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"You comfortable?" The zebra gave a wary nod. Shuffled about on his chair as best he could, the black and white male tested the bindings that held him firm. "Good boy."

Soft fingers danced their way across the equine's chest that bulged between the leathered straps, fingertips digging against the clamped nipples and flicking the weights much to their owner's amusement. They continued down, brown fur tracing against the monochromatic pelt, as they brushed through the male's navel, avoiding quite purposefully his exposed crotch. Moving away, they pressed and kneaded against thick thighs and rubbed the strained muscle to ensure physical contact was made, present and real,

"You sure you're okay? We can call it a night here if you want, Jim." Paws stopped and waited on his legs, thumbs stroking through the fur just inches away from where a spire of virile male endowment stood proud, raging angrily into the empty air, and the zebra was forced finally to speak, though he wished he didn't have to.

"I'm fine, sir," James - or Jim to those he was close to - whimpered. He couldn't fix his gaze on his master's keen stare, unable to look into the pools of caramel for fear of blurting out some horrific truth. He was on edge, he had been all night, and at this stage the stallion was sure that if he let slip his resolve he would give the Shiba Inu far too much leverage over him in future sessions. "I have my safe word, don't I?"

"That you do," the dog mused, but still he didn't move. Frozen to the zebra's body, he refused to relieve even an inch between them, sitting right in front of the male in his far more comfortable looking office chair than James's rather vulnerable state on the bondage seat, legs splayed like a harlot and his arms cuffed out to his sides, crucified before his Master, "but it's just I plan to break you tonight. It's either we stop now or not at all, you know that. Even if you use your safe word, I can't guarantee we'll stop unless I deem it necessary."

His tone was so final and resolute, the words cutting. There was understanding and compassion there too, but it was thinly veiled. Master was typically so soft spoken, seldom ever raising his voice, but his way with words and the manner in how he spoke to James was just so blunt and unyielding. Never was there any room for negotiation, not during the session. Whatever the dog said was law, though the zebra was always given his way out - not that he was inclined to take it.

"I understand, sir."

"Good boy."

The canine moved away, pushing off against his slave's thighs and spinning himself to fetch a tray. Upon it, strewn haphazardly, were the various instruments and tools Master would be using for the grand finale of the night, clattering and skittering against one another as the dog placed it down within his reach. First came the crack of powdered medical gloves. Sterile blue, the flex of wriggling latex worming their way onto digits until elastic snapped around wrists. Master worked his paws to settle the layer, allowing it to breathe upon like a second skin, hugging every contour. The zebra shuddered as those covered paws touched him, the feeling alien yet familiar. It was always so bizarre whenever Master descended into that level of medical play. Though they would never be 'doctor and patient', it was still something he recoiled at. But finally came something that edged towards play that James could appreciate. Reaching out, Master wrapped one blue paw around his throbbing erection, fingers palpating and massaging his tender flesh. He was already overwrought, but it had been quite some time since the last edging session of the night... something perhaps an hour ago? It depends on how long the dog had been fucking his muzzle and how long it had taken him to unload down his throat.

James found himself pushing up into the canine's grasp. As best he could, given that he was bound to the chair which kept him exposed, but all the same the Shiba Inu seemed to hold his ground, denying the zebra a chance to relieve himself. He leant across and daintily picked up the alcohol wipes from the side, rubbing inelegantly the stallion's head with careful attention paid to its tip and the opening, smearing away the beads of pre that strung down from his member. The gruff attention had him squirming, but it passed as quickly as it had begun. It paved the way for the dog to reach back and snatch instead now at the lube bottle, discarding the used wipes back into the tray. A pop of a lid, and slick squelch, and James felt before he even saw the cold trickle of clear gel slither its way across his cock. Rivulets of spidery strings crept along the leathered black of his meat, the cool touch searing down into the deeper flesh as Master generously slathered more and more until he was swimming beneath a slowly melting dollop of lube. He could only watch it disappear over the sides of his dick whilst the lube bottle was returned to the tray, feeling the wetness now ooze its way over his hard, thick inches.

Master however returned finally with the main event. Even as James felt his body preoccupied with the teasing sensations of soft lube, his mind and much of his focus was now placed on the thin metal wand held pinched between thumb and middle finger of his Master's dominant paw.

"No turning back now," he stated plainly, aloud and simply for himself, "no safe words now, okay boy?"

The final chance. James swallowed.

"Yes sir."

"Good boy."

Still with one paw grasping his member, the dog lifted the sounding rod and ran its length through the clear gooey mess slathered upon his head. Right against the opening, from tip to tip, the canine greased the shaft of his instrument well before resting finally with one end pressing inwards. James had barely a moment to allow the reality to sink in, but he braced himself with poorly hidden eagerness and a tentative whine; Master eased the sound into his piss-slit, allowing the zebra's hardened flesh to accept the steel before sinking in an inch or two. Enough for James to adjust, enough for it to feel too full if only at first, enough so that even with Master holding one end of the metal, it looked truly obscene jutting out from his cock.

"Ah, fuck!" The cry came out involuntarily, blurted through invasive pleasures that the stallion seldom felt. They had sounded before. If anything, it was the dog's main fetish, but it had been some time since they had had the chance to practice together.

"You've not been training like I ordered." Master said it before it even crossed James's mind. Shame burnt on his cheeks. He was right. He'd fallen lax in his own duties whenever they were not together and couldn't meet. He hadn't been following the schedule, which meant his body wasn't used to the roughness.

"I'm sorry sir." There was a cold sigh. Colder than the hard steel that sat in his member. James shifted uncomfortably as his body failed to expel the foreign tool, becoming more and more aware of the rigidity in him.

"That's fine..." It wasn't. "It's only going to be you who'll suffer. I, however, will enjoy retraining your hole." There was no discussion to it. James had been disobedient, really he had only himself to blame if he wanted someone to be angry at for whatever Master was to do. At that moment in time, he could only make it right,

"Yes sir."

The steel plunged further in with the Shiba's paw driving it. Inches of metal were fed into his cock; a relatively thin sound, easy for a beginner and easier for the stallion's endowment and skill, but he could still feel every one gorging themselves into his flesh. Piercing down his shaft, there was nothing to stop the relentless drive of the dog's push. James squealed as he felt the sound travel down into him, feeling it tickle and prick at the inner workings that really ought never to be touched. Though it wasn't an impossible sensation, it was one he hadn't felt in a while to say the least, and he rose against his straps to hear the leather tighten and creak under the bruise of his muscles.

"Yeah, really tight. Such a naughty boy. Only yourself to blame, really." Master was simply observing, stating facts and taking mental notes for himself, things to be checking over and making stock of. James was his property, after all, and due care must be taken to assess what condition his belongings were in before he proceeded to do anything brash with them. Unable to hold back his cries though, James yelped out as the sound was pushed deep into him, inserted at its fullest into his urethra. Master left it there, finger pressed to the tip, so that not even the smoothened end of the rod could peak from his black flare. All James could focus on was the feeling of that hardness stuffed inside him, filling his cock, providing it the spine it would never have. It left his usually arched cock to stand to attention with painful straightness, surging upwards to Master's paws with heavy beats of his pulse. Every throb was agony as it bloated around the sound, blocked deep inside and feeling the other end sitting somewhere within, prodding against his innermost abdominal space.

"Please sir..." he breathlessly huffed, "I'm sorry..."

"Moving on..."

Slowly but steadily, Master allowed James to push free the sound. He removed his fingertip and almost immediately inner muscles worked on instinct to expel the metal rod, inches sliding free with only the quietest of slicks. Clear lube churned free out of the zebra's urethra, his piss-slit closing shut behind the metal, but Master didn't give the male chance to rest for long. The thin wand was tossed aside and soon replaced by another. Thicker, longer perhaps, and all the more imposing in the dog's paw as he ran it through the lube before pushing its tip back into the stallion's cock. James once more ground against the bindings. He hated the sensation - always that first inch - of being penetrated where no man ever should. The ass he could take, and take he did on many occasions, but Master's interests always lay within his member, deep down in recesses the canine had ways of reaching. Metal inches slid back into him and impaled his shaft once more, leaving him defenceless as his arms strained at their bonds whilst he was skewered. The almost burning but almost pleasure sensation, the pendulum that danced the line between pain and ecstasy but seemed to always favour lingering for far too long on the former's side. The wand's size again was something he could take rather well, but it was thicker than he'd anticipated and it certainly felt far larger than the first had. His remission in training had made everything feel tighter, which had felt good in the short run, but now it was working against him. His return to normalcy for a few days was now becoming a high price to pay for his Master's desire.

A grunt escaped his lips as the wand pushed past some inner ring. Just an uncomfortable feeling, a shock to the system, but it was enough to have him flailing in his chair,

"Sit still, boy!" The dog snapped. He calmed himself, as best he could, but shivers now plagued his body.

"Please sir..."

"Shut up."

So he did. However the sound pushed deeper still until it was hilted inside him, and his body surged at the sensation. It was wrong to have something there, instinctually, but he wanted to let his Master put it there, he wanted to make him pleased and proud. It was a far cry though from where he was currently at. If anything, Master was most displeased.

With the sound deep inside, just its shiny silvered tip prodding through black flesh, James whimpered almost mutely to himself, the noise barely a quiver in his throat, as he stared at his own manhood penetrated and obscenely used at the canine's leisure. He could feel it lining the underside of his shaft, the metal just brimming beneath the meat, there and altogether present if not invisible to his view. But he could imagine how it must have looked to the dog, the sight of his cock bulging along its length, the rod protruding as a long bump through the flesh. It made him throb hard at the thought, breath catching in his throat as he watched Master reach for the next sound. Larger this time, much larger. They were using the special kit that the dog had bought whilst they'd attended the leather parade in the rainbow quarter of the city. James had confused memories of that kit, days when he had loved and days when he had loathed it, and even days altogether where the mere sight of those steel wands drove him insatiable and insane all at the same time.

He made to say something, his body pushing out the second sound as if it were hungry on its own volition for the third, but he stopped himself, though his voice still garbled a whine of submission. The feeling of his cock being emptied by the metal had him twinging, paws clenched so tightly he was sure the knuckles were white beneath all the leather. Master however cast him a dry, withering look,

"Do I need to gag you?" It was an odd question. Typically Master liked to hear him squeal, one of his many turn-ons having the zebra cry like the little bitch he loved to see him be, but James knew that a gag would help. He liked biting down on something, it gave him something to do, something to focus on beyond whatever else might be happening to him. The right answer would have been to say no, to abide by Master's wishes, but he found himself panicking at the sight of the third sound gliding across his shaft and running through the sticky lube.

"Yes sir..." He sounded defeated. Perhaps he was. James couldn't have really said either way, but he knew he was in no position to protest or argue. If Master was offering him the option, then he might as well take the reprieve where he could.

Only his decision came with its own price. The third sound was plunged into his cock, too quickly and too deeply. His body rejected the sensation but could do nothing to stop it, so he flailed once more and screamed at the top of his lungs. A whinny brayed and hollered aloud as he thrashed, cock jerking and straining as the metal rod sunk deep, stretching his inner tunnel down his shaft and pushing deeper still than the one before had. He let out a sob of displeasure, the shivers returning with a vengeance as the dog sauntered out of his chair and across the room, fishing through the duffel bag of toys he liked to keep hidden in the closet away from prying eyes. But for as much as he writhed about, there was no escape. The sound was inside him, practically hilted with just two, maybe three inches poking free obscenely from his cock, and there was no getting rid of it. Its thickness seemed to nullify his capacity to push the rod out. His body was powerless now, the girth stretching him and holding the wand tight where it sat inside him. A mewl dripped from his lips, mane sweaty and bedraggled from a long session. They were far from over though, and so James sucked it up as best he could, though his chest rumbled with pathetic whimpers beneath his breath.

Master returned to his side holding something black in one paw. There was no show of the toy, no demonstration for James to sit and simmer in the anticipation. Not right now, earlier they might have done had Master wanted the effect, but there and then it was simply a tool, something to be used and implemented, not savoured and enjoyed. James didn't get a moment to even register what it was before the dog was pushing the silicone protrusion into his mouth. He reeled in shock but there was nowhere for his head to go that the dog couldn't reach, and so unceremoniously his muzzle was stuffed full with five inches of fake cock that just about prodded at the edge of his throat. Uncomfortable enough for him to feel, but safe enough that he wouldn't choke, forever trapped on the balance though between his body retching on reflex and his inability to do anything about the gag. The buckles fastened around his head made certain of that, cementing in his mind that he had asked for this, therefore he should bear it without so much as a complaint. At the very least it would be a mild distraction from the metal violating his cock.

His moans became muffled, his tongue busy, as the gag served its purpose and kept him occupied in just one of his holes. But Master, without skipping a beat, sat himself right back down enraptured with his slave's member.

Fingers took hold of the skewer and slid it deeper. Slowly now, as if Master wanted to savour every delectable squirm that ran through the stallion's tempered body. One inch would be pulled back, two more added, one back, two more deeper down; more lube was eventually added with a squirt of the bottle, the sound left to jut lewdly from James's cock, but there was no removing it, not quite yet. He hadn't taken the whole thing yet, and if he knew anything of his Master's interests, there would be no half measures. Once an attempt had been started, there was no turning back. It would be completed regardless. All the input James had on the matter was how much he protested - and how hard his punishment would be afterwards for disobedience and obstinacy.

James very nearly squealed though as he watched the sound disappear almost entirely into him. Not even its tip could be seen as his cock bulged with too much blood. He was impossibly hard, whether that was from fear, arousal, or a horrific blend of both, he was unable to tell. But his urethra was now obscured to him by his own flare, his muscles wanting to tear themselves free as he could definitely feel the offending wand riding down his shaft, but was now forced to simply contemplate how it must have looked, how it felt to him, and the very sensations he didn't want parading around his mind.

It was withdrawn, eventually, and Master didn't waste a single second in picking out the next contender. For as much as James had wanted the gag, he began to feverishly shake his head and cry out. He begged as much as he could with his eyes, chest bursting with 'no' but the only noise that came from his mouth was the muffled gurgle of his tongue against silicone. The gag silenced him enough to make any word a meaningless grunt, his pleas went unheard. But that was not because his Master could not understand him. On the contrary, the dog understood very well that James was careening his way into panicked distress. His cold eyes stared right back at James, who failed to focus on one thing for the next, eyes zapping from his cock, to the sound, to his Master all in the fraction of a second only to then repeat itself. His sweaty mane clung to his face, forelocks cascading over one eye that he flicked desperately out of the way, perspiration dripping down his face as he was becoming all too aware of the heat in Master's dungeon. The air was thinner, especially with the gag, it felt damper and clammier, as if he were breathing thick fog. But his Master's gaze was hypnotic. Like a predator, the canine didn't break away or even blink for a daring second, only watched as James worked himself into a stupor. The sound was not taken away, but it didn't enter him either, lingering on his cock head, swirling through greasy lube that shone upon his flesh. James was hyperaware of the metal rod, unable to draw himself away from glancing at the wand, realising that from the first to now its girth was monumentally larger, larger than he wanted, and it sat just waiting to penetrate him.

It was not the wand however that was waiting. It was Master.

"Are we calm?" His voice was low, soothing almost, but it had a hard edge to it. James wasn't sure if he could answer honestly, so he did nothing, said nothing. His whimpering had at least abated. "Take a minute, just breathe. Slowly now."

He followed his commands. The panting was hard to control, but it was the foreknowledge of what was to come that frightened him. Being split apart, his cock all but mutilated and stretched for something was so wrong to him. It was the violation of the last part of himself that was truly masculine. He had met Master when he was still young, just having freshly turned twenty, and they'd flown into a whirlwind affair of late night liaisons and half-sprung dates before the canine had begun developing the ultimatums.

"I'll only fuck you if you let me..."

"If you want another date, you've got to..."

"I'm only gonna see you again if you..."

All mild at first, perhaps he'd let the dog cuff him to the bed, or he'd let the dog sit on his face as he gave a curiously earnest rim-job. But then it had grown and escalated, to stages where he was letting his Master's roommate - a brute of a bull - fuck his throat until he couldn't even breathe, or where he was bound in a sleep-sack with just his cock and balls free, exposed and bound so tight in rope that they angrily throbbed a shade of dangerous purple, not to mention that the agony was not helped by Master's paddle against his swollen nuts. But still, James had come, each and every time, always nervous, always afraid, but desperately aroused and loving every second he was in the dog's presence.

When they'd upgraded from Craig and Jim to Master and slave, no longer even allowed to use the canine's first name, simply title only, that's when James realised he'd gone too far down the rabbit hole to stop.

"You doing alright?"

Sounding was one particular kink James had found to hate. It was one of Master's favourite pastimes ever since he'd introduced the zebra to it only a year ago. But since then, James had been ordered to routinely stretch himself out, sounding himself nearly every night almost under the dog's watchful scrutiny if it were at all possible. Late night sessions in front of the webcam whenever either of them were out of town or unable to stop by became a regular facet of James's life that it had been a welcome reprieve when his camera had broken and he was forced to buy a replacement. That had been the last two weeks, the online delivery taking longer than expected, much to his reluctant relief.

It hurt at first. Like breaking any such virginity, the first time had stung and been met with great resistance, but Master had persisted. Subsequent sessions had found James taking bigger and bigger sounds, screaming and squirming as he'd watched metal rod after metal rod gorge themselves into his cock, unable to comprehend quite fully what sort of feeling he should be processing: pain or pleasure. It was awful trying to negotiate the sensation, all too intense to try and describe though not for lack of the words. James could sit for an hour and go through every adjective and verb he could think of that he could ascribe to the act, and still not have even scratched the surface. It was hellish bliss that terrified him. But it was the idea of it he loathed most. The physical sensation was bad enough as it was, but whenever James felt the cold steel sliding down his shaft, his body warming it up until it felt almost second nature to have it inside him, that was when his mind triggered the horrifying trickle of thoughts. What if he grew to like it? Truly like it, not to simply tolerate it but to enjoy and yearn for the feeling. What if it got to a stage where he was taking sounds like nobody's business? What if the wand Master held right now was just a warm-up? What if Master had goals for him to take dildos and beer cans, all with just a bit of wrist work and some good old fashioned lube? What would people think of him if they knew he wanted all that?

The scarier thing was, maybe he did like it, and maybe he wanted to go that far and didn't care what people thought. Maybe... but not yet.

"Boy?" Stern, Master was snatching his attention, "I said, are you alright?"

James had to be honest. He shook his head, eyes once again trying to plead with Master. His breathing had evened out, his brain no longer firing at random, his muscles though sore no longer pulling at the bindings.

"I know, boy," the canine cooed, one paw reaching up to brush away the zebra's straying mane, "But I told you, we don't stop until I'm done. I am going to break you. Just keep breathing and let me in."

The paw left James's face as he let out a shrill, defeated whine. With fate fixed, it returned to hold his cock just as he poised the new wand at the zebra's urethra. The zebra had only a moment to steel himself before Master sunk the sound deep into him, only managing to push down a quarter of the rod before anatomy made entry much harder. Uncontrollably he shuddered, sobbing behind the gag as he dug his teeth into the false cock, back arching against the chair whilst Master began to force in the rest of the sound, inch by slow, grating inch. James could feel himself stretching open, his dick pried wider and wider by the metal wand. His eyes fixed on Master's paw, his fingers working the rod twisting it from left to right as it churned the lube, slipping into his cock in an almost agonisingly slow speed. The feeling radiated through James's crotch, his body wanting very much to get away from the wand as it entered him, knowing he was beginning to hit limits that Master was awfully intent on not just pushing but shattering altogether. Down further the rod still went, spearing his cock like a kebab, his flesh unnaturally straight, painful and hard with burning need. James was so ashamed of himself but he didn't dare tell his Master 'no'. He wanted it. Somehow, he did, he knew that, but there and then he knew nothing but the agony and the pleasure that somehow pricked beneath it.

"Breathe, boy."

James did his best to control every lungful of air he rasped upon. In and out, slow and steady - just like Master's wand. It was hard to fight the intruding thoughts, abrupt as they were and derailing to his concentration. But he couldn't move his eyes away from the spectacle of his cock gradually swallowing the all too fat rod, metal plunging into flesh, silver descending into black. The lube, by now, was frothy and foamed as air bubbled into the mess, pre most likely mixed in there somewhere, though James would never know. Really he should have looked away, distracted himself so that he could breathe, but there was no pulling himself from the sight of Master violating his member. He shook his head in frustration, toiling from side to side as he bit down on the gag whilst more was still fed into his cock. He must have been half way, he must have... it felt too deep to not be that far, but yet as he watched on helpless, there was so much more to go. Master's fingers were pushing it down, a tremble to his wrist from the sheer delicate force he must have been taking to ease the sound into the zebra's anatomy without causing damage. However careful he was though, Master was keeping true to his word. He was going to break the zebra and really James could only blame himself.

Even when it was hilted inside him, Master eased the wand back and forth, as if he were fucking the zebra's very cock. James mewled behind the gag in a pathetic cry, throwing his head back finally as he could no longer stand the sight of his own member impaled. It was too much to bear, to know that down the whole length of his cock was a rod of metal, steel reshaping and reworking him to fit his Master's desires. His balls ached, as if they were blocked and plugged, more so than just the literal sense. There was no cumming from this, not even if James wanted to, but he had no doubt that Master would devise something torturous for him to bear the brunt of.

Instead he removed the current sound, sliding it out in one long pull. The sensation, of suddenly being empty, of the rod leaving his body, had James doubled over as best he could in his chairs, straps creaking as he howled. The idea of using his safe word flashed in his mind, almost too quickly, but he registered it well enough. Not to use, but to know it was there, in case it really did become too much to endure. He could feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes, tears of frustration and acute pain, but little else. He was certain though that he could stomach it. Even if it hurt, even if it was hell, there was something he craved in it, and he knew that on the other side Master would be proud of him. So with quick, sharp breaths he controlled himself as Master picked up the next sound, quite nearly the size of a small dildo, hell even somebody's cock if they were unlucky enough. The Shiba Inu had to grapple with it using all his paw, not just two or three fingers. It seemed heavy as he moved it, the weight forcing it to dangle in his grip, long and impossibly thick for James to even contemplate entering him. His eyes were wide and terror clutched at his chest. He'd never taken this size before.

"I'm going to go slow for you," Master began as he lubed up the sound, "You just grunt twice if you need me to pause, but we're not stopping." The tip of the wand was pressed up to James's flared head, the tip all too big to just simply sink in like those before it. It sat, bulging at his urethra, icy metal sapping away his cock's heat. Yet still he was throbbing with need, even in the face of an ugly reality, "Now breathe boy, because this is going to hurt."

Master forced the head of the rod inside. It took a little work, but eventually James's cock spread apart to accept the wand. Indeed Master had not been lying. Barely a few centimetres had been pushed inside and already James found himself snivelling and whimpering as his cock swelled obscenely around the sound. He wanted to scream, so loudly and violently that he was scared he might blow out his voice, but the sound couldn't come, not whilst he watched himself be entered by something so grotesquely large than even he paled to consider it a possibility. But in it went, agonisingly slowly, like the drip of paint or the trickling oil, it was so slow that it was a torture in and of itself to witness. Part of him wanted it just shoved in, but he knew the damage would be far reaching and detrimental only to himself, so he was thankful that Master was being considerate. However, knowing that tonight would not be over until his cock had swallowed the sound in its entirety was a far more frightening afterthought.

Yet still it burnt as it pushed, churning through lube that seemed as if it was doing nothing to slicken the passage. James was in exquisite pain, every limb pulling on his bindings as he watched his cock suckle upon steel, far too thick that it seemed as if it would never go much deeper. But to his disbelief it sank, lower and lower until Master stopped for a moment,

"Do you feel that?" A finger was tracing his shaft, prodding at some point along his underside, "That's how deep it is." As if to demonstrate the point, Master pushed James's member back, enough for him to see. True enough, with the exposed wand jutting out across his abdomen, about an inch or two was buried inside his flesh, bulging against the skin, swollen and distended, all too large. James was no longer able to simply drown out the sensation. He could feel it clearly and distinctly, the stretch, the fullness, and the unsettling fear that sat in his gut...

His cock was getting fucked.

With one paw Master pushed the sound deeper. James yowled behind the gag as his flesh felt as if it were tearing apart, both wet and dry at the same time as the metal sunk into him. His fists were clenched behind him, everything straining to break free as Master leisurely toyed with the few inches he had inside so far, riding and probing every now and then for a little give. James could see by the pricks of his pupils and the small sneer upon the corner of his muzzle that he was enjoying himself, perhaps more than he might have admitted, but James knew he would be told all about it once the session was over and the safe word declared. His face was a fixed expression of deep, lusty focus, the occasional glance up to meet the zebra's pitiful gaze, before he snapped back down to the sight of his violated cock. It was enough to drive James to insatiable misery, head rolling back and thumping against the headrest of the chair, suckling upon the gag for dear life as he fought to stop himself from freaking out. His shaft was writhing with agony but he wanted more, so much more and so badly that it terrified him.

They had slipped past the halfway point without James even realising it. To him, every inch was torment in and of itself, so regardless of how far down they were, it mattered little to James. He let out a low, sobbing groan as Master eased down whatever was left of the rod into his cock, slowly but surely until the wand was as deep as it could possibly go, just the very tip poking free from his head. The dog drew away his paws and allowed James to fluster in the heat, member throbbing and pulsing as his body convulsed around the sound, attempting to expel it but failing in desperate futility. His eyes were staring, fixated on his own violated shaft, feeling utterly helpless as he was left to suffer and wallow in its sensation. He was too full, too stretched, and there was nothing he could do about it except wait for mercy.

Master leant forward and took a hold of James's cock between both paws; one below the medial ring, the other teasing just below the flare, a thumb tip rubbing over the ridged flare as it swelled to meet the zebra's rising lust. The sensation was too great, an overload to an already overworked system, but through it all he could just about make out the pleasure of the touch. Instinct told him to hump his Master's paw for all he could get for fear that he might move away at any moment, but all he could manage was an awkward scrape of his hips upon the chair, too tightly bound to drive himself much further than an inch or two into the dog's grip.

"Easy now," the Shiba Inu whispered, stroking his paws up, one out of time with the other, twisting and working the zebra's piston, "Just enjoy it."

The lube made it all the more agonising. Master's paws glided across his shaft as if it was polish against varnished wood. His flesh shone with gleaning ooze, Master stroking him into sweet hell. He loved when Master toyed with him and masturbated his cock, even if he wasn't allowed to touch himself, the canine just had the right way with him from years of experience that left James soaring. Though more often than not Master liked to torment him with the exact same skillset, but it was a small price to pay to feel the glorious attention the dog could provide. James may miss oral, but it was worth it to have Master tending to his needs.

"Bet that feels real good..." he drawled, grinding the rubbery palms of his paws against James's quivering flesh, "Fuck yeah, look at you all jittery. Leaking like a faucet too... Good boy..."

When they had met, James had known about the dog's kinkier side. In fact, he'd revelled in it at first. Having been acquainted once or twice with the odd dom here and there, he'd all but lunged at the chance to date a fellow fetishist. But Master had had a keen eye for pushing limits. Whilst he would never have sucked James off, he was perfectly willing to force the zebra through hours of edging sessions before locking him up in chastity for a week straight. Whilst Master had no inclination to guzzle James's ample load, he was more than happy to feed the stallion his seed back to him through an open gag after crushing his sack to within an inch of its life. The list went on... and every time James had told him they'd go no further. That that was as far as he was prepared to go, but like a fool he found himself strapped down and subjected to some greater torture he began to like. Now some years into their affair and he was beginning to consider the possibility that maybe there were no limits, only the goals Master had in mind for him. Skewering his cock wide open was one of them. James wasn't _that_much of an idiot; he had seen Master's internet search history, found the online invoices for custom kits of industrial sized sounds. He dreaded the day they'd arrive at Master's doorstep, yet he couldn't help but count down the days for the delivery...

James, for now, was more occupied with the sound dug deep in his shaft. Master's tender paws rubbing over his length was exquisite but torturous. He was caught in the throes of something that perhaps teetered close to an orgasm, only the sensation was stunted. Blocked as he was, James doubted that it would have ended well, but he couldn't deny the rising heat in his gut. Master was edging him that much was clear, building him up only to let him simmer and then ebb away. The sound however added a terrible complication. Master could push his fingertips down against where the metal lay just beneath his flesh, he would work his paws around the shaft and the impaling rod as if they were one and the same, connected on some primal, intimate level yet very much wrong and unnatural. James shuddered uncontrollably as the thoughts careened through his mind as these feelings grew, died, and were reborn all over again. Worse were the moments where Master teased the bulging hardness of his angry flare or when his fingers pressed and kneaded against his medial ring, flattening it to the metal sound buried in his urethra. Every time he'd let out a whimpering sob from behind his gag, drool dripping from his chin as fatigue began to beguile him.

"Such a good boy," Master grinned with a churlish sigh, right as he let his shaking slave climb back down from another failed climax, "How stretched are you for Master?"

Though he couldn't have answered, James would have said too much. He was too far stretched for Master, but for Master he wasn't stretched enough. So the night continued, all to his great displeasure. When he saw Master bring out the next sound, one he'd never seen before, he very nearly broke down into hysterical cries.

It was almost as fat as a dildo. No, that was wrong, James decided. It was as fat as a dildo. It might have well have been one for how thick it was. A dildo on the small size, for sure, but one all the same. Perhaps two to three fingers thick, tapered upon one end until it was wider at its top - or was that the bottom? James didn't want to know. He wanted it nowhere near him. His body trembled as Master rolled it between his fingers upon his palm, testing its weight, feeling the cool metal running across the latex gloves. James shook his head in a feverish glaze.

"This is the last one boy. You're going to take this one, then that'll be it."

Still James shook his head. Even as Master reached forward and took a hold of the sounding rod already stuffed inside his length, James continued to tell him no. He didn't want to, this was tonight's limit and he'd reached it. He couldn't take anymore.

But Master pulled the wand free and paid no care to the roar that bellowed from behind James's gag. The noise was raw and feral, nearly running himself hoarse as he shrieked. It was enough to even penetrate the silicone, to grate upon his own ears and make him wince in pain as his cock suddenly felt horrifyingly empty. If Master had reacted to his cry, he gave no signs that he had, as he lubed up the new wand with a flourish of the bottle and paws. Grease slickened the steel with lewd slurps of medical gloves against metal. Master was at the very least lubricating the sound beyond measure, but that made no difference to the zebra. His eyes felt dry as they watched on, wide and panicked, whilst Master wheeled himself just a little closer and pressed his fingers to the stallion's gaping urethra. James shivered in ecstasy as much as nauseous surprise as he watched the dog slip in two dainty digits into his cock, his opening easily swallowing them without so much as a strain of resistance. As Master slid them deeper, it was only when he buried them in to the third knuckles did he let out another shrill howl of desperate arousal. It was so wrong, so utterly wrong, but James shuddered at the sight of himself so used. It was wrong, but it felt so good...

However the sound came back in to view, its thinnest point hovering just above James's cock as Master drew his paw back after licking his fingers clean. James kept saying 'no' and 'please' behind the gag but it was all for nought. Neither of those two words had any sway with the dog who pressed the sound's end up to his cock. With another screeched scream from the zebra, he sunk in the first inches.

James flailed in his bindings, unable to stop himself as pain bloomed in his dick. The sound was too big, far too big, and there was no way it was going to go inside him. But Master took a hold of his shaft in one paw, fingers prising apart his urethra from either side of his head, whilst the other wielded the wand and forced it into his flesh. For as much as James fought back, he simply had no purchase to make any impact on what Master was doing, and so all his writhing and crying earned him no reward. The canine didn't even flinch as the zebra tried to break away, hips jerking in any direction but where Master's paws lay, but it was all futile. He was too tightly bound to the chair, too tired to go against the dog's wishes, and so deeper still the sound sunk, slowly, occasionally pulled back only to press further once again, never stopping. Master would twist his wrist, grope James's cock, and plunge the rod deeper in, all in ignorance of the zebra's braying whines.

It was agony, to feel his cock burning with the impossible stretch that was reworking his inner plumbing to his Master's whim. The pain was something he'd never quite felt before, but was certain he'd never forget. Even in all their time, Master had never stretched him this far. There was always a limit, always some boundary that James had to meet, but that had been two sounds back, and yet here they were now well past what even he believed he could take. His throat felt raw from all the cries, but still they came no matter how much it hurt. It was all instinctual, that perhaps Master might find pity in his cold heart and finally give the poor zebra mercy. But James knew that would never happen, not with the dog's will of steel, as hard as the very rod he forced into his length. Somewhere behind it all, James felt something in him snap. The dog had broken him.

Through the gag, blubbering as he was, he cried out his safe word. The syllables were garbled behind silicone, formless and meaningless as they fell on devilishly naïve ears. Master's eyes shot up from his cock, they bore into James's skull, the pupils burning and the face stern. It was a challenge, daring James to follow through and stick with it. Though the safe word was there for his use, it was not meant to be thrown about superfluously. It was reserved for those extreme moments, times when James truly was at his limit. But the zebra was certain. He couldn't take anymore. Again he grunted his safe word, resorting even to thumping his paw against the lukewarm leather thrice over in case, for some reason, Master could not hear him.

Though to James it felt like it took the dog an age to react, he moved quite quickly as he stood up from his took his paws away from the zebra's cock, sound still impaled however far down it had reached, and he unclasped the buckles upon the equine's face to release the gag. One paw took the end of the toy whilst James spat out the rest, instinctively heaving empty air and spittle as the dildo pulled from his maw. He coughed once, twice maybe, and rasped earnestly, head hanging low,

"I'm sorry sir," he babbled, working his tired jaw and numb tongue as best he could, "Banana, sir, banana..." A word seldom a sub could have spoken even by accident, the syllables and bizarreness in such a scene. It was a word that stuck out amongst the rest of the codes they used, from green, amber and red, even to the unusual purple for medical emergencies. It was the 'black' word, something beyond even red. The end of a session.

Only Master seemed not to be relieving the zebra of his other bonds.

He waited, for perhaps a minute, to let James catch his breath. The striped muscles flexed and twitched as he recuperated, shudders still plaguing him and his panting levelling out to just shallow but rested rhythms. The canine rubbed his thighs, softly stroking through the fur to knead at the aching muscle beyond, moving further up to the zebra's abs. Some feeling was groped back into them, the dog keeping close as James was given a moment to just breathe, and Master's eyes trained themselves upon the fatigued gaze of his slave.

"Look at me," he commanded. James lifted his head, "You okay? Talk to me."

"I can't, sir..." he whined in response, "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." Leaning forwards, the dog kissed the zebra's nose, just the tip, soft and chaste but loaded with concern, "You're doing magnificently."

"Please sir, no more," James said, cautiously casting a glance at the sound jutting from his cock. Still it sat there, within him, his body clutched around its steel and unable to forget its presence. He swore it could go no deeper. It didn't seem possible. Master, however, had other ideas,

"You can take it." He was so cool and calm, fingers still stroking across the fine pelt. Another kiss to James's forward as the canine closed the gap between them, intimacy on its only level. But his head was bowed down, capable only of staring at his violated member, struggling with the conflict of wanting to follow his Master's orders but knowing it wouldn't be pleasant for him.

"I don't like it sir." He sounded so pitiful, "I can't do it."

"Yes you can. Of course you can, you're my boy, I know you can do it." Master brought James's lips to his own, but he denied him his tongue. Fleeting and just a glance of one mouth to another, he pecked the zebra's muzzle, "Just breathe and take a moment. Be honest and think hard: where are we at?"

James would have liked to have said red, but something in him paused. He took several long, deep breaths and did his best to still the shivers that ran through him. There was little to enjoy for himself, there and then. Past the point where he had found it pleasurable, James had long since reached his limit, and Master had slammed beyond it. But the longer he thought, the more James realised he was probably only at amber. It was a very red-looking amber, but amber all the same. As much as it scared him to think about it, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. In the earliest days even taking just the smallest sounds had been a torture all on its own, hours of working just working in a single one to its fullest. But here he was, taking one of Master's largest in the kit, and it was nearly all the way in. Master's paws moved closer to his crotch, but refused to touch his shaft - that would only come if James acquiesced to his whim. He could turn round now and call an end to the session, but he would be denied the privilege of cumming. That much was certain. He was so close, both to the brink and to taking the sound fully... and Master would be so immensely proud of him if he did...

In some morbidly twisted way too, James realised he'd have been proud of himself too.

"Amber, sir..." He answered dolefully. Master's fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezed, making him nearly buck his hips into the canine's touch.

"Good boy..." Master drawled, "So what's it gonna be? You want to continue or do we stop?"

There wasn't really a choice, not for James. If they stopped, he'd be angry with himself. He'd be miserable and depressed for the rest of the week, no matter how much Master consoled him. He'd have let the dog down.

"We keep going, sir..."

"Atta boy."

Those gloved paws returned to their rightful places upon the zebra's throbbing cock and once more took hold of the rod and flesh, Master drawing some of the errant lube up the bound male's cock and to the metal. James braced himself, teeth gritted hard now that the gag was free, as he felt the dog begin pushing the wand back inside him.

As much as he wished he could scream, James strangled himself to a choked wail as he felt Master slide the sound in with a casual thrust of his paw, burying another good few inches into the zebra's cock over the course of slow, ticking minutes. He strained hard in his chair, unable to break free and stretching well-worn leather to its limits. There was no escaping the inevitable torture of the wand as it went deeper. His cock churned with an indescribable pain, something that roused a sensation not pleasurable but distinctly orgasmic. It was if the nerves in his member were so taut and confused that they couldn't even begin to process the feeling of being speared wide open. It was as if all sensation was becoming a blurred fire that broiled in James's dick, nowhere to go but to linger and stoke. His whole cock, every inch, was aflame with the feeling, his body scorched at the heat of it, his brain doing its best to blot it out and extinguish it before it could go too far. But it had taken hold, long before now, and it burnt out every nerve it could find like the trailing fuse to a waiting bomb, ready to detonate once James had been well and truly broken. For now he was fractured, fragmented into pieces that Master would put back together again with care and love, but he threatened to burst at the seams. How much longer now? A few inches? Gods they were only just half way...

"Ready boy?" Master seemed to be steeling himself for something, arms braced, shoulder pulled back. "Deep breath now."

James did as he was told, his chest tightening as he anticipated the action, eyes practically frozen to the sight of that metal rod all too close to being hilted inside him. Though he was seized with abject apprehension, he nodded numbly to his Master. Consent was given.

He didn't even hear his scream when with one great push, Master sunk the sound in to the hilt with a savage thrust of his paw. James didn't even register the feeling. Only later would he learn that he had passed out, head lolling backwards as the sensation was simply too intense to comprehend. He had shut down, sent over the brink and beyond. If he thought long enough about it, glimpses of visions before the world went white would flicker into view, but they were scant and foggy. Aware only of his Master's presence and the sight of his own impaled cock, his only vivid memory that clung to his senses was that of the dog sat before him, casually sinking in the sound in to its fullest whilst James howled for no one to hear. The feeling of overwhelming fullness, stretched much too wide than he would have considered physically possibly, all with the Shiba Inu groping his cock through his clothes as he watched his slave convulse and lose himself to a literal mind-blowing orgasm - if it could even be called that. James couldn't remember emptying his balls. He didn't even know he had cum until he had come to.

As Master was pulling free the last of the wand, James was graced with the waking sensation of just the last two inches slipping out of his body, and he quailed with a shudder and a whimper. He felt sluggish, his body too exhausted to even fight the dog who manipulated his slowly softening flesh. Still hard, however, albeit his flare had since abated, that being the only other indication he had climaxed alongside the sticky strings of seed that ran down his shaft. They were frothy and the wrong consistency, as if it wasn't his load at all but the mere cum extracted fresh from his balls, pissed out not shot. He was sensitive however, spent and barely lucid, but that didn't stop the dog from doing what he wanted. No matter how much he twitched as the canine manhandled his meat, there was nothing he could do to stop Master from teasing the tired member and squeezing the shaft within his grasp.

"Stay with me, boy!" He snarled, slapping the zebra across the face with a slimy gloved paw, "I want you to feel this."

Part of him wondered what he meant, what more could there be, but his questions were swiftly answered as Master stood up, rigid cock in paw, and fed the tip of his canine member into James's. The stallion whinnied with shock and fear, but Master didn't go very deep. As slim as he was, he perhaps fitted about an inch or two into the zebra's cock before he could go no further, wide enough and deep enough so that his head was fully engorged inside James's body. He sat back, wearily watching on, mumbling some nonsense, praising his Master as the dog began to furiously stroke his own shaft, tugging at his knot, paw raging over his length as he jacked himself off. He chuffed once or twice, hips bucking up against the zebra's, but it didn't take him long until he was riding his orgasm. With his head held high, the Shiba Inu barked into the air as he came.

James felt it first though. Inside his own cock, where he ought never to feel the sensation, he felt the hot splashes of dog jizz. Wet and watery, it surged down his member in the wrong direction, backing up into anatomy that never should have been fucked. But this was Master's desire, and James couldn't resist him as he came inside him.

"Fuck yes! Good boy!"

It was so humiliating, his soft cock becoming the receptacle of another man's load, his balls being fed their cum for once rather than doling it out. James collapsed back into the chair, still watching in some morbid fascination as his Master pulled himself free from his member and wiped his cummy cock clean against his thigh, all before tucking himself back into his own pants as if nothing had even happened. James could feel the dog's load leaking from his cock, the alien warmth sliding down his gaping shaft that was now by far too loose to even consider if he'll close up again. Not that it was for him to worry about. It wasn't his cock, it was Master's, and he sighed tiredly as he felt the dog slip three fingers into his stretched shaft and massage his manhood from the inside,

"Such a good boy... We've still got a way to go, but you'll be taking my dick inside yours in no time." The canine leant forward as he stood up and kissed the zebra's sweaty forehead, nuzzling those tear-streaked cheeks as he held his slave close, "You did so well though, I'm so proud of you. Well done, boy."

James nodded. The memory of tonight was imprinted in his brain, forever etched there, never to be forgotten. But Master would take him to this level again soon, he knew that. Perhaps under better circumstances, but this was nowhere near the end - and James loved it.

"Good boy. I love you, Jim." Some straps were released, enough to let Master bring the zebra's lax body into his own to cuddle softly to his chest. No care was paid to the spittle that drooled from James's slack mouth as it spattered against Master's shirt - clothes could be washed. But the canine was quick to comfort the broken stallion and reassure him of his place. "I'm so proud of you for doing that. You did good. You're my good boy, you know that? Nobody else's: mine."

Shivering and hurting as he was, James buried himself into the crook of Master's arm, savouring the soothing warmth and gentle musk of the dog's scent, his body winding down from an overspent session. He was a good boy. He was Master's good boy. And he was pleased.