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Broken to Slavery

Part Two of Three

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A continuation of Captured, Transformed and Forced to Breed

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by adagiodajiang

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“Morning, boy. Ready to get to training?"

The doctor was friendly, the only one that could talk to Greyin with any notion of understanding him and the lion could not help but leap up at the bars, tongue lolling and tail wagging happily. At least, he thought it was happiness, he was just glad to see someone else there that was not another dog, someone who was able to talk to him, do something with him, even if it was all more and more difficult for him, day to day.

The problem with the kennel was too that there was nothing in there, no familiar smells or comfort, to distract him from the horniness lacing him. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it but it seemed to have gotten worse after...something. He couldn't remember, couldn't think back, but it felt quite as if his body had not always been like that, his mind slowly learning what it thought it needed to do, hunching over and humping his bed, panting heavily. No one stopped him from doing that and he kept on and on with it, though it didn't give him any relief at all. Maybe it was never meant to, but it made his mind a little clearer, all so that he could listen to the good doctor and do exactly as he wanted him to do.

Outside, he was walked on a leash, made to heel, everything so strict and stringent that he was thrown one way and then the other with the blasts of pleasure rising from the butt plug. He was glad when it was removed to relieve himself, yet it was not something that he at all felt as if he could do without the aid of his master of the moment, the doctor. He had to rely on him even for that base need and it was telling as to the depth of his indoctrination that he didn't even feel embarrassed about it anymore. It was hard to be humiliated when that was his life, every day and night, living as a dog and giving up the trappings of a crude and cruel reality.

Slowly, however, things came through for him. He didn't have to worry about doing the right thing as muscle memory kicked in, his body obeying before his mind even caught up with half of what was going on. All he had to do was to obey and that made things simpler for him. If he didn't worry so much and fret and nip at his skin, things were easier, and so the dog in him learned to do that, to live with the strains and stresses while he was rewarded for his trouble. The horniness did not detract but if one dealt with something for enough hours and days and months, it sometimes became easier to bear. Nevertheless, the tingling ache and drive that made him yearn to hump and round his lower back like a stud to a bitch remained all the same.

Heel. Walk. Seek. Bite. Kill. The commands went from tricks to how he was to be seen in public and some part of him sank into his training, relishing in it. The companionship was what did it for him, what made his days feel more “worth it" than ever before, for it would have been too easy to slip into a state of delirious helplessness if he was simply locked up in the cell of a kennel. He needed company and companionship only came in the form of the smiling doctor.

If he was smiling, that meant that he was a good boy, that he had done well. He'd get a shock from the butt plug for that and whine through the addictive pleasure as he ground his backside down into the ground, still not understanding where that pleasure had come from. It didn't matter, not truly, when it was just another thing that was controlled by someone over him, that dominated him completely and utterly. Sometimes Greyin wondered why anyone would have ever resisted what the doctor and trainer was asking him to do, or ordering him to do, when it brought with it such bliss of a reward, the pleasure the most addictive thing that his mind had ever been exposed to.

Eventually, his master returned for him and he was a perfectly obedient dog while he walked beside him on the street, though something pulled from the eyes of people. It didn't make sense why he was there but he knew he had to do it, or he would be without his master again. Just look at what had happened the last time he had done anything to disobey his master! None of it was right and none of it was wrong either, the streets extravagant by human standards. For Greyin, they at least afforded him many different things to sniff and smell, often distracted while his master snapped him back into line.

Things changed a little, however, the tiniest bit of control coming back over his body, though it was almost imperceptible to see at first. He was able to show the tip of his cock, though the chastity device remained, the fine mesh not hiding anything of his sheath or balls from view. No, they were merely devices there to control him and not hinder his humiliation, people pointing and whispering, their eyes roaming all over the body of the anthro that they did not understand.

“Why's he doing that?"

“Wasn't he in the rebellion?"

“I thought he'd be out of that suit by now..."

“What – you know about this?"

“Is he...hard?"

Greyin did not know what they were saying but it may have benefitted their control over him to know. As it was, he glared at everyone distrustfully, slinking in just that little bit closer to his master's side, wanting to be protected and looked after even then. That was all he could think of, all that he needed, to be close to him.

Oh, how times had changed.

He walked on all fours quite naturally, able to easily keep up with his master's long-legged stride that covered a lot of ground at once without actually looking like he was at all hurrying along. That was a good thing as it meant that he didn't have to deal with the leash snapping taut all the time, happy to go wherever the tyrant took him, though there was still the odd squirrel still around, tough little buggers, for him to bark at.

“Quiet."

A word from his master had him wagging obediently once more as he shook himself off with a yawn, stretching out while his master paused to talk someone else. If he had been with his anthro mind, Greyin would have realised that they were in an upscale neighbourhood off from where his master's mansion was, though the grounds of the estate his master lived in could have housed entire neighbourhoods in that span alone, it was that large. Everyone there was in the know about political happenings from the angle that the king wanted them to see and they did not care for the abuses and humiliations that came to those that, in their eyes, had sought to strip them of their perfect world.

“He deserves it."

“Yes, well, he's making a fine dog in training for the moment, is he not?"

His master brandished the leash and smiled widely, showing too many teeth to be believed, a crowd of admiring onlookers staring down Greyin. He stood up proudly for his master, for he had not been ordered to either sit or lie down, his cock still on show with a trail of pre-cum dripping from it. He didn't even notice that, though some part of him was grateful for the extra little bit of stimulation to be had there, the bit of feeling that made things a little easier, even if more difficult too. The mere touch of a breeze stroking the very tip of his shaft or the fold of his sheath made him react, though there was nothing more than he could do.

The king smiled and winked, beckoning the others in closer.

“Well, there is a way that you can train them like this better, you see... They will go for a premium, all members of the faux rebellion, once the medical side has had the, ah, kinks worked out of it. Observe."

He allowed Greyin a little space but the anthro stayed right where he was supposed to, chin tipped up a little curiously. What was going to happen to him? Yet the pleasure that shot through him from the large, black butt plug swept all of that from his mind even as it answered the question he'd had there too, tongue lolling as he whined and rocked his hips. Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes! That was what he needed, the hit of pleasure, even if he didn't know just what he'd done to warrant a reward like that. That was quite alright though, considering that he was getting it anyway, rolling and twisting in pleasure as the intensity, even then, ramped up and up.

“Ohhh!"

“My, oh, my, maybe I need one of those too!"

“My husband would love that!"

They laughed at him and yet Greyin did not see anything that was happening as anything that could be mockery at all, oh no. No, he knew that things were happening that were twisted against his will but, well, was that not simply the way of it? He was vaguely aware that something had happened, something that had changed the course of his life forever, and yet that was all well and good when, in the end, all it had done was lead him to his master. His master was everything to him and he was now the one too who, always, controlled whether he got those delicious shots of pleasure or not.

There was more, however, his pre-cum thickening, becoming even more productive as his body ramped up into overdrive, not even able to control the tiniest part of himself. Nothing had been given and everything had been taken and there was nought, even then, that Greyin could do about it. He was there whether the pleasure was to come or not as the butt plug vibrated over and over again, increasing in force, his whole body shaking in response to it.

Was he a good boy? He didn't know what to think, thrusting his hips in the air, his member hard and yet still caged. Maybe a little more of it pushed out into the mesh than before but it was not yet for him to have his cock fully out and on show, not yet. Maybe he would be allowed that later but it would not, by any stretch of anyone's imagination, be for his pleasure. He was just a dog and a dog was not driven by such things, baser needs crawling and snarling for precedence even through it all.

The dog whimpered and twisted, wriggling onto his back, the crowd laughing and pointing to his drooling cock. There was no thought at all behind his actions, driven purely by sexual instinct alone, not aware of what was pushing him on and on. There was no holding back either as he whined and tucked his paws up close to his chin, trying to beg even in that position, for that was one of the tricks that had gotten him some of the very best things, the sort of things that made pleasure roll and ripple through him over and over again.

“He's so helpless!"

“I want one too!"

“Oh, do you think I might be able to purchase a rebel of my own too? I have the credits for it, my lord."

Their language was almost archaic in comparison and contrast to the times and a Greyin who had not had his mind broken would have noted that and scoffed at their adoration of the tyrant. Yet they knew what they were doing, only trying to get themselves ahead in life, pushing through everyone and anyone else that may have oppressed them, kicking and screaming, demanding that it was their rights and their rights alone that were paid attention to. That was just why Greyin had fought back against them so vehemently, although all of that was long gone, his anger converting itself to sexual need and desire. For what else could there ever be for someone like him, a canine who just needed to please.

Every time, however, he was shocked with the plug, he was injected with more and more of the drug, reinforcing his horniness and his pleasure. It made the link in his mind that it was what he needed, that it was how he was, that there would never again be any escaping it when that was his life.

His master led him away after that but he could barely walk straight, hunched and wobbling, though Greyin was perfectly happy. There was no room for anything else in his mind with such horny need, his cock drooling and drooling a near-clear stream of pre-cum, body beyond his control. Wasn't that the way it was all supposed to be?

There was, however, a little nuance of the strip of machinery lacing his spine that could bring him back to his old ways and intelligence, if only for a short amount of time. That was not under his control, of course, but came to light when his master sat him down on the floor of the back deck, looking out over perfectly manicured flower beds, the picture of luxury in a world that, otherwise, was crumbling to nothingness.

The tyrant fiddled with a remote control, brushing his fingers over the stubble of his chin.

“Blasted device... Now, awake."

The words were not necessary but his was a sort of a life where it was very important to feel grand and important and imperious at all times. Therefore, he took his liberties with pushing the limits and pushing buttons, smirking as the lion before him blinked, a little of his old intelligence enlightening his dark, forlorn eyes.

“I..." Greyin worked his jaw, trying to speak, clarity coming to him like it had not before. “I... Grrooff... Ow. What?"

Words were his again – oh, such glorious words! To be able to speak again was a pleasure that he had not anticipated, at least not in such a fashion! He had accepted that things were the way they were, with the drug injected daily, the retraction of it allowing his mind to come back to him, to recognise what was happening.

He reeled. What was he doing down on the ground? Every humiliating thing that he had been made to do came back to him: urinating in public, walking around trailing pre-cum, being forced to do tricks like a pet dog. Greyin snarled, lips pulling back from his teeth, yet was locked in place, something in his training or perhaps the drugs holding him still and rigid.

“You tyrant," he hissed, using the king's least preferred name as he seethed. “Look at what you've done... Do you call this power? Do you call this the epitome of ruling?"

The king surveyed him, his dark hair perfectly brushed, parted on the left and swept to the other side of his head. He grinned.

“It depends on which side of the coin you're looking at it, my dear foe... But you're not much of a foe now, are you? Not without your weapons, your guns and your knives... Little toys don't belong to dogs."

Greyin snarled, showing his teeth, though he couldn't put the feeling behind it that, even then, he felt that he needed to. Everything was muted, softened, as if he could not push all the way, snarling and grunting thickly, his words trapped in his throat when, even then, he wanted so terribly to let them out. He could remember everything and, oh, how he did not want to. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong, the edges of his reality crumbling as every fibre of his being leaned in towards the tyrant, wanting to rip his throat out, reverting to feral nuances when he was, truly, devoid of his usual weapons of choice.

“What do you want of me?" Greyin growled, hunkering down, drool slavering from his jaws as he was stared down. “This cannot be worth it to you... A sex toy on a leash. Chain me up, kill me – I don't want this life!"

But it was as it was all meant to be as the king was merely testing out how quickly the drugs could be removed, lightly, from his system, injecting another to counteract the mind-bending properties of the first. He would need the lion-dog, after all, to be lucid and clear at some point, and he needed to know that he was able to shut off the supply of drugs when needed.

“Back to sleep, good dog..."

The snarl in the master's voice lured him down but when Greyin blinked next he was just a dog again. He growled and shook his head, licking his lips, everything in his body seeming clunky and awkward, like he didn't really fit in it anymore. Was he hurt somewhere? He looked down at himself but only saw the white of his fur, the curve of his chest, sitting back on his haunches with his tail, very neatly, curled around his haunches. It felt more comfortable to be there and he relaxed there, panting lightly, working out the tension from his jaw.

“Better now, boy?"

Greyin nuzzled his master's hand with a whine. He didn't know what those words meant anymore. It didn't matter. Nothing of that was his issue. It never would be his issue while his mind was not his own.

His world continued as normal, training every day under the master's hand, always returning to his side, until he was taken away from the posh streets and houses and lifestyle to something a little closer to home. The college campus of adult students would have been familiar to him if he had been looking at everything with his old eyes, though the run-down buildings and harried professors were, truly, doing the best they could in a world that may as well have been post-apocalyptic for how it ran.

He followed his master through the campus on all fours without a care, his bitch-suit changed for something a little more formal, although he was let out of it at times, despite never moving in a different way. Greyin's indoctrination was so intense that he didn't even think of walking in a more comfortable way, his muscles learning to work and accommodate the new way of moving – what eventually became his new norm.

“Is that..."

“Didn't he..."

“I can't believe it..."

“And I was going to..."

“Don't say that here!"

Hushed voices followed him, his master surrounded by his bodyguards and all that went with him in public. No one was getting close but everything negative that could and would have been said was jotted down and the candidates logged for reprogramming: a service that would tame all negative thoughts towards the king from their minds in the blink of an eye. Was the service optional? Well, that depended on what someone considered to be “optional"...

Everyone had to come under the hand of the king. Whether they wanted to or not.

His cock pushed out a little, pre-cum drooling in a thicker stream, his excitement always present. Something brushed his coat, a hanging drape of some sort that was covering up a cracked hole in the wall of the hallway, and he shivered, tingles of erotic ecstasy begging him to cum. Well, the notion of it, at least, as he could not know what was there for him, what he needed to do to relieve the aching need within him, how it pulsed and trembled within him. It was always there and all it took was a click of his master's remote and the plug was pulsing and vibrating maniacally under his tail all over again, sending him into grunting, shuffling pleasure.

It was hard to keep walking and obediently following his master when that toy was working but he didn't have a choice in the matter. All he was there for was obedience and he sat, panting haplessly, beside his master as he stood before a full auditorium of adult students.

Greyin's eyes roamed over each and every one of them in turn, his training kicking in. He wasn't just there, of course, to look pretty and be his master's dog, but he was there to protect him too. What he did not know was that they had picked him especially for that role due to his assassin work, his previous training as an anthro lion, putting that to play as a guard dog, though a protective role was perhaps not the one that he would have chosen for himself. There were many roles that he would have taken on with a side more dignity to them, if he had ever been allowed the choice.

Everyone there flicked their eyes between him and his master and Greyin sat like a statue. He was there to defend and it was up to him to see threats that were going to come to fruition before they happened, lifting his head a little higher to sniff at and scent the air. He shook his head slowly, hair ruffling, though he only saw the white of his mane as a fluffy ruff of fur and not a typical mane anymore. Dogs did not have those, after all.

There was a speaker standing centrally, addressing the students, though it was doubtful how much attention he was gaining with their attention wandering. Some students frowned, propping their chins upon their hands, others sinking back into their clothes, hoods pulled up over their heads as if they were trying to darken and shroud their faces. Greyin rumbled lightly with a subtle growl, though the fingers of his master touching the thick leather collar around his neck told him that now was not the time. Maybe his time to act would come but his master too seemed to be sure that there was no threat there.

Greyin's cock throbbed lightly, the drugs feeding him even more of what made him so horny, his vision shivering and greying lightly. He could barely breathe, panting and heaving, his flanks shuddering for breath, although it was not as obvious to those watching him as it was to Greyin. All the lion could think about was the lust coursing through him, rolling his hips the pink of his cock protruding from his sheath. He was not worried about anyone seeing it through the mesh, of course, as that was just the way of things, how they were, and humiliation was not something that a dog worried about.

Dog... Lion... Lion-dog... What was the difference, really? They all served the same purpose to the master, ultimately.

The king stepped up to take the floor, the speaker shuffling aside, muttering and adjusting his glasses.

“Oh, dear, I don't seem to be getting through... Maybe you could? My lord?"

“See here – what happens to those that resist me!"

His master's voice boomed out as he took over from the speaker, there to demonstrate his power to some of the most impressionable minds in his jurisdiction.

“They are no threat to us, these nuisances, easily tamed, weak-minded and easily broken. Is this what you want to become? Is this what you envision yourself becoming within my land and country?"

Greyin blinked. The words meant nothing to him but he could smell fear on the air and it was not coming from before him. The students shifted uncomfortably in their seats, obvious even to an eye that was not as discerning as that of a canine trained for such things, his whiskers quivering as he observed quietly. They could look at him all they liked because he was there for his master, to protect his master. It did not matter to a dog just where their attention was, as long as he was focused on his job.

The plug vibrated away under his tail as the lion grunted and whined. Whatever it was that his master was saying washed over him, words, just words. They were not words that were relevant to him but all eyes were on him as he was used as a live demonstration, rocking his hips, his tail lifted to show off all that he had to offer. He was not conscious of what his boy was doing, coming to a final peak of lust, rising more and more, throbbing up so that even the chastity device had to work harder against the contradicting effect of the drugs being pumped into his system, everything more potent in all that came forth.

One could not overpower the other, not with how the drugs had been set up to work with the chastity device, a grunt on Greyin's lips as his master shoved him forward by his collar.

“This is a rebel! This is what you do not want to become! An obedient dog at my feet... None of them can stand up to me – not one! They are all useless, broken, hapless fools that followed an ill path. Their organisation is pure evil, against the ways of our god, the loves that we have held dear to our hearts. It is curs like this one that wish to steal all of that from us! And are you going to let that happen?"

The king smiled as the students cheered, some more enthusiastically than others, stomping their feet, banging their hands or paws on the desk, a mix of anthros and humans that somehow still came together in perfect harmony. They would be his, his loyal subjects, pawns for his challenge of life that would work to secure his position there forever.

That was only the first of the lectures he had to give that day and, frankly, it would have been considered torture, if he had known what torture was. To be sent such waves of pleasure from under his tail, his pucker closed and clenching around the neck of the plug... It was a special brand of torture indeed, breaking his mind down more and more. The king was relentless about using the remote over and over, leaving it switched on even while they were travelling between campuses. It was hardly possible for Greyin to even walk by the final campus, hobbling and whining, his head hanging, as much as he wanted to stay with his master, to keep up with him at all costs.

He sat before the crowd of students, the oldest of them, some of them shrinking back from him with hisses on their lips. They were more mature than those that were just moving from high schools to college and knew what was happening more than the others, educated in the ways of the world too, though Greyin was broken down too far to even think of resisting. Shivering in place, he was not even aware that he was supposed to be watching and guarding his master, a moan on his lips.

He looked up at his master, able to think a little more clearly: he could not have known that his master was toying with the intelligence settings the whole while, finding the perfect level and combination for him to allow the lion to speak without getting out of control. Control, of course, was more important than ever.

Greyin whimpered, working his jaws, though words would not come to him yet.

“What's that?" His master leaned down to him, but was not any quieter, wanting everyone to hear. “You want to say something, my lovely dog? My faithful hound!"

He boomed as he released Greyin's drug levels to the point where his language capabilities were returned to him.

“P-please," he stuttered, so quiet that his master had to lean in closer. “Let me... I need to..."

He couldn't finish the sentence as his master laughed, straightening and shaking his head.

“Oh, dear dog... You can't have that. Unless you bow to my honour too and join in these lectures. Educate these young minds as to what happens when you rise up against me, not that you were ever a threat, of course. Tell them that they will fall, that they will break. Show them what has come of you, the supposed strongest when you were always the weakest of them all."

Not many of the minds in that audience were young but they were canny and troubled by what they saw as Greyin shuffled forward, still on all fours and knowing that, even then, he was not able to stand up. A lecture he was to give about the king and his prowess, why all should bow before him? He shivered. The words would have to come, his throat raw and sore from not speaking, even the mere act of talking feeling foreign and wrong to him, like something a dog should not be doing in that way.

He grunted, a low “woof" bursting from his lips, entirely unbidden, quivering where he was. Even though he could talk...it still felt more natural. He hated that.

Greyin steeled himself. If that was what he had to do, however, to gain release, it was what he would do time after time again.

Greyin could not have repeated what he said that lecture, talking through the vibrating pleasure. The butt plug was relentless and he wanted to lean into it, to stop talking, but with his intelligence returned it was clear what he needed to do to get that final bliss, that final release.

“And to submit to the king... Rrrrooof! Ruff! Woof!"

Oh, he could barely talk sometimes, the pleasure mounting, making his tongue loll out haplessly.

“He will come, he will take... Grrrrooof! Roooof! Wooooofff!"

Oh, those deep grunts and barks and growls were the worst of all, yet he pressed on. He had to get the words out, glancing up at the tyrant, though even then the loathing was fading from his eyes. He could not control his hatred and hold it in his heart for the one who had enslaved him when there was still so much that he could gain. That pleasure, that release... Oh, how it taunted him with the lure of more, trembling just out of his grasp, knowing that he should not have wanted it in public and still craving it all the same.

“That is why... Woof! Woof-woof-woof! It is better... Wuff! To submit... Oh-roooof! To submit to the... The king! Woof-woof-woof-woofwoof_woof_!"

Done... Nearly.

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It had to be close.

Once he finished the lecture...he would have his release. He paused, gasping and grunting, forcing him on. If he finished, if he did well, the strain of it all would go away. The college students would offer their loyalty to the tyrant and all would be well with the world again.

The lecture finished with his chest heaving, wriggling his hips, his humiliation locked in. The tyrant loomed over him, holding the device that controlled his fate.

“What an excellent lecture... And this is your reward, dog."

Greyin heard no more, an overdose of pleasure running through him as his horniness was ramped up again, his intelligence dropping, though it was impossible to tell whether that was due to the drugs infusing him or lust addling his mind. He was broken on all fours, crouching down, hardly able to keep himself on his knees as he whimpered and howled, the sounds that he made, once again, devolving into a more canine manner of speaking, if it could even be called that. He couldn't understand words again that had been flowing more or less freely from him before, though his lips still moved, trying to get them out.

Yet there may have been pleasure tingling through his nervous system, so much that one could have considered it a reward, but there was no end to it. There was no high even as pre-cum splashed out of the chastity cage locked around his sheath, the tip of his cock pressing urgently out against in, whimpering and whining, pawing at his muzzle, struggling to contain the overdose of sensations threatening to overwhelm. All the while, the tyrant loomed, lips stretched in an eerie, knowing grin.

“Is something wrong, dog?"

“Please... Please, let me cum, please, please, oh, please..."

But that was not for him. That was not what the tyrant wanted for him, letting his intelligence decrease again, his words slipping back to whines, which were far more appropriate for a dog. It was the best of an “orgasm" that Greyin would ever again be given, pre-cum pooling on the staging area under his crotch as he heaved and panted, pink tongue lolling uselessly from his muzzle.

“Come now, we have another lecture to attend."

Greyin panted heavily, trying to get out a bark, though a dog like him could not understand why he felt the way he did. All he knew was that he was going somewhere else with his master.

Again, the cycle repeated itself, his master bringing his intelligence back and inviting him to speak to the audience, promising him release, his body aching and trembling for it all the more badly that time. Greyin needed it desperately, shaking his head and resisting, although he gave in all the same. Just who, even a trained assassin, could force themselves back against such an overpowering force?

“Excellent! You finished the lecture – good dog! Now, time for your reward! See, I am a kind ruler too."

Yet the promised release did not come, not even as the pleasure ramped up to torturous levels once more. He did not beg to cum that time, whimpering and slamming his paw-fists into the stage, crying, tears wetting the fur of his cheeks. The humiliation was too much, too bad, his loins aching, nuts churning, nothing able to reach sweet completion. Heat simmered through his body, though he did not remember his first failed orgasm as he was taken before the audience, shown to them as an example of how far an anthro, anyone who opposed the king, could be brought to fall.

As his intelligence was decreased back to a dog, Greyin not understanding the sensations coursing through his body, hips wriggling from the vibrating force of the butt plug, the tyrant smiled down at him.

“Your cum will only be permitted once a year. Not that you will remember this either."

They worked late into the evening and the king delighted in showing him off. Sometimes he was invited to stand, wobbling terribly, for his lectures on his back legs, but it just wasn't natural for Greyin anymore. He moaned as he twisted back and forth, fighting through the pleasure, his cheeks and the soft insides of his ears burning with the humiliation of it all, though it was never something that lasted, considering that his intelligence was easy to push back and away. All it took was a click of a button.

Yet after the final lecture, he was taken away for the ultimate humiliation, shaking and contorting on the floor of the limousine, moaning out loud, shaking his head.

“No... No... Let me... Please, let me... I'll do anything, anything at all..."

The king smiled down at him. There was no light in his eyes.

“You didn't beg the last time. How interesting...and entertaining for me."

Greyin blinked, not understanding even though his intelligence had been returned to him. What did the tyrant mean? What on earth was he saying? He'd never begged before, could not imagine doing so, but he did not recall that he had been promised release every time he gave a lecture only to suffer through pounding pleasure, the butt plug feeling larger and larger each time, and no orgasm. Every one was a failure and he was brought down to a lower level than ever before, kneeling shakily before the tyrant, failing to keep his composure even then.

“P-please," Greyin stuttered, fighting with all his might just to force out the words. “I'll do anything, anything, anything you want..."

He clung to the tyrant's ankles, clawing at him even as the man sneered down at him.

“Silly little dog... I've already got everything I want from you and can make you do anything. But you don't know that, do you?"

Pre-cum lay slick on the floor as a click of a button brought Greyin back to his dog-like state, the light fading from his eyes, back in the mind of a dog and only a dog until the king decreed otherwise. There was no need or any reason for him to have his intelligence, after all, when it was not something that actively benefitted the king at the time.

Yet he had given the king many, many ideas for future lectures to come that could showcase his humiliation even more aptly. And maybe he would not even be allowed that orgasm once a year if his doctor did not state that it was necessary for his dog's health.

The tyrant smiled. It was good to be the king.

To be continued in the final instalment of part three…