"Firedogs"

By : Socks
© 2003 Socks Furrotica


"Hey, help me out here." Sam was tugging on his suit, desperately trying to get into it.

"Ok, ok…" Bill said in mock disgust, stepping away from the mirror.  "I really hate these small zippers."

"But that's what got us here." Sam said, getting down on all fours.  Bill ran the "invisible" zipper across the belly seam, and then gently adjusted Sam's costume sheath.  Sam sighed contentedly as he felt himself get fondled by his lover.  "But I hear no complaints about that." Bill said with a smile behind his mask

"And you'll never get one!" Sam said happily, stretching his fingers gently, settling his hands inside the costume paws.  "Come on, do me up, and we'll be ready."

"First things first!" Bill said.  I'm in the middle of painting my own face.  You'll just have to wait."  Sam balanced on his back feet, and brought his hands up in a begging position, and whined in jest, trying to keep a straight face.  "NO!  I will NOT fall for puppy eyes!!!"  Bill went back to the mirror, and picked up the white makeup.

"Darn." Sam said, walking around on all fours again, getting used to it.  "So what routine do we use today?"

Bill painted the spot on his chin with a dark dot.  "We can't do the same thing we did in the quals." he said.  "I thought we could do the Stop, Drop and Roll routine."

"It's not as good."  Sam said.  "I've seen some of the other acts.  We've really got to do something top notch here."

"We can't do the flaming hoop gag." Bill said.  "I thought of a variation, but I don't think we have time."

Sam looked in the mirror, the illusion of the dalmatian was about as good as he could make it, at least from the neck line and up.  Sam picked up the paints, and knelt next to Bill.  "The water pail?  I think we can do it.  We can run across the street real quick and get a bucket.  We're in FLORIDA for cryin' out loud." Sam said.  "Hold still a moment, I'll put your muzzle on."  Sam closed his eyes, and let the pleasure of being painted up swept through him.


"I feel ridiculous." Greg said, adjusting his pants once.  "These are way too tight, and I look like some kind of gay Chippendales dancer."

"It was your decision not to be the Indian." Pete said, pulling his leather gloves on.  "You and your PC ways."

"I just hope the boys at the station don't get pictures of this." Greg said.  "I'll never live this down."

"You think my boys will let me forget either?" Pete said with a laugh.  "With rank comes privilege, my friend. Take it from me.  They give you hell, make 'em clean the toilets with their toothbrush.  Come on, it's for charity.  Think of it as earning your place in city hall.  What's a little bruised pride?"

Greg sighed, looking at his friends, and shook his head.  Having the Chief of Police a s a friend had it's downfall, but sometimes, it could be useful.  "So are we going to do YMCA again?"

Paul laughed, adjusting the tool belt.  "Might as well.  I only have that CD."  He spun his hard hat in his hand once, passing the time.

"We got this far." Pete said.  "I think we can go all the way."

Pete nodded.  He figured to himself they had a chance.  He already determined the money he'd get would go to the children's charity his fire station ran every year.  It was getting to that time of year.  If he just didn't look so…  gay…  It would be alright.  "Can we tone down the camp?" he asked.  "Just a little?"

"Hell no!" Paul said with a laugh.  "How do you think we got to the semi finals?  Come on, we'll be fine.  But this time, open your coat a little more or just throw it off, show off those abs.  Play it up!  You've worked for 'em, you might as well use 'em!"  Pete closed his turnout coat, feeling a little self conscious.  He figured the only reason they got this far was the novelty of having so many government officials with a sense of humor in the show and the locals in the crowd knowing them.  Paul from the housing department, Pete the chief of police from a county over, Larry from Animal control in his cowboy outfit, and himself, the captain of a firehouse near the hotel.  They grabbed two other friends to fill in the leather fan and the military guy,  but It was basically all local officials.

Last night's qualifiers had several of the local news media there to cover it, but hey were going to wait until tonight to really get the good footage.  Pete looked at his helmet for station house, station 19.  He smiled and laughed to himself about it.  At least it would all go to a good cause, if he could pull it off.


Bill leaned back from Sam, and nodded appreciatively.  "You look good!"

"Mirror?" Sam asked.  Bill helped Sam put his hands on the dresser, and he looked at himself.  A flawless dog, full, 4 legs, just missing the ears.  "Wow." he said, shaking his head.  "I'm still not used to how it looks."

Bill placed the hood over Sam's head, and smoothed out the seams.  The effect was, as usual, flawless.  Sam panted a little as he watched Bill put the hood of his own costume over his head.  Bill knelt next to Sam, and hugged him.  The brilliance was that they made their costumes to appear to be mirror images of each other.  Bill's left ear was mostly black, Sam's right ear was mostly black.  When they faced each other, it was like they stepped into a mirror.

Except Bill was a two-legged dog, and Sam was the four legged.  They'd been friends for a long time, and this was a test of their friendship.  But they bulled through, together.  The facts they were both into furry, dogs, firedogs, rubber and turnout gear, well, it made their bond even stronger.  Most of their comedy routine revolved around this.  Brothers in fire fighting, fire prevention and safety, and comedy.  They had several skits planned, as they had no intention to fall anything less than first in the contest.

Bill was putting on his pants and suspenders as he looked at Sam, who was pacing on his front paws.  "You ok?"

"Just excited." Sam said.  "Getting out my last words before we go out there.  Before you gotta put the cover on me to make the suit legal."

Bill smiled, and he grabbed Sam's helmet and collar.  "And what makes you think I'm going to do that so fast, hmm?"  Sam shivered, and smiled behind the makeup and mask.

Sam half closed his eyes as he felt Bill put the collar around his neck.  They didn't have time to get the tags made before they left, but the red collar was just so perfect.  They worked quietly together to get Bill into his "Fire Rescue" dog pack.  They both went all out, even to the point of researching the local fire department, and matching their turnout to theirs, colors, numbers, helmet style, shields, everything.  It wasn't cheap, but considering the prize being offered, they'd make it up when they won.

Sam tilted his head, to test the buckle of his helmet.  "What time is it?" he asked.

"11:45." Bill said, putting his own helmet on, buckling it down.  "We've got time.  We don't need to be down there until 1:30 for the finals."

Sam smiled behind the mask, panting slightly, watching Bill put his coat on, then his own helmet and collar.  "So we've got time for a quickie?"

Bill smiled behind his mask too.  "I thought you'd never ask."  Bill unzipped his yellow turnout pants, and showed Sam his snow white sheath.  Bill laid down beneath Sam, and put his muzzle under Sam's own sheath..  Bill put his feet up on the bed as Sam stood on all fours, straddling Bill's body.  Sam shook his backside, and made his spotted tail wag.  Bill sighed happily, enjoying the view, and he and Sam both brought their muzzles into each other's sheaths.


Greg stood in the hallway with his friends.  He looked at the clock, about noon.  Only another hour and a half before the performance.  He just kept on thinking of the others in the performance category.  Those dogs, the Kiss tribute guys, Josie and the Pussycats, the "Trained bears" with the Sullivan impersonator…  He leaned over to Paul.  "I really think we should change the song."

"We don't have a navy guy." Paul said.  "Relax, YMCA is a good choice.  And you've heard how Pete can belt that out."

"He's good." Greg admitted.  "I still feel ridiculous."

"We all do." Paul said with a laugh.  "Don't worry.  If we lose, I'm buyin drinks."

Greg smiled broadly.  "And if we win?"

"Pete's buying."

"Oh you're kidding me!" Greg said.  "The great miser is buying?"  Paul nodded happily.  "All right, for that, I'll go…"

A white flash swept down the hallway, and through the hotel.


In their room, the dogs were so deep in their lovemaking they never even noticed anything.  They both never saw the flash, or felt it wash over them.  But within moments, they both felt is so much easier to lick and suck on each others shafts, licking around the other's knot and wrapping their tongues around each other in ways they never did before.  They both wagged their tails, deep in the pleasure of gratifying each other while being sucked themselves.  One ran his front-paws through the other's fur, moaning in sheer pleasure.  Paws dug into the carpet of the hotel room as they felt a sudden urge to the other, wanting for each other.

Their lovemaking was suddenly intensified when they both caught each other's musk.  A deep, earthy scent that spoke to something deep inside them both.  They both closed their eyes, feeling drunk on the new sensations of sex.  The rough smell of their canine sweat, the feel of their soft fur against their cold noses, the tastes from the other's fuzzy sheath…  They both also felt that if they licked like this, or they moved their head like that, or they did something small, it felt so good, like the other was doing the same.  Thy both never stopped, until without warning, they both climaxed at the same moment.  And the connection between both was locked, for life.


Greg felt a little off, something was wrong, but he couldn't place it.  He put his hand to the wall, and caught himself as his balance gave out slightly.  He looked to his friends, and they all had the same kind of reaction.  They looked the same, basically.  Pete's eyes glazed over, and he was about to fall to his knees.  Greg then realized in his core that something had changed, but he didn't have a grasp on it.  But before he could think about it, something else got his attention.

"LOOKOUT!" someone screamed, and from around the corner a minotaur gored the wall with his horns, snorting and drooling.  People of all sorts were running, screaming, trying to get out of it's way any way they could.

"Oh, I got this." said Larry.  He picked up the lasso on his hip, and twirled it.  Greg watched, stunned, Larry was a city kid.  How in the world did he learn to lasso?  Larry roped the minotaur around it's horns, and pulled.  The minotaur was caught off guard, and stumbled.  "HEY!  A hand here amigo?"  Greg snapped out of his stunned moment, and grabbed the rope with a few others.  He noticed that Larry's chaps were tighter now, they barely covered his tight ass which was framed so perfectly.  And how he moved really caught his attention.  Several people pulled, and the minotaur fell on it's face.  "YEE HAW!" Larry yelled, running to the now downed creature.  With minimal effort, he produced another rope, and tied both legs and hands together.  He then raised his arms up into the air, looking around.  "How about THAT!  Huh?"

Greg looked around, and what he saw defied his own eyes.  He wasn't sure if it was all real or not, but it was certainly there.  And the professional in him took over.


The firedogs raised their muzzles from each other, panting and happy.

*Thank you brother*

"My pleasure." the other said, spinning around and patting his brother on the neck, under his helmet.  They rubbed muzzles gently, and licked each other's faces.  "And thank you!"

*It's always a pleasure.* the dog thought out loud.  He licked his brother on the nose, then looked to the window with a concerned expression.  *Did you hear that?*

"Yah."  He got up on his hind paws, and ran over to the door.  "It sounds like trouble."

*We should get out there.*

"I agree."  He ran over to the bed, and pulled a Velcro pack out of his suitcase.  The dog stood up next to his brother, and presented his flank.  He knew what his brother was getting.  "First aid, and the small poker." the firedog said, mostly to himself.  The dog nodded as his brother strapped the packs on.  He headed for the door.

*Your boots?*  The two legged dog looked to his brother, then his paws.  Bare.  He smacked a paw to his head, and grabbed them from the closet.  He slid his hindpaws into the boots easily, the boots slightly re-forming to match his digigrade feet.  *You should grab your axe too, I smell smoke.*

"Good idea."  He grabbed his axe from the closet as well.  "Let's go, they probably need us out there."  He closed his jacket and grabbed his room key before opening the door for his brother, and they both ran to the staircase.


Greg was doing a hard and fast triage in the lobby with a St. Bernard and some people in Trek uniforms.  "You're gonna be ok." he said to the woman in the genie costume.

"Where is Master?" she said desperately.  "I lost him in the crowd!"

"We'll find him, Maam." Greg said, he looked up to a woman with red hair and a blue overcoat.  "She's lost some blood, but I think she'll be ok."

"Good, we're getting more reports all over the place of injuries.  They could use your help there." she said.

"On it." Greg looked down to the woman.  "We'll find your friend.  You just relax, she'll take care of you."  The genie nodded, and Greg went over to where he was being pointed.  He saw a little smoke, and knew it meant trouble.  The chaos was being barely contained, but he felt confident.  His boys would be here soon, someone had to have called 911 by now.


"He's locked in!"  A woman in a cloak screamed in terror.  "We need help!"

"MOVE!"  The command was so sharp, she stepped back just before a short humanoid dog slammed an axe against the door.  "YAAAH!!!"  The dog made several chops into the door, right next to the handle.  On the fifth or sixth, the handle broke off.  The four-legged dog behind him wearing the helmet then pounced into the door, knocking it in on it's hinges.  He looked around, and saw another man laying on the floor of the room.

*I have him!* he thought aloud to his brother.  *can I get him out?*

"Yes!" he yelled into the room.  "We can get him to the Lobby!"  He looked around.  "What I wouldn't give for a stretcher!" he said, looking to the lady.

She looked down at the dog, he couldn't be more than four foot five, at the most.  The intensity on his furry face didn't make sense, for how cute he looked otherwise in his fire coat and pants, and the helmet.  She looked into the room, and saw her husband being dragged from the room, his arms and face bleeding.  Her fear turned into concern.  "Oh my goodness!" she yelled, running to him.  "Is he going to be all right?"

*We could patch him up here.* the dog  looked to his brother, with concern.  *But he needs an ambulance and soon.*

"Let's get him downstairs." the firedog said to the woman.  "Thank whatever God you like he was wearing that armor, or that window would have killed him."

*It looks worse than it is.*

"I know."  The woman looked at the firedog, confused.  "My brother says he'll be ok if you don't speak dog."

She looked at the four legged dog dragging her husband out the door, then at the two legged one wearing the full fireman's gear, and just nodded.  The shock of everything that had happened was beginning to be too much.  She'd have to make sense of it all later.  "Can I help?"

He looked up to her, then to the bed inside, and had a thought.  "Yes, yes you can!"


Greg had already help break up a fight or three, as well as get the lobby cleared for their triage.  As he looked up at one point, he saw what looked like a midget in full turnout talking to the St. Bernard and another dog wearing his company's emblem.  His boys were there, he thought.  It was probably time to fill them in on what was going on.  He started to try to wade through the crowd, to get to his boys.

"Multiple injuries." the firedog said.  "This is his wife, he was locked in the room when we got there."

The St. Bernard knelt next to the Elf in his chain mail.  Bringing him down on a mattress made it a lot easier for him to get comfortable, and his armor took the brunt of the attack.  "All this is from glass?"

*Yes.* the dog thought.  *It's all from the window.*  The St. Bernard looked at the dog, and nodded.

"Something blew out the window, but I didn't see it." The firedog said, standing up.  "I need to get back in there with my brother.  They need our help."  The firedog was rocking on his hind paws, excited t get back into the action.

"Go on." The St. Bernard said, removing the keg from his collar.  "I'll take him from here."

*Lets go!*  The dog turned around, and the firedog followed him, axe still in paw.  *I smell smoke. from the back hall*  Greg saw the two make their way through the crowd, and lost them quickly in the mass of bodies in the main hallway.  He figured he'd try the other route, and turned to go out the front entrance.

Greg walked outside, and found the fire trucks pulling in.  He was about to wave them down, but then realized how many convention patrons were out on the lawn in varying states of changes.  He ran to the outer edge, where the police were starting to set up a perimeter.  "I'm Captain Greg Washburn." he said.  "Those are my men pulling in.  I need to update them on the current situation."  Greg produced an ID he kept in the pocket of his jacket.

"Where's your shirt?" he asked.

"It's a long story." Greg said.  "I need to talk to them, Ask Peter Chanders about the shirt."

"Chandlers the chief?" the cop said, sounding surprised.  "He's in there?"

"I'll explain later." Greg said, hopping the line and going to the fire truck to give them a situation report.


The firedog was pointing the canister at the fire in the back room, doing everything he could to put it out.  "Why doesn't the damned sprinklers go?" he swore aloud.

*Want me to find a hose?* the dog asked

"Yes!" the firedog said.  "If there is one."  His brother left the room, looking for a fire hose.  The firedog ran the container dry, and looked at the sprinkler.  "Oh to hell with it."  He threw the canister at the sprinkler spigot with everything he had, and hit it.  The small vial broke, and water sprayed all around the room.  The firedog smiled, raising the eye-protector on his helmet.  "Gotcha."  He picked up his axe, and looked around the room for anyone who might still be trapped.

*BROTHER!* he heard, in his head.  *HELP!*

The firedog ran outside to see his brother being dragged by the collar.  "NO!" he screamed, running to the man with animal control.  "That's my brother!  Let him go!"

He felt someone grab him by the shoulder.  "It's for the better good." He looked up, and into the face of someone in an animal control uniform.  The firedog struggled, but found himself trapped by the man that towered over him.  "Be a good little boy, and say in the hotel where you'll be safe."

The firedog looked, and saw his brother being dragged to the line of police and other vehicles.  The hate in him swelled up, but then he had another idea.  He looked up to the man holding him back, and gave him the saddest puppy-eyed look he could muster up.  "Sir?"

"Yes?" the man said.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry?  Why are you…"  He never finished the thought.  The firedog grabbed his arm, and bit him with his back teeth as hard as he could.  The man screamed, and let go.  The firedog never looked back.  He grabbed his axe, and ran at the man who was holding his brother.  The firedog slid into him, and used the handle of his axe to trip the man up.  "GO!  LOBBY!"  He untangled his axe quickly and got to his feet.

The dog nodded, and ran back into the hotel.  The first man, still holding his arm, saw the dog wearing the fireman helmet coming and tried to catch him.  The dog ran straight at him, and tackled him.  They were both knocked over, and slid on his back a few feet with the dog on his chest.  *Don't you EVER call my brother that!  EVER!* he thought, growling at the man.  He could smell the man's fear, and a urine smell that was suddenly very strong.

"Let's get inside!" the firedog yelped.  The dog jumped off the man, who was shaking violently.  The two of them ran into the back entrance, and disappeared into the crowd.


"And that's where we're at." Greg said to his men.  "I lost track of the men I was with, but the scene seems to be stabilized.

"So what happened?" one of his men asked.  "Looks like some really weird stuff on the lawn here."

"I don't know." Greg said.  "But it seems to be the whole hotel changed.  You wouldn't believe what's in there."

The fire fighter he was talking to looked over his captain's shoulder to the people on the front lawn.  "I think I would." he said.  "I don't think I've ever seen Batman and Spiderman teaming up on Barney before."

Greg shook his head.  "I need to get back in there.  I think I saw some of our men in there already, and I'm betting that there's a few fires still going."

The fireman looked at his Captain confused.  "Umm, Captain?  We just got here.  None of us have gotten the clearance to go inside yet."


Hours had passed, and the sun was low on the horizon.  The firedog and his brother sat in front of the hotel entrance, leaning against each other.  They watched as hotel patrons went in and out, not really looking at them, but feeling the same.  Stunned, in shock.  Both dogs were covered in dirt, some ash, and were scraped up from all the work they'd done.  They sat together, exhausted physically and emotionally.  "You ok?" the firedog asked.

*yeah.* the dog thought, leaning his head into his brother.  *I'm sorry about that AC guy from before.  They kinda caught me by surprise.*

"It's ok." the firedog said, stroking his brother gently.  "I mean, we're wearing our colors.  You think they'd figure out we're doing some good in there."

The dog snickered.  *Yeah.  But I liked what you did with the axe.  Nice trick.*

"Least I could do."  They sat together, silently.  Finally, the firedog looked to his brother.  "Now what?"

*What do you mean?*

"I don't smell any more smoke." the firedog said.  "I got the sprinklers to go, finally.  Seems it's a matter of mopping up.  The worst is over.  Now what do we do?"

The dog stopped, and looked at his brother.  *We go back to the firehouse, clean up, and have dinner.  Like always.*

"Where is it?" The firedog asked.  The dog looked at him, head cocked to the side.  "I can't think of where home is.  I can't even think of what I had for breakfast this morning."

*We didn't have breakfast.* the dog said with a goofy grin.  *Don't worry about it.  We'll figure it out.  That was our first real call.  We're both kinda freaked out.  The Captain will find us soon, we'll go home.*

"You're right." the firedog said, stroking his brother's neck gently.  His pack was near empty, they had used almost all their first aid kit, they'd need to restock when they got back to the station.  "But I won't let them take you away.  Ever."

*thank you, brother.*

"You're my brother." the firedog said softly.  "And I love you.  We're inseparable."  The dog nodded, and pressed his head into the firedog.  He hugged his brother back.  "Besides.  Nobody gets left behind.  You know the rules."  The dog nodded, closing his eyes, and letting his guard down for the first time all day.

"There he is!"  They both looked up to see the man they knocked over before.  There was still some blood on his ripped sleeve.  "They're dangerous!  Stop them!"



FORWARD to Firedogs, Part 2

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DISCLAIMER : All stories included in this archive are Copyright 1994 - 2003 Socks Furrotica Press. Distribution is permitted in electronic format, as long as 1) the entire text (including this disclaimer) remains intact and 2) My e-mail address remains on the work (sockscatt@gmail.com) Permission is also given to print this text out for personal use. If you wish to include this story in a web site or for publication, e-mail myself (sockscatt@gmail.com) and we'll talk it over...
These stories are (unfortunately) all works of fiction. They depict sex. Lots of quite graphic sex between several genders and arguably a few species. Af any of this offends you, or anything vaguely pornographic bothers you, don't read this, and don't send me your nasty e-mail (I may enjoy it, you know...)

If this is either illegal, offends you, or you have no interest in this, don't read it. You have a brain, don't fear it. Go here instead.