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The only sound in the darkened bedroom was soft, desperate panting and the occasional muffled, moaned-out curse. The naked man lay curled up on the overlarge bed, clutching his throbbing genitalia while grinding his flushed, sweaty cheek into the covers. He tugged at the limp shaft dangling from his hairless crotch, soft yet still aching with the burning arousal churning in his gut, and then moved his hand down to cup and squeeze the overfilled sack between his thighs. His balls roiled with the need to empty themselves as they pressed against both the wrinkled skin of the human's coin purse and the large, round thing that had been inserted into him; the source of that pulsing need shooting in hot sparks from his groin up and down his spine. That goddamned hormone-producing implant that Master had ordered be put into him, so that he could 'enjoy being a good boy'.

Jake gritted his teeth and took a deep, hissing breath through them as another surge of arousal rocked through him. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

Ever since that 'grooming appointment' the day before, Jake had felt off. Not bad in any way—the sensations curling like a living thing in his crotch had actually felt good, much to the human's chagrin—but different from when he'd woken up that morning. His groin felt more sensitive to the touch, the merest brush of skin on the shaft of his cock or the ballsack underneath sparking pleasure that made his hips press together as his knees weakened. Master had mostly left Jake to his own devices—only calling Jake for a heaping bowl of that damned 'kibble' at dinnertime—and so Jake had had to find ways of dealing with the strange feelings broiling within him on his own.

He'd tried to ignore them at first. When that hadn't worked, he'd tried to distract himself; either exploring around Master's house—though there were only so many times he could examine the plain white walls and ascetic furnishings—or curling up on the massive 'couch' to try and focus on the 'TV' panel hanging on the wall. But no matter what, his attention—and his wandering hands--had always returned to his needy crotch.

Slowly, little by little, the sensations became more intense. What had been a faint twinge in his groin quickly grew and spread to become a pulsing, throbbing, aching inferno that had made it hard to think about anything but quenching his arousal. And that was how Jake found himself curled up on Master's bed, groaning and whimpering and squirming as he tried desperately to tend to himself.

He rubbed and squeezed his balls. He pinched the base of his shaft, squeezed along it, and rubbed a fingertip over the sensitive tip. He tried to think of all the sexiest women he could—girls he'd had sex with in his high school and college days, and porn actresses that had never failed to get him going in his post-college slump—in all the hottest poses and scenarios his racing mind could think up. But even as his crotch roiled with heat, nothing could get him hard.

That was the most torturous thing about it; what had turned a faint annoyance into an all-consuming problem. The human scowled as the memory of the deer-man groomer flittered through his thoughts; he'd said that the human's penis may shrink from 'disuse' on the hormones, but Jake hadn't considered that they'd prevent him from getting hard at all. And yet, no matter what he did, he couldn't tease or squeeze or pump his soft cock to erection. Which, of course, meant that there was no way to ease the ache in his crotch; no way to jerk off to orgasm, and at least temper the blazing arousal he was feeling.

Jake's hand slipped, and his finger brushed across the sweaty flesh of his taint. The human hissed. His eyes flew wide open. He moved his fingertip back to that spot, and dragged it along the expanse under his balls as his eyes fluttered. It felt good. Amazing; almost as amazing as getting fingered by the groomer had.

The human's mind jerked away from that thought as though burned. Then he shifted, rocking his hips as he began to hum in consideration. Finally, with a reluctant—though curious—grimace, Jake slid his finger further back into the dank pit of his cleft to brush it against the stinging ring of his puckered asshole.

Hot. Humid. And as Jake's eyes rolled in his head, he realized just how sensitive the flesh back there had become. No matter how much he hated the slick feeling of the nanite lube leaking out of him—the groomer had said that would happen, but at least it wasn't ample enough to leave behind embarrassing stains wherever he sat—or the thought that he was actually enjoying playing with his ass—having his ass played with in general, if what had happened at the groomer appointment the previous day meant anything—the human couldn't deny that it felt good to rub and stroke and dig his finger against the clenching rim of his hole. It was like finally scratching an itch that had been bothering him for hours and days; deeply satisfying in a way that words simply couldn't describe.

His stomach still roiled as he felt another tiny gush of lube from within him, almost like a woman's pussy leaking when she gets horny; again, his mind flinched away from that thought. The slick goo had a faint, pungent odor—spicy and musky, like sweaty man ass—that lingered and wafted and made Jake blush in embarrassed shame at the possibility that others around him could smell it. At the very least, the deer-man groomer had been right when he said it would keep his bowel movements tidy; when Master had taken him out the night before to 'do his business'—something that was still a struggle with the thought that anyone with a mind to could look through the hard-light fencing and see him—what had come out was firm, hard, and covered with a slimy coating of nanite lube that didn't leave behind any grimy residue. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the true purpose of that—to keep his insides clean for 'bonding' with his Master—but it was something. And as he teased himself, he came to the realization that—if nothing else—the slickness and sensitivity of his ass provided enough stimulation that he could probably get himself off if he concentrated.

And if only he wasn't interrupted at that precise moment.

“What are you doing?" The low, rumbling voice made Jake freeze as an icy finger of fear travelled up and down his spine. The human felt his cheeks burn as he looked over to the massive wall of literal beef standing in the bedroom doorway; Master. The bull-man was staring at Jake with his arms crossed over his broad chest; and by the set of his brows and frown, Master wasn't pleased with what he saw.

“Master…!" The human sat up quickly, nearly tangling himself up in his own arms and legs in his haste to hide his shame. “I was just… I… well…" He winced as his genitals continued to throb, and the hot pit between his asscheeks continued to pulse with the need for more touching than the brief brushes his fingertips had given it.

“Well?" The bull-man moved into the room, walking over to loom over the cowering human. One of Master's brows shot up as he let out an impatient snort.

“It's… the implant." Jake flinched, dropping his gaze to the covers as he grasped them in his clenching fists. “It's making me feel… hot. Real hot and horny. I need to touch myself, Master. I… I need to…" He trailed off as he realized what he was saying, and nearly heaved as his gut clenched into a knot of shame.

“So you decided to touch yourself without Master's permission, hm?" When Jake remained silent, Master grasped the human's chin and tilted his face up to meet the bull-man's flashing, red-tinted gaze. “Well?"

“Yes, Master."

“Naughty boy." Jake flinched at the words, and then his eyes widened in fear when the bull-man released his grip and raised his left arm; the human cringed in anticipation when Master tapped the screen on his wrist, and then Jake grit his teeth and fell onto his side as he convulsed and shook. The band around his ballsack let out an angry buzz as it sent a flow of electric pain shooting into the human's crotch, leaving Jake panting and whimpering breathlessly when it finally abated.

“Master… I'm… sorry…" He lifted his head when he heard the rustling of cloth, and let out a low whine at the sight of the bull-man pulling off the wrapping around his waist. Before he could squirm away, the alien man moved to pin the human down onto the bed; Master crawled over Jake, looming over the smaller man as his hips pressed down against his pet's. At the touch of the bull-man's hot, pulsing sheath against his cock and balls, Jake jerked and tried to swallow down a moan of pleasure.

“What are you sorry for?" Master's meaty hands held Jake's shoulders as the bull-man dipped down to stare right into the whimpering human's eyes.

“F-for… being a… b-bad boy…" Jake squirmed underneath Master; and then froze when a surge of pleasure rocked through him as his groin jerked upward against the fur and flesh grinding down on it. Good. It felt good. The feeling of Master's heavy balls and plump sheath—and the wet, hot tip of Master's emerging manhood—felt so good against his abused sack and soft, but so aroused cock. Tears pricked the corners of Jake's eyes, and he heaved when he realized that his legs instinctively wanted to wrap around the bull-man's hips so he could press up against that pulsing point of contact.

Master sighed, long and low, and then Jake's world upended itself as the bull-man rolled over. Jake was pulled down onto Master's chest, and the human could feel the alien man's massive, strong, rough hands sliding up and down his back. “Master forgives you. But if you're going to be a good boy, you need to learn that only Master can touch you. Alright?" One gargantuan palm cupped the entirety of the smaller man's rump, and Jake's eyes flew open wide with a quiet hiss through clenched teeth when a thick fingertip pressed into the dank expanse of his taint. The bull-man humping him had felt pleasant—as much as Jake loathed to admit it—but Master's touch just short of that aching pit in his cleft was something else entirely.

“Yes… Master." Jake buried his face in the surprisingly-soft, slightly-sweaty-and-musky fur coating Master's firm chest as his cheeks burned with shame. He hated this, but it felt so good; and when the bull-man's finger trailed up the length of Jake's crack, it was a struggle not to buck down against Master's hardening cock with a whine of need.

“And Master will only touch you like this when we're bonding. Alright?"

“Mm…" The human couldn't answer. That thick digit was slowly working down into the humid depths of his asscrack; and—even as some part of himself reeled at the thought of liking what was being done to him—he couldn't deny that Master's touch was satisfying that itch that had been driving him crazy all night and morning.

“Do you want Master to finger your little hole, Jake?"

Jake froze. Jake blinked. Jake gulped, and—reluctantly—lifted his gaze to meet Master's stern stare. “W-what…?"

A snort. “Don't deny that you want it, boy. You just told me that you were feeling hot and horny, and that's why you were touching yourself back here, right?"

The human's teeth clenched down around a frustrated growl as he realized that he couldn't deny what the alien bastard was saying. It felt good—amazing—to be touched back there; those fucking hormones from that implant that had been put in his ballsack made it feel amazing. But Jake was straight, and like hell he'd beg another man—especially the bull-man—to finger him. But then that fingertip brushed the slick lips of his clenching pucker, and Jake had to bury his face in Master's chest again to muffle the loud moan that slipped from his slack lips.

The human felt himself being bounced and shifted atop the bull-man as he was pushed over into the crook of Master's arm. That touch left his ass—Jake whined at the loss of contact—and then the bull-man grasped the back of Jake's head to lift and turn the human's face downward. Master was hard; that massive monolith of a bestial erection was pulsing on the alien man's flat stomach, and Jake felt another lurch in his gut at the sight. And the smell; pungent, cloying, masculine musk hung all around the two men, and Jake tried to hold his breath as it assaulted his senses.

“Here's the deal." Master's voice was low and even, but Jake could hear the rumbling undertone of the bull-man's own rising lust. “You stroke Master off, and Master will finger your hole until you're satisfied."

“Please, Master… please don't make me…" Jake tried to look away, but Master's grip was firm. He wanted so much to drive his knee into the bastard's balls, or reach up and dig his fingers into the alien man's eyes; but he knew that it was pointless to resist. Even if he fought and won by some miracle, what would he do then? Where would he go?

The bull-man's hand trailed down the human's spine in an almost-tender caress, and then grasped the smaller man's rump again. Fingers dug into Jake's cleft, and the human gasped. They pulled at one of Jake's soft asscheeks, and the human squirmed. They moved to press into Jake's taint and blaze teasing trails around and around just short of the hot, clenching ring in that humid valley, and the human moaned and whimpered and rocked his crotch—his throbbing non-erection and aching balls—against Master's hip. “It's the only way you're going to get to take care of your heat, Jake. If I catch you touching yourself without permission again, you know what will happen."

As those probing digits sent sparks shooting into his brain to scatter his whirling thoughts, Jake could only hiss and whine and nod with a quiet “Yes, Master." He shut his eyes tight and gritted his teeth against what he was about to do, and then Jake reached down to grasp the tube of pulsing flesh rising from Master's crotch. He could hear the bull-man's own low groans of pleasure as he began to pump, and hated himself for giving up his dignity to the alien bastard.

But when Master whispered out a husky 'good boy' and dug a thick finger against—into—the human's wet hole, Jake's reluctance foundered and was lost beneath the tidal wave of bliss that crashed through his mind.

Good. So good. Even better than the 'stretching' the day before had felt. It hurt, yes—the prodigious girth of the bull-man's finger made the human's inner walls sting as they strained to stretch around it—but the pain gave the pleasure surging through him a bittersweet tinge that set fireworks off behind Jake's closed eyes. That probing digit forced itself in deeper—sinking into the human's clenching back passage to the knuckle—and the human gasped and whined as his itching rim was stretched wide open. Almost of its own accord, Jake's hand grasped and squeezed the throbbing shaft of Master's massive erection, stroking it up and down in a tight grip; and Jake was rewarded with a prod of Master's fingertip against that pulsing spot buried in his inner walls that made him yelp and moan with bliss.

His prostate. The needfully-aching knot of nerves that the deer-man groomer had awakened. The tiny bulb that sent arcs of sweet electricity through his crotch as his soft cock jerked and spat out globs of precum into the fur on Master's hip. Every touch against that firm little bud rocked Jake's world; made him sigh and grind his cheek into the bull-man's chest as his hips rocks forward to grind his genitals against Master's body, and then back to push against the finger working in and out of his hole.

It was the best sex Jake had ever had, and somewhere in the haze of pleasure—deep in the recesses of his mind, below the tides of lust though which his thoughts floundered—some part of him snarled and howled in rage at the realization. Sure, it had been a while since he'd had sex—beginning of his senior year at college, which seemed like the distant memory of another life to the man—but nothing had ever come close to the sweet bliss he was feeling; no hand, or mouth, or even pussy embracing his cock had ever come close to stoking the fires of his lust like the bull-man's single finger in his ass was.

Again and again. On and on. Master's finger thrusted deep into Jake's clamping hole, and the spring coil in his crotch wound tighter and tighter. His hand moved up and down the bull-man's twitching member, and Master grunted and panted and murmured into the side of the human's head. Master's one-armed embrace tightened, and Jake's cheek ground into the flexing pectoral on which he was resting his flushed face. He could hear the crooning rumble of the other man's pleasure and smell the thick musk of the other man's body tainting every panting, gasping breath; and to the horror of that shrinking part within him—the part that was desperately clawing for purchase as it sank into the mire of lust flooding Jake's mind—even that was beginning to fuel the roiling in his groin.

Before he could really consider that, however, the spring coil within him finally snapped. His hands moved with desperation up and down Master's erection, and far away he could hear the alien man grunt and groan and huff out his own orgasm. But for Jake, the only thing that seemed to exist was the hot, tingling, burning patch of his inner walls that was being stroked by the bull-man's finger; even the spurting of his still-soft cock between the two of them was secondary to the sweet bliss that contact brought him. He couldn't think. He could barely breathe. It was all he could do to cling to Master and ride out the inferno of pleasure that erupted within him.

Panting. Gasping. Moaning. Jake lay in a boneless heap on Master's heaving chest, feeling the tide of lust that had overtaken him slowly recede as the warmth of afterglow set in. He felt the finger in his ass slowly pull out, leaving his hole clenching down around the sudden emptiness, and whimpered as he squirmed atop the bull-man. A low, deep chuckle answered the human as Master's broad hand settled on Jake's back to trace up and down his spine. “Good boy, Jake." Rough lips pressed against the human's temple, and a puff of humid breath brushed his flushed cheek. “Really loved that, didn't you."

Jake felt another lurch in his heaving stomach as the bull-man's voice broke through the haze. He'd just jerked off another man. He'd let that man finger his ass. And he'd enjoyed it enough to cum from it; the puddle soaking Master's thigh was thin and watery, but that was undeniably his semen. Part of him, at least, really had loved it; and as that other part of him—the part that had been dragged along by the undertow of his lust the entire time—finally broke free, every fiber of Jake's being jerked away in disgust from the thought. The roiling in his gut returned, clenching into a knot of shame that worked its way up into his throat before being spat out in a torrent of words into Master's chest. “No, I… I didn't. I'm not… not gay. I don't like this, I… I don't…!" His hands clenched on the massive man's shoulders—his grip barely making a dent in the bull-man's stony musculature—as he lifted his head to meet Master's unamused gaze.

“Really? You seemed to be enjoying yourself well enough, boy."

“It's…" Justin's swimming thoughts scrabbled for something—anything—that could be used to deny it. “It's the implant. It's… it's too much. I can't live like this, Master." He gulped, but the flow couldn't be stopped as all the frustration—sexual or otherwise—that had been building up since his 'appointment' poured out at once. “It's driving me crazy, being horny all the time but not being able to… to jerk off…" Hot tears of embarrassment pricked Jake's eyes. “Please get it taken out, Master. I'm begging you, please. O-or if not, just… turn it off. Just for a few hours a day…" He shuddered and groaned, flinching as Master's embrace tightened around him.

“I can't Jake. You need to bear with it." The bull-man's voice was low and even, as though speaking to an unruly child; or a disobedient pet. “You will learn to love this, Jake. When you do, maybe Master will turn it down some of the time. But if this unhealthy obsession continues, I'll have to ask the groomer to... remove the source of the problem." He let out a quiet grunt. “It's alright to admit it if you can't get past this. Sometimes humans need drastic help to adapt to their new lives."

“N-no!" Jake squirmed, but Master's grip was as solid and tight as a vice. “P-please! Don't cut my dick off, Master, please!"

“You don't even really need it anymore, you're just stuck in your old ways of thinking." Jake tried to drop his gaze, but once more the bull-man reached up to easily hold the human's head in place with one hand. Master's red-tinted eyes bored into Jake's own in a firm, but somehow warm stare. “I don't want to remove that cute little thing you've got. But if it's making it impossible to focus on what you need to do, I will have to. Do you want that?"

All the fight in Jake died; he wanted to argue against what Master probably thought was a reasonable idea, but he couldn't. And whether it was a lack of will, or if the bull-man's kind, but firm tone was getting to him, even he couldn't say. He finally let out a low, soft whimper. “No…"

“Then will you be a good boy?"

“Yes…"

“'Yes'…?" One brow shot up expectantly.

“Yes… Master."

“Good boy." Jake grimaced as the bull-man leaned in to press another surprisingly-tender kiss on his tear-stained cheek. “Come on then, we need to get cleaned up." As he had after the appointment the day before, Master gathered his trembling pet up in his arms to cradle Jake against his chest. And as he had after being forced—once again—to accept anything and everything the bull-man could think of to do to him, Jake buried his face in Master's shoulder while being hefted up and carried into the bathroom for a Steri-spray shower. He couldn't protest. He couldn't run away. He couldn't fight.

All he could do was be a good boy for his Master.