Slave Training Pt. 01

At the very least, he had to be there for his friend.

"Hey... Drew?"

The German Shepherd stirred, tail tucked down close to his backside.

"Drew?"

The dog still didn't stir, fear furling and unfurling in the pit of Shane's stomach. And yet he still did not dare move, for fear of the worse.

"Drew!" He hissed, eyes narrowed as if that would carry his voice further without alerting the guards, his volume actually unchanged. "Say something!"

"What?"

The canine frowned, one ear twitching, as he lethargically looked back over his shoulder at the dragon. It was as if every move he made took an inordinate amount of time and effort to complete and the lines of pain running through his young, almost broken, body were clear to see, even in the eyes of a casual observer.

"Jeez, you scared me," Shane muttered. "Thought something was really wrong then."

Drew laughed but there was no humour in the sound.

"You're clear today... What did they do to you?"

Shane flinched.

"Do we need to talk about that?"

"Sometimes you want to talk about it, sometimes you don't. It would be rude of me to assume either way."

That was fair but, in all honesty, it was probably one of the very few fair things that could be found at all in the slaving facility. Leaning back against the bars, the only thing that he could use in the tiny pen where they were locked in like cattle ready for the auction-house, Shane looked up, letting Drew come to what he wanted to say, if he even wanted to say anything.

"What did they make you do today?" Shane asked, trying to push on the conversation, at least a little, for something friendly on the ears. "I was in the gym...and other things earlier."

Drew shook his head tightly, hardly tipping his snout back and forth to complete the motion.

"Tight bondage. For hours. They know I'm not really breaking. They fucked me too until my jaw ached, plastered me in cum. I don't know if my tail hole will ever close up again."

It was almost with a clinical kind of detachment that Drew recounted his day and Shane was there to listen to it all, despite how it filled him with horror. Yet that horror was not the worst of it as he turned his body away from Shane, letting the dog get it all out there, his crotch tingling, cock half-hard, the conditioning taking root deep inside his mind where he could no longer claw it forth, dig it up and get it out of him. There didn't seem to be anything at all he could do to stop his body from reacting as Drew told him about how he'd been dragged up in suspension bondage, like a floating sex toy, used and abused time after time again.

Shane clenched his jaws, turning his head back and forth, slowly, from one side to the other. He had to keep a hold of himself, had to stay in control. It was the only thing keeping him going, that made him think he could get through it, even though he didn't know what in hell he was going to do to get through his terror there at all.

His cock denied him that breakaway, the sense that he could still be himself, know himself. The tales of bondage and how the leather had cut into Drew's skin and fur had him harder and harder, as much as he nodded and made the appropriate noises of sympathy at the other fur. He wanted to put a paw on his cock too but that, at least, was something that he felt somewhat able to hold himself back from. He had to listen to Drew, yes, that was what he had to do. The most important thing he had to do right then and there was to listen to Drew, to help drew, to do everything and anything that he could do for Drew, for Drew was the only thing that mattered to him right then and there, that moment, that time.

Shane swallowed hard, panting lightly, barely swallowing a moan. Why was Drew... Oh, what did it matter anymore?

"Shane, your paw's on your dick again."

The dog sounded resigned as if it was not the first time it had happened, Shane yanking his paw away as if it was on fire, though the only burn left was in his cock, the aching need rising. When had been the last time he'd been allowed to cum? Why did hearing such things... He blushed fiercely, turning his muzzle away as he rubbed his snout. He had to remember who he was, why he was there, the fact that he'd been dragged into the life of slavery against his will.

"I..." The words came thick and slow in Shane's throat, but he knew that Drew was listening. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't be. You can't stop them from taking over your mind here. I won't be able to stop them either. We just have to hang on for as long as possible, fight them, try all we can. Even if..." There was a sigh in the German Shepherd's tone. "Even if there's no hope."

Shane ground his teeth together.

"Don't fucking say that! We can get out of here!"

"Oi - you! Quiet down there!"

Shane quailed, loathing his reaction even as he scooted to the back of the pen, although he managed to wipe the snarl from his lips just in time. That wouldn't do, not with the slaver guard that was about at that time, the stoat with a "weasely" grin (ironically so), his skinny frame nothing to look at. He was a cruel sort and took advantage of the slaves whenever he was on duty, smirking as he eyed up Drew and Shane as if they were pieces of meat. To him, that's all they were - that and numbers, of course. The boy-toys were nothing more to a slaver than what their use and worth could be accounted for.

"You..." He sneered. "Didn't get enough in training, hey, boy? You need to get your head on straight, perhaps down sucking a good cock. You like that, stock-boy? You wanna get your lips on a hot piece of dick?"

He grabbed his own crotch and Shane looked away, turning his muzzle down submissively. It was the only way that he knew to get someone like that to go away, someone who well and truly thought that they were above Shane's station in life. If he wasn't appealing, if he didn't meet the stoat's needs, well...the arsehole would leave him alone. And, in the slave pens, sometimes that was the very best that any slave could hope for.

The stoat scoffed, turning away.

"Fine..." He grumbled. "Bitch stock needs more training."

Shane was a little too well-muscled for his liking anyway as the stoat wanted someone that he could force down, pin down, dominate completely and utterly. There was still a risk to be had with the untrained slaves and he swept his torch down the line of pens, seeking out another unfortunate soul to use and abuse. That time, it proved to be a small puma who huddled at the back of his pen, whimpering and looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else at all in the world, although he did not protest when the stoat grabbed him by the arm.

"Come here, boy," he grunted. "I'll show you what a real cock is... Stock like you must be sick of a dildo up that tight arse of yours by now, hm?"

It wasn't a question that was meant to be answered as the puma hung his head, tail dropping, allowing himself to be led meekly to the night guard's office. There would be others there to use him too and the puma was surely in for a long night. Shane shivered, erection finally softening a little in the cool, night air. He was glad he wasn't in that cat's position. Very glad, even though his body tried to push him towards it, need tingling in the back of his mind, a lingering niche of conditioning that the facility was slowly pushing into him more and more.

But wouldn't it be nice to get a cock back in his mouth, to suck and please and be a good boy?

Shane leaned back, head rolling up to the bars, puffing softly. Yes, it was what he wanted, what he needed, the meat of his fat length of male-flesh throbbing in his paw. How his paw had gotten back there he could not have said but he still moaned out loud, however softly, Drew's eyes fixed on him.

He couldn't help himself. Lacking chastity, as some slaves were sometimes locked into as punishment, he could do as he pleased with himself when there were no watchful, slaver eyes around. And Drew knew that too, sometimes the only pleasure that they could take for themselves being what was forced upon them day in and day out. He was not about to deny Shane that or tell him off for it, letting the dragon pump and work his meat even as the dog's rose to attention too. Of course, Drew did not wear any clothes either. Clothes were something for slavers, for masters, and neither of them could even remember the last time that they'd worn anything that was not fetish gear, for all the good that did them.

"Oh..."

Shane breathed out softly, holding himself back just enough to stifle his pleasure. It was good, so pure, just what he needed all on his own.

"We've got to get out of here."

Shane signed.

"I know, Drew, I know..."

But that was a plan that would only come to be in later times."

*

How much later remained to be seen, however. It was harder and harder for Shane to fight back and push back against the insistent need to obey. It was harder again to get up off his knees and easier than ever to lose himself in sucking a cock. The bear trainer took advantage of him in the showers, shoving Shane back into the bitterly cold water, something that was kept such so that the slaves would not get used to creature comforts like hot water again while they were there. By the time they left, that was all that they would know and that was a good starting point for any slave. As if anyone, let alone any self-respecting master, would let a slave use up valuable hot water, regardless of their position in the world...

It was hard to think, let alone breathe, as he sucked down that length of bear-meat, the driving length of his cock pushing up into the back of Shane's throat. He hacked and gagged but that was just something that let his trainer know that he needed more practice in deep-throating cock, so much more practise, and the bear slammed in harder and faster than ever, forcing him to take every last inch of it even if he was not ready.

But he was not broken. As much as his body helplessly responded, knowing just how to move and how to act to get the bear to climax more swiftly, his mind rebelled. He could not slink and sink away from the present moment but he could rest sure in the knowledge that all, like so much else, would come to pass. His escape plan with Drew bolstered him up, at least a little, and he clung to that to the exclusion of all else as the thick pole slid over his tongue. His tongue reacted too, curling up and around, a little slenderer and more dextrous than that of some of the other slaves there, but that only meant that he could do more still to please whoever was acting as his master at that particular time.

The thick length of meat pushed up over his tongue. In a way, Shane liked it, being the type of dragon that enjoyed male company in better times. If he didn't think, barely considered the implications of what he was doing, he could slip away, pretend that he was pleasing a lover or something like that, someone that cared about him. With a low, lusty moan, the dragon slipped down and down and down, the water seeping into his scales, moisturising and re-hydrating them as he sucked down that cock. It was all that was left in the world for him at that moment, the dick of a master cramming up into the back of his throat, driving in hard and fast, using his mouth as nothing more than a hole to be fucked. Drooling, Shane shuddered bodily, the chill setting off his scales. Was there anything else that a slave could be?

No, no... No, he was a slave and the bear was his master, the one he had to please above all else. Just suck, yes, keep sucking, keep pleasing, treat him like the king he was.

Not even with himself in body or spirit, Shane's mind drifted, the chemicals that the water of the showers had been infused with seeping into him, though the bear was rendered immune to it, having been vaccinated against everything that The Engineer had purchased. It was all, of course, used to ensure the compliance of the slaves and he ground and thrust with wanton abandon into a broken slut's muzzle as Shane hacked and gagged, his need to breathe conflicting with the rising, all-encompassing desire to suck cock.

There was nothing the dragon could do as his hair was grabbed, very nearly torn from his scalp, not seeing, not breathing, only feeling every hot spurt of cum flowing down his throat as he gulped and gulped, eager to please. That was what they liked - it didn't matter if he couldn't breathe, chest tight, oh no. All that mattered was that he was a good boy, a good toy, a dragon on his knees set to please a better male, a stud and a master, than he could ever be. Slick cum twirled over his tongue as the bear pulled back, spending the last spurts over Shane's muzzle, although he did not draw back in time to give him a true facial, further debasing and humiliating him as the dragon gasped. To him, it did not bring the shudder of revulsion, under those circumstances, that it should have done but Shane took a deep breath, exhaled in a contented sigh, licking that cum off his face with as much reach as his tongue could get while the shower took care of the rest.

The slaver smirked, tail twitching with prideful dominance. But the day was getting on and there were only so many liberties that could be taken until it interfered with what the stock items needed to be doing during the day. Training, of course, was to be completed with outstanding accomplishments.

"To class, stock-boy."

Hauling him upright while he still gasped, the bear threw him in the fur and scale drying machine (the most efficient way to dry off slaves that were needed for use again very shortly) and chuckled at his discomfort, jets of air blasting him from all directions. The slaver licked his lips, eyeing up the hot piece of dragon-flesh as he was tossed about, barely able to keep his balance as the air blasts, cruelly, were turned up. All the while, his cock jerked and bobbed as if he was trying to put on a show, juddering and flinching as a stray droplet of pre-cum too went flying off.

The taste of cum remained heavy and heady in Shane's mouth as he was led to the classroom, not that far from the gym if he remembered correctly. But, even though a part of him knew that he had been down the other white-washed hallways and more, he couldn't tell what had been in them or what he had done there, his mind foggy and over swept by sensation. Even the tread of his bare hind paws on the cool tile (easily cleaned) was too much for him as he groaned in the back of his throat, his hard cock leading the way as a collar that was a little too tight closed in furiously around his neck. That never changed but, after cleaning him off brutally, the slave-handler had made sure to buckle it up an extra notch, showing him his place. And Shane knew well enough too that his place would forever be on his knees.

Bondage was the name of the game and Shane blinked to find a German Shepherd, who both looked familiar and unfamiliar to his eye at the same time, strung up in suspension, his arms and legs spread-eagled. A latex harness scooped around his torso and abdomen took the brunt of his weight but a ball gag shoved in his mouth ensured that he would not be able to talk or voice any complaints. Even though he was not twisting and thrashing when Shane got there, the lines and marks on his body, fur matted with the stink of sweat, told a tale of a struggle beforehand, though a little more of the fire in the canine's eyes had gone out.

Kneeling obediently on the floor as a pair of Komodo dragons - Shane thought they were brothers - took centre-stage, the dragon shook his head minutely at Drew. Didn't the canine know that he had to be good for them, their owners? Anyone who was not a slave could act as their owner and, well, they had to please above all else. Bad things happened when they didn't and didn't it feel so very good too to please? There were others in the class of sorts too: a stag, a black panther, an okapi, a pit bull and a ram. He hadn't seen them before but a sense of soft camaraderie washed over him, warming him from the inside out. All of them...his fellow slaves. Was that not a fine thing indeed?

"Stock! Pay attention!"

Shane knelt up a little straighter, ears pricked attentively. The taller of the Komodo dragons smirked, his long tongue rasping out against the side of his muzzle, the two of them lean and yet still muscular, fit and deadly at the same time.

"In training today, you will be using a bound slave for a master's pleasure. Slave six-oh-three, here, has kindly volunteered to demonstrate for you."

The slaver smirked and ran his paw down Drew's back, over his sweaty fur, as the canine growled and glared viciously, teeth showing around the fat, red ball gag. Rolling his eyes, the trainer wiped off his paw on the dog's coat - his chest where he had not sweated through quite as much. Standing nearly vertical, the dog was perfectly poised for whatever anyone was ordered to do to him, although everyone well enough knew too that his muzzle would not be needed, in that instance, for the pleasure of a supposed watching master.

Shane shivered, his mind twisting back and forth, writhing and struggling. Why did it feel as if it could be good to be in Drew's position? He didn't like that, he was sure he didn't like that... And yet it was as hard as it had ever been to simply think straight, watching the dog hover there as if suspended by an otherworldly hand, his cock swollen and ready, kept so by the ring of a cock ring banded around the base. Only time would tell how long he would be left there, kept in bondage, needy and wanton.

Without thinking, even as he quailed and pulled back physically, Shane moaned. It was wrong but it was right and the pounding of his heart did not clarify that for him either way. His head was so dazed, so very foggy, but he could not rub his temples for even the modicum of relief, for that alone would upset his trainer. And he couldn't have that, now, could he?

His shifting wriggles and squirms attracted the attention of the second brother, tongue flickering out as if tasting something on the air.

"Dragon... You will do. Demonstrate oral."

The orders were given coolly, clinically, and Shane was up on his scaled hind paws before his mind had caught up with what he had been instructed to do. All there was for him was obedience and sucking cock was not such a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. Drew's hard shaft rose desperately before him, drooling pre-cum - most likely due to the vibrator shoved up under his tail, a little prelude for the stretching that was to come. It was there and open in invitation, he would have been a fool not to take it for his own. If slaves could even do that, that was...

No. Drew's shaft pushed up over his tongue as Shane delved down, swallowing him up into the back of his throat, better that time at controlling his gag reflex. The dog's meat was a full mouthful of cock but that only made it all the better for Shane in the heat of the moment, panting and grunting softly as he devoured all that was offered for him. He sucked him down and swirled his tongue around, the act of giving oral coming more easily to him when it was with something that felt "okay" in his mind. There was no great sense of being friendly or more with the canine but there was something there, something more than had been present with his handler, and he did all that he could for him, bobbing his head quickly as if he had perhaps been tasked with getting the dog off as quickly as possible.

Alas, for the both of them, there was no such pleasure to come as the pressure built and built within Drew. Shane was experienced enough by that point in the art of sucking cock to know when another male was getting close to climax and the steaming kettle hissed and writhed above him, shaking in his bondage. But, like was the case with their situation in slavery, no escape could possibly be had for Drew, the dog that had been strung up like a piece of meat to be enjoyed, forced to endure, over and over again, coming to the brink of orgasm while Shane kept on and on. After all, the drake had not been ordered to stop and so he would continue giving the German Shepherd head until he was told otherwise.