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The halls of the manor echoed with debauchery. Low groans, sighs of pleasure, and cries of tortured bliss from the pred Toys being used, abused, and played with by their prey Masters filled the hallway and spilled from the rooms that the pair passed by to tease Nick's flicking, pulled-back ears. The fox let his eyes flick into each chamber, and then quickly look away before his mind could register what he saw; could connect the tableaus of Master/Toy depravity to the 'special show' he'd witnessed.

Here Snarloff was bent over a bondage bench, the polar bear being pounded harder and faster and more enthusiastically by Higgins than Nick had ever seen the hippos working before; why were Snarloff's jaws slack and drooling--his eyes blank and staring straight ahead in more than just pleasure--just like Finnick's had been? There, Grizzoli and Wolfard were squirming and writhing and humping together on the floor, kissing deeply as the ring of Masters standing over them showered the two wolves with cum; why were their movements a little too smooth and boneless, why was the coating of seed--was that seed, or worm-infected slime?--on their bodies a little too thick and ample, and why were they pressing into each other a bit closer than should have been possible? And over there Delgato was tied to a chair, mane shorn completely and eyes closed in bliss as his snout was smeared with precum by the equine-cocked Masters gathered around him; Nick shut his eyes like a child against the vision of the thick, chitinous, many-legged thing being fed into the lion's eager maw that he caught when one of the males shifted away from the bound pred. Again and again, he caught glimpses of the horror that this 'celebration' had become.

The fox pressed himself more firmly against the hunched, shambling, cloaked-and-masked figure--Master--gripping his leash and pulling him along towards their destination; towards Bogo, who could bring some spark of sanity back to this insane, sexual nightmare in which Nick had found himself. Who could take his mind off what he had seen down in the other room; the 'special show' of his former partner being bred, fucked, and infested by some kind of worm-spewing, drooling and growling, lustful monster. Who could explain why he'd finally been invited to one of these Master/Toy parties after months of radio silence on that topic, only to be met with sights like the ones assaulting his tear-pricked eyes.

He glanced up to Master, feeling a hot blush in the flesh of his cheeks and ears--an itch under his tail that only be scratched by a fat cock shoving deep into him--even as a shudder ran down his spine. His paws wandered over the form underneath the other male's thick cloak, trying to feel Master's body--how muscular he was, what species he was, how big his malehood was--even has his limbs trembled. He took slow, deep breaths of Master's scent--cloying, spicy, and faintly acrid--even as the knot that had been twisting and churning in his gut rose into his throat to choke him; or perhaps that was the collar--pulled snug and then one notch tighter--around his neck as the other male gave his leash a tug.

It was sick and shameful, but even under his fear and revulsion Nick still felt horny; wanted to hump against Master and bend over to bury his snout in the male's musky crotch and get rutted hard and fast and deep like the good Toy he was.

Their tour through the mansion finally ended at a door at the end of a long hallway. "Here we are, little pet... my chambers. Bogo is right through here, though he's probably still indisposed." Master's crackling, humming voice still had that edge of sharp, venom-coated cruelty, even as his cloth-wrapped paw patted Nick's back with almost-tender affection. What exactly had their 'discussion' earlier entailed? "Don't blame me for what happens when you interrupt him." With his free hand, the cloaked male gestured invitingly towards the room.

Nick gulped. He lifted a paw and knocked. When there was no answer--save for a quiet cackle from Master--Nick turned the polished brass handle and pushed the door open. However, any hope the fox held of waking up from this hellish wet dream was very quickly dashed; as he stepped through the doorway into the humid room, Nick only found himself wandering deeper into the nightmare.

Musk. Pheromones. Thick and cloying and strong enough to burn his nose and lungs. Nick choked on the smell--gagged when it forced itself down his sore throat--even as the erection that had been pulsing insistently through everything he'd seen jumped and splattered his thighs and belly with slick precum. Both his mind and his vision swam, and the fox reeled as his eyes wandered aimlessly around the chamber. A bedroom--Master's bedroom--that looked almost normal, if a little too high-class for his blood; a large, king-size bed against one wall, a chest of drawers and a dresser nearby, and another open door through which Nick could see hints of a massive bathroom. The sight was almost mundane, and only made the gargantuan, fleshy, tentacled mass resting against one wall--oozing thick slime that soaked through the plush carpet and belching out wafts of steam that must be the source of the heady stench filling the room--all the more horrific for how out of place it was among the almost-posh furnishings.

Bogo sat--rested on top of--the hideous thing like a king on his throne, his legs splayed wide to show off his shameless nudity. However, any inkling that the cape buffalo was the one in charge was quickly broken when Nick saw the slack-jawed, hazy, blankly-blissful expression on the chief's face; the same expression that Finnick had while getting fucked during the show down below. The tentacles extending from the thing he was sitting on grasped and stroked and teased all over the chief's presented--displayed like some kind of sick, sexual trophy--body. Over his flexing, twitching pecs and nipples. Gripping Bogo's muscular arms to keep them lifted--bound--above his head and his ankles to keep his supple legs and firm thighs spread. Pushing into his mouth and ears and sheath and even under his balls to sink into the chief's tight, clenching hole; they were even visible writhing under the thin flesh of his ballsack and churning in his belly, showing just how deep they had penetrated the prone male. The working, squirming, thrusting tendrils pulsed with a rhythmic beat, and Nick could see large, hard, spherical shapes--eggs?--being pumped into Bogo's backside--making the bulge in his gut slowly grow with every insertion--while the thick, goopy, worm-filled slime gushing down the buffalo's gulping throat dribbled out over his chin and chest.

Nick felt a scream rising like bile from deep within him, but it caught against the knot of fear in his own throat and only choked the pred again. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He froze when he heard the click of the door behind him being locked, and the crooning hum of the Master. "I told you so, little pet."

"W-wh... wh..." Nick's lips--his entire body--trembled. His ears were pulled flat against his skull, and his tail was tucked in tight between his legs. Even so, the heat in his groin was insistent; his cock throbbed with every breath of the scents--male musk and cum and hard gay sex--hanging in the air, dribbling precum into a slowly-growing stain on the carpet between his hindpaws. And when he watched Master's hands begin pulling the other male's mask and cloak off, that fire in his loins flarws higher as the shameful thoughts of finally seeing Master's cock--feeling it, smelling it, tasting it as the raunchy malehood plunged into his throat and ass--broke through the terror of what sights Master had shown him.

"Bogo's been a bad boy. A naughty little pet... and this is his punishment." Nick could finally see the source of that crackling voice--the reason for those odd protrusions and hunched figure he'd been feeling under the cloak--as Master finally revealed who--what--he was. The face unveiled from beneath the discarded mask almost looked like a mammal's, save for the sharp, beak-like structure of the snout and the beady red eyes in its sunken sockets. The Master's--the creature's--sallow skin was drawn tight against its skull, and its thin lips were pulled into a rictus smile through which sharp, yellowing fangs protruded. Its body was hunched and pudgy, and was that fur or soft, feathery down in a crest around its neck? The fox's eyes were drawn downward like a magnet, taking in the sight of the thing's bony chest and sagging gut, its low-hanging ballsack, and the trio of long, flopping, blunt-tipped shafts that rose from the moist slit in its smooth crotch.

"Pet? Punishment?" The fox's gaze was wide and staring. He shook his head--to clear his hazy thoughts or in denial of the insanity unfolding before his eyes even he didn't know--and tried to back away from the creature as it approached, humming and cackling and looking over Nick's bare, vulnerable body with open, burning lust. "What... what..." His jaws trembled, and his tongue wouldn't form the words that his scattering thoughts struggled to piece together.

"You're confused. Allow me to enlighten you." Its fingers--talons; the thing's digits were long and bony and tipped with sharp, wicked claws--moved to cup Nick's cheek in an almost-affectionate gesture. A rough, throaty, crooning hum. A pat on the fox's flushed flesh. A wide--too wide--toothy, slavering grin, and a lazy wink of one crimson eye; the expression, the gesture, the thing's entire demeanor was all wrong, like an actor who couldn't quite play their part just right. "As you Toys have your purpose, your Masters, Bogo in particular, have theirs." The aged, shambling creature then made its--his--way over to the bound buffalo, reaching out to cup and squeeze one of the chief's plump, full--too full--pectorals; Nick watched, gut twisting and heaving even as his erection jumped and spurted, as a fat worm pushed out of the plump nipple the creature was kneading between a bony thumb and forefinger. "As you lift your tails, eagerly taking your Masters' cocks and cum like the good little breeding holes you are, they are to... vet you. To find males among your race suited to the role. To get you broken in, and then send you to me so that I may help you fulfill your purpose." The creature's tongue, pale and wriggling, moved to lick over Bogo's infested nipple; Master suckled the worm right out of the puffy flesh, and Bogo's expression twisted for just a moment before falling back into slack, mindless pleasure.

His purpose. Their purpose. Breeding holes; for what? For the monsters that were pulling the strings behind the curtain? Through the haze of musk and lust clouding Nick's reeling brain, he tried--and failed--to voice those questions.

"But as I said, Bogo's been a naughty, naughty little pet." The creature's voice was filled with patronizing, affectionate indulgence even as his claws raked down Bogo's sides to the bound buffalo's hips. The wizened fingers traced over the veins bulging from the mammal's flesh, and kneaded the chief's filled sheath while it was penetrated and abused by those thick, wriggling tentacles that were sinking into it. "Instead of bringing the prepared Toys to his Master, he thought to keep you--to keep all of the Toys in your little Police Department--to himself." A snort, and a rough, punishing squeeze of Bogo's fat balls that sent more slime dribbing down the prey-mammal's heaving chest from his overfilled jaws. "The fool thought he deserved a 'reward' for following my orders. A group of Toys set aside to call his own. He forgot his own position in this, and so I've had to remind him." The creature then stretched up, dragging his beak along Bogo's shoulder and neck. He nipped along the buffalo's throat, and then lapped up the trails of slime that had been drooled out around the working tendrils in Bogo's mouth. The creature--Master--moved up to nuzzle the mammal with a mockery of affection as Bogo was fucked and filled and infested and bred by the fleshy mass upon which his bound body was resting. "He is mine. His Toys are mine. And if he can't be responsible with the power I've granted him, it can easily be taken away. He is not indispensable, though I'd much rather... repurpose him."

Bogo groaned. For a moment, the buffalo's eyes flickered and cleared. His hips rocked--up against the tentacles driving themselves into his sheath, and then back against the ones pumping into his hole--and he let out a moan of tortured bliss. The mammal's lips moved, his throat convulsed, and a sound--a muffled word--was gurgled out in another flood of dribbling, worm-filled goo. It almost sounded like 'Sire'.

Sire. A king. One who lorded over his servants with absolute, unquestionable authority. It was a fitting name for the creature.

Master--Sire--hummed. He dragged his pale, wriggling, long and pointed tongue over Bogo's flushed cheek. He turned back to Nick with a wide--too wide--grin. "And so, here you are. I've had to perform this one's task for him so that Nick Wilde... the slut, the whore, the Toy who'd taken to his purpose better than any before him, could finally be brought before me. Could be invited to one of my little celebrations of you Toys' purpose... your true purpose." The creature rose up to leave Bogo to his fate, and stalked towards Nick; even if he only stood a head taller than the fox, and was hunched and thin and bony, the male's presence loomed over Nick and sent a shudder down the pred's spine to his hiked-up tail. Sire embraced the mammal, pulling him against his body--warm, and so rank with rich musk--and wrapping his wizened arms around the fox. Their hips pressed together, and Sire's trio of cocks sandwiched Nick's own erection in a wall of slick, throbbing, pre-soaked flesh.

The fox groaned. Sighed. Settled into Sire's arms to feel the creature's arousal against his own and fill his lungs with the Masters' Master's scent. Even as he shuddered and hid his face in the ring of down around the creature's neck to take his eyes off the sight of Bogo. Even as icy fingers trailed down his spine to push into his twitching, itching, clenching hole. Even as the knot in his gut squirmed and writhed and blazed a burning trail of nausea up into his throat. A Toy. He was a Toy; a good one at that. And he'd follow every one of Master's--of Sire's--orders, no matter how kinky or depraved. What else could he do?

He tried to speak--to beg Sire to take him to the bed and rut his slutty ass with that trio of alien cocks so he could let everything he'd seen and learned sink beneath the rhythm and motion of sex--but his jaw remained slack. His limbs were stiff and unresponsive. His head was pounding; not quite hurting, but he could feel the pressure pushing from behind his eyes. With a whimper, he looked to Master's smiling face.

"Ah, I see the egg has finally hatched." 'Egg'? Master tittered and cackled as he read the question in Nick's wide, tear-pricked eyes. "Yes, pet. An egg. One which I put in your little cunny earlier, and which has finally hatched and infested you." A bony hand grasped one of the fox's asscheeks, and a sharp claw traced the rim of the trembling male's pucker. "Can you feel them within you, little pet? The worms hatching and filling you? Wriggling into your guts and your brain and keeping you nice and still while Sire plays with you?" The buttplug; what he'd mistaken for one, at least. The knot in his gut. The heaviness in his bowels that had stretched his inner walls so pleasantly, and that Nick had forgotten about as this nightmare of a wet dream spiraled out of control.

Nick's throat worked, but he could only let out a weak whimper in answer.

Sire's snout rubbed along the mammal's; their lips brushed together, and then Sire's tongue traced the length of Nick's jaw line. A pulse and throb from below as Sire's cocks soaked the pred's belly with precum. "Don't worry, little pet. It's not permanent." A low hum as Sire humped against him, groping and squeezing Nick's ass and playing with the mammal's hole; his breeding hole, his cumdump entrance, his needy cunny. And then the creature stepped away, leaving Nick standing stiff--in more ways than one--as a board. "It's just a bit of preparation for you. We've still yet to make you ready to embrace the new position I've planned for you."

A strangled, questioning groan.

"Relax, pet. You've one more task before you can feel this in you." Sire gave the pred an almost-flirtatious wink as his wizened hand grasped and stroked one of his alien members. "Like the little fox down below, you've a show to put on with a special guest. A private one, just for me." He made his way to the bathroom. Rapped his bony fist on the door. Pushed it open wide to let the low light of the bedroom fall into the darkened space; and hint at the large form that shifted in the shadows. "I hope you perform well, my darling little pet."

The 'special guest' that joined them in the bedroom shambled and slithered, wormlike--no, sluglike--as it pushed itself forward with the long, wriggling tentacles lining the length of its fat, slime-coated, leathery body. More tentacles extended from its 'neck' and 'face' to wave in the air, sensing the thing's way forward; small, insectile, ruby-like eyes were set in trios along either side of its rounded head, but they stared blankly and unseeing. And when it neared the fox's prone body, Nick could smell the cloying, masculine--very masculine--stench of the beast. Thick. Spicy. So very good.

The thing pushed its 'snout' against Nick crotch, the tendrils extending from its head and neck caressing his hips and groin and dribbling erection with an almost-appreciative, almost-pleasant touch. It seemed to approve of what it found; the beast gurgled and surged forward, and Nick grunted as he was forced to the ground underneath and engulfed by the monster's bulk. He felt its massive body covering his own, and the wriggling tendrils of its 'limbs' wrap around his chest and throat and wrists and ankles. He felt it rolling over onto its back, pulling him up to rest against the thing's segmented underbelly. He felt its lower half lift and curl over them in the air, the tentacles spreading and pulling at the fox's legs to get Nick splayed out and vulnerable as he was held in the beast's grip; and the pred's wide, staring, fearful eyes took in the sight of the beast's malehood.

Fat, veiny gonads as large as the fox's head bulged from just under the blunted tip of the thing's tail. A plump pouch rose from its underbelly, fleshy and soft-looking and dribbling with the beast's pungent slime. The shaft that pushed from out of the crusted, worm-infested opening of the monster's sheath was gargantuan; as long as Nick's forearm, and thicker around than the pred's flexed bicep. More worms wriggled and pushed free from the wide, dribbling piss slit at its spiky tip, falling onto Nick's thighs as the length approached his bared pucker.

Another strangled whimper. Nick tried to struggle--to look to Sire and plead with the being to let him go free--but it was useless. His breath caught in his throat as the monster's cocktip brushed his entrance, and a wave of heat slammed into the fox's gut; the ring of flesh was twitching and clenching, kissing the beast's member in anticipation of being spread open wide by that monolithic erection. His hungry, needy, slutty ass wanted it.

He wanted it.

"That's right. That's a good little pet." A stab of pain that was quickly drowned under another pulse of squirming, writhing pleasure. "You're a whore. A slut. A cumdump for any cock presented to you." Hands stroking his chest and belly, finding the soft fur under the monster's slime and gripping tentacles. "A good little breeding hole for your Masters. For Sire." Lips locking with Nick's slack jaws; Sire's tongue plunged into the pred's mouth in a deep, debauched kiss. Croons and crackling humming joined the huffing in the fox's flicking ear and the mammal's own whimpering and whining in a chorus of depraved bliss. Nick's pucker strained, stretched, and finally broke under the insistent pushing of the monstrous cock trying to fuck him; trying to breed him. It hurt, it burned, it felt amazing. The creature holding him in its grip couldn't hilt into Nick in this position, but just the first few inches of its length filled the fox in the way he'd come to love. It felt like Bogo, and Higgens, and maybe even Trumpet were all fucking him at once. Even as Nick hyperventilated--gasped and filled his lungs with the mingling stench of both the monster and Sire's alien bodies--the pred's own erection twitched and spasmed and soaked his belly fur with his cum.

A sting in his ears. Something pushing into his skull; touching and groping and molesting deep into his brain. Pain that gave way to sweet, orgasmic pleasure.

"Can you feel him in your head, pet?" He could. "Don't worry, he's merely helping set you free. Taking away all the worthless worries and cares that distract you from your purpose." He wouldn't worry. "You're a good Toy." He was a good Toy. "You love this." He loved this. "You want to follow every single one of Sire's orders." He wanted to follow every single one of Sire's orders. The words of the wizened director of this nightmare echoed in his swimming brain, repeating over and over until they became the bedrock upon which all his thoughts formed themselves. Through the musky, cloying haze clouding his mind, Nick could see Master's beady, staring, lustful eyes boring into him. Washing away all thought that didn't involve pleasure; his pleasure, his Masters' pleasure, and the pleasure of Sire's special guest.

Nick's throat worked. He could feel his numb tongue slowly forming words; his jaws opened and closed like a puppet's as he spoke. "Yes... Sire..."

Sire smiled. He kissed Nick, slow and tender. The creature's claws stroked the fox's flushed, blushing cheeks and snout. "Good little pet. Now, let Thrashah fill your cunny with his seed."

The monster underneath the two--Thrashah--began to rock its lower body faster and faster. Its member sank into Nick's passage, easily pushing through every clench and squeeze of the pred's inner walls. Deep. Deeper. Deeper still. Far away, in some darkened corner of Nick's mind, the pred thought that massive erection should have pushed through him completely by now; but as with Finnick's own ass--the smaller fox's tight, supple, delicious-looking worm-and-cum-filled ass--Nick's body took every inch of the alien malehood being fed into it without complaint. He wanted it. He needed it. He was a good Toy, a good little pet, a good breeding hole for Sire.

Nick gasped and screamed as the monster slammed into him one last time, its cock pulsing and pumping thick gushes of heavy seed into him. The pred's own overstimulated erection spurted yet another load of cum, and Sire cackled in delight at the sight. As the fox's vision swam and darkened, he watched Sire nuzzling and lapping at the beast's throbbing gonads. The creature's tongue dragged upward to the blunted tip of Thashah's tail; to the monster's own flexing, clenching pucker, and teasing over and into its rim. "Mmm, so many good little pets..." Sire licked again and again, drawing out a fat, pale, wriggling worm from Thrashah's bowels and suckling it into his mouth. Then the creature pulled Nick from the panting, grunting, huffing beast's slackened grip and into yet another kiss; the worm wriggled and writhed between their dancing tongues, and then squirmed its way down the pred's throat to join its fellows in Nick's gut.

"Master... Sire..." The words poured from Nick's mouth of their own accord as his body pressed to the creature's. "More..."

"You'll have all you can handle, pet." Bony, clawed fingers stroking his ears. Hot, firm, flopping lengths grinding on his hips. A digit tracing the slick rim of his opened hole and teasing the needy flesh within. "I've such plans for you. For all my good little pets." Sire gave Nick a too-wide, toothy, venom-edged grin.

And Nick, mind reeling and fogged and struggling to piece together the simplest of thoughts--'cock', 'breed me', 'fuck me, Sire', 'please'--smiled at his handsome, sexy, powerful and virile Master.

---

The fox was bred--laid prone on Sire's musk-and-damask-scented bed and rutted like the needy whore he was--long into the night. The creature's trio of thick, alien cocks sunk into Nick's hole, and his mouth and throat, and blew their rancid loads all over his face again and again and again. Nick listened to and hummed along with Sire's moaning and crooning pleasure, and was eager to press his nose and tongue to every inch of the creature's body; under Sire's arms, between his thighs and into Sire's moist slit and rank pucker, and even between Sire's wiggling toes and over his sagging, fleshy nipples. Licking. Lapping. Worshipping Sire's body and scent and flavor and doing his utmost to pleasure the Master who sat even above the other Masters.

At some point in the evening, Finnick--his body still slack and smeared with various stinking fluids--was brought in to join them. Nick kissed the other fox, swallowed down the loads of worm-infested cum filling the fennec's own breeding hole--Finnick's cunny--and let the parasites filling his own gut squirm up his throat and into the other male in turn. And all the while, Sire's erections dragged over their faces and bodies and plunged deep into them from both ends.

"Mmm... oh, yes..." The two mammals were on their backs, and Sire was panting and rocking his hips with wild abandon as he loomed over them. The creature's breath came in deep wheezes as he fucked Nick and Finnick at the same time; one of his three cocks was pounding into Nick's hole, another was pulsing and pumping into Finnick's, and the third was being grasped and stroked to let Sire's precum dribble over the two needy sluts' bodies. "Good pets. Good little pets..."

"F-fuck... nnnngh..." Finnick was whimpering and whining, face buried in Nick's fur while the larger fox held him. Their own drooling shafts ground together in the puddle of slime--precum and wriggling, writhing worms--forming between them. The fennec gasped at a particularly deep thrust from Sire, and then hacked and coughed and spat a glob of the slithering parasites onto the other mammal's chest. "So... fuckin'... good..."

"Yeah... fuck... breed me, Sire. Breed us. Make us your whores. Your sluts. Your cumdumps." Nick moaned and sighed and panted, tilting Finnick's head back so he could lap the smears of infested drool from Finnick's lips. Then the fox reached down, gripping his shaft against Finnick's, and looked to Sire while pleasuring himself and his fellow mammal; he showed off their arousal, their desire, their need for more and more seed from the monstrous, alien, beautiful creature.

"You are." A grin, wide and warm and lustful. A slavering, hungry kiss for both Toys. A deep, slamming thrust to let them feel his blunt, flattened, tricorn-shaped cocktips against the nubs of their overstimulated prostates. "All of you are. Forever and ever and ever..."

That was right; they were and always would be. They were the Toys, the prey-mammals were their Masters, and Sire sat at the top of the pyramid above them all. Their mouths and cocks and bodies were his to do with as he pleased. They--the mammals both prey and pred--all were made to serve Sire; to service Sire and his 'guests' as cumdumps and breeding holes, ensuring both his comfort and his perpetuation. Nick gasped in bliss as the thought cut through the musky fog hazing his mind; and as Sire groaned and crooned and murmured his plans for them--the centuries he'd spent bringing Toys and Masters just like them into the fold, and the years Nick and Finnick and Bogo and all the rest would spend in turn at his beck and call--it all finally began to make sense. It was their role. It was their magnanimously-granted position. It was their purpose.