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Cove remained in the same position for the next three patrons; the first gave Cove two shots of tequila (surprising the tiger shark when he first tasted the liquor exiting the tube in his mouth, but he gulped it down like water) before giving him a similar scent treatment. This time, though, the odor of a used gym shirt and jockstrap smelled almost sweet, with just a hint of ripe musk--a few additional spritzes of pheromones encouraged Cove to greedily inhale the aroma, and he took a deep whiff of the sweaty clothes just before swallowing a fresh load of cum. The slug of semen traveled lazily down the tube into his mouth, where he found it had a similar texture to the first wad he'd swallowed earlier, but the flavor was almost acidic and sour. Still, he eagerly gulped it down, relishing the sensation of the slimy fluid sliding along his throat.

The second and third patrons didn't use any of the drinking or smelling tubes, however--according to Dozer, they were simply humping the fleshlight. Cove found himself both relieved and a little disappointed at that; relieved because he now had a little opportunity to catch his breath and talk with his handler, but disappointed because, to his surprise, he realized he wanted to sniff more smelly jockstraps, shirts, shorts, sweat, and musk. The very first time Cove had been forced to smell those jockstraps, it had been almost too much for him to handle, but now there was just something so alluring about getting those odors in his nose and deeply breathing them in. At the same time, the tiger shark felt a certain thrill about being powerless to stop himself from guzzling down the drinks that fed into his mouth; even though he was physically big enough to ordinarily be intimidating in most normal situations, here he was, strapped down to a bed and at these strangers' mercy, unable to see what he was given and who was giving it to him; all he could do was uselessly flex against his bonds and swallow. Maybe it was the pheromones, maybe it was the alcohol, probably it was both, but he felt like he was starting to lose some of his inhibitions already--the tequila mixing with beer in his system was already making him feel a little lightheaded and dizzy.

"How're you doing there, Chomper?" Dozer asked while the third patron was still using the fleshlight.

Cove managed a half-shrug as he nodded and smiled. "Oh, I'm...I'm good, Sir. Real good."

Dozer's rumbling chuckle almost vibrated in Cove's chest. "That's what I like to hear. At first, anyway."

Cove grinned dopily before he absently glanced around the room; from under his glass mask, he saw that the door was still closed, the large, white flying saucer still hung from the ceiling like a weird chandelier, and Dozer still sat in his chair next to Cove's bed. As the tiger shark's gaze drifted back to the door behind him, he wondered if other glory hole performers were already in their rooms, waiting to be used by random strangers looking to get their rocks off. Did Turello Insurance know that this setup was in their basement? Did patrons use the rear entrance of the building like he did, or did they just walk in through the lobby?

"What's on your mind, kid?" Dozer asked, watching Cove's wandering eyes.

The tiger shark half-shrugged again. "Oh, I guess...don't know, just still kind of surprised that this is all down here."

"Yeah, I get it, when you think 'insurance building' you don't connect it to 'glory hole alley' right away," Dozer acknowledged.

"How long has this place been here, Sir?" Cove asked, genuinely curious.

"Hmm...at least twenty years," the giant Saint Bernard said, scratching his chin. "Probably longer though. Been coming here for a while myself."

Cove raised his eyebrows, intrigued. Dozer chuckled at his interest before he downed the rest of the piss in his glass, then groaned as he stood up. "It's a great place for anonymous fun, and they do good business, so it's going to be around for a long time." Carrying his empty glass, the Saint Bernard stepped over to the far end of the bed, where Cove heard him open a panel on the box under the mattress again. Dozer pressed a button, then Cove heard the drizzling of water filling the cup--when Dozer stood up straight again, Cove saw that he'd refilled his glass with more piss that must have been in reserve. "Hell, I came here in my younger days," Dozer continued. "I've been on both sides of this wall."

Cove hesitated.

"Go ahead, speak up, Chomper," Dozer told him before taking a sip of his urine.

"Well...haven't you always been a dom, Sir?" Cove asked tentatively. "I mean, how could you be on the receiving end here and..."

"Oh, a good dom can take control in any situation," Dozer said authoritatively while he returned to his seat and took up the tablet again. "You think that just because I was back here I didn't have the power the entire time? You, you're just a hole to be filled whenever someone else wants, waiting to be used--me, I would order boys to fill my muzzle, I told them when to get in and how deep they could go. I was in charge of when a man blew his load, it was never up to him; he was completely dependent on me for release. I'd make him shoot when I decided he'd earned it." Dozer leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the bed next to Cove, his giant paws resting against the tiger shark's leg. "I had every man whimpering and begging to eat his load out of my mouth by the time I finished blowing him," the Saint Bernard went on, laying a hand on his lap--Cove could see the growing bulge in Dozer's crotch, an obvious sign that his handler was enjoying his reminiscing and boasting. "I never swallowed, so sometimes I'd grant the request, opening up and letting him lick his wad off of my tongue; sometimes I'd spit it back into his mouth; and sometimes I'd just hawk that shit on the floor and he'd lick it up from there. And I'd always get a 'thank you, sir.' The best a kid like you will get in this place is 'good work, slut.'"

As his handler spoke, the tube over Cove's mouth inserted itself between his lips and a fresh slug of cum lazily trailed down the silicone line until it glooped onto his tongue like a melted piece of thick gummy candy. The tiger shark instinctively swallowed the gooey jizz, then let the tube retract from his mouth again.

"Just like that--you're getting it," Dozer said, nodding approvingly at how naturally Cove was taking to his task.

Another four patrons came and went--Cove guessed that they used him over the course of an hour. While Dozer absently sipped on his glass of Cove's piss and tapped on the tablet in his lap (from the flashing colors, Cove presumed he was playing a game of some kind), the first three customers of this group were all content to just use the fleshlight, although one of them gave Cove a large dose of pheromones before sending a load of cum through his mouth tube; the pure chemical agents, unhampered by any other competing odors, made Cove's eyes roll back in pleasure as he kept his mouth open and eagerly received his next snack. After those three wads of sperm were gulped down, the eighth patron of the day gave Cove a drink: dark yellow piss flowed down the tube into the tiger shark's muzzle. It was hot, pungently salty, and tasted almost burnt, but all Cove could do was more of the same; he dutifully swallowed the almost endless stream that gushed into his mouth while small tears formed in the corners of his eyes from the powerful taste. However, the stranger on the other side of the wall was kind enough to give him another hit of pheromones, and Cove soon found that he didn't mind the acridness so much anymore. In fact, by the time he swallowed his last mouthful of piss, the taste was almost enjoyable.

While he waited for the next patron, Cove asked a question that had been lurking in the back of his mind.

"Sir, is...'Dozer' your real name...or your master name?" Cove was panting to catch his breath; his head was swimming from the pheromones he'd been given, his throat was burning from the strong taste of urine, and his body was aching for more, more piss, more semen, more jockstraps and musk, more pheromones...more...but he still had the presence of mind to form the question.

Dozer smirked while still looking down at the tablet in his lap. "It's not my real name, but it suits me--had a bunch of friends who said I was like a bulldozer, both because of my size and personality, especially when I'm domming, so there's 'Dozer'. Same thing for you, kid. 'Chomper' isn't your real name, but it suits you nicely, and that's what I'm going to call you. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," Cove replied obediently--his heart fluttered at the name he was told to answer to, the name given to him by his handler.

He didn't know how much time passed in that room. Another stranger came and went after dispensing whiskey, flooding Cove's nose with more sweaty jockstraps and pheromones, and feeding him a fresh load of cum. Another load of cum...another load of cum...another...another...more...more...more piss, more jockstraps, more sweat and musk, more pheromones, more cum, more...more...more...the young tiger shark eventually lost track of how many strangers played with him or how late in the day it had gotten. There came a point when Cove saw the glass mask start to turn opaque, as if it was fading completely to black.

"Just a little something to heighten the fun for you, kid," Dozer mused as the mask turned into an all-encompassing blindfold for Cove, submerging him completely in the dark.

Cove shook his head from side to side, trying to peer through the pitch black mask, but there was nothing to see, nothing to indicate at all what was happening outside...save for the tubes still lodged in his mouth and nose, feeding him more musk, more pheromones, more piss, beer, and semen...Cove moaned and relaxed on the bed, simply submitting himself to the dark. His cock was pressing hard against his chastity device, as if he was being pushed to a new level of arousal by the sensory deprivation.

With his sight removed, he had to rely on his other senses even more; all he could smell were the chemicals and body odor that seeped into his nostrils; all he taste was the ropey, gooey, potent semen that dribbled onto his tongue and the piss and beer that poured down his throat; all he could feel were the padded cuffs bound around his ankles and wrists while the mattress supported him; all he could hear was the occasional tapping of Dozer's fingers on the tablet next to him, the infrequent, large gulps of piss the Saint Bernard still drank, and the soft wash of the air conditioning; and all he could hope was that Dozer would stay sitting next to him and wouldn't leave him alone in this room...forgotten, nameless, faceless, hidden behind a wall for strangers to use. Devouring load after load after load of cum, being nothing more than a urinal or a drain for beer...

And then...

"Hmm, let's see how you handle this, Chomper," Dozer eventually chuckled, shaking Cove from his reverie.

Cove, still blinded under his mask and borderline delirious from all the pheromones running rampant through his system, barely paid attention to the whirring of motors and servos under him. But as the tube in his mouth retracted, leaving just the nostril tubes feeding him the scent of cum and sweat-stained jockstraps, he could feel his arms and legs being pulled wider apart, so he was spread-eagled on the bed now. His limbs were stretched taut, with no room to pull them back at all. All was still for a moment more...then Cove flinched when something soft stroked along the sole of his foot.

"Oh!" he gasped; he tried jerking his foot away, but the cuff around his ankle held him fast.

Another stroke, slow and deliberate from the top of his toes, over the ball of his foot, and all the way down to his heel; Cove snorted involuntarily and jerked again as the object danced lightly over the arch. But then something touched his other foot, repeating the pattern with a methodically tender and teasing brush; he gasped and squirmed, but he could feel that whatever was touching him was fuzzy and delicate, almost like hair, but...no, it was a feather!

"Ooh nooo," Cove groaned, flexing against his bonds.

"Yeah, you might be in trouble, Chomper," Dozer's deep voice sounded from beyond the dark barrier over the tiger shark's face.

Before Cove could get another word out, the feathers practically pounced on his feet like a couple of hummingbirds swooping in for nectar, zinging up and down along his soles. Cove clenched his fingers into tight fists and tried jerking his feet away from the feathers, but it was no use; the cuffs around his ankles were too tight and the feathers kept up their relentless assault. He snorted and squirmed on the mattress, ruffling the sheet under him and straining against the metal arms that held his cuffs; he winced and sweat formed on his brow under the glass dome covering his face; he clenched his jaw and his breath came out in short gasps and spurts while his chest sporadically rose and fell--it was all in an attempt to contain both the unstoppable laughter and vulnerable pleas for mercy welling up inside him. Cove wanted to show that he could restrain himself; he didn't want to completely lose it in front of his handler, he didn't want to break. Not yet, at least.

But that was before he felt more feathers on the tops of his thighs, darting into the sensitive spots where his legs connected to his groin; before he felt additional feathers zipping over his exposed armpits, which made him try to draw his arms inward protectively, but he couldn't move an inch; and before another feather dragged across his throat, making Cove crane his neck downward in an attempt to cover himself, but the feather quickly withdrew and attacked another exposed area on his throat.

"Hnnf! Erk--ah! No, wait, I--mmmf! HAHAHAHA!" Cove tried hard, but the walls came tumbling down. His desperate wheezes turned into helpless laughter that shook him to his core. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he trembled and shook as he howled, his stomach jumping up and down with chortles and snickers. Cove tried to catch his breath, choking on it before it came back out in gasps and more howling, all while he was kicking his feet, shaking his arms, and rolling his head from side to side, futilely trying to cover his sensitive spots. He flexed his toes, which was a mistake--somehow the mechanical arms holding the feathers were so precise and dextrous that they managed to tickle in between the digits, eliciting an even louder and harder round of laughter from the vulnerable tiger shark. He involuntarily arched his back, rolled his wrists and ankles in his cuffs, even tried flopping himself onto his sides--but the feathers didn't stop, no matter how much he rattled his chains as he tried to escape.

"Aha! Ernf! No, plea--hahahaha! Ah fuh--guhuhahahaha!" Cove's tortured laughter rose in pitch and rang around the room. The feathers all over his body seemed to be pressing the attack, intently teasing him even more, if that were possible. "No more--oh fuck--no mooooooooore! Hahahaha...uncle! Mercy!" he managed to wheeze out between his giggles and howls.

"It's not up to me, Chomper." Cove couldn't see Dozer's face through the black, opaque mask, but from the smug tone of his voice, the tiger shark could imagine that the giant Saint Bernard was grinning from ear to ear as he listened to Cove's cries and watched his pathetic flailing.

Cove's stomach ached from the prolonged laughter, his muscles were so tense from his escape attempts, but the tickling continued mercilessly. He had no concept of time, no clue how long he was supposed to endure this agony--but another shot of pheromones up his nostrils drove those concerns even further from his mind. He was just so tired, so weak from laughing and being tickled so much...and it kept going, over his feet, his neck, his armpits, his thighs...

"Oh fuck!" he gasped at last. "I'm gonna..."

Cove felt like he was going to explode, there was no more restraining any part of his body; his bladder simply let go, unable to hold out any longer. A fresh surge of piss streamed out from the exit port in his chastity device and down the tube leading from his slit. Cove still shook like a leaf, but it was as if as soon as he began urinating, the tickling seemed to ease up. The feathers weren't so laser-focused on his sensitive spots, they now lightly swirled over him, not quite teasing him, but not leaving him alone just yet. For a split second he felt like he should have been embarrassed; under more normal circumstances, he would have actually been shamefully pissing his pants, but here, now...there was no shame. In this room, with his handler, there was just letting go and submitting to what had been done to him, to what he couldn't control.

As the last dregs of piss ebbed to a stop, Cove, panting hard, felt the feathers finally lift away from his feet, thighs, armpits, and neck, and he heard the mechanical whirring of the arms folding back into the crate under his bed. For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of the tiger shark catching his breath; he felt like he'd been run ragged, forced to run a marathon without any breaks.

Then he felt the familiar tube push against his lips once more, and Cove obediently opened his mouth for the silicone line to deposit whatever liquid the glory hole patron had decided the tiger shark was going to receive. It only took a second for Cove to feel and taste the warm, acrid rush of piss flowing into his throat, and he began guzzling it down on pure instinct. To him, in his liquored-up and pheromone-addled brain, the piss was as flavorful as the best beer; it was the perfect amount of froth and fizz, and so wonderfully warm as he drank. In the back of his mind, Cove wondered if it was the patron's or his own urine that was bobbing down his eager throat...then he realized that he didn't care. Piss was piss, a drink was a drink, so what did it matter whose tap it had come from? Cove just kept swallowing and swallowing, more and more of the salty, musky, semi-sweet beverage, until the line ran dry...and he received a creamy, gooey surprise on his tongue at the very end. The tiger shark rolled the wad of semen back in his mouth, then happily swallowed it before the tube retracted from his mouth.

Cove couldn't tell how much more time passed while he was under the mask. Dozer remained silent, and the tiger shark was in a euphoric headspace so far removed from his body that he didn't even have the wherewithal to talk in between patrons. More cum, beer, and piss drained into his mouth as if he were a simple sink pipe for people to pour things into. His throat barely burned from the whiskey, tequila, vodka, gin, rum, and bourbon that he was given--he simply swallowed everything as if he were taking sips of water. In the dark of his mask, Cove lost count of how many times he gulped down musky semen, how many shots of pheromones he was given, how many times his limbs were spread apart and brought back together beyond his control, how many more jockstraps he was forced to smell, how many more clients came to play with him, how many times his dick strained against his chastity barrier, how many times he wondered whether Dozer was still by his side...

He was tumbling away into a void, adrift in a blank realm of pleasure and subservience...ready and eager to please...to accept what he was given without question...to thank whoever was on the other side of the wall that seemed miles and miles away...to obey a voice he was waiting to hear...always waiting to hear...

"Do you feel that, Chomper?" At long last, Dozer's deep, resonant tone was like a bass string being plucked in the dark, sending out vibrations to guide Cove back to the mattress.

Cove took a breath and concentrated--yes, he could feel something...two somethings, in fact. They were small and oblong, almost like two oversized pills, and they were connected to cables on the ends...and the pills, Cove realized, were being pushed into his slit. A large finger was sliding them inside, sandwiching them into his genital pouch between the fleshy inner lining of his slit and the hard metal surface of his chastity barrier. One pill was being pushed into the far left side of his groin, and the other was pushed all the way over to the right, so they sat on top of his chastity barrier and made his slit feel even tighter than it already did with both the chastity device and his throbbing cock pushing against it.

"Ungh!" Cove grunted and shuddered when he felt a blunt, rounded object pushing on his anus. His legs were already spread wide apart, but he still involuntarily clenched from the chilled metal against his sensitive hole.

"Open up, Chomper, this is good for you," Dozer's voice commanded.

The tiger shark had no choice but to obey. He took another breath and focused on letting go slowly...slowly...as he relaxed, he felt another oversized, wired pill pop past his sphincter. It felt like it was greased with lube, and the thick finger following it pushed the pill further and further, sliding it inside Cove's until it nudged up against his prostate. The finger withdrew, and Cove soon felt the pill begin to warm with his own body heat.

Then after a moment of silence, a moment of stillness and waiting...

"Guh!" Cove jolted from the sudden buzzing flow in his groin--it was like thousands of pins and needles had begun to dance in his muscles, sending a prolonged wave of tingling warmth through him. He felt it in his ass, making his dick throb hard, and his slit felt like it was being split apart and folded in on itself simultaneously.

"Been waiting to get you started on this little number, kid," Dozer said. Cove was too distracted by the pleasure and twinges of agony he felt radiating through his groin to reply, but it sounded like the Saint Bernard wasn't in the mood for conversation, as he continued, "Took a little while, but we got there eventually. You know, I still need to tell you the second rule that was important to me."

The electricity tapered off for a moment, leaving Cove to catch his breath...then he flinched hard and whimpered--the e-stim unit he'd been hooked up to had shifted into a different mode. It had started in a "flow" setting, a continuous stream of electricity, but now it was "pulsing". After a few seconds of waiting with nothing, a wall of electric stimulation blasted through his pelvis for a beat, then disappeared...then another blast before nothing...Cove was more surprised than hurt, though, the electric shock wasn't too painful.

"The second rule, the one I didn't tell you last night," Dozer went on as Cove huffed and bore the agony of another e-stim pulse, "was for you to always be honest...to yourself, to me, and to Domino. This is serious...and I know you lied on your application to join the club."

Cove's eyes widened under his mask, and his body stiffened in fear; he immediately recalled the blurb from his application that the announcer had read about him before he'd chosen Dozer as his handler: "He loves musk and sniffing smelly pits, boots, and jockstraps; he enjoys a lot of e-stim, CBT, piss play, and edging, the longest he's ever been in chastity was two years, he knows how to worship and serve a strong dom, and he has even gotten stuffed by two Clydesdales at once!"

Yes, he enjoyed sniffing his own tank top after working out on occasion, but it sounded better to be so much more of a musk pig, didn't it? He wished he could have taken two Clydesdales at once; he had yet to take a dick in his ass at all. But he had to say something intriguing on his application--the minute the club saw the words "anal virgin", he would have been rejected, wouldn't he?

But his handler didn't sound angry. If anything, it was as if Dozer had mentioned that they were under the Turello Insurance building, or that the sky was blue--he was just stating it as a fact.

Cove flinched and grunted again, this time more urgently; the electricity had gone up in intensity, so the once-gentle pins and needles now felt like a soft punch of thumbtacks in his gut.

"I'm not upset, though," Dozer said, seeming to confirm Cove's interpretation of his tone. "I can understand why you did it. The thing is," the Saint Bernard sighed, and Cove could imagine him leaning back in his chair to get more comfortable, "in the lies that you fed to the application board, there's a grain of truth. On your application, you didn't tell us what you were or what you'd done--you told us what you wanted to be. And that's what's more important here, really."

Cove whimpered from another shock as Dozer chuckled, "I mean, two Clydesdales at once? One look at you told me everything I needed to know. No way have you done anything remotely like that." Dozer shook his head, then his tone turned sincere as he said. "But you can. I can help you."

The tiger shark groaned from another shock.

"Selfishly, I take it as a personal challenge to help as many boys like you discover the joys of what I and Domino can offer," Dozer said, as if he were confessing to Cove. "I want to help you be the kinky little slut you know you were meant to be. I want to help you love the depraved things you've always fantasized about. I can enable you to do all of it, and I can enable you to enjoy it."

The e-stim went up in intensity again. "Hungh!" Cove huffed, feeling like he'd been winded from the shock.

"Yeah, it's rough, but it sounds like you're loving it already," Dozer said smugly. Cove grimaced, knowing that his handler was right.

"You might think that you can be coy or subtle, you can think that lying might help get you into places like Domino," the Saint Bernard continued through Cove's next guttural grunt, "but a kid like you? Easier to read than the menu down at Floyd's Burgers--Chomper, I know what you're really begging for. It's to be broken."

"Ah!" Cove grunted again from another shock.

"Consciously, you're probably thinking 'Oh, I just want to explore and push my limits a little,'" Dozer said, ignoring Cove's huffing and speaking in a higher, mocking voice. "'Maybe I want to try some piss play. I just want to sniff a crotch and an armpit. I just want a foot in my face. I just want to get my crotch tattooed while I'm getting choked out.'"

Cove couldn't help but snort at his handler's high-pitched, mocking tone--then he huffed and moaned again from a swift shock to his prostate and sheath.

"Yeah, it's funny, isn't it?" Dozer said sardonically. "Maybe you want to have someone push just a couple fingers in your slit or drip a little hot wax on those abs, huh? No, deep, deep down, I see you, I see what you could be."

Cove grunted again--thanks to the shock and the intense sensation surging through his groin, he didn't notice the mouth tube disconnecting from his mask completely...and he didn't notice when something else lined up with it, not until that something forced itself past his lips. Cove spluttered when he felt the thick, oblong, silicone rocket plunge into his mouth. It pushed down in his muzzle until the rounded head rested on the back of his tongue, then slowly withdrew until just the tip of the head remained inside his lips...then it cycled back down again in a rhythmic beat, up...down...up...down...up...down...up and down and up and down and up and down...as the silicone rocket sped up, it took Cove a second to comprehend that he was being forced to orally service a dildo.

"I could see that you want to get corrupted," Dozer went on as Cove slicked up the dildo with his spit in between shocks to his groin. After a few moments, the dildo began to move faster and go deeper, now pushing at the entrance of Cove's throat and stretching his jaw further. It just barely touched on his gag reflex, teasing him on the edge as he huffed and snorted through the pulsing shocks in his groin. His prostate and cock felt like they were being lit up like holiday lights with each surge of electricity, but he kept his head tilted back to better accommodate the dildo plunging in and out of his mouth.

"You want to be led up to the edge."

"Glrk-glrk-glrk!" Cove deeply inhaled a fresh wave of pheromones, and he breathed out as the dildo began to push beyond his tonsils into his relaxed esophagus.

"And you want to be given the opportunity to jump off that edge," Dozer continued while Cove kept his jaws open and his teeth only just scraped past the surface of the silicone dildo on every downward push into his muzzle. "But you, Chomper...you'd rather ask for someone to push you, and then you'd love every second of falling off of that cliff. All you need is that little push, and that'll get you started to being completely broken. Why do you think we're here today? To give you that little push."

Cove's eyes were half-lidded by this point--he was starting to fall into a daze from the repetitive motion of the dildo going up and down and up and down and up and down in his mouth, tickling his throat more and more but not triggering his gag reflex so much anymore. The shocks to his groin began to taper off in intensity, but they still followed a regular pattern that he could settle into. But through his half-lidded eyes, Cove saw that the darkness in his mask began to recede. The lights above him were dim, but slowly brightening little by little, and eventually the opaque blackness completely gave way to clear glass. Cove could now see that a smooth, girthy, purple dildo the length of his forearm was being fed into his mouth through the hole that once held the transparent silicone tube, while Dozer was hunched over in his chair, pointedly watching the tiger shark. And Dozer was grinning softly down at him.

"Want me to let you in on a little secret about initiation?" the Saint Bernard said. He pushed himself up from his chair and leaned over the bed, straddling Cove between his enormous arms so he loomed over the helpless tiger shark. Even from this vantage point, staring straight up at him, it was impossible for Cove to see the Saint Bernard's face thanks to the cap that was in the way. But Cove didn't need to see Dozer's eyes to know that his handler was staring right back at him. He felt so small and pathetic under Dozer's gaze...and he loved it.

"It's not about learning the club's history or repeating little oaths or defining what value you can bring to Domino. It's not about humiliating you or making you feel like you don't belong with us," Dozer continued while the dildo began plumbing further into Cove's throat, drawing out wet, sloppy, glrk-glrk-glrks from the tiger shark. "Initiation is all about getting you to the perfect mental state for the club."

As tired, dazed, and addled as he was, Cove raised his eyebrows, curious.

"Mmhmm, that's right," Dozer mused while he watched the dildo train Cove's throat. He reached with one hand to tenderly cradle the side of the tiger shark's face. "Some of the other boys in your initiation group are going to be doms, and they'll get trained up for it." He stroked the exposed side of Cove's neck, resting his thumb just under the tiger shark's chin--his hand was warm on Cove's skin. "Some of them are going to be nothing more than rubber drones--their initiation tasks are going to drum them out, they're designed to fail."

Another surge of pheromones was pumped into Cove's nose. He breathed in, savoring the scent, and the dildo pushed even deeper. Cove began to forget that he even had a gag reflex in the first place--from the way his body had so quickly acclimated to the dildo, it was as if his throat had been specifically engineered to accept the large column of silicone now sliding in-out-in-out-in-out-in-out of his esophagus. His neck began to bulge repeatedly under Dozer's broad thumb, and Cove felt a sense of warmth, pride, and accomplishment when he saw the big dog's smile, knowing that his handler was pleased with him. "That's the way," Dozer softly crooned. "As for you, I know that there's a cum-hungry, piss-thirsty, ass-munching, subby little bitch behind those shark teeth."

Cove goofily grinned around the wide silicone shaft, and the dildo crept forward millimeter by millimeter on each successive plunge, stretching and widening his throat as it worked its way downward. His esophagus expanded around the dildo, the sides of his throat snuggly wrapping around the shaft that repeatedly dipped past the loosening sphincters that naturally kept the passage closed. Cove struggled to breathe around the tough rubber that bent with the natural curve of his throat, but he wanted to take more...more...more...

"Yeah, I can see it in your eyes, how hungry you are, how desperate you are, that you know it's the right role for you," Dozer said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and vibrating around Cove. "You were born to be nothing more than a cum dump begging for the next load down your throat...the next fist in your ass...the next golden shower...the next tongue down your dick...and everything else."

Cove leaned back, as if offering himself up to Dozer...and at that moment, a particularly strong shock surged through Cove's prostate and slit.

"Hfffffff!" Cove nearly yelled out around the dildo in his mouth, and he bit down--hard.

In an instant, his sharp teeth sliced through the thick silicone and he instinctively swallowed, lodging the dildo deep in his throat. The mechanical arm above him with the other half of the dildo still attached to it continued to cycle up and down uselessly while Cove's eyes widened in surprise. Spluttering and hacking, he tried to get his hands free, to somehow push out the severed chunk of silicone in his gullet.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, Chomper, just breathe, slowly, in and out," Dozer instructed while he swiftly tapped a button on the nearby tablet; immediately, the pumping mechanical arm ground to a halt, the shocks from the e-stim pills stopped, and another mechanical arm quickly plucked the glass mask off of Cove's face.

Without the mask's tubes in his nose, Cove found it only a little easier to breathe, but he couldn't do more than take very shallow breaths while Dozer calmly placed a hand just above his collarbone, right under the bulbous bulge of the dildo's head. He feebly strained in his bonds, his chest heaving as he tried to expel the toy he'd accidentally swallowed.

"Sshhh, sshhh...breathe, easy does it," Dozer murmured comfortingly as he dug his fingers in and pushed upward at the same time.

Cove struggled to do as he was told; he focused on his breath, forcing himself to stay still while Dozer's fingers pushed at his neck. Soon he felt the end of the dildo start working its way backwards out of his throat, pressing against his tonsils. It was as if he was starting to vomit, but he didn't feel the typical gagging that came with puking.

"Open up for me," Dozer said, holding his free hand just above Cove's mouth.

The tiger shark obeyed, stretching his jaws wide, and Dozer lowered his hand into Cove's muzzle. Cove felt his cheeks expand around the sides of the Saint Bernard's broad hand, he could taste the faint traces of salt and musk on the palm pad that slid over his tongue, and drool began to fill his mouth--without being able to swallow, Cove could only let his saliva build up and dribble around his handler's mitt. He stared at the brim of the Saint Bernard's cap--where his handler's eyes would have been--and held steady while Dozer continued pushing up on the dildo from below...until he felt the Saint Bernard's fingers in his throat, where they grabbed onto the end of the silicone shaft that Cove had bitten through. Slowly, gently, Dozer pulled back, withdrawing the severed dildo from the tiger shark's gullet as if he was pulling a snake out of a hole. Cove could feel the lightly stippled texture of the otherwise featureless silicone rubbing smoothly against his esophagus...letting his throat collapse closed around it little by little...until it was finally out, being drawn past his lips. Viscous, frothy, translucent globs and strands of saliva and mucus clung to the head of the purple dildo, and once the broken toy was clear of Cove's mouth, the tiger shark allowed his jaw to shut again. He sucked in a complete lungful of air, catching his breath.

Dozer, however, chuckled, first looking at the dildo and the prominent bite marks on it, then down at Cove, before he sentimentally shook his head. "I think you're on the right track to getting broken just like you want, Chomper." He laid the wet, severed dildo on Cove's rising and falling chest as he continued, "I'm going to help you, and we're going to need a little more work, but we've got plenty of time for that."