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Learning to Please Her

Part 2

For Sinister

By Draconicon

And so began the career of Waylon Quickstep as a janitor for the daemonette. Not the job that he would have chosen, but a job that still paid well enough for what he needed. The fact that the employer covered room and board, as well, meant that he didn't have to worry about his finances.

The downside, of course, was that he was more or less restricted to the mansion. There was no leaving without the permission of the 'mistress,' or at the very least, her driver. The cat, Andrea, had quickly turned against him, though he didn't know why. He was a charming enough male, and that usually got him what he wanted. Not this time, though. She just glared at him the whole time when she wasn't telling him what to do, and he learned quickly that she wasn't going to just roll over and let him do what he wanted.

Worse, she had determined that he would wear a maid's outfit. The fact that he was a janitor was embarrassing enough, but the fact that she kept stuffing him into a skirt or dress was worse. He growled every time that she caught him before he got to work and made him wear it, but didn't actively talk back. Not when she was in earshot, at least.

Outside that, however...

"Fucking pussy, thinking she can...ugh..."

Waylon grumbled as only a rat could grumble, pulling the mop from side to side in the kitchen. The floor was utterly soaked with the seed of other residents, and he hated the fact that he could tell that there was a difference between the daemonette's cum and the cum of the other women around by now. The fact that he could tell the difference in the musk was something that was utterly wrong.

After all, he was a lady's man, the sort of guy that got bitches into bed with him, not the sort that went around sucking dick. Or licking ass. Or all the other shit that the women in this mansion seemed determined to get him to do.

Including fucking Andrea. That purple pussy could just fuck off and die in a fire.

"Keeping me here all day. Fucked up little bitch. I swear, she's going to get what's coming to her one of these days. Ugh...gross, gross, gross..."

Squeezing out the mop was always one of the most disgusting things that he had to do while cleaning, but when he was mopping up spilled seed, it just got worse and worse. The feeling of old cum, crumbs and strings of it running through his fingers into the bucket, the way that it just refused to break down, the way that it just filled the air and marked him with that smell: it all got to him in a way that he had never expected. He kept gagging, telling himself how wrong it was, but...

Well, there was still a twitching thing in his boxers, something that reminded him that some part of him liked it. He blamed the daemonette's magic, something in the house that made things sexy that shouldn't be, but he couldn't make himself believe it.

He dragged his fingers through the mop another few times, making sure to strain out as much of the mess as he could, then wiped it off on his skirt. He pulled the dress of, throwing it to the ground and using it as a towel, wiping down the mess that was left behind.

Least this means I don't have to wear this stupid thing. He'd managed to swap out the panties that the bitch cat had left behind for boxers, which at least kept him from feeling like a total sissy in those. They can just eat my ass if they think that I'm going to dress the way that they tell me. I'm not some punk. I'm Waylon Quickfoot, dammit.

The rat was halfway to cleaning up the puddle that was still oozing across the floor when a cleared throat caught his attention. He looked up from the puddle, finding himself staring right at Andrea.

The purple feline stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms folded under a bra that was barely holding back her breasts. That was more the fault of the bra than the breasts, of course, considering that it was a meager thing, almost too small to be considered an actual bra. Now that he thought about it, the purple pussy was probably the least-endowed woman in the mansion, at least when it came to boobs. Tit envy, he swore.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

"Just seeing if you're doing what you're supposed to be."

"You think I'm gonna shirk?"

"I know you will, if you think nobody's going to catch you."

"Fuck off."

"I'll fuck you."

She smiled, and the panties she wore twitched in the front. He knew that she was completely serious, too. The various women in the mansion had permission from Aludiana to do what they wanted with him, and that could mean pretty much anything. They needed a reason to do it, admittedly - they couldn't just force him to take a punishment for doing nothing - but that was easy to get around. Hell, he could think of a dozen ways to get around that, and he wasn't even trying.

He slowly stood up, shaking his head as he tossed the dress into the sink. Andrea's eyes narrowed.

"What's that about?"

"What's what about?"

"I gave you that to wear. That's your uniform."

"It's garbage."

"It's part of the janitorial uniform, and you will wear it."

"Or what? You'll fuck me? Your mistress already beat you to that."

"You really do not understand what you're getting into. I'm giving you a chance. Wear it."

"Yeah fucking right. I'm not going to do that."

"...Last chance, rodent."

"Heh, try and make me."

Not like the cat could. She was not only the one with the smallest breasts, but she was almost the smallest woman in the house, as well. Sure, there were plenty of others closer to the six-foot mark, and some over it, but she was shorter than him. Only by an inch or so, of course, but that was still enough to make it clear that he was the one that could call the shots here. He smirked at her, leaning on the mop.

That smirk, however, died on his face as Andrea pressed her fingers to her lips and whistled. The sound echoed through the house for a moment or two, only to be answered by the thumping sounds of someone running through the hallways. He blinked.

"What the hell is that?"

"Your punishment," she said.

Barely a moment later, a barely-dressed Dalmatian appeared beside the purple cat. She had a collar on, no bra, and a crotchless pair of underwear that thrust a throbbing, dripping cock out in front of her. She panted happily, her tag on her collar dancing and reflecting the light. He saw the name 'Tesla' on it before it started bouncing again, the Dalmatian leaning down.

"What's the matter? What's going on? Oh, you whistled? What's up?" she asked.

"I want you to help me teach our new janitor a lesson."

"Oooooh. What kind?"

"Something that needs him kept still. Pin him."

"Heh. Can I use his face?"

"Go ahead."

"Hey, what the fuck? I didn't - gah!"

The Dalmatian, for all that she was slightly over six feet and carrying quite a few curves, was a lot faster than she looked. She jumped across the room, reaching him in two leaps and knocking him head over heels. They rolled backwards together, him hitting the floor with a grunt followed by her landing over him. She had spun, somehow, and how -

"MMMPH!"

Her balls were right in his face, pressing down and grinding over his lips and nose, his cheeks and his muzzle. He did his best to keep his head turned, but she kept following him, oozing pre-cum all over his face. The staining goo ran down his muzzle, almost sliding into his mouth, and the raw, heady smell of sweat and manhood on this dog was almost overpowering.

"Well, at least you know what you like," Andrea said, the purple feline stepping between his legs. "But that hard-on's going to cause some problems here..."

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he knew that he didn't want to be where he was. He pushed at Tesla from beneath, trying to shift her hips away from his face, but all he managed was to bring her balls that much closer. She ground them against his face, rubbing them over his nose, leaving sweat and probably a little more all over his face. He groaned every time that he breathed in, making it hard for him to think as he felt her scent pushing at him in the same way that Aludiana's had.

"Mmmph...nnngh..."

"He's so squirmy, Andrea. He's not opening his mouth, either."

"Well, that'll happen soon enough. Let's just get rid of this hard-on, first."

He felt his boxers being pulled away, and suddenly dreaded just what the cat might do to make him go soft. Was she going to punch him in the balls? Kick him? Cut them off? The woman was a fucking psycho, it could be any of those. What was going to -

"AH - MMPH!"

He yelped as he felt the ice pressed right against the head of his cock, the chilling cold shooting right through his dick and going down to his balls from just how frigid it was. Unfortunately, the moment he opened his mouth to yelp about it, a cock went down his throat, filling it to the brim and forcing him to swallow around it just to keep breathing.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

And it was slick, wet, and hot in his throat, something that he was really, really, really not used to. There was this sense of heat, warmth, sexual need that came every time that the Dalmatian thrust down that little bit further into his throat, and he coughed, gagging around the tip every time that it punched into his throat.

"Relax, you little bitch," Andrea muttered. "Bitching about everything, might as well be a real one."

"Mmmph! MMMPH!"

"Oh, wow...that screaming feels so good...he's vibrating, Andrea. That's so cool!"

"Yes, dear, I know."

Why the hell were they so casual about it? This was nuts. This was insane. This was just -

"MMMPH!"

He all but screamed down Tesla's cock again as he felt the ice running along his balls. Every chill made his cock go a bit softer, only for the taste of Tesla's dick and sweat to start bringing it back up, and then the cold brought it down again. There was a war for the state of his dick going on, and the ice was winning, slowly forcing his cock to go down, down, down. He shivered as she ground her cock down his throat, her balls pressed flush against his nose, making every breath be tainted with the smell of her sac.

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

He kept breathing in against his will, the smell forced down into his lungs. It was hot, wet, slippery, sexy - no, not sexy! His mind protested, but he couldn't help but throb down there, the pleasure hitting him. Even when she started thrusting, fucking his face as she used him, as she bounced her balls against his muzzle and dragged him further and further down into that stupid-horny sub-space, he couldn't help but moan slightly.

Finally, his cock went completely soft. He was almost numb, the head of his cock dangling down over his balls, his shaft wet with pre-cum, but no longer standing up stiff and stubborn. He moaned under his breath, shivering as he felt those hands rubbing his balls, teasing them, lifting them up just slightly -

Wait, there was something else. Something hard, something metal that had just slid over his cock and balls. He tried to push his head up, only for Tesla to shove him back down. She had her hands on his stomach, holding him pinned as her hips started to pick up the pace. Smack, smack, smack went her thrusts, slamming down his throat, almost making him heave more than once as he struggled to take it.

"This will remind him of his place..."

He wanted to know what they were doing, but at the same time, he was almost thankful that he knew nothing. Pinned as he was, he could only swallow, desperately sucking down pre-cum and spit at the same rate just to keep breathing. The rat strained, but his strength was leaving him, and the Dalmatian just didn't...stop...humping!

He felt like he was getting pummeled into the floor, his face ground back and forth against her crotch, and his throat invaded again and again by her cock. He gasped around it, struggled to find space to breathe. Soon, he was getting lightheaded from the lack of air, and he kept shivering from head to toe as he felt his eyes rolling further and further back. The taste of her, the scent of her, was so strong.

And then, something else.

Down between his legs, the feline was still doing something. That metal ring had something else attached to it, now, something that rubbed against the base of his shaft. He could feel it, could feel something squeezing his cock. What -

"Mmmph...mmmph..."

Smack, smack went Tesla's crotch against his face, and he could feel her cock throbbing against his mouth, over his tongue. His eyes went wide, knowing that he was going to get a mouthful, and he struggled to stop her.

But it was too late. She slammed down one more time, and she came hard, spurting her seed all over his tongue. He groaned, some of it pouring out the corners of his muzzle, forcing him to suck down the rest to avoid drowning. He kept swallowing and swallowing, even as she pulled her cock from his lips and let the rest of her load drain over his face. He panted for breath, sitting up, his eyes wide as he tried to sort through what had just happened to him.

But that metal touch...

He looked down at his crotch, and he stared as Andrea pulled her hands back. There, wrapped firmly around his cock and balls, was a shiny metal tube. It forced his cock down and over his sac, and worse, it made his cock pull in, pushed down against itself. It couldn't grow to its full size, which meant that if he started to get stiff later, he was going to be in a world of discomfort.

"What...why..."

"Because I'm sick of listening to you be an ass," Andrea said. "You need to learn, Waylon. You need to learn that you're the bottom bitch here. There's no getting around that, and the more that you mouth off, the worse things are going to get for you."

He couldn't believe it. He honestly couldn't. Just looking down, he could see that it was true, that he had been caged, that his cock had been taken away from him, but the fact hadn't quite penetrated his brain just yet. It was like looking at someone else's cock, someone else caged up and left...helpless. Less of a man. He stared at it for almost a minute before Tesla poked his face with her dick.

"So, um...do you want to finish cleaning it off?" she asked.

"FUCK OFF!"

He shoved her away, jumping to his feet. He managed to dodge Andrea's grab for him, leaping over the kitchen island and running out of the room. Of all things, his Quickfoot name still proved true.

It didn't take long to lose them in the hallways, and Waylon knew that he was going to have to keep doing that. They were either going to search him down and then bring him before their mistress for punishment, or they were going to go straight to the daemonette. Considering what he knew of Andrea, he was pretty sure which one she was going to go for.

And if I can get to the boss first...

This couldn't be fair. He knew that the daemonette was a kinky bitch, but he couldn't believe that this was something that she just...allowed. The idea that she was that willing to just let her employees run rampant like this just flew in the face of everything that he had imagined. This had to be something that Andrea could be punished for, right?

And that...that would teach that purple bitch a lesson. He was damn sure that it would teach her a lesson.

So, the rat did what rats did best. He snuck around. He kept his head down. He made sure to dart from room to room only when no-one was looking. Through it all, he made sure that he kept his eyes on Tesla and Andrea, ensuring that they weren't tracking him while he made his way to the stairwell, and then to the second floor.

Waylon was pretty sure that he knew where the daemonette was. She'd said something about a meeting today to one of her other servants, and that meant that she'd probably be in the library, or study, or the board room on the third floor. He was hoping that it was one of the former two, because they weren't so far away, but at least he had some ideas of where to look.

There was no luck in the library, but as he approached the study, he heard the sound of grunts and whispers inside. It sounded like something vaguely threatening. Maybe she was doing something to the client that she was meeting with, threatening them. Maybe he could do something else that might shake up the way that things were run around here.

So, he shoved the door open...

And found himself face to face with the daemonette as she fucked the living shit out of a stag over a table. He stared, his eyes wide as she turned to look at him, her hips never stopping as she slid her pierced cock up the stag's ass over and over again.

"Waylon."

"M-Mistress?" he asked, his eyes wide, his breath shaky.

"Close the door."

He did so without thinking about it, and instantly regretted it. The air was thick with the smell of her musk, her pheromones, and it was already seeping back into his head. His cock twitched in the cage, and he immediately grimaced as he felt it trying to get hard in a space that was too small for it.

"I assume that my girls found you being naughty," she said, her hips still moving in a blur, rolling forward to fuck her cock all the deeper into the male under her. "That's usually what brings the cage out."

"It's not...mmmph...it's not fair..."

"And what makes it unfair?"

"I...you can't just..."

"Waylon, Waylon. You didn't read your contract, did you?"

"Nobody reads those fucking things."

"You should have."

Probably, but he hated the idea of taking the time to go through those things properly. They were huge, long, and they never made sense. Besides, there was no way that she could just...that she would be able to enforce...

His eyes couldn't leave the fucking going on before him. His hole was already twitching just looking at that, imagining himself in the stag's palce. His cheeks burned as he realized that he was starting to fantasize of just that, and he wanted to look away, but he couldn't. The rat was pinned in place, and he didn't even know why.

The fuck continued for nearly another ten minutes, during which time he didn't even have the option to look away. It was like staring at a car crash, except in this case, it was almost like looking at an image of the future. This was what he could become. This very well might be what he would become.

Finally, the stag broke off into a low moan, cumming over the table. Aludiana pulled out of him, the lavender daemonette giving her cock a few strokes and cumming all over the stag's back, some strings of her seed landing between his antlers and dripping down over his face. The cervine male panted, shivering, moaning under his breath. Through it all, Waylon had just stood there, his cock hurting more and more in the cage, oozing through the hole at the tip as the rat whimpered under his breath.

"You can go."

He wished that had been said to him. Instead, it was for the stag. The antlered male bobbed his head to the daemonette, walking out quickly, almost forgetting to grab his clothes at the door. As soon as he left the room and the door shut behind him, Aludiana turned her attention to the rat.

"Now...let's talk about you."

"It's not my fault -"

"Ah."

She held up a finger, and he felt a horrible distortion of reality, almost like a tingle at the edge of his lips. There was a point where he almost felt like the edge of his muzzle was being pinched, that if the daemonette moved her hand, he would end up with a literal zipper running along his face. He froze, not daring to speak, and the moment passed as she lowered her hand to her side once more.

"I didn't say for you to talk. I said, it's time to talk about you. And I'm going to do the talking. Do you understand?"

"..." Not daring to speak, he just nodded.

"Good."

The daemonette folded her hands as she sat down at the chair beside the table, her cock still hard, the tip still dripping with plentiful amounts of pre-cum. He tried not to stare, tried to look anywhere else in the room but at her, but just like with the fuck, she was magnetic, forcing him to stare at her rather than the comfortable places. He bit off the whimper that wanted to come from his throat, but it didn't make him feel any more brave.

"Waylon...what am I going to do with you?"

"I...I just..."

"You come to me, thinking that it's going to be easy. You mouth off to me, and I have to put you in your place. Then you complain at my girls, insulting them, and you think that I'm going to protect you from this?"

"They...they forced me..."

"Forced, Waylon? Forced?"

The way she said it cut at him, but he knew that she wasn't wrong. He still remembered how stiff he had been, how hard his cock had throbbed as his throat had been plundered. The sheer humiliation from being forced down on his back by a Dalmatian that way, his cock caged by a feline...

Even now, just thinking about that was enough to get his cock throbbing, pushing against the edge of the cage. His legs turned inwards, his thighs grinding against each other as he had to lean against the wall to stay upright from the uncomfortable pain-pleasure that followed. He hissed through his teeth, shaking his head.

"It's not fair."

"Oh? And what is? That you get away from treating others like trash?" she asked.

"I...I don't..."

"You do, and you know it."

She flicked her cock, pointing it at him, and he shivered, feeling like he was staring down the barrel of a loaded weapon. He fell to his knees, finally, and she nodded. Something in that simple expression called him forward, and he kept crawling across the floor, making his way to the seated daemonette.

"I'm sorry that it has to come to this. I thought that you could be a decent little employee, once I had a word with you. Carl recommended you quite highly, and I take his word on these things. Apparently, he was being overly generous in your case."

"Nnngh..."

"You're going to have to do a lot better than you have been if you want to be released from that, Waylon. It's not just Andrea that owns your cock. It's everyone in the mansion. You are locked. And Andrea is going to give me the key later."

Whatever thought that he had about Aludiana being the better one to hold the key disappeared as she stopped him with one foot on his face. She curled the toes around his nose, and the soft, sweaty, slightly dirty smell nearly made his cock rocket forward in the cage. It tried to harden, tried to rise, and failed. He gritted his teeth, whimpering through his lips at the raw discomfort that her intentional punishment caused him.

"And I will not be allowing you out of there until you please me...and show me that you can learn a lesson about your own behavior."

"Nnngh...you...you..."

"Insult me at your peril. I am a good mistress, for those that work hard. For those that are no more than entitled little sluts, I am nothing but a nightmare."

He was rapidly realizing that was the truth. He shivered as she rubbed her foot down his face, curling her toes through his fur on his neck and pulling him forward. His nose rammed right into her balls, forcing him to breathe in her scent.

Somehow, it was even more potent than Tesla's, and his head rolled back almost immediately as he was forced to breathe it in, his eyes going wider as he smelled that hot, thick scent that he had become so familiar with just a day before. He moaned more, and more, his cock dripping, trying and failing to get hard.

"Lick."

He could do nothing else. He dragged his tongue along her balls, tasting her own pre-cum, tasting the sweat that had come off the stag as she'd fucked the other male. He could taste that slight bitterness that meant that she had been fucking him harder than usual, the taste of ass still strong on her cock and balls. Clean, but still there.

His cheeks burned, his humiliation climbing as he realized how much he envied that other man, how much he was curious about how it would feel to have that pierced shaft buried in his ass. The thought alone made his tail go up, only for the tightness of the cage to call him back to reality and make him focus on that. That cage, that denial, that tight cage forcing his cock down like the bitch they wanted him to be.

"Nnngh..."

"Don't stop, Waylon. This is your punishment."

"It's not...fair..."

"It's more than fair. You could have avoided this, but you chose to be an angry little man. You will have to work very hard to earn your way out of this...that is, if you even want to."

"I...mmmph..."

She dragged him up to the head of her cock, smearing his face with her pre-cum, making him taste her again. The smell, the flavor, the musk, the sheer cloud of sexuality that surrounded her cock made him lightheaded all over again, leaving his head rolling around on his shoulders and his eyes half-closed. It was like she was taking him into some sort of trance, something that he couldn't escape.

"Mmmph..."

She dragged his head up to her cock tip, forcing his mouth open and leaving him sucking on it. Her pre-cum flowed like a thick medicine over his tongue and down his throat, forcing him to take it in, forcing him to nurse on the shaft like it was his source of life. He moaned under his breath, whimpering, but his cock drooled in turn through the shaft.

"You cannot lie to me, Waylon. I know what you want. I've always known. The question is, do you know what you want?"

He groaned, trying to shake his head, but that was all but impossible with a cock in his mouth. He tried to pull his head back, but she shoved his head right back down, forcing him to take all the more of her shaft. More, more, more, the thick rod forcing his throat open.

"Do you know what you want?"

"Not...not this..."

"Are you going to keep lying to yourself?"

He didn't want to think that he was. He didn't want this to be what he wanted, but the more that he breathed in her scent, the more time that he spent on his knees, the more that he started to realize how much his body was enjoying it. The rat moaned, looking down at the pre-cum dribbling up from her cock.

I don't want this, do I?

He didn't know, and that was what scared him. He didn't know anything.

I don't...I don't want...

He wanted.

He needed.

The dirty little rat leaned forward, sucking the head back into his throat. The raunchy taste of the shaft was just strong enough to flavor it through the thick layers of cum and pre-cum that soaked it, reminding him of what he was doing. Ass to mouth, someone else's ass to his mouth. He whimpered, his face as red as it could get, even as he pushed further and further down to her balls.

There, his nose pressed against her crotch, and he tried not to imagine himself doing the huffing that he knew he was doing. He felt pathetic, whore-ish.

Yet, at the same time, excited.

Happy.

Fulfilled.

Not...not just...a dirty rat...

But some part of him wanted to be that. He sucked the cock, swallowing around it, feeling the piercings in his throat for a moment before he pulled back, dragging his lips all the way to the head once more. He slathered the tip with attention, giving the slit at the tip of the cock a number of licks, dragging pre-cum out of it by the mouthful before going down to the base again.

Was he cleaning? Worshiping? Something else entirely? He honestly didn't know, but he knew that he was going further than he really had to. Something else had seized control of him, and it wasn't the daemonette's hand on the back of his head. It was something deeper, something that really seemed to fit with the 'dirty rat' that she had called him.

He moaned around her shaft, bobbing his head faster, further, sucking her deeper. He had lost his mind, somewhere along the way. Lost it to the need that she forced into him, the lust that she made him feel.

More...

He no longer merely bobbed, but thrust his face forward, then back, forward, then back, each time swallowing harder and harder around the rod. It pulsed for him, spitting down his throat and into his stomach, only to feed him that salty, powerful flavor every time that he came back up to the tip.

More.

More.

More!

Eventually, Aludiana pushed him back, and he panted as he hit the floor. The reality of his little temporary addiction hit him hard, and he turned, looking over his shoulder at her in shock and awe. She smiled.

"Not a dirty little rat, hmm?"

"I..."

"You know what you are."

"..."

He ran, and she let him.

The End

Summary: Waylon mouths off to the wrong woman, and he is put in his place, hard.

Tags: S/M, Intersex, Daemonette, Feline, Dalmatian, Canine, Rat, Rodent, Chastity, Face-Fuck, Musk, Cum, Orgasm, Chastity Cage, Punishment, Oral, Blowjob, Series, Anal, Stag,