Clay followed Alan to the front door when they arrived back at his place. Alan unlocked the door and the two moved inside. Clay was carrying the bag he'd brought his pup gear to the shop in earlier that same day, only this time, It held most of what had been added, save for the shorts. Clay proceeded to the guest room while Alan went to fix himself a pre game drink. Clay had found the room empty, but the chest Coach had loaded up into the truck last was open and displaying all kinds of different gear, Most of it looking untouched for quite some time to the kid. He assumed his Sir was still in the bathroom preparing, So he set his bag on the bed and moved to the door before knocking lightly. He received a response quickly after.
"I'll be just another moment, pup. Go get yourself ready. Wait in the bedroom with the door closed behind you when finished. Sit with your back to the door, Eyes forward. Leave your collar off, but nearby. Notify me when you're ready." Clay knew his Sir wasn't always one for theatrics, but also knew that the training for the past few days all came down to this moment. The first time meeting his handler should be done right. He simply replied with a "Yes Sir," and proceeded to the bedroom to obey the command. He stripped down to nothing, inserted his plug, and began to dress himself fully in the pup gear, save for the collar as commanded, Which he placed on the bed. It took him about seven minutes to gear up fully, (The tail was a bit trickier to get through the hole in the shorts than expected,) before letting out a cheerful "Arf," to signal he was ready and in position. He heard the door to the restroom open and anxiously awaited his Sir. Like a good puppy.
Rusty was finished dressing already, but gave the kid the command for two reasons. The main one, was he wanted the first time his pup saw him as a handler to be done right. The other, was just plain procrastination. He had quelled most of his inner doubt, but the finality was setting in. The time was now... Daddy Duncan would remain buried no more. He eased and sorted his thoughts a while longer before he heard an "Arf," from the next room over just a few moments later. He took a deep breath, spared one last glance in the mirror, and proceeded to meet his eager puppy.
When Coach arrived at the door and opened it, He took a moment to appreciate what he saw. His pup was obediently sitting just as commanded, decked out in the new and old gear alike with his back to the doorway. His head was straight forward. Rusty couldn't help but relish how delicious the pup looked, from the snug harness, to the little silicone tail protruding happily from the hole in those tight ass shorts. The sight wasn't lost on his tool either as he felt it begin to stir, bulging nicely in the pocket of his denim jeans framed by the chaps. (Then again, if you had some sexy ass puppy boy kneeling obediently in front of you, you would probably sport your own arousal.) Coach took two steps forward and lightly closed the door behind him before approaching his pups backside.
Clay heard the faint click of the door behind him and knew his Sir was now there. Every muscle in his body wanted to spin around and greet his handler, but he made himself fight the urge and simply continued to look forward. It seemed unfair really, to stare at a simple wall when he knew there was a stud behind him, but he also knew his patience would be rewarded. His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of a large hand resting lightly on his shoulder and a deep voice accompanying it.
"Good evening, pup, you're looking quite nice in your gear. Andy did well. I hope you're enjoying the feel of it as much as I do the sight?" Clay almost replied with a "Yes Sir," but caught himself in time and thought back to his training, Instead he replied with an enthusiastic short bark. (A single one meant yes.) He felt the older man's hand raise up just a bit and pat his shoulder some before he continued.
"Good boy. Are you ready for tonight?" Again, the pup replied with a singular bark.
"Good, that makes two of us... Alright then, pup, presenting position, eyes to the ground. Close them when you're done. You will follow these next few commands precisely. You will take no liberties with them. Only do as I say, nothing else." Clay, the good puppy he was, happily obliged the man by leaning forward on his hands and bending his elbows so his front was lowered while his rear was upright. He locked his gaze to the floor directly beneath him and closed his eyes. He heard the stud moving from behind him to stand in front. He was pretty certain he could get away with a peek without his Sir catching on, considering his face was hidden like it was, but he wouldn't chance it. He enjoyed being obedient far too much to do that. The next command came shortly after.
"Open your eyes, but keep your gaze down."
Clay eagerly did just that, and was greeted with the sight of one freshly polished combat boot beneath his gaze. He could even make out the distorted, light reflection of his hood staring back at him. He gazed down at the leather beneath him for a moment before his Sir decided he'd admired them from that angle long enough.
"Here, let me help you get a closer look." Clay felt his Sir's other boot pressing lightly on the back of his head at that remark, pushing it down until the snout of the hood was barely pressing against it. The faint smell of polish and leather invaded Clay's nose. Something about the scene and the presence of his master's boot on his head made his own arousal begin to grow. His Sir spoke again.
"Do you like my boots pup? I cleaned them up just for you." Clay replied with his single bark again, He found he strangely did like them.
"Good. I did miss a spot on the toe though, perhaps you could get it for me?" Though it was worded as a question, Clay knew it was far from a request. It was an order. The idea of boot worship never really seemed like something he'd enjoy, but it wasn't exactly a hard limit by any means. He lowered his head, pressed his snout a little more into the leather, and extended his tongue. The polish didn't have as bad nor as strong a taste as he expected, Probably due to Rusty's thoroughness when removing the extra. After the first initial taste test, he began to quicken the pace, lapping at the smooth leather while the weight of his Sir's other boot on his skull gently coaxed him on. Coach Duncan watched on in contempt as his obedient pup submitted to his whim. He let the boy get a few more licks in before he removed the boot from the back of his head and ordered him to stop.
