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The Other Side of the Fence, pt. 5

by, WolfHound Baxton

Silva stared into the glass of an empty beer bottle as he sat at the bar at the Leather Talon, an establishment catering to men of certain tastes in the city of Richfield. The white bear was dressed in his usual attire, a leather harness, codpiece, chaps and boots, and a patrol cap. He rubbed his forehead and sighed as the bartender came and took his bottle. The bear gulped once and then nodded lightly, after which the bartender brought him another one and opened it.

The surroundings provided a deep contrast to the bear's current state of mind. Around him were the sounds of music, people talking, people playing at the pool tables. Generally the sounds, smells, and sights of other leather men having a good time. The bear was dressed as a dominant, but felt anything but it. He had lost control of his life. Ever since his mate, Midas, had died, things had gone downhill for him. He had started drinking heavily, lost his job and several friends. His slave, Lucas, had run away as well. The bear just buried his pain under more beer.

Silva slumped forward a bit on his stool against the bar, feeling dizzy. He got that odd feeling as if someone was watching him and turned his head to the left. He saw Arcturus, his old "friend," the one-eyed white wolf-tiger hybrid.

Arcturus glanced over, his single eye meeting with Silva's and then he just made a barely disguised sneer and looked back up at the TV he had been watching. Aside from his missing eye, the hybrid seemed to be doing rather well. He had one boy on each side of his stool kneeling, his boots rested on their shoulders.

Silva sighed deeply and turned back to his beer, chugging it again.

The bear closed his eyes for a moment. He could see the source of his grief in his mind's eye, the loss of his beloved mate.

Silva stared blankly into the distance as the breeze blew through the fur on his head. The priest had finished his speech and the honor guard fired their salute. He refocused his gaze onto the flag-draped coffin of his mate -- the person who had for so long provided him the needed strength in his life. The white bear looked strong and somber in his suit and tie. He was a strong bear, but a great deal of his strength came from relying on his mate, Midas Whitehorn, the rhinoceros. And now the center of his world was gone forever. He was not totally without strength though. He had just enough strength left to prevent himself from collapsing in grief as the honor guard handed him the flag.

Midas was always the more powerful of the pair. He had been Silva's shoulder to lean on when things got rough. He was always there to comfort him. He was also always there to take charge when Silva felt he needed a male more alpha than himself around. Now when he faced a tough situation, his first instinct had always been to turn to his mate, but now his mate was not there, intensifying his grief.

Silva remembered the day he had lost his mate all too vividly. They had just had a bitter argument over Silva's job and how it took him away from the family and Midas got in the car and went out to run some errands, and clear his head. He never came back, and later that night Silva got the call about the fatal accident. The grief of his loss had put him in a wretched state of mind and he was screwing up bad at work, and so he was fired. Now, with no job, Silva was in danger of losing his house.

Silva stood up to make his way to the door, but stumbled, having had a bit too much.

Arcturus, noticing this, grinned wickedly as he stood up and swaggered over towards the doorway. He had detested the bear for a long time and his sick mind felt this was a good time to get a subtle gloat or two in. After all, the bear was only getting what was coming to him. Silva hadn't always been a Master and at one time had belonged to Arcturus before running out himself and then getting him banned from his favorite club on the basis of an offhand remark.

"Hey there old buddy!," said the hybrid as he clapped his paw down onto the bear's shoulder.

"You remember me, don't you?"

"Yeah, I remember you," said the bear blankly and in somewhat of a daze.

"You seem down," said the hybrid with a thinly veiled sneer. "How's the family doing?"

Arcturus knew Silva's situation very well and that it was probably the reason for the bear's very low mood.

"I ... I've lost everything!," said the bear. "My mate is dead, two of my slaves ran away from me, and now I'm about to lose my house. What am I supposed to do!?"

"Well," said Arcturus with a level of fake concern. "I could take you on again. You know, just like the old days. I'm sure you remember that."

"Yeah...," said Silva suspiciously, feeling somewhat slapped by the suggestion.

"Though I know someone else who will take you in if you need it. He's a very strict but very good Master. A wealthy dragon. You'd never have to worry about anything again and just forget it all. We know you'd like that don't we?," said the hybrid trying to hide the evil smirk that was struggling to break out of the edges of his lips.

Arcturus thought for a moment how he had referred Sigmund, one of Silva's runaways, to Xarius Augustine, a very wealthy and influential dragon who used the unique laws of his island kingdom to permanently enslave those he got hold of. It was deliciously ironic, Arcturus thought, that Sigmund might be joined by Silva in service to the self-proclaimed God of Dragons

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Silva before stumbling to the door where his ride was ready to pick him up.

---

Silva's home was dark and dreary, seeming almost uninhabited. It was less tidy than it used to be. After all, only Argyle, the alpha slave, was left to keep it up with all others gone and Silva was in no state to do much of anything.

A knock came to the door and Argyle, a brown otter with green markings, rushed quickly to answer it. When Argyle opened the door he jumped back a bit. His Master, leaning on the door, collapsed drunkenly on the floor as it was opened.

Argyle sighed and lowered his head in resignation to see his Master come home in such a state again. It was the third time this week. The otter still wore his collar, but wore a pair of shorts now also. Things had gotten a bit lax, perhaps too lax. It wasn't all that long ago when the arrival of Master Silva at his home was a glorious occasion where the otter slave would bow and scrape and lick the boots of his proud, dominant and confident bear Master.

"Welcome home, Sir," said the otter in a lowered voice as Silva struggled up to one knee and then pressed himself up. He groaned as he held onto his belly and closed his eyes.

"Oooh, I think I'm going to be sick...," said the bear.

"You had too much again, respectfully Sir," said the otter with concern.

"Ugh, maybe," returned the bear weakly.

"Shall I help you to bed, Sir?," asked the otter with concern.

"I'd like that," returned Silva.

The bear groaned as the otter laid him down in his bed. He looked at the picture on his nightstand with a sniffle. It was a picture of himself and his mate, Midas the Rhino, on vacation to the beach. Knelt in between them was Sigmund, the black wolf who had run away from them a year ago. The sight was enough to fill Silva with immense pain. He grabbed the picture and turned it down on the nightstand before passing out from his drunkenness.

---

Marius rubbed his head and blinked his eyes, groaning as his consciousness returned to the heat of the midday sun beating down on him. The doberman had taken a nasty knock the night before during the storm that had put him out. Marius was a hired thug for Xarius Augustine, the unofficial dictator of the island nation of Bastana. It was Marius' job to guard Xarius' slaves and make sure they didn't escape. It was a task at which he had failed, and now he was paying the price. Now he was stuck in a small boat in the middle of the great and vast ocean, blown there by a violent storm. The only living beings in his world now were himself and Sigmund, the escaped slave.

Marius tried to sit up in the boat, but noticed he had been stripped of his gear and clothes. He also tried to move about but found himself restrained. On his wrists and ankles he wore metal cuffs, chains linking them together to a ring in front of him.

"What the fuck?," said Marius, a bit confused by the surreality of the situation.

Sigmund watched with amusement from his seat near the stern of the boat. The black wolf also wore nothing except a bit of loincloth he had made from ripped portions of Marius' clothes. He was also still bound in his slave collar, which could not be so easily removed. The black wolf's body looked glorious, decorated as it was with the runes on his shoulders as well as the tattoos that had been applied to him for identification during the Bloodgames, Bastana's deadly gladiatorial competition.

The mercenary pulled himself up to the passenger side seat in the boat and growled to Sigmund as he pulled on his chains, trying to get out of them. Sigmund had used Marius' keys in order to remove the cuffs from himself and attach them to the unlucky doberman.

Marius had been called up to pursue Sigmund when the wolf's collar alarm went off, alerting the authorities on Bastana to an escaping slave. The rest of the search party had to abort when a massive storm came up, but Marius pressed on. He was full of pride and wasn't about to lose Xarius' prize slave that had been placed under his guard. He had caught up with Sigmund's boat but was knocked out when a heavy wave knocked his head against the front of the boat. Now their situations were reversed.

"Feeling comfy?," asked Sigmund, a hint of triumphal sarcasm in his voice.

"You filthy slave mutt! Unchain me at once!," shouted the doberman righteously as he struggled against the chains on his wrists and ankles.

Sigmund stood up in the boat, balancing himself as the waves gently rocked the small craft. "What's the matter?," asked the wolf. "You don't like them? They're very nice chains. You folks were so kind to give them to me that, well, I just figured I'd return the favor when I could. That's why I used your keys to take off my shackles and put them on you! How about that for generosity?"

"Is this some kind of joke!?" protested the doberman. "When Xarius gets word of this rebellion, he'll have your balls on a plate! I don't care how much the old dragon loves you."

"Oh? I'm afraid that Xarius will be unable to come to our little party, unfortunately. You see, we're very far out at sea. Lost most likely. I doubt he or anyone else knows where to find us. We'll probably die of hunger or thirst. That's sad really. It would be so anticlimactic."

"Don't get so cocky, pup!," yelled Marius. "That collar has a GPS tracking device in it. It's only a matter of time before one of Xarius' boats come for us."

"I really doubt that," said the wolf. "If they haven't got here by now they aren't coming. I really doubt that the collar is working like it's supposed to, see. If it were I don't think it would be too hard to track us down."

Indeed, a red indicator light on the side of Sigmund's slave collar was flashing, showing an error state of some kind.

The doberman growled and lifted his lips, baring his teeth as he flew into a rage. He tried to jump at Sigmund with his claws, chained as he was, but was stopped as soon as the barrel of his own submachine gun met with his face.

"Don't even think about it, bitch!," said Sigmund, standing up in the boat as he held the mercenary's gun only inches from the doberman's nose.

The doberman took a deep breath and collected himself, shrinking slowly back to the bow of the boat he had come from, careful to make no sudden moves.

"You have taunted, harassed, and used me for all these months," said Sigmund as he held up the former guard. "You even aided in the mutilation of my mate and took some rather sick pleasure in it. Well now its your turn."

"You can't do this!," said the doberman.

The sharks are hungry today, maggot." said Sigmund with an evil snarl. "You have twenty seconds to give me a damn good reason why I shouldn't feed them."

The doberman gasped, confused. This was check and mate for him. He really had nothing now. What possible reason could he give the wolf to keep him alive? He saw in the wolf's eyes that the only lust he had was for his quick death. The blinking light on the wolf's collar caught his attention. He gasped, his ears flicking as his brain had a flash, and not a moment too soon as Sigmund's finger had made its way to the trigger.

"Wait!," said the doberman. "If you kill me, you'll never get that collar off your neck. Even if we survive, you'll need me to get you out of it. I have the codes for it memorized."

The doberman was taking an awful risk. In truth, he had nothing. He had just made up a desperate lie in an attempt to save himself. He was nervous as hell, true. But he was on death ground now and had to do whatever it took to stay alive. If he didn't resist or try to fake his way out of this, he knew he would die.

"Right, well then get to it, mutt!," said Sigmund, waving the gun at Marius.

"Oh, I don't think so," countered the doberman. "You see, like I said if you shoot me, you'll never get that collar off."

"Well then, I guess we'll just have to squeeze it out of you in other ways."

"Huh, Squeeze it out of me?"

"Oh yes," said Sigmund. "I'll be getting it out of you in one way or another. And in the meantime. Just you realize who's in charge on this boat. Make no mistake. You'll get only just enough of the food and water to keep you alive. You're not worth much else to me except as a key."

Marius nodded, understanding. He knew that too. He'd have to keep his charade of knowing how to get the collar off as long as possible if he planned on staying alive

---

ilva groaned as he woke up to something he hadn't in a long time. He smiled and reached down, rubbing over the head of the otter who had busied himself at the bear's crotch.

Argyle smiled up to Silva as he fondled his balls and ran his tongue lengthways over his Master's morning wood from the base to the tip. "Good morning, Master."

Argyle was a bit more "dressed" for the occasion. He was collared as he always was, but also wore a set of iron shackles on his wrists and ankles. The shackles had chains running down from them, but were not locked or attached yet.

"Morning pup," said the bear with a sigh and a smile as he stroked the otter's head, then groaned feeling sick from his escapade the night before.

Are you doing alright Sir?," asked the otter as he gave the tip of the bear's member a kiss.

The bear groaned and sat up in bed, sighing deeply as his erection began to shrink in spite of the otter's work.

"No...," said the bear, sitting on the side of his bed now and then burying his head in his paws. "I'm sick, and afraid. I don't know what will become of me or my life. Only that I lost everything I held dear. My mate, my slaves, and even my friends want nothing to do with me. Sure they act all nice to me to my face, but I know what they're saying behind my back."

"Sir," said the otter, placing a paw on the top of one of Silva's legs as he sat down beside the bear. "You still have me."

"I know," said Silva, "but I just have totally lost confidence in myself. Maybe they're right about me and I really have screwed up everything."

The otter hung his head and sniffed a bit. His Master wasn't behaving very Masterly right now. Others would flee him, run away, and reject him for his loss of confidence, but Argyle wasn't about to. He was a loyal slave. It was his duty to put his Master above himself and think of his good no matter how uninspiring his Master was acting. When the Master was sick, no matter the sickness, it was the duty of a slave to see to his well-being.

"Sir," the otter said standing up. "Respectfully, I believe that you have a serious problem that we need to deal with."

"What?," asked the bear, looking up at his slave, somewhat surprised by the confidence shown by the otter. He hadn't seen the otter speak this firmly to anyone ever since there were other slaves in the house to boss around.

"Sir, you are having a serious problem with your self-confidence. Yes, you've suffered a lot of blows, but if you lose your self-confidence and self-worth, things will only get worse."

The otter stood like a soldier before the bear. He spoke to him, addressing him as Sir and Master, even as he tried to explain to him what the problem was and that he needed to fix it.

"Master, I have always been here for you since the beginning. I will be here with you until the end. Your collar is on my neck and I live to serve you. I will never flee you. I will never hurt you. My only concern in life is your well-being, far above my own. I am a slave -- an object in your service. And it is my function to see you well."

Silva cracked a smile as he looked at his slave. He puffed up a bit. He remembered training this one years ago and teaching him what it meant to be a slave. He heard it repeated back to him so well now and saw it acted out before his eyes. The submissive or so-called "slave" might well abandon his Master when it was convenient or when that Master was no longer interesting or inspiring. The true slave would stay at his Master's feet and suffer whatever came until the end, and do anything in his power to heal his Master's wounds, be they physical or mental.

"I'm glad to hear it, boy," said the bear.

"Master, you're never going to make things better just by moping around and drinking yourself to death every night. You need to be strong like you used to be. Let me help you Sir."

The bear stood up from the bed and smiled as he put his paws on his hips and grinned at the otter. "You know, you're right boy," said Silva. "So go and fetch my boots, slave!"

"Yes, Master," said the otter as he began to leave the room, but didn't make it before a claw came clapping down onto his shoulder.

"Not so fast, slave," said the bear, charged with a new vital energy he had not had the night before. "I think we've been forgetting some things."

"Sir?," asked the otter confused.

"Should a slave stand in the presence of his Master, boy?"

"N... no Sir," said the otter with a nervous gulp.

Master Silva had gone lax for some time. This was shown in that he let his otter wear shorts often, much too often. He had also, over time, forgotten or failed to apply the rule that had slaves on all fours in the presence of their Masters.

Argyle gasped as the powerful paw pressed him to his knees, then once more as the bear's footpaw lifted to his shoulder and shoved him forward, his webbed paws hitting the floor as the bear held him there with his heavy foot.

"Oh, Master!," said the otter. He hadn't been treated this way in quite some time.

"Slave wanted to help me get my confidence back. Well slave can do so. This is the best way."

"Y... yes Sir," said the otter as the bear gave the back of his neck a particularly hard shove before stepping off of him.

"Now go get those boots, boy!," said the bear, crossing his fuzzy arms over his chest.

Argyle crawled from the bear's bedroom and soon returned with a pair of his Master's favorite boots. Silva, in the meantime, had been getting himself ready too. The bear now wore his usual patrol cap, harness, chaps, and codpiece.

"You look magnificent, Master," said the otter as he crawled towards Silva with the boots.

"Thank you, boy," said the bear as he sat on the bed and then held out his footpaws for his slave to put on his boots.

The otter twitched his whiskers as he laced up his Master's boots, then leaned in to give the toe of each boot a kiss as he finished. "There you are Sir," said the otter, putting his webbed paws up and looking his Master in the eye with a smile.

Master Silva grinned and pulled one of his boots back and then shoved the sole of it into the otter's face.

"Lick, slave!," said the bear. "And lick it good."

"Y.. yes Master," said the otter, surprised as his Master boldly showed him who ruled him once more. He stretched out his tongue and began to drag it over the sole of his Master's boot as Silva rubbed it over the boy's face.

"I'm glad you haven't forgotten your duties, slave," said Silva as he reached for the drawer on the nightstand beside his bed. "You will be asked to do more this morning," he said. His codpiece showed a noticeable bulge. The smiling bear had obviously regained something he'd lost earlier.

"Yes Master," said the otter as he kissed the bottom of the boot a few times, then lapped his tongue carefully between the treads on the bottom of his Master's boot.

Silva smiled as he glanced at the contents of the drawer, ones that had not been disturbed in some time. In there was a bottle of lube and a basketful of tiny padlocks, each with their matching keys carefully placed inside them.

Silva pressed the tip of his boot against the otter's muzzle and glared down at him with a grin as he pulled four locks from his basket and set them on the bed next to him. "Suck it, boy!," he commanded.

The otter looked up to him and nodded, opening his muzzle and sucking on the tip of his boot as the bear excitedly pawed at the bulge on his codpiece.

"Well done, slave!," said the bear, grabbing hold of one of his locks. "Now kneel and put your paws up!"

"Yes Master," said the otter, doing as he was commanded and putting his paws up like a puppy.

The Master reached down and took hold of the chains running from the otter's cuffs and pulled them together, chaining his paws together in front of them. He then took two of the padlocks and locked the otter's wristcuffs on.

"Been a while since you've been locked, huh boy?" asked the bear.

"Yes Sir," confirmed the otter. His little slave cock swelled with excitement at the bondage. He hadn't been treated like this in quite some time. He was happy to be placed in bondage by his Master, but so much happier t hat he had helped his Master regain his confidence.

"Turn around now, slave!," ordered the bear firlmy.

"Yes Sir," said the otter, turning about and looking back. His rudder-tail wagged across the floor a bit, showing how happy he was that his Master had regained his manly and commanding ways.

Silva smiled and reached down, locking the boy's ankles together in the same way he had his wrists, and securing the cuffs with the padlocks. He then gave the otter a firm smack on the ass, bringing a jump and a yelp of surprise from the slave.

"I believe you had a job you were doing earlier, slave," said the bear. "One that I think you should finish."

"Yes Sir, said the otter, squirming back around, his chains and shackles clinking as he did and forced himself up to his knees, nuzzling and kissing the bulge in his Master's codpiece.

The Master pulled at it and slid it down, causing his hard cock to flop against the slave's face as it was released from its leather prison.

The otter yelped in surprise and nearly fainted. The musky scent of the bear's crotch overpowered him as the bear's tool slapped against his sensitive muzzle and whiskers. He didn't let this stop him though. He immediately set about doing his duty, nuzzling at the base of the bear's cock and then running his tongue from the base up to the tip. He looked up at his Master and saw the gaze of a true alpha male staring back at him.

The otter smiled as he opened his muzzle and took the tip of the bear inside it. He had revived his Master's spirits and was happy.

Soon a powerful, clawed paw gripped the otter's headfur and twisted it lightly before shoving the otter down on the thick and engorged shaft of bear-meat.

The otter gulped and gagged a bit as his throat was suddenly filled with the tip of the bear's shaft. Mercifully, the bear let him up a bit after a few seconds to breathe, but kept that paw held tight on the boy's headfur.

"I've missed this, slave," said the bear, smiling as he enjoyed the pleasure of a devoted cocksucker.

The otter nodded a bit and muffled something through his mouthful of meat. It sounded like an agreement to the bear.

"More tongue, slave!" shouted the bear as he thrust his cock in and out of the otter's muzzle, pulling his head back and forth at the same time by his grip on the boy's headfur.

The slave made some muffled mumbles again as he was used, but quickly got about his orders once more, lavishing the bear's cock with the attentions of his eager and practiced tongue.

"That's what your muzzle was made for, boy! Sucking cocks...," said the bear.

The only response the otter could give was a nod, looking up at his Master with a mouth stuffed full of bear-meat, perhaps proving Silva's point well enough for him.

"And I think its the only use your muzzle should have for quite some time," said Silva with a wicked grin.

The otter tilted his head in confusion before the bear pulled his meat from the slave's muzzle and then gave him a hard slap over the face with it.

"Eep! Yes Sir!," said the otter as he received his cockslap, opening and stretching his muzzle after it had been stuffed more than it had for quite some time.

The bear smiled and opened another drawer, one that hadn't been opened even longer than the one with the locks and the lube. Soon, Silva pulled out a heavy steel muzzle that was fitted custom for the otter's face and had a series of chains running around it.

"The Silencer, Sir? But... I've been good haven't I?," said the otter with a confused expression.

"You have, boy," said the bear. "But it will please me to see you heavily bound and to use and exploit you that way. It will be good for my mental state. And that's what you care about isn't it, slave. Helping your Master rebuild his confidence?"

"Yes Sir," said the otter, his head lowered. He didn't want to go in the Silencer. He had always hated the thing and it had usually been reserved for punishment, but he knew what effect this was having on his Master. He saw the spark of a true Alpha returning to his Master, and he wasn't about to stop it. He was prepared to take whatever abuse and use was given out to him to restore his Master to his former glory. There was no price too high or service too hard, no humiliation or use too great that he could not bear it if it would bring his Master back from the brink of his depression.

The otter kept his head lowered and prepared as Master Silva slipped the unforgiving steel muzzle over his boy's face, then secured it with its chains tightly to his slave's head. A chain went above the head, between the slave's eyes and two more went around his cheeks and under his ears. All three of them met on a ring at the back where they were locked, securing the slave's muzzle in its prison.

Having secured his slave, Master Silva leashed him with a chain and then stood up, grabbing the bottle of lube in his other paw.

"Come, slave!," said Master Silva, giving him a yank of the chain and leading the otter down to the dungeon.

The dungeon was dark. It hadn't been used in some time. Random paddles, whips and other implements of bondage and discipline laid about as the wolf dragged the otter down the stairs by his chain before locking him in a set of stocks that secured his wrists, head, and legs, leaving his ass in the air and exposed to whatever use the bear might have for it.

The otter squirmed as his head and arms were locked in the wooden stocks. He tried to say something but couldn't. The Silencer around his muzzle kept him silent and made sure that all he could get out were a couple cute little murmurs and whimpers.

"We've been too lax too long, slave," said the bear as he retrieved a bag from the corner of the dungeon containing some gear. "That's why you're going to get it hard and heavy now to make sure we're all back in our proper sphere.

The bear took what looked like an iron ball from the bag. It was made of metal, hollow, and open on one end with some straps to secure it on. He went around to the front of the pillory and fitted it over the slave's webbed paw. It was an iron mitt.

"You're going to be wearing these now boy, my helpless dog."

Silva went back to the bag once more and got out another one of the iron mittens, placing it on the other paw. Now, when the boy got out of the stocks he would be unable to do much with his forepaws. The otter nodded a bit as he was locked in. He figured he would be kept as a dog for a while. How long, he was unsure.

The boy yelped a bit. He felt the bear's warm paw rubbing at his balls and sheath.

"We have to do something about this too, slave," said the bear. "We have to remind puppy that his place in the world is to serve his Master's pleasures, and not worry about his own.

The otter nodded in his stocks, yipping muffled through his "Silencer" as the bear gave him another squeeze and then went back to the bag to pull out a steel chastity cage.

The bear gave the otter's restrained head a little pet before attaching the cage to the boy's cock and then locking it.

"Slave needs to remember," said the bear. "That its his duty to get off his Master, but that getting off himself is a reward."

The boy nodded and then lowered his muzzled head to look at the floor. He gasped suddenly. The bear had grabbed hold of that thick rudder tail of his and lifted it up. Now the bear's raging hardon could be plainly felt under the otter's tail.

"I'm going to take you boy. I'm going to take that tail of yours and you're going to be stuck in that cage."

The otter squirmed in his stocks and restraints. He tried to mumble "Thank you Master," through his muzzle but, of course, nothing much came out but a few unintelligible sounds.

Soon the otter gasped at the feel of his Master's massive cock shoved under his tail. He closed his eyes and groaned quietly inside his muzzle as he was taken, his mitted paws squirming uselessly in their restraints.

The bear moaned softly in pleasure as he began to slowly thrust his pulsing meat into the boy's eager hole, rubbing the lube on his cock as he pressed it in.

"Boy's gotten too tight," said the bear. "Been way too long since he's been used.

The otter nodded a little bit in the stocks before the bear gave him a hearty slap on the ass cheeks.

"I don't mind though pup. Tight is nice for me, and that's what matters isn't it?"

The otter nodded again as the bear pressed his thick shaft all the way in, moaning lightly as the warm and tight hole of the otter squeezed around him, bringing him waves of immense pleasure.

"That's good boy," whispered the bear. "You're a tight hole for your Master to take aren't you, yes."

The otter sniffled and nodded in agreement.

The bear began to pant as he picked up his energy, lust overtaking his body as he continued to pound into his boy beneath him, pre jetting from the tip of his cock and into the otter's hole as he thrust.

"Rrrf!," said the bear as he delivered a slap to the otter's firm ass. "I know you've missed this as much as I have, slave."

The otter mumbled again, then shuddered as he felt the heat of his Master's breath wash across his ears.

Silva fucked the boy harder as he leaned down on his body, gripping his fuzzy sides in his bear paws now as he breathed over the boy's ears and then nibbled on them. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled into the back of the otter's neck and nibbled lightly there.

"Getting close, boy," said the bear, closing his eyes and grunting hard as he took the back of his slave's neck into a bite.

The boy nodded and panted through his nose as he was taken, his cock straining at his little cage for a release it would never have, a release that came soon enough for the bear.

Silva released the otter's neck and then turned his head up to the ceiling of the dungeon, letting out a loud and triumphant roar as he gave one final and massive thrust into the otter's rear before filling him up with his hot and creamy white load.

---

Marius squirmed in his restraints in vain as he stared up into the sky, trying to avert his eyes from the blazing sun. He was restrained, on his back, by the shackles and chains he was locked in and laid tied down to the floor by a few ropes and the boat's tie-ons. The doberman had grown weak from ill-treatment. He had been very poorly fed over the course of the past two weeks. In some ways this was fortunate too because what food he had been given he was often unable to keep down, due to the rough seas they had passed through. For all his toughness the mercenary guard had a particular weakness for seasickness that was not serving him well now. The doberman's face was covered with bruises and scars from beatings taken from his captor.

Sigmund made some adjustments to the boat's makeshift sail and kept the boat steered towards the west before coming back to the doberman and crouching down beside him.

"You know I'm going to ask this one more time. And if you don't answer me this time, that's gonna be it," said Sigmund.

"I'll never talk!," said the doberman. "I'll never give it to you in a million years even if you beat my face into a bloody mash!"

"Well we've tried that, but its not working out too well," said Sigmund.

Indeed, the doberman had been beaten and whipped to his point of tolerance and the marks on his naked body showed it. The doberman knew it was hopeless. He was racing against time, trying to survive as long as he could in the hopes that someone found them. He knew that the moment Sigmund found out he was lying about the collar codes that he would be shark food, and so he put up with the tortures and the beatings, pretending to be holding out information that could help his lupine captor.

"You've given up then?," asked the doberman nervously.

"Not quite...," said Sigmund as he took a makeshift gag made from a piece of cloth and held it over the doberman's face. "Open your mouth!"

The doberman opened up willingly. He'd figured out earlier than resisting one of these orders just resulted in a heavy beating until he gave in anyway.

Sigmund gagged Marius and then took another piece of cloth, amazingly white and free from dirt after the violence of the storm and their hazardous voyage. He wrapped the cloth around the doberman's neck and then tied it in the back, showing Marius a sadistic grin and giving him a little pat on the cheek before getting up and taking an empty water jug from the boat, dipping it over the side and filling it with seawater. He brought it over towards Marius, then sat it down, crouching down next to him.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen now, bitch," said the wolf. "You can reach the floor with your hand. You're going to beat it hard, three times, when you're ready to use the codes you know to undo my collar."

The wolf then calmly raised the jug over the doberman's head and tilted it down, pouring a stream of seawater over his gagged face.

The doberman's eyes went wide as salt water soaked the cloth over his face and then streamed down his muzzle towards his forehead. He grunted and tried to turn his head, but Sigmund had none of it, reaching up and grabbing his muzzle, holding him still.

"Hold still, mutt! You're gonna take this.," shouted the wolf.

The doberman grabbed in vain for the floor of the boat. He wasn't able to move or resist because of his bondage, but he was in torment. The water flowing over his face, soaking the cloth, had dripped into his nose and gave him the sensation that he was drowning. He couldn't breathe! His lungs tensed up and he flailed and struggled as much as he could in his bondage. He felt his life about to end as he stared up into the smirking face of the wolf above him as the water continued to pour and spatter down onto his muzzle, soaking the cloth and seeping into his nose and mouth The doberman could take no more. After ten seconds of this torment he tapped the floor of the boat frantically.

As the soaked cloth was removed from his face, the mercenary doberman thought back, remembering some of his interrogation classes that mentioned this torture technique, called "waterboarding." He had always mocked it back then. "What's just a little water over the face!?" he said, joking with his friends after class. "They're a bunch of pussies. Even my grandmother could stand up to that so-called torture!"

Marius would never mock waterboarding again. It was said that the most well-trained and hardened soldiers couldn't last more then twenty seconds, so powerful was the sensation of drowning.

Marius breathed deeply as the cloth and gag were removed from his muzzle, looking up at the wolf with a mixture of both defiance and fear in his eyes.

"So, are you ready to help me out and get my collar off?," asked the wolf.

"Maybe," said the doberman. "But how do I know you're not going to just toss me over as soon as you don't need me anymore?"

"You don't," said Sigmund.

"Then I'll take your collar off for you, but only when we're rescued or reach shore." The doberman said firmly. It bought him some more time, though he had a feeling that more torture would be in the waiting for him.

Sigmund locked eyes with his former tormenter once more and growled fiercely.

---

Silva sighed happily, his stubby bear tail wiggling as he opened his fridge to be greeted by the welcoming yellow light. He pulled a couple of beers from the fridge and sat them down on the metal tray beside him, the closed the fridge and went to the counter next to him and picked up a bag of pretzels. "Mmm this is gonna be nice. I've been wanting to see this movie for a long time pup. Will be nice to just settle in with each other won't it pup?"

Argyle looked up to his Master and just nodded meekly. The boy was still locked in The Silencer and had been for some time. A tube had been inserted in his muzzle to allow him to be fed through.

The bear smiled and pawed at his bare balls for a moment before walking into the living room and then snapping his claws together. "Come pup!" he said.

The otter slave turned and began to move slowly and carefully towards the living room in his metal mitts which made a loud clopping sound as they moved over the kitchen floor. A tray had been strapped to the otter's back by a harness, the same tray the bear had put his beers and snacks on earlier.

The bear sat down on the couch and his otter-tray crawled up beside him, looking up at him as the bear reached down and took a beer and bottle opener from the tray on his slave's back, opening it and then flipping the top onto the tray, letting the beer fizzle a bit before taking a bit chug. He grabbed for his remote control and turned on the TV and set it up to watch the movie.

The movie itself was a futuristic sci-fi thriller, but often times the bear wasn't quite paying attention to the movie. He looked down to his pet and smiled, reaching down to rub at the boy's chained head for all the good work he did being a loyal servant and slave-object for his Master. Master Silva attached a funnel that was on the otter's tray to the tube in his muzzle and held the funnel in his lap while he watched. Every now and then he'd pour some beer through the funnel for his boy and reach down to paw at the otter's head and ears with his footpaw while the slave sipped. Things were fine and the Master took a deep sigh of contentment as plans for the future formed in his mind. He knew that no matter how bad things had been for him, he could get them straightened out. His loyal slave had restored his confidence for him.

---

Sigmund sneered at the doberman as he shoved the former mercenary over to the side of the boat, his arms shackled behind his back and his legs locked tightly together with a short chain.

"You know I've just figured out. We've been at sea for a long time," said Sigmund. "We're quickly running out of the food and water I stocked up before I made my escape. I wasn't planning on this being a voyage for two you know."

"So what are you planning to do, kill me? You'll never get it off then."

"I'll let you live, on a quarter rations," said Sigmund, "If you'll use the codes to take my collar off. This is your last chance. If you refuse, you're shark bait."

"Go to hell!," dared Marius. He didn't think Sigmund would actually do it and risk being shut in the collar or returned to Master Xarius.

Suddenly the doberman's head was plunged into the sea. Sigmund kept his hand on the doberman's headfur and kept a good grip on him. He held him down for a good twenty seconds before letting the canine back up.

Marius shuddered in his restraints as he blew seawater from his nostrils and snarled at his captor. "You'll never get it out of me. Not on a million years!"

The mercenary knew he was only setting himself up for more torture by continuing to hold out. For a moment he had considered confessing that he couldn't remove the collar and ending his ordeal. If he was going to die, better to get it over with now than continue this abuse. But no, he stubbornly and defiantly dared to face further torture for a chance at survival.

Sigmund plunged the ex-merc's head in again, leaving him down for an extended time, a sneer of anger coming across his face as he remembered all of the pain and hardship Marius had inflicted on him before. The taunts and jabs at his chastity when he was fighting in the arena, the rape, torture and humiliation he suffered at the hands of the doberman during his time with Master Henderson, and finally the mutilation of his mate Andrew. The mental montage was topped off by the image of Marius enjoying a cannibalistic "barbecue" sandwich with Master Henderson and his Mistress. It was all that was needed to make Sigmund see this doberman as nothing more than an insect. He was going to end it now. He was going to drown this wretch for good. In one critical moment he calmed himself, pulling the doberman up again after about a minute.

Marius gasped for air, surprised to be alive and see the sky again, blowing water from his nose. as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Are you ready to cooperate now?," asked Sigmund again.

"Yes," said the doberman. "I am ... ready ... to release your collar..."

Marius knew that Sigmund's patience was at an end. He had one final card he hoped he could play though.

Sigmund unlatched the doberman's arm restraints so that he could reach in front of him, but left his arms chained together by about a foot of chain in front of him. He then grabbed the guard's gun and turned his back to him. "Don't even think about doing anything funny," the wolf said.

Sigmund turned around and exposed the back of his neck where the collar had clasped so long ago. It was locked with what appeared to be some kind of magnetic device that was designed to seal permanently. There was a small control panel next to it, but as to whether or not this accepted codes to unlock the collar or not, Marius didn't know. It had, after all, been his job to keep slaves on the islands, not deal with their collaring or decollaring.

Marius toyed a bit with the small control panel, pretending to do something. "Just one more setting and, no that's not it..." he said.

"Problem?," asked the wolf.

"It seems," said Marius. "That the entire mechanism is broken. I don't think I'll be able to get it off of you."

"You're lying!," said Sigmund, turning around quickly and aiming his gun at Marius, finally sensing the rouse. "I don't know what it is exactly, but you're lying about something."

The doberman put his paws up and gasped. "Alright!" he finally admitted, the nerves and stress finally snapping inside him. "So I don't have any clue how to get your fucking collar off. You happy now boy!? That satisfy you!?," shouted the doberman angrily, finally becoming unhinged and deranged after all the weeks of the treatment he'd received.

"What would you expect me to do? Just admit this and let you toss me overboard? No I preferred a chance. A chance at survival. What are you gonna do, kill me now boy!? Huh? What makes you think you're so much better than I am? You're no better. Not after all you've done to me on this boat."

Marius was silenced by as slap across the face from Sigmund and then a kick to the groin, causing the shackled doberman to drop to his knees.

Sigmund dropped his gun and fell down on Marius, delivering several angry blows to the guard's face in quick succession, breaking his nose and causing several cuts and bruises.

"You! After all you've done, and you led me on all this time. And now you have the balls to say that I'm no better than you are!?" Sigmund spat in the doberman's face, causing Marius to snarl and turn his head to the side as he received it.

The doberman turned his head back and opened his eyes, though he noticed something on Sigmund's neck. "Th... the collar! It's gone!"

"What!?" said Sigmund, grabbing at his neck. Indeed, the collar had fallen off during the scuffle and now rested, opened, somewhere on the floor of the boat.

"All this time? ..." wondered Sigmund aloud. In truth, the collar's electromagnetic locking mechanism had been damaged during the storm just like its GPS monitoring system. And all this time, he and the doberman had been fighting over something that only held itself flimsily onto his neck.

Sigmund stood up and took in his surroundings. He turned his head for a moment and saw a most welcome sight. There was a small gray blip on the horizon of the ocean. A mirage? No, there it was, a flash of light from the mast of the vessel.

Sigmund busied himself quickly. He took down his boat's sail and then got into the driver's seat, starting the engine and heading in the direction of the ship. The wolf was no fool and knew he would never have enough fuel to reach the mainland from Bastana, so he had used his sail and conserved enough fuel for occasions such as this.

---

The filthy-looking brown rat sneered over the side of the ship as he adjusted his helmet and then ashed his cigarette over the side. His teeth were stained a deep yellow and his eyes were a dark red. He wore a blank black baseball cap on his head and the rest of his body was covered by a sort of leather protective gear that left his arms exposed, showing off his unkempt ruffled fur. At his hip were two revolvers and his chest was crisscrossed with belts of ammo. A large machine gun was hung from the rat's back. It seemed a bit overdone, even for pirates and smugglers. Perhaps the rat was trying to compensate somehow for his smallness and perceived weakness.

"Hey guys!," said the rat with a disturbingly excited voice, followed by high pitched squeaks of what sounded like laughter. "We got 'em!"

"Yyeaah!?" squeaked another small fur, a mongoose, who emerged from the ship's cabin in similar punkish gear. This one had a spiked X-shaped harness draped over his shoulders with spikes on it that seemed to serve no practical function. The mongoose otherwise wore no shirt but had camo pants, combat boots, and some turbanlike headgear. On his shoulder rested an rocket-propelled grenade launcher that the mongoose looked like he would be all too eager to use.

"Hey Cap'n!," yelled the mongoose down into the ship's hold. "We got us a little prize!"

A sad reality, created by the unique labor practices in the Bastanian Islands, where Sigmund had recently escaped his slavery, was that it encouraged a unique form of piracy that had not been known in centuries -- the kidnapping of free persons from the seas into slavery. Pirate ships like this one would crawl the seas around Bastana looking for vulnerable vessels to waylay and kidnap the crew and passengers, who would then be forced to sign Bastanian foreign guest worker papers. It wasn't entirely legal, even by Bastanian standards, but it was immensely profitable for the pirates and a source of cheap slaves in the Islands, so many of the wealthy slaveowners who had settled in Bastana looked the other way.

Sometimes pirates were bold enough to abduct people from the mainland out to sea, but this entailed a greater risk of being caught or reprisals being launched by the Coast Guard or Navy of the UFK, the major government of most mainland regions. Bastana's defense forces made occasional operations against the pirates, mostly for show, but as Xarius Augustine approved of the piracy and manipulated most of the activity of the Bastanian government, these raids were usually ineffectual, the pirates having been given warning by Xarius to retreat to their secret hideouts on uninhabited islands or remote coastlines.

The hatch of the hold opened up and the captain climbed the ladders. A heavily muscled bulldog, the captain was so broad-shouldered he looked like he nearly had trouble making it through the hatchway.

"Well what we got here?," asked the captain in a low and gruff voice as he crossed his arms over his chest.

The bulldog lumbered about and looked as though he probably didn't have an ounce of brains in his head. It was all taken up by his muscles, which the black wifebeater he currently wore showed off very well. He was likely one of those who led through brute force rather than through any cunning or intelligence.

A ladder flopped down over the side of the ship into the boat as the three pirates peered over their railing and down into it.

"Damn I'm glad to see you guys!," Sigmund said. "I've been stuck out here at sea with a dangerous runaway slave for weeks. I was just about to run out of food too. We were running a cargo of 'workers' to Bastana before being capsized in that big storm. Slave here decided he'd try to escape in one of the ship's boats, and here we are."

Marius squirmed and growled ineffectually. The doberman was more tied and shackled up now than before. In addition, a leather strap, functioning as a makeshift muzzle on his face kept him from speaking or making any noise other than a lot of angry grunts.

Sigmund wore Marius' old patrol cap and some tattered remnants of the mercenary's gear.

"You might have to lift him up with a crane or something," said the wolf. "He's violent and too dangerous to let loose."

"So? You expect us to take your little friend and let you off the hook, huh?," asked the captain in his deep and gruff voice.

"Look," said the wolf. "I know what you guys do out here. I work for Xarius remember?"

"Uh huh," said the captain as he nodded, his fellow-pirates doing the same almost in unison. They weren't too bright and were often easily swayed by such distractions as the wolf was throwing up.

Marius growled with rage at this rouse he was forced to take part in, his face turning red as his eyes narrowed. He squirmed and kicked, wanting to get away. Though where? They were in the middle of the ocean anyway.

"Silence, slave!" shouted Sigmund as he beat the doberman heavily on the back with the former guard's own baton, causing him to collapse on the deck of the boat with a clatter of chains.

"You see how dangerous he is?," said Sigmund as he looked up to the pirates. "You're going to need to keep him muzzled at all times or he'll try to rip your throat out."

Sigmund crawled onto the ship with the ladder while the pirates hoisted Marius onboard with a rope. He had thought out the situation reasonably well for the amount of time he had to prepare from the moment he spotted the ship's mast.

Xarius Augustine, the Dragon lord of Bastana had done his best to make sure that no slaves would ever successfully escape his island fortress. In addition to the tracking collars, there was a significant bounty, or "return reward" offered for anyone returning an escaped slave to its owner on Bastana. In passing the doberman off as the slave, Sigmund greatly increased Marius' value as a commodity to the pirates rather than his own. As he behaved and carried himself as a free man and Marius was chained, acting petulant and violent, the simple-minded pirates were unlikely to sense the rouse.

"And what about you?," the captain asked Sigmund. "What you think we should do with you?"

"I would appreciate being dropped off at the port of Richfield before you take the slave to Bastana, if we're closer to there," said Sigmund. "I'll have to settle some business there before reporting to Xarius. I know Xarius takes good care of you guys and wouldn't want anything to happen to his personal guards, now would he."

"Uhhh, no sir, no way!," replied the captain before agreeing that he would transport Sigmund to the mainland before returing Marius to his "slavery" back on Bastana.

---

Marius shuddered in the small space. He couldn't sit down, though he couldn't see anything in the darkness either. The only light was the occasional flash of the red indicator on his slave collar, which showed him to be in a well-like structure. The doberman beat on the stone wall and screamed out, crying in anger and yelling his desire for revenge to the empty blackness.

He was angry. He was angry at Sigmund, that pathetic little slave pup for overpowering him and outsmarting him now at every turn. But his current situation was his own fault, he knew, deep down. It was his fault for not turning back when the storm hit, when everyone sensible had gone back. It was his fault for continuing to relentlessly pursue the wolf through the storm, and that ended up with him here, in this place. Wherever that was.

A rope ladder fell down into the pit, as if in response to the former mercenary's cries of anger. He grabbed it and began to pull himself up. Finally, he crawled out of the black chasm and into a small room in the back of Xarius Augustine's chambers.

The doberman panted softly as his muzzle met with the clawed feet of Lord Xarius Augustine, God of Dragons. He looked up, his eyes moving across the glorious black-scaled body, clad in crimson robes until he finally saw the cruel and vengeful face of his god.

"Good evening, slave," said the dragon. "I trust you enjoyed your stay in hell?"

"P.. please Sir," said Marius. "I know I fucked up, but you have compassion, you have mercy yes?"

"I have very little tolerance for incompetence and weaklings," retorted the dragon. "You have cost me a prized slave and a magnificent fighter, and you will repay me in the only way you can."

Marius, utterly broken by his experiences, moved up on his knees a bit and put his paws up, making a downcast expression like a whipped puppy.

"And while I'm thinking on it," said Xarius, reaching into the pocket of his robes. "You know I've always believed that only dragons should be allowed to cum.

Marius' jaw dropped and his eyes went wide at what he saw. Xarius had pulled from his pocket a vicious cock cage with curved spikes on the inside that would dig into him fiercely should he ever somehow derive excitement or pleasure from his new life.

---

Silva sat and sighed contentedly as he watched one of his favorite shows on TV. He was dressed in his usual leathers, usually preferring these even when at home. Argyle, his otter slave, knelt quietly by his leg, holding it in a loving embrace with his head resting on his Master's knee.

Argyle had been removed from The Silencer some time ago, but was still clad in his iron mitts. He was happy though. His Master's self confidence had improved tremendously since their little talk.

Silva had stopped going to the Leather Talon for one thing. That way he'd never meet Arcturus or people like that again. His friends, the real ones anyway, still knew they could come and visit him if they wanted to see him or go hang out in other places he did. The bear had stopped beating himself up over the past, whether it was his fault or someone else's.

Indeed, Silva had recently been to the unemployment office today. He'd also just gone through about a hundred applications from different places. Some of them were not jobs he would like to have held, but right now he knew anything was better than nothing and he needed a source of income so he wouldn't lose the house. He'd decided he needed to start getting the otter to look for a job too. Was going to get him out of the iron mitts tomorrow.

A knock came on the door.

The bear turned his head and blinked and the otter lifted his muzzle up a bit from the bear's leg.

"Now who would be coming by at 10:30 at night?," said the bear to himself, getting up and moving over to the door, pulling Argyle with him by a leash.

As Silva stooped to peer through the peephole to see who was at the door, his jaw dropped.

"My gods!"

"Master?," said Argyle looking up at him.

"It's the pup!," he said before flinging the door open.

Sigmund shivered a bit as he stood on his Master's doorstep. He was wearing the tattered remnants of Marius' mercenary gear. His fur was matted and damp. He had to take a jump in the water as the ship approached port and swim to shore as to not get entangled in customs and bogged down to to the legal questions regarding his departure and subsequent return.

"My boy!," said Silva, grabbing at his former slave and hugging him tightly, nuzzling into his neck and squeezing him harder than anyone he had ever before.

The both of them sniffled and cried, wetting each other's fur with their tears.

"I missed you Sir," said Sigmund. "Every day I was gone."

"I missed you to boy," said the bear. "Where've you been all this time? We've heard nothing here."

The wolf just clung to his owner and sighed, shuddering. "Sir, I'm not worthy to rejoin your house after how I ran away. But if you could just please, even just make me your permanent dog, I'd be happy."

"You know I don't want that anymore, boy." The bear took hold of one of Sigmund's paws with both hands and forcefully pulled it up, nuzzling it and giving it a lick. "We're going to be a true family now."

Sigmund smiled and looked into the eyes of his Master. Finally he had come home where he belonged.

The next day, Master Silva took both his boys out for a nice dinner after getting Sigmund cleaned up. It was stretching their expenses a bit, but Silva felt that this was a momentous occasion that needed celebrating. When they got home, Silva also presented Sigmund with a new collar of fine leather and put it around his neck. Argyle, however, seemed somewhat glum during the whole thing. He barely said a word at dinner as Sigmund described some of his more harrowing adventures. The otter also kept his distance as Sigmund was re-collared by his Master.

Later that evening, Master Silva pulled Argyle aside and into his room quietly for a little talk.

"What's the matter pup?," asked Master Silva. "You've been down all evening."

"Oh Sir," said Argyle. "Haven't I been loyal to you? I've never run out on you. I've always been here for you in your worst times and never hurt you. And Sigmund ran away from you and now you throw a party for him. I don't understand it."

"Boy," said Master Silva as he put his paw on Argyle's shoulder.

"If there's anything I've learned over this difficult time, its to focus on what is important. My job and all that was nice, but what is it without having a family to share it with?" he said. "This is an occasion for us to be happy. For your brother, who was gone and dead, is now alive again. And as a family, we can be whole once more."

The otter sniffed and cried a little bit and then hugged his Master, who hugged him back.

"It will be better now Sir?"

"It will be, my boy. I promise."

Master called Sigmund into the room now and the two slaves held their Master in a firm embrace. Sigmund had tried to take a walk on the other side of the fence. But what he found out was that it wasn't always better on the other side. Sometimes home was more important. And now, the three of them looked out the window as the sun rose on the dawn of a new day.

The End.