So, it was the end of the day, and I was making my way back to my locker to get my shit, when this snotty nosed, little git, just walks right up to me, and tells me about all the rehearsals I'd missed and how I needed to practise for my role.

Like I didn't know that, seeing as I'd missed them on purpose and now he was fronting up to me, in front of all the other third years. What was that about?

Of course I had to do something about it dead quick. Couldn't risk giving him a slap, due to all the teachers being about, but that didn't mean I couldn't put him in his place, with words, did it?

"Do one, pipsqueak!"

Okay, so it wasn't brilliant but it got a couple of titters from around the lockers, so there was that. Kid's expression didn't change though. He just kept on staring at me, smiling, repeating the thing what he'd said in the first place like the cutest robot you've ever seen.

"Miss Hooper told me to help you practise."

Crap! Why did it have to be her? I'd been avoiding the Head of Drama for nearly three weeks now, since I'd somehow ended up being volunteered for a role in some end of term play, I'd never heard off. And, just because I'd spent the most time in detention in my year. That I was proud off. Great way to make a mark in a new school, but there was no way I was doing some poncy play, not even if I got to play a vicious dog, and scare the crap out of everyone. Anyway, I had things to do. Wanking mostly. But that's still things, ain't it?

Anyway, this Miss Hooper wouldn't take no for an answer, and kept stuffing notes into my locker, telling me about the play, and when the rehearsals were, and I kept ignoring them, and avoiding her, just to be on the safe side. No doubt that's why she'd sent this little suck-up after me.

I mean, just one look at the kid and you knew he was some sort of teacher's pet, in his neat smartly pressed uniform, with it's bright white ironed shirt buttoned all the way up. School tie all knotted right, not too small and not massive. He even had his blazer on. That was buttoned up too – both buttons – with club badges on the lapel. But do you know what most annoying about him? He was nearly my height, and I'm two years older than him. That really pissed me off.

"Just fuck off kid. I've got to get home, and I ain't doing no prancing about on no stage."

"But Miss Hooper says…"

I cut him off before he could make me look like any more of a twat, than still being the "new kid" after six months, was making me.

"Ain't happening. If I'm not back then my 'rents will think I've got another detention and I'll be in more shit than you can imagine."

"Oh!" he said, not knowing everything I'd just said was a load of bollocks.

Okay, so I was expected to go straight home, but seeing as there was never any one there to check if I did, it never mattered if I got a detention. Or ten. No one would have known, but then, I wouldn't have the house to myself neither, to do stuff, what I don't want Mum, Alan and Kane to know about.

Mum and her husband would be working, and my new step-brother would be nerding it up somewhere, doing whatever it is sixth form geeks like him do for a part time job. Shit, and to think I'd thought having a black brother would have been so cool. Only he wasn't. Not at all.

So, that wasn't the reason I wanted to get home, which was just that I was going crazy for a wank.

Even then, standing in the school corridor, after double maths with the most boring teacher in the whole fucking world, my prick was rock hard. I mean, totally rock hard. Like steel. Harder. Thankfully the swim trunks I had on under my trousers, were doing what they was meant to do, and keeping it flat against my abdomen, and not tenting out the front of my trousers. I'd learned that mistake and wasn't never going to wear boxers no more. Not now things had got bigger down there.

Hey, I was a typical, thirteen year old boy. Nothing but hormones on legs, with a ready made handle permanently attached. Anything, and everything, or even nothing, got my prick all worked up, and if I didn't take it in hand from time to time and give it a good wank, to drain out all the sticky stuff – okay, thin, sticky stuff – then I'd have gone mental. Trust me. I would. Honest.

So, yeah, my prick was something I could be proud off, especially as it was about the only thing I had to show for puberty. I was still as short as I'd been in Juniors, with a squeaky voice that went up and down randomly like a broken lift. No sign of an Adam's apple, to ruin the soft lines of my neck, neither was there any dark shadow on my upper lip, no matter how much I wanted there to be. Loads of the other third years had that. Even some of the seconds, and they was taller than me too. I had pubes though. A little bush, that may have been only around an inch [2.5cm] wide, and half that tall, but it was there, and no one expected it to be. Didn't expect me to have a proper prick neither, just some little kid's wiggly worm, but I had a proper one. Three inches [7.5cm] long on the rare occasion it was soft, and half that again when it was standing up. Which, like I said, was most of the time, unless I could get my hand wrapped around it and relieve the pressure from my still small, but low slung balls.

"It's all been arranged." the kid piped up, in his overly polite, voice that made him sound like he was doing announcements on the BBC. "Your brother…"

"Step brother!" I corrected, like I always did, rather pointlessly given we obviously didn't look nothing like each other, whilst slipping my hand into the pocket of my baggy trousers, just in case my prick was making a show of itself. After all the kid was looking at me in a weird way for some reason.

"Yes, your step-brother will pick you up when you are ready."

Fuck him, was what I wanted to say, but Kane for all his nerdy ways, was taller than me. Way taller. Almost as tall as Alan, his Dad, and he's built like a brick shit-house. Or is that a shit brick-house? Either way, Alan's massive so there's no way I was going to mess with him. Kane though. Well, that's open season, ain't it?

Superglue in his trainers. That was a good one even if it didn't really work. Just ruined Kane's socks, which wound Mum up, and got me in the shit.

Itching powder rubbed into Kane's boxers was better. Great fun watching him scratching his bum all through dinner. Or, "Accidentality" – if you know what I mean? – putting a red hankie in with his PE kit, so he ended up having to play in sissy pink. That was hysterical. Kane hadn't thought so, but then that's his fault for still doing games at school when you don't have to, what with him being sixth form and everything.

There was loads more stuff I did to him, and there was sod all he could do about it, because Alan had told him to be nice to me, because I was his "little brother" now, so he'd had to put with it. Brilliant or what?

Signing me up for Miss Hooper's play, must have been his way of getting back at me. Well, if he thinks that's going to bother me, he can fuck right off. I'll show him. He ain't never going to get the best of me. Not now. Not never. I was in charge. Not him. Not this poncey little kid neither.

"Right then," I stared at him, hands on my hips so I'd look as tough as I could with bright blond hair – Mum won't let me dye it black – and loads of freckles that just won't fuck off.

Yeah, I look cute. Heard that all my life, and I hate it. No teenage boy wants to be cute. At least not cute like they mean it. Girls think Kane is "Cute" but not in the same way they think I am. Him they want to shag, me they want to pet like I'm a sodding dog, or Teddy Bear.

Hell, if any one looked cute in that little puppy dog way, it was this kid, Miss Hooper had sent to get me.

No he did. He really did. A right Mummy's boy, had to be, if he lets himself be dressed up like that. In shorts too. Long shorts, down to the knees, almost, but shorts all the same. Wouldn't catch me wearing nothing like that. Get the shit kicked out of me, if I did, I bet. He should have been at one of them dead expensive fancy prep schools, where the big boys bum the little boys every day and night, when they aren't whacking their arses black and blue. I mean, what is it about posh people and arses?

This kid didn't care though. Probably wasn't old enough to know no better. Just doing what he was told like good little boys do. Which worked for me. As that meant he'd do what I told him to, too. I just had to get to know him first.

"What's your name kid?"

Suddenly his arm was up, and his skinny little hand was shooting out of the end of his blazer, as he introduced himself as if we was two old geezers meeting up in some Old Boy's club, not two kids in a council comprehensive. Course I didn't shake it, but gave it a cool sideways slap, and asked what he had to do with all this.

Just like I'd thought, he was helping out in the Drama department, no doubt righteously sucking up to Miss Hooper, which is a sure-fire way to get his head flushed, if you asked me, which would be a shame as he seemed like a nice kid and he had nice hair done in the old fashioned short back and sides thing he had going on, and which, weirdly suited him. Well, more than a bog-wash would.

"Miss Hooper said I should help you. I'm her assistant."

He explained, meaning dog's body, but that was all I needed to be out of there. If Miss Hooper couldn't be arsed with the play then why should I? Stands to reason don't it? So I gave this Jamie kid a little sarcastic wave, and told him,"Later."

"Wait!" he said, "If you don't then you are going to be in real trouble you know?"

Yeah, I knew but then what's another detention. Or even a series of detentions? Didn't really mean nothing to me other than knocking a massive hole in my wanking time which, to be fair, prick wasn't going to like.

"Okay then," I was about to give him an ultimatum, you know, something about, if he don't tell on me then I won't tell on him. That sort of thing. Only, he went and done what I'd been going to do, and scarpered.

"Little bastard!" I said to myself, making heads turn and stare at me, followed by a few of the usual shoves from some of the zit-faced boy-gorillas, and a telling off, from some woman, who could have been a new trainee teacher, or in the sixth form, I couldn't really tell.

Obviously I needed an out, so I yelled, "Hey wait up, kid!" and ran after him, ducking and diving around all those, towering over us, barely able to keep sight as the tails of Jamie's blazer flapped around his cute little arse.

Yeah, I noticed his arse. What about it? Could hardly miss it in them shorts. Tight wasn't the word. Would have been indecent if he'd been older, and had something to pack into the front, but he was eleven, so there was nothing there. Loads of arse though, cos he wasn't fat anywhere else. Just in his bum. Easy to follow though.

Kid moved like a whippet. Clearly he was more sporty than I'd thought. More so than I was, as I just couldn't catch him, until he came to a stop right outside the last place I wanted to be. The Drama Room.

Thankfully Miss. Hooper wasn't inside, but as the door was unlocked she couldn't have been far away, which is where I wanted to be, so I grabbed the box Jamie was going to pick up and was once more following his arse back the way we'd come, and then further out the doors into the yard.

"My house is behind the school," the kid explained, even though I hadn't asked. "I live with my Mummy, Daddy and my baby brothers, but Mummy and Daddy will be working and there's someone looking after the other kids, so we'll have peace and quiet to do your rehearsal."

"Whatever?" I shrugged, embarrassed for him and the way he sounded like one of them old fashioned kid's movies, wondering how he didn't get beat up every day, talking like that at a comprehensive. Not to mention the way he looked. Weird or what? Still, if his family had a nanny, then they had to be rich didn't they? Certainly would have explained him, and them houses backing on to the playing fields were loads larger than the one what me, Mum, Alan and Kane are stuck in. Made it a shame I never got my rucksack out of my locker, as I bet Jamie's posh family had some great stuff they wouldn't even miss. After all, it's not steeling, if they don't use it, and I could. That's just recycling, ain't it. Least that's what I tell my step-brother, when I 'borrows' his stuff, to keep.

Jamie's house turned out to be well disappointing though. Sure it was big, and it had loads of land around it but it weren't nothing like the Stately Home I'd been imagining while I'd been lugging that box around the edges of two football pitches, and one chewed up mud-bath where we froze our balls off, trying not to get splattered, by the hairy dim-witted giants who actually like Rugby.

There was a gate, in the fence by where the halfway line might have once been, which led to a little track, that went on for ages before opening up into what turned out to be the Boother house. Or rather farm.

"This all yours?" I asked, trying not to sound as puffed out as I was, from having climbed up the steep stone steps towards the back door. From there, with the box resting on a railing, all I could see was field after field.

"Was, but we let tenants do the farming now. Just the barn and a couple of sheds are ours, for the dogs." Pulling a key attached to a long bit of twirled cord – you know, like on a telephone – he unlocked the door, opening it onto what sounded like World War Three going on inside.

"That's just my brothers." he said, raising his voice over the battle coming from somewhere deep inside the house. Loads of shouting, yelling, screaming, thumping and general running about, of the sort my Mum would never have put up with but which must have been normal for the Boother family.

"Let's go into the playroom so my siblings don't bother us."

There was a door, every bit as heavy and thick as the back door, just a little way along the corridor, which Jamie opened with another key, or maybe the same key. I don't know. What I do know is he held it open while I went through and then closed it again, with a slam behind us both, which both made me jump and instantly killed all the noise from the house.

There wasn't much in there, especially for a play room, but then by the sounds of it, they played all over the house, which would be why this looked like a store room. Not much furniture. A stool. A table. A chair. All wooden. All big. All old. Floor was wood too. Boards. Floorboards. Not fancy tiles or nothing, apart from in one corner where there was some sort of mat, obviously put down for the family dog only there wasn't no dog just some toys and bowls and stuff.

Other random stuff hung from hooks all over the room. Bits of leather. Some chain. Off cuts of wood. Plumbing stuff. You know the usual. No windows which was odd, but a big old, door on the far side.

"That only goes into the dog pen outside." Jamie told me, so no early dart for me as soon as his back was turned.

"Here put the box on the table and we will get you started."

I was more than pleased to do that, cos that box was loads heavier than it looked, and wide too. Gave my arms a good stretch to get round it, and the front had been rubbing on my front, all the way up the steps, right on my prick, so it's a good job there were no adults about to see me shove a hand down there to give it a bit of a jiggle while Jamie was doing much the same thing, only inside the box.

He took his blazer off first, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, and I mean rolled them, not just shoving the cuffs up, like I would have. His shirt was still tucked in too. Into them tight shorts, with the well rounded bum, what I was trying not to stare at, while he was talking to me.

"The first thing we need to do is make sure your costume fits, and then I will run you through your part. Which part is it, you are playing again, Shawn?"

How could he not know that, if he was assistant director? I was the dog. The "Big Scary Dog" as it said in them notes I'd got. Not my choice, obviously, but at least I'd get a full on costume to hide behind, and a mask so no one would know it was me. Both of which I'd been promised so I could always say it wasn't me. Plus I'd get to scare the crap out of everyone. At least that's what I intended to do, no matter what it said in the script, I hadn't read. Mainly on account of never being sent one.

"Right, the dog." Jamie went back to rummaging about in the box, obviously looking for something, "In that case you'll need one of these."

It was a nappy. An entire package of nappies and there was no fucking way I was going to wear one of them. I was thirteen, not three, and I let Jamie know that.

"They're not nappies," he protested, like that made any difference, "They're pullup pants, and they're in your size, see."

They were. He showed me the label, but seeing as my waist size was for the ten to eleven year old range, that hardly made me feel any better about it.

"If you don't want to wear the pullups, I could get a real nappy from my brothers. They'd fit you?"

"Why the fucking hell would I wear a fucking nappy? I'm not a bloody baby!" I shouted at him, knocking the package from his hands, totally like the toddler I claimed I wasn't which made me blush, even though I'd done nothing wrong.

Of course, being the wimp he clearly was, Jamie backed down instantly, going on about how I wouldn't be wearing it because it was a nappy, but so as to help the fit of the costume, or some such bollocks. Then he fucked up his argument by saying how I'd be in the costume for ages, and if I wanted to have, what he called a "Wee-wee!" then I wouldn't have to get out of it every five minutes.

I mean, like had he seen the state of the comprehensive boy's bogs? Bet he hadn't cos like any one who wasn't a total nutter, he'd have never been in there. Mainly for fear of getting cancer from all the smoking, or getting bog washed. Not that I'd ever seen that happen, but everyone said it did, and I wasn't about to take the risk. No, fucking way. I, like all the other boys, pissed behind the sports hall, or just held it in all day instead. Don't know what the girls did, and don't care. Point was, I was used to holding my piss all day, so didn't need no nappy. Right?

"Just give me the costume, and I'll put that on." I told Jamie and just like I knew he would he said no more about making me like a baby, although he did have something to say about what I was wearing telling me I'd have to take off my well run in trainers, trousers and that old sweatshirt of Kane's what I was wearing, seeing as I'd "lost" mine, as they was all too baggy to go under the costume.

"No problem." I told him, because it wasn't. Didn't bother me to strip off in front of a little kid. I may have been officially classed as lazy by the games teacher, but I was in good shape, with a body to be proud off even if I wasn't as tall as I would have liked. Still you can't have everything can you? The rest was good, just not quite five foot [1.5m] tall yet.

I made a show of it. Pulling the loose sweatshirt up slowly to tease him with my solid belly, tossing it over to the side, where Jamie ran to pick it up, and put it in the box. By the time he'd done that, my trousers were down and he got a full look at my toned, young stomach, with it's little innie belly button, and pin sized nipples. My legs were a little pale, but showed nice muscles, beneath the almost creamy skin, which seemed to shine a little in the light cast from the bank of four fluorescents over my head.

In case you hadn't guess I'm not shy. At least within reason. I loved going about in my undies when I was a little kid, if not less. That was before Mum met Alan and Kane came to live with us. Seemed weird being naked in front of him. Didn't stop me flashing him my white arse when he was being all stuck-up though, just to let him know what I thought of him. Even teased him his prick wasn't as big as mine. Not that I've seen his, as Kane's really shy, but it must be, or else he'd have shown me, wouldn't he?

Anyway, like I said, being in undies at home, wasn't weird, nor was it in school changing rooms, even though everyone's trying to cover themselves up, but it was being the only one undressed, when the only other person was done up so prim and proper like Jamie was. He was staring too, and you don't do that in the third year changing room unless you want to be called a poofta. Mind you, I'd have been called that anyway, seeing as I was wearing swimming trunks not boxers even though, they covered more than boxers did, and were more comfortable. More clingy though, and showing a bulge, which boxers don't. Neither do they cling to your bum, showing off all the roundness of it, but shit, they were what they were, and nowhere near as weird as the costume turned out to be.

Black, without any of the fur I'd been expecting. A bit shiny, and stretchy, which was just as well as when I held it up, it wasn't nowhere near half my height and yet it was going to be covering me from the tips of my toes, all the way up to the neck.

"You sure this is the right one, kid!" I asked, but he was.

"Just step into it."

He was getting bossy so I snapped back that I knew that, although I didn't, as I hadn't found the opening at that point, which was at the back, not the front as I'd expected.

There were several bands of what felt like tight elastic sown into the costume around the ankles which weren't easy to get my socks past, and not much easier once I'd taken them off, and was stuffing my bare toes in there.

Pulling the costume up wasn't much easier. It was that tight. Clinging everywhere. Getting caught on my knees, and having to be stretched around my thighs, hips and arse, before it could get to my waist. Which led to another problem. What my mum would have called, VPL – visible panty-lines.

"We can see your…erm… underpants."

Wasn't a surprise the costume was so tight, I'd have been less surprised if Jamie had said he could see my bones, and said as much,laughing.

Being a little kid, he didn't get the "bone" joke, just went on about how if I'd worn the pull-ups they'd have smoothed out the lines, and wouldn't show up around the sides of my arse.

As he spoke his fingers traced them lines he was talking about, waking my prick up, and getting it all stretched out across my hip, which he must have noticed, because it was that obvious. Either that or I had a chip shop saveloy down there. He didn't say nothing. At least, not about that.

"It's no good. We mustn't see your undies, it will ruin everything. You have to put the pull-ups on, please."

He was begging, which was cute, but it was still a no from me even though he'd started peeling the costume down, so I could change, which gave me an idea.

"How about," I offered, grinning without realising it, "How about I don't wear my pants, and I don't wear the nappies neither?"

He didn't understand that neither, not until my warm swimmers landed on top of his hands, and he came face to face with my balls, and erect prick, poking out below it's nest of pubic hair.

Not for the first time, I got turned on by flashing my impressive appendage at someone who'd been expecting a tiny worm. A waggle of my hips made my prick flap around in a lazy circle, during which the knob, slowly slipped out from the retracting foreskin, as I got harder and harder.

"I.. er…" Jamie's eyes were following it round and round, as if I was hypnotising him with my prick, "Can you, sit down, please."

Okay that wasn't the reaction I'd expected, and I stopped my waggling, as I couldn't keep doing that, without the risk of breaking something, and shuffled over to the nearby stool with the costume and my improvised undies both around my knees.

The stool was cold being just wood, with no cushion. Hard too. Like sitting on concrete. making my arse get all clenched like it had been that time I'd rubbed it all over Kane's furniture, making sure he'd caught me doing it too.

He went potty, calling me a "little bastard", and all sorts, chasing me about before I had time to get my trousers back up, let alone fasten them. He never caught me though. Mum and Alan heard the noise, and gave him another bollocking, even though one of mine was still hanging out. I got sent to my room without no cake – did I mention it was Kane's birthday? – not that I'd have eaten it anyway. Not after I'd spent all that time stabbing my prick in it. Didn't tell Kane that though, which made it funnier when he'd said the cake tasted a bit salty.

Anyway, I was thinking about how much fun I'd had sucking icing off my own prick – yeah I can do that – so I missed just how Jamie managed to get that tight fitting costume back over my ankles, not seeing that what I'd thought was elastic bands was actually Velcro fastenings which could be released and then adjusted to keep them good and tight. Jamie doing that, once my swimmers were off, and the costume was back on again.

Once more the tight, stretchy black material came up my legs, clinging to the skin every inch of the way, until it reached my upper thighs, and I had to stand up. Jamie backing away to allow me to ease the costume up over my bare arse and privates, clearly intimidated by the size of my prick, swinging about in the air, although he did have some advice about what to do with it, so it wouldn't be so obvious inside the costume as it was outside of it.

"Tuck it down between your legs. If you can?"

Of course I could. I could get my prick anywhere I wanted to, including into my own mouth and almost all the way to my own arse-hole. Obviously I didn't tell Jamie that, or that I could get my balls back inside me, to make space for my prick to go down out of sight, making me look like a girl. Only without a clit, obviously.

In front of the mirror I'd clasped me legs together to keep my prick there, but the costume did that for me, once I had it pulled up tight enough, and rather more comfortably too, seeing as I didn't have to keep my legs crossed.

"That's better. Nothing to see now." Jamie said, which isn't what a teenage boy wants to hear, but he was right. The smooth finished of the material was all but flat in front, with no sigh of a lump at all. although at the back was a totally different story. There it clung to my cheeks like a second skin, with a seam going right up between them – the same one that kept my prick in place – separating the cheeks, in a way I wouldn't have been so keen on, if I'd been able to see it, and Jamie gave me the chance to look for a mirror.

"Here, hold your arms out."

He was holding the sleeves, rolled down, so my hands could pop right through and out the other side. He then pulled the costume up my arms, and ducked behind me to get it onto my shoulders, and to fasten the zip running all the way up my spine, which really tightened the entire thing around me.

Fiddling around, for ages, he got the zip tab folded down, flicking over a long piece of thin Velcro that would hide it from sight, and spoil the illusion the black material was my skin.

Not once did I wonder how I was going to get out of the costume without help, just assuming Jamie would do it when the time came, or indeed why it needed to be as tight, and quite as realistic as it was. I did, however enjoy the sensation of the clinging material moving with my body, stretching quite sensually whenever I moved, so that I could almost forget it was there, if it wasn't for the constant pressure it exerted on my skin.

I did a lot of moving too. Jamie showing me what I had to do to play my part in a play that I would soon discover didn't actually exist and which Miss. Hooper knew absolutely nothing about despite being the apparent signatory on all the notes I'd received, which had come from a pre-made stamp rather than a pen.

Jamie Boother was, as well as being a devious little shit, a decent drama teacher, perfectly able to put me through my paces, even if he was largely making them up on the spot.

The routine was simple, as it would have to be in order to be performed by a boy with no actual dancing experience who couldn't hold a tune in a bucket, as Miss. Hooper had once said.

All I had to do, after all, was come out onto the stage, on all fours, growling like a vicious dog, prowl around a bit, pretending to sniff at whatever scenery was there, and intimidate the non-existent members of the cast. All of which was set to a rhythm clapped out by the assistant director.

Yet, as simple as it was, I always seemed to manage to do something wrong, which really started to wind me up, because, it really wasn't that hard crawling around on my hands and feet, being the best vicious dog I could be, while the overly tight costume rubbed me, in all sort of new and very wondrous places that made standing up tricky, so I didn't. Staying down on the floor, even when Jamie told me to take a break and drink something so I wouldn't get dehydrated, just like a teacher would have.

"Perhaps," he suggested during one of these, rubbing his chin with his fingers, "It might be better if you were on your elbows and knees rather than hands and feet. Then your will look more like a dog, meaner, what do you think?"

I agreed because, why not?

"Oh and try to keep your fingers still."

Turns out there was padding on both the knees and the elbows of the costume, which made it loads easier to do it this way than the to other, especially as my head no longer felt like it was upside down all the time. Only trouble was, my fingers now had nothing to do, so were waggling all over the place. Plus dogs don't have forearms and shins on the ground. Thankfully Jamie had a way to fix all of that.

"Yes, that's better." he said first. telling me I'd done well and even patting my head and bum, to which I said nothing even though I probably should have, rather liking the flattery even if I might have wished he'd express it differently.

"Gloves," I wondered when he showed me what he had in mind, not sure how they were going to help even if they were clearly made from the same material as the rest of my costume.

"Mittens," he corrected, "Put all your fingers together, and tuck your thumb underneath them."

When I'd done so, Jamie demonstrated just how the fingerless mittens would help, pulling them up over my entire hand, so all five digits were stuck comfortably in the same position, even after he'd laced up something like they have on boxing gloves, and buckled in this little sewn-in strap, that was then tucked out of sight under a little flap.

It felt and looked strange not to be able to see my hands on the ends of my arms, but, to be fair, it did help me keep my fingers out of the way, when I prowled around the edges of the room, as if looking for some little kids to bite. It was dead exhausting though, trying to keep my arms, and legs up out of the way, but Jamie solved that, using four thin belts which were hanging up on one of the hooks, right by where I was.

"Keep still for a moment," he said, doing all my movements for me, lifting up each of my feet in turn, putting them where he wanted them, with the heels pressing against my upper legs, toes facing away, and using one of the belts to make sure they stayed there. Then he did much the same thing with my arms, but this time making sure the new belt was threaded through a handy loop on the back of the mittens, and attaching them as high up my arm as he could, until they were almost, but not quite, in my arm pit.

"Yes, that should do. Oh wait, do you want another drink? You'd better have another drink. Must be hot in that suit? You'll need a straw though, unless you want to lap it out of one of these bowls, of course?"

He was giggling like it was the funniest idea in the world, to have me drink from one of the two metal dog dishes over in the corner and although I did wonder if I could have done that, for a second, I didn't, because I wasn't actually thirsty. Still, seeing as Jamie went to all the trouble of finding a straw, it would have been rude not to drink just a bit. Quite a bit, as it turned out, as he really didn't want me drying out as we went back to work.

Have to admit it was a lot easier to get around on my knees and elbows now my hands and feet weren't getting in the way all the time. Still couldn't get any speed up, and I had to keep my mind on what I was doing or else I'd move the wrong bit, nearly tripping myself up. Oh and I walked into the stool twice, because of watching where I was walking – or whatever you call what I was doing – rather than where I was going.

"Look up."

"Keep you head up!" Jamie kept telling me, "Dogs don't look at the ground unless they are sniffing it, and you're not meant to be doing that, or you'll lose eye contact with the audience." he explained making it sound like that was important for some reason, but I couldn't help it and anyway, looking down felt more normal, as that meant my head was facing the way it was meant to be facing if I'd be standing up. I just wasn't used to holding it up, like a dog would do, as that was like staring up into the sky, if I'd been on my feet. Thankfully though, Jamie was able to find something to help but first, he suggested I put the dog mask on, so I could really get into my role, and start being a dog.

Telling me to open my mouth good and wide, I assumed he was going to put some massive dog-like teeth in there, all long and pointy, to scare people with. Something like a vampire, or a shark. A vampire-dog. That would totally scare the shit out of people, wouldn't it? Maybe I'd bite them too. Trapping an arm or leg in my teeth, and shaking it about, while they cried and screamed and begged me to let them go. Wouldn't that be awesome?

It would. But that ain't what happened.

Those weren't a set of caps pushed over my own teeth like the dentist had done that time he wanted a mould of my mouth, for braces I never did get. Instead it felt as if a balloon was being put in my mouth. Maybe not a balloon but definitely something round, and rubber. Pretty big too, although small enough to get behind my teeth so I couldn't push it out with my tongue. I tried that, of course, but it wasn't going to happen, even before Jamie reached around behind my head, and did something up, so it wouldn't budge even a bit.

I couldn't say nothing. At least nothing that made sense. My tounge was stuck, and I couldn't move my jaws, with that thing in there. I could breathe though, so it must have had holes in it, and something inside the ball bit, because, when I did attempt to protest, what came out wasn't the normal "Mmmph!" noise you do when you're gagged, but something lower, more like an animal, and as Jamie pointed out, a bit dog-like.

"It will make you sound like a dog, clever eh!"

IT was. I'd give him that. Not scary but I could work on that, and did while he set about getting me to keep my head up.

He called it a posture collar but it looked a bit like them things actors on the TV wear, when they're making out they've buggered up their necks, only it was made of black leather, rather than white medical stuff.

The front was taller than the back, with the collar coming in two parts, which went on from the back, circling around from both sides, and closing under the little cut out, my chin hung over. Only it wouldn't stay closed. Jamie saying the clasp was busted, so he had to improvise. With a padlock.

First I knew about that was the little click, coming from under my chin. A place I could no longer see, or indeed reach.

"Yeah, that's better. Looking mean." he said leaning up from where he'd been kneeling in front of me. "Wait, let me get the camera so you can see for yourself."

After taking a good look between his legs, at where the fly of the shorts should have been. Only there wasn't one. No bulge neither, so he must have been really tiny down there, I gave him a puzzled look, seeing as I was hardly going to just sit there while he went to the chemist to get the photos developed.

"It's an instant camera. Makes the photos right after you take them." he explained, reminding me he was posh and had loads of money, cos those things were dead fucking expensive, and would make a nice addition to my collection of 'borrowed' stuff.

Suddenly he was up on his feet. His legs acting like coiled springs, shooting him straight up. Those dead shiny shoes, snapping under him so he was standing in a second, and for a moment I swear I saw a reflection of myself in them. Least I think it was me, as all I could make out was a couple of eyes, and some blond hair, the rest being all in the black costume, and black don't reflect in black. We did that in science class at my last school. Anyway it was only a moment so possible I didn't see nothing in the first place, cos once Jamie was up, he was off.

Didn't get far. Only a few steps. Then he stopped so suddenly, he skidded a little on the wooden floor, spinning himself around at the same time, to look back at me.

"Guess I'd better close the gate before I go. We don't want the vicious doggie getting out, now do we?"

If I'd been able, I'd have laughed with him, but then I didn't know there actually was a gate he could close, until he closed it, with the clunk of a latch snapping shut, quickly followed by the main door opening, flooding the room with the riotous noise from the rest of the house, wh then softened again as Jamie left me alone.

I didn't see none of that, as I couldn't turn around fast enough before he was gone and couldn't follow him anyway, seeing as I was pulled up short by the neck.

Thinking I was just stuck on something, I tugged and tugged, pulling with my neck and shoulders, but there was nothing doing. I could hear rattling though, which led me to find the cause of the issue.

A chain.

A little shiny metal chain was fixed to a metal ring screwed to the floor. Not locked but attached, with a U-shaped fitting welded to one end of the chain, that went through the floor ring, and was kept closed with a small screw-bolt that spanned the two open ends of the U bit. With fingers, and the ability to get my hands down to the ground, I'd have easily undone it, and myself. Only I couldn't do neither of those, and couldn't see the other end of the chain, just knew it must have been welded to the only padlock Jamie had been able to find to hold the posture collar closed.

Cycling through the best swears I knew, making up a detailed description of what I was going to do to Jamie when he came back and realised his mistake, it was a little disappointing to hear them all come out the same way. Like little dog yaps.

Okay, so clearly I wasn't going to be getting no help that way, so there was no point in going on like that, which I eventually realised and calmed down to take proper stock of the shit I'd got myself into and try something else.

First I tried to stand up, but that was never going to happen what with my feet attached to my hips, especially as there wasn't enough length on the chain for me to even kneel up, let alone any further.

Likewise my arms were about as useless as my legs now my hands were stuck by my shoulder blades, all cramped together in the mittens, that made it difficult for me to so much as wriggle the fingers and thumb I couldn't even turn my head far enough to see.

I was in the corner of the storeroom where nothing seemed to be stored, on some sort of mat. A rubber one. Thin. Only slightly padded, like those used in P.E. that give a little bit of bounce to even the hardest of bad landings but with a hole cut in the middle for the ring. This meant I was able to turn myself in a slow, awkward circle, enabling me to see everything around me, which made me feel more like a search tower than a dog, but it was better than nothing.

There wasn't much to look at though. The two metal bowls were off to one side. One actually having water in, while the other was empty. A partly chewed up flip-flip type thing, was scattered around the outside along with other dog toys, so this was obviously where the Boother family kept their pet. Not that there was actually any sign of one. No hairs, or that spell of damp fur, and certainly no dog shit anywhere, so obviously that dog was some place else or they didn't have one no more, and were still waiting to get a replacement.

The three walls, were unfinished, as far as I could tell. Brickwork covered with wooden upright struts, and cross beams, but without the plasterboard on top, like had been built across the bedroom I shared with Kane to give us our own space/s.

Where there had been an entrance, which I'd spent all afternoon crawling backwards and forwards through, was now blocked with a big wooden gate that must have been folded back, or else I'd have seen it. A simple drop catch was on top, holding it closed. Chest height, if I'd been standing, but now out of reach above me head, even if I had been able to get close to it, making it seem like an animal pen, or prison.

At the thought of being trapped like an animal I guess most boys would have been scared, and indeed, so was I a little, but I was also horny. Don't know why, but it did. Something about it. Being helpless. Being trapped. Being chained. Being gagged. Being tied up. Being held captive. All of that was making my prick go like a big stick of rock, tucked up back between my legs, where it was slowly starting to lubricate the sensitive skin between my balls and bum-hole.

You know it's really great to rub yourself there, when you're wanking. Tickling your hole works good too. Just don't let anyone see you doing it cos it looks well weird. I know, I've watched myself in the mirror. Mind you, wanking ain't exactly a spectator sport is it. All that panting, with your balls bouncing up and down, while your right hand goes all blurry when you get near the edge. Can't see nothing else after that, cos my eyes close, so I ain't never seen when I actually spurt. Not that I've been doing that for long. Must look great though, shooting stuff out of your prick. Maybe I could use Jamie's camera and take a photo of it. Be great that.

There's nothing worse than being an unbearably horny teenaged boy, and not being able to do anything about it. Sitting in a chilly classroom, with a stiff one, was one thing, but at least you could do a few cheeky rubs under the desk, but I couldn't do nothing done up like I was.

Had some tricks of course, as I did like to try new stuff out when I was wanking. Always inventing new ways to get myself off, without using my hands. Clenching my bum, can do that. Sometimes. Well almost. Still need to finish off, with a hand or two, so that wasn't going to work. Nor squashing it with my thighs and I didn't dare lie down for a hump, like I do in bed, in case I couldn't get up again. Just couldn't risk it. So I was stuck right where I was, all hard and horny until that weird, swotty little first year came back with an instant camera and took photos of me all dressed up like a dog.

At least that might make it worth it. Seeing me as a vicious hound, and maybe this was all part of the training to be an actor cos, like they're always going on about how much waiting around they have to do when making telly or movies.

Maybe it was just to get me used to being in character, on my knees and elbows, which if it was, it was working cos it wasn't even that uncomfortable. A little odd, obviously. Yet nothing hurt or ached. Not really. Almost as if the costume had been made to turn a boy into a dog, rather than just something thrown together at the last minute for a school play, no one was going to see.

Or were they?

Having been so preoccupied with my immediate surroundings, I totally failed to notice any other sounds other than the light rattle of the chain keeping me there, and my own yelps from behind the mask. Had I kept my ears peeled, I might have noticed the rise in the childish volume from outside the room, and perhaps, have worked out the noise was not just getting louder, but nearer. I even missed the storeroom door being inquisitively pushed further open, or the hands pushing it.

"Oh, look Robbie, there's a cute little doggy."

That I heard. My head spinning around at the sound of the little boy's voice, or least it would have had it been able to. Instead it took me a few second to turn my entire upper body towards the door, where there were two of them, standing there, looking at me with wide open eyes, and cheeky sly grins.

"Hello, cute little doggy!" said the smaller one, giving a little wave, I wouldn't have returned even if I'd been able. The other one didn't wave. He just stepped towards the gate with his hand outstretched to be sniffed just like I was actually a dog.

I didn't do that, seeing as I wasn't meant to be that sort of dog. Not little. Not cute. But vicious, so I barked, like I'd rehearsed with Jamie, only instead of scaring the kids, it made them giggle when it came out as more of a yap.

"Oh he's still a little puppy-doggie who can't bark yet." the tall one said to the other, reaching up to unlatch the gate, quickly stepping through, until they were both inside the little pen, with the gate closed once more behind them.

They had to be a little bit special. That was the only way to explain it. Why else couldn't they see I was a boy not a dog. I mean I had feet and hands, not paws, and not even on the ground but sticking up in the air. Hair too, not fur. Certainly the way they were dressed would suggest it. One in a close fitting set of shortalls. You know like overalls farmers wore in the old days, that were jeans, that didn't stop at the waist in front, but came up in a bib over the chest, with straps going over the shoulders to keep that up, attracted to the waist at the back. Big brass buttons holding that in place, and up the hips at the sides. Not on the fly though, as there wasn't one. Just smooth denim, that didn't give no sign of what was underneath. Really? Could have been a girl for all the bulge there. The other one didn't have anything between his legs either, despite being older, and in some sort of white stretching sleeveless shirt, all pulled tight, like gymnasts wear, only not shiny. More woolly. Well fuzzy. What went down into a pair of oddly padded shorts, which still left most of his skinny legs sticking out.

These had to be Jamie's brother, and they must have escaped from their babysitter, and come to look for their big brother, only to have missed him somewhere in that big old house. They sure weren't the little kids I'd been expecting. Way too big to be toddlers, no matter how they acted, or sounded.

"Can we pet him, Timmy?" asked the little one, his toes exposed in the open sandals, making slapping sounds on the rubber mat, as he came towards me.

His brother smiled, until his lips very nearly reached either side of his narrow face, yet those lips remained closed, giving his face a really odd tint, as he teased the little one, "Go on Robbie. You go first. Just like we were shown."

Holding out his hand, as his brother had done, Robbie Boother, slowly approached me, making sure to keep in my limited eyeline at all times so as not to startle me, as all little kids are taught with strange pets.

"Good doggie." he repeated in a sing-song voice that was almost musical, and really made me want to to snack on a tasty little finger or two, when all I could do was nudge the hand away with my head, to tell him to fuck off. Only with the posture collar holding my neck as stiff as it was, this ended up appearing more like I was nudging it, like a dog would.

"He likes me!" he giggled over his shoulder to his brother, only Timmy Boother wasn't by the gate any more, having walked around the perimeter of the pent, to come towards me from the other side. Not bothering with the hand thing, and going straight in to pat me on the head.

"Good doggie!" he was about to say before, a little startled by the sudden touch, and the weirdness of being petted like that, I pulled away, making both of them jump back a little, which was funny so I did it again, laughing to myself.

This was more like it. They looked scared. Robbie did anyway. Timmy not so much, as he knew just what to do.

"Bad dog." he said in a soft, yet firm voice, dropping the previous high pitched childish tone, for something more like my own voice, getting my attention with a sharp slap to my arse.

SMACK!

It stung. Loads. The thin glossy material stretched, across my bum giving no protection against even the palm of retarded pre-teen, or even a little kid, as Robbie then demonstrated as he got in on the action.

SMACK!

These were the very first spanks I'd ever felt, despite the many threats Kane had made and, to be honest, they weren't as bad as I'd imagined being spanked would be. Stung yes. But didn't hurt. Well not too much, probably because they didn't have space to whack my arse in the normal way, seeing as my feet were stuck up on either side of it.

Mind you, once they'd done it a few times, I was certainly starting to feel it. More than enough to do what they wanted, anyway.

"Good doggie!"

They stopped slapping my bum, and hands once more appeared in front of my face, where I watched them, following their progress towards my nose, and then up to the top of my head, where I let them pat my hair. Once.

SMACK! SMACK!

I'd pulled away, when the patting went on longer than my ego could put up with, especially when they started ruffling it all up like adults had a tendency to do, with wild hair like mine, usually followed by some comment or other about taking me to a barbers, or a hairdresser, if I wanted to be a girl.

Wasn't funny then, and even though the brothers hadn't said anything about that, I wasn't having it, acting once more like a little puppy who needed it's training reinforced. Which is why they'd spanked my arse again. Or so they said anyway.

"Keep still, there's a good little doggie!" Timmy said giving me little choice as he'd stamped his foot onto the chain trailing from my collar, keeping it taut, so I had little or no movement left as they continued their petting.

It should have been totally humiliating, but there was no one watching and they probably didn't know what they was doing. Not like when it happened at school, with some hairy gorilla making out I'm pretty just because I'm smaller than they are, or tries to give me to some random girl as a doll, cos I'm "Cute" and shit. This was different. This was actually nice and not just cos no one was laughing at me.

I was being spoilt. Having my hair stroked wasn't a new sensation, but this was different. Tickling my ears, was admittedly odd, and yet I rather liked it, in a weird way. There was some annoyance from the boys when they discovered they couldn't rub the back of my neck, due to the posture collar, so they moved onto my shoulders, which felt way better, seeing how long I'd been hunched over.

Belly rubs. Well, never had one of them before. A few slaps and punches, plus a bit of prodding from Doctors, but no rubbing, until I wanted to giggle like a little girl. Then they teased my sides through the costume. Fingers inadvertently rubbing over my nipples, giving me the shivers and lead to me getting a few more arse slaps as I just couldn't keep still while they were doing that. It just felt so good. I mean, who knew a boy's nipples were good for anything, right?

Soon a small hand was moving up and down my back, directly onto my bum. Then two hands. One on either side. Fingers drumming on the taunt material and the skin beneath it. Pushing, prodding a little pressing in, creating a little indent before being removed and allowing the original curved shape to return

An occasional light pinch would make me start, followed by a slap that was lighter than the real spanks, but still had a bit of a sting to it, due to the spanking that had gone on earlier.

Then a hand went lower. Don't know which one, or whose, as I couldn't turn my head that far around as it went down, between my legs, quickly finding what it was looking for and giving my knob a knowing rub.

Instantly I went rigid. The rest of me that is, as the part the hand was caressing had been in that state all along, kept that way by the pressure exerted by the dog-suit. Not to mention my overly active teenage hormones.

Truth was, as much as I dreamed about it, no one had touched me there for as long as I could remember. Okay so Mum must have when I was little, but I didn't remember that, so it didn't count, so to me no one had. Not skin to skin. Yet that didn't matter to my prick which was only too happy to have some contact. Any contact. after being stuffed into that suit for so long.

"He's a boy doggie!" laughed Timmy feeling the kick and buck of the horny proof of his statement. His brother wanting to do his own research, so one hand was replaced with another, and then both. One still between my legs, caressing the swollen crown, with another coming in from the side, to play up and down the throbbing shaft, until it started to pulse.

Timmy snatching his palm away at the first, warm, wet, sticky sensation, with a somewhat over theatrical "Augh!"

"Bad doggie." giggled Robbie, giving my arse a couple of slaps with his spare hand, while the first continued what it was doing, until there was a second shudder going through my body, and more wetness.

"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW?" Jamie was back, and he wasn't happy. I mean if he'd been in a cartoon then there would have been steam coming out of his ears and the face on him was like his head was about to explode, which, looked a bit funny, seeing how nicely he was dressed. Like when posh people swear and you want to giggle because it just sounds so funny, and not the least bit threatening. Not that anything sounded threatening to me right then. After all I'd just come twice. Or was it three times? So, like, what did I care? Timmy and Robbie clearly did, as they sheepishly got up from where they'd been kneeling on either side of me, and went over to Jamie.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

The blows sounded loud, and stingy, but I didn't feel them. Timmy and Robbie did. Their legs were being slapped, by Jamie, hard enough to leave a red hand print on each one, and for them to be saying "Sorry" so many times I lost count until Jamie sushed them both, with a finger to his lips so he could talk.

"Are you wet?"

I thought he was talking to me, because I was although now rapidly drying between my legs, which wasn't overly comfortable which is why I nodded, only he wasn't talking to me.

"You are, aren't you?"

Hanging his head, Timmy nodded, although I couldn't see how he could be, but he was. Just not in the same way I was. He was wearing a nappy.

Okay, so Jamie had said one of his brothers wore a nappy, even offered me one, instead of the pull-up to go under my costume – something that might have been more comfortable than I now was – but I'd just assumed there was a fourth one somewhere. A little one. A younger one. A toddler, not Timmy, who I could now see was actually a little taller than Jamie. But that's who he'd meant, because once his simple elasticated shorts were down, it was obvious he was wearing a nappy.

He was also wearing a onesie like toddlers wear, not the all in one footied thing, some older kids wear to sleep in. An actual long shirt. Like a vest, that goes all the way down, past a kid's waist and then joined up to itself, between his legs. That's why I'd thought it was a gymnast's leotard thing. Because of how tight and stretched the top part had been. And, in some ways it was. Only it was more see through than that.

Yeah, I could see the nappy. The extra padding up over Timmy's bum, and the blue bits on his hips I was soon to find out were tapes holding it all together.

How did I know that?

Easy, he got his nappy changed, right there, and then, on the storeroom floor. By Jamie.

Robbie was sent running to get the stuff that would be needed, including a little bucket with the words "Baby Timmy" on it, to put the wet nappy in, and a fresh nappy, some baby wipes and baby powder.

There was no changing mat though, so Jamie improvised and used the mats where I was, meaning I got a ring side seat, to watch everything.

The buttons between Timmy's legs were unsnapped, the onesie flying slightly upwards, once the pressure was off, showing the nappy smooth around the boy's loins.

Tapes were picked off by Jamie's neatly cut nails, peeling them all back until the front of the nappy could be pulled away, and as Timmy lifted his bum from the ground, slid out from beneath him, leaving him totally naked down there, and glistening slightly as he was slicked down in his own piss.

I could see everything now, and I mean EVERYTHING. Timmy was naked from the ribs all the way to his sockless feet still in plastic sandals. He didn't make a single effort to cover himself, or look the least bit embarrassed by what was going on. Which was well weird as he was clearly older than I'd thought.

I'd expected to see a tiny shrivelled willy, maybe an inch long, if even that, and certainly not an actual set of balls, just a clenched up little sac so typical of little boys. That wasn't the case though. Timmy's willy was double that, and his balls, although not quite hanging down like mine do, were clearly visible inside a loosened sac.

What's more, Timmy had a stiffie. His willy was totally hard. A solid little tube, standing right up, and staying that way, while Jamie cleaned him up. It even got used as a little handle, moving it this way and that, so the baby wipes could get into all the creases between Timmy's legs.

All the time Timmy had that same smile on his face, clearly loving every minute of what was going on, laying on his back, hands on his head. Thin legs spread apart, Jamie kneeling between them, doing what had to be done until his brother was all cleaned up.

Admittedly the initial smell hadn't been too great, but then neither was the one in the boy's changing rooms at school to be honest, but do you know what's worse than fresh boy piss? Baby powder, that's what. Jamie used loads, until it was like someone was about to go skiing between Timmy's legs, which Jamie's hands sort of did. Slipping and sliding around, going everywhere once more, only now without the wet wipes.

Timmy's willy waggled, and I swear he moaned, especially when Jamie was doing his little balls, jiggling them, bouncing them, while Robbie who was watching giggled, his own hands thrust down the narrow gap between his shortalls and his bare body. At least until Jamie stopped him. How? By slapping his legs, obviously.

Once Robbie had his hands up on his head, Jamie got a new nappy on his brother. A big, bulky looking thing. Well thicker than the one he'd taken off, and which needed to be secured with safety pins, rather than tapes. It even had another pad inside, probably because Timmy, being a bigger boy, pissed more than babies do. Maybe?

Anyway, that was stuffed down between his legs, spreading them open, and then the nappy was done up, the onesie pulled back down and buttoned up again and it was done.

Timmy had a bit of trouble standing up, which wasn't surprising seeing he now looked like he'd been riding a horse for too long, with bowed legs, and everything. Not to mention loads more crinkling whenever he took a step.

Then it was my turn.

No nappy but Jamie did see to it that my bum was covered in something. Namely the sole of that half chewed flip-flop I'd assumed was just some discarded dog toy, but which turned out to be perfect for making my arse hurt like buggery.

Holding the chain attached to my collar, so I couldn't get away, Jamie actually sat on my back, using his bare knees pressed into my sides, like he was riding me like a horse, only backwards. His other hand, whacking the shit out of my arse, with the flip-flop until I thought my bum was about to catch fire.

All the time, he kept saying "Bad Dog!" and "Naughty Doggie!" stuff like that, as if it had been any of my fault his brothers had wanked me off. Twice. Mind you I was starting to wish they hadn't, cos that flip-flop fucking hurt.

Okay, I cried but anyone would have. I swear. Just tears. No sobbing, nothing wimpy like that, and not just cos of the gag in my mouth. Honest.

I mean to look at him Jamie Boother, looked like a scrawny little posh kid, but he had some arm on him. Must have been a tennis champion or something. He sure could swing that flip-flop. My arse was throbbing. Totally throbbing and I'd have done anything to relieve the sting so totally loved it when he started cleaning me up with wet-wipes like he had Timmy.

Yeah, I know, how could he do that, when I was wearing an all in one, dog costume, that fastened up the back and at the neck? No he didn't take it off, as that would have meant unlocking the posture collar and unstrapping my hands and feet from my thighs and shoulders. He didn't have to, you see, because what I'd thought was a seam, the very thing that had gone right into the crack of my arse, wasn't a seam at all but another Velcro fastening.

There was a ripping sound, as his fingers pulled it apart, and then a flood of cooler air right on top of my arsehole, spreading across my cheeks, and then the weirdest feeling of my bits falling out of the suit, dropping down between my legs so they could be cleaned up.

The wet wipes stung a little on certain parts of my body, namely around my knob and arsehole, but if I tried to pull away, Jamie just gave my arse a smacking. My bare arse. That soon got me to keep still until he was done, and, of course by then my prick was all hard again. Jamie didn't stuff it back into the costume though, not that I'm sure it would have fitted as it felt even bigger than it had ever been before, not that I could see it, but that's how it felt as it was left there, no longer dangling down between my legs, like my balls now were, but pointing forwards, just below my belly, where I'd be able to feel it slap into my thighs or stomach, when they took me for a walk.

Yeah, a walk. Like I was a dog. Hope they didn't expect me to piss because there was no way I was going to be able to do that with my prick as hard as it was, and not make a total mess, which, no doubt, Jamie would have to clean up. Unless he did that thing dog owners do, when they rub their dog's faces into their piss so they didn't do it again.

It was an odd thought to have, but when you're dressed up like a dog, on your elbows and knees, with a gag in your mouth, your tackle hanging out, bum on display – it had to be right? – and you're on a lead, being led by one boy dressed like he was in posh juniors and two others in nappies, that sort of thing is going to happen.

Oh, yes, Robbie was wearing nappies too, not just Timmy. I could see that now. The way the seat of his shortalls bulged out at the back. The smooth front where his boy bulge should be and that crinkling noise when he walked. It was all there. Just like Timmy, just less obvious seeing as Timmy didn't get to put his shorts back on. Staying in just the stretched out onesie, making him do the cowboy strut as we headed towards the door at the other end of the store room where indeed there was a barn, like Jamie had said.

The other door was slightly wider than the one I'd come in through, walked in through, so I was able to crawl out, with Jamie standing at my side, holding the chain lead he'd unclipped from the floor, and the two nappy boys following behind.

The paddock wasn't as big as I'd thought paddocks were meant to be, only I'd ever heard about them being for horses, not dogs and it was difficult to tell seeing as there wasn't any walls, doors, windows, furniture and stuff. Anyway, it was all wooden struts inside, like inside, only these had wooden planks nailed to the outside, rather than bricks. Floor was hard packed dirt all over, except for a bit in the middle, which was some sort of tile, all dipping down to a drain in the middle.

Above that, directly above it was a little platform that was reached by a smooth wooden ramp, about a foot wide, rising out from the floor, up to one end of the platform where it stopped. On either side of both the ramp and the platform stood railings a couple of feet high, which, about halfway along the ramp, were covered over with more of the same metal work, with gates raised up every couple of feet or so.

Obviously it was some sort of animal run, for whatever animals the family had kept before getting out of the farming game, and they'd be herded in, through the wide opening, one by one, with each pushing the one in front forwards, until they reached the end. What happened then, I had no clue, being from the city, little knowing I was going to find out now the assistant director was back.

"Right, we'll rehearse the bit where the vicious dog gets captured, shall we, just as soon as we've done the promo photos for the programme."

Jamie had his Dad's camera. A big bulky thing, with light cubes sitting on the top rotating automatically, once they were fired, blinding everyone in the process especially when done right in front of my face.

I was blinking my eyes like crazy after the first one, and then one eye each as Jamie moved to my sides to take a couple more. The fourth and final one – I guess he only had the one flash cube – he did from a distance, handing each as it came out from beneath the camera to one of his brothers, to flap about until they dry.

Actually, it's probably a good thing he only took four seeing as his brothers only had four hands between them but this did mean no one was holding my lead, as the chain had become. Not that I tried to get away as, after all, where the hell was I going to go stuck like I was, not that I could have out run even a nappy boy, let alone Jamie, who'd no doubt end up whacking my arse some more when he caught me, as he certainly would and I really didn't want that. My bum was only just starting to calm down after the flip-flopping.

No, I just stood there, keeping my legs together, and hoping my prick wasn't going to be in any of the photos, which it wasn't. Everything else was. The costume especially, which actually looked really cool. I mean really cool. All shiny and clinging. Showing muscles I didn't know I had, in my arms and legs, highlighting my shoulders, spine, some of my ribs, and especially my arse.

Okay so my feet looked a little odd sticking up like they were, as did my hands, inside those mittens, but both were in the same tight black material, so it wasn't so bad. The mask was though.

Covering the entire bottom part of my face, and even cupping slightly under my chin, it was flat on the outside, looking as if it was just pressed onto my face, rather than holding the gag in my mouth. There was a face on the front. A dog's face. A cartoon face. A happy face. Tongue hanging out, as if panting and having the time of his life. Worse than all of that, was how cute it looked. Not vicious at all which was no wonder Timmy and Robbie hadn't been scared off me. It even, somehow made my eyes look bluer – although that may have been the flash – and bigger, and my hair blonder, bringing out all these freckles I didn't know I had. Really wasn't the looked I'd been promised at all. Not even close.

"Okay, let's get your tail in." standing up from where he'd been crouched in front of me, so I could see the photos, Jamie placed them and the camera onto a shelf he could barely reach, taking something else down at the same time.

What tail? And what did he mean "in!". Surely "on", not "in". Still, doesn't every dog have a tail although how he was going to attach something, anything to that super glossy costume I had no idea. A belt perhaps.

It wasn't. In fact it didn't attach to the costume at all, but to me. Directly to me. Inside me. Up my bum.

Now, the tail part of the tail looked like a dog's tail. It really did. Long and slightly furry, but with an odd thing at the base that was round, smooth, black, about four inches 10cm] long, and an inch [2.5cm] or so wide for the most part, although slimming right down to about a third of that, just before it got furry.

"Ready?" Jamie asked, smearing some shiny slimy stuff over it. His brothers nodded, standing either side of me, pinning me between them, Jimmy holding onto the lead with surprising strength, which was just as well, because when Jamie put that thing between the cheeks of my arse, I realised where it was going to go, and wanted out of there.

I clenched. Of course I clenched, and kept clenching, but little by little my hole started to open as Jamie pushed that plug at and then in my hole.

All of a sudden I let out a massive bark through the gag.

Jamie's hand on the small of my back doing little to calm me, but a lot to make my hole surrender and allow the plug to slot right into my bum which then snapped closed around that narrow bit, keeping it in place, even when Jamie had stood up again, wiping his hands on a rag. His brothers backing away from me, but holding onto the lead that was handed over to Jamie.

"Let's walk you around a bit so you can get used to your tail." he told me, tugging on the leash so I had little choice but to follow him around in big circle. The length on the chain kept short so I had to stay at the heel of his right shoe, almost able to smell the black polish, as my new tail wagged back and forth from my bum.

I could feel it. The pain of insertion hadn't lasted long, just a few seconds, less than the spanking had, but I was ever so aware of the larger part inside me, moving with every one of my half steps. My prick was hard again. Dripping a little, and I was moaning, at something being up inside my bum.

"Not so bad is it." Jamie, patted my head. I let him. Other things on my mind. Well my bum.

"Good doggie." he and his brothers said, as I did a couple of laps around the outside of the barn, my prick so hard I felt it was going to burst, rather than just dribble as I was lined up with the end of the run to get my final instructions.

"Go on, crawl in." Jamie urged, lifting the chain over the side rail, as I started up the ramp. Moving slowly across the slightly slippery timber, using the little slots put into to it for anchorage, until it started to level out.

CLANG!

There was a vibration in the metal frames on either side of me, which made me stop, turning my head as much as I could, my eyes asking what was going on, slightly frightened by what I couldn't see.

"Timmy's just shutting one of the gates behind you, so the viscious dog won't be able to escape when I release his lead."

The chain dropped down in front of me, falling into a coil between my front legs, where it was still useless so I ignored it, concentrating on moving forward, as the bars started to appear above me.

Progress was slower now, not that it had been that fast to begin with. The run was flat, with just a few feet to go, but it was both narrow, and so low I had to keep my head down. Even then I could feel the bars above me, brushing across the back of my head, yet it was the way my tail flicked as it went under each one, that was making it more difficult to keep going though.

Then I was through to the little platform. Well almost through, as it wasn't long enough for my entire body to fit, so my knees remained on the ramp until Jamie pulled up the front set of bars allowing my head to poke out in front.

CLANG!

The sound was like last time, and I'd seen the raised gate between the platform and the ramp, so had been expecting that to close behind me. The bars on it vertical, so as not to trap my tail.

CLANG!

This one I hadn't expected, nor the sound of sliding metal right behind my ears that had come first. This was no gate. Not a full one anyway. A half. The top half. One which had a semi-circle cut into the centre of the bottom, that perfectly matched a similar semi-circle in the top of the bottom part. The posture collar between the two, further trapping my neck, to a point where I couldn't move my head at all.

Naturally I attempted to lift my head, but it wouldn't go. There were obviously catches somewhere, keeping the gate closed, and me trapped.

I could'nt move. I mean, not at all. The side bars pressed into my sides. The top was on my back, with no space for me to get any lower, and the closed gate behind me, was right behind me. On my behind, pushing me forward so my shoulders were against the front gate surrounding my neck. I could move my head, just, a little bit. Maybe an inch or so on either side, giving me a view consisting of exactly nothing but Jamie who should have looked pleased what with the way he'd captured me.

He didn't. He looked, worried. Scared even. And why was he staring over to one side?

Kane, that's why. My step-brother. My big step brother. He'd come to rescue me. Probably.

No doubt Mum had been worried when she got home and I wasn't there and had sent him to look for me. How he'd tracked me down to Jamie's house, I didn't give a shit, only that he had. Maybe he spoke to Miss. Hooper or one of the other kids who'd seen me going that way and he'd put two and two together in that nerdy way of his. None of that mattered though, what did was he'd found me, and now he could rescue me, before this shit got any weirder.

"What do you think you're doing to my little brother?" he shouted, which is odd as I ain't never heard him shout before. Loud shout too. Near made Jamie wet himself by the look on his face. His brother might have done, not that it mattered seeing as they was in nappies anyway.

Jamie didn't try to run, due to how scared he was, he just stood there, with his hands clasped in front of his balls, like he expected Kane to kick him between the legs. He didn't of course, Kane wouldn't do nothing like that, but he did do something. He grabbed Jamie, by the ear, pulling it upwards, until Jamie was on the tips of his toes, and then, put his foot up on this box that was there, and pulled Jamie over his knee and started to spank him.

Proper spank him too. Hard. The flap of Jamie's blazer got pushed out the way, so there was just his bum in them too tight shorts, and Kane's big black hand was whacking it, over and over again.

Still Jamie didn't complan. Did cry out. Didn't try to stop him. Didn't even put a hand back to protect his bum. Just hung there, taking his spanking, so he must have got them all the time, or something, cos that had to hurt.

For absolute ages, I watched Kane spank Jamie until I was almost feeling sorry for the kid, even after all he'd done to me.

Almost.

Eventually, Kane just stopped and let Jamie fall to the ground. No warning, no nothing. Dropped him like a sack of spuds. Only he wasn't done with him yet, because then he started stripping the kid.

Naked. Totally naked.

Blazer came off, pulled by the collar, and flung aside. Tie, yanked by the knot, loosening it, until it would go over Jamie's head, which his shirt did to.

He was wearing a vest. An actual vest. Just not for long, and then he was naked from the waist up, laying on his back, while Karl ripped off his shoes and socks.

Not as scrawny as I'd assumed, Jamie was actually in pretty good shape for a little kid. All tone, and not even a little bit fat. His belly flat, panting a little, sucking in, so Karl could get his fingers at the clasps at the waistband.

The shorts went, leaving briefs. Plain white briefs. No fly, and really tight, but still without showing any sort of bulge as Jamie was dragged up to his feet, and then back over Kane's lap. His proper lap this time. My step-brother sitting down where his foot had been. Jamie's torso stretched across his spread open knees, arms and head dangling one side, legs stretched out on the other. None of Jamie touching the ground, making it easy for Kane to rip off his underwear.

Even from where I was, I could red bands around Jamie's waist and right at the top of his legs, where the elastic from his briefs had been pressing into his tender skin. His bottom all rounded, sticking up between them, quivering, clenching cheeks that had more than a faint pink marks all over them. Pink marks that were soon going red. Very red.

Having grabbed Jamie's right hand, and pulled it up behind the naked boy's back, Kane got right on with the spanking.

Big, hard slaps. Kane's hand raising all the way up before coming down, fast, almost totally crushing each or both of Jamie's bum cheeks, before being pulled away, and then coming down again, almost before the boy's bum had gone back to it's normal shape.

"Naughty boy!" he said between spanks, weirdly echoing what the brothers had said to me when they'd been spanking my arse, with that flip-flop. Not that Kane needed a flip-flop. His hands was doing more than enough to send Jamie's arse completely bright red.

He was really going at it yet always remaining in control. Calm even. His hand slapping all the different parts of Jamie's bum. Coming at them from slightly different angles, so that not one bit was missed, as if he was filling in the spaces between the lines left by the elastic, with an even darker colour.

My prick was stiff, just watching it all. My bum clenching, imagining the stinging slaps landing, inadvertently moving the thing around inside me, which, in turn, made my prick even stiffer. And wetter especially when Kane was done, spanking Jamie, and stood him up in front of him, hands on his still neat hair, and bum facing right at me.

"Let that be a lesson little boy," suddenly Kane's head snapped around, "You two. Get here."

Timmy and Robbie must have been stood there, watching this entire time, instead of going to get their babysitter, and they still didn't. Walking right over to stand in front of my brother, who had presents for them both.

"Sill wearing your nappies, I see," he laughed at them snapping the buttons on the front of Robbie's shortalls, as well as those on the side, so the denim would slide down the kid's legs.

I was right. He was wearing a nappy. Just not on it's own. He had plastic pants on as well. Really tight ones, all stuffed, full of nappy cloth, that was tainted with just a bit of yellow, from where he'd wet himself. Kane didn't change him although he did give the front a good squeeze – but then Robbie's plastic pants had a lock on them. An actual lock. On the waistband. The same sort of padlock Jamie had put on the posture collar around my neck.

"Dummies." Kane called them as Robbie stepped out of the puddle of his shortalls. Least that's what I thought he was doing, only he wasn't. He was giving Timmy an instruction. One that sent the younger one running off into the house coming back with, well, dummies.

Baby's dummies. Only bigger. Much bigger, in Robbie's case, and with a strap attached to the ends of the face plate, that would ensure the big rubber bulb stayed in their filled mouths and stopped them talking. Completely.

Course I realised I must have had something similar in my mouth too, only with added bits to make anything I tried to say sound like a dog yapping. Not that I was saying anything as Kane told the two big babies, to sit, crossed legged on the floor. One on each side. And got back to punishing their brother.

"You know what to do, little boy." Kane said, looking down at Jamie, who clearly did, as his hands were busy for the next few seconds doing something I couldn't see, but recognised just by the sound of a fly zip coming down. Kane's fly zip. Jamie pulled it down. Then knelt down, so I could my step-brother's prick sticking right out of the front of his trousers, every bit as hard as mine, but blacker, and bigger.

Then I couldn't see it any more. Why? Because it was in Jamie's mouth.

He was sucking my brother off. Really sucking him off. This eleven year old pretty little kid, had his lips wrapped right around Kane's shaft, having stuffed the entire knob of his prick in his mouth at once, and I swear he was smiling while he was doing it.

He was. He fucking was. Even though his mouth was all stretched out, in a big round O from the prick in it, Jamie was smiling.

Kane had turned sideways, a little way, so I could see it all. The lips. The wet bits, where Jamie went a bit further then pulled back. The thick, solid prick, veins pulsing in the sides, as cute young hairless cheeks hollowed out, sucking on it, as if pulling Kane's blood out through the crown that had to be somewhere near Jamie's throat.

The first year shuffled about. Getting comfortable, spreading his knees wide, dropping his body down, until his head was level with the middle of Kane's thighs. He was looking up, all the time. Hands behind his back, holding each other, as his slender neck stretched, and started to inch upwards.

Progress was slow, and I thought impossible, but what did I know about cock sucking? Nothing apparently, unlike Jamie who had to be an expert in order to take Kane's full length into his mouth and down his throat.

Nose and chin, disappeared into Kane's trousers. Forehead, pressed against Kane's belt, until Kane unfastened it, pushing down his trousers and boxer shorts, to allow Jamie to swallow the final part of his prick.

My step-brother's balls, were big. Heavy. Swinging, Low slung in a fuzzy sac, that dropped them beneath Jamie's jaw line. A mess of dark curls brushing against the lad's face, who's tiny pug nose must have been breathing in all sorts of musty, smells, before he slowly lowered himself down again onto his haunches.

The kid was a slut. There was no other word for it. A total and utter slut. Just like the rumours said all posh kids were. He went at my brother's prick, like his life depended on it. Like his brothers were sucking on their dummies. Only more so. With more passion.

Four, five six times, Jamie raised himself up. His mouth climbing that slickened shaft, until there was none of it to be seen. Then he'd pause, waiting for a signal from Kane, before sliding back off it again.

In between deep throating, my step-brother's prick, he'd lick. He'd suck. He'd kiss, not just the expanded prick, but Kane's balls. Pulling each in turn into his mouth, then both. Lips nipping at the sac, stretching it as far as he could before he let it snap back again, sending Kane's bollocks, violently swinging, as Jamie got back to the main course.

How the hell Kane could stand all that sucking, I don't know. I'd have shot my stuff dozens if not hundreds of times, just from thinking about someone sucking me off. Having them actually do it, must be so much better than that. Than anything. Well almost anything. Which is what Kane was waiting for.

Part way through having his prick engulfed for a sixth time, Kane's hand pushed Jamie from his groin, joining the boy on the floor. Sitting, on his fallen trousers, leaning back against the box he'd sat on to spank the first year. Long, muscular legs stretched out in front of him, ebony prick waggling about between his legs. Solid, rigid, pointing upwards, until clasped in Jamie's small hand.

As Kane had gone down, so Jamie had got up. Springing into a crouch. One hand holding Kane's rampant prick, while the other reached behind not to rub his sore arse, but to pull something from between those scarlet cheeks.

A plug, like the one he'd shoved up me, only without the tail bit on the end, just a little ring he'd hooked with his forefinger, and much, MUCH bigger.

Jamie groaned as it came out of his arse, and not without good reason, as it had to be two or more inches [5cm] around, maybe more, stretching his hole so much I could actually see up inside him for a second, before he plugged himself up again with Kane's prick.

Jumping one of his feet across both my step-brother's legs, Jamie took just a second to jam Kane's knob, at his arse-hole, and then he sat down on it.

Kane's prick went right up Jamie's arse like a hot black knife through pink butter, and soon Jamie was bouncing around in his lap. Still crouching. Hands on knees. Thighs taking all the strain, as he raised and lowered his arse along that big thick shaft. Plunging it in and out, going faster and faster.

Hands appeared on the cheeks of Jamie's arse. Holding them. Long fingers digging into the spanked red flesh, getting him to move faster. Spreading the young agile bottom, until I could see the actual fucking in progress. The stretched red ring of Jamie's hole, rippling along the bumps and contours of the engorged shaft pistoning in and out of the young boy's body.

The barn became filled with the sound of sex, panting, and the crackle of plastic pants, letting me know the two big babies were enjoying the show every bit as much as I was. More, seeing as they could, at least wank, if through padding, whereas, my prick just flapped about getting nowhere and doing nothing. About as hard as it had ever been before, despite all the times I'd been wanked off.

Suddenly Jamie wasn't the only one moving, Kane was too. Arching his back, in a powerful move that nearly unseated Jamie but then impaled the first year's arse, higher up.

Gargling sounds replaced the panting, mixed in with little cries from both of them, as it looked like Kane was trying to ram his big balls, in along side his prick which was never going to happen. Not if Jamie was going to be able to walk, ever again.

Kane flopped down again a moment later having roared like an animal. Jamie didn't. He stayed in a wide spread crouch, allowing the slicked prick to slide right out of his arse with a plopping sound, that was almost as loud as Kane landing on his back, on the ground.

"Fuck!" my brother gasped, "you're a great fuck, little boy!"

His arse still twinging, and starting to drip, Jamie Boother actually said thank you in a soft sweet voice like he'd just been given some sweets not a total ravishing up his arsehole. His fingers slipping under his still red, spanked bottom, fingering his hole, coming away wet, with slime, that he held up to his face, and, even though I didn't see it, he must have licked it, or swallowed it, or something, because when his hand came back it was clean. The dirty little bastard.

It took Kane a few minutes to get his shit together, during which Jamie was left to his own devices. First lifting his leg from over my step-brother, and ramming that massive dildo back up his bum, plugging himself up just as he must have been all the time he'd been directing me. How the hell he could walk, I didn't know, cos that thing was enormous and had to have been most of the way up to his stomach, even if it was mostly invisible, once it was inside both him and his clothes.

There was another surprise he'd been hiding in them tiny briefs of his. One I didn't get to see, until Kane had him standing in front of the cage where I was still being held. He had a tiny dick. Really tiny. Like less than an inch or something. Not out of choice though. His dick was inside something. A tiny tube, that had it all squashed up, and that cage had a lock on, so he couldn't even remove it for a wank. Kane put it there, of course, he had the key, but it had been Jamie's idea to have his dick locked up, just like it had been Timmy's and Robbie's to be dressed like babies in nappies, and shit. The short trousered school uniform that was Jamie's idea too. To be made to wear it. And spanked. Hard. All the time, even if he hadn't done nothing wrong. He got Kane to do it. Begged him. Made him, when Kane was there helping him with his homework. That's how they started out before me and Mum moved in, and fucked it all up for them.

"Jamie, being the little pervert he is, wanted you to join us. On my side, doing the stuff I do, but you were too much of a little shit to listen to the hints I gave you about what was going on, so here you are, inside the cage, rather than outside."

What? I could fuck Jamie up the arse? Never thought of doing that to another boy before, but now that was all I was thinking off. Only it wasn't going to happen. Not until after I'd learned my lesson.

How?

By being Kane's pet. His pet puppy dog. That's how.

That cage I was in. You know the one attached to that ramp Jamie had made me walk up, wagging the tail in my arse, all the way? The one that trapped my head in an opening at one end? The one that wasn't tall enough for me to stand up, even if I could have stood up. That one?

It wasn't fixed to the ramp at all. It wasn't even fixed to the platform it was on. A platform that was on wheels. Big all terrain casters that not only allowed Kane to pull it away from the ramp, but to push it all the way out of the barn up to the back of his Dad's pickup truck. Then, the cage came away from the platform trolley, and slid onto the back of the truck. Straps went over the back. Holding it, and me, stuck in the middle. A blanket over the top so no one could see me, and that's how Kane got me home.

Mum and Alan were out, and would be for the weekend so that gave him plenty of time, to teach me exactly what it meant to be a dog slave to a horny sixteen year old and do you know what? I rather enjoyed it. Most of it. I mean eating out of a dish on the floor is tricky, but some of that dog food ain't half bad. The wet stuff. The dry crap is horrible, but the meaty ones are good. Even sleeping in the cage ain't so bad although my bed was obviously more comfie, especially as I could stretch out there and wasn't stuck on my elbows and knees.

Being spanked hurts, obviously, but being wanked off, is great. Well, the first two or three times anyway. After that things get a bit sore, like with the bum stuff but being fucked is much more fun than all the rumours at school say it is. Uncomfortable, at first, but so horny and easier once you've had loads of stuff shoved up there. Think I prefer it to sucking too as you don't have the tricky breathing thing going on, once Kane's gone all the way in, and your nose is stuck in his pubes, which, scratch like anything and can be a bit stinky.

Yeah, I learnt my lesson, and learnt it good enough to make Jamie Boother dead jealous, but then he had his "baby" brothers to play with and I had my big sexy brother. Not that we didn't play with each other as well, obviously and boy was Jamie a right slut once he got going but then, so was I. A dog slut.

The End