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Jake was experiencing the unique sense of euphoria that a college student feels in the days following a series of particularly brutal finals. All of the Clydesdale's end of course grades were coming back more or less how he had expected them to go, which is to say in the top five percent of his class. As a university undergraduate heading into his third year, Jake's engineering degree was right on track. Math just came easy to the brawny horse, and thinking spatially in three dimensions was never something he had to struggle with. Unlike many of his peers.

As so, he felt like he was on course for the next few years to be fairly predictable and pleasant. He'd finish college, get his degree, take an entry level job in an in-demand industry, and start on paying off his student debt. And that's probably exactly how things would have worked out for Jake, had it not been for a series of actions that were unfolding in a state many miles away -- like silent dominos falling into one another, culminating in the horse's phone ringing at 10:30 PM at night in his tiny one-bedroom apartment.

"Really? Who calls at 10:30 at night? Probably some asshole. Or someone letting me know there's a post-finals party going on. At which point -- well, they're probably still an asshole. But I'll drink their beer. Hah."

Answering the phone, the horse said "Hello? This is Jake Parker speaking. Can I help you?"

There was the briefest of pauses before the woman on the other end of the line replied back. "Yes. Hello Jake. This is Arch-Grant Staffing Agency, calling you on behalf of one Michael Conner. Are you familiar with the name?"

Of course Jake knew the name. Michael had been his best friend since elementary school up until high school. And even though they fell out of touch after graduating, the Clydesdale would be hard-pressed to come up with anyone that he would consider a closer friend than the Doberman, despite them having not spoken much in the last two years. "Yes, I know Mike. What's this about? Is everything okay?"

"I'm afraid I really can't say, Mr. Parker. What I can tell you is that Michael had you listed as his emergency contact, which is why you are receiving this call. Unfortunately, due to the sensitive and legal nature of the issue, I cannot provide you with specifics over the phone. However, I am authorized to offer you complementary airfare if you'd be willing to discuss the matter in person at our headquarters. Michael had written down your email as hothooves_gfur.com. Is that correct? If so, with your permission I'll make a booking on the next available flight out of town, on your behalf."

"Whoa! This sounds really serious. Are you sure you can't give me any details? Have his parents been contacted?"

"I regret to say that I'm unable to provide you with any additional information over the phone, Mr. Parker. In regards to contacting his parents, you are the only person listed as an emergency contact for Mr. Conner. That being the case, I recommend against contacting his parents until you've had a chance to speak with us. We are contractually precluded from divulging information to any third party but you. Should his parents become concerned and attempt to contact us, our inability to discuss the matter would inevitably lead to undue frustration, and possibly even panic, on their part. At this point in time, I recommend allowing us to make travel arrangements on your behalf, so that you and a representative of Arch-Grant Staffing Agency can go over the matter face-to-face. May I book you for a midnight flight? That would allow us to pick you up at the airport and show you to the guestroom we'll have made ready for you. You'll also be able to shower and rest there for a few more hours before we'll pick you up for an early morning meeting."

"Uhh, I guess. And yea, hothooves_gfur.com is correct. I suppose I'll pack. I have to say, though, that I'm not too happy at being flown across the country without being given a good reason. You're lucky I'm not the panicky sort, or I'd be screaming your ear off."

"I understand, sir, and I do apologize. We hope to be able to answer all of your questions in just a few hours."

"Yea, okay."

"Can I make a note here that you'll be coming, then?"

"Feels like I don't have much of a choice if I want to find out what the hell is going on with Mike. Yea, I'll be there."

"That's fantastic to hear, Mr. Parker. We at Arch-Grant Staffing Agency appreciate your understanding and cooperation in this matter. Until tomorrow, sir."

"Sure. Bye."

Hanging up the phone, Jake was more bewildered than pissed. 'That had to have been one of the strangest phone calls in my entire life.' the six foot seven inches tall horse thought to himself.

The next few hours proved to be predictably aggravating for the twenty-one year old college student. But eventually, after a flight that afforded him all too-little sleep, the undergraduate found himself picked up in front of the airport by a limo driver holding a sign with his name on it.

Jake wasn't sure what the all-star treatment was about, but the fancy car ride did serve to improve his sour mood a bit as he was driven through the new city. Nearly falling asleep in his seat, the next hour blurred together for the Clydesdale as he was guided to a pre-furnished luxury apartment where he immediately fell asleep on the king sized bed, exhausted by the long day and lack of sleep.

---

Jake awoke the following morning to the sound of his phone ringing. Groggy and laying almost fully-clothed in the bed, he picked up the annoying ringing device. "Hello?"

"Hello again, Mr. Parker. This is courtesy call to let you know that someone will be coming by to pick you up in thirty minutes. If you haven't already, please feel free to make use of the shower. In the bathroom, you'll also find that we've provided you with a toothbrush and deodorant, on the off chance you were too rushed to bring your own. Again, we apologize for the hurry and for the secrecy. Thank you, and we look forward to speaking with you soon."

Before Jake could respond, the line went dead. 'I guess I did forget to bring my toothbrush. And deodorant too, for that matter. Glad I don't have to speak to these people smelling funky. My guess is that they wouldn't appreciate it, after sending a limo out for me and putting me up in this place. I didn't get a chance to take a look last night, but damn, this place is pretty classy.'

Thirty minutes and a few grooming routines later, Jake heard a knock on the door. Opening it, the horse found himself face to face with a smiling cheetah who was already extending his hand. "Hello! You must be Jake. It's good to meet you. My name is Miles Aric, but please, just call me Miles."

Briefly shaking the well-dressed cheetahs hand, Jake said "Hi there. I hate to sound rude, Miles, but when can we start talking about what this is about?"

"Right now, if you'll follow me. Sorry about all the spy and dagger nonsense. I'm not a huge fan of it myself, but my legal department yells at me each time I break one of their rules. You understand, I'm sure."

Following the friendly business man outside of the room and down the hall, the horse realized for the first time that they were not in a hotel. "Uhh, this might sound like an odd question, but where are we?"

"You're actually in the guest wing of Arch-Grant Staffing Agency. We do pretty well for ourselves, so we can afford to go the extra mile for important guests, such as yourself. I'm the Chief Operations Officer here, so if there's anything you need, just let me know."

"Again, and not to be rude, I just need answers. Is Mike around?"

Still walking down the hall towards an unknown destination, Miles responded "Your friend, Michael, has found himself in a bit of a thorny legal situation, I'm afraid. He's made a few serious mistakes, which are coming home to roost, as it were."

"Okay. So what does that have to do with me?"

"Well, Michael is in a situation where he no longer has the legal capacity to make decisions for himself. But at the same time, he's at a critical point in his life where many key choices are needing to be made. When he signed on with our agency, he was permitted to provide the name and contact information of a trusted individual who would play a principal role in making these decisions on his behalf, and in his best interest. He wrote down your name, and so, here you are!"

"That makes no sense. Why did he give you my name?"

"I'm sure I have no idea, Mr. Parker. He must hold you in very high-esteem."

"What kind of choices do you need me to make? I'm not sure I'm comfortable taking on any responsibility without knowing exactly what is going on here."

Stopping, Miles opened a door for the youth, gesturing inside. "Perfectly understandable, Jake. Here, we arrived at a small meeting room I had booked for us. Step inside and I'll be able to answer all your questions."

The horse wasn't sure he agreed with the cheetah's definition of 'small'. The spacious meeting area was dominated by a glossy wooden table in the center of the room that could have easily seated over thirty people. Jake watched Mr. Aric take a seat, as the middle-aged cheetah simultaneously motioned for him to take the adjacent chair.

"We'll be able to provide you with a file on the full details, Mr. Parker, but long story short, your friend got in over his head financially and asked us to bail him out. That's one of the services we provide you see. We give youths a second chance without them having to go through the murky and uncertain waters of bankruptcy, by taking on that debt ourselves. In return, these young boys and girls sign a binding contract that requires them to work diligently for us until such time as their debt is paid off. Almost everyone sails through our program with little to no problem. Michael, unfortunately, has fallen into the tiny percentage of kids who did not succesfully complete the program."

"Okay, so he owes a fine or something? Or what are you saying -- parole or jail time? A mark on his permanent record?"

"Actually, you could consider his legal status to have changed to that of a perolee the moment he signed the contract. But recently he committed a flagrant breach of the terms he agreed to, which automatically triggered the compensation clause of the legal document. Specifically, permanent contractual servitude."

"I'm sorry, I'm not very up to speed on my legal terms. Could you put that in layman for me?"

"Certainly, Jake. Plainly speaking, your friend said that he'd work for us until such time that he worked off his debt. He reneged on his word and tried to skip town on us. We found him, brought him back, and now he's forfeited his freedom, per the agreement he made with us."

"For how long?"

"For life, Mr. Parker."

Jake was stunned, and found it difficult to believe what he just heard."Holy shit... you're telling me that Mike is going to be imprisoned for life!?"

"Not precisely, Jake. The contract gives us something akin to power of attorney over all matters regarding Michael's life. To recoup our losses, we'll be focusing on turning him into a successful investment. And since he has previously granted us the authority to make those decisions on his behalf, I'm confident that, all said and done, we'll have more than made our money back. However, we at Arch-Grant Staffing Agency are not heartless monsters. We realize how hard this transition will be for Michael, and wish to give him whatever support we can as he gets use to his new, more restrictive, lifestyle. Not only do I feel that your presence will have a calming effect on the kid, but since you're his friend you'll be well positioned to help make choices that are truly in his best interest."

For several long moments, Jake had no reply for the explanation that he was just offered. His mind wandered back to his school days with the dog, who always seemed to be getting into trouble. 'I can't believe this. Sure, Mike could be a bit of a hothead at times, but he'd never done anything THIS stupid before. Well... maybe that one time, with the train. And maybe that time when those guys asked him to drive that boat full of pot for them. Damnit, Mike. You idiot. How am I going to get you out of this one? And who the hell said you could put my name down as an emergency contact!'

"Can I... speak with Mike?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Parker. I'll see if he's well enough to have visitors today. He's still recovering from his surgery, after all."

"Surgery! How was he injured?"

"Don't worry -- he's perfectly healthy, Jake. We just performed a few procedures on his genitals to prepare him for his new line of work."

"His... his junk!? What the fuck, dude! What did you assholes do to my friend!?"

"Now, now, Mr. Parker. I appreciate your protectiveness and concern for your friend, but we did not create this situation. Michael did. Please do your best to remain calm. There's much more to discuss and I promise you we have no plans or desire to hurt the dog unduly."

"Sorry... it's just not something I was expecting to hear this morning."

"Quite alright, Jake. It's a perfectly understandable reaction, and it proves that Michael made a good choice by picking you as his Chief Overseer."

"His what? I thought I was his emergency contact?"

"That's the term we use externally, when communicating outside the company. Internally, it is referred to as Chief Overseer. Essentially, per our contract with Michael, he is allowed to nominate a single male individual, non-relative, to oversee his training and service. He chose you. You can, of course, opt out of the program, at which point we are free to assign our own overseer."

"I have no idea where to even begin with that. This is just so... insane." Parker rubbed his closed eyes for a second, before shaking his head in an attempt to focus. "Go back to what you said about the surgery. What exactly was done?"

"As you wish. The blood vessels at the base of Michael's penis were constricted such that he'll have a full or partial erection the majority the time, including a fully enlarged knot. However, we were careful to not restrict blood flow so much that it would potentially deprive his member of oxygen. We also attached a small, high-tech gating mechanism to each of his testicals, which allows us to control his orgasms. He can jerk as much as he likes with these in place, but won't be able to achieve climax unless permitted to by a remote control. In addition, we made the nerves responsible for transmitting sensations of pleasure around his cock, sheathe, and sack almost forty percent more sensitive. Finally, we encased both testicals with artificial semen producers. These artificial semen factories have their own connection to the seminal cords and can also be triggered with a remote control. What this allows us to do is trigger the appearance of a full and impressive looking discharge at will, without actually allowing him to achieve release. Plus, they make his balls far more impressive to look at -- almost doubling their size. Truth be told, these alterations are all intended to help Michael, by making him a superb porn star actor. Don't take my word for it -- here, check out these photos of him resting a few days post surgery." Reaching into a drawer partially hidden under the desk, the cheetah handed Parker a stack of 8" by 11" high-resolution photos.

The Clydesdale couldn't help but flip through them, one by one, in morbid fascination. Michael strapped naked to a hospital bed, bound by his hands and feets, full erection pointing straight into the air. Michael being jerked off by a lion dressed like a nurse, as he begged or shouted at the camera man. There were many more of these, apparently taken over the course of several minutes -- the Doberman becoming visibility more needy as the photos progressed. Next, they apparently unstrapped Michael's right arm, which he was now actively using to frantically jerk himself off, face scrunched up in concentration. It went on like this for several more pictures, until Parker noticed that the dog had again started talking to the camera man with an anxious look on his face. But this time, it looked more like pleading than shouting. The last few photos were of a massive cumshot -- still frames of an intense looking orgasm where the Doberman covered his own chest and face with many long strings of cum. Disturbingly, the cumshot only seemed to have made the Dobermon even more desperate, even though by all appearances it looked like had gotten off in a big way, as he continued jerking himself off at what appeared to be a frenzied pace. The very last photo was of the dog still wanking his painfully aroused shaft, as a rhino in a Doctor's coat stood behind the hospital bed -- the picture apparently having caught the pantless Doctor in the middle of pulling his underwear off. The rhino's large cock was clearly visible, already stiff and pointing towards the back of Michael's head, who seemed unaware of what lurked just outside of his range of vision.

Realizing that he must look like a pervert to the cheetah, Parker moved the photo set from his lap and set them on the table -- only realize that the pictures had been the only thing hiding his own horse-sized erection from Miles. Before he could say anything his defense, the Chief Operations Officer spoke up first. "Don't worry about it, Jake. It's a perfectly natural reaction. And actually, we're counting on just that sort of reaction to help us sell high-resolution videos and still-photos of Michael. We're already building a website, just for him. We haven't decided on his alias yet, though."

In shock, and not fully realizing what he was saying, the Clydesdale said "They called him Tiny in middle school... he was small for his age and the kids made fun of him for it."

"Tiny! I love it! His cock is actually on the small size, for a dog. Just under five inches, even with the knot. And when it's compared to his friend's horse cock, it'll seem even smaller."

Realizing what he just said, Parker said "No! You can't! It'll will mortify him! Being called Tiny set him off like nothing else. He really hated it. It was even reason he started exercising so much."

"Yes, our boy does have some very well defined muscles, doesn't he? I think those muscles just make the website's pitch that much more appealing: 'Tiny the enslaved muscle dog! This Doberman's miniscule cock got him in trouble with the law one too many times -- now watch him try to use his tiny lever to pump his way out of the mess he created! But poor hothead... he doesn't realize his junk is simply way too small to earn his freedom. But you can watch him try anyway, for just $29.95 a month! Website updated every week with new videos, photos, journal entries, and yes -- live cam with requests taken from the audience! Sign up today and see this dog try to hide his tiny bone!'"

The horse's mouth went dry at the thought, as he silently admitted that he would have bought a subscription to a website with a pitch like that in a heartbeat. Even at a ridiculous thirty dollar subscription fee.

"Yes, that's the way I think we'll go with Michael. Or rather, Tiny. He'll be paying us back, with interest, in no time. As for you, Mr. Parker... maybe I be honest with you?"

With uncertainty in his voice, the large Clydesdale replied "Uhhh, sure, Miles."

"I'd love to see you stay on as Tiny's Chief Overseer. In fact, I'd like to offer you a golden deal in regards to possibly making a fortune off of this website. You help make it a success, and I'd be willing to part with... 10 percent of the site's net profits."

"What would you want me to do? And no offense, Miles, but your deal didn't work out so great for Mike."

"Your contract would be entirely different from Tiny's, as you're in a very different situation. He came to us, needing our help. We're coming to you, wanting your help. See the distinction? That said, I can see why you might be concerned. I'd be happy to draft up a contract for you, and give you $2,000 in cash to speak to a lawyer or lawyers of your choice, so you can go over and understand the contact in its entirety. As a show of good faith."

"You still haven't told me what you'd want me to do."

"Trustfully? A bit of everything. Camera work, scenario brainstorming, and even writing Tiny's journal entries for him. We'd want them to come off as over-the-top tough guy bravado. Tiny thinking that he's god's gift to women. But every time he thinks he can fuck his way out of his contract, his pathetic dick just isn't up to the job. In the journal's entries, written by you but from 'his' perspective, he'll think he's found the perfect mark to con into fixing his tricky situation for him. You'll write about what a MILF she is, and how he just knows she'll be willing to do whatever he asks after she gets a taste of him. But that's when the journal would transition into the video stream -- the girl's husband comes in all of a sudden, and is pissed that his wife is sleeping around. That is, until he spots the size of Tiny's pitiable boy-penis. The Doberman gets enraged at the husband's taunts, and throws a punch, only to miss because he's so fuming that he isn't thinking clearly. The husband pins him down, and fucks him. Hard. Using the remote control, we trigger a phantom, but entirely realistic looking, hands-free orgasm right as the husband is climaxing. Maybe the girl is even slapping his cock a bit while he's getting drilled, telling him she can't believe he thought he was going to get into her panties with a pre-teen's dick. After the husband seeds Tiny's ass, he finally allows himself to get tossed off, and the dog storms off, muttering about 'faggots' and 'lesbians'. We wrap up with a good shot of the cum dripping out of his ass, and his cock is still full mast, having stayed hard throughout the entire rough fuck. And, next week, we do it all over again, but slightly different. Tiny, the muscle bound Doberman. Too horny and too dumb to stop from getting fucked each week. And too homophobic to admit that maybe the reason he keeps fucking things up is because he secretely wants to get plowed. We'll even have a video update where he makes a bet with a bull -- the one with the bigger dick gets a blowjob from the loser. In the journal entry, he'll try and convince himself that there's no way he'll lose. That's Tiny in a nutshell. The character is always sure he'll come out on top, but predictably keeps getting fucked in new and exciting ways, each week. So? What do you think?"

"I admit, the idea sounds hot... but I'm pretty sure Mike will hate it."

"Well, good news! He doesn't get a vote. He doesn't even get to choose when he shoots anymore, remember?"

"Yea, what's up with that? I mean, I can maybe see why you'd want a porn star who could shoot on command -- I'm sure that's been the dream of countless producers and directors in the business. But since you can have him shoot anytime you want anyway, why not let him cum when he needs to cum?"

"Let me ask you a question, Jake. You ever keep jerking off as hard as you can after you shoot?"

"Errr, not really."

"Of course not. A man's pecker is so sensitive after shooting that it would hurt to continue with that kind of jacking. Well, same thing with Tiny. If he got off mid-video shoot, he'd be suffering through the rest of the production. Remember, his cock getting to hide inside of his sheath is pretty much a thing of the past at this point. Even if we did let him cum, he'd still be hard. So really, we're doing him a kindness. Better he stay randy while he's getting plowed like a champ, rather than climax and be in misery."

"So when would he get to cum? For real, I mean. Not the fake stuff."

"Well, as his Chief Overseer, that'd be up to you now, wouldn't it? See, you'd really be doing him a favor, but signing on with us. As a true friend, I'm sure you wouldn't let him go too long without a good cum. And, as someone with a vested interest in the website, I'm also confident that you wouldn't let him cum too often, either."

"I'm not sure how you mean?"

"Oh, sure you do. You ever do something that in hindsight was really fucking stupid, just because you were horny? Well, again, same thing with Tiny. You keep him from jizzing for a week, and I bet he's putty in your hands, doing the most humiliating things you can think of in the hopes of getting some relief. And you're going to need every edge you can get, to make him act out the part of Tiny. Not many people would be willing to constantly make a complete fool of themselves so that thousands of anonymous strangers can jerk off to it."

"So you're saying, what, hold his climaxes ransom!?"

"See! I knew you were smart kid the moment I saw you. In a crude manner of saying, yes. You force that baby-cocked dog to roll over if he wants his nut. He doesn't want to play ball? Then his balls don't get to play. Make sense?"

"I... well... this is a lot to take in, Mr. Aric. Isn't there anyway we can just forget about all this? I'm sure Mike is real sorry for whatever he did."

"Afraid not! It's against the organization's policy to free a contracted servant. At least this way, you can make sure you're friend is getting treated as well as can be expected. Plus, if this is as successful as I think it's going to be, you might even walk away a rich man. I think that's a fair incentive to give it your all, don't you think?"

"... and all I would do is work on the website and do some camera work?"

"Well, that and help train Tiny, of course. Really, whatever duties crop up. This would be your show, my boy! Though we'll be giving you plenty of help. For example, we'll arrange new play dates for the dog with popular, fresh-faced porn stars. I really see this going places. The only thing that's missing is you. And your horse cock."

"Sir?"

"Well, I was thinking, we should have a section of the website dedicated to 'Behind the Scenes' footage. Tiny without the Tiny persona. Just Michael and his Chief Overseer -- you. Tiny will most likely never actually get to visit the webpage, so he'd never even need to know about that part of the site. We'll just install hidden high-def cameras in the training room that we won't tell him about, and grab some of the juicier bits during an editing pass. Tiny trying to fit as much of your cock into his slave mouth as he can. Tiny licking his own cum off the floor, when finally allowed release. After thanking you, of course. Tiny jerking off for two solid hours, nonstop with the camera not panning away even once. All the while begging you to be allowed to cum. You'll be sitting there reading a book or playing a phone game, bored and disinterested. Tiny taking a ball-paddling, for not acting like a big enough idiot muscle head during the last taping. Tiny measuring his cock, and forced to tell you its exact measurements. You'll say something like 'Are you sure it's really that small? I could have sworn it was bigger. Measure it again, for me.' Then getting him to admit on camera that it really is that small. Then you can make him compare his cock to your own -- him having to be as descriptive as possible. The ideas practically think themselves up. It'll be great! We might even be able to charge extra for access to that part of the website."

The cheetah's words made the horse felt like his enormous cock was about to burst through the fabric of his pants. "I'd be able to... use Mike?"

"As often as you like. Hell, make him drink down a daily glass of your cum as a pick-me-up smoothie for all I care. All I'm interested in is the quality of the material on the website. And, now that I think about it, Tiny should be here by now. I had forgotten that I asked that he be brought back in yesterday. We'll be doing most of his training on site, with the shoots happening off site as needed based on script. Of course, he'll need to be trained to be perfectly obedient first, before we trust him outside of the building. Think you're the man for the job?"

Scratching the back of his head shyly, Jake asked "When I talk to him... can he have a ring gag on? A large one."

The smiling cheetah leaned forward to shake Jake's hand, with an expression that said he was already counting the money he knew would be rolling in soon. "Oh yea. You're definitely the man for the job. Welcome aboard."