FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Alrighty, delivered as promised. This one took we quite a bit longer than I expected it to, but it's a long one too. If nothing else, it should fill in a bit of a content gap I have regarding wolves, haha. So, anyway, this is another one-shot, at least for now. And, as alyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Proofread by SkyWing

Standard boiler plate: This is fantasy, not real. Simple rule of thumb, do not do things to people without their consent in real life. That is bad. No more to say there than that.

______________________

Whistling a cheerful tune, Walter strolled through the darkened parking lot on the way to his car. With the end of that day's work, not only did he have his final late shift over and done with, but he also had a long weekend to spend with his girlfriend. Nothing left to do but eat a good meal, relax with some TV, then spend the rest of it getting under the covers for some much anticipated fucking.

The broad-chested malamute couldn't help but smile as he felt a twitch at his crotch. The past week had been torture, his overactive sex drive forcibly stifled, too drained and tired to play around with Rae past brief make out sessions. Despite his exhaustion, he was otherwise at the absolute pinnacle of health. He was tall, fit, and powerfully built, possessing a stamina that was notable even among others of his notably strong breed. His soft, fluffy coat's markings were fairly typical for a malamute: gleaming white for his face, belly, arms, and tail tip, while the rest was a deep, shiny black. Most of his fur was concealed by his blue work shirt and pants, the front of which was beginning to show a small bulge.

Pausing briefly to readjust his pants, he hurried along, eager to get home. It was going to be nice to finally let off some building frustration. Just as he approached his car door, his ears swiveled back, hearing something like an industrial power-switch being flipped, followed immediately by a shaft of bright blue light appearing around him. Before he even had a chance to wonder what that was happening, the light grew in intensity to a blinding white, and his mind went blank.

______________________

Walter groaned as he felt his consciousness come rushing back, crashing inside his skull in the single worst waking migraine he had ever felt. Opening his eyes, he promptly narrowed them to slits, assaulted by unbroken walls of bright white light on all sides. He shook his head. Just a few seconds ago he was on his way home, and now? Now, he had no idea what was going on. He couldn't see anything distinct, or even smell anything beyond an oddly sterile, almost medical aroma. Attempting to jump to his feet, he realized he had been secured to the chair he was seated upon. In a full panic, he frantically yanked on his limbs, eventually looking down to see he wasn't restrained at all.

He was paralyzed.

And totally nude.

He was paralyzed, totally nude, at the twisted whims of whatever sick fuck drugged and kidnapped him.

As he screamed through his clenched, immobilized jaw, coming out a little more than a frightened wheeze, a few feet in front of him, a rectangular screen formed out of nothing and flickered to life. The screen showed what appeared to be a picture of space and stars, focusing and zooming in on what he recognized as his planet.

"Earth!" a voice intoned, echoing throughout the room, "Your home planet, and the crowning achievement of the Lupine Empire's Science League! A long time ago, your world - chosen for its diverse and many varied environments - was chosen to host a long-term genetic experiment: to find out how, if at all, our people would adapt to a number of differing conditions over an extremely long period of time, and if any of those resulting adaptations could be made to benefit us!" A cartoonish UFO appeared onscreen, landed on the globe, and group of stick-figures with gray fur and pointed ears walked out. "After seeding the planet, we left to it do develop for thousands upon thousands of years, letting you grow and change on your own as you mastered your new world!" The stick figures multiplied, spreading all over the globe, morphing in different regions to have varying coats of fur, ears, and even types of tail. "Once we finally returned to check on your progress, what we found went beyond our wildest imaginations! We immediately brought research ships to learn everything there is to know about each and every 'breed' that formed, testing their adaptations, skills and limitations. You are the-" The narrating voice went up an octave, mechanically trilling, "***FIRST***", before continuing as normal. "-of your breed, ***MALAMUTE***, to be taken for experimentation. So welcome aboard ***MALAMUTE-ONE***, Your tests will begin now!"

Walter blinked. What the hell did he just watch? Did... did someone kidnap him, drug him, and strip him naked just to... just to, what? Make him watch a video about that crackpot ancient alien conspiracy theory? Sure, everyone knew all dog breeds shared common ancestor of cave-wolves, but they had long-since died out, and those primitive forebears sure as fuck weren't super-advanced aliens. So why the fuck was he-

As the screen shut off, fading back to nothing, a door off to his side opened. Unable to turn his head, he looked as far left as was able, gasping through his teeth when someone walked directly in front of him. The new entrant was had a coat of unkempt gray fur, with a patch of messy, black headfur. He was wearing a full-body lab coat, a futuristic, clear glass eyepiece, and an illuminated clipboard hovering by his side, though, he didn't take much stock in his attire. The truly shocking thing was that this creature appeared to be a cave-wolf. Granted, he had only seen them in textbooks or museums - normally wearing torn pelts and adorned with bones - but this was no dog. He was looking, eye to eye, with a genuine, living wolf.

So did that mean that the video?...

The wolf looked Walter up and down, tapping away on his notepad. Pulling out a dark gray wand, he held it vertically, waving it around the malamute's head, then around the rest of his paralyzed body, ending by sticking the tip in his ear for several seconds. After pulling the wand out, inserting it in a slot in the notepad, he finally spoke, simply commanding, "Open your mouth."

To Walter's growing confusion, he felt his jaw unclench of its own accord, opening to let his long tongue dangle out over his chin.

The wolf looked into the cavernous maw for several seconds, recorded his observations, and gave his next order. "Close your mouth, stand upright, splay your legs and arms."

Once again, Walter could do nothing but obey. Rising from his chair, he stood in an 'X' position, his limbs spread wide with his sheath and testicles hanging out in the open.

Snapping a glove onto his hand, the wolf cupped the exposed nutsack, giving a mildly curious hum at the weight of the fat orbs. "Turn your head and cough," he said, nodding once the malamute obeyed. Without saying anything more, he stepped behind the dog, pulling his tail up and promptly stuffing a latex-encased finger up his tailhole.

Walter wanted nothing more at that moment than to scream. Aside from his girlfriend's pinky on certain occasions, he'd never experimented under his tail. And now, here he was, some stranger violating him, and much to his chagrin, the cruel act was making him swell - just a little - out of his sheath.

Finished with his examination, the wolf pulled his probing digit out, pulling off his glove and tossing it away before recording the data. He raised an eyebrow at the appearance of the malamute's red pointed cock tip, peeking out, making an additional note. "Follow," he commanded, crossing his arms behind his back as he walked out the door, his notepad hovering along behind him.

His arms pinned straight down at his sides, Walter unwillingly marched along behind him.

They traveled a short distance down a bright, white corridor, passing a few other lab-coat-wearing wolves along the way, eventually arriving at a room marked 'New Specimen Harvesting'. The door whooshed open at their approach, the wolf stepped to the side, gesturing for the dog to continue on ahead of him.

His body obediently continuing its march inside, Walter whimpered, both shocked and horrified at the scene waiting therein. The room was thin, but long, capped by a blank wall at the far end. A pair of thick metal bars ran the length of side walls, each one holding an evenly spaced line of dogs - all males of varying breeds - chained to it by shackles locked on their wrists. Clear plastic tubes were attached to each dog's painfully erect cock, secured behind the knot, while a piston mounted on a mechanical arm continuously thrust a thick, metal shaft into their asses. None of the captive canines said a word, at most showing pained, frightened eyes as they groaned and moaned through their teeth, milked against their will.

For the first time, Walter noticed the complex collars locked around their necks. Best as he could figure, that's how they were being controlled. He didn't have to check to know he had one as well.

"Slot four, arms up, wrists in the shackles," the wolf said, pointing to an empty position, a short way down on the left bar.

No matter how much he struggled, Walter was unable to stop himself from doing as he was told, stepping up to the empty fourth spot, turning so his rump was right in front of the waiting piston, and reached up, placing his wrists in the open cuffs. The instant he was in position, the restraints snapped shut, holding him upright, just shy of forcing him onto his tiptoes, and the machine behind him came online with a mechanical whir. He could do little more than whimper, feeling a slick, cool jab between his cheeks, tapping against his tailhole, unable even to clench down against the unwelcome intruder.

As the machine gauged its subject's capacity, running along the edge of the fleshy rim, the phallic probe grew thinner, emitting a thick coat of lube as it shrank. Having reached what it determined was the optimal size, about a foot long and an inch thick, it slowly pressed forward, pushing the tip past the dog's relaxed rim.

Walter wanted to howl out, voicing his misery, frustration, and rage, once more being violated, only this time with a captive audience. Although, now that he looked at them, none of the others seemed terribly concerned with his humiliation. Of those he could see shackled across the room - a tall, thin dalmatian to the left, an average-sized, though muscular pit-bull in the middle, and a short, chubby corgi standing on a box on the right - they all looked haggard, glassy-eyed, drained, and just about ready to pass out from exhaustion. It was almost like they weren't even aware of the machines hammering away at their backsides anymore. The corgi let out something of a weak, mumbled groan, shuddering, apparently in climax, despite sending no more than half a drop of cum into the tube milking his cock.

The wolf looked over at the little dog, frowning slightly as he swiped down on his notepad. "Weak," he muttered, turning back to face his current subject. Tapping the fourth position's currently unoccupied milking tube against his palm, he watched the dog's white-furred sheath and waited.

Steadily working its full length into the malamute's rectum, the fully-automated machine took special care to massage his prostate as it adapted to perfectly fit his insides. Once the probe's base pressed up against his rim, the machine slowly drew it most of the way back out, then thrust back inside, setting a slow, though increasingly rapid pace for fucking the fluffy canine rump.

Much to Walter's continuing shame, that relentless pounding and unwelcome fullness was extremely effective at coaxing his thick canine shaft out of his sheath. He let out a muffled whine, truly hating that getting raped by a machine was making him not just hard, but unbelievably horny. Being so pent-up while trapped in a room full of the overpowering aroma of sweat, musk, and cum wasn't helping his situation, either.

The majority of the malamute's shaft having emerged, the wolf slid the tube down its length, encasing it in clear plastic, just past the base where the knot was forming. He waited a moment to make sure it was going to stay on before giving it a twist, beginning the suction. Largely ignoring the malamute's sharp gasp, he turned to face the thoroughly drained corgi, hitting a button on the top bar to release his shackles. He gave the small dog's cock tube a twist, releasing the suction, pulling it off the limp, three-inch shaft, and dropped it to the floor. "Arms down, follow," he commanded, briskly leaving the room with the tired corgi shuffling after him.

Walter tried to call out after the wolf, barely managing a mumble, uselessly flicking his tongue against his teeth. Whether his tormentor heard him or not, he couldn't tell. The wolf didn't even bother to look back. Sick to his stomach, Walter was in a state of disbelief. This had to be some kind of nightmare. There was no way he was abducted by super-advanced cave-wolves and brought somewhere to be experimented upon... Experimentation apparently meaning fucked and sucked by a machine... Right?

He screwed his eyes shut tight, grateful that he was still free to move that one part of his anatomy, praying that when he opened them, he would wake up back in bed next to his girlfriend. Maybe she got too aggressive with her pinky under his tail while giving him a hummer? Was that why it felt like a robotic cock was plowing his ass while he was getting sucked by a vacuum cleaner? Could that be the source of his nightmare? Holding his breath, he opened his eyes again, utterly dismayed to find that he was still in that same room, still getting violated from behind by the merciless piston.

Without even blinking, the pit bull across from him groaned and shuddered, sending a weak flow of cum down his collection tube. The dalmatian momentarily glanced over at his neighbor, then up at Walter, immediately shying away from the malamute's pleading eyes.

Walter had no idea how long the other dogs must have been there, but it was clearly enough for it to utterly break their spirits. He wondered if it might be possible to communicate with them through blinking, maybe using what Morse code he remembered from pup camp, but before he could consider the possibility much further, he felt the rush of an approaching climax. While he absolutely hated what the machines were doing to him, between the sucking around his shaft and the skillful milking of his prostate, the machines were pushing every button he had. His balls involuntarily clenching, he made a hissing sigh, firing a thick flood of milky cum down the tube.

Despite his release, the machines didn't slow down at all, giving him no time to rest. If anything, they only grew faster. This was exactly why his fellow captives looked so drained. They were literally being milked dry, until they had nothing more to give. Letting out a wheezing wail of despair, he closed his eyes, once more praying that his nightmare would soon be over.

______________________

With no clocks anywhere to be seen, Walter quickly lost his sense of time, forced to endure being milked like livestock. Forced to cum over and over and over while watching and listening to the same happening to so many others. He initially measured some passage of time by his climaxes, though after, five... or maybe six? He lost track of them as well, fading into a barely lucid haze of pleasure and pain.

Every once in awhile, a wolf - sometimes the same one that brought him in, sometimes a different one - would either come in, either bringing in a new frightened, paralyzed dog, or escorting a bone-dry one back out. Walter watched on, drained, yet totally alert, as a short pomeranian was brought in to replace the corgi, the little dog's pleading eyes making him understand why no one else had wanted to make eye contact when he first entered. He looked off to the side or closed his eyes, just trying forget what was happening.

The dalmatian was the next to go, groaning as he shot out an empty orgasm, soon to be replaced with a skinny doberman. Next was the pit-bull, his position promptly taken by a chubby husky. Both new dogs flashed the same desperate looks to Walter, but as much as he wanted to help, there was nothing he could do. All the while, a number of other canines would occasionally pass by, either heading further down the line or being taken outside, though they moved too quickly for him to recognize any of their breeds.

To Walter's surprise, he somehow managed to outlast the pomeranian, a brutal jab from the fucking machine forcing him to sputter out a small blob of spooge while the little dog was taken down. The wolf that had brought him in gave him a mildly impressed nod as he passed by, leading the pomeranian out. Walter could only whine, that faint praise of little comfort in his current state.

By the time he finally ran out, cumming dry, Walter never wanted to fuck anything ever again. His whole body was sore. Just the thought of getting to rest - belly-down, preferably, after the way that damned machine had tenderized his rear - sounded like nothing short of paradise. And his poor, hyper-sensitive nine-incher! It felt like all that sucking had warped it into being longer than before. He was torn between hatred and gratitude when that familiar wolf arrived to release the tube and open his shackles. The following emptiness from the machine slipping out of his ass was a pleasure unto itself.

Before Walter had a chance to enjoy his slightly regained freedom, the wolf commanded, "Lower your arms and follow," guiding him out. He had no idea where they were going, though he doubted anything could possibly be worse than that horror of a room. Marching behind his lupine guide, they passed through another door, entering something like a small elevator, and after riding it for several seconds, they walked out onto a new floor. They continued on down a new corridor, doors lining the walls on either side, each with a label he couldn't quite read. Stopping at one of the doors, he made out a label reading, "Malamute-one" before it whooshed open, allowing them both inside.

The room was on the small side, decorated with nothing but the same sterile white as every other place he had been in this bizarre prison. So far as he could tell, there was only a simple bed for furniture. Even so, the prospect of rest - and perhaps sleep - was enticing. Had he the energy to wag, much less the control over his own body to do so, his bushy, curled tail would've been whipping to and fro.

"Open your mouth," the wolf said as they came to a stop next to the bed. Pulling a translucent blue gelcap pill from his coat pocket, he held it out to the malamute.

Rightfully terrified of whatever drug he was about to be given, Walter winced. Too weak to put up a cursory resistance, he closed his eyes, letting his mouth open on its own. His long canine tongue, slightly dry and puckered, rolled out, bobbing up and down with his ragged breath. Gently whining as the pill was pressed against his tongue, he was pleasantly surprised by a sweet, fruity taste, a far cry from the chemical poison he was expecting. Still, his stomach churned, justifiably wary of his captor's intentions.

"Swallow," the wolf commanded, causing the dog to take the pill in a single powerful gulp. "Malamute-one, collar end automatic mode."

Walter immediately fell backward, landing in a heap on the bed. He could move again! He was free!... Relatively... Instinctively, he wanted to sit up and run, maybe even kill that bastard wolf, ANYTHING, but his limbs were too taxed to be of any immediate use. He barely had the energy to roll onto his side, getting the pressure off his tenderized rump. Groaning, he craned his head at the wolf, breaking into the best snarl he could manage.

"Rest up," the wolf said, utterly indifferent to the threat. "I'll be back in the morning with your next assignment."

By the time Walter was able to work his voice well enough to speak, his tormentor had already strolled out the door, leaving him completely alone. He rested heavily upon his shoulder, sinking slightly into the soft mattress as he worked the stiffness out of his joints. Gently feeling around his crotch, he made a shrill yelp from the overwhelming soreness of his sharply pulsing, overused cock. Even through his sheath, it was painful to touch. He could swear his balls had shriveled to half their normal size, aching dully in his pouch.

Reached up to his neck, he felt around the collar, looking for some kind of clasp. The entire piece, oddly, seemed to be a solid strip of unbroken black latex. He couldn't help but wonder how the hell they got it on, or how the hell it managed to take control of his body. Or, most importantly, how to get the cursed thing off. He gave the thick latex a tug, getting a small shock in return. Wheezing out another startled yelp, he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking on the stinging finger-pads. The collar, for the time being at least, was there to stay.

Grunting with effort, he rose to his knees, crawling up to the edge of the bed, hunching forward with his hands on his knees. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about his body was beginning to feel... off. Given everything he'd been through, it was strange that he wasn't getting any pangs of hunger, and he didn't really feel thirsty anymore either. He felt... euphoric? Energetic?

He sprang to his feet. The drug, whatever it may have been, was kicking in. If he was going to escape, it had to be now. His limbs felt like they were vibrating down to his cells, something akin to pins and needles slowly spreading through him. His joints were no longer cracking with that same stiff, excruciating pain as they had just moments before. He frantically searched for the exit, confused by the utterly featureless walls surrounding him on all sides. The room was just like the one where he had woken up. There was no exit. No escape. No anything.

Giving a defeated whine, he ran his fingertips along the walls around the room, desperately searching for any hidden ways to open an exit. Finding nothing, he trudged back to the bed, collapsing back upon it. Curling into a fetal position, he clutched his knees to his chest, letting out one final whimper before the pins and needles sensation spread through the rest of his body, growing in intensity. Overtaken by the vibrating numbness flooding his senses, his consciousness soon fell away to a mercifully blissful darkness.

______________________

"Wake up Malamute-one, it's time to get started."

Walter opened his eyes, dismayed to see the wolf had returned. Purely driven by instinct, he scrambled upright and lunged off the bed, baring his teeth, going directly for his tormentor's throat. Before he made it past the edge of the bed, his body went completely stiff, causing him to crash onto the mattress in a twitching heap.

"Hm. Nice try," the wolf said, rolling his eyes. Slipping a hand into his coat pocket, he stepped up closer to the once more paralyzed dog. "Here are the ground rules, pup. You are to obey every order you are given. You are not to attack anyone. And unless you are given explicit permission to do otherwise, you are to remain on all fours wherever you go. Break any of those rules, and the collar goes on automatic again." He pulled out an inch-long, extremely thin, hollow metal tube, and rolled the dog onto his side. "And, fair warning, if you are deemed too belligerent to be useful as a research subject, you'll be put on permanent harvester duty. Or we'll find something worse. Regardless, unless you enjoyed yourself yesterday, I'd suggest making things easy for yourself."

Pulling on a fresh pair of latex gloves, the wolf knelt beside of the bed, getting a close look at the entrance of his subject's puffy, white-furred sheath. He activated a light on his eyepiece, peering inside the small opening as he used a pair of fingers to spread it open. Aiming the metal tube at the dog's hidden piss-slit, he gently pressed the tip past the entrance to his urethra. Applying a firm, steady pressure, he pushed the the tube into the thin tunnel, up until the base was flush against his entrance.

Walter cried out through clenched teeth, thoroughly humiliated by this new violation. His ass was one thing. Not in a million years would he have considered stuffing something into his dick. Strangely, it didn't seem to be as sore as it realistically should've been. Or at all. He was beginning to wonder just how long he'd been sleeping when an ice-cold chill began spreading around his unpleasantly full dick.

Though Walter couldn't see it happening, he could feel the tube moving the instant it was fully inserted, expanding outward, encasing every little bit of his sheath and soft cock with cold liquid metal. Once everything was fully covered, the liquid metal sent out a pair of thin branches, wrapping around his testicles, meeting at the other side to form a solid ring. A third branch was then sent out, running between his testicles to meet the ring at the other side. Having spread everywhere they needed to, the liquid metal fused itself into a smooth, completely solid mass, completely sealing the whimpering dog's cock and sheath away.

"Malamute-one, collar end automatic mode," the wolf said, ending the complete control over the prone dog's body, allowing his captive limbs to drop limply to the bed. "Now, follow me. You've been given a special assignment."

Walter weakly looked up at the wolf, opening his mouth to say something back, wanting to know exactly what 'special' meant. He didn't know what he intended to say, likely begging for his freedom, to be sent home, for the nightmare to end, but all that came out was a garbled series of coughing barks and yelps. His body may be under his control again, but the damned collar had stolen his voice.

"I'm waiting, Malamute-one."

Whimpering, Walter rolled off the edge of the bed, landing on his footpaws. Just as he began to stand upright, his body forced itself down onto all fours. He immediately moved his limbs, checking each one, relieved to find that he was still in control. Mostly. The collar had simply helped to remind him of his correct posture. Holding his curly, bushy tail low, hiding his pucker, he stared at the floor, wishing not to make any further eye contact with his captor.

Without saying another word, the wolf walked out the door with Walter slowly crawling out after him. They made their way to the same elevator as before, stepping through the open doors, briefly waiting for them to close once the wolf pressed a button on the wall.

A short ride later, the doors opened, letting them out into another new corridor, this one far larger than the other few he had encountered thus far. Instead of the usual solid white material, the walls here were made up of a series of thick glass panels, stretching from the ceiling to the floor, held up between an evenly-spaced series of white dividing walls. The intent of the glass panels, best as he could figure, was to act as observation windows looking into each one of the separated, self-contained rooms.

As they traveled down the corridor, Walter pinned his ears back, catching glimpse after unpleasant glimpse through the windows he passed by. Each room he looked into contained a small group of dogs - all males of a wide assortment of breeds, all nude, save for the standard collar - who were in the process of enduring some kind of test, gauging their respective attributes and abilities. He couldn't help but let out a humiliated whine, not seeing a single other canine cursed with the same crotch torture device currently encasing his genitals.

In the first room to his left, a greyhound, a chihuahua, a basset hound, and a dachshund were each placed on a large, complicated, treadmill-like device. Allowed to stand upright, they were forced to run as fast as they could atop the swiftly moving conveyor belts. The greyhound was moving at an impressive pace, showing no sign of fatigue, while the other three little dogs were visibly struggling to keep up, sweating and panting, either unwilling or unable to dismount their respective machines. Standing in the corner, a black-furred, lab-coated wolf was monitoring their vitals, recording notes and data into his hovering notepad.

To Walter's right, there was a room testing what he presumed to be sense of smell. A scrawny bloodhound, a muscular pit bull, a German shepherd, and an English bulldog were kneeling side-by-side, palms on their knees, feet crossed under their rumps. Unlike the runners, they each had a mass of solid black latex covering their heads, letting only their ears and muzzles show through. A pair of wolves were holding cards up to their noses, letting them take long whiffs, then asking questions Walter couldn't quite hear through the glass. The wolves appeared to be impressed by the bloodhound's answers, nodding along is they recorded the results.

Another room to the left had some kind of an obstacle course filled with various ramps, tunnels and hurdles. The wolf posted there was timing the runners, a Jack Russel terrier, a golden retriever, another greyhound, and a black lab, each canine fiercely competing against the others. Walter had to imagine they were offered some kind of prize, though he couldn't imagine what it could possibly be. A part of him hoped that a trip home might be in the cards if they had competitions. He was confident he had a shot if they were going to test his strength.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the next room he saw held a group of four weight machines, with the dogs seated upon them repeatedly pulling a dangling bar, connected through a series of pulleys to a stack of heavy plates. The first machine was occupied by a burly St. Bernard, who was covered in sweat, maxing out machine. The next two machines held a chihuahua and a toy poodle, who, between them, were barely able to move a single plate. Given that the fourth machine in the far corner was currently unoccupied, he assumed that this was his destination. It made sense. Of course they wanted to see just how powerful his muscles were.

To his surprise, they continued on past the strength-testing room, rounding a corner into a hidden alcove. A door appeared, which, so far as he could tell, lacked a label, and promptly slid open, allowing them inside. The new room they entered was slightly smaller than the others used for testing, only with more of those endless, almost hypnotically repetitive white walls instead of observation windows. It was nearly the spitting image of the almost-bedroom one where he had just spent the night, aside from the fact that it lacked a bed. Instead, the only piece of furniture - if it could even be called that - was something similar to the main body of a pommel-horse sitting in the center of the floor. His ears curiously perked up as he looked at the strange object, then up at the wolf, asking what he was supposed to do with a guttural bark.

"Straddle the apparatus," the wolf said, focusing on his hovering notepad, paying the nervous dog little heed. "Rest your belly on the top cushion."

Though Walter briefly considered trying to make a run for it while his captor was distracted, he remembered that the collar would likely just send him crashing stiffly to the floor. Best to play along for now, he figured, assuming they were just going to test how many push ups he could do, or... something... Regardless, it wasn't worth worrying over something out of his control.

Obeying the command, he crawled over, straddling the cushion, then lowered himself down on top of it. He sighed under his breath, happy to have his weight off his joints, resting his tired limbs limply upon the floor. His caged sheath scraped against the bottom edge of pommel-horse, making him shudder. If nothing else, he was particularly looking forward to getting that horrible thing removed. He shuddered again, struck by the realization that, whatever they were testing him for, it must just have to do with locking away his dick.

Moments after Walter was in position, distracted by whatever fate was awaiting him, Walter yelped as a set of four shackles sprang out of the otherwise smooth, featureless floor, locking shut around his wrists and ankles. Instinctively, he tried to jump in surprise, but was held fast by the metal restraints keeping his belly flush against the cushion. Breaking into a panic, one by one, he gave his limbs a frantic yank, not even making a hint of progress escaping the firm grips on his joints. He whimpered, looking over at his apathetic captor.

"Send in the first three," the wolf said, focusing on his notepad as a door slid open in the far wall. A trio of dogs in a line - an alsatian, a fluffy samoyed, and a yellow labrador - trotted in on all fours, though they were able to stay upright on their footpaws rather than simply crawling on their knees. Like the dogs having their senses of smell tested, they were each wearing a black, solid latex hood extending up from their collars, covering everything but their ears and muzzles. One by one, they approached the bound malamute's position, kneeling side by side in a slight arc a couple feet away. Sitting upright on their knees, they rested their hands on their thighs, and either kept completely silent or quietly panted as they waited for their orders.

Walter was growing increasingly worried, not enjoying the sight of three bare sheathes just off to his side. His ears swiveled behind him, hearing a familiar, and now, especially unwelcome snap of the wolf pulling on a glove. Though he couldn't see what the lab-coat-wearing wolf was up to, he soon found out the hard way when a pair of fingers, slathered with a thick, cold glob of slick goo, were jammed up his tailpipe. Reflexively lowering his tail, he yelped and squirmed, desperate to get away.

Sighing in annoyance, the wolf yanked the curly tail out of his way, making sure to smear every inch of the whining dog's rectum with the mystery goo. Once he was satisfied that his subject was properly prepared, he pulled his fingers out, and removed the glove, tossing it off to the side.

All at once, all four of the present dogs were struck by an overpowering odor filling the room. Walter could recognize it anywhere. He had been looking forward to smelling it all over Rae when he got home. The bastard wolf didn't just lubed his ass; he marked him as a damn bitch in heat.

Purely involuntarily, driven wild by the aroma, he felt his snugly trapped cock swelling in its prison. He was flexing his ass-cheeks, rubbing the cage against the edge of the pommel-horse, desperate to get it off of him, when he realized the other dogs were being affected same as he was. A trio of knotted canine shafts, ranging from long and fat for the Alsatian to short and skinny for the Samoyed, had emerged from their sheaths, idly bobbing in the air as their owners broke into loud, desperate panting. The yellow Labrador, still on his knees, began humping at the air, his average-sized, bright-red cock whipping up and down.

Walter wanted to scream, beyond fear and rage at his predicament, wishing he had chosen at any point to fight back, whatever the cost. At best, he couldn't do much more than let out a long, almost lupine howl.

Stopping what he was doing, the wolf's eyes opened wider as he tapped out another short note. "Labrador-five, you may proceed," he said, looking back up from notepad.

In a flash, the yellow-furred dog bounded over, blindly following the powerful aroma marking the malamute's tailhole. Ramming his nose toward the source of the enticing scent, he found a bushy tail in his way, curled down between the presented butt-cheeks. He lightly bit down on the tail, pulling it up and out of the way before thrusting his nose directly against the pungent, greasy ring of flesh. Wagging his own tail hard enough to create a small breeze, he took a deep inhale, only faintly noticing the slightly masculine whimpering from a short distance away. Either unaware or unconcerned that he was actually about to mount a male dog, he happily pounced atop his bound bitch, chest flush against his shoulders, instantly spearing the well-prepared hole up to the knot of his six-inch length. Wrapping his arms around the malamute's broad shoulders, he proceeded to pound his hips in a heat-fueled fury.

Letting out a long groan, drowned out by the sound of furred flesh slapping against furred flesh, Walter felt like was being repeatedly punched in the gut. Getting raped by a machine was one thing, but actually having another overly horny male fucking his ass, mating him, was too much to bear. He choked out another broken whine, scratching at the floor, hoping it would all be over soon, still holding onto that fading hope that it was all a horrible nightmare.

And as much as he hated to admit it, the absolute worst of it was that horrible cage. Being forced into a horny frenzy without even having the opportunity to alleviate any of the building frustration was the purest kind of hell. His dick wanted so badly to grow erect, and there was nothing less than a solid wall of metal in its way.

The yellow lab clenched his teeth, snorting through flared nostrils as he rapidly worked his way to a well-earned climax. His humping grew ever faster, ramming his knot against the tenderized tailhole until inevitably slamming it through with a loud, echoing pop. He gripped the malamute's shoulders as tightly as he could, switching to a series of short, frenzied thrusts, moments later sending multiple ropes of thick spunk deep inside the hot, clenching tunnel. The moment he was done cumming, he hopped off the malamute's back, lifting a leg as he spun around, landing on all fours. He still had the other dog knotted, though now, their rumps were flush against one another. Thoroughly satisfied, he patiently waited for his swelling to recede, panting heavily with his tongue hanging out.

Retching, Walter was sick to his stomach, beyond disgusted by the wet, warm fluid oozing through his insides. At the total least, he was thankful that there was little to no pain from the knotting, likely owing to whatever substance had been used to mark him.

Once more overwhelmed with despair, he found himself wishing to scream when, without warning, a faint warmth began spreading throughout his cage. The metal encasing his sheath was vibrating. All at once, every bit of that frustration and despair faded into pure euphoria. Letting his long tongue roll out of his mouth, he panted heavily, gyrating his hips, humping the edge of the pommel-horse while a deep, soothing, robotic voice began to speak, simply repeating, "Good dog," over and over.

Just as the aura of pure pleasure brought him right up to the edge of a screaming orgasm, everything came to a complete halt. The euphoric warmth was replaced with that same cold, straining tightness, while the voice fell silent, leaving him twitching, squirming mess, fruitlessly straining against his shackles. He let out a weak, desperate howl, yelping when the yellow lab crawled forward, pulling his partially deflated knot free of his mildly gaped, cum-filled rectum. A small river of spunk dribbled out, down over the curvature of his dangling nutsack, pooling on the floor as he whimpered, begging for release.

"Samoyed-four, you may proceed," the wolf said, ignoring the desperate pleading.

As the yellow lab crawled back to his previous spot, spun around twice, yawned, and dropped to his side, the samoyed sprang forward, following the pheromones and cum straight to the presented ass. The chubby, exceptionally fluffy dog did everything his predecessor had, pouncing atop the malamute's back, thrusting his rock-hard four-incher up to the knot, immediately pounding away as quickly as his little legs could move.

For his part, Walter was right back in a state of pure torture, his ass being claimed by a new assailant while left unable to find any relief of his own. The only relative source of relief was the smaller cock pumping in and out of his tailhole. Unfortunately, even that small grace turned out to be a double edged sword, the speed of the little dog's thrusting causing the much thinner knot to rapidly pop in and out of his futilely clenching pucker. He couldn't hear anything but heavy panting over his shoulder punctuated by a series of wet, sucking pops.

Far more quickly than the yellow lab had, the samoyed soon reached his peak, cumming hard while keeping his knot buried in the malamute's ass. Rather than spin around and wait to deflate once he was finished, he simply wrenched his cock free from the sloppy hole, gleefully prancing back to his spot to rest.

Just like before, once his assailant climaxed, Walter's cage offered him a glimpse of paradise, vibrating, growing delightfully warm, expertly edging him, repeating "Good dog" all throughout. Going cold just short of a much desired climax, the cage left him broken, silently pleading for some kind of release, his whole body quivering with need.

"Alsatian-two, you may proceed," the wolf said, summoning the final dog to claim his bitch.

The initial mounting this time was more difficult, giving that the tall, tan dog was far bigger than anything else Walter had taken up to that point. He grunted as the fat length slammed through his tailhole, spreading it wide, helped along by the previous two loads of cum.

Walter bit his lip, a bit dismayed to find himself fantasizing about the waiting reward once the alsatian was done. Without a doubt, the new pounding and stretching was unpleasant, and as always, extremely unwelcome, but having that feeling of bliss replace the painful pulsing inside his cage would be well worth the suffering.

Shaking his head, he went from dismayed to absolutely ashamed with himself for thinking that. At all. There was nothing good about what they were doing to him. Nothing to look forward too. Only the possibility of being set free once his tests were over. Or maybe he could even find a way to escape.

Then again... That burst of pleasure was absolutely wonderful, well past description... This time he was going to climax, and it was going to be amazing...

Letting out a shrill yelp, Walter was torn from his fantasizing by the fiercely thrusting Alsatian tying with his ass, successfully shoving the fist-thick knot past his battered rim. His belly was growing full, filled with his third load of cum in... however long he had been there. Just as he had hoped, any discomfort from his stretching quickly gave way to pleasure, scored by a familiar chorus of "Good dog." He bucked his hips, clenching his rim, milking the alsatian's cock with his ass as he focused on that floating wave of hot, vibrating sex. He worked himself up, teetering just over the precipice of an explosive climax, only to have it snatched away, once again, right at the last moment. Screaming as he was left frustrated for the third time, he thrashed against the pommel-horse, tears running down his cheeks.

The alsatian, driven soft by his bitch's panicked squealing, squirming and flailing, unsheathed his cock the moment he was able, crawling back to his spot with his tail and ears held low.

His job complete, the wolf snapped his fingers, getting the attention of all three hooded canines. "Good work, now follow me," he said, walking out of the room, a door briefly opening to allow them out, leaving the panting malamute alone with his torment.

Walter sniffled. Cum from three different dogs was leaking out of his ass, his cock and balls were ready to explode, and there was a voice screaming in the back of his mind, begging for more. He was grateful just to have a respite, giving him a chance to cool down and and bury any of those thoughts. All he wanted, at that moment, was for the needy throbbing between his legs to fade. He reminded himself the cage would be gone soon, doing everything in his power to convince himself it was true.

The instant Walter successfully steadied his breathing, his heartbeat no longer thundering in his skull, his ears swiveled toward the sound of another door whooshing open. He glanced over, whimpering as a new wolf walked in, three new, latex-hooded canines - a beagle, a corgi, and a poodle - trotting in on all fours behind him. All he could do was close his eyes and lower his tail.

______________________

The passage of time from that point on was one, long, unbroken blur, following the same pattern on repeat. A different wolf - each wearing the same sort of lab-coat and followed by the same sort of hovering notepad - would shepherd three hooded anthro dogs into the room. After applying a fresh glob of gelled-bitch-heat, they would command the dogs, one by one, to fuck Walter's ass. Without fail, once the dog humped its way to completion, it would add its load to his bloated tummy, he'd be told he was a good dog, and his cage would torture him with a release that would always be a shade out of reach.

Walter hadn't the faintest clue how many of his fellow canines had pleasured themselves with his rump, as, same as the harvesting room, he stopped bothering to keep track past the fifth round or so. Mercifully, at some point later in the day, sometime when exhaustion was beginning to set in, his ears perked up at the sound of his shackles releasing.

"You're done for the day," the current, unfamiliar wolf said, beckoning him to follow.

Barely able to move, his bloated guts sloshing side to side with every minor twitch, he shakily crawled off the pommel-horse, stumbling after the impatiently waiting lupine. After being led back to the previous room marked "Malamute-one", he was fed another blue pill and left alone to sleep.

The next morning, as Walter awoke, he felt unexpectedly refreshed. His stomach and tailhole both felt perfectly fine, and his limbs weren't stiff in the least. He was, however, hornier than he had ever been in his life, unable to do anything about it with that metal encasing his junk. His trauma in the harvesting room was completely forgotten. He wanted to fuck, and he wanted to fuck NOW.

He entertained the possibility of fingering himself to see if he could recreate the effect of the cage's pleasure mode, when his wolf arrived, silently beckoning him to follow. Forced to his knees as he rolled off the bed, he crawled after the wolf, hoping that whatever new test they had planned for him would get the torture device off of him.

To his utter dismay, they soon arrived right back in the same room as yesterday. Though he gave his best wide-eyed, pleading expression, the wolf was unmoved, ordering him back into position above his pommel-horse. Entertaining the possibility of disobeying, he ultimately decided to do as he was told, both enticed by another shot at a climax and terrified of what they might do if he was a bad dog.

As before, the day followed the same pattern. A wolf brought in new dogs, he was marked with heat, bred, knotted, told he was a good dog, and altogether driven most of the way to madness. Tens, maybe hundreds of visitors - never the same one twice, strangely enough - made use of his hole, after which he was taken back to his room and fed another pill, driven right back into a dreamless sleep.

That same pattern became a pattern unto itself, each day repeating, same as its predecessors, few surprises peppered about to make any one distinct from any other. The tests he passed on his way to and from the testing room changed sometimes, testing other attributes like taste or pulling strength. Though they had a constantly rotating assortment of breeds, the individual dogs were always male. In fact, he hadn't seen a female since... his girlfriend... whose name he couldn't seem to remember.

At some point during the course of his testing, Walter... if that was even his name... had gotten so adept at moving on all fours that he could effortlessly walk upright on his hands and footpaws, making things much easier on his joints. Another day, one of the dogs brought in to breed his ass was a truly imposing great dane, whose beer-can-thick cock - and far thicker knot - reached no less that eighteen inches long. Even after having been stretched out over... however many days it had been, he could barely handle that monster, swearing that it was hammering at the back of his throat. When the much larger dog tied his ass, he swore a softball had just been jammed inside him.

And yet, upon waking the following day, though the memory of being reamed by an impossibly large cock lingered, he didn't seem to be suffering any ill effects. If anything, he kind of missed it... the pressure crushing his prostate mingling with the vibrations of his cage. It felt so nice to be a good dog.

The one other clear memory he had of those blurred days happened to be of the only bad dog he had the misfortune of encountering. As per usual, he was secured to his pommel-horse and a trio of dogs were brought in - a borzoi, a cocker spaniel, and a doberman, taking their positions around him. The doberman, a particularly wiry and scruffy example of his breed, was visibly twitching as he sat on his rump, thumbing his sheath, excited about the prospect of mating some restrained bitch. He was already half-hard when Walter's ass was marked, the resulting aroma pushing him past any hope of self-control.

"Borzoi-one, you may-" the wolf began to say, interrupted by the doberman lunging forward, shoving the other dog away. He growled as the doberman buried his bone between the malamute's cheeks, instantly launching into a series of sloppy, frantic thrusts. "Doberman-nine, you have forfeit your turn. Dismount now and return to your position. This is your final strike."

The humping doberman wasn't remotely aware of anything beyond breeding his bitch, finally getting his rocks off. He only grew faster after the threat, spurred along by the wonderfully warm orifice gripping around his length.

"Doberman-nine, collar activate lockdown mode," the wolf said, sighing under his breath.

Though the doberman continued his thrusting, unbeknownst to him, a shiny black substance began creeping out from the bottom of his collar, slowly spreading down his body. The latex-like material oozed over his chest, down his stomach, and over his limbs until his hands and footpaws were totally encased. He only noticed something was amiss when the substance spread over his crotch, over his balls and thrusting cock, forcing his rock hard tool to soften along the way. Within moments, his erection and full balls were held snugly in a small, smooth latex pouch, only barely visible between his legs. He slowed the pumping of his hips, gradually realizing that he was doing little more than spanking the bitch with his thighs.

Running his sensationless hands over his crotch, growing frightened at his inexplicably hidden genitals, he yelped as his new suit pulled his arms down, merging them with his sides. His legs snapped together, merging as well, forcing him to drop to his side, fully stretching himself out, head to toe. As a finishing touch, his hood extended over his muzzle and ears, leaving nothing but his nose still visible.

The doberman squirmed and thrashed, uselessly bouncing on the floor as he whined, crying something muffled out through clenched teeth. A small handle grew out of the latex on the bases of his footpaws, which the wolf then grabbed, dragging the fully encased dog out of the room.

Over his shoulder, Walter could see the wolf loop the handle over a small hook just outside. With a few taps, the hook lifted the doberman, hanging him upside-down off the ground, and hovered away, carrying its squirming passenger out of view. At that moment, as much as he wanted to get out, escape, stand up for himself, anything, he was grateful he had chosen to obey. If it was even a choice at that point. With each passing day he was growing more docile, obedient, and horny from the dual chastity and edging.

Walking back inside, the wolf held his hands behind his back. "Borzoi-one, you may proceed," he repeated, going back to work as if nothing had happened. And past that incident, everything went back to that same endlessly monotonous routine over days, weeks, maybe months, up until his situation suddenly changed.

One day, as Walter was escorted from his room to the elevator, the wolf punched in a new series of buttons, and shortly after, they were dropped off on what seemed to be the administrative area of the ship. He walked on all fours behind the wolf, a bit embarrassed to be surrounded by so many wolves, some wearing lab-coats, others wearing a forest-green uniform. While the lab-coat-wearers were largely focused on discussions among themselves or rushing about from place to place, every single one of the uniformed wolves stopped to admire him as he nervously passed by. A few of them licked their lips, clearly enticed by his curly-tailed rear and the shining metal gleam between his legs.

Mercifully quickly, they arrived at a door marked with three large stars at the center. Letting a long, annoyed sigh filter out through his teeth, the wolf reached forward to knock. Before his fist could make contact, the door shot open, revealing a uniform-wearing maned wolf proudly standing on the other side.

The new wolf was huge, even compared to the rest of the crew, standing close to seven feet tall with a broad, perfectly sculpted, muscular chest. His thick, slightly scruffy fur was dark gray over most of his body, changing to a lighter shade on his chin and belly. Wearing an overly tight, form fitting, sky-blue uniform - similar to the other forest-green ones, only lacking sleeves and a pair of boots - he gawked down at the kneeling malamute, excitedly tapping a bare footpaw, a wide, beaming, open-mouthed smile showing from ear to ear.

Unable to stop his attempt at knocking, the lab-coated wolf lightly struck the uniformed wolf's chest with his fist. "Apologies, captain," he said, pulling his arm behind his back as he stood at attention. "I have your-"

"No worries, none at all! Thank you, as always, for your service, Mr. Kalvin!" the blue-uniformed wolf giddily exclaimed, giving a casual salute. "You always do such great work! And I do look forward to seeing the results for myself!" Licking his lips, his eyes grew wider as he checked out the increasingly nervous dog's body. He glanced back at the other wolf, adding with a wink, "You are dismissed."

Nodding, Mr. Kalvin turned and strolled away, leaving the malamute to whatever the new wolf had planned.

"Alright!" the wolf exclaimed, clapping his hands, "Please, Malamute-one, come in come in! It's far past time we get acquainted, yes?" Rightly terrified, the dog nevertheless obeyed, following him into his quarters... which were luxurious in a way he could barely even begin to conceive. On top of several fluffy, extremely enticing couches and massage chairs, he could see a number of books, games, TVs, and even a full Jacuzzi in the corner. Every bit of entertainment he ever could have hoped to see was compiled right here, including a massive, silken bed recessed in a nearby alcove.

There was even a long window against the wall, giving Walter his first glimpse of the night sky since he was... He stopped, seeing a bright blue orb in the corner. They were in space. They really were in space. On an alien spaceship. Whimpering to himself, he silently gazed up at the smiling wolf.

"So, what do you think?" the wolf asked, smirking when his guest answered with a small bark. "Ah, yes yes, if we are to converse, I should give you back your voice. Malamute-one, collar end voice control."

Hearing a small beep, Walter touched his throat. It didn't feel like anything was different.

"So, what do you think?"

"Is..." Walter muttered, shaking the cobwebs out of his mind, "is... nice." It felt somewhat odd, using words again after so long. Still, having been given his voice back, the thing he'd wanted to say since the beginning came blurting out. "Please... please let me go home."

"Oh, you are home! You will grow to accept that soon, Malamute-one." The wolf stopped to scratch his chin. "No, no, that name is a bit too long for my tastes. How about we shorten that to... Malone! Do you like your new name, Malone?"

Taken aback by his captor's flippant dismissal, not to mention the arbitrary attempt to change his name, Walter shook his head. "My name is..." He stopped. It was Wal... something. Wal... Wal-Wal-Wal... Walone? That's... at least close to... "Malone," he finished his thought, tentatively nodding.

"Wonderful to finally meet you, Malone! I am Captain Jakob, but you will call me master, yes?" He waited for another slow nod before continuing. "Say, how would you like some dinner?"

Only just then did Wal... Malone realize he hadn't eaten at all during his ordeal. Aside from-

"Yes, those pills are a wonder, are they not? Keeping your body healthy and fed at a maximum of efficiency," Jakob said, strolling over to a large device that looked like a bizarre cross between a soft-serve machine and a microwave. "But they pale in comparison to the real thing!" Tapping a couple of buttons, he stepped back as a heap of blue goop shot into a bowl. A grid of red lights crossed vertically across the top of the bowl, causing the goop to reformat itself into a solid form. After a ding sounded out, he carried the bowl, now holding a chopped steak mixed with carrots and potatoes, and placed it at his new pet's feet. "Dig in, pup!"

Twitching his ears at the wolf's final word, Malone's focus was quickly drawn to the delicious meal sitting before him. Twin rivers of drool began pouring from his mouth as he reached over to pick up the bowl, freezing when he heard a click of his... master's... tongue.

"No no, pup. Keep the bowl on the ground to eat. Less messy that way!"

Malone blinked, folding his ears back as he obeyed. Lowering his front half to the floor while raising his butt into the air, he devoured the meal. Despite its unappetizing origin, it was quite possibly the best thing he had ever eaten.

Discreetly stepping behind the eating dog, Jakob craned his head down to get a good look at the stunning, presented ass. His new pet's curly tail was hiked straight up, showing up his puffy, pink, extremely well-traveled tailhole. Utterly fixated on the beautiful, extremely vulnerable winking star between those two wiggling cheeks, he found his pants growing uncomfortably tight. He sighed, pulling a strap on his waist, letting his pants drop to the floor as he walked to his bed, taking a seat on the edge of his mattress.

Moments later, Malone was licking his bowl clean, utterly stuffed and satisfied, for just a small bit of time forgetting his overall predicament. Licking his long tongue along his lips, he looked up to see the wolf watching from his bed, his legs splayed wide as he stroked his swelling cock. The throbbing pillar of wolf meat was already close to completely erect, and no less than fourteen inches long with a softball-sized knot. He was smaller than the great dane, sure, but that was hardly of any comfort.

"Come over here, Malone! It's time for your dessert!" Jakob gleefully exclaimed, running both palms up and down the length of his shaft. "I know your mouth hasn't gotten any practice yet, so we best get you started now, yes?"

Giving a heavy gulp, Malone stared blankly at his... his master. Having his ass bred was one thing. Now he was supposed to... to suck on that beastly shaft? Taste it? He clutched his stomach, his lovely meal no longer sitting very well. "Why..." he said, whimpering between breaths, "Why are you doing this to me? To... to all of us?"

The horny wolf simply continued to smile. "Because you're all so fascinating!"

Malone blinked. "What?.." he asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"You watched the orientation video, did you not? You should already know why! You've exceeded our expectations in every way, breaking off into different branches, sticking to your various cliquey little packs, adapting in any number of different ways to the many environs of your world until you barely resembled us anymore... with a few exceptions, of course..." Jakob grinned, his unblinking gaze making the malamute uneasy. "You... malamutes, as you call yourselves... are truly something special. So much like us, only so much softer and..." He paused to lick his lips. "...prettier... You caught my eye the instant you were taken aboard, yes? I just had to claim you as my own!"

"I'm... just a... My whole world was just created... for us to be sex slaves for you?"

"Oh, well, the science caste is far more interested in researching and experimenting upon you, seeing what adaptations we can port into our own genomes to make us stronger. As for my caste, yes, I would say we are more interested in the more sensual aspects of your bodies." Jakob said, running a finger over his cock tip, smearing a large bead of pre-cum down to the base of his shaft. "You see, the thing you learn after you've achieved agelessness, Malone, is that after awhile, it gets so very, very dull. You discover everything your world has to offer and go out exploring the stars, and you know what? Thus far, there aren't any other evolved species to find! So we had to find ways to make our own fun. And now, as a result, we have all of you to keep us entertained! You do not understand just what a get you are for us! Once the science caste has learned everything there is to know about you and your various cultures, we're going to go back home, archive it all - genetic material included - and return to officially colonize! Every wolf will have a pet pup of their very own, very soon!"

Whimpering, Malone was utterly crushed, hearing the ultimate fate of his home while knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Now now, my pet, don't be sad!" Jakob said, massaging his knot with his cupped hands. "I will be taking excellent care of you! You will want for nothing while we explore the stars! And... you still have your desert waiting for you!" He grabbed his knot, playfully wagging his shaft.

Malone sneered, the wolf's words failing to make him feel any better.

"What's the matter, pup? Don't you want your dessert? Don't you want to be a... good dog?"

Lurching forward, Malone entire body was suddenly awash with pleasure. He could swear his cage was vibrating, even though when he touched the cold metal, it was undoubtedly motionless. Humping at the air, tugging on his cage, what little bit of defiance he had left vanished under a tidal wave of pure bliss.

"Yes yes yes, a good dog like you should be happy to get a treat," Jakob said, crooking a finger at the panting malamute.

Shuddering at the second utterance of those two special words, Malone obediently crawled up between his master's legs, opening his muzzle wide enough to suckle on the tapered cock tip. He held his tongue back, not particularly enjoying the salty, powerfully musky taste. At the same time, he was wildly flexing his tailhole, the fact that his ass wasn't stretched and stuffed causing him a degree of discomfort. He closed his eyes as the phantom buzzing of his cage brought him to the edge of orgasm, mercilessly holding him there, tormenting his confined, long-suffering prick.

"Come on, then, Malone! Take as much of it as you can if you want to be a good..."

Malone's ears flew up as the wolf trailed off, failed to say the second word. Whimpering, he pushed himself onward, desperate to hear the whole thing. He wanted to be a good dog. He needed it. Grabbing hold of his master's muscular, gray furred calves, he scooted forward on his knees, forcing himself to swallow down as much of the knotted length as he could. His lips had barely passed the halfway mark when he has struck by a hard, gagging wretch. To his dismay, he found himself involuntarily shuffling backwards, pulling his mouth off the throbbing meat with a wet pop. Hacking out a gurgled cough, he sent a glob of saliva to the floor. He folded his ears back, staring downward at the small stain, too disappointed by his humiliating failure to look up at his master.

"Oh, don't worry, Malone, we will have lots of time to get you properly trained at good suckery! For now, I will be happy to make use of your... far more practiced attributes."

Instantly understanding what the wolf was implying, Malone spun around, raising his rump while curling his tail again his back.

"No no, I would prefer this on my bed," Jakob said, patting the edge of the mattress.

Happily jumping aboard, Malone was a bit taken aback by the impossibly silky, fluffy material covering the overly soft bed. He swayed side to side, having difficulty keeping himself steady.

"Roll over onto your back," the wolf instructed, standing up to retrieve a small purple container from a nearby drawer.

Unflinchingly following his master's command, Malone plopped down onto his back, pulling his hands up to his chest and his feet against his rump. He kept his knees splayed, showing off his cage, his fat, overly full balls dangling just over his pucker. His tail was wagging, eager to please his master any way he desired. When the wolf opened the container, he let out a long sigh, quickly recognizing the wonderfully pheromone-laden aroma he had grown to both hate and love. He closed his eyes, his cage growing ever tighter, his rump quivering with anticipation. As a pair of fingers were roughly jammed up his tailpipe, he took in a sharp gasp, pleased to have something probing his insides once again.

"Oooh, yes! Look at you, so perfectly well behaved, just begging for you master's dick! See? I knew you'd make the perfect pet!" Pulling his fingers out of the fiercely gripping orifice, he gleefully leaped atop the bed, landing on his knees, his cock less than an inch from it's well-lubed target. "Such a good, good dog..."

Letting out a yelp of joy, Malone bucked his hips, firing a small thread of pre through his cage, onto his belly. He was too lost in a euphoric haze to register anything the wolf was saying, beyond those two wonderful words. Knowing all he needed was one more slight push to get his first release since his harvesting, he took it upon himself to belt out another 'good dog'. Oddly, he barely managed to choke out a shrill bark, unable to say the keyphrase himself.

"Now now, rewards are for masters to give! Only bad dogs reward themselves, isn't that right?"

Malone whimpered, flashing back to the latex covered doberman. That was a bad dog, and he was a good dog. He shook his head, hoping he didn't offend his master.

"Excellent! Now, please your master, and you will most definitely earn yourself a treat!"

Nodding, Malone lifted his ass just off the mattress, angling his ass upward to give his master better access. He made a cute begging sound, clutching his hands to his nipples, jabbing his pucker toward the wolf's pointed tip.

Pleased to indulge his pet, Jakob grabbed hold of his waist and, with a firm, steady thrust, pushed his length past the greasy rim. He bit his lip, the hot, moist hole practiced enough not to fight him too hard, while still being tight enough to bring him a sort of raw pleasure he hadn't felt in over a hundred, perhaps a thousand years. It was difficult for him to remember ever being so excited about anything in his long, storied life. He had no doubt in his mind that pet dogs were going to revolutionize his already glorious society. Within moments, he had his shaft buried just up to the knot into his pleasantly squirming pet's canal.

Gripping underneath his knees, Malone was barely able to keep himself from delightedly kicking his legs, welcoming the thick penetration stretching him close to his limit, hoping beyond hope he could earn some more praise. He panted heavily, his tongue lolling out to the side as he brushed his tail up against his master's nutsack. The cage resting on his belly felt like it was ready to burst.

Without any further delay, Jakob jerked his hips back, promptly thrusting right back in up to his knot, setting a swift tempo for showing his pet's rear some deep, thorough love. His jaw clenched shut, he huffed through his nose each and every time his cock's fat bulb knocked against the fleshy rim, gradually increasing his intensity as he built his humping up to a blurring speed.

Though it took several minutes of relentless, intensely aggressive thrusting, he eventually managed to shove his knot inside past the halfway point, using one additional, particularly powerful thrust to tie them together. The malamute let out nothing short of a delighted squeal, his ass officially claimed, now owned by his loving master. Jakob, meanwhile, fell forward onto his hands and knees, holding himself up, just above his adoring pet. Changing to a series of shallower, faster humps, he soon crashed right through an explosive climax, firing multiple blasts of cum into the squirming dog, painting his inner walls so thoroughly that a large amount of spooge couldn't stop leaking out past his knot and down onto the sheets. Throwing his head back, he howled, vibrating the walls with its intensity, holding it until his breath ran out. Still connected to his pet, he fell to the side, gazing adoringly at the malamute's dangling tongue.

"Yes, yes indeed that was wonderful," Jakob said, barely above a mumble. Running a finger along the dog's stuffed tailhole, he gathered some of the mixed lube and cum.

Malone stayed silent, simply waiting...

"You've certainly earned this extra treat, haven't you?" Wiping the enticingly pungent slime under his pet's nose, overwhelming the twitching dog's senses, he leaned in close to his ear. As he rubbed the taut, fluffy, white-furred belly, he whispered, "Good dog."

Breaking into a howl of his own, Malone bucked his hips, shooting one long stream of pent-up jizz through his cage, arcing up, ultimately splattering onto the wall and his face. If he had any lingering doubt regarding his devotion to the wolf, it was shattered in that single instant. He had never felt anything like what he did in that moment, cumming while soft and caged, his ass stuffed beyond full. What's-her-name back home couldn't do that with her little pinky. Smiling, he nestled his head against the wolf's chest, his consciousness lost in a hazy, warm afterglow.

Jakob said nothing more, simply gazing down at the cum-soaked malamute, looking forward to all the fun he'd have with his new pet.