Breaking in a Toy — 12
#12 of Breaking in a Toy
There was a dearth of hands and a great big void of labor to be filled back at camp, and I was requested as a laborer. Things had occurred as they were supposed to occur, people were still searching for Jesse, and my confidence was fading. The afterglow had to sink in sometime -- I abducted a child and forced the blame onto someone who was innocent. The people and courts were apt to blame the man -- he looked like a registered pedophile, smelt like one and talked like one, but the thing was he wasn't. I was the guilty one in all this.
I continued to work, throwing my anxious mind from all this mess into my duties of consoling parents, answering questions, cleaning up. My face must have shown my anxiety. It sank in cold, like having ice water poured in a starved stomach. I was calm enough in myself to operate. This is stardard-order post-abduction anxiety, I told myself, it'd pass.
It did, at least for the period of time. Eventually my anxiety threw itself into arousal. My feet were hot inside of the boots that I worked in, pounding over the soil from area to area, carrying tents and bedding and fencing and assisting in the search. Aching.
Aching for someone to lap at them. Someone to make them relaxed. The boots fell with a thud to the floor as I kicked them off after Jesse tugged the knots apart and loosened them. He was naked, kneeling before my sore form on the couch and focusing silently at the tasks I gave m. I could smell my feet, rich in musky scent with the day of work I put on them. The sweat had soaked through my golden fur and into the dark fabric of my socks and it reeked. I could see Jesse's face wrinkling away from it, but he stayed put like a good slave. I couldn't see the rest of his body, only his head and hands and torso. My right foot pushed against his face as he began to undo my socks, the left peeling off to expose my foot to the air. I could feel his breath against my soles, the cool air surrounding it with an almost erotic relief. The right sock came off too, and Jesse looked like he didn't want to.
He didn't have a choice, my big toe touching his bottom lip and pulling it down, his mouth opening. Again, I told him to look me in the eye and he did. "I don't expect I need to tell you what do do, now do I?"
"No ma'am. I'll clean your feet, maam." He said quietly. No tears. We were getting better at this. The reek filled the room, and I didn't want to imagine what my toe tasted like as it entered his mouth, but I relished in the feeling on this end, that warm suckling tongue, unwillingly cleaning and surrounding my foot. He voraciously suckled, to get it over with I assume. There was no way he was enjoying this.
My left foot rested on his shoulder, the sweat wiping off on his fur. He held the ankle of my right foot gently as he sucked. He pulled off that toe and started on the next one, and I spread my toes so he could get between them. The fur of my feet was soft and short and well groomed and like a lot of furs I had fleshy pads on the bottom -- his tongue tugged at and soaked the fur of my feet as I allowed him to clean them with a tongue bath.
I relaxed, exhaling and leaning back into the couch. Now this is what a slave is for. This feels damn good. My cock pressed against my jeans, becoming erect with the sensation. He dutifully moved along each toe, taking longer stops in between them, until I jabbed my foot back into his face. I had him down the soles, his tongue dragging up it like a stinky ice cream cone.
He reached the heel and I switched feet out for him, and he began the process all over again. Suckling on the toes, and I made sure he took his time, and moving between the toes, cleaning the crevices. The sole, up the sole, over the sole, collecting all of that musk on his tongue. I felt a little less dirty, and I could feel his saliva drying in a trail.
When I was done with his unwilling ministrations, I kicked him in the face. My heel planted itself into his cheekbone, sending him backwards into the coffee table. "Don't think you didn't do well." I told him. "You did just fine. I'm just a little stressed." He clutched his abused face, nodding.
I rose from the couch, drawing Jesse behind me in my wake with a barked order for him to follow. Crawling on all fours, naked and afraid behind me in his rightful position under my dominance. I really was stressed. I knew just how to relieve that, I had a toy just for that for that. "Remember your position Jesse. You're worthless to me except for pleasure." I heard a noise at that, an agreement. We shuffled together into my bedroom.
-
I had him on all fours on my bed in no time, his little ass hoisted for me, exposing that little hole. Exposing himself.
My claws shined in the light from my bedroom window. My claws were dangerous, sharp and beautiful instruments honed by hundreds of thousands of years of evolution of the canine anthropod race. I kept them maintained like the weapons that they were.
The bed was a fold of unmade blankets, and his knees sank into the soft foam. He shuddered, preparing himself.
There was no way he was prepared.
He screamed. He tried to pull away and he screamed, and blood was seeping out of all ten holes I'd dug in his shoulders and back, like foam frothing at the mouth of some rabid animal that the gleam in my eyes must have reflected. They sunk in deep as hooks. He pulled away, only ripping more flesh, I could see tugging lines emerge from the fresh openings. I dragged my claws further down, rending the flesh around them open and constructing a bleeding, seeping path in the screaming boys back. "Please! S-stop aaaaaAAAA! Gah!" Shaking. I dripped with semen and saliva.
He was caught between trying to pull away and not wanting to push back.
My cock was ready at his unlubed hole. I sunk in deeper into his flesh with my claws and began to tug him back, pressing him into me. It was either take the penetration in his asshole or rend his back apart.
Blood dripped down his chest onto my blankets. His pretty fur, a too-much-creamer-in-my-coffee brown speckled with sugary white had now been violently and varicosely veined with weaving tendrils of flowing blood. I felt a rush of affection at his shaking ribs, his hands that clenched the blanket as if it could save him, and I leaned down into his ear as my tip entered. I could feel the flesh tugging on my cock.
"Reminds your of out first night together, huh pet? I can promise you you'll be awake the whole time." I sunk in deeper. He'd stopped trying to escape, and pressed back into me, I think not wanting to injure himself anymore on my claws. I pressed a little deeper into him as he sunk down to the midway point of my cock. I kept pushing.
The rectum and colon snakes around like motorcycle track, and my cock hit an inpenetratable curve akin to a cervix. I kept pushing and he screamed louder and louder, shaking, shaking, crying, the things that pathetic toys do when they're in unimaginable pain. His intestines and colon and rectum had to warp and bruise and stretch to accommodate my size and I felt it happening to my tip and to my shaft.
The warm slimy walls were no competition for my dominance. They relented their territory to me in no time.
I hilted inside of his body, his anus now nothing but a pleasure sleeve. I gave him a few seconds of hiccuping breathing to adjust to the large foriegn object, then pulled out and rammed back into him again.
His blood pulsedwith my thrust, and I could feel it underneath my claws and over my fingers.
I began the familiar process of fucking. In, out, in, out. Repetitive goodness. He was my toy beneath me, my pet, my worthless nothing on a chain and I relished in his pain. I kept my claws buried in him and the blood that snaked down his back began to resemble an insects wing, and there was a large pool beneath us. I couold feel some touching my knee. There'd be hell to pay with this damn mattress, getting out the bloodstain.
The orgasm came after Jesse had given up entirely, had quit sobbing and only gone quiet like he always did. My cock got hot inside his body and my toes curled and I gripped his flesh harder, eliciting a reaction of pain out of him and I focused on the one thought that usually did it for me.
Mine. He was all mine.
Cum spewed inside of him.
After a while of just breathing hot humid air down his bloody neck I slipped my half flaccid cock out and removed my claws from his shoulders. I fell onto the mattress, slipping my hand over to his hair (he hadn't shifted from his position, apparently in too much pain to do so) and yanked his head to my groin. "Lick me clean, slave." I sighed, feeling my stress relieved as he wordlessly began to lap at my cock, licking up his anal juice and my cum.