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Slave Camp - Fun Times Behind

Kerra waited unhappily, kneeling on a warm slate floor. The room was filled with hot tubs in which her fellow slaves were relaxing, being given a chance to recuperate after the day's third class. It was only the second day of Slave Camp, and the first was spent in a chemical haze as her body (like everyone else's) was infused with a slow-release chemical designed to keep her sexually aroused on a near-constant basis.

The first class had been an introduction to oral sex, both giving and receiving, as well as an introduction to expected behavior. A mouse-girl named Lily provided an unwilling object example by misbehaving; she'd passed out eventually from stress and pain while chained to the wall with a particularly unbearable (and yet nonharmful) exothermic gel smeared across her erogenous zones. She'd apparently recuperated in the infirmary, because she had been waiting to rejoin the class in the hot tubs when they entered.

The second class was on bondage skills; Kerra and her mate, Emerson, were late to that class because the first class' teacher, the Dalmatian Master Spots, had taken a liking to Emerson. Fortunately, the first bondage class was mostly evaluatory, and Emerson had *lots* of experience tying up Kerra - it was in fact her single favorite form of sexual play. Her intense reactions and indisguisable pleasure had won her the amused notice of the class' arachnoid teacher, and so while Emerson now bore a special black-and-white collar to mark him as Master Spots' favorite, Kerra had silk straps tied around her neck. Neither of the foxes knew her name, though, since they arrived late.

A male raccoon whose name neither of them had caught provided another object lesson at the end of that class, asking a question without being told he could speak; they didn't know precisely what had happened, as they were on their way out the door by then, but there had been much begging and a scream, and he hadn't rejoined them yet.

The third class had been by far the most unpleasant thing to have happened yet. The class was an evaluation of pain tolerance, and not a single slave in their group had left the room without tears in their eyes. The tests were quite merciless, and even the masochists among them had discovered just how far they went before it stopped being fun. Every single one of them ached all over, and not in any good way, so it was with great relief they discovered that they were being permitted a rest period to recover. The camp's program was merciless and thorough, but not sadistic.

Some of the trainers were a different matter; the moose and hyena trainers didn't bother concealing their reactions to the screams they elicited, and a particularly rattled tigress, still crying, had been their target to slake their lusts on. She had the moose's token hanging from her collar, a short riding crop dangling between her breasts. The hyena hadn't picked out anyone yet.

The big feline had actually turned out to have a very high tolerance; what had set her to weeping was after the moose brought her to climax with a fairly savage bite on her nipple. He had proceeded to inform her that she was very clearly a deeply repressed masochist, and he would enjoy exploring that side of her. For some reason, that had made her break down into sobs.

Kerra halfway hoped to find out just why being told that had made the tigress so tearful, and halfway hoped not to; it was undoubtedly going to be a very personal story, and probably one the trainers would take rough advantage of. If there was one thing Slave Camp was reputed to be efficient at, it was breaking slaves out of their limits. Kerra had written up her own application, and was now really, really wishing she hadn't mentioned wanting to get over her trouble with public submission. Somehow, emotionally, the other slaves and trainer didn't count, but when once Emerson had taken her out and made her serve another domme, she had barely gotten through it.

The vixen wasn't sharing the hot tubs with the other slaves because she'd been ordered not to. Waking up in the morning, cuddled to Emerson, her mate and Master had sleepily rubbed into her until he orgasmed on her belly. Master Spots had been so amused (and aware of her personal pride in taking good care of her fur), he ordered her to skip bathing for two of every three days, and to have a fresh cum-spot sprayed on her stomach immediately after every time she did get washed up. So she had to kneel by the door, just about feeling herself developing split ends, watching everyone else get to soothe their aching bodies in the hot water and clean up.

There was a trainer in the room, a youngish-looking negative-cheetah female named Justice. She was as naked as they were, but without a collar on her neck, and it seemed she had two duties, neither of which involved any training. First was to keep the slaves from getting 'rowdy' (which apparently included speaking at all or having sex with each other) and second, from her behavior, was to make a certain stallion-slave's tongue hang so far out of his mouth it hit the floor. She had slid right into the hot tub next to him, purred something in his ear, and had happily proceeded to help massage his aching shoulders (much as all the other slaves were doing for each other) and then climbing into his lap and gleefully riding him (as the slaves were *not* allowed to do for each other).

Emerson was relaxing in his own tub, enjoying the feel of the heat soothing away his aches - particularly his poor balls, which had taken several painful shots already between punishment for lateness to the bondage class and the pain-tolerance evaluation. Like every other male in the room, he was sporting a prominent erection, just as every nipple in the room was perked hard. The cheetah was quick to separate any slaves who tried to initiate sex, but with words only, so far, no punishments handed out. Several slaves sharing her tub were openly masturbating, and she was letting them do it, so most of the rest of the room took their lead, each slave dealing with his or her own needy groin.

The air in the room was steamy, but Emerson was keeping an eye out for Kerra. The tubs had bright overhead lighting while the rest of the room was dark; he was carefully scanning all the tubs, trying to figure out where his vixen was. Only after a moment of panic that perhaps they'd been separated did he look to the door and see her kneeling there. He frowned, looked at the cheetah for a moment, then climbed out of the tub and hurried over to his unhappy mate's side.

The cheetah femme gave him a glance, but turned back to her stallion; no fur off her back, apparently, if a slave wanted to forgo a chance to relax. Kerra's eyes brightened as she saw him coming for her, and she rose to greet him with a hug - and *that* earned a word from the cheetah: "Vixen! Kneeling! You're his, wait for orders! Fox! She's yours, order her! Stay out of the water, otherwise have fun." She turned to the rest of the room. "Any other couples in here? No?" When no response came forth, she returned to her gleeful ride of the stallion. From his limp expression of joy, she had never stopped doing something hidden while she spoke. She reached up to her bicep and unstrapped a collar that had been hidden there amidst her spots, and fitted it around the stallion's neck to mark him as hers.

Emerson rubbed Kerra's cheek with a paw and she leaned into it gratefully. Considering the emphasis the camp placed on maintaining dominance at all times, he didn't think ordering her to lie down for a massage would be allowed, so instead he lay down himself on his back. "Sixty-nine, Kerra," he quietly ordered, and she immediately nodded and slipped atop him. He let out a soft moan as her talented muzzle slid down over his stiff length.

The fox began gently nuzzling his vixen's folds, stroking them with his lips and tongue to help massage the soreness away. Even hurting, she was still kept blatantly aroused by the chemicals, and her scent made his own crotch ache - the way he liked feeling it ache, this time. His paws reached up to give her backside a strong, slow squeezing, helping work out the tension and the sting from the powerful spanking the moose had unleashed on her.

The pleasure-inducing chemicals worked their magic; a tide of hormones helped make both of them quickly concentrate more on what felt good than on what felt bad. Kerra's abused nipples tingled against Emerson's belly fur, the caress of his softness washing away the pain in enjoyable strokes. Pinched and yanked ears and tails were forgotten entirely, save for the wagging of the latter. Emerson closed his eyes and cuddled her in that sexual position and felt her arms squeezing him back.

Climax came for them both with the suddenness they'd come to expect already; Kerra was hardly settling into her loving suckling when Emerson's shaft bucked in her mouth and poured his thick cream into her throat, and Emerson hadn't even finished what he playfully liked to call his 'warm-ups' with his tongue when she moaned and jerked unmistakably. They didn't hesitate, tongues and lips flicking and flexing. Unable to come down entirely, the second orgasm came quickly, first Kerra's and then Emerson's. A third and then a fourth shudder rippled through Kerra while Emerson's body recharged; chemical assistance or not, he simply couldn't produce so much so fast as to keep up with her.

Emerson's third orgasm came like an explosion, making him let out a sharp cry of pleasure; Kerra's head was pulled mostly back, with her lips about the rim of his tip and her tongue lapping across the cockhead, and she promptly swallowed the entire load. She hadn't kept track of her own orgasms, only known that she was having many, with barely time to catch her breath from one before the next was greedily announcing itself. It was only then that he felt Kerra climbing off of him; he opened his eyes and saw the cheetah standing next to them, still dripping wet, the stallion's shaft in her hand already oozing pre again.

"Vixen - all fours and get ready to suck. This is my new pet - I've named him Hair Trigger because he blows that shotgun of his so fast. Trigger for short. Fox, I'm going to be on all fours eating out your honey's honey - you're going to pound my ass and watch the whole thing," she commanded. With a quick bite of her lip, Kerra, Emerson, and the stallion obeyed.

Kerra was on all fours first, since she already was; Trigger stepped up and presented himself to her lips. The trainer said, "Start with the balls. Let your mate watch," with a smirk in her voice - and then laughed as Emerson's shaft began twitching, watching the first strokes of pink vixen-tongue.

"So you like to watch her cheat on you almost as much as you like doing her, huh?" taunted the cheetah - and Emerson, responding to the direct question, replied, "Yes. Um, Mistress." The trainer looked quizzically at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Good boy!" she cried, patting Emerson's head. "You already know how to share and enjoy it, *and* you're honest." She was sufficiently amused to skip his hesitation in his response; she knelt down and slid her face under Kerra's tail, then hiked her own. Her wet fur was matted down, but her body was clearly nicely toned, and her rosebud was definitely an inviting sight. Emerson wasted no time in pressing himself up to it.

Mindful that she could still do very unpleasant things to him, no matter who was stuffing what up whose rear, Emerson was careful to make a slow entry, letting her relax around him until he was buried inside her bottom. He could feel her purring, and from the mewling noises coming from Kerra as she worked, that vibration was being put to devious use.

Kerra was shakily trying to attend to Trigger; she'd licked all the way from his balls to his tip while Emerson was penetrating the cheetah, and now had just barely managed to stretch her jaws wide enough to take in his cockhead, but anything more was a clear impossibility due to size differential. Her tongue was flailing at him while the cheetah's tongue lashed at her, scraping roughness along her clitoris; she had been stripped so thoroughly even her clit ring had been removed, and the feline was definitely paying extra attention to the ends of the hole.

Hair Trigger proved he had one; he blasted a thick spray into Kerra's mouth, a huge quantity. She had to jerk her head back, coughing and letting out a sneeze, as nearly a pint of musky fluid had poured into her mouth and she hadn't been able to swallow nearly all of it. Some went out the corners of her mouth, some drops went down the wrong way, and a fair bit had gone into her sinuses. Cum-trails running from her nose, still coughing slightly, she leaned back in to settle for licking at him, having learned better than to try sucking like that again.

The cheetah reached a hand back without looking, grabbed Emerson by the spotted collar, and pulled, making him bend down until his chest as on her back. She let go then, having got him into the position she preferred, and brought her hand up under her own chest to play with her nipples. She felt the vixen on the edge of a climax, took a deft lick to draw it out for one more gasp, then drove her tongue inside, tasting the flavor of pleasure-addled vixen being driven to wail in orgasm.

Emerson groaned in her ear, her anus gripping tightly around his base. His hips were working in the ancient rhythm of coitus and all thoughts of soreness were long gone. He felt his knot swell thickly, and then moaned as he ejaculated. The cheetah took one more lick at Kerra, then pulled back, making Emerson scoot his feet back as well.

"Pull out. Hard," came the unexpected demand. Emerson, panting, hesitated, and "Now," followed. He gritted his teeth slightly and pulled backwards, his hands coming to the cheetah's rear and pushing to help him separate. Her ring clenched on his knot, and he hissed a breath as he somehow managed to draw free, feeling like he'd stretched himself another couple of inches in the process. The cheetah let out a yowl - but as he watched, she came, her pucker visibly strained and with a dribble of his seed leaking out.

Her voice was a rich purr as she gave her next orders. "Vixen, to your knees, ass high. Reach back and use your index fingers to stretch your anus as wide as you can. Trigger, line up with her ass. Get yourself pressed in tight - I want you able to count her pulse. Fox, you get up there and take your vixen's place licking him."

Kerra squeaked in surprise when she felt the cheetah lean in and lay a teasing lick on her backside, then quickly scrambled to comply. Her heart was pounding and her breath was coming fast - as she had been herself. She was by no means a newcomer to anal sex, but holding herself open wasn't something she'd tried before. She found she was able to work her fingers in and tug a little without too much trouble. The flat tip of a stallion shaft promptly pressed to her tight hole, its edges rubbing at her furry behind.

Emerson was less inclined to cooperate until the cheetah murmured sotto voce to him, "If you don't get in there, I'll have him stuff it in, damage be damned." With a wince, Emerson knelt and began unenthusiastically licking at the stallion's genitals. The cheetah sat back, rubbing her stretched rear and purring.

Fortunately, the stallion again lived up to his name; it was under two minutes of Emerson's oral attentions before he fired off into Kerra's opened orifice. Most of it spread across her bottom, but she could feel a fair amount make it in. The cheetah giggled.

"Back in the tub, my hot little pony. Rest time is almost over. Fox, finish her off with a butt-massage now that she's all oiled up. Rub it in good, then lick your hands clean." Emerson gave her a glare, but he could see Kerra's toes clench and knew she was having the time of her subby little life - so he bent to work.