The mud squished wetly between Arnulf’s toes, and the splintered wood bit into his paw-pads with each staggering step he was forced to take. If he stalled for even a moment to catch his breath, an insistent yank on the chain attached to the thick iron collar around his throat would send him sprawling to the ground in a heap. The wolf had been stripped to his onyx pelt. The rodents hadn’t even allowed him his boots as he was paraded through the streets that were strewn with the remnant wreckage of the recent clash. The only stitch of clothing the lupine wore was the threadbare linen bandage wrapped across his once beautiful eyes. His ears folded back in embarrassment over his failure, and he kept his pointed muzzle downcast. Arnulf had been defeated, wounded, and utterly humiliated...and the wolf’s captors were not through with him yet.

He could do nothing but dread what was to come next. 

He couldn’t see. The jailor’s fiery brand across his eyes assured that he’d be completely blind for the rest of his life. The last thing he ever witnessed before his injury was his ragtag army’s abject failure followed by the intense glow of smoldering cinders. He could barely walk. Not only was he exhausted from the battle and deprived of food and water for the following day, but a steel apparatus had been affixed around his sheath and its weighty pull on his genitals made his gait awkward and unbalanced. It was held secure by a heavy lock in front and a metal ring behind his sac. After ensuring it was inescapable, the jailor had hurled the key from the tower window, where it was lost between the cobbles of the courtyard below. A cage of unyielding bars now permanently restrained his maleness. They would prevent any erection- not that he could find any arousal at present- but his morning wood straining against the device at dawn brought him an unbearable ache that he wasn’t looking forward to growing used to. 

Prior to his march of shame, the wardens in the dungeon presented the nude lupine with a canid cock carved of ash wood with a fat, fist-sized knot at its base. It had been whittled with such fine detail that the ridges of veins could be felt along its length. Though he couldn’t see it, he was intimately familiar with its form. They had him fondle it and laughed gleefully as his paws roamed over its girth. Amidst lewd, belittling remarks came a command to kneel and service it with his muzzle. The murines chittered with cruel glee as they watched him roll his tongue along it. Once it was slick and dripping with his own saliva, they positioned it beneath his tail and forced him onto it. The rodents laughed at his yelp and subsequent strained groan as the solid toy was buried within him.

Arnulf had never taken another male, let alone one with a knot. Someone with his slighter physique might normally have been passed around in military camps for the troops to enjoy, but his prestigious family ties had saved him from such a fate. Those titles were meaningless here. He snarled as his virgin pucker stretched to accommodate the poorly-lubricated wooden phallus. The bulb did its job and popped past his abused ring, lodging into him. Condescendingly, the mice had scratched behind his large, knife-like ears while calling him a “good little pup” as he sat on the faux cock trembling with fear, impotent rage, and indignity. His cheeks and ears were blazing like the surface of the sun.

He had always been ashamed of his modest size. He was a wolf with sleek, smoky fur the color of the midnight sky, except for a golden tuft on his breast reminiscent of splayed wings. His species was usually large, muscular, and imposing. Unfortunately for Arnulf, he was the runt of the litter, with a half dozen siblings who were half again his size and strength. Where his brothers and sisters had raw power, he had speed. The lupine had a sinewy runner’s body, but was always disrespected for his lack of physical bulk. Still, what he lacked in size he made up for with tenacity. Despite the fact that there were few better sword fighters than him when it came to technique, even the skillful wolf could only do so much when outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

As he sightlessly stumbled behind his captors he did his best to ignore the jeers from all sides. Cries of: “I thought wolves were supposed to be larger than mice!” and “Know your place, mutt!” were commonplace.

The entire city must’ve turned out to hurl insults and watch the would-be rebellion’s leader be publicly shamed. The air still smelled of singed fur and ash, and the copper tinge of blood. Their ire was as fresh as his. He expected little leniency from them. The lupine soldier kept his tail tucked down over the carved toy. He didn’t want any of the mass of faceless, nameless tormentors heckling him as he toddled behind his captor to know what was inside of him. The warrior doubted he would be killed. The rodent nation wouldn’t go through the trouble of blinding and sexually humiliating him only to have him hanged or beheaded. Whatever was to come, it was intended he survive it.

Arnulf, headstrong noble of a wolf-majority city-state under mouse occupation decided to stake his honor on warring for independence. Many anthros had died. He had failed. Now he had to suffer the punishment. He wanted to do so as stoically as possible to not give Lord Halbert, the rodent king with his resplendent white coat, the pleasure of seeing him break. He wondered if His Highness’ crimson eyes watched him even now, tail lashing indulgently.

They reached the town center, and the wolf was brought to a sturdy post taller than he by several feet erected on a low wooden stage. His paws, which had been tied behind his back, were momentarily freed to be wrapped around the wood where they were tied together again at the wrists with a length of hempen rope. His top half was guided downward on the post and his haunches forced backward until he was bent fully at the waist. The chain on the collar was left to dangle for the time being, and scraped noisily against the floor. A pair of hefty shackles were quickly snapped around his ankles. An iron bar was wedged between them, making him splay his legs wide. He couldn’t move in any meaningful way. The pole supported his weight as he leaned against it, which made him unintentionally prominently display his backside. The tip of his tail was tied to his collar. The tugging sensation was painful and prevented him from covering the base of the dildo hilted in his cleft.

A hush fell over the crowd. He heard the telltale click-clack of clawtips stepping across the wooden dais. It was a singular set of paws, but the lupine had no way of telling how many mice were already standing on the platform. 

“Hmm...which to choose? So much pressure to be thorough and provide catharsis for the populace when delivering a beating,” a voice drawled from behind him. Arnulf recognized that wicked tone. Halbert, the mouse ruler himself, came to take part in the punishment. The wolf could imagine his hairless paws delicately fingering the handles of various implements on a rack as he made his decision. “Whips? Flogs? No- A paddle, I think. But which? Something flexible, supple, like cedar? Or maybe something with strength and durability, like cherry. Not that I have to stop with just one.” The rodent chuckled snidely. “All things considered, I think the walnut paddle feels appropriate.”

He made a practice swing near his prisoner’s tail. The weapon was fluted and whistled as it swept through the air. Arnulf felt the ripple of wind as it passed and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to give the rodent the satisfaction of his pain.

The first thwack! arrived without further warning. As strange as it was, Arnulf heard it before he felt it. A heartbeat after the crack of contact he experienced the violent sting blossom across his rump, followed by a lingering numbness in the aftermath of the strike. He grit his teeth and sucked in his breath, determined not to whimper or growl. Another attack came in, just as harsh as the first. The wave of pain was intense. His legs were weak and shaking. He fought the urge to let his knees buckle, but somehow managed to remain composed.

“Don’t worry, pup,” the rodent lord hissed. “I doubt I will have any trouble breaking you in time. You might as well give into my will now, and be my obedient dog.”

Halbert groped the firm globe of the wolf’s smarting buttocks. The murine’s claws glided across the sensitized flesh almost seductively. He ceased and without warning struck three more times in rapid succession, each rougher than the last. Arnulf’s whole body quaked. He felt his bandage grow damp with the tears he fought back. He knew he was close to his breaking point after only five impacts, and squirmed on the stage.

Much like his ill-fated rebellion, failure was going to be inevitable and swift. He longed for a blade to fight back. Longed to die in battle. But neither were in his stars

The next smack finally made him unleash a throaty whine that erupted into a full moan when it was followed with another blow. Not only did heat and pain continually bloom across his backside, but each tensing of his body from the assault made him clamp down agonizingly around the toy buried inside of him.

“That’s more like it!” The mouse exclaimed with glee. He reeled back and began unleashing a flurry of strikes until the wolf’s ass throbbed painfully and his legs shook with effort to keep him upright. He grunted and groaned his way through the pain, doing his best to not reveal the full extent of the turmoil he was in to the gathered crowd. There came a pause in the paddling, and Arnulf dared to pant and relax his muscles a bit. His head hung limp against the post. The wood, which had felt so warm from the heat of nearby braziers, now felt chill against his flush face. 

“Don’t think we are even close to done, pup. This is a mere taste of what is in store for your future”.

What came next the rebel couldn’t possibly have prepared for. The paddle, instead of colliding with his rump like the previous strikes, instead slapped up between his thighs and into his testicles. Pain wrenched through his sac and up into his gut. For the first time, he screamed. He gasped and coughed and sputtered after the initial surge of agony washed over him.

Halbert started to lightly bounce his balls on the end of the paddle, silently threatening another severe blow against his tender orbs. They only moved inches with each smack, but every impact made him grunt and huff. The rodent laced in random, harder smacks during the steady assault. Each sent a fresh wave of pain coursing through the warrior. Finally, he had hit his breaking point.

“Please,” he puffed between whines. “No more. Just kill me now! Make it quick. I submit.”

“If only I’d let you off so easily, eh? I do not wish for your death, only your suffering and for you to understand your place. You will learn proper respect in time. For now, consider me a merciful lord for not having them removed entirely. I think I am entitled to treat them as I wish.”

He cracked his captive’s testicles harder than ever before, and his prisoner yelped through the pain.

“You will beg for death hundreds of times over before I am ever finished indulging in the pleasures you have to offer. Guards, shut him up! His persistent whimpering, enjoyable as it is, is most distracting.”

Some unseen mice grabbed his muzzle and pried it open in order to shove in a metal ring between his teeth. The gag was attached to a strap that was fastened behind his skull.

Halbert resumed his punishment, going back and forth between paddling the wolf’s balls and ass. Arnulf hollered and whined, and tried to beg, but all of his muffled cries fell on deaf ears. The mouse lord’s chest was heaving from exertion by the time he had finished. Drool dripping from the ring-gag in the defeated soldier’s maw.

“We are far from finished,” the murid sneered.

The king moved to the front of him, and stood proudly with his groin near the lupine’s snout. Arnulf heard shuffling and the rustling of clothing, followed by the specific, heady whiff of sweat and pheromones from the mouse’s groin. Nudity and sexuality was not frowned upon in rodent society, and a show of virility and dominance would surely play well to the crowd. Halbert, naked as his hostage, spread his paws and spun for all those assembled to gaze upon him. They cheered at his long, tapered hardness and hefty balls, both of which stood out fleshy pink against his snowy coat. It was clear that he enjoyed subjecting his defeated foe to such an event on a sensual level. Confident that his attempted usurper had been bested and brought to heel, he pressed his hips forward and ground his plump sheath against the wolf’s muzzle. Arnulf could feel the heat of his loins, and smell the tang of his sweat and precum.

Halbert wrapped his claws around the base of his sheath and angled the tip at the soldier’s face. His arousal softened just enough for what followed. With a satisfied sigh, he released his bladder. The potent scent of his piss struck at the same time as the damp spray splashed against his cheek. The rodent rocked back and forth, letting his golden arc cascade all over the prisoner’s face. The torrent ran into his open mouth and sloshed across his tongue. He winced at the acrid taste and did his best not to swallow. Arnulf subtly tried to shift away, but his torturer sensed his reluctance. The mouse sternly grabbed his chin with one paw. He forced the tip of his shaft into the wide gap in the ring and relieved himself directly into the wolf’s gullet, forcing him to sputter and swallow.

“That’s right. Drink a true lord’s piss. And be grateful for the opportunity,” he commanded.

The flow steadily diminished to a trickle then stopped entirely. Halbert milked his length and shook the last droplets of urine from his penis, letting them pepper the imprisoned lupine. He wiped the tip dry on Arnulf’s damp cheek.

“Thank me for allowing you a bellyful of my piss,” he demanded, momentarily the loosening the gag.

The wolf worked his sore jaw, scowling, but said nothing.

“Do it or I'll put your balls in a vice!” Halbert hissed in an icy tone.

“Thank you for letting me drink your piss, my lord,” he muttered, nostrils flaring and lip trembling. He fought the overwhelming urge to bare his fangs.

“What was that, runt?” The mouse inquired, his round ear theatrically twitching as he played to the crowd.

Hesitantly, Arnulf repeated himself louder.

“My fair and honorable citizens- if any of you wish to step forward and show this vile cur his rightful place, I encourage you to do so,” King Halbert announced, while one of his soldier’s refastened the gag.

Several mice volunteered and came forth. Arnulf could sense the ring of rodents surrounding him as they laughed and made gibes at his expense. The overwhelming aroma of arousal and aggression was palpable while they unlaced their trousers and disrobed. One grabbed the base of his tail and yanked it upward even worse than it already was, causing him to whimper and revealing the toy obviously hilted in his tight heat. The mouse twisted the base of it and elicited a series of groans from the captive. Another panted and huffed, as he pleasured himself by the wolf’s face, pelting him with spurts of pre. The slick slapping of his palm and his sudden tensing gave the prisoner all of a few second’s warning before pearlescent strands of spunk splattered against the side of his face.

The remaining mice all chose to relieve themselves, standing in a half circle around where he was bent against the post. Multiple streams of pungent piss soaked his fur from a deep gray to a glossy black. Enough urine was splashed upon him that a puddle of rapidly cooling pee around his sore foot-paws.

Arnulf was groped from all angles. Paws smacked his smarting ass and squeezed his bruised testicles. The rodents flicked the cock cage and tugged on the lock to ensure that it was thoroughly secure. The mouse who had cum on his collected what dribbled from his spent length on his claws and thrust them into Arnulf’s mouth through his gag, forcing him to lick the offending digits clean and swallow the remnants of the load.

A different murine officer, a magistrate of some sort it seemed, began to read an official proclamation. It took the wolf a short while to focus on it well enough to comprehend, since one of his harassers found joy in twisting the base of the wooden dildo in his stretched hole.

“-in light of such treason, a rebel such as this would be put to a slow and painful death. But High Lord Halbert, in his great wisdom, has offered mercy and granted leniency. The wolf shall be indentured to His Majesty’s service for the remainder of his natural life. Any of his fellows left alive shall meet a similar fate, divided evenly amongst the noble houses who have lost sons and daughters to this battle or suffered grievous damage to their…”

A life of beatings and degradation. Of being used and humiliated for the sexual gratification of his enemies. Was this all his actions had wrought?

Halbert, pleased with himself and the events of the day, sauntered back to his charge and whispered cruelly in his ear.

“I think I know the perfect place for you. You can reside in the guardhouse of my estate, perhaps chained in the privies. Let the soldiers mark you. Let them use you as they see fit on their breaks. Perhaps that’ll be feeding you a steady diet of piss and seed, or perhaps that will be taking out some aggression after a long shift. I am sure I am not the only mouse who enjoys a paddle in his paw, or some nuts to crack. We’ll see how long it is before you drip pre from your cage like a needy whelp. Submissive dogs like you always enjoy themselves in the end. Perhaps, if you are particularly well behaved, we will even let you scrabble over around the courtyard and watch you futilely try to find the key. You might even earn yourself a place in my bed. Yes, pet. I think I definitely have plans for you. From now on you can call me ‘Master’ unless you relish the idea of being neutered. Is that understood?”

“...yes, Master.”