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[Anubis] was diligent in the cleansing of his body, but it would take more than a mere bath to scrub the failure of submission from him. The warm waters of the [Hot Spring] seeped into his ruined fur, the massaging of his fingertips washing away the dried essence of several males, though he always seemed to find more. While his regenerating [HP] had restored the keen abdominals of his once-bloated stomach, he could still feel the shameful slick beneath his tail of their seed escaping him into the pool, and the taste of [Incineram] essence lingered on his tongue as well. He had been marked by them, the fact that he had been made a plaything by lesser Pals obvious to anyone that caught his scent, and this terrible affront to his pride eroded the foundation of his noble spirit.

Overlooking the [Wooden Platform]s on which the pair of [Hot Spring]s were built was placed a [Statue of Power], an effigy that took the form of [Alpha Anubis], and the stone face looked down at him in judgement, wearing an expression that was much like the unimpressed visage of his sire. He had failed in his trial. There was no sin in the circumstances through which he had suffered, no blame that could be apportioned to him for being made helpless in the stocks with a queue of males ready to set themselves upon his back. His affront to the natural order was that he had enjoyed it. He had delighted in submission to weaker Pals, and all because the helplessness of his bondage had struck at the heart of a taste that he never knew that he had.

Thinking about it that way, a great many things made sense to him. He had been rewarded with females before for his good service to [Alpha Anubis], and while he had very much enjoyed the partaking of them, there was simply no comparison to the pleasure he had felt when his sire brought him low in battle, pinned him down in helplessness, and fucked him through his whining bitchgasms. That privilege which should belong only to his betters, had been squandered on lesser Pals. The law of the [Palpagos Islands] was for the weak to submit to the strong, not the other way around.

It was morning in the [Plateau of Beginnings] camp, and the Pals belonging to his new Master were already hard at it. A [Leezpunk] and [Foxparks] worked in tandem in a crafting area, processing materials and procuring [Ingot]s. [Direhowl] and [Alpha Chillet] patrolled the perimeter, [Tombat] and [Eikthyrdeer] toiling away at a [Stone Pit] and [Logging site] respectively. Oh, and there was a [Cremis] sunbathing in the [Ranch], a little bundle of [Wool] materialising next to him every once in a while. The Human had gone to his [Shoddy Bed], exhausted from his nighttime infiltration, and the Pal whom he had ordered to look after him reclined in the second [Hot Spring] to his side.

The [Lovander] grinned, looking rather smug as she watched him bathe. He recognised her immediately of course, one half of the sibling duo that had visited so much debauchery on the [Twilight Dunes] in the past. They had abandoned the desert to set off on their travels around a year ago, much to the relief of [Alpha Anubis], but rumours concerning them had drifted back to their home from time to time. Nothing good, of course. And she had looked delighted to observe him unleashed from his [Pal Sphere] that morning to slap to the ground before the camp Pals in a puddle of cum – a great deal more leaking from his undertail.

So much for his dignity.

“Sometimes I look at the [Statue of Power] and daydream a little bit, too. Are you having yourself a little fantasy about [Alpha Anubis]' big fat knot? I bet you got fucked plenty by daddy's bitch-breaker." She licked her lips, almost as bad as [Daedream] in her taunts. Though unlike the imp, [Anubis] didn't detect even a hint of real malice behind the words.

He acknowledged her with a measured retort, “It is right for the weak to bow to the strong." He scrubbed vigorously at the fur of his torso, “I challenged by father to experience the depths of his strength, and when he defeated me, he had his due. It was a rite of submission, and nothing more."

“Was that what you were doing in that camp? Bowing to the strong?" She gave a small smile, “Sounds like a whole lot of fun to me. I was worried when [Eikthyrdeer] said that Master had caught an [Anubis], but I think you're going to fit right into my lewd utopia!" The [Lovander] laughed joyously, her demeanour entirely amicable. Or as amicable as such a depraved creature was capable of being, “There is a place for every one of Master's Pals in the debauched paradise I'm building. I don't get why you're looking so depressed. Did you think it was embarrassing to show up covered in jizz? Haven't you seen what's oozing out from that bitch [Direhowl]'s spade?"

She clapped her hands together, “One time, Master fucked so much of his superior Human cum into [Cremis], that when we squeezed him afterwards, some of it came out of his mouth! Oh, and [Leezpunk] screams to the whole camp about how much of a 'Human-owned cumdump-faggot' he is while Master has him bouncing in his lap. What have you got to be ashamed of?"

[Anubis] was quiet for a while, pausing in his bathing, “…is a [Lovander] trying to cheer me up?" It didn't seem possible. Especially not for this one. Her depravity was legendary – along with her brother, she had broken the mind of an [Alpha Cremis] and distorted the rule of his pack into one of sexual domination. They had turned a powerful [Tombat] into their sex slave, seduced Humans into deviancy, and many more debauched exploits besides.

“I have a name, you know?" Not that she was particularly pleased with it, “I know you [Anubis] are all super stuffy. I find that baffling when you had the best cock of the [Twilight Dunes] on tap whenever you lost a fight. I would have been challenging that Alpha Pal every day if I were one of you." She shrugged, “Anyway, you look like the sort of serious guy that'll get lost inside his own head. I don't want any sad faces in Master's harem. So, I'm here to sweep away the gloom – it's as simple as that! Don't you get ahead of yourself and think that I care about you, or anyone else!"

Her speech had ended with a pout, and it sent [Anubis] reeling. What sort of Human had tamed the most sinful whore of the [Twilight Dunes] into this? He closed his eyes, trying to take stock of things. It was right and proper for a Pal to surrender their everything to a worthy Master, and part of his own problem was that he had shown submission to the unworthy. Perhaps he could think of those weaker Pals as the limbs of the [Rayne Syndicate] that had conquered him, but he knew that was something of a stretch. Even if the [Strange Juice] had helped him along a little, there was no doubting his surrender – and with no [Pal Tamer] to direct the mob that had broken him to pleasure, his reasoning that a grander power was pulling the strings fell short.

Still, this [Lovander], seemed determined to cheer him up – and while she may have said that it was for the sake of some sort of lewd utopia, [Anubis] had the power to weigh the soul of a Pal, and it shocked him to find purity in her intent. Something had changed this depraved creature, and without any recourse, he found himself hugging his legs and speaking from the heart, “I have committed an unforgivable taboo. An affront to the natural order. I allowed myself to submit to the unworthy. Because…" Well, if anyone would understand, it would be a [Lovander], “I found the helplessness of restraints to be to my tastes."

She nodded, and he continued quickly before she could interject, “My spirit was weak. This is no excuse." [Anubis] took a breath, “I cannot simply forget this dishonour. To do so would be to disregard my pride. My shame is too great. To have deviated so greatly from the ways of my people makes me defective. I am unworthy to serve our Master."

“Garbage." Vanilla waved her hand dismissively, “You belong to Master now. You don't get to decide whether or not you're worthy. He's the only one with the right to determine your value. Whatever happened before you became his possession is completely irrelevant." She huffed, “I wish that the prude deer could understand that, as well. You're an owned Pal. Give everything to Master, and he'll take care of you. It's that simple." The lewd lizard grinned, “All you should be thinking about is how best to serve him. Our Master has exotic tastes. So, for building this home for us, feeding us, protecting us, caring about us – I'm going to make him the King of a depraved paradise."

She leaned back, letting her gaze drift skywards, “Oh, it will be wonderful. I am going to make every Pal of this camp into a well-trained whore for his harem. We females are to be his cumdump womb-slaves, you males are his subservient boy-sluts. The only holdout is [Eikthyrdeer], and it's only a matter of time before the penny drops for her. I can't wait to lick the cream from her cervine pussy." Her smile was a truly blissful one, “The work never ends. That egg is going to hatch soon, and Master has another one as well, the offspring of Mint and that islander whore. Oh, and those two [Pal Sphere]s he's yet to crack open, that will be an enjoyable rivalry, and I plan to point their contest squarely at serving Master. And of course, there is you." She licked her lips again, “So, are you ready to get over yourself and raise your tail like a good little whore?"

[Anubis] gave a slight huff, annoyed at himself that the expressive sound had broken his normally impenetrable mask of a countenance, “You ask me to cast aside everything for the sake of this Human?"

“Yeah, I do." As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “You [Anubis] only need a glance to get the measure of someone, and if you didn't approve of him, I'm sure you would have said already. You're going to serve him from now on. Put that [Handicraft] proficiency for work for him. Help [Tombat] out with the [Mining]. Fight, when it's needed. And then at night, you're going to be a proper submissive male and offer up your muzzle and your undertail for your Master. You're going to take superior Human cock, and you're going to be fucked into a bitchgasm that'll snap your too-rigid mind clean in half. You're going to have your fur plastered with his essence, until all other scents fade. That's what you're for. A good subservient whore for Master. A bondage-loving slut-bitch dedicated to the cock that owns you."

She gave a happy sigh, “That's what you want, too. If you weren't a sexual creature, then me talking about how Master is going to dominate you down to your soul wouldn't have made your dick hard."

[Anubis] jolted, a glance down quickly accompanied by a deep blush as he finally noticed the erection that he was sporting. Pals were adaptable creatures, but the chaos of his life was overwhelming. Defeated in battle by the [Rayne Syndicate], dominated by their Pals into some sort of sexual awakening, and now a [Lovander] was seducing him into surrender to his new Master. It had all happened in such rapid succession that even the deep-thinking jackal struggled to parse everything, and now he found himself adrift. “I cannot abandon my pride."

“Then don't." She rolled her eyes, “Ugh. You serious types are so obstinate. Fine. Let me put it like this. You're all sad because you surrendered to a bunch of weaker Pals, and they fucked you senseless, and you loved it, right?" That almost managed to get a scowl out of the jackal, and she pressed on, “Well, if you submit more deeply to a worthy Master, then just one little bit of weakness to those losers doesn't count anymore, does it? If you had fully surrendered to them, then nobody else would be able to take possession of you, right? So, if Master fucks you broken, then it's all fine. This can all be solved with a good enough dicking, frankly."

“That's ludicrous!" [Anubis] raised his voice, leaping to his feet. Though he quickly dropped back into a crouch when his knotted cock bobbed embarrassingly in front of him, “Such contrived thinking is an affront to the natural order, interpreting dogma in a way that most suits me!"

“More garbage." Vanilla sighed, “Looks like you're not going to understand until you're riding Master's cock with yours painting your chest. It took a whole pack of Pals to put you in the state you arrived in, and they all passed out in the effort, right? Well, our Master is a true monster. I don't know if it's my pheromones, or that tablet, or something else – but none of us have outlasted him. Even I have…" Her nose twitched, “Drawn! Every time, it was a draw! It's not like a [Lovander] would ever get out-fucked by a mere Human, even one as impressive as Master!"

[Anubis] squeezed shut his eyes and considered her reasoning. There was a little merit in it. If this Human could show him what real submission was, claim him more deeply than that group of Pals, or even [Alpha Anubis], then it could be said that would be the moment in which he truly surrendered to a dominant male for good. It may be a bit of a stretch, but it was one he could perhaps swallow. And if Vanilla was wrong, then he decided that he would punish himself through celibacy, and serve his Master as a Pal entirely removed from any carnal affairs, denied every pleasure.

“How do you propose that I…" He took a breath, “…entice our Master?"

She grinned victoriously, “Oh, you leave that to me! It's simple now that I know your tastes. We're going to need a little help from [Leezpunk] – Master put him in charge of the crafting stores, and it's going to take a lot of work to set up what I have in mind…"

It was dusk when Luke finally awoke, the man having slept the day away after a full night of careful infiltration of [Rayne Syndicate] territory. He'd heard plenty about their villainy from Beryl, but never imagined that the heart of one of their camps would be the site of such depravity. He gave a slight sigh on the recollection of it, self-aware enough to acknowledge that the fact that he had found the sight rather arousing was quite a telling sign of just how immersed in perversion his life on the [Palpagos Islands] had left him. His exotic tastes found [Anubis] attractive, though these were the same tastes that had compelled him to dump a load of cum into Glace's puffy spade before setting off on the expedition to begin with, so if anything a humanoid-jackal was plainer than his usual fare.

He really had become an irredeemable pervert. Though, some inner voice reassured him that such a thing was his right. Inside the mists, this was a world where the strong possessed the weak, and every Pal that belonged to him was his completely, to enjoy in any way that he desired. Not that he was the type that would ever force any of them to do anything against their will – but as each had offered themselves up to him, he had not hesitated for a moment to indulge his desires. Though, with a slight huff, considering how needy they tended to be with him these days, he had the feeling that rather than them all serving his carnal wants, he was buried in work serving theirs.

If he went more than a few days without fucking one of his subservient males to a quivering bitchgasm, or pumping his cum deep into the cunt of one of his womb-slave whores, then they could get a little testy with him. [Leezpunk] seemed to have worked out some sort of schedule for the Pals to keep to, a turn order for sharing his [Shoddy Bed], though Luke's nighttime hunts and other spontaneous expeditions often made a mess of it. So did the random seduction of Pals around the camp, and one time after [Tombat] had enticed him into setting her against one of the boulders of her [Stone Pit] for a much-needed dicking, the little lizard had chased her around the entire perimeter, furious for her jumping ahead in the queue. He'd made his complaints known to Luke as well in the limited sign language he'd managed to pick up thus far.

The man grinned. He couldn't believe he was complaining about it. His sexual stamina was as bottomless as his lust, and he should be glad to have so much opportunity to satisfy himself with exotic bestial cunt and the lewd undertails of unique-cocked boy-sluts. His camp had become quite the collection of pleasures, but the truth was that it was much more for him than that. He liked his Pals. It was fun to cook with Ashley, to explore the wilderness with Glace, or work on a difficult craft together with [Leezpunk]. He treasured them all, and it made him a little sad to remember that one day he would be leaving them all behind when he finally escaped the [Palpagos Islands]. Ah, thinking of [Leezpunk], he really should get around to naming him, and the other unnamed Pals as well.

Alas, that would be a task for his future self. Tonight, he should at least check in on [Anubis], the man having left the Pal in the care of Vanilla while he slept the day away. He didn't choose her on a whim – but as the most sexualised creature amongst his Pals, thought that she might be the best to tend to him given the state that he was in when Luke had found him. He sighed, hanging his head. He'd thought that the [Pal Sphere] might have had some sort of convenient cleansing feature, and didn't imagine for a moment that when he presented the 'symbol of nobility' to his camp, they would appear covered in cum, their belly bloated with the jizz of who knew how many males.

He would have to apologise. That was probably a pretty bad first impression, and as he was so reliant on his Pals for survival here, he wanted everyone to get along. That hope to keep the peace was the reason that he was yet to open the pair of [Pal Sphere]s that he'd stolen from the [Rayne Syndicate] camp. [Katress] and [Wixen], both female, and with [Paldeck] entries that noted hostility between those species. It was going to be quite the undertaking to find common ground. Maybe he could just fuck them both into submission? No. That sort of thinking was a little too convenient. No matter how good a mating he gave them, he doubted that the common ground of being womb-fucked to ruination would be quite enough for them to join hands. Right?

Luke shook his head and decided that this time he would blame his perverted thoughts on [Lovander] pheromones. Maybe he could make [Katress] and [Wixen] kiss around his cock and pass his cumshot back and fo- no, stop thinking such depraved things! He slapped his cheeks, telling himself that he was the very picture of purity. Maybe, just for tonight, late though it was already, he should get a little work done, go without sex, and get back to his [Shoddy Bed] at a reasonable hour.

Yeah! It was about time he upgraded to [Metal Armour], and he could work together with the nocturnal [Leezpunk] to clear the craft in good time, maybe even finishing the [Metal Helm], too. He placed his fist into his hand, invigorated by the task before him. It was time to turn over a new leaf and practice a little moderation. The thought made him rather proud of himself for having the willpower to exercise such restraint when surrounded by such delights as he was. It was a pity that what awaited him outside his door would undercut his resolve completely.

The lower floor of the structure built against the cliffside was for Luke, consisting of a rather spacious bedroom (it needed to be, considering some of the company he often had there), and a living space designed with relaxation in mind, well-furnished and lit by a [Wall Torch]. He didn't have much opportunity to while away time here, but it was good to have available for when he felt like such a thing. Though now, his carefully laid out furniture had all been set aside, the heart of the living space cleared to make room for a [Wooden Table] topped with his freshly captured [Anubis].

The Pal was set upon his back and bereft of his clothing, his sandy-coloured fur completely exposed by the light of the flickering [Wall Torch]. The manner in which he was arrayed was a work of art, a farcry from the clumsy tiedown by which [Leezpunk] had once been presented to him, this was a true offering. [Rope] was an item that was not available to the standard progression line of the tablet, though for Luke it had appeared some time ago as a unique item – and it was at use here in abundance.

His plantigrade legs were bound tightly, shins to thighs as if he were kneeling, bindings at his ankles and about the knees keeping them spread wide. It exposed his undertail and his furred orbs, along with the azure cock that had fully emerged from his sheath, knot and all, to leak a bead of precum from its tip into the fur of his abdomen. His arms were folded behind his body, locked together tightly by the [Rope] to force his chest outwards, and through the fur could just be glimpsed the peaks of his nipples – just one pair, not unlike a Human. They were the same light blue as the rest of his soft tissue. [Cloth] had been balled up and stuffed into his muzzle, a loop of [Leather] keeping him gagged, and the shirt of Luke's old [Cloth Outfit] served as a blindfold.

[Anubis]' own discarded clothing had been bundled into a little cushion-like heap just below the small of his back to allow the raising upwards of his hips without discomfort. The only part of him that was not restrained was his tail, the one means by which he was permitted to express himself, and it slowly wagged back and forth enticingly below the [Pal Fluid] slicked opening of his undertail. The crisscross of bondage and artistry of the presentation betrayed [Leezpunk]'s hand, though there was little doubt in Luke's mind that this was an offering made by his [Lovander]. She wasn't present to unveil the gift, but the intensifying sway of their tail and the strain of their needy cock made clear that this encounter was something that [Anubis] truly yearned for.

Luke gulped. He wasn't quite expecting this. Whatever state of ruin he may have found the jackal Pal in, the [Paldeck] entry had led him to believe that this was a creature of nobility, antithetical to the sort of debauchery that typically went on around the camp. He imagined that [Anubis] would probably be as uninterested in sex as [Eikthyrdeer] seemed to be, and the shock of this presentation blew him away. Maybe eventually, the doe would appear before him as well…

He shook his head. It was hardly appropriate to be thinking of another Pal when something like this was laid out for his enjoyment. What better opportunity to get to know the latest addition to the camp? This sort of bonding experience in which he demonstrated his power over his belongings seemed to generally be precisely what was expected of him as Master, and no further excuse was required for him to indulge himself. This would be a head start on bringing this new male into submission, and since [Anubis] seemed so open to carnal pleasures, Luke intended to take his time teaching the jackal Pal his place. So much for a quiet night of crafting.

There was an elegance to their disposition, some aura projected by the Pal making clear the depths of pride and nobility that ruled this creature. Even tied up, blindfolded and gagged, their legs spread, and sex exposed, there was an undeniable sense of grace. The thought of bringing them to ruin brought with it a feeling of taboo, as if Luke was about to defile something holy. He gave a small huff. No. This Pal belonged to him. [Anubis] was his to defile as much as he wanted, and that the Pal was here at all, presented in such a way, was more than enough sign that the jackal wanted this as well. He was going to ruin this creature. His own pride as Master demanded that he bring them far lower than that gaggle of Pals back at the [Rayne Syndicate] camp had managed. [Anubis] was going to be his devoted whore, as desperate a cumdump faggot as the other males of his camp that had bowed to him.

He approached, taking full stock of the Pal that he owned, his hand finding the fur of their shin and his fingers brushing against it. Short and rough, a fine bulwark against the desert sands and burning sub, but it still felt pleasant to the touch. Luke allowed his hand to climb, up to the raised knee where the joint was locked, and then back down along the thigh. Plantigrade, rather than digitigrade, it was somewhat unexpected, but seemed to suit this Pal and their more humanoid physique. There was a heat beneath his palm, the musculature of well-trained flesh hard against him, and though he drew close to the crotch, he quickly bypassed it to instead trace the abdominals.

[Anubis] gave a slight whine in response, one which seemed entirely unbefitting of such a refined looking creature, and as if realising that, the jackal quickly clammed up into silence. Luke grinned and continued his examination. His hand came higher up the heaving chest, brushing aside the scruff usually covered by the draped clothing to find a light blue nipple concealed by fur. He dug it out carefully, finding the point to already be rather stiff, and it became like iron as he rolled it between his thumb and first finger. Would a female [Anubis] have humanlike breasts, then? Perhaps he should see about convincing Beryl to breed with this one as well…

Returning to the here and now, he reached higher, feeling the bicep and finding a slight softness which clenched into might as if [Anubis] was hoping to impress him. Rather endearing, really. He then found the furred cheek, the facial fur much softer, a downy texture that made him want to press his face into it. The muzzle was inappropriate for kissing, though there would have been no chance for that with the gag involved anyway. Thinking about it, not a single one of his Pals had the sort of muzzle configured in a way that would allow such a thing. Not without it being very messy. Though, maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Draping down from the cheek, he then set his hand at their throat, his fingers to the side of the neck and his thumb leveraged over the windpipe. He didn't apply a single ounce of pressure, but just the presence of his grasp alone was enough to make [Anubis] twitch, his cock leaking another hearty droplet of canine precum. To place his hand here was a demonstration of ownership, it said, 'your life belongs to me', and it pleased Luke for the discovery. Oh. Perhaps it was more than that. There was the context of bondage to consider as well. Not only, 'your life belongs to me', but 'you are truly helpless before me'.

Feeling quite proud of his insight, he carried on, releasing the jackal's throat and letting his hand drape all the way to their navel, and then onwards to their azure cock, the same blue as all of their soft tissue. The heft of it was comparable to his own, the canine maleness pulsing slightly as he took it in hand, the knot asserting its presence under the pressure of his touch. Immediately, the few leaking droplets of precum became a steady stream, the productiveness of Pals truly on display as Luke surveyed his prize. [Anubis] had been prepared with his undertail already slicked, and the man brought up his other hand to run his fingers over the opening before slowly taking their furred orbs into his grasp.

All of this Pal belonged to him, cock included, and while Luke was an uncompromising top, he didn't see any reason to not indulge his submissive males every once in a while. Slowly, he dragged that azure length back until it pointed skywards, already rewarded with another small whimper. His thumb found the tip, the point from which the abundance of slick was leaking, and he slowly traced small circles there, his hand pumping the length up and down as more lubrication eased the motion. Within the grasp of his offhand, those furred orbs churned up their load, and Luke decided to take his time learning the pleasure of his [Anubis].

Behind the knot was as sensitive as expected, but the motion of his cumslicked thumb over the slanted tip of the maleness seemed to have even more of an effect on the bound jackal. Curious, he ceased the stroking motion completely, focusing only on the slow and torturous motion of those little circular rubs. He thought about making some declaration, but there was no need as of yet. For now, he would let his actions speak for him. [Anubis] was a deep-thinking Pal, and would certainly infer just about everything all on his own, after all.

The Pal in question was about to go crazy with need. It amazed him how difficult it was to keep his voice in, for pleasure forced whimpers beyond the gag of his muzzle. For the first time, he was able to explore this newly discovered kink of bondage, and the Human, his new Master, was guiding him to a cliff edge. The nature of his touch demonstrated how he was owned, helpless, completely at the mercy of the man, and now he was made sport of, toyed with in the way that one could only do with a possession entirely within ones ownership.

When locked into the stockade of the [Guillotine], [Anubis] had always had enough strength to break free, bound in place primarily by his pride. But this time, the bondage was complete, as unyielding as the grasp in which [Alpha Anubis] would bring him low. He was unable to leverage his power against ropes that bound his limbs so tightly in these locked positions, and the [Pal Sphere] had synchronised his level to the Human, denying him access to his most potent techniques. It compounded the sense of helplessness, and allowed him to see his Master as his superior on a visceral level, the power held over him as stark and complete as that once wielded by his sire.

More than that, there was an attentiveness here which he had never previously been shown. Before his father he was one of a line of males determined to test their power, and after showing each of them their place he would simply move onto the next. [Anubis] had been fucked to bitchgasm, but never by wilful intent of his father, simply as a product to their own satisfaction. The lack of care of the gaggle of Pals that had forced his submission also went without saying. But in his Master there was a softness within the strength. [Anubis] was not simply being used for the pleasure of his dominant male, but truly mastered, his body learnt and then played like an instrument. His Master did not simply wish to break him to obedience, direct him by force and the compulsion of the [Pal Sphere], but bring him to wilful submission. No. More than that. He was being ushered into a condition of dependency.

He was going to be brought into a state in which he could not live without this man. It was a fact that dawned on him after only these most preliminary of touches, the examination of his body and a little toying with his cock. Vanilla was right. He had surrendered to [Alpha Anubis] and he had surrendered to those unworthy Pals – but it was a shallow submission, a bowing only to pleasure. Only now did he truly feel the sensation of true control over him, and through this carnal surrender his Master was going to take possession of him down to his soul. His Master had subdued him at scarcely a touch.

How would he retain his sanity through to the end, when this was just the beginning?

No. If it was like this, then he didn't mind going mad. All he had to do was surrender, and his Master would take care of everything. This is what he was for. This is what he had always been for. His whole life had led to this moment, this instant of surrender, in which he would become the male-bitch of this Human. He had judged their soul at a glance and found them worthy, and there was no hesitation to this final imprinting. He was his Master's whore. His slut. His cumdump. His cockhungry faggot. If the [Lovander] was to build a lewd utopia for his Master, then he would accept even the lowest position if it meant that he could be a part of such carnal satisfaction.

That was the thought that went through his head as his body quivered and his cock erupted, his Master pointing the tip of his maleness slightly away from him to ensure that the entirety of his messy cumshot plastered the fur of his belly and his chest. He whimpered pathetically, but before his Master, that sound of weakness in his throat was precisely the sort of submission that he hoped to show him. [Anubis] was the lesser male, the submissive boy-slut, and his pride as his Master's servant demanded that he make that clear in his every motion.

Blinded and bound, unable to express his voice by means of the [Cloth] gag, he was unable to do anything but receive the touch of his Master, and his focus was amplified by these impediments to his senses. He wanted to sing admiration for them, to make some great declaration of service, to pledge his honour and swear vassalage. But all he was allowed was a servile whine, and a quivering orgasm, the products of helpless submission under the hand of his Master.

“Good boy…" Luke finally spoke, affirming the sight before him as one to his tastes. He liked when his submissives climaxed, taking their expression of pleasure as applause for his efforts, it invoked a measure of pride in his capacity for sexual domination. If he was to be the Master of these Pals, then he felt a responsibility to them, and if dealing with carnal desire was part of his obligation to his possessions, then so be it. He was hardly going to complain – the opportunist in him would never turn up its nose at a gift, and the hedonist in him delighted in every moment of the partaking of it.

“You're mine now, so let me take care of you…" He leaned down, and plied his tongue to the side of the azure cock before him, slowly dragging it from the knotted base up to the tip. This was his first sampling of [Ground Type] essence, and he found it to be oddly palatable, along with the familiar male musk came something like rock salt, along with a scent like the desert wind. Not bad at all. In fact, as far as his own preferences went, this was probably his favourite male to taste so far – not that he'd ever admit that aloud, for he imagined that the other subservient boy-sluts would probably despair.

Enthused, he lowered himself further, beyond the warm fuzz of the sheath to feel the heat of his furred orbs against his lips. There was a strange sense of potency here, and it left Luke ponderous. Perhaps with a little coaxing, he could have [Anubis] follow in the footsteps of [Alpha Chillet] and breed for him. Since Beryl seemed a little more open to the idea of such deviancy now, perhaps he could invite her? It would be quite the sight to see that woman firmly knotted by the canine male – ideally while Luke fucked the essence out of him and right into her needy womb.

His undertail showed by the light of the [Wall Torch] the faintest hint of light blue – not only his nose, pads, and the inside of his mouth, but his cock and soft flesh all bore that same hue. The opening glistened with the clear application of [Pal Fluids] for lubricant, and Luke suspected the hand of [Vanilla] in making sure that his gift was adequately prepared for him. Pleased with her foresight, he drew back up to the slanted tip of the canine cock, and took the first few inches into his mouth. That was all that would be acquired for him to ply his tongue to the weak point of the tip.

His free hand reached lower, his knuckles against the slowly wagging tail, and little by little, he eased his first two fingers into them, plying his tongue to their cock in small circles, he sought out their bitch button and pressed down, immediately rewarded with a gasping pleasure and a small spurt of canine precum. Their heated insides grasped at him, the position of their body almost naturally guiding his fingertips to their point of submissive delight, and he took his time working on [Anubis], establishing a gentle and repetitive motion.

The jackal whined, straining at his bonds. This was not mere service, but the forceful manipulation of his body, the capitalisation of his weak points at a time when he had no means to resist the overstimulation. It was domination through pleasure, and his pulse quickened to the motion, what meagre movement that he was allowed becoming a gentle rock against the probing fingers as his Master's tongue established its torment on a weak point that he'd never known that he had. Female [Anubis] that had been gifted to him by his father had plied their oral talents on him before, but for them was only the clumsy lapping of their broad tongues or the presentation of their muzzles to fuck. This was an entirely different pleasure, one which gave him a quailing feel of submission, as if he were being toyed with, rather than the masculine pleasure of dumping his load down the throat of a servile female.

Not that Luke had any intention of swallowing his orgasm. The seed of a submissive male belonged on the floor, though their own muzzle or over their belly was an appropriate second. When [Anubis] finally whined out the pleasure of his second climax, his Master leaned back one again, relieving the canine member of his mouth to point it upwards – and this time the force of his seed was powerful enough for the apex of the submissive arc of canine cream to reach the hollow of the jackal's throat.

His mind white in ecstasy, he strained again, his resistance futile against the [Rope] bondage. The submissive instinct inside of him had been lit and he yearned to receive his Master's cock. It filled his mind with visions of the future, the many ways that he would present his body to service the one that owned him. He wished to be praised, to hear those words that brought ruin to any canine, 'good boy', again. How would he draw that adulation from the lips of his dominant male?

He pictured himself atop the prone Human, leveraging his pride and elegance into a circular motion as he rode their cock, the Raqs Sharqui, the belly dance, a ritualistic display twisted into carnal delight. His Master had no shortage of eager sluts available to him, submissives all too keen to offer themselves up in passive roles – and he too preferred to be used in such a way, locked into bondage and mated precisely as he was now. But his pride demanded that he take initiative. His ability to see the souls of others, this insight would allow him to anticipate his Master's wants. And knowing them, he could offer his muzzle, his undertail, and his bound body, the allure of his dance, and everything his Master desired, at the time most appropriate. The other Pals as well would probably be pleased to know the best times to approach their owner, especially the little lizard that was in charge of the timetable. Anticipating the needs of his Master and reacting to them – within the confines of the lewd utopia, that would make him what? A butler? A slutler?

The neologism shattered in his mind as his Master resumed his motions. How cruel of him. He was being ruined by the pleasure of foreplay, desperate for the cock that his Master was determined to withhold from him. How many times would he be forced to orgasm before the Human was satisfied? How long must he be tortured before he was granted the pleasure of a mating? He moaned openly now, muffled though the sound was by the [Cloth] gag. He had wet the material enough for drool to now stream from the corner of his muzzle, and he could feel dampness against his face from the tears of submission he had shed. It was almost a pity to deny his Master the sight of what would have been a truly erotic expression, though Luke found the vulnerability of the blinded and gagged [Anubis] even more arousing.

He was determined to bring this Pal to ruin, though if being perfectly honest, was simply enjoying the game of bringing them pleasure. Their body was wonderfully reactive, rewarding his motions with desperate shudders; panting, moaning, writhing need. The [Rope] was truly a godsend. When it had first appeared on his tablet as a side option, he had been elated, though that elation quickly turned to disappointment. [Rope] allowed the making of a great many things, but still, anything he made with it would quickly fall apart, no construct that was not listed on the tablet permitted. From what he could tell, the primary use of it was for things like this: Bondage.

It made him a little suspicious that whatever system was in control of the [Palpagos Islands] was helping along his lewd exploits. Especially after he'd looked into the [Pal Dressing Facility] he'd recently crafted and found quite the… selection… of lewd garments. Well, Beryl had told him that the tablets provided unique options depending on the user, and since it was so obliging in this sense, perhaps it would eventually give him a ship, too. Though it might be a bit much if it started offering up crafting options for things like paddles and ball-gags.

Ah, [Anubis] was about to cum again. He twisted his fingers deeper into the squirming male, the undulating wave motion of the two digits the last thing required to drive them over the edge, another copious climax to cover his chest. Those furred orbs were certainly productive, or perhaps the native regeneration of all those that lived on the [Palpagos Islands] was allowing him something of a quick recharge. It clearly had its limits, as Luke had fucked some of his submissive males completely dry before. It made him wonder how much it would take for the jackal to be fully spent. Well, why not find out?

[Anubis] thought he was about to lose his mind with need. Cock. Cock. Master's cock! He needed to be mated, to be bred, to have his deepest core marked with the essence of the Human that owned him – but the torment of pleasure was unending! His thoughts were starting to become incoherent as he endured forced orgasm after forced orgasm, never permitted reprieve from the overstimulation of the pummelling of his bitch button and soft caressing of his maleness. Whatever scent had been left on his fur by the lesser Pals was certainly now sublimated by the mess of his own submission, his chest inundated with thick and creamy canine seed. It soaked into his fur as if his body was wilfully drinking it in, every vulgar rope of white submission praise to his Master for the pleasure that drew it from him.

Luke allowed his mind to wander. He needed a name for this Pal. Noble and filled with pride, but a shameless slut beneath his ministrations, he wanted a name that was equally subversive, “Cat…" Nothing could be less canine, “Catrian. Cat for short." He withdrew from their knotted cock to deliver his edict, “That's your name, now." It caused the immediate blush that he was hoping for, something perilously trapped between the shame of a feline designation, and the pride of being a named Pal. It was only then that the man released [Anubis] from his torment, reaching up their body and dragging clear the [Cloth Outfit] that had been serving as a blindfold, “I want you to look at me while I fuck you."

Cat nodded, his eyes wide and searching as he took stock of the sight of his own ruin. He'd been blinded early on, so had yet to fully take in the artistry of the bondage that confined him, and now the picture of his submission was complete by the sheer mess of cum that he'd ejaculated over his own chest, his own azure cock nestled into a pool of essence at his lower abdomen. His Master had stripped, casting off his [Pelt Armour] to reveal the lightly tanned skin of an adventurer, his musculature refined by the rigours of life inside the mists. He had taken up position below the jackal, and now allowed the heft of his cock to fall alongside his own.

Comparable in size. No, the Human was a little bigger, losing out only at the knot. The sight made him quiver, not for any physical characteristics of the masculinity on display, but for the sense of submission that it invoked in him. He was about to be mated by his Master, his dominant male, his owner, and the mere proximity of him was enough to draw a feeble droplet of precum from the slanted tip of his own canine member. Surrender spurred on his arousal, and he nodded before fixing his gaze on the sight. His Master wanted him to watch this claiming, and he would not look away for anything.

The Human grappled with his [Rope]-bound thighs, his undertail already perfectly angled by the bundle of discarded clothing beneath the small of his back, he was leveraged to the edge of the [Wooden Table], and his Master set his cock at the silken vice that was made for him. Gentle, yet firm in the action, he claimed his willing bitch in a slow and singular thrust. The face that Cat was making could no longer be called a dignified one, his lascivious expression now that of a completely shameless whore. Finally. Finally. Finally, he was claimed.

He flushed in heated submission, the instinctual surrender to his Master drawing from his core a needy lust that was incomparable to the usherings of the [Strange Juice]. How had he lived his life without feeling this pleasure? His bitch-button was pressed down firmly by the heft forced under his tail, his leaking cock straining against his belly. His Master was allowing him time to get used to the mass of his superior Human maleness, and then he was going to fuck him. He was going to mate him and pour his dominant seed deep into his core, leaving him to walk about the camp with his boy-slut hole well-creamed and leaking its contents down his thighs, just like the other Pals that had the honour of partaking of him.

Already on the verge of blissful climax, it took only a handful of exploratory thrusts before Cat whined out his submissive orgasm, his insides clamping down hard on his Master's cock as his own erupted with seed. He was mated through it, the apex of each thrust meeting with the spurt of fresh ejaculate, the cum literally fucked out of him. It was hard for him to keep to the command of watching his Master, his eyes misting as tears of pleasure rolled down his cheeks, drool leaking from the side of his gagged muzzle as he squirmed impotently.

This is what it meant to surrender as a male, to be made into an impotent cumdump beholden entirely to ones Master. Cat still had a taste for topping, but didn't imagine that he would ever be able to do it without the presence of the Human, without the drive of his directive and the scent of his masculinity. His place was one of service, a wilful whore, the bondage-loving slut and plaything of this man. Cat didn't know a thing about him, save for the quality of his soul and the vigour of his mastery, but already he could feel an irresistible draw, a terrifying dependency. This was the final line, from which there would be no coming back, and he wilfully crossed it. Cat would be Luke's possession, now and forever.

The feeling was almost one of relief. Though, the pleasure of rut was so deep that it was difficult to think enough to envision the washing away of his sin of surrender to the unworthy. His Master didn't touch his cock – he had no need to – the azure maleness was now nothing but an ornament, the rigidity of his canine erection and the expulsion of essence in climax there only to show his Master how much he enjoyed being made his whore. His impotent seed was lesser, and it existed only to breed fresh sluts to fill the ranks of his Master's harem. Perhaps a son to learn submission at his heels. Perhaps a daughter to birth his Master a whole litter of playthings.

Incest didn't mean a thing to Pals, the only thing that mattered when it came to their coupling being how desirable the [Passive Skill]s their partner carried were, so the thought of breeding up and serving his kin to his Master was hardly a taboo one for Cat to have. If anything, the idea filled him with pride, for he would have the opportunity to train them all to serve their Master, and their success in tending to the Human's carnal pleasure would be his as well.

It was a fantasy that lingered in his mind for only a moment, before the reality of his present fucked it out of him. His Master had leaned over him, taking his bound legs into his grasp for the leverage required to mate him brutally. His canine cock slapped against his belly, straining upwards from the steel of sheer arousal, only to fall with every backstroke into the mess of Pal cum pooled over his abdomen. He was forced into a half-crunch, and then one of his legs released for the man to instead grip him about the throat.

Hardly a grasp strong enough to impede breathing that was already limited by the [Cloth] gag, but certainly enough to make its presence known, and the intent behind it. Helplessness. That was the purpose of the bondage to begin with, that was the essence of Cat's tastes. His life in the hand of his Master was the peak of the helplessness that brought him such pleasure, the height of that fantasy in which the entirety of his being was firmly under the control of his dominant male. The weak bowed before the strong. What greater expression of his surrender and servitude was there but this? Every instinct, and adherence to the natural order to which [Anubis] lived his life demanded he give everything.

The resulting orgasm was sufficient to have him white out, his body going entirely limp in a truly pathetic faint. In the future he would say that being unconscious at the moment when his Master first pumped him full of seed was his greatest regret in life, though it was the soul-deep satisfaction of being so claimed that brought him back to wakefulness. His pawtoes curled against his pads, small claws prickling the blue, his head thrashed and body jolted within his bondage. The cascading pleasure was ruinous, threatening to break his sanity as surely as any overindulgence in [Lovander] pheromones, and it changed him on a fundamental level, as his Master came to be above even the natural order to him.

With no deeper depths to the chasm of his surrender to plumb, [Anubis] was devoured whole by his Master, a muffled outcry for his shuddering bitchgasm heralding the moment from which his body would begin to sway desperately into the mating he was receiving. His orbs churned up more of their impotent seed to leak from his useless cock, his insides painted white by thick streaks of vulgar Human essence, the wetness of his fur drawing from the press of their bodies a lewd slapping noise. Plap, plap, plap, it was as if the Human hoped to impregnate him, despite him being a male.

With a growl, Luke withdrew his cock, taking a few moments to survey his handiwork. Bound up, gagged, his face an erotic mess of drool and teers, chest heaving and canine cock leaking; a deluge of seed leaked from his lightly gaped undertail, his tail without enough life in it to even wag joy in submission. He seized the [Anubis] about his middle, lifted him with strength that would have been unreasonable for a Human without the stat boosts of the tablet, and thrust him down onto his front.

The bondage of his legs forced a kneeling posture, his face pressed against the [Wooden Table], and his haunches raised before him. The folded arms, bound by [Rope] and crossed behind his back was a sufficient point of leverage for Luke to grab hold of, and he guided his cock back to the needy bitch-hole of the writhing boy-slut before him. From then on, the mating was imbued with an animalistic brutality, and he bred Cat like a beast in rut, revelling in the dominant feeling of the sense of weight imparted by the uselessly swinging canine cock beneath them.

He smirked at the spattering sound of another orgasm painting the wooden boards of the table below, redoubling an internal promise to himself to fuck his whore until he was completely emptied out. Luke had gone past caring about the source of his unnatural sexual stamina, and leveraged the lot of it in the ruin of his whore, domineering in his control of their body as he pumped another of his own viscous cumshots under Cat's tail. It was a long time before he was sated. Or rather, almost sated.

Now, when [Anubis] reached climax, there was barely a trickle of fluid to show for it, and he allowed the jackal to collapse into the mess that he had made atop the [Wooden Table]. The scent of male submission was thick in the air, but Luke had the thought that his whore deserved more for his keen senses that only the smell of his own surrender. He dragged his cock clear of their undertail, and after lingering on the sight of their uniquely coloured insides on gaped display, he moved around to their front and finally relieved them of the gag.

“Master…" Cat finally reclaimed his voice, gasping, falling over himself in the pledge he had been holding in for so long, “I surrender to you, I am your submissive male, your servant, and I- mmph!"

There was a time for dignity, and this was not it. Luke cut their proud declaration of allegiance short with the hilting of his cock in their muzzle, the man rewarded immediately with the pleasure of a worshipful tongue and grateful throat. This male-bitch had been dominated completely, and words incomprehensible to a Human never would have been able to express that in the first place. What did was the look of unbridled joy, when Luke was at last brought to his final orgasm of the night, a load that completely painted the face of the moaning [Anubis], and one that the needy whore would rub into his fur when his Master finally untied him.

Aftercare was a foreign concept to a Pal, and Luke was completely unaware that the cuddle he shared with [Anubis] when he carried the ruined male back to his [Shoddy Bed] for the night was the action that turned loyalty into love…

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Damn, these things are just pouring out of me lately. It felt right to seperate Anubis into two parts, since the lewd focus in each one of them was so different. I quite enjoyed this one – a bit of a way of balancing out the rather brutal time that Cat had in his first entry. I hope that those reading liked this as well! It deviated a lot from my original plan – there were some fantastic suggestions around the Pal Dressing Facility that I'd hoped to shape this piece around, but when it came to the moment, leaning into their taste for bondage felt more appropriate. I hope to do another offshoot piece like the Absent Master chapter in future where we can focus on these costumes. So, have to ask – aside from the belly dancer outfit that's been suggested for Anubis, and the idea for a collar and leash, what other outfits do you think might be nice for the Pals to battle over at some point? That's my first question. For my second – which Pal do you want next? It's the turn of a female, and the choice is between a combo of Katress and Wixen, or Eikthyrdeer at last. Oh, I'd like some names please, too! There have been a few suggestions so far, but you can never have too many – and I'm most in need of Eikthyrdeer/Katress/Wixen names that meet the naming scheme of being either on the nose or the opposite!

Special thanks to EWEW for the encouragement and nudge for outfits. OddReptile for some support for Beryl and a nice nudge towards some combo chapters! Cyril Dran for having me think more about Eikthyrdeer – I want to use Cat as the means of unlocking her, and I think he's now primed for that. NoNoNope for supporting the Rayne Pals and for some awesome names (along with that Jormuntide Ignis realisation for me). And Etnom for reminding me to make the camp bigger, and for the support as always.

Thanks for every fave, vote, comment, pm, folder sub, watch, and every last view as well. The ideas in the comments have been really amazing, and have been providing the inspiration necessary to have had me churn out the last few of these in rapid succession. I'm going to give it a few days before starting on the next one to see what the decision is between Katress/Wixen and Eikthyrdeer, and can't wait to plough on. I've had a lot of fun writing this series, and really hope that you're all having a good time reading it. Cheers for reading, you legends.

Have a most excellent day.