Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Disclaimer: This is just a story, not reality.  If this sounds like anyone
you know, it's pure coincidence.  Don't read it if you're not supposed to.
You know the drill.

   Eric - Chapter 8: Daddy Rae
Warnings: Mb, extreme pedo, ws, bdsm

   (c) 2009 storieseric@gmail.com

   I took to being a 'little masochist' quite naturally.  While Daddy Chase
was happy to give me play punishments, Daddy Rae was better at it.  And at
tying me up, which as another thing I loved.  When going to sleep, I would
often wrap myself as tightly as I could in my blanket, so I could barely
move my fingers and ankles.  And my favorite thing to do with a hammok was
spin in it until it couldn't get any tighter.  So, while this memory might
be a bit extreme for some, it was one of the happiest times I've yet had
with Daddy Rae.

   Daddy Chase was away visiting a friend in another state, so Daddy Rae
and I had the whole weekend together.  I was on my back watching cartoons,
naked of course, when he came in with a sack of toys.

   "How would you like to be a puppy this weekend, son?" At first I didn't
respond, engrosed in the TV.  He cleared his throat and I sat up, trying to
recall what he asked.

   "But we can't have a puppy.  You said."

   Daddy Rae chuckled, "Not have a puppy, be a puppy." Then he showed me
the toys.  Some small black leather sacks with locks on them, a dildo with
a rubber tail attached, a spiked collar, some floppy ears, and some leather
straps and rings I didn't understand.

   "Oh cool!" I pounced on the tail, certain I knew how this piece worked
at least.  The collar and body harness went on first, and Daddy Rae made
sure the leash couldn't pull me too tight.  I put the tail in myself, using
vaseline, so it'd stay slippery longer.  A strap went around my balls,
pulling them out just enough to hurt when I moved fast.  By this time I was
prancing around on all fours, thoroughly enjoying myself.

   "Having fun, little puppy?"

   "Arf!"

   Daddy Rae chuckled and picked up the leather sacks.  "Sit!  Shake!" I
sat and offered my hand.  Instead of shaking it, he curled my fingers into
a fist.  "Now, puppies don't have hands, they have paws.  So you need to
wear these all the time while you're a puppy." I watched in curiosity and a
little worry as he put the paw over my fist, tightened the strap, and
locked it.

   "Other Paw." I sat back and sniffed at my gloved hand while he bound my
other one.

   "But..." I was thinking ahead to eating lunch, and going to the
bathroom.

   "Puppies don't talk either." He showed me the remaining straps that
looked like they'd go around my head, with a wiffle ball where my mouth
would be.  "The next time you say anything, this goes on, and you get a
spanking."

   "Ok," I said without thinking.

   "Right." He pulled me into his lap in spanking position.  My stiffy bent
against his leg and my balls were being pulled tight.  The wiffle ball was
bigger than it looked, and it was hard to stretch my jaw wide enough.  I
could relax against it, though, which made it easier when the spanks
started.  I wailed a lot, not able to hold my mouth closed to stifle the
screams.  By the time Daddy Rae was done, he had gone soft.  That always
happened when he focused on someone too much while playing sex.

   He rolled me over and stroked my belly and stiffy, telling me I was a
good doggy.  Glowing all over, my eyes locked with my daddy's as we shared
the pleasure of my body.  I was aware of everything, the texture of his
hands, the slight rough spot he had on his thumb, the hairs on his legs. 
His stiffy grew against my back, leaving little cool dots where his juice
rubbed off on me.

   I came very near an orgasm, but not quite.  Eventually, the ball gag was
causing too much discomfort, and Daddy Rae noticed.  He took it off and
lowered me to the floor.

   "Now, be a good doggy, or master will have to put this back on you."

   "Arf!" I tried to wag my rubber tail.  Not as easy as it might seem, it
was a big one.

   'Master' gave me a doggy chew toy, a kind of leather dragon, and pet my
head affectionately.  I grred the toy for a bit, then curled up with it in
my mouth to continue watching cartoons.

   I first noticed my leash when I needed to use the restroom.  I got on
all fours and started towards the hallway, and suddenly the collar jerked
my head back towards the couch.

   "Ow!" I blushed, hoping 'Master' hadn't heard me speak.  I crawled to
the edge of my leash range and looked around for him, not seeing him
anywhere.  I tried whimpering loudly, like a puppy needing a walk.  Now the
paws I was wearing worried me.  If I couldn't hold myself, I might pee on
the rug, and then I'd really be in trouble.  I barked once, then louder. 
Finally, Daddy Rae came in, and saw me trying to do the peepee dance.

   "Puppy need walkies?" He picked up my leash, and for a moment I wondered
if he was actually going to take me outside.  But no, he took me to the
bathroom.  I looked up curiously, and back to the toilet.

   "No, that's for humans.  Puppy boys go in the shower." He tugged me past
the toilet and I happily leaped into the bathtub.  Pee flowed almost
immediately, and I gave an exaggerated sigh.  I heard daddy's zipper, and a
warm spray splashed across my back.  I turned my head and he aimed his
stream at my face.  I had to close my eyes, but I caught a fair bit in my
mouth.

   Again I tried to wag, wincing from how sore my bum was.  My pee trickled
to a stop as I got a stiffy.  Daddy Rae chuckled at something I did, then
he pulled on my leash, pulling me out of the tub.  My eyes were still
closed.  I made a questioning whimper, but didn't get a response.  Cold and
dripping pee, I was led back down the hallway into the bedroom.  I thought
about asking for a 'time out', just to see what was going on, but I was so
excited I went with it.

   "Now see what you've done?  Master is all horny." Cool!  I nearly
bounced.  I would have if it wasn't for the tail.

   I heard the leash being dragged through something, and my head was
forced to the floor.  I let my paws get pinned under my shoulders, so there
would be room to breathe.  Daddy Rae lifted my hips, and checked my cock
strap, tightening it a little, and giving my stiffy a soft spank.

   "How is puppy doing?"

   "Arf!"

   "Is puppy ready to be mated?"

   "Arf-Arf!"

   I moaned as the tail came out, mixed releif, arousal, and yearning. 
Daddy Rae's cock replaced it, sinking into me easily.  We knew just how to
do this, him pushing to one side and me tilting my hips to the right.  I
felt his stiffy slide along the wall of my rectum and then slip into my
intestines, and keep going.  Smooth skin pressed against my bottom.  Daddy
Rae must have shaved while I was watching cartoons.

   He pressed against me as hard as he could, bending my back a little and
squishing my face into the carpet.  Staying there, he lifted my right leg
so he could reach around to my stiffy.  Fingernails clawed and tugged at
it, making me moan and squirm.  He teased and tickled and scraped, all the
while keeping himself burried to the hilt in my bum.  I writhed in place,
every arch or reflex twitch adding to our arousal.

   I don't remember him thrusting at all, or him stroking my stiffy.  I
remember breathing harder and harder, straining against my collar, the
floor, Master's cock, and other restraints, boddy humming like it was on
the edge of an orgasm.  Then he came, crying out and gripping me tight,
still holding himself still.  After the first couple squirts, his other
hand grabbed my stiffy and squeezed.  I came just as hard, though dry as
always.

   Slowly, he lifted his weight off of me and unbuckled the collar.  He
rocked back, keeping his stiffy inside me, and carried me two feet to the
bed.  We both lay there panting, not wanting to move.  My eyes were dry, so
I risked opening them.  Seeing Daddy Rae so relaxed and happy is a
beautiful sight.

   My body ached in a plesant way.  I don't know how to describe it other
than that.  I was too sore to move, and it was fantastic.  I wanted to say
'thank you' and barely stopped myself before speaking.  Instead I nuzzled
his arm and gave it a couple licks.

   He tugged at my cock strap and released it, and I felt a new wave of
pain and releif flood me.  I reached down to fondle my sack, and was
frustrated by the leather paws preventing me from doing so.

   It took a long time for Daddy Rae to soften and slip out of my bum.  The
first time he started slipping out, he started humping me again.  He bit my
ear and pinched my nipples, a little harder each time until I was
whimpering with each touch.  He came in me a second time, whispering to me
that I was a good puppy, making his master so happy.

   Then all the gear came off, and we drug ourselves to the shower again to
clean up.  He was soft through the entire shower, even when he washed my
willy and bum, checking them for signs of injury.

   After a nap, he poured us tea in the kitchen, and we sat and talked
about it.  I don't know why we always had to talk about it after, but it
seemed to be a rule neither of my daddies ever broke.

   "How did you like being a puppy?"

   "When can we do it again?" I bounced in my chair and winced.  My bum was
very sore.

   "That much, huh?" I nodded.

   "I wanna eat out of a dog bowl!"

   Daddy Rae chuckled, "Any other changes you'd make?"

   I slurped lots of tea.  "Hmm...  the ball was too big?"

   He nodded, "That's a tough one to fix.  They just don't make these toys
in your size."

   I knew he wanted more, but I couldn't think of anything.  He had made me
feel great.  All I really wanted was to do it all again.  In a few days.

   He turned his glass in his hands.  "Do you want to hear what I think?"

   "I think you can't call a time out with the ball in.  And there could be
other times you can't speak.  I know you well enough to tell, but if you're
going to play these games with daddy's friends-"

   "Yayyy!!!" There was no trying to talk to me after that.  My daddies
were going to let me play masochist with other people!  I hugged him real
hard and ran around the house.  Days later, when one of Daddy Chase's
friends knocked on the door, I greeted him on all fours, barking.  He was
confused, and it was explained away by me being just a kid.



   I remember one night climbing into bed with my daddies, sniffling from a
nightmare.  Daddy Chase was still up studying, so I crawled under his book
and half hugged, half draped myself across his belly.

   "What's wrong, sport?" I mumbled something and was generally
unresponsive.  He put his book down and stroked my back and bottom. 
Eventually he got me to talk.  I tried to explain about the dragon in the
basement with a little man under his shell, the barrel of monkeys, and the
shower doors that wouldn't open.

   He listened and pet, letting me run down until I fell asleep again in
his lap.

   I woke the second time that night when Daddy Chase's book fell on the
floor.  His hand was in my underwear, one finger curled between my cheeks.
His willy was half hard and squished against my arm and chest.  My other
arm was cold, so I tucked it under me, freeing his willy.  And then
sleepiness again.  Just a good moment.