﻿Like a fishhook, his master’s conditioning dug deep into Rocky’s brain. He could tell by how he referred to the mouse as his master even in private thoughts. Given the lack of a clock and all his failed methods of telling time, Rocky couldn’t be sure if he’d been through sessions with his master every day or every hour. What resilience he had slowly cracked, exposing every part of him. The mouse took it ravenously. 


It came with benefits. Rocky returned to the cell he first awoke in, now with a softer mattress, a pillow, and fewer bindings. Apart from his master’s new gold-colored cage locked around his cock and the leather collar, the hyena was free to move about as he wished. He chose to sit with his back against the wall, mind numb to the monotony of waiting for the next session. To pass the time he’d play with the new piercings his master gave him. Gold nipple rings, a matching nose ring, and even the Prince Albert piercing the locked his cage on. Were it not for his surroundings he’d feel like some prized harem slave.


He was at least the latter.


The worst part of the waiting was the desire. The hyena was no stranger to rough play. He craved it. There were limits in scenes, though, that gave him a semblance of control he’d grow bored with. As much as he hated to admit it, his master’s tactics were exciting. Terrifying and robbing him of any autonomy, but exhilarating. They either left him drained or wanting. Were it not for his master’s order, and the hidden camera he’d yet to find but knew existed, Rocky would finger his asshole now to finish himself off from the last session. 


His ears perked up at footsteps down the hall. Instinctively Rocky rested his knees over the hard stone floor. With his back straight, chest out, and hands on his thighs, the hyena waited, his heartbeat racing as the footsteps closed the distance. 


Lights flicked on. He did not blink. Rocky steadied his breath as the mouse’s shadow etched over the walls. The mouse appeared with a smile. He’d dressed differently from what Rocky had seen. No more leather jockstrap and gloves to match his boots. Now he covered himself in a pair of jeans and a tight gray shirt. The cell door clang sent goosebumps under the hyena’s fur, followed by the booted feet entering his tiny cell. With his master inside, the hyena couldn’t lay down flat. It mattered little as he bowed face forward, kissing the rodent’s black boot with reverence. 


“Good boy,” his master said with pride. Not malice or sadism, pride. 


Rocky knew it was pride in the mouse’s efforts, but it didn’t stop a warm sense of satisfaction from pooling in his chest. His body craved his master’s praise. His mind just refused to admit it. 


A leather bag fell to the mouse’s left. “I have a few gifts for you today. But first, why don’t we have a little fun.” 


Involuntarily the hyena licked his lips. He blamed it on a side effect of the aphrodisiacs, but deep down Rocky knew it’d been too long since he’d been dosed. His cock pressed against the nubby spikes of his cage at the mere sound of his master’s zipper unfurling. Fishing his cock out, the mouse let it stand out in the open while his pet struggled not to pounce on it. Its smell intoxicated the hyena when his master laid it over his snout. His breaths came out as whimpers, whines for the treat. 


“Please me.” The mouse’s command thrummed through Rocky like a drumbeat. He restrained himself from devouring the entire thing, starting slow with tentative licks across the shaft’s length. He knew the mouse’s weak spots by heart, giving attention to his sack before slipping the cockhead past his lips. He gazed up to his master with every inch down as he’d been trained. Soon his head bounced from base to tip, coating the entire length in spit as he tasted it all along his tongue. 


His master savored him. He could easily pin his head to the wall and fuck him like the hole he’d become. Rocky wished he did, it’d mean he could take away his responsibility to please the mouse. Instead, he let the hyena work, and let Rocky put in the effort until his seed painted the yeen’s tongue white. 


“Good boy.” His master’s praise continued to fill him with unwanted joy. At his command, Rocky stood tall and held out his hands. From the bag the mouse pulled out golden bands he locked around the hyena’s wrists and ankles, linking them together with a gold chain loose enough to let the hyena walk unhindered. A matching collar replaced his leather one, locking with a click. The cold metal weighed against his neck similar to how his cage felt between the legs at first. In time it would be unnoticeable. 


“These are pure gold.” Rocky understood the mouse’s words but stared at him with the assumption he misheard. His master nodded. “That’s right. You’ve been such a good pet that I wanted to get you something special. Now that I see them, I’m tempted to solder them closed. But that’s a thought for another day. Come.” He pulled him out with his finger looped through the D-ring.


The shock of what he was wearing occupied Rocky’s thoughts over what torment would come today. Pure gold? He’d never seen pure gold unless it was platted over something or a small amount. A poor estimate told him he had two bars of it locked over his body with the chains included. What kind of person has the income and preference to turn solid gold bricks into bondage gear? The hyena stopped thinking rhetorical questions when he noticed they’d passed any rooms he was trained in. He blinked in confusion, just realizing he hadn’t been blindfolded either. Then came the stairs leading upwards. 


“I figure it’s time I show you your new home. Or at least, what you could work towards if you keep behaving well.”


Rocky covered his eyes as sunlight poured in. He felt grass underneath his feet. Blinking to adjust, he noticed he’d just stepped out of a basement hatch into an open backyard. The urge to cover himself fell flat thanks to the short chains. The mouse chuckled and locked a longer leash around the hyena’s collar.


“Don’t worry, I have another entrance into the basement. This one is just more direct.” 


“What do you mean by that?” Rocky said without thinking, “Sir,” he added just a second later. 


“Oh, I’m sure you’ll see.” The mouse tugged him along the side of his house. The building had a flat roof and large pane windows for walls, giving it a modern feel of someone with too much money on their hands. Given his new bindings, Rocky figured he shouldn’t be surprised. But the view from the mountain estate dropped his jaw. From the endless expanse of trees to the right, to the small town off in the distance to the left.


“You haven’t even seen the inside yet,” His master pulled him in, “What’s wrong? Didn’t expect to see a town so close. Well, don’t worry. We’re far enough away that they can’t hop in on us accidentally. Good thing too, as I don’t expect you to be wearing much anyway.” 


Either the mouse forgot he lied about there being no one else around, or he didn’t care to rub Rocky’s nose in that fact. In either case, the hyena kept thinking about it throughout the little tour. From polished wood floors, expensive leather furniture, tasteful artwork depicting acts of bondage and servitude, and more, all Rocky thought about was his potential escape. 


“I used to hire a butler to take care of some things,” the mouse said, showing Rocky the small sauna in the backyard, “He’d keep my pool clean, polish the floors, etc. I think once you’re loyal enough I’ll give you those responsibilities. Can’t leave everything to a vacuum robot after all.”


“Would I get a uniform, sir?” Rocky asked, grinning as though he enjoyed the mouse’s talking points. “Maybe a bowtie and a jockstrap?”


His master laughed. “You’re in your uniform. I didn’t get you that set just to replace it with a slutty butler gown.” 


In the garage, the mouse went on about a personal mechanic of his helping keep his sports car running smoothly, but Rocky’s attention was locked onto the tools hanging on the wall. Hammers, crowbars, the kind of stuff that could break a soft metal with the right pressure. He’d just need time to do it. As for how he wasn’t quite sure. 


“Any questions?” The mouse asked as they retired to the living room.


“Where would I sleep, sir? I can’t imagine you intend to fish me from the dungeon every day if you expect me to keep the place clean.” 


The mouse nodded, “Too true, too true.” He led his prize to the master bedroom. Setting sunlight seeped through three windowed walls that gave the occupants a full view of the mountain range and the town below. So lost in the expanse that Rocky needed a quick tug to notice the feral dog pillow at the foot of the king-sized bed. “You’ll sleep here if not with me. Even with central heating the winters can get a bit chilly so I’d recommend you be on your best behavior.” 


Even this room carried signs of debauchery. D-rings were locked into the four bedposts, from one hung a loose chain and an open cuff. Rocky noticed a lube bottle prevented a drawer from shutting as if closed in haste. Sunlight glinted off something inside of it. He assumed they were cuffs, though he supposed he’d know soon enough as the mouse pushed him over the bed. 


“I’ve been waiting for the right time to enjoy your ass.” The mouse’s erection bounced as he took off his pants. “Sure I could have enjoyed it in the dungeon. But where was the romance in that? The passion? This is a much better venue, wouldn’t you agree?” 


Rocky winced as his cock pressed against the chastity cage’s nubs. “I don’t know. I’ve been fucked in worst places than your dungeon, master.” He slipped around and pulled his leg up for a sultry pose, “Yours wouldn’t even rank in the top five.”


“I’m touched.” His master climbed over the bed for a kiss. “But I prefer something nicer for a beauty such as you.”


His heartbeat thrummed. Hungry darted to the average erection between the mouse’s legs. Rocky left imprints of his nails deep into his palms, letting the pain bring his senses back. “A lovely gift. But maybe I should work for it?”


“I do love it when you work for it.” The mouse laughed softly, “What do you have in mind?”


“How about a massage?” He trailed fingertips across the androgynous mouse’s bicep, “Surely my master must be sore after dealing with me.”


“Less than you’d think. But it does sound nice. Very well.” His master moved to lay against his stomach. Rocky sprung. The gold chain between his wrists wrapped around the mouse’s throat like a garrote wire. He sat on the bastard’s back, knees holding the mouse’s arms down so he could strangle with impunity. 


Rocky never choked anyone before. He’d been strangled on camera but that had strict safety guidelines. He knew enough from safety instructors to find the right spot to set someone unconscious within ten seconds of pressure. By luck he found it. The mouse went limp. He scrambled off for the drawer, nearly fisting the air when he found a pair of manacles. Before the mouse regained consciousness he slapped the cuffs behind his back then looked for more bindings. Sure enough, Rocky found plenty in the closet, along with a thick leather hood. The mouse woke up midway through him slipping it over.


“You have ten seconds to release me if you want me to forgive you,” The mouse snarled. “You do not want to regret this.”


“I do not want to hear your voice.” Rocky found a big ballgag to solve that problem. With the mouse hogtied by straps and leashed to the bed, he headed to the garage. Taking a hammer and a flathead screwdriver, he went to work chipping away at the cold chains. By the time it broke, he decided not to attempt the same with his cuffs and collar. Better not to accidentally stab himself.


He tossed the shattered chains on the writhing mouse. If he hadn’t spent so much time under his thumb, Rocky might have bothered to taunt his ‘master’. A small voice in the back of his head, his sense of reason perhaps, told him not to delay his escape. 


The mouse’s wardrobe was in his size. None of it fit his tastes. It was all too clean, too proper, with collared shirts or casual tops, khakis, and jeans. The jockstraps and leather gear were more the hyena’s style, but he needed to blend in not stand out. At least there were jackets long enough to hide his cuffs. He found a hoodie to conceal the collar. For footwear, he settled on a pair of black boots the mouse once trampled him with. In his defense, they were to die for.


“So I found these keys on the kitchen counter. Are they for the sportscar?” The mouse refused to respond. Rocky grinned, forgetting his former captor couldn’t see him for the moment. “I figured they were, what with the keyfob and everything. Don’t worry, I’m sure help will arrive soon with more manacles to put you in a tight cell. Not as tight as mine, but they’re supposed to be more reasonable. Toodles, master.”


He’d have called the cops with the mouse’s phone but that required a face or paw print and Rocky would be damned to risk getting caught. Even with the bindings, he figured it wouldn’t be long for the mouse to get out. His footsteps ramped up to a slow run to the garage, followed by an anxious sprint that almost broke the door’s handle. 


Having been winging it the entire time, Rocky tried thinking of an actual plan when he hit the road. The police were obvious, but he wasn’t sure if cuff removal came first. They either strengthened his case or made him look like some gaudy roleplayer who decided to pull everyone into his game. Thinking about it, that didn’t make sense. He blamed the adrenaline rushing through his veins. 


The car stuttered to a stop just a mile out from the town. He’d been so preoccupied with getting out that the hyena failed to notice the car was on fumes. Thankfully, because fortune threw him a bone, there was a gas station in the distance. If the cashier was a guy, cash wouldn’t be an issue. 


His heart sank upon seeing the closed sign. It couldn’t have been late, the sun’s descent had just started. He pressed his face against the windows to see if anyone was inside. When he found no one the hyena considered grabbing a rock to break in and flip a switch. He assumed that was how cashiers activated the pumps from inside. 


Just as he went looking for rocks someone called out to him. “Can I help you?” He turned, finding a lemur in a mechanics jumpsuit with black-tipped hair like she’d dipped them in oil. She looked like she was cleaning her hands with an oil-slicked towel.


He smiled. “Yes!” Squinting, Rocky couldn’t find a nametag. Just a patch that read Renn like it was some sort of franchise. A quick glance up at a sign revealed that there was no sign at all. The gas station might have been more rundown than closed. 


“Annie.” 


“Huh?” 


She rolled her eyes, “The name’s Annie. What do you want?” 


“A pack of gum and a bottled water would be nice,” Rocky said with a smirk. “But what I really need is gas. My car gave out on me not too long ago. Do the pumps work?” 


Annie looked him square in the eye for so long he expected her to spit in some spitcan out of his vision. She peered over his shoulder, squinting. “The red one?”


“Wow, you have remarkable vision.” Rocky pointed back, exposing the golden cufflinks. “Yeah. I’m sure it takes premium but I’m willing to get regular if that’s all you have.” He clapped his hands together in a prayer, “I also can’t pay you. Lost my wallet. But I can promise I’ll pay you back when I get it.”


The long silence between answers put him on edge. He imagined the mouse he’d locked up running down the road to tackle him at any moment. Impossible given the restraints, but fear cared little for realism. 


“Aight.” She shrugged, “I can get you a can or two. Doubt those scrawny arms of yours could push it into town anyway.”


He sighed in relief. “Thank you, Annie. So much. Also, do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.” The lemur nudged her shoulder over to the garage. He passed by her, ready to give his thanks when a sudden surge of electricity hammered into his side. He convulsed to the ground, sight fading as his body cramped up.


When next he woke Rocky felt an ache in his arms. Specifically his shoulder joints. Trying to stand up made it worse. The ball locked behind his teeth kept his grunts muted.


He blinked in darkness. Twitching his nose the hyena gathered a bag wrapped over his head. A rope wrapped tight around his limbs, forcing his arms up behind him like a strappado while his legs stood on the tips of his toes. 


No. No, no, no! Rocky flailed in the bindings. He tried to kick out but his feet were tied to the floor. The more he struggled the tighter pressure around his sack grew. He paused to lessen the pain. Worries about what the mouse would do preoccupied his thoughts. 


A door slammed. Rocky’s heart pounded to the rhythm of steps coming toward him. Despite the bindings he tried to step back, succeeding in hurting his balls more before the vengeful bastard. 


He kept his eyes shut when the hood came off. He’d seen the mouse playful and friendly despite their sadism. Seeing them furious was too much. He waited for a response. A taunt. Something. When nothing came he peaked out to find the gas station lemur standing before him, hands deep in her pockets while looking him over.


Annie gave a long whistle. “He must think you’re special. Never seen him use gold like this.” 


She knew him. The realization sank into his stomach like a lead ball. She smiled, drinking in his terror for that moment. “Nice work you did to Renn. The hood was just the right amount of extra.” Her striped tail brushed Rocky’s face as she turned around. “Course he’s mighty pissed about that. So much that he’s afraid he can’t control himself. So he’ll pick you up in the morning.” 


Rocky looked around the room. Rather than the makings of a mechanics garage, there were tools of torment lining the walls and various sex toys shelved. He’d been moved into a basement. He wondered if it was under the gas station or deeper in town. The clap of leather put the question on hold.


“Until then, you’re gonna be my bitch.” The lemur patted a small leather paddle in her hands. Her eyes glanced downward. Rocky’s followed, widening at where they landed. “Don’t worry. They’ll be functional by the end of it. Besides.” Annie pulled out a key from her pocket. A chastity key, “Dick’s no fun without the balls."