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Streex made a beeline for the courts as soon as he saw the weather was good enough.

The blue and purple-striped tiger shark was topless and wearing his lime-green shorts as always - no reason not to show off his chiselled physique, since it was how everyone saw him when he was facing down Dr. Paradigm or any other evil-doers. It was the first clear, warm day after a solid week of grey, overcast, rainy ones. It made the act of crime fighting even harder than usual for him and his fellow mutant sharks. It was around midday, Streex had some time on his hands, and it was perfect weather for him to be active in a way that was a lot more enjoyable.

He hadn't quite decided what he was going to go for just yet as he approached the sports courts downtown. As he approached, he could see the skate park section was already pretty full; though he hadn't brought his skates anyway. There was a group of furs playing ultimate frisbee too, swarming around the plastic disc with impressive stamina. They were skinny, though... Streex didn't want to risk breaking any of them in half.

Streex settled on the basketball court in the end. Eyeballing the court through the chain link fence, he could see a group of players in the middle of a scrimmage. All of them were sleek and muscular, with a few paunchier ones who had difficulty keeping up as they wove together and their sneakers scraped on the concrete. All of them moved with the slightly sloppy enthusiasm of a group of amateurs. All of them wore purple jerseys with gold trim around the sleeves and bright, white numbers on the chest, with purple shorts to match.

The most confusing detail was the apparent name of the team, just above the numbers - Slaves.

For a time, Streex watched from a respectable distance, though he did get the odd look from the group.

By the looks of things, they were running drills. An amateur team, maybe? He couldn't see a coach in sight, though one of them, a wolf, was standing at the sidelines with his arms crossed over a number 1.

He was staring at Streex a bit more than the others, even as he barked out instructions.

"Partner up! Defence drills! Begin!"

"Yes Ma-!" an enthusiastic tiger was elbowed in the ribs by one of his team-mates. They made a point of not looking at Streex.

...Something was odd about that. Intriguing, too. Streex had to have a look and find out more about them. Just to make sure there wasn't anything sinister going on.

"Hey hey!" Streex slipped past the door onto the court and approached, smiling his sharp-toothed grin. "Nice jerseys, dudes!"

The look they gave him stopped him in his tracks. They all looked to the number 1 jersey, who pushed off from the fence and kept his arms crossed.

"Can we help you with something?" the wolf asked, with a crooked eyebrow and a who-do-you-think-you-are smirk.

"Oh, I was just here to practice!" Streex rolled his shoulders back and pulled one of his feet behind him to limber up. "I haven't seen you guys before... and I haven't shot hoops in a while!"

The pause was awkward, but mercifully short.

"Sure thing, join in," the wolf said. "We might have a jersey that fits you too."

"Oh, no, I don't think that's-"

"Fourteen, find the shark a jersey!"

A slightly stocky white rabbit shot to attention. "Yes, m-right away!"

He hurried to a corner of the court where various gym bags were stacked up. There was a strange outline between his legs, prominent even in the loose shorts...

"You answer to your team numbers, huh?" Streex asked Number 1.

"It helps keep cohesion. And it keeps a clear hierarchy." The wolf's smile broadened. "The higher numbers answer to the lower numbers. So it stands to reason I'm the Master here."

"Master?" Okay, that was suspicious. "Don't you mean Coach?"

"I meant what I said," the wolf replied. He was smaller and shorter than Streex, but he still radiated an intense confidence that made Streex feel like he might shrink.

"Huh." Streex nodded, the gears turning in his head. "Well, cool."

"Want to show us what you can do?" the wolf asked, picking up a ball and underhand throwing it to the shark. "Maybe we'll let you join."

Streex dribbled and pondered, looking at the surrounding team of young players. He hadn't noticed it until now, but all of their eyes were the same colour. An icy blue with little rings of purple like ripples in a pond. He didn't stare too long but he could swear they were moving, like oil paint in water.

"Yeah, sure, I'll play for a little bit." it might be a good way to suss them out before he warned the other Street Sharks.

"I've got it, Sir!"

Streex turned to see the rabbit had returned, holding out another jersey. Streex was surprised they had something that would fit him at all, let alone one that would fit comfortably. He looked at the jersey, and at the number on it - 19. The lowest he'd seen was 14.

"I guess I'm on the bottom rung, huh?" Streex said.

"You have to start somewhere if you're joining us," One said. "Try it on."

"Hey, I didn't say I was joining you!"

It might be a good way to throw them off the scent, he figured. He pulled the jersey on, and was surprised by the quality of the soft, breathable fabric. He barely even noticed he was wearing it. It also complemented his skin.

"Huh... I look great!" he said, unable to stop himself from drawing into an instant grin.

"You do." One said. "You like the number? We might be able to swap."

"Nah, it's cool, I don't mind being number 19." Streex said.

He felt good saying that. He didn't mind it. He felt a little more at ease now.

"Now, work up a sweat."

Streex felt odd for a moment, like something clicked into place in the back of his head. He put it out of his mind and got down to practice.

He found they were all pretty competent players, and One's coaching from the side was really easy to follow. He felt like he was getting a proper work out, and endorphins flooded his body. The warmth, the moisture and the scent of sweat filled the court, almost intoxicating.

The next hour or so melted away, and as the midday sun passed, Streex was as exhausted and sweaty as the rest of the team.

"Hit the showers, Slaves!" One snapped his fingers and pointed to the brick building that housed the changing rooms.

"Yes Master!"

Streex caught himself about to say it too, to his surprise. He didn't feel like he was falling under their control - he was pretty sure he would know what being mind-controlled felt like. But he found himself unable to stop from following along. His hands moved to the lower hem of the jersey, and as he looked down, he realised that his lime green shorts had been swapped out for purple ones to complete the look.

He didn't remember that happening.

He slowed down his walk as the others peeled ahead of him.

"Hurry up!" Fourteen said. "You're slower than me!"

"Yes, right away!'' The same compulsion pushed through Streex's mind again, and he followed just behind. The rabbit lingered to allow him to walk alongside, and slid his hand down the back of Streex's loose shorts.

"H-hey..." the shark protested a little, but didn't stop.

"I gotta try it out," Fourteen said. "I've always been the lowest-numbered player.. I've never had the chance to have someone do whatever I say."

"What...?" Streex's head felt warm and fuzzy, and that heat pooled in his crotch as the paw groped him. He didn't mind it. In fact, he loved it. Submitting and letting the rabbit have his way felt... strangely right.

"I dunno if I'm allowed to let you in on the secret, but..."

"Fourteen!" One barked. "Hands off him!"

"Yes Master!" Fourteen did so instantly, with an enthusiastic moan, and One snapped his fingers and beckoned. Streex and Fourteen followed quickly like obedient puppies.

"I'm going to be the one to teach Nineteen how things work. Come with me, Nineteen."

"Y-yes Master." the more he obeyed, the more he heard that 'click' in the back of his head, like a finger-snap. The outside world blurred and faded as he followed close behind One.

No one was taking their jerseys off. They crowded the changing room, the scent of their sweat thickening like fog. All eyes were on him at once.

"Now, everyone, it's time to welcome Nineteen. Make him understand just what being part of the team is all about. Kneel, slaves."

At once, all of them dropped to their knees, as did Streex. His trousers were bulging, and he felt a burning desire to pull down his shorts.

"Already horny, hm?" One stood over him imperiously, smiling. "Show us how horny you are. Take out your cock."

"Cocks..." Streex corrected, as he fished out his two dicks. His hands groped and stroked as he looked up at the jersey clad wolf. He looked so sexy, so irresistible, how could he not obey?

"Stop touching." One said, snapping his fingers. Nineteen obeyed, looking up deferentially. "Good slave."

"Th-thank you Masterrr..." Nineteen - no, Streex - groaned. Obeying was giving him an intense, incomprehensible head rush. He felt like he was losing himself...

"Everyone gets a turn," One said. "Two, you can go first."

The muscular panther with the Two on his jersey approached, confidently obeying. He snapped his fingers and pointed to his crotch.

"Sniff, Nineteen."

"Yes, Master," Streex said before burying his snout right into the shorts, and the musky shaft just beneath it. Soft and warm and mind-numbing. It deepened the haze, and the intense thrill of being subjugated. They were all smaller than him, weaker than him, and yet he couldn't think of anything but submitting to them.

Every single one of them took their turn on Nineteen. Some did the same as Two and making him nuzzle their shafts, others pressed him onto the floor and stepped all over him like he was a doormat.

Six was merciful enough to let Nineteen stroke his cock again, shortly before Eight buried his nose in the cleft between the two dicks and relished the taste.

"Don't cum," One reminded him. "You're not allowed to soak your jersey with your cum until everyone's had their turn."

"Yes Muh-Masterr...!" Nineteen moaned and whimpered. He was already on the edge as it stood, and there were still seven more to go...

He slipped into a total fugue, his mind totally focused on his throbbing dicks and the thrill of obedience, his perception turning into a soupy mess of pleasure.

His breaths were sharp and desperate, his jersey stuck to his hot body, and pre-cum dribbled down his knuckles and stained his shorts.

"Soon, Nineteen." One whispered into his ear. "Soon you'll be a real member of our team. Once you finish, once you cover yourself with your seed, you'll have locked your place in with us. Forever. And ever. Don't you want that?"

"Yuh.... " Nineteen drooled through his sharp, gritted teeth, his brow pushing in, his eyes crossing. "Yes, M-maste-"

"Cum." One snapped his fingers, and Nineteen's scream of pleasure echoed and bounced around the acoustics of the changing room. His team mates cheered as he painted himself with one of the most powerful orgasms he'd ever experienced. It made him fall onto his back and arch his hips upward as he thrust into the air and let jet after jet arc and drape over him - as well as Fourteen, who was immediately next to him.

"Let's keep welcoming him," One said, and the group descended on him, sitting on him and wiping their bodies on him. Ensuring he would be blackout drunk on their scent and taste. Nineteen whined and groaned and allowed his mind to switch off totally... happy to be there, happy to be perfectly obedient. He wanted to stay like this, smothered by his team mates forever...

However, something made them leap to attention off of him and crowd around a new arrival with excitement. Nineteen sat up slowly, dazed, shaking his head as his blurry vision came back into focus on the little white and purple blob.

They looked... familiar...

"Number 0 is here! Master is here!"

"No no, don't mind me!" The little white furred fox with a long braid of blonde hair looked a little comical in his outfit - the jersey he wore almost went down to his knees. But the number in the middle read Zero. The only thing lower than One. One practically bounded over to him, falling to his knees and presenting his head for scritches.

"I'm just checking in on my boys, and my new invention..." he grinned, rolling his fingers along the back of One's ear. His eyes fell on Nineteen. "Oh! Hey Streex! Nope, sorry, it's Nineteen now isn't it?"

"Yes, Master..." Nineteen panted, dazed and covered with spunk, surrounded by the sweaty bodies of his superior team-mates.

"That look suits ya~" Zero said. "Glad to have you on Sanmer's Slaves, buddy! Now, get back to your fun, all of you. Pretend I'm not even here."

"Yes, Master!" the fifteen voices echoed through the small room, making the fox wince.

"Agh! Not quite so loud, please! The acoustics in here are awful!"

With that, they got back to work, a mess of purple fabric and sweaty flesh. Sanmer set up a little chair in the back, and began to rub himself. His eyes were naturally drawn to his newest acquisition.

"Hey, Nineteen! Faster with that hand, if you please!" Sanmer snapped his fingers in the shark's direction, and he dutifully kept masturbating, faster than before, his rubbing hand smearing his cum all over his lower body. His eyes fluttered and he groaned loudly, arching forward and bucking his hips hard. He was still fully erect; it probably wasn't going to go down any time soon..."

"The more you stroke, the better you feel, right?" Sanmer said. "Keep it up, and you'll learn to love being the lowest-ranked team member."

"Yes... n-number Zero..."

Sanmer grinned. He began to fantasise about what the rest of the Street Sharks would look like in the same outfit. "Nineteen" couldn't be the lowest on the rank forever, after all.

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