FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

To have stumbled upon a Nova Class Light Frigate had perhaps been the discovery that defined his time. The lithe aquamarine blue dragon from the void of space high above had been most surprised when one morning his navigation probes had reported ship transponder information back to the sensor hub. Cautious, he had watched the ship vicariously through the drones for weeks without seeing so much as it making a single heading or course adjustment. One could never be too careful with ships found on sensors in the modern day, especially ones that looked abandoned, any number of even Navy vessels had fallen to pirate control when their crews lived out their last days. But as the weeks passed, the ship showed less and less sign of being under anyone's control or being bait for an ambush. Eventually, he had taken SPLINE to investigate personally and found the vessel as abandoned as the sensors had made out. Promptly he took control of the ship, and towed it back to orbit of Earth where the dragons and humans lived. Possession of both a WarShip and a TroopShip technically made him the most powerful entity in local space but such thoughts of power and control didn't interest him. He did not need the second ship, while SPLINE was a planetary invasion vessel and not a front line combatant it was still by far the strongest war fighter he had seen since arriving in orbit. The Nova Class was two classes smaller, leading to decreased endurance and making him loathe to transfer his flag, but he still owned the ship, so what was he going to do with it? Reprogramming the drones to act as a crew and make it a proper escort to his ship appealed, but there was more effort in that task than the name suggested, and it would probably get confused the second the light changed on the sensor panels and try to jump back to the Old Capital.

That would be an oops.

Forepaws stretched on the command platform as he eyed the sensor readouts and watched the interfaces tick through reports and other information. Days of adventure ticked back over his mind, remembering the planet with the hollow surface and the ancient structures underneath protected by a magical forest with sight negating qualities. SPLINE had been so difficult to navigate within the rocky crags so high like buildings. The frigate though, he pondered... And thoughts continued to the dragon who had come on that adventure with him, as lucrative and fun as it had been, trapped in a shiny belt to ensure his agreement on salvage rules and teased without mercy because it had been fun to do! Hueroc had only seen his ship once, been on that research station once. He'd like a ship, right? He could go on adventures to, a very short selection of safe systems and a heavily restricted planet selection, he mused in hindsight. And he did so enjoy peering out into space and looking down at the planet below, he could visit other places in the system as well! To give a native command of a WarShip was insanity of the highest order, but there wasn't anyone left to charge him, so gift the ship away he was going to. He wasn't really giving it away, his subconscious rationalized, he would still have complete command and control of the ship from remote and Hueroc didn't know the first thing about how to steal the ship away properly, or anything about the technology so he was completely reliant on him for any knowledge or teaching on its operation.

Now, what was its name again...

He'd said it had been months of hard work to make the ship in any state for dragon to be in, and while that might have been technically true, there was only a very, very remote chance that he'd actually done any hard labour in getting it ready! The signs were all in a language Hueroc didn't understand and couldn't read but each had been subtitled in draconic for him to read, and considering the sheer number of signs actually within the ship that had been an undertaking! In some cases the words didn't exist to translate directly, and the subtitles required an entire extra sign with a description. Flash Control had become 'bright fiery portal travel magic room'. And while the massive gyroscopic object was extremely important in operation and therefore needed to be labeled, he doubted Hueroc would actually need to come inside. Making the ship usable for him had been a question all unto its own requiring a good deal of simulation. It would have been easier to just teach him the language and how to write and speak it and think it by the end of it, but the realization of such fact came much too late in the project's development cycle, leaving him captive to his ideas like so many other things in the world. He had to redesign the ship's offline command line program to act as a translation device between draconic and native tongue, which would order the ship to take specific actions, which had been literal and figurative nightmare. The system wasn't perfect, and it reminded him a little bit of the planet's early adventure games with text interfaces, struggling the language to find the word that would make the thing actually do the thing he wanted, but with a dictionary of usable terms and a syntax manual, he had every single one of the ship's functions tied down with few errors. No chance of accidentally scuttling the ship by the mistroke of a key.

And so, it had been finally done. He gave the tour to a very wide eyed, impressed and in awe red scaled dragon, piled some heavy books and manuals into his paws to study and gave him an in person tutorial on how to use the sensors to detect targets and how to activate the shields and target things for the guns to shoot at (he didn't need to know that he'd pulled all the really big missile ordnance out of the armoury before gifting it) and then how to actually fly the ship from the floating helm, and even dared to show him how to turn off the spatial anchor that put the ship back into the realm of normal physics. Potentially very dangerous, potentially extremely dangerous, but he had very carefully explained to dragon that he should not play around with things without actually studying the materials, and especially not helm systems! With most of the major features explained away, he sought to retire to bed, and having already left a supply of blankets and pillows in Hueroc's cabin, he left Hueroc to scamper about the halls without witnesses and roar and listen to the echoes like he knew the red wanted to, so he left dragon to it! SPLINE called to him and he departed, safe in the knowledge that Hueroc would not need a headband to control the ship like he did!

And scamper Hueroc did, running up and down the metal halls, following the coloured lines painted on the floor to see where they led, and read all the signs and see all the sights. Each false window led to a slightly different angle of the planet, of the stars, of the sun, and once he realized that by touching the screens he could rotate the camera to see even more of the void that was space outside the ship's armoured hull it was even more of an adventure. The hallways were a little cramped but they were plenty big enough for a single dragon of his size, which really put the sheer expanse of this vessel into perspective, larger than any human building by an order of magnitude and dragon had said that this was the smallest class of ship! Incredible! It was a little slippery in places where the changes in deck material towards the middle didn't grip as well, and his scampering and clattering claws took him straight into a wall despite his best efforts to slide and stop, but he hadn't even dented the walls, so it was very dragon proof! He had been told it was fireproof as well, but also warned that fire would lock him in a room, spray him with foam and send drones to harry and harass him, and while in some moods that might've sounded like a good idea, he wasn't so eager to try it on the very first day of owning his brand new spaceship! There were adventures to get up to, new planets to see, and many, many, many, many, many shinies to collect and amass inside the very large cargo bays, so he followed the lines on the floor, down the stairs, then down again to the bottom deck and walked into the map room to see all the planets!

There were... not as many as Hueroc expected to see. Not even a hint of where dragon had come from, or where he had been, or where his adventures before Earth had taken him, there wasn't even a hint of any records! While slightly off putting, there were planets to explore, and he could always ask about them later! Just... six or seven different stars surrounding the Sun Star... Was the map just zoomed in too much, he knew there were a lot more stars than that! There were, hundreds, thousands, millions_of them out there, there had to be more planets than just twenty-eight! Claws fiddled to bring a hastily plugged in keyboard towards him that would give him access to the command line dragon had showed him, settling it on the paw rest beneath the buttons and levers and dials. Zoom... Out, he clacked on the noisy keys, carefully hunting out and pecking each symbol. It beeped at him, and flashed in strange characters in the language he didn't understand. How could he read what it was trying to say, didn't dragon make it so he could understand it? He tried again, it was so simple, surely he didn't need a manual to make the map larger to see the other planets on the map, but instead of doing that, a buzzing alarm sounded through the air! Like a buzzer but more electronic and with longer tones that seemed to shake the air and his scales. The lights all flashed to a blue shade and the door he'd come through shut tight! Snout perked, that... wasn't supposed to happen? The holographic display screen flashed to nothingness, giving him just a view of the bulkhead through orange hexagons, then flashing up warning messages in words he couldn't read that looked very bad indeed! Worse, was that the roof had opened up and a _turret had come down from the slot in the ceiling and aimed right at him! He understood the principle of weapons well enough to know what was about to happen, but just as his eyes were about to close, it retracted back into the ceiling with more words from the not-understandable computer!The hatch retracted shut over the weapon and more opened to replace it though much slower, so he tried to clack a command into the keyboard to turn the ship off alert, dragon had shown him how to alert and de-alert the ship to turn off the weapons but it didn't work! It just flashed more strange text he couldn't understand at him, and in frustration he flung his paws at the buttons and levers with a roar! Stupid spaceship, it was him, its owner! Stop being so noisy and show him the map again!

The ship disagreed.

Upset with its owner for some unknown transgression, robotic arms lowered from the ceiling and snapped their strength and claws around his left forepaw, bringing a sharp yelp from his red snout! What-- A mitten. It had forced a thick, rubber-like mitten around his right fore, digits balled into a useless fist with his claws well unable to so much as rub their tips against anything, and digits unable to wriggle. The bottom of the mitt around his ankle had an inbuilt locking mechanism, with a glowing red light on it, covered in the strange rubber material but definitely steel or something underneath, it was very tight, and very strict! The arm let go and the heavy mitt thudded off the metal console, drawing his attention upwards to it, to breath fire at it and snap at it! ROAR!. Just like the ship had expected, just like it seemed to have been programmed._His open, flame ready snarling snout was completely vulnerable to the thick cockgag that filled the parted muzzle completely with a shove that was humiliatingly easy to complete, sealing the face of a thick rubber-like hood to his snout, around his snout, over his head, horns, everywhere! The hood pulled tight to his head before he even realized what was happening, an identical lock to his paw mitten sealing over his collar and locking shut, hissing air as it pulled _tight to his scales, leaving not a millimeter of gap, leaving an impression of his snout to the outside world, complete with a bulge where his mouth was where the heavy gag sat, with just tiny little red dots to the outside world to show what kind of dragon was hidden underneath. And how the dragon beneath complained! "mmnhhff, nnmhf, mmnnnnnfff!" Hueroc argued, shouted, growled, little more than unintelligible sounds.

Colours started to flash in front of his eyes, just the barest millimeter from his eyelids, forced open, held open by the tightness of the hood, and prevented from being dried out. Blinking no longer required and not even an option, it was loading something... Like a computer starting, his very advanced and equally as inescapable hood seemed to be preparing something for him. He could feel the arms descend around his body, a mitten adjusting to force around his other forepaw, a cold, really, very_cold_ metal belt settling over his hips and buckles and bits being adjusted while an equally cold and slippery lubricated plug was shifted beneath his tail, leaving no doubt what was coming next if only he was unhooded to see it! A message flashed in front of his eyes, all but inside his eyes and flashed into his mind from its intensity.

IUN 099 BRAVERY

Nova Class Light Frigate.

Beginning Interrogation Program...

What?! No, it needed to let him out not interrogate him! The spaceship needed to remember who owned it--and how was he going to answer any questions with this massive gag in anyway! He complained in many, many useless mmnhf, nhmmmfs! It did not need to-- "ahnnmmmf, hhff, hffff, hmmmffff...!" he gasped as big, difficult to take smooth plug slipped into him, as the tight and strict metal belt was locked on, unable to properly focus on either, unable to divide his already strained attention between the difficult strain of the toy being pushed undertail, the tight strictness of the mittens hooking on raised buttons and sticking up levers and the console itself, the clatter of keyboard sliding off the console and hanging in the air from its thick connector cable. He had to get out of here--but the door had shut when the alarms and lights went off, and without his claws he could not press on the recessed button to get it open, not without help..! The robotic claws outpaced him and out-ranged him, and he was so blind and helpless so attempted mitten bats were not working other than to bump against them uselessly. And such little bumps did not a little, they did nothing at all to slow the machines as they set upon him once more, after having reloaded their supply of spaceship restraints! It should not have surprised Hueroc that a ship that dragon owned was full of dragon bondage, but it still did, more so when it seemed to be _so_specialized and tormenting! The plug and belt were absolutely not necessary to bind him, even if the cockgag made his every muffle totally beyond comprehension and every swallow of his drool utterly humiliating, even if every struggle to get the mittens off his body shifted the heavy plug about within him, making his belt very tight, his shaft start to ache as it tried to get hard within the restrictive and utterly unyielding steel.

"Nnmmhf, llmnnf mnnnhffffff!" Hueroc cried out, to which the ship continued to show no mercy. The light in his eyes was practically blinding and there was no respite from such offensive shades, the text all but burned into memory by this point, never changing and never moving, creating untold disorientation regarding his position and stance. No matter how he flung his snout around, it never even remotely shifted, never became more or less clear and he couldn't even blink, the sensation and biological need to driving further points to divide his attention, preventing any form of considered or focused effort to get free. Which suited the robotic ship arms just fine, one of the clawed appendages settling upon right wing and pressing it down to his back with an insistent soft force that would not be denied by the muscles designed for flight and not for outright opposed strength. Membranes held in place against his back were easy pickings for the other two which worked together to feed leading and trailing edges into a roll of material much like hood, faux phallic gag and mittens around his wings. More than any bag, the material was picked and prodded and pushed and interspersed between each fold of wing and muscle and bone and scale, sticking them together through air pressure! So strange a feeling, utterly bizarre but in the end it was just like any other wing sack, forcing them together, pressed down against his back, with straps that followed over and around his forward shoulders, crisscrossing back around his chest and then to the former trailing edges with the feeling of complete and total security and structure. "Ahnnnnnmmmhf!" he complained once again, he pleaded , the feeling of such pressure above and below Hueroc's wings triggered flight instincts making the muscles twitch in preparation, only to pull the constriction around his his chest, but--

Also applying pressure to his fores, pushing him to the ground each time the strong back muscles flexed to wing shoulders to force a movement. Without vision, without a sense to rely on, he could only guess some sort of linking security strap was also locked, magnetized, _somehow_linked to the cuffs around his fores, "Fmmnnh!" came the startled realization that in all the excitement his fore mittens had also become forepaw cuffs, locking the links together and leaving him barely able to move. Hop. Hop. Leaning weight back to his hinds and tail and hopping briefly to move, to turn away from the computer blinded by the impossibly bright light that was his vision now, his eyes just conduits for whatever the cameras and strange screens that held his senses captive decided to show him. Was this still preparation, or had it begun interrogating him? When would dragon realize that something was wrong and come to rescue him! Or was this another of his games, his science, whatever it was that made him do all of these things to him and Adhara! Growls, shouts and a slap of tail onto hard metal floor were all muffled, swallowed up by the not-latex! Even his tail, dangerous in wide swings and useful for crashing metal arms out of the way and breaking drones and other vital ship components, was grasped by the very arms it sought to defeat in the dark like a hatchling lifted into the air by the scruff of his neck. "...mmf..." came the humiliated, almost defeated sound that rose around the saliva slickened gag, rising of his red tail against shifting body weight forward, collapsing fores and lifting hinds to full extension, tail twisted to one side and leaving his awkwardly crouched-in-mating-pose body wobbling dangerously on the edge of balance. Muscles strained to straighten, fight his tail free, but all he managed was to brush the ceiling and deck above.

Eyes rolled in his sockets, but the screen was everywhere. There was no escape from the bold text. Red scales and muscles built for agility _quivered_from the position. The joints of his fores now rested upon the cold textured floor while outstretched hinds took the rest of his weight. Somewhere along his constricted chest there was a stretch of muscles, the same along the backs of his hindlegs. "mmmmnnnhhh..." he groaned, did it expect him to stand like this for long? He wanted to be out, the quivering of his body was like a vibrator pressed against the base of the plug and his belt, constantly grinding and the urge to do it himself in the hopes that it might somehow allow him to get hard, get to cum from the stimulation while he had the chance. Overwhelming didn't even begin to describe the stimulation, the situation, the scenario. Quiver. Shake. Shudder. And then, came the thunk of a few tonnes of dragon onto the deck plating, falling onto his side, tail still held in the air serving to control his fall to leave him exposed aplenty to the continued ministrations of the device. As if proud of its prey, the ship seemed to have little intention of moving him, deciding that map room sealed shut, with tight bondage applied, was secure enough to keep an intruder, which he protested as vehemently as it was a waste of time and effort to do so! His "mmnhhff, lmm mffff ahnnnfffmmnn!"s were as helpless sounding as the rest of him sounded, tongue trapped down against the bottom of his jaws and drool building at the bottom of the tightly fitted gag, in that tiny gap between knot of gag and his scaled lips. He was convinced by the inescapability of the predicament but every moment spent sucking drool off the phallic gag, every quiver and clench and grind of his body around that huge plug and each ache of his trapped cock on steel belt, it all convinced him more and more that he needed to get free, but--! He couldn't even find purchase to slip himself even the slightest bit free! The bondage on its own was so tight and strict and then it was bound to itself as well all across his body in bits and pieces he couldn't even see or begin to realize in his current state!

Program Loaded.

The display had not changed in what felt like so long that he had not even realized. The strain of the big plug and the big gag and how tight and strict his belt felt strove to occupy every single last bit of his attention that only a confused "mmnf, hhfnmmmf..!" escaped his snout at the realization, barely remembering what it had said in the first place despite having been staring at it without relief, without being so much as able to blink his eyes, the most very basic of functions denied to him by the ship's futuristic bondage! Strain, tug, pull, muffle, gasp, suckle, grind, he could do no more to relieve the strain or the struggle or the utter desperation his body put into any of the four terribly restraining, utterly strict components of the ship's restraint. There was a release mechanism, eyes had briefly seen the little red diode on his locks before being hooded but even if his balled up useless digits could reach them he didn't recall a switch or a dial or anything,"mmmmmnnnn!" he could use! The bright white white screen that had burned his eyes changed once more, now that he had seen it, recognized the change, that was when it changed once more. Like it were being typed to him by another dragon all the way across the world on a keyboard, thickset bold text in all capital letters appearing one at a time. The pace was not steady like he would have expected a computer to be but Hueroc has also not expected his own ship to kidnap him and force such tight bondage all over him, stuff him with humiliating phallic toys and deny him even a simple erection! And how that ached, from the strain, the thick gag filling his maw and swallowing up ever--

Focus your attention on screen.

He snarled, or at least attempted to! The knotted and decidedly undraconic shape between his lips didn't allow much more than a quivering moan which was not scary in the slightest! He didn't even have a choice, no matter how his eyes turned the bright white display of the strange hood screen was always there to meet him, never being able to escape it, never being able to avoid it, not able to misplace it for a moment because he could not even blink. How was he supposed to do anything different? He might have been forced to look at the screen, but that didn't mean he had to pay it any attention. Definitely, the red scaled helpless dragon focused on every other aspect of the situation. The ache in his straining cock, the way the plug pressed beneath his tail, how tight the mittens were, and how it shoc-- Yelp! A little shock, sharp and instant, driving up through that trapped-in-by-belt plug into his muscles, driving a shudder from each and every muscle, a pulse of his trapped by steel cock, pinned by unyielding steel which made him ache beyond measure, powerless, unable to get even the slightest bit hard within his own slit no matter how the pre dribbled from him. The text disappeared only to return, with a pulsing of the white around the black which made his eyelids try to retract against the adhesive, made his snout dip trying to look away.

Focus. Your attention. On screen.

Dragons were well renowned for their ability to have patience and resistance but a second shock was all the ship needed to show Hueroc that this kind of resistance was just as useless as it was utterly humiliating. All he had to focus on was the harsh and strict restraint that took every ounce of his body from him, every digit and muscle and movement, leaving him with tail up, hindlegs splayed and forepaws together in a terrible approximation of a mating crouch. He expected the shock to come from deep in his undertail but it came from his jaws, the phallic not-dragon cockgag, not just a shock but a jolt that made his teeth rattle and his eyes fuzz up, the text growing unclear. The taste of not-rubber became more and more overwhelming in fractions of a single second until he could taste nothing anymore, not his own drool, not his teeth and not his own flesh. He could feel nothing, not the gag, not his jaws, his tongue trapped beneath the thick gag seemed coated in the same substance that held him as a useless prisoner. The shock continued down, buzzing which sharp muscle sensations that cowled his snout and his neck down like a strong muscle twitch early in the morning! His snout bounced gently off of his mittened forepaws but it did not come back up, his neck arched and now it seemed stuck there, another piece of restraint. Not only could his neck no longer move, now his fores could not either, no matter the struggle, the force he "Hmmnnf, mmnn, lmmff!" put into struggling free, now his forelimbs were worse than useless, they couldn't move, beyond strict, it was impossible!

Focus.

Your.

Attention.

On.

Screen.

Each word of the phrase flashed up with an increasing intensity of the screen flickering to which his snout and head could now take no further action to avoid the feeling of his brain and muscles being forcefully twitched and shook by the light! It got worse, it was unavoidable, it was inescapable and he could no longer resist it. "...hmmfmnmmnnnhh...!" He could not tell the spaceship that he would listen, that he would _obey_what it wanted, and he couldn't stand to look and pay attention at the way it flashed against his eyes and his muscles struggled and yanked and pulled and pried and he fought and yanked and howled around the thick gag, there was nothing he could do and he just wanted it to stop..!

"Mmnhhhfffffffffffffff mmnhfff! Mnhhhhhfffff!" Hueroc howled.

No escape was forthcoming. No bind loosened. He was trapped. His eyes were trapped. His head was trapped. His forepaws were trapped. His tongue was trapped. His cock was trapped. His digits were trapped. His tail was trapped. The flashing bore at his eyes and his trapped muscles and left him straining and struggling like the hardest run of his life without being able to move so much as a muscle, a predicament from which there was no escape.

There is no escape.

The flashing had stopped, leaving plain bold and capital text before his vision no matter which way his eyes calming down from panic could rotate within their sockets. Was... was it done? He wouldn't disobey again, just not that again--!

Will you focus on screen?

A question, the first time the computer or the ship or whatever hostile intelligence had him trapped and as a prisoner, a _victim_had asked him a question, it should have asked him if he belonged here, if he was actually the owner of this ship and not someone that it should be tormenting and torturing! His forepaws twitched and pulled against their shackles and red snout covered in thick black was not drawn with them, rather he found that his head rest on the deck plating, smooth metal instead of his forepaws shackled, bound and powerless. He could move his snout and neck again, and while not having moved for so long made him stiff, almost painful he nodded, it was all he could do, to nod and tell the computer somehow that he didn't need any more shocks or tongue coverings or bright hot flashing lights into his eyes which could not close, it would do what it asked if only it would let him free! He did not belong as a prisoner, dragon needed to come and save him from his ship!

A sound started in his ears, from little speakers with such amazing clarity. Speakers made for computers and designed for human ears were very much not clear enough for dragon ears with their better hearing and much increased auditory range, so when he could not hear the typical sounds of speaker crackling or static humming he was surprised but this was a ship made for dragons so equipment on it would be made _for_dragons! It would have been much, much better had it not been for the fact that the speakers were being used as a way to further his imprisonment and torment. The sound was a strange and very clear tone, tones, there were two, one in each ear that the other could not hear, one after the other in hundredths of a second. Not unpleasant but it made his mind blink even if his eyes could not. It was a hum, a buzzing, a gliding long set of tones out of balance with each other. "Hfmmmmf..." he complained, unable to string together a single word or a phrase to his captor that was not even there, just programming of a computer, he was alone and no one could come to save him. The machine responded to his complaints, his muffled, useless pleading.

Follow the coloured dot.

The text disappeared as quickly as it appeared, a few frames of perfect and imperceptible animation. A coloured dot, circle without any hints of pixels in its design appeared in the top of his vision. Solid black on white. A brief and quick check with his eyes rotating around to see that the dot did not keep its position relative to his vision. Now the rules of it were changing as time went on, now his eyes were looking at a screen fixed around him, that his vision could not avoid, surrounded by light of brilliant white like a sea dragoness he knew, with that single dot of black and lacking colour. While for a moment he could exploration his vision to the world of bright white inside his hood of solid and unyielding black, was permitted to explore, soon the hood took that away from him with a pulse of colours that bore in towards the dot, the retracting wave of visual stimulation which pushed his eyes towards the dot in the centre like a forepaw would push him through a door or into a trap or a portal onto a spaceship as had been the case to get him here in the first place!

And then the dot began to move. Slowly, it moved to the left in a slow moving invisible circle, as if following a line that he could not see. So slow it was easy to track, to follow with his vision, to keep following it with his snout and head and eyes and neck, just like the suit had ordered him to do, at the risk of getting more shocks, or flashes or anything at all if he did anything other than what it asked, and his options were limited indeed! It was a simple task that did not occupy much of his attention span at all, and soon enough, Hueroc's vision began to wander, a little bit off the dot, thoughts straying to his stuffed rump and aching chaste shaft--distracting enough that he stopped tracking it along its circle, but the computer inside his hood connected to the big fat gag ensured that he looked back at it soon enough, his vision redirected by those flashing retracting circles and pulses of black and colour. He could do nothing but look, the machine directed his permanently open eyes to follow, to track and watch.

Therefore, watch he did. Colourful and anxious amber eyes followed the black on white as it made its way around the screen that surrounded him, enveloped him and dominated him, run by a computer he could not see or control or affect in any way, only able to mmnhf and moan in desperation, desperation that fell on deaf ears beyond his own. When his vision wandered, it did not punish him like it had before, it simply flashed in circles to draw him back to the pixels not pixels. Around. And around. And around. His eyes circled, following the device on its trip that had no end. He was aware that it made a perfect circle in transit but his eyes could not, moving in direct angles, straight lines, stopping and starting and being exposed to the shades of directional colour each time the limits of his biology prevented it from happening. The strain of his bondage forever there but in the back of his mind, with the frustration of his belt and plug, his gag, and his lack of senses and eyes once blinded by the light now trapped in a hood that was bright of a white as he could ever imagine and following a circle like some kind of eye examination. Around and around he followed while his ears were struck at from both sides by individual tones which interfered with each other and made his head feel fuzzy and his neck feel warm, eyes slowing their movements for a moment when the tones changed patterns, a subtle increase in their pace, the heights of their noises. It did not ask for more of him, just that he stare at the circle within a circle and the subtracting, retracting flashing patterns as his eyes drifted from the dot he tried so hard to follow. Hueroc adjusted his snout, tilting his head with the movement of his eyes, to aide his efforts to keep him more centred, to see less corrections but felt a sense of vertigo like the first time he had tried to fly as a hatchling, the feeling of the world ripped out from under him as he fell from the mountain ledge until his wings took over and sent him into flying in the wide open sky. He couldn't move his snout and not because it was bound by anything more than his sense of direction and facing, internal compass in a ruined state, incapable of functioning beneath such harsh and utterly tight restraint.

The dot is descending.

The text appeared right above it, as it began to alter its colour, from black to grey, rolling from the top down to the bottom, a shade of black replacing the grey soon after, like the flows of an ocean onto a beach. Letter by letter the words caught his attention as he stared at the device just below on its lazy counter-clockwise journey. He could imagine the whole set up, watch his head in imagination from the outside in, that smooth hood compressed around his snout with a bulge between his jaws where the lewd phallic shape sat, head tilting down to watch what the screen wanted and his hinds rolling on the plug, cuffed fores shifting uneasily, wanting to find better balance but being unable to move more than a handful of millimeters in any direction let alone where he wanted his claws to shift, nowhere near enough to get any momentum to put his strength to use. The dot descended and so did he, slipping into the restraint and slipping into the device's instructions without much of a second thought. He had to keep watching the text and the flashes which overlaid and inverted the tiny coloured text piece by piece.

Resistance is effort.

"...mnh, mnnff, nnnnfm.." Dragon complained, it would not be so difficult if the ship had not kidnapped and bound him so tightly!

Focus.

Read.

It is easy to focus on screen.

Shackles rattled. It was easier to follow the dot and read the words with his unblinking eyes than it was to try and struggle his way out of the bondage which held him tight, humiliated and frustrated, listen to the pure tones humming with an infinitely clear buzzing each of his disguised ear canals, no more able to not hear them in his mind than he was able to stop sucking drool off of his gag or stop gasping for air from the strictness of it all. Escape--

Is not possible.

"..Mnhhff!"

As possible as getting an orgasm.

"hmmnnf mmhf mmmmmf!"

Don't think, sink.

What was tha-- "nnnmmmhhh..!" Bright pulsation of colour washed across what he could see, from all around, compressing down, from the sides, from above, even pulling from below which had his snout recoiling for but a moment.

Questions are hard.

Obedience is easy.

A downward flash, the dot and its text hovering and following above persisted throughout, constantly descending but not really moving, just his perceptions changing based on what he had been told, ordered, lied to, but it was impossible to tell one way or the other with every single sense or ability to deduce ripped away from him and sealed so strictly away. "hnmmf.. mnhf.." The tones and the task and the colours and the way the screen produced its moving patterns blitzed and confused and soothed his mind from the worry and the fear and the anxiety of being tied up and not being able to get free, but not the quivering ache of his trapped shaft and belted hips, steadily grinding on plug and the smooth secure belt of steel which kept him contained. The ship had not stopped him from doing that and it was happening all on its own.

You are sinking to follow the dot.

Hueroc was. He sunk to follow the device on its downward descend and its slow travel, even though the circle was moving upwards half the time it was still down, descending, lowering, sinking, eyes and mind and body following.

You are focusing on the dot.

The dot scrolled its colours downwards, black to grey to black to grey to the black of his thoughts and his mind. He could do nothing but follow the dot. It was so easy to do and so hard to question why. The task was repelling the thoughts that he should_be struggling and he should not be listening and that something bad would happen if he could not escape, if he could not open the clasps or push out the gag or slip his digits out of the thick mittens, that he would not be able to cum with this belt and this thick strain of a plug if he could not get free or _think about how to escape!

Following the dot is easy.

Everything else is so hard.

It was.

You are learning well.

He was. His cock was painfully hard and throbbing within the belt that kept it contained, and no matter how much his slitscales bulged out from being forced to contain his straining length, the belt did not allow him to slip even a millimetre free. He was painfully, achingly hard and unable to escape, each throb, and pulse of blood to his cock another needy pulse of desperate emotion and prayer that he could get just a little bit of himself free of protective slit. A suit black and shiny as his hood had covered over his body without his realization while the screen held his attention so tightly like the rest of his restrained body, seated firmly to red scale and leaving only nostrils behind and the shape of a dragon snout heavily gagged. It had been enough for him to know that struggling was useless and that all he would earn himself is further abuse. The feelings of the plug and of his tight chastity belt weren't bad, just a strain--

The tones changed again, shifting frequencies and all of a sudden they were pressing at a different part of him. He could feel the way the belt contained him in his slit that much more intensely. The plug was much more defined, as was the intrusion between his lips, he could hear his restrained and useless mnh, hnmffs with so much more clarity even over the tones from the hood's speakers. It was suddenly, painfully clear that he was unbearably aroused, and the blooming knowledge was as sudden as the similar realisation that it had come with the changing tones. The rattling of his forepaws shifting against one another and their shackles fell silent, what was left of his attention devoted to the_need_ to get hard, to somehow touch himself, and get off while riding the plug buried beneath his tail, but the bondage prevented him and the screen had not let him so much as try anything more than grind. He knew the belt stopped him from getting even the slightest bit hard, knew that the belt and the bondage and the hood and mittens all conspired and prevented him from getting anywhere near anything that resembled an orgasm. But the plug, and gag, and the strain, and humiliation prevented him from calming down, prevented him from thinking anything other than that if he just tried a little bit harder, maybe somehow he could force his way through, get over that edge, and cum.

You will not orgasm.

A shock, not at all like the ones from gag or toy beneath tail. A blink like someone shouting utter nonsense out of nowhere that had his sluggish thoughts stuttering to a complete and total grinding halt. Too objectionable for his mind to accept so easily as the earlier simple orders to watch the screen, compelled he was to show the false nature of the statement he had just been told, putting his mind to work dissecting each part of the simple and short sentence, using his quivering body as best he could to show that he would do just what the ship's computer had told him he was incapable of doing. Tail gripped but writhing, hips thumping back and forth on the deck plating of the map room, forepaws clenching on nothing , he felt how the strain of the big plug and big gag shifted with each little movement, sending shocks of humiliating pleasure back and forth across his body, how each one made the oppressive ache of the belt more and more unbearable, knowing that he could never flap his wings again or soar in the sky as much as he could... never.. cum... again. Hueroc tried at that moment. He was so sure he was on the edge. He'd never been worked this hard in a belt before with a toy beneath his tail leaning on the most sensitive spots within him, bringing such unbelievable pleasure and with it the sense of utter denial and frustration of an orgasm held in for too long! He was right there, he thought, just another grind, another single sensation away from orgasm, and he had enough to get it, more than enough. He was so certain that he should have cum many, many, many minutes ago from such firm grinds and gasps and moans but, no orgasm came.

It was right.

Reading is easy.

Reading was easy.

Obey.

He did.

You can not orgasm.

"mmnhf, mnh, pllmnnf...!" For only a moment his mind again tried to resist the command before the urge to accept his aching denial and obey the order washed it away. He could not orgasm.

You can not escape.

Hueroc was trapped. He could not escape. There was no escape.

You will sink into trance.

Hueroc gasped softly around his thick, humiliating gag, as his conscious dropped away from him, and he sunk into the depths of hypnotic obedience, incapable of defending himself. The few thoughts that managed to remain did so only because the machine of his hood gently repeated them to the entranced dragon, over and over, so that they could never be forgotten, so that the orders could never be disobeyed. He could not escape. He could not cum, not now, not ever. No matter how hard he tried. No matter how close to the edge he got or how hard he fought. He understood, finally, what the hood explained. He could not escape. He could not cum.

Ever again.

He could only listen. And Obey.

Good

Dragon.