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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 05: Clean Out & Clean Up[/center]\n\nWhitehair stood in the steaming hot shower pissing on his amputee slavboi’s artificial vagina. Ristin hissed in pain from the stinging sensation of the wolf’s urine in the three wounds where the slivers had been. Whitehair had been right; the cuntboi’s urethra was the most sensitive and the piss stung nearly as bad as the sliver itself had.\n\nThe door opened and Foltchaín weakly staggered into the bathroom. Her stomach was distended and her expression was one of total misery. Whitehair was certain that if it weren’t for the concoction she had drank before going out to feast in his small garden area that she would probably be vomiting by now. It reminded him of a demonstration he had seen at a BDSM convention on another world. \n\nThe workshop was called “raunch” and it involved a dominant force-feeding the submissive on stage some of the nastiest and revolting foods that they could think of. Though excrement hadn’t been on the menu, the submissive was given food items that he was allergic to. All of this was to induce the submissive to vomit, which was then force fed to him again. The wolf’s own companion was not only disgusted but emotionally disturbed by the display and they ended up leaving the demonstration before it was over.\n\nThe fact that the submissive on stage had enjoyed the activity was one of the wolf’s early lessons that just because he thought something was disgusting and even appalling, that there were people out there that enjoyed it. Thinking back, he realized that it was because of this that he could now stomach watching and even ordering people like Foltchaín to eat shit.\n\nAs Whitehair finished pissing on Ristin’s cunt, Yergi awkwardly made his way into the bathroom as well. The mutilated lion didn’t look so much as if he was going to be sick, but it was apparent that his recently amputated stumps were causing him so much pain that he was on the edge of passing out. Whitehair also noted that although Foltchaín and Yergi were both in need of a good shampoo Yergi had actually done a good job of cleaning the sheep’s shit form her wool and skin.\n\n“We... we ate it all, Master Whitehair,” Foltchaín weakly said. “Your floor is nice and clean again.” She dropped to her knees and moaned as she inadvertently leaked a bit more scat from her still loose and aching ass. Separating herself from Whitehair’s knot had not only caused numerous micro-tears in her anal ring but it had traumatised her sphincter and for the time being she couldn’t keep it closed.\n\nWhitehair handed Foltchaín the enema nozzle and the hand shower head. “Clean yourself up inside and out, then clean up the rag.”\n\n“Thank you, Master Whitehair,” she said, grateful that she could empty the rest of the mess form her bowels without having to try to eat it again. In the hall, following her orders, Yergi had eaten most of the large pile of mess she had made.\n\nWhitehair turned to Ristin and asked, “Does my coon want to go into the tub again and watch her clean out, or would you rather dry off and go back to the sitting room?”\n\n“I would like to watch please?” he asked, partly out of reluctance to be alone again and partly to stay with his two lovely masters.\n\nWhitehair nodded and adjusted the temperature on the tub, then opened the lid. He lifted Ristin into the deep tub, then for his second time that day the wolf climbed into the steaming hot water. He patted Ristin’s head and then shifted himself so that he would have a good view of the sheep as she filled her bowels with hot water.\n\nFoltchaín wasted no time in putting the enema hose up her ass. She increased the pressure and then relaxed just enough that she could hold the nozzle in place with her ass cheeks and still let the water and her slimy yellow slurry of shit flow back out of her stretched and abused pucker. \n\nYergi didn’t know what to do and was so afraid of being punished that he shuffled over to Foltchaín and tried to lick up her mess as it flowed onto the floor and down the grate. The warm water and slimy yellow mess was impossible for him to keep up with, though every now and then more solid chunks of excrement plopped out and Yergi forced himself to lap those up, hoping it would be enough to keep his master’s wrath at bay.\n\nRistin paddled closer to his master then squeezed into his lap. The steaming hot water stung his wounds but also felt good in a way. “The rag is doing much better,” he observed and smiled. Earlier he had seen the mutilated lion obediently cleaning Foltchaín and now he was trying to serve without needing to be ordered. \n\nRistin lowered his voice and commented, “Eating the shit seems to have agreed with the rag, Master. He almost looks happy and adjusted to his new role. Maybe this is is how he could serve, sir? Crawling about the floor of a public toilet cleaning up after the free people?”\n\n“When I put him up for sale, I will definitely list this as one of his more useful skills, but watching him eat her shit and the piles of my old shit outside has made me realize that I would enjoy having a toilet slave for a time. I might keep him longer than I planned before I sell him. Of course,” the wolf kissed the top of Ristin’s head, “You will still get to be my urinal slave even if I make him my toilet slave. And you shall use him too, whenever you need to pee or potty.”\n\nRistin squirmed in Whitehair’s lap at the thought of making someone else eat his shit; he was still far from comfortable with the idea. “He can have my pee, sir,” the raccoon said carefully calculating his next words so as to not appear to be unwilling to comply with his new master’s wishes, “But I would enjoy getting to poo in your garden like a pet feral, if that is okay?” The raccoon was hoping to find a way that he didn’t have to use Yergi’s face as a toilet.\n\nWhitehair chuckled. “Oh, I see. You like the thought of Foltchaín eating your shit much better than the rag eating it.”\n\n“Well, if she wants it, I guess that is okay.” Ristin was uncomfortable with the idea of anyone having to eat his waste but at the same time he wanted to please Foltchaín and he knew how much she seemed to enjoy eating the wolf’s shit. The mental image of himself in her arms, helpless to stop her from using him however she wished, even as a living food dispenser, filled his thoughts for a moment. Ristin admitted to himself it was not an entirely unpleasant prospect, the pleasant tingling of sexual arousal coming from between his hind stumps. There was something about Foltchaín that made him willing to be used like that, no matter how much the thought of her eating his shit disturbed him.\n\n“Any resident or guest in my house who has to defecate, unless there is a toilet slave in the dungeon, either uses the garden or they go outside in the street and risk getting arrested. Foltchaín getting to clean out in the shower is a very rare treat that almost never happens. Usually when someone gets an enema it is done in the outside shower and they have to release in the garden where she eventually gets to eat it.”\n\n“Thank you for keeping me clean, Master. It does mean a lot to me to be clean and that you are giving me special privileges, sir.”\n\n“I have grown very fond of you, much quicker than this old mutt usually develops affection for anyone. Perhaps it is because you remind me of someone special from my past, though he wasn’t an amputee like you are. Still, you two share a remarkable amount of characteristics.”\n\nThe raccoon stood on his stumps on Whitehair’s lap and reached up out of the water to nuzzle the kind old wolf’s neck. Whitehair blushed though his fur and licked Ristin on the nose, without saying a word.\n\nFoltchaín removed the hose and bore down, spraying little more than discolored water from her bowels this time. She took several deep breaths and then sprayed more water from her ass. Everything went easily down the drain so there was nothing more for Yergi to lick up for the time being.\n\n“Please, Master Whitehair, may I do more?” Foltchaín asked.\n\nThe wolf nodded.\n\nFoltchaín set the hand sprayer aside so that the shower was no longer spraying on her then she increased the shower’s temperature until it was so hot that it was mildly uncomfortable against the skin of her hands. She then decreased the pressure on the enema hose so that when she held the quarter-inch hose directly up towards the ceiling, the plume of water only shot up about eighteen inches. This time when she went to put the host back up her ass she drew in her breath with a sharp hiss as the hot water stung her ass and pussy. Once the hose was inside, her sphincter involuntarily struggled to close around it to help prevent the hot water from burning her external skin further.\n\nThe sheep was panting in short sharp breaths as the hot water began to fill her bowels. She had the water much hotter than what was medically considered safe, but she had been taught about the risks of an enema that hot by Whitehair when she watched him doing the same thing to himself once. She discovered that she, like the wolf, really enjoyed the extreme sensations caused by the insanely hot water, although being a female she didn’t have a prostate glad for it to stimulate and cause her to drip precum all over like he did.\n\nAs the hot water continued to fill Foltchaín’s intestines a massive cramp hit. She struggled against the urge to rip the hose out and let the hot water spray all over the floor, forcing herself to slowly count backwards from ten to zero. By the time she hit three the cramps had stopped and again she could relax and enjoy the persistent flow of water. On a normal day she could take a full gallon of water inside of her at once, but she wasn’t empty from her initial enema and she also knew that there was still a large amount of shit deep inside of her.\n\nThe large volume of water making Foltchaín’s intestines swell up compounded with her swollen, bloated stomach from eating too much out in the yard made the sheep look like she was pregnant. She felt like she was going to explode and groaned in pain as she struggled to continue taking more of the hot water into her, despite the fact that she was so bloated that she was having trouble breathing. Weakly she reached behind her and pulled the enema hose out of her ass, wincing in pain as the spray of hot water from it stung against her skin. She tossed the hose aside and with shaking hands turned the water temperature back down.\n\n“How long, Master Whitehair?” she gasped out, straining to hold back tears as she fought against her body’s desperate urges to empty her bowels.\n\nWhitehair looked up at the clock on the wall. “If you can keep from leaking any of it, you can release in about ten minutes. Otherwise you have to hold it for twice as long and then you’ll get another one afterwards.”\n\nFoltchaín moaned and looked up at Whitehair with a mixture of agony and disbelief. “M-master Whitehair? Have I displeased you somehow?”\n\nThe wolf grinned, his tail lazily wagging under the surface of the water in the hot tub. “Not at all. That is why I am rewarding you with the chance to show off your self-control and obedience for me.”\n\n“Some reward,” she thought to herself. Aloud she replied, “Thank you, Master Whitehair.”\n\n“Now turn your ass towards us so that I can observe that you don’t leak.”\n\nFoltchaín carefully turned around so that her upturned ass and pussy were clearly visible and pointed towards the hot tub. Her pussy lips, anal pucker, and the cheeks of her ass were all bright red from the burning hot water. Moving to give her master the view he requested had nearly caused her to leak some of her contents, but she managed to keep all but a couple of drops of the hot water inside of her.\n\nRistin noted that with Foltchaín’s ass being presented for Whitehair as it was that if she happened to loose control that it would be possible for him and his master to be sprayed with the hot water she had inside or her and maybe even splattered with her filth. The prospect did not please him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He briefly considered ducking under the water if the sheep lost control, but decided that on the other stump he was already in a bath. If a sheep shit-spray did happen and drench him and his wolf master then they were in just the right place to be cleaned afterwards. And as he reflected on it, the stumpy raccoon was also unsure if he could get out of the bath under his own power. The more he thought about it the more he realized that he couldn’t have and that this was yet another thing we was completely dependant upon others for.\n\nWhitehair looked at Yergi and then commanded, “Rag, come around over here and lick her clean so I can see if she leaks anything.”\n\nFoltchaín clenched her fists in concentration as she struggled to hold her abused ass closed. It took even more effort to keep from leaking as Yergi’s tongue started to work her over, especially as he licked against her pussy, making her shiver with pleasure even in spite of how much pain she was feeling from being so bloated.\n\n“I wonder if she’ll make it?” Ristin mused aloud, then looked about trying to spot a clock or timepiece. Like everything else in the Japanese bath, the clock was designed to blend in and look natural at first glance. Looking more closely the raccoon saw that the earth-tone image painted on the face of the clock was of a canine furson on all fours with his tail raised invitingly. His pucker, which was positioned in the exact center for the clock’s arms to attach to the works, was slightly open and a line of cum trailed from it down over his low-hanging ball sack. One raised eyebrow was the raccoon’s response to spotting that detail. Then he realised this room was not just a washroom like in a normal house, but doubled as a stage for performing extreme and messy fetishes like the sheep’s enema-play they were witnessing. \n\n“I hope not,” Whitehair whispered back, his sheath swelling as he imagined the dire need that Foltchaín was experiencing, savouring the thought of her desperate need for release. If the wolf hadn’t recently had sex, this was the kind of situation that would have driven him to mount her ass and make sure to stay knotted until she was wailing in agony and pleading for release. The wolf loved to put submissives into situations of extreme physical sensation, but at the same time he knew that she had damaged herself a bit when she pulled off of his knot and he didn’t want to cause her any real harm.\n\nFoltchaín managed to hold in all but a few more drops of the hot water while Yergi licked her ass and cunt clean. The mutilated lion did such a thorough job that there was no sign of the sheep’s slight leak when he finished and moved aside so that his master could watch her.\n\n“Rag, don’t you just wish you still had your cock so you could fuck that horny sheep’s hungry cunt?” Whitehair tormented Yergi.\n\nThe mutilated lion looked up at his master and nodded sadly. He would have gladly been willing to eat nothing but shit for the rest of his life if it meant that he could have his cock back, but he knew that even though it was medically possible the court order prevented it.\n\nTime seemed to slow down for Foltchaín. She couldn’t see the clock from her current position and what to her seemed like it surely was ten minutes wasn’t even half that. Every few seconds her body tried to convince her to release the massive amount of hot water she had insider her. Each time it happened, Whitehair could see her anal sphincter start to spasm. From his own past experiences, he knew exactly what she was going through and it was making him hard inside his sheath thinking about it.\n\nAt the nine minute mark Whitehair said to Ristin, “Well, boi, it looks like she is going to make it, unfortunately.”\n\nFoltchaín whimpered at the comment, nonplussed that the wolf was hoping that she would fail so he could punish her further. She had no idea how much her predicament had aroused him and how close she was to having him jump out of the hot tub and fuck her tailhole a second time.\n\nThe last thirty seconds were the worst. Foltchaín was sure that she wasn’t going to make it and if the room hadn't been so full of steam, Whitehair would have seen that she was starting to leak a little bit. As it was, the ten minute mark came and went and with a sigh the wolf slowly said, “Turn your ass back to the shower wall and you may release.”\n\nFoltchaín practically spun in place, getting her rear end facing the wall with the shower and enema nozzles. She squatted down in feral fashion and started to release the still hot water. She whined and squirmed as the hot water stung against her sensitive asshole, but squatting like she was the burning liquid wasn’t torturing her pussy lips. \n\nWhat came out was only slightly discolored water and barely a quart in volume. Foltchaín moaned and started massaging her distended stomach. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, a slight hint of panic in her voice.\n\nIn a soothing voice, Whitehair replied, “Just relax and don’t force it. Stand all the way up, then bend over and touch your hooves, then straighten back up and lean backwards a bit. After that you should feel the urge to go again.”\n\nFoltchaín did as she was told , leaking a little more water when she bent over. Just as the wolf had said, once she was upright she felt a gurgling inside of her and suddenly the urge to go was back, even more intense than it had been while she was waiting for the ten minutes that felt like ten hours to pass. Quickly she squatted back down and took a deep breath and relaxed.\n\nFoltchaín bleated in pain as another massive amount of her own filth practically exploded out of her butt, splattering against the floor and the back wall. This was much darker in color, nearly solid, and almost as large was Whitehair’s knot had been. The stench that accompanied it was radically different than the equally foul stench that had come from her yellow sludge.\n\nThe smell alone was enough to cause Yergi to hesitate doing his duty and eating it, but only for a moment. His fear of further punishment overcame the revulsion and he began to try to chew the largest part of her explosive expulsion. It was quite solid and for the toothless lion is was actually difficult to chew, like when we was trying to eat the piece of grizzle whitehair had spat on the floor for him. Not only that but there were sharp shards poking against the inside of his abused muzzle. He recognized them as bits of shattered bone and realized that at one point Foltchaín must have tried to actually digest meat.\n\nWhitehair heard the crunching sound of the brittle bones as Yergi struggled to eat the partially digested animal without the benefit of teeth. The wolf raised his eyebrow at Foltchaín. “What were you tyring to eat?”\n\n“A feral lizard that I had discovered in my garden when I got back from my trip,” Foltchaín replied sheepishly.\n\n“Looks and smells like you couldn’t digest it properly.”\n\n“No, Master Whitehair.”\n\n“Very well. Clean up after yourself and make sure you are well rinsed inside, then I want you and the rag cleaned up.”\n\n“Yes, Master Whitehair.”\n\n“Rag, you don’t have to lick up any more of her shit for now,” Whitehair said, then he licked Ristin’s nose again. “You are such a cute coon, boi.”\n\n“You’re a kind and handsome wolf, sir”\n\nWhitehair smiled but his eyes betrayed the deep sadness that he always tried to hide. In an even softer voice he offered, “Is there anything that you would enjoy doing after we are all cleaned up and dried off?”\n\nRistin turned his head and watched the lion and the sheep “Watching them is nice, sir,” he said, “And I do have one idea; something my beloved rat won’t let me do. You and Foltchaín could take the rag and I for walkies to a pet park?” His tail waged in the water at the thought. “Do you think people made into pets like us would be okay there? The people that took off my arms and legs made me live as a pet-slave, and playing at being a feral pet is something I miss, sir.” As he finished he sat in Whitehair’s lap in the water and leaned back against the wolf’s furry chest to watch Foltchaín and the refreshingly obedient rag washing.\n\nWhitehair pondered Ristin’s request for a few minutes and then nodded. “I think we can take you to the park. It is going to be a lot more torture for rag to walk that much on his stumps, this being the first day after the amputations and all.”\n\n“Oh yes, I hadn’t thought of that,” Ristin said, his rump resting against the wolf’s sheath as the raccoon continued to watch the others. “I wouldn’t want the rag to feel punished, not after he’s started obeying.”\n\n“Well, I could give him anti-pain injections into each of his four stumps. Frynge has insured me that the surgery could withstand taking him on a one mile forced march after the first night’s healing, and by the second day they would be able to be walked on for eight hours straight with no damage, just an unbelievable amount of pain.”\n\nRistin nodded. “With the pain meds it would be almost like a reward, and it looks like he has earned some mercy, sir.”\n\n“Yes, I think he has.” Whitehair smiled as he watched Foltchaín shampoo and thoroughly scrub Yergi from head to tail. The wolf noticed that she spent a lot of time scrubbing his glued shut pucker and examining the wound where his penis had been cut off. The wolf whispered to Ristin, “Look at her. She wants him to fuck her so bad that she can feel him inside of her, but it just isn’t possible.”\n\n“He could wear a strapon?” Ristin suggested, “Or have a dildo tied to a wrist stump?”\n\n“Foltchaín and I both prefer the real thing, sweetie. I might put toys on his wrist stumps and have him service you and her, but I know that when she has a cock in her, she wants it to squirt, just like I do.”\n\n“Now I wish I had one so I could make her happy,” Ristin said and smiled. He loved being a cuntboy but there were rare moments of regret like this one. \n\n“How come you haven’t asked Frynge to make you one that you could interchange with your clit?” I bet he could make it so that your urethra routed correctly and that an artificial scrotum could even be made to cover the rest of your pussy while you wore it so that you looked completely male. Or, if maybe if you preferred to look herm, he could insert the artificial testicles in your body cavity so you could be both.”\n\nThe raccoon chuckled. “It’s a great idea but I’d probably get it cut off. I never really liked having a cock and balls, except for rare occasions. I wasn’t sad to lose it and be a nullo, and when I got rebuilt I was very happy to be a cuntboy. But come to think of it...” he leaned to the side and slipped onto his back in the water, floating there showing Whitehair his pussy. The little splinter-wounds were still visible but not bleeding or causing the raccoon any apparent discomfort at the moment. \n\n“I do have a nice socket for it.” Mentally, Ristin sent the commands to his cubernetics to open the secret panel covering the attachment socket. When he had first been made a cuntboi, Frynge had fitted him with a concealable port to mount a cybernetic male member. His cybernetics could support anything from a simple dildo with tactile feedback up to a fully functional synthetic cock and balls. But Ristin had never been tempted to get such a device fitted and even if he had been tempted, he had not been in any position to have afforded it. In fact, this was the first time since he had been made a cuntboi that he had even show anyone that the adapter port existed. His mate didn’t even know about it. \n\nWhitehair did something that he almost never did with a real female; he licked Ristin’s clitoris several times, watching the coon squirm with enhanced pleasure. “Thank you for sharing the information about your secret port with me.”\n\nWith a mental command Ristin ordered the port to close. The synthetic skin and fur around it closed leaving no visual sign of the concealed cock-socket. He did not want anyone else to know about his little secret and wasn’t even sure why he let his new master know.\n\nWhitehair climbed out of the tub and then turned back and gently lifted Ristin from the hot water. He lowered the lid and turned the heater off, then carried Ristin over to the full body dryer and set the warm air to dry and fluff the two of them up while Foltchaín finished rinsing off Yergi and was shampooing her own white wool.\n\nOne the wolf and raccoon were both dry he announced, “Foltchaín, when you two are done, I want you to find your dress and then come into my bedroom. I have something special planned for my little coon here.”\n\n“Something special that I need my dress for? Awwww. Then it’s not more fucking?”\n\nThe wolf chuckled. If only she male he would probably buy her as his own slave. It was a real problem for him to find slavebois with enough libido to keep up with him for more than a day or two. “No, this isn’t technically something sexual, though I know a few kinky people that would cum themselves from it.”\n\n“I will be trying my best to, sir and ma’am,” Ristin said with a naughty grin from his perch in the wolf’s arms.\n\nWhitehair chuckled and carried Ristin to his bedroom where he laid the raccoon out on the bed. The white rabbit fur was still stained with cum and pee form their fun earlier that morning, but it was all dried now.\n\nThe wolf walked over to his rarely used wardrobe and opened it. From within he produced a black denim kilt with silver snaps and a black leather vest. He also brought out a pair of slightly scuffed black leather high-top boots. “If you had arms and paws you would be polishing these before we went out,” he said matter-of-factly.\n\n“Please allow me, sir?” Ristin asked as he moved over and used his arm-stump fur to start buffing and cleaning them before giving them a final sweep with his tail “Did that help sir?”\n\n“Well, it isn’t a spit and polish job, or a cum and polish job like I really like them having, but it was a good effort.”\n\n“Thank you, sir.” The raccoon smiled broadly, beaming at the praise from his lovely master.\n\nWhitehair put on the kilt and vest, then he laced the boots over his digitigrade paws. “You and rag will wear collars and nothing else,” the wolf said then added, “We will have to keep both of you on leashes, of course.” He produced two leather leashed from the wardrobe and laid them out on the bed. The wolf then opened his BDSM toy chest and pulled out a plain black nylon collar. He affixed the collar around Ristin’s neck then attached one of the leashed to it.\n\n“I dare not put a full slave collar on you, boi. If I did, then it would be an instant legal contract between us and I might not be able to bring myself to ever remove it. I have some temporary slave collars, but from your request, I am guessing you would rather pretend you were just a feral animal on a walk, not a slave being made to act like a feral animal. Am I right, boi?”\n\nRistin nodded, not sure if he should talk or not in this role. He then decided that he might as well until told otherwise and replied, “Yes, keeper,” switching to the pet-play term for a pet owner instead of a slave master. “And after I get my cyber restored I would still like to visit you, keeper.”\n\nThe wolf smiled. “I am sure you will always be welcome to visit, though if I had my way, I’d probably snap a collar on you and your mate and add you two to my permanent stock.” The wolf chuckled and sighed, “But enough of such silly dreams right now. We have some rules to discuss.”\n\n“That is a very tempting offer, keeper. If my beloved rat was willing I think we would agree to be yours,” said the pet-like raccoon on Whitehair’s leash. “What rules keeper?” \n\n“First, once we set foot outside, you are to only make feral sounds unless it is an emergency. Second, I don’t care what the normal protocol is, if you must address me, use Master or sir, even when in pet mode. Third, while we are out on this walk, you must do everything like a feral. If you eat, drink, pee, potty, or get fucked, you are to keep in feral mode. Is all of that clear?”\n\n“Yes, Master,” Ristin agreed.\n\n“Good. Now practice being feral by sniffing my tailhole and licking it.” Whitehair climbed onto his bed on his hands and knees then squatted backwards almost like Yergi when he was trying to force his glued hole open.\n\nRistin crawled over, stuck his nose near the wolf-butt and snuffed, then licked it again and again. He looked just like an animal while doing it, but was grateful his master’s bum was freshly washed as he licked it. Whitehair moaned with pleasure, his cock swelling instantly in his sheath. It felt so good to have the raccoon rimming him that he even squirted a couple of jets of precum inside of his sheath.\n\nPlaying as a feral, Ristin was free to bend the orders so he crawled around Whitehair’s leg and under his belly so that can could sniff at the swelling member and lick the tip too as it presented itself at the mouth of the wolf’s sheath. He knew that a real feral would be interested in the new scents like that and wanted to play it for all it was worth.\n\nWhitehair laughed and rolled away from the raccoon, landing on his back on the bed. “Aren’t you a playful little pet coon?” he asked, then he grabbed Ristin and went to bring him up to lick the coon’s muzzle, but the leash caught on the wolf’s boot and stopped him halfway there.\n\nThe raccoon strained against the leash to reach then made playful whimpers when he couldn’t, which caused Whitehair to start laughing. Just then Foltchaín came into the room, carrying Yergi, who even with his missing limbs was a bit heavy for the petite sheep with the grotesquely distended stomach. She set him down and looked at Whitehair and Ristin on the bed. “I think this is the first time I have ever seen you wearing this much clothing, Master Whitehair,” she said.\n\nThe wolf sat up still laughing. He unhooked the leash from his boot then climbed to his feet and walked over to his nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a locked metal box. He rotated the combination then popped the box open. Within were a few sealed syringes and a couple of vials of chemicals. One of which was a strong local painkiller that he used to fill one of the syringes.\n\n“Rag, I want you to lay on your back at the foot of the bed,” Whitehair growled.\n\nYergi couldn’t think of what he might have done wrong. He was almost in tears again as he frantically tried to think of what he was about to get punished for, but the mutilated lion dared not disobey the wolf and make him any madder so he did as he was told as quickly as his stumps would let him.\n\nWhitehair started with Yergi’s hind stumps, sticking the needle in and injecting him with one quarter of the dose per stump. When he was done he put the lid back on the syringe and then tossed it into the garbage. “Be careful when you empty that out later,” Whitehair warned Foltchaín, then he took the second leash and affixed it to Yergi’s permanent metal slave collar.\n\n“So what is this all about now, Master Whitehair,” Foltchaín asked.\n\n“Ristin wants to be taken to Feral Park on a walk and I have decided that the rag has been performing well, so I gave him locals so that it wont be torture for him to walk there and back. It is his treat for licking you clean and eating your mess from the hall floor.”\n\n“So you want me to stay here and keep cleaning while you three are gone?”\n\n“No, you silly girl, I want you to come with us. Put on your dress, take a leash, and come to the park with us.”\n\n“Oh my Goddess! That is so... so... mundane! Except that they aren’t really feral pets. Oh, Master Whitehair, I love it!”\n\nThe wolf handed Foltchaín Ristin’s leash then he took hold of Yergi’s leash. “Act like you are a feral, rag, and enjoy your reward.”\n\nYergi rolled onto his stomach and then carefully got up on his four stumps. For the first time since his amputations he wasn’t in total agony all over. His tongue, mouth, and crotch still hurt immensely, and he still desperately needed to potty, but the difference in pain was so much that he almost didn’t care about the rest of it. Even though the break form the pain was the best reward Yergi could think of, save for restoration of his parts, which he knew wasn’t going to happen, he also thought that the trip to Feral Park might be fun. He hadn’t been there since he was a cub.\n\nMemories of that last time over fifteen years in his past flooded the mutilated lion. His grandmother had last taken him to the park when he was around 11 or 12 years old. He had a wonderful time watching people with their pets and then he saw a man walking a pet that wasn’t a feral at all. The “pet” was wearing strange leather cloths that forced him to walk on his hands and knees, and he was acting like a feral, but he was obviously a regular person. The pet even went over to a tree and raised his leg and peed on it like a feral animal would.\n\nFor years after seeing that, Yergi had fantasizing about what it would have been like to have been treated like a feral animal, under the control of someone else. He even decided that was what he wanted to have happen when he grew up. But then Yergi’s parents were killed in a train wreck. Not six months later, his Grandmother -- who he had been sent to live with after losing his parents -- passed away. Yergi had spent the rest of his teenage years bounced from one foster family to another until he turned sixteen and was just dumped onto the streets by social services.\n\nHe had forgotten these childhood desires after loosing his grandmother. Now he was living those dreams from his youth, but not in the way he had always fantasized them coming true. Having these long-lost memories come flooding back to him left Yergi stunned, confused, and physically shaking. It was his sudden realization that Whitehair had tugged on his leash that snapped him back into the here and now. Quickly he shuffled after the wolf, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on his face at how Fate had finally given him the wish he had forgotten so long ago.\n\nAt the end of his leash, Ristin bounded down beside his fellow ‘feral’ and sniffed the lion’s butt, partly to get him used to it so he wouldn’t get himself in trouble when the real ferals did it and partly to get a good look at the lion’s stumped cock. He gave that a sniff and a sneaky lick before walking to the lady’s side, crawling under her dress and nuzzling her leg.\n\nThey all went downstairs and out through Whitehair’s office. Outside they stood beside the streets of the industrial section which, many long years ago, had been an upscale residential section. It had grown to be late afternoon but there were still several hours of sunlight left.\n\nIt was hard for Ristin to believe that just that morning he had walked, or at least stumbled, along these very streets as a whole person and now hours later he was without his cyber and being walked like a pet through the same area. Like Yergi, he wore an amused and happy expression.\n\nWhitehair altered his voice and put on a faux British accent, speaking to Foltchaín about common, mundane things. She answered back in her native Irish accent until she couldn’t keep it up any longer and broke out laughing.\n\n“Fuck me, Master Whitehair! How do mundane people say these things for hours on end?”\n\nThe old wolf smiled. “For some people, that is all life is for them. When I am feeling a little more full of myself than normal, I tend to think of them as the historically insignificant. They aren’t like the four of us.”\n\nRistin had wondered how the wolf thought of him, until the wolf said the four of them. He grinned widely at that but said nothing, and just kept prancing along with his head and tail high like a proud pedigree pet being walked by a fine lady. The clip-clop of his metal-capped stumps on the sidewalk was the only sound he made.\n\n“The four of us?” Yergi thought to himself as they walked towards the park. His master and tormentor had actually referred to him as something of a higher station than the common person, while at the same time telling him that he was barely worthy of being a rag. Yergi had no idea until then how much contempt Whitehair held for the common person. The lion dared to wonder just how much the two of them were alike and if it was only luck that Whitehair mutilated people for a living instead of becoming a murder like he had.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "
The Erotic Adventures of Whitehair:
Yergi’s Punishment
Chapter 05: Clean Out & Clean Up


Whitehair stood in the steaming hot shower pissing on his amputee slavboi’s artificial vagina.  Ristin hissed in pain from the stinging sensation of the wolf’s urine in the three wounds where the slivers had been.  Whitehair had been right; the cuntboi’s urethra was the most sensitive and the piss stung nearly as bad as the sliver itself had.

The door opened and Foltchaín weakly staggered into the bathroom.  Her stomach was distended and her expression was one of total misery.  Whitehair was certain that if it weren’t for the concoction she had drank before going out to feast in his small garden area that she would probably be vomiting by now.  It reminded him of a demonstration he had seen at a BDSM convention on another world.  

The workshop was called “raunch” and it involved a dominant force-feeding the submissive on stage some of the nastiest and revolting foods that they could think of.  Though excrement hadn’t been on the menu, the submissive was given food items that he was allergic to.  All of this was to induce the submissive to vomit, which was then force fed to him again.  The wolf’s own companion was not only disgusted but emotionally disturbed by the display and they ended up leaving the demonstration before it was over.

The fact that the submissive on stage had enjoyed the activity was one of the wolf’s early lessons that just because he thought something was disgusting and even appalling, that there were people out there that enjoyed it.  Thinking back, he realized that it was because of this that he could now stomach watching and even ordering people like Foltchaín to eat shit.

As Whitehair finished pissing on Ristin’s cunt, Yergi awkwardly made his way into the bathroom as well.  The mutilated lion didn’t look so much as if he was going to be sick, but it was apparent that his recently amputated stumps were causing him so much pain that he was on the edge of passing out.  Whitehair also noted that although Foltchaín and Yergi were both in need of a good shampoo Yergi had actually done a good job of cleaning the sheep’s shit form her wool and skin.

“We... we ate it all, Master Whitehair,” Foltchaín weakly said.  “Your floor is nice and clean again.”  She dropped to her knees and moaned as she inadvertently leaked a bit more scat from her still loose and aching ass.  Separating herself from Whitehair’s knot had not only caused numerous micro-tears in her anal ring but it had traumatised her sphincter and for the time being she couldn’t keep it closed.

Whitehair handed Foltchaín the enema nozzle and the hand shower head.  “Clean yourself up inside and out, then clean up the rag.”

“Thank you, Master Whitehair,” she said, grateful that she could empty the rest of the mess form her bowels without having to try to eat it again.  In the hall, following her orders, Yergi had eaten most of the large pile of mess she had made.

Whitehair turned to Ristin and asked, “Does my coon want to go into the tub again and watch her clean out, or would you rather dry off and go back to the sitting room?”

“I would like to watch please?” he asked, partly out of reluctance to be alone again and partly to stay with his two lovely masters.

Whitehair nodded and adjusted the temperature on the tub, then opened the lid.  He lifted Ristin into the deep tub, then for his second time that day the wolf climbed into the steaming hot water.  He patted Ristin’s head and then shifted himself so that he would have a good view of the sheep as she filled her bowels with hot water.

Foltchaín wasted no time in putting the enema hose up her ass.  She increased the pressure and then relaxed just enough that she could hold the nozzle in place with her ass cheeks and still let the water and her slimy yellow slurry of shit flow back out of her stretched and abused pucker.  

Yergi didn’t know what to do and was so afraid of being punished that he shuffled over to Foltchaín and tried to lick up her mess as it flowed onto the floor and down the grate.  The warm water and slimy yellow mess was impossible for him to keep up with, though every now and then more solid chunks of excrement plopped out and Yergi forced himself to lap those up, hoping it would be enough to keep his master’s wrath at bay.

Ristin paddled closer to his master then squeezed into his lap.  The steaming hot water stung his wounds but also felt good in a way.  “The rag is doing much better,” he observed and smiled.  Earlier he had seen the mutilated lion obediently cleaning Foltchaín and now he was trying to serve without needing to be ordered.

Ristin lowered his voice and commented, “Eating the shit seems to have agreed with the rag, Master.  He almost looks happy and adjusted to his new role.  Maybe this is is how he could serve, sir?  Crawling about the floor of a public toilet cleaning up after the free people?”

“When I put him up for sale, I will definitely list this as one of his more useful skills, but watching him eat her shit and the piles of my old shit outside has made me realize that I would enjoy having a toilet slave for a time.  I might keep him longer than I planned before I sell him.  Of course,” the wolf kissed the top of Ristin’s head, “You will still get to be my urinal slave even if I make him my toilet slave.  And you shall use him too, whenever you need to pee or potty.”

Ristin squirmed in Whitehair’s lap at the thought of making someone else eat his shit; he was still far from comfortable with the idea.  “He can have my pee, sir,” the raccoon said carefully calculating his next words so as to not appear to be unwilling to comply with his new master’s wishes, “But I would enjoy getting to poo in your garden like a pet feral, if that is okay?”  The raccoon was hoping to find a way that he didn’t have to use Yergi’s face as a toilet.

Whitehair chuckled.  “Oh, I see.  You like the thought of Foltchaín eating your shit much better than the rag eating it.”

“Well, if she wants it, I guess that is okay.”  Ristin was uncomfortable with the idea of anyone having to eat his waste but at the same time he wanted to please Foltchaín and he knew how much she seemed to enjoy eating the wolf’s shit.  The mental image of himself in her arms, helpless to stop her from using him however she wished, even as a living food dispenser, filled his thoughts for a moment.  Ristin admitted to himself it was not an entirely unpleasant prospect, the pleasant tingling of sexual arousal coming from between his hind stumps.  There was something about Foltchaín that made him willing to be used like that, no matter how much the thought of her eating his shit disturbed him.

“Any resident or guest in my house who has to defecate, unless there is a toilet slave in the dungeon, either uses the garden or they go outside in the street and risk getting arrested.  Foltchaín getting to clean out in the shower is a very rare treat that almost never happens.  Usually when someone gets an enema it is done in the outside shower and they have to release in the garden where she eventually gets to eat it.”

“Thank you for keeping me clean, Master.  It does mean a lot to me to be clean and that you are giving me special privileges, sir.”

“I have grown very fond of you, much quicker than this old mutt usually develops affection for anyone.  Perhaps it is because you remind me of someone special from my past, though he wasn’t an amputee like you are.  Still, you two share a remarkable amount of characteristics.”

The raccoon stood on his stumps on Whitehair’s lap and reached up out of the water to nuzzle the kind old wolf’s neck.  Whitehair blushed though his fur and licked Ristin on the nose, without saying a word.

Foltchaín removed the hose and bore down, spraying little more than discolored water from her bowels this time.  She took several deep breaths and then sprayed more water from her ass.  Everything went easily down the drain so there was nothing more for Yergi to lick up for the time being.

“Please, Master Whitehair, may I do more?” Foltchaín asked.

The wolf nodded.

Foltchaín set the hand sprayer aside so that the shower was no longer spraying on her then she increased the shower’s temperature until it was so hot that it was mildly uncomfortable against the skin of her hands.  She then decreased the pressure on the enema hose so that when she held the quarter-inch hose directly up towards the ceiling, the plume of water only shot up about eighteen inches.  This time when she went to put the host back up her ass she drew in her breath with a sharp hiss as the hot water stung her ass and pussy.  Once the hose was inside, her sphincter involuntarily struggled to close around it to help prevent the hot water from burning her external skin further.

The sheep was panting in short sharp breaths as the hot water began to fill her bowels.  She had the water much hotter than what was medically considered safe, but she had been taught about the risks of an enema that hot by Whitehair when she watched him doing the same thing to himself once.  She discovered that she, like the wolf, really enjoyed the extreme sensations caused by the insanely hot water, although being a female she didn’t have a prostate glad for it to stimulate and cause her to drip precum all over like he did.

As the hot water continued to fill Foltchaín’s intestines a massive cramp hit.  She struggled against the urge to rip the hose out and let the hot water spray all over the floor, forcing herself to slowly count backwards from ten to zero.  By the time she hit three the cramps had stopped and again she could relax and enjoy the persistent flow of water.  On a normal day she could take a full gallon of water inside of her at once, but she wasn’t empty from her initial enema and she also knew that there was still a large amount of shit deep inside of her.

The large volume of water making Foltchaín’s intestines swell up  compounded with her swollen, bloated stomach from eating too much out in the yard made the sheep look like she was pregnant.  She felt like she was going to explode and groaned in pain as she struggled to continue taking more of the hot water into her, despite the fact that she was so bloated that she was having trouble breathing.  Weakly she reached behind her and pulled the enema hose out of her ass, wincing in pain as the spray of hot water from it stung against her skin.  She tossed the hose aside and with shaking hands turned the water temperature back down.

“How long, Master Whitehair?” she gasped out, straining to hold back tears as she fought against her body’s desperate urges to empty her bowels.

Whitehair looked up at the clock on the wall.  “If you can keep from leaking any of it, you can release in about ten minutes.  Otherwise you have to hold it for twice as long and then you’ll get another one afterwards.”

Foltchaín moaned and looked up at Whitehair with a mixture of agony and disbelief.  “M-master Whitehair?  Have I displeased you somehow?”

The wolf grinned, his tail lazily wagging under the surface of the water in the hot tub.  “Not at all.  That is why I am rewarding you with the chance to show off your self-control and obedience for me.”

“Some reward,” she thought to herself.  Aloud she replied, “Thank you, Master Whitehair.”

“Now turn your ass towards us so that I can observe that you don’t leak.”

Foltchaín carefully turned around so that her upturned ass and pussy were clearly visible and pointed towards the hot tub.  Her pussy lips, anal pucker, and the cheeks of her ass were all bright red from the burning hot water.  Moving to give her master the view he requested had nearly caused her to leak some of her contents, but she managed to keep all but a couple of drops of the hot water inside of her.

Ristin noted that with Foltchaín’s ass being presented for Whitehair as it was that if she happened to loose control that it would be possible for him and his master to be sprayed with the hot water she had inside or her and maybe even splattered with her filth.  The prospect did not please him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.  He briefly considered ducking under the water if the sheep lost control, but decided that on the other stump he was already in a bath.  If a sheep shit-spray did happen and drench him and his wolf master then they were in just the right place to be cleaned afterwards.  And as he reflected on it, the stumpy raccoon was also unsure if he could get out of the bath under his own power.  The more he thought about it the more he realized that he couldn’t have and that this was yet another thing we was completely dependant upon others for.

Whitehair looked at Yergi and then commanded, “Rag, come around over here and lick her clean so I can see if she leaks anything.”

Foltchaín clenched her fists in concentration as she struggled to hold her abused ass closed.  It took even more effort to keep from leaking as Yergi’s tongue started to work her over, especially as he licked against her pussy, making her shiver with pleasure even in spite of how much pain she was feeling from being so bloated.

“I wonder if she’ll make it?” Ristin mused aloud, then looked about trying to spot a clock or timepiece.  Like everything else in the Japanese bath, the clock was designed to blend in and look natural at first glance.  Looking more closely the raccoon saw that the earth-tone image painted on the face of the clock was of a canine furson on all fours with his tail raised invitingly.  His pucker, which was positioned in the exact center for the clock’s arms to attach to the works, was slightly open and a line of cum trailed from it down over his low-hanging ball sack.  One raised eyebrow was the raccoon’s response to spotting that detail.  Then he realised this room was not just a washroom like in a normal house, but doubled as a stage for performing extreme and messy fetishes like the sheep’s enema-play they were witnessing.    

“I hope not,” Whitehair whispered back, his sheath swelling as he imagined the dire need that Foltchaín was experiencing, savouring the thought of her desperate need for release.  If the wolf hadn’t recently had sex, this was the kind of situation that would have driven him to mount her ass and make sure to stay knotted until she was wailing in agony and pleading for release.  The wolf loved to put submissives into situations of extreme physical sensation, but at the same time he knew that she had damaged herself a bit when she pulled off of his knot and he didn’t want to cause her any real harm.

Foltchaín managed to hold in all but a few more drops of the hot water while Yergi licked her ass and cunt clean.  The mutilated lion did such a thorough job that there was no sign of the sheep’s slight leak when he finished and moved aside so that his master could watch her.

“Rag, don’t you just wish you still had your cock so you could fuck that horny sheep’s hungry cunt?” Whitehair tormented Yergi.

The mutilated lion looked up at his master and nodded sadly.  He would have gladly been willing to eat nothing but shit for the rest of his life if it meant that he could have his cock back, but he knew that even though it was medically possible the court order prevented it.

Time seemed to slow down for Foltchaín.  She couldn’t see the clock from her current position and what to her seemed like it surely was ten minutes wasn’t even half that.  Every few seconds her body tried to convince her to release the massive amount of hot water she had insider her.  Each time it happened, Whitehair could see her anal sphincter start to spasm.  From his own past experiences, he knew exactly what she was going through and it was making him hard inside his sheath thinking about it.

At the nine minute mark Whitehair said to Ristin, “Well, boi, it looks like she is going to make it, unfortunately.”

Foltchaín whimpered at the comment, nonplussed that the wolf was hoping that she would fail so he could punish her further.  She had no idea how much her predicament had aroused him and how close she was to having him jump out of the hot tub and fuck her tailhole a second time.

The last thirty seconds were the worst.  Foltchaín was sure that she wasn’t going to make it and if the room hadn't been so full of steam, Whitehair would have seen that she was starting to leak a little bit.  As it was, the ten minute mark came and went and with a sigh the wolf slowly said, “Turn your ass back to the shower wall and you may release.”

Foltchaín practically spun in place, getting her rear end facing the wall with the shower and enema nozzles.  She squatted down in feral fashion and started to release the still hot water.  She whined and squirmed as the hot water stung against her sensitive asshole, but squatting like she was the burning liquid wasn’t torturing her pussy lips.  

What came out was only slightly discolored water and barely a quart in volume.  Foltchaín moaned and started massaging her distended stomach.  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, a slight hint of panic in her voice.

In a soothing voice, Whitehair replied, “Just relax and don’t force it.  Stand all the way up, then bend over and touch your hooves, then straighten back up and lean backwards a bit.  After that you should feel the urge to go again.”

Foltchaín did as she was told , leaking a little more water when she bent over.  Just as the wolf had said, once she was upright she felt a gurgling inside of her and suddenly the urge to go was back, even more intense than it had been while she was waiting for the ten minutes that felt like ten hours to pass.  Quickly she squatted back down and took a deep breath and relaxed.

Foltchaín bleated in pain as another massive amount of her own filth practically exploded out of her butt, splattering against the floor and the back wall.  This was much darker in color, nearly solid, and almost as large was Whitehair’s knot had been.  The stench that accompanied it was radically different than the equally foul stench that had come from her yellow sludge.

The smell alone was enough to cause Yergi to hesitate doing his duty and eating it, but only for a moment.  His fear of further punishment overcame the revulsion and he began to try to chew the largest part of her explosive expulsion.  It was quite solid and for the toothless lion is was actually difficult to chew, like when we was trying to eat the piece of grizzle whitehair had spat on the floor for him.  Not only that but there were sharp shards poking against the inside of his abused muzzle.  He recognized them as bits of shattered bone and realized that at one point Foltchaín must have tried to actually digest meat.

Whitehair heard the crunching sound of the brittle bones as Yergi struggled to eat the partially digested animal without the benefit of teeth.  The wolf raised his eyebrow at Foltchaín.  “What were you tyring to eat?”

“A feral lizard that I had discovered in my garden when I got back from my trip,” Foltchaín replied sheepishly.

“Looks and smells like you couldn’t digest it properly.”

“No, Master Whitehair.”

“Very well.  Clean up after yourself and make sure you are well rinsed inside, then I want you and the rag cleaned up.”

“Yes, Master Whitehair.”

“Rag, you don’t have to lick up any more of her shit for now,” Whitehair said, then he licked Ristin’s nose again.  “You are such a cute coon, boi.”

“You’re a kind and handsome wolf, sir”

Whitehair smiled but his eyes betrayed the deep sadness that he always tried to hide.  In an even softer voice he offered, “Is there anything that you would enjoy doing after we are all cleaned up and dried off?”

Ristin turned his head and watched the lion and the sheep “Watching them is nice, sir,” he said, “And I do have one idea; something my beloved rat won’t let me do.  You and Foltchaín could take the rag and I for walkies to a pet park?” His tail waged in the water at the thought. “Do you think people made into pets like us would be okay there?  The people that took off my arms and legs made me live as a pet-slave, and playing at being a feral pet is something I miss, sir.”  As he finished he sat in Whitehair’s lap in the water and leaned back against the wolf’s furry chest to watch Foltchaín and the refreshingly obedient rag washing.

Whitehair pondered Ristin’s request for a few minutes and then nodded.  “I think we can take you to the park.  It is going to be a lot more torture for rag to walk that much on his stumps, this being the first day after the amputations and all.”

“Oh yes, I hadn’t thought of that,” Ristin said, his rump resting against the wolf’s sheath as the raccoon continued to watch the others.  “I wouldn’t want the rag to feel punished, not after he’s started obeying.”

“Well, I could give him anti-pain injections into each of his four stumps.  Frynge has insured me that the surgery could withstand taking him on a one mile forced march after the first night’s healing, and by the second day they would be able to be walked on for eight hours straight with no damage, just an unbelievable amount of pain.”

Ristin nodded.  “With the pain meds it would be almost like a reward, and it looks like he has earned some mercy, sir.”

“Yes, I think he has.”  Whitehair smiled as he watched Foltchaín shampoo and thoroughly scrub Yergi from head to tail.  The wolf noticed that she spent a lot of time scrubbing his glued shut pucker and examining the wound where his penis had been cut off.  The wolf whispered to Ristin, “Look at her.  She wants him to fuck her so bad that she can feel him inside of her, but it just isn’t possible.”

“He could wear a strapon?” Ristin suggested, “Or have a dildo tied to a wrist stump?”

“Foltchaín and I both prefer the real thing, sweetie.  I might put toys on his wrist stumps and have him service you and her, but I know that when she has a cock in her, she wants it to squirt, just like I do.”

“Now I wish I had one so I could make her happy,” Ristin said and smiled.  He loved being a cuntboy but there were rare moments of regret like this one.  

“How come you haven’t asked Frynge to make you one that you could interchange with your clit?”  I bet he could make it so that your urethra routed correctly and that an artificial scrotum could even be made to cover the rest of your pussy while you wore it so that you looked completely male.  Or, if maybe if you preferred to look herm, he could insert the artificial testicles in your body cavity so you could be both.”

The raccoon chuckled.  “It’s a great idea but I’d probably get it cut off.  I never really liked having a cock and balls, except for rare occasions.  I wasn’t sad to lose it and be a nullo, and when I got rebuilt I was very happy to be a cuntboy.  But come to think of it...” he leaned to the side and slipped onto his back in the water, floating there showing Whitehair his pussy.  The little splinter-wounds were still visible but not bleeding or causing the raccoon any apparent discomfort at the moment.

“I do have a nice socket for it.”  Mentally, Ristin sent the commands to his cubernetics to open the secret panel covering the attachment socket.  When he had first been made a cuntboi, Frynge had fitted him with a concealable port to mount a cybernetic male member.  His cybernetics could support anything from a simple dildo with tactile feedback up to a fully functional synthetic cock and balls.  But Ristin had never been tempted to get such a device fitted and even if he had been tempted, he had not been in any position to have afforded it.  In fact, this was the first time since he had been made a cuntboi that he had even show anyone that the adapter port existed.  His mate didn’t even know about it.  

Whitehair did something that he almost never did with a real female; he licked Ristin’s clitoris several times, watching the coon squirm with enhanced pleasure.  “Thank you for sharing the information about your secret port with me.”

With a mental command Ristin ordered the port to close.  The synthetic skin and fur around it closed leaving no visual sign of the concealed cock-socket.  He did not want anyone else to know about his little secret and wasn’t even sure why he let his new master know.

Whitehair climbed out of the tub and then turned back and gently lifted Ristin from the hot water.  He lowered the lid and turned the heater off, then carried Ristin over to the full body dryer and set the warm air to dry and fluff the two of them up while Foltchaín finished rinsing off Yergi and was shampooing her own white wool.

One the wolf and raccoon were both dry he announced, “Foltchaín, when you two are done, I want you to find your dress and then come into my bedroom.  I have something special planned for my little coon here.”

“Something special that I need my dress for? Awwww.  Then it’s not more fucking?”

The wolf chuckled.  If only she male he would probably buy her as his own slave.  It was a real problem for him to find slavebois with enough libido to keep up with him for more than a day or two.  “No, this isn’t technically something sexual, though I know a few kinky people that would cum themselves from it.”

“I will be trying my best to, sir and ma’am,” Ristin said with a naughty grin from his perch in the wolf’s arms.

Whitehair chuckled and carried Ristin to his bedroom where he laid the raccoon out on the bed.  The white rabbit fur was still stained with cum and pee form their fun earlier that morning, but it was all dried now.

The wolf walked over to his rarely used wardrobe and opened it.  From within he produced a black denim kilt with silver snaps and a black leather vest.  He also brought out a pair of slightly scuffed black leather high-top boots.  “If you had arms and paws you would be polishing these before we went out,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Please allow me, sir?” Ristin asked as he moved over and used his arm-stump fur to start buffing and cleaning them before giving them a final sweep with his tail “Did that help sir?”

“Well, it isn’t a spit and polish job, or a cum and polish job like I really like them having, but it was a good effort.”

“Thank you, sir.”  The raccoon smiled broadly, beaming at the praise from his lovely master.

Whitehair put on the kilt and vest, then he laced the boots over his digitigrade paws.  “You and rag will wear collars and nothing else,” the wolf said then added, “We will have to keep both of you on leashes, of course.”  He produced two leather leashed from the wardrobe and laid them out on the bed.  The wolf then opened his BDSM toy chest and pulled out a plain black nylon collar.  He affixed the collar around Ristin’s neck then attached one of the leashed to it.

“I dare not put a full slave collar on you, boi.  If I did, then it would be an instant legal contract between us and I might not be able to bring myself to ever remove it.  I have some temporary slave collars, but from your request, I am guessing you would rather pretend you were just a feral animal on a walk, not a slave being made to act like a feral animal.  Am I right, boi?”

Ristin nodded, not sure if he should talk or not in this role.  He then decided that he might as well until told otherwise and replied, “Yes, keeper,” switching to the pet-play term for a pet owner instead of a slave master.  “And after I get my cyber restored I would still like to visit you, keeper.”

The wolf smiled.  “I am sure you will always be welcome to visit, though if I had my way, I’d probably snap a collar on you and your mate and add you two to my permanent stock.”  The wolf chuckled and sighed, “But enough of such silly dreams right now.  We have some rules to discuss.”

“That is a very tempting offer, keeper.  If my beloved rat was willing I think we would agree to be yours,” said the pet-like raccoon on Whitehair’s leash.  “What rules keeper?”

“First, once we set foot outside, you are to only make feral sounds unless it is an emergency.  Second, I don’t care what the normal protocol is, if you must address me, use Master or sir, even when in pet mode.  Third, while we are out on this walk, you must do everything like a feral.  If you eat, drink, pee, potty, or get fucked, you are to keep in feral mode.  Is all of that clear?”

“Yes, Master,” Ristin agreed.

“Good.  Now practice being feral by sniffing my tailhole and licking it.”  Whitehair climbed onto his bed on his hands and knees then squatted backwards almost like Yergi when he was trying to force his glued hole open.

Ristin crawled over, stuck his nose near the wolf-butt and snuffed, then licked it again and again.  He looked just like an animal while doing it, but was grateful his master’s bum was freshly washed as he licked it.  Whitehair moaned with pleasure, his cock swelling instantly in his sheath.  It felt so good to have the raccoon rimming him that he even squirted a couple of jets of precum inside of his sheath.

Playing as a feral, Ristin was free to bend the orders so he crawled around Whitehair’s leg and under his belly so that can could sniff at the swelling member and lick the tip too as it presented itself at the mouth of the wolf’s sheath.  He knew that a real feral would be interested in the new scents like that and wanted to play it for all it was worth.

Whitehair laughed and rolled away from the raccoon, landing on his back on the bed.  “Aren’t you a playful little pet coon?” he asked, then he grabbed Ristin and went to bring him up to lick the coon’s muzzle, but the leash caught on the wolf’s boot and stopped him halfway there.

The raccoon strained against the leash to reach then made playful whimpers when he couldn’t, which caused Whitehair to start laughing.  Just then Foltchaín came into the room, carrying Yergi, who even with his missing limbs was a bit heavy for the petite sheep with the grotesquely distended stomach.  She set him down and looked at Whitehair and Ristin on the bed.  “I think this is the first time I have ever seen you wearing this much clothing, Master Whitehair,” she said.

The wolf sat up still laughing.  He unhooked the leash from his boot then climbed to his feet and walked over to his nightstand.  He opened the drawer and pulled out a locked metal box.  He rotated the combination then popped the box open.  Within were a few sealed syringes and a couple of vials of chemicals.  One of which was a strong local painkiller that he used to fill one of the syringes.

“Rag, I want you to lay on your back at the foot of the bed,” Whitehair growled.

Yergi couldn’t think of what he might have done wrong.  He was almost in tears again as he frantically tried to think of what he was about to get punished for, but the mutilated lion dared not disobey the wolf and make him any madder so he did as he was told as quickly as his stumps would let him.

Whitehair started with Yergi’s hind stumps, sticking the needle in and injecting him with one quarter of the dose per stump.  When he was done he put the lid back on the syringe and then tossed it into the garbage.  “Be careful when you empty that out later,” Whitehair warned Foltchaín, then he took the second leash and affixed it to Yergi’s permanent metal slave collar.

“So what is this all about now, Master Whitehair,” Foltchaín asked.

“Ristin wants to be taken to Feral Park on a walk and I have decided that the rag has been performing well, so I gave him locals so that it wont be torture for him to walk there and back.  It is his treat for licking you clean and eating your mess from the hall floor.”

“So you want me to stay here and keep cleaning while you three are gone?”

“No, you silly girl, I want you to come with us.  Put on your dress, take a leash, and come to the park with us.”

“Oh my Goddess!  That is so... so... mundane!  Except that they aren’t really feral pets.  Oh, Master Whitehair, I love it!”

The wolf handed Foltchaín Ristin’s leash then he took hold of Yergi’s leash.  “Act like you are a feral, rag, and enjoy your reward.”

Yergi rolled onto his stomach and then carefully got up on his four stumps.  For the first time since his amputations he wasn’t in total agony all over.  His tongue, mouth, and crotch still hurt immensely, and he still desperately needed to potty, but the difference in pain was so much that he almost didn’t care about the rest of it.  Even though the break form the pain was the best reward Yergi could think of, save for restoration of his parts, which he knew wasn’t going to happen, he also thought that the trip to Feral Park might be fun.  He hadn’t been there since he was a cub.

Memories of that last time over fifteen years in his past flooded the mutilated lion.  His grandmother had last taken him to the park when he was around 11 or 12 years old.  He had a wonderful time watching people with their pets and then he saw a man walking a pet that wasn’t a feral at all.  The “pet” was wearing strange leather cloths that forced him to walk on his hands and knees, and he was acting like a feral, but he was obviously a regular person.  The pet even went over to a tree and raised his leg and peed on it like a feral animal would.

For years after seeing that, Yergi had fantasizing about what it would have been like to have been treated like a feral animal, under the control of someone else.  He even decided that was what he wanted to have happen when he grew up.  But then Yergi’s parents were killed in a train wreck.  Not six months later, his Grandmother -- who he had been sent to live with after losing his parents -- passed away.  Yergi had spent the rest of his teenage years bounced from one foster family to another until he turned sixteen and was just dumped onto the streets by social services.

He had forgotten these childhood desires after loosing his grandmother.  Now he was living those dreams from his youth, but not in the way he had always fantasized them coming true. Having these long-lost memories come flooding back to him left Yergi stunned, confused, and physically shaking.  It was his sudden realization that Whitehair had tugged on his leash that snapped him back into the here and now.  Quickly he shuffled after the wolf, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on his face at how Fate had finally given him the wish he had forgotten so long ago.

At the end of his leash, Ristin bounded down beside his fellow ‘feral’ and sniffed the lion’s butt, partly to get him used to it so he wouldn’t get himself in trouble when the real ferals did it and partly to get a good look at the lion’s stumped cock.  He gave that a sniff and a sneaky lick before walking to the lady’s side, crawling under her dress and nuzzling her leg.

They all went downstairs and out through Whitehair’s office.  Outside they stood beside the streets of the industrial section which, many long years ago, had been an upscale residential section.  It had grown to be late afternoon but there were still several hours of sunlight left.

It was hard for Ristin to believe that just that morning he had walked, or at least stumbled, along these very streets as a whole person and now hours later he was without his cyber and being walked like a pet through the same area.  Like Yergi, he wore an amused and happy expression.

Whitehair altered his voice and put on a faux British accent, speaking to Foltchaín about common, mundane things.  She answered back in her native Irish accent until she couldn’t keep it up any longer and broke out laughing.

“Fuck me, Master Whitehair!  How do mundane people say these things for hours on end?”

The old wolf smiled.  “For some people, that is all life is for them.  When I am feeling a little more full of myself than normal, I tend to think of them as the historically insignificant.  They aren’t like the four of us.”

Ristin had wondered how the wolf thought of him, until the wolf said the four of them.  He grinned widely at that but said nothing, and just kept prancing along with his head and tail high like a proud pedigree pet being walked by a fine lady.  The clip-clop of his metal-capped stumps on the sidewalk was the only sound he made.

“The four of us?” Yergi thought to himself as they walked towards the park.  His master and tormentor had actually referred to him as something of a higher station than the common person, while at the same time telling him that he was barely worthy of being a rag.  Yergi had no idea until then how much contempt Whitehair held for the common person.  The lion dared to wonder just how much the two of them were alike and if it was only luck that Whitehair mutilated people for a living instead of becoming a murder like he had.

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