Null Suit Adventures: Rental
By Musuko

I can’t read his name badge, and he hasn’t told me his name. He doesn’t treat me like a person. I am just a thing. I am cargo. He orders me into the crate and doesn’t look up from his datapad. The cigarette bobs on his lip as he talks into the radio on his lapel. I am not present. My observation doesn’t matter. He makes no comment to me or anyone else as he closes the top of the crate. I hear the plastic clips snapping into place all around the edge of the lid. I’m curled up, arms around my knees, laid on my side, head tucked down against my chest. I hear and feel the crate being lifted, packed and stacked. Later, the rumble and vibration of an engine, and the shifting forces of motion.
	I wonder, serenely, and with no real curiosity, where I am being taken to. I know that it doesn’t matter. I stare into the darkness inside the crate, at the plastic wall two inches from the tip of my nose, lit by the faint sunlight filtering through the seam between the crate and the lid, and wait for the time to pass.
	The sun comes in a flood through the open top of the crate as the lid is lifted away. I feel its heat against my rubber skin, muted to a gentle warmth. I try to imagine how it must feel against bare skin and fur and struggle to feel it in my head. The memory feels intensely alien to me. And here is the bright sun, searing my unblinking plastic eyes without pain or discomfort. I realise that I hadn’t seen the sun in all this time, ever since my capture into the null suit so long ago.
	“Get up.”
	My body responds to the voice before I realise that I’d heard it. I uncurl from the tight confines of the crate and stand to face him.
	“Yes, he’ll do.”
	I don’t turn my head, but I can hear the grunt of someone behind me, the slam of a door, the start of a clattery diesel engine, and the receding crunch of tyres on dirt.
	In front of me, framed by a pair of large earthenware urns in front of the entrance door to a large, luxurious stucco villa, and cut into sharp relief by the harsh, bright sun, stands a tiger. I stand at attention, my rubber hooves in position up against my chest, my back arched in, my rear pushed out, tail stub standing pert. In contrast to my rigid poise, he stands with with a relaxed air of confidence, legs spread, paws on his hips, a stance of dominance that adds to the already overwhelming sense of power and strength radiating from his bare, muscular chest.
	His eyes, squinting against the sun, fix me in their stare while he lifts the stub of a cigar to his lips. The smoke curls up into the air, stirred by a slight breeze that I can’t feel. I wish I could move my head. In the corner of my eye I can see the hint of a white sandy beach beyond the corner of the villa, a lazy rolling line of surf, an achingly blue cloudless sky, and the hint of palm leaves just at the hazy edge of my view. But what I really want to see is just below my line of sight; the edge of my rubber muzzle blocks my discovery of what the tiger keeps inside his black slacks.
	“Well,” he says, and I’m alert again, my attention on his eyes. He flicks the dead stub of the cigar over his shoulder, into one of the urns. He turns a sharp one-eighty and pushes the door open behind him. “Follow me,” he says, without turning back to make sure I do. Naturally, I obey, trotting to catch up with him, instinctively keeping a respectful three paces behind him. I watch the muscles shift under the fur of his back. I can’t help but notice the scars on his shoulders and lower back.
	He leads me through the cool interior of the villa, across marble floors and up marble steps. I pay little attention to it all. All I really register is the wealth. The rest of me is all focused on the tiger. Why am I here? I could guess, though. A Null only has one purpose, after all: to serve. Am I going to serve the tiger? Have I been sold?
	Of course, none of this curiosity rises to the level of concern. I’ve grown used to the numbing complacency of being a Null. He pushes open a large oak door.
	The room beyond would leave me breathless if I breathed. The bed is the biggest I’ve ever seen. Spotlights in the ceiling illuminate some very non-domestic furniture; racks and bondage frames of all kinds, more than I’ve ever seen together in one room, even in the performance spaces at CKC. I was right: am going to serve. My emotions grow, strong enough even to defeat the serenity that comes with being a Null: I’m scared. And, perhaps, excited? I hear the wet impact of a droplet of my mouth lube hitting the marble floor between my hooves. I suspect he can sense my enthusiasm.
	“Do you like what you see?”
	I find myself able to nod, and I do so vigorously.
	He sits on the edge of the bed, compressing the thick mattress, making it look as if it’s threatening to swallow him. “Do you mean the room, or me?” he rumbles.
	All I can do is tilt my head, struggling to answer with a yes or a no. He roars with laughter, so loud and sudden that I mentally flinch.
	“You can stop standing to attention, toy,” he says, and I feel a tingle at that word. Toy. It’s a word that a lot of the staff back at CKC like to use for us Nulls. It’s accurate. We’re playthings, not people. I drop my arms from my chest, letting them fall to my side. Still I stand upright, poised and presentable.
	“Come here,” he says, pointing to the floor in front of him, between his large, bare feet paws. And now I can see his body underneath those slacks; the thick, muscular thighs I expected, and a crotch bulging with promise. “I’ve got a present for you.”
	I trot to him, dripping with excitement; very literally! Freed now from having to stand to attention, I’m able to express myself with the antsy bobbing of my head. I start to drop down to my knees, to fall between those strong legs and get my mouth where it so longs to be.
	“Stay where you are,” he says. I snap back upright, silently screaming in frustration. “That’s not your present, although I appreciate your enthusiasm. No, this is what I have for you.”
	He produces a small jewelry box, the right size for a ring. Before I can react in surprise, an emotion I can only really express with the questioning tilt of my head, he pops it open.
	Light! So bright! The order to stay standing evaporates in a blast of blinding, searing pain; pain like I’ve not felt since I was turned into a Null. Pain at an intensity I’ve never felt before! I collapse away from it, falling hard onto the marble. I scream, silent, rubbing my hooves against my face. They come away sticky and black. The pain sweeps through my body; a blazing, burning heat. I feel the black rubber of my body melting away. I’m dying! He’s killing me!
	And then I feel it; like reaching the surface of the water after being deep under water, in the oppressive dark and cold. I feel air on my face, my real face. I lift my hoof up to my eyes and see my fingers emerging from the liquid rubber sloughing off them. My chest shudders with my first breath in perhaps weeks or months. And then, starting with a whispering gasp, shuddering through a gurgle, my voice emerges from its long silence and I explode into a scream, writhing naked in the spreading puddle of black on the floor as the blazing heat slowly fades away.
	“Well now,” says the tiger. I barely hear him. The puddle around me simmers as if on a boil, evaporating away. In moments, every drop is gone, and I’m left sprawled on the floor, naked and dry and normal! I clutch myself, looking down at the soft blue fur of my body, at my tummy, at my legs, at my crotch...at my cock, rising up hard already, churning with the frustrated lust of so long as a Null. I let out a shaky gasp and fall off my elbows, laid on my back, staring at the distant ceiling.
	“I take it you like my gift,” he says.
	I don’t answer. I can’t form proper thoughts yet, let alone words. The wiring of my body is waking up, each nerve ending excitedly reporting their findings after so long suppressed and silent. The tiger seems patient enough to grant me the time I need. He strikes a match and lights a fresh cigar. The air tinges with the rich, musky smell of the burning tobacco. I inhale deeply. I can smell! I can breath! I can taste! The elation of it consumes me, and I forget about everything in the world except for the tidal wave of sensations overwhelming my body. By the time I’m calm enough to lift my head and look to the tiger, he’s finished the cigar, or at least as much as it as he seemed to want to smoke at that moment, and is looking down at me with calm amusement.
	I remember his question. “I like it, sir. Thank you.” I bite my lip, hard. Why did I call him sir? I have never called anyone sir before. Even though I probably would have as a Null if I could, the important fact was that I couldn’t and didn’t. So why now? I exhaled a shaky breath. “Who are-”
	“You can ask questions later,” he says. “For now, just listen and obey. Can you do that, toy?”
	I want to say that I’m not a toy any more. He’s freed me from that. I’m a person again, a person with rights and a life and...but instead I nod, all too aware of the shameful erection that I can’t will away.
	“Good. As you can probably guess, you’re far from home. Whether you consider CKC to be your home, or the place you lived prior to your capture, the same is true for both. You are now in my home. You are now one of my possessions. You are mine. Just as this bed is mine. Just as this building is mine. And just as...well, you will meet him later. Do you understand, toy?”
	Again I nod.
	“Wonderful.” He presents the little box, and I flinch. “Relax. It won’t do anything to you now. See?” He opens the box and I see the glint of a small white sphere, like a pearl. “Good for one use, and only affects Null suits anyway. How do you feel? You can talk.”
	I clear my throat, feeling dry. “I feel okay, sir,” I whisper. “Thank you for freeing me.”
	“Don’t speak out of turn,” he says firmly. “But your gratitude is appreciated, even if it is not necessary. I didn’t free you for your sake, nor even because I prefer natural fur over the strange rubber concoction they had you bound up in. I had another reason. You’ll find out why soon enough.”
	And now, free of the Null suit’s influence, I can feel the anxiety undulled. I start to fidget and look around the room. Freedom feels very far away. As does my home, wherever that might be now. 
	“Right now,” he says, leaning over me, letting me pick up the smoky scent on his breath; heaven! “You need to show me what your experience as a Null has taught you.”
	I blink, struggling, confused. So much easier to be a Null, to just automatically obey without thought. My thoughts race, trying to figure out what he means. I think back to my life as a Null, to the Hall of Nulls, to the long days as a statue. I think about the foul taste of anything that wasn’t a cock. My breath catches; I can eat again, taste again, enjoy having things in my mouth that aren’t cocks!
	Suddenly, I realise what he means. I need no encouragement: I crawl up onto my knees and shuffle towards him, getting in between those strong legs, nose inexorably drawn towards his crotch, paws rising up to exercise clumsy, long-unused fingers…
	“No, not like that,” he says. He leans back on the bed, settling onto his elbows, and lifts up a leg. I sit back onto my heels, and his vast, feline sole lifts up in front of my muzzle. “There,” he purrs.
	I bite my lip. I can see the dirt ingrained in his pads and in the fur between his toes. I swallow a nervous mouthful of saliva, feeling so strange in doing so. It feels so wrong to have all this space inside of me; lungs and stomach and gut and everything. Was this really how I used to be? So complicated? So conflicted? It’s so much more straightforward for a Null. Just a smooth, featureless body and one orifice, one bodily function, one purpose.
	My nose, though, exulting in its new freedom, draws in the sweaty musk of his paw, and my head spins giddy. I think about all that heat outside, working on the tiger’s thick fur, baking his skin, bringing out a sheen of sweat, to soak and spread through his fur, layering his scent into it. And now the dirt blackening his paw doesn’t discourage me. Now my mouth waters, and I feel that same feeling I felt every time a cock teased at the lips of my eager Null mouth; I want to taste, to see if it matches the delicious scent. With a small, breathy gasp, I press my muzzle up against his paw, pushing my nose between his toes, feeling him clench them over it and bury my nostrils deep into the musky, furry crease, and extend my tongue to stroke firm and slow against the flat expanse of his pad.
	“Good toy,” he purrs, laying flat on the bed with his paws behind his back. I think about my situation; why don’t I run? What’s stopping me from escaping? I saw no locks on the doors, nothing to stop me from racing from the room, down the stairs, and out the main door into freedom. The truck that brought me here means that there must be a road, a route back to other people and to help. Even if it is far, I have a chance: perhaps he can outrun me, perhaps not. But...I could try.
	I ask myself, as I continue to lick, cradling his heel with my paws so he doesn’t have to hold his foot up; why don’t I? I keep licking as I try to think of the answer. No answer comes. I keep licking. My tongue roams over the whole of his foot, unashamedly bathing in the salty, sweaty taste of his musk, and the dry, gritty taste of dirt. I ignore the ache in the base of my tongue, even as it turns to pain, a sensation I hadn’t felt as a Null, not even after hours on end of licking and sucking. I suckle on the tips of his toes, grooming his claws with my tongue.
	Why? I keep struggling with the question. Why do I stay? Why don’t I try to escape?
	I don’t know how much time has passed. Minutes? Hours? Has my time as a Null permanently ruined my internal clock, or will the sense come back in time? I’m laying saliva on top of saliva, his foot now fresh and clean and pink. He must have decided how long was needed per paw; at some arbitrary moment, he pulls his paw away from my face, sets it down on the floor, and lifts his other paw, grimy and unlicked, to my lips.
	Why? I don’t know. I give up thinking about it. I lean forward, arch my back, push my rear out, and lap in worship against his sole. I think this is a good place to be, considering how many other places I could be. And my body is free. I can feel again. Perhaps I owe the tiger the price of this release. And if the price is to clean his paws with my tongue, then I’ll pay it.
	I hear the rumble of his purr. It rewards me, and brings back the thoughts of all those happy cocks pumping into my Null mouth. I exhale a breath against the base of his toes and watch them curl, pressing my tongue in against them to feel the pressure and warmth against it. I close my eyes and lose myself in the task once more, time passing unheeded as I worship at the alter of feline feet.
	“Toy,” comes the soft voice, close to my ear. A gentle nudge against my shoulder. I open my eyes to the tiger’s face, leaning over me, smiling, sharp white teeth showing. “You’ve been licking air for a minute now. Didn’t you notice me moving my foot away?”
	I shake my head, confused. That can’t be true…
	“You were in quite a trance there.” He leans back. Those big, feline feet are on the floor again, clean now, polished with my saliva. I wonder what it must feel like for him, to have his feet licked like that. I’d love to try feeling it some day. But, given the choice between licker and lickee? I think I know which I’d pick.
	“Stand up.”
	I respond almost as automatically as I used to as a Null. Habit, perhaps? I stand uneasy, unsure what to do with my paws, feeling awkward about my erection, unused to having it at all, let alone having it on display and not hiding it or dealing with it. I fidget my paws at my sides and then, falling back onto old comforts, I bend them up to my chest and hold them as I used to hold my hooves as a Null. I instantly feel more relaxed.
	“Would you like your next gift, toy?”
	I hesitate. Uncertain, I nod.
	“Glad to hear it, toy.” He reaches behind him without looking, bringing something up from the bed behind him. Another jewelry box, sized for a necklace perhaps. I know not to expect jewelry, however, and I tense my body against another onslaught of searing pain. He notices. “Relax. This is a nice present for you, toy. It’s jewelry, to make you pretty. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
	Jewelry after all? Still uncertain, I nod, watching the box with suspicion. He eases open the lid. I flinch. I catch a flash of silver or chrome. He tilts the box so I can see, and there inside is a shiny metal ring, a few inches across. A cuff of some kind. A bracelet, perhaps? Or…
	“Spread your legs and keep your paws out of the way. Where they are is fine.” He lifts the ring out of the box. I chew my lip. A cockring, then. I catch my breath as he wraps his large paw around the base of my cock and balls, squeezing and pulling them out, not painfully...but god it feels strange, after so long without having them at all. What did the Null suit do with them? Just cover them? Destroy them and recreate them? Just numb and hide them? It certainly never felt like they were there. But they definitely feel there now. I force myself to stay still, even as the touch brings a breathless groan to my lips and makes my knees want to buckle. I can feel the precum seeping out of me. It feels exactly like how the lube drool felt when it drooled out of my Null mouth. Or...rather...that felt like this feels; I knew this feeling first, after all. Although it doesn’t seem like that now. That past life, of being normal as I am now, seems so distant and unreal, like a memory of a show on television rather than my actual life.
	With his other paw, he guides the ring down over the dripping tip of my cock, careful not to touch it. All the way down to the base, then tilting and easing down under my balls, his other paw helping to slip them into the ring. It’s not tight and it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t even feel like it’ll stay on. When his paws release, the ring is left around the base of my cock and balls, pushing the whole package out just as his paw had done.
	“Now, this will feel strange.” He clears his throat, and in an emotionless, even tone, he says “activate.”
	My paws fall from my chest to clutch at my crotch. The ring has suddenly tightened! I nearly drop to my knees. The question in my head cuts off before I have a chance to finish it; it starts off with “how…” and ends with the obvious answer: “the same way the Null suit works, of course...however that is.” I probe at the ring with my fingertips, tugging at it, kneading at my captive balls. It’s not painful, but it’s tight, and it’s definitely not coming off now.
	“Get your paws back to your chest,” says the tiger. “You’ve got about three seconds before you’ll regret having them down there.”
	I snap back to attention. I don’t want to find out what he means by that! I put my all into the pose, replicating my Null pose perfectly. With my cock and balls thrust out like that by the ring, and kept at an aching, unnatural level of erection, I’m on display even more so than I’m used to. I can’t help but feel a little turned on. Under different circumstances…
	“You’ve probably figured out that this isn’t a normal cock ring. It has other surprises too. But if you’re an obedient toy and, most importantly, keep your paws away from it, you won’t need to find out what they are.” His voice changes to that emotionless tone again, and I realise he must be talking to the ring. Voice activated? Some kind of computerised wizardry? It must be something like that. Just like the Null suits. Space-age stuff. “Assign, toy two.”
	Two? I’m toy two? Who’s toy one?
	“Would you like your third gift now?”
	Another? My heart feels like it’s jumping about all over the place. I’m not sure I can handle another gift like this. I might just have a heart attack and keel over dead, still sporting a massive erection and everything. God I wish I could stroke it. Old memories are coming back; being able to just lie in bed and watch some free porn on the internet and wrap my fingers around my cock and just give it a good old-fashioned pawing. Oh god it would feel good. This ring is maddening. It feels like all the blood in my body is in my cock. The pressure is unbearable. I can feel my heartbeat in it. I’m sure it’s twitching with every beat. I can feel the sticky precum on the tip. I can feel every tickle of moving air against it. Please let me stroke it...please…
	I nod for my third gift, almost feeling close to tears. The strain in my arms, fighting against the need to reach down and just pump my cock, is starting to become painful. It was so much easier as a Null; no temptation, and no free will to act on it anyway. So calm and serene. So easy. So relaxed and simple.
	“Good toy. Cover your ears.”
	I hesitate, but only for a moment. I see him lean his head back and take a deep breath in. I cup my paws over my ears, just in time to protect them against his bellow.
	“TOY!”
	Even with my paws to protect them, my ears ring. I lower my paws back to my chest, hesitant, ready to rush them back up at the first sign of him shouting again.
	“Sorry about that,” he says. “Toy one will be down in the kitchen. It’s very far away. He’ll be here in a moment...ah.”
	I hear the door behind me swing open. I don’t turn to look. I haven’t been told to not look, but to the same degree I haven’t been told I can look. Best to be cautious. Act like a Null; don’t move unless commanded. The thought of what that ring down there might be able to do makes me uneasy.
	“Toy, meet toy two.”
	I hear footsteps behind me. I resist the urge to turn around, right up until I feel the touch at the small of my back. I freeze and straighten up. Fingers stroke up and down my spine, then stop. I hear a soft gasp. I start to turn my head.
	“Alec?” comes a voice from behind me, so very unlike the tiger’s voice. I spin and come nose to nose with a familiar face.
	“Adam?!”
	We stare at eachother, our faces a matching pair of stunned surprise. I know this guy, this otter! It seems like years ago, back before my time in the Null suit, and a little while before that too. We dated, briefly, back over on the other side of the world, back when things were normal.
	And now, of all places to bump into him again, with both of us as the naked slaves of a menacing, wealthy tiger, somewhere in the tropics.
	He struggles to find words, mouth opening and closing. Finally, “what are-”
	“That’s enough,” says the tiger. “Both of you, face me please.” It comes as a request, but we both take it as an order. Adam stands to attention with his paws atop his head. I debate mimicking him, but it seems unnatural to me. Holding my paws against my chest in a pony-hooves position feels far more natural. I notice that Adam is sporting a cock ring just like mine. Why is he here? This can’t be a coincidence. The tiger clearly knew that we knew each other. Is that why he brought me here? I chew on my lip and try not to think about Adam’s naked body. We never quite got to that stage when we were dating. I was still nervous and closeted back then. He was patient. It would have got there when I was ready. But I had to move when I started my studies, and that was that. Looking at him now...that was a real shame.
	“You know each other,” says the tiger. “I knew that, of course. This, toy two, or rather what comes next, is your third gift. Do you like it, toy two?”
	I nod, still chewing my lip. I’m going to bleed at this rate.
	“And you,” says the tiger, facing Adam, who stands a little straighter to attention. “Are toy one now. Understood?”
	“Yes sir.”
	The tiger reached for Adam’s crotch, feeling past his limp cock and his balls, touching the ring there. “Assign, toy one.”
	So, touching the ring is needed to program it or something? Too bad I can’t touch mine. Or at least, I don’t dare try. I wonder if I can touch Adam’s. I feel my ears heat up, probably visibly blushing. How strange that, after all this, that thought is the one that sets off my embarrassment.
	“Toy one hasn’t benefited from your experience as a Null, toy two. He often forgets his place, speaking out of turn, disobeying. For instance, I didn’t say you couldn’t say anything to him when he came in, but I did tell him not to speak to you when I brought him in. Do you know what happens to toys who disobey, toy two?”
	I let go of my lower lip, leaving it aching and dimpled with the indents from my teeth. “Uh. They...get punished?”
	“Correct! Well done, toy two. Not that you ever experienced that as a Null. I understand that you physically can’t disobey when you’re in that suit. Is that right?”
	I nod. I start to nibble my lip again. Can’t disobey...that peace seems so wonderful in hindsight.
	“Too bad for toy one that he’s not in one.” He turns to face Adam. I hear the otter whimper next to me. I don’t look, but I can see him in the corner of my eye, a blurry brown shape, stood to attention, but quivering.
	“Please don’t, sir,” he says. “Please don’t do it again. I’m sorry!”
	“Toy one, shock.”
	I flinch at the scream, so loud that it hurts my ear. I see Adam drop to the floor, thrashing and kicking and screaming. I risk a glance, turning my head just enough. He’s pounding his fists against the floor, against his chest, against the sides of his head, anywhere but the cock ring, which I assume must be the source of the pain. Would touching it make it worse? I feel my eyes start to well, unable to stand seeing him writhe in pain, with the seconds ticking away, no sign of it ending.
	“Please,” I cry, looking back to the tiger. I dart forwards, intending to plead; but I’m stopped short, my neck caught and squeezed in the tiger’s massive paw. I hadn’t even seen it move! So fast! He fixes me with a steel glare. I clasp my paws together above his wrist, in a begging position, and stand on my tiptoes to try and relieve some of the squeeze on my neck. Adam continues to scream on the floor beside me. “Please stop hurting him! Punish me instead, please!”
	“Oh?” he says, tilting his head. Adam’s screams grow hoarse. “Why would I do that?”
	I feel his fingers squeeze around my throat. I cry out. “Please, I’ll do anything you want! Just stop it, please! You’re hurting him!”
	“You’re right. You will do anything I want. I am hurting him. What point are you trying to make?” He grins. He’s got me.
	“I don’t know! Please!” He’s squeezing tighter. I’m struggling to breathe. His paw is lifting up and, with it, my neck and the rest of my. My toes are threatening to leave the floor. “I’ll...I’ll…”
	“Yes?”
	I realise there’s only one thing I can do. I unclasp my paws and sweep them down towards my crotch.
	The pain hits at the same moment as the tiger lets go of my neck. I drop to my knees, then fall back hard onto my rear. I clutch at my crotch, screaming louder than poor Adam, who has now degraded into sobbing whimpers. Not that I can hear him, of course; not over my own wails. I’ve never felt anything like it! It feels like my cock and balls are being ripped off! Like they’re on fire! Like a ring of needles are being stabbed over and over into them! I can’t describe it properly, to convey the sharp, piercing heat of the pain. My first experience of electric shocks, and I never want to feel it again!
	I feel a fool when I finally realise what I need to do to stop the pain. I fight my instinct to grab at the source of the pain and tear my paws away from my crotch, holding them behind my head. The shocks continue, and I roll onto my side and curl up, screaming with each breath. After what must be a few seconds, but feeling like much longer, the pain instantly stops. I roll onto my back, arms and legs limply splayed, and burst into sobbing tears.
	“Well,” says the tiger. “That was interesting.”
	From beside me I only hear gasping breathing. I roll my head and look. Through my tears I see Adam, on his side, hugging his knees, crying like I am. He’s not struggling or screaming. The tiger must have turned off his shocks while I was otherwise distracted. I did it. I succeeded. I roll my head back to look at the ceiling and try to fight away the tears.
	“I’ll give you both a minute to recover your composure.” I hear the metallic clink of a lighter and smell the taint of cigar smoke in the air. “Toy one, you may thank toy two for his concern for you.”
	“T-thank you.” The voice is hoarse, weak.
	“Toy two, you may say that toy one is welcome.”
	“You’re welcome,” I whisper, my voice shaky and barely under my full control. I sniffle loudly and wipe at my eyes.
	“Good. Good.” I hear the sucking and blowing of air. “Of course, there’s no reason why you both can’t be licking my paws while you get your breath back.”
	In a scramble of tired limbs, we both pull ourselves up onto all fours. I glance over at Adam at the same moment he glances at me. The shame and defeat in his face must match mine. We turn our attention to the tiger’s paws; wide and bare and flat with their soles against the floor. Adam leans down without hesitation and starts to lap at the fur on the tops of the paw in front of him. Taking his cue, I do the same, and the rumbling purr from above suggests we’re doing it right. Despite the agony that had made it go limp, I feel my cock start to plump back up again. Traitor!
	“Right then,” says the tiger. I pause in my licking, but don’t retract my tongue. I keep it wedged between his toes. It’s cleaner there now, after my earlier grooming. But I still taste the faint feline musk. “On your feet, both of you.”
	I spring to my feet with the energy that can only come from the threat of agonising genital pain. I glance over to see Adam doing the same. We both stand at attention, each in our own individual poses. The tiger stands up, looming tall over us both. He places a paw on my shoulder and the other on Adam’s shoulder. With strength and ease he pushes us to step aside, parting us like a pair of saloon doors in a western.
	“Follow me.”
	I exchange glances with Adam. He shies away from my gaze. He knows what’s going to happen, I can tell. We follow the tiger across the room. At first I think we’re heading towards the door. Freedom, perhaps? Or at least some other form of captivity? I wonder what would happen if I tried to bolt for the door. Probably get dropped to the floor in moments. Before, I thought it would be a tackle from the tiger. Now I know it’d just be a couple of words from him and I’d fall with the searing pain in my crotch. If I had a chance to escape before, it’s long gone now. We don’t arrive at the door; he leads us in a turn towards a rack beside it. It’s a tall, scary device, hewn from thick, solid timbers. Oak by the looks of it. The shackles look very strong, very uncomfortable. And the chains and the rotating drums look capable of ripping a body apart. I start to feel a twist of fear in my gut. I hadn’t really thought I was in mortal danger until this moment.
	“Put him on the rack,” says the tiger. I glance at Adam and see him staring at me. I look back to the tiger to see him staring at me.
	“Me?”
	“Yes, toy two. Put toy one on the rack.”
	I look back at Adam to see him already in position, standing with his back against the wood. Before I can say or do anything he swings his legs up and climbs onto it, laying down and stretching his arms up above his head. His half-hard cock juts out into the air, and even in the moments I’m watching I can see it getting harder. Does he like this? His face doesn’t really seem to suggest he does. I see in it the same fear I feel.
	“Uh...yes sir,” I say. Adam called him sir. I called him sir earlier. I feel like I’m expected to now. I place my paw on Adam’s wrist and feel him flinch underneath me. I remember that first date, awkward and nervous, sitting at the coffee shop and spending most of it staring down into my drink, stammering replies to his questions. Whenever I looked up, I saw only his caring smile and gentle, patient confidence. I was the scared little creature then.
	And now, when I look down at him, I see that same scared timidity looking back at me. I imagine how he must have felt then. I can’t help myself. I have to reassure him, like he did back then. I guide his wrist towards the open shackle and close it against his fur, hearing it click shut, the two halves pulled together as if by magnets. I grip his paw and squeeze, threading my fingers between his. I meet his eyes and try to speak without words, trying to let my eyes say that everything will be okay. He looks away, lip trembling.
	I move down to his feet, shutting his ankles into the shackles. I see his webbed toes flex and curl, and watch as his chest shudders and his cock bobs up to full erection, encouraged by the tight constraint of his cock ring. Moving back up his other side, I can’t keep my eyes away. I trace the lines of his body with my gaze, watching how his tummy concaves and his chest pushes out when I shackle his other wrist, leaving him pulled taut on the rack. He takes a deep breath and gives a small tug, exposing the small amount of slack the chains give him. He’s helpless and he knows it. My own erection bumps against the smooth wood of the rack, and I look back at the tiger.
	“Excellent,” he says. The amber glow of the light above us picks out every muscle on his torso. My head must be fogged with my own arousal. I find myself staring. “Turn the wheel. Three clicks.”
	Reluctantly, I look away, down at the long wooden handle in front of me. I grip it, cast an apologetic glance at Adam, and turn it clockwise. The chains rattle and rise up off the wooden bed of the rack. The shackles pull at his wrists and drag him an inch up towards the turning drum. It seems to go on forever, pulling him tighter and tighter, until the ratchet clicks and the strain disappears from the handle.
	“That’s one,” says the tiger. “Two more.”
	I bite my lip. Adam already looks uncomfortably stretched. His tummy is sucked in, and his breathing is in short, shallow gasps. The shackles are dug into his wrists, pulled at an angle. I can’t see how he can survive another turn of the wheel, let alone too. But the threat of the cock ring is too great to ignore. My fingers shake, as if they know what a horrible thing they’re doing, and I grip the handle to turn it again. I brace my body against it, heaving at the resistance that I know is coming from Adam’s body. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this! I hope he knows that. A lifetime passes before the second click and I let go of the handle. Adam’s breathing has become soft, high-pitched whimpers.
	“One more.”
	I look at the tiger, pleading. But he just stares back, expression firm. I bite my lip, hard, and imagine I can taste blood. I take a deep breath, grip the handle, and drive all my strength against it. Adam tilts his head back and lets out a guttural moan. The wood creaks, and metal squeals against metal. I clench my eyes shut and push as hard as I can. Come on, click. Please! Please click…
	Click.
	I let go of the handle and stagger back a step. I don’t want to look at what I’ve done, but I have to. Adam is stretched out on the rack, body quivering with the strain, mouth open and gulping for air, his face scrunched up tight in distress. But still his cock is throbbing hard. I stare at it, mesmerised. He can’t possibly like this, can he?
	“Climb onto the rack,” says the tiger. “Between his legs. No, like this, here.” He reaches over and pats the wood. “So you can suck his cock.”
	Adam lets out a groan. Is that why he’s hard? Did he know this was coming? I clamber up into position, feeling giddy. I can barely fit my knees between his thighs. I can see the muscles defined under his fur, stretched and tight. Adam doesn’t have the bulk of the tiger, but he has the same strong, hard tone. I have a guilty thought, wishing I had been more confident back then when we dated. I wish I had taken things further. We could have ended up in bed together. I could have seen him naked. I could have been kneeling to suck his cock, without this torture, without this fear. I lower my nose towards the head of his cock. I can smell his musk and the sticky precum on the tip. Maybe I can make this better for him.
	“Show me how a Null pleases his master, toy two. Show me on toy one.”
	I don’t need the threat of the cock ring to encourage me. I engulf the otter’s cock in one motion, sliding the whole length of it with ease into the back of my throat. I was never this good before, not before my time as a Null. I surprise even myself; I don’t have the cock-sucking anatomy I had as a Null, but yet all that practice must have done something to me. I deepthroat him like a pro, squeezing my lips around the base of his cock, nose buried in his fur, breathing deep of his musk directly. I hear him moan, hear the clink of the shackles as he shifts his arms. I’m no-longer the virginal, nervous, closeted little gay kid I once was. Now, perhaps, I’m the experienced one, with the skills and the confidence and…
	“Don’t let him come,” says the tiger. I moan around Adam’s cock, feeling my throat tighten and convulse around the head. I feel him shudder underneath me. So that’s what this is. I’m just a toy, to be used to torment another toy. To tease and deny. I brace my paws against Adam’s thighs and scrunch my toes up tight. I close my eyes, take a steadying breath through my nose, and start to bob my head. Did Adam know he was going to get a blowjob? Did he know he was going to be teased and denied? How long has it been since he’s had orgasm? From the way his cock throbs in my mouth, already at the urgent edge of release, forcing me to slow down, it seems like it must have been a long time. How long has Adam been here with the tiger? What happened to him to end up here? My mind races with questions, and I long again for the unquestioning serenity of the Null suit.
	I hear a belt buckle being unfastened behind me. It’s like a porno. I wonder if I’m being filmed, like I was so often at CKC. Instinctively, and without me even really realising I’m doing it until after the fact, I present my rear. Why did I do that? I was never fucked in the rear as a Null. I wasn’t equipped for it. I’ve never even been fucked before I was a Null? Oh god, I’m a virgin. So easy to forget that, after everything that’s happened. I’m a virgin, and it’s about to be taken from me by a tiger who I’ve never met before, who has me held captive here against my will...it is against my will, right?
	I feel the movement of air behind me, the brush of his thighs against mine, naked fur against naked fur. I start to make muffled squealing noises around Adam’s cock. I’m unsure if I’m protesting...or begging. Begging for what? Oh god, I don’t know any more. Something cold and wet touches against my tailhole, and the strange, slippery sensation seems to spread deep inside me. Is that normal? Is that how lube is meant to feel? I’ve used toys before, long ago. But...I can barely remember what they felt like.
	“Keep sucking, toy two. Don’t let him cum. If you let him cum…” I feel something push against my tailhole. It’s his cock. I know it is. I moan on otter cock, tensing up. But the pressure increases against me, and my pucker spreads with ease, without pain, without discomfort. That can’t have been ordinary lube. “If he cums, the ring will shock him, much more strongly than before.” I stop bobbing my head and stop massaging my tongue against the underside of his cock.
	“Mmmph!” I manage to get out. It’s hardly a useful communication, but it says everything the tiger needs to hear. He chuckles, low and sonorous, and I feel his cock slide into me, bigger and bigger, stretching me around his girth. It must hurt, it should hurt...but I feel nothing but an electric shiver of pleasure through my lower body.
	“You, however,” he says, “can cum all you want. You must miss it. After so long in that Null suit, without a cock to stroke, without even being able to see it. You must crave it so badly right now. To feel what it’s like to orgasm again, to spray your seed out between your fingers and feel it splash all over you.”
	I realise I’m digging my fingers too hard into Adam’s thighs. I start to bob my head again, suckling, while the cock inside me starts to rock back and forth, slowly sliding inside me, pressing against my prostate. I can barely concentrate on what I’m doing. It feels so good. I catch myself pushing backwards, trying to keep him buried inside me each time he slides out. The half second spent waiting for him to thrust back in again is too long. I need it. I need it desperately. And I’m sucking too hard, bobbing my head too fast. I’ve forgotten that I need to tease, need to deny. I feel like a Null again. I want to feel the cum against my tongue. I need it as much as I need to be fucked. The need is everything, and for the short moment before I remember the pain that threatens Adam if I lose control, I know what it’s like to treat another person as a toy. For that moment, Adam has become just a thing for my pleasure. I feel a wave of guilt.
	“Please…” The gasp doesn’t come from the tiger. “Please let me cum...please sir. Please let me cum…”
	“You know what happens if you do,” says the tiger. My saliva is soaking the otter’s fur. The drool of precum over my tongue is a constant supply now.
	Climax comes like an explosion. Like blinding white light, unexpected and overwhelming. Without warning, without buildup. A sudden pulse of pleasure in my cock that fills my whole body with surging warmth. It continues for longer than I can bear. A pumping throb of my cock, untouched, splattering against the wood beneath me. I suckle on Adam’s cock to suppress my moans, and feel him shudder beneath me. My mouth floods, cum spilling into my throat and gushing down over my tongue. He moans loudly, pleasure mingled with panic. In the daze of my bliss I stab with guilt, expecting at any moment to hear his screams of pain. None come. Was it a lie about the cock ring? We spasm together in orgasm. I lift my mouth away from his cock and feel the rest of his cum lace across my muzzle. The paws gripping my sides squeeze hard, and the tiger roars. The cock inside me slams in deep, driving me forward into collapse on top of Adam. I pant against his chest and feel the flood inside me, drenching my thighs when the tiger pulls out between each thrust. I paw at Adam’s sides, massaging, clawing, overcome by a frenzy. And then emptiness, the warmth of the tiger drawing away from me, leaving me aching to feel the filling, stretching wholeness again. I whimper, thrusting my rear up, like an addict wanting more. I feel a paw pat against my rear as I slide down into the soothing fog of exhaustion. I feel Adam’s breathing beneath my cheek. I forget about everything but this moment.
	“I’ll let you two rest,” says the tiger. A clatter of metal and wood, coming from the foot end of the rack. The tension in Adam’s body eases, and I feel his arms lower down to drape across my body, trailing chains, metal pressing into my shoulders as his paws stroke against my back. “We’ve got a lot to do, and a lot of day left to do it in, before you have to go back tomorrow.”
	I cling tighter against Adam. I don’t want to leave. Not any more. Escape is a horror like captivity once was. But that’s something to worry about tomorrow. Right now, I cuddle tighter to Adam, let my breathing settle down, and let the blissful relaxation of rest take me away. Beneath me, I feel and hear and sense in all ways possible Adam doing the same. Perfect...so perfect. Thank you, tiger. I don’t even know your name. Just master. Sir. Most definitely sir.