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To say the atmosphere was electric would be wrong. To say as much would imply the events unfolding were exciting, eager, and amazing, but nothing could have been further from it. Perhaps the spectators might have later described it as such, but in reality they would use words like 'hot', 'nasty' and 'sexy'. Their brains would not join together the dots of a good time to what they saw. Instead they'd instantly relay to a part of their memory where they'd call upon it later, either for a personal fantasy whilst they rubbed one out, or perhaps the worse circumstance to later enact it for themselves or upon some poor soul who's found themselves at their mercy.

The atmosphere then was acidic. It was insidious and invasive. The smell was ripe, that every breath you could inhale carried with it the thousand odours of men, in all their sweaty, musky, hot glory. Sex was heavy on that aroma too, as if the whole room was just in the midst of a wild orgy. Looking out to the club, one wouldn't have known even if people were having sex or not as they moved around. From on top the stage, where lights burned halos of illumination, nothing could be seen of the room beyond except for the throngs of bodies. There was no escaping the sight, the smell, the sounds, all of it swirling in the air like a poisonous thunderstorm that threatened to breach at any point. Or maybe it already had and the victims on stage were deluding themselves thinking it'd all be over soon. The torrent of abuse and vile suggestions flung themselves through the air as if caught in their own hailstorm, a crowd milling about the absurdly packed club all here to watch tonight's event. It was Amateur Hour at the Event Horizon, which could only mean one thing for the depraved gentlemen's fetish club. It meant a full night of ridiculously wrong sex as rather than trained, professional performers taking to the stage, it was instead the turn of willing patrons to put together a little show for the audience that awaited them.

Tonight's entertainment had been heralded as an art piece, an almost educational demonstration for fellow dominators and masters alike who sought the service of multiple subs but had yet to fathom some feasible way of keeping all parties entertained without one or the other getting overwrought from the lack of attention or the unfair treatment. Naturally one could just expect them to fall into line - they ought to simply be grateful, after all, to be under their dom's control at all - but it was still a problematic situation that posed its own curious predicaments. According then to the host for tonight, the answer would be played out by two wonderful volunteers.

Only these were not volunteers. They had consented, certainly, but they had been shaped and moulded by their master for tonight's proceedings over the course of what had to be weeks, if not months. Night after night, even day after day, training and disciplining them and modelling them into the perfect couple of subs that not only played together but suffered together. For the moment they were presented on stage bent over themselves, legs bound together as they were locked in stockades, each rump pressed up to the others. One was a fox, his coat a smoky grey with just the tufts of his headfur dyed a brilliant blue, whilst the other was a lion, a gloriously thick red mane that contrasted beautifully against the gold of his fur. Besides the two of them, naked on stage, were three other figures, men whom were clearly in control of the situation. Two were members of the audience, having been invited up several minutes ago by the third male who stood stalking around them, skulking in wide, predatory circles as he commanded the attention of the club,

"This, gentlemen, is the first benefit of having plenty of slaves beneath your control: entertaining a crowd becomes light work. The more holes you have, the easier it is to keep any guests happy! Wearing out some slutty bottom desperate to be a cum-dumpster is a thing of the past."

It seemed almost surreal, that this third man was dictating a sales pitch, but he carried himself such lewd, oozing charisma and with confidence that emanated throughout the room. He was utterly in control, something the two slaves knew full well as they grunted and sucked upon the men's cocks, their faces smothered in heady crotches of faceless furs, only good for blow jobs in their current state. It didn't matter who they were, they were just pawns to be used in some grand scheme of the third. But it was indeed that third which mattered most. The subs onstage had only come to know his as 'Master', but to the audience that spectated, hollered and cheered on engrossed as the slaves were defiled and used, they had been introduced to the man as 'Master Warren'.

Warren was a strange figure. Unlike many in the room, he didn't amount to a powerful build. He lacked the thickened gut that many sported and nor did he make up for that with any hardened muscles. He was a lean person, somewhere dwindling between toned and slim, some semblance of muscle there but not enough to add bulk to his size. Dressed in typical attire of leather chaps, his sheath proudly on show, a matching leather jacket hung across broad shoulders, with a leather cap to complete the trio atop his head, he at the very least matched the decorum certainly, but the coyote did not strike many as intimidating. But as the two subs had swiftly found out early on into their recruitment and indoctrination for the canid's plans, Warren was a force to be reckoned with. His voice bellowed above the teeming thrum that bubbled amongst the other patrons in the club, his movements carried the effect of a tyrant taking in his kingdom, and he flourished under the spotlight, clearly enjoying the attention he was mastering as he performed just as much as his two slaves did for the two men.

"Just think of the possibilities with not just two, but perhaps three or even four if you feel adventurous," he continued, "Two holes a piece, at the very least, with a higher chance that someone's going to be finished much quicker with one bitch than all waiting on just some poor sub to get every male off at your orgy. Whoever has time for that?" Somebody shouted from the floor below, but the response was lost on Warren's ears, "And certainly, if you're not a fan of sloppy seconds, the more the merrier suddenly becomes a lot fresher and tighter. Speaking of which..." Warren turned to his guests on stage, "You two, you've had your fun. Now go back and blow a load on some other slut's hole." There was a grunt of disobedience, the men clearly not happy to have been sent packing so soon, but the coyote turned easily ferocious, snarling with fangs bared, "You'll leave now, or you'll be under my boots after the show." The expression on his face, a sight the subs had seen all too often, was truly terrifying. Eyes were as wild as the gnarly sneer that peeled at his lips, spittle glistening upon sharpened fangs that threatened to tear apart the men if they did not obey. The coyote seemed to bristle with rage, looking for any good excuse to release any pent up anger on whoever crossed his path. It took a shared look between the two guests before they pulled themselves free of the muzzles and scampered off, clambering down to the floor below and away into the dark so that they wouldn't have to face the raving male again.

"Some men ought to know their place..." Warren eventually said in a very cold, measured voice, his eyes scanning the crowd for any more bouts of defiance, "Which is why, if you are to have more than one slave under your command, that authority is key. You must ensure that they know full well who's in charge. Hierarchy is essential."

The coyote moved to the stocks, striding across the platform with confidence and purpose. First, pulling a pair of keys from his pocket, he unlocked the padlocks which had clasped the stockades shut over the males' necks and wrists, but with their legs bound together, asses pressed up to each other, they were trapped and forced to lean their weights against the equipment. It took the coyote a few seconds to undo the knots that ensnared their limbs, but gradually he unwound the length of rope which had kept them in bondage. But neither moved, they remained stock still, their eyes glazed in subservience, awaiting the command to allow them to act. Warren had trained them well. It had been a long, arduous process but he was thoroughly pleased with the results.

"Slaves," he snapped his fingers, and both men turned their heads to his direction, "Remove the dildo and come kneel at my footpaws."

Instantly they acted; lifting their torsos from the stocks, they awkwardly walked away from one another, the hidden dildo impaled between them suddenly coming into view. Warren didn't know if anyone had spotted his not so little secret, but he didn't particularly care. It was to keep his slaves' holes nice and loose, for the performance was a long one, with many position changes and shifts between who was to do what and when. He didn't have time to be stretching and reworking their holes open every time one was left to stew without much attention. The double-headed dildo slid free from their rumps and landed upon the stage with a wet, dulled thump, the size impressive at being nearly eight inches on either side for each of them, and thicker than any normal toy. Warren waited patiently as the two stood to either side of him and then dropped to their knees carefully, paws behind their backs, heads bowed, awaiting the next command, whatever that may be. Inside Warren bloomed a small sense of pride, quickly overcome by a burning lust that wanted to just breed the pair of them there and then for showing such moving displays of obedience in the face of a hooting crowd. He reached out to stroke the sides of their faces, brushing his gloved paws along their cheeks as he demonstrated just the mildest affections,

"As a master, your word is law. They must not simply know this, but live it."

His paws left their faces, and he stepped back, moving to the small trolley that had been wheeled onstage alongside the stockades. A vast array of gruesome looking implements littered each tray, but Warren picked out two identical butt plugs, the fat, imposing sort that promised never to be forgotten from the mind of whomever wears them. But it gave him the chance to finally look at his two slaves with a little more care, finally taking note of the power he really had over them.

The first slave he had found had been Rayn, though that name was promptly abandoned as soon as the lion had sworn over obedience to the coyote when they had finally met face to face after numerous messages sent online, back and forth. Immediately Warren had dubbed him 'Kitty' for the purposes of differentiation, though it was subject to change upon the second sub he could dredge up from wherever he might get lucky. Rayn had been an easy find; the lion was already spreading himself around on online hook-up sites and multiple forums, so much so that it had been easy pickings for the coyote to simply pose as yet another male looking to fuck before reeling in the feline with dark promises and dirty comments. The lion had sought some higher power, nothing so silly as religious, but it very may well have been. When Warren had finally gotten the big cat to sit before him, the connection had been instantaneous and deep, where the coyote had turned the conversation from something friendly and casual over coffee to the darkest most inner thoughts of the slave. Every fantasy he learnt that day, every deep secret, every fear and pain, until he knew the lion inside and out. Then he had promised what he always did to his slaves; the chance to be free. Serve under the coyote and Rayn could lead a happier life where he didn't have to worry about judgement or dissatisfaction. He could obey, pleasure, and in return be cared for by Warren. The symbol of that trust and contract had not been signed in ink, but forged by metal. The coyote insisted the lion wear a chastity device, and within the week the lion was caged, locked, and under the master's spell. The key now sat upon a chain around Warren's neck, where the warm metal sat heavy upon his nape.

Looking down at Rayn now, he was such a splendid creature to have under his control. The lion was an excellent specimen of his species. The mane truly was the most luxurious deep red, as thick as blood and unfathomably soft, as Warren had very well found out into their earliest sessions together. He had explored and examined every inch of the lion's body who knelt before him now, his eyes drawn down to the flashes of silver at his groin, where similar crimson pubic fur sprouted atop and around his crotch. The lion was slim, perhaps more defined than his sibling and stood just a little taller too; he was closer to Warren in size and build than he was to his other slave. However, Janth was the smallest then of them all. His build was far slimmer, far shorter, and much leaner than Rayn or Warren. His lighter fur was a stark contrast to the lion's yellow and red as much as it was to the coyote's brown and charcoal. The vibrancy of his headfur even marked him out against Rayn, the two appearing, rather poetically if Warren admitted, as opposites. One red, the other blue, and both under his control.

But Warren was not a stickler for builds nor did he focus on the aesthetic of their presentation. He enjoyed the flesh of slim bottoms as much as he relished in breaking down the biggest of men. They could portray themselves to be the hardest of thugs, piercings and tattoos smothering their bodies, or they might be mild and pure with untainted white fur, he would bleach them of their wants, stain them with his own designs, and tame them all the same. The body and looks of the sub was not a primary concern to him, merely an entertaining facet.

Janth had been particularly bothersome to obtain. Once Warren had Kitty under his control and serving every whim, he made it clear to the lion that he sought another, and if he knew anyone that he should propose they come forward and make themselves known. But the feline had been reluctant. Warren saw then immediately that Rayn was resistant to sharing, something which the coyote was going to take pleasure in eroding away from the feline's mind. The predicament however still remained that he lacked a second to train. Searching online had proved fruitless and simply stalking the fetish clubs had turned up only selfish, petty bottoms who only wanted a night of kinky sex before everything went back to normal before going too far, abandoning the dream they all craved but feared. It had forced Warren to search further afield, scoping out local nightclubs and cafés for his next slave. It had been in one coffee house in particular where he spotted Janth first, but the fox had been swept up in the midst of his own world drawing. The coyote didn't want to impose, not when he couldn't be sure, so he staked the café out, watching and waiting all the while, observing the fox for what had nearly amounted to a week, before finally making his approach. He had been forced to play it slyly this time around; unlike Rayn, Janth was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger and an ordinary fur. He wasn't fixated upon sex and service, not for all Warren knew, and so the coyote worked the information out. It took a few hours of careful interrogation, but he gleaned enough to know he had found what he was looking for. There had been hesitance, naturally, but the coyote was incredibly persuasive and dedicated to his cause. No sooner had he proposed the fox serve under him had he got the poor boy back to his place, a chastity cage for him too, with the key hanging around the chain with its partner. He allowed a brief period to adjust Janth to the enslaved lifestyle, but Warren wasted no time and as soon as he deemed he could, he had the pair training together.

Training them had been an ordeal in and of itself. Just as he had expected, both of them were reluctant to participate with the other. Whenever Warren played with them together, the atmosphere in the room felt forced, that neither of them was enjoying the others presence, and the feeling only got worse when he would store one slave to play with the other one-to-one, as he deeply believed that individual attention must be given as much as should together. Many a time he had come back to find the fox strapped into his sleep sack, plugged with a dildo and a vibrating bound to his cock, often irked that the lion had got Warren's sole focus. Much the same way he'd often come to free the lion from the cage in his basement with the fucking machine to find him annoyed and inattentive. Neither of them were embracing the ideals Warren held, and rather than a weak master who would simply choose to have both but never allow the two to interact - or even dare to simply pick one and relinquish the other - he persevered. He refused to fuck either of them, to allow one or the other to get close to him, until they were close to one another. For weeks he forewent the feel of their holes wrapped around his cock, their bodies quivering beneath his own, as he sat like a guard watching over them as he ordered them to kiss, to suck, to fuck and breed, to masturbate, all for his entertainment. Measures had to be made drastic as he'd then upgraded to forcing them into situations together, tying them up in a sixty-nine with the challenge that whoever cums first gets released from chastity for twenty-four hours, or leaving them overnight in the same cage to get more intimate.

The months had been long, but eventually things had clicked. They had begun to accept one another, learnt to help one another through the sessions, to not resent if the one of them got more attention and accepted that they would get likewise further down the line. It was never a competition but a collaboration; all in service to Warren, never to themselves.

Slave 'Kitty' and Slave 'Foxy', his toys and treasures.

He approached them finally and presented them the plugs, held in outstretched paws for their taking,

"Insert."

Dutifully they reached up and took the plugs off him, one each, and took the toys to their asses. Out of tune, they grimaced and grunted in turn, a strain clearly to take the dry toys, but they weren't deterred. Rayn managed first, sighing as the plug sank into his hole and settled against his guts, whilst Janth struggled for a moment or two longer, whimpering and biting his lip, until finally he gasped, the plug locked with his rear. That was at least one downside to owning multiple subs, the expenses. One would always need more gear than one would think. One sub merely needed one of everything, but two required multiples, if not more. Still, Warren digressed; they were prepared for the first main performance of the night now, which ought to take focus. The oral work had simply been a warm-up, something to grab the crowd's attention with a little participation. Now there was real work to be done.

Warren walked away from where his slaves knelt, once more parading the stage and addressing those in the darkened club,

"But as there are many benefits to earned, there are many lessons to be learned." He sauntered across to the steel tea trolley that sat off to one side, his eyes focusing in on the masterpieces he had brought with him today, personally made, crafted to a specific degree, pristine leather and latex joined with polished silver. He could feel the fur prickle like a predator's as his paws hovered just over them, tempted to finally pick them up and show them off to the audience. He did so love boasting about his own sordid creations he had tailored for his bitches. But he stopped, "Two subs must learn to work together. Any harem must know that although they are privy to time alone with their master, that master in turn expects them to entertain him amongst themselves."

"WHY NOT JUST STICK 'EM IN A CAGE AND BE DONE WITH IT?!"

Instincts bristled again, rage rising in Warren's throat like bile. It took a lot of self-control not to hurl himself into the crowd to beat the idiot half to death for his blatant dismissiveness and stupidity,

"Because that would just lead to whiny, self-serving sluts who all fight with one another about who gets to suck Alpha's dick." The words were hissed but level, fierce eyes scanning what little of the audience that could be seen. Nobody came back with a heckled response, "Besides, it's such a treat to see two men humiliate themselves and one another simply at your word alone. There's few greater pleasures than say when you order your subs into a sixty-nine and then command they empty their bladders into the other's mouth. Such fun it is..."

"HELL YEAH IT IS!"

Warren finally let his paws settle on the two pieces of gear had purposefully laid out for just this occasion. Both were gags in their own right, but depending on who wore which would spell out a different fate either way. The coyote smiled to himself as he let his fingers slide over the magnificence of their spectacle.

One gag was a crude expansion of an open mouth variety. It comprised of an adjustable leather strap that would wind around the back of a victim's head and clasp tightly with a gleaming silver buckle, a great number of notches in place for whatever the size necessary. But the gag portion had been developed into something far more devious. It had been designed to be somewhat adjustable, a softer more pliant material that retained a great amount of strength but could still be bent and manipulated to fit anyone's mouth. Its strength will then kick in again and hold open the sub's maw as wide as it could possibly go, and then some. Even the opening seemed far larger than any other Warren had personally seen on the market currently, hence the reason he had been forced to get something custom made. It looked imposing, like a great tunnel or tube of sorts, that descended into what appeared to be a hollow plug. Something to keep the teeth from gnawing down to hard, it would extend just far enough into anyone's muzzle, just shy of the throat, and keep them from resisting. Of course, it meant no tongue, but the open gag was the perfect creation for throat and muzzle fucking.

Its companion was something that looked far more imposing; consisting of the same leather strap design, there seemed to be addition support that wound leather over a victim's muzzle. It appeared as if this muzzle had been designed with something canine in mind, and hid likewise a gag inside to keep the sub's mouth occupied. Only this gag was not a mere bulb. It was a long, slender dildo-like protrusion that extended further than the open mouth sibling piece. It looked as it it descended to the throat, maybe further, and was uniformly thick throughout. However, unlike the open gag, this one was closed completely, for on its other end protruded a great spire of a dildo. An impressive horse cock - specifically requested to be a life cast of a volunteer, willing or unwilling - and the black material shined in the lights on the stage. It must have been something close to an arm's length. Part of Warren was amazed when he'd opened the parcel when it had finally been delivered to him and he was faced with the monstrosity he now had before him today. Whoever was endowed with such a dick was someone he longed to meet.

But that was the set. His two little toys that he loved to show off. He picked them up, each requiring a deft grip and surprising force to lift their weight. Holding them aloft and outstretched for all to see, he made his way just around the edge of the stage to allow every a nice, long look, before he returned to face his slaves.

"Now the beauty of having more than just one slave, you get to decide though who should suffer what and how..." His voice lowered, directed to the two men kneeling before him, plugged and constrained by their cages, "Now who would like which gag?"

Neither of them answered, but that was fine, they had grown used to Warren's rhetoric by now anyway. They knew better than to express opinions. But body language and line of sight, those were two different things altogether. Janth seemed as indifferent as he could be to the choice, focusing as best he could on Warren's expression with blank, soulful eyes in some bid to convey submission, but he seemed agitated when the open mouth gag was brought near him. Something in him reviled from it; he had worn it before, after all. They both had, on either end, in training for this night, and Janth had always struggled when it was his turn to take the open mouth. Rayn however fidgeted when the same gag was introduced to him. He did his best to seem offended by it, but there was no fighting in his eyes. They burned to wear the thing, his tongue darting across his lips to wet them as if the anticipation was just too much to fight. Warren made his decision based on what would be easiest tonight - he couldn't afford one of them to freak out if he pushed them too far, and he wanted only the best performance possible from them both. He laid down the horse gag before the fox, letting him stare down at it in almost isolated reverie, whilst he moved to the feline and took a hold of his chin in one paw. Warren tilted Rayn's muzzle upwards so that he faced him, and with a leathered paw he pushed a thumb between the lion's lips and let him suckle on the digit. The seconds were precious, but he was settling the slave in to the mind-set that he was going to take the gag and whatever followed obediently; one thumb was joined by fingers, and gently the lion's muzzle was prised open, the coyote sliding in the gag until it sat nestled as deep as it could go, filling all of the feline's maw. A small retch came from deep inside Rayn's throat, but a sharp, stern glare from Warren silenced it almost immediately. They had trained for this. They had both had ample time to make all the mistakes they needed to make. Disobedience at this stage was unforgivable.

He finished tightening the straps and moved back to his fox, picking up the much larger gag and lifting it to the slave's head. His mouth opened obediently and Warren fed him the first end of the protruding gag, sliding it into his expectant maw until the muzzle was nestled on his face. He didn't choke, not like his sibling, but there was a small flash of panic in his eyes. As Warren fastened the strap to secure the gag, he gave a firm, conscious squeeze to the fox's neck, thumb brushing across the side of his cheek just to check in his eyes for any signs of fear. Such trepidation ought to be long gone, dismissed at the earliest possible convenience, but the coyote would be dammed if he was going to traumatise either of his boys tonight. Again the practice had been rigorous and strict leading up to this moment. The male had sculpted every moment to be perfect and for both of them to handle the challenge. They would be remembered for many nights and earn infamy amongst the patrons if they pulled this off without a hitch.

The horse dildo wobbled precariously with a heavy sway, but Janth held its weight dutifully. They were ready for the next stage; an excitement rose up in Warren as he once more turned back to his audience,

"Gentlemen, I would like to show all what I've dubbed as 'the slave's kiss'!" He turned to his slaves, "Kiss."

The single command was sounded, the two subs got to work. Rayn stayed where he was, but his head lifted up into the air, whilst Janth rose from his position. He circled the small distance between them and stood over the lion, despite being the shorter of the two he was now a clear enough advantage over the feline. The dildo dangled between them, jutting out from the fox's muzzle, and Janth took hold of Rayn's head between both his paws and carefully angled the toy into the open gag. There was some finesse to the act, the unnatural and unpredictable way the fake cock would jiggle and move, but practice had honed both their abilities to pre-empt and work together. Rayn was fed first the head of the toy, his tongue meeting the hard, tasteless rubber, before Janth pushed in once sure he had fitted the horse's tip inside. He refused to stop as inch after inch quickly slid into the feline's open muzzle, descending deeper until he hit the throat. There was a moment's resistance on Rayn's part but it passed as swiftly as it had arisen, the fox pushing in the last of the dildo until his gagged muzzle bumped up against the lion's. He stayed there for just a moment, the lion's face in his paws, the pair of them both holes plugged in some way or another, with the audience full well knowing that a mighty length of horse cock was sitting deep within the lion's throat. The bulge that swelled out of his neck was near obscene, and a slow but riotous holler of approval began to erupt from the crowd, first in bursts, then in successions until the club was bellowing out their lust.

A sinister smile crept across Warren's lips as he stood back to allow his slave's to perform. The slave's kiss was an ambitious move, one which required at least one slave to have the physical proficiency of deep-throating and another to understand the limitations of anatomy and the sake of good practice and care. The oesophagus was not designed to have objects pushed down and pulled back out of it, certainly none so large and still attached to whatever lay beyond the mouth, and training the pair to be skilled on either end of the dildo had been laborious if not rewarding for just this moment. The leather clad coyote sauntered up to his slaves and ruffled Janth's head fur whilst stroking the lion's neck, gloved fingers tracing the straining outline of the horse dildo situated in the feline's gullet.

"The slave's kiss is just one of many depraved little acts you can have two subs perform. Many men would go with the cliché and overplayed blow-job by two pairs of lips, or for one to take the cock whilst the other rims, but that requires your presence and likewise, by extension, your attention," Warren stepped away from his slaves again, "Scenes like this allow you to dictate and direct without much need to be involved. The subs entertain themselves."

As he said these words, Janth began to withdraw. He pulled out halfway, past the medial ring that pushed against the hardened rubber of the open gag, allowing Rayn just a chance to breathe in through his nose. He allowed for two breaths, in and out respectively twice over, before he plunged the dildo back in again. The crowd watched as the fox repeated this motion over and over in slow, deliberate movements that were made with precision and grace. In and out, pauses between to allow for air, again and again into the lion's throat. It was indeed to their eyes a depraved and uneasy kiss, neither of the men actually kissing as one might expect but the other subjected to an intense throat-fuck whilst the other delivered it. Even at a distance, one could see into their eyes that stared dead ahead into the other's, sharing a look that neither seemed able to break. Trust perhaps flashed between them both, or a mixed sensation of humiliation and apprehension as they were ordered. Janth must have known quite intimately the sensations and struggles Rayn was going through taking the horse dildo, just as Rayn looked up at the fox with an emotion that conveyed if anything faith that the fox wouldn't hurt or abuse him too much. They were acting not of their own will, but the will of their master, Warren. Neither was in control, as much as Janth appeared to be the perpetrator.

It was an intimate moment between them regardless. Sure control and power were taken out of their paws, but there was no denying the connection that was being forged between them. It was one they had created a long time before coming on stage, one Warren had cultivated, and it made his chest swell with pride as Janth held the lion's head in his paws, fingers wrought through the mane to establish the lead, whilst the feline opened his throat obediently for the horse dildo that slid into it, relaxing himself as best he could for something ultimately Janth could not stop himself. They weren't allowed to stop, not even for a moment, under the watchful gaze of the coyote. Commands were absolute and only at the behest of the canine male could they be directed to stop or pause. Warren allowed the scene to continue, groping himself as he felt his cock swell and harden in his pants, as he spoke once more to the crowd,

"Now I know what some of you may be thinking: it's all well and good letting them have fun, but you want to be involved right?"

"FUCK YES, GET TO THE GOOD STUFF!"

"ABOUT TIME."

"It's about building them up, you see? Subs can be very demanding on their own. They'll want everything on a platter and if you're not the guy to give it to them, they'll find someone else." Warren finally unzipped his pants, exposing his hardened cock to the open air as he stroked his length with a leather glove. The feeling of soft, supple material against his sensitive, wet flesh was enough to have him shuddering in his boots, but he kept focus, "With two, there's always that question of 'who first', and beyond that a question of 'when', so you tease them. You lure out the sluttiest natures of your subs, nurture their compliance until it is all-consuming. By the time the hard work is over, enjoyable as it is to watch them suffer, you'll have subs on your paws who want only to please you whichever way you like."

Warren gave another flick of his wrist, he dismissed them both from the act with a barked order. Although Janth stopped face-fucking the lion and began to pull out, it was clear they were taking care in the withdrawal. The fox was slow, slower than before, as he pulled the horse dildo free from the feline's open muzzle, and it made Warren's cock throb hard when he saw the trail of that bulge travelling along the lion's neck, the unflared head still swelling the flesh as it went. Rayn was not hiding his desire to get the dildo out of his muzzle, something Warren might have to punish him for later, but a simple look of disobedience compared to an act was nothing to quibble over in front of an audience. The shock and need in his eyes was evident as Janth pulled the last inch or so free from the open gag, a heaved splutter and cough from Rayn sent spittle flying, drool running down his gagged chin. The dildo was covered in a slimy sheen of whatever fluids had coated it on its descent into Rayn's throat, and they slithered across the matt black surface as Janth took a step back, paws leaving Rayn's head and clasping themselves behind his back, just over his tail. He stood diligently by as the lion recuperated, sucking lungful after lungful of air back into his lungs that he must have sorely been deprived off.

"Gags off." Both slaves in unison reached for their gags and unbuckled the straps, their paws working almost on instinct as they released their muzzles respectively. Rayn seemed much more hurried to get his off than Janth, resulting in the lion's frantic efforts to very nearly drop the gag altogether, whereas the fox was calmer in his demeanour and placed his upon the floor politely. Warren would definitely have to punish Kitty later, but there was no time for that now. The audience would suspect no different either way. It seemed his fox slave was being good tonight, whilst the kitty was forgetting his manners. No matter, the coyote decided. It only made the next part easier.

"Slaves, sixty-nine: Kitty," he snapped. Rayn's focus, distracted as it might have been with his coughs for air, sharpened to the coyote, "bottom. Janth, top." Comprehension was shared between them, in just a single look, and obediently the lion lowered himself to the cold, unforgiving floor of the stage. Comforts were of no concern to Warren, not presently, and he watched as the pair manoeuvred themselves into position for his whim. Janth waited until Rayn was at least settled upon the floor before he climbed atop the lion, facing the opposite direction, squatting over the man until he was stood upon all fours over his prone sibling.

"WHAT'S THE POINT IF THEY'RE BOTH CAGED?!" Warren couldn't tell where the shout had come from, but a devious smile split across his lips as he massaged his length from knot to tip, working his pre until the shaft was coated in a near-enough shine.

"Exactly, my rude mannered friend, what is the point?" A mischievous tone bled into his voice, something he couldn't hide, "It only makes it all the more unbearable to get sucked without getting hard." He turned his attention to the two slaves who were waiting for their next, inevitable command, "Suck."

Rayn's head lifted upwards, just as Janth's bent down, each opening their mouths to take in the caged portion of the other's crotch. It was humiliating and sensationless; their tongues lapped and worked over trapped flesh through steel, barely gracing perhaps a small fraction of cock that pressed up to the bars. In Warren's time submitting as a slave himself, he had learnt what that feeling was like, to receive oral whilst still locked away, and it was hell. It had inspired him to produce this little scene, where he could punish other subs in the same manner by giving them exactly what they wanted, just not how they had wished for.

"Just because a sub is caged does not mean you can't have a little fun." The coyote walked around the fox's behind, leathered paws reaching down to stroke along the slave's sides as the slurping sounds became louder the closer he got. Over the din of the crowd they were inaudible, but beside them he could hear their grunts and moans of discontent. They wanted more, evidently, but he was never going to give that to them. Not there and then.

His gloved paw smoothed across the fox's hips and towards the male's rump, spotting a glance of the butt plug's base nestled against the vulpine's cheeks, flexing within the constricting muscles of his behind. Rayn would have his too, but the lion would just have to settle for that now. Janth was to be the fortunate slave to get mounted first, Warren decided, after he'd done such a good performance for the crowd and taken arguably the easier option of the two gags. He could take the coyote, something which might not necessarily work out in his favour, the master mused with a glint to his eyes.

"But, when it boils down to it, no matter how many subs you have," he spoke aloud, though his gaze remained transfixed to the fox's rear, occasionally smacking the upturned cheeks with the flat of his palm just to keep the slave aware, "You'll always want to put your dick into a nice, warm hole."

His fingers snuck down to the plug in Janth's ass, and grasping around the lip of the base Warren tugged the toy free. The slave grunted, a loud thud to his chest, but there was no protest other than the displeasure of having his hole crudely emptied. Warren licked his lips, squatted down to their level, and line up his cock with that still just open hole, letting the tip dance around the stretched rim before he plunged right inside.

He had worked on both their holes with equal measure, holding nothing back during training. They had graduated through all the plugs and toys the coyote had owned so that they would always be loose enough for even the driest fuck. Warren's pre made the entry perhaps pinch easier, but still the soft yowl of being impaled erupting from Janth's full muzzle was satisfying to his ears. The canine had also trained them to keep plugs in overnight, so that they could exercise on tightening their holes as much as they were to be prepared to open up at a moment's notice. It was tough to get them into the right balance, but Warren had to admit he'd done exemplary work. Janth's ass was tight enough to feel good, wrapping around his cock as he fucked the fox's body over the lion's, no doubt smacking the deepest spot of the slave's prostate to give Rayn a nice trickle of pre to suckle on. But the fox was also loose enough where he didn't have to push himself to get inside, where the ride was smooth and even, not dragging his dick back and forth and irritating his flesh. Warren had never liked virgins, and thankfully these two were already broken in by the time he gotten to them. All that had required was a little extra shaping.

He fucked the fox hard and slow, rolling his hips in until his knot pressed up against the male's rim, before he pulled back out until his head left the hole, just about glancing against it as it yawned momentarily open. Then he'd plunge back inside, throwing his weight behind him to accelerate with enough power to really make sure both men beneath him felt it. It must have been such a sordid sight; two men, sucking each other off to no satisfying end caged as they were, with a fully leathered and dressed coyote hunched over them, grabbing one of their waists and fucking them hard. Warren ignored the crowd now, hearing the occasional shout and suggestion but paying it little heed. By this point he just wanted to breed one of his bitches and get on with the rest of the show. An hour was not a lot of time, after all, not when you got down to it.

With a grimace and snarl of his teeth, Warren began to throw more power behind his thrusts as the fox beneath him shuddered, the lion dutifully carrying out his task without real impact from what was happening just inches from his face. All that Rayn could see was a front row view of the coyote pounding the fox's hole, heavy balls swinging and tapping at Janth's caged own, that knot plugging up to the rim with every thrust. If it wasn't clear before, it would be now as Warren sank his digits into the fox's hips, really pulling him back onto him as he drove forwards, that bloat of flesh hitting his hole with more force with every slam. His moans and yelps were not lost on the coyote, but they were dismissed with a savage growl, just as finally his knot sank into the fox's ass.

Janth squirmed and writhed beneath the coyote, but Warren refused to relinquish his grip on the male's hips. He held him in place and bit the male's neck as he yanked his cock back, drawing the knot back out. The fox again let out a louder yowl, clearly the act not as pleasurable as one expected, but he was given no choice in the matter. They had their safe words, after all, and Warren would respect them even if they resorted to using them. But this was exactly what the training was for, all the prep, so they could endure and make him proud. That should be their desire.

The knot was rammed back inside again as Warren began to fuck the fox with all he could offer. That swollen orb of flesh would follow his shaft as it entered, shoved into the male's hole before being ripped back out only to have it slammed in again moments later. The pace was set to be rough, the speed and rhythm merciless, as Warren had his way with his slave's hole. Every whine and groan that the fox made only made his dick throb harder inside his ass, the coyote cherishing every second of his slaves' suffering. Sure, he could indulge his sadistic side now and then as much as he has his own masochistic needs, but he wasn't cruel. The fox was simply letting out the equivalent of crocodile tears, all show for the audience, for everyone around him, but Warren knew he enjoyed the use. Both of them did. Otherwise they wouldn't be stood upon this stage submitting themselves to it all.

He rode his slave's hole like a brutal feral might; he wasted no time as soon as he had plugged that ass with his knot had he torn it back out, leaving the fox would a nice enough stretch to his hole that he had begun to gape upon every exit. Those warm, gripping insides stroked his dick, all of it, in such magical ways that Warren was fighting a losing battle. He'd already watch them submit themselves to enough torments of his own design, it had been hot to watch them serve him in to any whim he had, and now he could feel his orgasm oncoming from being all worked up. He bit down harder upon Janth's nape, hammered his crotch into the male's ass as hard as he could, letting just the knot stroke back and forth over the rim, before he came.

Every shot was hot and heavy, He could feel the jets of his seed shoot into the male's guts as his climax rode through him. Warren had always been proud of his loads, taking supplements and dieting correctly to get a nice thick and inexhaustible supply. Many people would always comment and snicker at his size, remarking how he might compare up to some of the other men who were more well-endowed than he, but the coyote always took pleasure in breaking them down and having them swallow his seed until they were choking on it and near enough eating their own words - or rather eating his cum. Each spurt of seed into Janth's hole had phenomenal volume, and Warren could feel it building up around his cock. His knot kept the ass plugged just enough to not let any out, although he could feel the barrier quivering at near full capacity.

But the fox was well trained enough to know to keep his ass clenched shut, holding whatever the coyote fed him. Warren opened his jaw and licked the mark clean before tussling the fox's headfur with his leather glove, lifting himself up and off his slave but keeping his cock in place. His gaze turned to a horny crowd, another scheming grin flashed their way,

"Waste not, want not, right?" He looked down to the lion upon the floor, who had all this time dutifully kept suckling upon the cage of the fox, "Eat up."

As Warren pulled out of the fox's ass with a wet squelch, the flood of seed that followed poured over the lion's face. Eagerly Rayn lifted himself up, drawing the fox's hips down so that his muzzle could plant itself against his bred hole. The soft suckling sounds of slurps and gulps filled the quieting air as he ate the cream pie Warren had just given the fox, watching the rivers of his cum drip and drool across Rayn's face as he guzzled up to the slave's stretched hole. His cock was still a mess though; he walked around to the other free mouth and pushed his slimy, sticky member into the fox's face, distracting him from the lion's own caged crotch, "Suck."

Just as obediently as the feline, though perhaps with more of a fatigued effort, Janth opened his mouth and accepted the spent cock that was pushed between his lips. He lapped and swallowed down the taste of his own ass as well as the coyote's jizz, cum smeared across his muzzle with a fervent cat tongue pushing and squirming against his insides. Groans and soft whimpers of exhausted pleasure broke free from his muzzle as he sucked on Warren's cock, whilst Rayn made no effort to hide his enjoyment of eating out the canine's load from his used hole.

Warren wiped his cock across the fox's face in the last act of humiliating shame, the last dregs of cum staining his blushing cheeks as Rayn swallowed down whatever was still leaking from his stretched hole. The coyote turned to the audience, tucking his cock back into his pants and straightening out his uniform,

"Any questions?"