Chapter 3
Chapter 3
A fter two ambling laps around the training field and a brief stint hiding in the storage shed to frantically google ‘how to muzzle a dog,’ Addison finally saw the back door to the academy crack open. The harsh flood lights gave the giant mutt a hell of an entrance—his long shadow reaching out towards her as he trotted close. It made him seem even bigger than he really was—quite the feat, she thought, considering she could practically throw a saddle on that puppy and ride him like a horse.
Addison stood with her arms akimbo, taking a power stance to assert dominance, waiting for him to come to her. She was supposed to be good at this. She may not entirely know what her next steps should be, but she could tackle the show-no-fear thing early on.
But Fenn was walking a little oddly. As he got closer, she realized why and let out a gasp.
“You’ve gotta be fucking with me,” she hissed under her breath. “The videos sure as hell didn’t cover that .”
Recognizing she still had a minute until the giant dog closed the space between them, she pulled out her phone and looked up ways to calm a horny dog. There was no way Addison could hold her ground against that beast and the beast practically dragging on the ground below him—it’d be more than her leg getting humped. She frantically scanned a few bullet points from the first article, her gaze darting back and forth from the screen to Fenn.
As he got close, a low growl rumbled out that sent shivers up her spine. She was still nervously scrolling through the article when a loud, sharp bark made her drop her phone.
“Shit!” she bit out, picking it back up and shoving it in her pocket with a quick glance to make sure it didn’t crack.
Fenn-the-dog stared back at her with eyes that knew way too much, looking grumpy or… insulted? Dogs could be pretty needy, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about him wanting her attention with what he had between his legs. She was no vet, but there was no way that was a normal penis ratio for a dog. God, stop staring at it, Addison, you’re being weird.
But Fenn-the-dog was staring at her as he came concerningly close . She shook off the strange sensation— he was an animal for crying out loud! —and went with her first line of defense.
“No,” she said firmly.
His ears twitched, eyes going wide as he considered her command.
…and promptly disregarded it. Fenn went nose-first into her crotch, sniffing away like she was storing the treats there instead of in the waist pouch. She cupped his nose and gently backed him up, all too aware of how large his teeth were—as well as the rest of him.
“No, bad Fenn,” she said more firmly. “Sit.”
He whimpered at her admonishment before looking back up at her and sitting back on his haunches like he had a magnet in his butt. Whew, it worked .
“Good boy, Fenn!” she encouraged, fumbling a treat out of the pouch and letting him eat it with surprising daintiness from her palm..
His tail thumped emphatically against the grass.
“ This is how we say hello,” she said, reaching her hand out so he could sniff it again. “You should know that. I think.”
Fenn visibly struggled to keep his butt on the ground as he reached his snout forward, nosing her hand. Apparently, he really liked her, because it only took seconds for the sniffing to turn to licking.
“Good boy!” she cooed again, moving her slobber-covered hand to pet through his fur before giving him a big hug.
If she thought his tail was hitting the ground hard before, it was nothing compared to the deafening thwacks he made now. She ruffed up his fur as he pressed into her—still seated like the good boy he was. Even if he still had the biggest erection she’d ever seen on man or beast. She had to bend forward a little bit to prevent bumping the damn thing on her leggings.
But to his credit, she thought as she pulled away from the embrace, he didn’t try to hump any part of her. Maybe he was just overaroused —that’s what the article had tastefully called dogs flying at full mast. He probably just needed to run around a little, get some stimulation. With Connor away from the Academy, maybe Fenn-the-human had been too overworked to give him enough attention. Much as it squeezed her heart to think of Fenn-the-dog being neglected, she was glad he apparently needed her—as long as she made it through this trial training session, they’d be seeing a lot more of one another. And hopefully that yummy namesake of his, too .
Addison figured she’d start with a walk to get a feel for his manners. But when she leaned down to clip the lead, a quick ruffle of her fingers through his neck fur revealed Fenn was, in official trainer terms, “nakies.”
“Oh! Fenn must have forgotten to put your collar on, pup. Now where would I…”
Fenn-the-dog barked and nosed at the basket on the ground, as if in reply. With a puzzled frown, she looked over, a little unsettled by the idea the dog understood her on that level. It was impossible, right? If only she had a set of those cool talking buttons she’d seen on a few of those dog training videos. Then they could have a proper conversation , she thought with a giggle.
But there in the basket was a collar—she’d overlooked it originally, distracted by the muzzle. The matte black leather was immaculately kept, almost as if Connor washed it after every use. Fenn’s name shone in the floodlights, a single shallow scratch on the silver bone-shaped tag the only visible wear.
“Well aren’t you a well-kept good boy,” she muttered, amused, as she unbuckled the strap.
Fenn panted as he wagged his tail, still patiently waiting for her next command. Connor was a hell of a trainer. Or maybe it was just that Fenn was a hell of a dog. She guessed it took two to get this kind of obedience.
She parted his neck fur and carefully buckled the collar, clipping on the leash, surprised when Fenn started purring . Addison gave him some solid pats and ‘good boys’ for his obedience, but wondered if it would be pushing her luck to try and muzzle him this early on. Fenn-the-human had said Fenn-the-dog liked being muzzled, though, hadn’t he? Besides, If she had picture proof this early on, that had to give her brownie points over any other job candidates overarousal issue…she really hoped it would fix that big problem.
“Okay, Fenn, I’m going to put the muzzle on you now—okay, boy?” she asked, reaching back into the basket for the mouth cage of metal and vinyl.
He whimpered, shifting his weight between his front paws like she was dangling a steak overhead, tail thumping loudly on the ground. She didn’t know what to make of his behavior. Were these bad signs or good? He definitely seemed overstimulated—the internet was right about that. The article had mentioned overaroused dogs were prone to biting, she thought nervously, glancing at Fenn’s giant teeth as he nipped an itch on his front leg.
Even so, she knew she needed to take it slow, offering a treat for his continued obedience and dedication to sitting mostly still. He kept rocking between his feet and slamming his butt back on the ground, knowing she hadn’t released him yet but clearly excited as he chomped on his bribery treat.
She didn’t need to bend down much to be at his level, tracking his movements and body language as she carefully positioned the muzzle.
“C’mon, boy, let’s get this on you,” she said softly, not really sure how this was supposed to go. “God, I hope you actually do like this.”
To her surprise, he didn’t struggle to wear it at all, and seemed downright patient with her fiddling. If anything, he leaned into it, slipping his nose into the cage as easily as a glove. Addison let out a slow breath, grateful though baffled by his cooperation. Once she had all the straps locked in behind his ears, she snapped the picture and texted it to the Academy’s number, scritching and petting her now less-intimidating training pupil.
“Good boy! Oh, Fenn, you’re gonna make getting this job so easy, you’re the best.” she whisper-squealed with delight. “Okay, let’s go on that walk.”
One problem became clear in short order, however: Fenn was exceptionally overaroused. She was not nearly in the kind of shape necessary to keep up with his breakneck pace around the perimeter. Though he seemed to be trying to heel at first, the normally well-behaved dog suddenly had way too much energy to handle. Her wrist burned from the tug of the leash-loop and she panted almost as loudly as he did.
When she finally decided to take a break, bending over and resting her hands on her knees, a solid, impatient tug from Fenn sent the loop flying off her wrist. With a squeak of alarm, she straightened, gasping for breath as she reluctantly started running towards the dog zooming to the far end of the lot.
Panting and coughing with exertion, she let the mask slip on her cool, calm demeanor and started shouting. “Fenn! No! Come back here!”
She sure hoped Fenn-the-human didn’t have cameras out here in the lot, recording how fast her supposedly experienced trainer persona was unraveling. Fenn-the-dog had gone into full-on zoomies, clearing the edges of the training field at a terrifying pace she couldn’t hope to match.
Annoyance turned to self-preservation as he picked up speed. If that much dog came flying at her with that sort of energy, he’d flatten her like a pancake. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting a job if she got run over by a wall of hyperactive canine. Ugh .
“Fenn!” she barked, putting all the command she could muster into her voice. “Stop!”
He slowed down, dropping to his belly like she’d flipped a switch.
“Fenn!” she called again, puzzled but hopeful. “That’s right, here! To me!”
The commands purposely mimicked the tone and volume from the videos she’d watched. Had she accidentally mastered them through sheer luck? She’d take what she could get right about now.
Fenn rose from the ground and trotted over, that funny little hitch to his walk a sure sign that he wasn’t any calmer.
“Okay, so there’s no way I can keep up with you, mister speedy paws, so we’re just gonna play a little catch. ‘Cause I sure as hell need to catch my breath,” she said, miming a comedic rimshot.
Fenn panted hard from his own efforts, tongue peeking through a hole in the muzzle as he stood at attention, patiently waiting for her to throw something. She sighed: clearly, Fenn’s sense of humor needed work, because she was hilarious .
It wasn’t until after she’d thrown the blue dumbbell squeaky toy that Addison realized she’d forgotten to take off Fenn’s muzzle.
Fenn, uncaring that he couldn’t actually retrieve the toy, bolted after it like his tail was on fire. The rubber toy sailed end-over-end, up, up, up…
…and out of sight behind the tall maple tree, likely over the fence into a dense tree line behind the school. She had flashbacks to the Sandlot, suddenly terrified he was going to clear the fence like Hercules in pursuit of the toy, and took off after him before he could try.
“Fenn! Stop!” she screamed, exhausted and desperate.
Luckily for her, the big brute didn’t attempt to hurdle the fence, jumping up against it instead. She hoped the chainlink would hold his heavy bulk as her thighs burned in pursuit. If she lost this dog, she’d have worse problems than continued unemployment.
Finally covering most of the distance, she lost sight of Fenn’s furry back for a long moment as she cleared the tall storage shed and the maple tree on the other side of it. Her steps faltered as strange sounds broke the relative silence of the empty dog yard.
A strange, strangled bark that barely sounded canine broke the stillness, followed by the high-pitched shriek of the squeaky toy rapidly deflating. A loud metallic rattle grew frantic, like someone was trying to tear the chain link fence clear off its posts. Clouds drifted over the full moon overhead, plunging the near corner of the yard into darkness as she hesitantly swung around the thick tree trunk to figure out what the hell her trainee had gotten into.
Addison wasn’t sure she was seeing correctly at first, convinced the darkness was playing tricks on her eyes. Mind whirling, she tried to process what was going on, hand smacking onto the tree to steady herself. Fenn-the-Dog was nowhere to be seen, but Fenn-the Human—there was no mistaking that particular haircut—sure was.
Her presumptive boss stood bare-ass naked, front pressed to the fence, muzzled face looking over his shoulder with a thoroughly panicked expression. She tried to process any other reason for what was in front of her as she stepped closer, reflexively scanning the fence line for the dog that had been right there seconds ago.
Closing the distance, it became all too clear:
Left in place of the giant mutt she’d been training was Fenn-the-human, collared and wearing a goddamn dog muzzle, apparently stuck dick-first in the chain-link fence.
Wide-eyed, Addison stared in confusion until their eyes locked–his gaze heavy with embarrassment, fear, and…lust?
What the fuck was going on?