Buster and Me

My neighbor knew I really needed some income and he knew I was good with dogs, so he recommended me when a new guy at work mentioned he needed someone to walk his dog every afternoon and sit with it on weekends.

I opened the door the next afternoon to find a beautiful boxer named Buster sitting there at the heels of an equally striking man with a salt and pepper beard. He smiled at me and introduced himself as Dillon and asked to come inside. He said he always checks out the homes of his dog-sitters.

He sat at the couch, Buster at his heels, and I went for coffee and to find some kind of snack for Buster. "Nothing for the dog, now," he said, "he gets treats for performance."

I told Dillon what a beautiful dog Buster was, and was happy to see him so well-behaved. Dillon warned me that he was hard to control when on a walk in sight of other dogs. Then we talked about what Dillon expected of us, and offered his home for me to house sit when sitting with Buster. Once all the details were worked out and I had a key, Dillon left me with Buster.

We spent the weekend together, Buster and I. We learned how to handle each other, how to give each other space, etc. Buster had a little cage next to Dillon's bed where he was to sleep. Both nights, though, he would whine until I went into the bedroom and laid down next to him on the floor. Apparently he had never had to sleep alone before. I didn't mind too much. My ex used to make me sleep on the floor often. Said it was good for my ego. I got used to it.

So I was kind of surprised and embarrassed when Dillon woke us up the second night. I had been asleep about two hours when he came in. I stammered a little about Buster and not wanting to be alone, and he just said "No one likes to sleep alone, right?" He apologized for coming home early without warning me and insisted I stay the rest of the night. I started down the hall to the guest room and he asked where I was going. "You can sleep here next to Buster if you want. He has really taken to you, I can tell."

I had been wondering what Dillon would look like naked, and I thought this might be a good opportunity to find out. "Go ahead and get comfortable," he said "I don't have to go in early tomorrow, maybe we can have breakfast on the deck." And with that he stripped almost in one motion. As I was pulling my briefs off and reaching for my blanket, he turned to face me and said "Till tomorrow, then." I was kind of shocked to see almost no cock at all above a beautiful set of swinging balls.

I remember as I was falling asleep that I didn't have to worry about getting raped, anyway. Although with that face, it was a shame he didn't have much of a cock.

Over the next few weeks, Buster and I were out most days and every weekend. Dillon didn't make any more unexpected visits home, and I got quite used to sleeping next to Buster on the floor of the master bedroom. One afternoon when I was returning Buster home, Dillon saw my yellow hanky and asked if I knew what that meant in "certain" circles. By this time I knew I didn't have to be coy with Dillon, so I said "It means I love piss, man piss, almost any way I can get it," I said.

"Well, then, come on in, and hurry! I have to piss like a race horse." And with that a new chapter was begun. I noticed that Buster was really interested in me when my face was buried in his master's crotch. "Don't mind him," Dillon said, "he's always curious when there is someone on my cock."

After that I would usually stick around for him to return when bringing Buster back from our daily walk. Dillon really liked pissing down my throat. He often would comment that it felt to him as if he was coming in a long stream. Once in a while I would stay over and we would suck cock back and forth for a while. He was happy to have me sleep on the floor, and I was used to it. Buster adapted to me being there with no problem. Initially I thought it was kind of difficult to do justice to such a small cock when sucking him off, but I found a number of moves that seemed to work really well.

When the next notice came in from my landlord about back rent, I knew I was in trouble. Dillon and Buster both noticed I wasn't on my game, and so I had to explain what had me down. He snapped his fingers, pointed to me and said "How would you like to take care of my house as well as my dog?"

So I moved in over the next week. I put everything away in the guest room but I have yet to sleep there. I still sleep on the floor next to Buster. Sometimes Dillon gets up in the middle of the night to take a piss and all he has to do is touch me with his foot for me to know he is ready. I drink all his piss when he is home. He threatened to have me visit at work so he could go 24 hours without using a urinal. I would go, hell, I would do anything for him. I told him that and he just spent the longest time looking at me. "All right, then, let's see what happens," he said.

The next afternoon he came home a little later than usual. While I was guzzling his piss at the front landing just inside the door, he started pulling stuff out of a big paper bag. "I picked up a few things I thought you might want to investigate," he said. As I put his cock back in his jeans, my gaze moved to what he was holding in his hand.

Dillon had a thick, heavy dog collar, a chain leash almost five feet long, and a dog dish more than a foot wide. Both the collar and the dish were labeled with large letters SPOT. Without even thinking about it my cock was getting hard and I was speechless. I had never thought of living like a dog before, or being treated as if I was one, but suddenly I knew it was right.

"Oh Master!" I said, dropping to my knees. "Please may I wear your collar? Will you treat me when I am good and spank me when I misbehave?"

All Master said was "Then you need to misbehave often. Now off with your clothes, we are all going for a walk."

Master led us to the car in the garage, opened the back seat for Buster and me, and closed us in. When He opened the windows we were allowed to stick our heads out and taste the air. We finally came to a farm over a half hour away. I had to piss, and I was pretty sure Buster did also. "OK guys, out you get!" He said, as he opened the door for us. Buster ran over to a tree and put his leg up like he had been there before. "You better join your brother if you want to piss before getting locked up inside." He said. I moved over kind of slow, being on all fours for the first time, and tried putting my leg up facing the tree. It seemed to take forever but I finally managed to relax enough to get it to spray out. Just as I was finished, Master opened his jeans in front of me and pulled out his cock. As I was drinking Him down He said "That's a good boy! See, already we know there is something you do better than Buster."

Master led us into the farmhouse where there were hunting dogs, a couple men in plaid shirts and dirty jeans, and another naked guy in a collar (really young - maybe not more than 25) kneeling by the heels of one of the other men. "Well, here is Spot," Master said "He knows a few tricks, but this is his first day in a collar and on his knees. You guys are going to have to train us both."

We spent the next few days training. I learned how to sit properly, beg, shake, fetch, fetch Master's belt when I needed punishment, and much more.

We have gone back out there to visit them a few times. It is the only place Master feels comfortable having me outside naked in collar with a leash. We are going to a clothing optional leather campout next year. I can hardly wait. I still dress normally during the day (plus the collar) when I take Buster to the park. The men at the farm showed us a new trick the last time we were there. They had Boy (the name of their human dog) lay down with his arms in a particular arrangement and both hounds went over and pissed on his arms. Everyone had a great laugh about that. Buster and I watched really closely. Now whenever we go to the park, I spend a little time every day getting Buster a little closer to doing it for me. We are just about there. He pissed on my lunch sack yesterday. I thought that was good enough to be a separate trick. I think I will call it "Buster, lunch."

Last week Buster and I were eating dinner in the dining room. Something must have smelled awfully good in my bowl, because Buster came over and muscled me out of the way and started eating. "The only fix I can see for that is for you to eat his," Master said. So I went ahead had started eating Buster's dinner. Dog food is really different than the dog-food-like stew I had been having. This happened more than once. Finally, I asked Master if I could just have dog food. I also get to have dog biscuits for treats. The texture is really weird since there are bone chips in it. The dentist says it is ok, so now I am almost entirely a dog.

Master likes entertaining His friends and lets me stay by His heels most of the time if Buster doesn't mind. Sometimes He stations me in the restroom to service His friends when they go to relieve themselves. Sometimes He puts a little apron on me and a stupid little maid's hat and has me serve drinks or dinner. The guys really laugh when they see that. I am glad to be part of the entertainment. Master works hard and is so good to both Buster and me.

Master wants to build a little dungeon room out of the guest room. He has a couple friends that He has worked with before; they can help Him get what He wants together. He told me it is likely I will get fucked by one of these guys, and has told me I won't have any say in the matter. I just wagged my "tail" and slobbered in place. (I'm a good dog, I am!)

Buster and I both were surprised last weekend when Master brought home a guy we didn't think was quite right. We stayed to ourselves, but kept our eyes open. We watched him walk about the house, saw the way he checked to see if Master was looking when He left the room. We were not that interested in what they were doing together on the couch. When it got time for the guy to leave, though, he slipped a couple of the sterling soup spoons in his pocket. I launched at him and Buster started barking so loudly the neighbors were certain to complain. Master was glad that we had stopped the fellow. I wonder how that guy is going to eat in the next few days after the beating he took in the face. Master was still on edge after that guy left. So I went to the guest room and fetched Master's belt - the one he likes to spank we with. "Oh, no, you didn't do anything wrong!" He said, putting the belt beside him on the couch. I picked it up with my muzzle again and pushed it to him. "Sure, I see." He said. "If I beat on you for a while I will come down." And I just grinned and nodded a lot, turning around to present my butt to his swinging hand.

I'll do anything for Master.