This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
*****
"Have him brought to me."
Naomi lounged on the couch in her private quarters, her ship prowling the furthest reaches of space under her command. The lioness flicked her tail languidly back and forth, eyes sweeping across the many pieces of fine art and decorations, mostly formed of gold and the rarest of gemstones, adorning her private chambers. It was good to be the captain, but perhaps she did need to put some of her collection into storage. No -- she changed her mind a moment after the thought had entered her mind. Treasure was better on display, for it was, after all, to be enjoyed.
And oh, she had so very much to enjoy. Her new pleasure pup for one thing. And the quivering servant -- one of many on her ship -- in the doorway to her quarters was hardly him. Oh no, the one she had in mind was far more than a scraggy mutt with yellow-brown fur that gulped and ducked his head swiftly, too swiftly, at the mere sight of her. He'd held appeal to her once, she had to admit, but, well, they seemed to lose their allure after she'd toyed with them as her personal slaves for some time.
It was an inclination of the feline persuasion, of course, to be so distractible.
She yawned deliciously, showing a flash of sharp teeth glistening with saliva to the smaller, floppy-eared canine, who had once been a slave on the predator's ship too. Servicing the crew, he wasn't much more than that still, but she was sure he did well enough for his status anyway.
Need burned in her loins, but it was nothing compared to the flicker of excitement in her heart, each new slave that she broke like uncorking a fine wine or even an ale from the Devoitan region, a rare find aboard ships for how swiftly the alcohol seemed to sour. The engines purred, sending a light, barely perceptible thrum through the ship as she flew serenely on, no doubt her second in command alert at the wheel. Pridestalker would fly without her for a time and, well, a captain had to have fun too.
Or else what was the point in capturing slaves?
"Fetch him for me," Naomi purred, dismissing her previous slave with a flick of her paw. "And have him stripped. I'll not have a clothed slave in my quarters."
For a moment, it looked as if the canine was about to strip down himself for her, but then remembered in time that he was no longer her slave and instead raced out to obey her direct command. Running her fingers through her long, shimmering, dark red hair, Naomi sighed lightly, whiskers quivering. Perhaps the first thing she'd have to have her new pleasure pup do was give her a good, long massage and a bath with those exotic oils too, just for that added note of relaxation.
Or maybe she'd have to use him right away in a more carnal manner. Her whims did change in a heartbeat, as it was. But it was the way of it and, oh, she'd have as much time as she wanted with the cute little dog.
Canines were her favourite, after all.
It was not long before he appeared, a heavy collar around the crossbreeds mix. Her crew had gotten out of him that he was a coyote, German Shepherd and husky mix, but that didn't matter to her. She only had eyes for his now luxurious yellow fur, the lines of brown that ran down his back and the way his tail curled up so beautifully as if he was already begging her to fuck him. The fact that he was a crossbreed mattered not. She'd have him.
She licked her lips. They all begged her in the end. Every last one of them. They all thought they couldn't be broken and yet she broke them all.
Tentatively, her old slave handed her the chain, which served as a leash, and she took it without looking, purring as she looked up and down the pup she was to abuse. Well, he'd probably been abused plenty by the section of her crew assigned purely to the task of training any captives turned slaves in the art of pleasure, but it was the first time she had lain eyes on him since he'd stepped off that Star Patrol cruiser. That had been weeks ago and he'd been in strict training ever since. There were others to do the ground work for her and, really, why should she have been the one to dirty her paws?
"Come."
She didn't watch her old slave leave, kicking the door closed behind the pup's yellow tail. Purring and flexing her claws, the lioness's tail flicked hungrily from side to side, although the prey she so dearly wanted to stalk was already chained before her, ready to be devoured.
The canine hung his head, quietly resting with his knees pushed apart, tail perpetually curled up over his buttocks. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through the creamy tufts on the underside and noted with a pleased bob of her muzzle that his cock was already out and hard, bragging an unformed knot at the base. That would hold what she needed in place very nicely, she was sure.
"What was your name?"
The question came crudely, abruptly, without any real purpose behind how it lashed out like the crack of a whip. He looked up at her slowly, ears folded back.
"Dom."
It was one word, but the stripping of it would hold more meaning than he could ever know. Her lips curved up in a wicked smile. Dumb dog.
"You won't use that name anymore," she said with a smirk. "But you'll have many others here."
That was the point where the slaves that still had that little bit of fight left in them, their indoctrination into sex slavery not yet complete, showed their true colours. Such a simple little phrase, but one's identity was truly personal, she knew. To her great pleasure, a wave of warm lust curling sinuously around her heart, he bent to her whim, muzzle submissively bowed and tail dipping as much as it was able.
"Yes, mistress," he murmured. "My name is whatever pleases you and no more."
