The Interrogation
Written by: Blackstone and
Teiran
Powerful arms tied tightly behind his back, the bound and gagged polar bear could only watch warily from his chair as the other man in the room silently inspected a tray of instruments. The wolf picked up each utensil in turn, holding them up to the harsh light of the naked bulb hanging from the ceiling.
The polar bear, an extremely wealthy business man by the name of Bratton, tried to keep his breathing under control as the wolf laid a meat tenderizer back down only to pick up a metallic scalpel next. The black wolf chose that moment to look towards the subdued polar. For the space of a few fluttering heartbeats, the two men quietly assessed each other in the isolated concrete room.
Both of them were wearing suits, each perfectly fitting the individual's frame. The immense bear wore a traditionally cut grey business suit while the younger wolf opted for a more modern black affair. It was the same color as his fur and but the outfit was accented by a bold red tie.
Eventually the wolf spoke up, setting the scalpel back down as he did so.
"Do you know what I do for a living, Mr. Bratton? Perhaps you've already come to your own conclusions on that point. I myself prefer the job description: 'adept problem solver'. The reason being, when people hire me they tend to be trying to solve a problem of unusually difficulty. Now, of course the nature of this problem varies greatly from client to client. Sometimes the ask is very difficult. Sometimes its frustratingly vague. But in this particular case, the task before us is both simple and straightforward. Mr. Bratton, let their be no mystery between us: I've been hired to encourage you to produce the password to your personal laptop."
Gesturing to the polished wooden table of to the side atop which a thin laptop sat, the dark furred wolf continued his monologue saying, "It's such a small thing, really. Just tell me the correct string of characters that I'm confident you know by heart and you can spare us both a great deal of time and exertion. Now then, let's remove that gag, shall we? I'm very optimistic about what you'll have to say."
Making his way around the back of the seated polar bear, past the point where Mr. Bratton could follow him with glaring eyes, the unnamed wolf produced a small blade from up his sleeve with a flick of the wrist. With an upward cut the knot of the cloth gag was cleanly cut in two, allowing the polar bear to finally push the spit-soaked gag out of his mouth with his thick red tongue.
Moving back in front of the kidnapped business man, the interrogator knelt down slightly so that the two were at eye level, then cocked his head with a smile as he waited for the bear's answer.
Jaw set with determination, Bratton gave it, his deep voice rumbling out, "I have no fear of you, tiny wolf-pup."
Smile fading before turning into a contemplative frown, the wolf sighed and replied, "Before we start, I'd like you understand that I take no joy in this part of my job, Mr. Bratton. It is an unfortunate necessity for my line of work. Please be patient as I remove your clothes, then we can begin."
Grabbing a pair of medical scissors from the tray, the interrogator ignored his victim's deep throated growl as he started to cut away at the rich man's expensive clothes. Unable to simply pull off the clothes due to the sturdy ropes restraining him, the wolf was forced to cut them away in strips. Starting near the polar bear's broad chest, he worked his way down, eventually pulling away the last patches of the man's sky-blue boxers.
Seeing the man fully exposed for the first time, the wolf cocked his head once more as he regarded the angry white furred male. Scissors still in hand he remarked, "For your age, Mr. Bratton, I'm surprised at how fit you are. You must work out fairly regularly to stay in this wonderful of shape." Then the wolf's eyes widened in genuine surprise.
"And I see that you are quite well endowed, Mr. Bratton! Even flaccid, that is quite the asset you have there. But then again, you are known far and wide for the size of your assets, are you not?"
Doing his best to keep his face passive and his voice calm and confident, the older man responded, "If you like it so much, feel free to blow me. Seems like I have the time to spare."
At this, the wolf allowed himself a chuckle.
"If only, my surprisingly hung fellow. If only. Unless... that is... would you trade a blowjob in exchange for the password? That is an trade I might actually consider. It would make for a nice change of pace compared to the usual tactics I have to employ. Of course, you would need to provide me the password in advance and I'd have to ensure it worked prior to fulfilling my end of the bargain."
The bear appeared to consider the offer for a minute or two. When he spoke up he said, "Here's my counter proposal. You get down on your knees. You suck my cock until my balls unload in your mouth. Then you swallow every drop. Next you thank me for the privilege of my salty load. You do all that and after this is over, I won't ruin you. Deal?"
This time the wolf did not chuckle. Instead he headed back to the tray of utensils, sat the scissors down and selected a pair of heavy duty clamps. Making his way back towards the now fully naked man, the wolf held them up and dispassionately stated, "I think we'll start with your balls, Mr. Bratton. All that testosterone seems to be going to your head... making you believe you're starring in an action movie. Perhaps these will encourage a more fruitful conversation between us?"
Visibly nervous for the first time, Bratton pulled against the ropes as he loudly warned, "Do that and there is no going back, wolf-pup. I don't forgive easily. Especially those stupid enough to play too roughly with my balls."
Sitting down before the bear in a cross-legged position, the interrogator gently cupped the bear's hefty sack as he said, "A toothless threat. We both know who has the power here, don't we. You feel my hand on your sensitive flesh, Mr. Bratton? Do you feel my nails pushing against your gonads? I give you one last chance, my thick dicked friend. Save yourself hours of unceasing agony... tell me the password."
The polar bear was now panting in a clear sign of anxiety, his exposed chest working quickly to move air in and out of lungs. His teeth clenched as he resisted the unwise urge to spit in the wolf's face. He felt the wolf's nails dig into his balls and couldn't stop himself from wincing.
But despite his fear of the pain, he held onto his courage. Softly, but with conviction he said, "Do as you feel you must. And so shall I."
Moments later, the room was filled with half-growled howls of agony as a tightly-wound spring forced the teeth of the big clamp to bite harshly into both sides of the business man's left testical. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was so bad, he didn't even have time to worry that the pressure might be so great that it might even carry the risk rupturing his orb.
Watching from his seated position, the interrogator said nothing as he let the device do its work. With a joyless expression, the wolf waited until the screams died down enough so that he could be heard.
"Decide, Mr. Bratton. Do I apply the second clamp to your other, currently undamaged testical? Or do you provide me with the password. Decide now or I move forward... and this terrible pain doubles. After that, I fetch the needles, yes?"
Fighting back a choking, barking cry of torment, the bear gave in, nodding as best he could.
"A nod isn't a password, Mr. Bratton. I'm going to apply the second clamp now."
With a roar, the polar bear shouted, "No! No... this is enough. I will give you the password. Now, take it off!"
Shaking his head, but permitting himself a small smile of victory, the dark wolf answered, "It only comes off when I've successfully logged into your account. The faster you give me what I want, the faster the pain ends."
Growling through the pain, Bratton yelled, "Fine! The password is: PrideBeforeTheFall. No spaces. Each word capitalized!"
Getting up before moving in an unhurried fashion, the wolf made his way over to the computer and carefully typed the letters. Far too slowly in the opinion of the now desperate bear. But after a few more strokes of the keyboard, a melodic chime signaled that the integrator had successfully logged into the encrypted account.
While the machine finished loading up the operating system, the wolf came back to keep his word, removing the clamp from the rapidly swelling sack. Panting and still in severe distress, the bear did not offer any words of gratitude for the act of mercy.
The wolf did not mind. He achieved what he came for, with plenty of time to spare. His clients would be pleased indeed.
Pulling a chair up to the table, the wolf temporarily forgot about the bound business man and examined the computer. Taking the mouse into his right hand, the suited interrogator clicked around for a bit, then frowned.
"There's nothing on here, Mr. Bratton. This is most unfortunate for both of us."
Trying to fight through the pain and get himself back under control, the polar bear panted out, "The second hard drive... there's a folder."
Navigating quickly using the operating system's user interface, the wolf's face broke out into a relieved grin as he spotted the single folder, entitled 'Offshore Holdings Information'. Double clicking it, he paused to examine its contents.
Very quickly, the wolf's grin vanished. Expressions of confusion and bewilderment took its place.
"There's only pictures here. I don't understand. Pictures... of me? Hundreds of them."
Too shocked to feel any other emotion, the interrogator clicked through them as fast as he could, examine each individual photo for only two or three seconds before moving on to the next.
Him at the gym. Him at the pool. Him on the couch watching TV. Him eating dinner. Him jogging around his suburban neighborhood. Him taking his car to the mechanic. Him showering. Him... masturbating. Him watching porn in his bedroom. Him watching porn on his computer. Him fucking a date he brought home. Him getting fucked by another date. Him pissing in his toilet, having just woken up. Him seeing if he was flexible enough to give himself a blowjob, and only just barely failing to do so as the tip of his tongue teased his own glans. Him fucking himself with a dildo, legs up, eyes closed tight. More masturbation photos. Many, many more masturbation photos.
The wolf stood up so fast that the was flung off to the side, landing with a clatter.
Voice sharp with panic, the black furred male demanded, "What is this! These must have been taken over months! Months! In my own home! Did you do this? You will tell me what you know. Now."
With the tiniest of self-satisfied smiles, Bratton replied, "Still playing the role of the integrator, are you? Well I have a very different role in mind for you. And to be fair, I did warn you what torturing me would cost you. Twice, in fact."
The wolf didn't like the bear's tone. Not one bit. Attempting to maintain control of the situation, he put as much steel into his voice as he could, given the circumstances, and said, "Stop rambling, Mr. Bratton. And tell me about the pictures before I do something far worse to you than jostle your balls for a few minutes."
"They are your epilogue. I commissioned them so I could make scrapbook of your final days as a free man. Later I plan to leisurely flip through it as you press your muzzle between my cheeks, your tongue pushed as far in as it'll go. I like the idea of thinking back on you having to deal with free people problems, such as haggling with the mechanic, as you humble yourself between my legs."
Resisting the impulse to re-gag the wealthy man, the wolf decided he still needed answers. Answers that only the bear could give him and only if he were allowed to speak.
"Then it appears that you are in an even worse situation than I originally presumed, Bratton. Because now I have many, many more questions that need answers. I'm not entirely sorry to say that the pain will be far worse this time around. But before we start, perhaps you'll tell me who you hired to bug my home? At least you could deflect some of my attention away from yourself, yes?"
Choosing to ignore the wolf's questions entirely, the nude, recently abused polar bear continued on.
"When I initially decided to commission the procurement of my very own sex slave, I was faced with a severe dilemma. I was unwilling to deprive an innocent youth of their freedom, just for my own selfish sexual pleasure. That's the problem that you helped solve, wolf-pup. You see, I'm your client. I hired you. Except, you didn't know that, did you? Of course you didn't. Otherwise you wouldn't have been stupid enough to take this job. I did warn you though. Except you didn't hear. You certainly didn't understand or appreciate what ignoring my appeals to your common decency would cost you. Now that I'm sure what kind of person you are... well, I can sleep soundly at night. Despite everything I'll be putting you through."
The integrator no longer felt in control. He felt threatened. Like he'd been unknowingly living in a house of cards that was starting to fall down around him. He fought against this feeling, and persisted on, as he always did.
"No, Mr. Bratton. It is you who didn't understand the cost of this gambit. You will stop your inane prattle and--"
Using his booming, deep voice, the white furred man interrupted him, explaining, "You know what I'm going to have you do first? After you come back from slave training, that is. Give me that blowjob you offered me earlier. Take a long, hard look, wolf-pup. In a few months I'll be feeding you this sausage -- and I'll provide the gravy, too. And if you think it's impressive when it's soft... well, you'll see. I'd give you a quick preview here and now, but no way I'm getting a hardon at the moment. My sack is killing me."
Feeling his throat constrict in worry at the bound man's words, the wolf glanced at the scalpel on the tray as he feebly countered, "If you think for a second that--"
Once more the bear ignored him, yelling out "Do it. Bring him in alive, boys. No permanent damage."
The wolf barely had time to even formulate a thought before the two doors to the room were simultaneously kicked in. A fraction of a second later, three tranq darts struck him: two in the chest and one in the back.
A few more moments of intense motion and the combat garbed squad and secured the room and freed their wealthy patron, who was soon up and standing and gently rubbing his sore sack.
Before fading into completely unconsciousness, the downed interrogator heard the now freed business man say, "Get a few pictures of him first. Then strip him, put his collar on, and get a few more. I want them for the the final pages of the scrap album. Oh and don't let me forget to call the doctor. I want the tracking implant he placed in my arm removed before end of day."
Then everything dimmed to black for the wolf.
Eight Months Later
Standing in the middle of the expensively furnished room, Jizzrocket kept his arms crossed behind his back, just as he'd be trained. The wolf was incredibly nervous, but he tried to not let it show. Whatever pride he had left intact didn't want to give the polar bear the satisfaction of knowing that he was nervous about meeting his master for the first time.
Second time, he mentally corrected himself.
He'd been placed here and told to wait, standing there for the better part of an hour, but no one cared about how long a slave was kept waiting. It simply wasn't a concern. The standing in place wasn't so bad. Jizzrocket was long used to that. It was the mental and physical effort to maintain an erection that was beginning to drain him. But he'd long been told that his master expected to see him hard and smiling when they meet again, and the wolf knew all too well what the price of failure would be. Especially here and now.
So the black wolf kept himself hard and 'proud', knowing that his polar bear master would most likely want to get hands-on with his 'jizz rocket', which he'd been named for. A name that had been given to him in his second month of training, after Master Bratton had gotten a chance to review some of his eroticly charged training videos.
The slave tried his best not to dwell on the idea that he was about to meet the man who had just put him through eights months of hell. Likewise, Jizzrocket tried to push out of his head the frustration he felt that he'd thank the man for ruining him by spending the rest of his life pleasing the man in whatever way the bear desired, including sexually. Especially sexually.
But the dark wolf was spared from going too far down this line of thinking when the door to the study opened. Jizzrocket mentally double checked that he was both fully hard and broadly smiling as the large polar bear, his Master, strode into the room.
The wolf kept his eyes forward as his heart began to race. But avoiding eye contact was impossible when the man stopped directly in front of him. Master Bratton was also smiling, except his was much more smug and self satisfied. After all, this time it was the bear who was clothed while the wolf was naked.
It was Bratton who spoke up first, of course.
"Why hello there, wolf-pup. Well well well... what's that you got there? Something for me?"
The middle aged polar bear didn't hesitate to run a single finger from the base of the wolf's knotted cock to the tip of its crown. Jizzrocket tried not to shutter from the sensation as he respectfully replied, "Yes Master! My cock, sir!"
Bratton let himself take the head of his slave's cock between his thumb and forefinger before following up by saying, "Very well... though the 'my' part is debatable, yes? Considering I own you. But enough by your cock. Let's talk about my cock. Did you enjoy those packages I sent you while you were away at training?"
The wolf knew there was only one acceptable answer to that question, and he was ready to supply it.
"Yes Master! They were delicious sir! Thank you for your consideration!"
Hearing that, Bratton felt himself firm up even further behind his zipper. For the last many months he'd been priority one-day shipping every load of cum that came out of his balls to the training facility, so that Jizzrocket could start "enjoying his Master's taste". The trainers at the facility were more than happy to ensure that the wolf licked the small disposable containers clean before recycling them. After all, there was no reason to hurt the environment just so a slave could enjoy a snack from his Master.
"In that case, how would you like to try a batch straight from the source, slave? Just like I promised you the last time we spoke."
In a slight breach of slave decorum Jizzrocket couldn't help but glance down, towards the bear's now tented slacks. Very tented. Eyes shooting back up and forward, the wolf gulped softly. In his cell at the facility they'd hung a framed picture of the bear's flaccid cock on the wall, but to this day he'd yet to see it erect. Apparently his Master had wanted to save that unveiling for this special moment, when slave and Master finally met.
Making sure to keep smiling in a warm and appreciative manner, the former interrogator did his best to sound enthusiastic about the idea.
"I've been looking forward to it for some time, Master. Shall I unzip you, sir?"
"Is that what you want, JR? Does Junior want to suck a load out of his Masters thick cock? Am I hearing you right, slave?"
The black furred male felt his cheeks heat up in shame as he realized that the man was going to force him to beg. Beg to suck him off. The wolf felt as if he might die from the embarrassment. Which might be a merciful end, in this case.
"Master... sir... I've waited for this moment since I met you. I would have blown you then and there, back in that room had you granted this lowly slave the privilege. I'm so hard for you, Master! Do you feel how warm I am, between your fingers?"
Caressing the slave's cock with two fingers, Bratton's deep voice struck a sensuous tone and instructed, "Yes, slave, I do. Now, release me from my pants and take me in both hands, so that you can feel how hard and warm I am for you."
Time seemed to slow down, dilating around Jizzrocket as he ineptly fumbled with the polar bear's belt, button, and zipper, his nervousness turning his hands stupid. And then, there it was. As if though filmed in bullet time, the bear's meat sprang forth from his boxers, jutting out and bobbing and bouncing around in dramatic fashion. The wolf's eyes widened in outright disbelief.
His Master would have already been quite large had he been a 'show-er', with as large as his flaccid member had been. But now it was obvious that the businessman was a 'grow-er'. Jizzrocket had known since the beginning this Master was packing, but this... Suddenly the wolf was intensely aware of the fact that, as the man's sex slave, he was specifically tasked with being responsible for satisfying this bestial trouser snake.
For a brief moment, Bratton allowed himself to enjoy the slave's reaction. But he quickly decided that he hadn't paid all this money to capture and train a slave for that slave to merely gawk at his privates.
"Junior, I gave you an order and I expect it to be followed. Unless you want me to fetch the ball clamps?"
This time, the wolf did shudder. The ball clamps had often been the go-to punishment of choice whenever he displeased the trainers at the facility. The irony was not lost on the slave and the trainers had made sure to let him know that they'd be sending video tapes of each "attitude tweaking" session to his Master, for the man's exclusive enjoyment.
Apologizing hurriedly to the man who owned him, JR took his master's unit in hand. Gripping it like one would a heavy-duty flashlight, the wolf placed right hand in front of his left hand, letting himself feel his Master for the first time. After month after month after month at the facility, Junior was no stranger to cocks, but this one was different. This cock owned him. This cock was the reason that he existed. Or at least, that's the belief that the trainers had spent so much time trying to drill into him. And some of that training must have managed to stick, as the wolf found himself looking down at the aroused flesh in reverence.
Bratton must have liked the younger man's expression because he volunteered, "That's right, boy. You lucked out and bagged yourself a real man. No pencil-dicked Master for you. You get the real McCoy. And even better: it's all yours. In some ways, I admit to being an old fashion kind of guy. I believe in exclusivity. And since I'm an advocate of monogamy, so are you. From now on, this is the only cock you need to worry about servicing and, likewise, you're the only one who gets to play around with this pool cue and balls. I've even sworn off masturbation. That's a lot of responsibility I'm trusting you with, slave... think you can handle it?"
The wolf swallowed nervously and replied, "I... think so sir. I'll do my best. Err, Master!"
The polar bear noded and followed up with, "See that you do, Junior. And should you mess up... well, I'll be right there to correct you, won't I?"
"Yes Master! Thank you, Master!"
More than ready to get this show on the road, Master Bratton ordered, "Take a few more moments and get comfortable with it, wolf-pup. Then I want you on your knees showing off those skills you learned while you were away at the day spa. And be sure to stay hard while you're working to earn your treat. I don't really plan on doing anything with that slave cock today, but I like the look of that jizz rocket of yours flapping around, threatening to 'blast off' at any moment."
The wolf was bothered by how flippantly the man was in declaring that his balls weren't going to be permitted to spew their pent up juice, considering how on edge and horny he was. But it also wasn't terribly surprising. The trainers had discussed this particular topic in depth during his stay at the facility. When it came to slaves getting off, there was only one opinion that mattered at that was the slave's master.
It had been explained to him that some boys, after being captured and enslaved, were subsequently kept chaste for the rest of their life, no days off or breaks. Others were treated like liquid-treat dispensers, expected to cum on demand, time and time again no matter how much their aching balls protested. And then there was everything in between. Slaves who were only allowed to jizz on special holidays, such as Christmas or perhaps their Master's birthday. Slaves who got to shoot exactly once for every one hundred times their master got off. The rules and expectations were as varied as the Masters themselves.
When JR had inquired about his Master's taste, the trainers had said that they had no idea. But even if they did, they still wouldn't tell him. Therefore he should be grateful for every orgasm they deigned to reward him with at the facility, even as infrequent as those were. Because each one might very well be his last. It was all up to his Master. And based on how willing the bear was to ignore the needs of his slave's firm wolfhood, things were already off to a rocky start.
But Jizzrocket knew better than to press his Master on the subject. Not while he was still figuring the man out, anyway. Instead, he knew his best course of action would be to try and make his Master as happy as possible. Which meant acting very impressed with the man's cock and also making it feel very good.
"Master... I hope you don't mind this slave saying so but... you are far larger than I had been imagining. In my humble opinion, it's very fitting for a free man of your stature. May I kneel down and kiss it?"
This seemed to be the right words to say as Junior felt the rod firm up even harder in his hands, if such a thing were possible. The polar bear gave a grunt of affirmation, and gripped the wolf's head in both hands, guiding him down so that he was forced to kneel. The tip of monstrous appendage was so close to his lips that had junior stuck out his tongue he'd of been able to taste the eager flesh.
Bratton instructed further, "This isn't a date, slave. Skip the kissing. Take me into your mouth and use your muzzle to get your Master off. Gag if you have to, but don't stop."
Now understanding that his owner had limited interest in romantic gestures, the former interrogator let his training take over. That is, the training he'd had on pleasing sensitive flesh, rather than his earlier training of torturing it.
As both wolf and bear ignored JR's own crotch rocket, the slave softly took his Master's shaft in as far as he could reasonably accomodate. And maybe just a tad more than was strictly comfortable. It an instant was a shock to his ego to realize that he was doing exactly what he'd initially swore he would never do: surrender to his trainers' expectations of him. In those first few weeks the enraged wolf had angrily promised to anyone who would listen that this day would never come.
But now here it was. The bear's cock rested atop his tongue, inside his mouth as his half-lidded eyes stared directly into the man's white crotch fur. There was no time to deal with cognitive dissonance however. Jizzrocket had a job to do and a role to fulfill.
Bratton was pleased as he felt his newly delivered slave begin to orally service his meat. Tongue, lips, cheeks, saliva, gentle nips of teeth, warmth. This was what victory felt like. The dark furred male hadn't been able to engulf the bear's entire member within the confines of his muzzle, but he'd taken on more than the Master had expected. This was indeed a fantastic start.
But Master Bratton knew better than to praise a sex slave too much or too often. It was best to keep them on their toes. And so the business man said, "Can't take it all yet, I see. I knew those smug assholes at the facility were overcharging me. Guaranteed results my ass. Very well. Don't ignore those inches, slave. At least get your paws in on the action."
Mentally picturing the balls clamps that his Master had already threatened him with, Jizzrocket redoubled his efforts, using his hands to caress that which wouldn't fit in his already over-capacity muzzle. Balls were fondled. Bear cock was pawed. White pubic fur was softly scratched. All while the slave's mouth was already beginning to ache from strain of dealing with his over-endowed Master.
He'd thought about this moment a lot over the past few months while trapped in the training facility. Every night he'd been forced to fall asleep looking at a picture of this dick, and now it was here, hard and forcing his muzzle open too wide. Jizzrocket could barely handle what he was taking, and yet there was so much more. Enough he needed both paws to stroke what had not yet passed through his lips. and the wolf knew that eventually, his nose would be pressed to the polar bear's pubic fur. That one day all of Bratton's massive dick, the dick that now owned him, would be in his throat.
Jizzwolf couldn't see how that was possible, but he knew it would happen. That was one thing the trainers had made sure he understood. What his Master wanted was going to happen. no sense fighting it, or arguing, or resisting, all he could do was submit to the cock that would be his life from now on.
It certainly filled his world at the moment. The heft and girth of the polar bear was well beyond anything he'd taken at the center. He'd been forced to give head every day, multiple times, but never to someone whose dick even rivaled Bratton's. As he gagged and choked on the bear's dick when Bratton thrust, that struck him as strange. There had been horses on staff, they could have made this part of his training. It had taken them months to break him, and they'd forced him to do a lot of things he'd once sworn he'd never do. Like suck Bratton's dick, but here he was. They could have taught him how to handle this... As the polar bear's paw pushed him down and he gagged again, Jizzrocket heard his Master's pleased rumble, and knew that the trainers hadn't taught him how to handle a dick this big because Bratton didn't want him to be able to. He wanted the wolf to squirm and choke on his dick, he wanted to humbled him with it, and Jizzrocket had to admit, he was.
It stretched his jaw and popped his ears, and his paws were already getting tired. It filled his world, and he was losing track of everything that happened around him. All he could do was suck on Bratton's dick, his nose and mouth filled with the bear's taste as he was used.
The taste was actually a surprise. The wolf had thought, after drinking a load of the bear's cum every day for most of a year, that he would know what Bratton tasted like. But here, in real life, Bratton's dick tasted very different. Jizzwolf had become regretably accustomed to the taste of dick. By the end, he had been able to identify his trainers by taste and smell alone when they forced themselves upon him in the dark or while he was blindfolded. And now... now he was learning the taste and scent of his true master.
Jizzrocket's tongue slide across the throbbing underside of the bear's cock, tasting the clean skin and feeling it slide across his tongue. There was none of the rank or bitterness of someone who did not keep themselves clean. It tasted like clean skin and salty pre cum, a bland mix that if he'd been forced to put into words, would have been something like licorice.
His nose was filled with the musk of the bear's crotch, which would only get stronger as he grew accustomed to the polar bear's size and he had to take more and more of the massive shaft. Again, the bear's cleanliness struck him, the polar bear's fur even smelled faintly of sandalwood. Thinking about what the bear had said about monogamy, the wolf realized that now, this was the scent and taste that would become the norm for him. This was the cock he would be sucking and pleasuring for a long time, perhaps years. Countless discipline filled years. And this first blowjob felt like it might last just as long.
In total, the wolf spent over half an hour doing his best to pleasure his new owner. It took this amount of time not because the slave lacked talent or skill, but rather because the polar bear was purposely holding himself back, wanting to drag out this once-in-a-lifetime moment for as long as possible.
But, inevitably, Bratton felt himself peaking.
"Acceptable for a first attempt, Jizzrocket. Though your mast is beginning to flag, I see. Pity. Well, there's no time to address that... we're reaching the end soon now, Junior. Let's endeavor to at least get one touch down in, shall we? To mark the occasion. Down you go, wolf. Say 'ahhhh' and remember, no biting."
The wolf suddenly felt an intense and growing pressure on the back of his skull, drawing him in inescapably closer. There was precious little time to worry as he felt the pressure in his throat go from noticeable to critical in the space of a couple wheezed breaths. Despite all his sexual training, nothing at the academy had trained him for this: The uncompromising demands of a Master who didn't accept 'not possible' for an answer.
"Just three more inches... there we go. Hold your breath if you must, JR. No, bad slave! No pushing. Hands down at your sides. Now! There we go... very close now... aaaand touchdo-aaahhhYEESSS!"
It was if the floodgates had been flung open the very moment Bratton felt his slave's panic-tight lips clench around the base of his stalk. Now all that was left was to feed his purchase. To baptize the once evil man in the redeeming balm of his Master's fresh seed. The polar bear let himself fire off three or four rounds before pulling the wolf off his gushing member and throwing him to the floor.
As the slave lay prone and gasping, Bratton fired volley after volley, distinct white globules landed in a spray-like pattern, clearly visible on the wolf's pitch black fur. Mainly he attempted to aim for the face and chest, but it wasn't of particular concern to him how the slave was marked. Only that the wolf-pup was seeded -- inside and out.
Though that isn't to say that the Master wasn't appreciate when he noticed that the slave's half-hard member was doused in free man cream. It felt appropriate that a slave cock be wetted not with its own seed, but with its Master's real-man cum.
Post climax, Jizzrocket still lay panting be seemed to recovering swiftly. But being the worldly businessman he was, Bratton knew how important first impressions were. He needed to take advantage of this moment to set the tone. The tone that would define their relationship for the rest of their lives.
"No time to rest, Junior. Use that tongue of yours to clean me. And get this dick fully hard again while you're at it. I sampled one of your slave holes. Now it's time to try out the other."
From his drenched position on the floor, the wolf looked up at his Master. Haloed by one of the bright lights that shone from behind his head, the suited polar bear was the picture of masculinity. Strong, healthy, massively endowed, impeccably dressed, and clearly in charge. Despite his own abiding sense of shame, Jizzrocket felt himself firming back up at the sight.
Sitting back up to take the polar bear's now cum sloppy unit once more in hand, the humbled wolf respectfully answered, "Yes, Master" before his mouth was again put to use.