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Torken sighed and got out of his car, feeling the stresses of the day slide off. Work, then gym, then a couple groceries on the way home, and now he'd shower, eat dinner, and go to bed.

Locking the door to his house, he tossed his keys on the counter, wandering upstairs to undress and hop under the running water.

Torken was tired, and some days he felt unfulfilled, but mostly he enjoyed his life. Bachelor, a good job helping people, nice friends he tried to see once a weekend, a stable home. All in all, he really didn't have anything to complain about. Except for the merger coming up in his company which was getting him a little down, he was a pretty happy dragon.

Besides, he'd seen the cute eagle sitting in a booth at the coffee shop again that morning, and he knew that tomorrow he'd work up the courage to ask her on a date. Their morning schedules seemed similar, so he was hoping to bump into her again.

Torken was a pretty good looking dragon, too. He kept himself in shape, exercised, had a nice blue color that he'd been complimented on before. He could pull it off.

--

Torken woke up in the middle of the night, confused. In that brief period between sleeping and waking he had sworn he'd heard something. He rolled over to check the clock, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he debated whether there had actually been a sound of not. That was when the shadow moved with lightning speed and efficiency from the doorway to his bathroom and clamped a paw over his snout, the damp rag covering his nostrils.

Torken tried to yell, to call for help, but the intruder was so strong and so fast he didn't have a chance. Torken tried not to breathe in the strong-smelling chemical on the rag, but he'd been caught so off-guard that by the time he'd gotten around to thinking about that, he'd already inhaled a couple deep breaths.

"That's right, slave. Sweet dreams," the shadow looming over him said, gripping him with paws like steel.

Torken slipped off into the darkness of unconsciousness staring wide-eyed in terror at the invader.

--

Torken woke up naked in a dingy basement, his paws bound in rubber mittens and chained above his head. His feet were covered in rubber too and separated by a spreader bar that was itself chained to a ring in the floor. Over his snout was a muzzle that kept him from opening his mouth and talking.

Torken shivered in the cold air of the basement, wondering fearfully what would happen next. He never expected he'd be kidnapped. And why was he naked? What did they have in store for him? It didn't bear thinking about.

After nearly half an hour of trying to slip through the cuffs chained to the steel beam above him or claw through the rubber over his paws, Torken heard a door creak open behind him and the sound of hooves coming down the rickety wooden stairs.

Then there was the clopping sound of hooves on cement and Torken tried to twist around to look behind him but only caught a brief flash of a large, muscular body before his head was grabbed between two paws and forced to look straight ahead. The strength of the other anthro was astounding.

Torken began a tirade of angry muffled threats, pulling against his binds, trying to provoke his unseen kidnapper into talking or communicating with him in any way. Possibly letting slip information that could help Torken escape. No voice or identification or reasoning was forthcoming however, and the grip around his head shifted to one paw gripping one of his horns while the other arm looped under his tail and held it close, preventing Torken from whipping his assailant.

And there his kidnapper stayed, quietly absorbing and withstanding all of the struggles that Torken could throw at him. Even the powerful thrashes of his tail were unable to do more than cause the other anthro to sway slightly. It was maddening and frightening, and Torken began to get desperate. He continued to protest and shout through his muzzle, creating only muffled sounds that never became anything remotely threatening or persuasive as he drooled and frothed through his bindings, the cuffs on his paws biting into his wrists.

Eventually, Torken gave one last mighty heave and fell still, leaning against his binds and panting in exertion, unable to escape from the anthro's grip.

The arm holding his tail dropped away as did the paw around his horn, though Torken was too exhausted to take advantage of the situation. Instead what happened was that while Torken hung limp, two thick, muscular arms appeared in his vision beside his head as his kidnapper stepped closer and a black rubber mask was forced over his snout and up across his face.

Torken's eyes went wide and he struggled with his last remaining energy, thrashing and frothing, head in the air, as the patient, strong hands of the anthro behind him laced up the mask, locking him inside. Then a heavy steel collar was fitted around Torken's neck and he heard the distinct sound of a large padlock clamping into place.

Torken noted with exhausted, dull fear that the mask was designed for a dragon, having space for his horns and ears while the eye and nostril holes lined up quite well with his face.

He couldn't believe this was happening. What time was it? Where was he? Who had captured him and why? He lived a normal, unassuming life. How had it all changed so quickly? He was humiliated and scared, still completely unsure of what was happening to him and what the end goal was. He had no money, he didn't know anyone important... Why was this happening to him? The anthro who had kidnapped him had called him slave, and he was naked, and the mask fit... Surely they weren't going to...

Then the kidnapper stepped around in front of Torken and the dragon finally got a good look at who had stolen him from his own home.

The horse was large and muscular, at least six inches taller than Torken and probably twice as strong. He shivered in fear as he looked up at the cold, calculating eyes of the horse anthro. Despite the strong, commanding posture of the horse, Torken could sense a veiled excitement in his kidnapper that frightened him even more.

"Welcome to your new home, slave," the horse said in a deep, powerful voice.

Despite his exhaustion, Torken fought against his bonds again, feverishly shouting into the muzzle and mask. His worst fears had been realized. His kidnapper was going to use him for pleasure, keep him as a toy or a pet. He couldn't let it happen! He didn't want to be fucked! He liked females! This couldn't happen to him!

"My name is 'Master.' When and if I let you speak, each of your responses WILL contain the phrase 'yes master' unless you wish to incur my wrath."

Summoning a bravado that he didn't feel, Torken tried to spit at the horse, but only succeeded in wetting the inside of his mask. The horse shook his head.

"You will learn in time, slave. I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You were chosen only because I saw you first and I like the shape of your ass. I expect that given time, you will make a fine sex toy for me. With the appropriate training, of course."

Torken's cheeks burned and he swallowed down his rising despair. He hadn't even been chosen because of who he was. He was picked arbitrarily and almost at random. His identity truly meant nothing to his kidnapper. The humiliation and helplessness of his situation was like a lead weight in his stomach. His job could have been different, he could have lived somewhere else, and it wouldn't have mattered. He didn't matter. He was a victim of chance and this horse's apathy. Torken searched in a futile hope of seeing some reason behind his kidnapping, some greater plan, but there was none. This horse didn't care at all about who he was or what he did. He just wanted a dragon slave with a nice ass and Torken fit the bill.

The horse watched him. "It seems you understand your position. Good. Now we can begin."

Despite Torken's protests and struggles, the horse soon had him laying on his back on a cot, his paws chained over his head behind him to the wall and his back legs chained by cuffs to the ceiling, leaving his ass exposed and spread while his tail was strapped down to the edge of the cot.

Torken nearly choked on the shame of being spread helplessly before a male like this, his virgin tailhole puckering in the cold air of the basement while the horrible anticipation of the horse loomed over him in the low light. He whimpered and looked away as the horse flopped his large cock down across Torken's slit and his stomach, its warm, equine heft standing out against his cool scales.

"You're going to enjoy this, slut. But one more thing first," the horse said before leaning over and strapping a blindfold over Torken's eyes, locking him in darkness.

It was therefore a surprise exactly when the horse's thoroughly lubed cock was shoved into his tailhole, its large head spreading him open like never before as strong hands gripped his thighs like he was a female and used him like a toy.

Torken let out a muffled groan and tried to not think about what was happening, trying not to acknowledge the cock thrusting in and out of his tailhole, trying not to think that this was possibly the rest of his life.

The heavy thrusting of the horse caused the cot to creak and rock, creating a bobbing and sliding rhythm that Torken had no choice but to go along with. Some of the thrusts were so strong that they caused the heavy padlock to his collar to bounce on his chest with dull thumps in time to the messy, wet sounds coming from the thick horsecock claiming his tailhole. The rough hands on his thighs held him tightly and dug into his scales, claiming him utterly as a slave for the other male.

Torken groaned into the darkness, unsure if his lack of sight was a blessing or a curse. The feeling of large, heavy balls slapping against his ass as pre leaked out of him and a cock marked him as a sex toy was too much to bear. He rode out the rattling, slamming darkness and the ache of his tailhole in numbness and submissiveness.

What felt like an eternity later, an exceptionally hard thrust slammed deep into Torken's ass and he heard the horse groan somewhere above him as the cockhead lodged inside him expanded before shooting out a jet of thick, warm horse cum across his insides.

Torken whimpered as he was officially claimed and marked as a bitch, the horse's scent implanted in his ass, the cum sticking to his sore walls. A few more spurts and his captor pulled out, shooting one last rope across Torken's stomach and chest, causing the dragon to flinch and whine.

"I like your blue scales, slut," the horse said, panting. "It makes the cum stand out."

Then Torken heard the sound of a permanent marker cap popping off and felt a large tally being drawn across his inner thigh.

"The first of many, my slave."

Torken sunk into a well of shame and humiliation as, with hardly any rest, the horse once again thrust into his abused tailhole, this time the cum still leaking out across his ass cheeks acting as more lube for the large shaft.

And so it continued, the horse breaking in his new sex toy, the former dragon chained up and unable to resist, quickly learning the dimensions and power of his new master's cock. He became used to the warm feeling of having another male's cum greasing his ass and the shameful wet sensation of cum on his scales.

Torken was kept chained to the cot for a long time. It felt like several days, but he had no way of knowing for sure. His captor took breaks now and then to recharge, but still the tallies along his inner thigh climbed higher and higher.

But to Torken's shame, relatively quickly, far too quickly in his thinking, Torken's body began to submit and accommodate the abuse. His tailhole didn't hurt as much anymore and, against his wishes, his cock began to harden as he was fucked, the feeling of the horse's cockhead rubbing against his g-spot too much to bear.

Dark thoughts began to float through Torken's mind. Fantasies and desires that he didn't know he had now suddenly coming to fruition. It was impossible to know if he'd always felt this way, but it didn't truly matter. As much as he hated it and tried to fight it, one thing was becoming very clear to Torken: He was beginning to enjoy himself.

The horse noticed even before Torken did, letting go of his thigh and slapping the dragon's semi-hard cock. "Very good slave. You'll be even better than I thought. You were made for this. Accept what your body is telling you."

Torken's bruised, tired, cum-stained body was indeed telling him something, though it wasn't what the dragon wanted to hear. Every time that his stiff cock shuddered when the horse thrust into him, he told himself he didn't enjoy it. Every time the horse finished by pulling out and shooting ropes of cum across his body, Torken told himself it was disgusting. Every time the invading cock rubbed against his g-spot and caused him to arch his back and moan, Torken told himself it was just a physical response. It didn't mean anything.

But Torken was lying. His tailhole still ached, but not when it was filled. It ached when it was empty, begging for a big, strong male to stick his cock in. When the horse would call him a slave or a slut or a toy, Torken would feel an electrifying jolt of excitement shoot down his spine. As he panted not in pain or humiliation as he was taken, but in pleasure, Torken began to submit, to sink into the dark fantasies playing out in his mind. To shiver in delight when he was alone and ran the words through his head: "This is your life now..."

The humiliation and shame that Torken felt soon became a stimulant for his sexual desires, not a hindrance. The more helpless he felt, the more it turned him on. Despite one last part of his mind holding on, quietly yelling that this was wrong, that he was a free, proud dragon, that he liked females, his ears still twitched in excitement, not fear, when he heard his master's hooves coming down the steps into the basement.

Torken found himself panting and moaning sluttily as he did his best to thrust back into his master's cock, shivering in exactment as he mentally called his horse captor and enslaver "master." His tailhole begged to be filled with a neediness that never abated. His rock-hard cock bobbed in the air as his master took him forcefully, utterly stripping any freedom or self-determination from him, and Torken loved it.

His master finally hilted him again in climax, and as he did, everything clicked for Torken and his eyes snapped wide open under his blindfold as he shot a geyser of cum into the air, his untouched, needy cock exploding in a scale-raising, earth-shattering orgasm as Torken finally fully accepted that this was his life now.

"Very good, slave," the master said, an edge of excitement creeping into even his voice. "You've finally accepted your role as a sex toy, have you?"

In the darkness, Torken nodded eagerly, furiously, and whined to be filled again, wiggling his sticky, white-splatted hips at his master, hoping to entice his cock into his depths once more.

"I think we can move on and welcome you fully into your new position," the master said, beginning to unbind the whining dragon.

As Torken felt his arms and legs finally become unbound, a small part of his mind resurfaced and urged, yelled, screamed at him to run or fight, to do anything to escape his situation. But as his blindfold was lifted and his master's dirty, cum-covered cock was laid across his snout, Torken killed off that final, tiny part of himself.

"That's a good slave," the master said as he clipped a length of chain to Torken's collar and pulled the dragon off the cot, his weak arms and legs failing him as he fell to his knees on the floor.

Over the next few minutes, Torken was bound inescapably into his new life. He was zipped into a black rubber bitchsuit that covered everything including his tail, a large, equine dildo was stuffed up his ass, and a cockring was locked over his member to keep him hard at all times.

Torken reveled in the permanent loss of freedom. He thought he might have cum just at the thought of being locked up in his rubber bitchsuit for the rest of his life if he hadn't been wearing the cockring and his master hadn't warned him against cumming without permission.

Finally, his paws were chained behind his back and his mask was momentarily taken off so that the muzzle underneath could be removed, allowing access to his mouth to be gained by unzipping the zipper at the front of the mask.

At the end of Torken's transformation from a free dragon into a true slave, he was kneeling in front of his master's semi-hard cock, cum from the dragon's ass still sticking to the long shaft.

"Clean me off, slave," the master said, unzipping Torken's mouth and jerking the collar's chain.

Torken looked at the dripping cock hungrily, not even thinking that just a few days ago he would have been utterly repulsed at the idea of cleaning the horse's cock of cum. But now, as he shuffled forward on his knees and leaned in, opening up his wet, hungry maw invitingly to accept the cock of the male who had broken him, he felt nothing but excitement and lust.

With no hands to help him, Torken bent downward, craning his head up to slide the drooping length into his open mouth, his first taste of horsecock making his own cock twitch. Then he realized that this would be the first of many tastes of horsecock, and he nearly came except for the cockring.

Torken closed his eyes and moaned around the rapidly hardening cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue along its massive length, slurping and sucking to clean it of all leftover cum. The cum itself didn't taste like he expected, but he found he enjoyed it, and didn't fight back when his master gripped one of his horns and pushed his rubber-covered face further onto the cock.

Torken fought against his gag reflex as his master held him there, nostrils pressed up against the horse's musky crotch as his master began to thrust into him, balls bouncing off his new slave's drooling chin.

Torken gasped and panted around the cock, savoring its veiny length sliding through his mouth. His long tongue slid out of his jaws and licked at his master's, his dominator's ballsack, cleaning it of any cum splatters that might have found their way there.

"That's right, slut. Clean it well. You'll get good at this soon with all the practice you're about to have."

Torken moaned into his master's crotch at those words, his cock twitching in anticipation. He savored the knowledge, the certainty that this horse was going to own him for the rest of his life. He had been broken and abused and turned into a cock-hungry slut and he loved it. He loved knowing that his master still didn't know who he was and that he would never know his name. He loved that he was a slave, a sex toy, nothing more. Nothing else about him mattered. Not his identity, not his name, not his will. He existed only to be a receptacle for his kidnapper's cock, and that knowledge nearly drove him crazy with lust as he sucked and slurped at his master's thick cock, the tool that had broken and claimed him.

Finally, his master pulled back on his horn, sliding his mouth off his cock. With a grunt, the horse shot ropes and ropes of sticky, warm cum across Torken's face and into his mouth, the semen standing out white against the black of the rubber. Torken closed his eyes and basked in his master's outpouring, reveling in the sluttiness of having anther male's seed on his face.

When it was finished, Torken began to lick himself clean, swallowing the cum that had landed in his mouth and gathering up more from his rubber suit. He got halfway finished before his master reached down and zipped his mouth shut, leaving cum smeared across his forehead and snout.

"Get used to that suit, slut. That's your new home."

With that, Torken was led upstairs into the rest of the house and shown the small, wire-frame cage where he would be sleeping, as well as the food and water dishes he would be using.

And thus, bound and broken, humiliated and loving it, Torken's new life as a sex slave for his horse master began. He quickly became an insatiable cock addict, needing a cock shoved into his holes all the time, seldom ever satisfied except for the hardest fucking. As he crawled around the house, all that he thought of or cared about was cock. His old life was completely gone. He loved being a toy for his master, whimpering and begging inside his suit to be unzipped and allowed to take his master's length in any way possible. He was a dirty, sticky, cum-stained sex toy, nothing remaining of his draconic pride or identity. His life had completely changed to begging for cock to fill his needy holes.

The best days were when his master brought over his large, equine friends and Torken was passed around the group, spitroasted and showered in cum, his face shoved into ballsacks and crotches, forced to clean every surface of cum except for his body. He was humiliated regularly, the massive horses surrounding the kneeling, bound dragon and slapping him with their thick cocks, taunting and teasing him and making him beg to finally be stuffed and filled with their members.

But Torken didn't care. He loved it. He was a cock addict through and through and would do anything his master told him to. His life was cocks, semen, and rubber. His master's friends complimented the horse on what a great slut he'd turned the dragon into, laughing at the pathetic, slutty, begging toy that Torken had become. And Torken wouldn't have it any other way. His old life wiped away by a master he'd never truly know, forced to crawl around and milk horses for their cum and love it forever.