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I'd picked him up at the bar across the street. I don't know what made me pick him out of several potential lays; maybe it was his eagerness to please, or it was his supple body, or even his willingness to go along with whatever I suggested. Whatever it was, I think above it all what cemented my decision was the fact that he smelt fresh. Unspoilt, untouched, unadulterated virgin flesh... I couldn't believe my eyes when over the sharp stench of cocktail booze and his nasty aftershave I'd gotten myself a whiff of his inexperience. It was always a scent that drove me crazy. A delicate mix of unbridled horniness and arousal with just a tinge of fear, apprehension, and nerves, played out by pheromones and sweat. I know some Alphas like their bitches to be well mannered and trained, already broken in and ready to be bred, but I had a distinct attraction for those who hadn't had their ripe cherries picked yet. Call me old fashioned, but I liked breaking them in myself. To hear their fresh, young, pained moans as I ruined them for the first time in their lives gave it a bigger edge and thrill for me.

The boy - Tom his name was, or something - now sat in my room's bath tub, glugging down the last of the beer I'd offered him when we'd got into the room. He was entirely naked, having stripped off at my request once the door was closed and securely locked - I didn't want my prey to escape now, did I? He was a rather beautiful specimen, though he probably would have preferred the term 'handsome' were he more sober and less inclined to be acting like a desperate flamer. I think as the night had gone on he'd been getting camper and camper, to the point where he had started off as a lad was now ending up to be near enough drag queen levels. Not that I had anything against that, just it was funny to watch him slur that he was a real 'bro' when it came to the guys he liked in a girly voice whilst sipping possibly the brightest drink I'd ever seen. He'd even managed to match the whole persona up with the arguable 'white boy' look. I'd have fun tearing him a new one, I was as sure now as I was then.

"So when are we gonna fuck?" He asked, a light giggle at the end of the sentence like he'd just said something horrifically naughty. It was a little cloying, but I promised myself it'd all be worth it in the end. He showed a remarkable potential in him.

"Soon. But we've got to get you ready first." For all intents and purposes, it was like dealing with a child, but that kind of mental image would quite easily sour my mood, so I did my best to ignore my inside voice. The beast wanted to be sated first, and then I could think about kicking the bitch to the curb if he didn't live up to my expectations. It wasn't like I was in town for long. If he ended up being a waste of time I wouldn't have to endure his needy approaches.

I kicked open the door to the en suite bathroom that was part of the room. I'd already set up my gear before I'd left the hotel. It was just something I always took around with me regardless of whether I was looking for hook ups or not. I was only in town for an interview for some engineering position, but I just figure it's better to be prepared rather than end up regretting having not brought it along with me. As Tom stumbled into the bathroom, he saw the set-up fitted to what should have been the showerhead. I was pleased with the work, some places are a little tricky trying to get everything sorted, but this had been a piece of cake. I'd bought the kit online, decided I'd splash out - no pun intended - and got a high end model. Most guys were squeamish at the thought of cleaning themselves out, but I didn't want to go sticking my dick into someone's hole if I'm only going to be pulling out disgusting shit. People don't like dealing with it, some try not to give it too much thought, but I always make an effort to ensure my lays are spotless where it counts. I was fairly sure that little Tommy here hadn't even been prepared to get bred hard tonight, so I was real happy I'd brought the kit along with me.

"What is it?" He asked, adding a small hiccup at the end. Of course he'd have no idea what this was. Internet porn might have eventually led him to learn about the dirtier sides of his sexuality, but obviously being the freshly-turned adult that he was all he'd ever seen were cute hunky guys banging each other, naturally with condoms, in probably the most mundane environments known to man. The dorm bedroom, the changing rooms of the gym or college, the random bedroom of a hotel room they'd rented for the day, all the stupid shit. He had no idea what he was in for. In some ways, that'd both work for and against my benefit. It basically meant I'd be leading him by the hand, or preferably the leash, and showing him the ropes whilst I could blatantly lie to him about how shit works. For all he knew, getting an enema was routine for every bottoming bitch. Well, it should be. I was gonna hammer it into him if he was worth keeping in my little black book of fucks.

"Something to help you wash yourself."

"Pfft," he snorted, giggling, "I don't need help dude." He let out a burp. Maybe I should make that his last beer and get him to sober up some. The water would probably wake him up. I don't want my cock-sleeve passing out on me. It's no fun breeding a limp body - it's like fucking a pissing corpse, only a tiny bit less gross. Nobody wants a dead weight in their body who's got the potential to vomit. "It looks weird."

"That's because it's to wash a special place." I had to make my words plain and simple. Otherwise he'd lose interest and do something stupid which would ruin everything. "Just get in the shower."

It was a walk-in one, just like I'd specifically requested. It would have helped to have a bath tub, I'll admit, but trying to manhandle a half-drunk slut in and out would have been a hassle. It's much easier just to let him squat as he gets filled up then direct him to the toilet.

"What special place?" I ushered him into the shower, not answering his question. I couldn't stand around and play nanny to the kid forever. We were losing precious time that could be spent pounding his brains out against the headboard whilst I bury myself in his tight little ass.

Now that he was finally stood before me and not trying to drop to his knees to press his face into my crotch, I could finally take in the sight of him. The first thing I probably noticed was his smooth, flawless skin. Sure, I'd always have that animalistic inclination to rutting with my own kind, as any furry would, but I'd always had this fetish for humans. They're skin was so fascinating, that the cool, white alabaster of his flesh was supple and firm to the touch; it just screamed to be desecrated and destroyed by my claws all over his body. Even know, I could see myself raking my paws along his chest, back, and stomach just to make sure I left unforgettable marks of my dominance on him - never deep enough to seriously wound or scar, but enough to leave him with welting cuts that stung for a day or so as they healed. He was hairless too, shaven as most twinks tended to be these days, which just added to the whole sultry allure of it all. His chest was perfectly smooth, navel void of any hair, and his pubes looked as if they'd been freshly waxed or something, and I didn't doubt that he'd made sure to get his crack mowed too so that he was some top's dream. He didn't seem to be the kind to get a fake tan either, something which was a pet peeve of mine. Nothing tasted worse than those chemicals on your tongue as you lapped over tender flesh - humans couldn't taste that shit, but us furries had more finely tuned senses. It was like going to take a lick of a lollipop only to find that its flavour was that of rancid vomit. So Tom had this lovely natural look to him, where his skin was a fine shade between olive and marble white, freckled in places across his shoulders, nipples a delicious dark tinge between pink and beige. He had one of those belly buttons that went in too, which meant the curves of his stomach and abdominals was neatly marked with the small indent, giving my eyes a straight trail to follow down to his swinging balls and throbbing cock. It was actually the first time I'd paid any attention to his crotch, not that I was planning on ignoring it, but it just occurred to me that I hadn't really sized him up. Honestly he was bigger than I'd expected - not very thick, mind, but he definitely had some length to him. I guessed he probably would have reached a solid eight inches on a good day, but I didn't care. I could dwarf him flaccid, so I couldn't give two shits if he was hung or not. I was going to be the one fucking his submissive hole, not the other way around. I didn't bend over for any man. Which reminded me...

"Bend over." Out came the commands. I always got like this when I entered that zone. Some doms will have it, others tend to just be 'on' all the time with their slaves, but for me, I would be rather lax and laidback for the most part. But when my blood would be set on boil, simmering up to that stage where I was rock hard and ready to fuck, then out came the aggressive daddy figure boys like Tommy craved so much. I barked the order at him, standing back to pick up the nozzle of the head that I'd screwed on. It was a rather petit dildo, nothing fancy though it hardly needed to be, shaped like the average human's cock whilst being vivid translucent neon blue in colour. Just longer than six inches, barely over a digit wide, it would do nicely to clean out Tom's tight butt. He blushed, like any embarrassed male would when he's finally about to get his cherry picked, but he did as he was told, turning around and placing his hands against the cold tiles of the opposite wall. I think he expected me to fuck him with it, that this would be the lead up to actual sex, but whatever he thought was going to happen certainly wasn't about to.

As he leaned over, I got a good view of his ass. It was all I could have ever hoped it would be. Tight pucker flexing and pulsing as his muscles anxiously worked themselves over as probably all the doubts were running through his buzzing head, the skin perfectly smooth and taut, not a single hair tarnishing the bubbled globes of flesh. I could see the dark colour of his crack come up from his taint, his balls hanging just in view, and it marked a clear line where it led to his hole. It took a lot of resistance on my part to not just stuff my tongue into his ass there and then and give it a slurp. I doubt he could have managed with a bear's advantages of an insanely long, thick tongue down his ass, plus I didn't want to bury myself in there only to get a mouthful of something rank. Priorities came first.

I squirted some lube onto the tip of the enema's dildo-head just so that it'd be entry easier for him. Frankly as a gay man willing to let another guy anywhere near his asshole, he should already be used to having something enter him. A few fingers maybe, something like that. The dildo should be light work for him, but part of me suspected he'd only bitch about it if I didn't, so I just covered my bases.

I brought the would-be toy to Tom's hole, the lubed head pressing against his opening. Immediately I felt resistance, which was nothing but a great annoyance, and here it came to be where I'd finally test how much patience and commitment the boy had to getting fucked. If he whined now, and depending on how great a whine it would be, it would determine whether or not I'd bother to train him and mould him into my little cock slut. I bore down on the toy, pushing with insistent force, grunting out an order that told him to relax, and we waited until who'd give out first, my arm or his hole. Given my build and experience, I'm pretty sure you know who won. He let out a little whimper as his pucker sucked up the head of the dildo, but he was a champ for not passing some snippy comment about it. Maybe I'd underestimated him and maybe he had the making of something great within him.

I had to give him a chance to get used to the sudden intrusion, but I didn't wait long, just a few seconds is all to let him adjust and know that this was happening now, before then I pushed the rest in. Though it was only a few inches more, it probably felt like a lot to him, because he grunted and squirmed, letting out a heavy pant when the end of the toy pressed flush with his cheeks. It was then that he was ready to be cleaned out. I stood back to admire my handiwork. It was always a deeply satisfying and gratifying feeling to have a boy stark bollock naked in your shower, toy plugging him up awaiting some rough, dirty treatment whilst I stood still fully clothed and bulging in my boxers, standing over him. It was how every slave should be for their master; naked and willing, ass up and ready without any hesitation.

"I'm gonna switch the water on," I said calmly in a levelled tone. I wasn't going to leave any room for him to negotiate, or to bite back. Again, dealing with a slave is like dealing with a child, it's the same stubborn mentality that'll rebel against things they don't want or like. It's not about that. It's about what you want and about what they will want to give you. Sooner or later it'll be one ad the same, "You let me know if it's too hot, okay?" Safety first of course, but I had no intention of setting it to a high temperature. I was gonna leave it as cold as possible without him noticing, so that he'd get used to rough and unfair conditions. Slaves have to earn the luxury of warm water.

"What's gonna happen?" He slurred over his shoulder, looking back warily as I reached for the shower's faucet handle. It seemed his mind was now clearing of the drunken fog that had led him to this dark decision. It mattered little. He'd learn to enjoy it, as most boys do. The first time is always the hardest, so I just had to make sure I set a precedent for him so he'd take that as the norm. No pansy, mollycoddling bullshit for him.

"You're gonna feel like you want to go real bad, but don't go until I give you permission." It was firm. No rhetoric this time. I didn't want him to get the impression that he had a say in this. He understood quite well what I meant, so he just bowed his head as I flicked my paw, spinning the water on.

You could hear the clunk of pipes as the shower turned on, then the sound of running water rushing through the coiled metal tube. I loved to watch this moment, as it was rare that I usually performed enemas on my boys unless it was their first few times, when the water hits their systems and starts filling their guts. Especially on their first go, when all the sensations are alien and new, you could pretty much identify the exact point where it begins to wash in, where the whole body jumps and lurches, ass clenching down hard and cheeks bouncing around. It was as if I'd just electrocuted him or something, though there would be time for that further down the line when he's more obedient and experienced.

Tom gave off a struggling groan. What I hadn't told him was that it would be uncomfortable. Sure, the sensation of wanting to take a dump was easy to see, but have you ever tried holding back the urge to go? It just builds and builds until you're either dangerously close to the edge or feeling bloated and unpleasantly full. It's awful, when you really think about it. I could just imagine it now, all that cold water churning inside little Tommy's slender body, the flow pushing and working its way into his bowels, filling out every nook and cranny until it could only surge deeper, worming into the start of his intestines. He probably wanted to push the toy out quite badly by now, probably wanted the flow to stop, but I held my paw firm against the dildo when I saw that his hole was bearing down on it, trying to push it out. I gave his rump a swat, quite sharply with my full palm so it'd leave a stinging red imprint on his pale cheeks,

"Naughty," I scolded him, "What did I tell you about not going? For that you get an extra few seconds." I was timing it, in my head, how long I ought to leave the shower going in him, and I wasn't going to tell him I'd remove it at the right time anyway, but I had to assert dominance. I had to discipline him for disobeying me.

"Please sir..." That pitiful whine was to die for, so cute and desperate, touched with a humiliated note to it, "Please stop, I want to let it out now please."

"You can say please all you want, boy, it won't make any difference." He whimpered, defeated, but he didn't try to sway me again. Though he didn't beg, he certainly wanted to make it clear he wasn't at all happy about what we were doing, "I really need to go..."

His pleas fell on deaf ears. I counted down in my head, noting when I ought to stop the water flow; didn't want to fill him up too much or I'd just undo all the work I was putting in.

"I need to pull the head out now." Confident, commanding sentences that gave no room to move; Tommy was sensing my mood at this point, as his demeanour was changing. Still tipsy, but beginning to grasp that maybe he'd tumbled into something more serious than he was expecting. Not that I'd keep him here against his will, but he was getting the idea into his head that this was real and it was going to happen.

"Yes sir." Good boy, getting his titles in there. That was commendable, more so considering I hadn't had to remind him up until now. I got a firm hold of the base, tugging lightly at the toy to test just how badly his not-so-virgin-anymore hole was latching onto it. He gave an unhappy grunt, but I ignored much like the rest of his whines, and so I gripped the base with a firmer paw, the other bracing against his delicious rump as it began to pull back.

"Now lad," I said, getting his attention with a twist of the dildo, "When I pull this out, I want you to hold the water in." What sounded next could probably be the most indignant, bitchiest whine I'd ever heard,

"But why?" He drawled, his voice trailing into sobbing the syllables. I wouldn't stand for it. I gave him a painful, hard smack to his ass, enough to leave a stinging pink outline of my paw on his tender, pale rump. God he looked so fucking good as he began to angrily redden, growing darker by the second. He let loose a strangled yelp of pain,

"Bitch, do as you're told!" I snarled, perhaps a little too aggressively. He seemed too quiet after that, which told me I'd maybe gone too far too soon and scared him. I didn't want to rape him, but fuck we were teetering close to that, "Look, just... do it because I want you to do it. You want to make me happy, don't you? You want to please me, right?" He gave him a silent nod, eyes a little teary, so I had to put in tactics to soften the scene, "Call me, Daddy, okay boy? Let me take care of you, so long as you will do everything you can to pleasure and please me, alright?"

"Yes Daddy."

"Good boy." Right, back to the task at hand, "Now make sure you keep the water in and only let go when I say."

I pulled back, steadily but measuredly, as I watched the toy retract from his hole. The rim gripped it like a vice, plucked outwards as the toy left his ass; but I was insistent, and gradually the dildo slid back from inside him, right until the bulbous head was left inside him. I made sure he was ready, stopping for a moment so he'd cotton on and realise the sucker was about to pop out, before finally letting his rim push the thing out as it would for any foreign intrusion. A tiny trickle of browned water spat out, but true to his word the boy did as he was told. He grunted, obviously not accustomed to having to keep his hole clenched so tightly when he felt so full, but was an obedient little pet, doing as Daddy said.

"Good boy..." I repeated, voice a soft whisper in his ear. I gave his cheek a gentle pat, encouraging him to carry on, whilst I sat back onto the toilet seat, giving the water some time to work its magic within him. It was a strain on him, I could tell, as within a few mere seconds he was already beginning to make squeaks and tiny moans of discomfort, cramps most likely setting in beyond his gut as he carried a greater load than it was supposed to. I said nothing, curious to see what he would do given that he'd had no experience or training besides what we were doing now. If he folded early, then he was going to be more work than someone already adjusted to being a slave. If he didn't, then he was a keeper.

It was after about a minute of solid quiet before he finally opened his trap to bitch,

"Daddy, please can I let go now?" He shifted about in the bath, ass quivering as he held himself back from exploding, "Please Daddy, it hurts. I want to let go."

"No." He didn't like me saying that, letting off this petulant whine. I smacked his rump, which made a small trickle of water escape his hole. I growled in a menacing low note, his face going pale,

"Sorry Daddy." I would have to punish him. I can't let a boy get away with slipping up and making mistakes, no matter how small. But there was little I could do to him in his situation that wouldn't end badly. A trained boy would be able to take a thrashing and still hold his constitution, but him I feared would literally crap himself the moment I took off my belt. I still had to discipline him somehow, speaking out of turn like that and then disobeying my orders.

"You will be," I announced, folding my arms as I straightened up. It pushed my gut out against my shirt, my bulge nicely hidden from his view so that he wouldn't know how much I enjoyed watching him struggle and squirm, "I want you to start jumping up and down, and do some jogging on the spot."

"But Daddy... why?"

"Because I said so, that's why." He flinched when I snapped at him, which didn't bother me in the slightest. I wasn't there to be his cuddly lover. If he was gonna compromise at the dad-boy level then I was gonna uphold my end to the fullest, no half-measures with me, "Go on, get to it or I'll rip your ass in two."

That seemed to spur him into action. Gingerly he righted himself, his body shaking with mild tremors, until he was standing up; he was moving slowly, understandable for a boy in his situation, gut full of way too much water. I raised an eyebrow, expectant for him to start up soon before I had to haul his ass across my knee and spank him until he shit himself. It wouldn't be pretty, but fuck it, I wanted to shape the boy up into something special and if he was gonna fight me then so be it, I wouldn't go down without a fight of my own. He whimpered only slightly before, finally, he started to do little hops. It was nothing spectacular, something a ten year old would probably put to shame, but he was getting bolder and trying his best to please me. As he got used to what had to be frankly alien sensations cramping up his guts, heavy water sloshing up and down as his body lurched, he jumped slightly higher, with more enthusiasm, and slowly shifted to jogging, though really he looked as if he might as well be a geriatric in a boy's body. But... credit where credit is due, after all. He tried.

I wasn't going to let him get off that easy though. He'd disrespected me and despite how much I might appreciate the effort, he needed to endure. Slow as he was, he began to move in a way I'd at least judge to be something akin to more of a powerwalk, albeit a little more animated, but it was good enough. I couldn't expect too much from a novice. I just wanted to establish the fact that I was in charge, that I wasn't be questioned or denied, always obeyed. Even if he moved on to other men, I was certain I would leave him with the correct behaviours and respect for superior males - amongst other things. I'd probably also leave him with a hollowed out ass and easily stretched hole to accommodate any man who wishes to unload in him. But we were getting to that.

"Alright, that's enough boy." He stopped, but waited. He was learning to follow commands, to wait for new orders, his only wish was to obey. I might have misjudged this one, "Present me your hole."

He turned around and stooped over, not without letting out a little whimper as something must have cramped within him. Under normal circumstances, I would have spanked him across the cheeks and ordered him to do two more minutes of jogging, but I had to accept this was his first time after all. Tiny exceptions - and I stress the _tiny_part - could be made. If he made a noise again without my permission, I would have to put him in his place, though I suspected I wouldn't have to. We shall have to see.

"Hold your cheeks apart for me boy and squat a little, at the knees. That's right." He moved into position obediently, fingernails digging into his smooth, bare flesh, his digits pulling back the two soft globes of his rear to reveal his hole. He'd shown commendable determination in keeping in the water, which was by now, I assumed, murky and dank with his gut's produce. He continued to show the aptitude for restraint, even as maybe the smallest of trickles dripped from his rim. I wouldn't scold him for that, there was no point. I was about to give the order anyway and being particularly cruel now would serve no purpose. He just wouldn't understand the meaning behind the lesson of discipline. "Okay, on the count of three, I want you to let go and allow the water out, alright boy?"

He nodded, but verbal communication was key. I had to drill it into him that I needed a response from every question and command, otherwise we might overstep a boundary we should never have crossed at that point and from their it would just get hairy. I reached up and squeezed his balls, eliciting a shrill gasp from him of pain, careful not to crush his pathetic sack in my palm,

"Alright boy?" I emphasised the words distinctly, making sure he understood that I wanted him to reply. He spoke all too quickly, hurriedly and panting,

"Yes sir!" Oh! He had switched back to 'sir' without me needing to request it from him. That was _very_promising. I had expected I'd have to graduate up to it after perhaps a second or third session, if things progressed well. By the looks of things, we might not only get some more time together, but I might actually have a chance to push him limits, introduce him to the wonders of pain and pleasure, and of making sure he can adjust and suit whatever master or dominant requires of him.

"Alright: one, two, three..." I took a step back, making sure to elongate each word as I said it. It was just like training any pet really, only you had to be more patient. Individuals, unlike docile animals with little sentience, were always indignant and reluctant to hand over control to someone else, to submit. It always required extra elbow grease and intensive work, but the result was always the same. But now came the part no gay male ever truly liked - or indeed any person who dealt with anal ever liked. I stood back as I watched the stream of brown rushing water stream from the boy's hole, his face clenched in a painful strain as I could see his rim push out desperately. He was anxious to relieve his bowels, the sensation must have been so exquisite, as all that heavy, sloshing water, mixed into a peculiar paste with whatever excrement there was, emptying out all in one gushing motion. Suffice to say, I myself would never witness such a feeling as I would never dare to let anything near my own rear, but I was well versed with other subs and bottoms who've tried to convey the sensation to me as best they can. I'll admit, I was envious, but at the same time repulsed. It was an inescapable necessity though, the better of two evils. In any situation like this, I was more than happy to buck up and just accept the gruesome nature of it rather than shy away and risk getting my cock filthy. I did so enjoy entering a boy naked, without the need of a condom so he could feel my flesh pumping with blood against his inner walls, so that I could breed him deep, hard, and long, well into the night until he was overflowing with my seed. But I didn't want to even see a smear against my member, or else there'd be hell to pay.

By the time he was finished, his whole body was covered in that delectable shine of sweat, just faint enough to give him a tender glow but nothing to suggest he was truly exerted. But as was the problem with enemas, you always had to ensure you'd done a good enough job to move on to the main event, so I was expecting his whine of unhappiness as I plugged his hole again and repeated the whole routine. I smacked his cheeks extra hard for each protest I got, making sure he knew damn well who was in charge. I was sure by the time he was letting loose the second flood of much cleaner water that any rebellion or retaliation from him was since quashed and obliterated into nothingness. Refusing the men he clearly wanted to serve, though he didn't know it yet, was not an option. Not anymore.

We retired to the bedroom, me leading his naked form from the bathroom to the bed and climbing up myself. He did not follow, looking somewhat bashful and shamed as he stood there, nude and violated, myself still clothed and now reclining on the bed. Clearly he was at a loss as what to do.

"Come here, boy, come lie next to master."

I watched the fleeting semblance of resistance flash behind his eyes. I guess this would be the make or break moment; I'd already cleaned out his hole, taught him some manners, put him through his paces and made his cheeks smart with reddened flourishes, but now came the ultimate question. Would he give himself over entirely, climb up next to me, and finally hand himself over entirely to me?

Sure enough, I wasn't disappointed. Gingerly, much like you'd expect a cat to prowl, he climbed up onto the bed - it was larger than the regular human sorts, as obviously I'd had to request a booking specifically for a variant in advance. God he looked so adorable and perfect, with such supple, soft peachy skin and a heady flush to his cheeks, as he crawled up to me. He nestled into the crook of my arm, head placed just upon the apex of my bicep, just a small reach away from what had to be quite a ripened pit. That was the complications of being a furry in a world so used to humans, products just couldn't cut it. Everything had to be bought at its strongest - and I'm talking industrial strength. I bet he could have smelt me back at the bar, despite all the other sweaty and boozed up guys there were, I bet he could pick out my musk from across the room. Maybe that's why he caved in to my requests, that he followed me like a little lamb back with me. Boys were such suggestible things when choked up on the stench of a superior male. It makes them all weak in the knees and eager to please.

He looked nervous though. I suppose even with all the alcohol, with my authority, and with his balls pumping testosterone through his system, there was just that smidge of panic. Even if he wanted it, and I was one hundred percent convinced that he did, there would always be that small hurdle of fear that just couldn't quite be overcome so easily. Personal resistance was one thing, instinctual apprehension was another. I would just have to provide him with the necessary push - or rather shove, as I'm sure the case would be - to send him teetering over the edge into his new life as a pussy boy, a little slut for all men to use. I had my arm wrapped around him possessively. It was always a good reassurance to them to know that there was someone in control, warm and tender so long as they behaved. I made sure to keep my paw firmly planted against his taut cheeks, softly squeezing the abundant flesh beneath them. I swear, he was leaning into my grasp. He was such a naughty cock-tease, begging for it but forcing me to go slow. God, I'd do such nasty things to him once I had him trained. Unspeakable, dirty things that would have made him queasy just thinking about it now, but down the line I'd have him begging for that too, wholeheartedly and without question. His cock was softening up, but his erection wasn't entirely lost. He was still dripping with pre, clearly needing some release. One of his hands found its way onto my chest, stroking across the curve of my gut. I wonder if he was just feeling for the flesh and fur beneath, meeting nothing but a strong belly of muscle and fat, or if he was unconsciously beginning to gather the understanding that he was to please me any way he could, to worship my body as his source of pleasure. By making me, or anyone else for that matter, happy, he would make himself happy.

But still he quivered, though he could have played it off as the cold from having emptied his bowels in a sterile shower, I could deduce easily that he was hesitant of what was about to come. I couldn't prepare him anymore. I'd done all that I could and eased him into it as best as I was able. Now it would be down to him and his determination to either see his transformation through or to give up and lose his chance of becoming something better than just a dumb-ass jock.

"Undress me, boy." I kept my gaze fixed on him, as he looked up from my shoulder. Quietly, he set to work, shifting up from his position so that he sat upon his hips, legs still trailed out down alongside my own. His hands went up to my collar, undoing the buttons down in order, one by one, slowly and meticulously. He could have been delaying for time or just savouring the moment. I really couldn't care. As my shirt opened up to reveal the thick pelt of my chest, rich brown fur near black in the dimmed light, bursting between his fingers he broke eye contact. His expression was anxious, excited, and fervent with need and worry, as he plucked out the hem of my shirt from out of my waistband. He revealed my naked form to his timid gaze as now his fingers lingered near my fly. He could have been stalling for time, but whether he went at my pace or his own, he wasn't going to dissuade or evade the inevitable. He could linger all he wanted to. Slowly, he pulled down the zipper, just an ounce of trepidation and anticipation to his movements. I was sure he didn't know what to expect, held back by a cocktail of fear and excitement. He could either be surprised but scared, astonished if I turned out to be bigger than he'd expected knowing though it would tear him a new one, or disappointed but relieved, as I'd be smaller and therefore easier on his rear. I let myself grin when he wasn't looking, his eyes trained on my crotch as my bulge swelled. Only I knew what would happen next.

As the zip reached the bottom, the last of its teeth flicking apart, I let myself surge forward. It was perhaps a rather redundant gesture, but it meant my nice swell pushed up into the boy's waiting hand as he brushed over it. I heard the gasp, sharp and tight, as he was beginning to finally understand what he was getting in to. Naturally though that sweet, hot moment was soured by the fact that I had to wiggle and kick my way out of my trousers, leaving me in just a pair of sweaty briefs, but I couldn't care. I had a succulent piece of meat by my side, ready to go down on my prick with a juicy ass just waiting to be ripped apart.

"Get me out, slave. Hold my cock."

He gave me only a precursory glance, something of an acknowledgement I supposed, but I could see the blank amazement in his eyes. I'd seen the look before, in plenty of men, not just young lads. People would be startled like a deer in the headlights when they realised how big I might just be. Sometimes, if they were an experienced size queen, that initial expression would melt in euphoric happiness as they'd landed themselves a jackpot, but often some men just bit off more than they could chew. Maybe Tommy here was one of those, but we'd come too far for him to back out now. There was no choice but to press forward, like breaching ice sheets in northern oceans. It was impossible to turn around.

His fingers dug against my hip, plucking out the waistband to my underwear. I lifted my hips once more, to give him the chance to pull my briefs down, and smiled again as I felt his breathing hitch just slightly. It was always a thrill to hear their reactions; the younger and less practiced the boys were, the sweeter the sounds they made as they revealed myself to them for the first time. I felt my hard dick swing free as the briefs came away, already having been nursing a semi for too long now. I'd wanted to just tear off our clothes and mount him as soon as I met him in the club. Resisting for so long now, even as we'd set foot in the hotel room, had been a massive feat of willpower on my part. Now as we edged closer to the moment I actually could feel myself throb deep within him I could only feel my arousal intensify.

Wrapping his hand around my member, he weighed me up. He wouldn't know the specifics, but I knew my measurements off by heart: just shy of eleven inches in length, but I was tipping over eight inches for girth. I'd spread any man wide apart so much so they wouldn't sit right for a week. Some guys could hit long and hard, tapping some deep inner point in their bottoms, but for me, I was a stretcher. I broke whoever I fucked, without a doubt. I'd take them to a whole new level of open that I might just very well ruin them for anybody coming after me they happened to present their asses for. I'm talking the sausage-down-a-hallway cliché here.

"Jesus fucking..." He trailed off, and for good reason. I gave myself a flex, letting my cock pulse in his hand, a drop of pre oozing from the tip and dribbling down the mighty shaft. I didn't feel like telling him off for speaking out of turn. After all, it was technically a form of praise, and I'm all for a boy worshipping me and my body. I'd much rather he planted his mouth over my cock rather than remarking on its size, but whatever. I'd gotten used to being endowed with a dark, ebony monster that would rise up like a slumbering giant whenever I got turned on, but for anyone seeing it for themselves, I knew it could be a shock.

"Suck it." I waited, claws gently stroking idle circles on his shoulder. I figured a mere command would have sufficed, but he hesitated. The reluctance was returning now he knew what he was up against. We couldn't be having disobedience now, not at this stage, "Suck. It." Each word I punctuated with a snarl, moving my paw from his shoulder and grabbing the back of the boy's head. I pushed him down, feeling his body give just a tiny fight back, but there was barely anything to it. The slave wanted to go down on me, that was clear, he was just afraid. He was afraid of giving in and submitting, of handing himself over to me, to let me reshape his body and mould him into something perfect for a man like myself. He'd serve my every need. I let out a solid, long hiss of bliss as I felt those cock-sucking lips, plump and tender, kiss my tip and then part, mouth sliding down over the first few inches of my cock.

God, he felt so good, that warm, suckling mouth just working over my shaft. I pushed him further down, not letting him stop until I was satisfied he was actually going to put some effort into it and at least try to take me all. I had an inkling he wouldn't be able to, not on his first try, especially for someone having no experience deep-throating at all, but we'd see how things go. For now, he'd take as much as I could make him and open him up some, working my shaft into his waiting mouth. His jaw stretched as best it could around my girth, swallowing every inch it could. He was rather good, actually. He seemed to have a natural talent for it, something that would come in handy later down the line. If he was gonna become something worth using, I'd need to not only work on his width but also his depth, as I had plenty of friends who could make my dick look a little stumpy in comparison, even if they lacked the thickness.

He gave a little choke, just a gag to show we were going further than he was comfortable with, but I held him there and fought back against him trying to pull off. The noises he made were horrid, but just like the enema it was all part of the job. He had to learn who was in control, who called the shots. His frail body did his best to break free from my grasp, his hands clawing along my thighs and gut as he feebly resisted, head twisting as bile rose in his throat and bubbled around my cock. There was a hint of fear, his instinct to fight back evident, but he was also showing great restraint. He was trying to do as he was told, to behave, to allow me to do what I wished, it was just slow going. But whilst it was glorious to feel his mouth convulse and slurp frantically over my member, I had to let him breath; I relinquished my grip from the back of his head and allowed him to pull off - not entirely mind, as we had to keep at this, but enough. His rasping gasps for breath, swallowing and wiping away the spittle with the back of his hand, was cute. I couldn't wait until the day where he'd take me all with ease, squirm beneath my body as I plugged his throat with my meat. Fucking hell, I'd found a good one here.

We went at it again, me shuffling up a little on the bed, holding his head to my crotch, him writhing as he once more was made to take more cock than he could handle. I should have recorded this, he would have loved to see himself get broken on film I bet. I certainly would have loved to have watched from a different angle. I could only imagine how it looked with his face smothered under my gut, dick throbbing in his mouth as I painted his cheeks in pre, his smooth, pale body shuddering as I used him like a sleeve. I wrapped my legs around his back, pushing him down and close to me, letting him burrow in my sweat and heat. Even I could smell my musk. It was ripe even here, after a long enough day and a hot night of clubbing, for him it must have been unbearable - or enjoyable. His cock was rock hard, even throughout all the abuse. I was really onto a winner. To find a boy who was already hard as he was humiliated and used like this from the first session was a rarity. Usually they'd go limp halfway through, which is to be expected from someone not familiar with everything, but my pet here was dribbling all over the sheets as he choked into my crotch, my balls drenched in his drool, my cock dripping with saliva. His mouth was so tight around my member, if I could I would have just shoved in deep and hard and not given a thought to his comfort, but I didn't want to cause him any lasting harm. That would be counter-productive. I slowly gyrated my hips forward though, holding the boy's head in place as I slid my cock in and out of him, letting those wet lips and wiggling tongue slather over my dick, eliciting such strained groans from below me. With a few sessions, I bet I could have him fucking his head onto my crotch, but for now I'd have to do most of the work. It was so warm though... god, I wanted to choke him on my seed so badly, but I was saving the first load for his ass. It was always the biggest, the hardest. I wanted to make sure he knew just who was breeding him. I was getting so close in his mouth though, all I wanted to do was savour the sight of him buried between my legs, his sweet, cute little eyes gazing up at me, caught between begging for mercy and wanting more and more.

I had to pull him off me though, letting him go. He wheezed and spluttered as he recuperated, taking in such deep, long breaths. His chin was covered in vile spittle, not entirely the pretty picture, but he had a haze of lust behind his eyes, a leering grin on his chops, and a ragged eagerness to his breath, that kind of overall appearance of a randy beast just looking to get its rocks off. Not that he would, not tonight, well... maybe, if I felt generous enough and he'd done well, but we'll see.

"On all fours boy, face the foot of the bed. Stick that ass in the air for me."

I gave him the chance to get into position, crawling away from the nook between my legs and performing a one-eighty around. Meanwhile I got to my knees, feeling the mattress dip beneath my legs as my weight pressed down upon it. I could feel my cock bounce and slap up against the curve of my abdomen, my gut matted with pre and spit. It felt good. Every pulse of blood into my meat giving me this surge of power; I'd missed having a slave like this, who was so talented and skilled that he didn't just satisfy my needs, but he indulged in my want for power and authority, who showed such promise that I couldn't wait to start really teaching him how to behave or how to take a dick like an expert. I watched him lower his chest to the bed, hands braced just against the board at the bottom of the bed, ass lifted up just as I'd asked. He'd since dried from his little 'shower' and now I could see his tender hole just waiting for me. His nerves made it almost pulse, his muscles clenching and unclenching, as he waited for me to make the next move. He was probably looking for the familiar feel of lube, or maybe he feared the feel of my sodden cock pressed up against him. I didn't have any lube to hand though, so he'd have to make do with what I could improvise from. Besides, any slave of mine should be able to take me near enough dry, at least with a bit of spit and a warm-up. It wasn't too much to ask. But we weren't anywhere near that, not yet.

Shuffling forwards on my knees, I took a hold of his waist and drew our bodies together. My cock brushed up against his inner thigh, sliding along his pathetic excuse for a pair of balls and that stump of a prick he calls his penis. I must have made him feel so small and so emasculated whilst my monster sized up to him. He must have only been a few inches, maybe just shy of the national average, whatever that was these days for humans. Nothing compared to mine. It gave me a twinge of pride to know he'd never threaten me or try to square off against me - in fact, now that I think about it, he'd be the perfect size for a nice cage to lock him away. I loved my slaves to be chaste. My pleasure came first.

I pulled my cock back though. I'm not gonna waste my time comparing dicks. My black length pressed between his cheeks and I slid back and forth slowly, squeezing my boy's flesh against my own. He moaned softly as he felt my heat radiate against his hole, my pre and his spit wiped against his bared ass. I just moved back and forth against his pucker, grinding away as I teased him, working myself up to the main event. My gut pressed up against the small of his back; I was convinced he could feel my weight pushing against his hips, making sure he was well aware just exactly who and what would be reaming him in a few short seconds.

"Beg for me, slave. Beg for my cock."

"Please sir!" His response was immediate, earnest and whimpering, "Please sir, fuck me. Please give me your cock. I need you inside me." His whole body was quivering with desire, his gaze clouded with need. I could almost hear the submission in his voice if I wasn't so consumed with wondering how his hole would feel wrapped tightly around my dick.

"That's it, slave, take it."

Pushing forwards, there was of course the initial resistance. His body wasn't going to let me in if it had a say in anything. But it didn't. It never did. So I pushed harder, claws digging into his supple body as I pulled him to me. He gave out this pained groan as muscles gave way to hardened cock, as he was made to accommodate something far too big than he was used to. I guessed he might have played around with a finger or two up there, maybe a small dildo if he was adventurous, but I doubt he would have gone through with things - probably even gave up once the discomfort and pain set in from being too eager. But I was in charge here, so this was happening. I could feel the rim push back against me, my head slowly but surely sinking in. When it finally happened, when that last ounce of resistance finally slipped up and gave way, I almost didn't realise it. But sure enough, with a loud, sharp squeal from my slave, my head lurched inside. I let out a long, happy sigh as I felt his hole convulse around my cock, his natural reaction to push me out, but I wasn't going anywhere. If anything, with the first inch already sitting inside him, all I had to do was keep my weight pressed forward and the rest would follow. My shaft began to disappear into warm pink flesh, the ebony of my length eaten up by his rim. I was greeted with hot, velvety depths of his insides. It was a dream come true, to feel the tightness of a boy never spoiled by another man being ruined by myself.

My slave gave a hungry moan, a fevered whimper just tailing on the end of it. His body was glowing with a glisten of sweat as he was worked over, but that just added to the moment. It was such a delight to see him struggle to take me, to beg and moan as I entered him. I refused to stop until my fat balls were dwarfing his own, my wet crotch flush with his cleft of his cheeks. I wanted to be as deep as I could in him, to remind him who owned his hole now, that no other man could satisfy him.

"It's... too... big..." The boy whined, agony tinging his tone, panic rising in the back of his throat. He was afraid, that was okay, but we could make it fit. He would obey. I smacked his ass and paused my push inside and holding my member where it was. Already the angry red flared up on his cheeks,

"Quiet, slave. Just relax that hole." I barked my orders, not giving him the chance to protest. I was already just up to two thirds, I'd have him all in just a few moments more, and all I needed was a bit of cooperation from him. I needed him to be a good boy and to let me in. He wanted me inside him. All boys like him do.

I gave a harder shove forwards, opting for the sudden effect of taking him by surprise. He let out a yelp, as I expected, but the result was exactly what I'd hoped for. In one fell swoop, I was buried deep inside him, hilted right up to the balls, and I growled in giddy joy. My muscled stomach pressed against his back as I leaned over him, moving my knees to the outside of his legs so that I was hunched over his shivering body. He let out such cute whimpers, caught somewhere between distress and pleasure as he couldn't comprehend what was happening. I just stayed still, allowing him the small chance to adjust as best he could, but I wouldn't wait forever,

"That's it, feel me inside you," I pushed my crotch forwards, a tiny movement that must have resonated within him, as it did for me, "That's eleven fat inches of bear meat right up your hole." I rolled my hips back and forth, working maybe just a small part of myself in and out of that tight pucker, "Remember how it feels, huh? Remember that feeling of me deep inside you. Any other man and you'll know it'll never be enough." I pulled a little more and slammed back inside, "Only my cock will be enough to satisfy you. Only_I_ can make you feel this way. This glorious, indulgent, euphoric way..."

He just moaned in response, something unintelligible, but it didn't matter. I knew he understood well enough. He was convinced that no other male would ever satisfy him like I could as I began to fuck his hole. I wanted to do it doggy-style, it seemed simple enough and he'd get the grasp of things quickly - plus it was just easier if I wanted to really buck into his ass. I grabbed hold on his forearms, leaning my weight forwards, so that I could pin him down as I stuffed him. God it felt amazing, a warm tunnel of hot flesh enveloping my cock, his strength waning and allowing me to ride him harder and faster. I would pull back as much as I dared before I slammed back in. Of course I wouldn't be so brutal as to break him, but I had my aims and I was sure I was going to reach them. He just whimpered and panted as I fucked him, letting me rail him hard and long. My body hung over his, pushing down on him, surrounding him with everything that I could. Probably when he'd met me he thought I was fat, that I wasn't worth the effort or I wouldn't even be good for a one night stand. I bet he was reconsidering that all now, as I reworked his guts into the perfect sleeve for my cock. He was smoothing out now, his tightness loosening up until it was a sloppy cunt for me to breed. He was so sweet against me, shivering and bucking back against me. He wanted this, he so wanted this. He was even trying to reach back to stroke himself off, but I couldn't have that. We had a long night ahead of us, and I couldn't do with him losing steam halfway through the first fuck. The first fuck was always the best, but the second, third, maybe even the worth and the morning seconds? Those were always just as sensational. He might not agree though, but he'd come back for more.

He'd wound me up too much though. Normally I might have lasted an hour or so for the first round, but my anticipation for a virgin hole, from such an idyllic boy, might have sparked me too much. I could feel the urge burning just in my abdomen, but I resisted as long as I could. I just ramped up the pace, slamming my dark cock into his clean, ruined hole. My balls would slap against his own, just adding to the lewd noises that filled the hotel room, amongst the other sounds of wet slurps of my cock creaming his hole, my grunts snapping out over his soft, squeaking moans and whines. His body was giving in to me, his mind melting away as I worked myself to an orgasm.

"Please," he panted, desperate and whimpering, "Please let me cum, please sir."

"No." He didn't need an explanation; I just kept my voice steady and firm, deep and aggressive. He didn't dare protest back. I wouldn't have, if I were him, he was a good boy. I just rammed hard home, feeling the edge coming up fast. He didn't need the warning, he didn't deserve one, not after trying to usurp my orders, but I never let my slave's now when it was coming. They should learn to know the signs, learn to be ready, always ready to take my seed.

On instinct, I bit down hard on his shoulder, a little too much as the taste of metal bloomed on my tongue, but the boy didn't say a word. He just gasped and choked on a sob. I'd have to let him cum at least some at point tonight for that. That was commendable right there. But I had more pressing matters at the moment. I crammed as much of my cock in into his wrecked hole, snarling into my slave's shoulder as I finally erupted into his guts. I grunted on each spurt, hot jizz rushing into my boy's ass, filling him up. He let out a strangled sigh as he felt me cum inside him, a good few quarts of seed just flooding into his hole. Wetness splattered against my crotch as it must have backed up, soaking my groin in my own juices. I didn't care. I'd have him clean me up with that perfect mouth of his and nurse me back to hardness for a second go at his hole. When I finally felt myself letting the last dregs drip into his ass, I pulled back, unlocking my jaw from around his nape and letting his arms go. He must have been exhausted, as he just slouched there, breathing heavily, as I too caught my breath. Sure enough, there was a little blood from his shoulder where puncture marks lay in tiny pin pricks. He'd heal in a day or two, no true damage.

I sat back on my haunches, paw pressed against the small of his back as I eased my cock back. Black meat painted in white spooge emerged from a sloppy reddened hole, the rim engorged and ruined as my fat member final exited his ass. A river of cum followed soon after, his body unable to just hold it in. That was a bad move, as any slave of mine will hold whatever loads I feed to him, but I'd cut him some slack. Maybe I'd punish him in other ways, maybe edge him into oblivion for that single climax he'll get tonight, but whatever. Our first round was over, leaving him a tired, weak mess and myself spent for half an hour perhaps, depending on how well he could get me going again. With his body though and that hole just begging to be filled again, I doubted it would be that long.

However I needed to piss, the urge creeping up on me but now demanding it be relieved. I could just take the short walk to the ensuite, but I wanted to see how good my boy could do with watersports.

"Come here, slave. Come clean my dick." I watched him lift himself up back onto all fours, fatigue etched into his face, but a clear desire to please me. He took a hold of my dick, the erection waning to just the flop equivalent to a semi, and he began to lap up the remains of my load, gulping down the salty jizz like a good boy. He opened his plump mouth and sealed his lips around my head, bobbing down the length; I took a hold of his head as he began to reach my crotch and kept my grip on him firm, my gaze stern, "Now drink me boy." I guess we were about to find out just how well he'd deal with piss.