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Slave Camp - Second Servings

The bright lights of the hallways forced Emerson to keep his eyes tightly shut. He had to walk quickly to keep up with the cuffs overhead, pulling him along as they moved down the track. The pace was faster than before, he was sure - he wasn't walking *that* awkwardly. Not quite, anyhow. Probably.

The red fox had already grown to heartily dislike Master Gowns. At the end of the costuming class, when he'd managed to strip the lizard-girl behind him naked and put the clothes away, he'd been left with her strap-on still knotted up in his rear. Along with a series of painful welts on his muzzle from Master Gowns' whip, and one on his crotch. But that wasn't what had left him mincing his way along. That would be Master Gowns' order to Elle to yank out before the knot on her strap-on had fully deflated. It was still bobbling on her hips, he knew, because they'd already been bound to the overhead cuffs by then and it kept poking at his tail.

Where Kerra was, he wasn't sure. She'd been at the front of the line, separated from him by nearly the entire rest of the class. Usually they were together, and he could keep track of her by her tail swishing excitedly across his groin... or his against hers, if they were in the other order. His stomach told him it was time for dinner, though, even if his rear end told him it was time to lie down and be very still for a while, so he had a strong suspicion.

As it turned out, he was right. Kerra had been split off, to be trotted to the backstage area she'd first seen at lunch. The bright lights were already on overhead, and she'd started shivering the moment she saw the backside of the drawn curtains, remembering how scared she'd been at lunch! Fortunately, help was at hand... in the form of Master Spots.

"Hello, Kerra-girl!" he cheerfully chirped, sliding right up against her, then behind her. His ever-present erection rubbed into the small of her back, and he hugged around her waist... then dropped one hand to her groin and lifted the other to her breasts. He kissed her on the back of the head and began rubbing at her, fingers flexing in *just* the right ways. "All ready for your second show? Shhh, shhhh, calm down, don't get worked up now," he cooed in her ear.

"This one's going to be a much gentler start than the first one, all right? Say 'Yes, Master,'" the dalmatian instructed her. Kerra tried to keep from squirming at the prospect and, as ordered, replied, "Yes, Master." He grinned and nuzzled her cheek.

"That's the spirit! Now don't you worry about a thing. I'm going to help relax you with a nice fingerbang, and then I'll get you down from the cuffs once you're ready. You're going to be out on stage, but you don't have to do anything naughty, not even walk around naked - we'll let you wear clothes and everything! Won't that be nice? Say 'Yes, Master Spots, thank you.'"

Kerra was already melting. He was maddeningly good with his hands. "Yes, Master Spots, thank you," she moaned, leaning back against him, body relaxing in heartbeats, tail hiking. He rubbed his erection beneath it, and the feel of his pants pressed to her bare bottom made her moan all the harder. His fingertips caught on her nipple just for an instant, and she felt them start to squeeze, just for a moment, before his thumb brushed its tip and she couldn't hold back a gasp.

"Mmm... You know, Kerra-girl, one of these days, I'm just going to *have* to bring you and your Emmy into my room, tie you both up kissing each other, and then I'll just riderideride those perfectly beautiful tight vulpine rears of yours until they've loosened up enough I don't have to spend all my time fantasizing about them anymore. After you've learned to put on a show, though, so work hard at it!" he giggled in her ear. She giggled back, between gasps and groans of pleasure. His finger curled between her folds, and she thrust back against them, throat humming out her murr.

Emerson's cock was rock-hard. The vixen couldn't tell that her moans were being caught by the hidden microphones scattered about the stage and the entire affair was being broadcast over speakers in the hallways. Some foxes get jealous about their mates having sex with others. Emerson thought it was quite possibly the most arousing thing in the world. His memory danced back to one wonderful night...

***

He'd bound Kerra bent over the kitchen table. She loved bondage, absolutely adored it; she'd been wet before he got the knots tied, and when he pulled her skirt off and tore off her skirt, she'd been panting. The ballgag had made her draw her tongue back, and muffled things a bit, but she'd still moaned very distinctly. She'd lifted her tail in open silent begging for him to mount her.

He hadn't obliged. He often didn't; the sight of her wriggling in eager, needy frustration was a sight to make his pulse quicken all by itself, and he liked to draw out his amusement. That night was no exception. He bent, instead, to very, very lightly touch the tip of his tongue to her delicate pink flesh, tasting her arousal. It was musky and delicious, as always. She tried to press back, but he'd bound her too tightly to let her get away with that.

Emerson placed his palms on her well-toned buttocks, feeling her soft, well-maintained fur against his paws, and squeezed, gripping hard and tugging them apart. His approving eye landed on her tight little rosebud, so warm and so strong... but he wasn't going to launch right to work there, either. His hands stroked to the sides and up, out over her hips, then to her ribs, petting at her fur with his strong fingers.

He picked up a hairbrush that he'd set on the table next to her; Kerra felt the movement and gave a shiver. Part of her fun of the bondage was knowing that sometimes Emmy would decide to remind her that naughty vixens sometimes get tied up for fun, sometimes to have the naughtiness reprimanded! She murred on the gag, though, as he began slowly brushing her fur, stroking down her back and sides, then over her head.

Kerra liked taking care of her fur. She didn't have a great many expensive tastes, but she did go through quite a bit of fur conditioners, gels, shampoos, and other assorted hair-care products. She loved taking baths with Emerson and getting her mate to help lather her up - beyond the inevitable fantastic sloshy sex that got water and suds all over the place, he could reach the tricky spots for her. Having him brushing her while she was tied up therefore made her close her eyes in bliss.

She felt a wonderful mix of aroused and relaxed when he finished, drawing the brush one final time down her tail, then flicked her ears at the sound of foil tearing. A sharp snapping noise followed... and then she groaned warmly when the latex covering now over the handle of her hairbrush touched her sex.

The handle drove easily inside, thrusting like a modestly-sized dildo past her labia, until the stiff bristles rubbed up her thighs and reached her groin, stopping it from going further. Emerson's other hand rested on her rear end, her tailbase caught between his thumb and the side of his palm. The brush's handle was a bulging rectangular solid, with the sides curved out and the corners rounded; she could feel the corners twisting inside her as Emerson masturbated her with it.

The thrusting didn't last for long. Kerra mrmmphed on her gag and tried to turn her head, but with her arms pulled tightly forward she couldn't twist her neck enough to see. Emerson set the brush down on her back; she could feel her own wetness on the handle. He came around to the other side of the table - and the last thing she saw before he tugged a blindfold onto her face was his playful grin.

Kerra gave a sharp grunt a moment later when the blunt tip of the handle pressed firmly to her pucker! She squirmed, but didn't squeeze against it, and in short order her beloved Emmy had wedged the entire handle under her tail. It was just angular enough to be uncomfortable, and it didn't help that he wasn't stopping there; in a slow, careful pace, Emerson pumped her ass with her own favorite hairbrush.

Kerra wasn't against anal; far from it. It wasn't one of her favorite forms of sex-play either, though; mostly she liked feeling Emerson's arms around her when he decided to take her that way. She was used to it, and it didn't take long before the steady working at her rear got her to loosen up.

When Emerson felt the handle sliding easily back and forth, he grinned and set the brush aside. A set of anal beads quickly replaced it; the first three went in easily, the fourth took a little nudge, the fifth took a bit of a push, and the sixth made Kerra whine and jiggle her hips, but it fit, just barely. He stripped the condom back off from the brush's handle, and two quick smacks, one to each cheek, helped take Kerra's mind from her strained anus.

The athletic tod stepped back a moment to admire his squirming, wildly-aroused vixen. The handle on the big last bead came off a protrusion, thick and long enough to be poking out of her rear, not letting her close up. But that wasn't quite enough... not for what he had planned!

Kerra mrmmphed on the rubber ball in her mouth as she smelled her own scent, faintly; the stiff tip of something poked her in the nose, and she giggled. Emerson grinned again and poked her a second time with the dildo, one she'd been using the previous night, then stroked it across her cheeks playfully. She wriggled as he teased her with the dildo, wiggling it over her face, then reaching under her to push it back and forth between her breasts several times.

The natural progression followed; Kerra was soon wagging her tail, feeling the phallus rubbing along her netherlips. Being tied up never failed to get her excited - and using the kitchen table, he always played into her love of being his good little slave by ordering her, once she'd been untied, to lick up all the 'mess' she'd left on it. Lapping her own honey off of the smooth wood while he watched always made her toes curl.

As did having a fairly large dildo drive in one firm, smooth stroke inside her vagina. Kerra arched and sucked in a breath around the ball-gag, then murred harder as it worked back and forth. She relaxed back down to the table and wagged her tail, moaning in bliss as her big studfox brought her off!

It didn't take long at all before a hot cry of pleasure poured around the ball-gag, The sound hadn't stopped ringing in the room before the blindfold came off - and while the toy kept moving, Emerson grinned and petted Kerra's nose with his hand. The one that wasn't holding hte blindfold. "Hey, hot stuff. I told a friend of mine I'd let him try my vixen. Don't try to look, don't ask who it is, and don't try to find out. I won't tell and he won't tell and no one else knows." He winked at her. "You need something to keep you wondering."

Kerra's eyes widened up at him in surprise, and the edges of her ears went red... and then Emerson fitted the blindfold back in place to ensure she wouldn't be able to see. A thick, blunt tip pressed to her folds, still dripping her juices, and began carefully to push in.

Kerra was already whimpering before the tip was in. Whoever it was clearly came equipped with an equine phallus, and while it couldn't have been one of the big horses, since that'd pretty well split her open... it was at the very least a very big pony having a crack at her! He was patient, working his way in with slow grinds, a tiny wiggle at a time, letting her body adjust - and it was a good thing he was, because even wet with a fresh climax, he was having to push!

Emerson watched in sheer glee as his friend, a chestnut-brown pony, carefully covered Kerra. Her trembling body, her flaring nostrils as she panted, her flitting ears... it was fantastic. The equine had deliberately gagged and then muzzled himself to ensure he wouldn't let out any accidental word that Kerra might be able to recall and figure him out by voice; in silence and by careful fits and starts he tucked himself inside.

He was a bit over halfway in before he stopped and gave a nod to Emerson - he might've been able to go further, but he wasn't comfortable doing so and being sure he wouldn't hurt her. Emerson nodded; he thought Kerra could easily fit more, but he wasn't about to risk losing the mood. The pony bent down to slide his hands under Kerra's chest, cupping her breasts and fingering her nipples.

Kerra murred and moaned together, almost a wheeze of pleasure, once she got over the initial surprise. Not knowing who was mounting her, knowing she'd never find out, it made it exciting... a little scary, but definitely kinky and exciting! The male pulled back, much faster than he'd gone in in the first place, and then firmly thrust right back in. Feeling his quickened pace, a frisson of fear ruffled the fur over Kerra's spine - what if he accidentally pushed too hard? But he was careful, even buried in her snatch, plowing her; he stopped at the same depth as before, maybe a tiny bit deeper.

Emerson's tip dripped pre. His hands gripped the edge of the table. All those little grunts and groans out of his lovely Kerra's mouth, all those spectacular quivers of her body, that tail wagging against the pony's belly... superb.

It wasn't long at all before Kerra garbled out a cry on her gag; the size differential was just enough to ensure both she and the pony were having an amazingly close squeeze, barely able to fit, and grinding hard as a consequence. Less than a minute later the pony's back arched and his heavy balls drew tight, his hot seed pouring up inside the loosened vixen. He panted, laying atop her, gave her nipples a slow, firm pinch... then drew out and began dressing.

When the door closed behind the pony, Emerson stood up, cock bobbling. He reached down and took the blindfold and gag from Kerra, leaving her bound bent over still. He smiled to her, and she weakly murred. He crouched to rest his tip atop her nose and asked, "Now what do you say?" She licked up at his shaft and groaned out, "Thank you, Sir!"

Emerson murred in delight as Kerra took up the task of finishing him off, closing her eyes to keep from getting any spunk in them. When he was finished, he patted her ears and put the ballgag back in place. "G'night, my luscious little vixy-Kerra pet," he murmured to her... and she quivered in delight as he left the room, leaving her to squirm happily in her bondage all night long.

***

Kerra squirmed, hanging from her wrists; Master Spots had brought her to eager, moaning readiness, then left her hanging! Not for long, though; he returned with a set of pink panties, stained with semen, still warm from whichever male was wearing them in the costuming class. He bent down and gripped her ankle, making her step into them, then pulled them up to let her feel them snug wetly to her crotch.

The crimson vixen gave a short, hot gasp as the dalmatian snugged up to her from behind again and slid his hand down into her panties. Somehow, feeling him reaching into that scrap of fabric felt more exciting, more illicit, when she had that tiny illusion of covering than when she'd actually been naked.

He brought her deftly near to climax, then eased her down just a hair; he breathed into her ear, "Say please."

"Please!" Kerra moaned out immediately, and her back arched as his finger twitched... *almost* just right. "Say what now?" he murmured.

"Please, Master!" Kerra corrected herself - then cried out as he let her come, his thumbclaw grazing her clitoris just barely, somehow just enough to make it explode with knee-wobbling pleasure. In the hall, Emerson whined with arousal, his cock pulsing and *demanding* he get some release! The skirt, not long enough to reach her knees, but enough to actually hide the panties, swirled around her waist while she was still coming down.

Kerra murred and rubbed her cheek on Master Spots' as he fastened the skirt on, then slid his hand down it yet again - this time not into the panties as well. He pressed his talented fingers to her crotch, pushing the silk up and then slightly into her body, letting her feel them bunched under the skirt. His other hand lifted... and her wrists were freed, letting her stand.

Master Spots held up a shirt - blue, buttons down the front, a nametag already pinned to the left breast reading 'SLAVE.' She slid her arms into it and buttoned it up while he watched; the top two buttons wouldn't close, unable to pull shut across her cleavage. Given the thorough physical knowledge of her body the trainers had already displayed, she was sure it wasn't an accident that the shirt was too small. It pressed her breasts together, making her already-significant cleavage downrigth impressive.

He pointed to a spot next to a table and chair that had been set up at center stage. "Kneel there. Your job is to do whatever I say. When you obey, you will say 'Yes, Master.' Got it, Kerra-honey?" Kerra nodded. "Yes, Master." He laughed. "Smart girl!" Kerra went and knelt, her back to the curtain.

Emerson glowered as he found himself again in the back of the three rows making up his 'class.' The other slaves had ended up in other random positions, but there in front of him again was Elle's tight, scaly ass, tail flicking across his belly - she was well aware he was there, and that if he wanted dinner, he was going to have to invite her to grind on his head. His stomach growled, though, and he knew just as well that he was going to do it.

The cuffs released the slaves all at once, letting them down onto the floor. The loudspeaker firmly played out, "Slaves will now kneel and recite the Meal Litany." Not quite in unison, but closely, they knelt down - as did the other slave groups waiting in their own rows of eight spaced around the room. Some of the groups were attended by trainers rather than watched over by the guards; these groups were far faster to kneel, and more coordinated, with the sharp crack of whips explaining why, landing on laggards.

Emerson lowered to his elbows, as did the rest; Elle's lifted tail was before him, presenting him with her wet, ready privates. He couldn't deny it was a fantastic sight, no matter how thoroughly aggravating he might find her. The fox's rock-hard erection pressed against his belly, and it was much less galling than he'd imagined to stick his nose up against the pink flesh showing between her folds and take a sniff.

The musky, interestingly distinct smell of aroused Elle made Emerson's heart thump and his balls draw tight, urging him to lunge forward and cover the source of that wonderful odor. He stilled his legs, though, and repeated the first sentence of the chant.

"By your smell, I know you to be a slave, eager and willing."

Letting his tongue drive out to lick at her warm, receptive flesh was far less than a chore. Sweet feminine musk greeted his taste buds, and he felt pre run from his tip.

"By your taste, I know you to be a slave, used well at your Master's pleasure."

He pressed his muzzle forward, rubbing her tender flesh with his soft facial fur, feeling it becoming quickly matted with her genital fluids. His tongue licked at his lips, tasting more of her, and he had a simply fantastic close view of her hips squirming at the feel of his fur between her legs. Visions of an arching, screaming lizard-girl beneath him raced through his head, and Emerson dimly thought that perhaps there'd been something in the hall outside to get him quite so eager... but if so, he couldn't find it in him to muster any resentment, not with his body thrumming so hard in desire!

"By your feel, I know you to be a slave, needy and ready. I invite you to sate the need of your loins against me while I sate the needs of my stomach."

Emerson happily lowered his muzzle into the bowl of crunchy kibble waiting between Elle's knees, his tail lifting and wagging as her hips lowered to gleefully grind on the back of his head. He murred even as strong hands gripped his hips and a thick, somehow familiar cocktip nestled under his tail. A voice chuckled behind him.

"That sub-audible hypnotic conditioning in the hall's a great thing, isn't it?" rumbed the voice of the dragon guard who'd tackled him at lunch when he tried to break for the stage. "First week or so, you're all going to be a lot of eager little subs at mealtimes. Don't you like that?"

Emerson hardly paid attention to the words; everything was just too nice! He happily murred and chomped at his kibble, closing his eyes in bliss as a stiff, knobbly cock drove into his rear and a strong, large hand reached around his hip to grip and pump his aching member.

The curtain lifted, and Kerra's eyes wide wide, her spine stiffening. The whole camp was out there, looking... well, not all looking, mostly with their heads between each others' knees, but the front rows looking, at least. Her mind went blank, or her thoughts whizzed by too fast to catch hold of any one of them, she wasn't sure which. She froze, knelt with her back to them, looking without seeing up at the canine in front of her. He said something she didn't catch, then repeated it.

"The salad, Kerra," came Master Spots' voice from in front of her. Her body shook slightly, and almost inaudibly she replied, "Yes, Master." Her muscles were tense... but he wasn't asking for anything naughty, just getting him a plate of salad, wasn't even calling her slave or toy or pet or anything, she even had clothes on and... she realized she hadn't moved and forced herself to rise.

Forcing her limbs to move took all of Kerra's concentration; a river of ice water seemed to be flowing down her back, and she was dimly aware that for the first time all day she *wasn't* wet and thinking about sex. The table was the only thing she could see, as though looking through a tunnel down her muzzle. A plate of salad was waiting; she hadn't seen it be placed there.

Kerra's hands took the plate, and when the cool ceramic touched her fingertips it somehow cut through the fog of fear. She'd been a waitress in college for a while, and that old experience reminded her - don't drop the dishes! It gave her a focus, something to fixate on, and her paws steadied. As she picked up the plate and turned, the fear pulled back, the black tunnel fading and letting her gather herself.

Her heart was still racing, but the fear wasn't nearly so paralyzing; all she had to do was deliver the plate, she could do that! She glanced over at the kneeling slaves and smirking trainers, and her muscles untensed a little more. Everyone was too busy with much naughtier things than watching her... and the shirt and skirt rubbed comfortingly on her body, they couldn't even see the mess on her belly. Before she knew it, she'd walked back and set the plate down before Master Spots, then knelt back down.

"Good girl, Kerra. Very good," he praised her, quietly, not announcing it for the room to hear, just for her. "It's just some serving, nothing to be worried about, see?" She nodded her head a little, and found herself able to reply, "Yes, Master," in more than a whisper. He beamed at her, then turned to his salad.

The next trip to get the soup was easier, and the trip to get a pitcher of water was easier still. By the walk to get the entree, Kerra was feeling much more like herself again, her tail starting to wag a little and feeling her normal, vivacious self. Master Spots' encouraging smile and flirtatious wink promised rewards, and she found herself getting eager to see what he would do to her if she did a good job...

Her heart leaped back up into her throat when Master Spots pushed the empty entree plate back, though. "Kerra-honey, you need to push yourself and answer honestly now. Can you take off your shirt and go get dessert?"

Kerra's throat was tight, and her fingers clenched to her palms. Take off her shirt? Show off her breasts and the mess all over her bellyfur to... to everyone? Just walk around like... like some easy... She whimpered. Master Spots reached down to stroke her muzzle lightly, as though soothing a pet, and she did feel a little soothed. He waited patiently for her to reply.

"Y... yes, Master... I can try..." Kerra chattered out.

Master Spots gave his head a little flick. "Tell me for sure, honey. If you say you can and you can't, then I'll punish you. If you say you can't, then we'll take a littler step. It depends on just how much you really want to be a good slave and how much you're just playing."

Kerra whined slightly. Of course he'd say that. She gave her head a little nod. "Yes, Master," she said, trying to make it come out sure... but he smiled and ran a finger along her cheek. "Brave girl. I knew you'd give it your best."

Kerra's hands shook as she lifted her fingers to the buttons down the front of the shirt, and she whimpered... but the first button came out, letting the short go a little looser, not binding her breasts so tightly, and it became a bit easier to breathe. Which made sense, really.

Her tail was pulled down between her legs, and Master Spots was merciful enough to let her get away with it while she was working so hard to obey. The next button came out, then the next... and then her hands had calmed from the familiar task, getting the rest almost-calmly. The shirt hung open, baring her breasts to Master Spots.

The dalmatian smiled and petting her cheek again. "You have lovely breasts, Kerra." He didn't push, didn't repeat the orders, just praised her soft, ample busom. She whimpered anyhow. But she fought against stiff muscles and icy back to shrug her shoulders and let the shirt fall down. Her shoulders hunched, and every set of eyes in the room seemed to be boring into her back!

Quite to the contrary, though, most of the slaves were still knelt down, muzzles in bowls. A few of the guards and trainers, plus some of the front row slaves were, but that was it. It didn't help her relax, but she pressed on anyhow. The dark tunnel around her vision was tighter than ever, and it felt like her nipples were downright stinging with tension, and her tail was cramping from how tightly it was pulled between her legs - but she was moving.

The cold bowl on her fingertips didn't bring her back to herself; her mind was racing aimlessly, her body moving on an odd mix of autopilot and sheer concentration. She didn't even recall the walk back or setting the bowl down before Master Spots, her pupils dilated and her breath short and fast. Her eyes focused abruptly as he reached down and slapped her muzzle with two fingers.

"Kerra. Get ahold of yourself," he said sharply. "I said, sit down and eat." Her eyes numbly followed his pointing finger - to the chair that had been set without her noticing across from Master Spots. He pushed the bowl over in front of the other chair. Kerra looked wildly up to Master Spots, then scrambled up into the seat. He looked expectantly at her, then gestured down at the bowl. "Eat."

Kerra looked down. An ice cream sundae was waiting. She picked up the spoon and looked up wildly. Master Spots smiled at her. She looked down and took a bite. She felt promptly calmer. He winked. "See? A little bite to eat helps. Or it could be what's in there." She blinked at him; he nodded back. "As you may have noticed, we have access to and proficiency with a large pharmacopia." She nodded again and kept eating, feeling herself calming more and more with every bite.

Emerson was murring steadily, his tongue rubbing at the thoroughly-clean surface of his bowl, eyes closed as the lion who'd taken over after the dragon finished continued thrusting. He didn't even notice the rest of the class rising and lifting their wrists to the cuffs. Even the lizard-girl's thighs rubbing up along his cheeks as she stood failed to get his attention.

The other slaves filed out of the room while Kerra ate. She was quietly murring and wagging her tail, feeling very warm and cozy, not even noticing the departure of her audience. When Emerson, the dragon, and the two lions were the only ones remaining in the room, the dragon and unoccupied lion lifted the tod to his feet and hooked his wrists to the cuffs. He didn't move, though.

Master Spots smiled and stood up, ordering, "Get up, Kerra." She obeyed, wagging her tail, and his grin widened. "Lay on the table on your back. You're going to put on a show for Emmy. Won't that be nice?" The 'put on a show' phrase cued up her stage fright, driving her to look wildly around - and she blinked, seeing the empty chamber! She got up to her feet and looked around, but no hidden watchers manifested themselves.

Master Spots grinned cheerfully as Kerra quite visibly relaxed, even more than the medication had induced, and laid herself back atop the table. Emerson murred happily, watching his lovely vixen spreading her legs for the nice spotty dog, feeling the lion's short, barbed cock pumping in his rear, the big feline's furry paw pumping his cock, and was thoroughly convinced that the world had reached a peak of perfection.

Master Spots reached down to grip Kerra's ankles, lifting them up; her tail wagged and she happily bent her legs over his shoulders. Emerson let out a happy moan as he watched the dalmatian opening his pants, letting his cock spring out to a quivering readiness, then promptly plunge it into his mate. The dragon laughed, his voice deep and almost roaring, as Emerson's tip jetted out his spunk. "Seems he likes watching his girl get taken!"

Emerson could only moan along with Kerra as the two of them happily performed...