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[url=https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=174503]Next Chapter[/url][/b]\n\nThanks to co-author @Stumpycoon for his assistance and support with this chapter.", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Thanks to co-author \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tStumpycoon\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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for his assistance and support with this chapter.", "writing": "[center]The Erotic Adventures of Whitehair:\nYergi’s Punishment\nChapter 03: Food & Foltchaín[/center]\n\nThe dining room had a hardwood floor like Whitehair’s bedroom. The room itself was dominated by a huge antique wood dining table that could have easily seated a dozen guests. The chairs matched the table with high wooden backs and overstuffed leather upholstered seats. The room was lacking windows and was only dimly lit when Whitehair entered. The wolf opened a small compartment by the light switch and took the butane lighter that was inside of it. He then proceeded to ignite the authentic gas light fixtures that had originally lit the room when the building had been built several hundred years in the past. It was one of the only two rooms left in the house that still were plumbed for optional gas lighting.\n\nWhen Ristin caught up, Whitehair had just finished with the last of the gaslights and was slipping the butane lighter back into its compartment. The wolf then lifted the raccoon into one of the chairs and secured him in place with a belt around his waist that he also fed through the dowel rods that made up the back of the chair.\n\n“You’re prepared for amputees, sir?” Ristin commented as he worked his stumps against the cushion. Sitting there, held in place by the belt, he felt almost normal for the moment and said, “Thank you, sir. You are very considerate.”\n\n“You are welcome, boi,” the wolf said, not having the heart to explain that the preparations were simply for bondage games rather than specifically for amputees. He pushed the chair up to the table, then he disappeared through an archway. A ways off, Ristin heard the wolf in the kitchen and wondered what his new master was making them to eat.\n\nBack in the bathing room, temporarily forgotten, the lion dried himself as best as he could in the cold air jets from the full-body dryer. Each movement was still agony as he shifted his weight on his wounded limbs. Alone with his thoughts and his new body, the reality of the situation began to flood his mind. Arms ending at the wrist, and legs cut just above his knees, Yergi realised that his body was now a prison that he could never escape from. Again he felt the ridges on his branded tongue and the pain of his empty gums. Lastly he sat down and pressed at his crotch with his handless wrist. It was now nothing more than a scabbed over indention, a reminder of his former male pride, leaving his balls hanging alone underneath.\n\nThe lion then began to wonder about his leg stumps and whether or not he would ever be able to walk upright on them or if he would truly have to spend the rest of his life on all fours like a feral. At least he still had his forearms and even though his hands were gone, he could roughly manipulate a few objects. In trying to imagine how to use his stumps for things like opening cupboards or doors, Yergi suddenly realized how hard it would be to take care of any itches he might have. \n\nThis, of course, caused him to start itching all over, especially in places that he could have easily reached when he was still whole. Yergi wildly rubbed his stumps against the spots that itched that he could reach and while the friction did sort of help abate the itching, it also caused him pain as it moved around the skin of the fresh woulds. Between what use he could get from his stumps and the walls of the drying chamber the lion finally sated his itching; for the moment at least.\n\nAs Yergi silently sobbed over his mutilated body he began to think of all the other things he would never be able to do again. Toothless, all of his food would have to be soft now. Most of the things he enjoyed eating required the strong teeth of a carnivore and now he would probably never taste them again. At lest he still had his tongue though. The lion was actually surprised by that and he was glad, even though he dreaded the things he was going to be made to do with it in the long years to come.\n\nThinking of food and thinking of the cruel conversation that the two were having about him, Yergi realized that going to the bathroom was going to be a challenge too. Mutilated like he was, he was almost certainly going to pee himself whenever he urinated and he had no idea how he would clean his tailhole after defecating. Either someone would have to cleanup after him like an infant or he was going to have to go around dirty back there. \n\nThinking about the problems using the bathroom triggered Yergi’s memory and he began to think about how the two stallions brutally had their way with him, filling his bowels with their seed and how he was glued closed and unable to relieve himself. Like the squirrel had taunted, he was bloated with gas and suffering severe cramping from it. Now that he was thinking about it, he realized even more just how much he desperately needed to evacuate his bowels. \n\nAlmost instinctively he spread what was left of his hind legs, squatted down and tried to squeeze out the load, hoping to maybe force the glue to give way. After a moment of trying he realized what he had done. Not only was he trying to shit on the floor but he looked just like a feral dog trying to relieve itself. Worse still, straining to shit had made him squirt out of his scabbed-over cock-stump, and has he looked between his legs he saw another squirt leak out, just like how a female dog pisses.\n\nAt first Yergi was filled with disgust and revulsion at what he had become, but then he thought back to the words of the wolf and the raccoon and fear gripped his heart. Fighting panic at the thought of being caught, the lion quickly dropped to the floor of the dryer and started licking up his own piss. It was dark orange, tinged with blood, very strong and intensely bitter. Worse still, the more he licked up the more he was uncontrollably leaking from himself. It was as if once he started to pee he couldn’t stop it.\n\nYergi’s near panic became a full panic. Instead of simply going to the shower drain and letting it all go, the lion frantically scampered around the bathroom, spraying his dark piss everywhere he went while trying to lick it up at the same time. He failed spectacularly. Only once his bladder was drained and the flow stopped was he able to lick it all back up. Then the panic subsided. \n\nWhat he had done came crashing home; the deed itself was bad enough but knowing he had done it out of fear and that he, Yergi, was already so completely controlled by his new masters was almost more than he could bear. He had obeyed out of terror, and almost completely without thinking. Even as bad as his life looked, he knew it could still get worse. Not wanting to risk the wrath of the infamous wolf, he scrambled out of the room and frantically searched about for the dining room where he was supposed to have gone immediately after drying off.\n\nDespite all of the damage inflicted upon the lion, his senses were still mostly intact and he was able to scent his way to the dining room where he saw Ristin tied to a chair and drinking from a long straw. Whitehair wasn’t in the room, but the lion could hear him nearby in the kitchen. Not sure what to do, he quietly crawled over beside Ristin’s chair and tried to remain unnoticed.\n\nWhen Whitehair returned to the dining room he brought Ristin a smoked salmon patty, chopped into small pieces, along with some cheese cubes, and a small bowl of mixed fruit chunks. For himself, the wolf had a large steak which he began to carve into and eat. Looking down at Yergi, who was half hidden behind Ristin’s chair, the wolf said, “If it falls on the floor, it is yours, rag.”\n\nRistin sipped from the straw, which lead from a mostly-empty glass of red wine. “Such a sacrilege to drink fine wine from a straw” the raccoon commented with a grin since he loved every minute, treating this limbless time like a little holiday. He looked down at the lion, then back to the food. “The food looks lovely, sir. Thank you very much.”\n\nWhitehair swallowed the bite of meat he was chewing and replied, “Enjoy it. You’ll have to muzzle it up like a feral, but with the belt you wont have to worry about falling off the chair.”\n\nRistin nodded and leaned forward, biting up a piece of salmon and chewing slowly. He savoured the rich flavours of the fish, one of his favorite foods but one he couldn’t afford due to his recent financial difficulties. “Thank you, sir. I love salmon, and thank you for cutting it for me. A lot of masters and friends like watching me eat like a feral out of a pet bowl when I am living like this.”\n\n“I am not saying that I wouldn’t enjoy watching you eat like that either, but I am feeling kind right now. That’s what happens when I get plenty of yiff and piss play.” The wolf chuckled and looked down at Yergi to see his reaction.\n\nThe lion noticed Whitehair’s gaze and swallowed hard, knowing that if he wanted kindness form the wolf he was going to have to take his cock, often. It worried the lion even more that he was still glued shut. He hoped desperately that his muzzle would do until the glue wore off and that he cold somehow get used to regularly taking a man in his ass.\n\n“I might like it too, here and there, but the change is nice,” the raccoon said as he leaned down to select another piece of salmon. He briefly considered giving something to the lion then reconsidered since it would mean making a mess on his master’s floor.\n\nWhitehair cut a fresh chunk of meat form his steak, chewed for a bit, then spat it out onto he floor. “Rag,” he called, “swallow that gristle and lick the floor clean.”\n\n“You’re very generous,” Ristin commented then muzzled up a cheese cube and chewed it while he watched the lion shuffle to the spat out meat and sniff at it. \n\nYergi wrinkled his nose at the thought of the partially-chewed saliva-covered meat, but he was incredibly hungry and it smelled so good. He gobbled it from the floor, trying to chew it more even without having teeth to do so. Even after it having been in the wolf’s mouth, the lion couldn’t help help but appreciate the flavour of the fine food and expert cooking. All too soon the pleasant moment passed and after he swallowed the meat he had to turn his muzzle to the floor as he he obediently licked it clean of the meat greases and wolf spit.\n\n“Meat will be a very rare treat for the rag to clean up,” Whitehair commented, cutting himself another piece and chewing it. “He definitely hasn’t done a good enough job to deserve it yet, but I think it is good to show him what can happen if he does perform well.”\n\nYergi almost cried at the thought of his rewards for pleasing the wolf being akin to a piece of half-chewed meat spat on the floor. His old life where he held the power of life and death over so many people was now gone and seemed like nothing but a dream, or perhaps even a nightmare. In the past there was so much anger and hatred in him and now there was just fear and pain.\n\nWhitehair finished his glass of wine, refilled it, then poured the last of the bottle in Ristin’s glass. He then set the bottle on the floor and commanded, “Take it to the trash in the kitchen, rag.”\n\nYergi’s eyes went wide. He could barely move about on his stumps as it was. He had no idea how he was going to be able to take the bottle in his forepaws and make it to the kitchen. In then hit him that he had to think of these things like a feral. He took the bottle in his aching muzzle, tears of pain welling up in his eyes, and shuffled his way to the kitchen. There he found the trash, which he had to crawl up against while balancing on his hind stumps and clinging to the container in order to drop the bottle inside of it with his muzzle.\n\nWhen he had finished his task and was back on all fours, he noticed that there was a puddle of orange liquid below him, leaking from his crotch. Immediately his heart raced but he didn’t go into a full panic like he did in the bathroom. He waited until the bloody urine stopped leaking and then he lapped at the puddle, cleaning it all up.\n\nHe was still dehydrated and his urine was very strong. The blood made it even more salty and left him wanting more to drink. Looking around the kitchen he saw a bowl on the floor that had “rag” written on a piece of tape on it. He shuffled over to the bowl and saw that it was full to the rim with light yellow wolf piss. Still, it was something to drink and he began lapping it up, savouring the milder flavour of the properly hydrated wolf’s urine.\n\nYergi was so thirsty that he lapped up the entire bowl of wolf piss, licking it dry. He then scampered back to the dining room so that he wouldn’t get in trouble for not being there to clean up any other spills his two masters graciously gifted him with. This time he didn’t cringe at his thoughts or at his animal-like state of existence; he was already adjusting to it almost as if it was how things should have been all of his life. What no one could have known was that if Yergi’s had been collared as a young man and spent his adult life as a submissive, he would never have developed the cruel streak that led him to his heinous crimes.\n\nWhitehair had finished the last of his steak and he was happily chewing on the bone, crushing it with his strong teeth and powerful jaws. Ristin was still working on his meal, eating much slower than the wolf due to the way he had to eat while still attempting to maintain a sense of dignity. Yergi shuffled over to the side of the table between the two of them and waited, his gaze lowered submissively. It was then that he caught a scent wafting towards him. \n\nCarefully sniffing from side to side he was able to pinpoint the direction of the source and looked up just enough to see that it was coming from Ristin’s crotch. There was a large puddle of mixed vaginal juices, semen, and urine that had been slowly leaking out from the raccoon’s vulva during the meal. There was enough of it that it had pooled on the leather seat cushion, the wooden bottom of the chair, and was even dripping into the floor.\n\nYergi hadn’t been explicitly ordered to clean the mess up but he had been told to lick up the pee and cum that Ristin had been dripping all over the floor earlier. He didn’t want to get in trouble for not doing it now, but more than that, the scent was intoxicating. Slowly, quietly, he shuffled over to Ristin’s chair and started to lick at the mess on the floor.\n\nAs Yergi licked up the mixed fluids, he could feel his cock getting hard, yearning for release. The more he licked the harder he got until he felt like he was going to explode. It was then that he remembered that he didn’t have a penis anymore. Looking between his hind stumps, he confirmed that there was nothing there but the angry red wound, which was leaking blood-tinged prostate fluid. Even so he could still feel his cock as though it were still intact and functional.\n\n“What is the rag doing over there?” Whitehair asked.\n\nRistin looked down and for the first time he noticed the mess that he was making. Turing bright red under his fur he squirmed a little, which only caused more to leak out of him, and looked up at the wolf. “I’m leaking? I’m sorry sir, I didn’t realise! I thought I was clean after the washing, I am very sorry sir.” he looked down at the lion cleaning up the mess and nearly thanked him, but refrained from saying anything to the slave. “I hope I haven’t damaged or stained the chair, sir.”\n\nYergi desperately needed to cum. His ghost-cock yearned for release, his balls ached, and all he could think about was how much be wanted to cum, how much he needed to cum, and how he couldn’t do it. The scent from Ristin’s mess continued to drive him wild and he returned to lapping at the spilt fluids, cleaning up the wood, then the leather, then directly licking the raccoon’s lips, his ridged tongue penetrating them and brushing against the coon’s vaginal opening, urethra, and clit with each eager lap.\n\nWhitehair smiled. “You aren’t the first one to scent the leather, boi. I guess I am just going to have to punish you by allowing rag the pleasure of eating you out.”\n\nWhitehair’s words were the first thing to bring the lion happiness since he had been brought to the wolf for punishment. Now wanting to waste the opportunity, he licked even harder and deeper, forcing his tongue as far into the raccoon’s vagina as he could, trying to get out every bit of the intoxicating mix of bodily fluids.\n\nAs Whitehair watched Ristin squirming in pleasure from Yergi’s intense tongue work, he felt his sheath swelling and sexual desire building in him. Just as he reached down and started to stroke himself through his sheath, there came a chime at the door. The wolf frowned and glared though the wall and floor in the direction of the main door. “Again?” he muttered under his breath and stood up. “No need to stop. I’ll be back,” he said, sighed, and then headed for the stairs.\n\nYergi continued his tongue work on Ristin, ignoring everything except the taste of the coon’s vaginal juices, savouring every lick. Ristin squirmed but the belt held him in place. He didn’t want the lion to make him feel good; he wanted to be angry at Yergi the criminal; he wanted to help fight down his growing sympathy for the mutilated lion. Furthermore he didn’t want the lion to be in control and calling the shots. But now he couldn’t resist, he was tied there so he couldn’t move and the fluids were leaking from deep inside him where he had no control. Worse yet, Yergi was fully in control for the moment, after deciding on his own initative to do the cleaning out of the bound raccoon and then having gotten further approval from Whitehair. After a moment more of the lion’s ministrations Ristin relented and let himself enjoy it, shuddering from the small orgasm the lion’s ridged tongue gave him. He whispered so that only the lion could hear, “Thank you, rag.”\n\nA couple of minutes later Whitehair came back into the dining room, followed by a shapely white sheep girl wearing a translucent pink sundress. She giggled when she saw Ristin belted helpless into the chair with Yergi licking away at his vulva. “My, my! Is this a new kink I need to know about, Master Whitehair, sir?” she asked in a teasing tone.\n\nWhitehair wagged his tail. “Foltchaín, this handsome young raccoon cuntboi is named Ristin. He is my guest and pet for a time while he is waiting for his cybernetics to be repaired by Dr. Gridjumper.”\n\nThe sheep bent down to kiss Ristin on the top of his head, intentionally pressing her ample breasts into his face. “Pleased to meet you, cutie,” she flirted then stood back up.\n\nStill squirming from the lion’s tonguing between his legs, Ristin somehow managed to smile after the kiss and breast-facial and said, “Pleased to meet you, Mistress Foltchaín,” after taking a guess that she was above him in the hierarchy.\n\nThe sheep’s eyes went wide at the title of “Mistress” but she simply smiled. Whitehair continued, “The thing on the floor that used to be a lion is one of my official projects. For now it is known as “rag” but someday it might earn a new name.”\n\nFoltchaín gasped and stepped back away from the mutilated lion. She was so caught off guard that she forgot to mask her native accent. “Don’t be tellin’ me that this was the butcher of Rocky Flats Estates now!”\n\nThe wolf nodded. “Yes, the same. The courts ordered physical mutilation, which included all teeth removed, wrist and knee amputations, and a penectomy. It is being trained for its new life now.”\n\nHatred and repulsion flashed in Foltchaín’s emerald green eyes. “So why is it enjoying licking the raccoon instead of out with me?”\n\nWhitehair’s right eyebrow raised up. “Well, you enjoy what you do. What’s to say he wouldn’t like it also?”\n\nFoltchaín snorted indignantly. “Come off if, Master Whitehair. You be knowin’ as well as I am that people like me are one in a million at best.”\n\nThe wolf chuckled. “Even with as much interaction with people of heavy kink as I have, I will admit that people of your inclination are rare indeed.”\n\n“So will ye be sendin’ him with me?”\n\n“I will bring him out there with me while you work. If I am the least bit dissatisfied with any of his actions, then I will put him alongside you.”\n\nFoltchaín grinned and dropped her light pink dress to the ground. She was naked underneath and her crotch was shaved to her skin, highlighting her pouting full lips, glistening with dampness. “Then lets get going!”\n\n“Follow her, rag,” Whitehair ordered. He waited for the lion to tear himself away from Ristin’s crotch and follow Foltchaín towards the stairs before he turned to Ristin and asked, “Do you want to be out there with us, or would you rather do something else?”\n\n“I would like to come with you please?” the raccoon asked, curious about what it was that was going to happen and hoping that they meant taking the two quad-slaves out for ‘walkies’.\n\nWhitehair nodded and began undoing the belt holding Ristin in place. “If watching her starts to disturb you, just ask me for some more wine,” the wolf whispered and winked. He then grabbed the raccoon and carried him out of the dining room, down the hallway, down the stairs, and out a door leading to a small walled courtyard. \n\nThe courtyard had a metal table and a few chairs on a cement patio. The rest was grass, covered with a disturbingly large number of piles of excrement. The stench of the built up mess overpowered the pleasant scents from the flowers which were planted in erotic and sometimes even obscenely sculpted planters placed around the courtyard.\n\nFoltchaín opened her purse and took out a small glass vial. She unstoppered it, drank the contents, and then put the empty vial back in her purse. “So I don’t risk throwing up,” she answered the raccoon’s unasked question. Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, she got down on all fours and stared eating some of the grass, her bright pink pucker and her glistening pussy lips exposed for all to see. \n\nYergi’s eyes went as wide as saucers when she didn’t stop or eat around the first pile of waste she came to. He felt his own stomach churning as he watched her chew up the pile of wolf waste and swallow every bit of it as though she enjoyed it even more than the grass she had been eating.\n\nWhitehair put the raccoon down on his four stumps, and after a quick look and sniff Ristin commented, “This is not what I expected.” He concentrated on managing his stomach and acclimatising to the stench. The raccoon didn’t plan to join in, but neither did he want to interfere with the interests, kinks or fetishes of someone else. Instead he tried to be just an audience member, hoping to let the sheep know he didn’t condemn or despise her in any way.\n\nYergi wasn’t handling the situation nearly as well. He wrapped his arm stumps around his stomach and bent forward as if he was about to vomit. Whitehair growled and hollered, “Oh no you don’t! You are not going to waste that meat I gave you.” The wolf pressed a button on the control unit he now wore on his left wrist like a watch. A brutal jolt of electricity was delivered by the two robotic spiders attached to the lion’s testicles.\n\nYergi, even with his damaged vocal chords squeaked in agony, pulling even tighter into a fetal position. For the moment, however, the urge to vomit was gone as the pain overloaded his tortured nervous system.\n\n“I like her, sir” Ristin commented to Whitehair, acting as if Yergi’s punishment was not even worth his notice. \n\nFoltchaín’s head snapped up at the wolf’s raised voice and Yergi’s meek sounds. She blushed slightly at Ristin’s compliment and gave him a wink. “You’ll like me even more if your master lets us play when I’m done.” She then looked up at Whitehair and added, “If you want to make sure rag can’t barf, there’s another vial up there in my purse.”\n\nRistin gulped. Since his first guess at the sheep’s intentions was so far off the mark he was more than a bit nervous about what her offer to play might entail.\n\nWhitehair nodded and, fighting his revulsion to digging in someone else’s private things, opened her purse and produced another vial. He grabbed Yergi’s muzzle and pried it open, pouring the contents of the vial down his throat. “Now you get to go join her and eat up, rag,” he growled.\n\nYergi desperately shook his head no, which further angered the wolf. Another shock to the lion’s balls, followed by one to his prostate sated the wolf’s anger slightly. The pain was so intense for yergi that his vision began to blur and darken, but it was not quite enough to give him the sweet release of unconsciousness.\n\n“I said we should cut that tail off him if he fails to perform. He doesn’t deserve it as it is,” Ristin added, then swung the metal cap of his arm-stump into the lion’s already tortured balls.\n\nYergi silently screamed again from the pain, his stomach knotted even with the instantly acting fluid in it. He lurched forward and scrambled to his stumps as soon as the electric shocks subsided enough that he could move. Quickly he scurried over to the grass before the raccoon could strike him again. Tears streaming down his face he wrinkled up his nose and forced himself to open his muzzle over the first pile of mess he came to. \n\n“Thank you for not forcing me to participate sir, I really appreciate it,” Ristin said and then nuzzled the wolf’s thigh like a pet fetal cat might. The demonstration was not lost on the raccoon, that the wolf had asked him his limits before bringing him down here. Furthermore the wolf respected or cared enough about Ristin not to break them. Yergi, was not receiving the same care or consideration. \n\nRistin watched, again battling his mixed feelings towards the lion. He had warmed slightly to rag when the lion was doing such a pleasurable job cleaning between the coon’s legs and making him feel so good, but the lion’s single failure to obey rankled with the former-slave raccoon. Compared to some of the slave treatment he had seen before, the lion was getting off lightly for such disobedience.\n\nWhitehair pressed the control on his wrist, sending another torturous electrical shock into the lion’s prostate. “Eat it up faster. I know you are practically starving, rag. Eat it like a the starving piece of shit you are.”\n\n“Shit eating shit,” Ristin commented loudly, to shame the lion. He then glanced at the sheep and gulped. “Um, sorry, Mistress, I only meant rag,” he added, hanging his head in shame and embarrassment.\n\nFoltchaín swallowed her mouthful of wolf shit and laughed. “It’s okay, sweetie. I have been called a lot worse.”\n\nWhitehair added, “Eating scat is one of her more tame kinks, according to some people.”\n\n“To each their own, I always say” Ristin said, thinking oddly enough of his mate and the fetishes each had that the other didn’t share. \n\nFoltchaín flashed a literal shit-eating grin then returned to her second-hand meal. She was already on her fifth pile and seemed to be loving every bite of the filth that she scarfed up. The short white wool of her face was streaked with brown from her voracious eating.\n\nYergi had somehow managed to finish eating his first pile of wolf excrement. It was the wost taste he had ever had in his mouth, and in his mind he wanted to spit it back up. Only the fear of more punishment and possibly loosing more parts from his body, especially his beloved tail, drove him onward to the next pile. He shuddered when he realized that the mound in front of him was less than two days old; probably the last time the wolf had gone right before he began the lion’s mutilation and torture. His whole body was shaking with revulsion as he opened his mouth and began to chew the filth.\n\n“It’s fun watching them,” Ristin commented to Whitehair, “Seeing Lady Foltchaín enjoying herself and seeing rag punished. Sir, I do have a question for you about the lion’s future. What do you intend to do with him?” The ex-slave was wondering about long-term fates, and had been considering how best to use rag to help Yergi’s victims.\n\n“Well, my original plan was to use him for my personal pleasure while training him for a life of sexual service. When I was satisfied that he wouldn’t embarrass me as a slave, I was going to put him up for auction.”\n\n“What about something for the families of the victims? When we were discussing urinal-slaves earlier sir, I was wondering if that would be a good use for him? Possibly at one of the families homes or somewhere public like the police station? That might be a better deterrent to other would-be murders than letting rag hide away from public view.”\n\nWhitehair visibly shuddered at the mention of the word “police” but the wolf quickly regained his composure. “A life as a public urinal would be a good service to the community and help deter others, but I don’t see how that would directly help the survivors. I know that one of the surviving mutilated youths is getting Yergi’s paws though, in place of the ones Yergi cut from him.”\n\n“That is oddly fitting sir,” Ristin replied. “I must admit that one reason I chose cybernetic replacements is so they would be removable. I like being like this sometimes. I was offered donated parts at one point though, but I turned them down.”\n\nWhitehair nodded. “You aren’t the first person I have met who enjoys someone else being able to literally take their limbs away as a type of control, punishment, or even reward. For some submissives being so completely helpless is like a vacation. Anyway, do you have any other thoughts about how he could directly help the survivors of his crimes?”\n\n“Not yet sir, but I am working on it,” Ristin said with a hard edge to his tone.\n\n“Did you know two of the survivors, both children he mutilated, asked the courts to be merciful instead of them sending him to me? Even children think my punishments are too much for him. How do children even know about the things I do unless they are watching the televised punishments, and then why are they watching them unless they are a victim? I sometimes don’t think I have done enough to punish him, but then I am from...” the wolf paused, realizing that he almost admitted to something that he didn’t want anyone to know, “...a time and place where people thought differently than they do here and now, I guess.”\n\n“I believe we forge our own fates, and even if we temporarily escape the consequences of our actions, the universe has a way of delivering them back upon us. Some call that karma, or other names. I’d say that you are like a mirror, and have reflected onto rag what Yergi made of himself, what he did to his spirit by the harm he inflicted on others.”\n\n“Perhaps. I hope you’re right and karma isn’t waiting to do this to me... although...” the wolf drifted off, lost in thoughts of his distant past where he had been mutilated and tortured. In his case it had not been because of crime he had committed, but simply to satisfy the sadistic pleasures of a cruel master.\n\n“I doubt it,” Ristin said, ignorant of the wolf’s past.\n\nWhitehair watched Foltchaín and rag eating his waste and sensing an opportunity to change the subject he bent over and whispered to Ristin, “The first two times she came out here to clean up after me, I thought I was going to loose my lunch. It was so disgusting to think about, but at the same time, it was erotic to watch someone eating your shit and thanking you for it. But what really got me was the first time she took a handful that I had just left a few hours before she arrived and she smeared it all in her cunt and masturbated with it. By the Gods, I don’t know how she keeps from getting infections down there.”\n\n“Me neither, sir. That’s one huge advantage of mine being synthetic, sir. It is much easier to manage and naturally resistant to infections, Master.” He looked oddly curious about the idea of masturbating with shit, intrigued and repulsed in equal measure.\n\nYergi managed to get down the pile of scat he was eating. Suddenly there was an overpowering ache in his bowels again and without thinking, he spread his hind stumps and tried to shit, desperate to relieve the massive buildup inside of him. To his dismay, the glue continued to hold and he couldn’t relieve his torture. He tried again but all it did was make the cramping worse.\n\nAt the sight of rag trying to shit like a feral dog Ristin burst into laughter.\n\n“Next one, rag!” Whitehair snapped, sending another shock into the lion’s testicles. \n\nYergi silently yelped and lurched forward again. He scampered to the next pile, which was several days old by the look of it. He fought his instincts and quickly started eating the dry mess so as to not draw any more of the wolf’s ire and subject himself to more pain.\n\n“If he stops hesitating and obeys more willingly I will be a lot more pleased with rag,” Ristin commented after the lion picked up the pace.\n\nBy the time Yergi was on his sixth pile, Foltchaín had already cleaned up over half of the yard. She finished the pile she was on and sat upright, her stomach distended like she had swallowed a melon. “Oh, wow. I have never been able to stuff myself like that before. Whew! Remind me to never go on vacation that long again.”\n\nWhitehair smiled. “Why don’t you shower off and come inside for a nice cold drink. We’ll leave rag out here to finish eating the rest.”\n\nYergi cringed and swallowed what was in his muzzle. He looked pleadingly up at Whitehair but as soon as he saw the look on the wolf’s face he lowered his muzzle and quickly took another bite and began gumming it.\n\nFoltchaín slowly got to her feet and walked over to where Yergi was eating. “May I do as I please with him, Master Whitehair?” she asked coyly.\n\nWhitehair nodded.\n\nFoltchaín grinned and squatted down so that her crotch was in Yergi’s muzzle. Suddenly she was spraying his face, nose, and mouth with her piss, giggling as it all dripped down onto the pile he had been eating. She smashed his muzzle down into the wet mess and said, “You’re too clean for a rag,” then stood and sauntered across the lawn to where an outside shower had been installed against the side of the house.\n\nThis time it wasn’t the piss that made Yergi want to vomit, but what the piss did as it mixed with the wolf’s old shit, and then having it all smashed into his face and fur. Yergi tried to lick himself clean but all he did was smear the mess more. He gave up and returned to eating the remains of the pile, then moved on to the next one. With his stomach already aching from what little he had forced himself to eat and the gas cramps caused by the horse cum trapped in his sealed bowels, he had no idea how he was ever going to match how much Foltchaín had eaten.\n\n“You have an outdoor shower?” Ristin asked. “I haven’t seen one of those except on houses near the beach, sir” \n\n“Yeah, I actually had it installed just after I hired Foltchaín to be my maid and gardener. I didn’t want her tracking my own shit back though the house so she could shower upstairs. Plus,” Whitehair lowered his voice to near a whisper, “I slipped and fell in my own mess one night and I had to cleanup after myself between here and my shower because it was right after she had left and wouldn’t be back to clean again for several days.”\n\n“I see, sir. That makes sense.” The raccoon nuzzled his master’s leg again.\n\nThe wolf reached down to pet Ristin’s head affectionately and said, “If you like watching females, she puts on quite a show when she showers after eating form the lawn. I’ll let you stay and watch if you want.”\n\n“No thank you. I’m not sure I am invited, sir. If she were a slave I might but she is a lady.” The way he said the word lady almost sounded as though he meant the title as a sign of the nobility.\n\n“Now what gave you that idea? I met her when she was with her master at a dungeon party I was throwing. He squatted over her and fed her right in front of everyone, then offered her to anyone else, slave or master, who wanted to use her mouth for their toilette. After the event, I took her aside and made sure that she had been okay with what went on. It turned out that she had begged her master for it and that it was something he really didn’t want to do, but since she had been such a good slave he had wanted to reward her on her birthday with something special. Oh, what a night that was! She must have taken over thirty cocks in her ass and cunt put together that night. I swear she was drunk from all the orgasms she had by the time it was all over.”\n\n“She’s still a lady to me, sir... unless she says otherwise,” Ristin insisted with a smile and obvious admiration for the ewe.\n\nWhitehair nodded, stood, and picked up the raccoon. “Foltchaín, we’ll be in the sitting room when you are clean and dried off.”\n\n“Sure thing, Master Whitehair,” she replied, soaping up her breasts and moaning with please as she squeezed her nipples one at a time before moving on to pleasure her own crotch.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
The Erotic Adventures of Whitehair:
Yergi’s Punishment
Chapter 03: Food & Foltchaín


The dining room had a hardwood floor like Whitehair’s bedroom.  The room itself was dominated by a huge antique wood dining table that could have easily seated a dozen guests.  The chairs matched the table with high wooden backs and overstuffed leather upholstered seats.  The room was lacking windows and was only dimly lit when Whitehair entered.  The wolf opened a small compartment by the light switch and took the butane lighter that was inside of it.  He then proceeded to ignite the authentic gas light fixtures that had originally lit the room when the building had been built several hundred years in the past.  It was one of the only two rooms left in the house that still were plumbed for optional gas lighting.

When Ristin caught up, Whitehair had just finished with the last of the gaslights and was slipping the butane lighter back into its compartment.   The wolf then lifted the raccoon into one of the chairs and secured him in place with a belt around his waist that he also fed through the dowel rods that made up the back of the chair.

“You’re prepared for amputees, sir?” Ristin commented as he worked his stumps against the cushion.  Sitting there, held in place by the belt, he felt almost normal for the moment and said, “Thank you, sir.  You are very considerate.”

“You are welcome, boi,” the wolf said, not having the heart to explain that the preparations were simply for bondage games rather than specifically for amputees.   He pushed the chair up to the table, then he disappeared through an archway.  A ways off, Ristin heard the wolf in the kitchen and wondered what his new master was making them to eat.

Back in the bathing room, temporarily forgotten, the lion dried himself as best as he could in the cold air jets from the full-body dryer.  Each movement was still agony as he shifted his weight on his wounded limbs.  Alone with his thoughts and his new body, the reality of the situation began to flood his mind.  Arms ending at the wrist, and legs cut just above his knees, Yergi realised that his body was now a prison that he could never escape from.  Again he felt the ridges on his branded tongue and the pain of his empty gums.  Lastly he sat down and pressed at his crotch with his handless wrist.  It was now nothing more than a scabbed over indention, a reminder of his former male pride, leaving his balls hanging alone underneath.

The lion then began to wonder about his leg stumps and whether or not he would ever be able to walk upright on them or if he would truly have to spend the rest of his life on all fours like a feral.  At least he still had his forearms and even though his hands were gone, he could roughly manipulate a few objects.  In trying to imagine how to use his stumps for things like opening cupboards or doors, Yergi suddenly realized how hard it would be to take care of any itches he might have.  

This, of course, caused him to start itching all over, especially in places that he could have easily reached when he was still whole.  Yergi wildly rubbed his stumps against the spots that itched that he could reach and while the friction did sort of  help abate the itching, it also caused him pain as it moved around the skin of the fresh woulds.  Between what use he could get from his stumps and the walls of the drying chamber the lion finally sated his itching; for the moment at least.

As Yergi silently sobbed over his mutilated body he began to think of all the other things he would never be able to do again.  Toothless, all of his food would have to be soft now.  Most of the things he enjoyed eating required the strong teeth of a carnivore and now he would probably never taste them again.  At lest he still had his tongue though.  The lion was actually surprised by that and he was glad, even though he dreaded the things he was going to be made to do with it in the long years to come.

Thinking of food and thinking of the cruel conversation that the two were having about him, Yergi realized that going to the bathroom was going to be a challenge too.  Mutilated like he was, he was almost certainly going to pee himself whenever he urinated and he had no idea how he would clean his tailhole after defecating.  Either someone would have to cleanup after him like an infant or he was going to have to go around dirty back there.

Thinking about the problems using the bathroom triggered Yergi’s memory and he began to think about how the two stallions brutally had their way with him, filling his bowels with their seed and how he was glued closed and unable to relieve himself.  Like the squirrel had taunted, he was bloated with gas and suffering severe cramping from it.  Now that he was thinking about it, he realized even more just how much he desperately needed to evacuate his bowels.  

Almost instinctively he spread what was left of his hind legs, squatted down and tried to squeeze out the load, hoping to maybe force the glue to give way.  After a moment of trying he realized what he had done.  Not only was he trying to shit on the floor but he looked just like a feral dog trying to relieve itself.  Worse still, straining to shit had made him squirt out of his scabbed-over cock-stump, and has he looked between his legs he saw another squirt leak out, just like how a female dog pisses.

At first Yergi was filled with disgust and revulsion at what he had become, but then he thought back to the words of the wolf and the raccoon and fear gripped his heart.  Fighting panic at the thought of being caught, the lion quickly dropped to the floor of the dryer and started licking up his own piss.  It was dark orange, tinged with blood, very strong and intensely bitter.  Worse still, the more he licked up the more he was uncontrollably leaking from himself.  It was as if once he started to pee he couldn’t stop it.

Yergi’s near panic became a full panic.  Instead of simply going to the shower drain and letting it all go, the lion frantically scampered around the bathroom, spraying his dark piss everywhere he went while trying to lick it up at the same time.  He failed spectacularly.  Only once his bladder was drained and the flow stopped was he able to lick it all back up.  Then the panic subsided.  

What he had done came crashing home; the deed itself was bad enough but knowing he had done it out of fear and that he, Yergi, was already so completely controlled by his new masters was almost more than he could bear.  He had obeyed out of terror, and almost completely without thinking.  Even as bad as his life looked, he knew it could still get worse.  Not wanting to risk the wrath of the infamous wolf, he scrambled out of the room and frantically searched about for the dining room where he was supposed to have gone immediately after drying off.

Despite all of the damage inflicted upon the lion, his senses were still mostly intact and he was able to scent his way to the dining room where he saw Ristin tied to a chair and drinking from a long straw.  Whitehair wasn’t in the room, but the lion could hear him nearby in the kitchen.  Not sure what to do, he quietly crawled over beside Ristin’s chair and tried to remain unnoticed.

When Whitehair returned to the dining room he brought Ristin a smoked salmon patty, chopped into small pieces, along with some cheese cubes, and a small bowl of mixed fruit chunks.  For himself, the wolf had a large steak which he began to carve into and eat.  Looking down at Yergi, who was half hidden behind Ristin’s chair, the wolf said, “If it falls on the floor, it is yours, rag.”

Ristin sipped from the straw, which lead from a mostly-empty glass of red wine.  “Such a sacrilege to drink fine wine from a straw” the raccoon commented with a grin since he loved every minute, treating this limbless time like a little holiday.  He looked down at the lion, then back to the food.  “The food looks lovely, sir.  Thank you very much.”

Whitehair swallowed the bite of meat he was chewing and replied, “Enjoy it.  You’ll have to muzzle it up like a feral, but with the belt you wont have to worry about falling off the chair.”

Ristin nodded and leaned forward, biting up a piece of salmon and chewing slowly.  He savoured the rich flavours of the fish, one of his favorite foods but one he couldn’t afford due to his recent financial difficulties.  “Thank you, sir.  I love salmon, and thank you for cutting it for me.  A lot of masters and friends like watching me eat like a feral out of a pet bowl when I am living like this.”

“I am not saying that I wouldn’t enjoy watching you eat like that either, but I am feeling kind right now.  That’s what happens when I get plenty of yiff and piss play.”  The wolf chuckled and looked down at Yergi to see his reaction.

The lion noticed Whitehair’s gaze and swallowed hard, knowing that if he wanted kindness form the wolf he was going to have to take his cock, often.  It worried the lion even more that he was still glued shut.  He hoped desperately that his muzzle would do until the glue wore off and that he cold somehow get used to regularly taking a man in his ass.

“I might like it too, here and there, but the change is nice,” the raccoon said as he leaned down to select another piece of salmon.  He briefly considered giving something to the lion then reconsidered since it would mean making a mess on his master’s floor.

Whitehair cut a fresh chunk of meat form his steak, chewed for a bit, then spat it out onto he floor.  “Rag,” he called, “swallow that gristle and lick the floor clean.”

“You’re very generous,” Ristin commented then muzzled up a cheese cube and chewed it while he watched the lion shuffle to the spat out meat and sniff at it.  

Yergi wrinkled his nose at the thought of the partially-chewed saliva-covered meat, but he was incredibly hungry and it smelled so good.  He gobbled it from the floor, trying to chew it more even without having teeth to do so.  Even after it having been in the wolf’s mouth, the lion couldn’t help help but appreciate the flavour of the fine food and expert cooking.  All too soon the pleasant moment passed and after he swallowed the meat he had to turn his muzzle to the floor as he he obediently licked it clean of the meat greases and wolf spit.

“Meat will be a very rare treat for the rag to clean up,” Whitehair commented, cutting himself another piece and chewing it.  “He definitely hasn’t done a good enough job to deserve it yet, but I think it is good to show him what can happen if he does perform well.”

Yergi almost cried at the thought of his rewards for pleasing the wolf being akin to a piece of half-chewed meat spat on the floor.  His old life where he held the power of life and death over so many people was now gone and seemed like nothing but a dream, or perhaps even a nightmare.  In the past there was so much anger and hatred in him and now there was just fear and pain.

Whitehair finished his glass of wine, refilled it, then poured the last of the bottle in Ristin’s glass.  He then set the bottle on the floor and commanded, “Take it to the trash in the kitchen, rag.”

Yergi’s eyes went wide.  He could barely move about on his stumps as it was.  He had no idea how he was going to be able to take the bottle in his forepaws and make it to the kitchen.  In then hit him that he had to think of these things like a feral.  He took the bottle in his aching muzzle, tears of pain welling up in his eyes, and shuffled his way to the kitchen.  There he found the trash, which he had to crawl up against while balancing on his hind stumps and clinging to the container in order to drop the bottle inside of it with his muzzle.

When he had finished his task and was back on all fours, he noticed that there was a puddle of orange liquid below him, leaking from his crotch.  Immediately his heart raced but he didn’t go into a full panic like he did in the bathroom.  He waited until the bloody urine stopped leaking and then he lapped at the puddle, cleaning it all up.

He was still dehydrated and his urine was very strong.  The blood made it even more salty and left him wanting more to drink.  Looking around the kitchen he saw a bowl on the floor that had “rag” written on a piece of tape on it.  He shuffled over to the bowl and saw that it was full to the rim with light yellow wolf piss.  Still, it was something to drink and he began lapping it up, savouring the milder flavour of the properly hydrated wolf’s urine.

Yergi was so thirsty that he lapped up the entire bowl of wolf piss, licking it dry.  He then scampered back to the dining room so that he wouldn’t get in trouble for not being there to clean up any other spills his two masters graciously gifted him with.  This time he didn’t cringe at his thoughts or at his animal-like state of existence; he was already adjusting to it almost as if it was how things should have been all of his life.  What no one could have known was that if Yergi’s had been collared as a young man and spent his adult life as a submissive, he would never have developed the cruel streak that led him to his heinous crimes.

Whitehair had finished the last of his steak and he was happily chewing on the bone, crushing it with his strong teeth and powerful jaws.  Ristin was still working on his meal, eating much slower than the wolf due to the way he had to eat while still attempting to maintain a sense of dignity.  Yergi shuffled over to the side of the table between the two of them and waited, his gaze lowered submissively.  It was then that he caught a scent wafting towards him.  

Carefully sniffing from side to side he was able to pinpoint the direction of the source and looked up just enough to see that it was coming from Ristin’s crotch.  There was a large puddle of mixed vaginal juices, semen, and urine that had been slowly leaking out from the raccoon’s vulva during the meal.  There was enough of it that it had pooled on the leather seat cushion, the wooden bottom of the chair, and was even dripping into the floor.

Yergi hadn’t been explicitly ordered to clean the mess up but he had been told to lick up the pee and cum that Ristin had been dripping all over the floor earlier.  He didn’t want to get in trouble for not doing it now, but more than that, the scent was intoxicating.  Slowly, quietly, he shuffled over to Ristin’s chair and started to lick at the mess on the floor.

As Yergi licked up the mixed fluids, he could feel his cock getting hard, yearning for release.  The more he licked the harder he got until he felt like he was going to explode.  It was then that he remembered that he didn’t have a penis anymore.  Looking between his hind stumps, he confirmed that there was nothing there but the angry red wound, which was leaking blood-tinged prostate fluid.  Even so he could still feel his cock as though it were still intact and functional.

“What is the rag doing over there?” Whitehair asked.

Ristin looked down and for the first time he noticed the mess that he was making.  Turing bright red under his fur he squirmed a little, which only caused more to leak out of him, and looked up at the wolf.  “I’m leaking?  I’m sorry sir, I didn’t realise!  I thought I was clean after the washing, I am very sorry sir.” he looked down at the lion cleaning up the mess and nearly thanked him, but refrained from saying anything to the slave.  “I hope I haven’t damaged or stained the chair, sir.”

Yergi desperately needed to cum.  His ghost-cock yearned for release, his balls ached, and all he could think about was how much be wanted to cum, how much he needed to cum, and how he couldn’t do it.  The scent from Ristin’s mess continued to drive him wild and he returned to lapping at the spilt fluids, cleaning up the wood, then the leather, then directly licking the raccoon’s lips, his ridged tongue penetrating them and brushing against the coon’s vaginal opening, urethra, and clit with each eager lap.

Whitehair smiled.  “You aren’t the first one to scent the leather, boi.  I guess I am just going to have to punish you by allowing rag the pleasure of eating you out.”

Whitehair’s words were the first thing to bring the lion happiness since he had been brought to the wolf for punishment.  Now wanting to waste the opportunity, he licked even harder and deeper, forcing his tongue as far into the raccoon’s vagina as he could, trying to get out every bit of the intoxicating mix of bodily fluids.

As Whitehair watched Ristin squirming in pleasure from Yergi’s intense tongue work, he felt his sheath swelling and sexual desire building in him.  Just as he reached down and started to stroke himself through his sheath, there came a chime at the door.  The wolf frowned and glared though the wall and floor in the direction of the main door.  “Again?” he muttered under his breath and stood up.  “No need to stop.  I’ll be back,” he said, sighed, and then headed for the stairs.

Yergi continued his tongue work on Ristin, ignoring everything except the taste of the coon’s vaginal juices, savouring every lick.  Ristin squirmed but the belt held him in place.  He didn’t want the lion to make him feel good; he wanted to be angry at Yergi the criminal; he wanted to help fight down his growing sympathy for the mutilated lion.  Furthermore he didn’t want the lion to be in control and calling the shots.  But now he couldn’t resist, he was tied there so he couldn’t move and the fluids were leaking from deep inside him where he had no control.  Worse yet, Yergi was fully in control for the moment, after deciding on his own initative to do the cleaning out of the bound raccoon and then having gotten further approval from Whitehair.  After a moment more of the lion’s ministrations Ristin relented and let himself enjoy it, shuddering from the small orgasm the lion’s ridged tongue gave him.  He whispered so that only the lion could hear, “Thank you, rag.”

A couple of minutes later Whitehair came back into the dining room, followed by a shapely white sheep girl wearing a translucent pink sundress.  She giggled when she saw Ristin belted helpless into the chair with Yergi licking away at his vulva.  “My, my!  Is this a new kink I need to know about, Master Whitehair, sir?” she asked in a teasing tone.

Whitehair wagged his tail.  “Foltchaín, this handsome young raccoon cuntboi is named Ristin.  He is my guest and pet for a time while he is waiting for his cybernetics to be repaired by Dr. Gridjumper.”

The sheep bent down to kiss Ristin on the top of his head, intentionally pressing her ample breasts into his face.  “Pleased to meet you, cutie,” she flirted then stood back up.

Still squirming from the lion’s tonguing between his legs, Ristin somehow managed to smile after the kiss and breast-facial and said, “Pleased to meet you, Mistress Foltchaín,” after taking a guess that she was above him in the hierarchy.

The sheep’s eyes went wide at the title of “Mistress” but she simply smiled.  Whitehair continued, “The thing on the floor that used to be a lion is one of my official projects.  For now it is known as “rag” but someday it might earn a new name.”

Foltchaín gasped and stepped back away from the mutilated lion.  She was so caught off guard that she forgot to mask her native accent.  “Don’t be tellin’ me that this was the butcher of Rocky Flats Estates now!”

The wolf nodded.  “Yes, the same.  The courts ordered physical mutilation, which included all teeth removed, wrist and knee amputations, and a penectomy.  It is being trained for its new life now.”

Hatred and repulsion flashed in Foltchaín’s emerald green eyes.  “So why is it enjoying licking the raccoon instead of out with me?”

Whitehair’s right eyebrow raised up.  “Well, you enjoy what you do.  What’s to say he wouldn’t like it also?”

Foltchaín snorted indignantly.  “Come off if, Master Whitehair.  You be knowin’ as well as I am that people like me are one in a million at best.”

The wolf chuckled.  “Even with as much interaction with people of heavy kink as I have, I will admit that people of your inclination are rare indeed.”

“So will ye be sendin’ him with me?”

“I will bring him out there with me while you work.  If I am the least bit dissatisfied with any of his actions, then I will put him alongside you.”

Foltchaín grinned and dropped her light pink dress to the ground.  She was naked underneath and her crotch was shaved to her skin, highlighting her pouting full lips, glistening with dampness.  “Then lets get going!”

“Follow her, rag,” Whitehair ordered.  He waited for the lion to tear himself away from Ristin’s crotch and follow Foltchaín towards the stairs before he turned to Ristin and asked, “Do you want to be out there with us, or would you rather do something else?”

“I would like to come with you please?” the raccoon asked, curious about what it was that was going to happen and hoping that they meant taking the two quad-slaves out for ‘walkies’.

Whitehair nodded and began undoing the belt holding Ristin in place.  “If watching her starts to disturb you, just ask me for some more wine,” the wolf whispered and winked.  He then grabbed the raccoon and carried him out of the dining room, down the hallway, down the stairs, and out a door leading to a small walled courtyard.  

The courtyard had a metal table and a few chairs on a cement patio.  The rest was grass, covered with a disturbingly large number of piles of excrement.  The stench of the built up mess overpowered the pleasant scents from the flowers which were planted in erotic and sometimes even obscenely sculpted planters placed around the courtyard.

Foltchaín opened her purse and took out a small glass vial.  She unstoppered it, drank the contents, and then put the empty vial back in her purse.  “So I don’t risk throwing up,” she answered the raccoon’s unasked question.  Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, she got down on all fours and stared eating some of the grass, her bright pink pucker and her glistening pussy lips exposed for all to see.  

Yergi’s eyes went as wide as saucers when she didn’t stop or eat around the first pile of waste she came to.  He felt his own stomach churning as he watched her chew up the pile of wolf waste and swallow every bit of it as though she enjoyed it even more than the grass she had been eating.

Whitehair put the raccoon down on his four stumps, and after a quick look and sniff Ristin commented, “This is not what I expected.”  He concentrated on managing his stomach and acclimatising to the stench.  The raccoon didn’t plan to join in, but neither did he want to interfere with the interests, kinks or fetishes of someone else.  Instead he tried to be just an audience member, hoping to let the sheep know he didn’t condemn or despise her in any way.

Yergi wasn’t handling the situation nearly as well.  He wrapped his arm stumps around his stomach and bent forward as if he was about to vomit.  Whitehair growled and hollered, “Oh no you don’t!  You are not going to waste that meat I gave you.”  The wolf pressed a button on the control unit he now wore on his left wrist like a watch.  A brutal jolt of electricity was delivered by the two robotic spiders attached to the lion’s testicles.

Yergi, even with his damaged vocal chords squeaked in agony, pulling even tighter into a fetal position.  For the moment, however, the urge to vomit was gone as the pain overloaded his tortured nervous system.

“I like her, sir” Ristin commented to Whitehair, acting as if Yergi’s punishment was not even worth his notice.  

Foltchaín’s head snapped up at the wolf’s raised voice and Yergi’s meek sounds.  She blushed slightly at Ristin’s compliment and gave him a wink.  “You’ll like me even more if your master lets us play when I’m done.”  She then looked up at Whitehair and added, “If you want to make sure rag can’t barf, there’s another vial up there in my purse.”

Ristin gulped.  Since his first guess at the sheep’s intentions was so far off the mark he was more than a bit nervous about what her offer to play might entail.

Whitehair nodded and, fighting his revulsion to digging in someone else’s private things, opened her purse and produced another vial.  He grabbed Yergi’s muzzle and pried it open, pouring the contents of the vial down his throat.  “Now you get to go join her and eat up, rag,” he growled.

Yergi desperately shook his head no, which further angered the wolf.  Another shock to the lion’s balls, followed by one to his prostate sated the wolf’s anger slightly.  The pain was so intense for yergi that his vision began to blur and darken, but it was not quite enough to give him the sweet release of unconsciousness.

“I said we should cut that tail off him if he fails to perform.  He doesn’t deserve it as it is,” Ristin added, then swung the metal cap of his arm-stump into the lion’s already tortured balls.

Yergi silently screamed again from the pain, his stomach knotted even with the instantly acting fluid in it.  He lurched forward and scrambled to his stumps as soon as the electric shocks subsided enough that he could move.  Quickly he scurried over to the grass before the raccoon could strike him again.  Tears streaming down his face he wrinkled up his nose and forced himself to open his muzzle over the first pile of mess he came to.  

“Thank you for not forcing me to participate sir, I really appreciate it,” Ristin said and then nuzzled the wolf’s thigh like a pet fetal cat might.  The demonstration was not lost on the raccoon, that the wolf had asked him his limits before bringing him down here.  Furthermore the wolf respected or cared enough about Ristin not to break them.  Yergi, was not receiving the same care or consideration.  

Ristin watched, again battling his mixed feelings towards the lion.  He had warmed slightly to rag when the lion was doing such a pleasurable job cleaning between the coon’s legs and making him feel so good, but the lion’s single failure to obey rankled with the former-slave raccoon.  Compared to some of the slave treatment he had seen before, the lion was getting off lightly for such disobedience.

Whitehair pressed the control on his wrist, sending another torturous electrical shock into the lion’s prostate.  “Eat it up faster.  I know you are practically starving, rag.  Eat it like a the starving piece of shit you are.”

“Shit eating shit,” Ristin commented loudly, to shame the lion.  He then glanced at the sheep and gulped.  “Um, sorry, Mistress, I only meant rag,” he added, hanging his head in shame and embarrassment.

Foltchaín swallowed her mouthful of wolf shit and laughed.  “It’s okay, sweetie.  I have been called a lot worse.”

Whitehair added, “Eating scat is one of her more tame kinks, according to some people.”

“To each their own, I always say” Ristin said, thinking oddly enough of his mate and the fetishes each had that the other didn’t share.  

Foltchaín flashed a literal shit-eating grin then returned to her second-hand meal.  She was already on her fifth pile and seemed to be loving every bite of the filth that she scarfed up.  The short white wool of her face was streaked with brown from her voracious eating.

Yergi had somehow managed to finish eating his first pile of wolf excrement.  It was the wost taste he had ever had in his mouth, and in his mind he wanted to spit it back up.  Only the fear of more punishment and possibly loosing more parts from his body, especially his beloved tail, drove him onward to the next pile.  He shuddered when he realized that the mound in front of him was less than two days old; probably the last time the wolf had gone right before he began the lion’s mutilation and torture.  His whole body was shaking with revulsion as he opened his mouth and began to chew the filth.

“It’s fun watching them,” Ristin commented to Whitehair, “Seeing Lady Foltchaín enjoying herself and seeing rag punished.  Sir, I do have a question for you about the lion’s future.  What do you intend to do with him?”  The ex-slave was wondering about long-term fates, and had been considering how best to use rag to help Yergi’s victims.

“Well, my original plan was to use him for my personal pleasure while training him for a life of sexual service.  When I was satisfied that he wouldn’t embarrass me as a slave, I was going to put him up for auction.”

“What about something for the families of the victims?  When we were discussing urinal-slaves earlier sir, I was wondering if that would be a good use for him?  Possibly at one of the families homes or somewhere public like the police station?  That might be a better deterrent to other would-be murders than letting rag hide away from public view.”

Whitehair visibly shuddered at the mention of the word “police” but the wolf quickly regained his composure.  “A life as a public urinal would be a good service to the community and help deter others, but I don’t see how that would directly help the survivors.  I know that one of the surviving mutilated youths is getting Yergi’s paws though, in place of the ones Yergi cut from him.”

“That is oddly fitting sir,” Ristin replied.  “I must admit that one reason I chose cybernetic replacements is so they would be removable.  I like being like this sometimes.  I was offered donated parts at one point though, but I turned them down.”

Whitehair nodded.  “You aren’t the first person I have met who enjoys someone else being able to literally take their limbs away as a type of control, punishment, or even reward.  For some submissives being so completely helpless is like a vacation.  Anyway, do you have any other thoughts about how he could directly help the survivors of his crimes?”

“Not yet sir, but I am working on it,” Ristin said with a hard edge to his tone.

“Did you know two of the survivors, both children he mutilated, asked the courts to be merciful instead of them sending him to me?  Even children think my punishments are too much for him.  How do children even know about the things I do unless they are watching the televised punishments, and then why are they watching them unless they are a victim?  I sometimes don’t think I have done enough to punish him, but then I am from...” the wolf paused, realizing that he almost admitted to something that he didn’t want anyone to know, “...a time and place where people thought differently than they do here and now, I guess.”

“I believe we forge our own fates, and even if we temporarily escape the consequences of our actions, the universe has a way of delivering them back upon us.  Some call that karma, or other names.  I’d say that you are like a mirror, and have reflected onto rag what Yergi made of himself, what he did to his spirit by the harm he inflicted on others.”

“Perhaps.  I hope you’re right and karma isn’t waiting to do this to me... although...” the wolf drifted off, lost in thoughts of his distant past where he had been mutilated and tortured.  In his case it had not been because of crime he had committed, but simply to satisfy the sadistic pleasures of a cruel master.

“I doubt it,” Ristin said, ignorant of the wolf’s past.

Whitehair watched Foltchaín and rag eating his waste and sensing an opportunity to change the subject he bent over and whispered to Ristin, “The first two times she came out here to clean up after me, I thought I was going to loose my lunch.  It was so disgusting to think about, but at the same time, it was erotic to watch someone eating your shit and thanking you for it.  But what really got me was the first time she took a handful that I had just left a few hours before she arrived and she smeared it all in her cunt and masturbated with it.  By the Gods, I don’t know how she keeps from getting infections down there.”

“Me neither, sir.  That’s one huge advantage of mine being synthetic, sir.  It is much easier to manage and naturally resistant to infections, Master.”  He looked oddly curious about the idea of masturbating with shit, intrigued and repulsed in equal measure.

Yergi managed to get down the pile of scat he was eating.  Suddenly there was an overpowering ache in his bowels again and without thinking, he spread his hind stumps and tried to shit, desperate to relieve the massive buildup inside of him.  To his dismay, the glue continued to hold and he couldn’t relieve his torture.  He tried again but all it did was make the cramping worse.

At the sight of rag trying to shit like a feral dog Ristin burst into laughter.

“Next one, rag!” Whitehair snapped, sending another shock into the lion’s testicles.  

Yergi silently yelped and lurched forward again.  He scampered to the next pile, which was several days old by the look of it.  He fought his instincts and quickly started eating the dry mess so as to not draw any more of the wolf’s ire and subject himself to more pain.

“If he stops hesitating and obeys more willingly I will be a lot more pleased with rag,” Ristin commented after the lion picked up the pace.

By the time Yergi was on his sixth pile, Foltchaín had already cleaned up over half of the yard.  She finished the pile she was on and sat upright, her stomach distended like she had swallowed a melon.  “Oh, wow.  I have never been able to stuff myself like that before.  Whew!  Remind me to never go on vacation that long again.”

Whitehair smiled.  “Why don’t you shower off and come inside for a nice cold drink.  We’ll leave rag out here to finish eating the rest.”

Yergi cringed and swallowed what was in his muzzle.  He looked pleadingly up at Whitehair but as soon as he saw the look on the wolf’s face he lowered his muzzle and quickly took another bite and began gumming it.

Foltchaín slowly got to her feet and walked over to where Yergi was eating.  “May I do as I please with him, Master Whitehair?” she asked coyly.

Whitehair nodded.

Foltchaín grinned and squatted down so that her crotch was in Yergi’s muzzle.  Suddenly she was spraying his face, nose, and mouth with her piss, giggling as it all dripped down onto the pile he had been eating.  She smashed his muzzle down into the wet mess and said, “You’re too clean for a rag,” then stood and sauntered across the lawn to where an outside shower had been installed against the side of the house.

This time it wasn’t the piss that made Yergi want to vomit, but what the piss did as it mixed with the wolf’s old shit, and then having it all smashed into his face and fur.  Yergi tried to lick himself clean but all he did was smear the mess more.  He gave up and returned to eating the remains of the pile, then moved on to the next one.  With his stomach already aching from what little he had forced himself to eat and the gas cramps caused by the horse cum trapped in his sealed bowels, he had no idea how he was ever going to match how much Foltchaín had eaten.

“You have an outdoor shower?” Ristin asked.  “I haven’t seen one of those except on houses near the beach, sir”

“Yeah, I actually had it installed just after I hired Foltchaín to be my maid and gardener.  I didn’t want her tracking my own shit back though the house so she could shower upstairs.  Plus,” Whitehair lowered his voice to near a whisper, “I slipped and fell in my own mess one night and I had to cleanup after myself between here and my shower because it was right after she had left and wouldn’t be back to clean again for several days.”

“I see, sir.  That makes sense.”  The raccoon nuzzled his master’s leg again.

The wolf reached down to pet Ristin’s head affectionately and said, “If you like watching females, she puts on quite a show when she showers after eating form the lawn.  I’ll let you stay and watch if you want.”

“No thank you.  I’m not sure I am invited, sir.  If she were a slave I might but she is a lady.” The way he said the word lady almost sounded as though he meant the title as a sign of the nobility.

“Now what gave you that idea?  I met her when she was with her master at a dungeon party I was throwing.  He squatted over her and fed her right in front of everyone, then offered her to anyone else, slave or master, who wanted to use her mouth for their toilette.  After the event, I took her aside and made sure that she had been okay with what went on.  It turned out that she had begged her master for it and that it was something he really didn’t want to do, but since she had been such a good slave he had wanted to reward her on her birthday with something special.  Oh, what a night that was!  She must have taken over thirty cocks in her ass and cunt put together that night.  I swear she was drunk from all the orgasms she had by the time it was all over.”

“She’s still a lady to me, sir... unless she says otherwise,” Ristin insisted with a smile and obvious admiration for the ewe.

Whitehair nodded, stood, and picked up the raccoon.  “Foltchaín, we’ll be in the sitting room when you are clean and dried off.”

“Sure thing, Master Whitehair,” she replied, soaping up her breasts and moaning with please as she squeezed her nipples one at a time before moving on to pleasure her own crotch.

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