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If someone had asked me my plans for the weekend when I woke up Friday morning, I probably would have told them I'd be spending it studying, maybe go out to a movie or something. Heading to the bar at all was something I did on an impulse out of boredom. An hour ago I still figured I'd be going home alone. Twenty minutes ago, I was on my knees in a public alley, in front of a wolf I'd just met, with his hands pulling on my ears while he fucked my muzzle and forced me to suck and lick until I couldn't even breathe. Now I'm standing in an unfamiliar basement, the fur on my face sticky and matted with dried spunk and a thick leather collar locked tightly around my neck, and I'm trying to figure out why.

There's no denying that Connor is hot. The wolf is tall, his arms and chest are packed with muscle under his greyish brown fur, and my mind keeps on going back to his cock, almost a full foot long with a knot thicker than I could close my hand around. It's not something that's easy to forget, especially when you've felt it poking the back of your throat while it crushed down your tongue with your jaws straining around its girth. But it isn't just the wolf's cock that I'm focused on. I keep on thinking about the way he smells, the smug self-confidence, the aggressive gleam in his eyes and the contemptuous way he wiped his dripping dick off on my face while I was gasping for air in front of him.

I've been with dominant guys before, and I'm honest enough to admit that being commanded and pushed around gets me hard, but this guy? This guy is a real Alpha, and the fact that I'm standing in his basement has me squirming with an unfamiliar mix of arousal, shame and anxiety. He hasn't told me why he brought me here, hasn't said anything at all on the drive from the bar, and every time I worked up the nerve to ask, I couldn't actually bring myself to say the words out loud. And after he brought me downstairs, leading me through a hallway that was almost disconcertingly normal, he just... left. Part of me wants to storm upstairs and find him, make him take the collar off my neck and stop acting like he can just... take me wherever he wants like he goddamn owns me. But another part of me...

My eyes and nose drift around the wolf's basement. Unlike the alley with its gloomy shadows, unlike my confusion and my arousal, it's something simple and distinct. It's not a very big room, but there are a couple of closed doors that could have anything behind them, and it's only partially finished. The floor is just concrete, though there's a rolled up mat in one corner, and while the walls are painted they're still a dull grey and there aren't any windows.

There isn't much furniture either: an old and scuffed couch and a TV, a few shelves and cabinets, and a weight bench shoved up against the wall to keep it from filling the rest of the floor. The basement is dry and warm, and the cement and couch have trapped the smells of leather and wolf sweat so that they're strong enough to tickle my nostrils. At the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs behind me, I turn around with my ears and tail low, nervousness quashing the internal argument between staying and running. Whatever opportunity I had to walk away from this, it's over now.

On the plus side, I know what Connor was doing upstairs now. The shirt and jeans he wore to the bar are gone. Instead, he's dressed in a pair of black leather chaps that are gloriously open around his groin, revealing the thick sheath and heavy sac that my face was being rammed into not so long ago. My eyes want to linger there, but they're drawn up as if by magnets. When he was wearing a shirt, I thought could see the muscles underneath it, but now that it's off... The fur on the wolf's chest is lighter than the rest of it, and shorter too, trimmed down so that the lines of his abs and pecs are sharp and hard. Waiting in the basement and fidgeting in the back of his truck put a dent in the arousal I felt in the alleyway, but now it's coming back as hard as ever, and I can feel my jeans getting tight all over again, my dick poking out of my sheath into the wet spot in where my boxers are still damp with pre. Finally, nervously since I remember his hands grabbing my ears and his cock hammering into me when I tried to meet his eyes before, I raise my gaze to his face.

He's still wearing the same cocky, not quite grin on his muzzle that he had in the alleyway, and as I meet his golden eyes he raises one of his eyebrows. That's all, and it's enough to make me smile back sheepishly and lower my eyes and squeeze my tail between my legs. Maybe the collar is cutting off circulation to my brain, I think. Otherwise I'm having a hard time explaining to myself how this guy can dominate me with a look while my erection tries to push its way through my pants.

"Take off your clothes." Connor says, and my face heats up more. The wolf's voice is deep, and even though it isn't loud it's got a sort of growl to it that I think would probably get me hard even if I wasn't staring at his chest. His tone doesn't make it a question, and at this point I'm too horny and nervous to argue, but looking at the wolf's body makes me self-conscious about my own. I start by fumbling with my pants, my fingers shaking a little as I unzip my jeans and squirm my way out of them. It takes me a few moments to decide whether to take off my shirt or underwear next, and as much for comfort as any other reason I pull down my boxers. The bulge was already pretty obvious to begin with, but when my erection springs into view, glistening with pre and with my knot already a little swollen, I feel a lot more exposed.

Too embarrassed now to meet his eyes or even look at his expression, I pull off my shirt, which catches on the collar so that I have to struggle out of it. Standing naked in front of Connor, my arms feel skinny and I wish I could suck in my stomach, which is soft under my thick fur and feels downright pudgy when I'm looking at the wolf's chiselled body. My dick isn't something I'm used to feeling self-conscious over, but compared to the wolf's twelve inch manhood it's not exactly something to brag about either, however eager it is for Connor's attention.

"Bring them to me." the wolf growls, and the commanding tone gets me to stop pretending that I find the cement floor between my paws interesting. I'm still anxious as I gather up my clothes and walk over to him, but I do force myself to look at him as I do so. His grin isn't at all subtle now, and to my shock his tail, which stayed still the entire time I was sucking his cock, is wagging lazily back and forth. The visible sign of happiness is such a surprise to me that my own tail starts to uncurl and I risk catching his eye again. His eyes are practically glowing with what could be amusement or could be anticipation, and I lower my own as I meekly hand him the bundle of fabric.

I'm not sure what I expect him to do with them, or even that my brain is working well enough for me to expect anything at this point. One thing I don't expect him to do is walk past me and toss my shirt and boxers into a trashcan over by the couch. When he does it, I'm left with such a combination of disbelief and confusion that my body more or less forgets to protest. Given that the fur on my face is still sticky with his cum and my erection is dripping on his floor, I probably look completely ridiculous, but that doesn't really register either. Instead I'm staring wordlessly while I watch him take my cell phone and wallet out of my jeans before they join the rest of my stuff in the trash. The wolf obviously knows what he's doing, and he doesn't hesitate at all. He takes the battery out of my phone and puts both into a drawer in one of the cabinets. My wallet follows, but not until he's removed the forty dollars or so that I had in there. The money, my money, he puts on one of the shelves, from which he pulls down a black duffel bag that he tosses onto the couch with a thump. He's busy fishing through it when reflex pushes my stunned mind out of the way and makes me speak.

"That doesn't belong to..." I sputter weakly, my voice somewhere barely audible and it sounds pathetic even to me, especially since I don't even manage to finish the sentence. For a couple of seconds it's like he didn't even hear me, and at this point what he just did is dawning on me enough for fear and indignation to start to overcome my humiliation, so I actually take a step toward him and my voice gets a little bit steadier and louder. "You can't just take my..."

I trail off as he straightens back up and turns around to face me, and once again my ears flatten submissively. He doesn't need to say anything, he doesn't need to growl or raise his hackles, his scent and posture alone are enough to make me shut my mouth. He walks over to me slowly, and by the time he's standing in front of me I wish I could sink into the floor. My mouth feels dry as he steps close enough for his musky scent to fill my nostrils, and I flinch when his hand grips me firmly beneath my chin. With the same casual strength that impressed me earlier in the alley, he tilts my head up so that our noses are almost touching, squeezing hard enough for it to hurt a little as his eyes glare into mine. I want to glare back and I want to look away at the same time, but with his fingers digging into my muzzle I'm forced to meet his stare, and a sense of shame seeps through me when I realize that I'm whimpering, and that my eyes practically watering.

"Don't tell me what to do." He growls at me, close enough for his breath to be hot against my face and for my view to be full of his fangs when he curls back his lip. Shivering in his grip, I manage to nod nervously, and almost sag with relief when his growl subsides and he lets go. I hear something click, and as he lets me step back my eyes are drawn down toward my neck and the collar pressing down my fur. Clipped around the D-ring is a leash, exactly like the kind they sell in the pet store. I'm already blushing pretty hard under my fur, but it doesn't help that the damn thing has a pattern of little red paws on it.

A light tug on the other end yanks me a step forward and takes my mind off what the leash looks like, and back to the powerful wolf standing in front of me.

"When I say 'Kneel', get on your knees and put your hands behind your back. You don't stand until I tell you to; you don't sit down until I tell you to. You can look wherever you want, but you keep your gaze below my shoulders."

It is, by far, the longest sentence he's said since he sat down next to me back at the bar, and that surprises me enough that it's not until few seconds later that what he said dawns on me. When he actually does say "Kneel" a few seconds later, the word comes out in a bark, deep and loud and making my ears flick at the tone of command that fills it. In my rush to obey I almost stumble, but in a couple of seconds I'm on my knees on the cement with my nervous hands clasped behind my back, looking at Connor's cock. It hasn't come far out of its sheath yet, but even the tip of it is big enough to get my attention, and kneeling in front of it is bringing back memories that are still fresh enough to clump my fur together. I wonder if he wants me to suck him off a second time, and my erection stiffens at the combination of nervous eagerness that accompanies that thought.

I probably shouldn't be dripping pre at the memory of choking on Connor's dick, but the fact that I want to do it again is probably the least of my worries at this point.

"When I tell you to "Lick", you lick whatever I put in front of you, and you keep on licking it until I take it away or I tell you to stop."

I nod before I realize that he wasn't exactly asking, and I'm already bracing myself to feel his manhood in my muzzle again when he puts one of his hands in front of me and issues the order that I was expecting. This time my confusion makes me hesitate too long, and at Connor's growl I can't stop myself from looking up at him. I know it's a mistake the moment my eyes meet his, and my ears are already flattening when his hand slaps me across the muzzle, hard. Pain shoots through my face, and I close my eyes and yelp, almost falling back until he yanks on the leash and the leather collar clenches around my neck, cutting off my breath entirely just as I try to inhale. Without much difficulty the wolf forces me back upright into the position he wants, and as the collar loosens and my cheek throbs I gasp for breath and whimper, managing to remember to keep my hands behind me instead of reaching up to massage the spot where he hit me.

I don't have any idea where I am or what time it is, except that it has to be at least one o'clock in the morning. I'm on my knees in a strange wolf's basement, and I have no idea where exactly that basement is. I'm naked because he threw out my clothes and took my money and phone, and I've got a locked collar around my neck and my face is sticky from cum and he just slapped me. And on top of all of that I'm about as fucking aroused as I've ever been in my life. My mind sorts through all of that over the course of a couple seconds, leaving me no less confused and conflicted than before, and before I can figure out what to do about it he puts the hand he just slapped me with back in front of my watering eyes and loudly and clearly orders me to "Lick."

So I do.

This isn't something that I ever thought I'd be doing, and I'm not really sure how to do it. Connor's got big hands, but they're clean and don't really smell like anything except wolf. He just keeps his palm in front of my muzzle, and I sweep my tongue over the short fur and rough pads, hoping like hell that he's not going to smack me again. On the edge of my vision I can see that his tail is wagging earnestly behind him and his erection is growing, so I guess I must be doing what he wants; and my own erection is leaving a puddle of pre on his floor, so I guess I'm doing what my body wants too. There shouldn't be anything erotic about what he's making me do, but maybe what's turning me on is the fact that he's making me do it, and the stinging pain on my muzzle is reminded me what he could do to me if I don't. After a couple of minutes, my anxious tension is relaxing enough for my tail to creep out from between my legs, and when one of Connor's hands comes down to scratch the fur behind my ear, I barely even flinch, and I don't stop licking at all.

The wolf grunts at that, sounding dominant but pleased, but that only gets my tail going faster. And the scratching does feel good, surprisingly gentle and affectionate and hard to reconcile with my sore muzzle and the way he grabbed my ears. I know better than to think he's going to keep it up for long, and when his hand flattens and pushes my head down, the thought of resisting doesn't cross my mind at all. Awkwardly, because I don't really know what he wants from me, I end up sort of laying on my belly on the floor, the cement cold against my fur, while he stands above me and I resist the temptation to look up to see what he's doing. He lets me squirm there for a couple of seconds, and then he's shoving one of his paws in my face and I hear him growl out the same command.

"Lick."

This is a lot worse than Connor's hand was. The smell, even from a distance, is almost enough to make my eyes water, and the reek of dirty fur as I press my nose into his paw and tentatively brush my tongue against it makes me want to gag. I can taste the stinking boot leather his foot has been marinating in all day, and his fur is matted with sweat. His collar is digging into my neck, the leash barely long enough now that I'm on my belly, and above me I hear a low, rumbling growl that makes me whimper and start to lick harder and faster, swamping my tongue with the taste. Connor's growl subsides, and I shiver with a combination of relief and humiliation as my tongue presses between his toes, lapping up his sweat and rubbing against the short, smooth fur. He makes me keep at it for a while, until I've licked between all of his toes and have started sweeping my tongue over the top of his paw again, and then he yanks hard on the leash, cutting off my breath and wrenching my mouth away from his foot.

Coughing, I scramble back upright, remembering at the last moment that I'm supposed to stay on my knees until he tells me to get up and half falling back onto them. Belatedly, I put my hands behind my back again, and I keep my eyes on the wolf's paws and legs. Connor scratches me between the ears again, and I shudder at how good it makes me feel, even though my neck hurts as much as my cheek does now, and I can still taste and smell paw sweat so powerfully that if I closed my eyes I'd think I was still sniffing them. Even the concrete I'm kneeling on is uncomfortable, but for some reason, the fear I felt earlier is almost gone now.

It doesn't take very long to come back, because as soon as I've managed to stop shifting my legs, Connor is turning around, and his wagging tail is brushing against my muzzle, tickling my whiskers and making me grin despite myself at how much the wolf's body is advertising his enjoyment. My smile disappears pretty fast though, because the next thing Connor does is grab his tail and lift it up, leaving me staring at his ass. It looks just as good as the rest of him, but given what I've just been doing to the rest of him, it isn't very hard to figure out what he's about to say.

"Lick." Connor growls, and he doesn't bother to hide the mocking tone from his voice.

Connor's ass tastes... better than his paw did, and the fact that he's clean comes as an enormous relief as my tongue pushes up his crack and leaves his short fur damp and slick. There's a lot of musk and sweat, but by now I can't really get that smell off of my nose anyway, and the taste of paw is still rank enough to overpower the milder sweat between his cheeks. I put my hands on the wolf's hips to keep my balance as he takes a half step back, pushing against my muzzle and encouraging me to lick harder and faster, not that I need much encouragement at this point.

My tongue brushes over the tight pucker, but I'm hesitant about doing anything else there, so instead I squirm closer and lower so that I can just barely reach my tongue far enough to press against his balls, my nose squeezed hard against Connor's rear so that every time I inhale the musk seems to physically fill my lungs. He's got a good-sized sac, and feeling him tense as my tongue pushes it forward makes my own arousal almost unbearable. My tail is swishing back and forth again, even if my face is hot enough from blushing that my fur probably looks pink instead of white. Licking the ass of a guy who I barely know, just because he told me too, probably should embarrass me, but what really concerns me is that I didn't hesitate at all when he gave me the command. Not because I was scared he might hurt me, but just because I wanted to obey him, even when he's telling me to do... this...

But those thoughts are all pretty distant from the reality in front of me, and from the mild irritation I can hear and feel through Connor's body when he growls lightly. Shivering, I lift my head back up to the wolf's ass, and to the furless ring that's still damp from my tongue sweeping over it. This time I do hesitate, because I'm more than a little worried about what'll happen if I don't. Connor's growl doesn't get any louder or more menacing, and it really doesn't need to, but he does pull on the leash enough to drag my face into his ass and to dig my collar into my neck. He lets up a little when I start to lick the tight hole, tracing its outline with my tongue and trying to convince myself that it doesn't taste any different than the rest of him. Shuddering and repressing a whimper, I push harder, and I feel Connor twitch hard as the tip of my tongue pokes inside him.

Now I wish I was still licking his paws. I close my eyes and keep on going anyway, moving my tongue around a little and holding my breath. Connor grunts and squirms into me, and I can feel his muscles tightening around my tongue, his damp, sweaty ass pushing against my muzzle, and I whimper into him when I realize this isn't going to be enough. I have to breathe eventually, and when I do, the best that I can say about the smell is that it isn't as horrible as I worried it would be. The taste isn't what I was afraid it would be either, and so embarrassment rather than disgust makes my tail and ears sag.

What's far, far worse than the taste is that my embarrassment isn't all from having my tongue in Connor's ass. Part of it is from the thought that I might have disappointed him by hesitating, by not trusting him to be clean enough for me. It seems insane to think that I have any reason to trust him at all, but I strain to push my tongue further anyway, and I'm rewarded when he lets go of his tail and it sweeps across my face, tickling my ears and making me grin stupidly while I sniff his ass and slide my tongue around inside of him. He doesn't keep me at it long, just lets his tail slap against my face as it wags and then slackens his grip on the leash and tells me to stop. My tongue feels strange as I slide it out of his pucker, and I'm breathing hard and sweating, almost lightheaded at the thought of what I'm doing. I keep my head enough to avoid looking at his face when he turns around, and I blush with pride as he reaches down and pets my fur, stroking around my ears and scratching behind them.

"Well done." he growls, sounding more satisfied than impressed, but as his fingers toy with my fur I notice that his erection is thick and hard now, lifting between his legs just as impressively as it did back in the alleyway. Looking at it in the light of the basement, I have a hard time believing he managed to fit it into my muzzle. I can't believe how much I want him to do it again. I'm still waiting, half expecting him to tell me to do exactly that as he stops petting me and takes a step back. Instead, the leash tightens the collar around my neck as Connor starts for the nearest door, and I'm dragged behind him gagging and pawing at my neck, scrambling to my paws to avoid being pulled over. The room he pulls me into is dark, and all I can make out is the vague outline of a bed and some dark shapes along the wall. Panting behind him, I stumble to a stop and I wonder if this counts as telling me to stop kneeling. I'm halfway to the floor before he grabs me by the shoulders and hurls me onto the bed, where I land with a yelp. The bed sheets must be black, because I can't see them, but the silky warmth of the fabric and the strong scent of wolf make the room feel intimidating and comforting at the same time. Shivering as the two impressions fighting in my head, I look over my shoulder anxiously.

He's at one of the dark shapes that could be a table, or could be anything else, and his eyes are smug and hard in the dark, glinting from the lights in the next room. A sense of nervousness and embarrassment seeps through me until I almost feel like I'm going to throw up when it dawns on me that I've met his eyes again, and I whimper and turn away as he starts toward the bed, cringing like some kind of child and wondering what the fuck has come over me. I flinch when he climbs onto the bed and looms over me, and I shiver when his strong hand takes a hold of my side. Not daring to resist, I let him coax me onto my belly, and then up onto my hands and knees, my fingers squishing into the soft mattress. I can feel the heat of him over me, and smell the musk of his body, and when he growls into my ear I close my eyes and whine.

"You're a Bad Dog." Connor's voice tells me. "You're out of shape and you don't know how to obey..." His hand is exploring my body, rubbing down my side across underdeveloped muscles and a stomach that's soft and squishy instead of hard and firm like his. It pauses on my rear, squeezing through the fur and exploring beneath my tail. His legs press against mine, covered with smooth and warm leather that feels amazing against my fur. "You don't even know how to show respect..."

I whine again as he cups his hand around my balls, making me suck in a deep breath as he gently fondles them. I know I'm dripping pre onto the sheets, and I'm surprised I'm not drooling too. Every time Connor breathes, the warm air tickles my ears, and I can feel his muscles hard against my back as he straddles me, feel his thick cock pressing against my thigh and leaving a slick trail of pre as he moves it against my fur. It's incredible how much I want it in me. My bushy tail is wagging against his arm now, but he doesn't seem to mind, he just ignores it like it isn't even there.

"You don't know what you are." Connor growls, and as his hand lifts from my balls, I hear a squirting sound, and feel something cool and slippery and wet press up under my tail and circle my hole, making me gasp and shudder. "But I can show you," he says, and the complete certainty in his voice is worse than any sort of anger or gloating could possibly be. "And I will." I barely hear him. Connor's not being any gentler than he has been all night, and his claw digs in a bit as he rubs around my ass, slathering my fur with lube as his cock rubs against my thigh.

Then his finger pushes harder, and I bite back a yelp as the thick digit slides inside of me, trying to relax as his finger plunges into me. Like most canines, the claws on his fingers are blunt and fairly short, but Connor isn't trying to be careful and the stinging sensation makes me shudder. He wiggles it around a bit, enough to make me groan quietly and tighten my fingers around the soft bed sheets, and then he slides it out and I hear him squirt out more lube onto his palm. The slippery stuff feels cold as he pushes more into my ass, but his finger slides in easily this time, and I barely wince as he slides a second one in alongside it, even though the initial stinging has given way to a dull throbbing. It still feels pretty good when he moves his fingers again, massaging the lube deeper and making my cock twitch eagerly. I'm almost regretful when he tugs them out, almost, but he doesn't give me a chance to think about it before he's shoving his slippery fingers in front of my nose.

The lube can't have much too it except for water, because I can barely smell it. I wish that it was scented though, because even though my musky scent is strong enough to mask the smell of Connor's fur, it isn't strong enough to cover up the more sulphurous stench clinging to his fingers. My mouth feels dry and my tail sweeps between my legs even before Connor says anything. I already know what he's going to say, and it makes me want to throw up. It makes me wish that I was still licking his paws.

"Lick."

My tongue is out of my mouth before my horror can stop it, and my eyes clench shut as it laps away some of the slippery slime from his soft fur. The taste isn't much worse than the smell, but I shudder anyway. Actually, my sweaty musk is pretty much all that I can taste, but the knowledge of where that taste came from makes me sag underneath Connor's warm weight. I don't think that I've ever felt any dirtier or more pathetic. I don't think I've ever felt more embarrassed about being aroused. And I know for sure that I've never heard Connor laugh before, a throaty chuckle that makes me whine and cringe as I clean the filthy lube off of his fingers. He doesn't let me stop until his hands are only damp with saliva, which he wipes off casually on my shoulder as he climbs off of me and reaches for a bedside table.

"Open your mouth," he tells me, and as I do he slides something into my muzzle, thick and squishy and pressing down my tongue as I cough and recoil away from it. This time at least, he doesn't bother chastising me, he just grabs the scruff of my neck and shoves my head down, choking me as the squishy, slippery gag pokes against my throat. The leather straps on either side of it dig into my cheeks as he tightens is roughly, and as my drool drips onto the bed sheets I fight back the urge to gag and try to explore the thing with my trapped tongue. It isn't so much a ball gag as a fat rubber cylinder, wide enough for my teeth to squish into it as I try to close my muzzle around it. My eyes are watering as Connor finishes adjusting the strap, and I have to breathe through my nose as my mouth flexes. The bitter, rubbery taste is enough to tell me it's new, but right now I don't feel like complaining about the taste of rubber. Actually, I realize as Connor lets go of my neck, right now I probably couldn't complain about anything at all...

I wince again at the way he tugs my tail away from my ass, but it's not until the dripping tip of his cock is actually pushing up between my legs that I start to sweat and shake. The massive gag that's got me drooling on the bed brings back fresh memories of just how enormous Connor's erection actually is, and while I've got toys at home that are almost that large, they don't have knots the size of a fucking baseball. I also use a lot more lube than Connor did, and my ears strain for the sound of him squirting more onto his dick as he teases my slippery hole and growls at the way I shudder. I don't hear it. His fingers close around my scruff again, pushing up under the tight leather collar I've been wearing since the alleyway and gathering up the loose skin underneath my fur in a tight grip. His other hand wraps around the base of my tail, pressing it firmly against my back as it flicks around submissively. I couldn't stop it from doing that even if I wanted to, no more than I could stop the squeaky, muffled-sounding whimpers I make as he shifts his weight behind me.

His finger stung. This hurts. I feel like my eyes are bulging out of my head as the head of his dick spreads me open, driving into me and making my toes curl and my eyes water even more. I'm almost glad for the gag now, because I can't keep my teeth from clenching shut, and the soft rubber squishes underneath them and keeps me from biting my tongue as stinging pain and unbearable fullness throb though my hips and thighs. He takes his time as I quiver and my muscles clench around him, moving a bit on the bed and tightening his grip on my neck a little before he slides in deeper. It's not that bad now that he's already inside me, but I still want to curse and cry by the time his knot presses gently against my stretched hole. I've never felt anything so big before, and I'm almost absurdly grateful that he doesn't try to force the knot in too. Instead, he growls and his hips quiver a bit as he pulls back.

I suck in another breath through my nose as his cock plunges back into me, quicker this time, now that he knows that I can take it, and I bite back a growl of frustrated pain. I nearly fall onto my stomach this time, my arms and legs quivering, but his grip on my neck and tail keep me right where he wants me. Instead, I just shudder and try to relax as his dick impales me over and over again, practically chewing on the rubber gag as each thrust makes me bite down on it again. My eager breaths fill my nostrils with the musky scent of his bed, and my head is overwhelmed from everything that's happened tonight. His cock feels surprisingly warm inside of me, and if the pain and stretching aren't pleasant, I don't quite want him to stop either. Growling like he knows exactly what I'm thinking, he yanks on my tail hard enough to make me yelp. But the pain makes my asshole clench around him too, and I nearly shoot my cum all over his sheets right then and there.

Up until now, I've been doing a pretty good job of breathing in time with his thrusts, but that painful, incredible tug makes me choke and exhale, and he never gives me a chance to catch my breath, ramming himself into me harder and faster and digging his claws into my tail, letting out a dominant, animal snarl when I try to move and practically dragging me back onto his cock. He doesn't need to hold onto my scruff, not when my tail is throbbing and I'm too busy snorting for air to fight back, and his other hand wanders under my body, teasing my nipples with his claws just enough to hurt. That makes me squeeze around him too, and I feel him shudder at the same time as his growl deepens.

His approval makes my whole body flush with shame, but I start to push back into his thrusts, earning a throaty moan. My head is swimming now, my body tingling with lack of air as much as pleasure or pain, and I'm pretty sure that his grip on my tail is the only thing that's holding me up when he finishes inside of me. The only warning I have is his growl weakening until he sounds almost as breathless as I am. Then he's grabbing me by the shoulders and practically ramming my face down into the sheets, grabbing my collar and twisting it until the leather digs into my throat and I start to thrash around underneath him, gagging and whining. He doesn't pay any attention, and I might as well be struggling against steel wire for all my struggling loosens his grip. Over my shoulder I catch a glimpse of his expression, his muzzle curled back and his teeth gleaming, his eyes shut and his muscular form twitching in the shadow as his cock keeps on slamming into me.

I'm seeing stars, and I'm leaking tears onto my cum-stained cheeks as my body sags weakly, limbs quivering as I cough helplessly. Fighting back feels like too much of an effort, all I can hear is his panting breath and my heart's rapid throbbing. His thrusts are finally slowing down now though, and as his green-gold eyes open and stare down at me, watching me twitch and shiver for a long couple of seconds before he lets go of the collar and I suck in air desperately. My throat and lungs are burning worse than my ass now, but I still clench my teeth as his dick pulls out of my hole, leaving me sore and empty and leaking his cum onto the bed sheets as he casually wipes his cock off on my sagging tail.

It doesn't even occur to me that Connor still might want me to stay still, and as he lets go of me my body flops down onto the bed as if he pushed it there. I'm still aroused, and that makes me feel even more confused and ashamed as the wolf's fingers gently stroke the fur between my ears. It felt good when he petted me before, and it still feels good... but blushing at a gentle touch when you're dripping cum and dazed from being choked by a brutal stranger feels ridiculous. I still feel disappointed when he stops, even though his fingers barely pause before they unhook the gag and lets the floppy rubber tube down onto the bed between my arms. I work my jaws a few times as he pulls me onto my knees... but compared to my ass and my throat, they barely ache at all. Then his hand wraps around my dripping cock, and I forget all about the pain and humiliation.

"It isn't too late to go." Connor's voice growls in my ear, as his rough hand slowly moves up the length of my shaft, teasing my knot and hovering over the quivering head of my cock. "You can get up right now and walk out that door. This can be nothing but a memory, something to fantasize about as you go around pretending to be a man." The fingers curl around the head of my dick and squeeze slightly, and I almost lose it right then and there, but he loosens his grip before I can jerk my hips forward, and I quiver as those claws run down the length of my cock again.

"Or you can stay here. I know an animal when I see one, and that's what you are boy, an animal... oh you're good at pretending, you might even have convinced yourself..." the hand closes again, pumping slowly and agonizingly lightly. "But you haven't fooled me." His hand is stroking faster now, and harder, and sweat is trickling through my fur. "I'll take your freedom boy. I'll take your dignity. I'll take everything from you... and I'll give you discipline. I'll give you purpose. I'll give you real freedom, the freedom to be the mindless, obedient, horny little animal you've always been inside."

My eyes are closed, and even Connor's masculine scent is fading in my mind now, nothing left but his voice and my arousal... the strong hand pumping my dick and the warm pre dripping over the wolf's fingers.

"It won't be easy, I won't be gentle. I'll hurt you and I'll break you... and I'll enjoy doing it. But you will be an animal. My animal. My pet and slave... for as long as I want..."

His hand stops, and when I open my eyes his face is there in front of me, handsome and cruel, his eyes hungry, and his teeth gleaming in what could almost be a smile. My own eyes are still wet and teary, my throat is raw and my ass is still twitching with the agonizing memory of his cock. I can see the outline of the door behind him, a dimly lit promise of freedom, of escape, of my entire life up until I met Connor less than two hours ago. The collar seems to tighten around my throat as I swallow, and my cock leaks even more pre as I look from the door to the wolf. I know that he means every word that he just said. I know, even without him saying it aloud, that this is the last chance he's going to give me. I know that I should be running for my life.

And as his fingers start to rub the head of my dick again, I know that I'm not going to.

"Good Dog."