Sin City 2000 Type IX Part 5
Type 9: Rated Poodle Generation 13
Past 3
by Fixate

	About a full generation ago, young Buttons Poodle came running up to her father, Marcel, whimpering with her collar on and her leash in her mouth. Marcel lowers his newspaper a little bit and glances skeptically down at her. 
	"Daddy, Buttons needs walkies", she whimpered urgently, threateningly crossing her legs, "Buttons needs walkies!" 
	From the gurgling of Buttons' little bloated belly, Marcel could tell that she really was ready to burst if left alone and that this was definitely premeditated. He could probably mop the entire living room floor with her with the amount of liquid she'd crammed into her belly, and it looked so painful holding it there, waiting for him to respond. Better yet, he hadn't seen this coming. She knew she'd be whipped if caught drinking out of any of the faucets, and he would have been notified if this were the case, so she had probably been drinking out of the toilet again. How sly of her, and what discipline. She was definitely going to go far. 
	Maybe he should kick her anyways and make her piss all over herself for disobeying him. He had been going soft on this pup and the last thing he wanted was to show himself as soft and defy able. He'd let her have her fun now, but he'd have to note to beat some sense into her later in front of his other pups. 
	"Gawddamn it! Bad girl, Buttons Poodle! Bad girl! You are definitely going to be written up for this later, but for now, follow me into my backyard. I don't need you ruining my floor with Gawddamn puppy piss", Marcel barked as he folded up his newspaper, hooked Buttons leash onto her collar, slapped her hard across the muzzle with the newspaper before setting it down centered and square on the middle of the coffee table, and then ran her through and out the back of the house just fast enough that she was almost choking all of the way. 
	When they finally stopped next to a lone tree, Buttons quickly sided up next to it and let go, some of it sprinkling back onto her pristine fur. Despite her trying not to call attention to her tiny mistake in calculation, Marcel did see this and with a gruff growl, kicked her off balance. 
	"Bad girl, Buttons Poodle! Do you like pissing on yourself?" Marcel growled at the fallen puppy, slamming his foot on the middle of her back and grinding her into the edge of the piss pool. 
	"No, Daddy!" Buttons responded confidently as she quickly jumped back onto her feet when her father stepped away, her underbelly dewed with piss. 
	"Do you like getting piss on your Gawddamn fur?" Marcel reiterated louder, unzipping his pants as he cast an ominous shadow over his daughter. 
	"No, Daddy!" Buttons replied just as confidently, standing her ground as she glared up at her father's sheath. Unless it's yours, Daddy. 
	"Very well then. See that that does not happen again, Buttons Poodle, or I will show you what it is really like to be pissed on", Marcel stated menacingly as he pissed over her and off to one side of the tree. 
	"Aye, Daddy", Buttons yipped boldly, standing over a small puddle of piss as she finally finished subconsciously continuing to relieve herself. 
	Buttons was going to wipe her belly off herself, but then Marcel barked as he zipped up his pants again, "Buttons, heel!" at which she yipped once and jumped to his side, and then when he followed that up with, "Play, dead", she immediately dropped to the prone position and barrel rolled onto her back. The last order was, "Rest", and the young poodle spread herself out on the ground. 
	"Well now, you obviously have no idea how to keep yourself clean, so I am once again forced to demonstrate proper poodle hygiene skills to you", Marcel instructed as he marched around to in front of Buttons' tail and dropped down to a quad sitting position. Then, he started fingering her tiny muff thoughtfully with his right hand as he gently rubbed her belly with his left and hissed, "It sickens me to see a naive puppy like yourself messing up my genes with such disgraceful acts like that." 
	"Aye, Daddy. This puppy will try harder to be a perfect Poodle", Buttons mrrred as she scooted herself closer to her father and lifted her rear up towards his muzzle. "Buttons Poodle's ready for cleaning and inspection, Daddy." 
	"Very well", Marcel responded with a sly smile before wrapping his maw around his petite daughter's crotch and playfully nibbling on her as he lowered himself to the prone position and her onto her back. 
	Next, Marcel let go of his daughter and commenced to passionately tongue her. Overcome in elation, Buttons cooes and giggles despite herself, to which Marcel stopped and glares at her across her belly. Once the petite little puppy had composed herself, Marcel dropped back to fingering her. The thought of instead having bit her and made her squeal crossed his mind and he momentarily cracked a smile for a second. Then, when he stopped to suck briefly on the musky juice on his finger, Buttons yipped, reached down, grabbed hold of her muff, and opened it as best as she could for his probing. Her father met her invitation with an icy glare, and followed that up by huffing and growling at her again. 
	"Do I look like I want to stick anything into that nasty cunt of yours, Buttons Poodle?" Marcel growled loudly at his juicy daughter, laying a immaculately groomed and manicured paw down on her taunt tummy, pressing just hard enough that, if he were so inclined, he could arch his hand forwards and draw blood with his perfect gold painted claws. 
	"No, Daddy", Buttons responded and then found his other paw on her, too. "Buttons Poodle requests permission to clean your tongue, Daddy." 
	"Very well", Marcel barked after a pause to snarl at her, and then laid down and opened his mouth to her crotch. 
	While her father stayed there unmoved, Buttons starts humping her father's tongue, holding onto his muzzle and rubbing her fluffy rear lightly against his lower teeth. Then, when he figured she'd worked herself enough, he started assisting her, stroking her sides and squeezing her tight little bottom. 
	Out of sight of both her father and sister, Schnookums slipped out of her gold trimmed violet gown and pink training panties, sneaked up behind her distracted father, and started unzipping his pants. He felt her crawling underneath him and definitely felt her unzipping his pants, but didn't actually acknowledge her until she wrapped her paws around his sheath. 
	"And what do you think you're doing, Schnookums Poodle?" Marcel asks gruffly as he glares at her across his rock hard chest, drops of mixed saliva and pussy juice dripping from his mouth in spittle as he talked. 
	While still licking the protruding head of her father's member eagerly and rubbing his sheath and playfully batting the solid gold cock ring on the tip of his sheath with one of her petite paws, Schnookums mrrred to him, "Can I play, too, Daddy? Schnookums wants to be a perfect Poodle, too." 
	"Very well then. Schnookums, fall in. Buttons. Schnookums. Cen-ter!" the distinctively shaven, hard-bodied poodle commanded gruffly. 
	Wagging their little puffball-tipped tails happily, the two puppies yipped and lied down shoulder to shoulder in front of their father. Then, as they tried to refrain from giggling and bicycling their tiny little legs, their grand and upstanding father commenced to taste test each one again and again, pretending to be trying to judge who was the sweeter puppy, shaking his head every once in a while disapprovingly. 
	Unnoticed by all three of them, Marcel's wife, Brittany, had come home earlier than expected, and after setting her bags down at the foot of the stairs, she started slowly making her way towards the group. Deep into her husband's inspection of their daughters' privates, she padded over curiously up to the three of them, and gasped when she saw what was going on. 
	Marcel just stopped, closed his eyes, and cracked his neck, as Schnookums and then Buttons giggled, "Hi, Mommy." 
	"*Gasp* Angelica! Tiffany Ann! *growl* Gawddamn you, Marcel Tibias Poodle! I- *huff growl*", and then as the two young poodles yiped and hid behind the tree, Brittany pounced on her husband tooth and claw, barking obscenities. 
	Growling and cursing her back under his breath, Marcel took her tantrum in stride and just sits there fuming as he blocked and parried her blows to his more vital areas with expert precision. Then, when she'd worn herself out and saw that the fight was going nowhere, she growled at him one last time, turned, snatched up Angelica and Tiffany Ann, started herding them back into the house, deaf to their pleas that their father hadn't done anything wrong. As she approached the back door and was close enough to run inside and lock the place up if he decided to retaliate, she turned and barked back at her unmoving husband that she'd report him and get him shot, put behind bars for life, and or fixed. 
	At the mention of the last, Marcel growled audibly to Brittany and got up with clenched fists, but waited until she was a comfortable distance in and way before slowly trudging back inside the manor. 
	As Marcel momentarily staying downstairs, Brittany lead Angelica and Tiffany back to their rooms and told them to stay there as she turned and headed for the phone in the master bedroom. To her discomfort and fear, she found Marcel in there, quad sitting patiently on the ornate canopied bed, waiting for her. 
	"Out! Out! Get out! How could you?" Brittany began, stamping her foot and pointing at the door. 
	"Brittany, darling. I love you. You mean everything to me, as do all of our wonderful offspring, and it was ungrateful of me to carry on as I have behind you back, but I only did it that way because I knew you couldn't possibly understand, and would blow it way out of proportion", Marcel stated as he slowly got off the bed and started towards the door on all fours. 
	"Wouldn't understand? What the fuck is there to understand, Marcel? I caught you molesting our daughters in broad daylight. I'm going to make sure they have you fixed live on every major television station. How's that for understanding?" Brittany growled as she pounced and lunged at him again. 
	"You're nothing but a pampered, stuck-up civilian, Brittany. It'd be a waste of my time to even try explaining the big picture to you so shut up and settle down before I make you regret interruption my training session", Marcel growled back as he grabbed her wrists, blocked her kicking, and kept his neck out of reach of her snapping teeth. 
	With that Brittany went even more irate as she resumed her tantrum of bites and clawing and attempting to draw blood, twisting and pulling herself free from his strong grasp time and time again. Finally, seeing that things were just getting worse by the minute, Marcel decided to discipline his unruly wife and started raining blows on her. Not saying a word more and looking coldly at her, he backhanded, kicked, and then right hooked her into the hallway and up against the wall. He followed that up by lacerating her cheeks and underbelly with his claws and then uppercut her, her head slamming up against the blood speckled wall with a sickening thud. 
	All the puppies heard the loud knock and, hearing them coming towards the doors to investigate it, Marcel cursed Brittany as he snarled at her. Finally, grabbing her by her perfect full breasts, he stepped sideways, bent at the knees, dragged and pushed her into the air, and arced her over the hallway banister and let her land face first onto the marble floor below as the first door opened. 
	"Daddy?" one of the male puppies asked as he poked his head out, scared and wide eyed. 
	"Everything's fine. Everyone, stay in your rooms until I say so. Your mother and I are just having a small spat. Remember your discipline", Marcel barked as he cleaned his hands off on his pants legs, smiled comfortingly down at the son that'd peeked out and spoke. 
	"Mommy?" Marcel's son whimpered, looking up into his father's eyes uneasily. 
	"Mommy is fine. She's downstairs waiting for me. This whole mess should be over very soon. Mommy will most likely be leaving up, but I swear on my life I'll take good care of her no matter where she may disappear to", Marcel said as he momentarily scritched his son between the ears, then turned him around, kicked him lightly back into the room, and closed the door behind him. 
	Sighing and shaking his head, Marcel went back to the blood marked spot of the hallway and looked down at Brittany over the banister. After taking one last look in the direction of his pups' rooms dejectedly, he sighed again and headed for and down the stairs, mumbling stuff about unforeseen events, collateral damage, and unnecessary mishaps. When he got downstairs, he found that Brittany was bleeding externally and internally and paralyzed from the neck down, but had managed to land at an angle instead of the straight dive he'd hoped for and so was still barely breathing, her lungs ready to collapse and fill with liquid. 
	"Well, my narrow-minded beauty, I must commend you on your dedication to life. A lesser fur would have been dead my now. I swear to make sure your life and our offspring were not in vain. Though your morals are misguided by your cushy civilian upbringing, I shall make sure you live on and strengthen our pups in their journey to becoming perfect Poodles", Marcel whispered to his wife as he quad sit beside her and looked into her glassy eyes and watched the blood bubble from her mouth. 
	With a nod of approval, Marcel marched back upstairs and into the master bedroom, and located and unsheathed the officer sword Edgar had given him when the Mammal Corpse has been disbanded. After wiping a synthetic handkerchief over the thin golden blade, he about-faced, marched back down the hall and stairs, and stopped back over his mate's fallen body. Taking one knee, he raised the ornate, polished gold and silver crafted sword, slowing brought it down to tap his mate on the neck, then brought it up again, and with a fluid thrust of his arm and body, sent the suave, tempered blade through his mate's narrow neck and singing stingingly onto the polished marble floor. Admiring how cleanly it went through her neck, he congratulated himself silently on keeping perfect maintenance all these years on it as he wiped the blood off of it and rotated and weighed it in his dainty hands. 
	Next, after laying the sword down parallel with his mate's body between him and her, Marcel cupped the handkerchief around the stump between her shoulders and tied it down tightly with his belt. Then, after setting her head on top of her taunt body, he cradled her in his arms and carried her into the kitchen. Using the gold-trimmed marble countertop as a chopping block, he uses a retrieved buzz saw to chop his mate into potable chunks, seasons her, and starts pressure-cooking her. In the meantime of her stewing up, Marcel commenced to field day the upstairs hallway and downstairs floor below. Once back in the kitchen and while he was working on preparing a few more conventional domestic side dishes, his son, Pooky followed the delicious smells into the kitchen and poked his head in. 
	"Daddy? Where's Mommy? What are you cooking? It smells delish", Pooky riddled, him being the same pup Marcel had talked to earlier. 
	"Didn't I give you a direct order to stay in your room until I called for you, Pooky Poodle. *sigh* Your mother was acting very un-Poodle-like and had to leave before she caused a problem to everything I provide to you and your siblings. Brittany Poodle is in preparation to be dishonorably discharged. I'm preparing the court marshalling meal right now", Pooky's father intoned at she looked distantly at the wedding photo he'd brought down and taped up on the cabinet door over the stove. "Now, be a good Poodle and fetch me a few potatoes from under the sink." 
	Pooky didn't understand much of the terminology of what his father was telling him and while he obediently went and got a few potatoes for the stew, Marcel stepped away and puréed Brittany's head in the blender. Before returning to his cooking, Marcel set a couple of bowls on the floor, emptied half the blender's contents into each of them, and then set down six more bowls. Finally, after sending Pooky to get some vegetables out of the fridge, he blended his mate's lower limbs and distributed the contents into the other empty bowls. 
	"Here Pooky. Here's something to remember your mother by. She was a wonder Poodle, but head strong. May a piece of her live on within you, but nothing spiteful or un-Poodle-like", Marcel stated as he offered the protein shake in one of the first two bowls to Pooky, "Buttons! Fluffy! Muffy! Peaches! Schnookums! Snowball! Tootles! Fall in!" 
	At the word, Marcel's other pups were eager and obedient to run down the stairs and see what the good smells were. As all them drink up before dinner and Pooky licked his bowl clean, his belly now noticeably bulging, possibly heightened from him grabbing quick sips gulps from few of the other bowls while his father was calling down the rest of the family, Peaches reiterated Pooky's question about the reason for their special treat. Marcel, in turn, told everyone exactly what he'd told Pooky as Pooky looked nauseous and gingerly rubbed a paw over his swollen tummy. 
	"It is a holiday in commemoration of weeding out and taking down the enemy within", Marcel commented right before Pooky clutched his tummy, screwed his eyes shut, and farted. 
	"*Giggle* Gas. Gas. Gas", Muffy coughed, fanning a hand at Pooky before going back to sipping down his fill like everyone else. Later, just about when all the pups had finished, Pooky yelped as he momentarily clutched his legs up underneath himself and asked self-consciously, "Um. Daddy. When Mommy's going to be discharged? Pooky needs walkies." 
	"Very well. Everyone, on the command fallout, fallout of the kitchen and fall back in at the front door for leashing and walkies. I'll tell you about the history of the Mammal Corpse as we're out, and then, upon our return to the manor, Brittany Poodle's final court marshal dinner will commence. Poodles, fall out!" 
*************
	As one not to let a misdeed go unpunished, Marcel called all his pups down early the next morning to that same tree and called Buttons forward, him in his old Alpha Service Uniform and his sons and daughters in their pajamas and nightgowns respectfully. "Buttons Poodle. You have been charged with disobeying a direct order and drinking in excess in the attempt to make a mess on the floor and/or compromise the daily walking schedule. You have proven yourself from time to time to potentially be a good leader and I have noted this when weighing your sentence. Do you understand all this, Buttons Poodle?" 
	"Yes, Daddy!" Buttons Poodle barked confidently, standing up with her arms at her side. 
	"Buttons Poodle. Disrobe." 
	"Aye, Daddy!", she yipped and then quickly and efficiently did so.
	"Buttons Poodle. As a leader in training, you are ordered to command each of your siblings to kick you in the stomach, since you did so well to strain it yesterday for your benefit. Starting with Schnookums Poodle." 
	"Aye, Daddy", barked back with a slight tinge of fear in her voice as she turned to her sister. "Schnookums Poodle. I, order you kick me in the stom, ach." 
	Schnookums looked doubtfully at Buttons, and then up at her father, and all she received was a cold stare from him. With a grimace, she yipped, walked up to her sister, and kicked her in the groin, almost falling over in the process. 
	"In the stomach, Schnookums Poodle! In the stomach! You do know where the stomach is, don't you?!" Marcel roared down at his daughter. "Shall I show you where your stomach is, Schnookums Poodle?! Shall I show you how a perfect Poodle kicks?!" 
	"No, Daddy!" Schnookums cried, her vision blurred by tears. "Schnookums Poodle shall kick Buttons Poodle like a perfect Poodle, Daddy", and with that, she backed up, charged towards her sister, and delivered a flying kick to her midsection. 
	"What is pain, Buttons Poodle?" Marcel barked at his fallen, natural daughter as she clutched her tummy and balled tears. 
	"P-Pain. Pain...Is.. P-pain is w-w-weakness, le-leaving, the body", Buttons sobbed as she tried to control herself. 
	"Good, Buttons Poodle. Now suck it up like a perfect Poodle, get up, and call forth Fluffy Poodle to act out your punishment." 
	"*Whimper whimper* Aye, Daddy", Buttons answered obediently as she slowly stood up again and glanced over at Fluffy. 
	Upon watching his sister perform Buttons' request swiftly and justly, Pooky lost his nerve and ran back into the house. The other pups watched him leave and then looked at each other uncertainly, but none of them left and after the moment had passed, they composed themselves the best they could and tried to pretend that he'd never been there. 
	With a tight smile, Marcel nodded approvingly and then said, "Well, carry on, Buttons. Tootles you're next and then that will do." 
	For the rest of the day, Buttons was "queen" and Pooky was "exiled" or invisible.