"Well, I haven't quite decided yet. The name he came with just doesn't seem right," Karl said. "I was thinking about Champ or Sausage? Or maybe Hot Dog?"
F-you! thought Chad angrily. There was no way he was going to answer to Sausage or Hot Dog! Maybe Champ? No, his name was Chad! Call me Chad!
"Well, the breeder named them Ainsworth, Bradford, Chadwick, Davenport, and so forth. I got Chadwick. Hey, is your son Chad's name short for Chadwick?"
"No, actually, his name is just Chad. Welsh or Old English I think for "battle." Chad was always a fighter from the start, battled his way out of the womb," joked Chad's father, as he strapped his transformed son to the examine/operating table. "You know the way this young dog is battling me, Chad wouldn't be a bad name for him."
"You wouldn't mind if I called my dog Chad like your son?" Karl asked.
"Don't see why not, he's your dog. There he's secure now to get a vial to collect his sperm."
Chad whimpered.
"Don't worry, Chad," the vet said trying out the name on the dog who had been a young man named Chad, "You'll enjoy this."
Chad yelped as his father grabbed his dog cock and squeezed it gently. He began massaging the foreskin until the red dick was fully erect and dripping. The glass vial was fitted into place. Karl moved in for a better view, planting his crotch just inches from Chad's nose.
Oh, puh-lease, n-o-o thought Chad helplessly. He could smell his master's crotch. He didn't want to, but the hands were too skilled. He blew his load. Damn, it felt so good. All he could smell was Karl's crotch. Master. Good. Thought Chad's brain as it slipped into a more primitive mode. Master Karl Good.
"You think that's enough, doc?" Karl asked.
"Oh, that's plenty, but I guess if you want to see how much he produces, I could drain him?"
"Yes, please, sir!" Karl said with a wicked grin.