FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Good thing you're such a slut," Vigar sneered, casually leaning forwards on his occupied stool, elbows atop his knees and hands clasped together. Meran had to restrain himself from physically flinching away as the male came closer, the gap between them mere inches as the ventillian's snarling face loomed into view. Suspended from the rafters by chains that locked to each joint and held him aloft, the smaller male could do nothing to escape the heavy stench of tobacco that clung to his breath, unable to avoid the man's cold, rotten gaze with dark black eyes. A smile crawled its way across Vigar's lips, his beak grinning as he spoke down to his captured pet, "if I ever need a little bitch to use, you'll always come running. Never let me down, have you?"

Meran whimpered, hands tightening their grips around the chains, fidgeting within his bonds. He felt vulnerable like this, exposed and terrified of his master's next move. Stark naked in the male's cabin, his cock straining excruciatingly on the flesh it pulled taut, there was nowhere to go except into his master's abyss of pleasure and pain.

A sharp slap struck Meran across his face, the arcing sting of freshly bruised flesh radiating against his cheek. Vigar always was too quick to anticipate, especially when he wanted to be unpredictable,

"Answer me, you whelp!"

"Yes sir!" Meran cried out, voice shrill in panic and fear of further punishment. It was so hard to know exactly what Vigar wanted at any one time, though something in the submissive told him that he probably preferred it that way as an excuse to torment his playthings. He bit back a choking sob and held his composure. If he started blubbering now Vigar would only discipline him far more severely later. He wasn't a man someone should really be messing around with.

Yet when he'd sent a message through demanding Meran come by for him to be abused like a good little whore, what had he done? He'd made his way across the outpost as fast as he could and been outside the ventillian's quarters in less than six minutes. A personal best, one he'd hoped he might get rewarded for. So far, it didn't look like that might be the case.

"That's better," he grunted, pulling himself back and away from Meran's personal space. The smaller male took the chance to breathe, to let out the tension he'd been holding with his master in such close proximity. A shiver ran through his body as the anticipation was wreaking havoc with his instincts. It was not a pleasant sensation, the situation was not enjoyable, but deep beneath the logic and rationale lay a darker side of him that was relishing every single second.

Vigar stood up from his stool and sauntered about his cabin, moving into brighter light to illuminate the rest of him that had been shrouded in darkness. Sporting nothing but a pair of vintage leather chaps he must have picked up off some human trader, he was a man who thrilled in his own physicality. Ventillians were a vain species when it came to appearance, often favouring attributes like good muscle structure and a healthy build over much else, and Vigar was no exception. Meran watched him with wary eyes as he took in the sight he had beholden so many times before.

Both Meran and Vigar belonged to the same race. Their home, a planet orbiting some star in the empire, named Ventillis was an aquatic paradise. The majority of the world's surface was submerged beneath great oceans and seas, leaving nothing but drowned mountain ranges cutting up through the waves and leaving just a little land for life to have prospered. But beneath the waters the ventillians had grown, a mammalian species that had grown from intelligent creatures which had appeared all too mysteriously in the planet's oceans some eons ago. Their ancestors, from archaeological research, appeared to share something with what the human's believe to be 'dolphins', but Meran was not an expert on his culture's past. The little he knew was pop science taught to children, that they had developed apposable thumbs and dextrous fingers, three on each hand, and become both the perfect swimmers as much as they were capable of living upon the land. How the communal society that had sprung from the precarious evolution of their species had developed and why was of no concern to Meran. He had long since felt isolated from his friends and family growing up, realising that whilst the other boys and girls were developing into proud, productive adults, he himself seemed to stunt in his growth, unable to compete and do justice to his family name. His parents were disappointed in him, and even more mortified the day they found out he had been submitting to other men. Homosexuality was a seldom seen travesty in Ventillis' customs with procreation at its centre to benefit the greater whole. It wasn't long until Meran had found himself cast out and alienated from his own kind for being such a dark mark against the name of his species. So he left for the stars the first chance he got, having turned just twenty years old on the graduation to official adulthood. Eager to explore the expanse of space and venture off for his own life, he had set out with such optimism. Vigar, on the other hand, had been less forthcoming about why he'd left Ventillis, but from what Meran had gleaned the male had a taste for violence and had sought out work away from the planet dedicated to aquatic agriculture for the League. Meran suspected that he was too barbaric for the civilised tastes of ventillian values. Whilst they were prideful and strong-willed, bloodthirsty was not how the species would have described itself.

Standing just shy of seven foot, with limbs as thick as support girders and a chest that swelled with unbridled confidence, Vigar was an imposing figure even on the worst of days. His dark red and cream hide placed him in the koan caste of the species, a faction renowned for their impressive strength and ferocity. Unlike Meran, Vigar was a testament to the ventillian name and image; the smaller male, trapped in bondage, was from the hanan caste and so bore the green and cyan hide, the markings of the workers and underlings of the species. But even then in his inferior status Meran had managed to sink lower due to poor genetics; barely on the cusp of five foot, Meran was dwarfed by Vigar, much like many other ventillians he had known in his time. His master was literally twice the man he was, with hands that could wrap around his throat in one grasp with room to squeeze until the bone snapped, and fins that staggered in size compared to Meran's own. If he had felt inadequate back upon his home world alongside his peers, he felt a thousand times worse in the presence of Vigar, who embodied everything that Meran had hoped he might have become when he was a child. Only now, some years on from finally leaving Ventillis, Meran had come to a dark epiphany regarding himself. He was not a man meant for great things, he was meant for a great man.

Vigar reached out with one meaty hand and groped along the bound male's body, not at all ashamed or bashful in his approach as he roamed and squeezed the quivering flesh of Meran's feeble form. Hard fingertips dug against his nipples and toyed with the thick metal pierced through them both, twisting the ring with a savage yank. Meran stifled a yowl of pain,

"Good boy," Vigar purred, "But I think we could go bigger." His other hand trailed down to the smaller male's throbbing length, pulling at the piercings that punctured the head of his cock. "Oh yeah, definitely could go bigger."

"Please sir..." Meran mumbled, "I don't want to..."

The master's grip on his modifications tightened, brutally pulling away from the tender flesh that held them in place. A shrill burst of a howl escaped his lips before he caught it, but it was enough to concede to Vigar who was in charge,

"I'm sorry, what was that? Did you just say something about not wanting to?" It was a challenge. A challenge of dominance. Meran already knew he'd lost before he even spoke,

"No sir," he said quietly, head hanging low as he watched fat fingers snag on his piercings, the very piercings he had never wanted in the first place but Vigar had simply insisted upon if he was to continue allowing the weaker man to keep seeing him and submitting.

"Good. I'm feeling awfully nice, so I'm gonna let that slide," He let go of the piercings but he slapped the male hard across the face, enough to leave a darkened imprint against the green hide, "But do it again, and you're gonna be begging for nice."

Even just his touch alone was possessive and rough, denoting everything one could need to know about the man who wielded the power behind those fists. It was that power which had drawn Meran in in the first place, and now it was what kept bringing him back, over and over, even when he knows the torture he should expect.

It had been a chance meeting, one Meran had thought he might forget. Normally he avoided his own kind for the sake of convenience, but there had been something about Vigar when he'd spotted him in the nightclub. Dressed not too dissimilar to what he wore now, the bigger male had kept such cold indifference towards Meran upon his approach that by the end of the night it had eaten away at him so much that he begged for his master's attention. He had made the foolish mistake of giving the dominant an open pass to do whatever he pleased so long as he just gave him a chance and showed him what one night with him was like, and Vigar had relented. It was a night Meran could hardly forget, the agony and the euphoria, all blended into one where he couldn't even tell if he was screaming from an orgasm or screaming from the man's teeth sinking into his skin. But that night started a cascade, an awful chain reaction that as soon as Meran knew what was happening it was all too late. Vigar had seen potential in him, a talent that so few others he'd come across had exhibited, and the smaller ventillian was just needy and desperate enough to be a dedicated slave to the master's wishes. Meran liked to think he had had a chance to fight back and resist the temptation, but just as tonight, like every time Vigar contacted him, he had come like the obedient pet he was. It was no longer even his choice anymore. He was a slave to his desires, and his desires wanted Vigar to control and use him. From that point forwards, every time he had caved into the man's demands, he'd slipped a little further, getting nearer to a point where he could no longer even consider the option of 'no'.

After all, he had already had strange looks from men who'd seen what Vigar had done to the ventillian's genitals, piercings fashioned in such a way that it stopped him from ever getting hard again - though his body had yet to learn this, still desperate for an erection as much as it hurt. Who in all the galaxy would want someone like him who had already been modified to custom order for someone else? He was Vigar's bitch, no doubt about that.

"I wanna try something this time around, you got that?" Meran nodded, regardless of whether it was rhetoric or not. His mind was preoccupied with his master's semantics, he was immediately reeling with thoughts about what he could have in store for him. What was it that was new that he wanted to try? Some new gear maybe? Meran could stomach some new gear that was always an easy thing to overcome, as it all it tended to effect was the aesthetic of the scene and little else. Though when Vigar had bought that new whip Meran had seen stars and actually passed out for the first time from pain alone in all their sessions together. So his expectations walked a thin line between giddy anticipation and deep dread.

He watched the bigger male strut away off to the side, off to retrieve whatever it was he had for Meran this time around, and the bound ventillian was left alone to struggle and wait. There was so little now that they hadn't performed or tried; Vigar had made it a staple of their sessions that he was to continually push the slave's boundaries until Meran would be begging for something new. In a way, he craved that kind of freshness from Vigar's routines. Whilst the master could easily slip into a pattern of actions and tricks he liked to use, Meran would become desensitised to them and would then yearn for more. Naturally Vigar took advantage of this, often forcing the smaller male to plead like a common bitch, wanting for what new torture his master had ready for him. It was humiliating and shameful, but still Meran came, always eager despite his best intentions never to return once he left his master's quarters.

Thinking of the devil though, he stepped back in to view and held aloft in one hand a small, metallic device, fashioned of medical grade alloys and comprised of several turn bolts and plates. It was hard for Meran to get a true sense of the contraption from what little view Viigar offered him, but to the boy it looked like something the doctor would use to force apart an opening, like forceps or anything akin to that. He wasn't exactly professionally trained, but he'd seen them often enough around being used. The bigger worry though for Meran was why his master was holding such a device in front of him. Was this what Vigar wanted to try?

"You know what this is, don't you slave?" Meran shook his head, politely declining to speak to give his master the clear room he wanted to divulge what perverted idea he had prepared, "it's a speculum I snagged from some trader, one specifically designed for us." He leaned in close, the metal tube, split only down the middle where the two main plates did not connect, hanging between their faces, "I'm sure you're pretty familiar with ventillian anatomy, but I want to see the look on your face as you realise what I'm gonna do." Vigar stepped up closer to the hanging male, hands outreached to slip behind Meran's back, fingertips gliding across his green flesh, "We're an aquatic species, but not one with gills, since we're mammals, right? So in order to breathe then we have to resurface and evolution's given us a handy trick for that; the blowhole." Already Meran had filled with sickly panic from the pit of his stomach, his face draining of colour as he was forced to listen to Vigar monologue, "Unlike other species, our lungs aren't connected to our mouths. It's why no matter how hard I fuck that face of yours, I'm never gonna choke you, no matter how much you squirm and whimper." Fingers toyed around the edge of his blowhole, not quite touching it yet, but drawing ominous, dangerous rings around the valve, taunting Meran as he hung there, "But I do miss having a bitch gag on me. Call me old fashioned, but a slave like you ought to suffer for their master, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes sir," Meran chimed instantly, though it was devoid of enthusiasm. It took him all his self-control to not shudder and flinch away from Vigar's hold.

"Of course you do." The speculum disappeared from Meran's view. Suddenly he became hyperaware of whatever was happening behind him, just below his neck, between the shoulders and a little above where a collar might rest. On the crux of his collar bone he focused for sensation, his breathing now feeling unreal to him, disembodied and disconnected, fighting back the frantic hyperventilation that threatened to consume him if he weren't careful. It made sense now why he had been suspended in such a useless, immobile way by Vigar. Normally he'd be restrained but never motionless, as his master liked to see him squirm and work to impress him in a constrained state. But hung before the larger male, vulnerable and exposed, gave him the perfect position to do whatever he pleased. Which in this case meant tampering with one of Meran's orifices he hadn't even realised was under Vigar's scrutiny. "I want my bitch to choke. I want him to know how it feels to struggle to breathe and to feel me claim his one hole nobody else has taken before."

Meran felt Vigar pry apart the muscled folds of his blowhole. He was powerless to stop him, writhing in his chains, startled as those fingers, like scissors, forced his hole open until it was just wide enough that master could sidle in the metal plates. It felt wrong, cold and blunt, as the speculum pushed its way into his body, but Vigar refused to stop until the device was as deep as it could go, the turn-bolt sitting just outside Meran's opening. It was over in a flash, the whole process taking less than a few seconds, but to him it had seemed an eternity and now he struggled in his chains, his breathing feeling strange and alien to him. The control over his blowhole, the rhythmic pulse and tug of valves opening and closing for him to breathe was no absent, and every rush of air seemed to whistle in and out of his body. It was like rasping for every breath, the feeling that he ought to be choking as metal pressed against the sides of his inner being that ought never to be touched, but despite what his brain believed he could breathe just fine.

He let out a low, terrified whimper. Vigar just smiled,

"Although, bad news is you can't actually properly choke if I just plug up your blowhole. We evolved a way to speak, which requires very fine tubing from our trachea to our vocal chords so we could go from just clicking at one another to actually talking." Vigar's hands returned to groping and clawing at Meran's body, in particular sliding up the slave's throat and tightening at the neck, "But I'm pretty sure it hurts like a son of a bitch breathing through your own voice box, so I would recommend taking big deep breaths and holding 'em." The hand was returned to the speculum, fingers fiddling with its turn-bolt, "Now let's get you opened up."

At first there was no sensation other than what Meran was already enduring. There was a little slack on the device before it began to pull and push at his skin, so as Vigar cranked that bolt the initial few turns he felt nothing. But perhaps after the second or third twist of his hand, something began to press against him. It was a difficult feeling to describe; it was nothing like having his ass opened up by fingers or even any other toy, but nor was it like any gag Vigar had forced Meran to wear during their time together. Metal pushed at his opening and continued to push whether he wanted it or not, cold steel warming to his body's heat, his breathing wheezing at first through this slow gape until it began to sound like a breathless whisper. As Vigar started to get nearer to double figures in turns of the bolt, Meran's frantic panting was nothing more than an airless huff which he could barely feel expelled from his own body. His muscles contracted against the hard metal of the speculum, trying to crush and clam down upon the alien intruder, but steel was stronger than his own, and reflexes alone would never be enough to stop Vigar. In his captured state, Meran could simply allow and little else. He dared let loose a whimper, a grimaced whine from the frankly unnatural sensation, but no more than that.

"Such a good slave," Vigar complimented after some many more turns later. Meran had lost count, lost track even of how wide the device must be now. Part of him suspected it can't have been too wide, not on the first try and perhaps his mind exaggerated the feeling, but it felt as if his blowhole was now gaping, a chasm for anything to fall into to which he'd be powerless to stop. Even to eject, he realised, as if anything were to be put down there, no muscles could push it back up. After all, the blowhole had evolved over time to keep anything out at the surface, never deeper. "Now tell me, how does that feel? You may speak."

"It feels..." He groaned, the tone blurring between pain to discomfort and then tainted by fear, "...feels wrong."

"Good," Vigar seemed to positively liven up at his slave's admission, as if it were tremendous that Meran was suffering, "we've not had wrong in a long time, damn time I found something you hate. Gives me a chance to train you with it until you want that too." Meran didn't want it and he never wanted it. But Vigar had since conditioned the smaller male into things he had never liked before, and most likely this would just be another addition to a very long list of acts and kinks that Meran had never had before until he'd met his master. Limits were always pushed, then broken, and then new limits found to begin all over again. When Meran believed that maybe they could stop as they'd reached some final line, Vigar would always find something new.

"Yes sir."

Vigar's hand still hadn't left Meran's back however. He had grown almost complacent in that now they were finished with testing new boundaries, but some small part of him must have known they'd never be done until the bigger male had satisfied that dark itch inside himself for making the ventillian hurt and plead.

Something began to push down Meran's internal anatomy, through a hole he could no longer close, and it frightened him.

It was deeply uncomfortable when he felt the first touches. Just the grazing glance of a fingertip against as of yet unconquered territory, but it was enough to have him jolting within his suspended chains, the rattle of metal and a startled yelp cracking the air. The touch left, Vigar waiting for his slave to stop resisting, before the finger returned again. This time Meran knew better than to try and fight, knowing there'd be some repercussion elsewhere, and so accepted the rough, alien sensation to linger and grow. It was like trying to fathom a feeling so inexplicable that it only confused and hurt the brain. Like imagining how it might feel to push your fingers against the underside of your skin, or how holding your own heart as it beat inside your chest could possibly feel in the palm of your hand. It was sickening as it was mesmerising, and under Vigar persistent and unrelenting curiosity as it felt deeper inside Meran, the smaller male found himself pacified by the strangeness.

"How does that feel now?" Vigar asked again, only now he had fingers pressing against the spongy flesh of Meran's blowhole, perhaps just a few knuckles deep though how he could have known was beyond him. It felt wrong, no different from before, but this was treading into waters he didn't want to go further into.

"I don't know..." he whimpered, earning him a slap from Vigar. A sharp clap across the face which left his cheeks stinging red.

"Tell me, slave, or this'll only get worse."

"It feels..." he was stalling, drumming up some way of trying to convey the sensation without Vigar getting excited by the notion. Either way he put it, it wouldn't turn out well for Meran. Spin it positively, and Vigar would only incorporate it into their casual play. But make it negative and Vigar would train him to either love it or tolerate it at the very least, and thus turn it into an act of endurance for some such sessions or he'd make it an outright punishment. Both had their pros and cons, neither of which Meran wanted. "It feels... wei-"

He didn't even get to finish his statement before he was cut off by shock, Vigar very abruptly shoving three fingers down his slave's blowhole in a savage move. It was enough to freak the bound male out, thrashing in his chains and swaying, but it didn't throw Vigar off who just held his arm firm and kept his slave's blowhole plugged with his hand. Not enough to cut off the circulation of air, but enough to make Meran struggle to find his breath, the pressure sucking like a vacuum only to try and then expel his master free from his hole.

"Told you it'd get worse. Stupid whelp." Meran was practically choking, not something he was used to. Ventillian's, when in natural control of their blowholes, were not a species known for struggling to breathe: physiologically they could inhale and filter most gases and liquids having adapted to a planet's oceans full of various chemicals in either state, so to see one panicking and failing to catch their breath was a rare sight to behold. Even Vigar acknowledged the uniqueness of the scene, snorting with bemused lust, "Look at you, such a pathetic thing, choking on my fingers. I wonder what my cock would do..." Meran, still writhing in the throes of his fit, doubled his efforts as he swung about haphazardly, head thrashing about at the rather intense, brutal thought of Vigar sliding his member down his blowhole. The mere thought had icy shivers running down his spine, sinking straight to his gut where they sat, wheedling and swirling like nausea. Meran couldn't even speak, the words came out airless and rasping, just short of grunted syllables as he hacked on what little oxygen he had in his lungs. Fat digits sunk deeper into places they ought not to go and the bound ventillian began to think that maybe Vigar wouldn't even let go and give him the chance to breathe until he had passed out altogether.

Fingers withdrew however, a mercy or not he couldn't be sure, and his body sucked upon the air like a thirsty calf.

"Maybe not today," Vigar concluded to himself, wiping his fingers against his slave's thighs, "Maybe not right now..." His master moved to the shadows above them in the rafters and began to manipulate the chains that held Meran aloft. With thick, clanking rattles and his master's muscles bulging to take the smaller male's weight, he was let down from his hanging torture where he promptly collapsed upon the floor, resting on all fours as he heaved heavy breaths. Vigar moved around him as if nothing were the matter, casually unclasping the bindings attached to his ankles and wrists before kicking away the discarded chains across the cabin's floor. It was far from over, Meran knew that much, but it was a small respite as he knelt there on the ground, rubbing the tender flesh where he'd been bound afloat. Vigar would soon have something else for him to do, some new torment for him to suffer and endure for his delight. He was not someone who could disappoint.

He stepped away, settling himself off to the side, leaving his slave hunched upon the floor looking quite bedraggled before his master. A heel stomp roused his attention, Vigar easing himself back into a chair and demanding Meran's presence at his feet. There was nothing else to be done except to gather his strength and crawl across the dirty floor to where the male sat. His limbs were weak already, an uneasy languid energy lapsing through them as he practically dragged himself across, but every movement was beleaguered by the speculum still very much lodged in his blowhole. Every breath and every twitch of his body made him acutely aware of its presence, feeling the metal intruding into himself in ways he'd never thought he would feel, knowing that he was no longer in control of his own breathing. At times it was hard to catch his breath, hitching and panicking whenever the sensation felt just too alien, but Meran calmed himself down as best he could when that happened. He couldn't afford to freak out in front of Vigar or else he'd jeopardise everything.

Sidling himself between his master's spread legs, leather surrounding his vision on both sides as Meran placed himself beneath the bigger male, he risked a look up, just to see the other's face and gauge what was to come next. Vigar had a cold yet devious smile on his face, an expression he was all too familiar with, but Meran's view was blotted out by the thickening piece of meat his master was endowed with. It slid free of its sheath, flesh smooth and glossy, ridged along its spine with glandular plates, until a fat bulb slopped free at its base. He knew its dimensions already, if not by measurement then at least by memory, and he looked at it now thinking it still always managed to look bigger than it must have been. It certainly felt that way half the time when Meran was subjected to it, though he would always have to earn the honour of tasting or feeling his master's cock.

Thick as his wrist, thicker at its knot, and a deep, dark red that glistened with the slime of pre from an aroused sheath. It smelt just as good as Meran always remembered, that heavy, wet, tactile stench of musk, the pheromones only the ventillians could detect, ones that embedded and ingrained upon the sinuses where they almost burnt the receptors. The strong the musk, the more powerful you were, an aftereffect of an evolutionary dead-end now defunct in a civilised society. But Vigar was anything but civilised. With meaty fingers, he took a firm grasp of his member and smacked the weighty flesh against Meran's face, leaving imprints of smeared pre where his cock slapped him. The sounds of the collision, each time Vigar made contact, was a dulled but satisfying slop of hard dick and a submissive's face. Meran just knelt there and took it, his master's smell masking his hide, leaving him painted and marked for all to know just how utterly pathetic he was to subject himself to the bigger male.

It was enough to make Meran hard, though all his genitals could do was to strain at the metal pierced through his flesh. His constrained erection pulled at his body, desperate to harden and join the lust, but under Vigar's dominion that was never to be the case. In futile, he could only thrive and hump the open air as his body ratcheted through the gears, leaving him on a longing high of arousal. His ass clenched and relaxed, his backside thrust out like any female might, caught in the throes of wanting to be mounted. He was ashamed, and it scorched his cheeks with fierce, intense fire.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Such a slut," he purred merrily, as if the notion that Meran was nothing but a vessel for his cock was the most exciting thought that had ever occurred to him, "tell me how badly you want this." Meran shuffled uncomfortably on his knees, fatigue still lingering from his suspension, his will not quite there to muster the visions his master wanted to hear.

"I want your cock, sir," he began, all too unconvincingly as Vigar's expression faltered in just a flicker, the lines of disgruntlement flashing across his brow. "Please sir," he tried again, "please give me your cock. I'm nothing without it, I need it so badly, please sir. I want to feel it inside me, I want to taste it. I want you to mount me like a bitch and ride me hard." A better performance, but not enough to return Vigar's gleeful grin back to its rightful place. But he was at the very least deterred from lashing out at his slave - for now. "I'll do anything for, please, I beg you sir. Please give me your cock. Make me scream and sob with it, I don't care, please just let me feel you inside me."

His interest was piqued. Master stiffened his chair, his cock throbbing just a little harder in front of Meran's snout, pre dripping from its tip and landing across the bridge of his muzzle,

"You'll do anything, will you slave?" Meran nodded, already regretting the choice of words, "Absolutely anything at all, no questions?"

"Yes sir..."

"Even if I make you squeal? Even if you pass out?" Meran couldn't answer. Already his gut had dropped as he stared up at the crimson flesh pulsing before his muzzle, knowing that seconds from now Vigar would bury it in his mouth until he was choking, "good, because you will be, don't you worry."

One hand took hold of the smaller ventillian's chin, drawing his mouth up to the tip of the ridged member, lips pressed to its leaking head, "then get to it and swallow me."

With a rough shove, Vigar's cock tip speared its way into Meran's wet mouth. The sudden push took him by surprise but he was quick to adjust to his master's movements and girth. Fat inches slid into his maw as deep as Vigar wanted, easing himself in until perhaps he was halfway hilted in his slave. From there it would be Meran's duty to take over, with his master sitting back to bask and stew in his submissive's efforts. Pushing himself up off his hindquarters, Meran took more of the hefty member into his mouth, swallowing as much as he could until it prodded at the back of his throat. Anatomically there ought to be no reason to gag, but some evolutionary cut-off between instinct and impulse lingered a reflex that perhaps served only to protect the voice-box, if anything. Hence as Meran found himself reaching a limit, as he always did, with Vigar's meat, he closed his eyes and he willed himself to force on.

He slid up and down his master's shaft a few times, just to slicken up the bared flesh, before he returned it to the back of his throat, angled himself and arched his back, and carried on swallowing his fat cock. There was a struggle, his body resisting, but he quelled the instincts as best he could, though he could feel the protest rising within him steadily. He pushed as quickly as he could until his nose ground against his master's smooth crotch, balls jumping under his chin, with every inch buried deep in his maw, and he held himself there. Meran squirmed and tightened his throat muscles around Vigar's cock and milked him, his master sighing with a hinted growl as his was pleasured, struggling to hold on as his body desired to throw the intrusion out with a savage convulsion. His breathing still came as false as ever, tainting the experience and reminding him just how utterly perverse the situation was, and Meran felt himself sink lower into the moment as he wretched back up along the cock. He pulled Vigar free from his mouth, spluttering spit as the member slopped from his lips, but a hand to the back of his head refused him the chance to recover. No words were said, but the slave struggled to voice a whimper as he was pushed back down onto his master's cock, ramming back into his throat, surging into his neck cavity, and staying there. Meran writhed against Vigar's grasp, but he wasn't in the position to fight back, nor could he have ever resisted him physically. Bitterly he accepted that the larger male was going to choke him regardless of what he wanted and he did all he could to acclimatise to that. Still though the urge to regurgitate his dick came, his body fending against the intruder, but with Vigar holding firm Meran couldn't even cave to his reflexes. He was pressed hard against his master's groin whilst his body refused, heaving and gagging, suckling on the cock as it became coated in thick slimy saliva and bile.

"Yeah, that's it," Vigar slurred, grinding Meran's face into his crotch, "serve your master! Be his cock sleeve! Every hole is his."

Meran was held there for a while longer, wheezing through the open blowhole as he struggled around his master's meat. The sensation of those thick inches, the ridged plates and the hard spine, pressing against his throat made him writhe in discomfort, the heady taste of Vigar staunching everything else in his mouth. All he could feel was him, all he could taste was that rancid musk and pre that he had swallowed so many times before, and his only thought was on when his master would give him the reprieve to back off and recuperate. But Vigar held on, for seconds too long, and even when Meran was thrashing fiercely to get off the male's crotch he couldn't break free until he was given mercy.

When it finally came, late as it was, Meran heaved off of Vigar's length and clutched at his neck, feeling the bruising tenderness ache from the muscles within. It wasn't akin to choking, but it was something similar to the urge to vomit, a feeling of roughness that now traced down his oesophagus and into his gut. Something had been lodged within and bodily functions had urged to get it out but proven futile. Now Meran was left with the sinking reminder of Vigar's control burnt upon his nerves. But after all, he had promised his master anything and everything for the impalement of his cock. Meran had asked for this, even if his body rejected it.

His piercings flared with pain as his hardness tried desperately once more to manifest. But the agony drove the arousal back, leaving just the throbbing sting of pain to dull his lust and focus on his master.

Vigar's hand tilted again at his slave's chin. Looking up with doleful eyes, he observed the male with ever a malicious smile on his face,

"Shall we try that again? Only I want to fuck that other hole of yours."

Dread immediately instilled back into Meran's heart. Surely he didn't mean that hole, did he? That was absurd, fingers was one thing, a speculum was about as far as he'd really like to push it, but he wasn't being serious was he? Hadn't they already ruled that out as being too soon?

Vigar's cock slapped against his face, clammy with spit and reeking of the male's masculinity, the stench oozing now against Meran's cheek as slime drooled there from its imprint,

"Well slave?" It wasn't an option, not really, even Meran knew that. It was just empty rhetoric to go along with Vigar's verbal abuse. Nothing more than showmanship and domination. Shame cast in the back of his mind as he returned his lips to the bloated head and shuddered as he let Vigar glide into his mouth once more. But his hand at least didn't grab the back of his skull and drive him down onto the shaft, which was something of a respite, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. His master would have something else prepared, something else ready to torture and torment him with. His small, entirely unsubtle jabs had certainly indicated that, if he wasn't already well versed in Vigar's behaviour.

He pushed back down onto Vigar's cock then with as much resolve as he could muster. His throat was already sore and his reflexes dared to kick in again, but they were dulled at least now, and he was permitted to ease off his master's member when he liked so long as he stayed suckled between Meran's lips. Dutifully performing oral service on his master, he tried his best to keep a solid focus on the task at hand, bobbing back and forth along the ridged length, running his tongue against his grooves and spines. But Vigar was moving beyond his vision, arms reaching out towards something Meran couldn't see for the thighs of his master framed is view to just that of the male's torso and face. He reached one hand up to fondle his master's balls, diving down against his cock, eyes flitting up every now and then in a tremble as he wondered just what was happening in the man's mind.

Teetering upon his limit, Meran soon set into the comfortable pace of throating his master's cock just enough to keep the man satisfied, but also giving his gullet a chance to rest between swallows. Already he felt sore and it hadn't even been a few minutes, but the texture and shape of Vigar's member was enough to aggravate every inch of the smaller male's mouth until it was raw. But he was expected to work through the pain, though at best it was perhaps just a mild discomfort, as his sole attention was to service his master. Meran figured that if he did a good enough job then maybe, just maybe, Vigar would go easier on him, even if the odds were stacked against him. He kept his eyes closed and focused, pushing himself into Vigar's crotch and pulling off as he slurped his fat length, sucking intently upon the tip and swirling his tongue along the ridged flesh. It was a task he was at ease performing, especially on his own terms. Whatever his master was fiddling around with out of his view, it was enough to distract him from torturing Meran and allowed him the freedom to just be, rather than on guard for what was to come next.

As soon as he had that thought though, he knew he had jinxed himself.

From the side, Vigar drew his arms back in, and sure enough in his grasp he held something. Meran almost didn't recognise wat it was, it wasn't something that looked familiar to him, but as his view got better and he was able to make out its shape, his blood ran cold.

"Keep sucking, slave. Don't you worry about this, now," Vigar waved the dildo in his face, making the gesture of showing Meran just exactly what he was about to deal with. It wasn't unlike his master's own cock, though it looked somewhat smaller. It wasn't the same species either, but it shared many qualities alike such as ridges and barbs, though the toy's 'enhancements' were much smoother than the real anatomy of Vigar's cock. Something the male must have picked up in a thrift shop or a dirty store somewhere, probably a knock-off over the counter dildo that just about anybody could buy. That alone made Meran feel worthless, that Vigar hadn't even attempted to impress his slave, all he was good for was the shoddier quality merchandise. But still, he daren't disobey his master, especially not now, and so he continued almost reluctantly to suck Vigar's meat whilst his eyes attempted to follow where this toy was going. His ass clenched, the rim tightening at wandering thoughts; he wasn't lubed up, though his ass was clean. Maybe today would be one of the rare days his master fucked him raw and dry. Those were always the worst, but he knew he could handle them and once they were over, that tended to be it for the session. Something inside him though, a gut instinct, made him dread. With the speculum in his blowhole, their new little contraption and depraved act for the evening, it was all too convenient.

He felt its tip first prodding at the cold metal stuck into the opening on his neck. Squirming uncomfortably, his natural desire told him to back away and to not let anything worse happen. But Meran didn't move, he stayed rooted to where he knelt between his master's knees, obediently subjecting himself to Vigar's whims like a good slave should. His breathing quickened though, bursting out in distressed huffs as he already knew what was about to happen. There was no stopping it, however, that much he knew. So he resigned himself and took long, deep breaths just waiting.

"Let's fuck this hole then."

The toy was inserted, its head dropping into the open gape easily, only reaching resistance as the speculum ended and his internal anatomy began. Meran didn't know what to do. Half of his master's cock was still stuffed in his maw, there was nowhere else to go under his command, and now the beginning of a much too large for his liking dildo was being pushed into a hole that should never have even had Vigar's fingers in, let alone a fake cock. But he couldn't even protest. Something inside him was just frozen, maybe out of shock, maybe fear, perhaps even just trauma, and he was rooted to the spot as he felt the uncomfortable jostle of that toy being lowered into the speculum's opening, catching on the side and being jiggled about so that it began to slip into softer cartilage.

That was when the real sensation began. Worse than just fingers teasing with the hole, worse even than being blocked. It was the feeling of being entered into a place that ought never to be touched. Like having something crawl along the underside of your skin, every single poke, prod and push amplified until it's unbearable. Meran wanted to squirm, the urge intensifying as Vigar pushed the dildo deeper, until finally his airway was cut off altogether and each habitual suck of air brought with it nothing but the acrid taste of chemical rubber and a dizzying heaviness. There was something slick to it too, perhaps Vigar had used lube or something, but regardless the humiliated male could feel his master begin to slide the toy up and down through his blowhole, fucking the orifice that had never been fucked before in all his life. He couldn't breathe, rigid where he knelt, mouth full of cock, as his master violated him in some more perverted way than he could have ever imagined.

"You feel that?" Meran did. But he dared not answer. That would mean it was reality. It was actually happening. The slick, jolting feeling of a cock entering his blowhole jarred every sense that rattled in his head. "You're so good at taking dick, no matter what fucking hole I put it in." The dildo slid further inside. "Imagine how my cock would feel..." Meran didn't want to, but his mind still entertained the idea as much as his gut rejected it. He imagined barely being able to breathe, flat on his stomach pinned down and unable to fight back as Vigar slammed hard into his neck, balls deep in his blowhole. The feeling that crept down his spine as the toy plunged deeper into him was substitute enough to envision how a real cock might feel. What made it worse to think about was that Meran knew, with near certainty, that his master would enjoy stuffing his member down there much more than just a fake phallus.

Air was getting thin as he continued to suck Vigar off, his blowhole now utterly clogged by the dildo which felt huge descending into him. Every attempt to inhale was met with sharp tightness, constricting around the toy and leaving him struggling. His body instinctively tried again to breathe, going through the pitiful motions of inhaling, but it wasn't equipped with the instincts to dislodge the dildo. It sat there in his inner workings and forced him into torment, knowing only Vigar could truly grant him mercy. Sure his hands were free to pull the toy out himself, but what punishment might that incur from the wrathful top? He could only place faith in his master and trust that he wouldn't take things too far.

But then again, he was right. Meran couldn't choke. He would breathe through his vocal cords, painful though it might be. His body however disliked that idea very much and took every moment it could to insist Meran do something about the dildo inside him. Hyperaware of its presence, sitting within him and grating upon his flesh, intense and thick, there was little he could do to stem the growing shivers of fear that wracked him as he served his master's member.

"Yeah, fuckin' choke on it," Vigar slurred, hand planted against the back of Meran's head as he urged him to go faster, tongue working over the ventillian's shaft whilst his other pushed against the toy's base, "Nothing but a fucking slut to be filled with as much cock as he craves."

The dildo drew out, pulled back by Vigar's hand, but it was barely a second or two on its retreat before he surged the toy back down. Meran kept gurgling on his master's cock as he did his best to keep pace, false substance tunnelling into him. He was being pumped against Vigar's crotch as much as the bigger male rammed the dildo in and out of his blowhole. He struggled to catch his breath as what little oxygen that sat in his lungs now turned sickly, his body urging him to find some way to breathe as he gulped upon his master's cock. His blowhole was thoroughly stuffed though, Meran could feel Vigar bottom the toy out inside him as a rubber sack, the tell-tale sensation of two bumps for balls, pushed against his shoulder blades. An uncomfortable squirm ran through him as he realised that not only had he allowed Vigar to violate him like this, but that it was actually working. Worse still, were it not for the chastity piercings, he'd be rock hard for it too. Just another layer to the deep abyss of their sex life that Meran was being forced to enjoy.

It went on far too long, Vigar forcefully ramming the dildo into Meran's hole as his cock occupied the other, the smaller ventillian squirming for the chance to breathe and rasping around his master's crotch as short, tight and uncomfortable wheezes burst through his throat, pressure finding a way where his master's will would not yield. It was just as painful as Meran could imagine, but there was no choice else when Vigar was in control. If anything, he relished the sight of his slave suffering on such a newly intimate scale, as his cock only throbbed harder with each sharp rasp that escaped out from those lips suckling upon his flesh. There seemed no end in sight as seconds became minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours had since bled into nothingness for Meran. Endurance had always been key with Vigar and his brutal sessions, but still he always yearned for the end no matter how accustomed he became to his master's demands.

Finally however there was reprieve, as the toy was unceremoniously yanked from the hole, giving Meran the sudden chance to inhale deeply and long. It was like a cork had been popped, the sensation running in reverse as his body suddenly coursed with the reflexive desire to breathe. The equivalent he supposed would have been panting, stunted and rapid, in and out as stale air was replaced in his lungs with freshness. Without even thinking he pulled himself from Vigar's cock, drool flailing from the corners of his mouth as his body shuddered in the violent feeling of having his breath return to him all at once. A ventillian would never in his life be subjected to any such sensation before, save for instances like Meran's where circumstances were beyond strange and perverted. The panicked struggle of not being able to breathe, the alien force driving into one's body through their blowhole. It was unnatural. Yet Meran had dripped enough pre all over the floor he swore it was a load in and of itself.

"Looks like someone enjoyed themselves," Vigar noted dourly, kicking the rough heel of his foot against his slave's strained member, a smile peeling at his lips as Meran whimpered under the agony, "Dirty bitch. Knew you'd fuckin' get off on that. But now it's my turn."

A small part of Meran still shook with fear at those words, but he'd heard them often enough now that the wince that usually rose within him abated in seconds. Cold acceptance washed over him as he knelt there, his master getting to his feet and sauntering around him like a predator skulking around the carcass of his prey, half-devoured and now picked clean for what remained. Vigar's touch was brief where it was, but every glance against Meran's chilling skin where sweat lingered sent shivers down his spine, like electricity pitching against his nerves.

There was a rough jostle against his neck, the speculum sitting within him jarred as his master took a hold of it. Meran did flinch as rather than try to loosen the device and ease it out, Vigar seemed more intent on ripping the thing free from his body. He strangled a cry within him as the metal plates slid out, his flesh prised apart and forced just that extra inch wider as the speculum was removed. It might not have seemed like much, but to Meran it flared with an angry soreness that now throbbed and stung with each breath. He was thankful the contraption was no longer stuck inside him, but it didn't numb the pain any. Sucking upon damp air, he at least savoured the sensation of not feeling open anymore, even if it was soured with the feeling of being gaping. His muscles seemed to no longer want to close, not fully, and so every intake was met with a desire to heave immediately. He persevered though. The feeling would pass. It had to.

"Present yourself, slave." The order came barked with just a hint of sinister glee to it. Meran, still upon all fours, lifted his rear into the air and spread is legs wider for his master. His tail, which had so far simply been content to traipse along the floor, was curled back over himself, lifted out of the way so that his hole was left on show. "Good boy."

Hands clasped against each of his cheeks, Vigar standing over him. His buttocks were pulled apart to really expose his puckered anus, long since having shed the label of being a virgin. Given his master's size and shape, the rim was easily pliable when fingers began to dig into his hole, stretching Meran open under the dry touch. He felt so dirty when Vigar used him like that. It always reminded him of just how far he'd come under the ventillian's tutelage, and just how far he couldn't go back as well. In some small way, it's what drove him forward to keep doing the darker things Vigar wanted of him. After all, nobody would be able to satisfy him should his master decide he was done with him - Vigar was his whole world. Whilst simultaneously nobody would want Meran again since he was used goods. Nobody wanted something second hand, not unless they were desperate or weren't too fussed about where their slave had been.

"Fuck, good slave," Vigar hissed as Meran clenched his ass before his master's gaze. He could feel his hole pucker, tighten momentarily before he relaxed and gently pushed his muscles out. The sensation of performing for him was exhilarating, elucidating the moment for him as he earned his master's praise. It felt good. It felt worthy.

Fingers pushed at his still very much dry hole, one digit descending in followed by another, knuckle after knuckle sucked down into the beginnings of his guts. Meran would have said it hurt, that it was uncomfortable, but in reality it was nothing by now but an itch, service under his master leaving him primed for whatever Vigar wanted. Even the speculum, he could argue, was something he could adjust to, given time.

From above came the sound of a hacked cough, something sickly slurping followed by a wad of spit slapping directly against Meran's ass. It felt oddly lukewarm, a fine balance between being just cold enough to leave him unsettled but warm enough to inform him it wasn't lube and that it was entirely organic. Fingers spread him easier then, burrowing and flexing into his ass with greater resolve as the passage became smoother, though by no means easier. Meran still felt every push and tug of drying digits burying into him, but it helped quieten the cries that threatened to burst out as Vigar opened him up. More spit came, drooled and dribbled along his crack and smeared in with fingertips. Three fingers now, then four - two from each hand - that pulled apart his rim as wide as he could manage without tearing. Meran wished he could writhe away, pull free from the rapacious hands, but that was his master's will. Four fingers became six, with three from both left and right contorting his ring until he could feel the stretch burning against him. His cock screamed to be let loose. It was the first sexual contact he had had, the most intimate and closest to being the most enjoyable thus far. He very much wanted Vigar to just sink his cock into him and fuck him raw until he bled so long as it meant he could scratch that deepest itch that now churned within him as each second passed by. But as the moment ticked on, and the fingers lingered in greedily opening up his ass, Meran was kept at a teasing level, torturous enough to be just pleasurable whilst lacking the edge to bring him true satisfaction. If anything, all it spurred him to do was grind back into his master's hands in the hopes that Vigar would reciprocate. All it earned him was more spit, harder fingers, and rougher treatment. Yet still he yearned for more.

"Fuck yeah."

Scuffling erupted as Vigar moved. Meran kept still as his master shuffled on his haunches as he moved himself behind his slave, and not soon after the smaller ventillian felt the smack of a ridged head slap against his wet hole. Each impact had him shuddering, knowing in seconds it would soon be entering him, but he kept his composure. Subtly though he leant himself back, relieved that now at the very least master could reward him for his good work in a way he could enjoy. He bit his lip as he ground his cheeks, the cleft riding up against Vigar's shaft, feeling each spine and ridge glide against his skin and smear with spit. More was added, naturally, as Meran heard the same hack of saliva, the splatter striking his hole just as it did his master's member, and a rough paw stroked the fluids over his cock. He was lubing himself up the only way he wanted to, not with synthetic lubricants, nothing that could make the entry smooth and pleasurable whilst healing any tears or internal damage along the way. No, Vigar had already well established that he liked his slave to feel raw and ruined by the time he was finished, and so he entered Meran with nothing but light fingering and a veneer of spit.

Immediately Meran hissed as his body opened to take his master, the feeling flourishing in his guts with just the first inch.

Vigar shoved himself into his slave's guts. Meran grimaced at the feeling as he was impaled on his master's cock, but it took it with the same grace he'd so far embodied. A shudder took a hold of him as Vigar slid inside, feeding every inch that pricked against the rim with its ridges. He could mark and feel its passage, noting how deep he must have been and how much further they had yet to go. The pressure built as Meran's body worked to accommodate the increasing size, his rim stretched wider the further they went, his guts squirming against hard flesh that push him open. No matter how many times he took his master, it was always tiring trying to keep pace with him. Vigar was always impatient, always in control and always pushing. His hands were already clasped against Meran's hips now that his cock was sat in his hole, and he surged onwards as he aimed to be balls deep in his slave with a growl. Meran clenched his fists, fingers digging into his palm, as his head hung low and he did his best to relax and let his master in. The fat shaft speared him wide open and he was already fatigued from brutal use. He took a long, deep breath, and tried to calm down and steel himself.

But his breathing was hitched yet again. Vigar hilted himself in his slave's hole and ground his crotch into Meran's ass, just as his hands went wandering. One remained firm on Meran's hip, digging into the muscle and keeping him in position, whilst the other flew up his back and sunk its fingers into his blowhole. Meran yelled aloud in terror as three fingers buried themselves in his blowhole, near suffocating him were it not for perhaps a tiny gap between the digits that let him whistle out shallow breaths. Alarm took over him but it was short-lived. He was forced to process whatever panic rose within him as Vigar used his purchase on his slave's blowhole and treated it as if it were a foothold, hooking the rim of the opening and pulling Meran back onto him. He withdrew with a glide of his hips, and when he slammed back forwards he dragged his slave into him, Meran yelping at the abuse as he struggled to focus between breathing and the rough fucking. His head flailed as he lost control over his neck, his master's grasp now guiding whatever movements he made. With an arched back he was ploughed in to by Vigar, who set a harsh, brisk pace rutting his slave's hole.

"I should have done this sooner," he declared, snarling as he fucked the smaller male with wild abandon, "This is fucking hot, seeing you struggle like this."

In the damp darkness and swelling heat of sex, Meran found himself losing the concentration to distinguish between the pleasure of getting fucked and the insurmountable torment Vigar was unloading on him. But his breath was short, maybe he was addled with a lack of oxygen, who could tell? His mind was already beaten from the overuse, exhausted to say the least, and now his body teemed with new blooms of agonised euphoria. His cock throbbed with pain as he tried to get erect, pre poured from his member as if it were a leaking faucet, whilst he was battered from behind by his master's savage fucking. The spines of his member tore against his rim and left him shattered, the friction burning up his insides into a glow of fiery lust. He wanted desperately to cum, but there would be no way he could in his state. Instead Meran endured the lengthy process of waiting for Vigar to be done with him before he could savour the relief of work well done, and perhaps his master's gratitude.

"Fuck!" Another snarl, another snapping roar, "Fuck yes! Fucking take it, you worthless slave!"

Meran strained as his body was pulled back against Vigar. Wet slaps of crotch meeting buttocks, the tapping pounds of Vigar's balls against his own, and the undulating slickness that filled the humid air etched themselves in Meran's mind as he wavered between the waking world and passing out. Each breath came with the accompaniment of his master's fingers, their taste caught on his breath, and the feeling of his body clamping down around not just the cock that slaughtered his guts but also the digits sitting inside his blowhole. Not to mention the pulse of discomfort that came from Vigar yanking back his body and using the opening to direct his slave like a pet on a leash. It was hard to know what to focus on, even when it was possible, as the scoring thrusts of his master in his ass reverberated through him with sparks of pleasure, but everything became mitigated between the frayed nerves too tired and spent to know what to make of it all. He huffed as best he could and let out shrill cries whilst Vigar fucked him for all he was worth.

"I'm gonna fucking cum!" Meran didn't doubt him. It would be planted deep inside him. Only his master could cum whilst he went by ignored, "Fucking take it!"

His last thrusts were erratic. For a minute they were quick but hard, not leaving the depths of his gut where his ridges rode hard against his slave's prostate. Meran quelled a whimper within him as he endured the lasting seconds, that single inch riding back and forth enough to have him squirming and mewling whilst Vigar had his way. But then it came, and when it did he did his best to relish every sensation he could afford to.

"FUCK!"

Hot spurts erupted in his ass. Thick seed pulsed into him as Vigar came. He burrowed as deep as he could, groin flush with a wrecked ass as he unloaded into Meran's guts. The warmth was welcome, the sloppiness helping to soothe what sore and battered pain there might have been as finally something more than spit lubed the way. Meran could feel himself filling with the flood, heavy jets throbbing inside him as Vigar's cock twitched with every shot. His blowhole was still occupied, his breathing still hindered, but he could wheeze just enough to take some respite in the moments of Vigar's orgasm. He cherished the sensation, knowing it'd be the closest he could ever achieve to one that Vigar would allow, vicariously lying in the leisure of his climax, letting its heat seep into him and its glorious sensation of silky cum slide around him.

The load backed up when his guts reached maximum capacity, spurting back against Vigar's crotch once it became too much. Hot rivulets of seed dribbled down against Meran's balls and thighs ash is master bred his ass, sitting in his innards whilst he soared from his climax. Even when he had finished cumming, he stayed inside his slave, hands still clamped to Meran's hip, though he did relinquish the blowhole to give Meran the chance to breathe normally - or as normally as he might be permitted now.

"Fuck yes, slave..." Vigar panted, just as breathless as the smaller male was, "We are _definitely_doing that again."

Meran had his head hung low, the knowledge teeming in his head that this would mean more work done to his blowhole to satiate his master's newfound fetish. It meant knowing that someday, as it was inevitable, Meran would feel his master sinking the cock that sat within him now, the ridged, thick monstrosity that had impaled him on its fat girth and pumped him full of seed, would find its way into his blowhole. Vigar would fuck his new opening, claiming another aspect of Meran's body that he had never considered ever being able to give away. But he had been proved otherwise. A deep twist lurked in his stomach and caught in his throat. With a cough to clear it, he sucked in a breath and spoke aloud,

"Yes sir. Thank you sir."