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It's a beautiful summer day, and I'm whistling to myself as I rotate the can opener, dumping the contents into the metal bowl. I look at the dog bed on the floor- empty. I'm surprised that the sound of the opener isn't enough to begin a small stampede of one, but am grateful for small blessings.

If anyone had told me years ago that I would be training a puppy, and that I would be happy about it, I would have laughed in their faces. A cat person, bred and born, that was me. But sometimes the perfect puppy just falls into your lap, and then what can you do? Those big eyes, that excitedly wagging tail... you fall in love and it's all over.

"C'mere Pup! It's time for breakfast!" I call into the house, and from a distant room, I hear him coming. I hear the clunk of his body as it hits the floor (probably he shunned his dog bed for mine, again) and the scrabble as he struggles to gain purchase on the wooden floors. Then he starts to bark, joyously, and it echoes through the otherwise empty house. I laugh as he bowls into the kitchen, licking my hands, pushing his head against my legs, and begging for his breakfast. I put the bowl down for him, and it's all slurping noises and wagging tails.

My puppy isn't like other puppies, mind. I don't often take him to the dog park or out for walks, though I do sometimes let him run around in the back garden. He's stand out among the other puppies. He's 5' 10", brunette, with blue blue eyes and pale skin that looks so pretty when I cane him. He's not as furry as the other puppies, and he's generally naked except for some knee pads and his puppy mitts. At least I don't have to take him out to use the bathroom- Pup's potty trained!

I'm particularly excited about today because I've taught him some tricks and it's time for us to practice them. I want to enter him in the Dog and Pony show, and he needs to be in fighting form. We've been working on the basics- sit, stay, roll over, heel, fetch. He's still a little too excitable to heel properly, and he gets distracted when fetching, but we have some time. I make myself some tea, get a jar of peanut butter and some biscuits, and pick up my book, settling into the living room to wait for my Pup to be done with his breakfast.

I'm only a couple of pages in when his nose nudges my book out of the way, his big blue eyes looking hopeful. I smile and rub him just behind his ear- he loves that. Then I reach behind me and grab his collar, the tags jingling as I show it to him. He pants.

"Sit," I say firmly, and he sits promptly, his legs folded underneath him, his uncut cock peeking out between his thighs. I buckle the collar around his neck and kiss his forehead. "Good boy," I murmur, and he barks with pleasure. Now it's time for practice to begin.

"Present!"

He quickly obeys, on his hands and knees, back arched, his legs shoulder length apart. Pup stays perfectly still as I walk around him, examining his teeth, his muscle tone, his cock (which is getting harder by the second). Kneeling beside him, I tickle and tease his sides, watching him tense, wanting to squirm but wanting to please me. I pat his head. All this practice is paying off.

"Ok!" I cry brightly, and he relaxes and licks my cheek. Ugh. I'm still not used to that! But I can't help but laugh. I pick up a fuzzy squeaky toy from his dog bed and wave around. "Come on, let's go outside and get to work, boy!"

He scrambles down the stairs and scratches at the door, whining a little. I give him a warning look. "No whinging!" I scold, and open the door to let him out. Immediately he starts rolling around in the grass. There's not a lot of space in my garden so we've had to adapt. I toss the toy a few feet and say, "go fetch, Pup!"

I watch him hurl himself at the toy, picking it up in his teeth and dropping it at my feet, panting. Being my Pup is an active proposition! It's far more fun than the gym, though.I toss the toy another couple of times, admiring his ass as he scampers about. Then it's time for the commands. We have "sit" down, so I want to practice "heel" and "roll over".

We start with the rolling and I giggle watching him roll around in the grass. For a show it needs to be more controlled, not just flailing, so I use a clicker to tell him when he's doing well, and a rolled up newspaper correct him and keep him in line. Whenever he gets the move correct I click and feed him some biscuit with peanut butter on it. What? I've learned a lot from "It's Me or the Dog".

When I'm satisfied with his ability to roll on command, we practice heel. I love the idea of him walking just behind me, perfectly positioned to be my companion when out at fetish events, but he gets pretty overstimulated and gets under my feet. This time I start with him on a leash, telling him to heel and waiting until we're synced. There's something really special about our connection when we practice this together, a loving control that comes out more easily during these training sessions than any other time. And it really, really turns me on.

It doesn't take long before I decide I'm satisfied with his work and I'm wet and horny and want him on me. We've never taken this step, though, and I'm not sure how to ask my human puppy if he's willing to take this further. So I dip my fingers in the peanut butter, sitting on one of the gardening stools, and let him lick my fingers clean, murmuring "good boy, good boy" as I ruffle his hair. I decide to take a chance and dip my fingers in again, only this time I raise my skirts and spread the peanut butter over my inner thigh.

"Go ahead boy," I say softly, and, after looking at me questioningly, he begins to lick gently at the peanut butter, moving closer and closer to my panties. Pup sniffs them, unsure at first, then he gets into it too, nuzzling my cunt through the cloth. I moan, softly, one hand gripping a leg on the stool. Then he pushes more insistently, and I see that this is as hot for him as it is for me- his cock is rock hard now, and he's rubbing it ever so slightly on my boot. I stand briefly to pull the panties off, sitting back on the stool and spreading my legs wide to give him access.

His tongue teases my labia at first, slipping between my lips to probe my clit. I gasp. It's so intense, being outside, thegrass tickling my ankles, the sun on my thighs, my Pup licking and nibbling at my cunt. He flicks his tongue over my clit, little sparks of pleasure followed by long, sensual strokes that push me closer and closer to the edge. Finally I can't take it and I shove him away- he whimpers, confused, but I lie on the grass and reach for him.

"Come," I whisper, brokenly, and he does, mounting me and thrusting into me in one swoop. He fucks me there on the grass, hard, growling and biting my neck as I cry out and dig my nails into his back. I draw some blood and smear it on his face, feeling primal. We fuck, as you might imagine, like animals. I cum intensely, with a guttural growl of my own, biting into his shoulder hard enough to bruise.

He cums soon after, shuddering into my body as I tell him in his ear what a good puppy, what a filthy puppy he is, how proud he makes me. I feel overwhelmed by my love for him, fiercely protective. Mine mine mine.

We lie there, dazed, and watch the clouds- I mostly clothed, pressed against his naked body.

"With more practices like this", I think, "we're going to own that dog show!"