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He had been waiting for nearly forty minutes now, knelt obediently before the front door, head bowed as he gazed deeply into the woodwork of the floorboards. Assuming the position he'd been commanded to take whenever at rest, the small mouse had a moment to just reflect on his situation, reeling back to the events that led him here.

Despite knowing what he ought to expect, Alex kept returning to the gym where the men used him and abused him to their hearts' desire. Though he knew each time he walked through those doors, gym bag slung over one shoulder if only to keep up appearances, that he would leave battered and broken, cum sitting in his stomach and dribbling down the inside of his pant leg, he still kept going back. He had wondered back then, when he finally got home and slumped in the shower to clean himself off if he was suffering an addiction, if what he was doing was even sensible and sane, but still he found himself the next day doing the same thing all over again. It became a routine of work, eat, gym, sleep and then repeat, like there was nothing else for him to do. It had begun to get to a point where he was earning a name for himself. Alex, the little mouse slut, the slutty whore who'd do anything you wanted him to, was becoming the main attraction in the locker rooms. Sometimes Alex had even thought half the men there were solely visiting for him. He swore he'd overheard some of the regulars whispering about posting details of his 'services' online and essentially renting him out for plenty to use. It was getting to a point where Alex wasn't even being allowed a moment's rest between men; as one cock left his lips, dribbling cum, another was placed at his gasping muzzle, and likewise when one member bred his hole, it was swiftly replaced by either a rasping tongue lapping up whatever loads leaked from him or another needy cock was shoved hard into him. The epitome of it all was when a whole football team were showering and changing in the locker rooms and saw him, bent over against one of the benches getting ridden hard by some stranger. They'd all taken one look, cycled through the motions of wondering whether this was okay, whether they ought to or not or if they'd be gay for doing anything, then reconciling to themselves that fucking one faggot in lieu of not getting enough from their girlfriends was just a natural urge that needed to be sated. It had taken hours before they'd all had their fill, leaving him stretched, exhausted, sore and dripping in musky, thick spunk from all sorts of virile males.

That was when Rock introduced himself.

He had merely been working out, an encounter of happenstance as the wolf's usual hang had been hired out to private vendors to use the floor space and facilities. The odds of them meeting beyond it seemed almost unreal, Alex perhaps being nothing but a thought to the athlete before the two met one another as the mouse recovered, slumped in the showers, with the big wolf squatting over him like a disgraced beast. If there could have been a more humiliating first impression that Alex could have made, it didn't come to him. It still haunted him to this day, especially considering it had been in that moment that had led him to kneeling now before the door as he waited for Rock to come home.

The wolf had made a preposition on that day as he'd sat on his haunches over the ruined rodent that he could provide a far worse yet immensely satisfying place than this, curled up with spunk dripping from either hole, coating his fur with the scents of many men emanating off of him. It seemed inconceivable at the time, but Alex was intrigued. It offered the reward and the punishment wrapped up in one neat little package, something Rock didn't attempt to try and disguise from him. He'd have a more gratifying time but it obviously came with its prices that he had to pay. But what could have been worse than being at the mercy of an entire sports team full of rampant, pent-up males?

Apparently the answer to that question was Rock Markenson.

The arrangement was Alex was to train to become one of Rock's many boys, a single male from several who had been taught and prepared to accept whatever Rock doled out unto them. According to the wolf, this wasn't simply an easy process through which Alex could just adapt his current behaviour to fit the new routine. No, it was something far more pervasive and demanding than what Alex had imagined. The first few days had been rough, the wolf forcing him to spend nights in a cage in the basement, the level of contact between the two of them kept to an absolute minimum. Though it was cruel, to treat Alex like nothing more than an inconvenient object around the house, to only be fed and watered once or twice a day before allowing him to relieve himself outside on the lawn for all the neighbours to see, it cemented the foundations for what was necessary if the mouse was to accept his new position and role in Rock's life. He had to understand wholeheartedly without hesitation that he was inferior to the wolf. He belonged beneath the heel of his boots, if anywhere at all.

The rules had been laid out rather plainly at first. Rock didn't want to overload the mouse so soon into training, but groundwork had to be done. Alex was not to speak unless spoken to, to refer to him as 'Sir' at all times, and was never to make eye contact or any kind of unnecessary movements other than those Rock commanded. He was to be naked about the household without question, and was to be prepared to do anything that was ordered of him, regardless of what it might have been. The first day or two when Rock had finally actually acknowledged Alex's existence beyond that of the basement-dweller status he'd imposed, he had had the mouse perform mundane tasks with their own savage twist to ensure the message of subservience and uselessness was not lost on him; an early start had brought Alex a pair of steel capped boots to polish, albeit with nothing but his tongue and later in the day he'd been told to soak all of Rock's laundry before putting it in to wash, this including every single piece of underwear and every individual sock. To soak them, Rock had commanded that Alex stuff them deep in his muzzle until he gagged and choked on the dry, sweaty fabric, rough against his mouth, until they were wet with his spittle and bile. Alex remembered for hours afterwards he could taste nothing but rank cloth and musk upon his cheeks, his mouth raw until the moment he'd finally fallen asleep in the cage Rock had acquiesced for him.

Life had frankly been pitiful for the small rodent. So far there had been nary a positive experience to be had. The wolf had held off on anything remotely sexual for what seemed near enough a week now, leaving Alex to feel pent up and frustrated, but denied any sense of respite from his torture. He knew the wolf was watching; small cameras he hadn't noticed for the first few days slowly made themselves known to him when Rock would come back with cryptic remarks that somehow implied he knew what the mouse was up to in his absent hours. It was horrifically intrusive for Alex, knowing he was being recorded at every waking minute at the wolf's discretion, but yet there was nothing to be done. He had agreed, after all, for all of this. His position was sealed.

It must have been fifteen minutes more until he finally heard the roar of a car's engine turn down the lane and eventually pull into the drive. The singular sound brought Alex such a disturbed feeling of sweet relief and happiness that he just couldn't explain. Part of him was supremely giddy, elated that Sir was finally home and he could be free from this boredom; eager to serve though he recognised service came with all too high a price he would never be comfortable with. But it was a break from the monotony, a chance to not be alone and to impress the wolf until he could finally reach some level of pride that would reward him with some release. He straightened himself up, actively tried to make himself look more presentable for when the wolf would stride through the door, expecting his slave to be ready and waiting, and kept his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. His ears twitched as he listened for the sounds, the cut of the keys in the ignition, the opening and slam of a car door, the trunk being opened with a breathy swish, only to be shut moments later. Soon followed the sound of gravel on the path, boots Alex could already imagine in his head crunching against tiny stones as the wolf they belonged to sauntered up to his home, heavy stomps upon the steps leading up to the porch. Alex could feel the anticipation gripping his chest like a paw had ensnared his entire torso, squeezing him tightly as he very nearly held his breath, waiting for the clatter and jingle of keys in the lock with the scrape of them turning not far behind. A dark silhouette blotted out the light as something stood before the door, a hazy figure peering in through the glass and most likely seeing the feeble mouse knelt upon the floor, naked and shivering, cock straining between his legs as the excitement got to him.

As the lock gave way and the door opened, Alex found himself falling still. It was like the wolf's presence brought with it an air of calm quiet, that his natural authority just instilled something submissive in the mouse which aligned everything just in the right way. It was difficult to truly comprehend and explain really, as whenever Alex tried to fathom just what it was about it all that made him this way he would struggle to find some coherent answer. Sometimes his mind would turn to the desire to submit and serve, other times it would draw on the conclusion that he just loved to be humiliated and trampled on which got him off, and beyond that if he looked any deeper he became more and more worried with the answer. But no, as Rock stepped before the mouse, only his imposing boots in view, Alex felt all the more at ease, even if it came with the addendums of servitude and discipline.

"Have you been good, my slave?" The question was rhetorical on its face, as Alex was sure by now that Rock was well aware he'd figured out the trick of the surveillance. Even so, it was a question in itself and directed for the rodent to answer, so therefore it warranted one which was both humble and respectful,

"Yes sir, I believe so."

"Only believe?" Rock sounded incredulous. Perhaps that had been the wrong word to use?

"I have been good, sir. As good as I can be." Alex tried to reiterate himself to the proper tone, but it was difficult. Any such phrase out of place and he could be undermining Rock without even realising it. Maybe it was just an excuse for the wolf to put him through his paces on some cheap whim.

"Yes, we'll see." And that was, at least for Alex's part, the end of the conversation. Now he was expected to remain otherwise silent unless directed to speak. Until then, it reverted back to Rock's domain, his home how he liked it with Alex simply there at a luxury, a privilege for the wolf to enjoy, and nothing more. In essence, he was no better than an object, no different to the furniture that surrounded him. He had about as much power and purpose as the side dresser in the hall, the sofas and armchairs, the oven in the kitchen or the bed upstairs. Though he may have a beating heart, a voice to vocalise himself and a mind that mused over everything and anything including this very thought, he was nothing but something to be used without so much as a second thought. Whilst he may be permitted to speak, it was no greater a privilege than a television set having its volume turned up or a coffee table making a clatter as coasters and mugs were set upon it.

Alex kept his gaze fixed to where he believed it ought to be trained, not daring to look anywhere else now in case his master might be displeased with his choice. His mind sharpened to the senses less used than sight or sound; the feel of hard wood digging against his shins and knees, his own saliva swelling in his mouth forcing him to gulp down just to breathe, but it was the smell perhaps that was the most prevalent, beyond anything else. Rock carried in a heavy fog of musk and sweat, natural masculinity that emanated from the pores in his skin, matting down his fur as he'd most likely just come back from working out or returned from the pitch after a game of football. Alex judged it was the latter as there was the faint smell of sodden grass that clung underneath it all. Imperceptible nearly below everything, but if he sniffed just enough he could detect that delicate aroma, not entirely pleasant, that his mind associated with the smells of a freshly mown lawn and mud from rainfall. Rock must have just finished today's match and was now returning, kind enough to have abstained from taking a shower for the mouse's pleasure, and would most likely be looking to make the most of his stench to torment the kneeling male in some fashion. All that was left to question was how would that transpire.

"Follow." The order was barked, not so much as given or directed, but stated rather simply. The wolf knew full well how much control and authority he wielded over the rodent, and Alex knew it just as much. There would be no room for disobedience as Rock led the way, his boots moving from view as they thundered across the hall, moving to the other room. Alex remained upon his paws and knees, getting up with tired, aching muscles to curb himself to the wolf's heels. He wouldn't dare leave a hair's breadth between them in fear he might be scolded for not performing as best as he was able. After all, to the wolf, he had done nothing except menial chores all day and should not really be fatigued. Instead he should be more than eager to greet his master, especially as he returns home.

They moved, with Alex below Rock, to the living room. The afternoon sun was working its way across the rather domesticated setting and basking everything in the dulled glow and lingering heat as the evening set in, and naked to the light Alex could feel the bathe wash across his back as he followed after the wolf. Bare floorboards turned to the respite of carpet as the mouse crawled after his superior, relishing the small appreciation for something softer beneath his paws, though in the back of his mind he knew it was entirely a godsend. Sooner or later, he too would grow just as weary of the carpet as he had the uncomfortable wood as the shag would rub and burn his fur and skin, provided he were to be forced to move unceasingly - something he didn't doubt Rock already had in store. But that was only in the back of his head. He had to keep focused or else he could wind up facing the wolf's wrath for something as trivial as not paying attention. If Alex was to make a mistake and be punished, he would much rather it be for a genuine fault than him just simply being an idiot. Rock headed towards his favourite armchair, one that commanded most of the attention of the room, faced not directly to the television set but enough to the rest of couches and chairs that it was a seat of authority. It was naturally Rock's destination, as he swung around and dropped himself into the chair without so much as care for grace. The plush faux leather that covered the seat was battered and well worn, clearly a favourite of the wolf's, and he seemed to relax into it rather swiftly, leaning back and dumping his bag beside himself. He would have Alex clean up whatever mess, the rodent was sure.

Rock turned his gaze to him, lowered to the floor, and fixed his sights on the mouse's with a sharp keenness,

"Assume the position."

The 'position' was one Alex was familiar with and knew very well. If anything, it was his favourite place to be as it meant he'd be indulged in the things he liked for change, rather than the plethora or far more depraved nightmares the wolf could conjure from the recesses of his imagination. It was simple and enjoyable for Alex. He placed himself to the floor, descending upon his paws and knees until he lay flat upon the ground and rolled onto his back. Shuffling just under the wolf's footpaws, the male ever so kindly lifted up his legs to give Alex room to manoeuvre himself beneath them, taking up the position he was endearingly fond of. Almost as to seal the deal, Rock planted his heavy boots right back down upon the naked rodent's body, uncaring where the dirty soles might fall, letting them drop without any consideration to how hard they might hit. Alex let out a grunt of air as the boots slammed against him in a hit that wasn't quite painful but certainly uncomfortable. He could feel himself getting hard, frustratingly so, as his mind began to race. The feel of that hardened rubber and leather against his fur, the sensation of something alive within them, toes wriggling and tendons moving the ankle and heel, working up against his flesh that could so very easily crush him, pulverise him, and trample him into broken bits and pieces. Many might never understand his compulsions to serve the footpaws of his masters, but whenever he found himself beneath them, Alex's mind would shoot into overdrive and he'd lose himself to the lust.

"Now worship them."

Obediently he set to work. His arms moved from his sides as his paws sought out the prize before him. His fingers stroked along the rough of the leather, feeling its sleek yet rugged texture beneath his fingertips. Brushing and tapping against the laces, the buckles, trailing out to the aglets, Alex was mesmerised by their construct, as if they were precious relics that were to be revered and adored. Beneath their layers, he could feel the weight and strength of Rock, the wolf's footpaws shifting about within the confines of the boots. With rapt attention he treated those boots as if they were revered in his mind, beyond importance and solely existed to be the only thing worth his focus.

But his adoration would not stop at meagrely groping their curves and crevices; his mind was already urging him to go further. An insidious voice whispered to his ear to consume the leather, to taste it upon his tongue, to worship them as if they were the footpaws of gods. Alex whimpered at the thought, but there was something about the suggestion which made sense. It felt right. Whether it was his own idea or not was irrelevant to him as he leant his head forward to kiss the toe of Rock's boots. This was what the wolf wanted, a subservient slave to trample upon, somebody who rather than subject themselves to his torture for his pleasure wanted to be underneath his sole. They weren't there because he asked, but they were there because they wished to be beneath him. Alex's kiss turned more lurid, as if the cork had been burst from the bottle and all of a sudden everything was just pouring out. A day's worth of frustrated service was finally culminating in what Alex had wanted since the moment he'd awoken in the dark and waited for Sir to come collect him for his morning ablutions followed by his contracted duties. As much as he served the wolf, this was perhaps the first reward for long and arduous use.

A kiss turned to lewd making out, as Alex ran his tongue over the bitter, well-worn leather, feeling the skin of the boot and unable to hold back the seeping taste to enter his mouth. As he worked his saliva like polish, shining Rock's footwear until they gleamed in the late afternoon sun as it waned through the windows, the unmistakable acrid flavour coated the very walls of his muzzle until there was little else to taste besides the tart texture of leather, lace, rubber and metal. Much like the smell, nothing was left to the imagination as Alex suckled upon his master's boots, allowing his mind to be flooded with visions of these boots crushing down upon his sternum, winding his gut, pressing hard against his needy crotch.

The thought of it alone made him so desperately hard and he could feel his comparably small member ache with need. He could feel the drool of pre trail across his abdomen as he lapped at the wolf's boots, not even daring to try and touch himself as he paid tribute to the footpaws weighing down against him. He'd spent days willing himself to control his urges, as so far the wolf, whilst commanding chastity, had neglected to put a cage on the rodent. Alex didn't know whether that was intentional or not, if Rock secretly hoped the mouse would misplace his resolve and be caught furiously masturbating over the man's shoes so he could be punished. It may very well be a test, a lesson Rock wanted to teach his new pet if he's to earn himself a place under his heel. Whatever the case may be, Alex could only fathom what awful things may come if he were to begrudge himself a quick orgasm. It wasn't worth the trouble, but the knowledge that he couldn't even though nothing really stopped him other than the watchful gaze of Rock and the wolf's pervasive authority. His house, his rules, or something to that effect, Alex reckoned.

He was losing himself to the lupine's boots now. He'd move from one to the other, only to move back again, finding newer spots still where his tongue had not tread. Every second he spent was in deference to those shoes, working his dextrous tongue into every nook possible. Beyond the leather and foul rubber came fouler tastes of dirt, grit, and goodness knows what else began to bleed through, subtly at first until it was like a rolling tide. Alex was unable to stop it as he continuously had to wet his mouth all the same, his cheeks drying up to the sharp material, feeling utterly humiliated realising that now he's started he couldn't stop. It was such a crippling shame that overcame him. For as much as he liked to be beneath the footpaws of greater, stronger men, there was always something so distressing when his brain began to overthink his position, coming to terms with the fact he was essentially no better than a doormat. He blushed, not out of excitement or wild arousal, but out of a lusting fear and perverted sense of disgrace. Looking up the wolf's legs gave him no reprieve, as Rock just stared back, one paw groping upon his swelling crotch, licking his lips as any predator might. He liked seeing the mouse suffer. He got off seeing the rodent struggle beneath his soles.

"That's right," he said as they made eye contact, "Look at what a filthy slut you are." Alex moaned under his breath, perhaps loud enough that Rock could hear. It was a venting whine from within that he had to let out; all day he'd idealised and fantasised about the moment he'd be under the wolf's boots, as he did every day he'd been here, and still whenever it finally came down to it, Alex couldn't help but let his humiliation and arousal swamp him like a sticky cloud. It was likes beads of sweat in a humid clime, forcing him to struggle and swelter in his own degradation until it consumed him entirely. Not having any sort of sexual touch from Rock only made it worse, as he felt lower than low, not even worthy of being a fuck toy to the wolf. He was just a ragged mouse for him to wipe his footpaws on, to have his boots polished and worked over, nothing more.

"I think those are clean enough now," Rock announced, finally lifting his boots away from the mouse's desperate hold. Like a needy child, Alex found himself clawing to hold on, as if it were a lifeline and he was to be cast adrift without them. But the wolf was firm, and a stolen glare down at the trodden rodent had him quieten down meekly. With one leg crossed over the other at the ankle, Rock began to undo the laces and pulled apart to release his footpaw from within. He stretched out the tongue and scree collar until he could wiggle it out, immediately the fermenting stench of his sweaty footpaws hitting the air like an eruption. Alex smelt it almost as soon as the first boot was tossed aside to the floor, smacking him just upon the side of the head. He flinched away, but tried to hide the motion, knowing Rock would prefer it if the rodent took the beating. The legs were changed over and soon the second boot was coming off, it too thrown to the floor, slamming to Alex's chest and knocking him with a satisfying thump only to bounce off and roll to the side.

With nothing to clad and keep back that musky fog, Rock placed his footpaws back down upon the mouse's body. There was no weight of the boots this time, no crushing sensation against the boy's torso, but Rock had the chance to take a more interactive role with his toy now. Though still in socks, the wolf could freely stretch out his toes beneath the coarse fabric, the garments well-worn and ripe even at a distance. Alex could smell them from where his head lay, looking down at where Rock rested them, and already he could feel his nose peeling away from their aroma. But there wasn't a choice in the matter. As one footpaw moved to prod and stroke against his bared cock, the other was moved towards his head. Almost with a sense of dread as he watched it approach, Alex twitched when he felt the rough sole of Rock's footpaw grind down against what was already incredibly sensitive flesh. He let out a gasp of astonishment as he was finally rewarded with what was arguably the first semblance of any attention he'd gotten in days, whimpering as he felt pre immediately shoot from his tip and soak the sweaty sock. His shock though was his downfall, as his open mouth was an all too easy target for the wolf, who wasted little time in jamming as many toes as he could into Alex's maw. He fitted in about three, big toe included, and the mouse was forced to suckle in defeat upon the wolf's socked footpaw.

The taste was instantaneously rank. There was no escaping it as it filled Alex's mouth and cracked its way through the tamer leather and dirt. His tongue became increasingly dry the more the sock sucked away his spit, until he found he was lapping with thirsty lips on his master's footpaw. The rough thread of the bared sock was near intolerable, but still Alex didn't falter, or he tried his very best at least, though a nauseating sense was coming over him. His only reprieve was perhaps the coarse touch of his master's other footpaw, free to roam about the rest of his body, naturally falling to the mouse's hard shaft. Alex twitched and squirmed as he felt Rock bear down with the weight of his footpaw against the flesh, swirling his toe-tips through the pre and staining the end of his socks in the pursuit of tormenting his bitch. With one footpaw in his muzzle, practically forcing its way down his throat the wider he dared to open his jaw only for Rock to push in further without remorse, and the other stroking over his needy cock, he felt utterly ashamed, yet more turned on than ever. Normal people might despise treatment not even a fraction as revolting as this, but in his position Alex would have shot his load were it not undesired of him. He was at the wolf's mercy, and he knew it was all his own doing. He could be anywhere else right now, if he just chose to keep a handle on himself. But even Alex had to admit, if he wasn't here, he'd just be beneath some other man. His place was to be beneath the footpaws of others.

"I've got a surprise for you, slave."

Alex's eyes flicked up to meet the chirring grin of the wolf, darkness beginning to finally set in as dusk crept upon the evening, the amber glow dissipating to leave them both shrouded in murky grey. Rock blended seamlessly to the shadows, until all that peered through the dark was a sly set of fanged teeth and the beady eyes of a predator. The mouse swallowed as he waited for the wolf to reveal his prize he had, knowing better than to speak up without permission. Single beams of whiter light, perhaps the harsher glimmer of streetlights from the road beyond the window, shone across where they sat. Alex lay there, bathed in a miserable bland dark lightened just barely to see what Rock was reaching for, rummaging through his sports bag. The rough, ruffled sound cut through the air like a knife for the rodent as he listened intently, his brain already working hard to decipher what it might be, and glancing in his periphery he tried to sneak a peek at what the wolf had. But his view was blocked by the male's thick legs, heavy muscle barring the way for him previewing his surprise.

His anticipation was short-lived however. Out of the darkness emerged the shape of boots, smaller than the wolf's previous pair, but something was off. As Alex peered more intently he could make out the shapes of protrusions from the sole, jutting from the heel and toes down to where one might tread. They were studs, pure and simple, and resting one footpaw against the mouse Rock lifted his leg up and cross it over at the knee so he could put the cleats on,

"Now boy, what do we say?" The wolf lowered his footpaws to Alex, not quite digging the studs down into his flesh, but letting their metal caps scrape ever so finely against his skin. There was only one acceptable answer, the rodent knew that much,

"Thank you, sir!" He voice came out higher than he'd intended, his throat catching as he felt the cleats begin to press down firmer into him, but shrill as it might have been it satiated Rock's authority. It even seemed to please the wolf to see his prey so broken and dejected beneath his footpaws that he finally decided to let himself out; a paw moved to his crotch, no longer content to just grope himself through the fabric as he fished for the fly. Unzipping, he wiggled as much as he could within the chair to slide just enough of his pants down to pull out his sheath and balls. He had to put some weight onto the mouse to give himself to angle needed to do so, but that was of no consequence. Alex whined a little at the added pressure, feeling the cleats bearing down into his supple body, but he didn't dare voice his protest aloud. Rock fortunately seemed to lost in the heat of his lust, already working a throbbing cock from soft to hard within a brief few seconds. Gods knows how long he'd been pent up, the mouse wondered, as he could smell the musk now like a vile smog that practically poured down to where he lay on the floor. In the darkness he saw the glint of Rock's cock, dripping pre as he massaged his length, leisurely stroking himself with one paw as he kept his eyes trained on the poor boy. There were no words, not anymore, as the raw command emanated from that dark glare. Alex cowered under it, his paws moving to rub and worship the cleats as they punished him, knowing it was what the wolf ultimately wanted.

One clad footpaw was placed against his cock and balls, hell pressing down against the shaft, whilst the toes were on his sack. Alex could feel the studs bury into his testicles, wincing as the sharp, undulating pain ebbed through him. Though he couldn't reach down to protect himself, not because he had been ordered not to, but because he was pinned beneath the wolf's weight, the other footpaw moving to his neck, pushing lightly against the apple of his throat and holding him there. The choking discomfort kept his body straight to the ground, whilst Rock trampled his cock with an unrelenting pressure, digging those cold studs into his delicate balls and bruising them as if they were nothing more than toys to be played with.

Rock kept eye contact with the mouse as he kicked down hard on them, watching Alex grunt and whimper coldly, his eyes unflinching as the mouse struggled beneath him. He crushed the boy's jewels under his heel as he paid more attention to his sack, still keeping his other footpaw firmly planted to his neck. His body would shake and jolt like it was trying to wrench itself free unconsciously, though to Alex it was something that bordered between hideous pain and welcome pleasure. For every stomp to his testes, he both got the overwhelming savage agony of studs, but then came the thrill of being brutally punished by a merciless man. Alex could feel his dick twitching even as he was trampled, the confliction of sensations not capable of resolving, instead just swirling until he couldn't distinguish between the two and was left to draw from what he could in the discomfort and pain. There was a definite callousness in the movements, like Rock was simply doing what he was for the sake of causing agony for the mouse. Even as Alex looked on his face, there was something etched behind the dead eyes, a certain guarded expression of sadistic satisfaction that he was getting from watching him beneath his boots. He spluttered out what gasps he could whilst his body continued to be beaten underfoot with cutting studs, and still Rock did flinch.

If anything, Alex quickly realised, he too was getting off on the scene. His eyes would catch sight of his paw moving in the dark, jacking off his meat with more vigour now, as he seemed to squeeze and work his flesh, more and more pre oozing from his tip in wet globs only to add to its shine. The knot was swelling up at his base, a fat ball of dark red wolf cock, and Rock was paying close attention to it when he could, groping it with a heavy paw as he gazed at Alex under him. The stench was sweltering in the air now, not just of musk but of stale cum and sweat too, as it became more potent to the point of suffocating. What little breaths Alex could suck in were always tainted and corrupted with the smell, leaving him with the fleeting taste of the wolf in his throat, the only taste he'd ever get for a while. Even though it was practically nothing, just that meagre thought of inhaling the male's stink, no matter where it came from, had been the most cock he'd received for a long time since finding himself beneath the boots of his master.

The cleat on his neck was finally removed, though the other still stood and crushed down on his crotch. Instead Rock moved it upward, pushing the toe of the boot into Alex's mouth roughly, the studs catching and scraping on his teeth as he forced the muzzle open. There was no choice else but to oblige the unspoken command as the mouse accepted the dirty, used tip against his tongue. He could taste the wet mud and mown grass that had clung to what edges there were upon the underside, suckling on the sole he could. It was revolting, the texture wrong with its plastic-leather quality underneath the dampness of the dirt enough to nearly make him gag were it not for the toe already pushing deeper to his maw. He felt his jaw stretch open as it seemed Rock's only intent was to choke him on the cleats, all the while relishing in the feel of the slave's useless balls crushed beneath his footpaw. Alex could only gurgle a whimper around the boot as his cock strained in desperate need for release, while the pain still ruptured through his nuts with each heavy slam of the studs against his tender flesh. Pinned once again, he was frantically bucking and shaking under Rock's power, waiting for some unknown point where he might either be released or relieved. He could only keep his eyes trained on the wolf through the dark, watching his icy stare and leisurely pace as he stroked himself off, quickening and working his grip every now and then in response to the satisfaction Alex could only hope to receive.

But there was a nearly indeterminable hitch in Rock's breathing. Alex might not have seen the rising heaves of the wolf's chest, but he could hear the soft sounds of his panting gasps. It was unmistakable once the rodent knew to listen for it, and if anything it was a sound of relief for him. It meant that he would only have to endure the torture for a little while longer, trusting that Rock wouldn't decide to prolong the ordeal by edging himself. He hoped the wolf would be more impatient to just unload than to sit and enjoy the sight of the mouse underfoot, but Alex couldn't have been sure. All he was to be concerned with however was the boot in his mouth and the other crushing his genitals. The pain, the discomfort, the unbearable aches, it was all he had to focus on and all he was allowed to enjoy. Days of service and this was what he amounted to, nothing indulging his needs, the only thing he seemed to be good for was a mat for the large brute to trample on. And trample he did, even as he seemed to be nearing his climax, he only stamped down harder on the poor mouse. Alex would grunt and groan with more urgent agony as Rock doubled his efforts to punish his slave, his paw blazing over his cock now as he furiously wanked to an orgasm. There were some occasional growls that joined with Alex's sobs of anguish, but they were quieter, much quieter until Rock let out a deafening snarl. His face contorted with the noise, letting his body finally give in to the pleasure as he came. Alex, beneath the wolf's footpaws, felt the weight push down on him harder than ever before as Rock lost all interest in being delicate with his toy, and he all but nearly stood upon his slave as his cock pulsed and throbbed within his paw. In the shadows, Alex could see the sticky ropes of white shoot out, jetting far into the air as Rock aimed forwards, the cum coming to land across his prone torso. He could feel the heat of the wolf's jizz warm his belly as more and more splattered across his gut, pooling at his navel and ever so fleetingly dripping against his cock. It was torturous, being so close to finally getting some sensation down there and all it wound up being was a tiny splash of somebody else's seed. Alex whined desperately but he knew he was getting nothing out of this. He kept his paws obediently stuck to worshipping the wolf's cleats whilst he waited out Rock's orgasm.

There was heavy panting in the wake of the silence, as Rock came down from his climaxed high. Alex watched him manipulate and massage the last dregs of cum out of his tip, the pearly white dots of seed dripping down the underside of his shaft as he made sure to milk what cum he could. There was salivation on the mouse's lips. Already tasting the heady musk of his master, the filth from the bottom of his shoes, and the rank taste of leather coating his cheeks, the prospect of finally sampling the wolf's seed was suddenly the most desirable thing he wanted to. Even just the droplets that remained would be enough to parch his incessant need, just to quieten the screaming voice in his head that fed him the demand of subservience and the urge of authority. He looked to Rock's eyes, which had since looked away after clenching during the crescendo of his orgasm, but the wolf seemed to sense the rodent's needy mood. Casually, his pupils flitted back to stare at Alex, unassuming and very much indifferent, as he seemed to silently weigh up what to have the mouse do next for him. He had already seen the mess he'd made on his slave's stomach, and no doubt would force Alex to leave the cum there to stain and dry his fur so that he stank of his master's mark, but there remained the obvious issue of his spent, soiled cock. There was an abrupt, exasperated sigh,

"Fine; come clean my cock slave. But you may only have ten seconds." As Rock removed the cleats from where they'd rested on Alex's body to allow the mouse to move, he was firm, "Are you listening?!" There was a moment's pause, Alex freezing on the spot as he midway through sitting up, seed running through his short fur and trickling along his sides, across his groin, "Only ten seconds. No more, no less. I want to be spotless."

Alex swallowed a nervous lump that had risen in his throat. This was both a monumental occasion as it was a daunting one. Finally he was getting a chance to actually feel, taste, and worship his master's own cock, not some silicon toy or a cleat, but actually his member. But at the same time, it came with its conditions; it required him to focus on completing the task and with a time limit to boot. And what little time it was, none at all to really savour the moment, to enjoy himself. It was very much an order purely for the convenience of Rock, not for the mouse's desire. Alex though would be remiss to turn it down, even if he had the choice. An order was an order, and he wanted so badly to wrap his lips around that thick shaft.

Uneasily, he got to his knees, the cooling seed slipping down his balls and crotch now in a sticky, uncomfortable mess. Before him towered Rock and the spire of red, hot flesh. Even in the dark, up close Alex could make out the bulging veins and the glisten of lasting drops of cum, and he licked his lips in anticipation. He waited for the go ahead, mere inches away from putting his tongue to the monster and lapping up what he could. If he could have seen himself, Alex was sure he must have looked pitiful, desperately wanting on another man's command to clean him up whilst covered in his drying cum, all the while openly expressing his desire to be in the very spot he was, doing exactly what that man wanted.

Rock nodded, and like a hungry feral he lunged on the wolf's cock. Spent as he was, with his dick now softening, there was enough rigidity for Alex to lap and suck eagerly at the wasting load. But as soon as his tongue made contact with the warm, salty flesh, Rock began counting, and it became a race against time to both relish what he could as well as to finish the job he'd been given. The taste of cock was lost on his lips as he slurped and suckled the cum up, gulping it down as it smeared across his face, guzzling what he could with gusto. He barely even got a chance to actually seal his mouth around the tip and go down on the wolf before he heard the numbers creeping down to zero. Alex became panicked, nearly frightened that he wouldn't finish or that he would lose out on his fleeting opportunity, and he practically lost all self-control as after so long being denied everything he yearned for from an orgasm of his own to the taste and feel of cock he was hungry for what little he could get.

Rock reached zero, and he shoved the mouse off of him, his member slurping from between Alex's lips with a lewd splat, falling limp against his sack as it retracted back into his sheath. He was clean, much to Alex's relief, and the rodent would have to make do with that brief fraction of an encounter. It could be some time before he got any chance like that again, and he very much doubted that his behaviour now had done him any favours in earning the wolf's approval.

"Good boy," Rock said steadily, but there was a hint of disappointment to his voice, "You did well, but clearly you can't control yourself yet. Maybe a few days more and you might learn."

Alex was inside a raging turmoil of guilt, shame, dismay and anger, knowing it was hardly his fault he'd been deprived for so long but realising there was nothing to be done but to relent to the wolf's designs. Outside, he nodded, and thanked his master for the pleasure of service he'd been able to provide, embodying the notion of an ideal slave and toy for Rock. He knew, deep down, a thought that roared in his head now, that he'd be nothing but an object to the wolf for even longer now, until he might get another chance to prove himself worthy of the wolf's cock and load.