MIKE GETS A NEW PUPPY (M/M)
Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2018 8:55 pm
MIKE GETS A NEW PUPPY
Tyler's phone rang. "Spike, here boy."
That's all the message was. That's all he was expecting it to be. It was Mike. The weekend was obviously on. Yesterday, Mike said he had a surprise for Tyler. It was just that he wasn't sure that they could get the place to themselves. Obviously the coast was clear.
Tyler had a long journey ahead of him but, ever the optimist, he had already packed for the weekend just in case. From what he knew about Mike and the things they had spoken about in the past, the long drive should certainly be worth it.
The journey was tedious but uneventful and Tyler pulled his car up to the apartment block, checked the address, strapped on his backpack and made his way to the top floor. There was only one door and Tyler rang the bell. Then his phone rang. He unhitched his bag and retrieved the phone before the call could be re-directed to voice-mail. "Get ready."
"Out here?" The call ended abruptly and Tyler was left examining his surroundings. The landing was private and, as soon as he had reassured himself that the only access, apart from the stairs which he had just climbed, was the door to what was obviously Mike's apartment, he had to decide.
"Oh well, in for a penny . . ."
Even now there were decisions to make. Tyler opened his pack and dug in. Yes, that would do. Mike would appreciate that. He packed his clothing into the scant space at the top of the bag, rang the doorbell and took to his hands and knees. He had never f
elt like this before. As he waited on the none-too-warm landing, he still hoped that the black jockstrap was the right decision.
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Tyler knelt waiting and wondering whether he shouldn't, perhaps, ring the bell again. What would Spike do? He decided to wait. He even thought his hearing was becoming more acute as he heard someone approaching from inside the apartment. The door opened. The transformation was complete. Spike looked up.
Mike saw the large, hazel eyes looking up at him. Spike hoped they looked adoring but Mike couldn't help noticing a certain trepidation. This was going to take work but he couldn't afford to give an inch yet. Spike had to know who was boss.
Spike made his best play. "Woof?"
"Gooood boyyy!" Mike ruffled his nearly black hair.
Spike wished he had a tail to wag. The lack of one made his attempted display of pleasure embarrassing to say the least.
"Spike, fetch. In you come." Mike indicated Tyler's rucksack. Tyler reached out for the bag with his right hand. "Bad dog!" Mike administered a sharp tap to his friend's head. Tyler flinched with surprise. He held himself. "Spike, fetch properly, pups don't have hands."
"Sorry, Master." The contrite pup was surprised to receive another sharp tap.
"They don't speak either." Tyler was having a bit of trouble with completely becoming Spike but he understood that his master's chastisements were completely justified . He whimpered in a manner which he hoped would portray contrition. He hoped his upward cast eyes would help.
"Good puppy. You'll learn." Tyler wasn't sure about that. Spike thought he was, especially when Mike ruffled his hair again. "Just drag it. Come in."
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Having been corrected for using his paws as hands, Spike located the hanging loop on the top of Tyler's rucksack and clamped it between his teeth. His progress into Mike's apartment was hindered by the heavy bag as it dragged along the floor underneath him.
It would be difficult to decide what breed Spike was. At the minute, he was like a retriever dragging an over-sized prey item along the ground between his front legs and trying to avoid pushing it down with his torso. More usually, he'd probably be more like a less emaciated version of a saluki with his long limbs, slender build, well defined pecs and strong shoulders.
Spike followed his new master across what appeared to be a new, luxurious, deeply piled carpet until Mike turned round. "Good boy, SiiT!" Spike parked his bum on Tyler's heels whilst keeping what were once Tyler's hands flat on the floor. He retained the fabric loop in his mouth. Mike extended his hand. "Give!" Spike released the rucksack and Mike dragged it from under him and lifted it onto a nearby armchair.
"Rough journey?"
Tyler had to think. What should he do? What would Spike do? He decided. "Owff, owff." And he nodded his head with each bark.
"Good boy, good boy, it's alright, you're here now." Mike stroked his new pup's head. Spike rubbed his cheek against his master's leg. The residual human couldn't help thinking that he might soon be grateful that he'd chosen a very firm jockstrap.
Mike's demeanour suddenly changed. "You're obviously a good doggie but we'd better set some things straight first. Tyler, you probably need a piss. Go take one and we'll set some ground rules." Spike was surprised, and somewhat disappointed, to hear his human name but the implication was obvious. He took to his human feet and headed for the door that Mike was indicating.
Mike waited. Spike emerged from the bathroom. Mike told him to get off his hands and knees until he'd had his say and to and sit on the sofa alongside him like a normal human being. They conversed for a short time, recapping what they had discussed on line, over the telephone and during that one previous, and very brief, meeting. Rules and limits were recapped and Mike explained that, the next time Tyler spoke like a human, he would take it as an indication that Spike needed out of whatever situation he was in. "Understand, boy?"
Tyler grinned expansively and Spike took to his "paws" again and looked up adoringly at his master from the sitting position panting noisily with his tongue protruding.
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"Good boy." Mike leaned forwards and ruffled his pet's hair once more.
"Yip!"
"Spike need some water?"
"Woof!" Spike nodded - just once.
"OK, come on, boy." Mike rose from the sofa and guided his new puppy to the kitchen. The floor surface wasn't as comfortable for Spike as the carpet had been. Mike indicated a present he'd bought for Spike: a shiny bowl onto which Spike's name seemed to have been added in red enamel paint. "Good boy. Drinkies."
Mike enjoyed his pup's messy struggle to drink but Spike did manage not to say anything in spite of the spluttering and initial snorting. He did allow himself an infantile giggle, though.
"OK, had enough?"
"Woof!" Another single nod.
"Good pup! Time to start training. C'm'ere, boy." Spike saw what Mike had obviously secreted about his person with some excitement. It was certainly going to be a new experience. He made another embarrassing attempt to reward his owner with a wag of his non-existent tail as the choke chain was slipped over his neck.
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"Heel!" Mike must have given careful consideration as to how he would need to treat such a new pup. He gave a gentle tug on the chain and then walked Spike quite gently across to his open bedroom door. There were two other similar doors as well but they were closed. Spike followed his master into the room. "SiiT." Mike slipped the chain from Spike's neck. "Hold it, boy." The increasingly intrigued puppy gripped the proffered chain in his teeth.
"Look what Master bought you." That was hardly a surprise. Spike examined the round tag with his name on it before Mike buckled the shiny, new leather collar snugly round his neck. He was sure he heard something like a padlock click behind his neck.
Mike lifted the leather lead from the floor and unclipped it from the choke chain that still hung down from both sides of Spike's mouth. He attached it to the ring that held Spike's name tag onto his new collar. Spike looked up exitedly. "Woof!"
"Yes, it's just for you. Now, walkies!" Tyler was a bit taken aback. Surely he wasn't going to be taken outside? "Drop the chain. Let's take a look round your new home." Spike breathed out.
With frequent reminders to "Heel, boy", Spike was given a conducted tour of the extensive apartment. He had already seen his master's bedroom, the kitchen and the bathroom but he was guided round them all again. Mike thought it would help him learn to walk to heel. Mike's house-mate was away for the weekend and Spike wasn't shown round his room but there was another with a bed and various covered items which Spike sniffed around as if investigating them. "Uh-uh -Leeave!" Mike jerked Spike's lead but not too harshly and the pup sat and whimpered apologetically. Two sets of hazel eyes met. It was a long way to look up from where Spike's head was.
"Good boy. You'll find out what they are very soon." Spike's tongue lolled out, he panted and nodded his head enthusiastically. He was getting the definite feeling that he could trust his new master.
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"Heel, Boy." Spike was taken back to the living room and told to siT while his master got another present that he had for him. Spike sat with his tongue out and panting hard to demonstrate his excitement.
Mike returned. "Beg. Beg, boy" Spike raised his torso and drew his hands up to shoulder level with his elbows bent. Not many dogs have quite such a wide, contented grin on their faces. "Give me your paw." Tyler extended his right arm.
The object in Mike's hand was about the size of a glove but it didn't seem to have any fingers. It was made of supple black leather with prominent red stitching and a ring of studs round where the cuff should be. Mike jammed the polished mitten over Tyler's right hand and the human's fist soon became Spike's paw. Once the zip had been closed, there was no way Tyler could uncurl his fingers. Spike thought that was wonderful. The studded strap that was round the cuff was fed through the large leather loop attached to the end of the zip, and through the buckle and the mitt was fastened snugly round Spike's wrist and locked with a small, shiny padlock.
Spike examined his latest present an expressed his gratitude. "Woof" and he groomed his muzzle with the back of what was once Tyler's hand.
"Like it, Boy?"
"Woof (pant, pant, pant)." Spike/Tyler put one paw and one hand on the floor, leaned forward and rubbed his head against the inside of his master's left thigh. Looking up again, he could see that his thanks were appreciated. Mike was beginning to regret that he was only wearing normal boxers under his black skinny jeans. "Woooof?"
Mike pulled himself together; there was more to do before his pedigree pup could be entered into a dog show. "Beg."
"(Whimper)" Spike sat back again, raised his torso and presented his left paw for attention. When Mike had finished, the pup inspected his shiny new paws, panted and yipped delightedly several times.
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A bit more practice walking to heel and Spike soon got used to his new paws; they even had rubberised pads that stopped him slipping on un-carpeted floors.. There was much praise and the pup rolled over onto his back and waved his "legs" in the air in delight.
"What a clever boy."
"(Pant, pant, pant) Yip, yip!" Mike reached down to scratch his pup's belly comprehensively. That got a bit dodgy as his hands approached the waist band of the jockstrap, and the fabric of the pouch was put under more strain than its manufacturer ever intended. Spike was in puppy heaven; his master was so good to him.
"No, it's no use. Not good enough."
"Woof?" Spike couldn't think what he might have done wrong.
"Sit, Boy. WaiiiT." Spike sat with his splendid new paws on the carpet and his head on one side.
Mike soon returned with a brown paper bag. Spike was intrigued. "Woof?" and his head flopped to the opposite side but his eyes looked up into his master's smiling face.
"Those legs are out of scale, boy. You'll never win any prizes if you don't meet the breed standard."
Spike looked puzzled. "Wooof?"
Mike sat himself down on the sofa. "Turn around, boy." Spike whimpered; he wanted to gaze lovingly at his new master but, of course, he had to do what he was told. Mike was quite touched as the dejected doggie continued with the whimpering as he crawled to face away from him.
"OK, back up, boy." Spike shuffled backwards until Tyler's feet and his own backside were touching the sofa. Mike leaned forwards and scratched his obedient pet in the small of his back, just above Tyler's jockstrap. Spike yipped with pleasure as his muscles tensed up involuntarily.
"Good boy, goooud boooy!" Spike's attempt to wag his non-existent tail felt even more stupid than ever as he rubbed his backside against the sofa - but wag his tail he did!
"Spike, forward boy. Not too much." Spike edged slightly forwards. "WaiT!" Spike came to a halt no more than about a foot away from the sofa. He couldn't see what Mike had taken from the paper bag that he had put on the sofa. "Give me your foot, boy." Spike raised his right foot and Mike lodged it in his lap. As Spike shook while he panted, Mike nearly regretted that decision and he was glad that his pup couldn't see his reaction. Both members of the partnership had much to learn about their mutual interactions.
Tyler heard a sound that he was sure he recognised before Mike raised his foot and started wrapping something tightly round his human ankle. "OK boy, gi' me your knee." Mike took the proffered joint in his hand and lodged it further back in his lap than was probably wise. He made himself a mental note that he would definitely NOT wear a pair of lose boxers tomorrow. Spike let out an all too human grunt as he was taken by surprise and tried to regain his balance. Mike let that one go.
That clicking noise again and this time spike was sure he knew what it was, let's face it, he already had some of it wrapped around his ankle. Mike lifted Tyler's knee from his lap and wrapped the black duct tape round both his ankle and his thigh tightly enough to make sure that he would not be able to separate his calf from his thigh. Having done that, Mike continued until the tape encased Tyler's leg all the way down to his knee (Or should I say down to Spike's hind foot?) and back up to his foot once more.
"OK boy. Foot down." Tyler knelt on his right shin. "No, boy, not like that, not unless you're told to sit. Stand on it."
"Woof?
"Stand on this. That's your rear paw." Mike bent double, reached down and tapped Tyler's knee. "That's your rear paw, boy. Stand." Now Spike understood and he tried to balance on both his new paws even though one of Tyler's legs had not yet been converted. "Good boy, there's a good boy." Mike risked a scratch of Spike's backside.
Spikes shoulders raised as his front legs straightened. Oh, if only he had a proper tail.
When Mike demanded Tyler's remaining foot, Spike had some difficulty balancing, but his master was taking good care of him and supported him strongly as he converted Tyler's long, slender left leg into a matching hind leg for spike. "OK boy, siT."
Tyler soon figured out what was required and he slipped his knees forwards until his toes touched the floor and spikes' front legs were straight.
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Mike scratched Spike under his chin. The stifled human squeak as his pet went rigid (all over) reassured Mike that he was treating his new pet well. "WaiT!" Mike had discovered a sudden need to visit the bathroom; Spike wasn't the only one who was enjoying himself.
After having dealt with the business in hand and cleaned himself up, Mike returned to the living room. Spike was so pleased to see him that he rolled over and waved his nice new legs and paws in the air and wriggled invitingly. Mike gave his chest and his belly a comprehensive scratching. Tyler wished he hadn't bothered with the jockstrap after all.
Mike reached over the end of the sofa and scrabbled around trying to locate something that, all the while he was pleasuring Spike, was out of sight. He found it. "Aaahh! Look what Master's got you." Spike rolled over and sat with his tongue out. Mike had found one of those multi-coloured ropes with knots at both ends that are used as dog chew-toys. "Fetch it, boy."
Mike threw the thing over Spike's head. It hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor. "Yip!" Spike turned, made another attempt at wagging his tail and walked over in the approved manner to collect his new toy. The large knots made it reasonably easy to pick up by the middle in his mouth and Spike returned with his trophy to his master "Ooo, ooo." Well, it was the nearest he could get to "Woof, woof." in the circumstances.
Tyler was usually pleased to play the subservient role but he couldn't always suppress his dominant characteristics. He thought it was time to step the relationship up a level. Now what would Spike do?
Spike sat holding the toy with the two large knots flopping against his chin. Then he went for it. "Ooo, ooo" and he thrust his nose, the toy and all right into Mike's crotch. THAT'S what Spike would have done! There was no mistaking that smell.
After the initial surprise, Mike recognised the action for what it was and, let's face it, his recent departure for the bathroom wasn't going to prevent his coming to almost immediate attention in the circumstances. "Mnnn, Mnnn".
Mike had the choice: roll up a magazine and apply it sharply to his eager pet's head or just roll with it. Those adoring Hazel eyes (not to mention the proximity of Spike's face to his rapidly expanding person) made up his mind. Mike began an intense tickling behind Spike's ears, a scruffing of his hair and then a prolonged massage of his cheeks and chin. It took great self control on Spike's behalf to stop him dropping his toy to get even closer to his master.
A protracted session of doggie wrestling then took place. Spike obviously had to drop his nice new toy if he was to be able to lick his master's face and he did lick that face, and not only his face as the new carpet got nearly as good a workout as Tyler's jockstrap. A man and his dog soon lay, exhausted, on their backs, side by side. Not only the dog was panting.
"Tyler?"
"Yeah?"
"Naughty boy! Doggies don't talk, remember."
"Hey man, you called me Tyler!"
"Or answer back. I can see I've got a lot of training to do yet. You need to deal with that?" So saying Mike gave Tyler's over-extended jockstrap a hefty back-hander. That nearly dealt with the problem there and then. "Come on, Tyler, you've had a long journey and you've got another one ahead of you tomorrow. We'll have time to play before you go but all play and no rest will make Tyler a liability on the highway."
"Yeah, I know, you're right. Tell you what: you want to do it for me?"
"Not yet, man. Let's get you human again.
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Mike was probably right. As much as he wouldn't have minded a greater level of intimacy, especially just then, the two had a lot to learn about one another. They had "chatted" at length on the net and spoken on the telephone but they'd only had that one brief face to face in that diner. That was enough to reassure them that they both wanted this meet up but neither wanted to jeopardise their potential relationship by putting the other off at this stage. Mike couldn't resist thinking that things would have been so much easier if Spike was a complete sub without Tyler's dominant tendencies. Oh well, real life has a habit of interfering with fantasies.
All traces of Spike soon disappeared (unless you count his jockstrap) and Tyler went into the bathroom to shower and release certain internal tensions. He reappeared with one of Mike's towels wrapped round his slender hips and still towelling off the hair that seemed to vary between brown and black depending upon how it was standing or lying. Mike appreciated the curves of his friend's figure. His slenderness led up to a fine pair of shoulders and trim but well defined pecs. "Hey man, who the hell has black towels?"
"Well, if you don't like it, you can always take it off." Tyler grinned. Maybe he'd save that for later.
Just then the buzzer sounded. Tyler tensed involuntarily. "Chill, Bro, it's just the pizza." Mike reached for his wallet and headed for the door. Tyler continued drying his hair.
Mike opened the boxes, laid them on the coffee table and sat on his sofa; Tyler discarded the towel that he was using on his hair, throwing it towards the bathroom, and joined his host on the sofa. He examined the three boxes closely.
"OK, so garlic bread I understand but a "Neopolitan" and a "New England Greek"? Where's the meat, man? Dogs don't eat veg. Give the puppy meat, Master."
"You're not Spike at the minute, My Man. Dig in." It was enough to make Tyler get down on his hands and knees and bite Mike's leg. He did, however, eat from all three boxes under protest. Necking a couple of beers from the bottle did help to take his mind off the fact that his supper contained zero dead animal.
The two guys settled to desultory conversation and watched a video that neither of them would have wanted their mothers to see, until it was mutually agreed that it was time to retire. Spike was a tired little puppy and Tyler wasn't much better.
It had come to the delicate matter of sleeping arrangements.
TBC