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Good Dog [Sekah & BlueAmbient]

Sekah

Star
Joined
Jul 25, 2021
Location
Your mom's house.
It was a clear day in spring, the sky was bright and the air was clean, and Taiga was doing a good thing.

He didn't often do good things, you know - he wasn't exactly known for it - but he'd always had a fondness for animals, and plenty of evidence suggested shifters weren't quite that. That it was unethical to train them to fuck you without consent.

As someone who'd been trained with the same level of rigor to do the same thing, Taiga wanted to prove to himself he could do it. He could get someone else to throw off the bonds of their shackles, as it were.

A cigarette clenched between Taiga's teeth shot cinders like shooting stars behind him into his open Lamborghini. He glanced behind him into the heavy metal kennel the handsome mutt was housed in. He wanted to see if the silly puppy was enjoying the fresh air, the sun, the wind, as much as his owner was. A secret smile curved on his lips as he turned the Lambo off the highway and up into the backwoods of the fancy suburbs outside the city.

They turned into a gorgeous mansion - a massive semi-circle of towering stone façades lining up the long, round driveway, paved with stones. Behind it were long, wide lawns, including a wide lake, and a massive inground pool fed with a delicate water fountain.

As Taiga opened the car door, then opened his new pup's kennel, the cigarette so close to his skin it was in danger of burning it, he knew he seemed like a powerful businessman - that's how he appeared to most people in the world not in the know.

And it was true; he was a very powerful businessman.

Just, all his business wasn't all that, y'know, legal.

"Morning buddy," Taiga said, amused. "Welcome to your new home. Tell me a bit about yourself?"

He reached up to pinch the cig; it singed his fingers, and he winced and brusquely twisted it out in the ashtray inside the car.
 
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Shoto the wolf shifter had been rescued from an illegal brothel, where shifters were the main entertainment. He'd been born there, and training had started far too young. But he learned quickly, and it rapidly became ingrained into his instincts. If he wanted something, he had to earn it. From clients, from staff. What little free time he was allowed was spent on a tie chain in the brothel garden, exploring, playing like a feral pup. He was taught to speak, but reading and writing were never considered. So when he was brought to the shelter, this was listed on his adoption form. Despite his frequent attempts to please staff feeding and bathing him, he was considered adoptable, but his circumstances were also listed. Only specifically approved adopters would be considered. So when the staff loaded Shoto into the metal crate in the car, he'd been practically vibrating with nervous energy. They'd dressed him in soft grey cotton pants and a plain white tee, and normally he would have pulled them off, preferring to be without after growing up for eighteen years in the brothel. But the crate is only big enough for Shoto to curl up. The movement of the vehicle eventually lulled him to sleep.

When the car comes to a stop and the engine shuts off, the change in motion and sound wakes Shoto. He lifts his head, yawning and rubbing at his unusual purple eyes. The car door opens, then the metal crate, and Shoto crawls out. He moves a couple paces away from the car on all fours, then stretches his back in a partial bow, before reversing and pushing his shoulders up to stretch the other way. Blinking, he looks around, before focusing on the man speaking to him. Shoto sits back on his knees, hands flat on the pavement of the driveway. Hi tail sway with the calm energy of a still sleepy dog. "My name is Shoto, and my purpose is to please you. Tell me how I can best service you, sir."

Shoto's voice is light and sweet, without being high-pitched. The words are clearly a well-practiced introduction. When this new man, his new master no doubt, doesn't move, Shoto moves closer, pushing his face against the man's thigh. His right hand touches the man's calf, and his purple eyes look up from where his face is nuzzling the material of the man's pants.
 
The dog-boy was interesting to watch, for more than one reason. He was a total fucken cutie, for one. For two, the way he moved, so reminiscent of a full animal - it was adorable.

Even as the puppy pawed and nuzzled into Taiga's pants, and Taiga's cock twitched as a way to say its hello, Taiga himself merely crouched down before him, so they were face to face, eye to eye. Well, designer sunglasses to eye. "Hey, pup? Nobody's purpose is to please another person. Your purpose is to lead a happy and fulfilling life, darlin'. Say that back to me? My purpose is to lead a happy and fulfilling life."

He reached out and ran those velvet ears between his thumb and forefinger, like sampling a new piece of cloth.
 
Shoto sits as his new master crouches down, tail waving slowly behind him. His eyes flick back and forth from side to side as he watches his reflection in the sunglasses. His ears flick at the man's voice, perking forward to give his full attention. When told to repeat what is said, Shoto is quick to do so. "My purpose is to lead a happy and fulfilling life," then he promptly tacks on, "serving my master in every way." It's clear his training is pretty set in stone.

Shoto leans his his head into the man's hand as he plays with his ears. They're sensitive, and have Shoto leaning into the man. His tail stills for a moment, then continues it's swaying, albeit slightly faster. Shoto's head turns, lips parting and tongue sliding out to lick at his new master's palm. Purple eyes glance at the reflective sunglasses again through dark lashes as that tongue finds it's way around the man's index finger. Another heartbeat, and those smooth lips close around the finger, tongue licking. Shoto wiggles his hips where he's sat on his knees, fingers curling in the grass.
 
The puppy responded immediately. He almost got it.

Not quite.

Taiga let out a rueful laugh. They'd had this boy so much longer than Taiga'd been owned - of course his programming went far deeper than Taiga's had. He reminded himself to be patient. He reminded himself it'd take time.

At first, Taiga doesn't deeply consider the tongue caressing his palm. It felt like any puppy giving you a lick - nothing sexual about it. Even a man as black-hearted as Taiga couldn't think a nefarious thought when a pup licked his hand.

Then he starts licking his finger.

Then, he envelopes it in a hot, wet mouth, caressing him down to the second knuckle. Taiga blew out a rueful chuckle.

"Nice try, boy, but that's not why you're here. And it'll take a bit more than that to seduce me to the point I lose my head." The huskiness of his voice told the lie of that statement. "Come along. We've got to get inside - get you fed, get me fed, and more."
 
Shoto lets out a small whine when the man pulls his hand away. Nevertheless, he follows his new master up to the house, moving on all fours, though his knees don't quite touch the ground. He seems quite at easy moving on such a way, and keeps up with the man well enough. Like a well trained dog in a heel position, Shoto stays at the man's right hand side.

In the house, it's clear Shoto is curious, but he stays close to the man, following him through the house. His brown ears flick every which way, hearing the smallest of sounds and the way they bounce around the walls. His tail waves happily, nose twitching as he breathes in various scents. He stops at every doorway, omly moving through once the man keeps walking. It's as though he's pausing to check if he's allowed in, and follows when he isn't told that he's not. "Sir lives alone." It's not a queston, but a statement. "I only smell Sir's scent here. I will make sure Sir is never lonely." Shoto's voice sounds happy, but the implications of his words are clear.
 
"'Sir' does have frequent maids and groundskeepers come through, sweet boy," Taiga chuckled. "But yes, we'll be the only two to live here. You'll have the pick of the guest bedrooms. Sleep where you want, I don't really care."

He eyed the way the beautiful pup, the curve of his sultry ass so heightened by the plume of his soft tail, waited for him to enter a doorway first. Taiga began to light a cigarette. "I'd like you to go ahead of me, sweet boy. If you want to."

He fished a gold lighter out of his suit coat and it soon flared to life. The front of his luxury cigarette glowed deep orange in the flame. He took a deep, calming lungful of smoke. He blew it out politely away from his new pet.

He thought he'd get another ridiculous slavey answer, but he still asked, voice husky, "Does the smoke bother you, boy? Do you want me to stop?"
 
Shoto turns around when he realizes Taiga stopped at the door. He comes back, watching the man light the cigarette, inhale from it, then blow the smoke away. Shoto shivers at the way his master's voice sounds. Leaning forward, he pushes his head against Taiga's hand, seeking attention. "It doesn't bother me, Sir." Truly, it has little effect on Shoto. He's more than accustomed to the clients at the brothel having a cigarette, both while fucking him, and after.

Shoto's tail sways, and he moves from pushing his head against Taiga's hand, to nuzzling the man's hip. One hand lifts to rest on the back of Taiga's calf. For the moment at least, he seems content to just be in physical contact with Taiga. Clearly, he has no objections to getting very close to a complete stranger; further evidence of the hard-wired training he has grown up with. After a moment, "Can I help you, Sir?" Shoto practically purrs the words, and his tone conveys his intention.
 
Shoto moved closer, nuzzling into Taiga's surprisingly slender hip, his other hand gripping the mobster's calf. Taiga flips the hair out of Shoto's face, unabashed with contact with strangers himself, admiring the view - but knowing for his purposes, it was forbidden. The pup looks so content.

After that screamingly obvious come-hither voice and motion, Taiga was unmoved. "Yes you can," Taiga chuckled. He leaned down slightly, keeping the cigarette well-away from the pup. "You can decide whether you'd like to walk ahead of me, so we can go into the kitchen and get some food." He winked at him.
 
Shoto actually huffs at the rejection, his forehead crinkling slightly as his eyebrows come together. He drops his hand from Taiga's calf for the moment, placing it alongside the other, on the floor between his knees. His tail swinging a bit more abruptly. "I will follow Sir where he goes."

It's clear Shoto doesn't want to lead, and not only because he would have no idea where he's going. It's in his trained nature to never walk ahead of his clients or masters, unless explicitly ordered to. And so far, Taiga hasn't actually ordered him to do anything. Thus, Shoto falls back on his base training; follow.
 
Taiga heaved a sigh. A disappointing first sally all around; but in a way, Shoto had made a decision, and it had been against his master's wishes - even if that decision was to follow his training. Not the best, but not terrible.

Taiga hummed, and led Shoto into the kitchen, his long strides eating up ground. Inside, he asked him idly, "What do you like to eat? Are you allergic to anything?" And began clattering around the kitchen for things to make for this puppy menace.
 
Shoto seems to relax when Taiga takes the lead, happily following him through the house to the kitchen. There, Shoto takes up a spot at the end of the counter, seated with his knees folded back, calves to either side of his butt. His hands rest on the floor between his spread knees. "I will eat anything Sir gives me." Shoto pauses, then, "But, I am allergic to shellfish and red dyes." He frowns as he says this, as though trying to remember what it was. This seems to be a trained response, but taught to him in order to keep him safe, food-wise.

Shoto smiles again, tail wagging slowly. He watches Taiga move around the kitchen, sniffing at the air. He occasionally leans forward, mouth open to catch more scent, before quickly sitting upright again. He's content to sit and watch, absorbing the smells. His purple eyes follow Taiga's movements.
 
Taiga nodded, not having expected anything less slavish in the preferences category, frowning to discover the pup has serious allergies. "What are the reactions?" he asked him. "Only hives, or is anaphylaxis at issue?" Regardless, he should get the boy a work-up with an allergist and, if needed, an epipen, immediately. He knew neglecting the puppy's healthcare was the least of the ways his old owners had abused him, but still.

Taiga clattered around the kitchen, not using anything in the freezer or even opening it, since he had a bag of shrimp in there he'd have to safely remove, empty the whole freezer, and scrub down. He'd also have to get rid of his red gatorade and some red jellos, juices, candies, and condiments and such, but it was a small price to pay for his pup's safety.

He was surprised he felt that way about it, especially so fast. He wasn't generally much of an altruistic person. He glanced at the boy sitting upright on the floor, and hmphed to himself, softly.

He looked cute, sitting up like that, watching him.

He looked vulnerable.

Taiga tsked, and started putting together a rigatoni alla vodka with things from the pantry and the fridge. He clattered around the kitchen, mostly focused on cooking, humming to himself nearly under his breath. It was a carbs heavy meal, but the pasta was whole grain, he stirred lots of fresh vegetables into the dish and used a more healthy recipe for the vodka sauce, lean, healthy meats for the protein, and dessert was sliced passionfruit. Ice water to drink with it. He was a generally healthy eater - had to be, to maintain this figure.

He brought two plates of the filling, healthy dish to the island, smelling and looking delicious despite the concessions for health, and put out the water glasses, everything, then he sat down, flipping his tie over his shoulder and tucking a napkin under his chin to keep stains from hitting the designer, hand-tailored suit he was wearing.
 
Shoto tilts his head at Taiga's question, his tail stilling. He seems to be thinking, but after a moment, only blinks. "I don't remember, Sir." The discoveries of his allergies had happened when he was still quite young, and much of his childhood had become repressed memories as his training had taken over.

Shoto keeps sniffing the air as Taiga cooks, swallowing occasionally to keep from drooling. The food smells so good, but nothing comes free. When Taiga sits, placing both plates on the counter, Shoto crawls over and positions himself between the man's knees, His hands lift to rest on Taiga's calves, and his face nuzzles into the man's inner thigh. It's such a perfectly practiced action, it's obvious Shoto has had to earn everything he gets.

Shoto croons, nuzzling Taiga's thigh again. He moves his face inward, cheek rubbing along muscle, until his nose brushes right across his master's groin. Without words, Shoto rubs his nose gently against the bulge of Taiga's groin, tail waving slowly.
 
As Shoto crawled up to him, Taiga was pulling out his phone, texting his personal assistant, Jamaal, to find an allergist in the area who was competent with shifters. That was all he needed to do. The arrangements with making the appointment, pet insurance, paying the co-pay, etc., were all Jamaal's responsibilities. Taiga was an important man. He said jump, his people asked, how high?

So he was a little shocked at Shoto's initiative, to say the least. One moment he was sending a text, the next moment a deep breath rumbled out of his chest. He looked down with suddenly heated eyes at the adorable picture of those triangles of ears flat against his curls, his sweet face pressed into Taiga's bulge, rubbing it, stimulating it - Taiga swallowed. He was only a man.

It was tempting.

His cock, quickly firming, thought so too.

But his hand reached out, gently but firmly pushing Shoto away. "Shoto. You don't have to do this for food. I don't want you to exchange favors for food. You can simply eat the food."

HIs chest was heaving, voice husky, octaves deeper, but he told him, "Go eat, darling."
 
Shoto is happy at Taiga's bodily reaction, his fingers squeezing the man's calves. But when Taiga pushes him away, Shoto actually whimpers. The rejection makes him think he's done something wrong, and sets his shoulders to trembling slightly. His ears lay back, protecting them as he flattens them to his skull.

"I don't want to make you angry.. Everything must be earned, that's what everyone says." Shoto looks up at Taiga with pleading eyes, just wanting to please the man. He tries again, rubbing his cheek along Taiga's hand before nuzzling against his inner thigh once more. "Please, Sir, I just want to be good.."
 
Taiga leaned down, his voice firmer, willing away his thick erection. "You are good," he told the pup. "You are good in yourself, just by being yourself. You don't have to do anything for me to eat. Please go eat, sweet, good pup."

Again, he gently nudged him away, trying to guide him towards his warm plate of food, which at this rate, was getting cold.

This poor animal, he thought. But he remembered. He remembered doing, acting similar, doing horrible things, begging for them, fucking like it was his birthright just for the shot, into his tongue, his cock, his eye if he'd been bad. He swallowed hard, the memory bringing a rush of urges and desires for heroin.

Addiction never truly went away.

Neither did training like that.

But if Taiga could become what he had, Shoto could too.
 
Shoto whimpers again, this second rejection making him look like a struck puppy. He's shaking, on edge now, But finally moves away. Shoto back up, trembling, and sits a couple feet away. His tail is tucked down, ears laid back, and tension is clear through his slender frame. Briefly, his eyes dart up to where the second plate sits on the countertop. But he wouldn't dare touch it. Shoto has never been allowed to eat at a table like his masters.

So, he sits quietly, trembling, looking kicked despite having not been. It would take more than a couple hours to show Shoto that he could make his own choices, and with his training so deeply rooted, it would be quite the battle of patience. Shoto doesn't make a sound as he watches Taiga very closely, twitching and flinching every time the man moves. That uneasiness is borne of the rejection; Shoto has learned rejection is followed by violence, more times than not, and he's bracing for it.
 
Taiga scrambled, at a loss for how to deal with this situation. The dog clearly won't eat the food, and looks like he thinks Taiga is going to unwind his belt, or worse.

It didn't just bring up obvious bad memories for his poor pup. Taiga had been forced by Cortez, back in those days, to train the new hookers. He'd been their best earner back then, so it'd been considered his duty. He'd conditioned people then.

And he'd learned a few tricks while doing it.

Mind games had gotten this pup into it, maybe some judiciously used mind games would get him out. Taiga pointedly shoved his own dinner away, which was cool rather than warm by now, and told his puppy, "I'm not going to eat until we eat together, honey. You'll have to starve your master, and yourself, if you want to adhere to this training. That training is not applicable, dear. You have a new master now." He didn't know if this was the best route - guilting him into it - but sometimes unhealthy methods produced healthy results. He supposed. He hoped.
 
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Shoto flinches again as Taiga shoves his own food away. The sharp, fast movements set him on edge, and his ears flatten further. Starvation is no new thing to the skinny pup, but hearing that his new master will refuse to eat makes him whimper. Shoto is at a loss of what to do, and it takes him a couple minutes to come up with a solution. He's not allowed on furniture, but maybe he can make his master happy if he just grabs a piece of food?

Shoto has no idea what the concept of cutlery is. All his food has either been tossed at him, or set on the floor. So, hesitantly, Shoto reaches up with shaking hands and pulls the plate designated for him off the counter. He flinches when Taiga moves again, then scoots away from the man. Still trembling, tail tucked tightly around his waist, Shoto takes a bite of pasta directly from the plate. It's clear he's scared, trying to figure out what to do to not get in any more trouble. Clearly, it would take many small steps to convince Shoto that he's safe to not follow his obviously very strict training.
 
Taiga smiled warmly. "I'm proud of you, Shoto. This is a first step on a long road, whether you know it or not." He popped one bite of the cool rigatoni in his mouth, chewed it, savored it, and washed it down with some water. He didn't mind the lack of cutlery. He'd been made to eat in enough dog bowls, and he wasn't even part-dog. He doubted anyone had even put a fork in front of this man - unless they wanted nantaimori or something, shit.

"One bite for one bite," he said. "I'm proud of you. You're a good boy. Keep eating, sweetheart." He'd taken it off the counter, but Rome wasn't built in a day, and any trainer of animal or man would tell you it was a mistake to teach everything at once. You got a few behaviors reliable, then you built on them. People and animals needed a solid foundation - and Shoto was both.

Taiga waited for what he'd do.
 
Hearing Taiga's voice soften helps Shoto relax, but he still feels like he's done something wrong. It feels wrong for him to be eating without doing something to earn it. But he eats, all the while watching Taiga closely. When he's finished, Shoto eases the plate back onto the counter, wiping his mouth with his hands, then licks his hands clean.

But now that Shoto is finished, he's ill-at-ease. He's still tense, and creeps up to Taiga like he's expecting to be punished. The pup places himself between the man's feet again, but this time just rests his cheek against the man's thigh. Shoto whimpers, hands clasping in his lap. "I'm sorry, Sir.. Please let me serve you, I'll be good, I promise.." Shoto's purple eyes are wide, looking up at Taiga. He wants to do as he's trained, to please his new master, so he doesn't have to worry about backlash or punishment.
 
They eat like that, Taiga carefully pacing himself so Shoto gets his full meal in. Shame about the passionfruit, it was delicious, but he wouldn't push the pup too hard on the first day.

Shoto looked miserable, but then these habits were practically a disease, and monstrously hard to break.

When they were both finished, Taiga tucking into the last few bites he'd saved and rationed to make absolutely sure Shoto ate it all, he leaned down to his little puppy, one black eyebrow dramatically cocked, like a movie actor.

"You know how you can serve me, Shoto?" he asked him, voice low and seductive and warm. An impish grin crossed his face, and he picked up the water from the table, the glass of ice water Shoto hadn't dared grab. "Drink this until you're no longer thirsty, and you feel comfortable."

He held the glass out to him, twiddling it slightly to make the water slosh invitingly, that same impudent grin still on his face.
 
Shoto actually perks up, hearing the change in Taiga's voice. He leans forward, purple eyes watching, but when Taiga tells him simply to drink the water, Shoto is immediately on edge again. His ears lay sideways, but he sits a little straighter. Rather than touch the glass, Shoto opens his mouth near it, like he's waiting for Taiga to pour the water in, thus controlling his water intake.

When it doesn't immediately happen, Shoto shifts uncomfortably, making that same miserable face again. He doesn't understand what to do, and while following orders is what he does best, the last time someone had given him things without asking for anything in return, he'd been brutally beaten for not then turning and presenting himself to them.
 
Taiga rolls his eyes, impatient, and reaches for Shoto's hand, trying to wrap his long, pianist's fingers around them, and move them to the cup.

"Come on now, good boy," he leaned down and whispered in his ear. "This is just our first try, but we're gonna keep trying, okay?"

He attempted to draw Shoto's hand to the glass, to help him start to hold it.
 
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