By Thunder
Dear Metal:
While I know this does not chronologically fall within the story of my training I have been describing the last few months when time and my Master allows (sorry about the delay on part 9), He asked me to send you a special real time update as he thought you might be interested in our New Year’s weekend. For the readers, I need to remind them that what I am describing, now, is almost nine and a half years after the transition and the training that I was receiving at that time. Now, at 52, I am semi-retired thanks to a tremendous opportunity to sell off part of the firm my colleague William and I built a few years ago and that has left me the opportunity to spend more time at home focusing on Alan, my Husband Master who has kept me in a hybrid role of husband, dog, slave, and gimp throughout the last ten years as we have evolved our lives, friendships, and our contracts with each other.
Now that all of that is out of the way, we are wrapping up our New Year’s parties after having hosted two the past two nights. I thought you might be interested in hearing about them as they could not have been more different.
On Monday, New Year’s Eve night, we played host to Alan’s work party, hosting the 100 or so employees, friends, and their partners from his company to our home outside of Atlanta and then, New Year’s Day, we hosted all of our friends who are “in the know”. When we entertain, Alan is fastidious that everything be as close to perfect in our home as possible so, he had arranged for my schedule to have me home all week so I could focus on the lists of things that he wanted done prior to the parties. He completely controls my calendar at work and home (my assistant is the slave of a Master we know), so none of this was shocking and each day, when he left for work, he allowed me on two legs so I could work all day on the lists he gave me.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are above the age of consent, but that kinda goes out the window since they engage in non-consensual behavior. The fact that it turns out all right for our fictional protagonists’ relationship doesn’t make it OK IRL. Always keep it safe, sane, and consensual. Even if that means you have to learn how to communicate better. 
I am sick. I feel pretty crummy, but my Dom seems pretty happy about it for some reason.
“Fetch! Good boy!” Brett watched as Mascot chased after the leather-coated stick he’d thrown across the gym. The German Shepherd styled leather pup’s powerful and graceful movements were hypnotically natural and easy-looking. It still took Brett’s breath away. Like it had every day for the past several weeks. Brett had been true to his word. Every day after work, he stopped by the leather store and warehouse near the waterfront to visit Mascot. He’d walk in, greet the staff, then scan the security card he’d been given to access the pup training facility.
Seth did as he was told. He liked doing what he was told, even though his cock didn’t seem to need any help getting or staying hard. The ED cocktail was chalky with a faint taste of cherry. Seth wondered how long it would take before he felt anything. He didn’t have to wait long. Before the 3 minutes were up, he felt as though his cock was being forced to get even harder. He had never felt anything like this. He had lost all control over his cock. He liked having no control. He proceeded to B-3 and had to walk outside in the hall from B-2 to get there. His clothes had already been put in locker. Creighton told him he wouldn’t seem them again until the assignment was over. Thus, he had to walk through the hall from B-2 to B-3 nude and extra hard. Seth actually looked forward to this.