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Pavlor awoke to the sounds of the handlers entering the room. They were waking up the other abducted pets, bringing them away for more 'training', if that's what you could call it. They all seemed to be less rebellious than they day before, though a few were still not happy about the current situations. No one protested, even if their body-languages dictated that they were less than thrilled to be in such a position without their proper owners.

Xeneth, the orca from the other day who had Pavlor's anal muscles stretched yesterday, was standing at the door to his cell. He had his usual smug look on his face, but it seemed to be tempered with appraisal as he watched the canine and bull stirring from their sleep.

Pavlor's new companion had taken to sleeping on the floor after he had done so well to please and had soothed the canine after the machine's stretching. The bull had slipped off quietly, pulling himself from Pavlor's tail and easing to the floor to curl up and sleep.

The door creaked open slowly, the orca taking his time and stepping carefully. The move was not cautious or scared, but deliberate and forceful in his slow speed. As he walked in, he unzipped his rubbery pants so he could reveal his cetacean shaft from inside. He had been rubbing himself as he contemplated Pavlor, and because the orca considered the canine his property, he was going to use him at any time and in any way. His dick was rather impressive still, as Pavlor had seen many an orcan cock, and this was by far an impressive size.

"That's it puppy. Come here, Master needs some tail."

The torturer stood behind Xeneth. He was an expert with the whip that was used so many times on the bull. He stepped in as well, turning on a switch in the hilt of the whip and making the leathery chain glow. This got the bulls attention better than anything else Pavlor had seen, and the bull moved to lay prostrate on the ground with his back exposed.

There was no denying the fact that if Pavlor made any moves against Xeneth, the bull would be punished. For that reason alone, Pavlor didn't move at all as the bigger orca mounted up and pressed himself down upon the canine's back. The strength inside the killer whale's body wasn't something that could be ignored. It felt like there was steel and bone beneath the rubber-clad monster. The somewhat prehensile tip moved and poked between Pavlor's cheeks with an insistency that lacked any affection.

"Ask Master for his cock, pet. Ask nice and good, and your friend will be spared the lash."

As before, the torturer was readying his strike before Pavlor could think much upon it. The words, though somewhat false in tone, slipped reluctantly from his muzzle, "Master, please fuck me."

The hard bite of Xeneth's beak gripped Pavlor's neck. It was rough, domineering, and thankfully brief. "You can do better than that."

Again the whip was readied, prepared to fly, and again the words, more choked than before, found themselves forced from the canine's muzzle. "Master, fuck me please. Make me feel your dick inside me. I... want to feel you. I need you making me your bitch Master. Please... please fuck me Sir."

If Pavlor believed his performance bad, it wasn't caught by anyone else in the room. He had tried his best to make them sound as sincere as he could, and the whip did not fly through the air. Instead, a sharp, spearing pain came to the canine's tailhole; the orca's penis pushing against him and then inside him forcefully. There was very little in the way of lubricant besides Xeneth's own slimy slit-musk to help ease the passage.

A strong, burning pain came and stung at his tail. He was sure there was a friction burn from that single, embedding thrust. With his hands gripping the lumpy pillow, Pavlor bit into it to squelch his cry. The orca seemed to not even notice this, because he had begun to use Pavlor like some sex doll. With arms pinning the canine down, Xeneth leaned back to slam-fuck his cock into the tender hole. Were it not for the machine of yesterday that helped stretch him out, the canine would surely be bleeding dangerously from this.

"You're going to be mine, all mine, slave. Make me a mint, such a class 'A' grade of fuckmeat." Xeneth lifted his head slightly. He churred in bliss as his hips worked his cock quickly into the tail. The sound of the muffled screams and yelps doing nothing to deter his actions, in truth they were making him all the more excited. "Cry slave. That's it, cry like... like a little... baby..."

The strokes and slams into Pavlor's tail were getting swiftly rougher. With a thankful squealing from the orca raping him, a flood of cetacean semen spilled into Pavlor's tail. The flow was gushing into his body, making him feel warm and it stung where the rough treatment had abraded his inner body. As quickly as it started, the orca pulled himself out of Pavlor's anus and stood up. He wiped himself off on the sheets, leaving smears of cum and traces of pink blood. There was no affection as Xeneth snapped his fingers, "Up boy. We have some paying guests dying to have some time with some canine entertainment."

Pavlor pushed himself up from the bed slowly. He tasted the musk from the pillow on his lips and found it much to his dislike. He stood slowly, his legs shaking as watery cum was spilling down his inner legs. The bull was there, helping him up and supporting him as needed. They walked quickly out the door, led by Xeneth and followed by the torturer, down the corridors and into an elevator.

The small room was not what Pavlor had imagined. For he was expecting was it to be bland and drab, like the walls and rooms in the rest of this complex, but the elevator was far from it. The floor was covered in a fine linen rug, blue and black with an intricate curled pattern. The edges had a thick black border that edged against the polished silver of the walls. A handrail was around three sides, made of a brushed metal. Buttons adorned a panel next to the doors, but none had any symbols or numbers on them. The ceiling was filled with small pinpoints of light, resembling the night sky with a few wisps of clouds. As Xeneth pushed the button second from the bottom and the doors closed shut. The elevator ascended. Pavlor's ears could hear nothing but the sound of the elevator tracks as it moved. Upwards they went until the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors slid open to reveal a plush and well decorated waiting room.

There was a glass door leading outside, the sunlight was beaming in with what looked like the morning sun. It was overly bright outside because white glistening snow was covering the small amount of ground that could be seen. There was a large reception desk with an orca sitting at it (looking attentive if not somewhat bored) and flanked by two guards with pistol-like weapons on their hips. The waiting area had soft couches, plants, a water cooler and several magazines in a cozy, comfortable setting. Two orca's were there, dressed in fine suits and thumbing through papers and a clipboard, filling out items. A glass wall was between the waiting area and the elevators Pavlor and his entourage had stepped out of. There was a long hall stretching to the right that could not be seen from the waiting area. Marble floors added to the facade of this hellhole, but Pavlor assumed that those patronizing this building might not really be overly concerned about the darker areas down below.

A guard came over, stopping the canine and bull as Xeneth stepped between the glass partitions to welcoming hellos from the orca's waiting.

"Gerard and Dennis, a pleasure it is. I was told you would be visiting us today," Xeneth was so congenial it made Pavlor sick.

"Xeneth! The pleasure is all ours. I must admit, I didn't think we'd be meeting you here personally," Dennis said.

"Well, I meet all our new clients. I have a few things to attend to with a batch of newly acquired goods, but if you wish, I can give you a personal tour and show you what we have to offer by means of our conditioned slaves."

"Yes, we'd be honored," the orca Gerard interjected. The sound of his voice prickled at the canine's ears. No one from the other side of the partition seemed to notice them standing there, and lucky for that, since the tell-tale signs of recognition, albeit vague, had flashed across Pavlor's face. The partition must be a one-way mirror, preventing those from outside seeing in.

"Good, I'll be back shortly when I'm done setting my new primary slave to his training."

"Oh? Might I ask, what training," inquired Gerard.

"Well, there is a specialized machine we had built, helps to stretch and make a tailhole accommodating to anything inserted with little issue, as well as to train a slave on the more proper use of its body by extracting semen and conditioning them to produce more beyond the 'normal' means used when they are first acquired. When I am done, I am throwing a small party for a few guards and guests, would you like to come? There'll be food and plenty of slave entertainment. I know it's a long trek up here."

"We'd love to!"

"Good, then I shall return once you have your paperwork filled out." Xeneth gave a small bow and slipped between the partitions. The guard moved back out, and they proceeded down the hall to a room near the end on the left.

Gulping, Pavlor fallowed Xeneth into the room, where a large metal enclosure stood. It was easily twice as tall as Pavlor with a width to match four times its height. A padded table with cuffs extended from an open door, but it was too dark inside to see anything. A consol with an empty chair was against one side, a keypad and monitor showing a blinking cursor and a menu.

Xeneth pointed at the table, commanding Pavlor lay upon it.

Pavlor was so confused and scared, his feet didn't move right away, causing the bull's back to sear with the lash from the whip. Pavlor jumped a little, watching the whip move for a second stroke, moving to the table and laying down as the bull cried out once more.

Once on the table, the bull was spared the whip, but Pavlor was quite apprehensive about this machine. Xeneth walked to him, grabbing his arms and legs and placing gauntlet-like gloves on him, the insides of the fingers were wrapped around a firm rubber grip. They locked in and went halfway to his elbow, giving him the appearance of leathery fist-paws. His feet were lifted and ankle bracers with heel straps were placed on them, tight and form-fitting to his pads. Xeneth went over to the machine and pressed a few buttons, making the machine hum and vibrate. The orca turned and waved at Pavlor in his usual sardonic glare, "See you in a few hours," he said as arms came out and grappled Pavlor's covered arms.

The machine was designed, it seemed, to use the gauntlets and bracers, gripping tight and forcing his arms up over his head. LED lights flashed inside in gentle colored patterns. The table slid in with a metallic grinding sound, and the door closed into almost total darkness.

His legs were grabbed and pulled taught, spread and making him feel exposed in the darkness of the machine. The blinking colored lights got a little brighter, and the internal arms and probes of the machine came almost into full light.

Earphones that were well designed for canine ears were brought down and placed over his ears. The soft hissing of static inside was followed by an electronic click and soft tones. Gentle beeps were ringing in his ears, and the board of lights pushed down just a foot from his muzzle. The colors blinked and twitched before his eyes, and he closed them to try and shut them out.

A mechanical voice amongst the tones said, "Open your eyes." Pavlor, however, remained steadfast and kept them closed. He had a feeling that it was better this way despite the sleepy, easy feeling that was coming over him.

The mechanical voice came again, its tone shimmering in his ears, "Open your eyes," it said plainly as tones inclined his sense of hearing. He peeked open an eye, not quite sure why he did so. The flashing lights bore down on him, making sparks appear in his vision. His other eye slid open, though not quite all the way. He was squinting at the panel.

"Open your eyes," was again repeated, but this time something warm and wet prodded under his tail. It buzzed and hummed in a most peculiar and pleasant fashion. Warmth squirted against his anus and the probe pushed in slowly, tickling his muscles while the lights danced and the tones whispered to him.

His sheath was filling rapidly outwards, the canine cock hidden inside throbbing into the warm, sterile air. The sound of a loud, hungry moan filtered in through the earphones, causing Pavlor's chest and belly to twinge with electrical delight. The probe inside his anus quivered and twisted with a sharp turn, and he lifted his hips slightly as he copied the moan almost verbatim.

The lights flashed in more obscene patterns, shifting colors and almost making shapes through the points of lights. He was unaware of much until a sharp pain struck inside him, a needle piercing his prostate and injecting something warm and stinging. It didn't last long and as the warmth spread, he felt his heart rate increase to follow the pulsing beat now in his ears.

Warmth surrounded his penis; a gripping rubbery tightness sliding down and making him moan loudly. Were his eyes not so focused on the lights invading his mind, he would have closed them from such bliss.

"You are a slave," the voice told him matter-of-factly. "Produce semen now," the voice spoke again. The grip on his shaft stroked him quickly, forcing a short but sweet orgasm from his groin. He tensed and cried happily, feeling the cum spill in four easy shots from his length. It stopped, but his need and desire for more stimulation was not diminished.

"Slaves live for their Masters," the voice instructed, burning inside his mind. "Slaves produce on command. Slaves obey without question."

The stroking began again while the buzzing increasing inside his anus. He wanted to cum so bad again, his heart thumped hard in his chest. He waited, listened, knowing that the voice commanded his pleasure. His ears remained poised as he carefully listened to the tones and heavy thud of a beat.

"Produce semen now," the voice finally said, and the stroking hold gripped tight. He yowled out, feeling his body betray him, four pumps of canine ejaculate were milked from him, but still he was left wanting, needing.

Eternity passed slowly, Pavlor's every ounce of concentration split between the patterns in his eyes, the sounds and voice in his ears, and the sweet need for release that seemed to never truly grip him. Finally, after a time in which Pavlor could recount hundreds of iterations of, "Produce semen now," the machine pulled out of him and ceased its mind-bending stimulation. He was bleary eyed and felt dry, his muzzle having gone pasty and thick. The machine eased the colors away and the headphones were removed. The door opened up and he slid out into the cool air outside the machine. Xeneth was there, looking pleased, as was the bull and the torturer.

Pavlor's eyes fell upon him, and he felt a strong, pleasurable urge to kneel before this orca. When his legs and arms were released, he waited for no command or request to slip from the table and kneel down, kissing the booted feet of his abductor.

Without even a smile, the orca commanded, "Stand, we have guests to attend to. A party of special patrons requires your services slave. You will give them everything they wish."

The words trickled from his muzzle, "Yes Master." Pavlor stood and kept his eyes low, staring at the orca's boots. He followed him out the door, oblivious to the fact the bull was still in tow behind.

His life seemed to be less and less in coherent, except for one very, very odd thought. Prune juice seemed to be something his mind wouldn't let go. It was bright and shiny in his memory, that, and the voice from one of the orca's he had seen just before entering the room.

Pavlor's consciousness clung to this absurdity.