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Slave Camp - Eating Out

The door leading out from the hot tub area opened, and Kerra closed her eyes against the blinding light. Her arms were bound over her head, wrists clasped into manacles hooked to an overhead track. She was at the front of the line, having been forbidden to join the other slaves in the class in the tubs, thanks to a casual command from the first trainer of the day. He'd seen that her mate, Emerson, had ejaculated against her front in the morning and ordered her to wash only every third day, and to get a fresh marking after she did.

It was obvious they knew her vain streak - she took pride in her fur and the condition she kept it in, sleek and glossy without so much as a split end. It was particularly galling to know she was going to be a matted mess most of the time, but she was perceptive enough to understand quite clearly that using her own pride to wear her out was going to be one of their strategies for training her to be a perfect sex slave for her Master and mate. Knowing that end goal, she was trying very hard to be good.

It wasn't easy. Now joining the dried sticky mass on her front was a full load from a stallion who seemed to be on rapid-fire splattered across her rear, then rubbed in and smeared across her fur by her own mate on orders from the trainer in the hot tub room. She could feel the semen drying and making her fur cling, tugging in a light prickle with every step she took. The overilluminated hallways kept her from seeing where she was going, but from her own rumbling gut and the amount of time she guessed had passed so far, she was hoping it was someplace for lunch. She walked along as the overhead track guided her, feeling it turning her.

Emerson was at the back of the line, bound as were all the other slaves with arms high and eyes clamped shut. The negative-pattern cheetah trainer in the hot tub room, named Justice, had ordered him to do her anally and pull out while his knot was still swollen; between that and her selection of a well-endowed stallion as her personal favorite, it was clear to all the slaves she was a total size queen. After he'd finished rubbing Kerra's rear, the cheetah had ordered him back into the tub, where the stallion (dubbed 'Hair Trigger' by the cheetah for his quick release, Trigger for short) had been ordered to clean him up.

As a result, Emerson had been groaning in the tub while the stallion went to work with a washcloth, getting him off and getting him clean at the same time. The cheetah, seemingly insatiable, had taken it upon herself to do the same for the equine. The fox wasn't sure whether he ought to be impressed or amused that Trigger had three snorting, wild-eyed climaxes before Emerson erupted. It had been definitely the best thing he did all morning, though... aside from waking up cuddled to Kerra, anyhow.

The smell of food was getting distinct, and a number of stomachs rumbled in the shuffling line. Kerra's ears perked, though - was there another class of slaves coming in at the same time? Why were those noises coming from off to the side rather than behind her? She tried flicking her tail behind her, and didn't feel a thing. The intense light went away, indicating she'd passed through a doorway, so she opened her eyes, then promptly gave a whimper.

There was no mistaking it - she was in the wings of a stage. And the stagehands were looking awfully grabby.

Emerson opened his eyes once the lights went down to a tolerable level. He saw an odd room; the floor seemed to be made of a smooth plastic set evenly with drains down the middle and a very gentle slope towards them; any fluids spilled in the room would tend towards the middle and be easy to wash away. The room was spacious, but most of the area appeared to be marked off, with a small spot in the middle left open.

No tables or chairs were in the cleared area, though in the marked-off areas trainers, administrative types, and what were probably maintenance men or janitors were sitting at tables, chatting and eating, ignoring the slaves. Emerson found himself marched into one of those open areas, and then the cuffs let his arms loose. He looked around in confusion, as were his fellow Camp attendees - he still hadn't been able to talk with them, so had no idea which, if any, were in his boat of involuntary participation and which, like Kerra, wanted to be there.

At that thought, his tail bristled. Kerra wasn't there. There had been one male earlier who'd been last heard giving a balls-clenching scream, and he wasn't there earlier, leaving their class with twenty-two participants split into three rows, eight in the first two rows and six in the third. Emerson was last on the back row, a reptile-girl in front of him. At the front of the room, heavy curtains hung in a curve suggesting a stage.

A loud voice boomed from hidden speakers. "Slaves! You will remain standing silently, facing the stage, where you will be instructed on mealtime etiquette while you are being trained. Speaking out of turn will be severely punished!"

There were a few minutes of nothing happening, and then the curtains opened, and Emerson had to bite back a call of "Kerra!" She was up on stage, with her arms bound palms to elbows behind her back with a spreader-bar between her ankles. She was bent at the waist with a smirking ram thrusting into her mouth; a blindfold covered her eyes. Master Spots was behind her, holding her long hair tightly to keep her pulled back in one hand and using his other hand to toy with her, thumb neatly tucked into her tight pucker and fingers stroking at her sex.

The ram bucked his hips into Kerra's mouth several times, then grunted and pulled back. Most of his first spurt went into her mouth and over her lips, but the remainder of his ejaculate was spent across her face, followed by a firm reminder that she wasn't allowed to wash that, either, for another two days. She gave a quiet whine at that, then a moan as Master Spots did something the audience couldn't see, the movements of his fingers hidden by her thigh. Then she let out a short, hard gasp followed by another longer moan, dangling chest suddenly heaving in an unmistakeable orgasm.

Then Master Spots pulled her upright and removed the blindfold. Her ear-rims turned crimson as she saw across a cum-sprayed muzzle that she'd just put on a nice little show for not only the other slaves, but all the trainers and other Camp personell. She gave a sharp, surprised cry as Master Spots rapidly brought his thumb out of her rear and masturbated her hard; her back stiffened as another orgasm pounded her almost instantly, the shock and the pre-existing arousal sufficing to send her into a second orgasm, short and intense enough to make her cry out.

Her breasts rose and fell in shock and a sudden bout of terror and embarassment - she hadn't really thought that *this* was how they were going to get her over her stage fright, or whatever one wanted to call a slave's reluctance before groups to obey things she wouldn't mind in private. She couldn't explain why it was different, but it mattered a great deal to her that she'd just obediently sucked off the ram in front of people, more than just her classmates, and been brought off herself in the process.

She trembled, paralyzed, feeling Master Spots holding her exposed body, slowly fingering her still tingling crotch. His erection was rubbing her rear, which some detached part of her mind noted meant he had to be bi, then, since he'd been so giddily happy to take Emerson earlier. The part of her that wasn't glazed over with waves of feeling exposed and humiliated noted that odds were good she and her mate were going to end up having to spend a few nights in his bed. She tried to concentrate on Emerson.

Emerson's cock was so hard it hurt. He knew she had problems with stage fright. But damn, that was hot! He knew just how good his vixen was with that dainty pink tongue and hot little mouth of hers, and he could almost feel it on the spot. Watching her going down on someone else was almost as much of a treat, too, getting to see every twitch of fur and flick of her tongue. And then watching her cum never failed to send a feeling of satisfaction through him, whether or not he'd been the one to induce it... and when Master Spots brought her off a second time in the middle of her shock, the expression on her face of total surprise and pleasure, well, that just made him pant.

Kerra's breath was coming in short, quick breaths, but not for the same reason. Master Spots had nudged her knees and pushed her down to kneel, then quickly unhooked her arms and legs. The ram put down one bowl and two places, the bowl filled with some sort of bready-looking mixture and the plates featuring more traditional fare, sandwiches. The placement was odd, though; the first plate was far out in front, the bowl was at the ram's feet, and the second plate was between Kerra's feet.

The ram was standing just a pace or so in front of Kerra. He knelt down, then went to all fours with his chin just above the plate. His tail flicked high at Kerra, teasingly, and then the dalmatian murmured orders in her ear.

Kerra shook as she lowered her head. Her voice failed her when she tried to speak the words Master Spots had given her; she tried again and again her throat was tight. She couldn't stop looking out at the room, filled with classmates and strangers, all watching her, watching her. Tears suddenly sprang to her eyes and she tried to curl up, sobbing and hiding her head in her arms, feeling the ram's thighs against her ears.

A sudden blossoming of contentment and relaxation washed over her, and she realized that the ram was reaching back to stroke the reddened rims of her ears. She'd put that on the application, too, that she was for whatever reason extremely responsive to that, having her ears stroked around the edges. Through blurry eyes, still whimpering and sniffling, she managed to lift her head up enough to see the ram looking back at her between her legs, reaching down to pet her. In a quiet, reassuring voice she was sure no one else could hear, he murmured to her, "Shhhh, shhhh, it's okay, it's okay... We'll try again tomorrow, it's okay, you couldn't do it, it's okay..."

Not quite hyperventilating, Kerra found herself setting her chin in the bowl as the ram very gently tugged at her ear to guide her to her food. She closed her eyes, still whining, and tried to pretend she wasn't where she was - up on stage, with her head between a trainer's thighs and another trainer waiting behind her, about to do the same to her. It was more the ram's ongoing rubbing of her ears that kept her from breaking down again than her own efforts.

Down in the audience, Emerson was pinned down under the weight of three bulky guards. He'd given a shout and charged at the stage when he saw the tears start, but the camp had been ready, and the three, a dragon and two lions, had gang-tackled him. They'd shifted once Kerra had been partly calmed, letting him see again, but weren't letting him up. In fact, he realized to ear-drooping dismay, judging by the erection in the small of his back, he was about to get punished for his attempt.

Up on stage, Master Spots knelt down behind Kerra. He raised his voice so it could be heard by the slaves, even the squirming, grunting fox now getting a thick draconic shaft worked patiently up under his tail. "Kerra here has a problem with performing for crowds, so she's going to be up here every mealtime until she's gotten used to it. As you can see, she's still very new to it. She was supposed to show you proper slave etiquette. Since she can't, I'll tell you instead." He cleared his throat, then bent down and pressed his nose between Kerra's legs.

Kerra yelped at his cold nose, squirming, but couldn't move. The dalmatian's voice continued. "By your smell, I know you to be a slave, eager and willing." His tongue slid out and ran along her cleft, and he almost chanted, "By your taste, I know you to be a slave, used well at your Master's pleasure." His head lowered, until his lips hovered over the plate, the back of his head rubbing to Kerra's crotch. "By your feel, I know you to be a slave, needy and ready. I invite you to sate the need of your loins against me while I sate the needs of my stomach." He took a bite, then pulled back and stood.

"That is the Meal Litany. You will recite it at each meal without fail before eating anything, on pain of punishment, to remind each other of your servitude and to form bonds of appreciation at being given each other's bodies to relieve your urges with. Those of you in front, you have no one to address, so you may remain quiet. Begin."

The slaves still in their places knelt down, heads going between thighs and each slave repeating Master Spots' words, smell and taste and feel. Emerson grunted as the heavy weight of the guards held him down, the dragon working an unpleasantly large and rather knobbly member into his rear; one lion grumbled, "He's getting off lightly, just one fuck. They're coddling these two!" The other gave a snort of humor and replied, "Who cares?" They'd pulled him back to his place in line, so not only was the dragon straining his tailhole, but that reptile-girl was cheerfully grinding herself on his head, rubbing her feminine fluids into his fur.

At a gesture from Master Spots, the curtains closed. Kerra's body sagged as she heard it move, and looked through blurry eyes. Seeing the stage blocked off, the fear faded rapidly. She felt hands on her hips. "Sorry about that, Kerra," said the ram, letting go of her ear, though not moving his thighs from about her head. "No matter what it might look like from your end, we're here to mold you, not break you - your owner wouldn't be happy getting back a broken slave."

Kerra was sufficiently startled by the frank apology to stop eating, looking up in confusion. She then let out a gasp as she felt Master Spots' hand between her legs again, and the canine took up the thread, stroking her wet sex. "A good Master knows his pet's limits, and we overestimated yours, so you're getting soothed until you're ready to go on, including some open explanations like this. You may finish eating."

Kerra swallowed, lowering her chin into the food dish to let that sink in. It helped - well, that and Master Spots' gentle fingerwork. She took a few moments to get her breathing under control and blink away the last of her tears, then set to finishing lunch, subdued but feeling able to go on. The caresses between her legs, she soon found, were just enough to keep her slowly rolling her hips, and somehow the coital rhythm made her feel better, too, even though he didn't seem inclined to do more than spread a warm glow through her loins.

It didn't take long to empty the bowl; slaves were there for a degree of physical conditioning, too, and so their diets were strictly controlled. The ram stood, freeing her head, and Master Spots likewise came to his feet. She looked up at both of them and remembered to pull her tail back up.

Master Spots clicked his tongue. "She's just not that happy, playful slave again yet. I think we'll need to do a little extra therapy. Kerra, stand up and put your wrists into the overhead track." She rather timidly obeyed; this time, the track didn't start moving. The ram slid up behind her, while Master Spots moved to her front.

Kerra gave a moan as first one, then the other male penetrated her, filling both nether orifices with their stiff erections. Reaching around, the ram touched a firm rubber surface to her mouth; she opened her lips, and a ball-gag soon was strapped in place in her jaws. Then they began slowly thrusting back and forth, making her sway on her feet, letting her hormone-laden bloodstream do most of the work of settling her down via the very pleasant mechanism of multiple orgasms.

Down in the audience, meanwhile, a distinctly grumpy fox with an aching rear end and reptile-honey on his head was in no mood whatsoever to stick his face into the 'slave kibble' in front of his face, growling stomach be damned!