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Dustin was the fall guy.

The chipmunk suspected as much before his court proceedings. The realization set in at the final hit of the judge's gavel. Fifty years for embezzlement. He'd only been an accountant. His boss had been nice for years. Golf trips, vacations, and other gifts, all made bitter in retrospect.

Fifty years. A lifetime for one of the biggest financial busts in recent history. He'd stood shocked in the courtroom. A lifetime behind bars without his fiance, without his friends and family. There would be nothing to pick up when he got out, he'd seen enough prison documentaries to know that inmates are forgotten by those they loved. So when a second deal was offered, not an hour after his trial, he took it without a blink.

Five years in an experimental facility. He'd receive no visits from the outside world and no chance at early parole. Five years of prison vs twenty years to parole was a hell of a deal. Second thoughts came once they pulled a hood over his face. His demands to know what they were doing were met with a needle that knocked him out.

Dustin awoke to the whir of engines and dulled ears. A plane? His wrists and ankles were locked by manacles, with a chain looped through some kind of hoop in the floor. When he pulled, he heard a grunt ahead of him, then their back against his face.

Some kind of prisoner transport. But where? Dustin couldn't remember the finer details of the contract he signed. Easy to miss when in a state of despair. His body jilted on the descent, the wheels rolling onto the airway while engines roared to reduce drag. Chains clanked against the plane, more prisoners waking up.

"Settle down!" Shouted an unseen voice, "Not unless you all want to feel the warden's sting on the first day." Dustin stayed quiet, hoping to be missed or at least not associated with the current muffled rants and cries. He clenched his jaw to keep silent but found something wide and rubbery keeping it open.

Someone pulled at his chains. Dustin was forced up and moved forward, blindly following his chain gang off the plane and onto solid stable ground. They ripped the hood off him. Once his squinting eyes adjusted to the newfound sunlight, they opened wide at the concrete block standing in his view. No prison towers, no courtyards, not even a wall. Just a single stone cube standing amongst pine trees and the surrounding ocean all around them, the salty air stinging his nostrils.

"Good morning, new meat." Dustin whipped his head forward, seeing an imposing posse of guards in black police uniforms, led by a tall spotted hyena. She smiled, hands at her back and twirling an old fashioned horse riding crop behind her. "I am Warden Knole. If you prefer, you may call me Mistress Knole or just Ma'am. Anything else is unacceptable and will be punished swiftly." The crash of the waves made it difficult to hear her, but terror helped Dustin focus. "First I want each of you to look to your right, then your left." Without complaint, he did, discovering several furs that did not and that it wasn't only men in his line up. At least eight of the twenty prisoners there were women, and several prisoners had different uniforms.

With a snap of the warden's fingers, several of her guards walked up and tased those that didn't comply. "It seems some of you will need more strict conditions." They were rehooded and unclipped from the group. Ten inmates watched in silence as the defiant ones were dragged away. As to where, Dustin wasn't sure. His eyes never strayed from the warden. "As for the rest of you, welcome to Tartarus. The world's most efficient private prison. Each of you have accepted an extremely shortened sentence and withheld outside contact from the world in exchange for your stay. The severity of your sentences tell me that every single one of you," She pointed her crop to each inmate," Are banes on society. Here, we will make you a better fit for those who actually can breathe without committing a crime. To do this, you will be broken down and reforged. Your name isn't yours anymore, replaced by a number. And we only release numbers if they fit our standards. If we are not satisfied with you when your sentence is up, we will increase your sentence until such standards are reached."

That earned an outcry, and rightly so, but it led to three other inmates being tased and dragged away. "My, what an outspoken bunch. We clearly have our work cut out for us." With a short smirk, she continued and outstretched her riding crop onto the ocean, "We are 100 miles off the mainland, but I'll let you know now that we're strictly in the northern hemisphere. I know for some of you, that's a surprise, given your countries are below the equator. Tartarus is an international facility."

International? Dustin looked out to the ocean surrounding them. There was no land within sight. He remembered that Russia was fifty, maybe fifty-five miles away from Alaska. Was he in Russian waters? Maybe there was an island in the view from the other side. These thoughts were interrupted by the pull of his chain gang. "Get moving!" Called out a guard, "We've got a schedule to keep."

The back of the transport van hindered his view of the island. Each prisoner was pushed together. So close that Dustin was relieved that it was only seven and not the original twenty. From the bumps and elevation, he figured the island was mostly uphill with winding turns.

The guards were as gentle hauling him off the truck as they were getting him on. The chain-gang was led through empty corridors made of drab concrete. One by one they were lined up to a camera. No names were called, no crimes were announced, just an order to face the flashing light.

"Arms up!" Dustin complied. His hands were locked above his head. A guard came by each prisoner with a knife, scissors, or a pair of shears and cut away at the inmates jumpsuits. Not even their undergarments were spared, leaving each inmate naked. Some struggled, earning a swift prodding. Coward that he was, Dustin stayed still as a large bull cut and snipped away his orange jumpsuit. "I like this one," The bull said, grabbing the back of Dustin's head and forcing him to look at the rest of the staff, all grinning at their abuse. "He already knows his place."

"Ruins half the fun of breaking them," Another guard cackled.

Shame and fear gripped at his sides as they made their way to a tiled room with drains across the floor. Three guards took hoses to them. First came a torrent of shampoo with a quick warning to close their eyes. Then came the water. Icy cold and with enough force to push the chipmunk against the wall. The guards laughed, delighted in each muffled scream and struggle of the prisoners. They took special attention to apply pressure against Dustin's junk, like a continuous kick to the nads.

From there, a pair of guards dragged off each prisoner one by one. Dustin's arms were locked in the muscular forearm of a male zebra, and a lioness, who marched him to a single concrete room that he assumed would be his cell. The lack of a bed should have been his first clue.

"Let's see." The zebra flipped through a paper file laid out on a table after hoisting the chipmunk's hands up. "Prisoner #6528. Twenty-six. What do you think he did?"

"Well, he's pretty enough." The snap of rubber gloves echoed across the room. Dustin watched helplessly as the lioness grabbed a long but thin rope, almost like a shoestring, and looped it around his sack. He grunted into his gag, feeling his balls squeeze and pulled into an easy target. "Wanna bet he's some spoiled rich kid that got in way over his head?"

"He wouldn't be here if that was the case." The zebra laughed, slapping on his own pair of rubber gloves, "Course, maybe his old man is teaching him a lesson. Or maybe he's a sick fuck who thought it'd be fun to send his son here."

The lioness shrugged, putting the finishing touches on her tie and pulling the string through a metal loop in the floor. "Not our place to judge. Not sure why you make up backstories for convicts. You're never gonna get an answer."

Backstories? Dustin's confusion must have been plain as day from the smile across the zebra's face. "Oh, the prisoner's confused. Should I tell him?"

"It ain't gonna change anything." She handed him the rope, "Pull if he struggles."

Taking it in one hand, the zebra grabbed Dustin's chin in the other and grinned wickedly. "You ever seen a prison movie, 6528?" He asked. Dustin's lack of answer earned his balls a pull and a tight squeeze on his chin. "I said, have you ever seen a prison movie, 6528?"

"Keep him steady!" The lioness admonished. She popped some kind of bottle behind Dustin, "You've got plenty of time to fuck with him later."

"But the first day's almost the funnest." Dustin still hadn't nodded, and the zebra sighed at that. "Christ. Ok, well you know how prisons end up breaking down an individual, despite that being pretty controversial? After all, prisoners are people too, right?" The chipmunk didn't so much as know that as he figured it made sense, so he nodded. All the better to focus on the zebra over whatever the lioness was about to do. "Good, you're not stupid. Well, in Tartarus, you're not a person and we don't even pretend to humor it. None of the guards here know your name or where you came from. We just know your sentence. To all of us, you're just a number."

Two cold and slimy fingers braced his backdoor and slipped past. Dustin yelped into his gag, kicking his legs from side to side. A tight pull from the noose around his cock kept the chipmunk steady. "Tight ass." The lioness observed, "Hey, 6528, try to push like you're in the bathroom, just not too hard. It'll make this easier."

His instincts fought against him, but the firm cord won out in the end. Dustin shuddered and carefully pushed. The lioness sank her fingers into his rectum. "Keep relaxing, just gotta dig around for contraband." Easier said than done, given that Dustin had never had anything enter his ass. Her fingers prodded along his inner walls. He bit into his gag, then moaned once a certain button was pressed.

"Oh, looks like you found his prostate." The zebra said, smiling as he let go of the chipmunk.

"Course I found it." The lioness's finger rubbed against the button, "You know how many convicts I milk?" Dustin clenched to push the guard out and stop the new sensation. A swift few spankings put him back in line. "I said keep yourself relaxed!" She roared, "God, newbies are so annoying."

"That's because you're impatient." The zebra pulled out a thin metal rod and held it up to Dustin's face, drinking in the fear the chipmunk carried. "You gotta savor these fucks. Not like we'll get to see their expressions after this." Slimy hands washed over the chipmunk's junk. Dustin winced and shivered to the touch. His dick lined up against the rod. He struggled not to look down and prayed that not seeing would prevent it somehow.

He gave in. Eyes wide, Dustin watched the thin rod slide into his urethra. His fists clenched and he cried out, feeling the burn of alcohol running through him. "Sorry, bitch." The zebra's tone betrayed his words, "Gotta make sure the tools are clean before using it. Wouldn't want an infection."

Betrayed by his body, Dustin's erection raised itself. The zebra chuckled with cruelty, "I think 6528 is a masochist. He's getting hard from this." The rod sank further down the straight urethra, past what the chipmunk hoped for. "There we go, right in your bladder. Ain't that just lovely?"

"That a hollow one?" The guard behind him asked, "I can't milk him if it's solid."

"Course it is. We want a steady stream." Tears rolled down Dustin's cheek as the two guards conversed casually. Both ends were penetrated and toyed with, scratching at his walls like a dam being battered with wave after wave, cracking under the pressure. He'd given into their torments, keeping still in the hopes it'd go by quickly. Without a clock, the chipmunk had no way to tell if a minute or more passed.

So he stood and waited for what felt like an eternity, until he felt the mixed sensation of peeing and a shivering surge rippling through his body. "Oh, there it is!" The zebra held a jar underneath the chipmunk's cock, filling it with his seed until the tap went dry. "First batch for DNA. I'd complain about the choice if I didn't find this so fun."

"Course you do." The lioness removed her fingers and replaced them with a wide filling plug before Dustin could enjoy the empty feeling. "Now can you get his cage on already? I don't wanna waste more time than needed on one prisoner."

"Yeah, yeah," The zebra said dismissively. Dustin mewled into his gag as the guard pressed an ice pack against his privates. Soft again and numb from the chill, he noticed the lube massaged into his sack by the slippery noises. Then came the pull of his balls through a metal ring, followed by a rod slipping down his urethra again. "Think they'll let him out on good behavior?" The zebra asked, fingering the chipmunk's cock into the cage to avoid any pinching.

"Not our problem," Said the lioness, "Why, you wanna suck him off?"

"That was one time!" A metal click followed the zebra's complaint, leaving Dustin with a weighted sensation from his crotch, "Jeez. You suck off one inmate to tease them and suddenly everyone thinks it's part of your routine."

"Cause you're the only one who did it." She snapped back, "If I want an inmate to get their dick sucked, I'd just use another inmate. And even then, it's more for the other inmate sucking someone off."

"Yeah, yeah." The zebra rolled his eyes. He grabbed Dustin's gag, his brow narrow when he spoke, "We're gonna take a few restraints off so we can put your uniform on. I don't want any struggles or any peeps out of you, that clear?" When Dustin only blinked, the zebra grabbed his neck and pulled him closer. "Pro tip, don't make a guard repeat their questions."

With a shiver from the zebra's deep voice, he nodded. Dustin's restraints and gag were removed, leaving him naked save for the small metal chastity cage. The sound built into it rubbed his insides with every minor movement. Each breath was a struggle not to wince.

The rubber latex didn't help. Orange and stretchy, Dustin felt it pull his flesh and fur along his arms as the two guards pulled it over his limbs. They poured lube across his body to ease it over, but it could only do so much without their hands and fingers pushing his body down the second skin. He panicked with the hood, losing his sight for a short moment while strong hands pulled it over his head and manipulated everything to fit into the proper hole. "He said to be quiet!" The lioness growled and slapped the latex bulge that was perfectly balled around his privates. The rubber, to his surprise, shielded most of the blow.

He keeled over all the same, reflexively pulling his legs in to protect himself. "Newbie's still got his reflexes. Wonder how long they'll last?" Locking his wrists behind him, the zebra shoved the gimp chipmunk along, "Get moving, 6528!"

Gagged again, Dustin's pleas were too muffled to come out coherent. Not that either the zebra or lioness cared as they pushed him along. Pointless to beg, he turned his attention to the prison. Concrete hallways with guards, checkpoints, and bars, but he hadn't seen any cells yet. He did see other prisoners, though the orange latex covering them made it impossible to tell if they arrived with him, or were inmates before that.

"Here it is." The zebra halted Dustin with a swift grip on his head. "Home sweet home." The door was bolted like an isolation room. He blinked, looking right and left to find every door along the walls the same. Was he not supposed to be in a cell?

The open door gave more questions. The fear that pulsed through him knocked them away. His 'cell room' had no more space than a shipping crate, with an indent made of a fur his size and a thick plug standing tall where he was to sit. The two guards unlocked his arms and shoved him in, restraining them above his head. Backing into his flight response, Dustin thrashed where he could, but both the tight latex and the strength of the guards held him down and forced the wide plug into his backside, filling him wide.

"How long till he breaks?" The lioness asked as she plugged an IV through the hole in the latex bulge of Dustin's crotch. "I'm willing to bet a month."

"A month? Nah, I bet a week." The zebra pulled out his gag and shoved a locking tube in before Dustin could beg. "He seems like a whiner." They fashioned a headset over his eyes, robbing the chipmunk of any sight. He heard the guards chuckle amongst themselves as the door closed shut and then the footsteps faded. Then nothing but silence.

Maddening silence. Long stretches of an empty void that were broken only by the squeaking rubber whenever he rubbed his head. Not that he had much movement to do so, the box's padding molded around him like clay or soft amber sap. He breathed in and out, steadily to remind himself he was still alive.

In and out.

In and out.

The rubber's scent grew stronger with each breath. He tasted it against the gag in his mouth. His tongue circled around the tube hole with wonder of what was to come. The plug in his ass firmly stayed despite his clenching. He continued to breathe.

In and out.

In and out.

Light streamed before his eyes. A black screen with the words 'Welcome to Tartarus' appeared in his vision. "Welcome, prisoner 6528," a robotic feminine voice said, though his number and specifics were read off in a separate tone, as though spliced in. Text on the screen mirrored every word. "You have been found guilty of embezzlement with a sentence of fifty years without parole. In exchange for a shorter sentence of five years, you have opted to take part in the Tartarus rehabilitation program. In doing so, you have admitted that the person you were before did not belong in society, and have consented to reprogramming to better fit into what society needs."

What? Dustin blinked. The text before him made little sense. Reprogramming? The plug began to vibrate before he could think more. "Do not struggle." The voice stated. He ignored it, frantically moving in the tiny space with no room to panic. "Drones do not struggle. Drones obey."

The chipmunk cursed back. The tube in his maw spritzed something into him, turning his tongue numb. "To begin your reprogramming, it is imperative that you realize that you are not a person. You are a drone. Drones obey." The black screen began to swirl. Dustin closed his eyes, but the audio kept playing. "Drones belong in society. Drones fulfill what their owners require of them. An obedient drone is a happy drone. An aroused drone is a happy drone. A drone stays aroused, never climaxing." Vibrations pooled around his crotch. Dustin whimpered, his eyes cracking open to see the swirling lights and flying text.

"An aroused drone is a happy drone. An obedient drone is a happy drone. A drone does not pass the edge."

Whimpering, his eyes followed the screen and lost themselves in the swirl. His sentence had truly begun.