[b][u][center]A Pushy Neighbor Part 2 For BlazingPelt By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Jake was halfway between sleeping and waking, enough to know that he was sucking on his ‘neighbor’s’ cock in his sleep, but not enough to care just yet. The cat groaned in that half-awake state, starting to slide further and further towards wakefulness as he became more aware of the pressure in his mouth and throat, more conscious of the musk that was flooding down his nose every time that the hips in front of him slammed that hot, thick dick down his throat. It was as hot and bitter as it always was, but he was more used to it than he had been all that time ago. In that sleepy state, it was easy for Jake to dream-remember back to those early days, back when Damien just popped over for a bit of a visit, fucked with his head, and then went on to fuck with others. Presumably, at least. He didn’t exactly have a chance to talk to the hellhound about his social life. But over the past few weeks, Damien had started moving more and more into his house, going from waking him up in the morning and leaving to staying around all day, and then staying around all night. For all intents and purposes, the hellhound was more of a roommate than a neighbor, and the more he stuck around, the more the house started to smell of dog and cock. And the more that the hellhound marked the house, the more he marked Jake, too. The gray cat groaned under his breath, feeling the morning starting to pull him towards wakefulness that he didn’t want. It was getting stronger, too, pushing at him, grabbing him and pulling him towards being all the way awake. He whimpered, trying to pull himself back to sleep, but the dream wouldn’t let him, and neither would the cock in his mouth. “Mmmph…mmmph!” Jake started gagging as the thick cock started pounding down his throat, pushing past any gag reflex he might have once had and filling up his throat with ease. He groaned as he swallowed around it, desperate for air, and all he got for his trouble was a grunt and groan from above as Damien held him down. “Almost…there, you…you bitch…take it…take it!” And just like that, the hellhound’s load was pouring down his throat, flooding down his neck and into his gut. It was a hot, thick load, too, one that felt more like a sludge-slime blast than any sort of cum shot. He was used to it, swallowing it down as quick as he could so that he didn’t have to deal with it for long. After clearing his mouth and throat of all remaining hound seed, Jake was finally able to pull back, panting as he rubbed his lips on the back of his hand. Damien chuckled. “Good breakfast snack, bitch?” The cat looked up at the master that had taken over his life. The hound was a big guy, more than seven feet tall, and the canine had the muscles to go along with the big, powerful frame. It was like looking at one of the big thugs that ran the gyms down on fifth street. One just knew that they’d get pounded into the dust if they complained about anything, so one just didn’t do that. Damien ruffled his own shaggy, black fur, rolling to the side. A sweat stain was left in the sheets where the hellhound had been laying, his musk permeating the mattress and the blankets as he got to his feet. The fact that the dog’s paws left their own damp footprints on the wooden floorboards didn’t help, either. Yet, for all his annoyance at the chores and maintenance, Jake couldn’t summon any real annoyance at the smell. He should have. He could have, once, back when Damien had moved in, but these days… These days, it was enough to get his dick twitching, and not just because of the morning hour. Groaning, he got out of bed as the hellhound started making his way to the hallway. Usually, Jake would strip the bed, get the blankets into the wash, and then shower before going down to make breakfast for the two of them. This time, things were different. “Hey, slut. Come here.” “Huh?” “Come. Here.” The cat shivered at the different tone in the hellhound’s voice. He knew better than to question the other male, and quickly left the bed as it was, moving to the doorway to the hallway and kneeling down. “Yes, master?” “Leave the bed the way it is today.” “…Okay, master.” It was one of the ways that he actually gave himself some comfort at the end of the day, allowing himself to be in something clean, but he knew better than to question the master’s orders. There was no way that he could do that without having it come back to bite him in the ass. But at the same time, he would miss the feeling of clean sheets, no matter how temporary it was with Damien living in the house. “Anything else, Master?” “Don’t wash this morning.” That…that was very different, and it left the cat blushing at the mere thought of it. He had always been allowed to wash in the morning, though he was half-sure that it was because Damien liked reestablishing the whole ‘marking the slut’ thing that he did every day. Jake, on the other hand, liked the feeling of being able to get the sweat and cum out of his fur, being able to look good for the start of the day, even if he was defiled over the course of it. He had been able to savor it, keeping it part of his day, keeping himself clean if only for a little bit. And the idea of losing that… He shivered, not sure if he hated it or…or if some part of him liked the idea of being pushed that much further, of being rendered that much less than the hellhound in front of him. If he skipped the shower, he’d just get muskier and muskier, drippier and wet and a bit slimy from all the stuff happening to him. It made his dick twitch a few times at the thought. “Yes, master.” “Good. Now, get everything ready up here for later. Get the toys out, get the ropes ready. And then come downstairs and give me something to eat.” “Yes, master.” The hellhound walked away as Jake tried to find something to explain what was happening. He should have been able to fight for something that he treasured that much, right? Why couldn’t he argue for the chance to keep being clean for a bit longer? Had Damien changed him that much? He looked at the mirror on the side wall as he stood up, blushing as he looked over his chest and his backside, shaking his head at the sheer gains in size that had accompanied the last few weeks. [i]I look like a whore back here,[/i] he thought, running his hand along the new curves of his ass. [i]None of my pants fit anymore…[/i] Not that he was allowed to wear anything around the house but the collar around his neck. His hand drifted towards it just by thinking about it, and his cheeks burned as he clasped his hands around the tag at the front. It was nothing more than a dick, really, engraved with the words ‘Damien’s Bitch’ along the front, and a contact number on the back. If anyone ever found him while he was wearing it, he’d just get sent back. There was some sort of magic to it, he swore. The fact that his ass was so big now was not the only change, though. He looked at his chest, at the way that his nipples poked through the fur, standing out more than they should on a normal male. He blushed as he cupped his hands under them, half-expecting them to turn into breasts, one day. They hadn’t, thankfully, but this was humiliating enough. He didn’t need them to get worse. The cat looked down at the swollen little pink nubs, then shivered as he realized that he was getting too close to needing to jerk off. He knew that it would feel good, but it would get him in trouble, and he didn’t need more trouble. Getting out the toys and setting them in their proper place, Jake hurriedly made his way downstairs. Just as he expected, the hellhound was sitting at the dining table with his sweaty feet on the table, lazily jerking himself off with one arm behind his head and the other down at his crotch. The fumes of musk coming off of him were almost visible, yet they were still enough to pull at the cat’s cock and get him hard again. “There you are, bitch. What took you so long?” his master asked. “Sorry, I got lost in thought.” “Well, get lost in cooking, instead.” The hellhound pointed towards the stove, where all the stuff for breakfast had already been spread out. Eggs, sausage, bacon. The dreaded bacon, considering that he was ordered to cook naked, but he had started to learn how to make that work. The cat set to work, quickly getting their food made. Most of it went onto a giant platter for the hellhound, while the meager scraps at the end went into a bowl for him. He blushed as he filled it up, knowing what was going to happen as soon as he took it to Damien. And he was right. The hellhound took the plate and threw the bowl to the floor. The only thing that kept it from shattering was the fact that it was plastic, and only the flattened bottom kept it from sliding all over the floor and spilling its contents everywhere. “Eat like the pet you are, bitch.” “Yes, master.” He blushed as he went to all fours, feeling the master’s heels digging into his back as soon as he was down there. It wasn’t the first time that he had been made to eat like this, and he knew that it wouldn’t be the last. It was awkward trying to get his tongue to the eggs and bacon. The sausage had enough substance and heft to it that he could sink his teeth in and sort of nibble it into his mouth like pasta, but the rest of it required a lot of licking to get it into the right position to eat it. He groaned every time that he missed it and had to start over again, his cheeks burning at the way the master humiliated him. Even with that in mind, the worst – best, to some parts of his mind – thing about this was the way that he could still smell the master’s musk, even down here. He could [i]feel[/i] it smothering him beneath the hellhound, feel the way that it was sinking into his fur, dominating him, pushing him to submit and obey that much more with every passing second. Soon, he was panting between his bites, his cock sliding up along his belly, throbbing at the thought of being used by the master again. [i]Mmmph…mmmph…[/i] He tried to shake his head, tried to push the thoughts out of his mind, but there was no way for him to do that. The musk was omnipresent, and considering that half of it was soaked into his fur from the day before, and there had been no chance to wash it out… He was marked, he knew that. He had lived with that for a long time now, and it was still something that left him shivering every time that he thought about it. For so long, he had been a free cat, but in a month, and barely that… Jake had fallen. Fallen hard, and he barely cared that he had. His cock throbbed, his balls churned, and by now, his ass was getting in on the fun by starting to flex and pucker and clench in desperate need for something inside of it. All due to the scent. He was not even halfway down with his breakfast when Damien reached down, pulling at the scruff of the cat’s neck with his toes. Jake gasped as he was yanked back from the bowl, spun around so that his face rested on the edge of Damien’s chair. The canine looked down at him, chuckling, scooting forward until those fat balls rested right against the cat’s nose. “Mmmph…” Jake could do nothing but smell at the sweaty balls, do nothing but sniff at the scent and suck it down into his mind. The pheromones there, the musk, the sweat, it all added up to a mind-blasting, powerful odor that left his cock twitching, his mind nearly blank. All he could do was keep breathing as the dog scritched him between the ears. “You want to suck me off again, boy?” “Mmmph…mm-hmm…” “Then open that mouth, bitch.” Doing as he was told, the cat opened his mouth and allowed the hellhound’s cock to slip right in. Despite having sucked those balls dry just a moment ago, they were full again, and that cock was hard as it had ever been. It slid over his tongue, going down his throat, and he gagged slightly before he got used to the new position. Both hands on his head kept him bobbing up and down, the dog face-fucking him good and hard right there and then. He moaned under his breath, letting it happen, enjoying having it happen, and there was nothing that he could do to stop it. There was a faint reflection in his mind of what he had once been. A cat, not particularly muscular, not particularly curvy, but relatively average in all respects. A decent male, one that had his own place, one that had his own job, someone that was working their way up in the world. That was a faded, shallow comparison to what he was now. Big hipped, curvy, horny, constantly horny for that matter. He was begging for dick just from a sniff of someone else’s balls, and he groaned as he kept sniffing, kept breathing in that sweaty musk. The hellhound’s cock went all the way down his throat, he swore. The thick length was already lodged in the back of his neck, and if he were to take his hands from the chair, he was sure he would be able to feel the bulge in his neck. It was so big, so prominent, he wondered how anyone could ever handle a dick like this. Yet, he did. And he liked it. He moaned as he swallowed around it, clearing the taste of pre from the dick with every thrust, only for it to come back with the next one. Lick, lick, lick went his tongue along the underside of his master’s shaft, some hint of indignity underlying the pleasure that he was forced to feel. Up and down, up and down he licked, trying to keep up the pace, enjoying himself on one level, barely able to take it on another. And his stomach…his stomach felt empty… And yet… He didn’t want food. He wanted cum. He bobbed his head with the master’s encouragement, starting to suck more actively, his cheeks pursing inwards as he sucked away at that shaft. He wanted to milk it, wanted to feel it spurting down his throat, wanted to see what it would do if he gave it his all. His hands moved, sliding between the hellhound’s legs, rubbing his balls. They were so full, so heavy. He needed to… Needed to drain them… His fingers felt damp as he rolled the heavy things between them, realizing that they were soaked with sweat like the rest of the shaggy hellhound. He gagged a bit on the tip of the cock as it thrust too fast for him to handle in his distraction, but he never stopped working, never stopped pushing himself. Suck, suck, suck. He bobbed his head down to the base again, swallowing around it, looking up at the master. As he held himself there, his lips pursing out just a bit, the hellhound looked back at him with what might have been mischievousness. And then… Then he felt it. Jake gagged as he felt the sudden rush of hot, acrid piss rushing down his throat, some of it splashing up towards his tongue. The cat could not have predicted that in a million years, and the old buried instincts threatened to come rising up, the anger at being used trying to come free and declare that he wouldn’t be used like this, not like this, never again. And yet… Yet… He was pulled down again, his instincts buried beneath the scent, and his throat instead started clenching, swallowing, pulling the urine down into his belly. It was a poor substitute for seed, but it was better than nothing. He couldn’t believe himself, but he kept swallowing, sucking down the master’s golden gift. Every little pulse, every little jet of it was something that he had to work to get down, but he still managed it, even as the heat of the piss was so different from the warmth of cum that he was used to settling in his belly. Jake managed to look up at his master, managed to meet his eyes. The hellhound looked down at him in shock, slowly shaking his head as the stream continued, but neither of them were able to look away until Damien’s bladder had completely emptied itself. Then, and only then, did the cat pull back. He coughed, having to swallow hard to get the last few drops of the bad taste out of his mouth, but he managed it. “You took it all.” The hellhound’s voice was too carefully neutral. Jake knew that he had surprised his master, but didn’t have the bravery to capitalize on it. He just nodded, instead. “Yes, master. I did.” “Have you been practicing?” He shook his head. “Just natural talent, eh?” Damien asked. “I suppose so, master.” If the hellhound was surprised, the cat was no less astonished at what he’d done. He knew that he was supposed to obey all the orders that the master gave him, but this had been a brand new one, and not an easy one to obey at that. He felt his stomach, feeling the piss rolling around in there, feeling the rolling heat that he knew was going to give him discomfort later. [i]Did I really just…[/i] There was no denying it. The taste was still in his mouth, impossible to get rid of. He had done it…and done it well, there was no getting around that part of it. Why, though? “Get upstairs. You can wash your mouth out.” Glad of one small mercy, the cat immediately got to his feet and ran for the stairs, hoping to leave the memory of what he’d done behind him. As he walked into the bathroom, he could only stare at himself. He shivered as he ran his hands over his lips, feeling the growth that had occurred there. They were not huge, not comical, but they had swollen over the last few weeks, getting bigger and more cocksucker-y. He shivered as he felt how sensitive they were, wondering if the demon was going to turn them into a new erogenous zone for him. If that happened, cocksucking was going to get a lot more interesting. He looked down his chest, running his hands to his nipples again. This time, he gave them a pinch, and he gasped as he felt his cock jump, squirting pre-cum into the sink. He blushed, knowing that those were probably going to become another toy. And his dick… Even though he was the bitch, he was no slouch down there. His cock might not have been as big as Damien’s, but it had grown, becoming a thick, fat monster that hung down there. He squeezed around the middle, feeling it squish a bit under his fingers, but it was still hard, still needy. He gave it a few sharp tugs, trying to pull himself towards that edge… But nothing happened. Sighing, he let go, knowing that Damien probably controlled that part of him as much as he did everything else. The fact that the cat had been pushed to suck down piss, the fact that he had done it on his own… [i]That’s corruption. Nothing but corruption.[/i] At least, that was what he desperately hoped. “Hey! Bitch!” Knowing that he was pushing it, the cat rapidly swallowed some water to get the worst of the piss-taste out of his mouth, then ran back down the stairs. He was pretty sure what was waiting for him, and he wasn’t wrong. The dog was up from the table, his wet, shaggy fur hanging down in lines around him. It wasn’t quite matted to his flesh, but it wasn’t far from, either. “Spot me.” That meant an entirely different thing with a hellhound than it did with a weight-lifter, and he groaned under his breath. Nevertheless, the cat lowered himself to the floor, putting himself flat on his back as he waited for the big guy to come to him. Soon, two sweaty feet were on either side of his head, and the rank smell coming off them reached his nose. The hot sweat, the somewhat bitter musk, it was all there, and due to all their interactions, all their training, it got his cock harder than ever. His balls churned, forcing his legs apart a bit, and he shivered, knowing what was soon to come. He watched as the hellhound slowly descended, a muscular, big butt lowering further and further towards his face. He reached up, doing the only thing that he was allowed to do with his hands, and spread the cheeks. The sweat drops between them were his targets, he knew, as was the puckering, twitching, wet rim between them. He took a deep breath, knowing what he was doing, and leaned in. The first lick was always the strongest, and always the worst. If breathing in the other male’s musk had been bad enough at the table, this was something entirely different. He groaned as he felt like he had been punched in the brain by the sheer strength of the musk, the sweat clinging to the fur and almost requiring him to drag his tongue along like sandpaper to get it off. Every lick went right to his dick, though, as if the worship that he was lavishing the hellhound with was a reward that he got for himself. Lick, lick, lick, throb, throb, throb. He groaned, shifting about a bit, trying to resist the temptation to reach down to his dick as he felt it get even harder. Each lick made him feel that pucker, too, reminding him just what he was licking. Not an armpit, not a foot, not even the hellhound’s cock and balls. No, he was right under his ass, right under that hot pucker, and he was giving it the tonguing of a lifetime. He groaned as he tasted the signature flavor of that part of the body, a hot bitterness with a hint of something else. Nothing foul, nothing utterly reeking of horror, but just a reminder that he was eating ass. He was eating, licking, cleaning an ass of all the sweat that had built up overnight that the hellhound refused to just wash away with a shower. That was what he was doing, and he wasn’t allowed to forget it. Panting for air as he licked, he groaned as the big muscular butt suddenly pushed down harder on him, pinning his head to the ground and blacking out the rest of the room for him. Suddenly, all he could smell and all he could taste were the same thing. Hot, sweaty, musky asshole. And he had a hand on his cock, too, the hellhound touching him, flicking him, teasing him. “You’re really that much of a bitch, aren’t you?” He groaned, unable to even shake his head as he dragged his tongue along the pucker again. “You’re that much of a bitch that you can’t help but get hard when you’re licking my ass. Man, you are downright pathetic.” The hellhound’s words only made his hard-on worse, the cat whimpering rather than gasping or growling. All he could do was lick, lick, lick, and throb, and his cock was keeping up its end of business way too well. As he groaned under his breath, trying to fight and get his head back on his shoulders properly, Damien made it much harder by swaying his ass back and forth, grinding his hole down right on the cat’s face. He grimaced, gasping, panting, but there was nothing that he could do except take it. Soon, that pucker felt looser, and he knew what he needed to do. He pushed his tongue forward, felt the rim give – “Mmmm, yeah, get it right in there, you ass-loving slut. You know what you need to do. Eat that ass out.” Groaning, Jake did the best he could, dragging his tongue this way and that, licking over that hole again and again, pushing his tongue in past the rim, pulling back, pushing in again. He could feel the hot walls inside clenching down, making him taste it. No sweat, but more of that uniquely ass-taste. Nothing solid, nothing wet, just…the hole. [i]Mmmph…mmmph![/i] He groaned, panting, shivering from head to toe as he broke out in a sweat of his own. He felt wet from head to toe, as if he was starting to channel his master in how his body worked. He couldn’t stop it, didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if he wanted to stop it. All he could do was lick, lick, lick, and lick some more, dragging his tongue around the inside of the hellhound’s hole, sucking it, biting at it, even. Damien moaned the entire time, grinding his ass back, riding the cat’s tongue as Jake put it to the best use he could. And now and then, he got a reward. “Mmmph!” “You like getting a jerk, bitch?” Stroke, stroke – SMACK! “Mmmph!” He grunted as his cock was hit back down to his belly, arching his back at the sudden impact down there. He shivered, panting, barely holding his mind together as he knew that he couldn’t argue against it. His body… His body was loving it…too much… Moaning, he offered his cock more, thrusting his hips up as he worked his tongue into that hole again, feeling it clench down on his tongue to keep him inside. The taste was so strong, so dirty, so naughty – “MMMPH!” He was hit again, his cock smacking off of his belly and then back up. Not hard, just enough to shock him, to get him to make that sound again. Maybe the hellhound liked it. “Heh, nothing but a bitch.” [i]Nothing but a bitch.[/i] “You’re my bitch, cat. Never forget that. My ass-licking, pit-sniffing, cock-worshiping bitch.” [i]Your bitch…your bitch…[/i] The phrase kept repeating in his mind, reminding him of what he had given up, reminding him of what he had become. He had given up the life of freedom for the life of slavery. Given up the life of a male for the life of a bitch. Given up a life of work for a life of debauchery. It wasn’t…that bad a trade, actually. He groaned as the hellhound pulled his ass up by a few inches, giving the cat a chance to see what he had been doing. The ass cheeks were surprisingly clean again, no more sweat droplets to be seen, and the hole looked like it had been highly polished and lubed rather than just licked. Knowing that had all been down to his tongue-work should have humiliated him, but instead, he felt an odd sense of pride. Click. He looked down, seeing that his collar had been leashed, and yelped as he was pulled upwards. His master turned him around, getting him down on all fours, and pulled the leash again, dragging him right back against those muscular ass cheeks. “Mmmph!” “Heh, you like that? Maybe I should walk you around a dog park sometime, let you walk with your face just buried back there.” [i]Oh god…[/i] The one thing that Damien had yet to put him through was public humiliation. At least, direct public humiliation. He had faced a number of questions based on his transformation at work, but he had been able to mostly deflect those. If the hellhound decided to put him through hell in public, to use him like this there… God, he didn’t know if he could take that… He didn’t know if he wanted it… He didn’t know if he didn’t want it… He was held there between the cheeks for almost a full minute, almost collapsing from the sheer stench of it before he was allowed to breathe again. The cat stumbled around on all fours before Damien started pulling him towards the stairs. “With me, pet. I’m thinking that it’s time to put you through some of the hardest stuff yet…” “Mmmph, what sort…what sort of stuff, Master?” “The stuff that will turn you into what I want you to be.” What the master wanted him to be…if he wasn’t there already, what was left? What more was the master going to take from him? What else was the hellhound going to do to him? It was with a mix of trepidation and curious excitement that he went up the steps, hoping against hope that he would be able to come out of this with something even vaguely resembling his previous body… And a faint hope that he would finally lose everything to the master… [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]