for this test to have any meaning. You mustn't entertain your fetish, OK? This is a test of your resolve, Frodo. And, importantly, you should know that if you do indulge yourself, then you will be punished. There will be consequences. Basically, try to behave, OK? See you later.' And with that, Harvey left the room. The heavy sound-proofed door swung shut, and a key turned in its lock.

Frodo, exhausted, lay down his head. So, what, he was to just lie there unmoving for half an hour? Then be unlocked, and stay in the room a few hours more? What was the big deal in that?

*

Frodo wriggled a little to get comfortable. The papers were all broad-sheets, opened up and spread about seemingly at random - but spread very densely and many pages deep so that none of the floor below was visible. He suspected the newspapers were laid on carpeting, for the floor wasn't too hard, but whatever lay below was hidden from view. Frodo wriggled a little more, and the paper rustled welcomingly below him, caressing his body and warming to his touch. Frodo's pup-hood, still hard from Dave and Ben's attention, lay sandwiched between his tummy and the sheets beneath. Rocking his hips to and fro, the young dalmatian was able to roll his doggy member left and right, left and right - the only sensation he could really achieve in his restrained state. He tried moving his hips forwards and backwards, forwards and backwards, and felt the paper tugging at his foreskin, pulling it back to expose his cock-head, then rolling it forwards again. Rolling on to one side, he looked down towards his crotch and noticed a small damp patch on the paper. Precum! He rolled back and tried humping the paper, but his cuffed paws and ankles made it extremely difficult and his foreskin hurt when he rocked forwards too far. Bringing his knees up to his chest, and pushing with one arm, he managed to sit himself up, and then lower himself back down with his face by the patch of darkened wet paper. Frodo dropped his nose to the stain and sniffed. Then, fixing his mouth around the small pool of puppy soda, he licked it; first just lightly, and then he pushed hard against the paper, brushing his tongue left, right, up and down, and then in circles, until the already-damp paper became so soggy that it tore away. Pursing his lips together, Frodo pulled the sheet upwards, and took a mouthful. The paper rustled angrily, but with a twitch of his neck Frodo pulled away fragment after fragment, chewing it into little balls which he then swallowed. Next, searching for nearby dry sheets, Frodo ran his tongue across them in long broad paths; sometimes the sheets stayed in place, if he were lying on them, and sometimes the roughness of his tongue dragged the looser ones across the floor. He buried his nose into the wet-tongued streaks, and sniffed; the dampened paper smelled even more strongly than the dry sheets. Frodo turned his head, rubbing first one cheek into soggy and torn sheets, and then his other cheek. Soon he found himself writhing on the floor, licking and sucking and sniffing the paper, rubbing his cheeks and nose into it, while all the time his hips were rising and falling, rising and falling, pushing his pup-hood into the sheets.

'Whoa! Whoa, boy!'

Frodo froze, then turned his head and looked up. Harvey had entered the room.

'Hey, Frodo, you barely lasted five minutes. You were trying to behave, weren't you?'

Frodo shrugged.

'Hmm, maybe we shouldn't have restrained you, perhaps that added to your excitement. OK, I'll tell you what, we'll uncuff you and then have another go. But try harder this time, all right? Remember, for this test, if you don't behave then you will be punished. OK?'

Frodo nodded.

'I'll just remove these bits of paper,' said Harvey, collecting a dozen or so torn and soggy sheets. 'And we'll start again. Roll onto you front, pup, and I'll remove the cuffs.'

Frodo rolled onto his tummy as Harvey took each cuff in turn, inserted and turned a small key, and removed the large silver bracelets. Frodo rubbed his wrists and ankles.

'Right, Frodo my little pup, you just need to stay in here for a couple of hours and not start shagging the floor, all right? You mustn't go to sleep though, that's not allowed and we can tell if you do because we'll be watching the monitors. Clear?'

Frodo nodded.

'Good. And try to beat give minutes, hey, pup?' Harvey left the room.

Frodo sat up and padded on all fours over to the wall. He leant back and sat down, his butt on the paper, his knees slightly apart, and his puppy cock still jutting forwards optimistically. Nobody had told him he couldn't pleasure himself, he reflected - just that the paper shouldn't play any part in it. Idly, he started stroking his pup-hood with his left paw, while with his right paw he reached out and pulled on the corner of a fresh piece of paper. Still stroking himself gently with his left paw, he used his right paw to scrunch the new piece of paper; it felt warm and smooth, and yielded to every whim of his fingers. He placed a rear paw onto the sheet, then pulled with his front paw; he was left holding a corner strip that was several inches wide. Still slowly stroking himself, he lifted the torn fragment to his nose and sniffed it, then put it into his mouth and drew it out. Looking down at his pup-hood, Frodo pulled the foreskin back, rolled up the soggy strip of newspaper, held it against the end of his puppy cock, and rolled the foreskin forwards and over it. He rubbed his cock a few times more, pulled the foreskin back, retrieved the paper and placed it on his tongue. Warm and salty, definitely warm and salty; the distinctive taste of precum. Frodo tore another small strip from another sheet of paper, placed it on the floor below his pup-hood and then massaged out a few more drops of precum which fell obligingly onto their target. Frodo held the paper to his mouth and licked it. His doggy member was now fully firm and erect, a constant stream of precum waiting to emerge. Frodo lay on his back, reached out to grab a new sheet, and ran it over his crotch; down between his thighs, under and around his ball sack, over and around his cock. He slid his paw up and down, up and down, dragging the sheet of paper over his crotch, which in turn rubbed and rolled his pup-hood. Then, changing his grip, he wrapped the paper around his cock, grasped it firmly and started wanking, his legs spread wide apart, his pulse and breathing becoming ever more rapid. With his other paw he grabbed a new sheet and held it over his face, scrunching it around his nose, and breathed deeply. His mind played forth any number of scenarios; having his tail hole measured, the recent water sports where he had tried to drink one lad's piss, getting aroused by the twin actions of Ben and Dave, being serviced roughly by the Irish Wolfhound, and his forced masturbation in front of all the students. Frodo sat up, kneeling, threw the paper to one side and continued pawing his pup-hood.

'Frodo!'

Once again, the young dalmatian had been so distracted that he'd failed to hear the door open and Harvey enter the room.

'Frodo! What are you doing?'

Harvey stared at Frodo. Frodo looked up at Harvey. Both of them looked down at Frodo's pup-hood, which - having got their attention - then chose to fire three, four and finally a fifth heavy salvo of puppy juice.

Frodo looked back at Harvey and gave a guilty shrug.

'You do know what this means, Frodo, young pup?' asked Harvey.

Frodo nodded.

*

'Ben? Ben, would you come in, please, and bring the red case with you?' called Harvey, leaning his head out of the room where Frodo sat awaiting his fate. A few seconds later, Ben entered the paper-strewn room, carrying a red leather case which he sat down on the floor.

'Frodo didn't manage to control himself, Ben, and he was warned that would lead to a punishment. It's important we stick to that; consistency is vital for good discipline,' said Harvey.

Ben nodded his agreement and turned to Frodo. 'What'll it be, boy?' he asked, undoing the leather case. 'There's a nice selection here. We have a variety of CBT gadgets, nipple clamps, electric gizmos, items for spanking...?'

Frodo sat silently, staring at Ben, waiting.

'It's your choice, Frodo,' explained Harvey. 'You agreed to these tests, and we don't really want to give you a hard time, but it is important that you receive a punishment because that's what we said would happen. However the least we can do, in this instance, is let you choose.'

'Wrranking?' offered Frodo.

'Wanking?' asked Ben.

'No, I think that was meant to be spanking,' said Harvey.

'Ah. Right. Well in that case... We've a cane, a bull-whip, a cat,' - Frodo winced - 'that's a cat-o'-nine-tails, a wooden spoon, um, let's see,' - Ben rummaged through the case - 'a hair brush, several paddles, a riding crop...?'

Frodo shrugged; he hadn't expected the chance to choose his general punishment, let alone the specific instrument to be used.

'I'd go for the crop, Ben,' suggested Harvey.

'Crop it is,' said Ben, removing a long black riding crop from the case and swishing it through the air. Frodo gulped; it was longer than the one which Rupert normally used.

'Get up and bend over boy,' said Ben. Frodo got up and assumed the familiar position.

'Kiss the crop, pup!' ordered Ben, holding the crop below Frodo's nose. Frodo kissed it.

'Worship the crop, pup!' commanded Ben. Frodo lowered his head to the crop.

'Good. I'm glad to see you know when to show some respect,' said Ben, walking around behind Frodo.

'Spread those puppy legs,' he said, running the leathered end of the crop up and down the inside of Frodo's thighs. Frodo shuffled his legs further apart. 'More!' said Ben, tapping the thighs with the crop. Frodo moved his legs further apart.

'Hmm, not a bad rump,' said Ben, stroking Frodo's smooth and rounded butt cheeks. 'Just ripe for a good cropping, I think. Ah, and what's this?' asked Ben. Frodo felt the crop slide up between his legs and flick his swelling cock. 'Getting hard again, are we pup?'

Silence.

'I said: getting hard again, are we pup?' repeated Harvey.

'Wreff,' admitted Frodo, suddenly feeling Ben's hand reach between his puppy legs and grab his swelling member.

'Wreff indeed,' mocked Ben, tugging on the dalmatian's rigid pup-hood. 'Well I was thinking maybe just six swats, but because you're beginning to leak precum all over Harvey's nice clean newspapers, I really think you deserve nine. Don't you agree?'

'Wreff,' said Frodo.

Ben tapped the crop lightly against Frodo's buttocks, drew back his hand and - swish! - brought it down against both butt cheeks. Frodo flinched. 'One,' said Ben. Then he tapped it again a couple of times against Frodo's smooth rump, brought back his hand and - swish! - struck again. Once more, the sting made Frodo flinch. 'Two,' said Ben, and then - swish! - 'Three'. Frodo moaned quietly.

'What's that?' asked Ben, putting his head down near to Frodo's. 'Too much for you?'

Frodo shook his head.

'Good,' said Ben, standing back up, 'because I think' - swish! - 'you need' - swish! - 'to learn' - swish! - 'some discipline.' - swish! - 'Darn, I've lost count. How many's that?'

'Wreven,' said Frodo, fighting hard not to reach back and rub his stinging buttocks.

'Hmm,' said Ben. 'Two swats left. Hmm.'

Frodo felt the crop once again be held against his buttocks, then - instead of it being lined up across his cheeks - he felt the tip of the crop being run up and down his butt crack. 'I wonder,' mused Ben aloud, 'how it would be if I...' and Frodo felt his butt cheeks being pulled apart, exposing his tail hole. 'How about a nice crop across your puckered little pleasure hole, pup? Or,' - and next Frodo felt his puppy ball sack being grabbed - 'we could go for your little doggy marbles, or doggy woggy cock? Hmm? Hey?'

Frodo whimpered.

'Ben? A quick word, please?' said Harvey, and Frodo waited patiently, bent over, buck naked, cock swollen, balls hanging heavy and low, his rump raised, red and stinging, while Harvey and Ben held a short quiet conversation.

'OK, take this,' said Ben, holding out the crop for Frodo to take in his mouth. 'Two swats left, and Harvey thinks we should finish this by hand.'

Two loud smacks rent the air as Ben's flattened palm landed first on the dalmatian's left cheek, then his right, leaving two neatly formed and glowing-red hand prints.

'Punishment complete,' said Ben. 'What do you say, Frodo?' he asked, taking the crop from the pup's mouth.

'Wrank you,' said Frodo.

Ben hunkered down beside Frodo, ruffled his hair, stroked the nape of his neck and then ran a hand up and down his back. 'You know I only did it because you deserved it, pup? And you know I only did it because I had to? Because I love you? And you know that, honestly, it hurt me more than it hurt you?'

'Wreff,' said Frodo.

Ben scritched Frodo playfully behind one ear. 'Atta boy! And you won't misbehave again, will you?'

'Wro,' said Frodo.

'There, there. Let's say no more about it,' said Ben, standing up and stroking Frodo's buttocks. 'All over, all done. You can stand up now, and go and get furred up. Rupert will be along to collect you soon.'

*

Frodo was laying curled up in a massive beanbag, in Harvey's office, when Rupert arrived. The dalmatian was fully fursuited but his puppy rump was still too sore to sit on, but he'd been allowed a shower (with warm water) and given a hot bowl of diced steak and potatoes, a bowl of red wine, and a third bowl of mashed apple crumble and custard for dessert. 'You've done exceptionally well, young pup Frodo,' Harvey had told him.

'He's done exceptionally well, that young pup Frodo,' Harvey repeated to Rupert. 'He passed all our tests with no problem at all, apart from the newspaper one, and I suspect that's so deeply embedded since his earliest puppy years that he may never lose that fetish. Having said that, we did subject him to extreme temptation, and after he succumbed he took his punishment without complaint. Honestly, all things considered, he's a very obedient dog. And, until either of us have tried rolling around and wanking off amongst sheets of newspaper, well quite frankly who are we to judge?'

Frodo got up off his beanbag, walked over to Rupert and nuzzled his master's leg.

'You OK boy?' asked Rupert.

Frodo nodded.

'Did they treat you OK?' he asked.

Frodo nodded.

'Sore butt?' asked Rupert.

Frodo nodded.

'But did you deserve it?' asked Rupert.

Frodo nodded, and hung his head despondently.

'Listen, pup,' said Rupert. 'I stopped off at the recycling centre on the way over here, and the guys there gave me three large bundles of newspaper. I thought maybe, when we got home, well, you know, you could maybe show me what I've obviously been missing. You up for that?'

Rupert squatted down beside his pup and gave him a terrific hug.

Frodo murred.

The End.