Sterling tossed and turned against his special mattress. Thin walls let muffled moans and bed creaks seep in from the room next to his, waking him up slowly. He stretched his arms out to yawn only to stop once they hit the roof of his pen. Not the first time he’d forgotten its height, thankfully his forehead wasn’t the reminder. Looking forward to the bars locking him in, the doberman found a lack of feet belonging to someone to let him out. He smacked himself, “Right, Saturday.” Which meant he was on his own until the company his stepdad brought home was satisfied. Normally he’d get up, make himself some cereal, and watch cartoons or sit near the bedroom door to enjoy the sounds. But he’d been a bad boy last night, refusing to eat his vegetables until Derrick really intervened. So he’d be stuck in the cage until they were done. It wasn’t all bad. Sterling liked being in the cage and definitely told his dad on a few occasions. The tight space was just another restriction he could eagerly sink into. Some nights if he had trouble sleeping he’d slip into the cage for the rest of it. Derrick put a stop to that, locking the cage whenever it closed. He told Sterling that he needed to not conflate punishments and rewards, but he couldn’t help it. It felt as nice as the gray leather collar around his neck, with a little tag that said ‘Property of Derrick Kochs’. The moaning grew louder. The fox lady again. Sterling noticed she’d been coming more often and found her annoying. She acted like Derrick would collar her soon, but he only saved those for his husband and him. Though his dad got it first. Still the sounds were nice. He slipped a finger between his legs to strum his button. He wasn’t supposed to, not without Derrick’s permission, but unlike his father Sterling lived dangerously with the rules. A harsh spanking would wake him up better anyhow. A final euphoric cry erupted from the other room, mixed in by rapid creaking until a sudden stop and a lurid moan. Biting his lip, the doberman pulled away. Arousal slipped down his legs while tight breaths stemmed his inner fire. Heavy footsteps echoed toward him. None carried intent, just the weight of his master lazily making his way toward the pup. His tail beat back and forth in waiting. Normally his biological father was the first person to meet him in the morning and there was nothing wrong with that. Sir just had a…Sterling would call it an aura. Something that made the doberman happily fall to his knees where he felt comfortable. With a yawn his master walked in. “Morning, Sterling.” Thick black fingers of an orca held the lock of his cage to insert the key. Sterling crawled out with his head bowed. “Sleep well?” “Yes, sir.” His tail became a blur in his master’s presence. “Stand in attention.” His stepfather commanded. Sterling brought his arms down to his sides and kept his feel shoulder-length apart. He stared forward, catching a full glimpse of his stepfather’s cock. The thick organ was still slick with juice, either the woman’s or his dad’s saliva cleaning it off. The stainless steel shaft piercings glistened in the sun’s rays. Breathing caught its virile scent, blanketing the pup’s nose with the aftershave of musk. One rebellious flick of his tongue broke his lips, eager to taste the open air. The orca stood to match his member. Tall and ripped, Derrick often had to duck his head down to enter most rooms. He’d heard his fathers talk about rebuilding their home to accommodate him but the orca was fine with it. Something about the money being too much. He smiled down to his stepson. “Well, you seem excited. Fun dream?” “Not really.” Sterling rarely remembered them a minute after waking. “Sir, why isn’t dad letting me out? Is he feeling ok?” Derrick laughed, patting that black tuft of headfur Sterling called hair. His strong hand was warm and welcoming. He couldn’t wait for it to be firm. “Bitch is busy cleaning out our guest. My condom broke so we’re not taking any second chances.” He tilted his head, silently questioning why Sir would lie about why he made the older doberman do that. Sterling had stayed in on enough sessions to know the orca’s favorite things he made his dad do. Things Sterling wished he could do. What he would do if his owner said yes to sex. But he had no owner yet, just a loving pair of fathers who were willing to help guide the young pup through submissive desires. After brushing his teeth Sterling found Derrick downstairs mixing a bowl of pancake batter. Normally his biological father made breakfast, with the orca citing he was no cook, but from the grunts up upstairs it sounded like he was too busy cleaning up his master’s leftovers to do it. Sterling didn’t mind, happily taking his seat to enjoy pancakes drenched in syrup. He was halfway through before his father joined them, lips still slick with Derrick’s seed. The orca smiled at him, scarcely giving a nod to the fox lady waving goodbye as she passed them by. “Morning, Bitch. Hope you’re still hungry.” Bitch wasn’t his real name. Sterling remembered it as Theo but they never uttered it much. Maybe at school during parent-student events. Regardless, the adult doberman blushed with cropped ears pointed up and his nubby tail wagging. Unlike Derrick, who spent so much time at the gym time that Sterling couldn’t wait to join him, Bitch had a lithe frame that fit what his master lovingly called a twink. Like Sterling, he had a gray leather collar. Unlike his son, Bitch walked around the house naked save for said collar and a small and tight chastity cage. Sterling couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, his father used it. Had to be at least once, given that Sterling existed. The adult doberman nodded. Derrick closed the gap between them with several steps and hooked his finger around the collar’s D-ring. Bitch’s eyes widened at the sudden kiss. His body melted as his master’s tongue invaded his maw. Sterling rubbed his legs together to stem the tides of desire that came from he was watching. His father giggled, covering his blushing face as they broke away. “Oh my god, give me a little warning. I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.” A new white glop crossed Derrick’s lips only to be licked away. “I know, that’s what makes it so fun.” Before meeting Sir, his dad rarely showed affection. He wasn’t a stoic emotionless person, but Sterling rarely remembered seeing the doberman smile or laugh with his mother. Back then he was gloomy, head hunched forward as if to avoid notice. Despite the collar and the title, his dad stood tall, smiling and giggling whenever Derrick put his hands on him. And while Sterling was happy his dad was happy, seeing the way the orca used him made the pup feel green with envy. He tried to stem the thoughts through breakfast. Derrick showed their female guest out without much fanfare, returning to a stack of waffles and a pitcher of warm syrup. Sterling stared at it longingly until Derrick ate, and the orca didn’t start until Bitch seated himself on the chair beside him. As was the rule, the dominant eats first. “Will you be back early today, Sir?” His father asked. Derrick looked disappointed as he sighed, finishing the last of his waffles before speaking. “I wish. Client is being a real hard…” he caught himself before swearing, “Butt. So I’ll probably be staying a full day this weekend.” Sterling wasn’t sure why Derrick tiptoed around swears when he was present. His father told him it was so Sterling didn’t pick up adult language to say in front of kids, but he’d already known most of his swear words long before he heard his father and his father’s master utter them through thin walls. The women weren’t the most eloquent either, preferring to voice about god in bed rather than say variations of ‘fuck me’. His father nodded, disappointed but understanding. Derrick stopped him from getting the plates. “Sterling, clear the table.” The young doberman’s ears stood tall at the order. Without a sound, he leapt from his chair, grabbed each plate, and brought it to the sink. His father liked to keep his butt arched out when washing before stacking the dishwasher, making it easier for Derrick to take hold of it. Though the orca told Sterling he wouldn’t, that didn’t stop Sterling from hoping it would happen if he did the same. “Sterling, come here,” Derrick asked midway through the doberman’s rinse cycle. Standing at attention, Sterling followed the orca’s finger to a wet spot on the cushion of his seat. Blush crossed his face when the master of the house spoke, “What have I told you about leaving messes like this?” “That I shouldn’t, Sir.” He had excuses for why. After all, could he be blamed for finding his parent’s dynamic attractive? But rules were rules, they were made to be followed by submissives and slaves, never broken. He didn’t voice an apology because it wouldn’t change anything. Instead, he bowed his head to accept the punishment, trying hard to keep his tail steady in the process. Derrick must have noticed by the grin Sterling saw when he snuck a glance. “Let’s head to the living room for this. Bitch, finish the dishes.” Sterling followed the orca with his head held high, imagining a taut leash connecting them. Their living room was sparse with a single leather couch that was for guests only and one recliner. Beside that emerald green recliner were two feral dog beds, one for Bitch, one for Sterling. Sterling had to ask for his, receiving it as a birthday present when Derrick finally gave in. “You can still sit on the couch,” the orca told him since he wasn’t a slave in the household. He never did, preferring to kneel beside the orca and opposite his father. Derrick patted his lap as he sat down. Sterling, trying not to smile but failing to keep his tail still, climbed up over the bottomless orca. His stomach quivered as it pressed against the flaccid fat cock of his father’s master. His breath shortened as the strong orca’s palm gently braced his backside, the anticipation damning. “Do you know why you’re being punished?” Derrick said and would always say before starting. Sterling nodded. “Because I made a mess, Sir.” The first lesson he learned as a submissive was to be observant. Making a mistake didn’t matter unless one knew why they made a mistake. How else could they learn to not do it again? Though in his defense, Derrick sometimes punished Bitch for no real reason as part of their play. A soft reminder of who was in charge, as if either of them needed it. “What kind of mess?” “A,” Sterling gulped, he hated this part. “A wet mess with my cunt.” Remnants of the morning and his caretaker’s affection in the kitchen. “That’s right. And we don’t like messes in this house, do we?” He asked. Sterling nodded. “Good. Count them out and tell me what you’ll do next time. We’ll do ten.” The first one came with a crack that echoed across the house. Its sharp sting sent endorphins rushing through his body. Sterling yipped, gathering himself as the heat of Sir’s imprint burned into his brain. “One! I won’t get wet at the table!” Each spank came with that same declaration and a new number. By the third, he was wet again. By the fifth, he felt Derrick’s cock grow against his stomach. By the ninth he wanted to feel it inside him, forgetting the girth was too much for his cunt. At the tenth, with his ass burning, Sterling added, “Thank you, Sir!” to his declaration. “Good boy,” Derrick’s affirmation turned the burning heat fuzzy in the puppy’s chest. “Now get up, I gotta get to work.” His sizable erection made it clear to Sterling that the orca had something else to do first. The grunts he heard from his parent’s bedroom confirmed it. He enjoyed himself back behind his room, eyes closed with dreams of being at the beck and call of his own dominant. After Derrick left with a kiss goodbye to Bitch and a ruffling of headfur for Sterling, the two doberman’s went their separate ways. Saturday mornings weren’t open for much. Bitch had his own chores to do, and while Sterling did as well his weren’t as immediate. He helped Bitch with cleaning and vacuuming, but his father often let his kid be a kid. “Can we go for a walk?” Sterling asked. His father eyed the clock. “Hmm…I suppose it would be good for us both.” “With the leash.” Sterling asked, his tail wagging feverishly. “Hmm…that’s more Derrick’s department.” Bitch pondered aloud, pausing at Sterling frowning. He sighed, “Well, I suppose I can hold it today. Let’s go.” Since Sir was the master of the house, he took it upon himself to treat Sterling as the boy requested. Bitch, despite having the permission to do the same, often found it too far above his place. Sterling didn’t care. He just loved the sensation of being led or pulled by the leash, his heart pounding with glee as he saw the metal hook dangle its way toward him. The summer air felt brisk against Sterling’s cunt as they walked down the sidewalk. Rosebud Heights had a strange dress code Bitch tended to bring up, still somehow bewildered despite living here since Sterling was born. No one in the district could wear anything from the waist below, with exceptions being made for chastity devices like the flat cage his father wore. Derrick rarely let his bitch free of it outside of regular cleaning days, and when he did Sterling noticed how small his father became thanks to the cage. Envious of it, Sterling asked Sir for something like it, citing how cool it’d be to have his pleasure in someone else’s hands. Derrick said no, explaining that he’d much rather Sterling find a partner to make that decision first. The local park was a wide grass square with few trees dotting the center. Bitch unclipped Sterling’s collar when they arrived. “I’m going to be sitting over there,” he pointed to a nearby bench, “Don’t stay out of my sight, ok?” “Ok.” His dad grabbed his collar right as he turned. “And Sterling, don’t get into trouble.” “I don’t get into trouble.” His smirk was met with a stare that saw right through him. “Ok, I get into a little trouble. But I won’t today, I promise.” The older doberman seemed to accept that, though the soft sigh under his breath had Sterling wondering if he just gave up. In the pup’s defense, he never went out seeking trouble. Sometimes he just found people who assumed his liking to take orders meant they could step on him like a welcome mat. In a sense, he wouldn’t mind being stepped on but he appreciated those who cared to command rather than those expecting someone to follow. Worse when they thought his submission was an extension to be cruel to his friends or family. Those people got punched. A group of three kids were huddled under the shadow of a playground, one built like a castle of wood with wood chips and rubber covering the space. They were all boys, one fox, one otter, and one lynx. The fox eyed Sterling with suspicion as he went to say hello. “Hi, what’re you all doing?” he asked. “What’s it look like?” The fox snickered. “It looks like you’re just under the castle plotting. Oh, is there a king or something to be overthrown?” Sterling did enjoy playing pretend sometimes. Not when his caretakers did it. Their roleplaying sessions were cringe. One of the boys, the otter, squinted and reached for his own neck. “Wait, haven’t I seen you before?” “Hey, yeah,” the fox pointed at him, “You’re the kid with the orca dad.” “I thought the orca had a son?” The otter asked, only to get smacked by the lynx. “Ow! What did I do?” “He’s a he. Just because he’s got a cunt doesn’t mean he’s a girl.” The lynx’s voice was higher than Sterling expected. As if reading his conclusion, the lynx shook their head, “And just because I like boy clothes doesn’t mean I’m a guy. Get it?” “Loud and clear,” Sterling hopped down to the trio, “My name's Sterling. Yours?” “Jeb,” said the fox. “Ron,” said the otter. “Bailey,” said the Lynx, brushing her headfur back just enough to cover one eye, “But my friends call me Blaze. And no, you can’t call me that. Not yet anyway,” she ended with a coy smile that Sterling found fit her face too well. “So what’s with the collar?” Jeb asked, “You’re family into one of those weird alternative lifestyles?” Sterling tilted his head at the question, “I mean, it’s different than when my dad and mom were married, but it’s not weird. Dad likes being Sir’s slave.” “Sir?” The otter blinked, “No way, someone owns the orca? Gotta be an elephant or something, right?” Jeb kicked the otter’s shine, ignoring the following yelp, “Bigger doesn’t mean top, dude. Though whoever doms that orca is probably annoyed that he’s cheating on them.” Bailey rushed to shush the fox, stopping when Sterling laughed. “What? No, Derrick is my dad’s master. Not mine, despite the collar. Though he is helping me be more submissive.” “Be more submissive?” Bailey asked. “Your dad’s master?” Ron asked. Sterling nodded to both, “Wait, then who’s your dad?” Leading them out from the playground, Sterling waved over to his father. The Doberman in a tight and hot pink crop top waved back, his collar shaking. Ron, to Sterlings' confusion, snickered, “Jeez, no wonder my mom’s fucking your master.” “He’s not my master. Sir is more of a…trainer.” “Did he train your dad to be a bitch?” Jeb asked. “That’s what we call him.” Sterling nodded. The trio varied in their laughter, with Bailey the only one trying to hold herself. “What? My dad likes it.” “I’ll bet he does.” The fox thrust his hips, “I bet he watches while your master goes to town.” “Trainer, and yeah. He cleans up after too.” Now all three couldn’t contain their laughter, with the otter rolling around like a maniac. Sterling’s ears dropped. Both his caretakers seemed happy with their lives. He couldn’t find what was so funny. “How can he even call himself a guy? Might as well get rid of his balls, and mount them.” Jeb said. “Why not give them to Sterling?” Bailey patted his shoulder. Something about how she grabbed him felt uncomfortable. It was possessive and he loved that, but something felt off. “He’d find a better use for them.” “If he’s anything like Butch then better without them. More holes. Speaking of,” Ron started pumping his flaccid cock, “Think Bitch wouldn’t mind watching his son get fucked? Or maybe we should go over there and tell him to suck us off? Fort has space for him.” No one but Derrick could order his dad. “Drop it.” Sterling brushed the lynx’s hand away. “My dad belongs to Sir, not you. You don’t get to make fun of him.” “Don’t get to?” Ron asked, his face harder than his cock. Bailey tried to step between them but he pushed her aside, “Oh, I see. You’re thinking we’re serious.” “You’re not?” “It’s a guy thing, Sterling. We like to mess around. Course if you were happy to follow orders and suck me off, I wouldn’t say no. I’d probably call you a bitch like your dear old daddy,” he kept pumping his cock, face red as he continued, “Cause that’s what you both are. Bitches. Not men. B. I. T-“ Sterling’s fist didn’t let Ron finish. He didn’t notice how the otter’s teeth scraped his knuckles until pulling away. The boy took two steps back on the impact, too bewildered at Sterling to stop the next punch. He punched back on the third, square against the doberman’s chest. Voices blurred after that. Someone, probably Bailey, tried to step in but Ron pulled Sterling to the ground by his collar. In response Sterling jabbed his elbow into the boy’s side, growling with his wild punches. A sudden knee to his groin paralyzed Sterling long enough for Ron to push him off. “Don’t pretend you actually have balls, bitch.” The otter snarled at the edge of tears. Sterling bared his teeth, preparing to sink them when he next got the chance. “Sterling!” His father shouted. A soft-spoken man, his dad hadn’t once raised his voice or deepened his tone since accepting his master’s collar. The low pitch of the older doberman’s outburst sent electricity down his spine, like a drill sergeant ready to break someone in on their first day. The momentary panic gave Ron all he needed to land a swift punch at Sterling’s stomach. The boy ran away as Sterling fell to the grass, his two friends following close behind while the older doberman’s shadow encompassed him. “Are you alright?” Delicate hands pulled Sterling up, sheepishly brushing off grass and dirt before checking for brushes. “Is anything blurry? How many fingers am I holding up?” “Dad, I’m fine,” Sterling pulled away, “And it’s two.” “Oh, good.” Theo, Sterling’s dad, exhaled so hard that he held his chest tight. After a pause, his brow furrowed. “What was that? Don’t tell me you had a good reason for throwing the first punch, mister, because there is never a good reason to start a fight.” “They were…” He turned away with a bit lip, grinding his foot against the dirt. “It’s nothing, dad. Let’s just go home.” Theo yanked the leash out of Sterling’s reach. “No. Not until you tell me everything, young man.” “It’s nothing. They were just…just making fun of you. It’s bad enough that Sir’s lady friends say rude things to you when he’s having fun with them. Sir says you like it. But they were just being…being mean.” The blush across his father’s face was unexpected. The scowl remained, now with an added raised brow, “I don’t need you to defend me, Sterling. I am happy with my standing with him, else I wouldn’t wear this collar. But there’s something else and we’re not leaving until you tell me. Derrick’s been itching to take out his camping gear anyway.” Defending his father was one thing. It was noble, brave, and manly. Derrick told him that manly men didn’t need to prove they were manly, but Sterling wanted to prove it. To admit he wasn’t hurt too much. But the more he gave it a voice, the more his voice cracked. It took several deep breaths before he came clean, “They didn’t think I was a guy. I hated them making fun of you but when they said that I just…” Both hands clasped his shoulder, “Sterling, I know it’s hard not to let others get to you. It’s why your mother walked all over me. But you have nothing to prove to anyone about who you are. Your only goal is to be happy in your own fur. Just as it’s my job to help you do that.” Tears pooled as his throat tightened. Sterling looked away, trying to swallow his feelings. “I…I know, but,” His father hugged him tight. “Son, I’m proud that you want to stand up for me. I’m not sure you understand how validated I am knowing that I can be myself around both you and Derrick. But that’s no excuse to throw punches. As much as I hate gendered language, men should fight with words, not fists.” The leash clipped over Sterling’s D-ring, “So, as a punishment, I’m going to put you in a time-out when we get back, and you’ll stay there until master comes home.” His father’s smile told Sterling that the punishment was more than just that. Ideas bounced in his tiny head on the walk back, but none met reality when they arrived. Leash taut, Theo led his son to the master bedroom and told him to strip. Sifting through their drawers the doberman twink pulled out a ballgag so thick Sterling’s mouth clenched at the sight of it, and a pair of pink leather cuffs. Derrick’s favorite for the older doberman. The puppy’s tail became a blur as the red ballgag locked around his maw. A solid rubber ball that stretched his maw so wide he could utter nothing coherent. Next, his arms were locked behind his back, with another pair of cuffs linking his elbows together. The regular yoga stretches they did together allowed him to enjoy nothing but the sweet restraint holding him together. If that were all to his punishment then Sterling would be the happiest punished pup in all of Highman. To his surprise, there was more, revealed behind the closet door. A silver stand with four legs stood just under Sterling’s waist, tipped with a shiny bulbous head soon slathered in lube. Slick hands prodded his backdoor before lifting Sterling up. “Take a deep breath. Through your nose now.” His father’s suggestions fell on deaf ears once the tip braced his bum. Sterling had played with his butt before. He may have lacked a p-spot, but anal still had a place when it came to serving others. It felt good, though his requests for toys were denied on account of both parents wanting to wait. So the penetration was foreign to him. A new sensation that better filled him up without any fear of pulling out at the last second. Truly and utterly out of his control. From his gag tiny drops of drool fell from his lips, forming a puddle of that mixed with his leaking arousal. The bar up his ass was tall enough to keep him at the flat of his feet and not short enough to raise his legs off, making the puppy completely immobile without the need for restraints. Knowing his son loved them, Theo looped a rope through the clinching elbows and tied it to the ceiling. So he wouldn't fall. “Comfy?” His father asked. At his nod, the doberman continued, “Good. Now you’re gonna stay here until Derrick gets home, and we’ll have a long discussion about when it’s ok to use your fists versus your words. Try not to enjoy yourself too much, this is a punishment.” He closed the door, leaving Sterling lost in shadow broken by the lights slipping through the wooden blinds. Bondage, if done right, could bring a meditative state to a person. Sterling’s first real experience being bound was with a pair of toy handcuffs he’d use to lock his arms behind something. While the filled feeling of his ass added a new sensation, the doberman pup had no trouble reaching that state and letting his mind wander. The creak of his pole became footsteps of his would-be dominant pacing around out of view. A master or mistress, Sterling let it shift in his fantasies as the figure commanded the pup with as much glee as he took to orders. His teeth clenched at the thought of following every demand, then displayed for others before rewarded with their owner’s taste. Wet arousal dripped down his legs at the scenario. Somewhere in this, where Sterling faded in and out as his tight nipples tensed into the open air, he heard the garage door open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, soon accompanied by soft hurried steps and muffled conversations. The bedroom door slammed open. “S-Sir, I need to tell you something,” Excitement clung to his tone despite his father’s concern. Through the blinds, Sterling saw Theo directed to his knees by a single thick finger around his collar, face inches before the trapped titan that was Derrick’s rod. “Later, Bitch,” the orca said lovingly, “You have no idea how much I thought about you.” Theo, or Bitch, coyly tilted his head as he undid his master’s belt, “I doubt that, Sir.” “Getting smart?” Derrick snickered, hand tight across his slave-husband’s head as his cock slipped out. Even flaccid, its girth shook Sterling. “Can’t have that. Your mouth’s only good for pleasing.” “Are you saying you don’t like my quips, Sir?” Theo yelped breathlessly at his master’s tug. A masochistic smile crossed his face, “I’m sorry, my praises, Sir.” “Oh I do, but only between us. If I had the budget for a secretary, I’d keep you on so long as you stayed gagged. Better to show you off.” The doberman’s mouth was too busy with the shaft pulled from his master’s suit pants. Too impatient to undress him, he brushed his snout underneath the latter piercing, sniffing deep. Sterling imagined what he smelled that morning. His teeth clenched in envy as his father took the thick rod into his maw. He pulled back half for every inch down, his free hands pumping the shaft as he effortlessly took his master. “Oh fuck…that’s it.” The orca shuddered, sinking to the bed as his slave’s tongue did what it was meant for. “Ok, might have to scratch the secretary idea. There’s no way I could get any work done with a mouth like this just outside my office.” Giggling with a throatful of cock, Bitch’s wet nose braced the orca’s crotch. Slow and carefully he backed off until the last inch where he yanked himself quickly enough to send saliva and pre into the air. The full erection stood over him, twitching. This went on for minutes or what Sterling could guess without a clock. Derrick, for his size, moved quickly. Sterling swore he didn’t blink but somehow missed the orca sweeping around and pushing his father over the bed. The older doberman’s toned bum invitingly shook, the perfect target for the following crack of Derrick’s spank. Sterling’s filled ass twitched in envy. “It’s a toss-up between which of your holes I love more.” Derrick pulled at a thick jeweled plug. He knew his father wore one, but seeing it pulled out was a wonder to behold as the doberman’s ass widened. Head back, lips bitten, Bitch gasped deep with the sudden pop of his plug. Derrick pressed his cock into it, sinking in with little fanfare. Together they shook the bed. Back and forth the two pressed into each other. Derrick took his slave for everything, and Theo howled like his namesake. It sounded different from the muffled cries of guests Sterling heard behind closed doors. Derrick enjoyed those, and the ladies did too. But his bitch? He fucked him hard, deep, or soft when he begged for it, turning that cage into a musical instrument with the clacking lock. Sterling groaned. He wanted what they had. Pushing to his toe tips he tried to fuck himself only to fail and leave his arousal unchecked. Teeth gnawed into the gag with his flustered growls as frustrated tears built up. The door opened, shining light into the room only for Derrick’s frame to overshadow it. His hulking silhouette still sporting his raging cock. Sterling lost the ability to breathe for one moment, forgetting everything at the sight of someone in control. The orca did not. “Sterling? What are…Bitch, did you put Sterling in time-out?” “As I was trying to tell you as you rushed through the door, Sterling got into a fight,” Theo said, lazily rolling over. The light caught a glimmer of pre seeping from his flathead cage. “But you were so caught up in everything I figured he could wait and enjoy the show.” For his part, Derrick cracked a grin before sighing. “I can’t have two cucks in this house. Well, I could but Sterling should discover his own kinks.” Thick fingers lifted Sterling from the prison and undid his bindings, leaving the pup free to serve. “Can you give us a bit? I wanna have a talk with you about this fight but I need to finish here first.” Sterling, nodding, bolted out the door with his jaw still clenched by the gag. He needed something to gnaw on for the next half hour of pleasing himself. Or more, given how long his dad’s could last. An hour passed before Derrick entered. Sterling still wore the ballgag, letting it dangle around his throat so his jaw could relax. “So…you got in a fight?” The orca asked, reaching for pockets that weren’t there. Sterling nodded, ears flat despite it all. Derrick sitting down next to him confirmed that this wouldn’t be the fun kind of punishment. “You know, a part of me wants to ask if you won,” Derrick held his hand out before Sterling could answer, “But that’s not behavior I should be encouraging. Your father did tell me why you did it though, and for that I am proud.” It didn’t lessen the pain. Sterling hunched over and huffed. “What should I have done, sir? Just let them make fun of him?” The orca’s heavy hand rested on the pup’s back. “Sterling, when I was a young man, back before I knew I liked men like your father, I often had fantasies of guys saying bad things about the women I dated. Nasty things that deserved a good knuckle sandwich. I thought this because deep down I wanted to be their hero. Their savior. Then it happened. It was way before I met your father. This girl I’d been seeing on the side had a bad time with a heckler and I sent him to the hospital. I expected to be lauded as a hero. Instead, she saw me as some sort of brute.” Sterling noticed the veins popping in the orca’s hands as they gripped each other. He sighed and continued, “When the situation came up again, this time with another woman, I tried something different. I got us out of that situation and made sure she was ok. She took to me a lot better, and through her, I met the sweetest man possible. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” “Not really.” Sterling wanted to but at the same time didn’t want to be judged for his mistake. “If someone’s making fun of someone you care about and you can't resolve the situation peacefully, you leave with your loved one in tow. It shows you care more about their wellbeing.” “But I–” “I know you do, but fistfights only cause more problems. Those boys aren’t going to forget this.” The gag fell free into the orca’s waiting hand, still slick with saliva that he whipped away. “Now, obviously you should be punished. So you’ll spend another night in the underbed cage, and no dessert for the week.” “No dessert?!” Sterling almost begged Derrick to reconsider only for the focused gaze to tell him that wasn’t going to happen. At least he got cage time, so he knew Sir was rewarding him in some backward way. “Ok, I understand.” “Good.” Derrick smiled, “Now, why don’t we go and have dinner? Bitch is cooking fritas.” Sterling did love fritas.