Like a Wounded Animal

Roy now realized why he hated the expression ‘There is no rest for the weary’. It seemed just as soon as his bindings had been undone, more had been placed upon him.

The cuffs on his upper arms had been readjusted and brought to bare further up his arms, and chains had been attached to each of these, connecting them with his thigh cuffs. His legs, in turn, had been doubled up so that his feet were being held flush against his buttocks. The result was he could no longer stand.

Already humiliated, and still bleeding slightly, he’d been lead from the room by his collar by way of a leash, into Sapphira’s bedroom, which was connected to the room he’d just been tortured in. The entire time, he was crawling on his hands and knees, quite literally, as his knees were the only part of his legs allowed on the ground.

He’d been prompted to jump up onto her bed, though it was more like hopping and then awkward climbing, where she immediately took him by his collar and flipped him onto his back.

He had hissed and whined from the pressure this put on his sore, tortured ass. She clapped a hand over his lips, however, keeping that from being heard.

“I told you, Mutt.” She spat. “Your pain doesn’t matter. No one cares about your pain. You are meaningless. Your only purpose is to submit, is to give pleasure to others and never feel it yourself.” She hissed, each word biting down into his memory.

“Your life is nothing but eternal pain, so live with that knowledge and deal with it.” She let go of his mouth and slapped him, as if to concrete this thought in his mind.

He shook beneath her, and she smacked him again. “NO!” she told him firmly.

He quieted right down at this, all these things beginning to stick into his brain, instincts of the wolf within him. If something hurt, don’t do it.

She nodded at this, seemingly pleased. Moving down his body, she reached over to a table on one side of the bed and took up two more cuffs. Placing these tightly around his upper calves, right at the base of each knee so that the would not slide off, she then attached them to chains on the bedposts, so that, even though his legs were bound double, they were spread to allow for easy access to his crotch.

He laid their docilely, tired from the ministrations of the earlier exorcise, he then allowed her to clip his wrist cuffs together over his head, and then attached this to each chain of the posts at the head of the bed to hold him still and stable.

He looked up at her with tired, pleading eyes, but she once again slapped him. “NO! I’m not satisfied yet, you haven’t done your job properly enough.” She scolded. He didn’t make a sound, didn’t move. Already, he knew better than that. She smiled at that, knowing that she had him learning already.

Looking down, and seeing that he had wilted since his first session, she sighed, “We can’t have this, Mutt.” She told him.

Roy followed her gaze down his own body, as she was kneeling on the bed behind his spread legs, watching as her hand came around the base of his dick. He bit back a whimper, remembering what she’d done to his tail earlier, and not wanting a more painful repeat of this with the other extremity.

“Can’t have this at all,” she told him, voice oddly gentle, almost sickeningly sweet, shaking her head as she slowly began to run her hand over the limp shaft.

The wolf couldn’t help the groan that passed through him then, though he thought to make his body stiffened a bit incase she was going to hit him again for this insurrection. She didn’t, however, and he allowed himself to relax. Tor once in this whole process, she seemed to be on his side. In opposition to that last lesson, this felt good. He felt himself beginning to harden in her roving hand.

Seeing and feeling this, as well as hearing his moan, Sapphira looked up at him, nodding. Her other hand came through his legs and rested on his stomach, just above where his waist restraint was still in place, she patted him affectionately, there, before beginning to scratch at the muscles of his lower abdomen. She delighted in the effect this seemed to have on him, as he almost immediately began to writhe and wriggle around in his bindings under her touch, though there was no where for him to go. He was secure, and he wasn’t getting away from her.

Between this and the hand around his quickly enlarging penis his breath had been reduced to helpless, panting whimpers, mixed with a bit of humanistic laughter as she tickled his stomach.

“That’s a good Boy, you like that don’t you?” Sapphira asked him in a baby voice. “Yes, of course you do. Good Mutt.”

He couldn’t help his tongue lolling idiotically out of his mouth as his panting only increased. He could feel all of this stimulation – sadly even from the position he found himself in – building inside of his gut, coiling into an unmistakable feeling of closeness. Oh, was she actually going to let him release in a position far less demeaning that the one he’d been in? Was she actually going to be pleasant with him?

The answer, was no. Her hand had come away from his stomach, and had come back with an odd looking device in her hand, made from some sort of elastic material. He watched as her hand at his base moved away, helping the one with this thing side the material around it. He immediately felt the pressure from this, which was added as he felt another loop of the thing come around his balls.

As soon as her hand had moved away, he felt the tension within his stomach begin to ease again as he calmed… sort of.

Because of this new binding around one of his most sensitive areas, he remained hard, even though his state of arousal was shrinking all the time.

“You’re going to finish what you started.” She told him, keeping an eye on him. She had been while he’d been restrained during that first lesson, and knew the signs of his coming now. “Your pain or pleasure doesn’t matter, remember? You damn dirty Mutt.” She told him aggressively, taking hold of that binding around his waist and pulling him farther down toward her.

He felt his shoulders pop uncomfortably, and she adjusted the chains on his legs so that they were spread farther apart before he was resettled back where he had been, aching. Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth, as he’d bitten down on his tongue to keep himself from whimpering when his shoulders had popped.

Still holding on savagely to his restraint with one hand, Sapphira stripped herself again with the other before coming over and mounting him, impaling herself on his engorged organ.

He couldn’t help the hiss that had come from him, and she smiled, cruelly, reaching over for a long whip. “Do anything against my will, Mutt, and you will be punished. Severely.” She told him.

“You aren’t to release unless I give you permission to. You beg enough, and I just might let you. Any sound other than your begging, and releasing before you are allowed, and I will not hesitate to teach you your lesson. Understand?”

Roy nodded, keeping in mind to stay quiet unless he needed to beg. This was so degrading, he could hardly tell which of these had been worse. Sure, he wasn’t being abused anally anymore, but, what had he traded off for that?

“Good.” She growled over him, and, all the while holding onto that strap around his waist, began to ride him, hard and fast. He bit his lips, fearing that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. That feeling of closeness had already returned, and he had no idea what to do.

She watched him closely, and when he seemed on his point of release, she kneeled and brought herself up and off of him completely.

Frustrated, he grumbled something, but then his eyes widened as he watched her nude form.

She brought the whip back and cracked it forward, the lash stinging and cleaving deeply into his flesh, drawing blood. Biting his lips, he tried to bite back a howl of pain, but the muffled equivalent was enough to give him another cruel lashing, rending more flesh away from his body.

Biting down hard, his fangs cut into both sides of his bottom lip, but he successfully kept himself quiet this time, tears running down the sides of his face as he thrashed his head from side to side.

Suddenly, he felt a hand wrap around his throat, thin fingers clamping around his chin and forcing him to stay still. His chest began to rise and fall in a show of panic, and he felt as if he were going to die, another whip crack, this one against his ribs.

“STAY STILL YOU MONGREL!” She hissed at him, and Roy obeyed, not moving anymore as she let go of him, watching as he tried to calm himself, and suddenly, there she was again, around him, bobbing her body up and down upon him.

He came close again, and once more, she rose up off of him.

This went on for what seemed to Roy like hours, and every time he was denied, and he’d tried to keep himself as still and as quiet as possible.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, and managed to rasp out, in a voice sounding much like the whining beg of a dog – “Mistress… please? Please? Now?” he murmured.

“No.”

“Please… please…. Oh… oh please… Mistress?” He continued to whine, trying not to squirm in his restraints with frustration.

“No.”

He could feel the pit of his stomach beginning to tighten again, and didn’t know if he would be able to hold back this time if she refused him. He’d been through too much of this, and all of the exertion from control had worked itself out on his skin, the sweat stinging his dried or still-bleeding wounds.

“Please… Mistress… please… please… I beg you… please…” Roy whimpered, voice thready as he felt himself coming to the end of his restraint. He just couldn’t do it anymore.

Seeing the look of extreme distress on the immobilized wolf’s face, and feeling that the brink of his strength had been reached for this part of his training, Sapphira leaned down over him, pressing a palm down over the torn flesh of his chest, “Do it.” She growled, before taking his lips with a bruising quality, still bucking her hips over his to keep him going even more.

Moaning and groaning against the ministrations of her lips, Roy finally felt the tension in his body release, all within the confines of his captor. Shaking and over stimulated, he lost consciousness still in the throws of the violent orgasm.