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Kassam flashed a smile, then stretched his arms and grunted. "Ah, it might be time for the hard work now--we gotta stretch the more important hole, don't we, you dumb mutt?"

KC nodded obediently again, and Kassam laughed. "Okay, okay, let's get you set up for it."

The Border Collie held still as Kassam unhooked him from the e-stim unit, letting his balls hang freely once more. The tiger then released his ankles and wrists, before at last detaching the chain with the anal hook from the ceiling--the carabiner clipped to KC's collar, however, kept the anal hook's chain hanging down his back, while the hook itself was still lodged firmly in KC's ass.

Kassam began walking past the Border Collie, but as he passed, he grabbed the anal hook chain, pulling KC along to stumble behind him. "Come on, boy, keep up."

Like a subservient drone, KC began to backpedal in time with Kassam's confident strides. The tiger dragged the dog by the chain, yanking a few extra times on the lower links to tug on the anal hook still inside KC. The two of them crossed the room to the corner where the fuck bench sat, and Kassam swung KC around on his feet to face the piece of furniture.

"Alright, get on," Kassam commanded.

KC obeyed, planting his knees on the lower leather-clad cushions. He bent forward at his waist to settle his chest on the wide pad, inadvertently increasing the tension on the chain attached to his collar and driving the anal hook even deeper into his ass as he got into position. But he showed no signs of discomfort at the 7-inch ball further invading his guts--KC simply placed his arms on the raised cushions and inserted his muzzle and face snugly into the padded cradle for his head.

"Now that's a nice sight to see," Kassam chuffed, gazing upon the dog who had once been so self-assuredly cocky now humbly in the perfect position to use. The tiger sighed contentedly, then went to work cinching the leather straps tightly around KC's limbs and torso.

Even though he knew there was no way his captive could break through his preliminary mental conditioning, Kassam still tested the strength of the restraints as he secured them around the dog's ankles, calves, thighs, waist, chest, biceps, forearms, and wrists--he didn't get to where he was now by being lax about binding his boys. He checked over every strap after cinching them in place, tugging to make sure there was no wiggle room whatsoever and tightening the reinforced leather as much as he could.

Once he was certain that his subject was totally bound and helpless to make any kind of escape attempt, Kassam surveyed his handiwork, then patted the dog's back before he reached for the carabiner clipped to KC's collar.

"I think we can start moving on past this little toy," he said, unclipping the device and letting the anal hook chain fall freely to the floor. Kassam then squatted down behind KC's rear, where he saw the steel hook penetrating the puckered and slightly puffed-up hole under his still-raised tail. Kassam rubbed over the wrinkled flesh and gently traced a ring around the metal that had sunk into KC's ass before his fingers alighted on the hook and he grabbed the steel shaft. The tiger tugged on the tool, coaxing a mindless grunt from KC, but the hook budged by only a centimeter--KC's ass held it tightly, the sphincters clenching around the broad metal ball inside.

"You gotta relax some more, boy."

Kassam watched the Border Collie's hole sporadically clench and relax for a moment, winking at him before it finally loosened enough to gape around the thick, curved shaft of the hook. The tiger began pulling again, and this time he felt only a little resistance as he drew the hook out of KC's ass. The enormous ball bearing dragged roughly against the inner lining of the Border Collie's rectum, and in mere moments, the rim of KC's hole began to bulge with the bearing's girth. The pucker spread wide as Kassam tugged harder and harder, and the warm steel sphere pulled the lips of KC's anus--bright red, battered, and puffy--outward as Kassam kept drawing the hook closer to himself and away from the canine's insides.

"Ah...ah...ah..." KC huffed, making Kassam grin as he worked the first third of the ball bearing out of the dog's hole. The tiger loved hearing those little sounds of pain turning into pleasure, almost as much as he loved the sound of--

POP.

In one tug, the remaining two thirds of the ball bearing audibly burst from KC's hole, leaving it a swollen, loosened, angry red mess. Within the gape left behind, Kassam could just barely make out the start of a beautiful rosebud. KC, huffing and panting, strained to keep his hole open before it began naturally contracting again, slowly closing in on itself like a flower blooming in reverse.

"Hehe, I think we made some progress there," Kassam chuckled as he dropped the hook to the floor. "But let's see just how much..."

Without further ado, Kassam reached up to tap on the puffy lips, drumming his fingers against KC's rear entrance before sinking three digits past the limp rim. "Hmm..." he hummed to himself thoughtfully, rotating his wrist and bending his fingers to test the elasticity of KC's rectum. He grunted in disapproval, still feeling a lingering tightness within the dog's guts, and he roughly pulled his fingers back out.

"Man, I was hoping to fuck you now, but we've still got some work to do," Kassam said, now rising to his feet to loom over the Border Collie. "By the way you were talking in the bar, I thought your ass would be much more open by now." Kassam shrugged, then continued, "But I shouldn't be surprised that you were only pretending to be a bitch. You know, that's really what everyone is tired of--not you conning them for drinks or standing them up. They're tired of you pretending to be something you're not."

SMACK.

Kassam slapped KC's exposed cheek, earning a moan from the dog whose face was still buried in the head cradle. The tiger smirked, then began walking to his work table.

"When you're the new bar dog, you're not gonna be pretending to be a bitch," Kassam took up as he approached the table. He opened one of the drawers while he continued, "We're gonna put a stop to that right now."

Kassam selected the tool he was looking for and pulled it out of the drawer--he squeezed the grips of the extra-large anal speculum, spreading the half cylinder blades. "I'm going to help you out and really open you up, boy."

The tiger eased on the speculum grips, letting the heavy blades close to a smooth cylinder again, then picked up a bottle of lube from the work table before he approached the dog strapped to the fuck bench. Kassam squatted behind KC again and slathered the lube over the cold metal speculum blades, ensuring they were evenly coated with the viscous fluid. Satisfied, Kassam rested the tip of the speculum against KC's bruised hole, prodding at the loosened back entrance with the dull, rounded blades while he angled the medical device for the best penetration. Kassam steadied himself, then drove the speculum in up to the hilt--all 12 inches of the lubed blades sank into the dog's ass so smoothly, they were like hot knives cutting through butter.

"Now this...is the fun part," Kassam growled, emphasizing his statement as he abruptly squeezed the speculum grips again.

"Guuuuh," KC breathed thoughtlessly, feeling nothing but pleasure as the blades roughly pried his insides 10 inches apart with a wet schlulk.

Kassam could have opened the blades even further, but, deciding that 10 inches was a good starting point to mechanically force the dog's anal muscles to loosen up, he locked the grips in place and let go, leaving the open speculum lodged inside KC's ass. With the bright lights of his dungeon, Kassam could easily look into the gaping hole--lined by the metal speculum blades--and see clear into the Border Collie's stretched guts that were dripping with mucus and lube. Those were parts of the dog that had never seen the light of day--and never would have, if KC had had his way. But Kassam had removed that option for the canine; his insides would be exposed as often as possible. By the time he took the obedient and eager pup back to Hightower Bar, that ass would constantly be loose and open to admit anyone, no matter how thick or long they were. Kassam could see it now: the dog would be so stretched that he physically couldn't close what was left of his sphincter, and his puffy lips would drag on the dirty bar floor as he crawled to service the next alpha who was tugging on his leash.

"We're just gonna leave that in and get your proper training started," Kassam muttered to the oblivious dog, who sporadically curled and uncurled his toes in pleasure while his insides adjusted to being so forcefully spread apart.

Kassam returned to this work table and opened one of the larger drawers, from which he pulled out a large, black, heavy duty equipment case. He brought the case back to the fuck bench, where he unclasped the latches and took off the top, revealing an entire kit he had constructed himself: nestled in the high-density foam was an over-head, black rubber gas mask with adjustable straps and a long hose connected to a stainless steel canister marked N0SHyP. A few cutouts in the foam also contained extra coils of thin silicone tubing with metal adapters inserted into the ends, a USB drive, a power unit, and a blue button.

The tiger picked up the gas mask and ordered KC to raise his head from the fuck bench's cradle. When KC had arched his neck upward enough, Kassam removed the head cradle, set it aside, and took one more good look at the dog: With his bemused expression, his tongue hanging out, and his eyes half-lidded, it was clear the canine was off in his own little world.

Kassam had to admit that the Border Collie had a cute face--those cheeks were highly squeezable. Had KC not used his looks to try taking advantage of the tiger the same way he'd frequently done with so many others back at the bar, Kassam would've even thought him adorable; his youthful face and sex appeal didn't betray his lesser qualities at all. Really, if Kassam hadn't known better, he would've assumed that KC was just some sweet, innocent pup at the bar who was ripe for abuse. Instead, the dog had fucked around too many times, and now here he was.

Then again, Kassam was happy to have the mongrel in his dungeon--it had been a while since he'd indulged like this. He was just going to miss seeing that endearing mug. But he had work to do, plain and simple. And he so enjoyed his work. The tiger grinned, and KC, with no idea what was in store for him, didn't resist as Kassam tugged the thick rubber gas mask over his muzzle, lining up the gag molded into the lower jaw of the mask with his mouth.

As Kassam pulled the mask further, the gag--a thick piece of rubber with a narrow hole bored into it--filled KC's mouth completely, pushing his tongue down and stuffing itself into his esophagus, going well past the point of the dog's gag reflex. Had KC been in his original state of mind, he would have been retching and trying to vomit; thanks to Kassam's hypnosis, there was no such thing as a gag reflex for KC. At this point, the tiger could stick his hand down the dog's throat and the Border Collie wouldn't even flinch.

Kassam then aligned the nose of the gas mask with KC's, ensuring the two tubes protruding from the rubber fit squarely into his nasal cavities. With his mouth blocked, KC breathed through his nostrils, and Kassam could hear the dog's smooth, rhythmic inhales and exhales through the corrugated rubber hose connected to the mask's nose. For now, the diverter mechanism in the mask kept the hose open to the rest of the dungeon, allowing KC to breathe regular air.

From there, Kassam rolled the mask further over KC's face, aligning the eye portals--both blocked by LCD screens on the inside of the mask--with the canine's eyes. For now, KC was in the dark, and would be until the screens lit up in front of his eyes, showing him only what Kassam wanted him to see. The tiger then pulled the thick rubber over the dog's cranium, ensuring the speakers in the mask's ears aligned with the dog's auditory canals. As Kassam tugged and yanked the rubber further over KC's head, the electrodes lining the inside of the mask rested against the dog's skull. Kassam was particularly pleased with his work on that electrode array he'd built in--every patch in the mask would send small, electrical shocks deep into KC's gray matter to further alter his mental faculties, working in concert with the additional methods of brain manipulation he'd incorporated into the gas mask.

Finally, as KC dutifully held his head high, Kassam tightened the straps and latched them into place around the base of his skull. With the mask securely in place, Kassam took up one of the coils of silicone tubing and twisted one end with a metal adapter into the open core of the urethral sound still lodged in KC's cock. Translucent yellow urine--which had been dribbling to the floor the whole time KC had been strapped to the fuck bench--began filling the clear silicone tube. Kassam quickly twisted the other end of the tube (with an adapter of its own) into the small hole molded into the mask's mouth gag. Kassam watched the yellow column grow and fill the tube, with the level increasing further and further until it reached the orifice in the mask...and within moments, KC began instinctively swallowing, recycling the dregs of his own piss as it dripped down his throat.

Kassam smikred, pleased that his setup was nearly complete. He replaced the head cradle on the fuck bench so the tubes in the gas mask could snake through the opening, then pushed KC's head down to rest in the padded cradle once more; the rubber squeaked against the leather as the canine settled back into position.

Now that KC was ready, all the tiger had to do was turn on the system and let it do the work for him. He first twisted the valve on the N0SHyP tank, turning it to an appropriate flow rate--the pressurized tank remained closed as a safety measure and wouldn't open until Kassam gave the command. After prepping the canister, Kassam removed the USB drive from its foam cradle and plugged it into the port on the back of the gas mask. He then turned on the power unit--LEDs in the equipment crate lit up as the power unit cycled through its boot-up routine, then glowed a steady red to indicate that the kit was in "lock" mode and ready for use. Kassam pressed the blue button on its small pedestal, enabling the wireless control, before he strode over to the side table next to his easy chair and picked up his phone. He opened the app he'd developed for the kit and navigated to the controls--after he entered his access code, the lights in the kit turned green, signaling it was in "unlock" mode.

"Alright, pup, here we go," Kassam smirked.

He initiated the commands for the gas tank to open, the diverter in the gas mask's hose to switch to a 15/85% air/gas ratio, and the USB drive to start playing concentrated auditory hypnosis over the speakers and visual hypnosis over the LCD screens in the mask. The thumb drive would also control the electrodes in time with the mental conditioning media--and with everything starting at once, Kassam could see the effect it had on the dog; KC gently strained in his bonds for a moment, shivered, and then relaxed, all signs of him immediately submitting to Kassam's brainwashing and personality imprinting procedure. Kassam chuckled in delight, encouraged by how quickly the dog was taking to his training. The last thing to do was to set a timer, which Kassam did before finally dropping his hands to his sides and sighing tiredly.

"Been a long night for me, boy," he admitted, watching the dog now being subjected to his favorite treatment. On some level, Kassam wanted to watch KC's transformation as his new personality was imprinted on him, to see in real time the subtle changes in posture and breathing patterns. But the lateness of the hour was catching up with him, and, ultimately, doing nothing but observe his captive strapped to the fuck bench would be as exciting as watching paint dray. And Kassam already knew what the end result would be--his imprinting had worked on so many boys before this one, and it would work on so many more after KC. Why watch and wait for the inevitable when he could get some shut-eye? "You be good, okay? Stay put and don't make a mess," Kassam chuckled as he turned for the door. "I'll see you when I see you."

The still-nude tiger didn't even spare a backwards glance on his way out of the dungeon. As he crossed the threshold, he turned off the lights, plunging the room--clothes, tools, and toys still strewn on the floor, and the lone dog strapped to the fuck bench--into darkness.

With his mouth full and his own piss trickling down his throat, KC inhaled the sandalwood-scented gas that flooded his nostrils, seeped into his lungs, and infused with his bloodstream. Kassam had synthesized the chemical agents to work as a relaxant and to alter the canine's state of consciousness even further; as KC inhaled more of the gas, he would become more receptive to the visual, auditory, and electrical signals that would write in a new personality and cognitive capacity. While the initial round of hypnosis had effectively erased the old KC, this secondary round of mental conditioning would create a new, permanent version of the canine. All KC could do--both because of the straps binding him in place and the mental commands Kassam's work had already encoded into his brain--was settle further against the leather-clad cushions that supported him, breathe deeply, and wait for the screens in front of his eyes to illuminate.

As the Border Collie lay there in the dark, he started to hear low whispers. The speakers in his ears began pumping in a constant stream of voices, rushing against each other softly like a forest brook: "Good boy, good dog, you don't want to be anything but a good boy. Breathe deeply. Good dog. Good dogs obey. Good dogs get treats. Be a good dog and breathe deeply. You're just a dog. You can be a good dog and earn treats for being good. Follow orders, obey anyone and everyone all the time. You don't need freedom, you don't deserve freedom, there's no such thing as freedom. Just embrace being a good dog. That's all you are. Dog...dog...good dog..."

On and on it went, helping KC realize that he could be a good, happy dog, that he could--and should--accept his life as a subservient pup. The words filled his head and sank into his psyche, filling in crevices in his brain like putty. He huffed the gas deeper, the sandalwood aroma making him feel so wonderfully lightheaded and uninhibited.

The screens built into the eye ports lit up, barraging KC with clips of point-of-view recordings spliced together, forming a rhythm and visual flow for him to follow and be entranced by. He was sucking cocks one after another--rhino, bear, marten, zebra, wolverine, horse, alligator, more, more, more--they all blurred together as his perspective bobbed up and down along every length that would have been entering his mouth.

"You're just a dog. Be a good dog and obey. You love being a good boy. A good boy gets filled with cocks all the time. You love getting your hole opened wider...deeper...longer...you'll swallow anything put into your mouth...good dog..."

The videos shifted to his perspective of getting fucked; bulls, kangaroos, tigers, wolves, rabbits, lizards, orcas, lions, deer, panthers, boars, others, so many others in so many positions, all of them doing so many things to him, all for their pleasure. And that was all that mattered, was their pleasure--the dog knew that he was doing a good job, providing a warm hole for anyone and everyone to fill, giving them an eager and willing body to torment, to command, to abuse, to cuddle, to stomp and kick, to coat with piss and cum, to manhandle, and more. And the canine wanted more. He never wanted it to stop, to never relent.

The whispers in his ears grew louder, giving him firm directives and rules he should always follow, telling him what a good dog he was, that he was just a dog, that he would be nothing more than a dog, that he would be taken care of as long as he was a good boy--the dog loved the voices with their firm tones and the power they conveyed. The voices were big and strong, telling a weak little pup like him what to do, giving him a clear and simple structure of life to follow.

"Your place is always on the bottom, unless a master commands you to fuck. You'll be allowed to hump, but you can never cum without a master's permission. Your puppy cock will always be hard, your balls will always be full, and your ass and mouth will always be open. None of these things are yours to play with. Your cock belongs to everyone except you. Your balls belong to everyone except you. Your ass and mouth belong to everyone except you. You have no control. You're happy that you have no control. A dumb dog like you doesn't need to have control. Don't think. Dogs don't think. Be happy that others have control for you. All you have to do is obey. You love to obey. You are a good dog. You love to work hard so you can cum. Everyone loves a good dog who obeys. Everyone will fuck you, will use you. You're nothing more than a toy to play with, a hole to fill. That's a dog's purpose...be a good dog...you are a good dog..."

And as time went on and the Border Collie internalized the personality traits and reinforcement he was given, he knew that the structure was something he'd been needing his whole life. He felt as if he was being born anew, like he had been awoken from the dark and shown the purpose he was here to serve. He had been bred to be a good dog, to be a loyal mutt, to seek out opportunities to please and work for rewards, from stale fries and old nachos to a mouthful of fresh, warm piss and an assful of hot cum.

Words and spirals drifted across the screens in front of his eyes, bolstering what the canine had absorbed into his noggin and helping formulate his new and improved base instincts. He was just a dog, just a good dog who lives only to serve and be a helpful, obedient, cumhungry, slutty, cute, energetic, attentive, and affectionate cock warmer, urinal, hole, cum dump. Every command he was given, he would happily obey. Any time he didn't have a dick in him, he would look for one. He would let anyone do anything they could think of to him, no matter how much physical discomfort it caused him, and he would never even recognize physical discomfort again. He would be excited to sleep on a scrap of piss-soaked cardboard and eat out of a bowl. He would get as dirty and musky as possible and love every second of being nothing more than a dog.

Over the hours and hours that passed him by, the Border Collie didn't even notice the shocks penetrating his skull in time with the messages that fed into his mind. The electrical pulses insidiously destroyed old neurological pathways that he would have no use for anymore. Synapses were deactivated to remove habits, hobbies, quirks, talents, and speech patterns--where the old KC could once so easily type on a computer keyboard, the new dog wouldn't even think of trying to be so dextrous with his paws; he would never even be aware of the notion that his body once had the skill to do something so advanced. As the shocks infiltrated his gray matter, they promoted new nerve connections, stimulated specific glands to grow while cutting others off from the rest of the brain, and increased the production of desired neurotransmitters and hormones. Nerve by nerve, KC melted away and faded into oblivion, lost and forgotten completely, leaving behind only a nameless dog.

As time wore on in the dark dungeon and night eventually gave way to morning, the Border Collie--who still had his ass opened by the speculum, his urethra stretched wide by the long hollow plug that snaked into his bladder, and his own piss dripping down his throat-- remained locked into position on the fuck bench, but his back became even more relaxed and his breath rate increased. He didn't sleep at all--he couldn't sleep with the mental conditioning continuously coursing through his head. He was in a twilight haze of wakefulness and semi-sleep while his consciousness became more animalistic and reward-driven. Throughout the night, the physiological, chemical, and psychological changes in his brain structure and psyche took their toll, culminating in a dog who would be constantly alert and at the ready for action, perpetually horny, and would have an innate and overwhelming desire to please.

A full nine hours passed before the lights turned on and Kassam, wearing just a pair of pale blue boxer briefs, entered the dungeon, yawning. The Border Collie on the fuck bench didn't move a muscle, he was still too enraptured in the mental conditioning cycle and thoroughly unaware of how much time had passed.

"Look at that, right where I left you," Kassam growled as he approached the fuck bench--the bulge in his boxer briefs grew at the sight of the dog bound and still in his gas mask.

He wanted to pat the Border Collie's back--from his posture, Kassam could tell with just a glance that the personality imprint had worked and was simply being reinforced at this point. However, he restrained himself, not wanting to distract his captive from his training too much with physical affection--not until the time was right. Instead, the tiger contented himself by first checking the levels in the N0SHyP tank. When he saw that there was still a good two thirds of concentrated gas left, Kassam increased the flow rate to chemically overwhelm the dog and ensure his training would permanently stick.

With that done, Kassam moved to check the dog's progress with his second-most important training. Squatting behind the Border Collie's raised tail, Kassam could see that the speculum had begun to slip by a few inches from the canine's loosened hole. The tiger rubbed his chin, debating his options. He could either widen the speculum for more passive stretching, or he could hook up a more active piece of equipment. The speculum route was tempting...but looking at the dog's spread hole, with his swollen taint and dangling balls just under it, Kassam had to admit that the more active route was even more tempting. Besides, it would ultimately help reinforce the dog's new personality even more.

Decision made, Kassam first strode over to his work table and pulled open the medical supply drawer--from it, he withdrew a syringe with an extra-long needle and a vial of another chemical agent he'd developed. He quickly prepped an injection and returned to the Border Collie's backside, where he delicately began to insert the syringe. The dog's rectum was so cavernous that there was plenty of clearance for Kassam's insertion, and it was no effort at all for the tiger to plunge the needle into his selected injection sites. The canine didn't flinch once at the stings in his ass--still under the conditioning procedures, the injections were nothing more than pleasurable pokes in his insides, with warm flushes spreading into his muscles as Kassam dispensed the contents of the syringe.

It took Kassam only a few minutes to complete his round of injections--Kassam dipped the needle into multiple spots. The chemical infusion was designed to overwrite the muscle structure of the Border Collie's insides, further loosening his sphincters and internal cavities. By the time the dog left the dungeon, he'd be able to take the largest pieces of equipment Kassam could think of (and the tiger could dream very, very big). And like the rest of the compounds that Kassam had synthesized in his dungeon laboratory, the relaxant would never be expunged by the canine's body--every chemical Kassam used on the Border Collie would be completely metabolized and permanently integrated into his system; the canine's balls and prostate would never stop overproducing semen, his ass would never be tight again, and he would always and forever have the cognitive level of the most loyal and affectionate mutt possible.

Once Kassam finished with the injections, he deposited the empty syringe on his work table and then consulted his toy cabinet. The tiger opened the display case doors and immediately went for the bottom shelf, where he pulled out a durable fuck machine and an extremely oversized horse dildo attachment. Kassam hefted both the machine and the dildo--a slab of silicone 30 inches long and 15 inches in girth--in his arms and brought them back over to the fuck bench. He set the apparatus up behind the Border Collie and plugged it in before angling the now-attached dildo to aim right for the dog's hole.

After checking that the alignment was accurate, the tiger slathered the dildo's length with a generous coating of lube, and then reached for the speculum still lodged in the dog's ass. Kassam unlocked the grips and released the handles, allowing the cylindrical blades to close under their own weight rather than being squeezed closed by the Border Collie's ass. The tiger slid out the used speculum and laid it to the side, and then, without further ado, switched on the fuck machine to its lowest speed and extension settings.

The fuck machine kicked into gear, with the flywheel sending the broad-headed horse dildo straight into the Border Collie's gaping and waiting hole.

"Huuuuuhhhh," the dog moaned through the gas mask. He arched his back against the restraints binding him to the bench, trying to open his hole even more--and his efforts were paying off. Kassam watched, satisfied, as the first five inches of the fat dildo squeezed roughly between the canine's ass cheeks. The silicone's girth created enough friction to clearly drag the loose lips of his anus into his ass before drawing them out again to slide along the slick surface, but Kassam could see that the dog was loose enough for the dildo to still glide in and out--it was just a matter of time and practice. Eventually the pup would get stretched to the point where his depths could be plundered with no resistance whatsoever. And that was what the fuck machine was for after all.

Schlp-schlp-schlp-schlp. The wet sounds of lubed silicone penetrating warm flesh filled the dungeon. The canine curled his toes and clenched his fingers against the leather cushions under him in pleasure, moaning and huffing in the gas mask as he felt the dildo's rhythmic pounding. Even though it was wider than anything he'd ever taken, he loved the sensation from the first thrust, feeling the perfectly enticing mix of ecstasy and agony that made him enjoy it. He loved being spread apart so much. There was just something so rewarding and thrilling about having his hole opened wider and deeper--it was a sense of completeness, a sense that everything was right in his world with something so fulfilling inside him, and a deep longing for even more of that sensation.

That longing grew within him as the minutes passed. He wanted more, he knew he could take more, he was a good boy who could always take more, to get that bigger stretch, to plunge something even deeper into him and split himself open. He couldn't help himself; the dog shifted in the straps cinched around him to wag his ass, to signal to whoever was out there that his ass was hungry--was constantly hungry and in desperate need of filling.

"Hey, I think he likes it," Kassam chuckled, noticing the wagging ass. The tiger took the cue and ramped up the fuck machine's speed and extension settings, now sending a total of 10 inches of artificial horse meat into the dog's wet, sloppy hole at moderate speed.

"Huuuh-uh-uh-uh-uuuuuuhhh..." the Border Collie moaned through the gag in the mask.

Kassam chuckled at the dog's reaction before he felt a buzzing on his wrist--consulting his smart watch, he saw his alarm going off, meaning it was time for him to start getting ready for work. He sucked his teeth, wishing he could spend the day just enjoying the show in his dungeon...but today was already shaping up to have a full schedule at the office, and he knew he'd likely get home late. Kassam sighed and shrugged--what else could he do? Resigning himself to having to be a responsible adult for the day, the tiger took one last measure for his captive's training. He adjusted the advanced settings on the fuck machine so both the speed would increase by 1 RPM and the extension length would increase by half an inch every 30 minutes until they both maxed out. With that done, the tiger said, "Your day's going to be a lot more fun than mine, you lucky dog."

With the dungeon filled with the sounds of the fuck machine, his pet project's moaning, and the dildo schlping into the canine's ass, Kassam turned off the lights again as he departed, submerging the space in the dark once more. To the canine strapped to the fuck bench, nothing changed except the increasing pleasure he felt in his ass while his training further cemented itself in his brain. With the gas mask still latched around his head, all he could do for the whole day was simply continue listening to and watching his reinforcement and huffing the hypnotic gas. The mask did the rest of the work, overwriting the smallest shreds of memory and identity from his previous life and forcing him to continuously internalize his personality imprint. As the fuck machine behind him kept ramping up the speed and extension length every half hour, the dog begged constantly for more of the dildo to fill him.