FSE

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When I came back to the basement sub area, Jesse was still. He was still breathing, blood had calloused over the wounds on his chest and it dragged in and out slow breaths. His face was leaky and dark and still bruised but he smelled better. He'd pissed himself, I noticed, and that reek was about the air of the room. The walls were not too wide apart and were busy with dark shelves that were busy with instruments of torture. I needed to tear down these shelves. These shelves were for consenting members. I needed to get a chest for my toys that I didn't keep in this room, and I needed to put in a little bed on the platform for Jesse that I could slide the straps through or over. Constantly sleeping on a cold platform wasn't good for his body, but then again this constant torture and collaring wasn't either. Eh, it would feel more like I had a real pet. Maybe after a while I wouldn't need to lock him in, hopefully I would have him truly broken in a few months.

I didn't turn on the lights, but the light from the basement behind us that was streaming through the door was enough to see by. His stomach was flat and i could hear it grumbling. Damnit, I actually had to feed him didn't I. Maybe even take him to the restroom. I had a stash of MREs that I could take one or two out of, at least for now. Eventually I'd have to begin cooking a little extra for him. My stash of MREs was for emergencies. If a disaster happened while I still had Jesse, I could just quarter him and eat him. Maybe. If I fed him well enough I could probably live off him for a day or four.

His piss had spilled over the sides of the platform and seeped through the drain on the floor, and there was a cold puddle of it around his groin. Damnit, I just cleaned him too. Maybe after I fell asleep and woke up again I'd clean him up....

...I took a few steps to him, stroking his still face with a sleepy pawing hand. He could wait for food, in the same regard that I didn't want to wait for sleep. I loved having him, possessing him like this. I looked at my little room -- if he was going to stay here I'd have to make it more habitable, I might give him a little twin sized mattress and some crayons and books or something, sweet little things that he'll earn for more and more submission. But first the breaking of the toy. First the breaking. All other gratuities and playthings will show up in time. I ran my fingers through his hair, wanting to rip it out and slam his head against the platform, but not doing it. I just wasn't in the mood to see it through.

Sunlight greeted me again as I woke up in the confines of my comfortable bedroom, the large master bedroom blushing with the color red, draped from the curtains, painted into the walls. Like blood. Like lust. I breathed inside of it and tugged myself from my bed once more, pulling on some jeans and a leather vest that kept my breasts exposed, my morning wood leaking pre as it stuck from my undone button and zipper. I wanted to be be scarier this morning. Jesse would look at me and feel scared. That... I thought, or he wouldn't look at me at all, have him blindfolded. It didn't matter either way. I thumped out of my bedroom down the stairs and into his room. His concrete cage.

He smelled like piss still, the room stinking of its acrid scent and the light buzzed on as I flicked the switch on the wall by the door. As i began to unhook him from the platform and take up his leash and collar he began to stir, his breath hitching and getting panicky and his eyes darting around, looking everywhere but at what was happening, that or at my hands. His hair pulled taut on his scalp as I gripped a chunk of it and bringing it close to my face, husking "Hello there, pet. How should you greet me in the morning?"

His brain was a computer booting up as he lost his words, whimpering out something unintelligible.

"What was that." Harder I tugged on his hair, our snouts mushing together in a parody of a romantic gesture.

"I-I said good morning, ma'am!"

"That's better." I smooched his lips, forcing my tongue into his foul tasting mouth. He tried to pull away and squealed, yelping from the pain as I kept him in place. And the he tried biting down on my tongue...

He got a swift bust in the cheek for that one, pulling my tongue out of his mouth and tasting a little bit of blood, and the bust was with enough force to leave a sizable bruise on the side of his face. He was kept in place again by his gripped hair. I felt angry enough to to do it again and my fist collided with his cheek once more. He yelped both times, his voice caught in his throat and interrupted on the way out. Sobs began to fall from his face, and I chuckled at him, a cruel cold sound.

"And I thought you wanted to eat this morning."

"No no, please, mistress, ma'am, please I'm sorry, please let me eat, please I'm so hungry." He begged with a weak voice, dripping with regret. His cheek was pink with popped blood vessels preparing to bloom into a bruise. I tugged back on his hair, yanking him back down to the plat form and I tied down his hands again. I hadn't yet undone his feet. He choked out sobs and indiscipherable begging noises. A "please" or a "food" could be distinguished from the rest of the jumble of teary words. Liquid leaked from his fluttering wet eyes. A plan solidified in my mind. I needed him to eat if I wanted my pet to remain healthy and I could get him to earn it.

"Prove that you're sorry. Prove that you want to eat." My long legs fell over the platform as I straddled his chest, my heavy scrotum it ting on his belly, and my ass crushing his naked pelvis. He winced, oofing underneath my weitght and I bounced a little bit to make m wince even more. His face filled with contorting pain, and filled my body with lust. My tits dangled, and my leather was getting hot so I stripped it from my fur, exposing my full breasts to him, and my cock sat at attention. I fell onto him, putting my weight on my toys bruised face with a single huge hand that absolutely swallowed his head, like a baseball. Little teary eyes beaded through the gaps between my fingers and he snivelled for me like I was playing him like an instrument. He was my bitch. "How are you going to prove it to me, you worthless shit?

"I'll do anything, Miss Anais, please, I'll do anything you want me to do.." That was the response I wanted to hear.

"Would you make me cum? Would you drink my piss and not throw up like a little bitch? Would you eat out my sweaty musky asshole? Say you would, you know you would for food. To survive. Otherwise I'll starve you, because I own you."

"I would, I would I would, please just let me eat.." He was drooling through my hands, his fur sticking to mine, and his little helpless body shifted under my own, trying to find some comfort that would never come to him. The light of the room was overhead and a cold medical fluorescent and he was buried in my shadow, staring up at me. I kicked off my jeans and I unhooked my panties from my waist and I now sat on his form nude, my muscular asscheeks dominating him, and my genitals and anus inches away from his flaccid cock. I could see his face begin to swell. His binds were undone just enough for him to sit up and I tugged him by s head to my musky cock, pressing his lips to the black dripping tip.

"Here, little slut. You can start by making me cum, now open wide." He did so, his drooling mouth opening wide to take in my cock and he shuddered with fear and disgust as the tip entered, then more and more until he was breathlessly sobbing, his throats contractions doing nothing but bringing me pleasure. My cock dominated every inch of breathing room his esophagus could afford, and I moaned into the sensation. He tightened around me, trying to breathe but failing and I pulled his head off of me, my tip sitting comfortably within the confines of his mouth. He gasps for breath, before I pull his head back into it, his little throat straining against my cock and squeezing out the pleasure. Pulling it from my bones and bring in it to my mouth in moans. He sobbed under my dominating mass of muscle and voluptuousity.

This was a procession, this forced in and out, the gasps for breath in between the sobbing tugs of his throat, all making the soles of my feet hot, my face blushed and my legs tensing. I was thrusting as much as I was tuggin on his scalp and using his crying face. His eyes looked hollow and I fantasized about gouging one out in order to skullfuck him. I wasn't qualified to do it however and it might get infected and I couldn't handle that.

I was getting closer to orgasm, and I think he began to bob as to not have me force him down my girth and length. Noise of him gasping and squealing with each thrust floated up to my ears and brought me even closer. I began to squirt. I was gripping the platform with one hand and fucking his mouth with another hand and I gave a few more collisions of his mouth and my groin as I began to orgasm inside of his mouth. A few more thrusts, seeing the orgasm to finish, as my entire body leaked with pleasure and cum gushed out of my cock over and over and over, filling his mouth and throat and swallowed like a good little slut.

As I pulled my cock from from his mouth, some dribbled out of his maw onto his scratched chest and I squirted a few more times onto his face, wiping my dick over his bruised cheek. As I released his hair, his face thudded back down onto the platform and he began to cry even harder.

"You know what's next, pet, are you ready to drink my piss?" I could feel my bladder, not too full but full enough. "I don't want to have to hold your head in place any more." His hands strained, wanting to reach for his injured, bruised head and face. I had ripped out more than a few hairs of his. He nodded subserviently, pulling himself up by holding my thighs and taking a deep breath before reaching out to take my cock in his small hands, wrapping his child fingers around it and sucking on the tip, and he looked down at the poofy dark fur surrounding my groin. My signature line: "Look into my eyes." As always, I needed him here. I needed him with me, in my presence, with my dick in his mouth, not off in some lala land.

My urine began to drip, then spew from my urethera. There was an immidiate physical reaction on his part, his face scrunching up, his eyes fluttering and glossing over, his body straining, wanting to get away. His hands and face betrayed his instincts and the bitter fluid filled his mouth. He swallowed, like a good little slut, again, and again. He was nauseuous, I could see it. His whines were audible through the forced gulps of the the terrible yellowish fluid. Eventually the stream came to a stop. "Don't you dare spit, you swallow that bad taste in your mouth or you won't eat at all." I commanded as I tugged my cock free from his face. His did as I asked, swallowing the bad taste, that excess saliva your mouth produced to get rid of funk. His eyes fell away from my own and I made him look me in the eyes again, tapping his bruised cheek with an open hand, like a feather slap.

A hollow, abused look came from his eyes, a look that I savored.

"Next, do you need a break." This was a test, to see how bad he wanted the food. If he really wanted it he would take whatever came with minimal hesitation. He shook his head no. "That's good, you don't want to know what would've happened to you if you told me you needed a break." I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "you would've not eaten for a day or two. You passed, little idiot."

Within seconds I had flipped myself around onto his face, my anus squarely over his mouth. I didn't need to ask, his tongue popped out of his mouth and began to lap at my musky sitting smelly hole. He was forced to take it, my asscheeks enveloping both sides of his face and head and my knees right next to his head. I was putting a significant amount of weight on on his face. My pussy drooled over his head, my arousal showing true, and his warm tongue intruding and cleaning my most intimate parts. I moaned aloud at the sensation of such a warm, small, wet, and unwilling tongue lapping at my asshole. "Deeper, I want your tongue inside me." And in it slipped in, penetrating the tight brown hole by what I assumed was sheer motivation for survival and it entered, his long deer tongue circling around my anal cavity. I didn't do an enema this morning, I haven't done one in years and I could only imagine what he was tasting down there. "And don't you hurl. Don't you dare throw up, if you do you won't get food for three more days." That was enough motivation to swallow it if it came up. He was still crying, but it had softened.

I kept him like this, this state of being buried between my muscular asscheeks and deep inside my hole, for a long time. I rode his bruised face, making him wince, and as much as I wanted to gas him, no gas came. Eventually his licks slowed to a weak sliding of his tongue along the inside of my hole and his warm breath was humid on my fur. His head was buried underneath my tail. I was hard again, but didn't need or want to cum. His tongue slid out of me as I sat up, my legs coming off of the platform into a shaky standing position. That tongue felt good though. His face was bruised underneath me, swollen and wet with his saliva and tears and his jaw sat open, the muscles tense in his face and his eyes looking at me, trying desperately to predict my next move.

It wasn't too unpredictable -- his straps were undone, his leash hooked around his throat and he was tugged to the floor. As his hands were undone, they instinctively went to his face, but when he stood on the floor, he stood on his feet and continued to hold his face, looking lost and hurt. I snapped my fingers and growled "On your hands and knees, now! Little idiot, what makes you think you earned the right to walk after what you did." I could still taste the blood in my mouth. He submitted, his naked form collapsing to the floor with a "yes ma'am," and his leash came up short to my hand, almost no slack. I kicked him firmly between the cheeks, getting him right in the periniuem with the force of my kick and demanded "Crawl, pet."

He submitted to me, cracking along the floor and shuffling his weight from knee to knee and moving at the pace that I tugged him along. He shuffled through the basement and up the stairs and to the kitchen, nude, ashamed. He coughed and sputtered whenever I would tug on his collar, and it was a cute noise so I made sure to do it often. My cock flopped around, my heavy testicles in my scrotum attached to it and equally as free to frollick around with each step I took. It took us a minute or two but we go there.

I stood before him, tall and terrifying with a wicked grin that he hated looking at. My toe touched his chin as the kitchen stood around us, filled with food he'd need to beg to get. He looked me in the eye, a sad, pathetic look, and I told him "Beg." As I reached in the cabinet above the fridge to retrieve the MREs and a spare dog bowl. I held them in each hand like some hieroglyph and his mouth drooled freely as he begged.

"Please, please mistress. Please let me eat, I'm so hungry. Ma'am please let me have the food, I'll do anything." His voice was weak.

"And what makes you think you deserve it? I could just take it away right now." He looked down, hurt and ashamed.

"...I don't deserve it mistress." I chuckled a hard chuckle at that. He was figuring me out, he knew that was one of the few responses that would get him food. I hocked up a ball of spit and it landed in his hair.

"That's exactly right, you worthless shit. You don't deserve a single thing from me. But you'll get this food. You served me well downstairs." I sliced open the sliver bag of the MRE and it fell into the equally silver dog bowl, and it clanked onto the floor. I yanked him away from it before he could lunge into it and he whimpered like an actual fucking dog. How cute. Another dog bowl was filled with water and I set them down beside each other. "Now you may feed, pet." His face was soon a mess of cold MRE and water. Tears dripped from his eyes as he voraciously devoured the meal.

I spit on him again to see how he would react.

He didn't...