The New Inmate
Well, Nick Dorris has done it now. This cocky bastard's behind the bars waiting for his trial on a variety of criminal activity, and he's gonna have to get to the swing of things now that he's in the slammer. Commission for Taras.
A commission for Taras that took me way too long, thankfully now it's done and out here. My thanks for Taras for the patience, and I do hope that others will enjoy this as well. This is quite extreme, so proceed with your own caution. If you do read it, do tell me what you thought about it!
*Flux belongs to Taras ,the rest is mine. *
Cheers!
*
It was a bleak day, and the sky above the guard towers of the Benrubi County Correctional Facility was an ugly shade of grey, only broken by the odd streak of white here and there that suggested further troublesome weather ahead. It didn't rain yet, at least, but that might soon change and wash the concrete exercise yard, surrounded by tall walls and electric fences.
A single car drove along the paved road into the prison, painted in the county's police colors. it was stopped at a gate twice before the car pulled up in front of an ugly brick and stucco building that had bars on its small windows, and a broken loudspeaker hanging by its wires next to a rusty flagpole protruding from the wall at a 45 degree angle like an obscene brownish erection. The wind batted the cord against the metal beam and struck up a hollow rhythm, punctuated by the smack of car doors.
"...oh come on, you don't think you're gonna be carried out of the car, perp?"
The two cops didn't look too happy, staring into the backseat. One of them, an overweight cougar, already had his paw on the hilt of his nightstick, before there was finally movement. A slinky Rottweiler emerged, dressed in ill-fitting jeans and a disreputable jacket. His paws might've been cuffed together in front of him, but his tall ears or his tail didn't speak of being subdued, let alone submitted to the treatment.
"Come on then, in you go to processing!" the portly cougar grumbled.
The dog took his sweet time, as he was let in by an uniformed guard and into the prison building itself.
"Nick Dorris, 23, charged with multiple felonies, including burglary, assault with a blunt weapon, armed robbery and dealing marijuana," the fat cougar read from the Rottweiler's rap sheet aloud to an uniformed fox sitting behind a desk in an office that smelled of shit and stale coffee and tobacco smoke, despite the sign prohibiting such activity in the room. "Awaiting trial."
"Welcome to the holding tank, Dorris" the fox said without getting up. He stared up to the Rottweiler who didn't avert his eyes under the fox's gaze. it was a challenge, a silent one, perhaps, wordless, but his ears were angled in a way that told everyone in the room that the Rottweiler was not impressed. For him, it even seemed that the reading aloud of his various crimes was like a...list of honors, more than anything else. He seemed non-pulsed by the fact that he was in the slammer, and by the sounds of his rap sheet, he might be looking at a long sentence, too.
"Sup," the Rottweiler said.
"You will address me as Officer Gilroy," the fox replied.
"Sup, Gilroy," the Rottweiler replied.
The cougar glanced over at the other cop, the wolf, and seemed more antsy again. His tail wouldn't stay still. The fox wasn't that easily uneased, though. He'd seen enough punks in his line of duty to not be rattled quite so quickly.
"Dorris, Dorris, Dorris...I think you'll be staying here for a while," said Officer Gilroy, "and we should get along, too, to make this as easy for all the parties involved, I think."
"Whatever," the Rottweiler said, "and the name's N, anyway."
"N?" the fox's ears flicked.
"Yeah...The _N..._like..._The End..._eh?" the Rottweiler winked before he suddenly jerked one of his paws up, extended a finger and went. "POW! POW!"
It was a childish display of making a gun with his paw, and especially ill thought of considering that he was in a room with two furs who actually did possess real hard, cold metal weapons. The fox behind his desk tensed, and the cops seemed ready to grab their guns. The fox simply pressed a button on a small plastic intercom box on his desk. There was a shrill buzz, and then a beep.
"Yes?" a deep voice questioned.
_ _
"Angelo, Field, come here, please, and notify Dr Flux, we're having a new inmate and he needs the full works," the fox spoke into the intercom.
"Roger," came the reply soon.
"You can go as soon as my own boys come in and take this bozo into the processing," the fox addressed the two police officers. "Do you want the cuffs?"
The cougar chortled.
"Keep 'em, he's probably put the clap on them or sumthin'," the officer grunted.
The Rottweiler tilted his head to the cat and flashed a sickly sweet grin that showed his shockingly white teeth.
"That's what the last one said, and she was bad booty," the dog licked his lips, "but I rode her goooooood..."
"Shut the fuck up, punk!" the cougar lost his temper and hissed out. The wolf cop looked at his partner worriedly, and might have said something else if the door hadn't been opened and a bear and a large lion entered, both in prison guard uniforms.
"We're here to take in the new inmate?" the bear announced.
"Mister Dorris is all yours," the fox pointed at the Rottweiler. "Give him the works."
"We will," the bear said.
"You phone Doctor Flux?"
"Yes, sir," the bear said.
"Take him through," the fox ordered.
"Come on," the lion told to the Rottweiler.
"Oh don't make me, sir," the dog replied.
The bear and the lion wouldn't take bullshit. The bear pushed the dog through the reinforced door which the lion opened with his key and took him into the next room. The actual processing didn't take very long, even with the Rottweiler's passive resistance to each of their orders. His clothes were removed, personal effects catalogued and put into storage to await a possible release, the personal information checked, prison issue clothing provided from the stores.
The dog's street garb was quickly replaced by simple prison underwear and ugly dirty green-grey scrub-type pants held up by a simple cord and a short-sleeved top. The dog's cocky attitude didn't seem to suffer much from the removal of his personal attire, the clothing he had picked for himself to tell the world who was the boss. He stood there in the slipper-like shoes and with his paws newly secured with the cuffs again, looking aloof and passive.
"Alright, Dorris, the doctor will see you now," the bear said, "I'll take you in."
"Oh, please, I've been hoping to have this mole checked," the Rottweiler twisted his torso pushed one of his arms towards the bear.
"Shutup, you stupid fuck," the lion growled.
"Come on," the bear said.
He led the Rottweiler under close supervision, through a corridor, painted concrete floor, concrete block walls, harshly burning lamps on the dank ceiling. Windows secured with a steel mesh and bars broke the wall on one side, opening to the exercise yard. The bear opened the occasional barred door to let them into another section and closed the door behind them once again. They entered a staircase and climbed the steps to the second floor. Here, once the bar door was opened, they stepped into a hallway decorated with green lino tiles. The air smelled of disinfectant. A door nearby announced the location of the infirmary.
The bear took the Rottweiler over to another door, though, part of which was reinforced milky glass you couldn't see through. Stenciled letters spoke of "Dr. Flux, MD".
_ _
The warden knocked at the door. The Rottweiler looked decisively bored.
There was a rattle of a key and the door was opened. The occupant of the room, on the doorway now, was a black-furred unicorm with a shock of fiercely colored mane over his head. The white lab coat was in complete contrast to his own personal color scheme. A stethoscope hung over his neck. He was tall, taller than the Rottweiler, though dwarfed in physical size by the big bear following the Rottweiler into the room.
"The new inmate is here for his physical," the bear said, "I've got the file here."
"Excellent," said the doctor. "Will you help me for a moment? I think I'll need your assistance for the beginning of the examination."
"Sure do, Doctor," the bear rumbled.
"Thank you, Mister Field," the unicorn said.
"I thought you were supposed to call 'em officers," the Rottweiler barked a laugh.
The bear glared a look at him. The unicorn smiled briefly and closed the door into the exam room. It was quite large, equipped with a padded examination couch, a desk, a table and cabinets above. Their glass doors showed supplies of bandages and the like behind them, typical clinical supplies, nothing special. The floor was tiled and reverberated under the steps of the unicorn's hooves. He took the manila file folder from the bear and dropped it onto his desk before turning to the dog and the bear in the room.
"Would you remove the cuffs, please?"
"Yes, sir," Officer Field said. He took out his key and began to unlock the cuffs from the mildly rumbling dog's wrists.
"I knew a girl who'd love playing with these..." he said.
"Well, sweetheart, don't think you'll be knowing the soft touch of a bitch for a long time," the bear replied with a nasty smirk. The dog flicked his ears and made a face.
"Your breath stinks, Officer Field," the dog said, "it's making me feel sick."
"Good luck you're in the infirmary then, Dorris," the bear grunted.
"Halitosis is a common chronic health problem, Mister Dorris," the unicorn said. "Now, remove your clothing."
"Wow, wow!" the dog yelped. "I already took it all off once when they pushed these pajamas on me."
"This is a physical," the unicorn said, "I need to take some measurements."
The dog smirked.
"Hope you've got a long enough a ruler," the Rottweiler said.
"Keep that mouth shut, Dorris!" the bear growled.
The unicorn clip-clopped over to the table on the side of the room, picked a box of later gloves and pulled on a pair of blue, powdered examination gloves on. Then he took a writing pad and a pen.
"If you'd now remove your clothes and step on the scale, please," the doctor said.
"Well, if it gets you off, but I ain't dropping the soap," the Rottweiler replied. Despite his verbal objections, he seemed to not mind being naked in front of them. In fact, it looked like he was making a show of removing his clothes, not going as far as to hum some stripping music, but close enough, when he spent some time taking off his new prison issue clothes and dropping them over the examination couch. He stood upright, fully naked, showing off a toned body, a well-proportioned sheath, a torso with a few loud tattoos on it. He seemed to be especially proud of them, buffing out his chest by flexing his arms.
"On the scale, please."
"Okay, doc," the Rottweiler said, tail flapping about.
He sauntered over and then stepped onto the scales. It was a very old-fashioned thing, fully mechanical and requiring the doctor to adjust the counterweights on the top and then read out the values before marking them down.
"Alright...now, step over to this mark by the wall, I'll take your height."
"Do I need to go on a diet, doc?" the Rottweiler asked.
Dr. Flux glanced at the dog's flat belly and pursed his lips.
"Perhaps not," he said.
Once again, the new inmate did nothing to help the doctor in his examination. He had to be told several times to find the actual mark, and then squirmed about when the unicorn adjusted the measuring device, and even tried to avoid it when the doctor moved it close to the crown of his head.
"Cut that out!" the bear said, finally, sounding especially frustrated by now. The dark unicorn seemed more calm, simply writing onto his notepad.
"I can't help that I'm ticklish, sir officer boss master overlord," the Rottweiler slurred.
The bear grabbed his baton, but the dog seemed hardly impressed. The unicorn put his writing pad down to the table and stepped over to the examination couch. It had a drawer on the base, and from out of it he pulled out several lengths of brown leather, padded with white leather on the insides and equipped with heavy, shiny metal buckles. Hoops on the base of the couch offered him a place to attach them to, and he did so, slowly, unhurriedly working at them while the bear kept an eye on the Rottweiler.
"What's this Hannibal Lecter stuff?" asked inmate Dorris.
"A simple precaution," the unicorn said, "now, lie on the couch for your examination."
"Uh huh, don't think so," the naked dog said, "I think I'd be just fine like standing here."
"You will lie on the couch," Dr. Flux replied. "I will have to have access to palpate your abdomen."
"Uh, don't really think that's necessary," the dog sounded resolute.
"Mister Dorris - "
"That's the N for you, sunshine," the Rottweiler smirked, his tongue poking between his sharp front teeth.
"Mister Field," the unicorn said, simply.
The dog did see the movement of the bear's paw, but didn't have the time to react much before he let out a hollow 'umph!' and went down to the floor. The bear had a yellow device in his paw out of which wires extended out and terminated in two little metal spikes his taser gun had propelled to hit on the dog's side. Pain shot through the dog's body as thousands of volts of electricity ran through his body, caused muscles to tense up and forcing him down to the floor as the painful spasm left him without the control of his faculties.
"FFffffufufuuuuuuuuuk!" the dog hollered, writhing on the floor.
"Think that's enough, Officer Field," the unicorn spoke quietly.
The bear secured his taser gun to his hip and approached the fallen perp. He didn't waste any time in hooking his paws under his arms and pulling the dazed dog up. He had to be dragged so that his footpaws swept along the tiled floor, his head down, a strange expression over the dog's muzzle. He seemed to be barely able to breathe, and kept gasping, still obviously much affected by the electric shock that'd been applied to take him down.
"Ff...f.f...ff..."
The couch creaked when the dog was pushed down onto it. Both the officer and the doctor moved, then, wrapping leather restraints around his wrists and his ankles so that once they were secured, he was tied down to the bed. He was blinking rapidly and taking some big breaths, and his eyes were wide now, lips pulling into a snarl.
"You fucking...you...you shocked me!" the dog yelped.
"You resisted the examination that is federally provided for all new inmates to protect your private citizen rights, and we had no choice but to," the unicorn spoke, but his voice sounded oddly lacking in conviction.
"You fucking...Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck are you doing?" the Rottweiler yammered.
"I think we'll be good here, Officer Field," Dr. Flux told the bear, "You may go."
"If you think so," the bear looked at the dog with the twisted features, then at the unicorn, whom gave him a nod.
"Indeed," Dr. Flux said.
Officer Field pushed a button to release the taser wires and was then led the bear to the door, which the doctor opened, and then locked it securely with his key which he put into his coat pocket before he approached the Rottweiler again. He laid on the couch, just about catching his breath again, and was now pulling his legs and his arms against the sturdy bands of leather that secured him down to the bed.
"This Cuckoo's Nest shit gotta go, man," the dog said.
"They are called Humane restraints, am I supposed to claim they're not?" the unicorn said.
"Shit..." the Rottweiler snarled.
Doctor Flux pulled over a Mayo stand to the exam bed and laid upon it some equipment he took from drawers under the table by the wall. He placed several syringes there, needles in their plastic wrapping, a stainless steel kidney dish, some steel forceps, gauze, alcohol pads, various things he lined over a white paper protector on the stainless steel stand. The dog watched, somewhat curious, mostly just pissed off, unhappy about being tied down.
"Well this seems fucked up," the dog said.
"Just standard procedure, Mister Dorris," the unicorn said. He disappeared for a moment from the dog's view but returned, carrying a bottle in his gloved hand. He made a big show of applying a needle to a large syringe, which he then filled from the bottle. The dog watched the process, how the unicorn tapped on the syringe and squirted a little of the clear fluid out of it to get the bubbles out.
"Wotcha gonna do with that?" Dorris eyed the unicorn with the syringe.
"I'm sure you know what this is for," the doctor replied.
He tore open and alcohol pad and wiped it cursorily over each of the Rottweiler's shoulders. Then he jammed the needle into the right shoulder, injected some of the fluid from the syringe, and pulled out, before he promptly pushed the needle back in, an inch away from the previous site.
"Ow...wow wow! What is this?" the dog complained, his tail snapping against the leather padding of the couch.
"It's a needed part of the exam," the unicorn replied.
"Well this hurts!"
The unicorn applied another injection before he moved to the other arm and poked the needle into the fleshy shoulder. The dog growled and yelped, trying to squirm away from the injection, which was obviously a bad idea with the sharp steel in him.
"Ugh...shit...fuck!"
"There, there..."
The unicorn dropped the syringe into a red used needles container and next picked up the kidney dish and the steel forceps.
"I'll remove the taser darts next," he said, "this will hurt a little."
"Wouldn't need if you weren't such Nazis," the dog growled. "You bunch of faggot assholes..."
The unicorn clicked his tongue with disapproval. He latched the forceps around one of the shiny brass-colored darts sticking out of the dog's hide, twisted, and pulled. The dart sheared on the skin and made the dog bark out in pain. The somewhat bloodied dart was finally yanked free and dropped onto the kidney dish with a solid 'cling'!
"Oh, fuck, why didn't you put any of that injection shit over there before you did that?" the dog complained.
"It's not the procedure."
"Wha-ow!"
The unicorn removed the other dart in similarly rough manner, and got more disapproval from the dog strapped to the bed. He did wipe the red welts with an alcohol pad, briefly.
"Well that wasn't so bad, was it?" Dr. Flux mused.
"Your ass will be sorry when I sue you and the prison for brutality, that's for sure," the dog said, "this wrongly imprisoned business is gonna cost ya, I tell ya."
The doctor didn't seem to pay much heed to the Rottweiler's yammering.
"Gonna need to take some samples next," the unicorn said.
"You ain't gonna stick me with more needles!"
The unicorn almost smiled.
"No, not a blood sample, mister Dorris," he said.
The dog made a face. He didn't like the sound of that any more than that of injections. The unicorn moved around the room and returned pushing an IV stand, out of which a large red enema bag hung from, with an attached hose. The dog slammed his tail up against his taint and snorted.
"No fucking way!"
"Stanadrd procedure, Mister Dorris," said the doc. He took a tube of KY jelly from the instrument stand and squirted some onto his fingers.
He grabbed the dog's tail and pulled it down roughly to expose him, despite the dog's best efforts to resist and keep the tail up covering his rump. He hissed at the feel of slickened fingers touching his asshole, a place nobody had really touched before.
"Hey, you fucking perv!" Dorris complained. "No man zone!"
"I'm just a doctor, I don't see men or women, just patients."
"You're seeing my asshole!"
_ _
"Now, now, an orifice is an orifice..." the doctor mused while poking around the dog's anus.
"This is fucked up!"
"Sometimes medicine gets a bit dirty," the unicorn stated before jamming his index finger into the dog's ass.
"Ow-wow-wow!" he moaned in protest.
Dr. Flux squirmed his finger around in the dog's firmly squeezing rectum. He didn't stay in for very long, only to spread some of the lube about. He pulled his finger out eventually, with a slick pop.
"Very good."
"Oh fuck you!"
"Please mind your language, "the unicorn said, when he picked up the lubricant again, and the enema nozzle.
"Oh Jesus..."
The plastic tip soon glistened with lubricant, and once the unicorn grabbed the dog's flaying tail, there was nothing he could do to stop the doctor from pushing it up his ass.
"Shit!"
"Not on my watch, Mister Dorris," the doctor said effortlessly.
The doctor opened a valve on the tube and let warm water to rush into the dog's rear. The Rottweiler squirmed and let out a snort at the weird feeling of getting filled against his will.
"And next up, the urine sample."
The dog let out a hollow laugh.
"You aint' think I'm gonna be pissing like this?" Dorris asked.
Dr. Flux pulled open a drawer in the storage unit and took out a plastic package.
"You won't have to do a thing but relax, actually, I'm gonna do all the work for you..."
He tore the packet open and a yellow length of plastic tubing fell out. The Rottweiler flailed against his restraints.
"Oh, no, no way, you're not gonna - uughhh..." his rumblings were interrupted by a spasm of his colon, now full of water, working its way into his bowels.
"We need a clean sample for the drug test," the unicorn said.
He grabbed the Rottweiler's sheath and rolled it down on his dormant cock, to expose a hint of red flesh, with the opening of the dog's urethra well visible. He held the shaft with his fingers, wiped it with a cold pad.
"Ow!" he yelped. "Stop this fucking...thing!"
The doctor applied a little bit of lube onto the catheter before he adjusted his grip on the dog's cock and aimed the tube at the tip. The dog stared with horror at the slickened tube being pressed down. The unicorn squeezed on the Rottweiler's tip and opened up his urethra...and pushed.
"Ow, fuck!"
"No need to be so noisy..."
"Oh, fuck you!"
The dog spat at the unicorn, and caught him with a glob of spit right on the chin. The doctor let out a surprised nicker at the sensation. He seemed disgusted, and disturbed enough that he stopped what he was doing, leaving the tube to dangle mostly out of the dog's cock.
"Well, that was very unfortunate."
"I'll do it again!" the dog yelled. "And you don't have your muscle bear helping you out this time you bitch!"
The unicorn moved swiftly. He grabbed something and then took a hold of the Rottweiler's neck, his thumb pressing against his Adams' apple. The dog let out a stifled gargle and tried to bark out, which opened his muzzle enough that the doctor could shove a thick roll of gauze bandage inside his muzzle. The dog coughed a the sudden intrusion, but had no chance to try to spit it away. The doc rolled sturdy tape around the dog's long muzzle and secured it shut with several loops. The Rottwiler struggled, hissed, snorted hot air and tried to roll his jaws from side to side to stop the doctor from gagging him shut.
"There we go."
Dr. Flux picked a pair of scissors from his stand and cut the tape. The dog stared at him wide eyes that were no longer as defiant as before. Now he was showing fear as well, obviously worried by the situation. The unicorn wiped his muzzle with a folded piece of paper to remove the uncomfortable reside of the Rottweiler's saliva on him. He also changed his gloves, before returning to the task at hand before, grabbing the dog's cock.
"Now where were we..."
He could only growl and mumble in anger when the tube was threaded down his shaft. A few drops of urine appeared on the tip soon enough, and the unicorn applied forceps to close it down.
"And we're in, Mister Dorris..."
He used a syringe to fill the balloon and let the yellow catheter to poke out of the dog's soft cock. He looked horrified at the sight of it, but had soon a lot more to think when the unicorn produced a stainless steel bedpan and pushed it under the Rottweiler's rump.
"The enema's tube's gonna come out now, and so is everything else, I think," the doctor mused.
"HJuihmhphphph!" the Rottweiler mumbled and chewed on his makeshift gag.
The plastic hose exited and hung to the side from the enema bag. The unicorn placed his palm over the dog's lower belly and began to massage it roughly.
"Just relax...you know how it works..."
"Huhmphphp!"
_ _
The dog's bowel contents splattered out in a disgusting mess the unicorn was quick to dispose of at the stainless steel sink on the corner of the exam room. Once it was done, the dog seemed to lie on the bed, more quiet now, as if his strength had been drained out as well. He looked at the unicorn and looked angry, despising of the sight of him.
"You'll want to be very still now, Mister Dorris..."
He produced another bunch of supplies, a few towels, a spray can, and a disposable razor. The dog was horrified to see that he squirted shaving cream from the can onto his palm and then applied it to the Rottweiler's balls.
"Whuhuhuufghgh!"
"Now, don't you move unless you want some very unpleasantly placed cuts..."
The dog couldn't believe what was happening. The fucking doctor was actually shaving his balls...their hair removed slowly, meticulously, and the doctor took his time at it, too, so that when he was done and dried the balls with a papel towel.
"This was necessary, as you'll soon understand."
There didn't seem to be end to the doctor's arsenal of equipment. He applied some very cold-feeling cream onto the Rottweiler's balls and then slapped on plastic pads that glued in place. Each of the total of four pads were connected into a small box by leads that he snapped in meticulously.
"This is called TENS...that means 'Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation', but I'm afraid it's not been designed quite for this purpose...I don't think it's as bad as Officer Field's taser, though..."
He fiddled with buttons and a switch or two on the box and then hit the big red button, which started up the program. Electrical impulses lashed out through the wires into the pads that now covered most of the dog's shaved balls.
"HUMPPPH!"
The dog's muffled wails echoed off the walls. His body tensed, jerked and squirmed, but he had nothing he could do against it. The exam couch rattled with his strong body fighting against the restraints while electricity tortured his newly bald balls. His ears slapped against the leather and his tail wouldn't stop flailing under the intense feelings slapping onto him.
"Yes...oh yes...the other sample...right..."
The unicorn took the end of the catheter protruding from his urethra and aimed it over the dog's belly. A simple flick of his wrist removed the forceps that kept the tube pinched shut, which meant that once it was taken away, yellow streaks of urine were forced out of his body and splashed over the dog's abs.
The unicorn snorted at the stench of the canine urine that dribbled over the dog, staining his fur in its musky smell. Some was already dripping down alogn the sides of the couch and onto the floor. That'd need to be cleaned again. The dog stared, terrified and humiliated at the smell of his own piss soaking onto his furs. it felt hot, and so were his cheeks, embarrassed against his will. And what was even worse, it seemed that the electric shocks in his balls were only making him squirt more piss all over himself, directed by the doc holding the end of the tube in his fingers.
"Huhmphphp!"
_ _
It did run out, eventually, leaving the dog into a stinking mess on the table. The doc returned the clamp onto the tube and stood up.
"We don't want it coming out all the time, do we?" the unicorn said.
The Rottweiler kept growling and wriggling on the couch while the unicorn fetched a gas cylinder from the corner of the room. He parked it next to the head of the bed, uncoiled a clear plastic tube with a clear plastic mask and a breathing bag attached to it, and popped it over the dog's gagged muzzle.
"Now, I'll be putting in simple oxygen...just remember to breathe steadily, Mister Dorris..."
There was a hiss when the oxygen began to run. At first the Rottweiler instinctually held his breath, thinking there was something more sinister to it than that, but eventually he let out a massive exhalation that fogged up the plastic mask, and then he breathed in.
"Good...good...just like that...
Dr. Flux took a little ball of cotton wool from a metal container on the instrument stand and then upturned a small brown glass bottle upon it. He held the ball between his fingertips, lifted a corner of the mask over the dog's muzzle, and put it in so that it rested against his nosepad.
"That is amyl nitrite, Mister Dorris, and it's quite...necessary, for the next procedure...the prostate massage."
"Humhphp!"
The dog was soon beyond the ability to speak. He felt faint as the noxious chemical took over his body and made him float in an altered state of thinking. The dog was drugged and the inhaled chemical meant that when the unicorn unstrapped his legs, moving to the foot of the couch, while unbuttoning his own pants, there was no resistance from the Rottweiler.
"Hhhhhhhhh..." the dog hissed, eyes rolling back in his head.
The unicorn's cock popped out, hard, thick, blunt and so very hard. He smeared a copious amount of KY lube onto it before he pressed the tip against the dog's now slick hole, holding onto his legs to push them apart to give him access.
"This is the part where you'll be really glad for the care I take of you, Mister Dorris..."
The immoral doctor pushed, and the dog's hole, slack from the poppers, yawned open as the length of meat was suddenly forced into his newly prepared asshole. He growled and whined, a part of him still realizing what was happening, but the chemicals he kept on inhaling took the fight out of him. The lapels of the unicorn's white coat flayed about him when he pushed forward, going in deep until he was almost hilted, then began to pull back.
"And this is how it goes..."
The unicorn paid little attention to the dog's comfort. He pumped in and out of the loosened hole, his cock punching on the dog's prostate on each deep thrust that ravaged the prisoner's anus. A scowl of pleasure covered the unicorn's face, but he said nothing more, simply concentrating in fucking the bound dog. The Rottweiler rumbled and whined, breathing shallowly and quickly while he was pounded hard and quick by the equine intent on taking his pleasure. He didn't seem like he intended to take his sweet time on it, but instead went on and on and until he was sure to be getting his pleasure in the Rottweiler's convulsing rear.
He finished with a whinny of his own, really the only more involved noise he couldn't keep back when his cock twitched and shot up splurts of thick white horse cum up the Rottweiler's ass. He kept himself in throughout his orgasm, buried deep, to the hilt, stretching the dog open with his dong while he stayed inside the dog and bred him with his cum.
"Humhphh...yes..."
The doctor stepped back, his cock slipping out, covered in slime and cum, still hard when he plopped out. The dog's glassed over eyes barely registered the sight, or the noise of the unicorn wiping himself up and buttoning his pants again. He only started to come to once the mask was removed, which allowed him to inhale some room air, now stale with the smell of cum.
The drugs wore off quickly. He was left dazed, but in the full control of himself, and he felt that his ass was on fire, even through the continued burning in his balls caused by the unicorn's diabolic device still shooting up electricity into his balls. A wet heat spread from his asshole too, with the doc's cum dribbling out and onto the bench.
"Hh_Hhuhuhuhuhuh!"_
_ _
"I imagine that means that you want me to fuck off and burn in hell, or something to that effect," the unicorn spoke to the dog in a quiet, calm tone, showing no signs of the previous exertion from pounding his ass raw, "and you haven't even seen what I've got in mind for you next, doggyboy..."
His professional wording slipped for a moment, but returned soon enough when he procured two glass bottles from a locked fridge by his desk on the other side of the room, returning with them to start filling two syringes from them. The dog watched with worry, now that even further syringes were going to be involved.
"I'm afraid this will hurt a little, but after that, you wont' feel a thing, I guarantee that."
The dog went completely rigid when he realized where the needle was going to go. The sight of it, actually going there, when the unicorn grabbed his balls and pushed the needle into the plumb, now bare roundness, almost made him shear the bandage roll in his muzzle.
"And another..."
He lost count of the stings, the unicorn pressed so many onto his balls and the sac, that soon grew numb, taking away the feeling of the electric shocks that still pounded onto it.
"There...you'll be fine now," said the unicorn, patting the Rottweiler's balls, "now that was simply a preparation for the procedure. You see, Mister Dorris, you've been selected for a very special aggression management program in our facility, which I'm sure will make you much more docile and possibly will even give you a chance to become a productive member of this society. Unfortunately that means that those balls will have to go, because you being a cocky little shit full of testosterone is the primary reason for your behavior...but we'll get to that now, shall we..."
Now the unicorn smiled, a dark smirk that utterly terrified the dog, almost as much as the sight of the other syringe in the unicorn's gloved hand.
"And, of course..."
He fumbled with the instrument stand and picked up a shiny stainless steel scalpel.
"Now...well...I'd ask you for any final words but..."
The dog's eyes pleaded at the sight of the scalpel hovering in the air, but he had no choice for physical objections. The unicorn was still smiling, even showing his teeth, when he brought the needle down to the Rottweiler's arm.
"Sleep tight, Mister Dorris, you'll wake up as a new man."
The dog shook his head even as the plunger went down, and he struggled until the drug took effect and he fell unconscious, and was still on the bed.
The unicorn pulled the needle out and dropped the used syringe to the kidney dish to join the taser darts. He glanced at the dog's balls and the scalpel in his hand before that joined the other items on the dish with a clatter.
"Well, you're a lucky man, Mister Dorris," he mused.
There was little for him to do now, anyway. He'd have to clean up the place, obviously, with so much cum and other grime on the floor and the bench. He'd also have to provide a thick bandage around the Rottweiler's big balls, which he had injected with a long-lasting local anesthetic. The ketamine would knock him out for half an hour, which was more than enough to get everything ready. The anesthetic would last much longer than that, and the unicorn knew that once his patient woke up, he'd be facing the sight of his bandaged groin along with the worrisome sensation of not feeling his balls there. Let him squirm a little bit more in the horror of having been robbed of his manhood.
They wouldn't go that far in the Benrubi County Correctional Facility, now, would they?
The unicorn looked at the unconscious dog, and licked his lips.
*
Thank you for reading! I hope you had an interesting time, and I look forward to your comments!