FSE

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I flipped the light on as I stumbled into the room, still bleary-eyed from my sleep. The fox seemed to have finally fallen asleep too. The piss-tube was full, but it wasn't currently flowing; evidently the fox had been well-trained not to wet the bed as he slept. My lips twitched upwards into a smile. I'd soon remedy him of that... for now, though, there were more pressing needs to be tended. When I wake up after a night's sleep, I inevitably have to take a piss.

Carefully not touching his rubber-sheathed cock, half-limp but held stiff enough from the tight metal ring at its base to be trapped in its prison, I pinched the piss-tube shut, and then held it with my other hand as I moved my fingers towards the fox's muzzle, pushing his own fluids to him.

It took a moment for the fox to wake; I watched the piss level rise at abotu the same speed as his eyelids. He gulped, still asleep, and then gagged and sputtered; the piss ran up the tube towards the funnel and waited for him to stop. I watched him struggle hard against his metal bonds before his strained body gave in again. Then he gulped it down, his face settling into a defeated expression. I think most would have found it pitiful, but pity simply isn't one of my strong points.

I smiled and reached between the bars of the wireframe head-cage to scritch the fur between his ears, like any good pet. He immediately growled, so I dug my claw into his scalp. The growl turned into a whimper and I released my grip. I didn't really mind the noise; in fact, I rather enjoyed seeing his pathetic attempts at resistance.... but that was precisely the problem. If I indicated that I enjoyed them, he'd stop; since I registered my disapproval, he'd try to use it again later. Such is the psychology of the captive.

Grabbing hold of the fox's cage with both hands, I turned it to face the raised platform holding the funnel above. My urgency cheated me of watching his reaction as his eyes first adjusted to the view; I moved swiftly instead to climb the steps and take my place on the platform. I quickly pointed my shaft, already half-hard and protruding from my sheath, into the funnel and let rip. The concentrated odor rose strongly from the funnel, and sank even more strongly.

I watched as the fox's eyes tracked the fluid's descent - slower than it was last night, but definite and inexorable - to its final destination, his muzzle wrinkling back progressively until it finally hit. His eyes widened, and I grinned. I knew from my own taste testing exactly what was crossing his mind right now - the flavor he had experienced last night was concentrated easily ten times over, a bitter explosion that was almost unbelievable as having come from an organic source. I watched him choke and splutter, the fluid pooling in the funnel under my stream. I had planned for that, of course; the funnel was more than large enough to accomodate the back-up.

He finally swallowed, and after another few coughs and sputters, my pet settled down to chugging his morning meal. From a nearby table I took a small bottle of powder, and dumped it on the piss puddle, letting my stream mix it in. It was a nutrient mix I had developed, containing proteins, carbohydrates, and vitamins designed to prevent malnutrition during extended urinal sessions. It tasted bad, but it was being mixed with piss, so I doubted my capitve would complain too much.

My stream began to slow, and I turned away from the funnel, returning to the ground behind the fox and starting to walk in a slow circle around him. There was something absolutely divine about the power I had over him. "Now, my pet, you have a choice." His eyes immediately focused on me; this was the first time he'd been given a choice in anything done to him, and he was attentive enough not to miss it. That boded well for his longevity. "You can stay right where you are for another day..." I watched him try to shake his head, small drops of my scent-mark dripping from the side of his muzzle as he tried to move it in the metal enclosure. "... or you can take your chances on proceeding to the next part of your training." A high-pitched whimper of fear edged out around the gag, and I smiled, the facial expression lost to the fox as I'd circled around behind him again. I'd allow it this once; he'd think he could get away with it from time to time without me noticing.

"Finish your breakfast quickly, and I'll open the part of the cage surrounding your muzzle. Any response that is not 'I'm ready for the next part, sir.' will indicate that you still need time in this setting before moving on to the next." Again the abortive shake of the head, followed by two very large gulps. I could see the water level in the funnel dropping as the fox tried to pull the fluid down actively now, not just chugging but actively filling his mouth as much as he could in order to drink it faster. While the fox gulped, I prepared the next part of his training. In comparison to the last one, it would be light, but still unescapable. It didn't require a great deal of setup, simply a lot of lube.

The sound of a straw hunting for the last drop of milkshake came from the funnel, and I turned around. The fox had finished it all, even faster than I'd expected. I was ready, but I took a few moments, deliberately ignoring the sound that repeated a few times. It was only when I heard the first whimper that I walked back into view, one hand deliberately kept out of view behind my back. I reached up to the muzzle cage, and pressed the hidden release switch, but held the cage together with my hands. "You get one chance at this. Remember, the correct words are 'I'm ready for the next part, sir.'" And with that, I let the cage go.

The fox's jaw dropped open immediately as its restriction was released. I pulled the funnel-gag upwards with the other section of the enclosure, and gave him a moment to stretch the under-exercised muscles, watching him yawn even as he tried to stop himself for fear of me locking it back in. Just to mess with him, I lifted my free hand towards the enclosure, and he hurriedly sputtered out the required response. "I'm ready for the next part.... sir." His lips curled on the last word, obviously not wanting to give me the title of respect but equally obviously having little choice in the matter.

Again, I reached up and scratched him between the ears, and said "Good little fox." He grimaced, but again he surprised me; he said nothing in response. He was canny, this one; if he had spoken, I would've slammed the muzzle cage shut and left him for another day. I took the cloth from behind my back and held it over his muzzle. Even as the surprised expression flashed onto his face, his eyes began to droop, and shortly he was unconscious.

I tossed the chloroform rag on the floor and quickly pressed the multiple release latches on the cage, catching his body as it fell. The fox seemed to weigh less than he had when I lugged him before, but I could see no difference; likely it was because of his forced fluid diet and inability to move. It didn't much matter if his muscles atrophied a little; in fact, it was preferable on the off-chance he escaped. He wouldn't be able to run far.

For now, though, I intended to make escape an impossibility. I carried him over to the huge black latex bag I had custom ordered for him long before his actual capture. Laying him down on it and bending his knees and elbows in the appropriate position, I zipped the sack up and latched the collar of it around his neck. I took a few moments to make sure the sheath and the hole in the rear were lined up properly, then tightened the bands around his chest and waist that pulled in the slack. I didn't bother with padlocks; with his arms and legs securely bound, there was no need for them.

Standing back, I looked at the fox, now on his side. His elbows were bent fully, as were his knees; if he wanted to walk anywhere, he'd have to learn how to walk four-legged on his elbows-and-knees. Of course, that was without considering the other parts of my plan.

While he continued his chemically forced snooze, I set up a pair of bowls in the corner - one for actual solid food, and one for water. I also set up a special litter pan in the corner; composed of small plastic beads, any fluid put into it would drain into a hidden reservoir underneath the main part of the pan. This way I could continue his recyling while giving him relative freedom over his own functions. Then I sat down to wait for him to awaken in his new scenario.

After a short while, he awoke, waking me from a light doze of my own as he tried to get up in his new latex prison. I watched him struggle for a few moments with a grin before walking over and setting him upright on his elbows and knees. Luckily, the latex had a thicker section build in at these parts to avoid painful impacts.

"For now, fox, I'll leave you to get used to your new environment. I strongly suggest you stay in this quarter of the room; it could go badly for you were you to try and wander too far. There's a litter-pan in the corner, and food and water..." I paused with a smile as the fox looked surprised. "...yes, -real- water, in that bowl over there. I suggest you savor it as it's likely to be the last actual water you get for a while." I chuckled as he grimaced, but still said nothing even though his muzzle was no longer confined. "I see you've already learned the first part of being a pet - you don't speak in words, unless asked directly to do so. I will accept whimpers and whines and moans; those are natural sounds that animals make. And make no mistake... you -are- an animal."

I flipped a switch on the wall, and watched him tense in preparation... only to have nothing happen. "This is just a little added bit of insurance. You'll see what it does later. For now, though... since you've been a good fox, you can have a treat." I brought my chair inside the lines that I had painted on the floor, dividing it into quadrants. Sitting back down, I motioned for him to come to me. As he approached, I spread my legs wide, letting him get his first up-close view of my shaft as it bulged from my sheath. I smiled, and simply said "Suck."

The fox hesitated, but then opened his muzzle, gingerly taking the shaft in his mouth. He suckled on it, much like any animal would do with its mother, but I wasn't ready for him to take it completely at his own pace. I swung my legs over his shoulders, then bent them, locking his head to my crotch so he couldn't pull away. My shaft pushed against the back of his throat, and he started to gag, but I wouldn't let him up. After several moments of struggling, he convulsively swallowed, and I let out a hiss of pleasure as the tip of my shaft started down his throat. The tip of my cock is somewhat flexible, apparently for just this reason.

I unhooked my legs finally, letting the fox pull back and splutter and cough. "You'd best get used to that, fox; it's your job, likely for the rest of your life." I waited as his coughing fit subsided, then simply waved for him to continue. He quickly latched back onto my shaft, not even pretending to misinterpret the motion. At this point, I was able to see his shaft starting to peak from its sheath as the chemicals in my pre started working on him.

"Ah, good... glad to see you're enjoying yourself." Instead of hooking my legs over his shoulders again, I lifted one taloned foot to his sheath and gently rubbed it, watching the fox's convulsive shudder as the sensation was heightened by the lubed latex that surrounded it. His shaft appeared almost immediately, and as his knot finally pushed past the latex sheath's resistance, I stopped, letting it hang in the air.

The fox whimpered around my shaft at the sudden cessation of sensation, but I had other plans. "Stop." The fox whimpered again, the addictive properties starting to become apparent to him as he continued to suckle on my shaft for a second before finally easing off, thin strings of my pre-cum sticking to his muzzle as he finally released his prize. "Now... roll over, pup." No hesitation now; he quickly rolled to his side, ending up on his back, the thick red shaft beautifully highlighted against the black latex of his sack-suit.

Leaning over, I wrapped my own muzzle around his shaft. He gasped aloud, then began to murr like a kitten as my tongue wrapped around the length almost three full times. The forked tip of my tongue tickled at his knot, and he wriggled happily in his bondage as I began to suckle his length, feeling it grow against my tongue as I teased him.

It didn't take long for me to get exactly what I wanted. My pet threw his head back against the floor and let out a howl followed by a series of yips as his cock throbbed and convulsed filling my muzzle with his seed. I swallowed the fox seed as it spurted into my maw, pleased that the flavor had already begun to change, tainted by the huge amounts of my piss he had chugged through the night.

The fox's struggles began to take on a new tone as I put a hand on his chest to keep him from being able to get up. I continued suckling his length, even as it became hyper sensitive from orgasm. The fox's whimpers grew louder and louder, and shortly became screams as I mercilessly worked my tongue up and down his length, forcing him through the sensitivity to a second orgasm, thistime much smaller.

This time, I pulled back just in time as the howls reached a painful volume, catching the fox's own seed in my paw instead of my muzzle. I sat up, and reached over to the fox's muzzle, smearing the musky ooze over his face. He was panting heavily, and his eyes were squinched shut from the pain-pleasure I'd just pulled out of him; I don't think he even noticed. Pleased, I stood and watched him a moment before turning to leave.

As I crossed the room, the fox began to struggle, figuring out the right system of bends to get himself upright in admirable time. He started to walk after me, and crossed the quadrant line... and screamed in pain, quickly backpedaling. Without turning, I looked over my shoudler and said "I told you not to leave your corner, fox. Your collar is a shock-collar, tied to an invisible fence to keep you in your place, like a good pet." And with that, I left the room, accompanied by his whines of despair...