Training her Pup Ch. 08: Stud

I wake up to barking and a pile of letters on the doormat. You have your front paws on the windowsill and are growling at the postman who is hurrying away down the street casting furtive glances over his shoulder. I don't know what you have against the poor man; he's been nothing but nice to me ever since I opened the door to him in just my sheer negligee, and yet something about him really seems to get your hackles up. It's a mystery.

However, thoughts of the postman disappear when I spot an important-looking letter with The Kennel Club's official insignia. After two weeks of waiting on your DNA tests, I was overjoyed to get confirmation from the vet that you are a pedigree after all. A purebred Berger Picard sheepdog, unless she is very much mistaken. Of course, your genes make no odds to me, but they are all important to The Kennel Club. And so, after filling in numerous forms and sending them your test results, I applied for their approval to be registered in their prestigious Stud Book. It looks like today we will have our answer.

I don't want to rush this moment, so I click my fingers by my thigh, and you trot obediently to heel as I return to the sitting room and sit in my favourite chair. Automatically, you go to nose between my thighs, but I amiably push you away.

'Not now, boy! We have an important letter, and it deserves our full attention.' You lay your shaggy chin on my knee and look up at me solemnly. I smile. Sometimes it's as if you truly understand every word I say!

I carefully peel open the seal, despite wanting to rip into it like a kid on Christmas morning and take a deep breath before pulling out the expensive heavy stock stationary. As you look up at me, seemingly listening to every word, I read you their response.

'Dear Ms Kissme,

I am delighted to inform you that your pup Rascal's DNA and pedigree have been reviewed by the Stud committee and we have been able to trace his bloodline back six generations, including two Best in Shows at Crufts. Therefore, it is with great pleasure that I enclose certification indicating his allocation of Stud Book number (3069DA). This, of course, means that he will be listed in the forthcoming iteration of the prestigious Kennel Club Stud Book, which you can order for an extremely reasonable price by visiting our website.

We would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the motto of the responsible breeder of pedigree dogs is "Breed to Improve." That is to say, a breeder's litter should always be a well thought out improvement on its previous generation. Quality over quantity should be your watchword.

Yours faithfully

Arabella Fitzwilliam (Mrs)

Secretary

The Kennel Club'

You're in!

My first phone call is to Elaine. I want to give her first refusal for Vixen, should she or Sasha choose to breed her. I know that you are rather sweet on that slutty little pup, and it would be so adorable if the two of you were to have a litter together. Elaine is tempted, but regretfully declines as Vixen will soon be changing ownership and such decisions will be up to Sasha. However, she suggests that I advertise your services more widely.

It doesn't take much online research to see that stud dogs are in big demand with owners of high-class bitches everywhere. I spend the rest of the evening working on your profile and post it to the most popular stud sites in the area.

Details: Rascal is a very handsome, show-winning, pedigree pup with a short, wiry, sandy-coloured coat. He has a fantastic temperament: curious, friendly, playful and loyal. He has a protective nature and will always go the extra mile to keep those around him safe. Rascal is an active boy and enjoys playing fetch and performing tricks and is quick to win everyone over with his big blue eyes and cuddly nature. Despite not being raised with young children he has always been very gentle with them. He often spends time with other non-neutered dogs and has never had any issues. Rascal has a full bill of clean health and has vet and Kennel Club certification to support his excellent breeding credentials. We are willing to travel to you and feel free to get in contact to see his Instagram profile!

I scroll through the vast collection of photos on my phone and social media to find your most handsome and endearing shots, including one where you are lying on your back excitedly getting your tummy tickled -- it's only fair potential customers can see the proud package that you are offering!

With your profile posted, it's time for one last cuddle before bed. Normally, I'd retire to my cosy double bed, and you'd go to your pet bed in the kitchen but on this momentous occasion, I snap my fingers and you follow me excitedly to my bedroom. You settle comfortably at the foot of my bed as I go about my night-time routine, your eyes following me as I move about, especially when I strip out of my clothes and into a short silky nightie. Ruffling your fur and planting a kiss on your nose, I slip between the sheets and turn out the lights.

I've not been asleep long before I am awoken by a shaggy head and warm tongue exploring under the covers. I'm not sure whether the dishevelled state of my nightie is a result of me tossing and turning after the excitement of the letter, or if you have been tugging at it with your teeth, but now it is bunched up above my waist, with one strap low down on my arm, exposing an expanse of creamy skin and a ripe, pebbled nipple. It's dark in the bedroom, but moonlight streams in through a gap in the curtains and I can see the excitement shining in your eyes as you root between my thighs for your honeyed midnight feast.

I've got a busy day ahead of me and I should push you away or banish you to the kitchen, but why not celebrate? Being the owner of a pedigree pup is a big deal, especially one who has The Kennel Club Stud seal of opinion and, in due course, I will have the pride of knowing there are many more little rascals running around bringing joy to their new owners.

And so, as you look up at me questioningly, I peel off my nightie and throw off the covers. Spreading my thighs, I click my fingers to direct your attention to where it is needed. An area that is glistening wetly in the moonlight. And like the good boy you are, you diligently set about cleaning your Mistress.

When I wake after a busy night of fun, I roll over to see my sweet pup spark out. Ahh, bless. You're belly up, snoring happily, your muzzle sticky with all the honey you greedily gobbled down last night. I give you a little tummy tickle and that certainly wakes you up! Immediately you are excited and ready to play.

'Not now, rascal,' I chuckle, 'We'll never get anything done if we play in bed all day! I need to check my email and see what interest your profile had raised.'

Hopping out of bed, I walk naked to the bathroom, hearing you padding after me. As you normally rush ahead, I can only assume you are staying back to enjoy the view. You sit at my feet as I start the shower and I giggle as you try to get in it with me! I've never known a pup enjoy bathing as much as you. I nudge you out and slide the door shut, aware that you are watching my hands as I lather up my body before shampooing my long, dark locks. With the water streaming down my thrusting breasts, I wipe away the condensation and blow you a soapy kiss.

You bark happily, 'Arrff! ArrRRFF-ARRFFF!' My sweet boy.

As I step out of the cubicle, you jump up and try to help dry me by lapping at the water droplets that cling to my skin. Always so helpful!

'Down boy! I can dry myself,' I chuckle, wrapping myself in a soft, fluffy towel. I bend down with a warm, wet flannel and give your face and snout a wipe. It'll do for now, but if you are going to win over the pretty bitches as a stud dog, you are definitely going to need to keep up with your grooming sessions with Sasha.

Once dressed in a fluffy robe, I fix myself a bowl of cereal and refresh your crunchy kibble and water, then bring it to the table where I open my laptop. Time to check my emails.

'Oh my, you are a popular boy! Twelve responses already! Let's see what we have here.'

Over the next half hour, I read out the responses. Some owners have included photos of their needy bitches and I angle the laptop down so you can see the potential choices. All of them are more mature than you - they have all had at least one frustratingly solo heat already and know exactly what they need to ride out their next one. I look at their profiles. There is quite a range of breeds, ages and locations so I take my time looking at each one. Finally, I have narrowed it down to three; a fancy French poodle, an adorable white fluffy Samoyed and an exotic looking Saluki. All are beautiful and with your good looks added to the mix, any pups you breed together will be gorgeous.

The final say goes to you. After all, you are the one who has to do the deed, so it's only fair that you choose your baby mama. I decide that I will show you each picture in turn and judge by the tone of your barks and yips which one you are most keen to meet.

First up is the French poodle, Fifi. She is perhaps the most glamorous dog of all the email responses with her elaborate hairstyle and cool elegance. Bursting with European chic and a regal bearing, it would be easy to imagine that this haughty bitch is all fluff and no substance. However, according to her profile, her owner states that she is extremely intelligent, and very obedient. 'Beauty and brains, eh boy? What do you think?'

You bark excitedly. Yes, you like the look of her, I can tell. I wonder if any of my other choices can top that response?

I bring up the picture of the little Samoyed, Sami. She is by far the cutest bitch and I for one just want to cuddle her and stroke her thick, soft fur. Surely, she'll appeal to you too? She is the smallest of my potential choices and, according to her owner she is very proud of her good looks, enjoys a lot of daily grooming and barks a LOT, with a high-pitched, somewhat piercing voice. Well, it's not as though you will be spending much time with her, and if she is especially vocal during the breeding then that's not really a problem, is it?

But apparently, she does not appeal as not a sound passes your lips and you turn away, suddenly more interested in your kibble than the potential mate in front of you. I see, so that's a firm no. That's OK, we have one more lovely lady for your consideration. I feel like I'm presenting The Bachelor!

Okay, Bachelorette number three, Cleopatra. If the dog world had a ballerina, no doubt it would be the long, slender, elegant Saluki I see before me. Not only is she beautiful -- long-legged with a sleek, shiny coat -- she is also, according to her profile, warm, intelligent, and loving. Apparently, she hails from Egypt, which explains her exotic appeal. Like her name suggests, this girl is 100% Egyptian Queen.

You yip excitedly, nosing the picture with interest. It's a good job we haven't invented a way to transmit scents online otherwise you might just be humping the screen! It seems as though you have made your choice, but just to be clear, I ask, 'This one, rascal? You want to go and meet the lovely Cleo?'

'ARRFFFFF! ARRRRRFFFF!!'

We have a winner!

I immediately call Cleo's Lady owner, Jennie, and she is overjoyed that her girl has been selected for your first outing as a stud pup. I agree to meet Jennie and her husband at her home, which is less than an hour's drive from here. She explains that Cleo had been restless and snappy for days now, which was a sure sign of her onset into heat. She tells me that her last heat was a trial, with her howling and humping the furniture in her frustrated arousal, and this is what motivated them to order the services of a stud. We agree that we'll introduce the two of you and, if you hit it off, the mating could happen as early as today. Exciting times!

'Sit still, rascal!' I scold with a smile in my voice. You are a wriggling mass of excited fur, and it is proving almost impossible to groom you effectively. I want to make a good impression, so I am determined to have you looking your best. Unfortunately, there is no time to take you to Sasha so I'm having to do my best. It has to be said, you are not making it any easier! I have your nails to clip, your fur to brush and, hardest of all, your teeth to clean. We don't want you breathing doggy breath all over Cleo's owners when we meet.

Finally, finally we are ready. I've polished your collars and clipped your lead on securely. I can only imagine how much of a struggle it will be to control you once you get your first sniff of Cleo's heat hormones!

The car journey seems longer than an hour because you are restless and agitated. I know you are excited and possibly also a little anxious. Every owner thinks that her puppy is the best dog in the world, but a first meeting with a hormonal bitch may not go smoothly. We both need to be prepared for that.

There is a park just before we reach the house, and we stop briefly. I allow you a few minutes to sniff around, cock your leg and expend some of your pent-up energy chasing squirrels so that you are ready for your meeting.

And then we are there.

As Jennie opens the door, she is alone, but we can hear whining and scratching down the hallway. She welcomes us in and quirks her lips wryly as a particularly loud howl greets us.

'Hello, how lovely to meet you, Kate, and you, rascal.' She gives you a warm smile and holds out her hand for you to sniff. 'Do come in. As you can hear, Cleo is very excited to meet you!'

I have your lead firmly wrapped around my hand, but still you are tugging determinedly towards the closed door. You have caught her scent and you are already going into the rut.

'Can I suggest,' Jennie starts, 'that we begin by having a chat in the living room? I think that once the pups actually meet, it will make talking rather difficult.' I think she has a point!

Talking is still not easy with two horny pups voicing their unhappiness at being forcibly separated from each other. I have to hold you close and continue to insist that you sit quietly and wait. Patience isn't really in a pup's repertoire and our chat is punctuated by sharp tugs to your smallest collar. The fact that you are so excited, and that your puppy balls are swollen with need, probably makes this more effective, because we are able to finish our conversation.

Jennie introduces me to Scott, her husband of twenty years. The two of them are unable to have children and have channelled their love and energies into their pets. Apart from Cleo, they also own a kitten, Kizzy, who is curled up in Scott's lap. Unlike you, she is calm and sleepy, unconcerned about the canine commotion occurring around her. As Scott strokes her silky hair, she purrs contentedly. This is clearly a pet-loving family who will care effectively for any pups that Cleo whelps.

I talk to the couple about the motto which the Kennel Club promoted - "Breed to Improve." I need to be sure that there are no inherited conditions that might affect your offspring. They assure me that they are in touch with Cleo's breeders, and she is free of all inheritable conditions. Her beautiful, soft hair is a family trait and there is a good chance that your pups will inherit this. While I love running my fingers through your short, wiry hair, I can see that soft, silky-haired pups would be rather adorable. Jennie and Scott have a big, comfortable home and are excited to raise any and all pups that come from this pairing.

With all my questions answered I am happy to proceed, so now it is time for you to meet your over-excited paramour.

Jennie leaves the room, and much barking and scrabbling occurs as the kitchen door is opened and Cleo is leashed and brought into the sitting room. You are locked onto your target, your body straining to get closer, a low growl of arousal emanating from your lips. Jennie brings her closer and finally the two of you are face to face. Cleo really is a beautiful animal -- lithe and sleek, with a slim feathery tail. Her beautiful long silky hair cascades over her chest. Despite her slender form, she has long, prominent nipples, peaking between the silky strands. Your pups will have no trouble latching on to such impressive teats.

Surging forward, she nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing her nose against you, breathing in your scent. Then her tongue snakes out and licks the seam of your lips, which you must take as an invitation because your tongue comes out to greet hers and together you taste each other's unique flavour. There is no battle for dominance. Let us not forget that this girl is an Egyptian Queen and is used to getting her way. Judging by the way you are totally in the thrall of this beautiful bitch, I think it is clear who is the alpha dog in this union!

Cleopatra knows what she wants, and she wants you! If you were in any doubt, the way she turns and presents to you, lowering her chest to the carpet the better to lift her haunches and tail high, tells you all you need to know. Your breeding services are required. Now!

The inviting position gives you an unimpeded view of Cleo's girl parts, which are flushed and swollen with arousal. She is literally dripping with honeyed slick, which has glazed the tops of her thighs and soaked the closely groomed fur of her underbelly. If her spayed lips are the target then your throbbing puppy penis is the arrow. An arrow which is straining to be unleashed. And so, I quickly unclip your lead and am about to unsnap your collar, but you are too fast for me. The moment the lead comes off, you are on her. Your paws grip her haunches and you plunge home with one stroke, then rut frenziedly as she howls with pleasure and pushes herself backwards, impaling herself more deeply with every stroke.

To say this is an animal coupling is an understatement. There is howling and whimpering, growling and yipping as the two of you follow your instincts to slake your lusts. Even Kizzy lifts her sleepy head to watch the spectacle in front of her. Both Jennie and Scott are speechless, and my mouth is dry as I watch you in action. You are magnificent!

And when Cleo throws her head back and howls her completion, you are not far behind. One, two more stuttering thrusts and you are growling your release as you flood her hungry channel with your thick, rich puppy outpourings, seeding her empty womb with virile cream.

As you both collapse, panting, there is a hush, broken by Jennie's laughing voice, 'Well, I think that did the job!'

We all agree. If Cleo has not got a pup or two in the oven after today then it is not for want of trying! Of course, I assure them that if she is not pregnant, then I'd be happy to bring rascal over for another go.

'That's alright with you, isn't it, boy?' I ask as you flop onto your back, your spent puppy penis laying stickily on your furry belly.

You look up at me, a fuck-drunk smile on your face.

'ArrRRRFFF! ARRRFFF!'