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A couple months of chastity and suffering were enough to mentally break almost anyone. The need for a climax, especially when a male was used to reaching release two or three times a week on his own, could be an extremely powerful and commanding one. Manipulating it was an evil thing to do, but then again, there would always be people in the world who didn't see it as being such a big deal.

"That's right...keep sucking, you little slut..."

Exile was nearing the two month point, and during that time, his body was subjected to some of the worst sexual tortures that one could imagine. Every one of his holes had been abused and fucked hard, his cock and his sack had been teased and slapped while he was still trapped inside of his cage, and he'd even been penetrated on both ends while he was edged near to a climax, while his groin ached with the need to actually achieve a release.

The lion behind the entire plot, Albaz, was reaping the benefits of having mentally broken his hybrid friend. As far gone as he thought Exile was, and being the villain behind the entire plot, Albaz didn't seem to be the least bit remorseful for his actions. Then again, it was difficult for him not to grin when he was looking down on the huscoon, watching as inch after inch of his cock disappeared into the muzzle of the naked hybrid, only to reappear, glistening with saliva and throbbing against the lips of the hungry submissive.

Each detail of the blowjob was etched into the mind of Exile, who, despite earlier thoughts, might not have been as far gone as others thought.

There were a number of different males who had the pleasure of passing the hybrid along, and each time, they added a link to the his chain, rather than breaking it for him. Each time, right when it seemed there might be some kind of relief in sight, it was yanked right back and away from him, and each time, his body and his mind were twisted a little bit further into something that Albaz could keep by his side. That was always the plan, and so far, it seemed to work to perfection.

"Keep that throat open n-nice and wide, bitch," Albaz groaned with delight, as he felt a familiar tingling in the base of his sack, spurred on by the impressive oral skills that Exile happened to carry. Those weren't a result of his training, though, they certainly made his life a lot easier, especially when he was faced with the task of deep-throating a lusty equine.

Compared to that, Albaz wasn't even a struggle to handle, despite how large his manhood was. "T-that's it, fuck... nnnyeah, I'm cumming!" the bright, blue lion cried out as he threw his head back against his deep, comfortable recliner and went slack-jawed. His claws were scraping against the back of Exile's head, raking deep marks into his headfur as cum began bursting against the back of Exile's throat. Warm, creamy liquid splashed against his tongue and poured right down into his gullet as he skillfully swallowed against the pulsing rod, knowing that he could handle every drop that Albaz had to offer, no matter how voluminous the load was.

There was plenty of it, no doubt; Exile actually felt his hunger satisfied by the sheer amount of ejaculate that was still trickling down his throat.

His knees no longer felt the pain of the harsh, hardwood floors underneath them. His back didn't strain, despite his compromised position, and his throat wasn't the least bit sore, even after it was brutally jabbed, over and over again by the long, thick cock of a domineering lion. He hadn't felt any real pain in quite some time, and it might have been concerning, if not for the the fact that he knew exactly what the problem was.

"Ahhn...yeah...that's the good stuff. You're really starting to learn your place, Exile. I'm glad you finally figured it out. Took you long enough to come around."

Even the taunting, harsh words of Albaz weren't stinging on Exile's ears, as they traveled across them. In the back of his mind, Exile knew that it should bother him, but something was blocking that anger from rising to the surface.

More appropriately, that anger was already being occupied by something else.

"Well, that's about what you were good for today, isn't it?" Albaz asked, refusing to give Exile the living value that he deserved. "Looks like you don't really have the fire in your eyes like you did the last couple times...how about you just fetch me a drink, then? I'm sure you know at least a couple decent recipes."

Without another order, Exile knew to stand upright and nod his head just a little bit. "As you wish, master."

Albaz narrowed his eyes just slightly on the hybrid, as if he could detect even the faintest hints of sarcasm in Exile's voice, but he dismissed it as being too critical of the hybrid. At the end of the day, Exile had done exactly what he was asked, every single time, and Albaz had no doubt that his huscoon was completely broken in, ready to serve for the rest of his days as a pet that would never turn down any instruction.

He shamelessly looked under the bouncing, curled tail at the base of Exile's spine as he walked away, grinning at the thought of just how easily he could slam his cock deep into that passage, without even the least bit of concern for Exile's well-being, if he really wanted to. He was literally cocksure in his ability to make the mentally broken hybrid do whatever he asked, and he was even a little bit proud at just how quickly he heard Exile gathering up glasses and bottles to fix a drink in the kitchen.

This is it...this has to be it. I've been waiting too long for this moment...

Despite the fact that his mind might actually be permanently twisted, Exile never lost sight of the goal, regardless of what Albaz and his troop of domineering friends might think. His determination to be the best submissive that he could be was actually spurred on by the fact that he knew it to be his only method of escape, and now that he had a potential out, he wasn't going to pass up on the opportunity.

He knew that there was a small supply of some questionable pills sitting in the cupboard, and Albaz wasn't in any rush to get up out of his chair. Exile didn't even have to be sneaky about his tactics...it was easy, all told, for the hybrid to pop the top off of a bottle of vodka, mix it into a glass with just a little bit of lemon-lime soda, and drop a pill right into the mix. It didn't make even the slightest sound, finding itself completely drowned out by the quiet fizzing of the soda as it dissolved into the glass. The concoction was entirely clear, and looked like nothing more than an innocent, refreshing drink, just like Albaz had asked for.

Exile was trying not to grit his fangs as he returned to the living room, still drooling tiny streams of cum from the corners of his muzzle. It infuriated him to see just how arrogantly Albaz wore the key to his chastity cage, allowing it to hang upon a necklace, sitting and glimmering in the artificial light of the living room, always having been so close to Exile, and yet, impossible for him to grasp.

"I can smell the vodka from here! You know, you don't have to get me drunk and butter me up if you're looking for round two," Albaz suggested, as if he really thought that Exile was looking for a little more action. "You just have to give me a few more minutes to work up another batch of juice for you..."

"I know you like your drinks the same way I do; stiff, but with a little give after you get about halfway through."

"...That was a little too clever for you, Exile...but," Albaz paused, as he took a sip of the offered drink, "The drink is pretty damn good. A whole lot better than your line, really."

There never seemed to be a truly kind statement, or even just a mere word of praise for Exile, when Albaz was speaking to him. He didn't just treat the hybrid as a submissive; he had to literally degrade the huscoon at every turn, making sure that he didn't find himself in a position of confidence where he might try and overthrow the otherwise indomitable lion.

Albaz was completely unaware that his tactics were all for naught.

"I put a lot more effort into the drink that I did into my words," Exile replied, his voice painfully dry as he narrowed his eyes on the blue lion. His tail seemed to curl perhaps even a bit more than it usually would, as he eagerly watched Albaz take one deep sip after another.

Within minutes of standing back at his master's side, Exile could see the grip slipping from Albaz's glass. Exile nearly felt compelled to catch it and keep the mess from the floor, but given everything that he'd been through over the past two months, he shrugged it off, and even chuckled as he watched the tainted liquid spilling into the soft, clean carpet.

"So much for round two," Exile murmured, as Albaz looked up from his chair with half-lidded eyes. Despite their tired appearance, there was a hint of terror in them as Albaz felt his consciousness slipping away, with the last sight to grace him being that of Exile dangling a key over the short, stubby bridge of his muzzle...

**

Some people truly believed that whatever went around came around, and they were willing to wait for something terrible to happen to those who had wronged them, simply believing that it would come to pass in time.

Then, there was Exile, who took matters into his own paws, as he placed a key around his neck, and picked up the pair of boxers that he'd stripped away from his body earlier that afternoon.

"Wake up, asshole," he growled at his sleeping master, before he stuffed the end of his freshly worn undies against the lion's face and pried his muzzle open, forcing Albaz to nearly drown in the overwhelming scent that the hybrid left behind on his clothes. Groggy, heavy eyelids struggled to open as Albaz whirled his head around, but his eyes were too tired to focus on anything. He hardly had the chance to realize what was going on before it was already far too late...karma was staring him right in the face, looming over him and holding him down without even the slightest bit of a struggle. "Finding it kind of hard to move? Yeah...you're gonna notice a couple side effects."

Albaz tried to lift his wrists, but his arms refused to heed his orders. His paws were almost completely limp against the arms of his deep, comfortable chair, and his spine was stuck in a position that he figured had to be stiff and uncomfortable, though he couldn't be sure; there was almost no sensation coming up from the base of his spine.

His eyes still struggled to stay open, and his breathing was hampered as he raised a brow at Exile. "I'm not sure why you look so confused...it was only a matter of time, really," Exile suggested. "You didn't think that I was going to be some obedient little bitch for the rest of my life, did you...?"

It was shocking enough to Albaz that he couldn't move his body away from the renegade submissive.

It was only made worse when he noticed the way that Exile's cock hung down between his legs, beginning to fill with blood and growing thick at the excitement that was building within him. Heavy, swollen testes hung below, eager perhaps more than ever for their inevitable release, and without so much as glancing down, Albaz was already sure of where the cage had gotten to, even if he couldn't see it.

He didn't want to look down between his legs and see the subtle glimmer of the metal cage around his deflated member, but sure enough, it sat there, mocking him for his arrogance, glinting back up at him until Exile closed the shades on the living room window, darkening the air to appropriately fit the mood.

"I'd feel maybe the tiniest bit sorry for you, but you clearly still don't feel bad about what you did to me...so I guess I won't feel bad at all for what I'm about to do to you."

Exile was narrowing his eyes on Albaz as if he were a physical target, rather than the outlet for his pent up sexual frustrations. With ease, he gripped the blue lion by the shoulder and toppled him down to the floor, and thanks to the suspicious pill in his drink, Albaz didn't have even a single muscle to fight back with. He tumbled over, landing harshly on his knees and failing to catch himself with limp arms; it might have come as a blessing later on, as it kept Albaz from seeing what was going on behind him, and as biology would dictate, Exile's cock wasn't just growing to an ordinary size, after such a prolonged chastity.

Even the hybrid himself was grinning with appreciation at the size of his growing erection, as he gripped it by the base and hovered over Albaz. He pulled the long, rope-like tail of the lion out of the way, exposing a tailhole that wasn't used to seeing a lot of action, and certainly not from the size it was about to.

It may have been a blessing in disguise that Albaz's nerves were dulled, as he couldn't properly feel his own manhood straining against the cage, and almost didn't feel it when the tapered, dripping tip of Exile's length pressed up against his exposed pucker. "I dunno if this tight little ass can handle two months worth of cum...guess there's only one way to find out, though...right?"

Albaz never had a chance to protest. His tired, numb lips could only muddle against the carpet as Exile jabbed forth, burying the head of his impressive rod inside of the drugged feline. His body still shuddered just a little bit from the thrust, but he could only grunt helplessly as inch after inch of the hybrid cock began to fill his backside in a slow, teasing push, like a thumb on the back of a syringe.

Exile couldn't keep the grin from his face, all the while.

"I d-dunno...I can't believe you're really this t-tight! Must just be because I'm so big..." Exile cheered himself on, treating Albaz with all of the same lack of respect that the lion treated him with. He'd happily compliment himself and the thickness of his cock, while giving Albaz no credit for being rather inexperienced anally. It made the moment that much more enjoyable for the hybrid as he pulled back painfully slowly, pretending to build a nice, easy pace...only to ram his hips forth and bury the whole of his cock into Albaz, while his thick, heavy sack swung up and slapped against the lion's inner thigh with a quiet pap!

The blue lion was still too phased to make a proper, moaning response. Even if there were no drugs in his system, he was finding it hard to believe that Exile ever found a way to get the better of him, but in truth, it was his own hubris that was his undoing, in trusting that Exile was broken enough to forego his one chance at freedom.

The hybrid had taken that chance, but instead of merely running away with it, he was staying, making sure that Albaz would never forget the punishment that he was due. After everything that Exile was put through, the huscoon couldn't feel even an ounce of guilt for the way that Albaz's inner walls struggled to adjust to the invasion of his cock. He was grinning like a clown each and every time that the lion let out a quiet, pitiful grunt, and he could already feel tiny, soothing drops of precum spilling from the end of his pent length. It was no shock to either male that there was going to be such a grand mess, as already, the weight of Exile's sack was causing it to swing and wobble with each thrust. The massive, heated load was just begging to escape, and as much as Exile couldn't wait to see his former captor painted white, he wanted to take things slow and enjoy the moment of seeing such a dominant figure completely broken before him.

That sight alone was almost all of the thrill that Exile needed to achieve his climax, one that he was fighting desperately as his claws dug into the sides of the lion, ruffling up his fur and leaving deep, painful marks of scarlet along the flesh underneath. "D-does it hurt?" he asked, his voice dripping with fake concern. With just a glance around the side of the blue feline, he could see the once impressive manhood of the lion straining against the cage that once contained Exile himself, and he delighted in just how much Albaz was whining from it, even with the sedatives keeping him from fighting back. It was clear that the lion was starting to get some proper feeling back in his appendages, but it was nothing that Exile had to be concerned about; his strength was plenty more than enough to keep Albaz pinned, and if the lion were foolish enough to try and struggle free, Exile would happily tie him down.

I'd rather save that for another time, if I could, Exile thought. He didn't want this to be the only example of his revenge. He was enjoying himself far too much for this to be the only encounter. Pleasure was radiating up from his crotch, spreading across his hips and his abdomen as his cock explored as deeply into Albaz as it could, filling the lion's tailhole entirely with each hard, long pass. Ramming, pounding thrusts kept the blue lion from ever finding a semblance of balance, and he whimpered against his underwear gag as he felt the very tip of Exile's cock tickling against the back edge of his prostate.

In a slightly different situation, it might have actually been fun for Albaz.

As it stood, it was a painful, brutal reminder that all of his actions could eventually have consequences.

"F-fuck...that's it, you little lion bitch, squeeze my cock...y-yes...squeeze out all of that cum, you little slut!" Exile growled out, the sounds rumbling from the back of his throat with such an authority that even the normally dominant Albaz couldn't help but hold still as Exile used him as a living sex toy. His body was turned into nothing more than a vessel for Exile's climax, and already, his inner walls were soaked with the bulk of precum that had been dying to escape, after over two months of build up.

Exile knew that there would be more than enough seed to go around, and Albaz was his garden. He just had to decide where to spread it.

Deep, tired blue eyes went wide as Albaz felt a strange heat running up from the base of his spine. His asshole was already stretched from the harsh, merciless pounding that Exile had given it, but the new sensation was obvious when he stopped to think about it. Wet, heated and plentiful, Exile threw his head back in delight as his cum, built up for over 60 days, finally sprayed out inside of Albaz, the very man who was responsible for such a load being there in the first place. His innards were soaked in an instant, and Exile panted with delight as an orgasm that was equal parts delight and relief wracked his body. His muscles trembled, and a grin was painted across his face as the hybrid continued pumping his hips, making a terrible mess with the plentiful ejaculate that he had to offer. Errant, rickety thrusts spilled cum down the back of Albaz's thighs, letting it trickle into the carpet until Exile finally had the wherewithal to stand up on shaky, trembling paws and angle his cock downward.

"G-gotta mark my territory! Nnngh!" He groaned with ecstasy, wincing one eye shut as his length pulsed yet again, having plenty of cum left to offer. Streaks of the white, slick juice spilled across Albaz with simply impressive force and volume, leaving marks all the way up to the back of his neck and the base of his mane as Exile emptied literally all of his liquid frustrations onto the lion, bathing him in the fruits of his own twisted labor.

A panting, exhausted, and terribly relieved hybrid was barely able to keep his footing as the blood slowly moved back into the rest of his body, and his drained member began to go soft, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in literal months. Even with the contractions passed, Exile could see drops of spare seed dripping down to make a mess of Albaz, leaving the blue lion a mixture of indigo and cream from the mess in his fur.

Exile could have been gracious and merciful in his victory, but since he was never shown such mercy, he played it straight and left Albaz in his own mess as the hybrid began to dress himself. "I guess that makes us even now...though I might change my mind about that later," Exile admitted. He pulled his pants back on slowly, not bothering with the saliva-stained underwear that were still stuffed in Albaz's muzzle.

Albaz was panting quietly through that same gag. He was barely able to process the whole of what had happened to him, but the slowly cooling mess on his back, and the same mess dripping out of his stretched, abused tailhole was all of the evidence that he needed to accept that it was reality.

"Have a nice two months," Exile murmured, as he pulled on his shirt, and a jacket over it to combat the cool air of early winter. He stepped around to the front of the blue lion and loomed over his face, before taking the small, weak key for the chastity cage...and breaking it into two pieces, which he dropped on the floor. "And keep the underwear."