Diary Of A Puppy Ch 01

Dear Diary,

Woof! It's me, Freckles! Today started off like any other day here at the farm. I woke up in the puppy pile, all us boy puppies snuggled together for warmth in the barn.

I have fluffy ears--golden, like my tail. My tail's long and soft, always wagging too much, too fast, especially when I'm nervous. It's not something I try to do. It just happens.

And today? It was wagging. It's hard not to feel happy waking up surrounded by your friends!

Around me, the other puppies were beginning to stir as well. Cinnamon was the first to fully wake, giving a big yawn that ended in a playful yip. He bounded over to wrestle with Biscuit. The two rolled around, yipping and play-growling.

Next up was Peanut, who always took a while to get going in the mornings. He blinked sleepily and gave a long stretch. Sammy nuzzled him affectionately.

The Farm is the best place in the world! The only thing better would be to be chosen by an Elite. Puppies who get chosen go live in big houses with nice people and get all the treats they could ever want!

We're all hoping to be picked one day. That's why they keep us naked and on all-fours, so we can behave like real pets for the Elites. And speaking words was strictly forbidden--only barking for us! But I don't mind. That's just how things are supposed to be!

Us Puppies have floppy ears and tails just like dogs, but the rest of us look human. I hear the Farmer say the word "hybrid" a lot. All I know is that I'm a Puppy and Puppies are meant to serve Elites! Simple as that.

Being raised with other Puppies is so much fun. We never have to worry about anything except playing and dreaming of our future homes. We're kept separate from the girl Puppies, so I've never seen them before, but I bet they have just as much fun as us.

I felt a cold nose snuffling curiously at my rump. Nutmeg was giving me a thorough morning sniff-over, I let out a soft whimper as I felt Nutmeg's warm tongue lap over my sensitive privates. He was one of the bigger pups and I knew better than to protest his morning inspection. His tongue tickled as it cleaned between my legs.

The Farmer always said it was important for us to keep each other clean, so we spent a lot of time licking each other's bodies. Sometimes the Farmer would watch us grooming and encourage us with happy words.

Nutmeg's snuffling became more insistent as he pushed his nose deeper between my legs. I whimpered and wagged my tail, letting him know I was a good Puppy and wouldn't resist. His tongue licked wetly across my balls, grooming them with long, careful strokes.

Around me, other Puppies were doing the same. Sammy had climbed on top of Cinnamon and was sitting on his face, whining happily as Cinnamon's tongue worked furiously at his privates. I could see Sammy's own tongue lolling out of his mouth in ecstasy.

Peanut and Biscuit lay side by side, sucking on each others' boy parts. They both had their eyes squeezed shut, and every now and then they would stop to give soft barks of delight before going right back to licking.

I felt Nutmeg's tongue slide up to the tip of my privates, where it lingered for a moment before moving back to my balls. Warmth spread through me, making me shiver with pleasure.

The Farmer would be so proud of us for keeping each other so clean.

The only thing the Farmer didn't like was when we tried to mount each other. If he caught any of us doing that, he'd put a stop to it right quick, and whichever poor Pup it was would get pulled over the Farmer's knee and spanked.

Sammy, though, always seemed to get in trouble. Many times we'd all listen to his whimpers and cries as the Farmer slapped his bottom again and again. Sammy loved humping so much, but he never learned how to stop himself before getting caught!

I flinched in surprise as Nutmeg swiped his tongue all the way up my backside, before burying his face right against my bottom. It felt strange--good, but strange. Nutmeg had always been obsessed with grooming me there, and I knew he wouldn't stop until I was perfectly clean.

He spread my cheeks with his nose and licked insistently at the tight pucker of my hole. His tongue flicked over it again and again, sending new shivers through me. My cock throbbed between my legs as he worked.

Nutmeg's tongue pushed harder now, wet and insistent as it circled hungrily around my hole.

I let out a loud, helpless whimper as Nutmeg's tongue pushed its way inside me. It filled my hole, hot and wet, licking furiously at the sensitive place inside.

It was too much--I couldn't hold back! With a shudder, I came hard on the ground beneath me. Warm liquid spurted from between my legs again and again as Nutmeg's tongue thrust in deep and fast.

Nutmeg didn't stop even as I shook with the aftershocks of my orgasm. He stayed right there, his big muzzle pressed tight against my bottom, making sure every inch of me was perfectly clean.

I let out a soft yip and twisted around to return the favor, pushing my nose between Nutmeg's legs. He was so big that I could crawl right underneath him, with his warm belly resting on my back as I licked at his dripping penis.

He gave a pleased bark, and I felt him shiver above me. I knew how much he liked this, so I kept licking and sucking on him like a good Puppy should. His tip was wet and salty in my mouth, and I could feel my own shaft twitching to life again as I worked.

Nutmeg started humping against my face, his hips thrusting forward as he pushed himself deeper into my mouth. His balls slapped against my chin while he panted heavily and whined with pleasure.

Around us, the other Puppies were still busy grooming each other. Biscuit had pushed Peanut onto his back and sat on his chest while he licked his friend's privates. Peanut squirmed beneath him, giving little yips of delight as his paws twitched in the air.

Sammy let out a high-pitched howl as Cinnamon's tongue flicked over his swollen bits again and again. He was grinding desperately against Cinnamon's face--just like Nutmeg was doing to mine!

Nutmeg's breath came faster now, hot against my fur as he pumped harder into my mouth. His whole body trembled above me, and I knew he wasn't going to last much longer.

Suddenly, Nutmeg gave one last hard thrust and held it, whining loudly as warm liquid spurted from him and filled my mouth. It dribbled down my chin, dripping onto the dirt below us.

Nutmeg collapsed on top of me, panting with satisfaction. I wriggled my way out from under him, licking the mess off my nose as he rolled to his side with a happy groan. We lay there for a moment, catching our breath.

My ears perked up when I heard footsteps. The Handlers were here!

The door to our pen opened, and the Handlers walked in--two of them, each with their boots polished and gloves already on.

One clapped his hands. "Up, boys. Time to get ready."

My heart was fluttering in my chest, but I kept my face calm. No panting. No shaking. Be good. Be proud.

This might be my day.

We were taken to Grooming first. The room was big and clean, with bright lights that made our fur shine. Metal grates lined the floor, and hoses hung from the walls like long, lazy snakes.

They lined us up on the cool tile floor, one after another, and my tail wagged in anticipation. Grooming was important. It meant we were being prepared for something special, and that always made me excited.

"Line up! Present!" The Handlers had us all kneel down, heads low and bottoms high, just the way they liked.

One of them went down the line with a big bottle of lube, squeezing some onto each of our holes. I felt a thick dollop plop onto me. It was cold and slick, and I shivered as it trickled down my bottom.

"Hold still now," said the other Handler. He carried a long hose with a rubber tip that glistened wetly under the bright lights. I watched as he went to Sammy first, spreading his cheeks with one hand while guiding the hose to his hole with the other.

Sammy gave a loud yelp when it pushed inside him. The Handler slid it deep, then turned a valve on the wall. Sammy's eyes grew wide as warm liquid rushed into him, filling him up fast.

Then it was my turn. I knew what was coming next, but I couldn't help whimpering nervously as the Handler came closer with the hose. The Handler knelt beside me and rubbed my back soothingly before pressing the hose against my lubed-up pucker. I bit my lip and wagged my tail for him like a good Puppy should.

The hose pushed inside me--further than Nutmeg's tongue ever had--and I let out a helpless whine when he turned the valve. Warm water shot into me so fast that it felt like an explosion in my belly.

I squirmed on all-fours as more and more poured into me, making my stomach swell up round and tight beneath me. My tail wagged furiously while I tried not to wriggle too much under their hands.

"Good boy," said the Handler softly as he twisted shut the valve at last. He pulled out the hose with a quick motion that sent shudders through me. "Hold it."

I could feel the pressure build inside me, my belly growing tight, and I bit the inside of my cheek. Don't whimper. Don't shift. Don't squirm. Good boys stay still.

The heat pooled low, and for a second, I imagined what it might be like for my Master to see me like this--submissive, obedient, prepared. My skin went warm all over.

Around me, the other Puppies were starting to shake and whimper from how full they were--especially Sammy.

The Handlers made us hold it until we couldn't take any more. Then they let us squat over the grate on the ground and release all at once. Liquid gushed from each of us in powerful streams while we barked and panted our relief into open air.

By the time we were done, our bellies were flat again; empty again for another round. And there was another round...and then another... Finally, the water that flowed from us was clean and clear.

"Alright, boys! Up and forward!"

We were led there on shaky legs, but even though we were tired (and still dripping), none of us complained because this is the daily life of a Puppy!

We're not allowed to get too excited when the Elites come. The Farmer says it ruins the moment. That Elites want us eager but controlled. So we're milked beforehand.

Each Puppy was brought forward one at a time and made to kneel on a padded mat with legs spread wide. The handlers didn't speak. They just moved in sync--one holding the Puppy in place, the other reaching between the Puppy's legs.

When it was my turn, I tried not to think too hard. Just let it happen. The Handler was efficient. Firm. My body jerked on instinct and the release came quick and sharp, emptying me.

After that was the washroom. Showers hung from the ceiling, and they blasted us with hot water until we were soaked to the skin. Then came shampoo--thick, soapy stuff that got worked into every inch of our bodies. They lathered us from head to toe, rubbing it into our fur until it stood up in bubbly tufts.

My tail wagged as I felt their hands scrub over my skin, spreading suds over every part of me. The soap smelled sharp and clean, and I knew it would make my fur extra fluffy for the big day ahead.

Once we were covered in foam, they rinsed us off with more hot water. It washed away the soap and left our skin tingling. I shook the water out of my ears and blinked it out of my eyes.

The Handlers clipped our nails next, trimming them short and neat. They used scissors on our fur, giving each of us a quick cut so we looked tidy and presentable. Sammy's hair was so long that he got an extra trim!

Then came the serum. They squeezed some onto their fingers and rubbed it onto our nipples and holes. It tingled where they spread it, making both places feel puffy and sensitive.

I squirmed when they pinched my nipples to test how tender they were. The serum worked fast--I could feel myself getting hard already!

They slipped a finger inside me too, probing deep while I whimpered helplessly at how good it felt.

The Handlers watched us closely as they did this, waiting for each Puppy to get erect before putting a tight ring around our bases.

We lined up again when they were done, hard shafts jutting out proudly from each of us. The daily ritual was complete, and we were ready for final inspection!

The Farmer came in just then, his boots clacking on the tile floor as he walked down the line with slow, careful steps.

"Well now," he said with a wide smile. "Don't you all look about ready!"

I held still as he examined me, keeping my tail low like a good boy should. It was hard not to wag it when he said things like that.

Sammy could barely contain himself; his excitement was written all over his face as the Farmer checked him over. He trembled with joy at every word of praise.

"Remember your commands now, Pups," said the Farmer.

He clapped his hands together, and we all snapped to attention, ears perked and eyes wide.

When he said "Present," we dropped to our knees with practiced grace, pressing our chests down low while raising our butts high in the air. I felt my hole spread open for him as I arched my back.

He walked past us again, nodding with satisfaction at our obedience. Each step of his boots echoed loudly in the silent room. I could feel my heart beating fast with excitement. Being chosen would be a dream come true!

When he reached me, he paused. His boot tapped the tile next to my knee.

"Quiet tail, Freckles," he said. "You want to look well-mannered when they arrive."

I stilled, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Sit Pretty!" We sprang up, kneeling with our legs apart. My hands rested on my thighs, my eyes looking down like I'd been taught.

"Down!" We lay on our backs, pulling our legs back to show off our holes. My shaft throbbed against my belly as I spread myself open.

"Elites are coming soon," he said at last. "Be ready for them." With that, he turned and left us quivering with anticipation.

The only sound was our breathing--quick and shallow--as we stayed in position on the floor. We didn't dare move until the Handlers gave us permission to get up and into our pen, then we padded inside on all-fours, tails wagging as we jostled each other for space.

Biscuit was so excited he couldn't stop barking! Peanut joined in too, both of them yipping happily while we waited for the Elites to arrive.

We all wanted to be picked so badly! We all train for it. Dream of it. It's the only future we're allowed to want. A collar. A home. A Master. It's the only day that matters for a Puppy like me. We're not born to be people--we're bred and trained to serve the people who matter. The Elites.

I wondered what my Master would be like--if they'd be kind and gentle or strict and demanding. Either way, I'd love them forever.

***

We didn't have to wait long.

The big doors swung open, and the Elites swept in like a storm. The pen exploded with sensation--so much noise and color and smell I didn't know where to look, what to think.

High heels clicked sharply against the polished floor, laughter echoed off the high rafters. Bright scarves and glittering jewelry caught the light, and perfume--heady, expensive, overwhelming--poured into the space around us. It was dizzying.

They gathered at the fence, chatting loudly as they peered in at our naked bodies like we were exotic animals on display. I felt my cheeks flush hot even as my heart pounded with excitement. There were so many of them--some dark-haired, some fair, all wrapped in rich fabrics and polished shoes.

Some of the bolder Pups started showing off, rolling balls, prancing, trying to catch the attention of our potential owners. Not me. I stayed seated just as I'd been taught--tail curled neatly to one side, ears alert, body relaxed but poised.

That's when I saw him. And my world narrowed.

Steel-gray hair. Lined face--not with weakness, but with authority. He wasn't young, but he didn't need youth. He wore power like a second skin--quiet, absolute. A pair of black-rimmed glasses perched perfectly on his angular nose, rendering his expression unreadable.

Black pants. White button-down dress-shirt. Black gloves. Black glasses. Simple. Severe. Intentional.

He didn't speak when the Farmer greeted him--just nodded. That was all it took. No one questioned who was in charge.

As the man walked along the fence, the Farmer began pointing out each of us, offering names, traits, histories. I could barely hear him. My ears were ringing. I focused on holding posture, keeping my breath steady--but my tail twitched, betraying the storm inside me.

Then he passed me.

He didn't stop. Didn't speak. Didn't look at me.

A whine bubbled in my chest. I held it in.

The Farmer turned and gestured broadly to the pen. "I reckon you'll find something to your liking here."

And that's when the shift happened. As if sensing my gaze, the gray-haired man turned and looked directly at me.

Our eyes locked.

His stare--sharp and unrelenting--stripped me bare. All my training, my practiced obedience vanished beneath it. His gaze didn't just see me. It knew me.

Then, slowly, his stern mouth curled into the faintest smile. He inclined his head--barely a nod--and that was all it took. Something clicked inside me. Like a key turning. Like I had always been his. And today was simply the moment we remembered.

The Farmer clapped his hands once, sharp and cheerful. "All right, then. Time to let y'all get a closer look."

He handed out gloves like party favors, snapping each pair into expectant hands. Bottles of lube followed, along with an assortment of toys--some sleek and polished, others ridged or cruel-looking.

The gate creaked open and they stepped inside.

We lifted our chins, squared our shoulders, tails curling up or swaying with invitation. We knew how to be good. We'd been trained to be good.

The first Elite--a soft-faced woman in purple silk and gloves that gleamed like oil--drifted toward Sammy. She walked behind him, checking his bottom like she was choosing fruit at the market. Then she raised a hand and brought it down on his rump with a smack hard enough to make him squeak.

"Hmm," she said, smiling and flexing her hand. "This one."

Sammy was breathing heavily as the Farmer stepped in, clicked a leash to Sammy's collar, and led him out of the lineup. Toward the Playpen.

Jealousy pricked at me, sharp and sudden. I swallowed it. Focused.

The Elites were fanning out now, inspecting us one by one.

A man in a burgundy coat tugged Peanut's balls and made a pleased sound when he whimpered prettily. Biscuit's bottom was being worked open by a tall Elite with rings on every finger, his hole stretched with slow, methodical care while the man observed his breathing, his squirming, the way his body moved with the toy inside.

Everywhere I looked, hands were on us--palming asses, probing holes, teasing nipples, twisting balls. Some Elites were clinical, their touches brisk and precise. Others dragged their hands across trembling skin like they were painting a canvas, savoring every shiver, every gasp. The air thickened with scent--lube, sweat, rising heat.

I held still, perfectly posed, eyes forward as my nipples were tugged on by an Elite wearing red high-heels--but every inch of me ached to glance to my left. To see if he was watching.

The man in black.

The one who'd looked at me.

I bit the inside of my cheek. I couldn't risk looking away and seeming distracted. But it took everything I had not to.

He hadn't moved from where he stood near the gate. He was just...watching. Observing. Not touching anyone. Not yet.

I longed for his hand.

Not to stroke me. Not to finish me.

Just to touch.

I imagined it--black gloves against my skin. Cool, deliberate. Evaluating. Would he tug my tail to test my reaction? Slide fingers inside me, slow and searching? Would he speak? Or would silence be enough?