FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The young rottweiler hunched over himself, his arms tucked in tightly against his chest and his hands wedged into his armpits as he huddled close to the side of the building. The thin, rain-soaked jacket clung to his pudgy physique and water dripped down his face. He shook his head, dislodging some of the raindrops that clung to his brow and ears, and looked up. With a sigh, he watched from his vantage point as others walked past with umbrellas and raincoats, blissfully unaware of the young man. He shifted his gaze from the sidewalk to the street, where cars sped through puddles and sent more water flying.

Tyler couldn't help but imagine how warm and comforting the interior of one of those vehicles would be right then--the heat turned on just enough to warm him up, a soft seat to lean back against, the rain lashing against the windshield instead of pelting against him, maybe some jazz playing on the stereo...a hand squeezing his knee or finding its way into his own, intertwining with his fingers...

He shook his head again, refusing to allow himself the pleasure of that particular vision. Not again, not after what had happened.

He shouldn't have been surprised it turned out this way. Tyler had been in this alley before, feeling sorry for himself and wishing it could have turned out differently. But it was always the same--sooner or later, everyone had their reasons for leaving him. They'd use him regularly at first, some of them fascinated by him, others pitying him, and some just wanting to get their rocks off. Josh, Will, Kayan, Henry, Mudit, Eric, Mike, Darius...the list went on and on. They were all patrons who'd started wanting more--maybe they were just lonely enough to want him around to feel better about themselves, or there was something "noble" about them taking him in and trying to "reform" him. But they all eventually found a reason to say, "This isn't working like I imagined it would, I'm tired of this, and I'm tired of you."

This time it had been Kassam who at least had the decency to drive Tyler back here before speeding off.

"Fucker," Tyler muttered, thinking of the tiger's strong arms wrapped around him, his rhythmic purring radiating throughout his body, his sharp teeth delicately nibbling at his throat...

The rain suddenly seemed much colder, and deciding to finally do something about his situation, Tyler reached into his bag and pulled out a sweatshirt--he tugged it on over his jacket, where the rain drenched it in seconds, but at least it was another layer.

Tyler sighed again; maybe it wasn't all bad, this could just be a temporary setback and he could get right back into the game, pick up business where he left off. Working the streets had always been a good revenue stream, and if past performance was any indicator, he'd have no trouble finding new clients.

But first he had to clean himself up. Tyler had visited the local shelter before--a free bowl of soup, some bread, and a shower were what he needed to feel better about presenting himself to customers. Still, it wasn't the same as having that one person he could feel comforted by.

As he trudged to the shelter, he couldn't help but feel as though someone was watching him. Perhaps a car was following, or someone was just outside of his peripheral vision, but Tyler couldn't shake the feeling that a pair of eyes were keeping him in their sights. He stopped and turned, scanning the pedestrians behind him--nobody jumped out at him, no familiar faces looked back him, it was just a bunch of tired and wet commuters going their own ways. Tyler huffed to himself and squared his shoulders--his mind must've been playing tricks on him.

--

"Here you go, baby, warm up," the matronly owl said as she gave the rottweiler his food and a shower card.

"Thanks," Tyler muttered, now walking for a table. He wanted an empty one, but the closest he could get was one in the corner with two rather burly sharks and a hyena--they looked like a close group, hunched over their food and quietly chatting with each other. It would probably be best not to disturb them, but their table was the emptiest, and even though his instincts told him to steer clear, Tyler padded over.

"Evening," he said casually to the group as he sat down with his bag and bowl.

One of the sharks did a double take as he looked at the pudgy rottweiler--the yellow sweater, still darkly soaked, wasn't what caught his attention, it was the tight, blue, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination shorts that drew his eye. The perfectly accentuated bulge in the boy's crotch, the bubble butt that looked just good enough to eat--it wasn't often a catch like this walked into the shelter, and he nudged to his companions and pointed it out.

Glances were exchanged--a cock of the head, a raised eyebrow, a wink, and finally a nod.

"Evening," the brown shark replied, scooting just a little closer to Tyler as he began to eat. "Didn't see the rain coming, huh?"

"Sorry? Oh, yeah, I guess not," Tyler replied sheepishly, gulping some of his soup down.

"Crazy how it just came down, out of nowhere," the shark continued. "We got in here right before it started."

"Lucky you," Tyler said, focusing on his soup.

"You got any dry clothes on you? Can't be fun being all wet like that," the grey shark piped up, starting to scoot a little closer to Tyler, too.

"Oh, yeah, just wanted some food first," the rottweiler answered.

"Smart, probably gonna grab a shower, too?" the grey shark asked.

Tyler shrugged.

"You want some company in there?" the hyena asked, leaning across the table.

Tyler fumbled with his spoon for a moment, certain he'd misheard the question. "Sorry?"

"Well, pretty little thing like you, you shouldn't be showering alone, right?" the hyena continued while the sharks closed in on the canine from both sides.

Tyler felt the heat rise in his face and swallowed. He hadn't been looking for something so soon, and he hadn't had a chance to clean up yet. "Well, I'm flattered, although right now--"

"No time like the present, right kid?" the hyena said. "Besides, you saw us and you came over. Obviously, there must be something you want, and soon. And judging from those clothes of yours, I think you came to the right table."

"I...think I might've given you the wrong idea," Tyler began. He started to stand. "I'll just go to another--"

That was all the sharks needed--as Tyler got to his feet, the sharks rose with him, pinning his arms to his sides so he couldn't pick up his food and his bag.

"Hey!" Tyler started, but one of the sharks held a hand over his mouth, muffling him.

"Shut it, slut, we'll take care of you," the hyena said, rising with the rest of the group.

Together, they slinked out of the cafeteria and made their way to the showers, the two sharks frog-marching Tyler, the hyena bringing up the rear and keeping a lookout. They entered the empty shower room and made for a secluded corner, where the sharks hurled Tyler bodily to the floor before pinning him down, the grey shark holding his arms above his head, the brown shark holding his legs firm, preventing him from escaping.

"Come on, let me go!" Tyler grunted.

"Oh, I don't think so, slut," the hyena said, now on his knees on top of the rottweiler. He shoved his hand into one of Tyler's pockets, groping for his shower card and pushing enough to roughly fondle the boy's sheathe and balls. "Judging by how you're filling out down there, I'd say you want this." The hyena winked and pulled out Tyler's card, then added it to his own collection of shower cards--all five that he had, he inserted into the slot on the wall next to them.

Meanwhile, the sharks kept Tyler pinned to the floor and undressed themselves, revealing their dual claspers, soft brown and grey skin, and some decent muscle-guts on both of them. Tyler had to admit, under normal circumstances, they would have been completely up his alley.

The hyena also undressed, revealing his speckled coat and more muscled form--obviously the streets kept him in very good shape. His cock had also fully emerged from his sheathe, and his balls hung low. "Now let's see all of you, kid," he said.

Tyler squirmed as the sharks tugged off his sweater and shorts, exposing his black and tan fur. The tip of his cock peeked out of his sheathe, and he saw the hyena's eyebrows rise as he looked him over.

The hyena wagged his tail, whistled low, and grinned as he surveyed his catch. "Those nipple piercings look like they're gonna be fun." He pressed a button on the wall above the slot for the shower cards, and the hot water started to run over the group

"Please, don't do this," Tyler whimpered as the hyena crawled on top of him again, this time resting firmly on his chest so his cock was positioned just in front of his mouth. Rivulets of water trickled down the hyena's torso, along his cock and balls, and onto Tyler.

"Shut up." The hyena leaned forward and held Tyler's head still in his hands, keeping direct eye contact with him. "We can do this one of two ways: you can either let us have our fun and enjoy yourself, too, or we can start breaking things and still have our fun. What's it gonna be?" the hyena asked.

Tyler hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth and held his tongue out. The hyena smiled.

"Good boy, you're getting it."

He started to press his cock against the tip of Tyler's tongue, where he tasted the acrid and musky remains of piss and sweat. He stopped before continuing, "If I feel teeth, if you even think of busting out of here, my buddies are going to break an arm and a leg, understand?"

Tyler nodded.

"Good bitch."

The hyena immediately pushed his cock forward into Tyler's mouth, stuffing himself to hilt--this was one of the rare instances where Tyler regretted the loss of his gag reflex, and the hyena understood the implications of what he was doing perfectly. "Damn, I'm gonna enjoy this!"

He held Tyler's head in place and began to thrust violently with his hips, using the boy's mouth as if it were nothing more than a fleshlight he could fuck with wild abandon. "Your throat's...like fucking...velvet," he grunted down at Tyler--the rottweiler felt the heat rise in his face at the compliment while he was being orally violated, and, with some shame, he felt a certain stirring in his loins. The hyena looked over at his compatriots. "Who wants to get at this bitch's hole?"

The sharks glanced at each other.

"I got him, you have some fun," the grey shark said.

The brown shark grinned toothily and chuckled to himself before releasing his grip on the rottweiler. He had been so focused on watching the action that he hadn't noticed something fun. "Boss, looks like the boy's really enjoying this!"

The hyena slowed down in his thrusting enough to turn his head and see what the shark was referring to--Tyler's cock had fully emerged and his knot had started to swell ever so slightly. "Fuck, looks like someone's got a hair trigger, huh?" he said mockingly to Tyler.

Tyler simply closed his eyes, willing himself out of the situation, imagining himself far away and safe.

SLAP--Tyler's eyes snapped open at the stinging on his face and he clenched his jaw for just a moment before remembering what was in his mouth.

"Look at me while I use you, slut, I want you to remember this," the hyena told him as his balls smacked against the boy's chin.

Meanwhile, the brown shark had moved further down to Tyler's ass--he pulled the rottweiler's legs apart, revealing his taint. The shark grunted to himself, he always loved this part. Taking Tyler's calves firmly in his hands, he pushed his legs up so his feet were in the air behind the hyena, exposing the canine's pucker. He shoved his face into the boy's ass, making Tyler squirm just a little, and pressed his tongue past the ring of flesh, tasting his insides and coating them with saliva. He lightly raked his teeth across Tyler's anus, relishing the shivers and shakes he felt in the boy's legs, before tongue-fucking him and loudly slurping on him.

The grey shark kept a tight grip on Tyler's wrists with one hand, while with his other he began to stroke his claspers. He loved watching his friends work, nothing turned him on more than seeing the two of them team up and go to town on some eager little slut like the one they'd just found.

The hyena, content that Tyler was watching him with his undivided attention, released his grip on the rottweiler's head--still thrusting into the boy's mouth and throat (he just loved how his snout pressed into his crotch every time he hilted himself in the canine), he reached back and groped for Tyler's nipples. His fingers alighted on one of the piercings and gently tugged on it.

Tyler moaned around the thick cock in his mouth and couldn't help but arch his back and push his hips up as his own cock twitched. The brown shark grinned to himself as he felt the movement in his hands--he kept his grip on Tyler's raised legs while he continued eating out the boy like a free buffet.

"Mmm, there's something else this slut likes," the hyena murmured. He leaned his head back, letting the hot shower water run over his face while he enjoyed the best blowjob he'd had in months. He'd stopped thrusting so quickly, now he was just enjoying the moment, still playing with the rottweiler's nipples, all while moaning and groaning to himself as he felt every bump and ridge of Tyler's mouth, tongue, and throat. He could feel Tyler moving under him, probably overwhelmed by all the sensations he felt in his mouth, nipples, crotch, and ass--the wet slurping sounds from the shark eating him out were certainly helping with the ambience. He kept it up for another couple of minutes, working himself up more and more, before finally asking, "Got him loosened up enough back there?"

The brown shark pulled out his tongue and laughed. "He was more than loose enough before I got back here, I was just enjoying myself."

The hyena popped his cock out of Tyler's mouth, leaving the boy panting as he said, "Well someone took their sweet time. Let's switch it up."

With the grey shark still holding Tyler by the wrists, the brown shark and the hyena swapped positions and forced Tyler onto his hands and knees--now the hyena was kneeling behind Tyler, lining up his cock with the boy's hole under his docked tail. The grey shark had Tyler's face in his hands and had shoved his claspers into the boy's mouth, while the brown shark was positioned under Tyler, his hands pulling down on the rottweiler's waist so he could suck the boy's hard and throbbing cock.

Throughout all this, Tyler kept his eyes open, and while the scene played before him and he felt the thick hyena cock push deep into him with no effort at all, his mind thought back to the cars he had been envisioning himself in earlier. He didn't hear the plap, plap, plap of the hyena's balls smacking against his own, he didn't care about the thick dual claspers filling his mouth and throat, he felt no fear about shark teeth grazing his cock...

He was driving somewhere, far away. The windows were down, the sun was shining, music was playing on the radio, the highway was running along the ocean, and he was going to meet someone at his destination: someone who would always be happy to see him, someone who would take him into his arms and never let him go, someone who would take care of him, someone he could rely on, someone who could protect him from terrible things...that's who he was going to meet, he was getting away from every awful situation and terrible person he'd ever met.

Tyler was so lost in his reverie that he didn't hear the footsteps echo against the wet tile walls and floor. He didn't see the shadow looming over the gang rape, and he didn't hear the shark violating his mouth grunt, "The fuck are you?"

What he did feel was the sudden pop of the hyena's cock being pulled out of him. He heard the smacks of flesh hitting flesh before it hit the tile. He felt the sudden removal of the claspers from his mouth as the shark was pulled away. And he was back and fully present enough to be aware that the brown shark under him had pushed him off, so he tumbled onto his back to see the shark running out of the shower room while his two compatriots were slumped in another corner, out cold.

Tyler turned his head to see the dark form that had entered--he blinked the running water out of his eyes and saw that a tall, built bull with impressive horns had come to his rescue. He wore a grey--now wet--suit with a black shirt, and his dark hair was cropped close to his head.

"Are you alright?" the bull asked, his voice deep and soothing like honey.

Tyler nodded, only now feeling the soreness in his mouth and ass. His cock was still firmly erect, his knot fully swollen.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'll be a friend if you'll let me," the bull said. "My name's Ray, but everybody calls me Coach. I've been watching you for a while now, Tyler."

Ray extended his meaty hand and, gingerly, Tyler took it to be helped to his feet.

"You've been watching me? Why?" the rottweiler asked. "Wait, why didn't you stop those assholes sooner?"

The bull looked down at the floor, shamefaced. "I lost you for a while, I was getting ready to contact you and I had trouble relocating you. I'm sorry about that, all this never should have happened."

"Well, it's a little late for 'sorry,' it happened," Tyler told him, his arms folded.

"You're right," Ray agreed. "But I'm hoping I might be able to make it up to you--that kind of thing never has to happen to you again. I can get you out of here."

Tyler paused for a moment, then he realized what the bull was saying. "Oh no, you can save it, I've heard it before. Let me take care of you, I can take you away from all this, I want to help you--it's a little creepy that you added the whole 'I've been watching you,' that's a new one, but I'm not interested."

Ray held up his hands. "No, no, I'm sorry, that's not the impression I--let me start again. I represent a rehabilitation group. Not in the traditional sense, it's not a 12-step program or anything like that. Oh wait, here--" Ray paused and went to one of the shelves that held stacks of folded towels. He grabbed one and continued, "Our group sees a lot of potential individuals like you, where we help you get a clean, fresh start, and can help you really be...well, happy." Ray unfolded the towel and draped it around Tyler's shoulders. "It's part job, part lifestyle for people like you who..."

"Who don't have much going for them," Tyler finished, drying off his face.

Ray nodded. "And we'd love to work with you, help you out, and make you a real asset to us, to others, and to yourself. Your life doesn't have to be like...this." He gestured at the shower room and the shark and hyena still slumped in the corner.

Tyler pondered his words as he rubbed the towel across his back and chest--this wasn't what he'd expected after all. "This isn't some kind of faith program or cult, right?"

"Nope, full transparency, what you see is what you get, no hokey prayer time or anything like that." Ray smiled. "Although you might have some time for self-reflection and meditation, if that's something you want to take up, but it's not required at all."

The rottweiler pursed his lips as he finished drying off and wrapped the towel around his waist, his stomach slightly spilling over the edge of the towel. "Well, it sounds nice, but I don't know if that's exactly what I'm wanting."

Ray's smile lingered for a moment, then he sighed and nodded. "It might help if I stop dancing around the issue. You've been wanting that one person to spend the rest of your life with, haven't you? Sure, it's nice to bring in business and use your body to please others, but you want stability, you want permanence, you want something truly exclusive. We can give that to you, if that's what exactly what you want."

Now this truly stopped Tyler. He stared at the bull.

"I know what you're thinking--how did he know? How could he have possibly known that is 100%, to the letter, what I want?" Ray stated. The shower alarm began to go off, alerting them that the water was about to stop. "I've been where you are right now, Tyler. I've been on the corners, I've been in the dingy motels and guest bedrooms, I've been on the couches and the restaurants, I've heard the same conversations about moving in and being together forever, and I've been in the dark situations, too. I've been through the patterns over and over again, just like you have--that tiger today was just the last in a long, long cycle. And I wanted exactly what you want, too. I got it--it took work, but I got it, and I want to help someone get it, too. You deserve so much more than what you have right now, Tyler. We can get you off the streets and into a home, into something you truly want. You can truly belong to someone, be theirs, and theirs alone. We can make that happen."

The water finally stopped flowing while Ray spoke, and as the remaining drops hit the floor and gurgled down the drain, Tyler asked, "Who's 'we'? Who do you work for?"

Ray reached into his coat breast pocket and pulled out a purple card with white script letting on it, which he handed to Tyler.

"Clean Steam, Inc.?"

"Think of us as a cleaner; we can wash away the grime, buff out the dents, fill in the cracks, and make you shine," said Ray.

"And what do you get out of it?"

Ray smiled. "Good question. Our benefactors are angel investors--they just want to help people, they don't want anything from you, my boss doesn't want anything from you, and I don't want anything from you. This is just an opportunity to help people like yourself. As hard as it might be to believe, some people enjoy helping others just for the sake of doing it."

Tyler nodded and tapped the card against his fingers, thinking.

"We want to help you get exactly what you want, Tyler. What do you say?"

The rottweiler looked around, hesitant.

"It's not like you're going to find better here, are you?"

Tyler looked the bull in the eye. He seemed earnest, sincere...affectionate and truly wanting to help him turn his life around. "I'm in."

Ray smiled. "That's great to hear, I'm glad you're on board. We've had our eyes on you for some time, it would be best for us to get out of here as soon as possible."

Tyler nodded and started for his discarded clothes, but the bull cleared his throat.

"What is it?" Tyler asked.

"Well, part of what we do is a completely fresh start, nothing but the skin and fur on your back," Ray said. "So, you won't need your clothes or belongings--we'll take care of your ID and wallet and all that."

"Oh, alright."

"And we can't have you coming out of here like that," Ray said, nodding at the obviously erect cock hidden by the towel around Tyler's waist. "We work to be very discreet, so we'll need to take care of that while we're here."

Tyler's eyebrows rose as he looked down. He'd almost forgotten how hard he was, his knot had yet to soften up. "Oh...should I just do it myself, or..."

"Would you like me to?" Ray asked, taking a step forward.

Tyler blushed and hesitantly nodded. The bull smiled down at him and put a hand on his chest.

"I'll be very gentle. Why don't you close your eyes," Ray suggested. Tyler looked up at him, unsure. "Go on, close 'em, I'm right here. I won't let anything happen to you."

Tyler nodded and slowly shut his eyes. He heard a shuffling of clothing as Ray got down on his knees, keeping his hand on his chest. Tyler leaned into it, grateful for the steadying presence of the bull holding his hand on him.

"Imagine anything you want," Ray said softly, his hand rising and falling with Tyler's every breath. He used his other hand to lightly grip the corner of the towel that had been tucked around the boy's waist. "Wherever you want to be, somewhere with sunshine, somewhere you can just be completely at ease."

Tyler smiled to himself, thinking of a beach somewhere, as the towel around his waist dropped, revealing his thick, throbbing, knotted cock to the bull.

"You're somewhere else, exactly where you want to be, with exactly that one person you want to be with," Ray murmured, breathing heavily on the canine's cock. He slid his hand down from Tyler's chest and to his hip, positioning his other hand on the other side, and pulled Tyler's hips forward, sinking the cock in his mouth up to the knot.

Tyler moaned as Ray's long tongue wrapped around his cock. Ray pressed against all the right spots and slid his tongue up and down the length of the hard member as he sucked, creating an intense vacuum. He hummed lightly, the vibrations in his throat and jaw buzzing into Tyler's flesh. The rottweiler, his eyes still closed, instinctively reached out for something to brace himself on. Ray noticed this and moved his head up and forward so his horns met Tyler's hands. The boy grabbed onto the bull's horns and Ray settled back into a more comfortable position, pulling Tyler's hands forward so he was leaning slightly over the bull's head.

He heard Tyler's breathing pick up in pace--the poor boy was getting close, he'd been on the edge for a while now. Ray upped the pressure of his tongue on Tyler's cock and slurped hard on it before he pulled the rottweiler's hips closer to him and engulfed Tyler completely in his mouth. The tip of Tyler's cock slid down Ray's throat, and Ray caressed the knot with his tongue while his jaws, protected by his lips, clamped around the base, and he breathed into Tyler's groin as he sucked more.

"Ooooh ffffffuuuuuuck!" Knotting the bull's mouth was enough to send Tyler over the edge; the extra treatment was enough to make him see stars behind his eyelids as he came. He shot hard against the back of Ray's throat, gritting his teeth and moaning as he held on tight to the bull's horns and tried to control his humping. Ray just stayed still, taking it all and swallowing each pulse of cum with ease. He squeezed the knot between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, building the pressure little by little as Tyler rode out his orgasm and throbbed with each shot. He added extra pressure against the base of Tyler's knot, almost pulling his cock out even more, which coaxed more moaning and cum from the boy.

The stream of cum eventually abated and Ray gently began to release some of the pressure. When his mouth had equalized, he pulled back from Tyler's still twitching cock and looked up with a smile. Tyler still had his hands on his horns and was panting, and his eyes were open again.

"That was...that was..." was all he could manage.

"It was good for me, too," Ray chuckled deeply. He licked his lips and looked at Tyler's cock, which was starting to soften up and his knot had begun to contract. "Looks like we can get you out of here soon--think you can stand on your own?"

Tyler hastily removed his hands from Ray's horns. "O-oh yeah, sorry about--"

"Don't be, love having someone use my handles like that." Ray winked and stood up again. He picked the towel up from the floor and rewrapped it around Tyler's waist. "I think those two are going to be waking up soon," he muttered. "Time for us to make our exit."

Tyler took a deep breath, stabilizing himself, and nodded. Keeping one hand on his towel to prevent it from falling, he let Ray take his other hand and lead him out of the shower room. He followed him down the hall, just one step behind the bull. The halls were mercifully empty, and Ray took Tyler through to a maintenance corridor, where they passed through a boiler room before he opened a door on the far wall. The door opened onto the alley behind the shelter, where a black van with darkened windows sat in the rain. Ray paused before they walked outside.

"If you have any doubts or want to stop, this is your chance. No harm done if you want to say no, it's alright. But once we start the process, there's no stopping. Do you want this?" the bull asked.

Tyler looked back at the shelter, then past Ray at the van. Even though he couldn't see inside the vehicle, the thought of those soft seats, the heater running just enough to keep him warm, the rain beating the window shield instead of against his face, a hand softly holding his knee...

"I'm ready," he said.

Ray smiled at him and, using his coat as a makeshift umbrella for the rottweiler, escorted Tyler to the van. The door rolled open and Tyler hopped in--the interior was even cushier than he imagined. Buttery leather seats, gentle lighting, dark walnut paneling with creamy carpeting, soft music, bottles of water and snacks within easy reach; the boy smiled to himself as Ray joined him in the back of the van. The door rolled shut again, and the driver, hidden behind a carpeted partition, slowly pulled away from the shelter. The windows were blocked from the inside too, although Tyler didn't much care about where he was going, he was just glad to be getting away from where he'd been.

While Tyler helped himself to a bottle of water and a pack of cookies, Ray pulled out a black leather padfolio and opened it to reveal a thick document and a pen, which he placed on the foldout table between their seats. Tyler swallowed his mouthful of cookies and water and looked down at the heading of the document: CLEAN STEAM, INC., MASTER SERVICE AGREEMENT.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Your contract," Ray said as he opened a bottle of water for himself. He took a swig and continued, "Pretty boilerplate legal agreement stuff, although the highlights are that you'd be allowing us to use advanced stimulation and training techniques for rehabilitation, granting us temporary power of attorney while we're helping you get your affairs in order, signing a non-disclosure agreement, and agreeing to leasing conditions, as you'd be staying on our campus while we help you. You can read through it if you like, although if you're still on board, we'll need you to sign sooner rather than later, it's a pretty long drive to our facilities."

Tyler skimmed through the first few pages, and while nothing jumped out at him, a sudden thought came to mind. "This isn't like...I'm committing myself to an institution of some kind, am I?"

Ray shook his head vigorously. "Not at all, you're welcome to break the contract at any time you choose, although any progress you make will be reverted, so it's important to think about your future while you're with us."

Tyler flipped through a few more pages. An alarm chime sounded somewhere and he looked around for the source of the sound.

"Sorry, that's me, gotta take a vitamin," Ray said, tapping his watch. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small pill bottle. "I'm on a pretty strict diet, and supplements help me get what I need."

"Does that diet include rottweiler cum?" Tyler asked with a smirk.

Ray chuckled as he opened the pill bottle. "I like to have my cheat days every now and then." He tipped a pill into his hand and put it in his mouth before swallowing it down with another swig of water. As he stowed his pill bottle again, he asked, "Any questions about the contract?"

Tyler looked back down at the stack of papers and the small writing--at this point, he was already in the van and on his way, so he might as well sign them. "Do I need to sign every page?"

The bull quickly pulled all the pages away except for the last one. "Just your name and date on the dotted line there, and we're good to go."

With a quick scribble of the pen, Tyler wrote his signature and the date, then put the pen down. Ray put the contract papers back on top of the signature form and closed the padfolio. "Alright, we're good to go! There are plenty of other snacks and drinks, if you like, and we can watch a movie along the way."

"There's no orientation video or anything?" Tyler asked as he opened another packet of cookies and scarfed them down.

"You'll get plenty of orientation when we get to campus," Ray replied. "Might want to enjoy the ride while you can."

They briefly debated on which movie to watch before Ray pressed a control and a television screen rolled down in front of the partition. While the bull scrolled though their options and asked for opinions, Tyler ate two more packs of cookies and shared a sandwich with his host. It took another twenty minutes of talking and debating, but by the time they finally settled on a choice, Tyler was feeling properly content and relaxed, while Ray seemed fully wired and ready to watch. By the time the opening logos and credits began to roll, Tyler was yawning and feeling drowsy--it had been a long day, after all, with plenty of stress, and he could finally unwind. Within the first 10 minutes of the movie's opening action, his eyes were closed and he was leaning back in his seat, blissfully unaware of anything and everything.

--

When Tyler opened his eyes, it took him a moment to realize he wasn't in the van; he wasn't even sitting down. He was leaning back against a wall of some kind, and in front of him was...was that glass?

He yawned and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. Things were still foggy for him, but he blearily peered through the clear barrier in front of him and saw that he was in a dark warehouse of some kind. He blinked again, clearing his eyes and willing his brain to work, and he noticed for the first time that he was strapped down to something--thick black bands held his wrists, arms, legs, ankles, torso, and waist firmly against a gurney that was leaned back against whatever structure he was in. It was a tube container of some kind, with green LEDs blinking softly around the glass enclosure.

The gurney itself wasn't too uncomfortable, like a padded leather cushion that had conformed to his body and provided just the right support to keep him upright. Tyler looked down at his right forearm and saw an IV needled had been inserted there. He felt his chest constrict--not from the bands around his body, but from panic. What had happened? Last he remembered, he'd been in the van with Ray and...wait, where was Ray?

Tyler peered through the glass front of the tank he was in and began to properly process what he was seeing. Rows of lights hanging high from the warehouse ceiling illuminated the row of tanks in front of him, each containing an individual--there was a nude kangaroo in the tank directly opposite him, suspended in translucent purple liquid that pulsed with lights. The kangaroo's cock was fully erect and looked thicker and longer than average, and his balls seemed unusually plump. He wore a featureless, convex mask of some kind that prevented Tyler from seeing his face--a hose ran from the mask to an unseen connection somewhere in the top of the tank, and in the kangaroo's arm was an IV with a clear line attached to it.

He looked to his left: floating in another tank of translucent purple liquid was a nude bear, also with a raging erection, larger than average balls, a mask, and an IV line. On his right: a nude lion, although this one wore a chastity cage.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck..." Tyler breathed, beginning to hyperventilate.

The softly blinking LEDs in Tyler's tank turned white, and began to brighten, fully illuminating his tank so he could see he was still naked. On either side of the gurney he was strapped to, Tyler saw what looked like two closed vents.

A rabbit and a raccoon, both in lab coats, emerged into view from the side of the glass enclosure. They each carried tablets that illuminated the undersides of their faces, and were talking to each other, but the tank was soundproofed enough to prevent Tyler from understanding what they were saying; to him, it was just soft muffling.

"Hey! Hey! Please, let me out of here!" Tyler yelled at them. "Let me out, come on!"

The two scientists kept talking with each other, but they looked at him with interest. They watched him, continuing their conversation while Tyler kept yelling at them.

"You fuckers, come on, let me out! I'll kill you, let me out of here!"

The rabbit shrugged and said something, and the racoon looked down at his tablet and tapped something. The LEDs turned from white to blue and began to blink, then white again. Speakers mounted somewhere behind Tyler's ears played a soft tone, and then a message in a deep male voice:

"Welcome to Clean Steam, Inc. Please relax as we complete your intake process. No harm will come to you, although we will need you to comply with our procedures that you consented to. We hope you enjoy your stay with us, and we look forward to enabling you to be your best self for our customers."

"What the fuck," Tyler moaned. He tried pulling at his restraints, but they wouldn't budge.

At the sound of a mechanical "whir", Tyler looked up to see a panel above open, and a robotic arm with a clear, concave, plastic shell and tubing on it descended in front of him--he realized it was one of the masks that he had seen in the other tanks, and he was meant to wear this one.

"No, no, no, stop, please stop," Tyler pleaded as he squirmed, moving his head around to prevent the arm and mask from hitting its target.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the raccoon outside tap something on his tablet: the tube in the mask suddenly extended further, while the robotic arm began to move more quickly, matching Tyler's movements. Without warning, the tube in the mask shot forward and hit what it was aiming for: Tyler's mouth.

"Mmph!" he grunted.

The tube darted past his lips, flattened his tongue, and snaked down his throat. While that stunned the rottweiler for a moment, the mask quickly slipped forward along the tubing and attached itself to him, conforming perfectly to his face and head--it sealed against him with a hiss. Tyler shook his head, but the mask was stuck fast, and tube in his throat wasn't going anywhere.

Through the clear plastic, Tyler saw the robotic arm fold back to the top of his tank and disappear in the panel above him. The tube connecting his mask to the panel stayed in place, and somehow, Tyler felt his breathing begin to slow, and his pulse begin to go down. Something was already feeding into the mask that was calming him down.

He then felt pressure in his arm where the IV was, and he looked down to see that a clear liquid had already started traveling through the intravenous line and into him. Tyler looked up again and saw the rabbit typing something on his tablet. He wanted to yell at the scientists again, but the hose in his mouth and throat prevented him for making a sound. He slumped back against the comfortable gurney, defeated.

He didn't even see the raccoon tap on his tablet, but he saw the effect in the tank: by his feet, the four vents opened, and translucent liquid began streaming up from the openings. Tyler didn't even try to squirm away from it--he half expected it to be cold water of some kind, but when he felt it first touch his feet, he felt a warm, heavy sensation; this was a much more viscous goo than he'd first thought, almost like liquid silicone. The liquid kept filling the tank, moving up his legs and torso, arms, and chest. Tyler subconsciously took a breath as the liquid level rose to his mask and above his face, but the hose supplied air for him to breathe normally. The liquid filled his ears, deadening all noise around him.

The world outside the tank looked so much blurrier now with whatever was in his system, the goo, and the mask. Tyler blinked as the LED light cycled through a series of colors and patterns, distracting him momentarily before he noticed that the scientists were gone. A tune began to play in the speakers behind his ears--he'd thought he'd heard it somewhere before. The lights began to dim, then they turned a pale yellow, making it look like Tyler was in a tank full of thick piss.

The straps around his body began to unbuckle themselves and retract into slots in the gurney, and Tyler felt himself start to float just enough to be neutrally buoyant, hanging just above the gurney but not floating to the top of the tank. He didn't feel any desire to try pulling the mask away from his face, he didn't try pushing against the glass of his tank; he just wanted to float undisturbed, to settle into a natural position and let the world pass him by with the gentle pressure of the liquid pressing against him. As he settled--slightly hunched over and breathing in a significantly slower rhythm--he realized he recognized the tune that was playing in his tank speakers: it was the same tune that Ray had hummed lightly while sucking him off in the shower. Tyler thought back to that encounter: it felt like it had been a lifetime ago, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours, could it? Tyler realized that, as the tune began to recede into silence, his mask began to fog up, and small white lights illuminated around the perimeter of the seal, he didn't much care about anything anymore; he just wanted to sleep.

Soon the mask turned completely opaque and the lights within it dimmed to nothing, and he was immersed in darkness, the mask shutting out the world around him completely. He could have been floating in outer space, lost in a void somewhere, with no contact at all, except...

There was a new sound playing through the liquid. Tyler could tell that it was muffled at first, but it was getting louder, and there was a rhythm to it--it was repeating something.

"Your name is no longer Tyler. You can have three names: Slave, Son, or Boy. You live only to serve your master in whatever needs he wishes of you. Your name is no longer Tyler. You can have three names: Slave, Son, or Boy. You live only to serve your master in whatever needs he wishes of you."

The message repeated on and on--Tyler let it into his brain as long as it went on. He drifted into a space that was somewhere just on the edge of sleep, somewhere restorative where he wanted for nothing, just for the message to keep playing, soothing him. He needed no sustenance, no cleaning, no bathroom breaks--all he felt was just the constant internalization of that information until Tyler was so comfortable with the message that it simply became the only thing in his head. It eventually changed to, "You can have three names: Slave, Son, or Boy. You live only to serve your master in whatever needs he wishes of you." There was no mention of Tyler, because there was no Tyler, there never had been any Tyler. Just a sweet, loyal rottweiler with an empty brain.

For how long this went on, the rottweiler didn't know. It could have been days, weeks, months...maybe even years, for all he knew. And he didn't know--he didn't care.

He didn't care when the tube in his mouth and throat eventually seemed to thicken more and more, making his jaw and esophageal muscles looser and ridding him permanently of his gag reflex.

He didn't care when other tubes eventually somehow found their way into his ass and injected it with chemicals to keep it perfectly tight, while the tubes pounded back and forth, enhanced with additional drugs, creating a perpetual rosebud he could push out on command.

He didn't care when another couple of IVs were eventually inserted in his cock and testicles, delivering medications and hormones to make them grow to new sizes and more sensitive--all he felt then was pure bliss as his tank forced him to have erection after erection, testing and retesting his larger and larger knot.

He didn't care that his nerves were eventually overwritten to modify his senses of taste and smell to make him crave cum and musk.

He didn't care that his sense of touch was eventually altered to make his whole body so hyperalert that the slightest caress would bring him pure pleasure.

He didn't care that eventually the neural pathways connecting his ears and reproductive system to his brain were so drastically reconfigured that he wouldn't be able to ejaculate without hearing a command or that he had permission to.

He didn't care that his brain chemistry was eventually reformulated to promote dopamine production so he would feel rewarded at the smallest possible opportunity.

It didn't matter to him at all that his identity was being stripped away, bit by bit, and remolded in this tank, just like all the others in the tanks adjacent to him. None of that mattered; the only things that mattered were the messages that imprinted themselves on his brain, the constant stream of comforting, compelling words emanating from the speakers and pushing past his ears, to nestle themselves in the core of his grey matter. "You love to suck cock. You love being fucked. You love to suck cock. You love being fucked. You're willing to do anything to please your owner. You love being a good boy for your owner. You're willing to do anything to please your owner. You love being a good boy for your owner." The rottweiler didn't mind any of this; in fact, over time he grew to enjoy it. His imprinted training included basic obedience, knowledge of most sexual positions (he should still be able to learn from his new owner), intuiting body language, increased pain desire and tolerance, arousal on command, and willingness to follow all orders within reason--self-preservation was still an important value that remained. At the very least, the rottweiler would make an excellent drone, and he'd be thrilled about it.

--

In the darkness, he felt something around his wrists, arms, legs, ankles, torso, and waist, like a bunch of little embraces. They tugged against him, pulling him out of his natural state and back towards something soft, something so wonderfully soft that he could lie back against with no effort. Stars began to wink into existence in front of him--no, they were lights, all around the thing in front of his face. What was it? The rottweiler didn't know, but he liked wearing it, it made him feel safe and secure, just like the tube in his mouth and throat he happily suckled on.

As the lights in front of him grew brighter, he felt something warm and heavy draining away from him, settling him down further into his new position on the gurney. As his tank fluid drained from his ears, he heard a loud fan and felt warm air circulating against his body. The liquid continued to drain, exposing his fur to the drying fan.

The mask he wore began to grow pale, then a foggy translucent, then it cleared, becoming completely transparent, and the young rottweiler looked down to see his tank fluid receding completely into the vents in the floor of his storage unit. As he looked down, he surveyed his body: a firm muscle-gut had filled in his stomach, and soft, bouncy pecs adorned his chest--he remembered that his nipples were pierced, and he was glad to see the piercings still there, gleaming in the light of his tank. His legs had grown thick and muscled, as had his arms. There was no IV stuck in his forearm, although he wouldn't have minded. He experimentally thrust his hips back and forth to wag his considerably weighty balls and sheathe. He grinned at the sight--he would have grinned no matter what his body had looked like, he was conditioned to enjoy the view.

When his fur felt completely dry and the fan stopped, he looked up from his body at the glass front of his tank. The rottweiler saw that he was in a white room with a few fuck benches, slings, workout equipment, a display case full of dildos, whips, chains, electro-stim equipment, cock and ball torture devices, and more. And then, walking around from the side of his tank and emerging into view was a very familiar bull wearing a grey suit with a black shirt and carrying a tablet.

The rottweiler's eyebrows rose, he smiled widely around the tube in his mouth, and he felt his docked tail wag hard. He knew this bull! And he wanted nothing more than to please the bull and be a good boy for him--showing how eager he was would be the best first step.

The bull smiled at him and spoke--the rottweiler heard his voice emanate through the speakers behind him. "Glad to see you recognize me, boy. Hang tight while I get you out of there."

The rottweiler nodded and obediently held still as the bull tapped on the tablet, although the canine's heart hammered in his chest--he was so excited!

In his throat, the rottweiler felt the tube shrink and contract, and it smoothly retracted until it was completely out of his mouth, but still attached to his mask. Above his head, a panel opened and a robotic arm gracefully descended to grip the mask. The rottweiler felt it apply pressure and, with a faint pop, the seal around his face broke, and the arm pulled the mask away. The arm then folded back up into the panel. The bull tapped again on his tablet, and with a pneumatic hiss, the glass enclosure slid out of view and into its housing on the backside of the tank.

"There, that's got to be better now, right boy?" the bull asked.

The rottweiler opened his mouth, but hesitated.

The bull noticed this and said into the tablet, "Needs some extra conditioning time, a little too willing to talk." Now addressing the rottweiler, he said, "It's okay, boy. Speak."

"I'm so glad to see you, Coach!" the rottweiler said immediately with a smile.

"Hey, that's a good puppy," the bull said. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and then we're going to have a little fun, okay?"

"Yessir!"

"Wanna tell me your name?"

The rottweiler paused. "Is it Boy?"

"Very good, that's right," Coach said encouragingly.

The rottweiler smiled in pleasure, he was so glad to have gotten it right. It didn't matter what his name was, whatever his owner called him would be his name.

"Can you tell me what day it is?"

The canine shook his head. "No sir."

"Do you care what day it is?"

The rottweiler couldn't help but show a doofy smile. "No sir!"

"That's what I like to hear. Wanna tell me who I am?" the bull asked.

"You're my coach, Coach!"

"That's right. Do you know why I'm your coach?" Coach continued.

The rottweiler shook his head again. "No sir."

"Around here, every supervisor is called Coach--we're the coaches for our subjects. I'm yours, and I'm going to make sure your training is sticking or if you need more. And then once we finish our little session, I'm going to pair you up with one of our clients."

"Do you mean Clean Steam's clients, sir?" the rottweiler asked.

The bull frowned momentarily, and the rottweiler bowed his head and pinned his ears back as he felt deep shame. He wanted to make things better, how could he do that? Anything to make the guilt go away, it was awful.

Coach noticed the canine's reaction and smiled again. "It's okay, boy, it's okay, it just means you need a little more training and time in the tank. You like the tank, don't you?"

"Yessir!" the rottweiler said immediately, perking up at the bull's deep, soothing tone. It was alright, they could fix his mistake, he could be happy again.

"Subject still retains aspects of memory and asks questions unprompted, needs further conditioning," Coach noted to the tablet again. He then looked up at the rottweiler again. "Think you're ready for some games, boy?"

"Yessir!"

The bull tapped a button on the tablet and the canine's restraints unbuckled themselves, then slid back into their slots. The rottweiler didn't move though, instead he patiently waited for his next instruction.

"Let's get you on that fuck bench over there," the bull said, pointing at the padded leather bench next to the display case of other sexual accoutrements.

The rottweiler nodded and stepped out of his tank. He padded over to the bench and laid face-down on it, resting his arms and legs on the raised attachments. His lower half hung off the end, and he couldn't help but wag his tail as he heard Coach walk over to him. He whined in anticipation as the bull buckled on the wrist and ankle restraints, holding him fast against the bench. Coach then knelt down behind him, staring at his pendulous balls.

"Alright boy, get hard for me," the bull commanded.

The words had their desired effect--in a moment, Coach saw the rottweiler's girthy cock press outward from his sheathe. It drooped down with the force of gravity as it swelled with blood and hormones, leaving his knot still just barely tucked in his sheathe. Coach reached out and squeezed, causing the canine on the fuck bench to whine again. "Good boy, that's what I like to see." Coach released the cock and began to lightly smack the balls. "How's that feel, pup?"

"So good, sir, I love it!" came the enthusiastic reply.

"And this?" The smacks grew harder and louder.

"Arf! Oh yessir, that feels amazing."

"Here comes a big one, boy," the bull said. He stopped smacking, pulled his hand back, and forcefully slapped the rottweiler's balls.

The boy jumped in his restraints and howled. "Ooooh fuck sir, that was so good!"

Coach flapped his hand to reduce the sting of the slap--he was impressed the rottweiler could take that much already. "Alright boy, now why don't you show me that rosebud of yours?"

He watched as the rottweiler relaxed his hole, making it gape for a moment before clenching the muscles deep within and pushing out--the bright red prolapse was just big enough for most clients to enjoy, and small enough to encourage other clients to want to work on it more. The bull fingered it for a moment. "Very good, boy, let's push that back in," he said, pressing on it as the rottweiler relaxed again and let the rosebud back inside.

The bull stood and walked to the display cabinet. The rottweiler kept his eyes forward, not wanting to disappoint his coach with a stray glance when he should be staring straight ahead. He heard the display cabinet doors open, then the sound of a couple items removed from the shelves, and then the doors closed again. He heard the bull set something down lightly on the floor behind him, and then the sound of fingers tapping on wood.

Silence. Nothing but the sound of two people breathing in a room.

SMACK.

"Awroooooooooo!" the rottweiler howled as the paddle made contact with his exposed ass cheeks.

"You want more, bitch?" the bull asked harshly.

"Yes please, Coach!"

SMACK.

He howled again when the paddle hit the exact same stinging spot that overlapped both cheeks.

"You liked that, didn't you, pup!" It wasn't a question.

"Yessir!"

"Count down from ten for me, boy."

SMACK. Right cheek.

"Ten, sir!"

SMACK. Left cheek.

"Nine, sir!"

SMACK. Right thigh.

"Eight, sir!"

SMACK. Left thigh.

"Seven, sir!"

SMACK. Both cheeks.

"Six, sir!"

SMACK. Right cheek.

"Five, sir!"

SMACK. Left cheek.

"Four, sir!"

SMACK. Right thigh.

"Three, sir!"

SMACK. Left thigh.

"Two, sir!"

SMACK. Both cheeks.

"One, sir!"

SMACK. Balls.

"Awrooooooooo!"

"Goooooood boooooy!" the bull yelled over the rottweiler's howling. He rubbed the paddle on the boy's back while his subject breathed heavily, shivering not in pain, but in pleasure. After a moment's respite, the bull discarded the paddle and picked up second item he'd selected from the cabinet.

The rottweiler heard the flick of a cap opening, and then cold, wet fingers prodding at his hole, smearing lube around the rim and pushing it inside him.

"You know I'm going to need to see how tight you are now," the bull said as he continued lubing up the rottweiler's hole.

The boy arched his back at the treatment, the sting on cheeks and balls receding in his memory. All he cared about now was the fingering he felt, and soon...

Coach finished with the lube, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his own cock. Thick bull meat flopped out, ready to sink into warm canine. The bull heard the boy whine again as he held a hand on his hip to line up his cock with the hole before him. Coach rested his cockhead on the rim of the gaping hole.

"Tell me how much you love my dick," Coach said.

"I love your dick I want it in me all day and all night, sir," the rottweiler replied.

"Tell me what a good slave you are."

"I live to please my master."

"Tell me you want me."

"I belong to you, Coach, my guts need to get filled with your seed, I need to be bred by you so badly. Please fuck me, Coach."

With a grunt, the bull sank into the rottweiler--he still didn't know how the science worked and what chemicals the boys in the lab were cooking up, but right then, he didn't care; the rottweiler was as tight as an ass that had never seen so much as a butt plug, and yet he managed to hilt himself completely, his balls making contact with the canine's.

"Oooh, fuck yes, daddy," the rottweiler moaned, clenching even tighter around Coach's cock.

The bull pulled back, then thrust again, slowly at first, then picking up the tempo, grunting as he worked., plunging himself into the boy's hole again and again, relishing the wet plapping sounds and the rottweiler's continued moans and begging.

"Please, deeper, Coach! You're so thick...mmm, that's the spot right there, Coach...oh fuck me..."

Coach was happy to oblige the boy, it was something he'd worked so hard and waited for. This was the best reward he could think of, getting his insides rearranged by his coach after spending so long in the tank. "Oh, you're gonna make someone very happy, kid," he groaned as he hilted himself in the rottweiler's perfect ass again and again. He thrusted so vigorously the fuck bench below the rottweiler began to move with each pump. And he couldn't help but notice that the boy below him was just as tight as ever--there was no sign of stretching or loosening, just all-encompassing warm, wet, tightness that he could sink into like hot butter and that gripped him like a clamp.

"Oh Coach, would you...please breed me?" the rottweiler eventually asked, bringing the bull out of his surveying stupor. "Please...fill me with your cum, Coach."

The bull chuckled. "Oh, I wish I could," he grunted. "But that's going to be for your true owner to do, boy."

As if the tablet next to the tank had been waiting for him to say that, the alarm on it began to go off. Coach immediately stopped mid-hump and called, "End test time." The alarm turned off and the bull gave the rottweiler five more deep, penetrative thrusts before finally pulling out of the boy's ass with a wet plop. Coach awkwardly shoved his still erect and dripping cock back in his pants and zipped up. Then he rubbed the canine's back with his hand for a moment before moving to unbuckle the restraints.

"Get on up, boy, that's it for us," Coach said. "Time to get back in your tank for some more training."

Without a word of question, the rottweiler got to his feet and followed the bull back to the tank. But before he stepped back inside, the bull held him back.

"Just so you know, I'm sorry for any panic I caused you," Coach said. "You probably don't remember it, which will help. And I am still glad that you chose to come on board. We're still going to help you get what you want, I promise you that, Tyler."

The rottweiler cocked his head to the side, the word unfamiliar to his ears. "Tyler?" he asked.

The bull chuckled and caressed the canine's face--the canine leaned into his hand and moaned softly. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, horndog." He removed his hand and continued, "Now soften up and get back in your tank. We'll have you taken care of soon after your next round of conditioning."

The rottweiler nodded and turned to back into his tank so he settled against the cushioned gurney, his cock going limp and retreating into his sheathe as he did so. The bull picked up the tablet and tapped in the commands--the glass door slid back into place and sealed off the rottweiler, the restraints curled around his limbs and torso, and robotic arm descended and affixed the mask to his face before folding away again. The vents in the floor opened and the translucent fluid began to fill. Just as the rottweiler's mask began to fog again, Coach smiled and waved at him. The rottweiler's smile was just barely visible through the mask before it turned opaque again, obscuring the bull from his view.

Ray watched as the tank finished its filling sequence and the LEDs on the inside turned light purple, tinting the fluid and signifying that the latest conditioning cycle had already begun based on his observational notes during the test session. The rottweiler's restraints unbuckled and retracted, allowing the canine to float freely in his tank.

"Stand clear," a voice said over the room's intercom.

Ray took a few steps back as a panel in the ceiling opened, and a large robotic claw descended. The prongs slid into the grooves on the storage tank and locked into place. The floor bolts on the tank released, and the claw began to ascend, taking the rottweiler in the tank with it. Ray then consulted his tablet and checked the appropriate follow-up information: Subject would be stored in section D9 for targeted conditioning, with status updates scheduled for the appropriate intervals, and client candidate profiles would continue to be collected for another two months before the selection process began. Satisfied, the bull marked the current work phase complete for the rottweiler. He swiped to the right for the next test subject--a panther--and tapped the green button to bring in the associated storage tank.

--

The rottweiler awoke in the dark, cocooned snugly in an enormous purple wrapping within the sealed container. He was content to be there, waiting. He knew that his new master--the one person he would belong to, the one person who would take care of him--would be opening his stasis pod soon, and he'd be a good boy for him, forever and always. As tightly wrapped up as he was, the rottweiler could feel his tail wag.