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Early in the morning, at around three o'clock, Tristan began to awaken from his slumber.

The well-muscled, rather large dark-furred fox stretched his limbs out and betrayed a broad yawn; clad in a modest outfit consisting of his trusty, well-worn black combat boots and a pair of somewhat-baggy blue jeans. A pair of thick, black, fingerless leather gloves covered his strong forepaws.

As he woke, Tristan began to sit up on the ragged couch on which he was seated; the only piece of furniture in his otherwise-bare living room. His strong, masculine musk emanated from his thickly-furred armpits; having not bathed in quite a few days.

The fox's ears perked to attention as he heard the slightest creaking sound from the kitchen. The sliding glass door. Someone was in there; someone that didn't belong. Was it a thief? Was it a bum looking for a place to sleep? Was it a basehead looking for loose things to pawn off? He didn't know. But what he did know was that he didn't like visitors; and he was in no mood to entertain.

With a notable creak of the wooden floorboards beneath, the tall, muscular fox stood up at a staggering height of six feet and five inches. He began to stalk through the living room towards his kitchen, his boots creaking ever so softly beneath his massive feet as he flicked on the light to the kitchen.

Tristan's left ear twitched to the sound of soft, fleeting footsteps. Soft; but not silent. A low growl emanated from his throat as he opened his mouth to speak, raising his muzzle to sniff the air intently for his prey. "Whoever you are, I know you're here. Come out and show yourself," he said in a low, commanding tone of voice.

Almost as if on cue, the soft yet hurried sound of creaking floorboards could be heard from the opposite side of the room. Tristan followed the sound (and accompanying scent) all the way down two floors into his basement; keeping a distance of about three feet behind his quarry, wanting to corner them before giving himself away.

The would-be intruder fumbled clumsily with a flashlight, managing to flick it on as he managed the poorly-lit staircase; helped only slightly by the first rays of the rising morning sun.

As Tristan began to catch up to his quarry, he caught a glimpse of their form; it was a male, canid of some sort. About a foot, maybe foot and a half shorter than he was. Scrawny little fucker.

A yelp escaped his throat as he finally tripped down the final set of stairs; dropping his flashlight and stumbling down into the cold stone flooring of the house's basement. He landed on his face with a sound thud and his light landed right beside his head, turning off with a soft click.

As he rolled slowly onto his back, he rubbed his head with a soft groan. "Oh shit..." he said, looking up at the angered, muscled vulpine looming above him; only growing closer with time. After a scant few seconds had passed, Tristan planted his feet firmly onto the floor of the basement. He reached a hand down and yanked him up by the long, flowing hair flowing from his head; met with a soft yip on his captive's part as he rose to his feet.

Tristan took this time to calmly look over his new catch; looking him over from head to toe. His hair was a gorgeous shade of yellow. Long, tied into braids on the side. A cute face with bright green eyes; sparkling a bit from tears forming quickly from fear. And a mask-esque marking, not unlike that of the common raccoon despite the boy's otherwise-foxlike appearance. Purple, drooped ears completed the visually-appealing ensemble of this individual's head.

The dominant male's gaze continued to shift downwards, drinking in the detail of this apparent fox-raccoon hybrid's wardrobe. He wore a grey Monster Magnet t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and no footwear on his hindpaws; the perfect light wardrobe for someone wanting to sneak about undetected. Tristan noted that his tail was striped as well, black fur mixing with the brownish-orange colour fur that otherwise dominated the majority of his body.

"What's your name, boy?" The darker-furred fox said in a calm, regular tone of voice. The smaller male bit his lower lip gently, shying away ever-so-slightly as he remained silent; not wanting to somehow incriminate himself any further.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!" Tristan repeated, barking a bit this time and spitting in the fraccoon's face, eliciting a blush from the latter. He closed his eyes and whimpered a bit, but didn't respond much otherwise.

Tristan paused for a moment to contemplate his options. This boy wasn't going to give in easily, that much was obvious; he'd have to use drastic measures.

"C'mere..." he growled, dragging the uncooperative little runt deeper into his basement. Its thick scent immediately hit the young frack's nostrils, met with a grimace; the combination of easily months' worth of smoked cigars, bodily fluids, musk, and only God knew what else culminating into one fragrant, thick stench.

Tristan dragged him close to the ensemble of the room, a rugged, black rubber couch; traditional in style with only the thick rubber and the even thicker, twelve-inch rubber cock embedded in the center setting it apart. In front of it stood a fairly boring, average coffee table; an ashtray perched atop it with a few old cigarettes left crushed inside.

The ebony-furred fox gave his new catch a firm shove square in the chest, sending him crashing back against the rubber furnishment with a surprised squeal. "Cry all you want, kid... nobody's gonna save you now," Tristan said, the hybrid gasping and panting for his breath as he began to collect himself; the much larger fox simply taking a cigar from a cargo pocket and sliding it between his lips.

As he chomped down on the cigar, Tristan lit it up with a black disposable lighter; setting it back down on the table and taking a deep draw. He exhaled the thick smoke into the smaller fox's face, eliciting the expected coughs and tears as it filled the boy's nostrils. The larger male puffed liberally on his cigar as he spoke.

"We can do this the easy way..." he said, looking softly into the boy's fearful eyes as he moved in; the frack's head tracking him closely as he creeped closer, "...or we can do it the hard way," he finished, bringing the hybrid's head down to the embedded rubber toy's level with a single paw and smacking his face gently with it. "Your call."

"O-okay... I give, man," the frightened, ashamed fraccoon responded as he opened his eyes, looking up at the dominant fox towering over him. He quivered a little bit and took a deep breath before he began to speak again, "my...my family's poor as shit and my little brother has cancer. I was thinking maybe I'd steal a few things here, sell a few things there, help pay for his chemo..."

He began to trail off again, knowing that his blatant fabrication wasn't gonna fly as he saw Tristan's shaking head. A deep flush overcame his face, now knowing that all the bullshitting and squirming in the world wouldn't do him any good. And he certainly didn't wanna know what that thick dildo was capable of doing to his innards. A shudder overcame him from sheer arousal; despite his current predicament, the fox-raccoon hybrid was very turned on by the larger male, a noticeable bulge visible in the front of his trousers.

A soft gulp escaped his throat as he finally decided to fess up. "Ceeb... my name is Ceeb Longhair," he finally said. This much Tristan could already tell to be true, judged by the slightly more relaxed tone of his voice and the look in his eyes.

"It's a start..." Tristan said, grabbing Ceeb by the hair again and yanking him back up onto his feet; now gazing down at him with a soft growl before whispering into his ear, releasing his headfur, "...now strip for me."

The hybrid nodded quietly as the dominating fox stepped back, starting with his shirt. He slid the grey garment off and let it fall to the ground, revealing perky, pink nipples aroused by the cold musty basement air.

Tristan grinned and nodded softly in approval, rubbing the front of his own trousers a bit as a bulge began to form in them. He too was aroused by the situation, Ceeb noted; apprehensively reaching his hands down to unbuckle and unfasten his trousers before sliding them down to his ankles, revealing tight-white underwear.

"A little excited, eh there boy?" Tristan remarked with a smirk. Ceeb nodded quietly, gazing softly up into his captor's eyes as he responded. "Y...yes, sir," he responded, his voice quaking.

"Mmm, good... me too. Maybe I'll be able to make some use outta you after all..." Tristan replied, easily dropping the final garment on his body to the ground; revealing that fully-erect, pink seven-inch member of his.

The large fox growled warmly in approval and reached a leather-bound forepaw down to fondle and squeeze the frack's sensitive orbs gently; eliciting a moan as he kissed softly along his neck. "Th-thank you sir..." he moaned. "Call me 'Master'," Tristan said, chuckling softly to himself, "you will be my spank slave."

Ceeb gulped at this, laughing nervously for a moment only to stop the next; realizing that the fox was quite serious, perhaps even a bit mad. "And you're most welcome, my boy... as I'm sure you've noticed by now I've grown quite horny myself," he continued, "first we will need to get through the initial punishment of course. Ninety-three smacks on that cute little rump of yours ought to do it... then I'll fuck you raw and dump my load off before tying you up for the night and retiring to my cozy bed upstairs."

The fraccoon felt his ears pressing back against his head as the black-furred dom explained what would be happening, nodding softly as if to indicate acceptance (and perhaps a twinge of consent) to his fate. "And I'll be counting how many 'treasures' you tried to abscond with to determine how long your stay here will be," Tristan added, sitting down on the couch and leaning back; putting his 'gar out in the ashtray and leaving it there. Ceeb nodded quietly and moved obediently with him, bending himself over Tristan's lap as he spoke.

"Yes Master..." Ceeb replied meekly, closing his eyes and bracing himself for impact. [SMACK!] And with that began the first of ninety-two more firm, relentless strikes to come. Tristan chuckled softly to himself as the frack yelped, his rump giving a firm smack and beginning to redden as the kitsune pulled his hand back to smack it again. "Mmm... such a cute pet... there's a good little bitch," he spoke softly.

The pair went on like this for easily another hour or two, Tristan's member straining hard against his jeans and Ceeb's own arousal not hidden in any way shape or form as the black fox delivered a final, punishing slap to the hybrid's deeply-reddened tush. "...Aaaand that makes ninety-three," Tristan announced, Ceeb sighing deeply in relief as his blistered rump was exposed finally to the cool air; the fox's torturous hand moving away from it.

"And now for the main event..." Tristan said, standing up and guiding his new property into place. He negotiated placed with Ceeb for a brief moment and situated himself behind the fraccoon. The latter's face was pressed gently against the rubber toy embedded in the bed with his cheeks spread and hands on the couch, feet on the ground.

Tristan stepped behind the captive fox and began to undress himself, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants; sliding them down to his ankles along with his soft, white jockstrap. In doing so he revealed his throbbing, pre-soaked length; standing at full attention at its length of nine inches along with his already halfway-formed knot. He gripped onto Ceeb's hips and dug his claws in deep, eliciting a whimper.

"Here we go..." he whispered roughly into his toy's ear, bucking in deep and eliciting a loud 'yip!', tears of combined pain, joy, and pleasure running down the fraccoon's cheeks as he simultaneously moaned pleasurably. "Ooh, don't stop master..." he whimpered as Tristan rammed his cock and that thick, merciless knot of his deep in and out of Ceeb's hole.

After a good few turns, his knot was finally ready; bucking that thick, full knot in one final time and tying himself deep within the hybrid's bowels. "Nnn... gonna come..." Tristan groaned, doing just that in short order. He began to come fast and hard inside Ceeb's guts, filling him with easily a week's worth of seed; pumping one load right after the other into his prey for easily a few minutes.

As his orgasm finally died down, he panted hard in pleasure and growled. His knot had softened just enough for him to pull out, which he did before pulling his pants back up and refastening them. "Well, that was fun boy, but as you can probably tell I am rather spent," he spoke simply, picking up a crudely-constructed ring gag from the coffee table and strapping it around Ceeb's mouth; his teeth wrapping around that steel O-ring as the leather belt clinched against his head. The latter's long tongue lolled a bit from his mouth as a result, showing off the stud in his tongue.

Ceeb merely nodded his reply as his new owner then proceeded to take a simple, black leather belt and attach it to his neck; then attaching a leash and tethering his new prize to a post not far from the couch. "You will sleep here and eat here at pre-determined times. You may or may not get rewarded for good behaviour, and your punishment for bad behaviour will be severe. Whenever I have company over you will offer them the services of your mouth and tongue with no fuss... complaining will be warrant for your beating. And finally," Tristan said, taking Ceeb's face into a gloved forepaw as he took a breath, "if you prove to be an unworthy pet, or I find you are deliberately trying to sabotage me? It will be warrant for me to leave you out in the cold, letting you rot in the cold misery you resigned to in coming here. Do I make myself clear?"

The frack merely nodded silently in response. Tristan slapped him firmly across the muzzle, inciting a yelp and harried tears. "Alright... yes, master. You've made yourself more than clear," he said, looking timidly up into his owner's eyes and coming to rest on his knees.

"Alright then," Tristan said, turning tail to move back upstairs, "good night, pet." "G-g-good...night...master," Ceeb whimpered softly, shivering as Tristan slowly advanced back upstairs, pausing every so often to take into consideration the myriad things the fraccoon had attempted to steal and to pick them up.

Many hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of already-stolen and priceless artifacts, plus the occasional more petty item like rare video game consoles and computer software scattered about. The kind of shady shit that bought this very house in the first place. It would take years to repay all of this... not to mention the potential jailtime he'd be facing if it came to light that he was the original thief. No, this smaller thief had to be kept in his place, for the greater good.

As Tristan finally entered his bedroom, he stripped completely bare and slid underneath the warm, comforting sheets of his king-sized bed. At this point dawn had already broken, and he slept quite comfortably for a period of around twelve hours as Ceeb shivered in the basement below; only managing to fall asleep after a period of several hours.

When Tristan awoke, he got dressed and entered the kitchen. He poured a meager helping of gruel into a bowl and brought it down to the basement for Ceeb to eat, leaving it there and retrieving it for cleaning later that day.

Later that night, the routine of the previous was re-rinsed; this time Tristan and a couple of close associates violating both of Ceeb's holes quite thoroughly before Tristan saw them off, then administering the same ninety-three slaps of the previous night and a similarly-cold departure.

For several months this treatment went on, until finally Ceeb snapped. One night he absolutely refused to respond to any sexual stimuli whatsoever; ignoring Tristan's words, advances, and even harsh slaps. But the final straw came when he was being forced to suck on that thick cock of his. Ceeb had had enough and began to sank his fangs down on his master's manhood.

"NO! Bad pet..." Tristan yelled, quickly pushing his would-be sub off with an additional boot to the chest before he could get any further but grazing his cock's flesh with his teeth. "I think I've had enough of you," he said, eliciting a deep gulp from Ceeb. "Let's go."

Within a short amount of time, Ceeb found his head encased within a thick rubber mask; his hands bound tight behind his back as Tristan loaded him up into the cab of his pickup truck. He drove off deep where he would have some privacy, finding an abandoned corn field near a sparsely-driven road and pulling Ceeb out with him.

"Last stop..." Tristan said, gazing wistfully out to the field as he dropped his former submissive onto the road; smirking broadly and swishing his tails as he climbed back into his truck. "Good riddance."

And with that, he drove off into the distance without so much as another word to Ceeb. The latter sobbed forcefully into his mask, gasping for air and eventually passing out from the sheer pressure of it all. He didn't awaken until about a few days later.

"Where... where am I?" Ceeb asked, blinking his eyes a little bit and looking around. An emergency room... how fitting for where his life had lead him. A perfect metaphor. He lay mostly-exposed on the operating table as the grogginess slowly left his eyes, watching as a nurse helped remove a bandage and skulked off quietly. "You're in Habrigburgh Community Hospital," a soft male voice spoke to him. Before too long an otter in a white coat came to greet him, about his height as he smiled softly down to him; offering to shake paws but understanding when Ceeb shook his head 'no'. "I'm Dr. Murphy."

"What happened? Why am I here, doc?" Ceeb asked in an inquisitive tone. The otter sighed softly and gazed down at a clipboard held in his hands. "We found you wrapped up in a bit of a tight squeeze... literally speaking, unfortunately. You passed out on an off-exit by the highway," Dr. Murphy explained, glancing back and forth from the board to the fox hybrid laying before him.

"We're trying to figure out exactly why you were put out though... officer Steve will be able to tell you more on that," the otter said, stepping back and letting a German shepherd come through, clad in the usual blue uniform of the Habrigburgh Police. "This is the man we suspect of beating and kidnapping you," he said, presenting to him a sketch of Tristan's face. Ceeb quickly nodded, gesturing slightly to it. "That's him, that's him!" he exclaimed. Officer Steve nodded. "We've got him back in the tank, but we've got a few questions we'd like to ask you as well. Come talk to me when you're feeling better."

Ceeb gulped at his words and nodded a bit. That's it... he was fucked. Ah well, it was a fun ride while it lasted he figured. After a couple more hours of testing, the hospital gave him some basic clothes to wear and rolled him out in a wheelchair. Officer Steve was waiting for him in his car, letting him in into the back and driving towards the police station.

Ceeb's face turned red as he looked off to the side; already knowing he was caught red-handed without even having to be told. Before too long, this suspicion was confirmed. He was brought into the police station, and further deeper into an interrogation room.

Officer Steve stepped out and another cop, a dalmatian, stepped in to the plate. Sitting down, he looked the quivering Ceeb directly in the eyes. "Where were you on the night of November the 3rd, 2011?" the dalmation asked. Ceeb remained steadfastly silent. "TELL ME!"

"Okay, okay..." Ceeb cracked, tearing up, "I was at Tristan's house..." The dalmatian nodded, constantly taking down notes as he continued to ask in a calm, collected voice; reading Ceeb like a book and using his impulsive nature to further incriminate him. "And what were you doing there, exactly?" he asked, looking directly into Ceeb's eyes. "I was... I was..." he bit onto his lower lip, sweating. "I was going to visit him for a little while."

"LIES!" the cop shouted, standing up and glaring down at the hybrid. "Okay, okay... I was going to rob him blind." "Mhm..." the cop nodded, suddenly recollected and seated as he took further notes, listening with perked ears as Ceeb looked directly into his eyes; frozen in place. "Go on..."

"Well..." Ceeb continued, "as I'm sure we all know by now, I knew he was one of the most skilled thieves in the area. Nobody's ever bested him in terms of profit for years, and nobody's managed to steal something from him and live to tell the tale for at least as long." The dalmation nodded softly and continued to ask him a series of similar, equally-incriminating questions. Before too long, he found himself lead off to a series of containment cells by the same officer.

"Here you go, boy... this is where you'll be staying 'til the trial comes," he said, opening a cell and slamming it shut behind him as the hybrid stepped in. As Ceeb familiarized himself with his barren surroundings, he noticed a familiar sight. Tristan.

"You're gonna make for a nice little sex toy, you snitch-ass fuckin' bitch..." Tristan snarled, sitting on one of the seats mounted on the wall and slapping Ceeb's ass as he walked by. "I'm gonna rape your ass 'til it bleeds." Ceeb hissed at him but ignored him otherwise, grasping for the metal bars separating him from the outside world and sighing wistfully as he stared out. It was only a matter of time.

After a few weeks had passed, the pair had their hearing. They were brought before a court and glared at each other as the judge spoke. "Mr. Thilorn, your prosecutor finds you guilty of the following charges... kidnapping, rape, assault, degradation of quality of life, endangerment of life, attempted murder, and psychological torment. How do you plead?" Tristan pressed his ears against his head and scratched his head a little bit as he looked off to the side. "Guilty..." he muttered. "Stupid bitch..."

The lapine, female judge nodded at his words, pointing rather ominously at him before tapping a folder against her desk; re-arranging the folders within in a very orderly fashion. "I heard that, Mr. Thilorn, and you would be well-advised to watch your language and tone in a court of law. Mr. Longhair?" she said, turning to Ceeb.

Ceeb perked his ears slightly, a weak yet vaguely hopeful look upon his face as he looked up to the judge. "Multiple charges of burglary, vandalism and intent to steal items in the range of several thousand dollars. How do you plead?" The frack sighed and looked down for a moment, his tail swishing dejectedly. "Guilty..." he said.

The judge nodded and banged her gabble. "That settles it, then... life sentences for both of you. You will both be spending your days from now on in the Habrigburgh High-Security Facility," she said. "Court is adjourned. Escort these men out."

Officer Steve and the others nodded quietly, taking Tristan and Ceeb by the shoulders and dragging them off. "You're coming with us," they spoke in gruff tones, taking them out to their police vans and loading them in. Before too long, they were pulling up in front of the aforementioned facility... more specifically, a closely-guarded prison.

They were led within in short order with ears pressed against their heads and assigned their orange, numbered jumpsuits. They were then led to their cell. "Here's cell block number eight hundred, cell number ten," the warden said as they finally came up to it.

He was a large, well-muscled German shepherd, similar in both height and weight to Tristan. Similar in appearance to the one from earlier, but easily a lot more jaded and grizzled. "Welcome to hell," he said, slamming the cell door shut and starting to walk off before either one could say anything in return.

Tristan took the top bunk of the two bunk beds and growled angrily down at Ceeb. "I am going to make you my bitch, boy..." he said, tails swishing furiously behind him. Ceeb hissed back at him but didn't say much in return; honestly terrified for his life as he did his best to intimidate the black fox. As the latter hopped down from his vantage point, the lighter-furred hybrid socked him square in the jaw. [CRACK!]

Tristan was caught off-guard by this, snarling and falling to his knees as he brought a hand up to rub his face. Two teeth were knocked clean out as a result, some blood dripping from his mouth as a result and a third still knocked loose.

"You're gonna pay, faggot," Tristan spat, rising back to his full height. "You think I really give a shit any more, asshole?! I'm fucking sick and tired of your shit... I'm not gonna be your bitch any longer," Ceeb replied, baring both fang and tooth. "QUIET DOWN IN THERE! It's time for bed," the warden announced, coming in for routine inspection of the cells.

Once everything had checked out and the two had settled in bed, Tristan growled warningly from the top bunk. "Good night, bitch boy... see you in the morning," he said smirkingly. The smaller fox merely growled and hissed quietly to himself one final time, managing to force himself asleep after an hour or two of getting used to the dreary, cold prison cell.

[To be continued.]