Staying For Good

Story by Zwoosh on SoFurry

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#2 of Staying For You

A sponsored sequel to the story formerly called 'Staying For Dinner' and retitled 'Staying For Once', this story follows some time after the events of the first, which you can read here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/803719

We catch up with Derek, adjusting to a new life with the precocious and sly Randy easing his way into every aspect of his life. Things have taken a stark turn and it would seem the dragon's life has been completely unraveled and reshaped by the panther into a submissive's heaven and hell.

Sponsored by Kokuhane


My whole body convulsed in spasms of dangerous prickling electricity as his paw made one final, heaving grope of my inner guts before he pulled his arm free. That sickly, sucking sensation of a large mass evacuating your ass had my muscles tightening, everything seizing up and a frightened, lusty whimper flee my throat as he yanked his fist free. In the emptiness I shuddered. I could feel my hole literally gasp about the absence of his paw, my hole not particularly closing, my dark red flesh still on show now doubt, until my natural anatomy finally kicked back in and I felt the rim suck back closed. Hot sweat shone on my scales as I hung there limply in the shackles, held aloft by my own cuffed wrists that were hoisted up from the rafters as I lost the strength. Relief washed over me instead and nestled itself in my hollow gut where his forearm had just been, soothing the cold yearning for him to slide his limb back into me again.

Not that I would ever dare tell him that. He'd already gotten so much out of me. Admitting I liked it when he stretched my ass with his paws and fucked me with his arms would have been salt to an already old, lingering wound that I don't know would ever heal at this point.

"You're getting better at that," I heard the panther chuckle as he snatched a towel from the bench, dabbing down his lube-slick arm, "Almost to the elbow."

I didn't respond. Or rather, I couldn't. Between my teeth I dug down on the hard black ball of rubber he had pushed into my mouth. I suckled on the bland taste of it, the chemical nothingness that made every swallow remind me I was at his mercy. What made it worse, I feel, was that it wasn't mine. None of it was, not really, not anymore. Ever since that disaster of a night when Randy had made himself man of the house in just about every facet, he'd turned everything into his own personal palace. He lived rent free in my home, ate my food, lounged around as if he owned the place - though he very much did at this point - and any time I thought finally I'll stand up to him and get him out, reclaim my life, he'd just square up to me, all that feline muscle and snarling grin, and he'd call my bluff. Because I was always bluffing, and he knew that.

My gym was gone. It had been co-opted by the cat and turned into his own little dungeon for which he could train and torture me. One night of slipping up had cost me everything from my freedom to my bank account. When the first load of parcels and shipments had started arriving after just a week into this new living arrangement I had been pissed, I kicked up a storm and threatened bloody murder, but Randy had casually signed on any clipboard thrust before him and fixed me with a cold, dirty stare. He dared me to try anything, to go against him, and so I stood there dumbfounded as my once idyllic family home was reshaped into this jock's play pad. I think I nearly had an aneurism when I was forced to sit back and watch as he invited decorators into my own home and strutted into the gym to repaint and restructure everything...

"To think, just a few months ago I looked up to you," Randy snickered as he threw the towel across one of the few workout benches that still remained, "Big muscle daddy, every guy in school wanted to be like you, and then I learnt the truth." He disappeared from my view, but he kept talking, as if his voice were in my ear still chirping away and singing such sweet sordid things to me, "Now I've got my own personal bitch, a hot hunk of a man, and you know what the best part is?" If he wanted me to respond, he would have given me the chance, though the gag between my lips dribbling across the floor stopped any words from making it out my mouth. But he barely waited a single breath before I felt something huge, thick and solid, slide its way past my defences. It was giant, wider than anything I'd ever taken before and I practically howled into the rubber ball as Randy pushed it deep into my ass. I felt my legs lift off the ground as my weight bore against it, the panther's arm hooking around my abdomen to keep me close so that he could shove every inch of the plug into my guts, and with one push of his beefy arms it fell flush against my rump. I shook in frustration against the cuffs and my whole body trembled under the strain, but as Randy moved his paw away after patting the base a few times for good, teasing measure, it was clear the toy wasn't going anywhere. I heard him snicker, that self-satisfied, greedy snicker that you just knew was his, "That you fucking agreed to all of this."

He wasn't entirely incorrect. That first slip had been my fault. I hadn't stood my ground, I'd let my libido get the better of me, but every moment since then? It had been all his doing. He'd stolen my wallet, cut himself a copy of my keys, he even bloody switched the Wi-Fi over to his name so that when I'd called complaining of issues with the internet I had felt every ounce of blood in my body burning on my face as a sweet lady over the phone had told me I was no longer on the contract. Every part of my life was now infested with his control. Even my private life which before I'd kept so closely guarded I figured at the very least I would have that as a sanctuary, but the panther had found a way into my boss's pockets, and he'd already introduced himself to my circle of friends that it seemed like nothing was intact anymore.

I still remembered the cold pit my stomach had dropped into when I'd finished my morning workout...

"I cancelled your plans tonight." We were meant to be going out for steak... I had been looking forward to it.

"I sent a text to the 'gang' and told 'em you were gonna be busy with some pussy. They seemed to buy it."

In his paws, without a single shred of shame or guilt, he had held my phone, tapping through fuck knows what and completely without my discretion. Three months ago and I'd have knocked a man out cold for daring to invade my privacy, but I just stood there, holding back a whimper as my body betrayed me, responding to some warped arousal that I got off this. It felt disgusting, but still I couldn't help but get hard even just at remembering it all.

"They really don't know you're a fag, do they?"

If I knew him, he'd reveal all to them eventually. He'd get some kick of that. Either it'd break the friendships or he'd taint them and turn them into something else altogether...

The thought of the guys taking their turns with me was always a common fantasy, but Randy might actually make it a reality someday. Another secret I couldn't tell him, for fear of what it might do, for fear that I might actually like it.

A felt a paw envelope my straining cock, stroking the throbbing length and making me shudder all the more. My ass clenched against the thick plug as my hips bucked into Randy's paw, but all he did was thumb at the fat Prince Albert he'd forced me to get. I'd rather not think about that day, when he'd driven my bound and gagged in the back of my own fucking truck to the panther's buddy's piercing salon... Solid gold and every attempt I'd made to remove them had earned me the panther's fury. The feline's temper was ferocious if provoked enough that I'd learned just to keep him pacified by whatever means necessary.

"Does the old man need to cum?" He cooed into my ear as his other paw pushed at the base of the plug in my ass. I felt a too intense pressure grind against my prostate. It had been so long since he'd let me cum... "I can't remember the last time I've let you..." Randy seemed to think for a moment, as if seriously contemplating the last time he had let me shoot my load, as if he didn't know the exact moment like I did. He pretended to think long and hard about when he had me chained up in the sling he had bought, riding his cock for the hundredth time that day with his claws digging against my nipples and my ass red raw from the flogging, and he had allowed me ten seconds to cum paws free or else I wasn't allowed for the rest of the night. He acted as if he hadn't mocked me mercilessly for taking less than three as I yowled from the pit of my lungs as I'd finally unloaded all over myself, and then force fed me my own seed as he let off yet another orgasm into my ass, adding already to the sloppy loads that slushed about in my gut.

He pretended not to remember, huffing indifferently to himself,

"Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter. Maybe I shouldn't let you cum after all, since I can't remember how long it's been..." Bitter frustration rose in my throat again like bile. I groaned behind the gag, rattled my chains, thrust against his paw in needy desperation, "But I suppose I shouldn't leave you hanging..."

I didn't see what he had in his paw, but I felt it. Only his muzzle was in sight over my shoulder as I felt something clip against the ring pierced through my head. A soft clink of metal, the snap of something, and then I roared all over again into the ball gag as abruptly a sharp weight tore at my cock. I strangled to breathe through my nose, acute agony blossoming from my member as my eyes flashed down, watching my once proud cock sag over its own curve, painfully hard yet all the same buckling under this weight, and there below swinging now between my thighs was a metal disc, perhaps no bigger than the palm of my paw. It felt like a tonne already from just a few seconds enduring the mass dangling from my tool, hooked against the piercing, but as I sniffled pleading begs against the gag, each one coming out as a suffused moan, Randy made no indication that he would remove it any time soon.

His presence behind me stepped away, and so there I stood, hanging from my wrists, a bar spread between my ankles, cock throbbing hard and the urge to cum so fervent on my brain that it just about washed out the pain that scored its way now through my crotch, but I couldn't ignore the pulsing mass of the plug in my butt, my rim clenching pathetically down to no avail as it sat there, occupying my guts and keeping my prostate smothered. Drool dripped from my gag, fresh and slobbery, as I my head drooped limply against my sore shoulders, muscles burning from hours of play.

I just wanted to cum, that was all. He could do anything so long as I could cum.

"Oh sorry, I didn't catch that," he cooed as he strutted his way back into my view. Hanging there, suffering under the onslaught in multitude, I could barely lift my head to meet his gaze. But when I did all I was met were his merciless, burning eyes. I never would have pegged Randy to be a sadist, but it was something I was swiftly learning as he had reshaped my life over the past few months. He got a thrill on seeing a strong, fatherly figure breaking down under his will that much was clear, "Was one kilogram not enough? You'd let me know if you wanted more, right?"

I didn't have a chance to react other than the mewls of a 'no' bursting from my chest. With a quick flourish he had clicked another weight to the first and I felt the piercing pull down hard on my cock, a steady burn now creeping up my slit and deep into my groin as anatomy that should not be stretched was tortured. I howled behind the gag, frustrated and in agony, yanking at my restraints with all the energy I could muster, but it was counterintuitive. The weights swung with every miniscule movement I made and so for all my writhing and flailing I was only making my situation worse. My cock swayed with the chain, metal clinking softly as the weight pulled me down, and arms overbearing my body as I tried to alleviate the tension. But there was no escape, it was best just to keep as still as possible and snort through my nose rapid, panicked breaths until the pain ebbed to some more manageable state. Even then it was too much, but it was better than suffering the weights jangling around. I became all too aware of their presence, of the pain that scored my cock, as much as I couldn't help but focus upon the plug sitting within my guts, leaving me no room to feel normal again.

Randy stepped out in front of me and settled himself down in an office chair he'd dragged into the room. My office chair, the executive suite one I had bought as a treat to myself when Clark had finally gone to high school... It had been a mark of my maturation, a symbol to myself that I was an independent man who'd survived a world raising a kid on my own with a sexuality few were thrilled about. But there the panther sat in it, half my age and more diminutive in stature than myself - though by no means less impressive - clothed in a loose fitting tank top that bared all, including the stench of his ample pits, and baggy joggers that did not at all hide his endowment. His legs were spread apart, inviting me to gaze upon his form, paws lifted behind his head, arms raised, armpits on show, every single thing about him exposed to demonstrate just what masculine power he wielded, rubbing his sweaty build all over the rich leather so that I'd never forget his scent. Hanging there, cock on fire, ass plugged, and drool streaming from my gagged maw, I could do nothing but watch him with pitiful eyes as a horrendous swamp of submission overcame me.

The question that preyed on my mind was what now? What more could the feline want to do to me that he hadn't done already. Every part of my body worth his attention was raging in an inferno of pain, but he just sat there, lifting his arms behind his head, reclining back as he watched me tremble uncontrollably and whimper behind the gag at the flashes of pain ricocheting through my system.

"So, old man," Randy began, taking a deep snort and clearing his throat, "We need to talk, 'cause whilst I'm happy with all the progress we've made so far, I need to know we're in this for the long haul."

What was he talking about? The past few months have been nothing but him encroaching on my way of life piece by piece, laying his claims to whatever he chose and me not having enough of a backbone to stand up against him. It was so confusing, I was the older male, the bigger male, the alpha male - or so I thought - yet when he sidled up to me purring up a storm and whispering all sorts of dirty things down my ear, it's like I became a different person altogether. It was like he unlocked some hidden side I'd kept shrouded for so long and now, pent up and starving, it would throttle my senses and obliterate any rationality I had. He'd cut his own keys to my front and back doors, turned my gym into his personal playroom, positioned himself as the man of the house, and he'd even begun to leave some of his shit in Clark's room. What more could he possibly want that he hasn't already stolen from me without as much as a fight?

"We've been doing this song and dance for what, four, five months? I'm getting bored of skulking around like I don't own your ass and let's just say dad - my real dad, not you - is starting to get bitchy about me not having a job or my own place, so I'm thinking, two birds, one stone, right?"

I did not like where this was going. I grunted behind my gag, shook my head in defiance, anything to cut him off, but any slight movement sent my cock into a fiery pain, and my knees quivered as the plug inside me threatened to slip. Wilfully I forced myself to clamp down on the toy, breathe sharply through the agony, eyes clenched shut and dribbling down my chin.

"See, I knew you'd agree! You don't want your favourite guy in all the world kicked out onto the streets. You want him well fed, strong, and attentive to all your needs." Randy reached out with one footpaw, and much like any feral pet feline, he flicked at the swinging weights below my crotch with a bat of his sole, causing me to desperately howl behind the gag, the sound lost to my chest, "I was thinking I'd just take your room, since let's face it, I'm gonna be spending loads more time in there than you, as you'll be in here honing your new skills."

New skills? What the fuck was he talking about?! My lungs felt like they were exhausted as I sucked long, slow breaths, trying to calm the rise of panic and pain that flourished in my gut. My world was getting picked apart. Randy had since slain the idyllic lifestyle I'd once left and nourished himself on the carcass, but now he was picking the bones clean and taking every last morsel I had left to possibly offer him. I glared at him, nostrils flaring, as he smiled so innocently back at me,

"You know the ones. You've impressed me so far with what you can do, but I know you can do better. I'll help you set up a new regimen of throat and ass training, really get both those holes opened up for you, and we'll make sure that you get a good workout. I'll supervise, I know you've been dying to try out the new gear I've bought for you." He tilted his head, rubbing a paw down his front, stopping only at his crotch as he groped the swollen bulge protruding through the sweatpants, "Oh, by the way, thanks for those, nice little gift from yourself, even if you didn't order them."

So the bastard _had_been in my wallet! I knew something was up from the moment I'd figured out that I kept losing it all over the house. I'd place it in a draw, be unable to find it the next day, and it'd turn up a day after that on the kitchen counter as if left there for me to find. Nothing stolen, nothing out of place, just suspicious. The panther had been siphoning off some of my savings for himself, probably to just indulge his greedy indulgences, fuck knows what else. But I had no idea what the hell he'd been buying. I had just assumed it was meaningless shit, meals out, drinks at a bar, cheap hookers, whatever the fuck he was really into other than me. It itched deep down in my head that he was using me like this, sliding himself into every possible space of my life that had so far been untainted by his existence. First it was my son - which I'll admit hadn't bothered me - then it was my workouts, then he made his huge leap into my private, intimate life, and now he was just sniping off whatever left before I had a chance to save it. My friends, my finances, even my freedom now.

I was the panther's bitch.

The thought made my whole body just shudder, gruesome and deep, until my core revolted.

Randy lifted himself out of his chair - out of my chair - and sauntered off in his classic style of smugness. He was enjoying every second of this, his tail kicking up a storm as it tossed to and fro all over the place, darting like a snake in the grass. As he slipped behind me, I was left with the empty scene of my gym-turned-dungeon, shaking under the restraints as I hung like a piece of meat waiting to be tenderised. My gut would always drop as I took in the subtle adjustments the panther had been making to the room. The various hooks drilled into the walls, crossbeams and scaffolding that had been crudely adapted into all manner of furniture for his nasty use. The workout equipment was still there, albeit now drenched in this feeling that every time I stepped in here it wasn't simply to physically workout and lose myself to the endorphins of exercise, but to be mentally and emotionally challenged as well, enduring whatever new tortures he had prepared.

Behind me there came the soft thump of something light against an outstretched palm. Rhythmic and mocking, it beat a slow, taunting tempo that took an eternity between thuds, only cut with my own laboured breathing. I heard him chuckle, if not for me then only for himself, as the panther strutted back up to me. I could feel him, his presence shifting close, and then his body was behind mine, one arm encircling my hips, fingers and claws running up along my abdomen and up to my chest, whilst the other offered me what he held in his grasp. Presented before me was something that took a moment to recognise, nothing from my own toy box, something new Randy had gone and clearly bought by my card...

It was simple in design, perhaps a foot and a half in length, with a smooth face of polished leather. Brushed soft and supple, it was by no means a cheap knock-off, but one that had clearly cost the dollar that had been spent on it. Fine, elegant stitching bordered its edges, barely noticeable as Randy twisted the paddle in his paw, rotating it upon its handle and presenting its other face, almost as perfectly clean were it not for the indented lettering that adorned it. Each character had been cut into the black leather revealing an iridescent red beneath, spelling out just a single word that chilled me to my core.

Slave.

"I can tell you like it," Randy said, fingers toying with my aching nipples, "I know exactly what you like. And if you don't, which I strongly doubt, then you can learn to like it. Like a good boy."

I could feel my whole body trembling in fear of it, something so implacably inanimate and never before crossed into my idea of a 'good time', but there it was. Everything so far I'd been subjected to had always grown from ideas revolving around my own collection of toys and trinkets, coloured by Randy's rapidly developing imagination. Up until now, torturous though it might have been, was always something I could look back on with resentful lust. It made me long to be under his paw again, to be able to have the chance to reluctantly beg for more, to chime praises to his name and relish everything he doled out onto me, but I had never been interested in impact play, even before Randy had shattered everything. I just liked to teased and worked over, made to feel good slowly and constantly, until it was just too much, even if that teasing involved a little pain, but spanking or whatever else that came with it, it had just seemed... too much? But then again, I had never expected to find myself the willing bitch of my son's childhood friend, things were already fucked up enough.

Randy cooed down my ear, holding me near him as his arm hugged close at him waist, my plugged rump pressed up to his crotch. His weight was pressed against me, clothed though he was, and he embraced my shivering body with a strange intimacy,

"It'll be okay, I know it's new. We'll start off easy, and go from there." He patted my stomach, slapping against the taut muscle, "Okay? How does ten sound?"

He wanted an answer. If his voice didn't convey then his paw did, cupping and groping my protruding cheeks like I was a piece of meat. But then again I was just that, meat to be tenderised. Randy's fingers kneaded into my muscles and urged me for an answer, willing me to give in. It wasn't a simple yes or no question, it wasn't an offer of bowing out, but a suggestion of compromise. I knew well enough about this side of my sex life that no was seldom ever the end of things unless absolute, but here was a chance to yield. Tonight he may go easy, but further down the line he would be sure that 'easy' and 'hard' were barely indistinguishable for me. I had never had an interest in impact play before, but now something sparked, sputtering in the darkness of my sexuality that I'd never considered. And I could feel it begin to glow.

I grunted something of an approval, nodding my head, eyes clenched shut already in apprehension of those first swings. His body shifted away from mine.

"Good boy."

His paw remained on my hip, providing something of a support to steady me, and hunched over as I was, shackled and tacked like some kind of livestock, he drew his arm back. I didn't see, there was little to hear, but I could feel his body language change, something subtle and discreet as he wound back the paddle and prepared. A soft hiss followed, air displaced by the approaching pain, and then it collided with my hide. A gentle slap, hard enough to sound, light enough not to sting, but I felt it. The rap of its flat surface rippled against my cheeks and in an instant I thought it wasn't so bad, but I knew better. He wound for a second smack and when it struck I felt the prickle begin. You can sense it, even if the sensation wasn't fully flaring, knowing that somewhere it's beginning to burn, just against the underside of your skin where undoubtedly your flesh would smart red soon enough. His third slap of the paddle surged that feeling into something stronger, flourishing under the leather as I breathed sharply through my nose.

He was counting each strike softly, but distinctly, loud enough so that I could hear, but not to terrify me. It helped me keep pace, expecting however many more and however many had come so far, and so far we had reach three and as the fourth came with the sultry tone of voice I felt the air push from my lungs. Pain lurched in my rump, my hole clenched ever tighter around the plug left inside me, and suddenly I was just that much more aware of my behind. A burn licked its way across my cheeks as the cool paddle left my hot skin, leaving behind now what must have been a bright, brilliant shade of pink scales.

The fifth had a stronger effect and I jutted forward as it hit my buttocks, my muscles jiggling, my pants snorted and shallow, as I swallowed a howl of agony. It was like holding onto hot metal for too long, flushed in boiling water, and rather than instinct to pull out or pull away, the feeling remained, throbbing and insidious, refusing to ever abate, only to grow distinctly sharper and colder though ever painful. My howl came swilling up my throat as the sixth paddled my tender ass with a blind indifference. Randy held me tight as I bellowed, eyes squeezed shut and gritting my teeth upon the gag, I wheezed absently and desperately as he calmly counted six. As I heard him say seven, drowned in the sea of agony, I squealed again, the sound wet and rough, and my whole body was shifting in a fidgeting pain. It was as if my impulses were forcing me to flee the discomfort, but no matter where I went it always followed, right upon my cheeks, always there and never leaving, and the air against my flesh now felt icy and jagged.

I couldn't bear to take eight, and though trapped as I was, I did my best to evade it, thrusting myself away from Randy's oncoming swing and throwing my vision in vain over my shoulder trying to see where it was. I ignored the swell of new pain at my cock as weights swung, and I didn't care how the plug felt as it shifted inside of me, winding in my guts and twisting as I too twisted to get away. The panther held firm however and despite eight never finding my backside just yet, he paused his counting and gripped my hips,

"Calm down, you're doing well." He steadied me in his grasp and waited out my hysteria, keeping me still as my breathing slowed back down. The pain wasn't going anywhere, as much as I begged myself not to focus on it, begged it to disappear, still throbbing away under my skin, but the reprieve was welcomed immensely. I nuzzled myself against Randy's shoulder as he moved before me, whether he cared for my saliva-drizzled chin smeared against his tank I wouldn't know, but he made no effort to stop me. A paw placed itself on the back of my head, rubbing a space just between my horns, and a thumb smoothed over the dazzling scales, "That's it, just breathe, work through the pain. Let yourself give in."

A sub-drop; a state of whatever you wanted to call it where the submissive truly sinks and submits almost trance-like. I'd heard of it, knew enough about it, but had never thought I'd find myself in that position of grappling with its idea. But today seemed like a day where all the stops were being pulled, and though I doubt I would go as far as Randy would like - though he seemed to recognise I never would have gotten that far anyway - it was a path I was going to be taken down.

I did find myself lost in his nape, my nose just inches away from his pits and my cheek resting against the tight pectorals of his chest, like some kind of makeshift cushion. It was comforting to be there, held in his embrace, though plugged, gagged, and agonised as I was. Everything had steadied to a constant. The weights were no longer swinging so wildly and straining on my cock, returning to the ache they once held before, and though my muscles were sore and tired, I didn't have to think about them as I leant my mass against the panther. I could just be drifting in his smell, his warmth, and his hold, all sensation just bleeding into one feeling of content pain. I could breathe again, and with my mind clearing I swallowed back the primal fear.

My head was pulled away from the safety of Randy's chest, and I felt his paw lifting my chin until I was met with his asserting gaze,

"Better?" I nodded. "Good, we've still got three more, you only got up to seven."

He was right, after all, and bitterly I sucked in my breath and braced myself, once more feeling him wind back that arm and surge forward on his eighth swing. The paddle collided with my cheeks and renewed fire blistered on my hide, my hips juddering under the force and the echoed sensation of tight, bursting pain. My hole clenched hard on the toy, feeling uncomfortable as it sat inside my guts, and my cock, somewhere confused in the midst of pain and pleasure, tried to harden despite the weights pulling it downward. I had barely registered Randy counting nine when the paddle struck me again and once more the blinding white flash of stabbing pain washed across my vision, my body tensing within its restraints as he hollered all over. I snarled a sob behind the gag and willed my mind to just let go of everything and lose it all to the agony that wracked me as Randy met his tenth strike. I felt the contact, the impact splintering against my cheeks with the resounding snap of flesh and leather connecting, and I barely breathed, barely uttered a sound, silently screaming inside my head as the sensation oozed into one intense feeling.

No more came after that, I had met Randy's quota and he seemed pleased with my performance. I don't know what he did with the paddle as two paws ensnared me in his arms, one pushing my jaw back so that my head was resting against his nape, the other again returning to press my hip with his. I could feel the slight roughness of his top against my sweating back, my smarting cheeks stinging as they scratched against his shorts, his bulge impossible to ignore as it settled within the cleft of my buttocks, reminding me just exactly how turned on he was by my submission. I didn't fight him, I just felt the strength sap from me as he held me there, rubbing his palms over my body, instilling some normal feeling back to my senses. I was the survivor or trauma, body rekindled into being 'alive', the dull, burning ache of phantom paddles against my cheeks still throbbing, drawing blood swelling up to the surface until they blushed against the purple hide. I could feel it, the air so raw against my buttocks that it was impossible not to know, and knowing the man who had inflicted them now held me close seemed to dissuade no sense of pain or fear on my part.

"Good boy," he purred into my air, nuzzling against the back of my neck, truly giving me a sense of our size difference. Suddenly my mind recalled that I was twice his senior, twice his size, an older man compared to just the boy, yet somehow I had wound up with that title, amongst many others he'd thrown my way. I had become his 'boy'. "Feel better? Here, let's give you a moment to breathe..."

His paws moved to my head, and the tightness clamped around my skull slackened, and I found the gag snug in my maw became loose. As he pulled the gear from my muzzle, I worked my tired jaw and spat the ball out, my mouth feeling unnaturally dry as I could breathe deeply and freely.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you sir..." I begrudgingly responded, but I felt myself give each word far more meaning than I'd consciously thought. They were too real, sitting on my tongue as I expelled them with startling sincerity.

"Good boy, does that feel better?" I nodded my head. Between all the other clawing feelings that wrought on my body, my jaw being free was a small but wholly welcome relief. The weights still hung from my cock, the plug still occupied my ass, and now my rump smarted as if embers lingered upon the hide itself.

Randy pulled my head to his, and in an unexpected twist his lips snuck to mine, kissing me deeply and without warning. I was caught off guard by the sudden tenderness, though he had been surprisingly compassionate in his own small ways as of late, especially with his rampant interests escalating what he did to me behind closed doors. Perhaps I should have known better, that any kindness was always and forever entangled with strings attached to it, or more precisely to the abrupt lurch in weight that sunk at my cock. I thrashed in the bindings and howled against his mouth, though his pressed lips suffocated any noise, as he must have attached another weight to my already strained cock. I wanted to beg him to remove it, but his paw held my head firm and his tongue explored the inner workings of my mouth, until my smothered pleas became little more than fraught whimpers.

When he pulled away, leaving behind a lewd trail of spit, he smirked at me as I trembled, suffering the heightened torment,

"All good?" I could only answer yes. He would only add more otherwise. "I bet those arms must be sore."

They were indeed agonising, but I didn't say a word, I bit my tongue as I watched him unshackle me from the ceiling, allowing me to nurse my aching arms as they were lowered. No longer bound to the roof beam, they were still however cuffed to each other, and like a prisoner I stood before him, unsure of what would come next now, still very much at the panther's mercy.

I was led by the wrists, pulled with the panther's paw wrapped around the connecting chain between the cuffs, over to one of the benches I use for pressing, where my cuffs were then tied to the bar across the rack. I was forced to hobble over, the weights hanging from my cock swinging wildly whilst my hips were splayed apart from the toy lodged in my ass. Randy didn't seem to pay it any mind as he wound the rope tight and tugged to ensure there was nothing loose. Weights far too heavy for me to lift on either end of the bar I was now connected to confirmed I would get no escape. Not that it was what I had in mind, but I was distinctly aware of the fact that Randy was making sure I knew he was getting into my head and reminding me who was in control.

I stood there awkwardly, paws level at my crotch, as I wondered what this was all for. Again I observed the panther with a critical eye as he strode around me with purpose, moving quite a distance away behind me until I heard him stop.

"Move back towards me, hold onto the bar until you're at ninety degrees."

He could have been serious? To satiate him I shuffled backwards, bent at the hip, half my weight leant against the bench as I manoeuvred myself close to him. But he wasn't playing around, it wasn't a game to him, and his paws grabbed at my hips and began to pull me back further until I was forced to hold myself up with my arms, paws clenched around the metal bar, already in an uncomfortable position as I found myself staring dead at the floor, hunched over at the sharp, absolute angle. It was an unforgiving, unflattering position, and as I held it, arms rigid as they took my weight, I shuddered as now I could see the hanging weights properly for myself, drifting to and fro from my leaking cock.

Randy crouched beside me in this new position, and in his paws he held yet new devices of torment. Clamps, something from my own collection, and he leaned underneath my mass and reached for the furthest nipple from him, fixing one clamp tightly to the nub accompanied with my own hiss of light pain. The second clamp, expectedly, was fixed to my other nipple, and I easily adjusted to the feeling. It was pitifully nothing compared to what Randy had put me through, and even before he had unleashed his torrent of abuse on me since Clark's departure, I had used the clamps myself as commonplace when masturbating. I had grown so used to their presence that it was almost impossible not to cum without them. But of course the feline had to throw in his own flair and my eyes widened as he produced from his seemingly never-ending supply yet more weights, and between the connecting chain that hung between either clamp he let each weight sag, yanking on my nipples as one by one he added to the blocks of metal. Each one made me wince and whine at, but they went unheeded by the panther until he had matched the number on my nipples as were on my cock. In his paws he still held more, but for now he seemed content to watch me struggle as I held the weights aloft by my own volition, the weights freely hanging and swinging with every twitch and spasm my body made.

A paw smacked itself against the plug in my ass, albeit lightly. Still it sent a ripple of fire up through my guts, a sting that made me clench my teeth and hiss, an instinct to pull away from the sensation as if to escape, but self-control compelled me to stay as still as I could so as to not aggravate the weights swinging from my nipples and cock. I was very much focused on the toy too which shifted in my guts, the new position almost forcing it back out of my hole as now, with my legs stretched apart and my weight shifted, it pressed against the inside of my rim as if begging to be released. Randy patted the base, softly pressing it a little deeper, chuckling as he saw me squirm and listened to every whimper I made.

"I bet you like being filled, don't you?" I didn't respond. "I think you'd prefer the real thing though."

Much like everything Randy did, his next act came without warning, all too soon and all too much; I strangled back a cry in my throat as I felt his claws sink around the base of the plug and pull. He pulled hard and firmly, dragging the toy back until my rim gave way and relinquished the solid mass. My guts expelled it into his paw, as soon as the pressure was released my muscles collapsed on the toy, a rich, wet gulp of lube and air spurting from my gaped ass until the plug was removed entirely. I felt incredibly hollow, like a tunnel, the flesh of my guts reshaped and softened by the intruder that had been sitting inside me for so long. Some part of me needed it back, to feel whole again, and as I felt my rim clench and suckle upon empty air, it didn't take long for Randy to appease that slither of myself that was giving in to him.

I think he had stripped down, I mean he must have done, but I was stuck looking at the floor as I felt him approach me from behind. He slapped his fat cock head against my hole, relishing and toying with the slew of lube that poured and smeared my ass, and he ground his length between my cheeks just teasingly. Whether he was impatient though or not in the mood for foreplay, he leaned back, positioned his manhood, and then in one thrust impaled himself inside me.

Again my impulse was to buck away, suddenly full much too fast, and compared to the toy he was far larger in girth and length. He probed somewhere deep in my gut, poking just under my stomach, past my abdomen, and I whimpered at the sensation. His barbs pricked at my innards as he settled himself into a stance where he could lazily but effectively pull back and forth, riding his meat into my ass slowly. I couldn't lie to myself, it did feel much better to have something real, something warm and alive sliding its way inside me, but I didn't dare tell Randy that. Leisurely he leant forward and then drew back, slipping from tip to base, just letting his inches slime their way through my body as I hunched there, bent over and shuddering from the weights dragging on my nipples, pulling on my cock, doing my best not to tremble as he pushed forward and made me tilt or twitch.

"There, bet that feels much better now, now that you've got a real man inside of you." He purred to himself, paws kneading at my still burning cheeks, groping the reddened hide underneath his palms and squeezing them tight until I drank back a hiss of pain, "It's like putting on a glove, you know that? I remember the first time I fucked you, might as well have been a virgin, but now you don't bitch when I fuck you, you just open it up for me like a good boy."

I felt his weight slowly drop onto me, his chest leaning down against my back, and suddenly I was holding both of us up by my own strength alone as his paws wrapped around my torso. He embraced me in his arms, a tight grip I couldn't escape, and he kept rolling his hips idly and casually, "Isn't that right? You like being open for your master, you like your sloppy pussy being fucked by him?" I was expected to answer, I really didn't want to but I grunted a response. It would have satisfied him in any other moment, but there and then had him yanking on the weights attached to my nipples, sending them into screams of pain, "Isn't that right?" He repeated, the syllables firmer, grittier, as he licked a tongue against my ear.

"Yes sir..."

He snickered, just like the bastard he was,

"Thought so."

He pushed himself back up, grasping at my waist, as he began to fuck me harder and faster. He beat out his own pace, riding me without remorse as he kept time with his own whims. I was just a victim to his need, willing though I might have been in whatever sense of the word, but feeling his manhood slide into me was something I had been longing. It was humiliating to admit, not to just to him but to myself included, that I had yearned for this every waking moment of my day. There wasn't a second that would go by where if I wasn't at his footpaws suffering some new torment that my mind was wandering to thoughts of what I would do for him to please him, all in an effort to feel him pushing deep inside. I needed that feeling of him inside me, be it his cock, his fist, his fluids, I just needed it. It had become so degrading that I think even he was beginning to catch the addiction that he'd fostered in me, and I think he was beginning to find ways of exploiting it, making me confirm aloud that it was him I wanted most.

Slamming into me hard, he held himself for a moment as he was balls deep, and I could feel him twisting his body, leaning somewhere, and then he was back again. I would have wondered what he was doing, but my thoughts were snuffed quickly as I felt a sharp, sagging pain stab at my cock and nipples. Randy was adding more weights, just one for now, but I could hear him holding others in his paw, the clink of metal, the press of their sides as it balanced them on the broad of my back as if a child laying out their playthings. He continued to fuck me as I endured the new added mass, huffing and panting at the exertion, quivering as his length rode against my prostate. I so badly wanted to cum, but the pain was excruciating, confusing even, and I couldn't maintain an erection strong enough to lift the weights up. My cock was forced to limp, not quite hard but not quite soft, dripping all the same as Randy fucked me.

Even time passed for me to adjust to the new weights, but the moment I felt I was perhaps accustomed to their straining, aching pull that sent waves of agony through my chest and crotch, Randy would add one more. Again he'd let me grow used to its feeling, whimpering and grunting as he pounded my ass, and then he would add one more. I don't know how long this went on for because it grew too difficult to count, but I could watch the growing number of weights slipping onto the chains hanging from my body. It was almost obscene the level to which Randy was pushing it, until any sensation of pleasure was gone, just an intense agony that bled into the euphoria of being fucked.

I remembered the first time he had mounted me as if it were yesterday, yet still it felt like an age had passed where we were now somehow at the point where this felt utterly normal, even enjoyable to me. Suffering though I might have been, feeling loose yet altogether full with my ass suckling on his cock, every stroke of his barbs along my inner walls, his throbbing girth holding me open wider than the plug or his arm ever could have, it felt right to be bent over there, clenched teeth and sweating as we panted together. Every swing and sway of the weights brought renewed waves of agonising pain through my body, and deep down, whenever my cock would struggle and pitifully lurch as it seized with blood, I could feel a need to cum. It wasn't something like an orgasm, it didn't come close, it was more just pressure. An overwhelming discomfort as if I had gone for so long without cumming that my body was resorting to some manual state in order to flush out the load. The pain kept my nerves distracted however, and despite Randy's cock driving into me, throwing me ever closer to what had to be an orgasm, there was no way I could be pushed past the brink under such agony.

Finally I heard him clear his throat, and he picked up the last weight in his paw, and it hovered beneath me as he held it aloft,

"Last one, it's the heaviest." I saw him turn it in his paw, a far larger size compared to the rest, a thick, grubby looking ball of metal whose dulled surface barely stood out against the black of his paw, "Where do you want it going? Nipples or cock?"

I didn't want to answer him. I thought that if I didn't answer he wouldn't bother, that he would cum and be done with the whole thing before he would attach it to me, but he lingered, sliding himself an inch back and forth inside me, waiting. In my mind I didn't know which would have been better. My cock was used to the pain but any more and I might pass out. My nipples though, they might have been 'fresher' in some sense, but I could already see the protrusions of flesh stark white from the strain and already they felt tight and sore. I didn't know which to say.

"I guess I'll just decide for you then."

I froze in place as his paw dashed to my cock, and I bellowed aloud as he dropped the weight onto the collection already swinging from my piercing. My body went numb as an explosion of pain rocked through my crotch, followed by an immediate, intense heat. I watched, dumbfounded and horrified, as my stretched cock began to throb, twitch, and then splutter as dregs of cum - it had to be, it couldn't have been anything else - seeped from my head. I was in utter agony but still my 'climax' came. There was no sensation of release or pleasure, just an unbearable burn that ebbed in waves, flooding along my nerves and making me cry out as Randy fucked me hard. He turned feral at the sound of my suffering and hunched over me he railed my ass like never before, slapping against my bruised cheeks with a ferocity I seldom saw in him.

I don't know if he came, I couldn't tell, but he seemed to be satisfied, pulling himself from my ass unceremoniously and slapping my already far too sore cheeks. He threw himself into my chair, rolled himself along until he was beside me, panting and huffing as he nursed his dick, and he stroked his cock before my face. Without a word he jacked himself off, pulling at his balls and running his paw through the slick lube smeared along his shaft, until he too was grunting and gasping in a far better pleasure than I'd endured. With a final humiliating touch, he aimed his cock for mine, just as he was about to cum, and unleashed his load against my tortured manhood, soaking it in his seed and marking it as his.

Still I stayed there, holding my weight up as best I could, weights still hanging from my body, dripping in his seed, as I waited for whatever came next.