FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

crack!

The sound of the metal bar bending and breaking is louder than I would've liked, but not loud enough to screw up my whole operation. I can only grin at my success. Getting ready to go in, another look around to make sure it's safe is warranted.

The moon-less night is pretty damn dark, which is one of the reasons why I chose tonight for this in the first place. The large house had plenty of light illuminating its beautiful front yard, but those were easy to dodge. It also had an alarm system that my trained eyes could definitely spot, but that was the thing about alarm systems. They made them to be so protective of doors and windows, but then the owners decided they wanted these modern basements and they think that these tiny windows are too small for anyone to break into. I have to admit, adding metal bars to it was at least a good extra measure, but it's nothing my large bolt cutter can't handle.

Kneeling next to it, I pull the window open. It's only a small space to crawl through, but lucky for me, I'm pretty damn lean myself. Plus, I have feline flexibility on my side. I take a little time to adjust my sizeable mane and comb it down with my hands. Don't get me wrong, my mane is very much a perk. It's the pride and joy of every male lion such as myself. Still, it's not something you'd want getting stuck to a bolt or crevice while squeezing through a window to break into someone's house to rob them. Definitely not.

I slide in without much trouble. With a quiet thud, my bare feline paws hit the floor of the basement. The window is pretty high up, which might be a bitch to get to later on, but I'll find a way. I always do. Straightening up my clothes, I fish the small flashlight from my pocket and turn it on to shed some light on the dark basement.

"What. The. Fuck." That's all I can utter.

The place looks like some mad scientist laboratory from a movie. It's larger than I thought. At the very center I see some kind of... bench. Approaching it, I can make out a seemingly unnecessary amount of straps surrounding it. By the far off wall, there's a computer screen and keyboard. Sets of heavy earphones are laying out there, but none of that beats the creepiest thing in the room. Taking up most of the left wall is a large, cylindrical tank. It's open and empty, but it looks like it can be closed, maybe sealed. What the fuck does that guy do with something like that?

I had studied the house. For weeks, I was parked around the block in my car studying the patterns of who lived here to make sure my heist would go well. I consider myself a pro, after all. The house, large as it is, is occupied by only one man. A polar bear. No family, friends on occasion but rarely. The guy was well dressed and everything, but he was out of shape, sporting a big belly, and wasn't all that tall even being a bear. He looked like the average type of rich person, but he barely ever left the house. Like I said, easy target. Anyone with a house this big must have stuff worth stealing, but this... thing? I can feel the creeps going up my spine, my golden-colored fur spiking up.

There's other stuff around, too. Weird tools I can't quite make out, notebooks and papers. Still, nobody keeps their valuables in a basement, so I decide to head upstairs. Despite how much weird tech the basement has, the stairs are made of plain wood and, as a step on them, the fucking things creak. I assumed the bedroom to be on the second floor, so I don't mind that too much.

Until I hear a loud bark coming from upstairs.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath. What the fuck? I studied the house for weeks and never saw any dogs! Yet, the blasted canine's presence is clear. I try to retreat back a few steps, but the stairs creak again and the barking grows louder. It's a weird bark, but it's obviously some kind of large canine. My whole plan might be busted.

The barking gets closer and closer until it's right outside the basement door. It prompts me to rush back towards the window. By the time I finally pull a damned chair to use to reach up to it, however, I'm surprised by a grate of metal coming down to close the window off. The basement gets even darker than before for a moment, but then all the lights come on by themselves.

"What do we have here?"

I'm startled by the voice. It comes from all sides, but a quick look around reveals a room-wide sound system attached to the corner of one of the walls. Fuck. Not only that, but I also spot a camera I had missed in the dark. What kind of freak puts a camera in their basement? A window that shuts down? I can feel my heart racing in my chest. This is going very wrong, very fast.

"A cat burglar, it seems. I'm sorry, but I have zero tolerance for robbers," the voice says. Presumably, it is the polar bear speaking. My anxiety grows. The fucker is going to call the cops on me.

A hissing sound catches my attention. It comes from the machines near the computer, but other than that, nothing happens. All I can do is look for a way out, any way out. Desperate, I run up the stairs and try the door. Locked. I climb up on my chair to try to see if I can get the metal grate open, but no matter how much I pull, it doesn't budge. Fuck.

"And to think that if it wasn't for my puppy, I wouldn't have caught this kitty. Who's a good puppy? You're getting an extra reward tonight. And I already have a pretty good idea of what I can give you!"

The bear's voice trails off as he probably walks away from the microphone. I don't care about that, though. I care about getting out before the cops arrive. As a last resort, I decide to go over the counters and tables to try to find something, anything, that will help get me out. All I can find are useless things like pens and notes. One particular notebook catches my eye, though. No, not really a notebook. More like... an album.

As I brush the other papers from it, I manage to get a closer look at it. My stomach churns. On the cover, there's its freaky title: "Puppy's Record". Beneath it, there's a picture of a dog. Not a regular, feral dog, though, no. A full-fledged anthro rottweiler, thin, but bare naked with his black and brown fur coloring exposed. The dog is on his knees with his hands beneath his neck in a begging position like a puppy would. That would be bad enough by itself, but between his legs, it's clear to see that the dog is sporting a massive erection. The rottweiler's tool is long and thick, as long as the dongs of porn actors you'd expect to see on the internet. With a sizeable, inflated knot coming out from its sheath and a deep, dark red, veiny coloring, the thing made me wrinkle my nose in disgust. Maybe someone else would actually appreciate how freakishly big it is, but I'm not into dudes and dicks.

Despite my rush, I still open the photo album. The next photo has me as creeped out as the cover, maybe more. The same dog, strapped to the bench in the middle of the basement just behind me. The dog was strapped down on his back, but though he was still bare naked, he was no longer fully erect. He couldn't be. Over his sheath and balls, a massive cage of metal stood that protruded just a little further up from his sheath. The dog's cock was erect. That red monster was pushing against the steel cage as best as it could, but only to a fraction of its original size. Who would get hard while wearing something like that? Under the picture, it says 'cage fitting'.

I flipped over to the next page out of pure morbid curiosity. The same dog again, this time not bound, but sitting down on the ground with his legs on his sides as if he was sitting on his haunches as a dog would. The rottweiler was still naked, steel cage covering his sheath, but what stood out this time was that the dog was leaning into some kind of... sex toy. Some freakish dildo shaped like a dick, over which the rottweiler was dragging his tongue over as if he was sucking it like a fag. Over it, the caption said "practicing".

I put the album down. My heart pounded in my chest. My head started to feel light and I feel breathing getting harder. What the hell is going? Taking another look around the freakish basement, the crazy computers, the large cylinder. What kind of place is this? I take the album again and leaf through the pages.

The page says "cleaning" and there he is, the same rottweiler, looking distressed with a large hose shoved up his ass. The next one says "stretching" and features the dog looking like he's in pain with some massive fag dildo going up his tailhole. Another one says "housedog" and it shows the same rottweiler, for once not naked but clearly wearing nothing more than a kitchen apron and apparently cooking. Page after page there's pictures of the same dog doing a variety of fucked-up stuff.

I fast-forward to the last pictures unable to bear looking at them anymore and notice that in the last one, which still lacks any label, the dog is sleeping on a bed. He's erect again, or as erect as that fucked up cage lets him be, but what's really weird is that, while in the first pictures the dog was skinnier than I am, in this last one he's grown fucking huge. The rottweiler's short fur doesn't hide the large muscles of his arms, how broad his chest has become or how chiselled his abs have gotten.

I can't take it anymore. Putting the album down, I go back to looking for a way out. I HAVE to find a way out of this messed up place! My head feels heavier than it should. The light hissing catches my attention again and, following its sound, I get closer to a small grating on the wall. When I look at it, I realize that there's something coming out of it. Some... gas. Taking a sniff at it I realize it smells chemical. My eyes go wide, but my head feels even heavier just from smelling it.

My arms feel heavier. My legs barely move. I don't want to fall, but my knees bend. I can still hear my heart pounding even louder in my chest, but no amount of adrenaline can keep my heavy eyes open. When I close them, the world goes black and my thoughts vanish.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

I can feel the time passing. Sometimes I can feel but most of the time I can't. I try to think, but thinking is hard. I think about moving, but moving is even harder. I can hear a voice, though. It tells me things, but to understand what that is requires thinking and thinking is hard. I've heard it say it so many times now, and it keeps saying them again and again. Sometimes I can almost grasp it. Reality. But it always slips away... I feel like I'm floating. I can feel it on my skin, on my fur. Water? But it's so warm... I don't need to move. I can barely stay awake.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

When I open my eyes, it almost hurts. It's so bright! All I can do is groan, though. I'm lying there, as I've been every day for the past... many days. I don't know. On the first days, I felt so weak I could barely lift a claw. Lucky for me, he was there to feed me, clean me up, take care of me. It made me happy. Yet, after a while, he was gone. I felt my heart tighten up a little when it happened.

I was so confused. I couldn't remember, couldn't think, could barely make reason of anything. That was many days ago, though, and now I'm feeling better. I'm feeling well enough that, when my eyes adjust to the faint basement light, I can sigh. The light is always on. I hate sleeping with the lights on. Yet, when I try to think about where else I hated sleeping with the lights on, I can't. I just... can't. I feel like I should be able to, but I can't. It worries me a little, but just a little.

All I can do is wait. I know it's still early. My bored eyes look up and I see the same thing I see every day up in the ceiling. Myself. I had never noticed there was a mirror there, right above this bench on the center of the basement, but now I can't notice anything else.

I'm aware that I'm naked. As I stare at my own form, I feel some semblance of shame, but it's hard to give that much importance. It feels like an alien feeling I maybe shouldn't have, I don't know. I also seem to have lost some weight. I was already lean to begin with, I'm sure of that, but now my hips are so thin. Beneath my short, golden leonine fur I can see my defined muscles. Memories of a gym fill my head, seemingly connected with those, but I can't quite grasp those, either. It's like they're little flashes. Images of a movie I've only seen once and many, many years ago.

Above my defined abs, my chest expands a little, but that's where the muscles stop. I've never been much of a fan of weights. My arms are as thin as my legs, my short muzzle rising above my mane. I can remember I'm 21 years old, that my birthday is July 5th... Yet I can't remember the last time I trimmed my mane. I like letting it grow thick, it makes me look older. Why can't I remember?

I shift around in place. The straps keeping my wrists and ankles to the bench feel tight, but they're made of soft stuff, so they don't hurt. I've been tied here for as long as I can remember, but he said it's important that I stay like this, so I do.

As time continues to pass and I keep staring up as myself, I start to think more. Why do I have to stay like this? How did I get here? When can I leave? Where would I go? I have so many questions in my head. So many things that don't add up, don't make sense. I feel like I should worry more about all of that, but I still feel relaxed. Should I be so relaxed?

More time goes by. I continue to ponder over things, but my ears twitch when I hear sounds coming from upstairs. My heart starts beating faster and all of my thoughts shift towards him. When I think back about my moments with him, I can remember them all clear as day. It's like looking at a plain mirror as opposed to a small, muddy puddle of water on a rainy day.

Without meaning to, I smile. Thinking about him makes me happy. I find my heart starting to beat faster because, after all those days, I already know his routine. He walks around upstairs for a while, then the sound of water running through the basement pipes comes, and then after a little more walking...

I can hear the door locks opening. One by one, the sound of each of the five different locks comes in sequence, and my excitement grows with each of them. My feline tail, the only part of me that is truly free, swishes back and forth between my legs. Then, the door opens and then the wooden stairs creak after each of his heavy steps. When he approaches, he finds me smiling at him with excitement. He smiles back. He's so kind!

The polar bear is tall. Taller than I would be if I stood up, I'm pretty sure, but I haven't been able to compare yet. His thick, white fur gets thicker around the middle, where he sports a wide, big belly and a large frame. If it were anyone else I'd think they were out of shape, but on him, it looks wonderful.

"Good morning. How's my Kitty doing today?" The bear puts his hand on my abs and caresses them, feeling my muscles as he always does. I look down at his hand and, for a moment, I feel a faint thread of those old instincts. A fuzzy memory of me punching a dude for touching me like that once flashes in my mind. Some fag at some party. Yet I can't make out any details. It feels so... disconnected. The bear notices me frowning when I struggle with those thoughts, I think, because his hand comes up to my chin to direct my eyes at him.

"I asked you a question, didn't I?" His tone is friendly, yet I can notice a tiny hint of impatience behind it. I feel my face starting to redden. He's displeased, and for some reason that makes my heart wrench inside my chest.

"I'm so sorry!" I quickly say in a weak attempt to rectify my mistake. "I'm doing good. I'm doing very good, master."

The word feels soft in my lips. It feels right. Master. He's master. I feel like I knew his name once, but why should that matter? He's master. The smile that my words bring to his lips makes me smile as well.

"That's better."

The bear's hand goes down again, trailing through my lean chest, my stomach... and then to touch me between my legs. I feel something in my sheath when he touches me. His fingers feel it, then trail down to feel my round, furry nuts beneath them. The fur is shorter and darker there. I look up at the mirror and I can see everything, then I look at the bear and see the hungry look in his eyes. The touch still feels weird to me. He's a man, after all. But... why does that matter again?

"We'll get your morning exercises done, then since it's Saturday, I think you might be ready for the next steps. How are you feeling, Kitty? Think you're ready for the next steps? Ready to serve your master as best as you can?" The bear's voice was condescending, but I don't even need to think twice before answering.

All the eagerness in my voice is genuine. "Yes, master!"

I love the morning exercises. The bear undoes the strap keeping one of my arms to the bench, then works with me to move it back and forth. It feels so good on my sore muscles to move it! Then, when he's done with one arm, he straps it back down and moves on to the next. After that, it's my legs, one after the other as well, and I move everything with him just as he wants me to.

After that, master gives me a drink from the bottle of water he keeps nearby. Usually, it is followed by food, but today things seem to be different. The bear takes his time messing with notebooks, computers and things I don't need to understand according to him and I wait. When he's done, his hands return to my body. I remember that in the first days his touching made me grow stiff and wary, but it's really starting to feel natural. It helps that I can see how much it pleases him to touch me like that, so that makes me feel better about myself, too.

"We're going to test if you're doing well enough to move on. I've got the perfect way to do it," the bear explained. I find myself eager to prove to him that I am good enough. Much to my surprise, the bear undoes the straps around my wrists again. This time both of them! My ankles and legs remain strapped to the bench, however. Master seems to take some time to study me after he does that, but I choose to just remain there, arms in the same place they were. That seems to please him, too.

"You can sit up," he says, and only then I obey. It feels so weird to see the world from a different angle after so long. It also allows me to look around the basement in a better fashion, too. The counters by the side filled with notebooks, instruments and tools seem familiar. The same can be said about the weird machine at the back. Staring at it, my eyes widen just a little bit. Little faint flashes of memories flood to me. The world through that tank's glass. Water. Floating. Feeling nothing, hearing the voice...

"How are you feeling, Kitty?"

The bear's voice snaps me out of it. I look at him and smile. It's so much easier than trying to think!

"I'm feeling good, master," I reply again. Each time I do, he seems pleased and I get joy. The bear moves to the counter, plugs something in one of the power outlets and brings it to me. Looking down at his hand, I recognize the object. An electric shaver.

"So, Kitty. You want to make master happy, don't you?" the bear asks and immediately my eyes fly up to him and I nod. It's the thing I want the most in the world.

"Well, then you know what would make master really, really happy?" The bear presses the button on the shaver and it starts buzzing. A slow, silent buzz that draws my attention to it. I look at the bear still confused until he elaborates.

"Master here wants your mane shaved."

I feel my heart speed up. My eyes widen just a little and, reflexively, my hand comes up to feel the puffy, darker fur around my neck. I look up at the only mirror and see myself staring up. I remember some of the personal pride I have over my mane, but most of all I just know what feels natural. And that is, that a lion's mane is precious. That it would take months to grow it back up!

"My mane, master?" For the first time, I feel torn. I want- no, I need to make master happy, but he's asking for something I really, really don't want to do. The bear's eyes are still upon me and when I look at him, I fear he might be disappointed at my doubts. Yet the doubts are still in there. What do I do?

"Yes, your mane." The bear speaks calmly as if he was explaining things to a child. "This mane makes you look ten years older. Don't get me wrong, I'm not into cubs, but if I'm gonna keep a hot twink I want him looking like a hot twink."

I stare at the bear. I can't really tell if the logic behind the explanation works or not, but I've been struggling with logic a lot lately. The bear might have noticed that. His hand came to my muzzle, fondling my cheek, and it made me feel a little better.

"We'll leave a little bit around the sides. Just enough to make you cute for me," the bear said, his hand trailing down to the beginning of my mane at the side of my muzzle. "Can you do that, Kitty? Will you do that for master?"

When the polar bear asks me like that, I feel more resolute. I still love my mane, but when I think about saying no to master? That's downright impossible.

I nod. "Yes, master."

The smile that grows on the bear's face is bright enough to make my day alone.

"Good. Here," the bear says, then he presents the shaver to me. I look down at it, reluctantly picking it up, then look up at him again. He expects me to do it myself? Shave my own mane?

"Don't keep me waiting, Kitty. If there's one thing I hate, it's waiting." The bear's tone is stern. It makes me feel an urge to obey, so I quickly nod. My eyes trail up to the mirror to look at myself. I can feel my heart pounding. My mane. My mane. What's a lion without his mane? Barely a man.

But the master hates waiting, so there's no time for more doubting. It feels easier than I thought it would. At least, physically. As I carefully slide the powerful shaver through the fur, it falls down to the sides of the bench in large clumps. I watch it shed and I swear I can feel some of my pride falling down with it. What a strange thought...

"You're doing so well, Kitty," the bear says. It makes me glance at him and smile. The encouragement spurs me on. Master is happy! I feel joy swell up inside of me in a way I didn't know was possible until now. Suddenly I need more of that. My hands speed up and I keep watching my mane fall apart little by little until I can feel the shaver right against my neck. The fur grows lighter in color now that it's shorter as if there had never been any mane there to begin with. As if I was some female or cub on his teenage years without a mane to call his own.

The shaver goes by my neck and I make sure it's trimmed short. The bear looks happy with that and encourages me further, so I keep going. It's only when I reach the sides of my muzzle where only a tiny bit of darker fur is left that his hand gently comes to stop my own.

"That's enough. Give it here." I obey, of course, and the bear does the finishing touches himself while I watch. He was right. I do look five years younger without my mane. It reminds me of myself when I was eighteen, scurrying the streets, spraying walls, wearing a hood to hide my lack of proper neck fur.

"Hngh..." The memories hurt. Are they right?

The shaver's noise stops and I look at the bear instead. He's smiling. That makes me so happy.

"You look so cute like that, Kitty. Great job. Master is proud." As his hand comes to caress the side of my muzzle, I just can't help but smile with joy. I can't even tell why I feel so happy, but connecting the dots is hard and I can't deny what I'm feeling. Then, the bear pushes back against my chest to make me lie back down on the bench and then gently takes hold of my wrist and presses it back against the bench so he can tie me back down against it. I don't fight it, of course, even if I don't really like it. Then the bear pulls his phone out, points it at me and takes a picture with my confused self staring at the camera.

"You passed my test! You're becoming a good Kitty. Keep being this good and tomorrow we can move on to your new life." The bear leans in and kisses my forehead. It makes me flustered and again, I smile involuntarily and nod. Then, the bear's hand feels my neck one more time before the hand trails down my body through my chest, my abs and finally, giving my vulnerable sheath a little squeeze and my balls a little cup before pulling away. After that, the bear goes through the usual process. He holds my sheath and directs it so I can piss, then washes my fur with a cold wet sponge.

It breaks my heart to watch the bear go up the stairs and leave me behind, but I don't dare complain. Master must know what he's doing. He always knows.

The next day feels even longer than the previous ones. Staring up at myself with no mane feels like staring at a stranger. As always, without master around, I find myself getting lost in thoughts that I can't tell if are right or wrong. The more I think about the whole thing, the surer I am that everything is wrong. Why can't the master just stay with me? When I'm with him, everything feels just so... right. And, yet, I shaved my own mane for him. How could I do that? What the fuck is wrong with me?

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

The boredom eventually turns into sleep. I can't tell the time, but it feels like a long time before I can hear the bear coming closer again. My heart jumps in my chest when the door opens and he returns. The mere sight of him pushes all the bad thoughts out of my head so that I can properly appreciate his form. Today he's shirtless, his white fur and big belly resting above the waist of the sweatpants he's wearing. It's just beautiful.

"How's my Kitty doing today?" His hand comes to rest right over my chest, as it often does, feeling me up in a way that would once have made me very uncomfortable. This time it trails up to my bare, short-furred neck to feel it as well.

"I'm doing well, master!" One trick I have learned is that using the word 'master' always makes a hint of a smile appear on his muzzle. I love seeing that.

"Very good. Are you feeling ready to come upstairs with me? See the house you'll be serving in and meet your little pet buddy?"

The question catches me off-guard. My wandering thoughts had already considered the house upstairs. I have a good memory of how it looked from the outside for some reason. Yet, the thought of him letting me go up there hadn't really crossed my mind. It was only logical, so I'm not sure why I hadn't thought of that. Regardless, all I can do is give him my brightest smile.

"Yes, master! I'd love that!"

The bear smiles as well. He undoes the straps around my wrists first, takes some time to look at me as if he expects or thinks I'd do something without him ordering it. Only then does he let my legs go free as well. For the first time in I'm not sure how long, I'm free. Yet I still lay there over the bench, looking at the bear. I'm not sure what he wants from me and I'm kinda scared of making him mad. It's easier when we just stick to the stuff I know he likes.

He gives my shoulder a caring little pat. "Up up, Kitty. You might be a little stiff at first, but you'll get the hang of it again soon enough."

I sit up. It does feel weird, after lying down for so long. My hand comes up to feel my neck and finally able to properly look around, I see the remnants of darker fur that once was my mane around the floor. It makes my heart sting, but I ignore it. When I stand up, my legs feel a little wobbly and I feel strangely aware that I'm naked. As if I wasn't supposed to be while walking around. The bear doesn't say anything about it, though, so neither do I.

"Good Kitty. Come on." Without waiting, the bear grabs my hand and guides me. Step by step, he takes me to the wooden stairs and as I feel them creak loudly under my bare feet. That too feels somewhat familiar, but I can't quite place it. Before long, he's opening the door and we're out of the basement.

It's brighter than I thought it'd be. Also large. The brief hallway that leads down to the basement gives way to one of the largest, fanciest living rooms I've ever seen. Memories of a tiny little one-room apartment jump to the back of my mind as a means of comparison, but I'm not sure where they come from. Before I can even attempt to think about that, a loud bark startles me. Then I see him. He stops and looks just as startled to see me, but I have no idea why.

"Puppy! Come meet your new... 'friend'" The bear's voice takes on a cooing tone as if talking to an actual, feral puppy. Yet, 'puppy' is one of the last words I'd use to describe the dog that stands before us at first glance. He's a rottweiler, that much I can see, as made clear by his floppy ears, short muzzle and black and brown fur pattern. What's really impressive about the dog, however, is his sheer size. He looks like he came straight from a bodybuilder magazine cover. With his innately short fur, every inch of his muscles is visible to the naked eye. His biceps. His thighs. His perfectly sculpted abdomen.

And yet, though my eyes were drawn to his size and muscles at first, it is between his legs that they stop. The dog is completely naked just like I am, yet while my modest, soft dick is safely hidden inside my sheath, his... Well, it is also hidden, but his large, short-furred balls and even larger sheath are also enveloped by a large steel cage of the likes I've never seen before. That stuff must have been taken directly from the kinkiest pits of hell. Or...

Have I seen it before?

Not chastity cages. I've never touched those types of things in my life, of that I am sure. But that cage in particular. No, that dog. I remember pictures of him, except he was much smaller and thinner. But he was naked. And he was...

"Hngh..." I bring my hand up to hold my head. Thinking is so hard. The bear steps up to pet the large dog. It's almost a comic scene, seeing the large bear reach up to the even larger dog so he can scratch between his ears. The rottweiler lets out another little bark as if he was indeed a feral dog and I can see his tail wagging behind him. He even lets his tongue hangs out to pant in happiness.

"Puppy, this is Kitty. He's your prize for catching that evil burglar that tried to sneak into our house last month. Isn't he great?" When the bear looks at me, I can't help but blush. I'm a prize? The dog, however, just leans his head to the side and lets out a little whine of confusion.

"Don't worry. I'm sure you'll enjoy having him around to help you out. But you're gonna share your toy with master, aren't you? Aren't you, my Puppy?" The ear-scratching took a happier tone and the dog lets out a new bark of excitement. They both look at me and I feel a sudden urge to cover my exposed privates with my hand, but somehow I think master might not like that, so I don't.

The bear then steps back and gives the large dog a small push. "Come on Puppy. Go meet Kitty properly. Just like I taught you with new people."

The dog, or Puppy, lets out a new happy bark and rushes towards me. It makes me flinch at first.

"Shh, Kitty. It's alright. Just stand still, let Puppy greet you."

All I can do is nod. "Y-yes, master." My voice is weak and pathetic even in my head. Since master asked, I do my best to stand still even as the dog approaches me and sniffs towards my face. Then, he walks around me and gets down on all fours behind me like a feral. I glance back at him as best as I can, but I can't help but act surprised when Puppy shoves his cold nose right between ass cheeks and starts sniffing my butt.

The bear, however, laughs at the scene. "Isn't he the cutest?"

I try to smile at master, but in truth, I'm actually deeply uncomfortable. The dog presses his muzzle harder between my cheeks so that his nose is brushing against what's in-between there. I get a sudden, reflexive memory flash. A lioness. Skinny, hot, slutty, tangled in bed with me. Then I feel her pinky coming to my asshole and I roar at her, growling and yelling at her that I'm no fag to be taking anything up my ass.

It makes me let out a small growl of its own. The memory comes as quickly as it goes and, just as before, I find myself unable to grasp it again. The bear, however, steps up to me.

"Bad Kitty!"

His words are like a knife searing through my heart. My eyes actually get wet hearing it.

"No growling! Both me and Puppy can do whatever we want with you. Is that understood?" The bear's tone is as stern as his eyes. I nod as quickly as I can, feeling a deep anxiety. A desperation to please him after doing something wrong. Puppy has stopped sniffing my butt but remains on all fours behind me, looking up.

"Good," the bear says, calming down. It relieves me that he might not be that mad at me. "Well then Puppy, now give him a greeting, too."

Puppy barks again and, much to my discomfort, he shoves his muzzle right back against my ass. This time, however, it's much, much worse. I can't help but gasp when I feel his nose pressing against my entrance again, and then his tongue coming to lick right at the most intimate spot I have.

I look at master and notice his stern, fixated gaze. Like he's studying every inch of me. So, even though it fills me with dread to fill the dog's tongue pressing into my tailhole, I hold back on my flinching.

The sensations are unlike anything I've ever felt before. I feel the dog grabbing my cheeks to spread them apart so that he can press his muzzle even harder against my ass to rim me. The tongue doesn't take long to break past my resistance and start teasing my insides with expert precision. He looks like he's done that before a few too many times.

Though the dog's tongue inside my ass couldn't feel more wrong to me, I feel those strange jolts of sensation translated straight to my sheath. My cock stirs inside it and the pink tip appears, which makes me even more aware than I'm standing there bare naked in the middle of the bear's living room with a dog rimming me.

As I endure it, the bear's expression slowly softens. I see a hint of a smile sprouting on his muzzle, which at least gives me a little bit of satisfaction. I start getting used to the sensation. It's... pleasing, even if it feels wrong, but then again everything feels wrong too. My cock starts hardening, slowly rising from my sheath, and then the bear snaps his finger.

"That's enough, Puppy. You can play with him later."

And just like that, the dog stops, gets up and rushes to his side, going as far as licking his lips.

The bear then leads us both around the house, showing me around. There are so many rooms that I feel like it's a little overwhelming, but that's mostly because I still feel confused about what I'm doing here. About who I am. I want to ask master questions, but I don't know how to approach it. Every now and then the bear comes close to touch me and even when it's just putting his arm over my shoulder or idly putting a hand at the back of my neck, I feel myself melt. It feels weird when he touches me where my mane used to be. I still feel naked- or rather, even more naked, without it. Yet, it is the master's will and it's not right to question it.

Puppy follows us around the whole time. He sniffs at me sometimes and I can sense that he might not be all too happy with my presence, but he doesn't dare question master either.

After the house tour, the master takes me back down to the basement. I notice that Puppy stays at the door and looks anxious about not being able to follow the bear. Apparently, he's not allowed into the basement. Down here, I start to notice how much better it is to be free. I wish I could just roam around, at least on the basement, but master insists that I must be tied down to the bench, so I lie down and let him do it.

That's where I spend the rest of my day. Or at least I think it's the rest of the day. Time goes by slowly in the basement. The whole time, I try to think, but it's so hard. I find my thoughts always drifting back to master. Every time I hear a sound coming from upstairs I dare hope I'll get to see master again, but it doesn't happen and eventually, I fall asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days are really hard to describe. I know that at some point, master came back down there and said that I still needed to have weekly 'sessions'. I don't know what that means, but I know that an unknown amount of time has passed and thinking about it becomes hard again, just as it used to be. I remember floating, vague sounds, darkness and light, but not much else.

I'm back at the bench when master shows up again with a cup of coffee in his hand to release me. It marks my first day of 'freedom', he says, and he leads me upstairs again, which I'm very glad about. As always, Puppy is there, but this time he's busy doing dishes in the kitchen. I notice how silly the white apron looks on his colossal form, and so does the master apparently when he moves in to grope Puppy's exposed butt over the sink.

Apparently, I'm supposed to be helping Puppy with his chores through the day. Master says I'll be 'starting slow', but honestly? I'm just glad to be out of the basement. Master sits in the living room, reclining on his large chair to watch TV while I'm left to follow Puppy around as he moves around the rooms with his cleaning supplies as if he was some sort of naked, overly muscular housemaid.

I help as much as I can. Only because the master asked me to, but I have little to no experience cleaning. It soon becomes clear that Puppy doesn't talk. I try asking him questions about both him and the cleaning, but he never responds with more than a nod, a shake of the head or a feral-like bark. I'm pretty sure he can speak, so I'm not sure why he doesn't. Another question for my huge list of them.

By nightfall, the bear is awake from his nap he took in front of the TV and Puppy is almost done cleaning. All I can do is watch while the bear, wearing nothing but an open bathrobe, waltzes into the bathroom and shoves Puppy down against the wet floor he had just been scrubbing. He rubs the rottweiler's face against the wet floor and, at first, I don't understand what's happening, but when I see that the bear is on his knees behind the all-fours dog and that his open robe is failing to hide his erection, my eyes go wide.

The bear notices that. "Don't worry, Kitty. You'll get your turn eventually, too!"

I don't know how I feel about that. Wait, does he mean I'll get a turn on top of Puppy or that I will be...?

My heart starts beating faster, but I just stand there, on my knees and clutching the sponge in my hand so hard that all the water drips down from it. Puppy looks... happy. Despite having his soapy muzzle pressed against the ground, he smiles and pants while the bear uses the water from his own bucket to 'lube' him up and then shoves his dick straight into the dog's ass.

The fucking is rough and quick. They look like they've done it before. Worse yet, I can see Puppy's own cock coming out of his sheath, only to be stopped soon after that by the unyielding steel cage he always wears over his sheath. His cock strains so hard against it that I swear it might break the cage, but no such things happen. No, there's only the wet sounds of the bear fucking him sprinkled by the master's moans of pleasure.

It isn't long before the bear leans over the dog, shoves himself deep and moans louder. I know what's happening and a small part of me feels sick. This is... fag stuff! And yet, the other bigger part of me just likes seeing how wide the smile on master's face is. When the bear pulls back, cum drips down from Puppy's spread ass right there on the floor. The bear stands up and doesn't bother closing up his robe. His cock hands there, half-hard and wet with its own cum. I can't help but flinch away from it slightly when the bear approaches me. I can tell that he notices it, but he just smiles.

Master gives my headfur a bit of a ruffle, then points at the pool of cum behind the panting dog. "Clean that up, huh? Don't want to see it staining my floor."

The bear lets go of me and walks towards the door, but I can see that he lingers to watch if I'm really going to do it. Of course, I obey his orders, no matter how upsetting it is to get close to Puppy's used ass and leaking cage, or how weird it is to mop up cum with my sponge. I see the bear grabbing his phone to take a picture of me doing it, which somehow embarrasses me further, but far from me to question what master wants to do.

Though my day was blessed with freedom, by night the bear takes me back to the bench on the basement. "You can't be completely trusted yet, Kitty, but soon," the bear says right before kissing my forehead when I'm completely tied up to the bench again. As always, I don't know what that means, but the kiss fills me with happiness.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

The following weeks are a repeat of my first day, albeit with some key differences. Every day I'm left to help Puppy with chores and it being a big house, there's always something to do. By the third day, it must have been Monday, because the master leaves the house early in the morning right after letting me out of the bench and I'm left alone with Puppy. I feel knots in my stomach from the sheer thought of having master so far away, but I have to power through it.

When the bear is away, I can feel my mind wandering more. My questions towards Puppy start changing. Who is he? Why is he there? Why can't he speak? Who is the bear? Who am I? Puppy doesn't answer any of my questions and some of them seem to, in fact, upset him. Enough to make him growl at me.

At night, the bear always comes back, and when it gets late enough I have to go back to the basement. I remember the first days of freedom, but then by what I judge to be the end of the week, there's a blank in my memory again that doesn't get filled up until well into the weekend. That confuses and scares me even further.

The other thing that continues to scare me is the relationship between master and Puppy. By the third week, I must have watched them fuck in every single room of the house. Sometimes it's with Puppy bent over furniture, sometimes it's Puppy sucking him off from under a table or desk. Every time it happens, however, the dog's dick gets hard as a rock into his cage, but the cage never comes off. Several times I've seen the bear tease the dog's cock, massage his balls, stroke at his sheath, all through the cage. I can see the frustration and need in Puppy's eyes when he does that, but it never gets taken off. And the dog never complains. It makes me look down at my own sheath, free and hanging, and raises even more questions inside my head.

It's by the third week that I can't help myself. I go to the bathroom while Puppy is cleaning and I jerk off. I remember I used to do it every day, sometimes twice a day, but when was that? As I beat my meat, I try to think about a lioness. About a curvy, feminine body like I feel I should be thinking of, but those memories are also fleeting and elusive. When have I ever seen one of those? I can't quite grasp it.

Continuing to stroke my dick, hard as rock and pent up in my hand... my brain automatically goes to the last erotic memory I can find. I close my eyes thinking about it but also frown. The bear and Puppy are kissing over the living room couch. Puppy is lying on his back over it and, kneeling right by their side since I had been massaging the bear's feet with the dog seconds before, I can see everything so clearly. How the bear grinds his rock hard cock against Puppy's caged, straining one while they kiss. Then, how master shifts back, how Puppy's ass spreads to allow the bear's not so long, but rather thick dick into him. It looks so easy. And the way Puppy moans...

"Hnnnnnghh..." Before long, my load splatters against the sink. As I stand there, holding my half-hard, spent cock, some level of after-sex lucidity washes over me. What am I doing? This isn't me. I would never do those things. I would beat up people who did those things. Who am I?

It isn't long until Puppy comes knocking on the bathroom door and I'm forced to leave my thoughts away. I'm sure something is wrong, though. Things aren't as they should be. I'm sure of that, or at least I am until the bear comes back home. Then everything becomes about making sure he's happy and proud of me. Of both of us.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

By the fifth week, I notice the blank days are gone. I'm not getting them anymore, which is good. It makes things... steadier. There's still a lot I can't quite understand or grasp here and there. Whenever master has guests or someone comes by to visit, I have to stay locked down in the basement while even Puppy gets to stay upstairs with them. I don't get that. But it comforts me that at least I can remember everything that happens instead of waking up wet, disoriented and with a severe case of memory loss every now and then.

It is by then, however, also the first time that the bear looks at me and calls me while I'm standing there, watching him fuck Puppy. The rottweiler had been bench-pressing in the house gym and I'm supposed to help him by changing his weights or counting his reps. Then, the bear barges in as he always does and had the dog continues to lift the impressive amount of weight he had been lifting while the bear simply uses his hands to feel up the dog's muscles.

I can see how Puppy's arms tremble. Thankfully for him, the bear does let him put the weights down before he lifts the dog's legs to expose his tailhole and lines himself up. I watched the fuck happen with the same mix of dread and fascination I always have, and then the bear motioned me to come closer.

"I think you're-" the bear huffs. "Almost ready to start... getting into your new... duties." He doesn't even stop thrusting into Puppy's ass. I have no idea what it means. The bear points at the dog's perfect chest and abdomen. "Sit over his chest."

All I can do is obey. I straddle over the dog and sit over his chest facing the bear. The fucking still hasn't stopped.

"Good Kitty."

My heart skips a beat from joy alone.

"Now, lean forward and lick his dick. Through the cage, get your tongue in there!"

The joy is mostly gone. I hear Puppy letting out a little yelp of surprise, too. I haven't felt like this ever since master had me shave my own mane. An order I really, really don't want to do. Licking another dude's dick? Looking down at Puppy's massive sheath, his dark red cock strains as hard as it always does against the chastity device. It drips, too. The whole thing looks wet with his precum and absolutely disgusting. I hesitate.

The bear notices that. He slows down his fucking and grumbles, frowning. "Maybe you need a few more sessions..."

I don't know what that means, but the disappointment I can hear in his voice makes my heart wrench inside my chest. It steels my resolve. I must please master. I quickly lean in putting a hand over the dog's hard abs for support and get my muzzle close to his dick. It squeezes so hard against the cage. That looks almost painful. But, desperate to undo my mistake, I force my tongue out of my muzzle and let it glide over the cage.

The salty taste makes me flinch. I'm licking another man's precum. With my tongue. From his dick. I feel dread, but I force myself to lick again. Then again. I glance up at the bear just in time to see him smile wide. He has stopped his fucking altogether to watch me, but his cock is still sunk deep into the dog beneath us.

"That's a good Kitty! You're a good Kitty! Shove your tongue in there! Make him feel it!"

The praise makes me smile even through the awful taste in my mouth. I feel spurred to please him more, so I do as he tells me and press my tongue in between the little steel bars that make the chastity cage so that it can reach his flesh. The taste of his dick is even saltier and he lets out more precum as I lick, but I find myself minding it less and less. My entire focus is on the bear and his happiness. Behind him, I can hear Puppy's groans and I can't tell if they are of pleasure or frustration, but I guess that's his problem.

Soon, the bear is back to fucking him with renewed vigor. I continue to lick his dick through the chastity cage the whole time and I can sense master watching me closely. He cums even faster than usual and it's only when he's thoroughly done that I have permission to stop.

Even after the bear is gone, I can see Puppy has trouble focusing on continuing his exercises. His cock remains hard and straining against his cage for a long time after the event.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately for me, that turns out to be the first time of many. When the night falls, the bear has me in his room. Usually, I'm outside when he calls Puppy in and though I have no doubt about what they're doing, I am glad to stay in the kitchen working on dinner. This time, however, master demands I get behind them to lick his balls while he fucks Puppy, since apparently he read somewhere that that feels great.

I find the experience of licking another man's balls just as daunting and distressing. It helps that it's the master's nuts that I'm working on so that I can hear his gratification right away when I drag my tongue through the back of his sack and near his taint, but I still feel awful the whole time.

It gets even harder when he starts fucking. Not only because it's hard to keep those swinging nuts from just downright hitting me in the nose while the bear thrusts, but also because I can see Puppy's larger sack right beneath the bear's. I can watch from an inch away how the bear's cock spears into the dog's tailhole, spreading it open and sinking in deep over and over again.

All I can do is try to look away and stick to my duties. I lick the master's balls as best as I can. When the bear cums I flinch away. I'm sure I got a droplet of it in my tongue as it dripped down Puppy's ass and that just disgusts me as a whole. Thankfully, master seems to be too busy in the afterglow of his orgasm to notice. When he's done, he keeps his cock deep into Puppy as he always does, then he lays by the large rottweiler's side and hugs him. Puppy looks happier than ever even if there's no mention of him getting off. His cock is just throbbing there against his cage as always. Then, unexpectedly, master signals me to come close to him as well. I reluctantly lie by his side and he puts an arm over me, too, pulling me close.

"My Puppy and my Kitty. My pride and joy!" Puppy lets out a happy bark in response, but I choose to stay silent. I can still taste that cum in my tongue. It's distressing.

"What's wrong, Kitty? You feelin' jealous of all the attention Puppy is getting?" Master pulls me so close that I have to lay my head on his shoulder. Then, his arm over me starts trailing lower through my skinny back. "Don't worry. I've had my twinky moods, but you're just not quite done yet. Very soon you'll be ready to get a whole lot of attention as well. We'll start working on your album. You're turning out to be a very good Kitty."

I don't know for sure what that means, but I feel master's hand continue to go lower until he has a grip on my butt, which he gropes and caresses. The touch feels very... invasive. The fact that he called me a good Kitty helps me ignore those feelings to instead focus on the joy I feel over it, though. If it makes master happy, then I'm happy, whatever it is.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

This happens every night. Whereas I used to be able to just watch or excuse myself when master brought Puppy in for what would obviously be some very rough and gay type of sex, now master wants me there for every session. Sometimes he gets so into playing with Puppy that he almost forgets about me even if he still wants me to watch, but most of the time he finds ways to include me even if just on the outlines. More and more often that means getting involved. Last night, for example, master made me jerk myself off while I watched.

It was extremely awkward for me to stand there by the bedside with my hand on my penis, stroking myself, all while watching two dudes fuck. Even if one of them was master, who is handsome in every conceivable way, it still brought those undesirable thoughts from the back of my mind. If master hadn't been complimenting me, my dick and my body every now and then I'm not sure I could've pulled it off, but each time master says nice things about me, I can't help it. I just melt. Even my dick throbs in appreciation.

By the time the bear had sunk the whole of his dick into Puppy and cummed, I hadn't yet. I'm not sure I was going to if he hadn't made Puppy lean in and lick the tip of my dick while ordering me to jerk off faster and faster. When I did cum, I sprayed my load over the rottweiler's lapping muzzle, but Puppy took it all in with an expression of joy under master's compliments. Still, even while he smiled and wagged his tail, I could see the way his eyebrows frowned. I could read frustration and maybe... jealousy all over his face. It could only be over the fact that I was there jerking off and cumming all over his face while his cock continued to strain hard against its perpetual cage.

After the sex, the bear, as always, still got up to lead me back to the dungeon so that he could strap me into the bench. I obeyed, of course, but sleep took a while to overcome me last night. I just couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened. Eventually, however, I did drift off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------//-------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning is the same routine. A lot of walking upstairs before the bear comes down to let me go, but he looks like he's in a hurry. He simply unties me, turns away and leaves without a word. I follow him upstairs, of course, but only in time to see him rushing out of the door looking handsome in a suit and carrying a briefcase. Puppy runs with him all the way to the door. The dog gets a few pets before the bear leaves, which strikes a weird pang of jealousy from me, and then the bear is gone. Alone with Puppy again, the large rottweiler just glances at me before going back to the kitchen to clean up the mess of the bear's breakfast.

I'm supposed to help. Maybe. The bear didn't order me to today. I realize that I really dislike doing dishes, cleaning and all that crap. A faint memory of a messy apartment confirms my feelings about that, but as always, I can't grasp it. It frustrates me. Slowly, I make my way to the living room couch and sit down. By now, I've grown used to the feeling of my bare butt against the expensive yet cold leather of this couch given that I haven't worn clothes in... ...In how long? When did I ever wear clothes before, anyway?

I can't answer that. I can't answer anything. It's killing me. As I sit here, I find myself staring at the front door. It's right there. Sure, it's locked, but I am staring at the inside lock. I could just turn it, open the door and leave. I always could, now that I think about it, why had I never considered that before?

Where would I even go? I have somewhere I could go, don't I? I feel like I do. I can't remember if I try to, but hints of familiar streets and turns I could make pop into my mind and I just know they're there. I could go. But that would mean... Being away from the master. Or, rather, the bear. The thought of it makes me frown without even wanting to. I feel my heart tightening, but the tightening alone feels wrong. Something is very wrong. And it is because of the bear. It's only when I'm away from him that I can really think. I know that when I see him again, I'll go back to being...

Slowly, I stand up. I take slow steps towards the door with my eyes fixated on it. Each step fills me with anxiety as if I'm about to do something very, very wrong. Yet, I feel like I know this feeling. Like I felt it before and mastered it. I can do this. I see that my hand is trembling by the time I reach the door and touch the lock. With a click, I undo it. The way is open. All I have to do is leave...

The sudden bark coming from behind startles the hell out of me. I turn around in a flash to see Puppy standing there across the living room, staring at him. He lets out another bark, this one more inquisitive, and his ears are folded back.

"What?" I ask, knowing what his answer will be. I frown. "Why don't you speak? Why? Because the bear says you're not supposed to?"

I couldn't figure it out before, but now it seems obvious. That must be the reason and suddenly, it feels a little... petty? Cruel, even. But how? How does he do this? The rottweiler is a wall of muscles that could break the bear in two if he wanted to. But maybe... maybe he hasn't always been.

Puppy's situation starts intriguing me. What if he's... I take a few steps towards him.

"For how long have you been with master?" I ask out loud. It's easier to voice my thoughts with my mind swirling as it is. Puppy's head leans to the side. My frown deepens. "Why do you act like a doggie for him? I know you can speak!"

The large dog actually takes a step back from me. His ears fold back further and he lets out a little whine. He sure is whimpy for someone his size. My eyes then trail down to the steel cage sitting between his legs right over his sheath.

"Why do you wear that? You must want it out. With everything he does to you! Don't you want to be..." I glance back at the door before saying the word. "...free?"

My hand trails down to my own sheath, unrestrained and unbothered by any contraptions. I'm not sure why he wears one and I don't, but who can understand the master? Or, rather, the bear? It looks like it works, though, because the dog's eyes follow my hand to my sheath, then his hand touches his. Or, rather, mostly his cage. He lets out another whine and I can see the doubt in his eyes.

"Well, you could be! Where does he keep the key of your cage?"

I can feel my resolve growing stronger. I can still feel his influence, but it's wrong. I just know it. I don't know what he did or how he did, but the adrenaline pumps through my blood as if I'm still doing things I shouldn't be, but for the first time in weeks, it feels right. Puppy, on the other hand, looks almost scared of my actions and questions. He doesn't answer me, of course, but I catch the way his eyes glance at the large cabinet against the sidewall of the room. I don't need anything else.

I turn towards it. This time, it feels easier to open the drawers one by one and rummage through the bear's things. Puppy whines again from behind me, but I ignore it. On the third drawer, I spot it. A tiny, shiny silver key that looks like it fits the lock I've seen too many times beneath the dog's balls. When I pick it up and show it to him, the way he whimpers and looks away from it is enough confirmation that this is the right key.

"I don't know what he's done to us, but I'm ending it. I'm not going to live here being his bitch, doing his chores and bending over for his..." Also for the first time in weeks, I feel a growl growing at the back of my throat. The sheer thoughts of all the gay, faggy stuff he made me do...

I step over to the large dog. When I get close, he takes a fearful step back. I don't really care about him, to be honest, but all the things I've seen the bear do to him... I feel like I can at least grant him this much mercy. I take another step forward and before he can retreat away, I grab at his balls. A disgusted expression does come over my face over touching another man's nuts. Yeah, that is what is very wrong. Still, it takes but seconds for me to pull the lock up, press the key in and turn it. Then, I pull his chastity cage off his junk and throw it aside.

The whimper he lets out is as if I have taken his very balls from him. Seeing the large muscular dog as nervous as a scared puppy like that is almost kind of funny. I don't know how messed up he's gotten, but it must've been pretty deep. I'm not sure if he was some kind of fag before the bear caught him or if he was someone normal like me, but judging by the way he stares at the cage on the ground and brings his hand up to feel his free sheath, I'm gonna bet that he was normal. Who knows? Who cares?

"I'm leaving," I announce. "You can leave too or stay. Either way, enjoy your free junk."

I'm still trembling, but now I'm acting tough. When I turn towards the door again, that feeling of extreme wrongness, as if I'm doing something that is more than forbidden, washes over me again, but this time I'm confident I can overcome it.

I'm halfway towards the door when I hear Puppy's whiny barks, but I ignore them. I already did more for him than I had to. I need to leave.

When I reach for the front door's handle, the sound of heavy steps behind me makes my feline ears twitch. I barely have time to glance back before I feel the mass of muscles that is the rottweiler tackling me against the door, then down to the ground.

"Argh! What the-"

For the first time, I hear Puppy growling. A deep, guttural growl worthy of his size. I glance back to see him showing his teeth at me. I'm down on my chest and when I try to get up and push him away, he doesn't budge an inch. His hand comes to the back of my maneless neck to push me down against the ground and he barks again.

"What are you doing?!" I struggle. I struggle as much as I can, but he's just too much. I can see that he's not having that hard of a time holding me down against the ground and the weight of his body over mine is enough so that within minutes I'm just an exhausted, panting mess and I still haven't gotten anywhere. Puppy still growls above me looking resolute in keeping me down.

"Cannot... leave...!"

I am so shocked that my struggling even ceases for a moment. The dog's speech is ragged and comes amidst his growling, but he did speak. I knew he could! All the more reason, however, for me to get away from his stupidity in obeying the bear's will blindly. My struggling restarts with even more vehemence, but the damn dog is a freaking behemoth.

And that's not the worst of it. Naked as both of us are, I can feel that my struggling has me grinding against his large sheath. It has the wrong effect on him. When I feel his cock growing against my backside, I start to grow nervous for different reasons. I've never had a dude's dick so close to my ass. I don't want to be anywhere near that thing.

And yet, it keeps growing. It grows and grows and when I feel it against my tail and lower back I can't help but make an effort to at least glance back.

It's huge.

The angry, dark red, tapered canine cock is filled with veins. I've seen the bear's cock a few too many times and while I thought his dick was above average, I can see now that Puppy is... something else entirely. The irony that that gargantuan dick had been kept locked away to never grow for who knows how long doesn't escape my thoughts, but given my current situation, I don't find it amusing at all.

"Let me go! You asshole! Go suck the bear's dick! What are you doing?!" Yelling at him more does nothing. He continues to growl, but I can feel that he is grinding his hips against my backside now. I feel the fur around my ass getting wet from what must be his precum. Disgusting! My urge to get away from him grows stronger, but my arms are already hurting from all the effort and I'm nowhere closer to getting away than I was at the beginning.

Then I feel the large dog above me shifting. He's still growling, but he slides down, shifts his hips, then I feel his large cock prying in-between my butt cheeks. My panic grows.

"What're- NO! No, you can't-!"

With my muzzle still open to complain, I suddenly feel my throat empty of words so that I can let out a gasp. The dog found his entrance and I can feel the tip of his cock spreading me open, pushing his wet tip into my ass.

I can't remember how my life was before all this, but there's one single thing I'm sure of: I've never been fucked before.

"NO!" I yell at the top of my lungs. The dog above me growls and puts his large paw down against my shoulder, keeping me hard-pressed against the ground. Then, he shoves his hips forward and I let out another breathless gasp when I feel a few more inches of his cock sinking into me. The feeling is completely alien. The dog's oversized cock forces my ass to spread further so he can drive another inch into me, then another, and all I can do is feel the little bursts of pain that come with it. But there's something else there too. Something I can't quite describe, but that makes the pain different. Maybe it's not quite just pain, I don't know.

It's a long process. Me squirming and desperate to get out, the dog alternating between holding me down and shoving more of his cock into me. After a few times with him going deeper and deeper, I'm not sure how much more I can handle. Then, he pulls back and shoves himself back in such a rough manner that I have to grit my teeth, but yet still an undignified mewl gets through them out to the open air.

He starts fucking me. I had thought that his cock had sunk deep into me the first time, but it doesn't take long for me to find out I was very, very wrong. His huge fuck tool is much longer than my inexperienced ass thought possible. With tenacity, the horny dog above me manages to wedge more and more inches of dog cock into me until I feel as if I could feel that tapered tip right on my stomach, then he still shoves it deeper still.

My eyes are wet. It's beyond my control. Yet, still, what's perhaps the worst part of it all is that for some weird reason, my own cock has grown hard at some point. I only notice it when the rottweiler's hips shove me down with such strength that I feel my meat hard-pressed between the cold floor and the fur of my flat stomach, but when he pulls back, I can feel my dick throb. There's even precum! I don't know why, but every time the dog shoves his monstrosity of a cock deep into me, there's something deep in there that, alongside the overwhelming plethora of feelings that overload me, makes my own dick jump beneath me.

The dog's fucking grows faster and faster. His growling turns into moans that sound less feral and more normal. Yet, his cock drilling into my ass is too overwhelming for me to try to make sense of that. When I least expect it, Puppy's muzzle clumps down at the back of my bare neck and shoulder, his sharp teeth threatening to break my skin and then, in a reflex I didn't know I had, I grow limp. I let him fuck me, but the shame and humiliation of the act doesn't escape my somewhat lucid brain. I feel like his bitch. His bitch that he intends to fuck hard until he cums and...

My eyes grow wide. Don't canines have...

"AAAARRGHH!" This time, I can't help but scream. I hadn't thought about what was the mass that had been smacking my ass every time the dog shoved his cock impossibly deep into me, but my ass that had already been spread hard to take in his huge size suddenly feels as if it is ripped open twice as much. I feel the larger bulb of flesh that must be the dog's knot roughly shoved into me, then my ass closes back down against the base with it inside for some level of relief after the small burst of pain. Yet, what lingers is the feeling of the rottweiler's immense cock wedged deeper into me than ever with the very uncomfortable, enormous bulb of flesh in there as well.

Puppy gives me no mercy. He continues to thrust with his knot inside me. They are shallow and small, but enough for me to feel his cock press against every inch of my insides. From that point onward, it's only a matter of seconds until I can feel the rumble of Puppy's deep moan against the back of my neck over the hold of his teeth.

He pretty much howls, then I feel a flood of warmth erupt within me that makes my face grow bright red. He's cumming inside me. That seed that he's held for so long is pumped into my ass and I can feel every twitch, every throb of his cock. His knot grows even larger and I realize it has probably locked us together while at the same time not letting a single drop of that enormous amount of cum drip out. All to make sure his bitch takes it all. And his bitch is me.

Through the whole thing, I feel like I'm in a haze of my own. It feels like it should hurt like hell. It kinda does, but there's something else there, too. An overwhelming feeling that overtakes my whole body, making my arms and legs weak and my heart race. I can't feel anything other than his large cock spearing me open, throbbing, moving inside me, but it's a feeling unlike anything I've ever felt before.

By the time he's done, my own cock is pulsing beneath me. Puppy takes a few seconds after his orgasm to just pant as well, then very slowly he parts his jaws, releasing my neck. I hear a whine coming from above, then I feel a strong tug coming from his cock trying to pull back from me that makes me wince and grunt out loud. Yeah, it's definitely not coming out from my ass. The thought makes me feel even more humiliated.

I have no idea what's going through Puppy's head, but I feel him pulling at me to get up on all fours above me. With his cock locked inside my ass, I have no choice but to keep grunting and quickly get myself on all fours beneath him as best as I can just so that I can keep my ass hard-pressed against his sheath in order to keep his savage knot from spreading me open even more. My previously virgin ass feels very sore after taking him.

Still, when I lift myself up from the ground in a hurry, I notice a puddle of cum on the ground and on my stomach. My eyes grow wide. ...I came from being fucked at some point, but it was so intense I didn't even notice.

I don't have time to ponder if that makes me some kind of fag as well. Puppy growls down at me and envelops my chest with one of his muscular arms, then he starts standing up and pulling me with him. I gasp.

"No! No no no! I'm still-!" There's no time to say anything. I'm sure he knows. He lifts me up against his chest with his cock and knot still locked into me and I swear, I can feel every inch his hips move inside my guts. All I can do is groan, yet much to my shame, my spent cock stays hard and pointing out from my crotch. I don't know what he wants and, when I glance back and see his panicking expression, I start to think he doesn't know what to do either. Yet, I'm glad he only takes a few steps carrying me on his knot like that. Then, he leans in against the side of the couch and deposits me there with my chest against the couch and my ass still lifted over its side, stuck to him.

"F-fuuuuck... You fuckin-..."

I can't curse. I can't even begin to yell at him for what he's done, because when he has me lying there with my ass exposed to him, I feel his cock shifting inside me. I feel his hips thrust in once, then again, and when I look back in a hurry I see an expression of pleasure in his face.

"Wh- NO!"

He's faster than me. He pushes me down against the couch and his thrusts slowly start getting faster again, knotted to me or not. I do try to squirm to get away from under him again, but he holds me against him tight. With his knot stuck to me, I wouldn't be able to get away anyway, but my panicking self says I need to try. How long do dog knots last? Certainly longer if he intends to cum into me again...

The more I panic, the harder it is to think again. As I grow fearful, there's only one place my thoughts direct me to. The one and only safe place in this world. The one place I can be the happiest without an ounce of doubt.

By master's side.

As the large dog's hips speed up and he starts huffing above me with pleasure again, I let out a desperate mewl. My thoughts regress to wanting to be held by master. Surely he can make everything okay again, I have no doubts about it. While the huge dog fucks me for the second time, even if my own cock throbs under me in a forced manner, I glance back at the door now hoping with all of my strength that it will open so that I can see master, as awful as it is, walking in.