Trixie didn't think about being her Daddy's bitch as she closed her eyes and napped against Bronson's warm body. Bronson stared at her for a few seconds, then laid his head across her soft, naked body.

"Outside, Bronson," Cal called, waking Trixie up.

Bronson woofed and ran out the door, turning on the stoop and looking back in alertly.

"Grub's up, girl," Cal smiled.

He fixed himself a plate, then fixed a bowl for Trixie. He set the bowl on the floor where he could watch her eat and carried his plate to the table. Trixie stared at the bowl, hesitating for a few seconds, then lowered her face to it. It was hot. She blew on it a little to cool it, then used her fingers to pull out little bits and stuff them in her mouth. As the food cooled, she sucked it up and chewed what was left, sticking her whole face in the bowl and licking it as clean as if it had been washed.

"That's my girl," Cal chuckled, "clean it all up."

Trixie looked up into his face and smiled. She had gravy and bits of potatoes and green beans smeared on her face.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered, her voice soft and shy.

"I love you, too, baby," Cal smiled down at her, "now lie down and let Daddy finish his supper, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," her voice still shy and almost lisping as she curled up at his feet. Like Fifi, she gave a loud sigh and closed her eyes.

Bronson watched, still a little puzzled then wandered off to play with the neighbor's cat who sat invitingly on the fence rail. As far as he was concerned, the boss had decided to express his leadership and taken his bitch. Oh, well, that was his right as the leader of the pack. Bronson occupied himself with chasing the cat, then letting the cat chase him. It was fun to run around with him. A while later, he was back on the stoop, lying on his side, his tongue lolling as the cat pawed at his neck, massaging it, his long, sharp claws combing out his furry hide. A few minutes later, Cal scraped his leftovers into Bronson's dish. Bronson jumped alertly to his feet as he heard that. It meant that it was his supper time. When he heard the can opener going, even the cat sat up and peered through the screen. Bronson growled at the cat in warning. It was his supper, not the cat's.

"Bronson," Cal opened the door.

Bronson rushed in, leaving the cat to sit outside and watch alertly.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," Mrs. Trayne's voice came from over the fence. With that the cat disappeared. It was his supper time.

Cal dampened a dish towel as Bronson gobbled the left-overs down and Trixie watched.

"Come here, girl," Cal called Trixie.

She obediently got on all fours and crawled up to Cal. As Bronson turned to his regular dog food, Cal wiped off Trixie's face and hands. Bronson finished and came over, settling down beside Trixie as Cal picked up the empty bowls and quickly washed the dishes. Trixie recalled doing that and wondered why Daddy didn't make her do it. She watched him for a few minutes, then shrugged and curled up with Bronson, scratching his chest and belly, her hand wandering down to his prick. Bronson willingly raised his leg for her to caress his canine masculinity, whining in anticipation. Cal heard it and spun on his heel.

"Bronson! Fifi!" he called sharply.

Trixie immediately pulled her hand back and Bronson jumped to his feet, quickly sidling away from her.

"That's better," he pressed his fists to his hips, "don't you mess with him, Fifi! I'll whip your ass then chain you to the bed if you do," he shook a warning finger at her.

Trixie nodded and stared down at the floor, drawing doodles on it with her finger as Cal turned back to the dishes. With a deep sigh, she sprawled out on the floor and rested her chin on the backs of her hands. She wanted a cock. Something to fill her pussy and, if Daddy was busy, then Bronson would do. Why couldn't he see that? She closed her eyes and tried to doze like Bronson. A few minutes later, Cal finished, dried his hands and went into the living room. Trixie and Bronson got up and padded along behind him. From the couch, Cal watched Trixie walk in, her little breasts swaying enticingly. Her breasts had gotten bigger and better looking, he mused. It seemed as if her other teats had shrunk away to nothing and the top two had taken up the slack. She looked beautiful. He sighed and pulled her against him as she dropped on the couch beside him and lay her head on his lap. Running her little fingers over his thighs, she felt him growing another boner. It got her excited as she felt it, raising her head to look. It was exactly what she wanted. She grinned to herself, then mischievously began nibbling on it through his clothes.

"Oh, you hot little bitch," Cal chuckled, "you want some more, do you?"

"Uh hu-u-uh," Trixie caressed his stiff bulge.

"Okay, then," he undid his belt and unzipped his trousers, "you asked for it."

Trixie eagerly grabbed his cock as it popped out of his clothes.

"Just wait a cock-sucking minute, you little bitch," Cal laughed, grabbing her by the hair on the back of her head, "let me get my pants off."

Trixie grimaced and yelped at his painful grip, but continued caressing his stiff prick eagerly. Cal quickly kicked off his shoes and socks and stepped out of his trousers and undershorts. Letting go of Trixie, he quickly ripped off his shirt and undershirt. Trixie smiled as she sat back and watched her Daddy strip. As he turned to her, she quickly sprawled onto her belly, looking back and up at him eagerly.

"Oh, no," Cal admonished, "we're not doing that yet."

He grabbed her by the hair again and lifted her up, sliding under her head at the end of the couch.

"No, baby," he chuckled, "I love the way you suck."

He pressed her head down over his prick. She had her mouth open from the pain of his gripping hand and took him in as he pushed her head down. She closed her slender fists around his thick prick, her mouth suddenly watering. She'd done it for Bronson, but her Daddy's cock was so much bigger - although not so big that she couldn't take him with a little stretching, she thought. She felt for the familiar knob, but Cal's was on the end of his cock, not set back an inch or so like Bronson's. She quickly got used to that and sucked him further down, grasping his balls and massaging them gently, closing her eyes dreamily. Clasping her lips around his stiff shaft, she licked as best she could. Where his knob ought to be, she just felt a velvety stiffness. It was smoother and nicer than Bronson's and she loved the feel and texture of it. She half-opened her eyes, his coarse pubic hair filling her view. As she closed them again, he pulled her hands off his cock and pushed her head down farther. Trixie's eyes popped open as she gagged and tried to swallow.

"That's it, girl," Cal sighed, "swallow, baby, swallow," he gave a little shuddering gasp, "yes-s-s, Fifi! Thatta girl, swallow."

Trixie kept her supper down and screwed her eyes tight as she felt him sinking down her closing throat.

"Swallow, baby, swallow," Cal patiently encouraged, "you never had this trouble before, girl. Swallow me down!" he commanded.

Trixie, her eyes screwed tight, forced herself to swallow him. She forced herself to ease her throat, swallowing reflexively.

"That's my girl," Cal crooned, "that's my sweet Fifi-girl, ah-h-h, yes-s-s."

Trixie's working throat felt so good on his throbbing prick.

"Oh-h-h, baby!" he gasped, "here I cum-m-m!"

Cal yanked her head hard into his lap, forcing his thick cock between Trixie's over-stretched jaws, and deep down her throat. She felt his warm spray sliding down the back of her throat and swallowed reflexively. Cal gasped again, jerking her head back and forth as he fed her another heavy spurt. Kept swallowing as Cal spurted again and again. Finally, as his heavy squirts became dribbles, he eased off and let go of her head. Trixie only backed up a little, pulling him out of her throat, her eyes half-shut as she slurped along its length.

"Um-m-m," she groaned, he tasted so delicious.

"That's my girl," Cal sighed, "clean me off good, honey."

Trixie suckled him dry, then licked up and down his shaft and sucked and licked all the moisture out of his pubic hair as Cal caressed her head, gently.

"You're a good girl, Fifi," he sighed patting her head and scratching her behind the ears.

Trixie crawled up and snuggled up beside him. As she lay against him, she half-shut her eyes lazily, then reached down and felt the tissues still plugging her pussy, wondering if her Daddy would say anything if she pulled them out. Thinking that he might, she left them, caressing them gently then moving her fingers over her still throbbing clittie. It was okay, though, he'd fucked her mouth and she could wait. It had been nice sucking him off. The delicious taste of his cum still lingered and she ran her tongue over her teeth, tasting it as she twiddled her clittie. He'd said that he loved her so sooner or later he'd fuck her pussy, too. Meanwhile, she got herself off a couple of times. She didn't realize that her Daddy watched as her nimble fingers danced over her clittie, twisting and pinching it luxuriously, frankly, she didn't care either way.

Cal watched in bemused fascination as his little girl writhed and gasped on his lap, cumming several times before she curled up and dozed off. His mind was still a bit off-kilter and he knew he'd fucked his daughter, but in his mind, she was still all mixed up with the memories of Fifi. Trixie, to him, was the humanized form of Fifi. She embodied all the love he had for his faithful canine mistress as well as all the love he felt for the girl.

However, Trixie's mind went the other way. She loved her Daddy and had wanted him to make love to her since before she'd taken Bronson as her lover. She was now very happy and had decided that her Daddy's quirk of having her eat out of the bowl was okay and the collar and leash was the way he showed her that he loved her and wanted to keep her close to him. She sighed happily, anything her Daddy wanted to do with her was all right. It just meant that he loved her a lot. Cal leaned back and reached for the remote control and they both dozed for a while in front of the TV.

Around four that Saturday morning, he roused himself and picked Trixie up in his arms, carrying her up to his bedroom. Trixie brought her free arm up around his neck. She liked being his bitch. She didn't mind wearing his collar and leash at all.

"Gotta go pee, Daddy," she whispered when he set her down on his bed.

"Okay, baby," he smiled fondly.

With his lust pleasantly sated, he slowly began regaining some of his right mind. He loved his daughter and realized that he loved her as no man should love a daughter, but he liked the way she acted and she seemed to be getting along fine. When she returned, she knelt at his feet and rested her head on his knee. Looking down at her, he smiled and caressed her soft hair gently.

"Do you love me, baby?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Daddy," she nodded without lifting her head.

"Are you happy?"

"I'm very happy now, Daddy," she whispered, "I know you love me and that you always will and I'll do anything you want me to," she looked up at him with a grin, "I'll even have puppies for you - if you want me to."

He chuckled, sane enough to catch the joke.

"I love this collar," she fingered it softly, "I know it means that I'm yours and yours alone. To me it means that you own me like you owned Fifi and I want to be as much like Fifi as I can," she looked up at him in sudden bewilderment as her words sank into her conscious mind, "is that okay, Daddy? Can I be just like Fifi? I love making love with you and I want more. Please, Daddy, make me your Fifi? Please?"

Cal pulled her into bed, gathered her into his arms and, pulling her face to his, kissed her lips gently.

"You're not Fifi," he whispered, "I could never kiss Fifi like this," he pulled her to him once more and pressed his tongue between her lips, "and I could never fuck Fifi like this . . ."

Cal sat up with her and, lifting her buttocks up a little, spread her ass cheeks and pressed the bulbous head of his thick, stiff prick to her little puckered anus. Trixie opened her mouth wide, seeming to imitate her spreading asshole. It didn't hurt. She'd had Bronson there many times. Cal sank deeper into her gripping bowels as Trixie moaned, arching upward and sliding her buttocks back, her out-stretched anus tightening on his shafting prick.

"Daddy," she grunted in delight, "Daddy-Daddy-Daddy-Dad-dee-ee-ee!"

Cal pulled Trixie onto his stiff prick, moving his hips and stirring his heavy cock deep in her colon. Her spasming sphincter tightened around his driving shaft as his bulbous cock-head stirred her insides, pushing through the shit and squeezing it around his plunging cock. Trixie mewled softly deep in her throat, her mouth wide open as she focused completely on the pleasurable fullness of his shafting cock.

"Oh, Daddy!" she moaned in a low, guttural grunt, "oh, Gaw-wd, Daddy!"

"Yes-s-s, baby," Cal sighed.

Trixie's tightly gripping asshole squeezed around his slowly sinking prick, her colon rippling as if trying to milk his stiff prick. He held her tight, crushing her in a sideways bear-hug as her smoothly soft buttocks finally came to rest on his pubic hair. God, it was so good fucking her tightly gripping ass. It was so tight. His cock's corona tingled as he moved gently in and out of her, scraping the tender edges along her insides. Trixie moaned with Cal, both of them sighing with pleasure almost in unison.

"Oh, God, Daddy," Trixie whimpered, "it's so good . . . so, so good."

"Um-m-m," Cal sighed, burying his face in her hair as he leaned toward her.

Her tight asshole squeezed and released, her rippling bowels sucked his prick deeper and deeper into her. Trixie grabbed his arm and cried out, throwing her closed eyes skyward as she ground her hips around and around on his stiff prick, trying to pull him deeper into her. It began to hurt a little as he pressed in deeper. His cock was as far up her asshole as he could get it. She reached down and pulled her ass-cheeks apart, taking him just that inch or so deeper. Cal felt her ass-cheeks spreading across his thighs as she felt his pubic bone grinding on the cleft of her ass. She leaned forward a little more, squirming helplessly as she tried to get him in deeper and deeper, trying to swallow his hips with her asshole.

Cal dropped his hands to her ass-cheeks and gripped them painfully tight. Trixie cried out as he squeezed her cheeks, slowly lifting her up. She moaned, trying to push herself back down on him, her hands scrabbling on his as she tried to pull from his painful grip. Cal kept lifting until his fat cock-head was just in her sphincter. He could feel it squeezing and releasing him, over and over. The pressure on his cock-head was so intensely delightful. He held her there for a few seconds, enjoying the squeezing massage. Then he grunted and slammed her down hard on his stiffly pointing cock. Trixie screamed in pain and delight as he packed her shit tighter into her, grinding her hips harder on his thickly wonderful cock. She was his bitch, she told herself, and she was so hot. He was so wonderful. His cock was so wonderful.

"Oh, Daddy! Dad-dy! Dad-dee-ee-ee!" she wailed, feeling him deep inside her, stirring her wet shit into a liquid mass.

He began a slow bounce with her, lifting her by the hips slightly then dropping her, cramming his hard cock into her. Trixie shuddered, her entire body quivering from his slamming thrusts into her gulping anus. Cal pulled her tight as she began bouncing by herself, gripping his arms and pushing up then dropping back onto him.

"That's my girl," Cal murmured, "that's my good little girl, Trixie."

"Yes, Daddy!" she gasped, "yes, yes, yes-s-s-s."

With a gurgling cry, Trixie came, her pussy gushing. The tissue in her pussy, already damp and a little crusty from before, absorbed her wet cream and kept her plugged for a few minutes. She leaned forward into his arms and held tightly. Her stiffly throbbing clittie dragged over his pubis and, mewling mindlessly, she came once more. She was soon bouncing hard again, slamming herself down hard on his case-hardened tool.

"Oh, yes, baby," Cal groaned, "I'm gonna cum, sweetheart," he held her hips tightly still and thrust into her one last time.

Trixie cried out as she felt his cock throb and his cum blast into her. As he unloaded his heavy balls, she fell back against him mewling and shivering, thrilled by the feel of his hot cream. This time the tissue gave way, washed out by her gushing cream. Cal squirted hard into her a few more times then sighed and lay back, his prick finally oozing as his balls spasmed, emptying the last of his spermy cum into her. Trixie moaned happily.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," Trixie whimpered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"What's that, baby?" Cal whispered, rousing himself to see what Trixie had done to be sorry about.

"I knocked the tissue out of my pussy," she moaned, "I'm sorry. So sorry, I didn't mean to."

"That's okay, honey," Cal chuckled, "I'd forgotten completely about it, have you had that in you the whole time?"

"Uh, huh," she nodded, "up until a few seconds ago when I knocked it out," she pouted in a girlish display of disappointment, "I wanted it to stay in until you pulled it out."

"Well, don't worry about it. It's okay," he pulled her to him and kissed her cheek.

"Oh, but, Daddy! That was so good," she whispered looking at him adoringly, "it was so very good. Umm-mm-mm," she squeezed his neck happily.

Cal hugged her again and kissed the side of her face.

"I'm your bitch, aren't I, Daddy?" Trixie whimpered pressing her face to his, "I'm your best bitch, huh?"

"Yes, you are, honey," he smiled, kissing her again, "you're my one and only best little bitch."

She squeezed her buttocks tight around his softening prick and giggled. Thinking that she could be his bitch even better than Fifi. Fifi had only lived 15 years and she, Trixie, was already 17. She could be Daddy's puppy-dog until she was at least 80. He was only 39 now, so he should live another 50 or 60 years at least. She shook her head, quickly putting those thoughts out of her mind. Those thoughts didn't belong in the mind of a puppy-dog, she sighed and squeezed his wonderful prick with her asshole once more, looking into his face and showing her dimples. On impulse she hugged his neck again and buried her face in his neck, licking and kissing happily.

"Hey, hey," he laughed, "don't tickle."

"I love you, Daddy, and, and, and I love your cock."

"That's good," he chuckled, spinning her so her back was to him and slid down, Trixie lying on top of him, her ass still firmly plugged.

Cal grabbed his remote and turned the TV on flipping through all the available channels. All that was on were church service programs. He switched it off in disgust. All those so-called preachers wanted was to get your money. None of them worked for a living, all they did was con people out of their hard-earned money. Everyone of those damn preachers was a con-artist. He swore he'd call the cable company and get something he could watch on his days off. Trixie just lay back, happily squeezing his soft cock with her tight ass. After a long while, Cal pulled her onto her side, his prick half-stiff in her as they dropped off to sleep.

Trixie awakened in the early afternoon. She needed to pee, but her Daddy's prick was still planted in her ass and firming up.

"Daddy," she whispered.

Cal stirred slightly.

"Daddy," Trixie called a little louder, patting the hand on her tummy.

Cal stirred and grunted, yawning and humping into her comfortably.

"Yes, baby," he mumbled.

"I gotta go pee, Daddy," Trixie whined.

"Oh."

He rolled onto his back, carrying her with him as he sat up. Kissing her neck, he helped her up, slipping his stiff prick out of her loosely grasping asshole.

"Hold it tight, baby," he grinned, pressing her ass-cheeks together to keep her from dripping on the floor.

"Yes, Daddy," she replaced his hands with hers and dashed off, her little pink toes dancing on the floor.

"She is a beautiful sight," he marveled, long, coltish legs, slender girlish waist and full, if smallish, titties, "she's no dog," he smiled, "but she is my little bitch," he glanced down at his shitty-brown cock, "and a damn good piece of ass. I'm glad I kept her at home . . . for myself," he added standing and stretching.

Bronson thumped his tail on the bed as Cal padded into the bathroom. He needed to clean the shit off his prick and either fuck Trixie or get a blow-job from her. After all, he was the lead dog.

A few days later, Cal got a six-month old Akita bitch from the man he knew. The man said that Akita's usually didn't go into heat until they were around a year old and if he had breeding in mind, to wait at least that long before putting her with a stud. When he got her home, Bronson, at first, walked stiff-legged around her, sniffing her as she stood still and let him get used to her. After a while, she was just an eager puppy, sniffing and inspecting her new home. Bronson escorted her around as if she were his brand-new bride - which, in a way, she was. When the big dog lay down for a nap, she snuggled up against him companionably. He laid his head across her shoulder like he had with Trixie and the young Akita heaved a big sigh and dozed off.

Within the next few weeks, Cal had Trixie on birth control pills and kept her on them for a couple of years. Less than a year later, Bronson impregnated Blossom - as Trixie named her - and she had four puppies. When they were old enough, Cal gave them to friends and relatives. Realizing that if he let Bronson have his way, she'd drop a litter of pups every eight months, he put Blossom on canine birth control. He now had his two bitches on birth control. The fact that she couldn't have pups didn't stop Bronson. He'd gotten used to fucking Trixie several times a day and he didn't think that Blossom should be exempt from his daily attentions. At least once a day, he mounted her and filled her canine pussy with his doggy cum. He took the little bitch any way he found her - from behind, lying on her back, from the side and even backwards. Blossom quickly got used to his attentiveness and when she thought he was overdue, would lick and suckle his long, red prick, lapping down the cum she extracted from him eagerly.

When Cal took Trixie off the pill, she quickly got pregnant. She'd finally won the argument about having his puppies and she had an actual litter - triplets.