In the Den of the Beast

I whimpered as I felt his fingers entered me cautiously a few times, first one, then two or three. Was he going to whip my exposed ass? Was that my punishment? Was "wearing the tail" getting whipped? He was fingerfucking my hole harder now, and he spit on it several times until it was hot and wet.

Suddenly, I felt something cool and smooth slide into me and I understood what the tail was. The large metal ball at the other end allowed the device to serve as a sort of butt-plug, with the shape of the hook allowing the whip end to stick straight up like a tail. It must have been adjustable, because I heard a click and then James rammed it even further inside me. I could feel the metal ball rubbing against my prostate, and after the initial shock it was mind-numbingly erotic. I shook my ass to help it settle in, enjoying the leather strips slapping on my haunches.

I found the tail surprisingly easy to accommodate, and once inserted it stayed pretty firmly settled. I had thought there was no way that metal ball could fit inside me, but it seemed my hole was more flexible now, but also able to squeeze and hold tighter when something was inside. This made sense with the "knot" James and I now had - he could now enter without hurting me and I could hold him inside. Part of me wanted to test this theory right away, but for now I would be satisfied practicing control with this "tail."

James patted me on the head again and returned to the kitchen, where he was drinking black coffee and chewing at fatty, undercooked bacon while sitting at a barstool and reading the paper. I kind of wanted him to throw me some bacon, but he shook his head and smiled. I left him to his meal and wandered back into the front room to do some exploring. I was swiftly distracted by two things:

First, I discovered that I could move and adjust my tail by tightening and flexing my muscles in a certain way. The first time I did this, the ball inside me shifted and rubbed me in such a way that my new designer penis couldn't help but twitch to life. The second distraction only intensified this excitement, since for the first time I was able to focus on the sofa and really take the time to smell it properly.

I was transported back to my first night in the apartment, when I was worried James was going to fuck me so hard I would bleed out and die. The furniture had since been wiped clean, but I could still smell every drop of sweat and every bead of his glorious cum. Burying my face in the cushions, I was able to imagine he was entering me again, and I wriggled with excitement at the thought that I might do something which would please him enough to earn a repeat performance.

When James came out of the kitchen after finishing his breakfast, he found me humping the couch cushions excitedly, howling with pleasure. He pulled me off and lifted me up into the air as if I weighed nothing, although I kept uselessly trying to thrust my hips into the air, only further maddened by the fact that I could now smell him in person. Looking down, I was oddly proud to see that my cock was easily a foot long and impressively hard, the network of veins prominent even against my new, darker coloring. The glans was particularly swollen, now free of foreskin and gleaming with a slickness of pre-cum.

James held me to the floor on my back and shoved an ice pack between my legs, rendering me immobile as my excited member slowly receded from the violent cold. My balls ached. I desperately wanted to spill my load in the couch, on his face, anywhere. Instead, he shook his head and swatted me on the nose.

"Bad dog!" he scolded. "Not on the furniture."

I whined and tapped my hand in submission. He let go of me and got up to put the ice pack away, leaving me to writhe pathetically on the floor, blue balls flopping side to side. My tail was still firmly inserted and had stayed in place even as I lay on my back, but the leather handle and straps of the whip were now tucked between my legs. James was still lecturing me, although his voice was distant as he moved into a different part of the house.

"That's two things you need to be punished for now, since I haven't forgotten about your little accident. If I don't punish you, you'll never learn how to behave yourself like a good little boy. I don't like it, too, but this is going to have to be how we start."

He came back into the room holding a small, complicated-looking tangle of metal wiring and fine mesh which he held cupped in his hands. Before I could offer any resistance, he pinned me to the floor again with his bare knee and grabbed my hungry cock just as Luca had at the vet's office, prizing apart my pee-slit to insert a metal ball that was many, many times smaller than the one currently plugging my ass. This metal ball was connected to what James deftly snapped into place as a sturdy metal cage around my cock, with segmented and interlinking circular bars all down the shaft and a little mesh sack for my balls.

Once he locked it into place and stood up, there was nothing I could do to break free. Desperately, I pawed at it trying to break free. The stimulation from my tail was still driving me mad and, just like with the insertion of Luca's thermometer, the presence of something actually inside my urethra felt ridiculously good after the initial twinge of pain. However, the unyielding metal cage prevented me from developing a proper hard-on, although I found myself straining against it so much that the wires started to cut into my delicate head and shaft.

"That should help you behave yourself while we go to the dog park," remarked James, satisfied. "We can't have you terrorizing the other puppies."

After a few minutes of straining, I gave in and got up properly, adjusting my tail and allowing James to brush my hair gently. He led me to a bathroom where he had me stand at the mirror while he brushed my teeth and washed my face. Obediently, I allowed him to reintroduce my red ball gag and fit me with a harness that consisted of two spiked straps similar to my collar that criss-crossed in an "X" shape with metal rings on the center of my chest and back. He attached my leash to this harness instead of the collar, which put less strain on my neck than I felt being led around by Claudia.

I sat patiently watching James get dressed in a tight blue shirt, black athletic shorts, and sneakers. I noticed that he didn't wear any socks or underwear. When he was dressed, I nudged him with my head which made him smile.

"Alright, boy," he said, picking up my leash and grabbing his wallet and keys. "Let's go."

8: The Punishment

The "dog park" actually turned out to be a large gym that was part of the apartment complex, so we did not have to go very far. When we arrived, James removed my gag, leash, and tail and placed them in sterilized bags in a plastic tub with his apartment number printed on it. I was still wearing my collar, new harness, and the damned cock cage.

It was actually a lot like a normal gym, except that everyone was more attractive than normal and about half of the people there were completely naked. James led me from machine to machine, explaining what to do and complimenting me on every set of reps. We rotated around the room, mostly ignoring the other patrons and focusing on each other and the workout. In no time, we were covered in thick sheen of sweat, which smelled amazing. I had forgotten all about the cock cage and for long moments even forgot everything else. Other than my nakedness, we were just two normal guys working out.

James went and got a huge, 64-oz bottle of water for us to share. We passed it back and forth as we ended the workout with some light cardio at a pair of treadmills by the door. He let me drink out of the bottle and everything. As much as I enjoyed some of the sex stuff, I really loved this moment with him. It was like chatting with Claudia in the car the other day - having a comfortable, normal time with a friend.

He patted me on the back, telling me I had done a great job, to finish the water, and that he'd be right back. I watched as James walked confidently over to someone working at one of the machines. When she sat up, I saw it was a gorgeously fit black woman with a pile of braids on her head wearing stretch pants and a sports bra. She rested her head on her hand as she listened to James speak, balancing her elbow on one thick, muscular thigh. When he finished, she smiled and nodded before turning her head to say something back. I wish I could hear what they were saying.

I hastily gulped down the last mouthful of water as James returned.

"Good news!" he said, all smiles. "I've made a plan for the other half of your punishment. Olivia is going to help us out."

I was roughly toweled off and the gag, leash, and tail were reintroduced to my mouth, back, and anus. James led me to the door but told me to sit and wait.

We watched the beautiful black woman finish her set and then wipe the sweat from her forehead. Olivia then walks away, disappearing into a back room of the gym only to return a few moments later leading her own "dog."

I was surprised to recognize the face of Rich, the man from the apartment above James. Rich's long hair is pulled into a ponytail and his beard has been carefully combed; both are tied into bows with velvet ribbon. He has a soft belly and an impressive mat of curly brown hairs on his chest and back. What I had thought at the time was just a necklace turned out to be a collar like mine, although his is green and covered in rhinestones rather than spikes. His gag is green, and his "tail" is not in separate strips like a cat o' nine tails, but instead one stiff, plastic rod that tapers to a point. I don't find him to be particularly attractive, but he seems attentive to Olivia and is well-groomed.

James leads me out of the dog park and the woman urges Rich to follow us. He shuffles over to me and sniffs at the base of my tail respectfully but maintains a safe distance. I notice he is not wearing a cage around his cock. It is entirely bright purple and seems short and stubby but particularly wide and stout, with a huge head and a greater girth than even James. His bush is meticulously clean but long and dense, the curls matching those that decorate his chest and back.

We walk like we're going back to James's apartment, but instead head upstairs to what I assume is Olivia's because she is the one to open the door as she unfastens Rich's leash. He rushes over and waits patiently on a rug near the door as James leads me inside and undoes my leash as well.

Olivia's apartment is much warmer than James's, and the air smells of jasmine and some kind of cooking oil. It seems to have an identical layout, so I already feel familiar and kind of at home.

"You two be good," instructs Olivia. "Play nice with each other. We're just going to go talk."

She and James disappear in the direction of the bedroom, leaving me with Rich. We're both still gagged and too well-behaved to remove them ourselves, so we after a little more sniffing we wait quietly, anticipating what's going to come. He looks sympathetically at my cock cage, as if remembering enduring a similar punishment.

Olivia returns alone, now wearing a skintight catsuit of olive green latex that has two cutouts which expose her enormous brown breasts and her already wettened pussy, which is wreathed in a thick tangle of black hair. I must be staring, having never properly seen a naked woman before. She gives me an indulgent smile as she beckons for us to follow her into the bedroom. In this moment, I want nothing more than to bury myself in her lap and drink in that powerful, heady scent I can already almost taste.

James is, of course, standing naked in the middle of the room. Olivia's bedroom seem similar in layout and furnishing although everything feels softer, gentler, perhaps less primal. James's dramatic red chaise lounge is instead a fussy little white pouf, which James commands me to go lie down next to.

"Now, listen carefully," he tries to bark and be all tough, but he trembles ever-so-slightly as if a little reluctant or nervous. "This is because you made a mess in the hallway and were naughty with my furniture. That means even though I still love you, you were a bad dog. Every time you're a bad dog, we have to swat your bottom."

Olivia was now sitting in the pouf with her legs together. She hoists me up so my chest is balanced on her lap and my knees are still on the floor, my bare bottom is dangling out in the air. The cock cage presses useless between her leg and the seat. My tail is removed with a small pop.

With no warning, Olivia strikes my tender cheeks with the cat o' nine tails, the lashes stinging my vulnerable haunches. The pain is not focused on one area, but my whole ass is on fire as she strikes again, then three, four times. Every time I squirm she holds me tighter, gripping my harness to pull my ass closer to her and force my head closer to the wall.

I'm not able to watch from this position, but I can hear the whip whistling through the air. I take twenty lashes, knowing the skin on my bottom is now red and probably covered in welts. Rubbing against the latex is an odd sensation, and I'm not at all aroused. Especially since my prostate is no longer being stimulated by the tail and because I'm in such immense pain, my cock has shrunk away from the sides of its cage and is now rattling around pathetically.

Foolishly, I assume that when the lashes are done it's all over, but I am dead wrong. Olivia forces me into a slightly different position that spreads my legs more, exposing my hole. When she strikes me again, it's with what feels like a small paddle. She whacks each cheek a few times, forcing my ass to suffer the marks from the cat o' nine tails being hit again, but quickly moves on to directly paddling my hole. The pain is immense, a solid, heavy sort of ache that feels entirely different from the short, hot stings of the whip.

"Naughty boy," she's saying. "That's right, you were a naughty, naughty boy. I like watching your tight little hole pucker like that, you bad dog. Oh yeah, you were a bad dog."

I moan loudly from the back of my throat and hear James's voice.

"I think that's enough. He did just have surgery yesterday." I am pleased by the genuine concern in his voice, which causes my ears to perk up. He thought he had to punish me but now he's worried, the old softie.

Olivia throws the paddle aside and sits me up so that I'm in the middle of the seat, staring at Rich and James. I want to twist away and go join them, but she holds me fast, wrapping her strong legs around me and prising legs apart so the shameful cage is on display. I can feel her rubbing her damp groin against my tailbone and feel hair, latex, skin, fingernails on my back and chest. I wish I wasn't sitting, since my bottom is still far too tender from its recent punishment.

James is removing Rich's tail and forcing him onto what looks like a low coffee table, although it has a circular cutout into which Rich inserts his genitals as he lays flat on his belly. The legs of this table seem to easily contract and expand, because James only has to lift certain sections and click things into place to make it into something more like a ramp, with Rich's head all the way down at the floor but his ass, legs, and upside-down penis dangling in the air. Already, Rich was squealing in delight, a strange noise from the older man.

"Watch," whispered to Olivia. "This is what good boys get. If you had been a good boy, this could be you right now."

My stomach churned as I watched James grip his perfect cock in his right fist and pump it confidently a few times. I was transfixed by its slight curve and gently building power. It was only partially engorged, and still relatively normal-looking for human genitals. He kept tugging at it idly as he stooped to bury his face in the forest of Rich's hairy ass, probing deeply with his tongue and licking all around the hole. The special, gooey saliva that he drooled was soon covering everything.

James used a similar fingering technique to what I had experienced when he was preparing me to accept the tail: gradually building up the number of fingers inserted, although with Rich he kept going until he got a full fist. When they reached this point, rather than removing the fist, James held it inside for a long minute. From Rich's expressions of pleasure and shrieks of delight, he was subtly adjusting the position within to inspire new sensations.

Despite myself, I was kind of getting into it when my sudden swelling was stopped by the cruel reminder of my cage. This seemed to delight Olivia, who upon noticing my dilemma showed me a bright red wand wrapped in a sort of coil. When she pressed a button on the handle, it made a little buzzing sound.

"You have to watch the whole thing," she laughed. "And if you try to look away, I have to zap you with this."

I tried to twist away again, not wanting to find out what a zap felt like, but she gripped me even tighter from behind and brought the buzzing red stick into contact with the metal cage. A jolt of pain, followed by greater urges, followed by the cage causing more pain. The shock had to be an incredibly small voltage, but it rippled across the entire cage in a way that was reminiscent of my recent lashing.

James has removed his fist and is now preparing to mount Rich from behind. Excited by the vulnerable, gaping hole that is so neatly presented in front of him, James's cock has exploded outward into its full glory. It's now easily over a foot long and that ominous purple-black color, the throbbing head eagerly quivering, ready to spear the prey. He produces a lambskin condom and forms an additional, odd membrane that makes his monstrous organ catch the light in a strange way.

He grunts with each thrust, feet scrabbling wildly as if trying to get just the right kind of angle to shoot up into Rich. After a few attempts in which his cock only partially disappears and then flops out entirely, James leaps up onto the table and mounts his target properly, shoving down, down, down in a textbook doggy style, albeit on a slanted plane. Rich screams in delight, but James is noiseless other than the occasional involuntary grunt. He is staring straight at me, making sure I'm watching, making sure I realize that this could've been me. I could've been the one who got to feel him inside me again. He keeps at it for several minutes without stop, changing his tempo occasionally or adjusting his position on the sloping table to gain better purchase. The constant eye contact only becomes too much for me when I can tell he has reached the point of climax and gazes at me hungrily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. I know he has been thinking about me this entire time, and I know this with such certainty that I don't even mind the shock that Olivia administers.

James pulls away and then leaves the room to get cleaned up. Rich remains in his position on the table, I assume because more play time awaits him once we leave. Olivia helps me back into my tail and attaches my leash. Before she leads me to the door, she rubs some kind of cream onto my bare bottom that soothes the warm stinging almost instantly and she gives me a little kiss on the cheek.

"Come back and see me whenever you want," she croons. "This is always a safe place for you."

She then brushes my hair and feeds me raspberries out of her hand until James come back, fully dressed, and thanks her while taking my leash. I've come down pretty quickly from the trauma of my punishment, and float down to the apartment in a kind of haze.

When we get back, James takes off all of my equipment, including the cage and even the collar. I'd been looking forward to being able to have a proper erection almost all day, but although my balls were still swollen and achy, the shocks and the straining against the metal meant I was too tired and weak to act on my urges. Every time I thought about it, the pain from my beating flared up again and all excitement receded.