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Ren had never felt more miserable.

Muzzled, hogtied, and crammed into a cage so small that he could barely move, the otter's first night as a slave had been absolute hell. Cramps wracked his muscles from being in the awkward position all night long, and this was on top of all of the pain he was still feeling from his first night of being "broken in," as his new master would say. Despite hours of enduring the clamps and their evil chain that tugged on his nipples with even the tiniest movement, he had not gotten used to their constantly growing ache. But what was worst of all was his cock. Even though Slithar had turned off the vibrations that morning, the otter's caged dick still pressed uncomfortably against the floor of his cage, stuck in that horrible limbo between flaccidity and erection, which refused to go away, no matter that Ren had never been less aroused in his life.

His master had woken up a long time ago--or at least it felt like a long time--and hadn't so much as given him a look before leaving the bedroom, stopping only to say, "We've got a busy morning planned for you, fuckmeat." There was no telling what exactly the dragon had planned, but nervous energy festered in his stomach as his brain imagined the worst. Slithar had made it quite clear that there would be a lot more abuse and fucking, but how intense would it get? Ren was a kidnapping victim now, and his abductors were far more sophisticated than he could have imagined. Lionel, Bryce, Slithar... none of the masters seemed the slightest bit concerned that they might be caught, and that terrified him. What would happen if they decided they no longer needed him?

A shudder passed through his body, and he gave a little moan as it put pressure on his nipple chain. He hoped someone would rescue them. Surely they'd notice that he and Satch were missing. Maybe if he was a good boy, if he did what Slithar asked and didn't make him mad, then he could ask what they were doing with the stallion. Worry churned together with the fear inside him. He was completely helpless right now. Tears stung his eyes, and he took a deep breath, strongly tainted with the bitter smell of the muzzle, through his nose in an attempt to calm himself.

It was almost a relief to have these thoughts interrupted by the sudden noise of footsteps through the bedroom door, which Slithar had left open. "Here comes the feline brigade!" called a familiar voice, and Ren squinted to make out the approaching figure: a lion, shirtless, wearing gym shorts and sneakers, and leading a dark figure on a leash. As the two people emerged from the dark hallway into the light, Ren realized the crawling figure was a black panther, still managing some feline grace as he made his way into Slithar's bedroom on all fours.

The panther was quite handsome; his charcoal fur shone in the light, which emphasized every muscle in his athletic form, especially evident with each crawling step he took. Unlike Ren, the panther wore no chastity cage, and his flaccid penis hung between his legs, swinging slightly as he crawled, already quite long despite being soft. He bore a collar, leather and much thinner than the electrified version Ren had been forced to wear. His eyes met Ren's, and there was something inexplicably comforting in the feline's calm gaze.

"What, not even a 'hi' for Master Lionel, otter boy? Where are your manners?"

Ren, who of course couldn't say anything with the leather muzzle strapped around his face, gave a whimper of terror. Lionel was just as handsome as the slave whose leash he held, and Ren couldn't help but recognize this, even in spite of his fear of this master who had broken him in the previous day. The lion's mane and body were drenched in sweat, which made his golden fur shine in a different way than the panther's; the slave was meant to be pretty, like a toy, but the master seemed to radiate independence, leadership, even cockiness. The otter couldn't help but notice that, in spite of the panther's calmness, it was clear that he was in a caste far below that of the lion. It wasn't even that the panther was naked and leashed while Lionel stood clothed and free; there was something inherent in how the two males carried themselves. Ren suddenly felt more nauseated than ever.

The lion pulled a key out of his pocket and knelt beside the otter's cage. "Long time, no see, little otter. Looks like you've been broken a bit, huh?" Ren could only whimper again in response as Lionel unlocked the cage door and swung it wide open. "I was serious about that hello, by the way. A slave's got to be polite! Let me get that muzzle." The lion's paws reached forward to undo the leather straps. Ren shuddered under the feline's hands, which were gentle, but terrifyingly strong. It slipped off with little effort, and the lion master took his hand and lightly stroked the otter from the top of his snout to the back of his head.

"H-hello, s-sir..." Ren stammered, feeling awkward and uncomfortable at the petting.

"Good morning, otter boy!" Lionel said, grinning. "Are you ready for your first full day as our slave?"

"P-please, sir... what's going to happen to me?"

"Ah ah ah, careful with that 'm' word, otter! Master Slithar doesn't like that one. I don't think you want a punishment before you even get out of your sleeping cage, do you?"

Ren whimpered. "N-no, sir. Sorry, sir."

Lionel chuckled. "That's right, boy. Obedience suits you. As for what we're going to do with you... it just wouldn't be fun if I ruined the surprise, would it?" He tousled the fur on Ren's head before standing back up. "I will tell you, though, that there's a reason I took my morning run early today. I like being sweaty for cute little slaves like you." The otter didn't want to think about what this meant, but memories of being forced to lick Slithar's feet and armpits played vividly in his head. Now that Lionel was standing, Ren noticed that the feline wasn't wearing any socks with his running shoes.

"Like them, little otter?" Lionel said casually, pointing at his sneakers, for Ren had let out a little whine as he stared at them. "That cute tongue of yours has got a busy life ahead of it. You're going to learn today that your tongue and your ass are really the only parts of you that matter anymore. Oh, but don't fret, little one," he laughed at the otter's little sob of despair. "I can already tell both are good when it comes to you." Ren didn't know how to respond to this, so he just looked up at the lion, quivering in fear.

Lionel chuckled again. "Not much for conversation, huh? Then let's get you out of this cage." The lion seized Ren roughly by the back of the collar.

"No! Wait! Please, sir! The clips--aaaggghhhhh..." he groaned as the nipple chain tautened, the dull ache suddenly sharp, as if the clips were teeth, biting him harder as they tried to hold on.

"Sorry, otter boy. Master Slithar's orders. The boss wants them ripped off, and the boss gets what he wants. This might sting a bit..." Without warning, Lionel gave the otter's collar a brutal yank.

Ren felt himself slide backward, and he heard the clips snap together as they pulled off of his nipples even before his body registered any pain. And then... there it was. His mouth opened wide in a scream, even as he looked down at his chest in horrified agony. How were they still there, because Lionel had just ripped them off of his chest, hadn't he? How could he be feeling this much pain without his nipples being two bloody patches of torn skin?

And then the lion was on top of him, tackling him and pinning him to the floor. The feline's hands found his aching nipples, the touch alone making him scream. But then Lionel pinched both nipples between his claws, sending his already intense screaming into hysteria. He had never known pain like this, like he had been shot twice in the chest, and he thrashed around, desperately trying to throw off the master in spite of how helpless his hogtied body was. Stubbornly the lion held on, and Ren felt an unspoken agreement between them: the pain would let up if he stopped fighting against it. The burning pain seemed to multiply with each second Lionel held onto him, but he eventually took control of his convulsing body. His head fell back against the floor, sobbing.

"That was from Master Slithar," Lionel said, smirking down at the weeping otter. "But this is from me!" And the lion dipped his head down to Ren's chest, his tongue pressing flat against one of the tortured nipples. It hurt far more than any tongue should have, his nipples so sensitive that every lick was a fresh sting of pain. The tongue slithered around the red, inflamed skin, soaking his fur with the lion's hungry, sloppy saliva, eliciting high-pitched, utterly submissive moans and whimpers. It was torture, made all the worse by the feeling of sheer intimacy that hadn't been there during the pinching or the clips.

The tongue pushed harder against his nipple, then Lionel's muzzle went down with it, his lips applying pressure and making the otter scream once more as the kiss transitioned into sucking. The feline's eyes looked up at him, the gaze playful, and Ren could only stare back in teary-eyed horror. He wanted to beg for mercy, but he had forgotten how to form words amidst all his pain.

Lionel suckled his nipple for a bit longer, then pulled away, baring his teeth at Ren in a naughty grin. The row of brilliant white fangs opened and then clicked shut, and the lion raised his eyebrows mischievously as he looked down at him then at the nipple he had been sucking. Ren whimpered, shaking his head desperately back and forth. He was unable to articulate the "NO!" that his mind was screaming inside his skull, useless though it would have been. The lion's mouth opened, and his neck bent forward once more, this time taking Ren's sore nipple between his teeth.

"AAAHHHH!" howled the otter. It felt like the clips had come back, only this time sharper and, as a result, harder pinching. All of his fingers and toes squeezed behind his back, his claws digging into his palms and his toes all curling taut at once. The lion's teeth bit down and then his neck reared back like a feral tearing skin from the flesh of his prey; the skin on Ren's chest pulled upward, making a triangle with its point pinched between Lionel's jaws. Worst of all, the feline's powerful tongue went to work, lapping at the nipple that was trapped between his teeth, which sent Ren into his highest-pitched screams yet.

It felt like hours before Lionel let him go, and every muscle in his body that had been tight and contracted during the pain all loosened at once, leaving him lying limp on the floor. His sore chest heaved with sobs and gasps for air.

Lionel leaned forward and gave his face a lick. "That was fun, otter boy! But I still have your other nipple to play with, you know..."

"NO! PLEASE!" Ren shouted, suddenly finding words again just in time to plead for mercy. "SIR--MASTER! PLEASE! ANYTHING BUT--AAHHHHH!" For Lionel had seized him by the shoulders and pinned him to the floor, his tongue slurping at the other nipple even harder than it had the first time. Licks, sucks, bites... each turned into another, and it wasn't the ordered sequence that had been done the first time. Instead, it was a passionate, moaning ordeal of teeth, lips, and tongue. Lionel even switched between Ren's nipples--a lick here, a nibble there--giving the otter absolutely no respite from his pain.

"Aw, don't cry, little otter..." Lionel finally said, once he was finished several minutes later. Shuddering under the lion's hand as it stroked his face, Ren turned his head away. He didn't want to see the evil feline ever again! "We'll do this again when you haven't been in clamps all night... I think you'll have a little more fun." Ren moaned as Lionel grabbed him by the face and forced his head back so that he was looking at the master once more. "Don't be like that, otter boy! Master Lionel wants a taste!" Helplessly, the otter watched the lion's mouth open, the tip of the feline tongue extending to lick at Ren's lips. He whined as the slurps grew more aggressive, the tongue sloppily attacking the lips he tried to keep sealed shut.

But it was useless. The strong hands forced his muzzle open and he found himself in an intense kiss, the feline's tongue probing his mouth and fighting through his whimpering. The otter tried to pull away, but Lionel forced himself on him harder, gripping the back of his head to hold him still. He could feel the hot breaths on his face each time Lionel's mouth opened for air, the dominant tongue snaking around inside his mouth and marking it as the lion's, each violating, sloppy taste further erasing his old life and replacing it with his new existence as a slave. Tears stung his eyes, even though his eyelids were squeezed shut, and he surrendered. There was no point in fighting it. He lay limply, letting the feline violate him for what felt like hours until Lionel pulled away, both otter and lion panting heavily, a thin string of slobber keeping their lips connected until Lionel licked his lips, grinning as it broke.

"Not bad, otter! But you can't make the master do all the work. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Ren gulped. "I--Otter is sorry, sir..." He said, quickly correcting for his use of first person.

Lionel smirked at him. "You're sorry? But I gave you a compliment, didn't I?"

"Sorry, sir, thank you, sir," Ren said nervously, blushing as Lionel laughed at him.

"Silly otter," chuckled the lion, who reached out and tweaked the otter's nipples, making him cry out in pain. "You've been quite rude today! You've distracted me so much that I haven't been able to introduce Catnip here to you!"

The panther, who had spent the entire time on his knees, holding his position and staring at Ren with what looked like concern, gave a start at this mention and turned his attention toward Lionel. "Come here and sit, kitty," Lionel said, patting the floor next to him. "Otter boy, you hold still. I'm going to get you out of these cuffs so we can have some more fun." The lion stood, and Ren couldn't help but notice the sizable bulge in his gym shorts. "Like what you see, otter? You don't have to look so hungry for it, you know. Not to worry... you'll get to taste it soon enough." Ren whimpered in embarrassment and dipped his head so he didn't have to look at the lion. The last thing he wanted was to have Lionel's cock in his mouth; that was something he was positive about! But hearing the lion talk to him like that... they were only words, but they were so casually demeaning that they hit a vulnerable part of his brain and made him give an especially feral, submissive whimper.

"Now, now..." Lionel said as he unlocked Ren's ankle cuffs. "Don't fret, little otter. You're going to be slutting it up right away as soon as I get these off." He loosened the belts and slipped them off the otter's footpaws, laughing at another submissive noise that Ren couldn't stop himself from making. "In the meantime, take a look at our handsome kitty slave over there. Catnip's another one of Master Slithar's toys, just like you. The Boss ranks his slaves, and Catnip here is number 1. Don't you want to know what number you are, otter boy?"

"N-no, sir," Ren said, and it was true. He just wanted to curl up and hide away from this insane game of pain and humiliation. He didn't care. He knew it wouldn't be anything good.

"Hmm..." Lionel gave the cuff he was working on a tough yank. "I think you do want to know, so I'm going to ask again. Don't you want to know what number you are, otter boy?"

"Yes, sir," said Ren miserably.

"Then ask me, otter."

Ren struggled to hold back another humiliated whimper. He knew he had no choice but to play along. "W-what number am--is otter, sir?"

Lionel laughed as he slipped the last cuff off of Ren's wrist. "Four, of course! You're starting at the very bottom, otter boy. Master Slithar told me to make sure you know this: you're ranked below every other slave in the dungeon. Your horse buddy, on the other hand, is not. The Boss thought you would be ah... a special case."

Ren groaned. The answer didn't surprise him at all, and hearing it only served to humiliate him even more! Tears of embarrassment and frustration blurred his vision as Lionel stood up again. Why did they hate him so much? Why did they want him to be absolutely broken and miserable?

"Aww, don't be sad! I think you've got a lot of potential as our omega bitch. You're one of the cutest little otter sluts I've ever seen. It's going to be really fun having you serve us, I can already tell." These words didn't make Ren feel better at all. He could only stare at the lion in defeated disbelief, laying on his side in spite of his freed limbs because Lionel hadn't told him he could move yet.

"So cute, heh," Lionel said, giving the bulge in his shorts a grope. "Come on, otter. Get to your knees. It's time to learn the begging position. Catnip, show him how it's done."

Groaning, Ren shakily pushed himself to all fours with some difficulty, as his limbs felt weak and less solid than normal. "Yes sir," came the panther's deep, calm voice from next to Lionel. The slave straightened his back and lifted his head to look up at the lion, his expression wide-eyed and submissive. His paws, which had been folded neatly in his lap, raised to either side of his chest, and his elbows tucked in against his ribs. His wrists went limp, pointing downward so that he looked unmistakably like a feral dog begging for scraps.

"Good kitty," Lionel said, then grinned once more at Ren. "See how he's holding himself? This is now your default position when you're around a master. Go on, copy him. Most of the masters here will not wait for you. You'll just get punished."

Ren gave a little terrified squeak. "Yes sir!" He lifted his head and pulled his wrists to his chest as quickly as he could. There was no need to widen his eyes like the panther had, because the otter could feel the fear and submissiveness stretching his expression.

His body quivered as he watched Lionel saunter over to one of the racks on Slithar's wall that held the various whipping and spanking instruments on display. The lion selected a riding crop and tested its weight in a paw, giving it a little twirl. Shaking his head, he put it back and grabbed another. This time he rolled it between his fingers, then smiled, seemingly satisfied.

"It's not bad, little otter, but you could do better. That's what this is for," Lionel said as he smacked the riding crop lightly in the palm of his other hand. "First thing." SMACK! Ren gave a shriek of pain as the head of the crop connected with his back, leaving a hot, stinging mark where it struck with frightening quickness. "Keep that back up; you're slouching. Roll those shoulders back and get that chest out more."

Ren whimpered and obeyed, giving a little groan as his back and shoulders began to ache from their stiffness. He gave a questioning look at Lionel just in time to see him raise the crop again, and he flinched as it came down and struck his back even harder than it had the first time.

"What do you say when a master gives an order, boy?" Lionel's voice was losing its casualness, and it overpowered Ren's shriek of pain.

"Yes sir! Yes sir! I'm sorry--OWW! OTTER IS SORRY, SIR! OTTER IS SORRY!" The riding crop pulled away from its third strike, leaving his back a throbbing mass of soreness. Lionel folded his arms and looked down at the whimpering otter.

"Careful, otter boy. Master Slithar's not going to be nearly as nice as I am. It's a 'yes, sir' after every order. Got it?"

"Yes sir!" cried Ren, who then whined as the leather loop of riding crop stroked his teary face. It trailed down to his chest, making him moan as it teased his sore nipples.

"When you're begging, keep the nips uncovered. We need to see them and have access to them. Always. Got it?"

"Yes sir!" The otter's whimpers grew in pitch as Lionel stroked back and forth between them.

"No, otter. Keep your posture, even when it hurts." Ren cried out as the crop applied pressure to his nipples, but he managed to hold the begging position. "Good boy! Looking like a prize slut already!" Laughing, the lion pulled the riding crop away and gave it a few graceful, but careless, twirls. "And what does a slave say when his master calls him a good boy?"

Ren squeaked in alarm. "Sorry sir! Please don't hit m--otter sir! Thank you for calling otter a good boy, sir!" He whimpered and flinched as Lionel stepped toward him, but was surprised when the lion merely gave him a pat on the head.

"Heh, so fucking cute. Let's get that tongue back to work." Ren groaned, his eyes darting between Lionel's mouth, the sweat-soaked fur of his shirtless body, and the sockless ankles sticking out of the tops of his tennis shoes. But the lion surprised him by turning to the panther and leading him forward so that he was facing directly in front of Ren. Their knees touched, and their begging paws were so close to one another that it was almost like they were holding hands.

Lionel stood off to the side, the bulge in his shorts poking out between their muzzles. He reached out and placed a hand on each slave's head, his fingers lightly stroking them. Ren whimpered at the sheer degradation of being treated like a pet. Even though it didn't feel bad to be petted like this, his humiliation and fear of the dominant male destroyed any sort of pleasure he got out of it.

"We had a pretty good makeout session, otter, but that was mostly because of me. We masters don't deserve to put in the work if the slave can help out... kind of defeats the purpose of having you around, you know? Don't feel bad... I hear you were a virgin before we caught you, but we'll fix that. The good thing about completely submissive sluts like you is that you're quick learners. This kind of stuff is in your blood!" Ren could see the lump in Lionel's shorts give a twitch at this demeaning speech. "So Catnip here is going to be your practice dummy. I want to see you make out with him, and you're going to be the leader this time. Go on, get busy!"

Ren barely had time to react before Lionel seized both his and the panther's heads and forced them together. Their lips met, and the lion yanked Ren's head sideways so that their muzzles interlocked with one another. The panther's mouth opened just the perfect amount for the otter's nervous tongue to poke inside, which he did without complaint. He wasn't eager to have Lionel use the riding crop again. It was sloppy, awkward work, and Ren found himself moving his tongue at random. But he thought it was going better than the first kiss with Lionel had, and he wasn't sure if that was because he wasn't afraid of the panther or if the panther was helping him perform better out of kindness. Perhaps even the panther was so used to doing this that he was already an expert--Ren didn't know. He just knew that he was desperate to do well... anything to avoid more punishment!

"Don't be selfish, otter. Reach your paw out, like this!" The lion seized one of Ren's begging hands and guided it down to the panther's erection, which felt warm and moist in his paw. He gave it a squeeze, which strangely felt quite a bit different than his own fap sessions. Clumsily, he stroked the panther's cock, the slave's breath hot in his face with arousal. With the panther's erection throbbing in his grip, he was suddenly aware of the cage on his cock, and a little moan made its way into their kissing.

He was interrupted, coughing and gasping for air at a tug on his scalp that separated the two of them. Lionel's voice spoke in his ear, "Use your lips more, otter. Like this."

And the otter barely had time for a whimper before Lionel embraced him and aggressively began kissing, the lion's lips more like a sensual grope than anything else. Every movement was almost a bite, and every successive kiss was a new violation of his mouth. It didn't feel like Ren's mouth was his own anymore! Lionel's dominance asserted itself through each powerful stroke of his tongue and lips; Ren realized that submission was the only response he could give. Each time Lionel's mouth opened to kiss in a different position, Ren gulped for air. With his head tilted back, he felt like he was drowning in the lion's intense makeout session. The paw on the back of his head squeezed and pushed him harder into the lion's muzzle, and he took that as a hint to reciprocate, his lips and tongue meeting Lionel's and trying desperately to match the intensity of the master's kisses.

With a lewd smack of his lips, Lionel pulled away. "Haaah... That's more like it, slut." The lion's chest swelled and contracted with his heavy breathing, and his expression was wild with arousal. "Back to Catnip now! Give me a good show!"

Ren scrambled for a breath before his face was forced to meet the panther's once more. The first time was nothing compared to this. Every movement the otter did was a desperate attempt to show Lionel what he had learned, and he made an absolute slut out of himself as he forced himself on the panther, who responded to his sloppy, forceful kisses and licks with ones of his own. After a few minutes of clumsy, but eager, sloppiness, Ren realized that there was a rhythm to what the panther was trying to do, and he backed off slightly. He felt a connection between the two of them after this adjustment, and it seemed to please Lionel, who let go of their heads and groped himself again with a lewd purring sound.

"Very nice, boys! What did I say about being a quick learner, otter? Told you that being a whore's in your blood, heh heh." Lionel patted Ren on the head before taking a seat on top of the cage where Ren had slept. "No, I didn't say stop, boys. Keep it up." With a little squeak of fear, the otter pushed his muzzle against the panther's once more, pushing his tongue into his partner's mouth, fear renewing his energy and eagerness to please.

Even while forcing himself to kiss the panther, he found himself glancing sideways at Lionel, who was casually untying one of his shoes. He could smell the lion's musk as the sneaker came off, and he whined miserably. He hadn't been a slave very long, but he knew that he was going to have to taste the sweaty footpaw, and the thought of it made him sick.

The bare foot extended toward him, the heel coming to rest on his shoulder. Spicy musk stung his nostrils, and he could see the matted fur of Lionel's paw, which was damp with sweat. Each claw-tipped toe flexed lazily. He was struck by the size of it; resting on his shoulder, the foot extended taller than the tip of his head, making him feel even smaller and weaker than he already had.

"Distracted? They are some nice paws, aren't they?" Lionel chuckled, taking his foot and stroking Ren's head with it. The otter cringed. He could feel the dampness of it transferring to his fur, and he pulled away from his kiss with the panther before he could stop himself. In response, the lion just laughed again and finished slipping off his other shoe, taking both feet and pressing them against Ren's face. Spicy, aggressively manly musk overwhelmed his nostrils as the feet pushed and toppled him backward, where they pinned him to the floor, rubbing their stink into his face.

Ren whimpered over and over again as his hands grasped desperately at the lion's ankles, trying to get the disgusting feet off his face. But Lionel was too strong for him, and, with another laugh at the otter's expense, squeezed Ren's muzzle between his soles. He could see between the master's toes, which gave him a clear line of vision to the bulge in Lionel's shorts, now tinged with a small, wet spot of precum.

"What's the matter, otter boy? Don't you like sexy footpaws in your face?" Ren couldn't speak with the feet holding his mouth shut, but he thought his long, miserable whine conveyed his answer pretty well. "Awww! The little otter hates musky paws?" Ren whined again as Lionel rubbed his feet all over his face. "But I've got such nice..." He drummed his toes on either side of Ren's muzzle. "Musky..." He pinned down one side of the otter's face with one foot and grinded the other against his nose. "Strong paws!" Ren let out a sob as the feet squeezed his face upright again and forced him to make eye contact with Lionel. His nose burned with their fiery musk, and he felt gross as the lion's sweat and smell were rubbed into his fur.

"I think it's worship time, otter boy. Something tells me you're going to be good at this." Mercifully, one foot lifted from his face, leaving his fur feeling sticky and damp, but at least the musk was only half as strong now. He watched the panther reach out his paws to support Lionel's heel. The slave dipped his head in reverence, as though the foot were an idol for him to which to pay his respects instead of just a sweat-soaked footpaw. "Good kitty. Make sure you pay attention, otter boy! Slaves aren't allowed to sit and feel sorry for themselves!" Ren groaned at this, because he had never felt more miserable in his life. "There are five steps when it comes to worshiping us that you'll need to remember. Why don't you help educate our new otter friend, Catnip?"

The panther showed no signs of disgust or defiance. Instead, he took his nose and pressed it against Lionel's heel, giving an unmistakable, deep inhale as he dragged it upward to the tip of the lion's toes. As he pulled away from Lionel's claws, he spoke in a deep, calm recitation. "Nuzzle, sniff, kiss, lick, suck, sir." And then to demonstrate, the panther pressed his lips to the lion's sole before giving it a long slurp of his tongue, again from heel to toes, which ended in him taking the plump toes in his mouth and sucking them as if they were a cock.

Lionel gave a little purr of pleasure, and Ren could feel the toes on his face give a luxurious flex. "That's right. When it comes to pleasing us, otter boy, 'nuzzle, sniff, kiss, lick, suck' will get you far. Go on, otter. Say it."

Ren didn't think it was possible, but he blushed even harder at this command. "Um... nuzzle, sniff, lick, kiss, suck. Sir," he added hastily.

The other foot returned to his face so quickly that it took him a few seconds to realize what had happened. The panther's licking had done nothing about the smell; if anything, he found the paw even more disgusting now that he could feel the other slave's saliva on his face. "Not quite, future pawslut! It's 'kiss,' THEN 'lick.' Bet you're more of a slut who learns by doing, huh? Go on, kiss my paws."

Ren whined so hard that Lionel pushed harder on his face. "Come on, little otter. They're just paws," he said reprovingly. "None of your fellow slaves complain this much." He lifted his feet a couple of inches so that the two smooth soles were just within reach. "Kiss them."

The otter couldn't help but whimper again as he forced his lips to touch one of the soles. It was a strain on his neck to reach the footpaw, and he let his head slowly back to the hard floor after the kiss, resisting the urge to gag at the smell.

"Aw, come on, otter boy. Kiss it like you mean it. More pressure with the lips. Go on." Ren craned his neck forward again, his lips making a humiliating smacking sound as he gave another kiss to Lionel's foot. "That's more like it! Again! Again!"

The lion made him repeat the kissing five more times until he was satisfied. "Good boy," he said, and the otter gave a whine, every bit the sound of a feral dog, just how Lionel was treating him. "Now comes my favorite part: the licking. You'll never forget that it's 'nuzzle, sniff, kiss, lick, suck' after we're done. Open your mouth and lick my feet."

"Please... don't make me do this..." Ren whined. How could anyone enjoy this? He had always found footpaws--especially other people's--disgusting, and he had never been this close to someone else's feet, let alone ones that were this fresh from a sockless workout!

"Don't make OTTER do this," Lionel chided him. "Just for that, you're doing a full lick, all the way from heel to toe on one foot then toes to heel on the other. Tongue out. No... all the way." Ren sobbed as he forced out his tongue so far that it hung over his chin. "That's it, keep it there. Press it against my paw--go on, it's not going to kill you--and hold it there. Flatten it so you get a nice strong taste of footpaw." Ren's whines were their highest pitched yet as he pressed the flat of his tongue against the sole. Spicy and pungent, the flavor exploded on his taste buds, every bit as horrible, even worse, than he had expected. His eyes watered as he forced himself to hold his tongue against it. The previous day's licking of Slithar's feet had been quick and desperate, and the threat of pain hadn't given him the state of mind to register the taste of the dragon's feet, not like this. They were smoother than he expected, and the taste of sweaty workout musk was incredibly... intimate. It dominated his senses just as Lionel was dominating him, the taste of the feline's workout coating his tongue and making him wonder if he'd ever be able to get it out of his mouth. "That's it! Now lick, all the way, just like I told you." Ren obeyed, whimpering the whole time he dragged his tongue from heel to toes of the left footpaw, slurping from one big toe to the other to transition to the right foot. This one was easier than the first, as it was the underside of his tongue making a long streak of saliva across the paw. He realized as he reached the heel that his tongue had traced the same path where the panther slave had left his own trail of spit, and he gagged from the disgustingness of it all.

"There we go! Good boy! Now tell me what the proper way to worship is."

Ren gasped for air amidst his sobs of disgust and humiliation. "Nuzzle, sniff, kiss, lick, suck, sir!"

"Then get busy. Start nuzzling. Rub your face alllll over my feet. Helps dry up the spit too, you know. A good pawslut always cleans up after himself."

Ren's face burned with shame as he pressed his muzzle against the lion's paws and stroked them with his cheek, the sweat and saliva soaking into his fur along with the tears he couldn't hold back any longer. With a groan, he wondered if, when Lionel was done with him, he would still smell like the master's paws.

"Good boy! Now what's the proper way to worship?"

"Uggghhh..." Ren groaned. "Nuzzle, sniff, kiss, lick, suck, sir..."

"Good! Now let the sniffing begin! Go ahead and take both feet at once--I know that otter nose is big enough. No, no--press your nose against it. You can't get a good smell from far away. Yeah, that's it... press hard. I want deep breaths, boy. Savor it."

Ren whimpered but obeyed, one nostril pressed against each sole. Bracing himself for their smell, the otter squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled as hard as he could. His head spun with the overwhelming stink of musk, which stung not only his nostrils, but his throat and insides too. He could feel it reaching deep inside him, on an almost... spiritual level. This wasn't just smelling some paws. This was domination, a violation that reached beyond being leashed and ordered around. It was more like a rape in that the lion was forcing part of himself inside Ren, who, by breathing it in, was taking it almost voluntarily, no matter how much he hated it.

"What's next, otter boy?" came Lionel's voice, which was strikingly jovial in contrast to Ren's sniffling and whimpering.

"K-kiss and lick, sir. Does otter have to do those again?"

Lionel laughed at him. "I think you know the answer to that! Let's feel those lips again."

Ren groaned but began covering the musky soles with kisses, going from one sole to the other, back and forth. He could hear Lionel purring above him, and now the feet flexed and contorted with each rumbling noise of pleasure. It didn't seem right to wait for the lion to tell him to lick. As the feline grew hornier, Ren instinctively opened his mouth and gave the foot a nervous lick, eliciting a moan from his master. The foot pressed harder against his tongue, making it impossible to withdraw it back into his mouth, and he slurped at the paw's surface, his mouth watering at the pungent taste and leaving his drool all over it.

"Good boy! Knew you'd be a natural at this. Get between the toes now."

Ren was so humiliated at this order that his groan was extremely high pitched, almost anguished. His tongue snaked between Lionel's toes, and he was nauseated to find that the flavor was strongest there, his mouth watering so much that long strings of drool dribbled sloppily down his chin and onto the top of Lionel's footpaw. He went down the line of toes, poking his tongue between each in a desperate effort to get it over with as quickly as possible. Luckily, it seemed from Lionel's purrs and moans that he was doing a good job.

"Alright, otter, now for the last step. What is it?"

Ren pulled away from the last toe, a trail of spit connecting his mouth to the space next to it. "Suck, sir."

"That's right. Get to work." Three of Lionel's toes curled, leaving the big toe pointing upward. With a whine, the otter took it in his mouth and sucked at it, grimacing as his tongue caught a taste of the underside of the lion's toeclaw. Pushing past the claw, he 'deepthroated' the toe to its base, applying pressure with his mouth so that it made lewd sounds as he sucked it.

"Good boy!" Lionel repeated, purring. "Catnip, get over here. Otter boy's been messy. Help clean it up." The panther crawled over next to Ren, who continued sucking on the lion's toe as he watched his fellow slave. Taking the other foot in his hands, the panther rubbed his face against the sole, seemingly unbothered by its glistening coating of saliva and sweat. As the panther worshiped, Lionel had Ren suck his other toes in succession, then ordered him to open wide.

"I want you to take all of them at once, otter boy. Then you'll officially be a pawslut." Ren sobbed as the foot forced its way into his mouth, stretching his cheeks until they bulged with the sheer size of the lion's big paw. His tongue lapped at the extra-musky spot at the base of Lionel's toes, and he continued making humiliated, defeated noises as he struggled to suck all four at once.

"Come on, Catnip. Same foot as otter boy. I want you boys to make out over my paw now. No, otter," he said sharply, because Ren had started to pull his mouth away from the toes. "Catnip's going to lead this time. You keep on sucking until he guides you off of it. And some more tongue action would do you some good," he added. "Lick between the toes as you suck."

Ren's whimper was muffled by the toes, but still was every bit as miserable as his other whines. His tongue slathered under and in between each toe in his mouth, tasting the lion master's musk no matter how many times his tongue lapped at the surface.

It took the panther some time to get to Ren. Clearly he had done this several times before, as there was no hesitation in his worship of Lionel's foot, which started at the heel. Ren couldn't see him very well from his position sucking on Lionel's toes, but there was something very methodical and practiced about the motion happening below him, and he could hear every deliberate slurp, sniff, and kiss, as well as the lion's aroused moaning.

Eventually, he felt the panther's broad tongue on his chin, licking all the way around the base of the toes in his mouth to slurp at both of his lips. With a gentleness that surprised him after all the manhandling by the masters, the panther put a hand on Ren's face, guiding his muzzle off of Lionel's toes so that the panther could suck at his tongue. The otter could taste Lionel's musk on the panther's breath as the tongue pushed against his, and soon they were making out once more. The panther guided them downward, his tongue's movements making it clear that they were to keep up the pace of their kissing, even as Lionel's footpaw came between them.

Ren had never imagined a makeout session could be this intense. It felt like their tongues were fighting over Lionel's toes as they slathered over and between them, meeting just for a moment before separating to worship the lion's foot some more. It took all of his focus to follow the panther's movements, which went side-to-side across the toes one moment, then down the foot the next, where they had to separate to lick for a few moments before coming back together to kiss each other once more. Lionel's other footpaw stroked Ren's head, which only forced him to press his tongue harder into the musky surface with each lick.

The foot on Ren's head switched places with the one over which they were kissing, and the otter was grateful to taste the top of the footpaw instead of the muskier sole. It felt bony and hard under his tongue as he licked a path to the tip of each long toe--much different than the meaty, soft underside he had spent the past hour worshiping. He could taste Lionel's musk much more strongly whenever he and the panther kissed now, but he found he much preferred this second-degree sole tasting than having his face forced into the most potent part of the master's foot. As Ren kissed and licked, licked and kissed, Lionel wiped his spit-coated foot on the otter's face and head, leaving him feeling slimy and dirty. But this was a dim, faraway thought in Ren's mind; his world was dominated by the smell, taste, and feel of Lionel's paws.

The footpaw left his head and was replaced by a hand, which pushed Ren and the panther together so hard that the two of them groaned in pain. The panther, not nearly as distracted by this change as Ren was, slurped at the otter's lips with renewed vigor. Panting, Ren hurriedly licked back in a drooling, messy exchange that wet not only their lips, but most of their muzzles. He couldn't tell whose saliva was whose, and he realized that it didn't matter because, to the lion, they were together just one object meant for his pleasure. The foot that they had been licking pulled away, and Lionel's fists gripped the fur on their heads, forcing them into an awkward kneeling, kissing crawl to the master's lap, his legs spread wide.

"Shorts off. Use your teeth." Lionel's command was heavy with aroused breathing, and Ren and the panther were forcefully pulled apart in a little burst of shared slobber. The otter found himself pressed next to the panther, Lionel's bulge between them, and together the two of them took the waistband of his shorts in their teeth and pulled, taking his jockstrap with them and exposing his long, slender cock. The smell of it hit Ren's nostrils, much, much spicier than the lion's paws had been, and it made him feel lightheaded. It was dark pink, almost red, and throbbing with arousal, and Ren couldn't help but notice that, even though it was thinner than Slithar's had been, it was still much bigger than his own cock, even outside of the chastity cage.

"Breathe it in." And Lionel shoved them nose-first into the base of the shaft. Ren and the panther were close enough to kiss again, and Ren caught himself as instinct tried to make him do just that. The panther took in a long, deep sniff, his toned chest expanding as he inhaled, and Ren quickly followed suit, the smell of musk so powerful, masculine, and unmistakably sexual that he whimpered, which only seemed to turn Lionel on more. The lion's fist squeezed his hair even harder and gave a shove so that Ren's nose pushed into the bushy fur at the base of his cock. The smell was somehow even stronger here, so spicy that it burned his nostrils as he inhaled, whimpering the whole time but never stopping his deep whiffs of it. He could hear the panther next to him sniffing it over and over, could feel his hot breaths after each inhale, and it felt like they were a part of the lion, inseparable from the powerful, overwhelming, fiery musk that was Master Lionel.

For once, the lion seemed beyond words. Moans--no longer purrs--were the only thing leaving his lips now, and he seemed incapable of giving orders. But Ren knew what the master wanted, and so did the panther, as their muzzles were guided back up the shaft, their lips meeting over the cocktip, their muzzles shining with more precum than Ren thought was possible for someone to produce. The taste of Lionel's cock was almost underwhelming after worshiping the base so intensely with his sniffs, but he slurped at it with just as much energy as he had put into breathing in the lion's musk. The panther went beyond licking, his tongue expertly snaking up and down the cock and into Ren's mouth with such skill that the otter struggled to keep up. He had never tried so hard at anything in his life, and it was more instinct than rational thought that he knew he had to serve and please Lionel.

The lion again forced them against the base of his shaft, and the panther extended his tongue all the way out; Ren followed suit. Together they slurped at the musky, sweaty pubes, their tongues occasionally meeting as they lapped up sweat, pre, and one another's saliva. From base to tip they continued this before meeting in their sloppiest embrace yet, the mixture of new tastes only serving to emphasize, rather than hide, the lingering flavor of foot musk in their mouths.

Lionel gave a feral, very feline noise and forced them to separate. The panther's head dipped down as the lion shoved it into his balls, which he obediently took in his mouth and sucked. Before Ren had time to react, he found himself gagging as Lionel forced him to take his cock in his muzzle. He fought against it, but the lion was far stronger, and the cock disappeared inside his mouth until his nose pressed into the tuft of pubic fur, overwhelming his senses with more musk.

The lion held Ren there for a few seconds, although the otter gagged and struggled, his eyes watering, before pulling him up for a wheezing gasp of air. Ren barely had time to breathe in before he choked again, his throat making a horrible noise as the cock violated it once more. He could feel the dick throbbing and bulging inside him, as though it were trying to cut off his air completely, and his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled to breathe. He sputtered and coughed as Lionel pulled him up for another breath. His throat felt raw, and a thick rope of slobber dribbled from his mouth to the cock. The lion's fist forced him down again, but this time it didn't hold him there. Instead, he was forced up and down, slowly at first, but then building up speed. He wasn't allowed breaths this time--Lionel seemed much too horny--and the master's hips bucked forward in time with Ren's gagging, choking sucks. The otter's vision grew blurry from a mixture of tears and lack of oxygen, but, just as he thought he would pass out, the cock slopped messily out of his muzzle. The golden-furred fist let go of his head and seized instead Lionel's cock, which made lewd schlorping noises as the feline began beating off, the shaft lubed up with Ren's spit.

"Mouth open!" Ren scarcely had time to obey before the first spurt of cum hit him in the face. His eyes shut to keep it out as the second spurt landed on his tongue, its flavor strong and bitter, with a slight spicy hint to it, just like its owner's musk. He groaned as the cock continued to empty itself on his face, the cum dribbling down his muzzle and tongue and onto his shoulders and chest, humiliating in its warmness. He could feel it trickling down his body, and he opened his eyes to find a glob of it oozing down his muzzle, directly in his line of vision. A long, incredibly submissive and high-pitched whine left his mouth, which still hung open, his tongue hanging out like a dog's as it dripped cum onto his legs.

"That's it... haaah... moan like a little slut," Lionel panted, reaching out to pat Ren on the head as he used his other hand to guide the panther's face over his groin to clean up. "Go ahead, swallow, otter boy. All good sluts do!" Ren's whimper was more a sob this time as he obeyed, shuddering as he made himself force down the lion's cum that had landed on his tongue. "There you go... come on boy, tongue back out. Show master you've swallowed like a good boy!" Ren had thought he couldn't be humiliated any more than he already had been, but the lion's order had proved him wrong. He let out another whimpering sob as he showed Lionel his clean tongue, still uncomfortably aware of the now-cold cum trickling through his fur.

"Good boy!" Lionel said, and his tone was so condescending that Ren whined again. "That was really good, boys. I haven't had a climax like that in a long time."

"Thank you, sir," said the panther, his voice muffled because his muzzle was nose-first in Lionel's balls.

"Th-thank you, sir," stammered Ren hurriedly.

"See? The life of a slut is pretty exciting, isn't it? You get to worship handsome guys like me all day!" Lionel laughed, standing up and pulling up his shorts. "Speaking of which... Master Slithar wants you two to join him for breakfast. I'll be there too, and so will Master Lowen--don't think you know him yet, little otter." Lionel ruffled the fur on Ren's head, some of which was messy with cum. "But you'll like him. He's got huge feet. I'm going to tell him all about that talented tongue of yours, believe me. Aw... what's the whining for?" For Ren, too miserable to speak, had just let out another whimper-sob. "I know what'll make that better. Catnip, c'mere."

The panther pulled himself away from Lionel's groin to kneel next to Ren. "I know Slithar's got some rope in here," Lionel said, turning to look through a chest of drawers. "Ah! Here we go..." Pulling out a long coil of rope, the lion set to work on the two of them.

"Perfect. Thought you could use a hug and a kiss, otter boy."

He had bound the two of them in an embrace, Ren with his arms wrapped around the panther's strong neck, his legs around the panther's waist. The panther's wrists were tied to the base of Ren's rudder, which put him in a hug around the small of the otter's back. Whimpering, the otter was uncomfortably aware of the panther's erection, which poked up between his ass cheeks as he sat in the slave's lap.

"Go on, kiss. You two need to practice before we come get you for breakfast." Ren groaned. He felt exhausted. Hadn't they just kissed one another for almost an hour straight? Their muzzles were still wet with sweat, saliva, and cum, and Ren wasn't eager to taste the remnants of their session so soon after it was finished. But he didn't have a choice. He opened his mouth, and the panther mercifully took the lead, and it was much more gentle than before.

"Good boys," Lionel said as he slipped his sneakers back onto his footpaws. "I'm going to want my feet worshiped again, so I think I'll take another quick run before we eat. You two get some good practice in while I'm gone, okay?" The two slaves pulled apart to say 'yes, sir' before bringing their mouths together again. "Good. Oh, and Catnip? Don't lick up that cum on his face. I want him to stay messy for later." With a little salute and a grin, the lion turned to leave, whistling as he sauntered into the hallway and out of sight.

Ren sat there, doing nothing as the panther continued making out with him. It was easier that way. He felt too defeated to think, and it took him a second to realize that the panther had stopped kissing him.

"Hey," he whispered. "How are you holding up?" He was doing something odd with his face as he spoke, tilting his head sensually and letting out a little moan.

"I..." Ren found he had no idea how to answer this.

"My name's Dio," whispered the panther, who kept doing his strange movements beside Ren's muzzle. "He left the door open," Dio explained, seeing the otter's questioning look. "Anyone could come by. Got to make it look like we're still making out."

"Oh," Ren said. "Should I?"

"No," said the panther firmly. "You've been through enough this morning. Let me take one for the team. You just relax, okay? What's your name?"

"Thanks," said Ren, smiling shakily in spite of himself. "I'm Ren."

"It's nice to meet you, Ren," Dio whispered into the otter's ear as he gave another moan. But when he looked at Ren again, his face was flat, not a hint of arousal in his expression. "Have to make it look good for them," he said with a wink. "They think I'm this obedient slut, but that's only when they're around."

Hearing someone say his name instead of 'fuckmeat' or 'otter boy' felt a lot better than he could have imagined, and he felt stronger with every word Dio said to him. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't make any words come out, just like he hadn't been able to when Lionel was humiliating them.

"It's okay," said Dio sympathetically. "The first few days are always the hardest. Try not to let them get to you. We'll get out of here one day, trust me." The panther's voice was deep and calming, and because of this he had no trouble believing Dio's words. Ren could feel the panther's arms around him in an embrace that seemed like it wasn't just part of the bondage into which Lionel had put them. Ren squeezed back. He hadn't noticed how strong the panther's muscles were until now.

"Listen, we'll talk more when we have some time alone. The other slaves and I will show you the ropes. They're good guys. Just be careful... not everyone's slaves are as tight-knit as we are. You did a really great job following my lead just now with Lionel. If you can do what I do when they take us to breakfast you should be fine. Lowen and Lionel are both some of the more lenient masters; just do what they say and worship them and they shouldn't punish you that bad."

"How many masters are there?" Ren asked, his head swimming with the rules of this backwards new life.

"Seven. Start thinking about what each one likes and dislikes. That's what I had to learn when I was first captured. For instance, when we go down to breakfast, make sure you only call Slithar 'master.' The others should always be 'sir.' It changes up when Slithar's not around but he's definitely the top master here."

Ren nodded. "And Slithar's our... our owner?"

"Yes. He's not like Lionel... there's not much of a sense of humor there. Just always be on your best behavior. He's the only one that does the slave ranking thing, and he takes it very seriously. I'm number 1, so make sure you don't crawl ahead of me or answer before I do if he asks us both a question. I would be very surprised if he doesn't punish us both while we're down there... just remember that it's not a reflection on you and that he will punish anyone if he's in the mood for it. Don't let them decide your self-worth. They just want to get off and mistreating us does that for them. This life's not unbearable if you remember that, okay?"

"O-okay," Ren said. This was a little harder to believe than the notion that they'd escape one day, but he was just glad to find someone in the dungeon he could trust. "Um..." He had a question to which he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. "Have you heard anything about my friend Satch? He's a horse. He was captured... with me." He couldn't bring himself to say 'because of me.'

Dio looked at him sympathetically. "I haven't... but if he's a horse he's probably been taken to Xavier. He's got a thing for stallions. I'm sure he's okay. The masters want to keep everyone alive, and Slithar's rich enough that no one ever gets hurt really bad."

Neither of them spoke for a bit after this. Before Ren could think of anything else to ask, there was the sound of a door opening in the distance, along with some voices, one of them booming with laughter. Dio gave a start. "Quick--someone's coming!" he whispered urgently. "Back to it!"

Ren didn't recognize the voice, but there was no mistaking that someone laughing down here could be anything except a master. Dio stopped pretending to make out with him to open his mouth and actually poke his tongue out to touch the otter's lips, and Ren followed suit. As his tongue met Dio's once more, he was aware of a new ache, this time in his caged cock. He could feel the panther's cock, which was still erect between his ass cheeks, but this didn't bother him as much as it had earlier. His arms squeezed Dio's strong body, and he couldn't help but rub himself a bit against the panther's erection, a whimper escaping from his muzzle into Dio's as their tongues lapped at one another, the sound a little less humiliated than it had been earlier.