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Sleep hadn't come easily for Ishraq.

It seemed like every hour he awoke with a new ailment. At first, he found himself rolling into the rigid bars on either side of the small kennel he was kept in. A little while later, his muscles were cramping due to the lack of space to spread out. By early morning, he was stiff from the poor bedding in his cell. He briefly thought about stretching out on the floor instead to be marginally more comfortable, but feared punishment if he were discovered to have flaunted expectations and the meager reward certainly wasn't worth the risk.

When his alarm went off just after sunrise (which in itself was too few hours of sleep, given his late night escapades in the gardens) his testicles ached fiercely. His morning wood had been successfully contained by the chastity cage locked around his plump sheath. His erection still put up a futile fight against its confines, but only managed to press painfully against the bars. That put pressure on the ring behind his scrotum that secured it in place, tugging on his sac. Despite the pain and discomfort, the sun bear couldn't seem to quell his body's natural proclivity. As his balls were stretched and pinched he hoped that he would eventually adjust to wearing the infernal device, then swore at himself for even considering bending to the crime lord's desires. He unleashed a roar of a yawn, rose and worked the aches out of his muscles, and scavenged a quick breakfast from his suite's kitchenette.

The ursine knew his Master required his assistance that morning, but for what task he was not exactly sure. He wondered if the fruit bat would be awake at such an early hour, then quickly realized that the question should be whether or not he was still up at that hour. Ishraq needed direction and he could either seek out Laurent, or let the mobster's calico and hedgehog goons come to him. After reflecting on what each had put him through thus far, the former seemed slightly less insufferable. He shivered with the morning chill and wished he was allowed to don clothing, or a robe, or was at least given a heavier blanket than the threadbare sheet he had been provided with.

He set off to find his owner. The mansion was colossal to the point of being overwhelming. Although most of the manor's corridors were more standard architecture and easier for grounded anthros to traverse without the added necessity of stairs or ladders, it included some rooms that were multiple stories tall and sweepingly large with heavy rings attached to chains dangling from the ceiling for Fabien to fly to, perch upon, and hang from. He had done so much running back and forth with his chores from the previous day that he had a decent map laid out in his mind, but with the labyrinthian layout of his opulent prison, Ishraq found himself lost on occasion and had to retrace his steps.

No matter where he wandered, paintings adorned the hallways. Scarcely an inch of wall left uncovered. Many didn't even have frames and some seemed so fresh that the paint could still be damp. The subjects were mostly dark and abstract with errant splashes of vibrancy here and there in stark juxtaposition of the otherwise somber and brooding works. The consistency in quality among the paintings was so solid that even someone like Ishraq, who wasn't particularly interested in art, could tell that they were done by the same artist.

The bear eventually approached the megabat's office and heard his voice coming from within. At first he didn't recognize it. The criminal's tone seemed far less intense than the deliberate cadence he was used to, but it punctuated with his signature accent.

"No. Cancel the hit," he told whoever he was speaking to.

There was the telltale crackle of a phone on speaker.

"Your father ordered it just yesterday. The words he used were, I believe: The insult is inexcusable. If you don't give a show of force-" whoever he was talking to had a cold, calculating voice.

"I said no! I manage the debts in my territory. If I want to do anything about it, I will be the one to send someone to threaten them and scare them into paying," Fabien said before releasing an exasperated sigh. "Not my father."

"Your competition is...rapacious. They'll sense weakness and close in if you don't. Without a display of ruthlessness I do not know how much longer I can publicly back you. Or Victor."

"How many times must I say no!?" He snapped.

"I don't give refunds."

"I don't care. I am in charge here! Break a window instead. Send a message if you must, but no more bloodshed."

There was an unsatisfied grunt on the other end of the line.

"I have work to do," Laurent declared.

Ishraq peeked around the doorframe to see him purposefully tap the cell phone sitting on his desk to end the call. The gangster rested his elbows on the massive desk and hung his head in his paws. His wings bones stretched out on either side of him. His large, pierced ears drooped limply and his shoulders slackened. After a moment he groaned and dragged himself upright, rolling his neck. His glassy black eyes told a story of a haggard fur. He suddenly noticed Ishraq peering around the corner and instantly righted himself. His face became an impassive, aloof expression as he scowled at his slave.

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux!?" He snarled.

Ishraq stepped around the doorframe as if he had just arrived and tried to pretend that he hadn't been eavesdropping. He presented himself, naked, in front of his host in an attempt to adopt a subservient posture with his head bowed and his arms clasped behind his back.

"You said that you needed me this morning, Master," he reminded the bat. He kept his eyes on the floor rather than dare look the mobster in the eye and raise his ire further. He had seen what the bat was capable of when he was in a placid mood.

"Yes...I did, didn't I?" He tented his claws in a pensive expression. "Some of my guests from last night have decided to invite themselves to stay. What kind of host would I be if I didn't offer them brunch? You will be assisting this morning by serving them as entertainment...and the dish."

The captive bear must've looked thoroughly confused because after an awkward and silent moment the winged fur elaborated.

"You will be the platter off of which our meal is served. See my chef. He will decorate you with coconut cream and slices of fruit. You will lie absolutely still while we lick our breakfast from your body. If you move, you will be punished. Severely. After we have had our fill my guests may do as they wish with you. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good. If they are pleased with your service you may rest for the remainder of the day," he finished, his sharp tone ebbing. "Leave me."

Not wanting to risk upsetting his owner further, Ishraq silently nodded and departed. It unquestionably seemed like an easier task than the previous day's exhausting cleaning followed by having orally servicing a dozen strangers while serving as a public urinal. It was true that he had no idea of what the other mobsters may wish to do for "entertainment" but considering what he had been through already he assumed little could be significantly worse. At least he hoped as much. At any rate, he wasn't willing to risk losing the reprieve from Loud and Quiet's tauntings.

Ishraq went to the kitchen and met the cook. He was a gruff wolf with an imposing physique. Like most of Fabien's underlings he was at once intimidating and ruggedly handsome. Marbled black and brown fur was visible around the neck of his chef's jacket, and his strong jaw was locked in a perpetual scowl while he stared down his snout at the bear.

The cook instructed him to push a cart of ingredients from a refrigerator into an industrial-sized, walk-in freezer. Inside was a massive serving cart with an enormous, silver dish atop it. He was informed that he would not be moving for quite some time and he should stretch and move as much as he wanted before they began. When he was ready he climbed onto the table and laid down. The frozen platter against his back made him flinch. His breath was visible in the air.

"The cold will keep the cream from melting while I work," the lupine told him.

---

The chef worked quickly and with a steady paw, but even so Ishraq ended up lying there for more than an hour. The frigid environment caused the bear's cage to radiate chill, and he felt his sheath shrink away from the icy bars. With great focus the wolf created stylized mounds of sweetened coconut cream. He piped and slathered, making the ursine feel like a fancy cake being frosted. Eventually the cook deftly sliced fresh fruits and plucked berries from a series of bowls. He placed each morsel with fastidious consideration, often leaning back to examine his creation. Everytime that Ishraq even breathed too quickly he admonished him with an impatient glare, lest a cherry or melon ball roll from its place and snowball its way across a hill of cream.

A dollop of icing coated each of his nipples. A narrow mountain ridge of coconut frosting cascaded over his torso ending in at his navel. Upon each peak was a drizzle of chocolate or fruit syrup before it was crowned with a delectable treat. The edible artwork didn't end on his abdomen. A flower of whipped delight bloomed to cover his caged groin. The slight melt on the underside from his body heat made his sheath feel uncomfortably sticky. His thighs were ornamented with a lattice of delicately spun sugar and fresh fruit. His arms as well, all of the way down to and over his upturned palms. The precision and detail he was covered in made him curious to see himself, but he scarcely caught distorted glimpses of himself in the polished metal reflection of the freezer's ceiling.

Finally, the process was complete.

With the aid of some of the other kitchen staff, he was wheeled out to the patio that he spent the previous evening on. The serving tray that he lay on was hefted and carefully positioned at the center of a table. The chef's brow was furrowed with deep ridges of consternation, and he exhaled a heavy sigh of relief as soon as Ishraq was safely in place. The sun had climbed higher, but the columns supporting the overhanging roof kept him in the shade, a gust of cool morning air wafted across him. In the grass not far away was a pillory and a rack of whips, canes, paddles and other impact implements, much to the sun bear's dismay.

Servants swiftly trotted in and out. They carried glasses and set them before each chair around the table. The cups contained a variety of mixed drinks suitable for the morning. A mimosa of fresh juice and fine champagne was chief among them and was poured into deep crystal goblets. This flurry of motion around him happened quickly, lest the masterpiece on his body begin to melt.

The mansion's doors were stopped open and Fabien led his guests in a train out to the yard soon after. Ishraq wasn't brave enough to risk turning his head and ruining the art, and could only see them in his peripheral vision. There was maybe a few furs shy of a dozen that sat in a circle around him. They chatted in pairs or triplets in tired but cheerful voices. The bat took a seat near the sun bear's shoulder and gazed into his eyes as he set his talons up on a spare chair and slumped back. He absently reached for a glass and took a deep swig before mouthing to his pet 'Do not disappoint me.'

The prisoner recognized a few faces from those who had used his services the previous evening, but they mostly blurred together. Other than Laurent, the one that stood out among them the most was Simon. He again clung to the arm of the stately, if bleary-eyed, hart beside him. The oryx fidgeted uncomfortably when he saw his ex mate, and made an active effort to avoid meeting his gaze. The group quieted as they settled into their seats and sipped their cocktails with varying levels of enthusiasm.

"Let it never be said your parties don't have a certain quirky charm to them?" A skunk commented as his gaze rolled over the displayed ursine. "I do hope your pet shampooed last night."

"As if that would stop you," quipped a boar.

"I hope brunch is to your liking. Feel free to punish my slave, should he lose any bit of your meal due to...restlessness."

As if to give an example the fruit bat set down his goblet and leaned over the captive bear. He huffed a line of hot breath across his neck, making him twitch ever so slightly, before his long, sinuous tongue extended and lapped through a bank of cream near the hollow of his throat. The swipe of his tongue was so quick and smooth, flickering across his body in the blink of an eye, that he almost didn't register it. It scooped up a delicate slice of blood orange and left a narrow trough in its wake. There was a level of sensuality in that motion that almost left the sun bear quivering.

"Your slave?" A fennec interjected with an arched brow. "I didn't think you were willing to traffic in such things."

"For the next month, at least. He's working off a substantial debt," Laurent answered.

"Always the saint among us," the porcine butted in again. Ishraq had to fight the hardest to not twitch when he ate. His tusks grazed his flesh beneath his fur and he tended to snort hot puffs of breath from his wide snout. He winked over to a cocky, young donkey beside him who leered at Ishraq with an open and intense desire. The equine was dressed more casually than most around the table and hadn't taken part in any discussions of business. It seemed that he, much like Simon, was merely a "plus one" at the party, even if he was more than willing to engage in the more decadent of Fabien's offerings.

"Are you overcharging or undercharging the whore?" The skunk questioned.

The mobster merely necked the remainder of his current drink and didn't bother responding.

"The fact that you won't answer in front of the poor bear leads me to believe the former. You can tell me exactly how much he owes later."

Fabien sighed.

"It's rude to ask," the fennec said on his host's behalf.

"Agreed. Of course if I knew the value I might be interested in purchasing his debt," said Simon's new mate. He wet his lips before leaning in to pull the apple slice from the sun bear's belly with a wet slurp.

"Not for sale, I'm afraid, Alaric" the fruit bat replied, holding out his glass. A servant bolted forward to refill it from a nearby pitcher.

Alaric- finally Ishraq had a name to put to the face. He felt a strange pang of jealousy even though he no longer had any interest in dating his ex.

"Eat," the moose said suddenly to his boyfriend. Simon looked fretfully at Ishraq. The bear knew exactly what he was thinking. He was normally reserved and it was an awkward scenario for him to engage in something so licentious with his former lover, especially at the behest of the current one. The ursine could tell that the other ungulate was far more hardened to the misery of others and trying to mold the hooved fur into a tougher version of himself. From personal experience Ishraq knew that it was doomed to fail. Simon would give it his all to be harsher when it came to kink, but at the end of the day he was too nice of an anthro to be able to hold that visage for long.

Simon leaned over and found a dainty wedge of pineapple on the sun bear's upper thigh, near his groin. He trailed his tongue through the coconut treat, but failed to find the morsel on his first attempt. It slid up near the slave's sac, lost in a wake of cream. He was stuck lapping near Ishraq's crotch until he at last scooped up the bit of fruit and slumped back in his seat, blushing furiously.

To the servant's chagrin, he felt a tingle of old desire for the hooved anthro stir in his loins as his tongue teased the flesh beneath the treat. He sheath pulsed with a sudden warmth, and he throbbed against the bars of his cage. Luckily his embarrassing arousal was well hidden due to the whipped cream coating it. The meal continued, as did drinks and conversation. There was an odd mixture of distrust and camaraderie among the guests, as their conversation flowed effortlessly from business to casual chatting to sardonic barbs.

After a short while the majority of the syrup, fruit, and coconut had been licked from Ishraq's body. His fur was matted with the remnants of the meal and he was stiff from maintaining a single pose for so long. Fabien leaned over him and licked a line of running cream from his abdomen. The bat's tongue trailed along the crease between his upper arm and ribs. He twitched at the tickling sensation. One of the few remaining cherries on his body slumped in its mound of cream and rolled away. He felt the morsel tumble over his form before rolling off of his body and onto the floor with a wet plop.

Time seemed to slow as the bite landed on the ground. Conversation ceased as the gathered furs turned to look at Laurent. He pressed his talons against the table and rose to stand, an intense mask set over his face.

"I am glad that I prepared for this eventuality," he proclaimed as he strode toward the pillory. He admiringly fingered the handles of the flogs and paddles arrayed on a rack alongside it with his claws. "Come to me." His order wasn't particularly severe, but despite being softly spoken it held a glacial edge.

The boar and skunk smiled while the naked ursine pushed himself up to a seated position and turned to climb off the table. He was especially careful not to splatter any of the guests with his unkempt form, lest they use the opportunity to punish him even more severely. He felt terribly exposed, as he had the evening before, and wished he had a larger, fuller tail, like a squirrel's, to hide his naked rump from the lewd glares of the mobsters.

The megabat lifted the top plank of the pillory from its groove and made a flamboyant motion with his paw toward Ishraq. The bear felt his stomach drop as he approached. It was clear what was expected of him and he stood alongside Laurent before bending down and resting his throat and wrists in the appropriate gaps for them. The apparatus wasn't particularly tall and he had to splay his legs rather wide to maintain his posture and balance. The cool breeze caressed his cleft and sac.

The winged anthro grabbed a pawful of his rump and squeezed. His talons absently massaged the flesh beneath them as he decided on which implement to reach for. It would have felt rather nice if it wasn't leading up to what Ishraq was convinced would be a thoroughly unpleasant experience. After a moment's consideration the crime lord decided on a wicked-looking flog. Its handle was jet black with vibrant, yellow lashes. He positioned himself behind the sun bear and used it to slash through the nothingness above the slave's back a couple of times. The whip swished audibly as it sliced through the air. Ishraq could feel the rush of air ripple through the fuzz on his back.

His Master then reached for a second scourge.

It was similar to the first but with braided, crimson lashes rather than yellow. He flourished with it in his off paw to a similar effect. Ishraq felt a tingle of nervous anticipation vibrate up his spine. His fur bristled. He fought the urge to flinch and show his fear with each harmless pass of the whip.

The mobster began to slowly circle around his bound captive. His arms were kept in constant motion. The lashes whipped around and past one another in a remarkable display, never once catching on the webbing of his wings. It would have been enticing to watch, had the sun bear not known that at any moment those flogs would be striking him and leaving stinging welts in their wake. The hypnotic show continued for a full two rotations around the pillory, before Laurent squared his stance behind the bound fur and made his first sincere swipe.

The flog solidly thumped against his pet's presented ass. His fur absorbed a lot of the initial blow, but the tips of the weapon wrapped around his hip and thigh and stung through his dark pelt. He managed to swallow his instinctive yelp and squeak past with barely a wince.

"Durable," Fabien observed with a smirk. The aura of tired detachment that normally clung to the criminal dissolved with the BDSM gear in his paw. He seemed in his element. He lashed out three more times in rapid succession, eliciting a series of grunts from his slave.

The mobster started attacking in a steady rhythm. Strike after strike, blow after blow, rained down on the helpless bear. His victim grunted and snarled, but managed to maintain his composure. He was afraid to let the bat smell blood. He got the distinct impression that while his owner greatly enjoyed what he was doing, he wasn't laying into Ishraq quite as harshly as he could. Although judging by the hungry glances of the gangsters watching his humiliation, that this was only a taste of things to come. After a couple of minutes of punishment, Laurent ceased and rolled his shoulders.

Ishraq felt tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes, but managed to blink them away. It wasn't a good time to show weakness. The bat's chest rose and fell from the exertion, but the look of pleasure on his face settled back into his standard contemptuous gaze as it rolled over their audience.

"I've things to do. Punish him. Use him as you see fit. Excuse yourselves from my home when you've had your fill. My furs will release my slave when you're done. If you need anything, merely ask any of the help. And of course...no permanent marks left on my property. Good day."

The bat dropped his whips onto the lawn and briskly walked away. He passed by the brunch table on his way back into his manner and grabbed a full goblet of juice and liquor before disappearing into his abode. The remaining criminals stood and advanced toward the ursine. They all seemed intent on indulging their dominant sides by abusing the helpless prisoner, with the exception Simon. The oryx approached with far more trepidation than the other anthros.

"Who wants the first crack at him?" The skunk asked. He eyed the selection of paddles like a cub in a candy shop.

"I'd like to see my mate have a go. To make sure he has the mettle to stand with us in this industry," the imposing moose suggested. Alaric motioned with his antlers to a fretful Simon who stood in his shadow.

"Is this your first time enjoying someone's pain? You'll get a taste for it soon enough," the vulpine said, woefully unaware of his history with Ishraq. He reached for a heavy oak paddle that had holes drilled through it. He hefted it in his paw and it was almost comically large against his slight frame. He tread out of the sun bear's field of view to pass the weapon to Simon.

Ishraq recalled not a terribly long time ago when he had handed Simon a paddle himself and asked the fur to strike him, just a few times to try it out, but the anthro had been too meek and kind-hearted to follow through with any swing with oomph behind it. Now he gave a quick, awkward shake of his head to shyly decline. Alaric gripped the handle instead and forced it into the oryx's grasp.

"You strike him, or I strike you," he insisted.

Simon's hoof was unsteady as he grabbed the paddle and positioned himself behind the ursine. He uttered something so softly that Ishraq couldn't quite make it out, but sounded like an apology. He then flicked his wrist. The blow was weak, and barely made the bear start when it connected.

"Harder," the larger ungulate ordered.

The timid oryx smacked his ass again, more forcefully, but still not nearly hard as Fabien's surprisingly merciful strikes. The sun bear tried to help him out by releasing a small hiss as though it stung far worse than it actually had, but it seemed that his ex's new boyfriend wasn't pleased.

"Harder."

This cycle repeated until Simon lurched back and managed to lash out with the paddle as strongly as one would expect from a novice BDSM Dom, ramping up to enough force to legitimately cause his sub to grunt and yelp and wince. After a dozen of such strikes, the hooved anthro stopped. He panted, but if it was from the physical effort or the emotion was unclear. Ishraq's ass actually stung from the assault. The stately hart was finally satisfied with his performance and nodded to him before taking the paddle from his grasp.

Alaric decided to take his turn next. He nudged his beau out of his way and stretched briefly before holding the weapon at the ready. He popped his neck intimidatingly and wound back. He struck hard, holding the implement with both hooves. It cracked against the bear's unprotected backside with a tremendous thwack! A tingling numbness set in for a second before the slave registered the pain. His face skewed from the anguish and he groaned through gritted teeth. The stag scarcely allowed him to process it before repeating the blow a second time, then a third.

Ishraq's resolve to not give the mobsters the satisfaction of his torment quickly disintegrated. He soon whimpered from the pain. He found himself fidgeting, squirming in place, but he lacked any true ability to evade incoming attacks and merely succeeded in making his punishers chuckle at how he wriggled his hips invitingly. The crime lord switched tactics just when he was at his breaking point. He started to paddle in short, rapid strokes, barely light slaps compared to his previous show of dominance, but they came so swiftly that it made a clear, precise tempo against his ass. Every so often an off-beat strike would come in hard and make him cry out. By the time he was finished tears stained the fur of his face.

The next mobster took up his position, but found himself a different paddle. Rather than solid wood like the previous one, the boar clutched a supple silicone paddle that flopped this way and that as he waved it menacingly. At first Ishraq thought that this particular instrument might be less painful than the last due to its softness, but he was gravely mistaken. This anthro lacked the restraint and rhythm of his previous tormentors and laid in hard. The end of the paddle acted like a whip, directing the force of each smack to the end of the rubber and striking sharply, leaving a painful welt behind. The sun bear doubted he would sit down comfortably, if at all, for the remainder of the week.

His legs shook as he struggled to find the stamina to hold himself in position, but if they gave out he would only end up choking himself on the pillory.

Finally it was the skunk's turn. The monochrome fur gleefully retrieved a paddle crafted of clear resin. He pressed its flat side against the ursine's rump and saw his fur flatten beneath it. Ishraq betrayed his suffering at the prolonged pressure against his freshly abused ass with a whine until the implement was withdrawn. Rather than paddle his rump, which already teetered back and forth between numbness and intense, stinging pain, the skunk instead placed the paddle between his spread legs. The hard plastic was just narrow enough to fit between his thighs. It clacked loudly against his chastity cage when it slapped against his nuts.

To his embarrassment, the sun bear realized that he had oozed a trail of pre onto it. Deep down this treatment aroused a raw, carnal part of him, even if he wished the scene occurred with different Doms and under different circumstances. His sac was sensitive from prolonged wear of his chastity device, and his heavy balls rested on the end of the paddle. The gathered criminals and their guests laughed and mocked him for the pearlescent strands pre.

"Like that, do you," the fennec teased from his right. "When I lock my slaves I rivet the cage shut. You should be happy that your owner kept the key."

Slowly at first, the skunk started to tap upward, bumping his testicles. Even though it was only a very slight jolt, each connection caused a pain to shoot up and wrench through his gut. The bouncing quickened and intensified, and Ishraq found himself sucking in air through his teeth and counting his breaths to not beg and plead for mercy.

The boar leaned in close while Ishraq endured the onslaught on his testicles and snuffled a hot puff of breath in his face.

"Do you think we should do some real damage?" He asked the others snidely. "Maybe take off a bit ourselves? He's not using his junk anyway while it is trapped in that cage. Not even that- just make a few cuts. Leave a few scars. Make sure he remembers us." He flipped out a knife with a grace that didn't match his form and picked at his hoof with its razor tip.

"B-but...Monsieur Laurent said no permanent damage," Simon ventured meekly. Despite his apprehensive voice, it was brave of him to stand up to the career criminals at that moment.

The pig and mustelid shared a conspiratorial glance.

"Fabien is weak and you know it," the skunk told his friend. "He'd let it go before starting trouble. He'd kick up a big fuss- maybe run to his daddy- but when push came to shove he'd back off before letting someone die. He says he has the bastard for a month. If we'd rather be even more disrespectful I could always give him a spray and make at least half of that time absolutely atrocious for them both."

They cackled in unison.

Simon looked pleadingly toward his boyfriend who rested a reassuring hoof on his shoulder.

"And right now we are in his home, enjoying his property. I intend to accept Laurent's generosity graciously and not abuse his hospitality...nor speak of him as an enemy," the stag interrupted.

"We're all rivals here. You know this as well as I do. You also know that the only reason he has the authority that he does is because his father cut him this little slice of his empire. And he isn't half the bat Victor is. His assets are poorly protected. His wealth and respect diminish with each leniency he grants. Family connections will only take him so far. He takes a share of business that should go to stronger furs. But I suppose I could let it go for now. Besides, there are other ways I can enjoy some time with this bear. I got to use his muzzle last night, but I think I could fill his ass," the boar suggested.

"Me too," his equine escort commented, massaging a sizable bulge in his jeans.

The group let the matter drop as their attention turned toward more salacious matters. All of them, except for Simon, agreed they'd enjoy a turn buried in Ishraq's hole.

The fennec moved behind Ishraq. He nudged his compatriot out of the way, thankfully ended the assault on the sun bear's testicles which had continued throughout the conversation. He could no longer see the large-eared fur, but felt his nimble paws grab his hips and massage his butt. He bristled at the contact after having been paddled for so long. The vulpine paused to retrieve some lube from the assorted gear nearby and drizzled a healthy volume just beneath the ursine's tail. The cool liquid drizzled down his cleft and dripped beneath his sac. The mobster slathered his dextrous fingers and prodded at the servant's ring before wriggling one inside.

Ishraq tensed and reflexively clamped down around the invading digit. His top chuckled and circled around his aperture until he loosened a bit, then pushed further in.

"His tailhole is hungry. Good thing I've got plenty to pump into it," he announced.

He proceeded to slide his finger in deep until his knuckle butted up against the bear's pucker. The small fox beckoned, forcing his paw pad against the bear's prostate and dragging across it, making his gasp. He felt a spurt of pre escape his sheath from the pressure exerted on the sweet spot within him. The viscous strand lazily dribbled to the grass beneath him and glistened in the sunlight. There was a tittering at his expense for the second display of arousal. The sun bear's ears drooped in shame, and his face burned almost as badly as his backside.

"It looks like he's enjoying himself. Maybe this punishment is more a gift to him than it is a present to us," Alaric commented. He may have saved Ishraq from permanent scarring or gagging on skunk spray, but he definitely didn't seem to be on the bear's side in this ordeal. He was more than willing to take advantage of the prisoner, as he displayed the previous evening.

A second finger soon joined the first in the ursine's ass, slick with oil. It glided in and twisted around its twin. The anthro behind him rotated his wrist, and pulled and thrusted, opening him up further. Ishraq was not known to be quiet during sex and his habits betrayed him. While he was humiliated that he was about to be raped by a parade of furs who had just delighted in beating him in front of his former lover, he still grunted and moaned as his tormenter stretched him for public use.

His body emitted more spurts of pre with each pass against his prostate and his penis intermittently tried to harden, only for his sheath to plump in vain against the interior of his chastity cage. His ebony cock tip had a wet sheen and ached as it fought a losing battle against the steel. Just when Ishraq was expecting a third finger, the two buried in his heat withdrew entirely, leaving his ring feeling damp from the lube and empty. He heard the familiar sound of a zipper being undone and the wet, repetitive slapping of a paw fervently greasing an erection.

The skunk lasciviously eyed the canid's hardness. It was a veiny, marbled pink with a healthy knob of flesh at its base. The shaft was impressive compared to his diminutive form; he was even shorter than his captive, but he was at least an inch longer. The elastic of the fennec's underwear hooked beneath his sac and prominently displayed his maleness to his peers which ended at a spade-shaped crown. The scent of his uncovered length suffused the air and mingled with Ishraq's own in an enticing aroma.

"Just don't tie him. We all want a turn and I can't waste all day here while we wait for you to deflate."

The warmth of the tip of his rod suddenly pressed against the sun bear's ass and lined up with his hole. He had one paw at the base of his shaft to guide himself in, but the other gripped his submissive's waist. His short claws dug painfully into his hip. The anthro gave a quick buck immediately plunged in until he was nearly hilted. Only his knot remained unburied. The rigid shaft was thick after having been stretched by his slender paws, and it felt like it was prying him open as it was driven so roughly into him. He yelped and shuddered in response, but the vulpine only gave a half-hearted laugh before playfully slapping his rump. He leaned over the slave before withdrawing halfway and thrusting in again, and again, and again. He reached around with one paw and swiped his claws through the omnipresent trail of pre leaking from Ishraq's cage, then stretched his arm forward in front of the bear's muzzle.

"Lick it off," he commanded.

Begrudgingly, the servant did. He rolled his tongue along the presented fingers that had only moments before been buried in his ass, tasting his own salty emissions on them.

The fennec continued to fuck him, both confidently and rough. He pistoned ever faster and with a rarely faltering rhythm. The only part of the scenario that the bear was grateful for was that his abuser was either very aroused or didn't seem to have much stamina. Inside of a couple of minutes his breathing was ragged and he approached his climax. He gripped his knot in one paw to prevent fully slamming himself into the prisoner as he came. Ishraq felt the heat of the knot pulse between the globes of his ass as his seed erupted inside of him. The fox tensed and spasmed with a satisfied growl. He panted for several heartbeats before pulling his softening cock free and stepping aside to stuff his spent shaft back into his trousers. His milky spunk leaked from the sun bear's ass and down his inner thigh. Despite his discomfort, the sensation would have caused him to become erect, had his hardness not been so thoroughly stifled.

The skunk went next and was no less gentle than the previous fuck. In the span of seconds he was lubed and in position, giving Ishraq no time to recover before driving himself in in a series of increasingly deep thrusts. A few heartbeats later his hips were grinding against Ishraq's own. He nipped at the bear's scruff as he fucked him, and jabbed at unpleasant angles, seemingly on purpose, as if to make the slave even more uncomfortable. His shaft was somewhat smaller than the fox's, but was tapered from a pointed tip to a thick base at his sheath that the captive fur found himself stretching wide to accommodate. Before long, his essence splashed in to join the other anthro's.

One by one they took their turns. Each had their own unique style of mating. Some were slow and powerful, like the dapper boar whose strong physique beaded with sweat as he buried himself deep. Others rutted him with a wild tenacity.

After the moose had finished pumping his cum into Ishraq, he withdrew and squeezed the last remnants of his ejaculate from his cock before wiping it on the fur of the bear's ass. He looked over to his oryx mate, offering him the next go, but Simon refused with a brief shake of his head. He wasn't pressured into taking part. The hooved anthro was a switch who leaned top, but perhaps he was the bottom in their relationship and it wasn't expected of him to mount another.

Ishraq's abused ring leaked the combined spunk of the assembled mobsters after nearly an hour of being repeatedly fucked, but finally the last fur moved forward to avail himself of the sun bear's "services." It was the donkey, whose name Fabien's pet hadn't caught in the blur of conversation. He moved first in front of the pillory and shimmied his tight jeans down his thighs so that his designer underwear was fully displayed. They were a sky blue with royal purple elastic and piping. The pouch bulged with his heavy, equine length.

The jack was easily the largest among them due to the natural gifts of his species. Even through the taut fabric of his trunks the prisoner could see his wide, flared tip and the contours of his medial ring. He slid his hooved thumbs into his waistband and shoved them down several inches as well, before lifting the front of his shirt. He was already mostly erect and the dappled pink and brown flesh oozed pre. He smelled a potent and heady mix of sweat and pheromones. His cock curved upward at a slight angle toward his athletic torso. He smacked his hefty tip against the bear's muzzle.

"I just wanted to show you what was coming," he commented with a wink, before meandering behind the captive and slicking his hardness with a squeeze of lube. He didn't use much, but the bear's entrance was already slippery from heavy use.

He pressed the apex of his cock at Ishraq's cleft and forced his way in. The servant groaned as he was stretched wide to accommodate it. Inches sunk into him until he didn't think he could take anymore and only then did he feel the ring at the monstrous length's halfway point make its way beneath his tail. He bit back whimpers when his Dom began to fuck in earnest.

"That's right. I love it when jennies moan!" He huffed. "Whine for me."

Ishraq hovered on the precipice between pain and pleasure and liberally leaked a trail of pre. He was no stranger to sex with sizable furs, but horses and their kin tended to be larger than even he could handle. The rigid girth pressed against his prostate constantly and the sensation was punctuated every time the flared tip pulled or thrust past it. He was weak from the repeated use and his muscles cried out from the prolonged bondage. Horny from the display of the other criminals having their way with the bear, the equine thankfully didn't last long. His body tightened and shook, and his cock pulsed in time with his fluttering heartbeat as he unleashed a healthy load of donkey spunk into the ursine's heat. The semen gushed around his shaft and dripped in large droplets to the grass. Rather than pull out and step away, he remained buried in the helpless servant as he softened.

A fresh wave of warmth suddenly flooded into his ass and it took a moment for the bear to grasp what was happening. He realized at about the same time as the spectators what had occurred. A deluge of equine piss sloshed into him and mixed with the cum. He must've had a full bladder because he sighed with relief as he emptied himself and lasted a long while. Urine soon trickled out around his cock, joining the rivulets of semen. Most of the way through he withdrew and let the remainder of his steamy spray discharge into the grass between Ishraq's foot paws. Hot moisture splashed the bear's legs while the flow steadily abated. At the same time, Ishraq's gaping tailhole let the mixture of piss and cum spill out of him freely until only a small, damp trail of liquid remained.

"Good idea," the fennec said, "After all of those drinks I could stand to take a leak too."

He strode forward and pulled out his sheath, angling it directly at the slave's face. An arc of pale yellow piss splashed against his cheek and wet his face. The other's joined in too and he had a circle of anthro's showering him with acrid, salty streams of pee from every angle until his body was thoroughly soaked. He wasn't able to tell if his ex had taken part, but it didn't much matter at that point. He'd learned by now that as long as he was at Laurent's manor it would be his place to be pissed on.

Afterward, they resumed ignoring Ishraq and conversed for a short while longer before leaving in staggered groups.

The slave was left there, his damp fur growing cold as the piss cooled. He was exhausted and defeated, and angry with himself for occasionally even enjoying the treatment he received on a base level. It was far too long before he noticed Quiet sauntered across the lawn, a superior smirk plastered across his face. He unbound Ishraq, who had to stagger to a stand and fight his shaking legs to keep from stumbling into the grass. He lurched his way inside without a word to the hedgehog.

He turned toward his suite, wanting little more than to bath and crumple up on the floor. As he approached a corner he paused, hearing a familiar voice.

"We definitely have much to speak about. I have an idea that will be very lucrative for both of us. Your silent friend too, if he's interested. Call me."

It was the wild boar's voice, in a curiously hushed tone. Ishraq stood still as two sets of footfalls began, one heading away, the other toward him. Laurent's calico goon rounded the corner of the corridor and nearly ran face first into the imprisoned bear.

"Watch where you're going!" He admonished harshly, before sniffing the air and twisting his face into a malicious smile. He took in the servant and let out a cruel, harsh laugh. "You've had a morning, haven't you?" He added, before continuing on, lashing his tail behind him.

The ursine watched him stroll out of sight, wondering what the exchange was about. He nearly had a heart attack when he heard his owner's voice suddenly from directly behind him.

"You're spoiling my carpets. You should go bathe before I find further use of you."

When had he arrived? The bat was surprisingly stealthy. The knowledge put him eerily on edge.

"Sorry, Master!" He apologized quickly. "It won't happen again." The sun bear gave a slight bow and started to rush off, before he further raised the mobster's ire.

"For what it is worth, you make an appetizing canvas," Fabien said to him as he hurried away.

The words made him pause for a second. What a strange complement.

Once he made it to his chambers he saw no one else for the rest of the day.