Hello dear reader, before I start I'd like to say that this is more or less my first commission. In that respect, I’d like to thank the commissioner: “StupidSquirrel” for working with me on helping make this story.

This story contains children in desperate and sexual situations. Reader discretion advised.

Life is hard. It doesn't matter who you are, what world you are from, or what position you hold. Life is a struggle for survival, and a race against time. One you will ultimately lose no matter how hard you fight, or how far you manage to go. Death inevitable, time inexorably slipping away. Sometimes merely for seconds at a time, a tangible, countable figure. But not always. Sometimes it is entire years that seem to slip between one’s fingers.

Facing such a dark truth, one often turns to finding joy as one of life’s only real tangible goals. Peace no matter how fleeting, always the most desired outcome. Sometimes that joy is as simple as a warm, filling, meal. Other times, it is found in companionship or love. But joy can come from unexpected places where one would normally only feel fear and pain. And even more so; one’s mind can always be changed, warped, or broken to see things from new perspectives. 

Pain can become pleasure. Joy can come from sorrow. And punishment can become a reward.

But our story’s protagonist would not know such things. Not yet. He would be so much more occupied with simply fighting in that initial struggle for survival. On T’mosai, a world set in war, with much strife, poverty, inequality, and suffering, everyone must struggle for every scrap of food, and drop of water. Things such as peace are a luxury so few can afford.

Dexter is no outlier in this. He lives in a small mining colony, Berycia, near the border of the blasted lands. A place so hot and and harsh as to be almost entirely devoid of life. Water and food must be shipped in daily. Life here is cheap; in that a single flask of water has seen many men dead at the hands of another.

Life here in Berycia was not easy even for his family who were the thatchers and tailors of the town. They made the shades, roofs, and repaired the damage from the scorching winds of the buildings, as well as made the clothing, sandals, sun hats, and veils that kept people from being blasted by the sands here. But with so many children, it was no wonder that Dex found himself almost forgotten in the family. Never mind that the little grey furred squirrel was a bit of a black sheep in his family. Though only about 8-10, his family’s handicraft would have escaped him. At this time he could not weave the hats and sandals that his family desperately needed to survive here. And he was no use on a roof thatching, being relegated to a simple fetcher of goods, and general go-between.

Life for his family was worse still as his father was also a consummate drunkard, and his mother a whore on the side to make ends meet. It was long disputed that Dex was the first child born not to his own father of all his siblings, and his lack of red fur from his father was a fair give away to this fact. His father would beat him, and his mother blamed him for his father’s drunkenness. Though he had younger siblings that were likely bastard children as well, it was because he was the first of these that he bore the brunt of their misplaced anger and aggressions.

Turmoil behind the closed doors of the town on the edge of hell was common. But lately the daily caravans were being ambushed on the roads losing valuable supplies, or not making the journeys at all. His family, like so many others, stopped getting payments and trades they needed to survive. Water supplies ran low, food supplies even lower. With every missed shipment the town slipped a little further into chaos. What was once a bustling wind swept market was now filled with empty stalls, whose shutters whistle in the sand laced winds. And the stalls that remained open where barely stocked even after shipments came through.

To add to the little squirrel’s family woes, Dexter’s father fell from a roof when repairing it recently. Be it from his drunken state, or simply because of the winds, most could, or simply would not say. But all speculated that it was his not so sober disposition. Life for little Dex was very much a struggle as his father was down to mend with a broken arm, and ribs. 

It was with a joy in his heart that his mother entrusted him with a coin purse and sent him to market. Dexter was so excited to be entrusted with even this simple task, wanting so much to redeem himself in his family and please them, if for no other reason than to end the eternal shouting, and daily abuses.

“Really mom!? I get to go pick up the water?” “Yes, and you’d best not spill a drop! And take your little sister Alari with you.” “Right away momma!” Dexter all but snatched the coin purse, and burst into the room where his siblings worked rushing over to the side of the little black squirrel girl kneeling beside her and whispering quietly into her ear. She sigh, set aside the hat she’d been working on, and stood up with him adjusting her robes. She was not so keen on going out it seemed. The pair of little squirrels stepped out of the airlock of the home, dressed in white robes as was the custom and culture of the area. Never mind the fact that they needed the sunhats, shawls, and robes to keep the winds from pelting the fur from their skin even on calmer days like this one. And the sandals especially needed among the countless half buried jagged glasslike obsidian stones of the blasted land infernal sands.

The pair made their way to market on the other side of town, Dex leading the way while holding his little sister's paw who barely kept up. They soon enough would reach the building that was the water dispensary, this place always having been the coolest in the town, and most regal of the buildings as craftsmen often did work on improving it in exchange for its liquid life. It was also the most heavily guarded, as it was sandwiched between the local security office, and the mayor’s office. Though coin was currency, water was life,and so it was just as guarded here as any bank would guard their gold.

Dex ran up to the counter and waved at the teller through the bars smiling a big bucktoothed grin and said up to the teller in an all too adorable anc chipper tone “Heya! I’m here to pick up my family’s weekly water please.” The little boy tossed the coin purse on the counter as the long whiskered feline looked down at the little squirrels from behind the counter. His big well groomed paw laying atop the coin purse, pulling it back behind the counter, opening it up and looking things over, out of sight from the two squirrels. Tot he little squirrels’ surprise something seemed to be up. The teller snapped his fingers loudly and pointed to the two in front of him at the counter. The guard up front locking the thick wooden door as he and another guard from beside the connected security office started walking to the counter causally. 

There came a motion from the feline bank teller’s hands pointing to the two then to the security door. And like that, the two large imposing guards snatched the pair of squirrel’s arms up and quickly bound them behind them. The pair of squirrels squeak, yell out, and did their utmost to get away. But it was entirely in vein. The young girl screaming for help at the top of her lungs, and dexter asking what he’d done wrong, just like so many times before when being beaten by his father.

The guards didn't speak a word to them but simply locked them in separate cages in the security office before leaving the room to let the two kits sob and wail. They fought their restraints but nothing budged. It may have only been a few hours for the two kits, but it felt like days locked in the back of that jail. And had either of them the faculties to think properly, they’d have noted how deadly quiet this place was, as they were the only prisoners in this section. But such minutiae escaped them as they talked to one another, trying to see if either of them knew what was going on. But all Dexter could get from his little sister was that ‘mommy and daddy will come get us...’ while he was less than sure of that for himself.

Both had been left alone half the day, and still had not so much as seen another person. And though the sun never truly set at their climate, they knew by now most of the town would be asleep, including their family. So it was odd to them when the back door opened and a red robed figure, covered in intricate designs and with various jewelry and baubles on it,  stepped in with guards of his own. The guards were not from the town, nor was the robed and masked figure. With their attire as it was it was clear they were likely caravaners, who had come to town and were not locals. This made all the more apparent as the red robed man walked over and looked into the cages, scratching off notes in his leather bound ledger. “Indeed, just as ordered. Alright; get them ready to go. We need to get on the road before much longer. Sand storm coming through right on our heels if we don't make this quick.” Spoke the robed man to the guards who moved in on his behest.

The guards, wearing armored robes and with weapons on their back and hips, quickly moved to open the cages and stopped just outside of them. The red robed caravanner spoke in an all too calm manor, having given this speech far too often “If you listen, and don't fight, i’ll give you both half a flask of water. You’ll need it so I suggest you behave yourselves.” The red robed man pulled the flask of water from his pouch and shook it gently to make the point clear as the guards opened the cages slowly.

Alari was still a collapsed lump on the floor whimpering and sobbing as she refused to stand. Dexter on the other hand didn't understand what was going on, but was more prepared for than she was. He stood up but looked to the red robed man and started with questions “Mister, where are we going?  Why are we being taken? Does momma and daddy know you are doing this?”

The caravanner nodded to these questions and beckoned the boy over. “Behave, come get your water, and I will tell you all you need to know. Fight us, and we will simply drag you away through the desert. You may want to tell Alari this and get her to calm down.”

Dexter looked to the man stepping out of the cage slowly, the guard grabbing the rope from the boy’s bound wrists and holding it close as a metal collar was secured around his neck. The guard inserted a bit of protective cloth between the boy’s neck and that collar, and put the pin that was to latch it shut in. The inserted pin glow red hot briefly, and was securely welded in place now, a chemical reaction having taken place between the pin’s material and the collar’s material fuzeing them strongly together, his neck protected by that little scorched cloth that resisted the heat.

Dexter didn't notice this all for his own collar but watched it happen to his sister’s collar as she lay there still curled into a ball on the floor of the cage. “Ali... Get up. These people are going to take us away now. If you don't listen they will hurt you... Please get up. Ma’ and dad are not coming for us...”

A tug came at Dex’s collar, the leash held by the guard leading him towards the red robed caravaner. He stopped before him and looked up at his eyes as the robed male held the flask of water up to the boy’s lips and quickly tilted it up, making the boy sputter as he was not used to chugging water quite like this. But he gulped greedily at that flask, having been so very thirsty. As he was given that water he heard the caravanner speak, indeed answering his questions. “We are going to Ociros. We will have a stop in Poa’poa on the way. Your parents sold you as slaves. You are going to be auctioned at a nobleman’s ball in Ociros. Special order, you two are, so if we can help it we will take good care of you. This means that your family got paid real good for you to go with us too. Behave, and everyone stays happy.“ 

Dexter whimpered and nodded, his lip quivering, his tail curled around his legs in his robe, and over all just feeling defeated. Thinking to himself that at least his dad wont beat him, and his mother can’t call him worthless now. After all, she’d literally traded him for food and water. He stuck close to the guard as he was lead out into the windy hellscape that was Berycia just before a sand storm came through. Screaming heard behind him from his sister who was being carried out now, and whimpers and moans ahead of him from other slaves picked from other villages along the rout, he didn't see any of it, simply looking at his feet, and at the direction that leash went, following it and keeping it slack. 

To protect his eyes and face from the dust, his hat was removed, and he was hooded at this point, leaving his head covered in this cloth so that all he could do was listen as his sister’s crying and flailing was heard beside him along with a dull thud as she was dropped unceremoniously down the harsh biting sands. Moments after he heard the slaver crack a whip and yell out, and they were under way. He soon felt his collar’s lead grow taught, the cloth over his head offering poor glimpses of anything at range, but up close he could follow that lead’s shadow against the sands and so he followed it, all the while sobbing quietly to himself.

The journey was harsh, and the sounds of his sister being dragged for the first bit were unmistakable, but soon enough she begged them to stop and when offered the chance to stand she took it. He tried then to count the number of footsteps he could hear from others, counting no less than 8 other sets of feet near him, trying to tell where the wind was coming from, but before a sand storm like this it seemed to whip and curl in all directions. He had no way to know where he was, or where he was heading aside from the names of these towns and cities he’d heard of but never seen with his own eyes.

He’d never done so much walking in his life. And the sand storm had indeed caught up with them, almost blowing him over with every few steps, but they were all forced to carry on as the large beatle that lead the sled before them. The slead itself made from an upturned beetle shell, drug through the sand, leaving a nice flat walking surface behind it for them thankfully. The slavers and the guards had hunkered down in the tent atop that beatle shell,  but a driver kept them on track, adding whip cracks and shouts to the roar of the winds and the plodding of many feet.

There was no way to tell how many hours it had been as they soon arrived at Poa’Poa, the sled coming to a rest as the sand storm abated. The red robed slaver said simply “Sit down and my men will bring you a drink, and a snack. You have a little while to rest, but do not get comfortable or try to sleep.” True to his word, a guard would come to Dexter's side almost as soon as he’d set down and lifted the bottom of that hood up pairing a flask to his lips and turning it up to let him drink from it. Another half a flask of water going down his throat feeling so very welcome after such a long walk. Though he was a bit taken by surprise as the guard shoved a hard thing into his muzzle that tasted like herbs and dirt, and felt like a rock. His hood quickie replaced, tied tight to the collar again.

This ‘food’ was a survival tack made of a tree’s sap that was loaded with energy, and had various grains and herbs in it so that it was basically an all in one meal that provided a moderate nutritional benefit while also being cheap, and long lasting. One could chew it and it would soften but it was most commonly simply sucked on to keep saliva flowing in one’s mouth in such dry places.

They were not down for long, and added to there ranks he counted another 5-7 people, most sounding like more kids as they mostly all whimpered, cried, or shouted for their parents. But all one by one were strapped to the leads of the sled. And once more came a shout “Stand UP!”, a crack of the whip, and “We’re off!” as the caravan started apace once more. Dexter could feel ropes at either side of him going to other slaves, out of reach of him in any meaningful way, but he could feel one of them staggering more than the other, and with this kept knocking dex off balance as he tried to walk. He then heard why it was so bad as the person behind him fell over and simply was being dragged now. But dex could spare no sympathy for them, only glad the rope was not jostling him around anymore as the frame of the collar bore the brunt of the pulling as it was designed to.

The person stood eventually, but he heard the guards talking about them, “Don't think this one will make the walk. Want to put him in the cart instead? “ “No, just drag him. We will cook him up at the camp” “We aren’t making camp idiot. Special order for most of these slaves for an important event in Ociros. We’ve a strict schedule.” “Riiiight right...”  In the end determining to let him simply drag, and deal with him if he survived, though they adjusted his ropes to drag him atop an old bit of shell, to maximize his chances of survival. 

As the hours trudged on, they stopped once more as the winds had died down and it was looking closer to dawn. It was here that Dex heard the man who’d been dragging beside him all this time had died somewhere along the path. Dex was given a little more water, and declined a bite of the ‘food’ before being hooded. The guards finished giving all the survivors the food and water, and letting them sit for a bit. He heard the red robed one talking to the guards beside him as they untied the corpse and drug it off. “Only goods get to ride in the cart. Grab his pelt, clothes, teeth, and salvage as much meat off of him as you can. We will sell it all off in Ociros.”

Dexter tried to put it out of his mind what was going on, and thankfully they’d drug the corpse far off enough that he didn't have to hear the ordeal, and never once saw a thing because of this hood. Even then... he was terrified. Not just for himself but for his sister. “Alari... You there Alari?” He asked quietly, only to be shouted at by the guard “No talking!” and catching a hand, or maybe foot, to the side of his head for his disobedience. Though it more or less only knocked him over than truly hurt as he whimpered and lay there he heard his sister’s whimpering clear as day. She was still alive, and even if he could not talk to her, being able to hear her whimpering was enough for now. He noted that they must have left the blasted lands at this point though, as the sands didn't contain those small black shards of glass, and was simply instead just sand as he laid on his side in it.

As he was set back up by the guards, the shout came to stand once more, a whip cracked, a whistle called, and once more the caravan moved on.

It would not have been as far of a trek as before now, having walked all through the night, the wee hours of the morning came with warmer rays on his robes, and the call of shorebirds far off in the distance, with a dull droning of city commerce and fair starting. Something he’d never heard himself, but had heard of from his father speaking of his old life in the cities, and how he’d been duped to move into that ‘shit hole town’.

As they set on a great dune overlooking the city far in the distance, his hood was once more removed, the red robed slaver standing before them all on the back ledge of that shell sled, looking over the slaves, the backdrop of Ociros behind him glistening in that morning light. “We are almost to the city. If you’ve never been here before you need to know that if you try and run away, you are actually less safe as an escaped slave. The laws for slaves here are harsh and I don't want to lose profit any more than you want to lose your head. So lets keep my purse fat, and your heads on your shoulders. Be on your best behavior, and i’ll make sure you all get not only a proper bath, but a good meal and a full flask of water before sundown.”

A light murmur came from the slaves, most of the voices near him praising various dieties that the walk was almost over, and some whimpering in fear for the things to come as the red robed figure carried on. “Some of you will be sold at auction tonight. Mostly the children, and those of you who are rare species. That said, some of you already know where you are going as this town has a desperate work shortage right now. Either way, I expect you all to behave and keep your calm. That way we can keep you safe through this process, and make it as short as possible to start your new lives. The city is not far, but I need you all walking in head held high and looking your best.” He clapped his hands together and the guards went around one by one, adjusting the clothing of the slaves to look as best they could, making sure they were rehooded and for the most part were still in good condition.

The expectations of those above never cease to amaze those below. Slaves being told to hold their head high was a joke unto itself for most of them. But for little Dex at least, it was taken to heart, as it was from most of the children. The promise of a good meal, and a full flask of water each was a strong motivator. That and the fact that as the red robed slaver spoke, one of the guards had walked up behind him putting a yellow spotted pelt dripping with blood, and full of cuts of meat into the back of the cart. The slave who’d fallen now getting to ride in the cart as goods, just as discussed.

The caravan soon was off once more, and after a handful more smaller dunes, and bends, they saw the city of Ociros, The City on the Sea, in its full glory through those sackcloth hoods. It was more majestic than most had guessed, with towering buildings that were as ancient as they were beautiful. The buildings were not all mudhuts or thatch and hide tents as the squirrels had known back home. Instead some standing out as stark shining white stone that seemed to even from this distance glisten and glitter, topped with spires and tiled rooves, ornimented with statues, and figurines decorated with gold, silver and other precious metals and jewels. The city’s harbor full of large ships that trade all from across the sea, and the coast alive with trees as the fresh water sea was a bringer of life to an otherwise bleak sand strewn nation. 

As they made their way close, Dex could not help but speed up a little, wanting to see more, ignoring for the time his iron collar and rope bound arms. But it always came crashing back to reality as they topped a dune and the shell lurched forward, picked up a little speed and tugged at the slave’s collars leading them onward down hill in surges. 

The last dune came and went, and the massive gates to the city seemingly kept growing larger and larger, and at least they were beneath the massive gates that served less to deter enemies from coming in, and more to display grandeur as they walked down the main street in the late afternoon, bustling crowds surged to and fro, and the once gentle hiss of the sand on the beatle shell turned to a harsh scrape on stone pathways. The slavers soon pulled off towards a compound that had the gates shut behind them and one by one the slaves had their hands released and were lead off to cages by fair means or foul.

Dex saw his sister not being taken to a cage and instead being lead further into the compound along with the rest of the female slaves as he and the men were stored away. The red robed slaver was already off and away elsewhere in the compound, leaving the guards to handle the slaves. “Alright listen up. You are all going to be processed. That means we are going to start some paperwork on you while you bathe. After your bath, if you cooperated and signed your name on the forums, you will be lead to some nice comfy rooms and given food and a drink. If you fight the process for any reason, we wont hesitate to teach you your place. Just ask him.” Said the guard pointing with a spear to a slave that stood beside him  with their back to them, showing off the many streaks of crusted whip marks. The man nodding rapidly and shouting “L-Listen to them!” This display offering that slave only the reward of another stroke across the back of his legs with the shaft of that spear before he meandered off elsewhere into the compound.

Dexter would watch as one person after another was taken out of their cages, and lead to a room across the court yard in short intervals. It was not long before he too was taken from his cage, and made his way across the courtyard in the twinkling morning light beams that peered slowly through tall towers and the city skyline into the courtyard below. 

Though he complied for the most part he tried looking to the female’s side of the compound and did manage to spy his sister but only briefly before being drug into a room where the red robed slaver set at a desk. In this room were a pair of wash tubs, one being cleaned out and one ready for him to stand in, and a massive pile of discarded robes. At dexter’s either side were two large guards one holding each arm as they lead him over to the wash pale and simply picked him up sitting him in it. The slaver at the other end of the room writing both in his ledger and on individual papers as he asked simple questions.  “Name?” Dexter went to respond but as he did, the guards lifted his robes up and over his head, the boy instantly grabbing at them and whimpering loudly as he clung to those coverings, with his tail going up between his legs to hide himself in instinct.

The red robed slaver that he could now see the face of was not in any way amused, the older canine glaring at him, “NAME!” To which the little gray squirrel whimpered and begged “P-please don't take those! I need them!” The boy fought and struggled before the canine barked “Do you not want your food and water? You have 3 seconds to stop your tantrum and listen slave! 1,...2,...” Dexter froze at the counting and trembled as his robe was finally hoisted up and off of him leaving him standing there bare before the slaver. “Now listen here slave. You’re going to get a good scrubbing and then i’m never going to see you again. I need your information so that if you complete your service to the lord who bought you, you can go back home. Now, what is your name, age and species, boy?”

His tone was harsh and direct, leaving no chance for the squirrel to think there was any wiggle room in this conversation. As the boy stood there hugging his tail for dear life, he squeaked out “D-Dexter... I’m - I’m...” The canine said simply “The file said you were between 7 and 10, do you at least know how old you are?” Dexter simply shook his head, never having celebrated birthdays nor knowing how old he was as all the days were such a blur back home where there was endless sun. “Grey squirrel sir...” 

As the canine behind the desk finished his writing the guards covered him in a harsh, acrid smelling white powder. Then one guard hefted a bucket of water over his head and all at once doused him in ice cold water and was told briefly “Scrub yourself”. Dexter refused breifly, be it from fear or not wanting to let go of his tail, hugging it and trembling. It was all as a blur as he ends up getting two of the caravan guards pinning him down on the wood floor with brushes and doing it for him not so gently before basically being waterboarded by another full jug of water.

As Dexter lay there sputtering and coughing, now bedraggled but clean, one guard pinned him down and the other took measurements of him, reading off his height, the colors of his body, tooth length, and even measuring his boyhood. “3’3”, Grey body and tail, white belly, 2’8” tail, half inch teeth, sheath 1 inch, sack 1 and half inch across, baculum 2 inches.” All of this while molesting the boy’s bits to get accurate sizes before simply snatching him up by his wrists and standing him back up, now dripping wett.

He is then brought to his temporary cell with all of the other male slaves in one large holding cell that at least was indeed comfortable in that it had padded benches to sit on and warm steam coming from a grate in the center keeping the now chilly room somewhat comfortable. Still nude he set there alone in that crowded room, holding his tail, and burying his face in it. Something about that chemical they’d coated him with had left his fur smelling somewhat nicer than it had smelled, and the fur seemed to be drying at a record pace even with a mild steam in the air. 

The slaves were given food and water once more, and told to be comfortable, rest up as best they can, as they would be there all day to recover. Hours going by, with Dexter unable to really relax, until they would then be herded into a cloth covered cage cart with other slaves. Dexter, unfortunately, being face at junk height for a lot of them, male and female alike, as he tries to divert his eyes from the people who were almost all trying to cover themselves up, ending up looking out of the corner of the cart at the city as it goes by. The cart is taken to a large manor he can see through the flapping cloth of the cart. The one he’d spied so far away with glistening white marble walls as tall as the city’s walls, and gold decorations adorning it along with crimson red silks.

This was the home of one of the nobles and after his very long day and night, his night looked to be even more interesting. The fact he’d been awake for a whole day and a half at this point was wearing on him though, the exertion and exhaustion of it all, making it hard to stand as the next hour or so was a blur. Once behind the manor at the stables, each slave was taken off the cart by name, and placed in individual cages. Once Dexter was in his cage, finally alone enough so he felt, he could not help but curl up and pass out almost instantly, stealing whatever time he could sleep.

Inside the estate, the noble was hosting a masquerade ball and slave auction in his keep as a celebration for the city’s new trade deals struck with a far away land. Slaves from far and wide of many species were called in, the most exotic or rare species here being a main draw for the party goers in fact. As the lord mingled and the night went on, the time for the slave auction slowly rolled around. And one by one the cages were emptied, and the slaves went on stage to be sold off, all while Dexter got some sleep in his cage.

At the auction Dexter two dozen other slaves were to be auctioned off as keepsakes of the night. Be they disposable play things, nice and fertile slaves for starting a slave family under their owners care, or simply being of exotic nature for a clearly kinky, or hungry crowd.

Dexter’s cage opened with a harsh metal squeal, and quickly, he is hoisted up, tied with his writs behind his back, his tail lashed to his collar to keep it up, and a muzzle is slid over his head to keep that little mouth shut and keep him out of trouble. The guard walks him up to the back stage steps just out of sight, as he sees a male zebra on stage being rubbed and stroked to get him hard for the crowd’s amusement by a masked weasel entertainer and auctioneer, as bets came in quick and loud from males and females alike. The little squirrel unable to look away from the zebra being lead around the stage by his cock now as cackles and cheers came from the crowd beyond.

Once the zebra was off stage though, the host of the auction introduces the little squirrel next “All the way from the blasted lands if you can believe it, this little grey squirrel is three foot three inches tall, between 7 and 10, so you don't have to worry about him making a mess or getting other slaves pregnant, and is in fine health. And if I do say so myself, has the softest fur you can really dig your claws into. If this little morsel tempts your taste buds more than your carnal desires, it too can be cooked to order as well by our staff.” 

The weasel on stage was casually petting over the boy’s soft stomach to show off the soft white fur of that squirrely belly, but then dipped down and pulled down his sheath showing off the little boy’s soft cock to the crowd as the bids come in and small ‘awws’ or chuckles are heard. All while Dexter fights this as best he can, trying to draw away and is crying in the indignity and embarrassment of it all. “Woo look at this folks! This little guy is a fighter! May want to just have a one nighter and then a light meal with him. A meals always better cream filled, am I right!?” The weasel chuckled out as Dexter understood the meaning to be that if he’d not sell as a slave then he would sell as food. This made dexter shake his head and whimper out loudly, muffled screams heard as his pleading eyes looked around at the crowd of well dressed masked figures.
 
A bidding war ensues, with a porcelain white and gold masked black and white rabbit in a fine coat, and a rather carnivorous looking lioness who’s mask is plain white with a pair of blood red streaks that look like bloody hand prints on both sides. Someone in the crowd remarked aloud that the lioness needs to leave some for the rest of them, that she already bought a stag, and a doe slave, as well as a pangolin for dinner. She exclaims that if she’d known they’d have a squirrel she’d have saved for him instead as its her favorite entertainment and meal, “even if he is on the scrawny side”. The crowd had a good chuckle at her remarks and most seemed to even pick up bidding just to frustrate her.

With every bid of the rabbit, the lioness looked more and more hungrily at the boy. But soon enough what looked to be her husband whispered in her ear and she stopped the bidding war with the hare. With the countdown going on the final bit, the hare looked as if he was about to win, when a buck with a face mask of a jaguar ended up placing the winning bid, much to the relief of Dexter, as the hungry woman had lost.

The squirrel is marched off stage and back into the cages with the other sold slaves, unfortunately being face to dick with that zebra for a time. All of the slaves somewhat traumatized from tonight’s events, some of which are crying, and some are already missing from the pack before. From the hushed muzzled murmurs, It seems the ones sold as food never make it back to the cages. So he was safe for now.

He stood there in silence with the other muzzled slaves as things sink in. In time the event slowly winds down, the slaves are one by one removed from the cages and handed by leash to their owner. Some are lucky enough to get a cloak thrown on them, but most leave as nude as they camel.

Everyone in the cage leaves but him, until its just him and the guard standing by the cage that handed out the slaves to others. This large nightstalker guard, a mix of a coyote and viper, hears the grand doors to the hall shut and only then opens the cage and hooks a leash onto the boy’s collar, leading him to the slave’s quarters where he is pushed into an office that has a doberman with golden magitek hands sitting at a desk.

Busy with his paperwork, apparently tending to the slave transactions and marking their new owners one by one as the night stalker picks up and sets the boy in the seat before the doberman, then leaving the room himself. 

The dog behind the desk fills him in as he finishes up the paperwork, telling him “My name is Chance, the caretaker here. You have been purchased by the lord of the manor, and you will be expected to do work around the estate. You will be well taken care of; but only if you listen, complete the tasks given in a timely manner, and do them exactly as specified. Your work will be paid, but all of it will go towards paying off the debt of buying you, the cost of food, the cost of clothing, and shelter, everything will be accounted for and handled by Me. By the laws of our fair city, this is to be an equitable exchange where you will make the same pay as any other worker, but all credits will be used to pay debts, and  then put in escrow until the end of your contracted time here. Which is currently set at 12 years, pending work quality and debts incurred under our care including medical expenses.”

Dexter still has his muzzle on, and could not respond more than a whimper and sniffle, still coming down from his ordeal on stage as he nodded. Chance finishes the paperwork at last, and seals the last envelope with his wax seal. Now done he stands up, walks to the little squirrel, undoes his muzzle, and his tail, leaving the collar on and his arms behind his back. Chance asks “Will you be good and obey us? If so, we will get you some food and a bed.” To which the boy agrees for now, simply so tired and wanting the day to be over. But already, he is thinking he can escape. But... in the morning after a meal and rest.

Chance undoes his arms and hands him the stack of envelopes he’d been writing and sealing. “Carry these for me. We will drop them off for the morning mail to pick up, and then I will take you to meet chef. We will get a meal in you, and show you to your bed for the night.”

They do just that, the boy covering himself with his tail as soon as he stands up to follow the doberman. Chance smiling at seeing this and telling him “Your nudity is indeed shameful. You should never let the lord see your tiny little boyhood. There is no greater disgrace. And he best not ever catch you laying eyes on anyone else’s. Especially not his if ever you have the chance. He has brutalized slaves for less.” Playing into the boy’s humiliation, though that tail easily covers him. 

The pair walk to the front gate past the once bustling main hall where he’d been on stage only a short while ago. Chance handed the leash to the guard, took the stack of papers from the boy’s hands, walked out the smaller side door. The guard was that same night stalker from earlier, that looked down at him with those snakelike eyes, leaning down growling and hissing out, “Listen close kid, hurt anyone, try to esscape, or upssset the lord, and I wont even need chef to cook you up to make a good meal for me. I’ll just sweallow you whole” The night stalker opened his maw wide and the sets of fangs sprang from the top of his maw, making Dexter whimper louder and step back, tugging at the collar and leash. The guard chuckle loudly as the doberman entered the room and glared at him before snatching the leash away. “The lord will hear of you terrorizing his newest slave Thalir.” The nightstalker clad in porcelain plated, and scaled metal armors chuckle loudly and correct Chance “Nooo, no. Not terrorizzze... Sssimply gave him sssome worthwhile advissse.”

Chance lead the now once more crying squirrel away from the night stalker speaking kindly to him, “Listen, he wont hurt you unless you give him the ability to by disobeying or trying to escape. Like I said, life here is easy and you won't even have to worry about him if you behave.”  Once in the kitchen, the large male cheetah, “chef” is still busy cooking up orders for the morning’s meal or to send up to nobles who have simply moved into guest rooms for the night. But he somehow finds the time to whip the boy up some tasty butter-nut-bread, and a glass of tasty warm cream. Chance sets at the single table in the kitchen, taking the more decorated and padded chair while Dexter gets to eat at the chef’s table opposite him. 

Chance tells him some of his duties here, what's expected of him. Cleaning, cutting fire wood, stoking fires at night, tending the stables if he is tasked with it, and in general it’s mostly just a bunch of simple tasks that take no skill. Simpler tasks than he’d have done back at home as he was due to soon start working the mining fields of the stones that come scooting across the desert, picking them over for rich ores.

Chance goes on  “The lord did purchase you for other tasks too, but those he will tell you about himself. I may be his steward, but I know my place, and know some things are only for his lips.” A hint at the boy’s future. “You will be expected to do your normal tasks at all times. As long as it's all taken care of, and you are not caught slacking, you will get 2 good meals a day, and a place to sleep in the slave’s commons. At least until you have worked off your debt and can start to afford a private room on the estate.”

Chance details that in 12 years time he may be able to purchase his freedom, or if he chooses to stay, may can take up a job in this manor then as free man like chance did. “I was a slave just like you. But to our lord’s Father. The lord’s father was a kinder man, but the lord himself is not bad, simply a bit,... pardon my saying so, but spoiled. If you are honest, work hard, and show him you are eager to make him happy, he will provide you a happy and comfortable life with friends, food, shelter, and even education. Something most commoners never get. You can serve your time here and leave a well trained and skilled man. But only if you behave.”

Dexter had been digging into the food, devouring the bread in just a few bits, and having to fight his tail which was still between his legs, only now twitching in joy at the delicious food. His mood, and the tail’s excitability was dampened some by the thought of spending his entire life time over again here in this place. But so far,... things were not so bad. As he sipped the sweet cream, and thought more on it, things actually were better so far here. His mother was not telling him how everything was his fault... his father could not beat him anymore. And they’d even been paid so his brothers and sisters could survive longer.

A thought stopped his heart for a beat as he almost shot cream from his nose remembering his sister. His ordeal had been so much for him to take in he didn't even think to find her. He’d not seen her in the cages out back before the auction, and not seen her in the cage after... What happened to her? “M-mister Chance?” Dexter set the glass of cream down sheepishly, his long claws tensing around it as he looked deeper into that glass of milk as if it was a crystal ball, but more so doing it not to look at chance in the eye. “I h-had a sister... Her name was Alari. She w-was a black s-squirrel, a little sm-maller than me.” He was once more on the verge of crying thinking of his sister. She’d not been that close to him, none of the children were back home... but she was special to him because she was the first one who actually looked up to him in some ways.

He looked back up at Chance who was writing in a personal notepad at this point. “I’ll look into what happened to her. I know she was not here tonight. We only ordered one squirrel since they.... you’d have been siblings and we don't want anyone inbreeding slaves. Likely means she was sold off to the dockside brothels then come to think of it. Squirrels are not much good elsewhere. Too scrawny for most works.”

Chance had been lost in thought for a moment, snapping back to reality and looking back at the boy before tucking away his note pad. “Don't worry little Dexter. I’ll find your sister for you and make sure you both know each other are safe. I can’t say the lord would buy her but I can say that she likely was not eaten. Eating slaves is prohibitively expensive for children. The taxes on it are simply astronomical. The tax goes down the older the slave is of course.” He rambles on as he stands up and takes hold of the boy’s leash once more.

The squirrel finished his milk quickly before standing up and moving to hug Chance’s leg, being stopped quickly. “Now now, I understand you’re upset but no one is permitted to touch one another without permission or reason here. I don't like people touching me, and I assume you don't like them touching you. Only the lord can do that. Or security, and overseers like myself, if you’re disrupting life here, and medical to treat you. Now, come along. I need to show you where the communal showers are.” 

And just like that they left the kitchen, Dexter feeling much better now with food in his tummy, knowledge that his sister is likely safe, but not knowing what a brothel is. He is given brief instructions on how to shower and that he should do so every morning and evening as chance shows him around in there. They allow him to skip this evening’s shower since they know the slavers just bathed him and he looks about ready to pass out.

It is then that he is shown to the slave’s commons. It was one large hall filled with beds. Some of which were enclosed by furniture such as dressers and some rare room dividers. It seemed the more luxurious bedding areas were often for the more senior, and older, slaves. The lord had a good few slaves and most were seemingly of similar species. It was mostly rodents, rabbits, hares, mice, rats, and a few other prey species such as opossum, ibex, and deer. There were carnivorous slaves but the boy just didn't know it.

He was lead by the doberman down the long row of beds with sleeping slaves in them. Most of the slaves had clothing on, but not all and so he was not entirely alone being nude. Most notably, the ones he saw with clothing all had lovely, well decorated collars that were quite fancy. Only a handful were in an iron collar like him, and they were all nude still.

It was then that he got to his bed, third to last on his row, that he saw on one side was a little nude mouse girl, fast asleep, and on the other side, a red squirrel, who had on a simple loin cloth and one of the fancier collars.

Dex tried to speak to the boy, but the boy didn't respond, only waving at him then putting a finger over his lips and pointing to the pillow. The beds were very very simple, and offered no covers for most of them. But the room was warm, dim, and mostly quiet aside from some snoring, some mumbling, and some far away noises that sounded almost like whistling as he finally heard the quietness of the manse.

After waking up he realized that most of the other slaves were already up doing chores. As he was getting up, a rather lanky genet woman walks over, dressed in finer attire, and eyes him up and down with hungry eyes. She smirks and says sternly “Get up, go get a shower, and go to the kitchen. NOW.”

As he got up, still covering himself with his tail, she stood over him and kept her eyes locked to him with her hands on her hips. When he ran by her to get to the showers she’d grab his tail’s base, letting his forward motion pull it through her hand and away from between his legs. She yanked it a little and looked right between his legs before he covered himself and opened his mouth to say something to her before she cut him off. “I thought you were a boy, look at that cute little thing. Make sure you wash down there too. And don't make me have to check your work. If I think you skimped on cleaning, I will check. Now get going!” She said releasing his tail by all but throwing it at him. 

A squeak and a nod coming from him as the squirrel scurried away but called her a bitch under his breath. This made her chuckle uproariously and call out to him. “You’re lucky you’re new. But keep up that spirit, the lord will love it I’m sure.”

He reached the showers, washed, did as ordered cleaning his bits just to make sure she’d not come check. And once done went to walk out still dripping wet, not having been told how to dry off. Another slave, this time a bull, stopped him and pointed to a strange metal looking platform by the exit. “Stan’ there, press the red glowin’ thing and close your eyes and mouth. It’ll make a noise 5 times and then instantly dry you.” “How?” “D’know. Just does. Just be sure to close your eyes and mouth.”

Dex does just as told, walking onto the platform that was a circle made of white and chrome metals, before pressing the glowing red button. After 5 beeps it did just as he was told it would. But having forgotten to close his eyes or mouth, it instantly dried his eyes and throat out to the point it choked him a bit and made him stagger around. His eyes were in mild pain but otherwise fine after a few blinks, but it was as if his throat and lungs were dry as a bone and it would take a moment of coughing and gasping for air before the bull handed him a glass of water. “Tol’ya kid. Close your eyes and mouth.”

The kid had heard of some of these technologies but never seen any first hand. These otherworldly technologies that were extremely rare and even more rarely understood. Legend was they fell from the sky near his home, but he never saw any.

He makes his way with the bull towards the kitchen, but the bull stops him as he tries to go into the kitchen “Waya’ doin’ kid? We don't go in there. Th-” Dex cut him off with “The mean cat lady said to, and i'm so thirsty and hungry...” The bull removed his hand from the kid’s chest “Ah, Liara tol’ya to. Okay. Bu’ normally you go another door down to th’ meal hall. Chef gives us food there. G’luck kid.”

Dex enters the kitchen and sees the lord for the first time, The regal red deer sitting at the table where chance had sat last night, and eating an elaborate meal. Beside him, kneeling, the little red squirrel, also happily munching on some food with his plate in the floor. Dex was at once terrified. And didn't know what to do.

The lord beacons him over and points to the floor in front of the other squirrel. “Don't worry, I'm a deer, I only rarely eat meat. So I wont bite.” This got a scoff from Chef, who was shot a glare, and instantly turned to bow to the deer before going silently back to work. Behind him was a tall tan and cream furred female sergal dressed in ceremonial ceramic armor and wielding a large intricate polearm. The imposing figure of the guard was massive and frightening to the squirrel, remembering how mean the guard last night was. He made his way over to the chair, hugging his tail to himself and hiding his body with it. The boy was so busy taking her in, that he instinctively set in the chair across from the lord, not thinking.

Dex asked “Excuse me... sir? Can I have some more of that sweet bread and cream?” The buck looked over at the cheetah with a brow cocked. “Chef, did I hear him right? You fed him dessert for a first meal? You got this little fuzzballs’ brain all scrambled now. Give him the same thing you feed all new slaves, Understood? I’ll discipline you later for your lack of protocol.” This was followed sharply with a quiet whimper from the cheetah, and barked “Yes Mi’lord. I shall obey protocol Mi’lord. Deservedly so Mi’lord.” 

The cheetah served the slave something that was much less appealing, and instead of serving it at the table where the boy was sitting, across from the buck, The cheetah set it in the floor near the plate of the red squirrel. 

On dex’s own plate was something that looked like bread, but was more or less a nutraloaf. A highly nutritious, but horribly bland, or somewhat just bad tasting bread. And beside it was a glass of water. 

Dex could not help but notice the other squirrel had a much nicer meal, though. One of strawberries, peaches, and other diced fruits and a glass of juice. He then made the mistake of looking back up to the buck. The buck smirked and pointed to the floor. “Slaves do not eat at my table. Kneel down there where you belong.”

This was when the boy’s temper got the best of him, and he snapped back “No... The floor is icky... Why can’t I eat at the table?” There was the sound of ceramic sliding together, and leather from behind the buck as the large sergaless lowered the tip of her pole arm at the squirrel and barked out “You DARE speak to-” And in an instant she saw the lord’s hand raise and she resumed her post, returning to her statuesque pose, falling still and silent once more. 

To say this frightened the squirrel would be an understatement. He’d stood and took a few steps back in instinct, his tail flipping up and out of his arms to a ready position behind him as he looked like he was ready to climb the walls. In doing so, he’d also broken the greatest sin of the lord’s he’d been told of, though he was so focused on the woman he didn't realize he was showing his privates to the buck all at once.

The buck on the other hand smiled, and shook his head, looking back over at chef. “Did you hear that chef? This little thing thinks your floors are ‘icky’. And after all of you slaves spend so much time cleaning it every day. Do I punish him for besmirching your honor? Or is he right? Should I punish you for the dirty floors?”

The grin on the buck was simply malign, making the soft hearted cheetah choose to punish the new little slave, or take yet another punishment that he didn't even deserve. Chef spoke up, “I-... I suppose the floors need a bit more polish, Mi'lord.” the buck sighed and shook his head. “Too damned predictable chef. This is why you don't get out of here to serve guests anymore. You’re no fun.”

In this exchange, Dex had eventually remembered he was nude and slipped that tail up between his legs again, once more hugging it, to himself like a security blanket. The buck shook his head looking at the boy with a devil's smirk. “Now now, why hide such an adorable little sheath and jewels? I was just about to remark to chef how much cuter yours were than his. Isn’t that right Dominique?” 

With that the large sergal woman spoke up, “Yes Sir. His were adorable. But i’ve never seen chef’s. He’d already earned his clothing before I joined you Sir.” The buck looked back at her, waving a fork with a gob of food on it at her, “You’ve never seen what I did to his cute little cheetah bits? Well thats a crime, I could frame that art work.” The fork pointed to the feline who’d been kneading some dough this while and said simply “Well? Show the woman chef. I do enjoy getting a peek from time to time too, you know.”

Without skipping a beat, chef turned and lifted his apron and robes, showing all of them his bits. The feline had a chastity cage permanently built onto his body. It was of gilded silver and very ornate in design. It permanently held down his sheath to show off his not so large barbed cock, and plump jewels. It’s ornate design meaning that he could not hardly touch his own cock through the cage, and that it’d be far too painful to ever try and insert with the cage on, leaving him permanently chaste.

The buck looked back to the sergal and smirked “See? Isn’t that just lovely looking? He can never use his cock again and its a wonderful art piece to be proud of. Not that any poor person should ever have to interact with such a barbaric cock anyway. All those spikes. Don’t you agree, new slave?”

Dexter had indeed caught an eyeful of the large cat’s not so large gilded caged cock and jewels, but was too busy hiding his face in his tail to respond right away. He eventually blurted out a “No... Can I go now?” The buck let out a deep belly laugh. “Well there you have it, He is disgusted by your cock chef, get back to work.” Dominque chimed in at this point however, “Well I loved what you did with it Sir. It was truly a work of art. But I do agree, the new one’s was cuter.”

Another chuckle came from the lord before he remarked “I see, so we all agree, I need to shrink the cage some on Chef. I think smaller is cuter isn't it?” It was clear that it was already a very tight fit that kept him from getting hard at all, and that anything else would be almost torturous to wear until the body adjusted to it. But such was the plight of a disobedient slave who broke protocol, pitied a new slave, and in his unfortunate case, was looked down on by the lord for having an inherently un-cute cock because of his species. Or more perhaps  because of his being a predator.

The lords good mood was lost almost instantly as he saw the little grey squirrel turn and walk back to the door. Dexter grabbed the door and found out it would not open, not remembering that it needed a key to open from this side. “And where do you think you’re going, new play thing? You come sit down and eat your damned food. You have a long day ahead of you cleaning and I don't want you passing out half way through. I know those slavers practically starve you. You need meat on your bones. ‘Swhy you didn't sell as food.“

Dexter whimpered and tugged one more time on the door to be sure, still hugging his tail with his other hand before turning around and looking at the deer over his fluffy tail. The buck had finished off his plate throwing his fork down on it and leaning back with yet another devilish smirk. The little squirrel quietly whimpered out “C-can I go after I eat?”

The buck inhaled sharply and his eyes softened a bit to a more dull look. “Verywell. How can I argue with something so adorable? I was going to show you a good time but you can eat with Jessie and then go do your chores. Chef will find you at tea time and send you to see me then. You’d best keep that tail where it belongs, nice and high behind you when you do though. I want to see that adorable little sheath of yours on display at all times in my presence from now on.”

Dexter, blushed furiously, and hugged his tail tighter as he slowly walked over and knelt down on the stone tile floor. He took his bread slice and nibbled on it slowly as the buck watched. Though he’d just eaten, it was as if he was staring at a buffet. The boy not understanding why, but all too soon enough he would.

Dexter in the meantime was so terrified of what had happened here. He wanted to just run away, but the only options were to try and run past the guard, or to see if the kitchen led somewhere else, but he was not so sure it was not just a dead end. So he nibbled on that bread and took a huge gulp of that water. The water was the cleanest he’d ever tasted and had a wonderful flavor to it in fact, as it’d been from the lord’s private spring the castle was built on. The glass was slightly fizzy and filled with minerals that  made it delicious. 

The buck nodded seeing the boy enjoying the water crossing his hooved legs and looking down at him. “Good isn’t it? Its what makes this place so special.  The healing springs down below are both delicious and some think its one of the main ingredients to the elixir of immortality. Its why I am so powerful and so rich. And if you’re very very good, i’ll take you to bathe in it some time. People pay a kings ransom to do so. But my slaves get to do it more than most nobles can dream of. I am not without mercy. But I have my needs, and needs must be met.” He stood and walked towards Dominique's door, before Jessie quickly stood and waved at the other squirrel and walked away with the other two. 

Dex whimpered and almost broke down crying, but it was more from stress than having actually been broken. He was just so happy to not have the lord around any more. He took his time to finish his meal. And before he was done, in came the angry feline from earlier, Liara. “Get up. Drink your water and come with me. We have work to do.”

He didn't mind this so much, he wanted away from chef, wanted away from this room, just wanted away in general. He gulped down the last of that water and all but ran out the door past the fancy spotted genet woman. 

She led him down the hall to one of the more grand hallways, handing him a broom and dust pan. “Get to sweeping. This will be your room to start with every day. When you’re done, go down this corridor and sweep the west wing. “ With that, he was left alone now. At first he just swept. But soon enough would gain his composure and want to leave the mansion again. It was only when he peered around the corner did he see the ball room where he’d been auctioned off the night before and saw more guards standing beside the grand doors. In fact he could see other exits, each with a guard either inside or out.

He decided for now he’d keep sweeping, not knowing if the guards would be mean if he stopped or not. He finished with the large connecting room and moved more towards the halls he’d been pointed to before. These rooms, each one seemed to be a different room of some kind. One was a library, filled with books, and treasures, with plenty of lounging spaces. People, slaves he’d seen the night before seemed to be lounging all around and reading and writing. The library was quite aside from hushed whispers. But the people were nice enough waving and smiling at him but otherwise ignoring him and letting him work as he cleaned this room too.

The next room was an art studio. Slaves, all partaking in painting, jewelry making, clay sculptures. Was it for fun? For profit? All of them were so intensely focused, and didn't seem to mind him sweeping around them. 

The next room though bothered  him a lot more. As he entered he saw this was a sort of hospital room. But no one seemed sick, but rather were recovering from various injuries. Bruises, cuts, all of them quiet and either sleeping or lightly sobbing. He swept this room fast and quiet. 

It was not long after he finished this room that the chef came walking down the hall towards him carrying a silver tray with a pot of tea, several small containers of various condiments and a plate of cookies, crackers, cheeses, nuts, and fruits.

“Take this up the stairs down there, all the way to the top. The lord’s study is the first door on the right. Be quick but don't spill anything.” The little squirrel, tail still between his legs, nodded and carried the tray as best he could, though his tail fluff getting all over the various foods as he did.

He made his way to the designated room and gently opened it to see the lord, whip in hand, chuckling as the little mute red squirrel from earlier was whipped while tied to a St.Andrew’s cross, yelping and crying loudly with each crack of the whip, but never speaking a word.

The buck turned to see the new slave enter the room  before he casually undid the squirrel’s arms and legs and threw the whip overtop the cross. “Just in time, I was starting to get bored.” Dexter shudders and whimpers seeing the little red squirrel collapse with red streaks across his back. Dexter looked back to the buck as he set down at his desk and beckoned him over with a finger.

The little grey squirrel whimpered louder and bit his lower lip with his cute little well maintained rodent teeth before slowly walking over and setting the tray down on the desk. His curiosity got the better of him. “W-what did he do?” The buck had already snatched up some cheese covered crackers and munched on them happily. With a mouthful he said “Him? Nah, nothing. I was just having fun.” 

The little red squirrel slowly crawled his way over to the side of the lord’s desk to kneel beside it. It was now that Dexter could see that he was nude now as well, missing that loincloth from earlier, and a little hot pink condom had been placed on his cock and it had a little bit in it saved up. Listening closely there was the sound of a mild buzzing coming from him, and every now and then it was like the little red squirrel would tense up, huff, pant, and squeak out loudly as his cock would throb in that little pink condom and fill it a little more.

The buck noticed the grey squirrel’s eyes on the little red squirrel’s bits and smirked. “Like what you see slave?” Dexter’s attention all at once snapped back to  the buck stammering out “I,.. no, I don’... What?” The buck leaned over and gripped firmly on the pink condom and pulled it off the squirrel before bringing it to his empty teacup and pouring the crystal clear gooey liquid into his cup and filling it with the tea after. He casually slipped that condom back onto the little squirrel’s tiny cock and sipped at his tea.

The little grey squirrel stood there hugging his tail, and closing his eyes. “C-can I go now?” The buck scoff and snapped his fingers as the sergaless guard locked the door and removed the key from it so it could not be opened. The buck turned and eyed his new slave up and down good and through. “Move your tail slave. I’d ordered you not to hide yourself in front of me anymore.” He said casually as he held a hand on his chin and an arm across his chest as he studied the boy.

Dexter shook his head sternly and hugged his tail tighter. This only made the buck smirk more and lean back. “Disobedient eh? Well i’ll give you this option. You can either do as you’re told, or she can come over here and do it for you.

The boy looked to the sergal guard, then back to the lord, and in a split second, he’d turned and bolted for the door. Only to catch the blunt end of the sergaless’ polearm to his solar plexus which instantly knocked him flat on his back and knocked every ounce of breath from him at the same time. As he lay there gasping for air, coughing, sputtering, and unable to breathe, the sergaless grabbed his wrists, pulled a long strip of coarse rope from one of her belt pouches, and casually tied his arms down behind his back along with his tail in a diamond weave arm bind. 

About the time she finished he’d just then be able to breath once more and could focus on fighting, but by this point it was too late, he’d have been well bound and secured.  The large imposing sergal woman all but drug him on his knees to lay in front of the lord who simply set there smiling. “Oh I can tell this is going to be fun little one. Now; Stand up and let me see your little bits. I want to see what i'm working with here.”

Dexter, still short of breath shook his head sternly, leaning further down to face the floor, bringing his little thighs together to hide himself, and coughed out a quite rude “F-fuck off...” This made the buck chuckle uproariously before moving a hoof under him and casually flipping him over to lay on his back leaving him unable to really move with his arms bound so well behind him. The buck stood up and pressed a hoof down on his chest, knowing he was still short of breath, pressing down hard enough to make the boy unable to take but only the most shallow of breaths. “Apologize and i’ll make this easy on you slave.”

Dexter gasp but was unable to fill his lungs, still partially paralyzed and with the weight of that hoof on his chest making it hard to focus  as his eyes dimmed a little. He shook his head and tried to speak, only getting off a “Ffuuu-” from the pressure on his chest. The buck sighed and removed his foot only to turn and sit back down in his chair. The sergaless moved to grab the boy and stood him on his knees like the little red squirrel who’d kept his head lowered the whole time. 

The buck nodded to her and she slipped a blindfold over the boy’s eyes, tying it tight to his head. “Now then. I want you to sit there and relax for a moment while I explain this to you only once.” The buck casually adjusted himself in the chair, some sounds heard but not understood as Dexter finally fully caught his breath. The buck kept speaking in a calm, even toned manor, almost as if he was tired of giving this speech. “You are my slave. You obey me, I make life easy. You disobey me, then I make life hell. The thing is, I really don't care what you do. I have more fun if you disobey me sometimes, but all the same I do get frustrated if you do it too much. Now then, I’m going to give you a simple order. Obey me, and it will be fun. At least for me. Or rather at least until you learn to enjoy it.”

Dexter was still a bit short of breath and could only really focus on getting his diaphragm working properly again as he took short panicked breaths that slowly grew longer and longer. He whine and his long fluff tipped ears perked to the lords words. “Stand up slave.” Dexter shook his head and whimpered more. “N-no!” The buck sighed and snapped his fingers. In an instant Dominique had hefted the boy up onto the desk laying on it with his tail up high because of the binding. There was something cold and metal then firmly placed under the boy’s tail before it was shoved in with a twist, and had thankfully for him been lubed beforehand. All at once the small plug under his tail sprang to life and started to vibrate within his bottom.

“Aaah! G-get it out! P-Please take it out! It hurts!” The lord sighed and grumbleddeeply. “NO, you little shit, you want pain!? Fine. I was going to make this fun for you but no, fine.” And with that the sergaless pinned him down by  his shoulder and readied something over his neck, unable to tell what it was. Meanwhile the lord rifled around in his desk a moment before a click was heard and the cold metal thing under his tail let out a somewhat mild electric zap on his prostate, drawing his balls up to his body through force, but not getting anything out of him as it cut off before anything could be forced out. The pain was strong enough for him to reconsider what pain was and that he needed to reevaluate his situation. 

As his mouth shot open to scream, Dominique slipped a ring gag into his muzzle and lashed it tight to his head so he could not close his maw anymore. Through that gag, little Dexter screams and moans out, only in ‘ahhs’ and ‘oohs’ now, crying and whimpering as he was molested by that toy that still vibrate under his tail. “There now, this is not painful anymore is it? Want me to make it painful, you worthless little lying shit?” Dexter shook his head violently and said ”‘No! NO! Naa again!” The buck set back in his chair and let out another grumble, this one different, almost like a purr from a puma. “See? Now had you just obeyed me that would not have had to happen.  Keep fighting i’ll make you mute like this one!” The little grey squirrel was picked up and laid on his back now, instinctively bringing his thighs together to hide himself again as the buck growled once more “Spread your legs and show me your sheath slave, last warning.”

Dexter, though sobbing and whimpering loudly, did as he was told and spread his legs revealing that cute little sheath and jewels to the buck once more who instantly moved his paw to them, making the boy jerk in revolt, but didn't dare try to kick the buck knowing he’d be in a world of hurt if he did. The buck hands pulled down his little sheath and fooled around with the little pink squirrel cock for a moment, examining it and just teasing the soft little cock. The buck smirked and snapped his fingers again, “Dominique, come here and give it a taste wont you?” The sergaless, grumbled in begrudgement, but stepped over doing as ordered, wrapping that long warm wet tongue around the little squirrel meat and suckling on it lightly as best she can with its size.

“So cute isnt it? If he behaved better i’d probably make him fuck you for my amusement.” “Wha’ ever you sha’ shir’” Dominique responded before being allowed to pull her tongue back and lick her lips a bit. “That said sir, he does have good taste. You’ll probably like him almost as much as little Jessie.” The buck chortled and  slipped a neon purple condom over it before pulling his sheath up, and letting it be alone now, with a tiny tip of that purple sticking out of his fur. 

“That so? Well we will see. I wonder if we will get any cream from him from this.” Dexter was quietly sobbing to himself and just laying there limply defeated as he was once more set on his knees before the lord. With no hesitation or warning, something warm and moist entered his muzzle from that ring gag. It was long, tapered, slick, and admittedly tasted deliciously salty and semi-sweet to the little squirrel, as the cock of the cervine lord was drug along his tongue, the underside of it coated in pre from their little adventure thus far.  With just the tip in, the buck leaned back in his chair waiting to see what the boy would do. Blindfolded, and blindsided by this all he didn't know what he had in his mouth at first, and didn't care to speculate either. But as the orders came, it became all too clear what it was. “Now, take it as deep as you can slave. And if you try and slip off that ring to bite, i’ll just get dominique to cut your head off.” 

There was a snap of fingers before Dexter felt the little boy’s hands on him, the slightly older squirrel boy pressing on the boy’s back so he could not back away from the lord’s cock. “Jessie is going to hold you nice and tight in place. If you fight him, or he can’t keep you in place, then I will punish you both. Listen to me, and get to my medial ring, and i’ll even take that thing out of your bottom, understood?”

The buck grumbled a good deep rumbled purr of delight as the little squirrel on his cock nod lightly that he understood, and slowly started to sink down onto the lord’s long tapered cock. “Keeeep going slave... you have a long road ahead of you.” Dexter cough and sputter some, and tried to back off even now, but just as badly not wanting to be punished, Jessie held him on hard, and wanted to tell him to try and swallow the tip but had no words left to speak as he whimpered in Dex’s ear while pressing him harder and harder forward.

“You’re slipping boy.... I better not feel another inch back off.” With that Jessie panicked and all but tackled the little grey squirrel forward, and in doing so gag the boy hard on that cervine cock, but got it down far enough for the lord to tremble briefly and growl out in ecstasy... “Therrrre we go... Much better.” He gripped the little grey squirrel’s ears and started massaging lightly to reward him, looking down to see him almost on that medial ring as Jessie looked up at him and he nodded before jessie shoved harder again and got that slave to kiss the deer’s sheath as that long tapered cock throb in his throat and the little grey squirrel gag and choke more squirming hard as he slowly started to fade from lack of air.

The buck grumbel out and set up some before nodding to Jessie, who let off the little squirrel,  but didn't let the buck slip from his muzzle all together. “See that wasn't so bad was it?” With tears in his eyes, and pain all the way down his throat he shook his head, either not wanting to be rude, or perhaps more likely begging him to not do it again.

The buck leaned forward and whispered something into Jessie's ear that elicited a whimper from him. The little gray squirrel felt a paw under his backside and soon the cold metal thing was removed from under his tail. A relief for Dexter surely. But just as quickly as that was gone, something smaller, but much warmer was up under the boy’s tail, as he felt Jessie press his body up against him and start humping like mad. He could feel Jessie’s little cock throbbing hard as he was molested by it, the little 3 inch cock of his own being almost as long as the toy he’d just had in his backside, but thankfully a good bit thinner as it meant that he was not overly stretched by it.

Jessie whimpered and pant into the boy’s ear as it was fondled and scratched. “There now, how adorable is that Dominique?” The sergaless snickering to herself and agreeing “Pretty damned cute. Maybe they should be put on display like this in the main hall some time for guests. Make it an interactive display where guests can have their dick sucked or milk that cute little squirrel cock till he screams like a little girl on her first time.” The two squirrels whimper and whine both trembling at this, but Jessie never losenses up on his speed as he bounces the little grey squirrel’s plush backside on his cock and goes back to pressing his head forward to please the lord, now moving the gray squirrel’s maw back and forth on that long cervine cock forcefully.

The lord groan out and smirk down to little Jessie. “Now see here Dexter? See how Jessie is having fun with this? Be more like him and i’ll let you have fun too.”  Jessie gave a little squirrely bark to this trying his best to appease the lord while still molesting poor little dexter’s backside. As dexter’s muzzle was forced up and down on that rod, the buck fondled those ears more and more, picking up the pace and eventually face fucking the little squirrel. As the pace picked up, and the primal growling of the buck was all that came from him, Dominique spoke up, “Looks like you better get ready to swallow. Quickly and as much as you can, new toy.” The buck didn't say a word, picking up pace as his cock throb harder and harder and with each throb came more pre, but soon all at once he shoved that cock back down to the hilt letting his seed spray deep into the little boy’s stomach and fill it up with his seed. On the last throb he pulled the long tapered cock from his maw leaving a trail of cum up and letting the last bit fill the slave’s muzzle with that hot sticky fluid.

“Hoooo,... fuck me...” Said the buck with a chuckled panting nature pushing the two back so jessie fell on the floor and out of Dexter, and leaving dexter on his knees, cheeks wet and matted from tears. The buck removed the ring gag and set it aside before moving a paw down to the boy’s crotch feeling that little condom to see how much if any pre or cum had collected there, but not finding any to speak of. “Awww, looks like little Dexter needs more training. Thats alright, we have the rest of his life for that don’t we?”

Dexter whimpered and gulped down the cum in his maw, though savoring the flavor a little, unexpectedly enjoying it and not wanting to show that to his new owner. Jessie knelt up beside his slave-brother now, keeping his head low. The buck stuffed  himself away, and removed the blindfold from dex before snapping his fingers and pointing to his arm bindings.  She undoes them in a rather rapid manor while the lord speaks. “There, I had my fun for the morning. I may call on you later but for now you’re both free to join your brothers and sisters in the west wing reading, leaning, painting, whatever you want.” The little red squirrel chirped at this and stood up  running half way to the door, before stopping, turning to face hsi lord and bowing happily. 

“Now hold on little ones, One last order. You are to share your bed from now on, and I don't care how or who does what, but from now on one of you sleeps with your cock buried in the other. I’ll be sending Liara around to make sure your listening to my order so you’d best keep it up. Now let Dominique remove your toy before you leave Jessie.” Dominique sigh but did as asked reaching under the big fluffy tail and retrieving the chrome looking metal plug before Jessie ran to the door waiting for it to be unlocked. Dexter on the other hand just set there on the floor, tail straight out behind him and limp as he sobbed and sniffled.

The buck leaned in and moved a paw to the little squirrel’s chin, lifting it up to catch his eyes. “You are forgiven. But I expect you to either enjoy pain if you want to fight so much, or obey me if you don't like pain from now on. Those are your only options. You played yourself on me, slave. Now, pick yourself up, and go have fun with your new friend. He is excited to have someone to show around.” though it may have been hard for the boy to take this all in as all that while the buck’s other hand had been gently stroking the little gray sheath teasingly. But eventually Dexter did stand up and grab  his tail to hug it between his legs before starting to walk away.

“Ah-ah! Let go of that tail slave, and turn to face me.” Dexter whimpered, and slowly complied, letting his limp tail fall to the floor again with his big fluffy ears pinned back showing that little white sheath to the lord again, little purple condom tip sticking from it’s slit. “Remember, never hide those cute little bits from me slave. They are my eye candy. Now you may go.”

Dominique unlocked the door, and Jessie grabbed Dexter’s wrist and quickly drug him out of the room, and as soon as he was out of eyesight of the lord, his long red and cream tail wrapped around his hips like a fluffy skirt hiding that hot pink condom covered cock and cream colored orbs. Turning to Dex helping and picking up Dexter's tail for him to hug and giving the little squirrel boy a light hug before running down the hall excitedly, eventually leading him to the art room where the two would relax, painting and sculpting clay till supper, shower, and bed time. Latter that night, Liara finding the two as ordered, with Dex suckling on Jessie’s little cock and sheath in bed as if it was a pacifier.