Six Weeks in Hell
Alphonse knelt on the cold, concrete floor of the basement. His master, William, stood before him, setting up a range of devices on a small wheeled table. He didn't look down at his slave, and Alphonse did his best to remain perfectly still, awaiting use.
Alphonse was clad in nothing but his red-orange fur and a thick leather collar around his neck. He was lithe, feminine and short, matching his pleasing and submissive personality perfectly. His cock was small, barely five inches, and it quivered in uncontainable excitement, dripping onto his knees.
His master was large and broad, visibly well-muscled like a Greek god. He was a dire wolf, and his silver and black fur had the power to entrance his slave's eyes for hours, when he was permitted to look. Master William stood in blue jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt.
He turned, sharply, a stern look on his face. He looked his slave up and down, noting in particular his quivering erection.
"Up!" he barked, pointing to a wooden chair, bolted to the floor. "In the chair!"
Quickly, the fox rose and nodded curtly.
"Yes, master," was his only reply.
He quickly went over to the hard, straight-backed chair, and sat down. His master, nodded, satisfied, and went to assist his slave. He buckled the various belts bolted to the chair around Alphonse's wrists and ankles. He fidgeted a bit, his arousal and his inability to touch his cock coming together in a vicious cycle.
Without another word, William began to rub and squeeze his slave's little cock, earning a long series and moans and squeals. He continued until his slave began to show signs that he was about to cum, and stopped, abruptly.
In desperation, the slave looked into his master's eyes, pleading silently.
"No, no, my pet," he said, soothingly. "Not for you. Not for six weeks. Like we discussed."
The slave dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling ashamed.
"I know, master," he said, quietly. "I'm sorry."
William chuckled in his throat. "You're forgiven," he said, affectionately. His face became serious again, after a moment, though. "Now hold still."
"Yes, sir," Alphonse replied automatically.
William rolled the table up closer, and took an ice-cube from a Thermos there. He held it to the hot, blood-engorged flesh of his slave's cock. As Alphonse shivered and whined quietly, his master rubbed the ice cube all across the surface of his little stiff length, causing it to lose sensation and eventually retreat back into his sheath.
William turned back to the table, picking up something else, now. He slipped a shining metal ring around the base of Alphonse's cock and balls. Next came a short, chromed-steel cup. It went around the cold, wet flesh of his sheathed cock snugly. The two pieces clicked together securely, and William slipped the shackle of a pad-lock through a set of rings coming from both elements of the device to overlap. William emphasized the key, before dropping it into his pocket.
With that, he undid his pet's restraints.
"Down on your knees, slave," he ordered, sharply.
"Yes, master," Alphonse replied, quickly obeying.
William unzipped his fly, letting his half-erect length fire from crotch. It was more then eight inches long, and as big around as three of the fox's fingers. Lovingly, the slave began to lick up and down its warm, musky length, helping it get fully hard.
William prompted him to continue, and the slave quickly obliged. He took as much of the length as he could in his mouth, sliding back and forth on it, preparing to swallow.
After the third time the slave speared the length down his tight little throat, massaging it with his little moans and whines, William was near the edge.
"Muzzle off!" he ordered sharply. "Just your tongue, now.
Wordlessly, Alphonse obliged, taking long, loving laps of his master's head and length. His own little cock was straining at the walls of its new prison, driving him made with desire while promising no release any time soon.
After a few more seconds of this, William exploded in force, painting his slave's pretty face with his thick seed. The slave put his tongue to it, horny and fully into what was being asked of him.
"This will be how you recognize the climax of our love-making from now on," he rumbled, after having recovered enough to speak. "This will be your reward.
"Thank you, sir," Alphonse squeaked, his voice high and girlish, betraying his excitement.
William smiled, thinking of the fun he would have, watching his slave's balls swell and grow, watching him become more and more desperate, as his constant arousal robbed him of his reserve, his will, his dignity. It was going to be a great month and a half.