FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

This is a direct sequel to Why Rent When You Can Own! Fair warning, don't read this without that first!

I'll let this stay in the main section for a week or so, and then I'll move both into a new folder to keep things organized.

Jumped this one in my queue a bit. Had a bunch of ideas I liked and got excited about writing them. The funny thing is half of them aren't even in this. I had intended it to have two additional scenes, but I wound up hitting around 12k words and cut it off. So don't worry, there will most assuredly by a continuation after this one too, haha. Really looking forward to the next scene in particular too.

As always, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Proofread by SkyWing

Standard boiler plate: This is fantasy, not real. Simple rule of thumb, do not do things to people without their consent in real life. That is bad. No more to say there than that.

______________________

A loud clicking and whooshing of air woke Joey from his slumber. He opened his eyes, a mix of dread and rage flooding his senses, realizing it was the air-conditioner kicking on again. The air-conditioner of his prison. His prison. He was still trapped in that - admittedly - nicely-furnished room. It hadn't all just been some fucked up nightmare; his ass was still shaved and stinging like it had a bad sunburn, some fucking fist-sized chunk of rubber was stuffed in his tailhole, his tail was chained to the back of his head, and, presumably, the two psychos that kidnapped him were lurking about somewhere close.

Perhaps worst of all, his partially-erect cock was throbbing along to his pulse inside that fucking cage, constricted and curved downward, pinned between his balls. The last thing he needed was to be kept painfully horny on top of bored and terrified.

He had no idea how much time had gone by since he had last been left alone in the relative silence, fighting to gain some degree of freedom, the constant stress and droning dullness eventually causing him to pass out again. There weren't any clocks. There certainly weren't any windows. All illumination came from the bright, grating, recessed fluorescent light panels in the ceiling that his tormentors had left on for him. Or to spite him.

Attempting to stand, he swore under his breath. The jingling of his handcuffs reminded him that his arms were still bound together behind his back. To his dismay, he hadn't made enough progress worrying the thin metal links to the point of breaking. Yet. He didn't know how long it'd take to accomplish that feat, or if it was even possible, or where he would go from there if he ever succeeded, but he didn't exactly have anything better to do. Shaking off the last of his grogginess, he got back to his task, repeatedly working the cuffs back and forth.

Several minutes passed by, Joey's squirming and struggling creating a chorus of jingling chains and determined grunting, up until the resounding metallic clang of the room's lock rang out. He went completely still, grumbling, halting all movement out of fear of what his captors might do if they caught him trying to escape. Watching the door, he simply glared at the wolverine and hyena swinging it wide open and strolling inside.

"Good news Joey," Eric said, smiling politely, "we've got a special dinner planned for you tonight." Picking the horse up by one armpit, Kevin taking the other, they pulled him upright, standing him shakily on his hooves. "Come on, let's get you fed!" he cheerfully added, gesturing for him to follow as they walked out the open door.

"Please..." Joey began to say, intending to beg for his freedom, stopping himself when he remembered begging only seemed to get the fuckers off. No, he needed to play along for now and avoid any unnecessary confrontations. And the mention of food to make his stomach emit an audible growl. Lowering his head, he followed the wolverine out of the room without protest, the hostilely grinning hyena bringing up the rear. He whined as he took his first uneasy steps, walking for the first time with his bunched-up junk throbbing in the air, snugly imprisoned between his balls, encased within the intricate wire cage locking it all away between his legs. The slight taps of his needy flesh against his thighs as he walked was a form of torture unto itself. Not that the inflatable plug filling his ass, prodding against his prostate, was making any of it any easier.

Breathing deeply, he began taking mental notes of his surroundings, both get some kind of an idea of where he was being held, as well as to focus his mind on anything aside from the persistent throbbing between his legs. The entrance and exit to his room led to a short, dimly lit hallway, the still-open door of which looked like something that'd be more appropriate guarding a bank vault, made entirely of solid metal with a locking wheel at the center. Breaking out through that thing wasn't a likely option.

Rounding a pair of corners through the winding hallway, they entered what appeared to be a living room. Despite being slightly cluttered, the room looked fairly typical for a suburban household, containing couches, chairs, a coffee table, an end-table, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, a couple of bookshelves, and... and an admittedly impressive entertainment system.

Despite how mundane and seemingly normal this part of the house was, Joey couldn't forget that there was still a dedicated prison cell a short walk away. If it weren't for that fact, he might have been excited to see all those video games lining the shelves. Before Joey could try to take a closer look, the wolverine directed him to a thick, woolen mat by the end-table.

"Go ahead and wait there while we get your dinner ready," Eric said, turning the television on, changing the channel to some cartoon or another. "Enjoy yourself and behave for a few minutes." When he saw the horse tentatively eyeing the mat, he added, "Feel free to kneel. I imagine your butt'll be sore for quite a while yet."

Shooting the wolverine a somewhat subdued, though obviously annoyed glare, Joey obeyed. He huffed, dropping heavily to his knees, making sure to sit upright to keep his bandaged ass-cheeks off of his legs. Glaring silently at his captors, he watched as they walked side-by-side out another doorway, presumably to retrieve whatever slop of oatmeal they were willing to describe as a 'special dinner.'

And they left him completely alone.

Glancing from doorway to doorway, his mind raced, wondering which might lead to an exit, frantically plotting the best route for an escape. He immediately quashed any thoughts of running. Between the cage and his handcuffs, he wasn't going to get far by hoof.

Suddenly, his eyes were drawn toward the end table off to his side. Specifically, to the land-line phone sitting there in its charger. His face lit up, the idiots just left him sitting next to a perfect escape route! Now, if only his arms weren't cuffed...

As quietly as he could, he mouthed the phone, picking it up and placing it on the table. Using his tongue, he punched the button to make a call, following it with 9...1...1. Each chirping button filled him with hope, making him joyfully bounce upon his knees as it began to ring.

And then, from the next room, he could hear a matching series of rings, up until, with a click, his call was answered.

"Yeah, Joey? Did you need something?" the hyena's voice ominously growled out from the receiver.

Joey froze, mouth agape, all hope shattered before his very eyes. Moments later, his captors reappeared in the doorway, the wolverine holding a large salad bowl, the hyena holding his phone to his ear.

"Sorry to disappoint, but without a special code, the land line only redirects to my phone," Kevin said, wearing a victorious grin as he made a show of hanging up on the call.

"I honestly thought he was going to pass the test," Eric sighed. "Alright, you win the bet, then, Kevin. Get into position."

Never losing his smile, the muscular hyena dropped his pants and boxers, kicked them away, then knelt on the floor, massaging his sheath.

Placing the salad bowl on the floor between the hyena's legs, Eric knelt behind him, resting his chin on the spotted, brown-furred shoulder. He reached forward, weaving his fingers alongside his mate's, joining him in massaging the fat sheath sitting between his thighs, helping him coax the hidden flesh out. "Well, anyway, since you failed our test, instead of house salad dressing, you'll have to settle for Kevin's personal blend." Letting go of the hyena's hand, he grasped the swelling hyena cock in his fist, helping it grow with several firm pumps.

"Also," the mildly panting hyena said, "I'm not sure how you chose to tap the keys of that phone, but I thought you should know that I vigorously rubbed the whole thing along my balls and taint about an hour ago. So, enjoy."

"What the fuck!" Joey shouted.

"Seriously!" Eric shouted as well, equally annoyed. Sighing with exasperation, he pumped his fist more vigorously along the length of his husband's meat. "Dude! What if somebody needs to use that phone!"

The hyena snickered. "Oh, like whom? When's the last time someone actually used the land line?"

"I use it for work sometimes."

"And you love my balls. What's the problem?"

"...Alright, fine, point taken. Just don't get into the habit of rubbing our stuff all-"

"FUCK THIS!" Joey screamed, having finally reached the limit of his willingness to play along with the two psychopaths. He leaped to his hooves, best as he could without using his arms, and bolted for the nearest door. Or he would have if the hyena hadn't tapped a button on his phone, triggering his electrified collar to spark to life with a loud crackle, sending him belly-down onto the floor, his whole body writhing and twitching.

"Good idea getting that app," Kevin said, planting a kiss on his husband's cheek.

Happily smiling, Eric clutched the hyena's chest and focused on jerking him off, keeping a steady rhythm while gradually building up speed. Before long, he felt his partner tensing up, wagging his tail, showing the telltale signs of an approaching climax. Just as he brought him to the edge, he leaned forward, kissing him full on the lips while ratcheting the hand-job up to a blurred speed. Making sure the tip was aimed down into the bowl, he gave the hyena's nipple a rough tweak, pushing him right over his peak.

Wildly bucking his hips, Kevin grunted as he shot multiple thick strands of cum straight into the bowl, liberally decorating the leafy greens. Breaking the loving kiss, he threw his head back, letting out a resounding cackle. His heart was racing, absolutely enamored of the tight grip still massaging his sensitive length, not letting go until every drop of cream had been milked.

Releasing his hold on the spent cock, Eric checked at his hand, seeing a stray glob of cum splattered across his fingertips. Standing up, letting the hyena collapse onto his back to bask in the warmth of his release, and walked over to retrieve their toy. He wiped his hand off on the groaning horse's nose, between his nostrils, then grabbed the scruff of his neck, dragging him back to his mat and dropping him back onto his knees.

The sting of his bandaged rump hitting his hooves snapped Joey out of his daze, just in time to see the salad bowl being held a few inches in front of his face.

"How'd you like to eat?" the wolverine asked, "would you prefer to be hand-fed, or would you rather do a trough sorta thing and eat straight from the bowl?"

"The fuck are you talking about?" Joey replied, sneering. "That's the fucking line, you can't seriously expect me to eat something he just fucking jizzed in."

"Oh, I think we can. You have to eat, and we DO own you, remember? The only choice you have here comes from whether or not you obey, you'll figure that out sooner or later." Haughtily scoffing at the horse, Eric used a fork to spear a piece of lettuce and a pair or carrot slices with the largest splatters of hyena cum, and lifted them to the horse's mouth.

Saying nothing more, Joey kept his muzzle shut tight, rapidly turning his head from side to side to avoid the unwelcome meal, dodging around the fork with his muzzle held high.

After three one-handed attempts to get their toy to eat, Eric lowered his fork and growled. "Hey, Kevin, you mind getting off your ass and helping me here? Joey's being a bit of a bitch."

"Can't do anything yourself, can you?" Kevin grumbled, eventually rolling over and crawling onto his knees. Shuffling over, he grabbed hold of the base of the horse's jaw between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing until the long muzzle popped open. The instant he had his opening, Eric shoved the forkful of cummy vegetables inside, scraping them off along his teeth as he pulled out, depositing everything onto his tongue. Before the horse had a chance to spit it all back out, Kevin joined in, using both hands to clamp his muzzle shut.

In an indignant fury, Joey whipped his head back and forth. Or, rather, that's what he wanted to do. As hard as he fought, he did little to affect the hyena's iron grip on his head. He kept on struggling, determined to get rid of the salty, slightly bleachy taste overriding the vegetables, making him sick to his stomach. It was bad enough that all he could smell was the musky glob of drying seed smearing between his nostrils, he didn't want to have to taste that shit too. His only option, regrettable though it was, was to chew and swallow as quickly as possible, sucking everything down in a single painful gulp, running his tongue along the walls of his cheeks to wipe it off, best as he was able. Moments later, as soon as the hyena's hands left his muzzle, he took in a loud, gasping breath of air, gagging slightly at the lingering, sickening taste left behind.

"See?" Eric said, smiling as he speared some more of the salad, "It was pretty good, right? He's got-" He was startled into silence when the furious horse suddenly lunged forward, giving the hyena a split second to yank his hand back, narrowly avoid the teeth snapping shut less than an inch from his fingers.

Kevin snarled, reflexively backhanding the horse's muzzle, sending him crashing to the floor. He raised his hand to give him another strike when the wolverine grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Calm down, Kevin, it's alright," Eric said, gently stroking his husband's mane. "Remember he's untrained, off the street, there's bound to be a few speed bumps on the way. He didn't hurt you, that's the important thing."

Though a low, rumbling growl was still issuing forth from Kevin throat, he nodded, lowering his hand. "You're right," he mumbled, nuzzling his mate's cheek.

"Okay, good. That said, he nearly bit your finger off, so he'll have to be punished again."

Joey, who had initially looked relieved at the wolverine's intervention, was now panicking. "No! No more of this bullshit! Let me fucking go you fucking-" he shouted, cut off when the hyena grabbed the base of his muzzle again, holding him still with a firmer, bordering on painful grip.

Before the horse could struggle to shake his captors off, Eric produced a large metal ring with leather straps from his pocket. Not bothering to be gentle, he crammed the ring in the forcibly opened muzzle, and with some assistance from his husband, used the straps to pull it in the rest of the way. Once in place, he fastened the clip and tightened the straps, holding it fast, keeping their toy's big mouth incapable of talking back for the time being. "Well, I guess he'll be going hungry tonight," he said, sighing as he looked at the salad bowl.

"Not necessarily. I think the problem might be that we're an acquired taste. We need to help him acquire it. I'm pretty spent, but you can give him a personal feeding."

"You know what? I think I will!" Eric flashed a toothy grin, his mood instantly improving. At the same time, the horse could only shake his head, vainly raising his lip in a snarl despite his gag rendering his teeth useless as a weapon. Rising to his feet, Eric let his shorts drop to the floor, freeing his semi-erect shaft. Grabbing a fistful of the horse's black-furred mane, he rammed the musky, increasingly turgid length through the ring, right down his throat.

Joey gave a gurgled, gagging cry of pain. His muzzle not long enough to accommodate the entire shaft all at once, he craning his head back to lessen the pressure against the back of his throat. Had his arms been free, he would have shoved his assailant away, or fought back at all, but as things were he was helpless to stop him. Visibly sickened by his first taste of cock, he used his tongue to push against the sweaty, musky length. Try as he might to shove it out of his mouth, he failed to accomplish anything aside from unintentionally stimulating the moaning wolverine.

"Mmmm, now this is eminently transcendent," Eric said, grinding the horse's nose against his pubic fur, making sure to inundate him with his scent.

"Eminent... right," Kevin replied, rolling his eyes.

Barely able to breathe with his nostrils immersed in a thicket of powerfully-scented crotch fur, Joey thrashed as much as the tight grip on his mane would allow. Much to his chagrin, the pungent masculine aroma alongside the constant, firm pressure against his prostate was beginning to have an effect on his mind. Despite his own wishes, and the fact that the whole scenario was profoundly unsexy to him, his head was swimming as the throbbing in his cage was getting infinitely worse. He was almost relieved when the wolverine pulled out, giving him a split second to gasp in a breath of fresh air before thrusting back in, jabbing the back of his throat, then proceeding to fuck his muzzle with a brutal ferocity.

Falling forward, Eric braced himself against the wall as he pounded the horse's face, hammering his nose, sending messy flecks of spittle in every direction each time he bottomed out. He said nothing, only grunting as he moved his hips in time with the horse's choking gulps. Growing faster with every second, those grunts merged into one extended, rumbling moan, up until he brought himself to his eventual, powerful finish. He clenched his butt, slamming in up to his root one final time, injecting a fat load of cum directly down the horse's throat.

Waiting a moment for his climax to fade, holding the squirming horse fast against his crotch, he let out a satisfied sigh. He let go of the tousled, knotted mane, collapsing chest-first against the wall, his shrinking cock still embedded in the thoroughly-tenderized muzzle.

Using what little movement he was allowed, Joey leaned back, wincing at the stinging pain of his rear hitting his legs again. That small pain was worth freeing his mouth, putting as much distance as he could between himself and the wolverine's damned prick. He coughed a messy glob of jizz through the gag, onto his chest as he stared despondently at the woolen mat between his knees, catching his breath and recovering.

"Not bad at all," Eric said, shoving himself upright off the wall, stumbling a bit before finding his footing. "A lot more practice and he'll be a natural cocksucker, I'd say."

"And I imagine it'll only get better once we can stop using the gag."

"Give it time, no need to rush things and risk dick-nibbles."

"Obviously." Kevin said, huffing, exasperatedly rolling his eyes again. "I'm saying in the future, however long it takes, it'll be nice to not need it, right?"

"I concur, yes!" Eric agreed, enthusiastically nodding. "But for now, don't look a gift horse in the mouth!"

Clapping both hands over his face, Kevin groaned. "Holy fuck, how long have you been waiting for an excuse to break that one out?"

"Not long. Maybe a couple of days."

"We've only had him for a couple of days."

"Exactly!"

"Idiot." Climbing upright against the wall, Kevin playfully slugged his husband's arm. "Come on, I have work tomorrow, time to get him back to his room and go to bed."

"Fine by me," Eric agreed, giving the hyena a quick peck on the cheek. Grabbing a hold of one of the horse's armpits, the hyena taking the other, they dragged him back to his room, his hooves scraping against the carpet, leaving slightly darkened furrows the whole way back.

Too tired to fight back any further, Joey hung limply in their arms, just happy for the obstruction in his maw to be gone. He weakly coughed, sending a small trail of spittle running down his chin. The pulsing throb of his cage was mercifully lessening as he was hefted back into his prison, being the one small grace he was offered.

Approaching a couch, Eric and Kevin gently lifted their toy, resting him on the plastic-covered cushions so that his side was facing its back. They locked a chain from his collar to an anchor on the wall, leashing him in place while giving him a few feet of slack to move about. Once that was secured, they removed his gag and handcuffs, and tailcuff, offering him a relative degree of freedom. The most he had been offered since arriving.

The instant his wrists were released, Joey brought his arms forward, groaning quietly as he squirmed on the couch, working his sore, stiff arm muscles. With the gag gone, he wanted to say something, anything, to tell the bastards off, but he fully realized that it would get him nothing but frustration and pain. He needed to play their game, loathsome as it was. Closing his eyes, he waited for them to leave so he could get back to work, this time figuring out how to tear the anchor out of the wall.

Giving the horse a caring pat on the shoulder, Eric leaned down, and after grabbing the inflatable plug's bulb, he gave it a single squeeze.

Totally taken by surprise, Joey's eyes flew back open. "FUCK!" he screamed, biting his tongue before saying anything more. He had almost forgotten the massive obstruction was still there, stuffed up his backside, absolutely hating the fact that he was getting used to its presence. Briefly shooting a withering glance over his shoulder at his smirking captors, he grumbled and closed his eyes again. As soon as the throbbing of his pent-up cock had finally reached a tolerable level, the fuckers had to go and make the plug even thicker, starting his problem all over again. He listened as his self-proclaimed owners bid him a good night, turned off the lights, leaving him in total darkness, and walked out the door, as always locking it behind them.

Once more left to his own devices, he first tugged on his butt-plug, unable to remove the overly inflated base from his clenching donut. He reached lower, running his hand along the tube to the rounded rubber bulb, feeling about for the release valve, quickly finding it at the bottom. To his dismay, the valve was controlled by a some sort of a magnetic lock, meaning he was going to be stuck with it for another night. Out of frustration, he smashed his fist down on the lock, accidentally hitting the center of the bulb, screaming as the plug sharply inflated to be even thicker.

Mercifully, that pain subsided quickly, only to be replaced by full-on, cruelly denied horniness. Dropping his interest in the plug lest he give the bulb another unintentional pump, he switched his attention to his cock. He repeatedly tugged on his cage, gradually realizing that, like the plug, it wasn't coming off without causing him an unreasonable amount of pain, likely some physical damage to boot. Pointlessly rubbing his needy cock-flesh through the constricting metal bars, he growled, wishing for nothing more than some much deserved release.

After minutes, perhaps hours of making his painfully trapped cock experience even more pain, he gave up any hope of release for the evening. Giving in to a violent, ultimately futile tantrum, he pulled - over and over again - on the chain lashing him to the wall, and unable to make any visible progress, eventually fell back to sleep.

______________________

In the days that followed, things quickly settled into something of a standard routine.

While Kevin headed off to work in the morning, Eric stuck around to take care of their toy. He showed Joey to his very own personal bathroom, a simple, partially-hidden alcove in his room, recessed behind a curtain, containing a basic bathtub, shower, and toilet. After deflating and removing the plug, he left to clean and re-lube it, letting him go about his business alone. Once he returned, he peeled off the horse's old ass-bandages, washed him head-to-hoof in the shower, dried him off, and finished by replacing the bandages and plug.

Eric was more than pleased that, despite the equine's initially rocky adjustment period, he was already choosing to obey. Clearly reluctantly, but obeying nonetheless. Not having to be on guard, ready to fend off attacks at any given moment was an especially nice benefit.

As a reward for said obedience, as promised, day by day he steadily improved the quality of the horse's meals, eventually granting him the option to request anything he wanted. Within reason, of course. He also stopped bothering to chain him back to the wall, letting him wander his room at will.

The mid-days alternated between awkward, nerve-wracking silence while the wolverine sat in the room with him, reading a plethora of books, or blindingly dull when the wolverine was called out to some job or another, leaving him alone to work on his escape. As much as he hated his captors, he certainly appreciated it when the first couple of days of good behavior got him a television of his own. It was unfortunately an ancient CRT with clicky knobs, but he wasn't about to complain.

In the evenings, once Kevin got home from work, he would join them in the room, bringing in dinner, usually sitting down with Eric to talk about their day while their toy stayed in the corner, either staring at the wall or watching the grainy television, doing what he could to stay off their radar. Sometimes he would bring in a board or card game to play with his husband, the both of them frequently arguing over the minutiae of rules, fighting, sometimes physically, and making up with a sloppy makeout session.

Joey was totally confused when they invited him to play, picturing himself tearing their throats out as he politely declined. If anything, he was terrified that - which each passing day - he was growing to accept it all, perhaps just increasingly numb to his new life. In many ways, it was an improvement over his last few years, living on the street, occasionally mooching a room off what few friends he had made until inevitably getting thrown out. The stability and routine was almost welcome.

But then, every night helped to reignite that spark of defiance, when the wolverine and hyena slapped the ring-gag back in his mouth, taking turns fucking his face before depositing their loads into his gullet. Sometimes, they would pull out, giving him a facial, decorating his face or aiming their cum directly onto his tongue, forcing him to taste it. One night, Max, the lion, dropped by, getting a turn fucking his face while Eric and Kevin took turns fucking him. And once they were all satisfied, they would leave to go to bed, but not before giving his plug an extra pump or two, making him cry out as his tailhole was stretched ever wider.

As much as he hated that treatment, he was in a way thankful, as it kept him from genuinely giving up. Left on his own, he'd explore every inch of the room, looking for anything he could use to get out. He had yet to find anything promising, everything from the vents to the toilet being welded, reinforced, and unmoveable, even after gradually working to unscrew everything that would budge. Still, he wasn't going to give up, if only to avoid the feel of balls slapping against his chin alongside the taste of another disgusting cock.

Through it all, at no point did the predicament facing his own maleness cease itching at the back of his mind. A part of him wondered how long he'd have to keep playing their game in order to get some relief, more-so worried that they were lying and never intended to let him out.

At the total least, over time, he was grateful that his cheeks were healing and the bare patches on his ass were already filling with newly grown tan fur, even if it was something of a mixed blessing. As the lion had promised, the fur growing through the tattooed areas was dyed black with the initials of his captors, declaring to all observers that his ass belonged to them. Though the itchiness of the healing process and regrowing fur was almost worse than his forcefully pent-up libido, adding to his frustration, it was worth it to be able to sit and lie on his back again.

After a little over a week passed with them never breaking that same basic routine, Eric decided the horse's tattoos had healed well enough that he no longer needed his bandages, leaving the round, stubbly-furred ass exposed for good. That night, over dinner, right in front of their toy, he and Kevin discussed whether or not his tailhole was ready to handle the both of them yet. Since he was off for the weekend, Kevin proposed they spend the next day finding out, a suggestion to which Eric eagerly agreed.

Needless to say, after Joey's throat received its usual fuckings, getting fed his twin doses of predator cum, and he was left alone for the night, he redoubled his efforts to escape. Unable to budge the bolts on the vent, he gave up, charging the door with his shoulder, doing little more than receiving a large bruise. He went to sleep huddled against the couch, absolutely dreading what was to come.

The next day went by largely as normal, up until they finished their lunch. As their toy nervously retreated to his corner with the television, Eric and Kevin began to disrobe each other, getting ready to test their horse's capacity. Just as he was about to lower the hyena's boxers, Eric stopped when he received a call. Checking his phone, he mumbled, "It's the boss," before answering it. He did little more that nod along, verbally agreeing to whatever the voice at the other end said until finally hanging up.

"What was that about?" Kevin asked.

"Uh, well, the boss wants to see us, that's about all he said," Eric replied, scratching the back of his head. "He also said to bring Joey, since it concerns him."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Dunno. You know Vincent, he's kinda hard to read. We should go, don't want to keep him waiting."

Watching as the couple suddenly dropped everything and went zipping about the room, Joey wasn't sure what to think. He was thankful that they appeared to be getting dressed, wondering if their frightened actions meant maybe rescue was on its way.

Once again, he was disappointed when, after his captors finished with their clothes, they rushed over to him with his bridle, stuffing the bit gag in his mouth, locking it on without the blinders, cuffing his hands behind his back, and finally locking a leash to his collar. Before he could react, they were dragging him out the door, through the house, and to his utter bewilderment, out the front door.

His heart raced, thinking that surely someone would see a naked slave being marched down the street with a pair of bastard slavers pulling him along and be concerned. Any minute now, someone would be calling the cops, and this whole nightmare would be over.

But then, as house after house passed by, Joey lost count of all the people he saw relaxing or working in their yards, with not a one reacting to his appearance in the least. Not to his bindings, not to his plug, which by then felt like he was carrying a football between his cheeks, not to the metal-decked, tortured horsemeat bobbing between his legs, not to his shaved, marked ass. Nothing. If anything, they were showering his captors with compliments on their new pet.

As Joey soon realized, back on their first day, his captors weren't lying. This was an entire gated community, males and females of a variety of species, a lovely neighborhood populated entirely by terrifyingly insane fuckers, criminals, slavers just like them. He flinched as a kangaroo jogged by, briefly stopping to chat, not remotely bothering to hide the way he was leering at his bare body.

With an enthusiastic clap, the kangaroo congratulated Eric and Kevin on their good fortune. Bidding them farewell, he reached down, giving the horse's caged genitals a firm squeeze. Giggling at the ensuing muted squeal of pain, he hopped away, resuming his jog.

Joey couldn't believe he was wishing they had attached his blinders, utterly mortified at the legion of bastards leering at his forced nudity. It was one thing to know they were looking, it was an entirely different thing to see them licking their lips, scrutinizing him as if he was a piece of meat. Mercifully, their walk didn't last too much longer, ending at a cul-de-sac featuring a small, lone mansion. He rushed up to the front door, pressing himself into an alcove, using what little space was available to hide.

Despite their apparent unease as they approached the sprawling residence and rang the doorbell, Eric and Kevin snickered to each other, watching their horse desperately seeking any degree of modesty. A series of heavy hoofbeats sounded out from inside the mansion, promptly followed by the door opening as a massive bull silently beckoned them inside.

In his mad rush to get through the door, Joey smacked directly into the bull's bare, dark-brown-furred chest, and was knocked back several steps as if he had run face-first into a brick wall. Stunned, he stopped to shake his head, taking a moment to recover his senses as he got a better look up at their supposed host.

The bull was big, even by bull standards, possessing both the hyena's height and the wolverine's broad chest and musculature, all rolled into a single hulking creature. Despite his powerfully masculine build, he was clearly in the same kind of predicament as Joey, wearing nothing but a small bow-tie, a solid silver chastity cage with a similar bow-tie sitting at the base, a black collar, and a latex muzzle held shut by a zipper around the mouth. The black latex covered most of his face, only his nose the heavy gold ring piercing it showing through. His horns were dulled and rounded, and his eyes were baggy and tired.

Stepping aside to let them all in, he gestured for them to follow, speedily guiding them to an open door at the end of the hallway. Walking straight through the door, they entered into an opulent, immaculately clean office with bright, sky-blue walls and an vibrant, ocean-blue carpet. At the center of the office sat an ornate wooden desk, where an otter was rapidly typing away at a computer.

Though he was sitting, it was clearly obvious that the otter was extremely tall. He was also quite thin, having the epitome of a lithe swimmer's build. His fur had a golden sheen, with a creamier color starting at the chin and running down his throat. He was wearing a neatly pressed black suit, a white undershirt, and a red tie, as well as a pair of black, thick-rimmed, glasses with rectangular lenses. His short, black headfur was swept back, no less shiny than the rest of his fur. Raised upright behind him through his office chair, a thick, muscular tail idly swayed back and forth as he worked. He didn't notice he had company until the bull walked up to his desk and crawled underneath.

Joey couldn't see what the bull did next, though after the sound of a zipper rang out, a brief look of pleasure washed over the otter's face. Glancing over to the door, seeing his guests had arrived, the otter flashed a polite smile.

"Hello... sir," Eric said, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, indeed I did. Please, take a seat." The otter glanced specifically at the bound horse. "All of you." The wolverine and hyena promptly complied, dragging the horse over as well, forcing him down, sitting directly atop his plug, before sitting down themselves. Ignoring the ensuing pained moan, the otter said, "First off, I asked you to just call me Vincent, did I not? Yes? Good." Not bothering to wait for an actual response, he jumped right into his business. "Now, if you'll recall, regarding your new toy, the only reason I signed off on his acquisition is because you gave me every assurance - YOUR VERY WORD, in fact - that you tied up all the loose ends."

Eric blinked multiple times, stunned by the otter's neutral, yet no less withering stare. "I, um, I did, Vincent. Unequivocally so. I went through each and every one of his contacts and there was not a one he hadn't heretofore alienated! No family and no friends."

"No friends. Yes. So if that is true, then can you tell me why a doberman has been frequenting police stations, making noise about his missing friend? Named Joey? WHO IS ALSO A HORSE!?!" Calming himself, the otter reclined slightly. "Seems like quite the coincidence, no?"

Joey's ears flew up the instant he heard the word 'doberman.' It was Jace! His best friend! It had to be! He had been crashing at the Jace's apartment for a while, and after the dog caught him stealing... for the fifth time... they had a falling out and he was kicked to the curb. But Jace was looking for him! He was going to save him! He hadn't been forgotten! All at once, Joey felt hope swelling that he might just get out of his predicament. Whatever it took, he was going to spend the rest of his life paying the dog back for every horrible thing he had done to him.

"Uh. Um. Hm..." the wolverine stammered. "I... checked that, I know I did!... Right! The last message the doberman sent was that he'd kill him if he ever saw him again. I didn't think-"

"No. You didn't. And he must be the forgiving sort, BECAUSE HERE HE IS MAKING NOISE ABOUT OUR BUSINESS!" The otter shot forward, giving a sharp twist to his flat-screen monitor, which showed a grainy surveillance video of a police station. In the video, a doberman was indeed shouting at an officer, the subtitles at the bottom showing that he was livid, inquiring about why they weren't searching for his friend. "You understand, Eric, that being a clandestine crime syndicate means that we don't like people talking about our business, yes? The reason we were able to take control of this city with footholds all over the rest of the world is by never suffering any leaks to form, no matter how inconsequential they might be."

"Yes, of course, Vincent."

"So you understand you need to go plug this leak. By which I mean kill him."

All at once, with that one statement, Joey's hopes were shattered all over again.

The wolverine blinked again. "Sir... Vincent... I'm in retrievals, I'm just muscle. A hunter, not a killer."

"Well, now you are both," the otter said, ominously tapping his desk. " He has a couple old DUIs, and even though he's sober now, you can just snap his neck, pour out some booze, and push his car into a ravine. Easy. Consider it your punishment for being sloppy, if that makes it any easier."

As the wolverine gave an obedient, if remorseful, nod, Joey finally chimed in. Shooting upright off his seat, he frantically shouted a stream of garbled gibberish through the bit of his bridle.

Smirking with amusement, Vincent glanced back at the wolverine. "Your pet seems to have a problem. Please, undo his gag. I'd like to hear was he has to say."

Nodding again, Eric stood up and removed the bridle.

"PLEASE DON'T HURT HIM!" Joey shrieked the instant he could speak. "He's the only friend I have left! I've done enough to him, already, I can't let him die because of me! I'll do anything you want! Please!"

The otter listened to his plea, tenting his fingers as the horse made his case. Once the rant was over, leaving the room in relative silence, aside from gentle, rhythmic sucking from under the desk, he cocked his head thoughtfully to the side. "An interesting offer," he said, tapping the index fingers of his webbed hands together, "except that we already own you. You have nothing further to offer us in exchange for his safety."

Joey fell back into his chair, not even caring that he landed on his plug again, just rocking back and forth as if he was going to be sick.

"That said," the otter added, "I have been considering getting myself a guard-dog-slash-slut-mutt. If you ask politely, I could be persuaded to have him taken in alive as a new member of our extended family."

Ceasing his rocking, Joey looked up the the otter, eyes growing wide as his words truly sunk in, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"You have five seconds to give me your decision. Five."

Did he really expect him to?... His mind was racing, faced with the single worst decision of his entire life.

"Four."

No, there was no way he could curse his only-

"Three."

-remaining friend to a life as some evil bastard's ass-slave-

"Two."

-buttherewasnowayhecouldlethisonlyfrienddiewhyisthishappeningfuckfuckfuck-

"One."

"Don't kill him!" Joey shouted, sending flecks of panicked spittle all across the desk. "Do... do whatever you need to, but don't kill him."

A malicious smirk crept across the otter's muzzle. "No, this is no time to be vague. Say exactly what you want to happen to your friend."

"I..." Joey bit his lip, shaking his head.

"Say it."

Giving a defeated whine, Joey said, "I... I want you to enslave my friend."

"And do what?"

"...Make him your... your slut... mutt..."

"Alright! Sounds acceptable to me. You both have your orders, now go fetch." Vincent gave a dismissive wave to the hyena and wolverine, whom had both been watching the interaction with nothing short of impressed, terrified respect for their boss. The horse, meanwhile, only hung his head in shame.

"Wait, me too?" Kevin asked.

"Yes. Your husband's mistake reflects on you, I see no reason you shouldn't help him fix it."

"Of course, thank you, Vincent." The hyena gave a short, nervous nod.

"He's a late-night regular at one of our gyms, and should be heading there right about now. You shouldn't have much trouble taking him, you know what to do," the otter said, handing over an info sheet on their target. "Just stage his car as I suggested earlier and I'll have our people in the police take care of the rest. And just so you know, you will both be in charge of his care until I can get him a dedicated trainer. Do what you want, but nothing permanent. Don't forget, he belongs to me." As the hyena and wolverine stood to leave, he stopped them, adding, "And just so you know, this little hiccup aside, my bosses and I have been exceptionally impressed with your work. The both of you. Get this cleaned up, and I'll make sure it doesn't count against you."

"Thank you!" they both exclaimed in unison, proud to get such a compliment.

"Oh, and leave your pet here. I believe I'd like to get to know him a little better. I'll make sure to drop him off at your home once we're finished."

"Of course, have fun, Vincent," Eric said, smiling as he tossed the leash to his boss. Grabbing hold of the hyena's hand, he pulled his husband out the door, running home to get their loose-end tied up.

"So, Joey," Vincent said once they were alone again, "how are you enjoying your accommodations thus far?

The despondent horse glared up at the otter, wanting nothing more than to fly into a rage and tell him exactly what he thought. Something about the grinning mustelid, however, warned him that it would be less than wise. Even though the otter's two employees looked like they could snap him like a twig, they were totally cowed by his mere presence. There had to be a reason for that. From what Joey had witnessed thus far, just going by his personality, he was absolutely on the terrifying side of things. And, he couldn't forget, he essentially just handed his only friend over to this psychopath.

"Well? I appreciate your interest in my body, but I asked you a question. Be honest, now."

"I... I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want to to tell me how you're enjoying things, I thought that was obvious."

"Okay. I fucking hate it. I'm not gay, and now I'm supposed to be a fucking dick-slave for those two fuckers? Torturing my dick and ass because it gets them off? This has been a nightmare from the start, and I want you all to die horribly. Happy?"

"Oh, very much so. I didn't really care about your opinion, I just wanted to hear you voice it. It's nice to see someone still so... spirited." The otter scooted his chair back, causing a slight sucking pop from under the desk. "Milky, stand at attention."

Crawling backwards, out from under the desk, the bull rose to his hooves, standing beside the horse with his chest puffed out. He quickly re-zipped his muzzle, sealing his mouth shut, and held his hands behind his back.

"Milky here used to be the leader of a gang that tried moving in on our territory. After crushing their little insurgence, we absorbed their members into, well, varying roles. In his case, he was crafted into a perfect servant, which, while his unquestioned obedience is nice, it can be a bit dull. But you? Yes, you still have that fire burning, and pardon the pun, I find that hot." He reclined fully in his chair, revealing he was wearing only the suit's top, going totally bottomless with his spit-soaked, ten inch erection standing out in the open. Kicking his webbed footpaws up on the desk, he crossed his ankles and wiggled his toes at the horse. "Milky, take care of the left."

Unzipping his muzzle again, the bull knelt off the side of the desk, taking hold of the otter's left ankle. He pulled it in close, immediately going to town, bathing the wrinkled sole and pads with a series of long, sloppy licks.

Stifling a laugh, Vincent looked back at the horse. "See? No challenge. Now, Joey, you may take the right."

"What?" Joey replied, his response only making the otter grin harder. Once more his mind was racing. The otter wanted him to be defiant? So fighting him just gives him what he wants. That meant the only way to fight back was to, what, lick his fucking foot willingly? Well, if he wanted defiance, he was going to get it. "Fuck off!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair and turning to run for the door, only to be stopped when it snapped shut with a resounding slam.

"Ah, there it is, marvelous," the otter moaned, taking his fingers off a button on his desk, then slowly running them along the length of his shaft. "But now, you really should get to it." He wiggled the toes of his right footpaw while the bull continued to slurp at the other.

"Like fucking hell I will. Open the door and let me out, I'm done."

"Mmm, very nice. Quite lovely. But I feel I should remind you that I can still call your owners and let them know you changed your mind about your friend's fate. The choice is yours. And do avoid teeth. If I feel a bite, I will tell them to make it hurt, yes?"

Trembling with hatred fading into despair, Joey gave in, dejectedly stepping back to the desk and kneeling beside the bull. He reluctantly opened his mouth, closing his eyes as he stretched out his tongue, wincing when it made contact with the the rough toe-pads. It was horrible, though if he was being honest, it was no more horrible than the parade of cocks he'd sucked over the past week. If he could handle that, he could handle this. He just needed to keep his mind on anything else, primarily on fantasies of escaping with Jace the second they were able.

"Come on now, you can do better than that. Use your whole tongue and slurp away like Milky, it isn't hard. Well, I am. You two aren't." Vincent had to stifle a snicker when the horse stopped to shoot him a hateful glare. Shoving the broad, equine nose with his splayed toes, he flashed back a malevolent grin, wordlessly commanding him to get going.

Closing his eyes, resigning himself to his task, Joey closed his eyes and fully extended his tongue, dragging it along the bottom of the relatively clean, though still strongly-scented footpaw. Reminding himself he was doing it to keep his friend alive made it just a little easier to force his sense of taste right out of his mind, nearly entering a trance as he matched the bull's pace, giving one long, slobbery lick after another.

When the otter threw his head back to let out a pleasured moan, still rubbing at his length, Joey did look over at the bull, attempting to convey a suggestion that they worked together, they could take out their tormentor. The bovine either didn't notice or didn't care, too absorbed by his task, slurping at his master's foot, occasionally pausing to suck on the webbed toes.

"Alright, excellent job, the both of you!" the otter shouted, suddenly yanking both of his moistened appendages away from his toys and leaping out of his chair. "And now that I've had my appetizer, I believe it's time for the main course. Milky, secure our friend. The usual way."

Before Joey could begin to process what was happening, he felt the bull's strong hands grab his shoulders and slam him down onto the floor, belly-up, back arched over his cuffed arms. Straddling the horse's body, the bull shuffled forward, upright on his knees, slapping his heavy, low-hanging testicles against Joey's nose as he passed over him. Abruptly realizing what the bull was about to do, Joey opened his mouth to scream, only to be muffled a taut, muscular posterior dropping atop his face. He quickly closed his mouth, though not before getting a vivid taste of the mercifully clean tailstar placed directly against his lips.

As much as he flailed about, wishing to avoid being forced to, essentially, make out with the bull's pucker, he was held fast by the powerful legs sandwiching his head. He couldn't even hold his mouth shut, as with the way Milky was gyrating his hips, the grind motions were pulling his lips up and down, forcing him, little by little, to get taste after unwelcome taste of his pungent rear. Purely as a panicked reaction, he kicked his own legs up and out, ultimately resulting in his ankles getting caught by the bull.

Pulling the equine hooves in close, Milky clutched them close to his chest, bending the horse nearly in half. Having gotten them both in position, he sat more heavily upon his companion's face, patiently waiting for his master's next command.

Vincent casually strolled out from behind his desk, his erection bobbing with every step, and approached the horse's presented rear. "'E' and 'K,' how adorable," he said, taking a moment to admire the tattooed ass-cheeks. Kneeling down in front of the vulnerable rear, he triggered the butt-plug's release valve, waited for it to deflate, then jerked it free from the loosened, mildly gaping donut.

Concerned with little else but finishing himself off, Vincent grabbed hold of the horse's knees, leaned forward, and buried his shaft most of the way into his ass with one thrust. Though he only had residual saliva as lube, it didn't seem to matter. Whether it was because of the process of stretching the horse had endured, or because he was just naturally stretchy - or most likely, a mix of the two - a coating of bull-spit was all the lubrication he required. Moaning with delight, he was pleased to find that despite its initial accommodating looseness, the hot, thick-rimmed hole was still tight enough to snugly grip along his length, quivering, clenching down to fight the intrusion.

"Mmm, oh yes, your ass is truly magnificent, in every possible way." Bottoming out with a couple more short thrusts, he shimmied his hips, grinding his thighs against the plump, curvy, barely-furred ass-cheeks. "You're even cushioned! Yes, my employees hit the lottery with you, didn't they?" He let go of one knee, reaching down to caress the horse's twitching cock and balls through the metal rings, making the flesh swell even harder in its prison. "And your little pecker, so very endearing!" Giving the trapped shaft a pinch between his claws, he let out another moan when the horse bucked his hips, squeezing down like a vice around his cock.

The instant Joey felt that pinch, on top of his renewed struggling, he reflexively opened his mouth to shout, resulting in getting his first full taste of the bull's anus. He accidentally shoved his tongue through the loose, puffy hole, bathing it with his hot breath before screwing his mouth shut once more, his mind full of nothing but profound disgust. Milky, meanwhile, belted out a joyous moo, jerking his hips, sending drops of pre-cum flying out of the tip of his cage, grinding his hole even harder against his fellow slave's face.

"Milky, you've forgotten something," the otter said, staring threateningly over at the bull, whose eyes went wide upon realizing his mistake, promptly rezipping his muzzle shut. "Very good. And now..." With an excruciating slowness, he drew his cock out of the horse's rear, fascinated by the sight of the dark-brown rim fluttering around his length. Once he had slipped out everything but his tip, he paused for a moment, then commenced brutally fucking the upturned ass. Repeatedly slamming his pubic bone into the horse's throbbing, caged junk, he filled the quiet room with nothing but grunts, moans, and the sound of thighs slapping against thighs.

Milky, in particular, was pleased they had finally gotten moving, as with his master's relentless thrusting, the horse was having difficulty keeping his mouth shut. Giving several additional muffled moos, he snorted through his uncovered nose, losing himself to the only pleasure he was allowed. He repeatedly slapped his rear against the horse's snout, occasionally getting tongued by accident, thoroughly enjoying the bursts of heated, moist breath between his cheeks.

While the otter was focused on picking up speed, pounding in even harder, Milky jerked his hips back, slapping his balls against the horse's chin, then atop his nose, finally dropping them down, onto his eyes. Deftly grabbing hold of both of his fellow slave's ankles with one arm, he reached his free hand down, forcing his leaky cage into the horse's mouth the very instant he next opened it to shout. With his metal-covered prick now stuffed in a nice, warm muzzle, he pumped his hips alongside his master, spit-roasting the horse between them.

Moving with a furious speed, Vincent didn't last much longer. Giving several slower, harder thrusts, he reached and explosive climax, pumping multiple strands of cum into the horse's rear each time he hilted himself back in. Once all was said and done and his flow abated, he sat back, pulling his messy shaft out of the equally messy hole, happily panting as he watched his cream leak out in a slow trickle. Looking over at the bull, his pleasant smile faded to a grimace, seeing that his pet was still wildly bucking his hips, pistoning his chaste member in and out of the horse's mouth.

"Milky," he said, his voice barely hiding a growl, "we discussed this already, did we not? That toy no longer belongs to you. It is not yours to play with."

The bull froze, realizing what he was doing. He leaped to his hooves, shouting a muffled explanation through his muzzle, his eyes begging for forgiveness.

"Yes, you always say that. But I think this time, you've earned yourself two hours on the milker for your insolence." Hearing those words, the bull went into a full panic, falling to his knees, shouting out more muffled pleas while the otter merely rolled his eyes. Lifting his arm, Vincent held his watch to his mouth, saying, "Boys, Milky earned himself some punishment, please come in and get him set up. Four hours."

Within seconds, a pair of tall, intimidating, lightly-muscled wolves stepped into the office, one gray, one red. Both wore black suit-tops with nothing below their waists, letting their plump sheaths and balls hang free. Saying nothing, they grabbed hold of the bull's arms and dragged him out, kicking and pleading.

Giving a sputtering cough, Joey slowly sat back up. Against his better judgment, he asked, "What're they going to do to him?"

"Oh, just a little bit of punishment I do whenever Milky misbehaves. Why? Would you like to see?"

"What? No, I-"

"Excellent! Come, come, I'll show you!" The otter gleefully hopped to his feet. After grabbing the horse's leash, he helped him up onto his hooves, pulling him out the door after them.

A short walk and several turns down a hallway later, they went down a staircase, arriving in what Joey could only describe as a medieval dungeon. Whips, chains, all kinds of restraints, torture... implements... everything he could possibly think of littered the cold, unfurnished room. Even the walls were simple gray cinder-blocks and the floor was just flat concrete. It made his own personal prison-room look like a paradise by comparison. And there, at the center of the room, the two wolves had just finished setting up the bull's punishment.

Milky had been strapped belly-down onto a sawhorse, each ankle and wrist cuffed to a different leg, giving him enough slack to move and squirm, but not enough to get up. His chastity cage and balls were hanging off the end of the sawhorse, while a hollow sounding rod had been inserted into his hidden urethra, leading down to a jar on the floor. A large machine sat behind him, featuring what appeared to be a patch-covered traffic cone affixed to a piston perched just outside his tailhole.

With the press of a button, the red wolf triggered the cone to spring forward, spearing Milky on its tapered, drastically widening length. The bull shook in place as his rim was stretched past what could be considered a reasonable limit, letting a resounding groan rumble through his sealed muzzle. Giving another button press, the red wolf brought the machine completely online. Smoothly, yet powerfully, it hummed to life and began to piston its cone in and out of the bull's ass, continuously stretching it open and briefly letting it shrink back down.

"Here's Milky's milker," the otter said, proudly sweeping an arm, showing off the whole set-up.

Staring on with horrified awe, Joey jumped when the machine suddenly slammed in hard, up to its base, shoving the bull forward. Instead of pulling back out, it held still as the sound of a buzzing crackle echoed throughout the dungeon. The bull's entire body seized up, tail flailing side-to-side, balls clenching, snorting wildly as he fired multiple fat strands of bull-cream through the sounding rod, down the tube, and into the jar. The machine briefly paused to cool-down before pulling back out, thrusting back in, starting the whole process over again.

"You may have noticed that Milky's cage lacks certain features, most notably a lock. It's an absolute bastard to clean, but I have people for that. It ensures that erections are no longer a possibility for him, and I've made it so being milked is really more of a punishment than it is a pleasure. On the plus side, once the milking is over, he gets to drink it all down. So, what do you think?"

"It's... it's fucking horrible," Joey said, visibly shaking.

"Yes, perhaps," the otter smirked, "but when someone gets the idea in their head to muscle in on your territory, you have to be brutal to send a message to other possible usurpers, yes?

Joey said nothing, glancing downward to avoid watching the bull's torture.

"I will say, you should be grateful you were taken in by Eric and Kevin. Quite soft-hearted, those two, not even making you see a trainer. They've even mentioned planning on letting you play with your little fellow there once you've earned it. Not my style, exactly, but I respect their wishes. They're free to use their toys however they like. Me, I prefer to play rough."

Remembering Jace, the friend he had essentially handed over to the crazed otter, Joey's eyes flew open.

"What are you going-"

"Yes, what am I going to do to your friend," Vincent interrupted. "That is, in fact, quite an interesting question, isn't it? Well, after our earlier exchange, I'm thinking that I will leave his fate entirely up to you."

Joey folded his ears back, dreading where the otter was surely heading.

"Watching you over the past week has been fascinating. Such defiance, such a fire burning inside you, reluctantly play along, yet never giving up hope. Night after night, when left alone, without fail, your search relentlessly for an escape. When you're not making another futile go at playing with yourself, that is."

"You've been... watching me?"

"Why yes, of course, there are cameras hidden all over your room. Why would there not be? Incidentally, you cut quite a lovely figure in the shower." Vincent glanced up and down the horse's bared body, grinning at the resulting humiliated blush. "But I digress. We were discussing Mr. Carmen's fate, yes? Looking over your old chats and browser history, your friendship seemed to be rather one-sided. In your time together, you stole from him constantly, taking advantage of his good nature for your own benefit. Even after he got fed up and tossed you out onto the street, he was still loyal enough to want to forgive you, going searching when you went missing. And that same loyalty is leading him directly into my loving care."

Under the otter's unblinking gaze, Joey could only shrink away, showing a palpable degree of deep regret.

"I'm sure you recall how you begged me to spare his life in exchange for 'doing anything I wanted,' yes? Well, I am now curious to see whether that was an idle offer you never intended to pay, a final parting shot from a selfish 'friend,' or if, despite your various abuses, you truly do care for him as he cares for you. In short, your friend has sacrificed so much. Are you willing to do the same? Can you snuff out that defiant fire of yours if it means keeping your friend safe? Or are you going to save your dignity at his expense?"

"...What do you mean?..."

Clasping his hands, the otter extended his thumbs and index fingers, folding the remaining digits together knuckle to knuckle. He tapped his nose, briefly lost in thought as he stroked his webs along his chin. "I'll keep it simple, as simple seems to be your forte," he said. "For as long as your friend is staying with you, your actions will determine how I treat him once he's in my hands. Tonight, when your masters come home, you will beg them to double-team your ass, officially welcoming you as part of their family. Whenever they invite you to a board game, you will instead request to blow them while they play, so they may grace you with their seed. When you're getting showered, you'll request one, or both of them to fuck you. Facing the shower head, preferably. If they have company, or take you on another walk, you will keep your tail lifted, begging everyone you see to fuck your slutty ass. When they inevitably decide to fuck your friend, you will crawl over to lick his paws as he gets taken. You will follow their every command to the letter, abandon hope of escape, and give yourself over to the cumslut you are meant to be. And, most importantly of all, if they offer to take off your cage, you will politely decline, explaining that you don't believe you've earned it yet. It will likely be two weeks before I'm able to get him a trainer, so if you follow my orders for that duration, I will treat your friend as a good little pampered pup, showering him with treats and release. Disappoint me, and I'll make sure he wishes he was Milky."

As if punctuating the otter's final threat, the machine slammed into the bull's backside again, filling the dungeon with another electric crackle, causing him to send more globs of cum flowing into the jar. Even if he was still totally disturbed by the act, Joey was at least grateful for the momentary distraction.

"Do you accept your challenge?" Vincent asked, snapping the horse back to reality.

Once again, Joey's mind was racing. It was a no-brainer right? If he just pretends to give in for two weeks, he'll save his friend... relatively... he'll still be a slave, but it's better than... He glanced at the bull. For Jace, his only remaining friend in the world, he could do it. Whatever it took, surrendering his dignity, willingly servicing a pair of psycho-rapists, then getting back to escaping. He could do it, he had to. Having to keep that cage on for two more weeks, though... it was already driving him insane with need... he'd jerked off every day for years, and the one time he dated that vixen they fucked constantly, maybe... NO! NO NO NO! He had always been a selfish prick, but how could he be THAT selfish? Even considering trading the ability to jerk off once-

"Well?" Vincent asked, tapping his foot against the cement, growing visibly impatient.

"...yes..." Joey replied, hanging his head low, refusing to make eye contact. He truly regretted what he had just promised to do, even if it meant helping Jace, particularly because he didn't know if he'd be able to last the full two weeks. And even worse, if after two weeks giving in, if he'd even still be... well... him.

"Wonderful, it's a deal! And I must add one final demand: Tell no one, including your friend, of our arrangement, or it is all void. I would much prefer to see my employees' reactions to your new, much improved attitude. Now that we have that little bit of business settled..." Rubbing at his sheath, the otter coaxed his messy cock back out, rapidly stroking it back to its full ten-inch length. "Watching Milky getting milked always gets me quite revved up, as it were. I hope you're ready for round two. Boys?"

At once, both wolves grabbed Joey's arms, roughly dragging him over to another sawhorse, just slightly under waist-height, and bent him, belly-down, over one side. He briefly kicked out, but a click of the otter's tongue stopped him.

"Ah ah, don't get testy now. Our deal may not have technically started, but that won't stop me from punishing you if I find you irritating, now will it?"

Letting his hooves clatter to the floor, ignoring another pained moo from a short distance away, Joey closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate.

"Very good, and now..." Vincent gave a couple more rough jerks along his shaft, admiring the previous load of cum still covering it. Grabbing hold of the horse's waist, he slapped his cock down between his ass-cheeks, hot-dogging the beautiful rump. He had to stifle a series of giggles, the short, regrowing stubble tickling the underside of his messy cock. Pulling back, he aimed his tip at the well-used, equally messy anus, tickling the ring with it. A quick shove was all it took to slip his entire length back inside, squealing with glee at the returning warmth and snug tightness.

Joey bit his lip. The intrusion was in no way painful or difficult, just endlessly humiliating. He absolutely hated it, and yet, the pressure against his prostate was making his cage painfully tight. He'd give anything to be able to jerk off and get rid of this feeling, but... two weeks... he had to last two weeks... he had to- A prodding at his snout caused his eyes to spring open. The two wolves had decided to join in, both of their bright red, pointed cocks emerging from their sheaths, swelling mere inches from his mouth.

"I suggest you take care of my boys before they get upset," the otter said, beginning to move his hips, slowly pounding away at the horse's ass. "And remember, no teeth, yes?"

Making fists with his cuffed hands, Joey acquiesced, closing his eyes and opening his mouth, at least letting the bastard wolves do the job themselves. To his surprise, instead of feeling a single cock slip into his mouth, he felt his lips stretched wide by both entering at once. He opened his eyes to see both wolves standing side by side, each with an arm over the other's shoulder, pressing their still-growing, knotted shafts together as well. Moving in unison, the wolves began pistoning their hips at awkward angles, fucking the horse's throat, repeatedly slapping their knots against the fully-stretched mouth.

Every instinct Joey had told him to bite down. He buried those thoughts, focusing back on pretending he was anywhere else. Anywhere that didn't feature a pair of eight-inch lupine cocks stuffing his mouth and a crazed otter wasn't raping his ass. Each wolf grabbed hold of his mane, additionally forcing him to bob his head as they pounded in and out. A long stream of drool ran out of the bottom of his mouth, forming a small puddle on the floor, drip by drip. A short distance away, he heard another electrical crackle and pained, muffled moo. He felt a hand grab hold of his tail as the thrusting at his rump increased in speed. He even felt a wetness forming at the tip of his own chaste member. Despite it all, he couldn't stop himself from sending out a weak flow of pent-up pre-cum.

All three of Joey's assailants steadily grew faster and fiercer, until he was legitimately terrified that his mouth was about to get double knotted. To his relief, both wolves came, nearly at the same time, belting out harmonizing howls as they coated his throat and tongue with their seed. Before long, the otter joined them, grunting like a wild animal, slapping against the tattooed cheeks. Working himself to a shuddering climax, his entire body trembling as he sent his second thick load into the tight hole.

"Mmmm, spectacular," the otter said, firmly massaging the horse's flanks. Sharply jerking his hips back, yanking his shaft out of the sloppy, gaping tailhole. "Go ahead boys, you'll love this fellow's tail. It's like hot marshmallow. Take turns, though. Eric and Kevin deserve the first dee-pee, yes?"

"Yes, sir!" the wolves quickly agreed, running around different sides of the sawhorse, meeting at the horse's rear, while the otter replaced them at his head. Shouldering the gray wolf to the side, the red wolf stuck out his tongue, and promptly buried his shaft in the loosened hole up to his knot. A pleased moan escaped his lips as he began his turn, fucking the horse with rapid, shallow thrusts. He stopped briefly when he felt a cold nose press under his tail, the gray wolf happily taking a whiff, then shoving his tongue past the tight rim. The red wolf whined with glee, bucking his knot against the horse's hole as he enjoyed the surprise rimjob.

Vincent, meanwhile, flicked the horse's nose with his cock, leaving a small spattering of cum between his nostrils. Joey opened his eyes to see the messy shaft, recoiling in horror at the knowledge of where it had just been, and at what he was clearly expected to do. He felt sick to his stomach as the otter prodded his lips, saying, "Come on now, Joey, you've come this far, don't disappoint me now."

Shuddering, Joey folded his ears back, opening his mouth just enough to let that horrible length of flesh inside. His ears were then grabbed in tight fists, used as handles as the otter humped his muzzle, angling downward to make sure every inch of his shaft's underside cleaned itself on the pinned tongue. Joey retched amid the repeated thrusts, his throat momentarily constricting, feeling nothing but a primal level of disgust. On top of everything else, now he had to taste his own ass alongside the rapist's cum filling it. No matter what happened, everything kept finding a way to get worse.

But he couldn't let himself break. He'd get his revenge, one day or another. He would. He would. He'd play along however long it took. He'd save his friend. He'd escape. He'd kill every one of these motherfuckers. He would.

He couldn't let himself break. That's exactly what they wanted.

Behind him, he felt an increased pressure when the red wolf's knot popped inside him, promptly filling his ass with the familiar warmth of another filling of cum. Within moments, the knot was wrenched back out, and within moments, the gray wolf took his turn, slipping his cock into the freshly vacant hole. Just like the gray wolf did for him, the red wolf knelt behind his partner, lifting his bushy tail and burying his wet nose underneath it.

Continuously picking up the speed of his deepthroating, slapping his balls against the horse's chin, Vincent clenched his jaw, his sensitive member beyond overstimulated. Hearing another pained, frustrated moo over his shoulder sent him hurtling over the edge, hammering fully inside one final time, injecting yet another load directly into the horse's gullet. He held completely still, just letting his softening shaft rest on the moist tongue that was failing to push it away.

Before too long, the gray wolf finished as well, knotting the horse, firing in an additional few spurts of wolf jizz. He fell forward, draping himself across the horse's back, hugging him close. The red wolf hopped upright onto his footpaws, taking the opportunity to bury his once-more rock-hard shaft under the gray wolf's tail, forcing his partner to knot-fuck the horse while he began frantically humping them all together.

Finally slipping his cock free of the horse's mouth, Vincent wiped it off across the top of his muzzle. He was grinning ear to ear as he knelt down, close to the exhausted equine's panting face, watching with glee as each of the gray wolf's thrusts shoved him forward. "I must say, I genuinely enjoyed meeting you today, Joey. And I have one last word of advice. Eric and Kevin will treat you well, and even once those two weeks are up, you better do the same for them. Because if they ever give you up? Your body is mine, and I'll be waiting."

Up above, both wolves gave another harmonious howl as they each came again. The red wolf clutched the gray close, making out as they lay together atop the horse.

Grunting at the added weight, Joey scrabbled his hooves against the floor in an attempt to shake them off. Feeling a hand gently stroking his mane, he opened his eyes, shuddering at the toothy grin mere inches away from his face.

"I'll be waiting."