Sweet Escape

I

Colton strode up to the bar and took a seat, flagging down the bartender to order a drink. It had been a long day at work, and he really needed to just unwind and let go. Maybe meet some hot guys while he was at it too. He took a sip of his screwdriver and scanned around the bar, eyes flicking by the pride flag on the wall and a table full of older leather daddies toward the back. He didn't notice one of them staring right back at him with a growing smile on his face.

The muscle-bound boy took another sip and sighed. It was hard to go on like this, day in and day out at the same service job. All to make sure he could pay his bills to keep going to the same service job in functioning shape over and over again, it was just exhausting. He found his thoughts drifting away from the bar and toward a long-held fantasy, one that would liberate him from the constraints of his nine-to-five. It had been his wildest dream for years, the one he would always tell his partners about and wish to really be possible.

Colton wanted to be a dog. A real, proper dog, with his human brain and obligations nothing but a long-distant memory that he couldn't comprehend. Whenever his hand drifted down between his legs in bed at night, that was the first thought to come into his head; what it would feel like for his body to change shape at the push of a button, how the fur would feel growing in, the new owner he would serve forever as a loyal pet. His breath quickened and he found himself looking over at the table of leather daddies, and now he saw one of them meeting his gaze. Colton shot him an awkward little smile, and the man stood up and walked toward him.

"Hi there hot stuff," the man said, his voice low and gravelly. Colton felt butterflies in his stomach but steeled himself and tried not to let the excitement show. "Hey," he replied. "I love your vest, really shows off your arms." The man smiled. "I can tell, I could see you staring at them from across the room." Colton's cheeks got hot and he bit his lip, and the man took a seat on the stool next to him. He was definitely older than Colton, with a beard flecked with gray and a shaved head, but he was still well-built and could probably overpower the younger man if he wanted to.

Colton didn't get physically outmatched much, and the idea that this man could really render him properly helpless set off fireworks in his brain. The man rested a gloved hand on Colton's thigh, massaging it. "You look like someone who needs his anxieties taken away, pup," he said, his smile growing. Colton's breaths got shallower. Does he know somehow? The man continued, moving his hand up Colton's leg. "Feel free to stop me if I'm wrong, but I think the puppy's tired of being a human, sitting here at the bar sighing to himself, all alone." He nodded in response without thinking, willing the man's hand to continue on its journey toward his bulge. The man clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Poor thing. Just a needy beast trapped in the body of a human, forced to live as one despite not being one. Does that sound like you, boy?" Another nod. Colton's thoughts and inhibitions felt further away by the second, lulled under by this vision of masculinity running circles around him.

"I can fix that, you know," the man whispered directly in Colton's ear. The boy's cock jumped to life in his pants. "H how?" he stammered out, embarrassed over how weak and desperate his voice sounded. The man just smiled inscrutably, pulling his hand away just before he took a grip of Colton's bulge. The boy whined softly, and the leather daddy laughed. "How about we go home and I can show you?" Colton nodded hard, his eyes shining with joy. "What should I call you?" he asked, looking up at the taller man. He smiled and extended a hand to the pup. "Call me Master, boy."

Colton followed as the man led him out of the bar, his head spinning. "M Master... please make me your dumb puppyslave," he whimpered, his cock straining away in his pants. "I'll be such a good boy for you, please?" The man laughed again, a deep, booming sound that sent goosebumps rippling across Colton's body. "Oh you don't want to just be a puppy," he said with a growl in his tone. He grabbed Colton and shoved him face-first against the wall of the bar, wrenching his arms behind his back. "You want to be a slave." He pulled out a pair of police-issue handcuffs and locked them around Colton's wrists, drawing an enchanted moan from his throat. "Yes..." Colton breathed out, grinding his bulge against the wall. He didn't care if it hurt, he didn't care that the cuffs were tight. It just felt so right to submit to this man.

Master took a firm grip of his arm and dragged him to his car, popping open the trunk. Colton's eyes went wide as he pulled out a roll of duct tape and wrapped his ankles together, pushing him down into the trunk. "Slaves don't get to ride in the seats, especially not puppyslaves like you." He grabbed the gym bag next to Colton's head and pulled out a used, sweaty jockstrap, stuffing it in his captive's mouth. The bound boy moaned but didn't do anything to resist beyond that as the man wrapped the tape around his head to keep it sealed inside. "Puppyslaves definitely don't get to speak, either."

He slammed the trunk shut and walked around to the driver's seat, starting up the car and pulling out of the lot. Colton's head was spinning. 20 minutes ago he was a free man alone at a bar with another long work week ahead of him, now he was a helpless captive seemingly destined for a life of degrading servitude. He moaned and humped against the floor of the trunk, utterly overcome by his hormones. This was everything he could've possibly wished for! He had no way to escape, no idea where he was going, he didn't even know who Master was. All he knew was that he wanted more.

It wasn't too long of a drive, and soon the man pulled into his garage and killed the engine. He popped the trunk to reveal his new slave, the front of his pants soaked with precum. He grabbed Colton's bulge, and the bound boy squealed into his gag. "What a little fucking faggot," Master growled. He picked the boy up and threw him over his shoulder, and Colton's mind washed away in bliss. Most people couldn't manhandle him like this, but Master did it without breaking a sweat. Colton doubted he was the first boy who'd been shown into Master's home like this, but he still felt special. Like he was chosen to serve this man by divine destiny.

The man carried him down into the basement and dropped him onto a leather dentist's chair. "Now, I'm going to undo your bonds so you can be positioned for your conditioning," Master said. "If you try to fight me or run away, I'll put you in a fucking wheelchair. Got it?" Colton nodded. He had no intention of resisting this god among men. The man unlocked his handcuffs and cut Colton free of the tape binding his ankles and gag, but he kept the jockstrap in place. "That isn't going anywhere, fagboy," he growled. He replaced the tape around Colton's head with a padded leather muzzle, keeping his new slave silent, wet, and needy.

He shoved Colton back into the chair with more force than necessary, knocking the wind out of him. Dazed, the boy could only watch as Master strapped his arms to the rests, three heavy leather belts for each arm. He tugged on them, testing their security, and found to his delight that he stood no chance of breaking out. The man paid him little mind, moving on to strapping down his torso, legs, neck, and head. He even put smaller straps around each of his fingers and toes. Colton was utterly motionless, and he let out a defeated little whimper as he realized how easy it had been for Master to abduct him like this. "You're never getting away, puppyslave," the man whispered in his ear. "Welcome to your new home."

He brandished a knife and cut away Colton's clothes, leaving him naked with his straining cock on display. "Puppyslaves don't get clothes. Puppyslaves don't get freedom. Puppyslaves don't get anything but what they fucking deserve," Master said as he turned to a panel full of buttons and blinking lights embedded in the wall. "You want to be a dog. You want to be an owned slave toy. I'm going to make both of those dreams come true and banish you from life among the humans. You aren't one, and you never were."

Colton moaned into his gag, squirming against the straps in a desperate attempt to reach his cock and get off on his captivity. Master noticed and laughed, and now it took on a harsh tone. "Oh are you trying to cum, you stupid little faggot?" Colton nodded, as much as he could nod with the straps around his neck and forehead. "Not a fucking chance, bitch. Puppyslaves don't get to cum. They get to stay denied and needy and desperate, so they can be the slutty little whores they're meant to be." Colton wailed. He wanted to cum!

Master turned and loomed over him, wrapping a hand around Colton's cock. "This is the last time I'll ever touch this pathetic little thing, faggot," he said. "This isn't your real sex organ anyway. That needy fucking hole is. This is getting locked away forever, and you're never going to see or touch it again." Colton tried to be upset about that, he really did, but all that came out was a desperate moan. "That's what I fucking thought, cunt."

The man hit more buttons on the panel, and a strange metal probe folded down from the ceiling in front of Colton. "This lovely little device is going to make you into what you truly are, faggot," he said, his voice nonchalant. "Kiss your human self goodbye, boy. I never got your name, did I? Oh well, it's not like it matters anymore. You won't remember it in a minute." Colton's breath quickened, his heart hammering in his chest. The probe lit up with a strange, otherworldly green glow. "Last chance for human thoughts, puppyslave!"

Please take me, Master.

II

tColton blinked, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Fuck, my head, he thought. He felt like he'd downed three bottles of whiskey and spent an hour beating his face against a brick wall. Last night felt fuzzy. He remembered talking to the sexy leather daddy at the bar, he remembered calling him Master, but everything else after that was something of a blur. Was there a memory of... barking in there somewhere? A wagging tail maybe?

No, that couldn't be it, that had to be a dream. That stuff wasn't possible. He must've just flirted with the leather daddy and then gone home to get some sleep for another tedious day at work, not wanting to take the risk. He opened his eyes, expecting to see his bedroom with his boyfriend asleep next to him, but instead he saw thick steel bars. Floor to ceiling, each at least two inches thick, and three concrete walls on all other sides.

Colton sat bolt upright, only for a chain locked to the steel collar around his neck to yank him back down. He gagged, his hands flying up to his throat. The collar was heavy, and the chain couldn't have been more than a foot long. It was welded to a bolt in the floor, and the chain links were heavy-duty steel. Nothing he could do would have any effect on that chain, he was well and truly stuck there.

He whimpered. There was a thick black steel door behind the bars to his cell, with a small barred window at the top allowing in a faint trickle of light. He laid on top of a surprisingly plush dog bed, with a weighted blanket tucked around him. The blanket itself was chained to anchor points in the walls, serving as a crude, yet effective restraint mechanism. Between that and the chain running off of his collar, Colton was stuck curled up on the floor.

The muscular boy winced as his cock reacted to his confinement, only to be harshly suppressed by the cage it was locked in. Just like everything else about his imprisonment, the cage was solid steel. He couldn't see it, but there was a brand-new Prince Albert ring in the head of his cock to keep the cage in place, with a thin steel belt running around his waist to serve as an additional anchor.

Colton opened his mouth to call out for his jailor, but all that came out was a loud bark. The boy gasped and recoiled. He hadn't meant to bark! He tried again, but he got another bark. Panic welled up in his chest. Fuck fuck fuck, what's happening to me?! Help! Help! HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE!

"WRUFF WRUFF AWRUFF! AWRUFF! AWROOOOOO!"

He tried to sit up again so he could maybe find a way out of this and fix whatever his captor had done to his vocal cords, but that damn chain locked to his collar kept him from doing anything. Pulling on it harder just made him choke, and all that produced was painful strains in his chastity cage.

The night before was coming back in fits and starts. Colton remembered being taped up in the leather daddy's trunk. He remembered feeling overpowered and weak for maybe the first time in his life. He remembered that weird green glow, but after that? Nothing. Clearly it did SOMETHING to him if he couldn't properly speak anymore, but Colton knew deep down that it didn't just mess up his voice. That device did much more to him, even if he couldn't remember exactly what it was. Fear and arousal fought for control in Colton's mind, and he whined.

Heavy footfalls came from the ceiling of Colton's cell, and he whimpered. Surely the man who did all this to him would only make it worse, but the idea of Master still felt comforting in the face of all this uncertainty. The image of him filled Colton's mind. Massive and muscular, shaved head and salt-and-pepper beard, an ever-present arrogant smile, and a commanding air of authority that made the muscular puppyboy want to do anything he said.

The boots came down the stairs, and Colton heard the sound of jingling keys outside his cell. The door swung open to reveal Master. He wore nothing but a black bathrobe, carrying a mug of coffee with a pair of glasses perched atop his nose. If anything, he looked even more intimidating outside of his leather attire. His aura of control didn't go anywhere free of kink gear, it was just a defining part of his being.

"Good morning faggot, he said, making no move to open the second door of heavy bars keeping Colton imprisoned. "I hope you like your new bedroom, you won't be sleeping anywhere else until I'm sure you can be trusted." Colton's stomach dropped and he barked. Trusted with what? He had a life, he had a boyfriend, he couldn't just be a prisoner here! He growled and barked furiously at his captor, but the man just chuckled and pulled a small remote out of his pocket.

Colton's collar sparked, and the trapped boy howled. Master took a sip of his coffee as he pressed the button again, more sparks sinking into his prisoner's neck. The brown-haired boy clawed at the collar, whining and thrashing around under the weighted blanket, but Master just kept hitting the button. He gave it eight presses before he relented, letting his captive catch his breath.

"I assume you're trying to plead with me that you have a life you can't just throw away," Master said, his tone dismissive. "I want you to know that I don't give a shit, faggot. You should've thought about that before you went home with a stranger. The only people who know you're down here want to use you like a cheap whore. I already destroyed your phone, and my friends are disposing of your car and identifying documents as I speak. For all the world knows, you have ceased to exist as a human being."

Colton's breaths grew shallow and sweat trickled down his body. He couldn't be serious, could he? This kind of thing didn't happen in real life, guys weren't just kidnapped from bars and turned into sex slaves! But it certainly seemed like Master was serious, and Colton was too scared of the shock collar to try protesting again. His eyes welled up with tears. Fantasizing about this was one thing, but doing it was... was... fuck, it was even better.

Master watched the war in his prisoner's eyes and smirked.

"You and I both know that this is what you really want, fag," he growled, unlocking the inner door to Colton's cell. "You don't want an independent human life, with equal relationships, jobs, responsibilities, friends who see you as more than a set of holes. You want to be a slave to a real man, don't you mutt?" Without thinking, Colton nodded. Master was right, of course he was right. He wouldn't be here if he didn't want to be a real man's rightful property. Master was just doing him the courtesy of making him follow through on his dreams.

Master carefully unfastened all the locks keeping Colton trapped in his cell, then looped a finger through the solid ring on the front of his collar and looked him dead in the eye. There was not a trace of mirth or levity on his face, and the submissive boy could not look away.

"Your puppyslave training begins today, Lumi," he said, dragging him up to his knees. The boy instinctively held his hands behind his back. "That is your name now, Lumi. I want you to forget any other name you've used before, they no longer apply to you. Do as I say and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams and shown awe-inspiring dimensions of submission. Disobey me, and you will learn what true suffering is. Do you understand, faggot?"

Lumi nodded, his mouth hanging open. He'd played with plenty of dominant men before, men who really knew their way around a scene. But none of them chilled him to the bone or excited him quite like Master. It was like he reached into Lumi's subconscious, rooted around in it, and dragged out every last degrading fantasy hidden within.

"Now come, mutt," Master said, turning and walking toward the stairs. "You need nourishment if you're going to take what I have planned for you." Lumi followed along behind him, not daring to get up on his hind legs. Not only was he sure Master would be displeased, but it just felt wrong. Slaves don't walk upright like real men, and puppies don't walk upright like real men. Puppyslaves don't even think about walking upright like real men.

Negotiating with the stairs was awkward, but Lumi managed to clamber his way up them to the well-polished wood floors of the main level of Master's home. He saw two other men bound up in metal like him, one cooking in the kitchen, the other scrubbing the floor in the living room on his hands and knees. In addition to their matching heavy steel collars and cages, they wore massive shackles around their wrists and ankles as well as heavy leather muzzles locked onto their faces.

"You aren't my only faggot slave, mutt," Master said, groping the cooking slave's ass. "But you won't be responsible for chores like these boys. They're still subhumans, close enough to equals that they can pass as such if need be. That's not what I have in mind for you, puppyslave. Nobody's going to mistake you for even a subhuman. You are something far, far lesser."

He led Lumi over to the corner of the living room, where food and water bowls marked FAGGOT awaited him. He bit his lip and whined, but Master brandished the collar remote and cocked an eyebrow. Lumi yelped and scampered over, burying his face in the food bowl. It would be ridiculous to use his forepaws for such a task, puppies didn't eat with their hands.

It looked just like typical puppy kibble, but it tasted amazing. It wasn't quite as crunchy as Lumi expected, and it had a tangy aftertaste that drove him wild. It felt a little silly, but he really leaned into it. He scarfed down his food, snarling and huffing and barking with a full mouth, lapping up water whenever his mouth dried out. He made quite a mess of himself, but he didn't care. Master was filming him, but he didn't care. This felt so right.

He finished his meal and he returned to his Master's side, dropping his butt down on his hindpaws and looking up at him with adoration in his eyes. The fear and regret that had plagued him just half an hour before already seemed like a distant memory. In fact, everything from before this morning felt weirdly hazy. Lumi swayed in place, tingles coursing through his body. It didn't occur to him that this could be anything out of the ordinary.