The feel of the mitts around his hands was still new, and the sensation of having a flesh and blood tail had not yet worked its way into the very centre of his mind. Tushie the petmale, who just two weeks before had been the free man Gary H--, sat nervously in his cell and waited for his Master to arrive. His tail twitched as he thought about what Master might do with him today.
Every so often another of the house's slaves walked by the barred doors of Tushie's cell. One earlier had brought food and water, the girl Marie, whose bare pussy had been clearly on show beneath her black PVC minidress. Tushie had winced as his caged dick had danced and strained, but Marie had just looked down on it and giggled, then walked away. No pity in her eyes for Tushie, but perhaps some affection, Tushie had thought.
So Tushie waited. He held the display position he had been trained to hold: mitts up against his chest, sat on his knees and the balls of his feet, legs open, eyes straight forward towards the cell door. Thoughts came and went: to think of escape hurt him, after the reprogramming routine Master had subjected him to. Instead, Tushie thought about the best way to please his Master, to make the man who had enslaved him happy, which would make Tushie happy too.
An hour after Tushie had taken his display position, Master came to collect him. The man who now owned Tushie appeared to be called Fellen, but Tushie was permitted to think of him only as Master, so that was what Tushie did. Master was tall, square-jawed, heavily built and in early middle-age, with a perfectly shaved shiny head and a greying beard. He leaned down and clipped a leash to his slim pet's collar, then led the boy out of the cell.
"Are you going to be a good puppy for me today, Tushie my sweetheart?" asked Master.
Tushie knew he had to yip and yap enthusiastically to please Master, and somehow since his reprogramming, it was easier and easier to just listen to the pet-slave voice inside him that said 'obey'. Yips and yaps resounded from Tushie's lips as he crawled behind his owner.
"Good boi, Tushie, good puppy," said Master, as he led the pet through the corridors of the old country house where Master and his many slaves lived, "today I have a treat lined up for my good boi Tushie, my excellent pet, who is going to behave so, so well for Master today. We're going to watch a little show put on for us by Marie, Petra and Bonnie, and you're going to help Master relax. It is the weekend, after all: did you know what day of the week it was, Tushie? No? No matter, pets don't need to know that."
Since his enslavement and reprogramming, Tushie's hands had not left the mitts that turned them into paws. He had not walked on two legs. He had not spoken a human word, or made a human gesture. His needs for food and drink were taken care of by the other slaves, and the house had a collection of drones and bots that could handle other personal care needs. Tushie was clear: this was his life. He served as nothing but a pet.
Master took them downstairs from the slave cells, onto the country house's middle floor, where he led Tushie on the leash into a small room with a little stage against the back wall. There were six plush seats arrayed in front of the stage; Master sat down in one, and he had Tushie kneel in front of another. Tushie took up display position, without thinking, and Master ruffled his hair in answer, which gave Tushie a rush of warmth through his whole body.
"Girls! Enter!" yelled Master.
From a little door behind the stage, Master's three slavegirls strutted out, as the lights dimmed, and dance music with a luscious beat kicked in. Master pulled Tushie's leash so that the petmale had to look right at the three girls on the stage, and with his other hand he unzipped his fly and took out his dick. Tushie stared straight ahead.
"Girls! Begin!" yelled Master.
Marie stood on the left, her pale skin shining in contrast to the black minidress. Next to her, in the middle of the row of dancing girls, stood Petra, a black woman in her late thirties, who wore a white lace bra and matching knickers; on the right stood Bonnie, a young redhead, who wore pink frilly panties and a transparent pink teddy on top.
The three girls gyrated together to the beat. Tushie watched as the girls' hands caressed each others' bodies, and he felt his trapped cock spasm with pent-up lust as the girls got each other into the mood and their bodies loosened up. Tushie knelt, open-mouthed, as the trio of slaves strutted and blew kisses to Master and to Tushie, and Master yelled out his encouragement.
"Puppy, did you know that when I enslaved Marie, when I took her from her world like I took you, she was just about to qualify as a doctor, if the stress didn't finish her off first? Look at her now, Tushie, look at the carefree girl I made her back into. Yesterday I spanked her until she cried and then she begged me to fuck her to make her day feel complete, Tushie. Yesterday I was inside that tight bare pussy your eyes can't get enough of, the one you'll never feel on your cock, Tushie. Because she's mine, Tushie, and so are you.
