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Captured

Part Two

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodjiang

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The conference room was large and oddly prim and proper for the Reunion Movement, though they had gained more power of late with the Infected in their ranks. It was why they were there, after all, for equal rights, to take what was theirs, though their desires and wants changed quite often. In a world that was shifting under their feet, there was only so much that they could do in that regard.

Not all in the conference room, however, was neat and tidy, some of the chairs with ripped fabric, the legs wonky, knocking back and forth as the occupant changed their weight. But that was part of being a movement, a resistance against the injustices of the world they'd been thrust into.

Of course, the dull conference was made better by the fact that the Reunion sex slave was down under the long table, bright, white sunshine streaming in through the windows. Under there, the Perro, Hung, though his name was never used, could move from participant to participant, whimpering softly.

He took a Savra's cock into his mouth, their genitalia held externally, though Hung had never thought all that much about the anatomy of others before he'd become a sex slave for their use. Now, all he cared about was how he could please them, whether they were Perro, Feline, Savra or something else entirely.

The thick length of the Savra's grey-honed cock pushed into the back of his throat, but like the seasoned, practised cock-sucker he had become, he easily took it deeply, ignoring the bulge in his throat. Hung didn't even think that he had all that much of a gag reflex anymore, not after all that had come to pass.

Someone across from the Savra kicked him and he whined: he must have been too loud again. But the lizard didn't seem to mind that, shifting their knees further apart under the gloom of the table and pressing on the back of his head.

Hung shivered. Ah, he didn't need words to know what that meant, that he was to do more, to suck harder, to be more pleasing. As his head sank, he grunted deep in the back of his throat, a load of cum suddenly exploding into his maw. The Perro might have had trouble swallowing it all if he had been less experienced than he had become, but he took it all like a skilled professional, his cheeks hollowing lightly as he sucked, pursing his lips tightly around the hot length.

Damn, how he needed it, a slut for it, throat working noisily. He was glad that he did not have to engage with the meeting above his head as he swallowed every drop and licked off his lips with thanks afterwards, his tail wagging lightly. It sounded very boring. In a way, being a sex slave had freed him from his past life, even though there were things that had changed for him.

One of those things was in how Hung was led by the Savra, dressed casually but cleanly for anticipated fighting in clothes that were loose enough for them to move in without hindering them, back to their dormitory. It was a shared dorm, of course, for them, but he shivered in pleasure, nearly hopping from foot to foot in excitement.

Yes, yes... If he pleased, that meant he was good. He liked being good. He liked being good very much.

Hung's cock tried to press out, swelling, though there was no clothing there to tease against, merely showing him to be half-hard, needy as always. That was as hard as it could get, however, through the commanding metal bars of the chastity cage, which was shaped like a soft penis, though much, much harder, glistening in the low light. Hung had to keep it clean always, sparkling, though it was difficult to wash properly with it on, leading the sex slave to be interrupted in the showers for sex on more than one occasion. It made clean-up easier and Hung was more than happy to serve anyone wherever they pleased.

The Savra growled, eyes darkening with passion. Hung already knew what he wanted, yipping keenly. On the narrow, metal bed with at least a comfortable (moderately so) mattress, Hung obediently climbed up and laid on his stomach at a snap of the Savra's fingers.

"Up!"

They did not need to explicitly detail their commands to him, not when they could just use him like an animal. To those on the base, he was only something to be used, nothing more than that. They didn't have to spare a passing thought for him, not as the Savra impatiently clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyeing up the canine type's arse, shoved up in the air with his tail flagged.

"You're a better bitch to fuck now than you were when you started."

Hung whimpered, tongue lolling from his mouth happily.

"Thank you, master! Please fuck your slut! Please fuck your toy!"

The phrases leapt from his lips as if they had been programmed in, but he meant every word of them with the utmost sincerity. He had learned, of course, to please men as well as women on the base, incredibly skilled at fucking and serving, but, of course, his body had begun to crystallise, in a small part, with how he had become one of the Infected. But it was no longer something that at all concerned Hung as much as it had before as he rocked his hips back and wriggled his butt, enticing the lizard to fuck him. Even as the Savra's grey-red skin was revealed, all Hung could think about was how he was to serve them, how he could satisfy every tiny little need and desire in them.

There was no greater calling for a sex slave, after all, a slut who was there to please, to serve, do everything they needed and more. And Hung was the best of the best of all the sex slaves that they had trained there on the base.

The Savra hissed out something rude, but with his trousers tugged down to reveal his hot length, shirt open, all Hung could do was to cry out as the fat length ground up against his arse.

"Yes! Yes, master! Please, fuck me! Use me! Pound me! Take your pleasure from meeeee!"

His squeal echoed off the bare wall of the dormitory, lined with other beds, though it was not the largest dorm that he had been in, the Savra's hand closing around the base of Hung's tail. Hefted up into position, that cock slammed in, driving open his anal ring without any care or consideration for his body, his comfort. He was only there to give pleasure, what the dog proffered with every pant and whimper, day and night.

That wasn't a bad existence, not as he arched back into the punishing thrusts of the Savra, a person whose name he didn't even know. What use did he have for a name? It did not matter, could not matter, not as he ground back, squeezing around that cock. All his entire being was focused on was giving pleasure, even as he panted more and more lustfully, moaning aloud.

"Ohhh, yes, thank you, master! Thank you! Ohhhh!"

His cries filled the room even as the Savra laughed and mocked him for being so vocal, for being such a slut of a sex slave that he couldn't control himself even then.

"Little whore, this is the place in life..."

"Yes! Ah! Master, yes, take me harder! Your cock feels so good inside me!"

That was unlikely to be something that Hung would have said before becoming a sex slave, but he loved it, the thickness, the feeling of being stretched. His backside strained easily around any size cock after so much training and he was fucked more than enough every day for his body to adjust, never softening and easing back to its old tightness. Or maybe the Perro was never that tight, always able to relax and let things that should never have been so crudely rammed up into his backside slam deeper than ever before.

The dog moaned out loud, not caring who heard. The hand around his tail tightened, using it for leverage as the kinky slap of the lizard's hips on his arse rose, overruling even his moans. The lizard pushed over him, the two of them more than loud enough that Hung was sure, with a kinky thrill, that those outside in the corridor, going about their days, could hear them too, though he could not bring himself to care. He wanted it, wanted them to know what a good bitch he was, that his holes were always available for use.

"Yes... Ah! Fill me! Fill me, master! Fuck me harder with your thick cock!"

The Savra hissed, tongue flicking out over his lips, enjoying the sex slave's subservience. But as he pressed over Hung's back, letting the harder, rougher skin tease down over the Perro's soft fur, he could not hold back.

Every thrust came punctuated with a groan or a grunt, neither of them knowing quite which it had emanated from. But it was not the point, not the issue, heaving, panting breaths snatched for lungs that were in desperate need of them. The lizard pinned him down to the bed, one foot braced on the floor still, using every inch of his cock to pound the Perro's arse, revelling openly at the tightness.

Yet all lustful times had to come to their highs, their ends, too. Hung moaned and licked his lips, too much saliva in his mouth, drooling like a bitch in heat, though the dog felt as if he was in heat all the time. It was hard, harder than ever, wanting to serve, wanting to submit, though he was not allowed to cum without permission. That meant no orgasm for him, not in his chastity, though he could have a failed orgasm, the kind of weird orgasm that had his head spinning and his loins aching. Only a bit of oddly milky fluid could seep from him when that happened, his body trying to cum, but never giving him the satisfaction that would come with a true orgasm.

He loved that. As long as it made his masters and mistresses happy with him, Hung would take it again and again, doing everything they wished.

He was a hole, something to be fucked, lust overcoming him, twisting back and forth and humping back as the Savra filled him again under his tail. With his tail forcibly yanked up high, the Perro could only quiver in place, his hands submissively laid out flat on the bed, need overcoming him.

The hot fill of cum splashing up under his tail, slick and ready, made him whine for more, as much as his tongue lolled out, fluttering with every panted breath. He needed more, so much more, to serve, to be nothing more than a servant to all. His cock leaked a weak trail of pre-cum and no more of that, making him grind and buck, prey to the needs of his body.

The lizard laughed at him, shaking their head.

"Damn, we really got ourselves a needy bitch this time, didn't we? Such a bitch, a slut... I'd say all Perros are, but you fell to your knees before even the first order came, didn't you?"

Hung yelped obediently, agreeing with him. He didn't remember how it had happened anyway, not really, only that he loved every single moment of his new existence, despite the ache deep in his loins. It didn't matter, if he was pleasing, as long as he was doing what he was supposed to.

A good bitch served. A good bitch pleased. That was all that he had to worry about, no more than that.

Still, the lizard ejaculating under his tail was pleasant, until he pulled out, leaving a messy, slick, wet cream-pie of seed in his wake. Cum dripped and oozed out of Hung's tail hole, betraying how productive the Savra had been as he spent himself inside the Perro. Hung moaned, tail wagging contentedly, right where he wanted to be.

He didn't know that his dick had been caged for days, wanting to get hard, properly hard, and unable to. All he knew was that he loved his life, all that they did to him, everything he could do to serve everyone on the base. But there was one on the base who he looked up to more than anyone else, the one who his eyes would go to even if he was in a room filled to the brim with so many others that he had to please.

The door opened, welcoming a wave of low-level noise from the corridor outside. Hung had not even noticed how busy the base had become after his fuck, though the days passed in a blur. All he needed to worry about was serving, while the rest of his basic needs, such as eating and defecating, were taken care of as if he was a pet that received everything they needed on a set schedule.

But it was who strode through the door with a smile on his face and his tail flicking behind him that made Hung's heart leap and stomach lurch.

"Master!"

For, even though he referred to all on the base with respect, the Feline was his Master, not just a master, the best, most lustful master that he could ever have hoped to have. The striped Feline, orange and black as a tiger, stood not as tall as most, but was stocky and sturdy, thickly built and powerful. However he looked, Hung would have adored him. His master would always take care of him, Hung knew, even if, to an outside perspective, it was quite likely that Hung was not being taken care of as a person on the base at all, much less as one of the Infected. He didn't have to know that, however, not when his master had much in mind for him, always a master with a plan.

He leapt into his master's arms as they were opened for him in an invitation, his master welcoming Hung's attention, the feel of a smaller, slimmer body pressing up to him. Hung made himself as small as possible, as if he was nothing more than a little pup, as he curled up in the tiger's arms, whining and lapping over his muzzle, his chest, wherever his master allowed him to. Rumbling a laugh, the Feline squeezed him in lightly against his chest in the version of a hug that he could do while cradling the slave in his arms.

"You have come far, slave."

Hung shivered. Oh, how he had!

But he didn't know... He just agreed with what his master told him. Because his master was always right.

*

In his own room, not a dormitory, the Feline leaned back against the wall for leverage, standing with his hands on Hung's thighs. It was not an unusual position, yet it was made even more powerful as his abdomen pressed against Hung's back, his cock slamming into the Perro's anal ring, destroying it.

Hung howled, head thrown back against his master's shoulder. Well, it was not really decimated, but it was a good thought to have, as if his body was so small and so fragile that his strong, powerful master could take him any way that he pleased and he couldn't do anything about it. Not that Hung would have wanted to do anything about it, held in his master's arms, arms back around the tiger's neck, clinging on wherever he could just to be a good slave, letting him thrust and thrust into his aching, tightening tail hole with raw abandon.

There was nothing tame and nothing gentle about the times that his master fucked him, but he didn't need that, not as he howled and did his best not to writhe, putting everything he had into vocalisations of his pleasure. His thighs were spread as his master dug his fingers into them, holding him there, his body on show, though there was no one else in the small bedroom, private for the moment. That was a different thing, for the door to whatever room he was being fucked in was usually left open, just so that anyone who wanted in on the action could take him as they pleased. He didn't mind that, welcomed it, but there was something about more personal attention too that made Hung whimper with raw need.

He didn't have to experience pleasure, however. That was not necessary for a sex slave, though those that had observed Hung could easily see that it made them more eager to please, which was a very good thing. Therefore, maybe it was something that could be applied to future slaves that they brought into the compound too, all to serve them, to please them. Yet there would never again be one with such single-minded, kinky intent as Hung.

His tongue lolled out, a bitch enjoying sex, the act of being fucked, even though he could not cum. He might have had a false orgasm several times already, his whole body aching, tingling, down to the tips of his fingers. He thought it was better that way though, the Perro completely unaware that that was something that he had been conditioned to think, something that he had been conditioned to love. He didn't know that wanting big cocks crammed up his arse and to never be allowed to cum (even if loved ejaculating too) was something that could be trained.

A sex slave, after their mind had been broken to lust, could be found to be an entirely different creature, after all...

Hung's need was single-minded, as if he could not think about a thing other than sex, of pleasing his master. It was not what he might have imagined his life to be, but it was how it was, whimpering, whining, arching his back, grinding back onto that hard, thick length with undue lust. He could have it multiple times over during a single day, but Hung could not simply get enough of it, crying out his pleasure and passion, again and again, languishing in it all.

A slave should not have taken as much pleasure as he did, pre-cum messily marking his chastity cage, the metal bars allowing his flesh to squash against them and partially through them, his rampant cock straining to break through. It gave his body the illusion that freedom could be had, even though that was a fallacy, something that would never be true for him, never again. His tail hole tightened around that thick length and he howled, dropping to a moan, the tiger only pulling back a couple of inches with every thrust.

He liked being buried inside the slut too much for anything else, after all. There was no sense in not using a willing, tight hole like that when it was offered to him. The Feline thrust and thrust, his anal ring forced to spread, to stretch around the thickest part of his master's cock, right at the base, though Hung howled through it all.

"Ah, please, master, please! Thank you... Thank you for taking this slave!"

Hung did not even know that he still had a name as a sex slave. It was not as if he heard it anymore. Pre-cum flowed down his cock, glistening on the cage, a tease on his nuts as it streamed even to the floor. It was as if the dog's massively swollen, fat, needy nuts were so desperate for relief that they could not help but leak all over the place, leaving a streak of fluid that told the tale of his passion.

He always knelt before his master when the chastity device was fitted, never objecting to it. Anything that his master gave him was a gift, something that he could accept and show his devotion to his master through. That, in itself, was one of the greatest gifts that he could give as good and as great a master as his. It was a pride and a pleasure, to him, to have the chastity device from his master in place, to know that he was doing his master's will, the only and the most important master that he had ever known.

If Hung was ever without his master, he might have found him sorely lost, without a will and a path in the world. But that was not what mattered, not what he had to think about, not in a moment like that.

"Unnnnghhhh!"

To please. To serve. His master snarled as he pounded Hung. The Perro howled, whimpering, moaning, broken sounds cutting through, a ragged, raw cry that didn't even sound as if it should have come from his lips. None of it sounded like him, but that was just how he was, whimpering and whining, a slutty bitch for his master's cock.

It didn't matter that his body was changing, that he was Infected. To be honest, it was not even something that Hung thought about. He would be taken care of there, as he always had been at the base, and nothing more had to concern him with the fat cock pounding his arse, thrusting, grinding, startling moan after moan from his lips.

"Hnnnnnghhhh!"

He could not help but groan deeply, tongue pushing out.

"Yes... Master... Master, let me serve youuu!"

He might have orgasmed then, if not for the cage, the failed kind of climax sweeping over him, bristling through his fur, the hackles at the back of his shoulder blades rising, a little higher, closer to his neck. It swept through the captured Perro, Hung moaning, his tongue lolling out in a heady splatter of drool that the dog didn't even notice. What could it matter to him when he was pleasing his master, doing everything for him? Mess didn't matter... That would be for the Perro to clean up later, even as need clawed at him, desperately ripping, tearing, wanting more from him.

But that was not for Hung to allow himself, not in any way, no. It was for his master to decide, his orgasm in his master's hands. As his tail hole strained around the fat beast of his master's cock, he knew that everything was right with the world. There was nothing more that he could do, despite "needing to cum", a failed thought at the back of his mind that was pushed aside, crudely and roughly, by his servitude.

The push of his master's cock was all he wanted as he moaned for him, tail wagging faintly back against the tiger's stomach. The grunts of his master filled his ears, so sweet, so masculine, so much everything that Hung could never have been. It was not for him to take a dominant position, no, never a position of leadership. Being down on his knees suited him better in every way, a submissive little fuck-bitch who was the best at sucking cock and taking dick, pleasing women, doing everything for them, whether his dominant of the moment was a master or a mistress.

It didn't matter, not in the pleasure of it all, wracking lust powering through him, pulse after pulse. There was something to come that day, he was sure of it, but whatever it was that his master had told him had gone from his mind already.

"Unff... Such a good bitch you've turned into..." The Feline grunted in his ear, sharp teeth nibbling at his soft, Perro ears. "Tight still... Good."

Hung's heart surged. Yes! Yes, he'd been a good boy for his master!

The door opening while they were in the throes of passion, his master fucking him harder and faster, close to climax, was not unusual. But what was unusual was familiar, outside eyes locking onto him as his master groaned and filled the air with the lewd sound of his cock fucking a sloppy, wet hole.

Hung's eyes widened, the room seeming to freeze, if only for a moment. Some... Some he didn't recognise, though it was obvious that they were from Rhode Island from how they were dressed, too clean to be a part of any fight, really. Yet the Doctor...Danna... They were there, at the head, eyes hidden behind their cowl, a hood pulled up over their head and low over their forehead, a long, black coat falling to their mid-calves. A visor protruded out over their eyes, yet it had been a long, long time since Hung had seen their eyes.

It had not been long enough for Danna to forget what the Perro leader they had lost, however, looked like.

Eyes widened, locking onto him, weapons in hand. Yet all there refused to move, his master leaning back a little more firmly against the wall for support.

"Unff... Something you want here, Rhode scum? Don't think it's interested in you anymore."

Hung whimpered, shaking his head, tail trying to pin down, though he still wanted his master's cock. Ostentatiously, his Master flicked the light switch on with his tail, showing all in there what Hung had become, displayed at his most sexually promiscuous, his cock in chastity, facing out towards them, all with nowhere to hide.

"Da... Danna?"

He struggled to get the word out, the name that had once been so stringent, so much a part of his everyday conversation, a name that he held dear. Oh, he recognised Doctor, of course, but he had always called them Danna, a gesture of familiarity that had kept them close. But at that moment he wanted to be anywhere else but before them, somewhere else entirely with his master, all so that he could please his master and not be humiliated.

Even if he was a sex slave...the memories of his past life, what had been so important to him before could not be set aside entirely. It was all a part of what made him who he was, the sex slave he was, even though he had thought that that part of his life was something that he could leave behind.

Maybe not so easily. Not that he wanted to go back to any of it either...

"Hung..." The previously silent Doctor tried to speak, raising their hand. "Hung, what are... Hung, we've come for you! How are you like this?"

It was almost accusing, though it was not intended to be. It was not his fault, yet it felt like his fault, as if Hung was guilty of something that even the Perro could not deny made him happier than he had ever been before.

His master grunted, his cock throbbing inside his backside.

"Speak up, little bitch... Your friends want to hear you talk."

Hung shuddered. He would not disobey his master.

"Da... Danna... Please..." Hung whimpered, shaking his head. "Listen... This... They... They helped me, Danna... But don't look... I... Ohhh... I don't want..."

Yet Hung could not stop them from looking, his cheeks and neck burning with heat, even the insides of his ears warmer than they should have been. The dog's head spun, before her as nothing more than a sex slave, yet it felt more like an ascension to him rather than degradation. However could it possibly be a bad thing when it made him feel as good as it did?

"Don't...look..."

Hung panted heavily, his head rolling from side to side. He'd once been an operator... Yet that was nothing in comparison to all that he had moved on into, his life as a servant, a sex slave.

The tiger, however, would not let him hide himself. He forced Hung to spread his legs even wider, not that the dog had any control over himself and his body in that regard either, the slop of his cock pounding into his backside overcoming everything in the room. Nobody could look away as Hung's lowest of the low side was shown to everyone, to everyone who had known him, to everyone who had loved him.

To everyone who had looked up to him.

Hung struggled, fighting with his mind. The pleasure was too great, the devious passion of serving his master, of being on show. It would not have been wrong, as he moaned aloud, if he was serving his master in front of others at the base. So why was it strange if he was serving in front of his old comrades.

The dog whined. They were not his comrades anymore. He knew enough to know that he was one of the Infected, that there was nothing he could do about it. Yet he did not fight against it anymore, embracing it, regardless of the life it would lead him into. He had to, for there was nothing else he could do at all, grunting, whimpering, twisting back and forth with passion.

His master growled, letting him buck and writhe, impaling himself on the Feline's cock as if it was all he could think about. Quickly, too quickly, thoughts of modesty and decency before his comrades slipped away, for both his indoctrination and his training had been too complete, overwhelming him.

His body wanted to scream in climax, yet it was denied to him all over again, everyone staring at him in horror as his cock pulsed against the cage of the chastity device. It bulged out, straining for an orgasm that it could never reach, but that did not stop him from grinding back onto the cock penetrating him. His master even stopped thrusting so that everyone there could see what a slut he had become as he moaned, the Perro licking his lips, tail wagging.

No... No, nothing was wrong as he did his best to grind back onto his master's cock, impaled and held up as he was, his arms tightening back around the tiger's neck. The Feline laughed out loud, a low chuff of air brushing the back of his neck, but nothing could take away from the Perro's joy in being as he was, proud of himself, his position in life, no more than that.

Why would he ever need anything more when everything was perfect as it was already? It didn't matter that they shook their heads, weapons lowering. It didn't matter that they would never again see him in the same light. He didn't need them to. He only needed to be there, serving, a slutty bitch Perro who did everything he was told and made others happy with his body.

"If you were not so late," the Feline said, cock throbbing within Hung's anal passage, "perhaps you could have saved him. Or maybe this was the life that this bitch was always meant to have anyway..."

Hung moaned even as his comrades turned away. Feeling that his bitch was so very close to being completely broken, shoved down so far that he could never again go back to being the Perro he had once been, the tiger master signalled to his men, who were waiting on the other side of the open door. It had been orchestrated that those from Rhode Island had been allowed in, of course, even if he had not expected the Doctor to come with them. That had been a delicious little extra and he had no fear of any of them, not with his people near. Their weapons, most likely, had already been disarmed while they had been engaged with staring at Hung.

They stared and the Feline knew that the time was perfect. There would never again be a more ideal time than what they had right there before them.

One part of the Perro that was not always paid due attention to was the horn on top of his head, even though his body was that of a dog-like anthro. His master smirked, fingering them with wicked intent. There was no feeling in them, except right at the base where the skin and fur grew up a little around them, in the thick of his hair, but the Perro shivered regardless.

"Your horn is inconvenient, Hung..." The Feline taunted him. "They get in the way... These make you...less of a sex slave."

Hung whined. Oh no! What could he do about that? He had never known that his horn was such an issue, though there was still something about it that had some at the base clutching it in the throes of sex, finding joy in dragging his head down onto a cock or into a pussy.

"Gnnnnnhhhhhffff!"

He groaned, head distant, reality far, far away. His horns... He'd thought they were useful... But what if they weren't?

"You should saw them off, Hung, his master suggested, planting the impression in his mind that time, rather than simply giving a direct order. "They're better on the ground. Show them how low you've fallen, your complete devotion to me. Saw them off and you shall be rewarded..."

Hung yelped, his eyes wide, shining with delight. Oh, yes! That was a wonderful idea, a fantastic idea - how could it possibly be anything else when it had come from his master? There were men there, men that worked for his master, and they carried a saw, the Perro panting, heaving, eyes shiny with glazy joy.

"Yes, master, yes, please..." He begged. "Please saw them off... I don't need them anymore, I don't need anything you don't need. Use me... Use my body! Do anything you want to me, master! I am forever in your service!"

His master snarled, pulling his lips back from his teeth, for the moment of his orgasm could not be held back again, after so long spent edging, wanting to see his broken little bitch reduced even more. There would be no lower that the Perro could be forced, not after such a time, unable to see or think of anything other than being a sex slave to everyone there.

Yet the tiger trembled lightly as he unloaded inside the Perro, his hot spunk flowing deep, trickling out messily around the girth of his cock. The dog's tight anal ring pulled around him as if it was trying to drag his cock deeper still, the Perro trembling against him. Yet he emptied his nuts into the dog as his men approached with the saw in hand, ready to steady the Perro and hold him firm.

The tiger's cock remained hard under Hung's tail as his head was bowed forward, hands on him, bracing him, but keeping his head away from his master while the saw brushed up, almost tenderly, against his horn. It was no lover's kiss, however, as the saw raked back and forth, grinding through, the teeth catching, fragments of bone fluttering free along with ill-timed slivers when the saw did not slide through in an even path.

Yes... Yes... With hot cum under his tail, the dog was in his element, not caring that his old companions were right there before him. Better to let them see who he had become, all that he was! It was how he wanted it to be, moaning aloud as first one horn was sawn off with a clunk, his head suddenly lighter than before.

No... No, he had not needed his horn anyway. The Doctor stepped away, muttering something, yet Hung could not focus on that as his horn was removed, content as he was to be there, to be serving, to be everything that his master needed him to be.

Pleasure shot through him, marked as a sex slave forever with his deliberately sawn-off horn, crying out and bucking his hips on that still-hard cock, grinding down hard and fast. He needed it - yes! Always! He needed his master's dick!

It was with that thought in mind that he climaxed, even with the chastity device in place, a stream of cum shooting through, splattering against the cage where his furtively swollen cock had been crushed. It drooled and dripped and still was not as much of an orgasm as a true one, even though he had more pleasure in it than a truly failed orgasm. One broken orgasm through the cold metal, however it had warmed to the flushed heat of his body, was not enough to satisfy him physically, even if he was so much more than he had been mentally. He knew that he lusted for it, that he loved it, heaving, grunting, panting, the room seeming, somehow, to spin around him.

Yes, it was good, so good! To be a slave, to be used, every last part of his body aching with desire. He needed it so very desperately, moaning, grunting, shifting his weight, but his master was already thrusting again, showing him just how he could be even more useful as a slave than before.

There was always more, of course, for a sex slave like him. His time there did not have to soften or come to an end, solely because he had drifted to a state of being that rendered him incapable of being anything else.

Useful. That was all he had to be as his semen flowed to the floor. By putting on a show, he had been useful to his master and he adored that in every way. It was all he needed, all he craved, panting softly, tongue fluttering within his muzzle.

His comrades had turned from him. But he had more in his life to lean into. He had more to do, more to serve, his lust irrevocable.

He did not need his old life.

He was Hung, the sex slave of the Reunion movement.

*

With his comrades knowing that he was there and happy, at least in some capacity, as a sex slave, there was nothing more that they could do for him. Whether willingly or not, Hung was part of the Reunion movement and nothing was going to change that.

He'd been placed in the wall, a special kind of room behind it, for everyone to use. It was the most convenient position for the neediest of the base to take him, to cram into him, using him fervently and passionately. His body rested on a bondage bench on the other side of the wall, the side of the wall that those using him could not see, with only his backside hanging out through the wall.

Of course, his tail protruded too, wagging happily whenever anyone came by, for all he wanted was their attention, to be used. His nuts, well...they were not the main event, not what he had to focus on, even though they were full and swollen, needing orgasm that had been denied to him since...

Huh. Hung blinked, though the small, neat room that his body and head were in was too dark to see. He had forgotten the last time that he had climaxed, though he could remember in vivid detail what the last time his master's cock had sunk into him had been.

Mmm... Hung moaned, tongue lolling out. It was often out of his mouth. But that had been a good fuck from his master, pinned over a chair, his arse pushed high for the tiger to use and abuse however he pleased. His cock had ached so much that time, locked into a plastic chastity device that did not allow his cock to bulge through the bars, though Hung wore whatever chastity cage that his master gave him. The pink one was more humiliating anyway, something that him quivering and squirming, more than easily letting everyone know how small and weak he was.

He liked that. Maybe there were more things like that? A sex slave could like things too, even if they had never considered them before...

Beside him, his information was posted on the wall, depicting who he was, how he had ended up there and what he was there to do, along with a few statistics like height and weight. Everything about a sex slave was recorded, yet his sexual achievements too, where he could most be of use to someone, had also been listed, some perhaps a little superfluous, considering the position he had been locked into.

Name: Hung

Race: Perro

Status: TAMED, infected. Body unstable. Only able to provide current service via receiving anal penetration and his cock, locked in chastity.

Services: ...

_ _

The list was long. But not everything could be done to Hung in the wall, not as the crystalising of his body spread, slowly but surely. There was no holding it back and he didn't mind it, not really, not something he thought about at all. He just wanted to be a good bitch, he wanted to serve. Was that so wrong with him?

Other information: This is what happens when you go against the Reunion movement.

_ _

That final comment, after his long list of sexual notes, was added almost as an afterthought, though it was a warning too, in case anyone at the base thought to go against the Reunion movement. There could be pushback too, even from the inside, and any steps that they could take to ensure that did not become an issue going forward was something those in power had to bear in mind, for the safety and protection of all.

A picture of Hung was also displayed there - two, in fact. One of him to show his features, his Perro face and sawn-off horn, and another to show him being fucked by a cock under his tail while cum dripped down his muzzle from another. He had to be advertised, after all...

"Hm... Don't mind if I do..."

A Kuranta with black hair covering his body - horse-types tended to look at it as hair rather than fur with how it coated them - groped his arse, snorting softly with his nostrils fluttering. Though the horse-type did not care for his comfort, he could grope and tease as much as he wanted, all in line with the slave's public use, which had been set out nicely already on his information card.

He laughed out loud as the Perro yelped within the hole, though it was slightly muffled. The Kuranta liked that, rather a lot. It was good when he was not gagged, for Hung made the best sounds when he was fucked, when there was a hot length of shaft pushing deep inside that slutty hole. He wasted no time in drawing out his hardening cock from his trousers, though they were ragged around the bottom hem from wear and tear: something that was commonplace amongst the Reunion. They were, however, growing in power, going from strength to strength, bit by bit.

All would come right for them in the end, for the Infected could not forever be cast aside, not in that manner. Inside the hole, Hung growled and begged plaintively, wanting to be fucked, wanting to be used, broken to anything in life other than being a sex slave, a broken submissive who only lived to serve, to please.

It did not matter to him that his anal passage was already stretched and dripping with seed from several uses already that day, that he had been left a mess for the Kuranta to find. And it did not matter at all to him either as he took that cock like the professional sex slave he was, a deep length questing into him, the Perro's tail wagging constantly. He could not have stopped it from wagging, not even if he'd been of a mind to. He wanted to show his master of the moment how much he loved it, how much he wanted it, how much he enjoyed it.

There was nothing better to Hung, nothing more that he could possibly have wanted to do with his life, his time, serving the Reunion Movement. With every thrust of the horse's cock, he took it deeply, stretching and straining, yet he barely even felt the pull of pain anymore as he growled softly, tongue lolling out.

He had to pant, yes, even in the darkness trying to cool his body down. There was no need for him to push down instinct, not in any way, his backside easily taking even a long Kuranta shaft.

"Unff... Fucking slut... You like this..."

The Kuranta did not bother trying to coax him into saying that he lusted for it, for Hung's moans already told them what they wanted to know. That was why they'd wanted to hear the Perro loud and clear, all so that his passionate cries and moans of servitude would no longer fall on deaf ears.

He had been wasted with Rhode Island... That's what everyone thought. That's what Hung knew, all as he was pounded, his cock in chastity. He didn't need to be free, didn't even need to know what freedom was. All he needed were those driving, pounding, savage thrusts as he was fucked, all as if he was only a hole. That was all the Kuranta could see, after all, with his tail wagging through the wall, his arse hanging through for everyone's pleasure.

The crystallisation had spread more, causing him some difficulty, but Hung only thought of serving, of pleasing. It was an all-consuming thought, even as his cock was secured within a small chastity device that was too tight around his cock, not even allowing him the delight of his flesh bulging through, a tiny bit more sensation. It was closing and cloying and claustrophobic and he needed it still, addicted to his bondage, his chastity, everything that his adoring Master gave to him.

The horse thrust deeply with a sharp whinny and the Perro's head spun as pleasure shot through him, that cock crushed up against his prostate. Oh yes! Yes, to please, to serve!

"Fuck me, master!" He howled. "Take meeeee!"

He cried out as the horse pounded him, though not even the Kuranta could snatch up his tail when it wagged so fervently, delightedly, using his glutes to thrust, to pound. The slop of the Perro's messy tail hole clung to him with every thrust, driving deeply, aching through him more passionately than ever before.

The Perro screamed, though something else caught his sensitive ears, panting, heaving, straining for another failed orgasm that would not be as pleasurable as he wanted it to be.

"Urf..."

Wait, that wasn't the Kuranta. Who was that?

"Can't you hurry up?" Someone else said, drumming their fingers against the wall. "Can't you see we're waiting, damn it? You can't be the only one to get your rocks off here..."

Behind the wall, Hung did not care that the Kuranta was taking too long with him, snorting and slamming in until, with a proud neigh, he climaxed inside the Perro, adding to the messy slop of cum already slickening his fuck hole. No, all he wanted was more cocks, more cum, everyone to use him. They could do anything they wanted to him, anything at all, and Hung would have accepted it all gladly, as he always did.

The others waiting, for there was a considerable line behind the Kuranta even as they tried to push in, to ease him out of Hung before he was good and done with the sex slave. A horse-type was not to be dissuaded so easily, however, not as his cock ached and throbbed within Hung's massively stretched and strained hole, though the Perro could not have been happier than he was at that moment.

Right there, with a cock stuffing his tail hole, a pleased master behind him, there was nowhere else that he would rather have been. He was serving, doing his duty, playing his part. And that was all that he would have to do for the remainder of his life as a sex slave.

Happily, the dog sighed, tail wagging, a slop of cum pouring from his tail hole as another took the Kuranta's place.

Everything had come right in the end, for him in his servitude to those greater than him.