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The Lunt Street Ripper's Sentence (3)

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Hello, folks! This is the next chapter in Sanmer 's ongoing commission, and I hope you'll have an interesting time reading! I've been on a roll, and it's a good thing I'm putting these out- and I look forward to hearing from you, your feedback is certainly encouraging me to keep going further, and getting more work done. *smiles* Do leave me comments, vote, fave and watch...all the feedback is always appreciated.

Have a good read now!

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The Master's private quarters were an opulent suite of rooms in the second floor of the grand manor house. Gilded doors of mahogany opened from the hallway into a gentleman's parlor, smoking room, dressing room, a private office, and behind many other doors, out of sight, the bedroom itself, surprisingly small and private, although, only one of the many rooms fit with beds in this particular mansion.

The Master's body might have been weary from the long journey on the carriage but his spirit was invigorated and excited to no end, much like his own manly rod still making a mess of his underwear. The horse was amused by his own ungentlemanly arousal, his urges truly primal and burgeoning for a release. He was surprised that he had managed to deny himself this long, too, it being over a day since the last time he had spilled his seed, with or without the aid of his thralls.

"Milord," the bear spoke when his Master came to his presence, in the dressing room he entered.

"Edward," the horse spoke, not because he felt the need to be polite, but because it brought him pleasure of its own. "Help me undress."

"Yes, Master."

The room was well appointed with mirrors and they allowed the stallion to observe every moment, every motion of the bear's paws as they began to open buttons, unfurl collars and remove latches and hooks. The horse was used to such attention since birth, he had not been blessed with self-made wealth, rather, what his father had left him, he had put into a much better use than his old father could have ever imagined. Such savings in the costs of the staffing his household when you didn't have a pay a single penny to his servants, for example. There were better uses for his money to be invested in, such as importing rare plants from Malay and Indonesia for the purposes of his chemical experiments.

A horse standing in front of the mirror, with the stern-faced bear opening the buttons on his exquisite silk vest.

"Isn't it wonderful to have a new brother, Edward?" the horse spoke.

"Yes, sir," the bear's answer was dutiful, quick, polite, and most of all, dull.

The horse nickered.

"You do not sound enthusiastic, Edward," the horse said.

He knew that was an understatement.

"Yes, sir," the bear said.

The Master chuckled.

"Isn't that so," he mused.

"Yes, sir."

He pushed his arms back to help the bear in easing the vest from him, to bare his torso for his own eyes. His body was toned from rigorous exercise he went through daily to ensure that he stayed in perfect condition. Work might have been discouraged for someone of independent means, but to protect an image of health, that was more important. Even better than that, he _felt_that way, enjoyed the strength in his sinewy limbs and the muscled body observable from the full-length mirror, without clothes from the waist up but for the golden pendant hanging from his neck.

Shirtless now, his slacks bulged with the obscene curves of his testicles and his erection.

"I have been looking for someone like him for quite some time now, Edward," the horse said.

It might have technically been a monologue since the bear had been stolen of most of his ability for independent thought, but he still enjoyed the habit, if only for the sound of his own voice. He wouldn't have expected much in the way of philosophical reflection from the bear, anyway. He'd been thrown into the gaol for violently beating his wife after several tankards of beer and some very cheap gin, the remarkably detailed court records had told the horse when he had been seeking for someone suitable for training into taking care of his house.

"Yes, Milord," the bear said, moving to undo the buttons of the horse's trousers now, bulging erection in the way or not.

"It has been a while since a new brother joined the house," the horse continued his musings, "nobody new since we...recruited...Percy into our ranks."

"Indeed, Milord," the bear agreed.

"Such a sweet tight boy arse, Percy..." the horse's tongue slipped into profanity while his tail swapped against his rump, "you've enjoyed it, haven't you, Edward?"

"I have," the bear spoke without passion.

"Surely better than your drunkard wife's sloppy cunt," the horse nickered with pleasure.

"Yes, sir," the bear's hollow reply amused the horse, in a way.

"Well, what'd you know, anyway," the Master chortled. "It doesn't really matter."

He moved to sit on a stool and allowed the bear to remove his trousers, folded carefully onto a clothes rack once they were off his legs. The soft cloth underwear couldn't contain the entirely of his erection. The blunt, gel-smeared tip poked out from under the corded waistband and onto the horse's belly. The musk it emitted was intense, even to his own ears. His balls itched.

"Where is my robe?" the Master asked.

"It is ready here, Milord," the bear displayed the garment, hanging from the door of an open wardrobe. "Shall I bring it to you?"

"In a moment," the horse said. "Come here, first. Stand here, in front of me."

The well-dressed bear walked across the intimately lit room and stopped in front of the seated horse.

"Yes, Milord."

"Kneel."

The bear's lumbering body settled upon his knees on the carpeted floor. His eyes were resolute and steady, simply staring ahead of him, at the level of the horse's nipples.

"Put my big, wet cock into your maw, Edward."

The bear did not even flinch. His head hung, his lips parted and the large, blunt tip of the horse's cock was taken between them. The master neighed strongly at the feeling of hot wetness upon his needy organ. His legs, stretched out, tensed, and his hooves clopped against the floor.

"Nhhmhmm..."

The bear's tongue circled the underside of the horse's flared tip and made him itch in a very good way indeed. The stallion even let his eyes close for a moment while he let the bear butler polish his master's pole with his maw. What he might've lacked in enthusiasm was certainly more than made up for in sheer willingness to obey every single of his master's whim.

"Take more of it out and put it in your maw."

The bear pulled on the horse's undergarments to release more of the thick shaft, and as more emerged, it also sunk into the bear's throat. The Master's eyes opened again, so that he could look at the dark muzzle struggling to fit more of the horse cock into his maw. Saliva dribbled from between those lips, and a few drops fell onto the white cloth and painted dark splotches there.

"Messy..." the horse said, "more."

The bear gagged. His coughing brought a splatter of spittle onto the horse's groin.

"Up...and again...up...and again."

The bear forced the massive cock into his gullet again and again, into his throat and then up so that he could catch a breath before once again pushing himself down on his Master's member. He would not choke upon the thing, the horse knew as much, no matter the threatening noises that the bear's attempts to deep throat it could cause. Self-preservation instincts ran too deep for even the most powerful animal magnetism to overcome. He could not tell the bear to climb onto to the roof of the manor and step over the edge. Some things remained beyond the horse's reach.

The horse knew he was playing dangerous games, but he was happy with what he got for now. Lust for blood and murder was something he left for the likes of Ripper. His own interests ran into other kind of passions of the flesh.

"Hupppphhp!"

The bear's throat constricted around his cock through another choking spell, before the butler lifted his head to let air flow once again.

"That is enough," the horse said.

The bear's muzzle slipped away and he swallowed audibly, yet remained on his knees in front of the horse.

"Remove my underwear and bring me my robe."

The Master and the servant both stood up. The bear pulled the horse's garments down and he stepped out of them, after which the bear dutifully picked them from the floor. Then he fetched the ornate, embroidered robe from where it hung and eased it onto the horse. He even pulled and tied the silk cord around the waist to secure it with a hint of modesty onto the stallion whose huge organ made a dent onto the smoothness of the fabric that hugged onto his form.

The horse looked at himself on his mirror and smiled.

"I wonder if your brothers have the bath ready yet."

"I will check, Milord," he said.

"Oh, no need," the horse said, "you should retire for the night. You won't be joining in the bath tonight. I will have Percy, Hugo, Pip and Alistair to help me with your new brother."

"Yes, Milord," the bear bowed.

The horse watched him for a beat, and then followed the bear from the room. The butler deferred to him when the horse's longer stride brought him past him and waited before he passed. The Master smiled quietly to himself, traversing across the carpeted hallways and into the stairs, dimly lit with the latest innovation installed into his house, electric bulbs of lighting powered by a little dynamo in the stream that had once ran a mill to grind the peasant's flour. Now it brought a comfortable glowing light into the house that was much ore convenient than the oil lamps that had been a necessity in this remote manor without access to the gas supply in the city.

The bath was inconspicuously located into an annex that had been built behind the billiards room, windowless, but lit so comfortably by these new electric bulbs, it didn't matter whether it was the night or the day. The wooden panels, the floor tiled in a sea foam green, white and blue, the ceiling that depicted nude classic male forms painted by an artist who had been made quite forgetful of how exactly he had earned a hundred pounds into his pocket, once he woke up in Montmartre with an empty bottle of absinthe in his paw.

The horse thought that had been a nice touch. And he had really enjoyed Paris, with his little...entourage.

The room was furnished to the horse's expensive taste, beyond the simple fittings. There were benches for lying about for massage and for washing, racks of oils, salts and soaps, thick flannel cloth towels in racks and hooks. The bath itself was a tiled pool four feet deep and sunk onto the floor, with a little over three feet of steaming hot water in it, produced by a huge steam-heated tank in an adjoining room. Large bore piping could fit it in a matter of minutes with enough hot water to let the horse and any number of his thralls to enjoy a thoroughly relaxing, hot bath.

The men waited for him when he arrived, standing ready. All four of them were clad in their bath attendant's attire, a rule that had only been needed to be voiced once for it to be adhered to until further notice. If the Master told them to prepare the bath, that included preparing themselves as well.

They wore leather harnesses and collars, decorated with gold stitching and hoops of metal, over their chests and backs, with additional straps about their thighs that connected to the leather belt around their waists like a crude approximation of the garter belt of a lady. They looked fine on the muscled bodies of the men as well. Thinner leather straps pulled over their groin, between their ass cheeks and locked onto thick silvery rings, a number of them that worked to present them best for their Master.

A ring around the tail, with just enough tension on it brought by a leather strap onto the harness to make sure that while they allowed movement, they remained just a hint raised at all times, an effect the Master enjoyed with his lustful gaze to no end. Another ring closed about their scrotum and pushed their testicles forward and taut, to display those tightly packed sacs. The final ring enclosed about their sheaths and made sure that at least part of their cocks would always be on display, whether soft or hard, with the silky skin pushed back by the unyielding grasp of the metal so that their pink members had no choice but to droop out of their furry covers.

They stood upright, eyes forward, their bodies on display for their Master's pleasure.

The horse took it all in the stride, however, to step over to his own particular seat in the relaxation area of the bath, its air full of warm mist now that the hot water simmered in the pool. The chair was upholstered in leather and covered in warm, dry towels for extra comfort. The backrest was slanted so that he could rest himself fully. The seat was vaguely Y-shaped so that when he was seated, his legs were comfortably spread, not as much for his own special needs, but because it provided better access for anyone who might be kneeling on the thick rug conveniently placed in front of the Master's special chair.

"I see everything is ready," the horse spoke.

"Yes, Master," Alistair, the white tiger, a splendid sight out of his street clothes, replied their shared sentiment.

"Hugo, come and put your hands on my shoulders, they need one of those Swedish massages we have read about," he said.

"Yes, sir."

The rat was deeply muscled and looked more like a miner than a gentleman's servant. The horse knew very well that he had not been a miner, but in fact, an out of luck navvy who liked cards and harlots more than the hard physical labor that had shaped his body to be like it was now, full of muscle packed in a leather harness.

The stallion pulled the silks off his shoulders so that the rat could put his calloused, pink hands upon them. They might have looked strange but they were strong enough to crush bones, the horse knew. It thrilled him to know that these hands, used to wielding a pickaxe or a shovel, were now under his control.

"Hmmm...very good, Hugo," the Master complimented his thrall as the hands began to massage over his muscles, "I have needed this."

"Thank you, Milord," the rat spoke with the usual flat affect of the Master's servants.

"Alistair, fetch Robert and your new brother from the antechamber."

"Yes, sir."

The Master watched the white tiger walk across the room with pleasure. That long, striped tail was pulled into a most attractive S-shape that simply drew eyes onto his white, perfectly shaped arse. it was a sight the horse never got tired of seeing, and the knowledge of how those muscles handled under his palms, or the sheer heat of the stretched, musky hole between them...sublime pleasure in a wriggling leather-strapped package of manhood, a peak of virile feline sexuality he had used for his carnal joys more times he could count.

There was a deep blue curtain that set aside an archway into another part of the bath area, and the tiger pulled on a braided cord to part the cloth. The small room beyond was used by the servants for preparing for the bath service and included hooks for hanging their own clothes, and cabinets where their bath...attire was stored. It was as spotlessly clean as the rest, and lit with a plafond in the ceiling that cast a warm glow upon its occupants, the lion wearing a leather getup not unlike that of his brothers, and the wolf standing next to him.

The horse's cock stirred once anew at the sight of the Ripper. The wolf's bag was nowhere to be seen anymore, and his cuffs and his loincloth had been removed as well so that he stood there, tall, imposing, furred in unruly curls of hair that did not conceal the bulk of his muscles. The dim lighting made him appear even more imposing, perhaps, combined with the slightly ethereal atmosphere created by the steam and the fragrant herbs and essential oils added into the water for the horse's sensuous titillation.

"Come in, come in!" the horse called out.

The lion still held the wolf by his arm and brought him forward, followed by the white tiger behind him.

"Hello, Ripper," the Master rumbled.

The wolf did not speak. His face was a scowl of impassiveness and silence. The tension lines under his jaw remained, visible even through his fur.

"You don't have speak...yet," the horse smiled. "But I am sure that the conversations we will have shall be very fascinating indeed, once I allow you to speak."

The wolf remained still, naked, and dark.

"Percy, come and rub my calves."

Percy was a young, bright-eyed cheetah, who did not hesitate when he came forward, his bound balls and sheath bouncing while the slinky boy approached and knelt onto the pallet in front of the horse. The Master stretched out his right leg and tapped the floor with his hoof.

"Start here, and do not hurry."

"Yes, sir."

"Use your tongue, too."

The cat's paws stroked ever so softly over the muscled calf, feeling its shape as if getting to know it for the first time. He was intimately familiar, of course, and wasted no time before his lips kissed the soft, silky fur of the horse's leg.

"That's a good boy," the horse said.

He smiled, and looked up at the wolf, challenging him with his gaze. He knew that such a bold offense must've made the terrible soul inside this furry prison claw at the invisible bondage of the animal magnetism the wolf had wrapped around his mind. He was not going to let the wolf forget who he truly was...without taking his own pleasure out of the equation, of course. The horse had particular needs to fulfill and this wolf was going to be a thrill.

"See that?" he pointed at the cheetah kneeling obediently by the horse. "That's what they do for me, Ripper. That's what they are here for."

The cheetah let out little rumbles of pleasure, suckling upon the horse's flesh, inhaling it with his nose while he continued to play with the stallion's body splayed out for him.

"That's what you are ultimately here for...to bring me pleasure..."

The wolf blinked.

"...in the flesh and the mind...because I think both of them will be...fascinating...and I look forward to learning all about them...oh yes...hmm...yes, Hugo, a bit lower..."

The rat's hands kneaded the stallion's shoulders firmly. The horse nickered softly. This was no time to be antsy...but he sure knew that his patience was not inexhaustible.

"This is my favorite room, Ripper," the Master said, "this is where the world is forgotten, and there is only pleasure...and occasional pain, though not for me, of course..."

He laughed, deeply.

"Inflicting pain brings me no pleasure, really, but sometimes it is inevitable..." the horse mused. "But it is not my primary aim. I am sure you will experience it, too...that subtle razor's edge between pleasure and pain..."

"Pip, lower the frame."

The tall, muscled wolf with the misnomer of a name stepped over to the wall where a brass handle protruded from an intricate piece of mechanic engineering, shiny metal, bolted onto a stand on the floor. Turns of the handle made chains rattle, and a bare metal rectangle of some size, composed of four metal bars hammered and welded together, descended from the ceiling.

"Robert, the long cuffs. I'm sure Pip's will be of correct size until we have procured ones especially for Ripper. You won't have any complaints about them, I'm sure."

The lion made a quick detour into the antechamber and returned with a pair of leather cuffs. They were a well-crafted thing, with a series of leather loops, not simply ones that went around the wrist, but rather, several buckled layers, four of them, that enclosed most of the massive wolf's thick forearm once they cuffs were put into place. Alistair, the white tiger, was ordered to assist with the work, which the stallion observed with pleasure that made his own untouched stalk throb powerfully beneath the swath of silk precariously held over his loins.

"Just to make sure you know how I like my men to be in this house, Ripper...bound and wearing leather at all times for my enjoyment, of course, unless I get the whim for something else, or you must go out for one purpose or another. Appropriate clothing will be provided then, of course. And just wait till you get an uniform like your brothers do...to keep you in display at all times...look how splendid your brothers are in theirs..."

The wolf did not reply. He did not resist the lion and the tiger who cuffed him, not even when they attached the cuffs with loops of metal and padlocks onto the frame that'd been lowered onto about the level of his chest.

"Raise the frame."

Pip turned the handle, cranking the chains so that the frame slowly rose towards the ceiling. The wolf had no choice but to lift his arms along with it, all the way until they were straight up over his head, stretched up.

"It is ready," the gruff wolf at the wheel spoke.

"Not yet," the Master said. "Two more inches."

The wolf seemed to know what the horse was saying, for he knew exactly how many turns to take on the crank to ensure that the frame was raised just that amount towards the ceiling with its lurid images.

The pressure on the Ripper's arms increased. The posture forced him to stand on his toes, his heels held up from the tiled floor so that he could stand without forcing himself to hang by his cuffed arms on the frame. The metal construction seemed to have no trouble taking even his partial weight. The posture created further tension in his body, one not born out of his fight against the horse's spells of sorts, but by the very nature of the uncomfortable way his body was manipulated onto by the bondage of leathers and brass.

"Oh look at you..." the horse crooned. "Most impressive, most impressive."

The wolf's face did not flinch.

"I shall have William photograph you...he is most talented," the stallion mused, "it is a pleasure to watch you even in still form...and it is not uncommon for me to want to capture some less popular...situations for further reminiscence....hmm...yes, Percy, that is so nice..."

The cheetah's muzzle was covered in his own saliva, applied copiously over the horse's leg. He didn't seem to mind that he'd gotten so slippery from the cat's mouth juices.

"Not to forget you, Hugo..." the stallion patted the rat's hand that was truly molding his shoulders anew, it felt to him, the muscles pliant and itching with blood rushing into them. It sure had been a fine idea to...temporarily employ that Swedish masseuse to teach his men how to do this thing right.

"Or the rest of you, my boys," the horse looked at the three muscled men standing by the wolf cuffed to the ceiling from the bondage frame. "You are so beautiful there...like you are just waiting for something..."

The stallion's smile widened, and grew more crude.

"...all those cocks and those tight arses...display them, boys."

The lion, the tiger and the wolf made a wordless turn upon the place, to show their leather-strapped rumps in a line of manly muscle displayed in the misty air of the bath. Their paws moved over their hips and gripped onto their ass cheeks, grabbed them, and pulled, tails rising to make sure that the horse could feast his eyes on their cracks and the holes hidden between them. Their collective buns rippled under their touch, muscled and well-shaped, trained to peak perfection.

"Lovely sight, isn't it, Ripper?" the horse spoke.

The wolf did not answer. His eyes were locked on the stallion's, somewhere between a challenge and a glaring stare. The horse could not tell what exactly went on inside that mind, trapped in this fleshy prison, but he was eager to find out.

"You should look, by all means, it is all for you to see," the horse laughed. "Beautiful arses and cocks on display...just look at those rumps, my friend...such a splendid sight, isn't it?"

The stallion let his eyes roam across the line of butts in his field of view and knew what his body craved for.

"Not even a little stir, Ripper?" the horse smirked. "You do like some sort of breeding...or is that part of you broken as well as that morale of yours that has left you with blood in your paws and teeth?"

The wolf's eyes wouldn't budge. Nor did his lips.

"Shame you're not talking yet. The others rare would have something interesting to say even if they had it in them to speak freely...but worry not. There will be time when we'll talk about everything...including what kind of fucking you prefer, whether it is wenches or the hot, hairy arse of a working lad..."

The horse looked hungrily at the wolf's thick sheath. It was unfortunately dormant at the moment. The Master did not mind that too much. He would rectify that err.

"Percy, stop for a moment."

The cheetah stopped mid-lick, and looked up to the horse.

"Yes, milord?"

"Stand up and help me with my robe. Hugo, pause for a moment."

"Yes, sir."

The cheetah moved to stand in front of his master, while the horse stood up to his full height, arms to his sides.

"Take it off."

The cheetah slipped the silk cord off the stallion's hips and then eased the rest of the garment off him, the silk slipping away from the tall body like water along a stone. Percy caught up the precious cloth into his paws and held it so that it would not fall onto the floor.

The wolf could now have his first, perfect look at the full extent of the horse's manhood. A foot of flesh, pink splotched with black, a heavy, leathery sheath and huge balls that seemed to be swaying still from the simple step he had taken to get up from the chair.

"Put that away, Percy."

The cheetah moved to place the silk robe away. The horse displayed his cock for the wolf, who refused to look away. The Master made it jump, with a flex of a hidden muscle.

And again.

And yet again.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the horse smiled with almost boyish enthusiasm. "Nothing much better than a big, hard prick, is there? I'm sure yours is most admirable, too..."

The stallion licked his lips while he eyed the wolf's fuzzy sheath, and smirked, as he allowed his cock to bounce once again.

"Percy, open the perch and the pillow and get into place. Your talents are required."

"Yes, Milord," the cheetah said.

"And you easy down, boys, you are amusing, but this get somewhat comic after a while."

The admirable males in their harnesses released their ass cheeks and allowed them to assume a more natural pose, their tails dropping as much as the steel rings let them without ruining the particular posture the horse preferred on them.

"Turn around and display your pricks, boys."

The show of the lion, the white tiger and the wolf gripping their sheaths and stroking them eagerly, in concert with their rumbles and grunts, to make their cocks appear out of their dormant homes. Soon their paws, adorned with those leather cuffs, were filled with pink meat pulsing out of their loins. Their displays were impressive, not as humongous as the horse, but certainly nothing to be ashamed about, should the need to use them arise.

"Look at those pricks..." the stallion spoke to his latest catch, "such a good display, is it not?"

This time the wolf even did glance, one eye, but it was there. The stallion found that...intriguing.

"Yes...such nice pricks...and sometimes I even let them play with them like that...slowly, boys..."

The lion, the wolf and the tiger handled their cocks with all the care a man showed to his most precious organ. Pads slowly stroked along lengths, hardened to fullness from the touch, their pent-up balls churning with steel in their leather and steel-stretched state beneath their now vacated sheaths.

"It is ready, Milord, " the cheetah spoke from behind him.

"Splendid!" the stallion nickered. "Now, Ripper, I must show to you this little innovation of mine...it truly makes it very comfortable for me to...sit and relax to any kind of a display that might be put for me here... and as you can see, Percy is all ready to please me."

The cheetah was sprawled on the floor, shoulders resting against the wooden base of the throne-like chair. Part of the seat had been removed by opening a convenient screw on the below, and that meant that when the horse returned to this chair and placed his legs upon the leather-padded rests, this left his tailbone on the chair and his scrotum hanging over the muzzle of the cheetah whose breath tickled upon his balls. The horse let out a little sigh of pleasure at the familiar, erotic sensation upon him, like a welcome, really, from the cheetah's maw.

"Fantastic, isn't it?" the horse addressed the wolf hanging from the bondage frame. "This way, your lovely friend may put his little tongue onto my arsehole while Hugo can still massage my shoulders...oh and you can watch...oh...heh...it tickles when he's moving my tail to the side...silly thing...yes..."

The wolf could surely see the cheetah's chin move as he began to lap and lick at the stallion's heavy balls that now laid upon his muzzle. His breath caressed the stallion's anus with its warm, damp brush, and the hot balls received a coating of saliva while he softly purring cheetah worked upon the meaty treats covering his face.

"Watch...maybe you'll learn something, Ripper..."

The wolf's bondage frame creaked.

"Hmmm..."

The cheetah ate out the horse's muscled, round, wrinkled hole. His tongue slithered across its tantalizing surface and left it covered in spittle, creating powerful contractions in the muscle guarding the stallion's entrance. His cock rested over his belly, so heavy and hard that it could not raise up to the classic pose of an erection due to its sheer weight. His cock flopped over slightly to the left and drooled musky, jelly-like juice that created a stain upon his smooth abdomen.

"You probably haven't had your arsehole licked, have you, Ripper?" the horse suggested amidst the lewd slurping of a tongue on his very own tail pucker. "Never had the pleasure of feeling a lovely warm tongue slide all over your dirty, hot, succulent, little asshole..."

The wolf still didn't snow any signs of agreement...nor arousal.

In fact, it pleased the stallion to no end.

"Alistair, Robert, lick your new brother's armpits."

The white tiger and the lion moved forward, cocks swaying in their ringed harnesses, as they took positions on either side of the wolf in bondage. Their muzzles pressed onto the deep, musky fur and sought the fragrant skin beneath it.

The horse watched for reactions, for the increased tension, how the firmly bound paws seemed to flex, high above his head. The two felines were purring and breathing deeply into his smell, finding the wolf's odor into their nosepads. What they thought about it, the horse didn't bother to ask...what he enjoyed was the sight of the two big males stroking their muzzles through the smelly fur of the Ripper's armpits, with their paws stroking over the wolf's straining pectoral muscles, their own cocks pressed firmly onto the bound wolf's hips.

"Enjoy yourselves, boys...keep rubbing yourselves on him...you deserve a little treat after such a long wait...and what a body to feast upon, too..."

The wolf's unflincing gaze even at the feeling of two hard, barbed pricks digging onto his legs, spouting pre-juice from pent up cat-balls, rumbling while they inhaled the wolf's deep, primal musk. Only a step away, Pip, the wolf, was still slowly stroking his own knotted cock while watching the proceedings dully.

"Enjoying what you see, Pip?" the horse neighed.

"Y-yes, Master," the wolf grunted.

The stallion smiled.

"You hear that, Ripper?" he spoke to the other wolf, the one suspended from the ceiling. "It is alright to say if you enjoy it...and you should be...two such lovely examples of men pawing on you like two-penny whores..."

The bound wolf maintained his silence.

"You should know...hmmm...." the horse's words were brought into distraction by the cheetah's muzzle toying with his balls, "Pip is so very much fine in what he does because he needs no encouragement to enjoy...this particular manner of pleasure...in fact, it was his unnatural conduct with a railway conductor that got him into trouble with the crown...and into my knowledge...and I have not regretted the decision since..."

The horse neighed deeply.

"I'm sure you'll learn to look up to your brother, Ripper, being a fellow wolf, too...and you have such a high pack mentality, don't you?"

Shlick, shlick, shlick.

"We're a wonderful pack here...perhaps you will find your place here..."

"Take your favorite oil from the shelf and bring it here," the Master ordered.

The wolf left his cock alone for a moment and fetched a small glass bottle from one of the shelves appointed with bathing supplies. His cock bounced threateningly when he walked over to the chair where the horse was still enjoying the rat's massaging hands and the cheetah's tongue slithering back and forth in his ass crack.

"Watch, Ripper...watch this how a true moral degenerate does it..."

The horse gestured with his fingers.

"Spread the oil on my cock and your arsehole and ride my prick, Pip. Let's show your new brother how we do things here."

Yes, sir," the wolf rumbled.

The stallion hissed at the feeling of the fingers on his shaft, spreading the warm liquid that left a glistening sheen all over his mighty organ.. He knew very well that the wolf, like all of them assigned to the bath, had had their rears cleansed and oiled in preparation for the horse's whims, and did not need an extra application.

"That's very good, Pip, now, sit on me...look at me...must show Ripper what it looks like when you have your tail raised...ready for it..."

"Yes, sir."

The wolf stepped close, over the horse and straddled him, the seat spacious enough to accompany his knees without crowding the horse. The Master enjoyed the feel of a meaty wolf cock slapping against his own belly, the smell musky and decadent and sweet...just what he needed at this moment.

"Very good, Pip...now...sit on your Master's cock...take it into your little arsehole..."

The horse used his hand, for the first time during the night actually lifting as much as a finger to do his bidding physically, but this time to press the tip of his cock onto the cleft of the wolf's ass. He knew that it was quite the vision, the huge cock rubbing against the wolf's balls, seeking access into his hole while the tail above was flagged up, revealing a hint of pink before the horse's cock obscured the view, lodging into the little space there was.

The wolf sat down with a mighty grunt, his hole constricting to keep away the mass invading, but the weight of the beefy canine was more than enough to overcome the resistance of his body. A deep part of his mind wanted it, too, and the conditioning and the commands imbedded in his frame of mind were only there to encourage him further, to get through the inevitable pain of having something so big pressing under his tail.

"Yes...good boy..." the horse crooned, his tailhole clenching against the cheetah's tongue, still teasing him to even further arousal while his hips flexed, a natural response to feeling something warm and tight against his cock.

He wanted to fuck.

He wanted to breed.

He was going to mate the wolf with his thralls in attendance, watching the proceedings of their Master plundering the big wolf's rear.

"Ahhh..."

"Watch, boys, Alistair, Robert."

The tiger and the lion, whom had been busy getting their noses filled with wolf-musk, stared eagerly at the sight of the horse's cock almost bending before the wolf's pucker relented and allowed the thick flare to pass...followed by the glistening shaft.

"Y-yes..." the horse groaned.

The wolf's legs trembled. His tail trashed...but he was sinking, slowly but surely, so that the horse cock slid deeper and deeper into his hole.

"How does that feel, Pip?" the Master spoke darkly.

"It feels...wonderful..." the big wolf spoke, uncharacteristically open and earnest, perhaps.

The wolf moaned out loud when the horse cock bottomed out in his rear. His body was tense, his head thrown back...and the horse's hands landing upon his hips.

"Fuck yourself on me, Pip...show them how you do it."

"Y-yeah..."

"Alistair, Robert, make sure that your new brother is covered in your seed, he must learn to know your scents and he might as well start right now...and you deserve to get off after being such good servants to me..." the horse spoke, remarkably in control of his voice despite the fact that his cock was balls deep in a tight, well-lubricated arse that was just aching for it.

He began to ride the stallion cock, just as the white tiger and the lion embraced the wolf, nuzzling his chest and his neck with affection the wolf likely had never experienced before, their thickly muscled bodies rubbing upon him and sandwiching their cocks on the wolf's furs. The horse leaned his head back and watched, with pleasure, and a small tilt, so that he could spy on the trio while the other big wolf sweated and grunted on top of him in his effort to drive that spike of flesh deep into his hole.

"Ah, the sweet sound of buggery..." the Master flicked his ears pleasantly-

The wolf continued his ride, big, knotted cock slapping the stallion's chest with each breath-taking bounce.

"You'll get acquainted quickly, I'm sure, Ripper," the horse spoke up, "it is something that happens a lot there...usually upon my orders...and you'll know all about my orders soon enough as well...there is no shortage of cock or arse in this house..."

The wolf on his lap moaned and groaned, riding into a deep wave of pleasure while his master remained sitting beneath him, remarkably stoic as he was.

"Lick your new brother's face, boys."

The two cats embracing the new wolf let their tongues droop out, covered in shiny saliva, and began to bathe the wolf like only felines could. To be marked in such a manner must've been so alien and horrendous...and the horse enjoyed watching every moment, the two males stroking the wolf and bucking their hips onto him in their quest to fulfill the commands given to them by the stallion.

"Hmmmph...such joy...such joy..." the stallion murmured to himself, as the fuck continued, the wolf impaled on him, a tongue in his arse, the rat's fine hands still rubbing over his increasingly sweaty shoulders.

"You dance so beautifully, Ripper...with your brothers..."

The dark wolf growled. The horse's ears flicked sharply.

"It speaks..." he chuckled, not forgetting to jam his hips up an inch or so when the wolf upon him was lifting himself up, and got a good poke under the tail for it, "...wonderful...wonderful indeed...just think how a tight wolf arse would feel around your own prick, Ripper...you should really try if you never did...which I suppose you didn't...it is a mighty good hole to fuck..."

The horse's hands gripped tightly onto the wolf's hips.

"Hmm...looks like it might not last too long...these tight wolf holes are treacherous...," the horse panted.

The horse's legs tensed, which was the most powerful outwards display of the fact that he was just loading a pint of high quality stallion sperm up the wolf's ass in thick, goopy spurts that filled the harness-wearing males tailhole and rectum with his Master's offering. The sudden, rushing heat made the riding wolf's own cock explode in what seemed like countless streaks of cum, splashing onto the horse's chest, neck, even Hugo's hands, the rat having not received orders to stop massaging his Master's shoulders.

"HMmmmmhhh..."

Beyond, things were different, once the Master's breath had calmed down and he could think about something other than the wolf's spasmodic colon around his cock. His feline thralls were still caressing the wolf's body with their paws, but this time their pads spread cum and rubbed into onto the Ripper's furs. Their cocks glistened and rested against messy patches on the captive wolf's hips.

"And you are ready, too...unlike our new friend..." the horse commented, almost mournfully, at the state of the Ripper's prick, still inside his sheath, "but we'll get there...now, boys, everyone, line up."

Upon command, they moved, the rat, the cheetah, face covered in musk and saliva, the wolf, with cum seeping from his rump and down his balls and his thighs...not to mention the entirely messy lion and the tiger, both sporting continued erections and cum against their bellies.

"Lovely, lovely men..." the horse spoke.

His legs giddy when he got up, stretched, and admired the sight of his own cock, still so very hard and with a drop of cum drooping from its end.

"Oh yes..."

He crossed the room and slipped into the water with a splash that even caught the cum-splattered wolf, still standing with his paws secured above his head, his tense tail and his rump on display to the horse who swam about in the water, getting the sweat of the action off his pelts.

"Hugo, lower the frame. Percy, remove the cuffs from Ripper and then bring to the bath. I think he needs a good wash. The rest of you, come here."

A chorus of agreement boomed through the room, when the wolf, the tiger and the lion, each covered in their cum, settled into the pool to cuddle close to their thrall-master. The horse welcomed them with a smile and put his arms around the lion and the wolf, enjoying the feel of their bodies, and the wet leather, pressing onto his sides.

"Very good brothers..." the horse stared, "and I just can't wait for Ripper here to join you as well..."

He watched the twitching tail, and felt his cock give an equally strong reaction.

"You are strong-willed, Ripper, but so am I," he said, before resting his back against Robert's warm, furry chest.

*

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