Archive of Our Own

Swift chose the wrong creature to pickpocket.

It should have been an easy target; the black wolf was nearly double his stature in the middle of the forever-busy Central Market. No one noticed a mosquito until it was too late, though Swift would rather not be compared to a bug. A quick light-blue paw in and out of the wolf's loose suit pants pocket, then a brisk walk away to shroud suspicion. But no, he only got to take a single step before the towering monster grabbed his arm and didn't let go until the police arrived.

It took a couple of days for the lawyer to arrive at Swift's cell.

Benny, a chipmunk that could stand on one of Swift's paws and take a nap. He was in his cute little lawyer suit, which he always seemed to have, holding a binder with a bunch of professional papers.

Swift didn't get bail. Never bail. Foxes like him were "too sneaky" for a luxury like that. Besides, he didn't have the money. Benny told him straight.

"He's not looking to fine or imprison you—he's trying to domesticate you."

"What? He can't do that!" Domestication was usually the last resort for creatures unfit for society—murderers, gang members, repeat offenders. They were forcibly put up in an auction to be sold to a wealthy individual, put to work, and in return, they had all of their needs taken care of. It was always said that those who were domesticated were never seen again.

"It's your third offense, Swift. A forced domestication is certainly possible." Benny wasn't looking in his direction, instead sifting through his tiny papers.

"That's…" Swift shifted in his wooden chair. "That's not going to happen, right?"

"We'll do our best."

"Why would he do that, anyway?"

Benny pushed up his glasses, looking at him. "To 'clean the streets' is my best guess. I looked into him a little. Name's Loman Cenclaw. He's got a big wallet, but I don't have a read on him, so I can't say for sure."

"How big?"

"He's deep into the stock market. Well invested."

Groaning and leaning back, Swift said, "So I would have scored big if I hadn't been caught?"

Benny raised a brow at him before scoffing and packing his things up. "I'll be seeing you, Swift."

The court was nothing but a waste of time. Obviously, Swift thought, he wasn't someone who needed to be domesticated, and Loman was stupid for trying to do so.

The pelican judge looked at him with pity hidden somewhere in his gaze.

"I am granting you absolute discharge."

Swift wanted to pump his fists, but from what he's seen on TV, the judge would probably get mad and take back what he said. He didn't look over at Loman to see his reaction.

"You're young," the judge said. "You're energetic. Stop gambling your life with petty theft."

"Yes, your Honor."

"I'd better not see you in my courtroom again."

"Yes, your Honor. Thank you, your Honor."

And that brought him all the way to the present, days later. Swift was relaxing at home as usual, about to watch a show or a movie. He had enough space for himself here in his basement flat. There was a single, large two-in-one combo of a living room and kitchen, then his bedroom one door away.

He was about to find a show to watch when someone knocked on his door.

He hoped it wasn't his landlord, Charlie. He was always annoying to talk to. You could never have a normal conversation with that guy while he held your home over your head.

Tossing the TV remote at his old couch, Swift went to answer the door. When he did, all he could see were large black pawed feet, legs in dark brown jeans, and his eyes climbed the form hidden above his doorframe.

Swift jumped and yelped when he met the black wolf's face.

"Hello," Loman said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to visit." It looked like it hurt his neck to keep staring down at Swift like that. It sure made Swift's neck sore just mirroring him.

"Why?" Swift asked. "How did you even find me?"

"Your files. This place isn't as bad as I thought it would be, honestly. Just a bit messy."

The files he probably went through for the court case. Even Swift didn't know the full extent of what those files revealed about him.

Mustering the best glare to make him flee, Swift asked, "What do you want?"

"To chat. I was a bit curious about you."

"That's definitely not fucking weird."

Loman looked him over. "May I come in?"

"No! Go away!"

"I ordered us some pizza."

Swift was about to tell him to kick rocks, but then his stomach growled as if it were laughing at him. It made him think about his planned dinner. He didn't want to eat Petty's for the fifth time this week. The food was fine, but after abusing his employee discount for months now, it got old quickly.

Suddenly, pizza sounded much more appealing.

He thought it over one last time before replying. "…Fine. We can talk." He was curious, all things considered.

After Swift stepped back to let him in, Loman had to duck to enter through his doorframe. The guy looked even larger than usual in his flat, head nearly grazing the ceiling. His footsteps were audible on the wooden floors, even through his pads.

Loman took a moment to look around the room, and Swift felt invaded all of a sudden. While he was wearing an old, casual hoodie matching the white fur on his middle and baggy sweats, Loman wore a navy blue coat. Everything one inch away from his fur tseemed to be the richest things in the flat, including the flat. It didn't matter.

The two of them sat down on the couch, and Loman took the remote before Swift could and started shifting through Clawflix. He sat like a sophisticated, evil businessman seen in movies, and his cologne was subtle but strong when it reached the nose. Growling, Swift snatched the remote away. Loman didn't look surprised.

"You said talk, not use my limited internet. What's your deal trying to have me domesticated?" Was Loman doing some private investigation on him? The judge said it was his last chance, so there was no way Swift was going to try to steal again. But, of course, foxes weren't known for being so… honest. Damn racists.

"Your file said you dropped out of college and work at a minimum wage restaurant, living alone on skid row. I wanted to make sure you were alright, so I came to check up on you."

"Skid row." Swift rolled his eyes. "It isn't that bad down here."

Loman waited three seconds, scratching a stain on Swift's couch, and there was a scream from outside sneaking past the walls.

Swift crossed his arms and hit his back against the couch. "Happens everywhere. Living down here makes you tough. As you can see, I'm fine."

"Your landlord steals most of your paycheck and you're eating food from work."

"You ordered us pizza."

"That's not the point. I'm surprised you have enough for Clawflix. Ah, wait." He snatched the remote back before Swift could react and went to change the user. "It seems I have the wrong white and blue fox. Apologies, Lamar."

Swift grumbled. "Okay, so what? I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"That's fair. Don't let me tell you how to live."

A silent few seconds passed before Loman went back to going through shows.

"To 'check up on me?' Like I asked for that? Why do you even care?"

"Am I wrong to care?"

"It's… weird. You're like my tenth-grade teacher checking up on students' personal lives. Or it's like tending to me like a pet—" Freezing up, Swift thought for a second before standing up. "You piece of shit."

He went in front of Loman to block the TV.

"That's why you tried to domesticate me!"

Loman nodded, waving the remote back and forth. "That's what the system is for, yes. To help those who can't help themselves."

"No, no. I get that. What I didn't understand was why you wanted it to happen so badly! Why you're here right now, asking how I'm doing!" Benny mentioned he had a lot of money from stocks. "You were going to have me domesticated, and then immediately buy me!"

Loman smiled like Swift hadn't said the most insane thing. "It's very hard to see how you dropped out. You're sharp."

"Call it fox intuition," Swift held his hips. "You're not going to storm in here and—"

There was an abrupt knock at the door.

"Hey, your doorbell doesn't work!" the delivery guy said behind the door.

Swift went to move, but Loman stopped him with a large paw.

"I said I'll pay," he said, standing up and heading over to the door. The delivery driver made a startled sound when he opened it, but nothing else came of it. Swift, meanwhile, found an action movie (that was short so Loman wouldn't have the excuse to stay long) and put it on. Before Loman returned to the couch, he gave Swift an odd look over it and went over to the kitchen sink, placing the pizza box down and washing his paws.

Contemplating for a second, Swift followed Loman to the sink.

"You're stupid if you think you can convince me to willingly let the city domesticate me," Swift said.

"Is that what I'm here for?" Loman laughed, finishing and moving over for Swift. "I meant what I said. I came to see if you were alright."

"And as you can see, I'm fine."

"I do see that." His voice salivated with sarcasm as he dried his paws with a cloth. "You're doing very well for yourself."

With heat rising in his chest, Swift said, "I know it's not a five-star hotel, but it's mine, and it's enough for me."

Loman's face flickered between confidence and surprise. His paws stopped moving. He believed him, Swift thought.

It was wordless after that. Swift finished cleaning his paws, and the two of them watched the movie on his couch. He kept most of his focus on the movie, but the rest on the unknown Loman. Loman, meanwhile, didn't drag his gaze over to Swift once, and Swift wondered what was splashing around inside his head; the movie wasn't that good to keep his attention away. Maybe he had convinced him he didn't need to be taken care of after all.

"Thank you for having me," Loman said, about to leave after the movie finished.

Swift rolled his eyes. "Thanks for showing up unannounced… and for the pizza. I'll, uh, pay you back half when I can."

Loman waved an uncaring hand. "You can pay me back by welcoming me in again."

Blinking, Swift blurted out, "Huh?"

Loman was already walking up the narrow stairs leading to the outside streets.

"Hey, wait! I never said—" He huffed, thinking it was better not to yell in the middle of the night.

Loman appeared at his doorstep two days later, an hour after Swift finished work.

Swift tried to make his deadpan as clear as possible. "I didn't think you'd come back."

"I said I would."

"Go away."

With a large pawed foot, Loman stopped the door from shutting. "I brought fried rice."

Swift was about to slam the door on his foot repeatedly until he retracted, but the delicious smell of the food made his system glow with delight. It smelled just like that one place in Center Mall he always wanted to try but never got to doing so.

"Better not be poisoned," he muttered, opening the door.

Once Loman sat down on his couch, he asked, "How's work?"

"Same old. Doesn't matter." Why did he care?

"Any plans for the weekend?"

"Just me and my TV."

Loman hummed at that, and he didn't sound too impressed.

The next day, Loman was over again.

"No!" Swift blocked his entire doorway, although the wolf, double his size, could shred him in seconds. "Stop trying to win me over with food!"

"Oh. So you don't mind this instead?" He held up a thin, square plastic box.

Swift blinked. "Is that… Starlink 2?"

"I noticed your SuperCore 5," Loman said with a smile. "I didn't think you'd enjoy getting berated over your financial decisions, but if you'd rather that…"

Swift took the hint and snatched the game, hurrying over to his console. "You have a controller?" he asked.

Loman sat down. "No, why?"

"Uh, nothing."

"Afraid I'll dirty yours with my filthy paws?"

Swift looked over his two controllers. One was garbage with sticky face-buttons and a control stick that drifted left, the other as good as any used one found online.

Biting his tongue, Swift offered Loman the better controller.

Split screen, as always, wasn't the best for a first-person shooter. Swift's TV wasn't that big either, and the couch was spaced far enough away that it was hard to see enemies to shoot. It shouldn't have been that hard since they were playing against AI in the story mode, but because of all of that, plus his garbage controller, it was as if they were on the hardest difficulty.

Slowly, it became harder and harder to hide his irritation, and before he knew it, he had a glare resting on his face for zero rent. His look mostly pointed at his TV, but whenever he died, he aimed it at his controller, which he wanted to twist and throw and get rid of. He couldn't. If his backup broke, and then his good controller broke, he wouldn't have anything else to use, and he couldn't afford another one.

He could sell the broken one across Low City by listing it as "used." Some sucker would buy it off his hands. Maybe he could just get the buttons to stop sticking, so a quick test wouldn't expose anything.

"That one's broken, isn't it?"

Snapping out his thoughts, Swift noticed Loman staring at him.

"It's fine."

"Here. Use your other one."

"I said it's fine."

"Stop being stubborn. I'll watch for a bit."

"What do you mean by 'watch'?" Swift rolled his eyes. "It's your game. I'll watch if anything."

Loman shook his head before grabbing Swift and setting him on his lap, pushing his controller into Swift's hands.

A jolt went through Swift at the close contact.

"Play," Loman said, tone hard. "I said stop being stubborn. I brought it over so you could play. So—play."

Swift stared at his controller. At first, he didn't realize he was sitting on Loman's lap, but feeling the warmth against his back quickly reminded him that this wasn't normal in the slightest.

He jumped off and retreated to the other side of the couch. Loman only grinned at him. "Fuck off!"

"What?" Loman raised a brow. "I thought foxes were affectionate and loved cuddling."

Growling, Swift turned to the game. "That's fucking racist."

"Your blush proves me right."

The day after that, Loman stood at his doorstep with his hands in his jeans pockets.

He caught Swift staring at his hidden paws, and a smirk came to him.

"We're not stuffing ourselves in your home all week," he said, gesturing to the stairs with his head. "Come on."

Swift really didn't want to. It was late, the sun was setting, but he wasn't tired. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do, though, so he found himself reluctantly following.

After a few seconds on the sidewalk, Swift said, "Better be interesting, or I'm going back to my couch."

"Of course."

They took the bullet train to Middle City. As always, the train never disappointed and was fast as shit with unnoticeable bumps on the tracks. The ride wasn't all too bad. For once, Swift had someone sitting beside him, and because of Loman's imposing… everything, no one bothered them.

Loman brought him to a large theater that looked way too expensive. Taking the bullet train across the entire city for a whole month was probably still cheaper. The golden entrance was enormous, with crossing beams of spotlights shooting up to the sky in front of the tall door. More lights illuminated the golden walls outside, past the pillars serving as support. Swift felt dizzy just lifting his gaze to look at it.

"I shouldn't be here."

Loman grabbed his wrist, his grip incredibly strong, so Swift couldn't run off if he wanted to. "Relax. Stay near me and no one will think about approaching us. Just like the train."

The inside was grand enough that Swift expected someone on stage to declare war against another city. It was like a damn castle in here, with hundreds of seats looking at the stage. Loman had tickets for seats not too far from the stage, but high enough that they had to look down to watch.

The play wasn't the most boring thing to watch. Swift wasn't all too invested, but Loman seemed to really like it. A couple of minutes into the play, a few latecomers entered and quietly passed them. The cow and giraffe didn't hide the fact that they noticed the empty seats beside Swift and Loman before eyeing the two canines, scrunching up their faces in disgust and turning tail.

The gentle smile Loman had given them completely vanished. "Should have gotten a box seat…"

Swift didn't think about it before, but obviously, Loman was a mean-looking canine like him. He was way scarier at his height and darker fur. If Swift had met him differently, he might have died from a heart attack. How often did it affect him in society?

"You alright?" Loman asked, which confused Swift because he should be asking that. He was used to it by now.

"…Yeah."

"I am quite a… large attraction. Don't you think?" Loman's smile returned.

Swift grinned back. "You're the largest wolf I've ever met."

He chuckled. "Timber wolves are the largest breed, and I'm the largest in my family."

Did Loman often come to these shows alone?

The play continued to be interesting like vanilla. Nothing too special, but Swift wasn't falling asleep. One part of it, however, grabbed him and made his eyebrows shoot up.

One of the side characters was domesticated, getting degraded by being forced to do chores and other more explicit services. The play was making it seem like a good thing, giving them rewards and coddling them.

That piece of shit.

Loman also had his eyes widened as if he didn't expect that.

Down near the front, some of the guests had smaller creatures cradled in their laps. Children weren't allowed in here, Swift reminded himself. Upon closer inspection, there were even some creatures kneeling beside someone or even between their legs.

One bunny wasn't even looking at the play; it was completely turned around, deepthroating a lizard's cock.

Swift stormed out.

He walked a fair distance away from the theater when Loman caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

Swift shook him off.

"I didn't know that was a part in the play!"

Swift snapped to him. "Yeah? Okay, so you didn't know about the other creatures bringing in their domesticated pets?" He scoffed. "And look at how they were being used. I'd say 'fuck you,' but that's exactly what you want to do, you sick fuck! This whole time, ever since you tried domesticating me in court, you just wanted to fuck me."

"Swift—"

"And that's why you're at my door almost every day, too. Don't follow me, and this time I mean it."

The ride on the bullet train back was cold.

Days passed. Loman lingered on Swift's mind.

Food tasted stale. But Swift should have expected that from frozen, canned, or instant packs of garbage.

The couch seemed bigger than before, more empty. Swift didn't feel like watching anything. He still had Starlink 2 that Loman bought, but he didn't feel like playing it either. He should really return it.

The more he thought about Loman, the less mad he was. Okay, he was still mad about Loman trying to domesticate him, but all the other shit was essentially setting up loving dates. Loman could have been clearer, though. If he had asked Swift out, maybe he would have accepted?

Okay, maybe not.

It should have been a warning, really, being called into work early one day.

It was a holiday for beavers, or something equally as fucking stupid, so a bunch of creatures used it as an excuse to drop by. By the end of the day, all the cleaning of tables, serving rude guests, and washing dishes exhausted Swift. He had stayed an extra two hours as well, all for the amazing reward of having to come in again tomorrow!

Of course, it had to be raining as well, which soaked his fur. It only worsened when a group of teens found it hilarious to splash him by driving over a puddle. Their laughs were less annoying than the train being too packed to take, at least.

He ordered a Stallion, and thankfully, he had the subway to shield him from the pouring rain to wait for it. The driver was an old eagle in a rusty car made a thousand years ago.

"Thirty extra because you soaked my seats," the eagle said once they arrived at Swift's house.

Swift shivered. "It's water."

"And I won't be able to pick up any more people tonight with my seats cold and wet."

Too tired to argue, Swift told the eagle to wait, and he ran inside his house quickly to scrounge thirty dollars through two tens and plenty of coins. He kicked his bedside table out of anger before heading back.

Under the barrage of rain, he quickened over to the driver and handed him the money.

"Tip?" the driver asked, holding out a wing.

"Does…" Swift threw both of his paws at the building that had his basement flat. "Does it look like I have enough for a tip?"

"Just a little extra wouldn't hurt. We have to watch out for each other. I thought you didn't tip through the app because you knew the company takes some of it."

"I… I, uh…"

"Come on, friend. From one poor sap to another?"

"He said no."

Loman draped an arm around Swift and held his shoulder, his icy eyes downcast on the eagle. The eagle didn't match Loman's gaze for long, showing what little intelligence he had and driving off. Loman then looked Swift over, immediately noticing how much he was soaking.

"Come on."

Swift didn't shrug him off, but still found annoyance driving into him. He kept shivering, and that was the only reason he didn't shout at Loman and shove him away. The water felt like shackles on the way to his bathroom.

"Your water isn't getting warm." Loman turned to Swift, having tested the water with his paw for nearly five minutes now.

Swift, wrapped in a towel, shook his head. He made a sound when Loman lifted him up to carry him. "Hey! I already told you I'm not fucking you!"

"I don't want to!" Loman said back.

"Then stop trying to take care of me!"

"I will not leave you here to take a cold shower while you're drenched in freezing rainwater! You haven't stopped shaking since outside! And you've been sniffing this entire time."

A comedian must have forced Swift to sniff at that perfect moment.

Loman kept Swift close to his chest. "Now stop complaining and let me take care of you."

"So-so you can—"

"As a friend! On the sacred Blue Moon, you still think I'm chasing after that? If you don't want to be friends just tell me so!"

"…Fine."

Loman ordered a Stallion, and of course, the same idiotic eagle made a circle from blocks away and came back. He asked again if Loman had a tip for him, and Loman promised triple if he ceased haggling. The eagle didn't speak much after that.

Loman sat in the back with Swift on his lap and close to his chest. He was so warm, Swift thought, finding himself instinctively burying closer in his fur. It was just fox instincts. Because he was cold. It was the closest source of heat. His natural instincts were to survive.

"I thought foxes were affectionate and loved cuddling."

Swift flushed, and he thanked his instincts for hiding it in Loman's fur. It wasn't the only part of him that gained heat. He pressed his knees together, begging his groin not to respond any more than it did. Just thinking about it hardening in this situation urged it further. Loman wouldn't notice, hopefully, through his concern for Swift. Loman was genuinely concerned for him. Screamed through the firm but gentle hold of his arms. The find warmed him further, in more places than just his core.

They passed through Middle City and reached Upper City, the "groomed" part of the city, as Lower City called it. The eagle, as much of an asshole as he was, wasn't a dangerous driver, so they got there safely. It must have been the massive tip Loman promised.

Here in Upper was way more luxurious than where the theater was in Middle. Swift would probably get arrested for just being seen walking around here—from his appearance in both species and clothes. He hid his face in Loman's chest when they got out of the car.

They stopped at a suite building, the tallest in the area. Loman paid his promise to the eagle and entered. In the elevator down the lobby, he pressed a button for his floor, and they rode up. It was a far ride. It kept going, and Benny's voice reminded Swift that Loman was rich enough to have space at the very top of the building.

Swift didn't get to see the fancy hallway outside of the elevator leading to Loman's suite. He didn't get to see Loman unlock his door and enter. Didn't get to see anything before entering the bathroom, which looked as if it were made for the king of the world when Loman put him down and set up the large bath for him.

"I'll, erm, give you some privacy. Shout if you need anything," Loman said, leaving the bathroom.

The bath was warm enough that Swift could live in it. He could fall asleep here and never wake up for days. His body quickly forgot the cruelties of outside weather and instead found a cozy blanket. He felt so away that when Loman knocked on the door, he jumped.

"Hey, I'm not coming in, just leaving warm clothes. I don't have any in your size, but this will do."

Loman only opened the door partially and sneaked in a giant bright-purple hoodie on the sink counter. When Swift eventually left the bath and dried himself, he tried on the sweater, finding it covering comfortably below his knees, so it was fine for the time being, even if it was hard reaching out of the sleeves.

Swift met Loman in his large, expansive living room, which alone was triple his flat's size. When he kept sneezing, Loman offered his bed and went off to bring him soup. It was the best broth he ever had.

"The offer's still on the table."

Swift stared at the back of Loman's head, the dark, warm wolf sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Not to bang!" Loman reassured, sounding oddly crude. "I promise. But I can help you get back on your paws. I have more than enough money. Let me help you out—as a friend?"

Swift met his look with a frown. "If… you want to. Sure."

"Alright. Rest up."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be on my couch if you need anything."

A sharp fang of panic bit into him. "No."

"No?" Loman stopped, turning to him.

Swift shifted over on the bed.

"Sleep on your own damn bed."

"Sleep—with you?" Loman raised a brow. "Are you sure?"

Swift nodded. The bedroom window gave a vast view of the city. He could gaze down for hours. "You never had a sleepover? Took a trip with a friend? Don't forcefully make it weird."

The bed would have bounced no matter how well Loman tried to gently slide onto it.

Days passed, and Swift rested through his cold like a kit. Loman helped him any way he could.

He awoke one morning, feeling fine, and Loman wasn't in the room with him. Swift found him in the kitchen making breakfast.

Pointing to the sofa, Loman said, "Washed your clothes. If you want to change."

Swift only just realized he had no underwear on all this time, his underwear on top of his shirt, sweater, and pants. He pulled up his underwear, but left everything else there. The hoodie was way too comfortable, but he'd probably have to change out of it after wearing it for days now.

Loman made waffles. Fresh, sweet, and melting in the mouth, Loman had to be a world-class chef or something.

"How are you feeling?" Loman asked.

"Better now. Thank you." Swift took two fork stabs of waffles before speaking again. "So… about domesticating me."

Loman's eyes widened.

"Life's just…" Swift shrugged. "It's hard, you know. You have money, and I don't want to be a bother."

"You wouldn't be. I meant what I said before. You're my friend. You don't have to be domesticated to live here. I promise."

"Okay. I just don't think I'd mind it as much as I probably said I would at first? I know you… felt me when you carried me here."

Loman set his cup of coffee down with a solid knock. "I'm serious, Swift. You don't need to do all of that. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"I'm being serious too!" Swift sat tall in the chair, clearly meant for larger creatures like Loman; he had to climb it like a toddler. "You said it yourself, didn't you?" A sly grin came to him. "Foxes love affection and cuddles."

Loman looked as if Swift were a stranger. "You were so apprehensive before."

"Yeah. Didn't seem like you cared before. You just wanted a cute fox to fuck."

"I did." Loman sounded sincerely guilty. "Or, rather, it was twenty percent wanting to help someone in need, and eighty thinking with my cock. Now's different, though."

Sly grin still, Swift propped an elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his fist. "What are the percentages now? One hundred to zero."

"I wouldn't… say that."

"How did we reverse the roles? Now you're being apprehensive."

Sighing, Loman said, "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I trust you a bit more now."

"Do you? You know what you're signing up for, right?"

Swift shrugged. "Hit me."

Loman leaned forward, holding his cup of coffee with both paws. "When you're domesticated, most of your rights will be stripped. I'll be your caretaker, your dom, your alpha, whatever fancy way you want to call it, and everything you own will come to me. Of course, there are still laws that exist to protect you from abuse, but you'll be considered a lesser creature in society."

Looking away, Swift said. "I'm still considered that now."

"You'd be… surrendering yourself to me."

"Doesn't sound too bad." He smirked. "I get to be rich without working? And I get a friend?"

Although Loman's face softened, his tone was still cold as rain. "Swift, don't think for a second I'll waste my opportunity with you. You won't have a choice."

"About time I lost my anal virginity."

"Swift!" An aggravated exhale. "I'm really trying to be better for you."

"Don't you think that's why I'm fine with it in the first place?"

That froze Loman in place.

"You could have reported my situation a couple of days ago. You didn't, though. You're not trying to force me, and I'm consenting now. Why are you being weird?"

Loman sighed as if he had finally found a solution to a long-standing problem. "Your dick took over your brain. Jack off a couple of times and think it over. I'll give you a week."

"Sure."

"I'm fucking serious. Masturbate and think with a clear head."

Loman left his kitchen in a hurry after putting his dishes in the sink, and once Swift heard the front door open and close, he slid off his chair, landing on the floor. The sink was high enough that Swift needed to stretch up on his toes to carefully place his plate in Loman's sink. This place was probably custom-made for Loman from what Swift knew.

With his grin lingering, Swift pulled his underwear down, which made his half-erect cock bounce. The oversized sweater would hide him well enough.

Loman had ordered movers to bring Swift's personal things in. Swift had nothing in particular to be concerned about (Loman already had everything but better), but the movers handled his possessions like pros. Even if he wasn't getting domesticated, he was still moving in either way.

Loman also bought two brand new controllers and they played games together, focusing on co-op games rather than forcing splitscreen. Before they knew it, they were smiling at each other like any other friends would, whether it was playing a video game, or watching a movie, or eating. It was like grade school again, hanging out with friends, but this time, those afternoons never ended. He tested the waters a bit and asked Loman if he could get a computer setup. He was reluctant to ask at the beginning. If things were different, if Swift had been domesticated, he wouldn't have been reluctant. He was, by the correct definition, a freeloader.

Loman kept looking weird whenever Swift lazed about, and it took a few days for a lightbulb to turn on in his head, remembering he wasn't wearing underwear or even Loman's boxers. He hadn't even asked Loman to buy him new clothes or wear his old ones. Whenever he needed a change, he found himself heading over to Loman's part of the closet instead of his own.

"Be honest. Did you ever masturbate and think?"

"Yes."

It was days later, and they had called it for the night, both lying in bed ready to sleep.

Loman tried to wrap his arms around Swift, but Swift quickly squirmed out of his hold.

"See? You don't want this."

The smirk Swift had been occasionally wearing these past few days entered the room and sat on his face. "No. I'm just not letting you do anything before you domesticate me."

"You mean before you lose the right to say no?"

"I meant what I said."

Silence took over them for a moment. Even the city was quiet, the suite too high up in the sky to pick up its sounds.

"One year."

Loman sat up on an elbow. "What?"

"As long as you apply, you have the freedom to choose to be domesticated for a limited time. One year—or month if you want."

Loman turned away. "It's baffling that you'd entrust yourself to me even if it's just a test year."

"Only because you'd respect it if I started hating it and lay off."

"Swift." Loman gave a hard glare. "I'm telling you, I won't hold back. You will call every fantasy I try sick and depraved!"

"And the moment I beg you to stop, you will."

Loman paused, shutting his jaw.

Swift continued, coolly lying on his side. "That wasn't the case before, during the trial. Now you would."

"How can you be so sure? I might not."

A light passed through their room, come and gone as the city has always been.

"I already told you. You would have reported me the moment you could days ago. You didn't, and now we're here in the opposite seats."

Staring at Loman for a moment, Swift's grin grew.

"You never said I'm wrong. We have a deal? One month?"

"A whole year!"

Loman bent down so he was up in Swift's face, eyes narrowing. For the first time since he was brought here, Swift tensed a bit. At the end of it, he called out Loman's goading.

"Cool," he said, and Loman recoiled. "Now, if you don't mind. I'll just be using the last of my freedom before tomorrow."

He lifted the hem of the Loman's hoodie he was wearing and wrapped his paw around his hardening cock.

"H-hey!"

"You can stay and watch if you want." Swift began to stroke. "I'm still not consenting, though. This is so you can see for yourself that I'm not 'thinking with my dick.'"

He drew out the session, making the large monster in the room stutter and squirm like a pup. At some point, Loman's eyes never left Swift's red, throbbing knot. Swift wanted to keep delaying himself, but with Loman actively locked onto him, it proved to be a very difficult mission. It was fine. He was going to get a much better reward very soon.

After he came all over his chest under Loman's hoodie, he said, "Yeah. Post-nut clarity is at my door, and I'm still fine."

"I'll…" Loman blinked twice before clearing his throat and forcing his eyes away. "A towel. I'll get you a towel."

When he returned with a towel, Swift asked, "You sure you don't want to rub one out too?" He began cleaning himself. "You looked pretty stressed."

A piercing leer made Swift freeze up, pinning him down at the side of the bed.

"You… alright?"

Swift never thought he'd hear Loman, the towering beast of a canine, growl. So deep and guttural that Swift had to double-check if Loman was feral. "By the Blue Moon, I'll use you to relieve my stress once you're mine. You have my word."

A shiver ran through Swift, making him question if the window was left open. He stayed silent.

"Goodnight," was all Loman said, turning over on his side, facing away from Swift.

The Domestication Clinic was somewhere between Middle and Upper City. It wasn't too far, but it was far enough that Loman drove.

"You never drove to my house." Swift, wearing his own shirt and jeans now, looked at every inch of Loman's expensive sports car like an influencer would. He was never a car-dude. "Didn't think you had a car."

"I preferred taking transit." The keys jingled as Loman took them out of his pocket.

"Didn't want to show off?"

He didn't miss the way Loman flushed. "Wanted to put myself in your shoes."

Swift pouted. "Rude."

"I don't mean anything by it."

"I know."

After Swift mentioned the cool interior of the car, they didn't talk for the ride. It was all lights and touch screens, and Loman didn't mention he traveled to the future, but Swift assumed as much. He caught a lot of people staring at the car, and nearly every time, they noticed the driver or passenger. Eyes retreated very quickly after that. It was annoying, as it always was, but Swift didn't mind it as much now, sharing the burden of a mistrusted canine with someone else now. The car ride stayed silent. Neither of them reached for the console to turn on music.

When they got to the Domestication Clinic, Swift had to brace his head close to the window to look at its height. It was way larger than he expected, seeming more a factory than a professional building. Inside was as dull as a hospital, colorlessly strict with the plain white walls demanding behavior.

The front desk didn't have a long line. There were barely any people here, and no one had a domesticated pet with them, which included Loman, for now.

They waited around twenty minutes for Swift to be called. When Loman tried to follow, he was ordered by the soft violet cat to stay waiting; Swift would have a private interview.

The cat, Ingrid, first verified Swift's identity. Then questioned him about his mental health, both current and past.

"We checked your record, Mr. Bunger," she said. "You were recently on trial for theft and nearly sentenced to forced domestication, but fought against it. You're also forfeiting yourself to the same creature whom you were fighting against in court. You understand why that sounds concerning, correct?"

Swift nodded, trying to think from an outside point of view. "I understand, ma'am. I'm consenting to this."

Ingrid cleared her throat. A barrage of questions.

"Why do you seek domestication?"

"Do you understand what rights you're forfeiting?"

"Are you being coerced by Mr. Cenclaw?"

"Have you taken any drugs recently?"

"You want to limit your domestication to only a year. May I ask why?"

That one was the easiest yet, the weight on his chest lifting. "In case it doesn't work out."

Ingrid tapped her pen on her polished wooden desk. "In that case, why not a month?"

"A year isn't that long. I'm confident."

"Your confidence could trap you with that wolf for a year."

Forehead wrinkling, he said, "That's very racist of you, madam."

She stared at him for a moment before letting out a breath. "You're right. Excuse me for that. I'm simply concerned. That might be the largest wolf I've seen."

"I appreciate that." It was nice to see a government worker actually show worry. He never forgot about the jail guards. "And sorry if I sound rude, but my life is none of your business. Does anything in Loman's record show that he can't be trusted?"

Ingrid closed her eyes. "I can't disclose anything about Loman. To keep things professional, I'll say that nothing on there alarms me—except his court case with you. With these specific circumstances involving your history with Mr. Cenclaw, I'm sending you to be physically examined. If you're wearing anything underneath your clothing, please head over to one of the private rooms and remove it. Take Loman with you if he's required. If nothing comes up during your physical examination, once you get back here, we'll have you sign the binding contracts."

Swift had nothing hidden under his clothes, so it was a quick in and out with the physical examiner. The nice boar checked if Swift had any irregularities, did an X-ray, and checked in places Swift never thought to check before, like deep inside his ear canals and his anus. The board insisted he had to check for shit like prostate cancer, so it was just like any odd trip to the doctors in that room.

Back with Ingrid, Loman was there now. An untamperable camera was set up as another form of proof for Swift signing anything with consent. Three more staff members also stood near the door to the office as witnesses—the boar from before, a lion, and a badger. Suddenly, Swift felt a lump form in his throat. They were taking this seriously, weren't they? It made sense. He was about to make such a large, potentially dangerous decision. One look at Loman reassured his worries, though. He trusted Loman.

"Are you sure it wasn't the high-quality food dulling your senses?" Loman asked when he noticed Swift looking at him.

That sly smirk crawled out of another dimension, returning to his face. "It's the idea that I get to eat it without freeloading."

"The moment we're done here, you're going to find out what you signed up for."

"The moment we're done here, you're going to find out what I signed up for."

"Was that… a threat?"

"Was it?"

"You're being obnoxious."

Ingrid gave one long look at Swift. He couldn't recognize the expression, and the most he could come up with was something along the lines of, "That makes more sense." She slid a pen and a printed sheet of paper to him.

"This is to transfer your autonomy. Good. And this signature is proof that you understand this is irrevocable. Sign here and here next."

Swift kept signing. Initial after initial. His wrist started to sore. There was less required for his basement flat than his freedom, and he had no idea how to feel about that.

Taking the documents and pen back, Ingrid slid over an odd-looking device slightly bigger than a smartphone but smaller than a tablet, flat and circular with a smooth top: a pawprint scanner.

"Scan both paws, please."

With his heartbeat pounding out of his ears, Swift scanned his right paw first. The machine whined in a high pitch, the smooth top glowing blue, then it thrummed. He retrieved his paw, shaking from both nervousness and excitement. His left was next.

"Alright." Ingrid slid another paper—only one—towards Loman, not Swift.

Loman signed his signature with enough pressure that everyone in the room could hear the pen hurt the table under the paper. His fancy initials echoed in Swift's ears, dancing around before settling. Swift, somehow, managed to stay in his seat. When he was finished, Ingrid typed on her desktop, and a moment later, a paper swam out of her printer. She offered it to Loman.

"This is your temporary license. You will be sent a digital license by email and a physical one by shipment. Congratulations, Loman Cenclaw, Swift Bunger is now your Intelligent Domesticated Pet."

"Here you are, Sir." The lion handed Loman a standard leather collar and leash.

Loman accepted them, waited a moment, then turned to look down at Swift next to him, his eyes cold.

"Strip."

Swift's stomach became an endless pit. "What?" he didn't end up asking. Looking at the items Loman held to Loman's stare. He shivered.

"The moment we're done here, you're going to find out what you signed up for."

Surely Loman didn't mean the moment, in the same span of a minute that he signed.

He wasn't about to order Swift to strip in front of these four professional workers, right? All four of them didn't even look surprised, or confused, or different at all. In fact, the lion and boar were in hushed, casual conversation.

A nervous smile somehow found him. "No."

Ingrid's hum bounced in the room, as if she finally understood something. She turned to her computer, and Swift had a feeling she wouldn't turn back to him.

"I said strip. I won't say it again.

Loman was being serious. His tone was a cage that didn't allow arguments to escape. He wanted Swift to unclothe and expose himself in front of these workers.

Swift's smile faltered, just a little. "N-no." He looked over to Ingrid. He wasn't acting obnoxious anymore. Not entirely anyway. The words were slaughtered straight from his cords.

He signed all the papers and scanned his prints. It was on camera with four witnesses. Even if he begged, there was nothing any of them could do to help him if they wanted to.

Swift jumped out of his seat and backed away. The standing workers went to grab him, but one word, in an empowering voice that increased the room's density, made them still.

"Stop." Loman's eyes petrified even the workers, who didn't match his gaze as Swift did. "He's my property. I will handle him as I'm expected to."

Swift's back greeted the wall, and after a blink, Loman approached, flipped him around, and pinned him to it with a large paw on his back.

Swift whimpered. It was so silent in the room that everyone had to have heard him.

Then, Loman's paws were slow and soft on him. He pulled the leather collar over Swift's head, bringing it down to his delicate neck, and strapping it tight enough to hold presence but not choke. Keeping Swift against the wall, Loman lifted his shirt, forcing Swift to raise his arms so he could pull it off. With Swift now shirtless, Loman kneeled and brought his arms around his torso, unbuttoning his jeans. He then pulled them and his underwear down with one firm, sharp movement, exposing the rest of Swift to open office air, his ass cheeks to the workers, whose eyes cracked the back of his skull.

Loman ordered him to step out of his bundled jeans, which he did with a quiver, and flipped him around again so they faced each other. He held Swift's chin and tilted his head up, because although Loman was kneeling, his head still stood taller.

Swift heard the leash clip to his collar. Only the lion seemed interested enough to stare, which was within his rights to do. It was enough for heat to spread across Swift's face. A part of his cock was already out of its sheath, after all. Before he could blurt out anything stupid, Loman leaned in and took him by the lips, muffling his sounds and attacking with his tongue. The kiss was quick; it was a tad sloppy, but a part of Swift wanted more.

"I'd suggest a harness," the lion said. "Have a good day, Mr. Cenclaw."

Like the leather collar and basic leash, a leather muzzle, cuffs, and harness were all provided by the government at one's request. They were standard, ordinary, like cheese on pizza, and only temporary. Swift didn't need a promise that Loman, who had plenty of money, would be taking him shopping soon.

Walking out of the Domestication Clinic muzzled, wrists behind the back, collared and leashed, Swift was dragged by Loman across the parking lot. His white-furred balls dangled below, teased cock giving mild jumps as animals gave him looks as they made their way to Loman's car. The collar was a constant weight of his predicament, a tap on the shoulder to keep him in check.

He had to let Loman buckle his seatbelt, and he could only look with eyes above the muzzle for conversation. Loman offered an image of Swift's signature smirk, ruffling his head, before looping the end of the leash on the grip handle above and closing the passenger door.

The drive back home was, thankfully, quick. No one had spotted his predicament from what Swift saw with his darting eyes, and they were back in Loman's parking garage before long. Loman had to get out and come around to help Swift out. He held the folder with all of the documents (and his temporary license with a one-year expiry date) in one armpit and led Swift along.

The elevator down here had no traffic, and Swift blew a sigh of relief inside his muzzle before realizing it was just delaying the inevitable. They rode it up two floors before it stopped, and his stomach crashed.

"Relax," Loman said, petting his head as the doors opened and two monkey women stepped in. "We're not going to the lobby just yet. Tomorrow. I have to update your information here as well."

The women glanced at him, and he did everything in his little power to not meet their eyes. His cock gave a single beat. A part of him was enjoying this.

The women, not as rich as Loman, it seemed, got off around floor twenty, and they rode the elevator the rest of the way up. For a moment, Swift wondered if Loman was going to take him to the roof, just a floor above, and lift him high, showing him off like Simba from The Human King. The thought made him smile, but he kept his laughter.

Loman brought him inside their suite and took off his muzzle, cuffs, and harness, unclipping the leash and leaving the collar alone. "Go wait for me in my room."

My room. It wasn't Swift's share anymore. He didn't have the right. He was simply another piece of furniture, another item he'd leave on a table.

Swift waited. Loman sure took his time. He occasionally heard him in the other rooms, but could never make out what he was doing. Swift waited on the bed, kicking his legs back and forth when Loman decided to take his time. Contemplation ran through, wondering if he should go peek and see if Loman was actually coming, or if he sat down to watch television. He wouldn't just leave him here in silence to wait, right?

When Loman entered the room and spotted Swift on the bed, Swift went frigid, gripping the bedsheets tight. He made a sound of disapproval.

Swift couldn't have dodged out of the way if he wanted to. He couldn't even react.

On his back now, Loman kept him trapped on the bed, looking him over with hunger in his eyes.

"Pets aren't allowed on furniture without permission," he said. And although he mentioned it, he didn't punish Swift, as if knowing he hadn't made it a rule before and was enforcing it now. Loman wouldn't make a minor mistake like that.

Loman grabbed him under his pits and threw him to the center of the mattress. The mattress, Swift failed to notice until now, was larger than any he'd seen before. It was obvious why; Loman was also the largest wolf many had ever seen before. Even with all that space, there was nowhere to crawl away. Loman's knees dipped into the bed, chasing after him. With strong arms, he grabbed Swift's sides and flipped him over, then pulled him so he was bent over on his knees and ass in the air. Swift felt his tail yanked up.

His brows shot up. Loman was going to mount him like this. No foreplay. No sweet talk. Just rutting him like a feral. Was he going to use lube? Was he going to be careful?

Swift's length throbbed.

He felt Loman's wet tongue first, licking, tasting his entrance. His tongue explored before it decided to venture deeper to find more. His tongue felt too long. It couldn't have been normal. It was rough and larger than anything Swift had except maybe his entire fist.

Loman kept wandering with his tongue until he gave out a sound as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life. Then, after he retreated, a few quiet seconds passed before Swift felt a cold finger knocking at his door. He started to shiver, realizing it was lube, as Loman spread it around his hole before inserting a finger. Quickly after the first, a second one came, and Swift gasped as Loman stretched him wider.

The fingers soon left, and Swift heard a low growl as the bed shifted with his movements. Then, Loman's tip touched his opening, and he pushed in.

Sharp pain. A pathetic cry forced its way out of Swift, and he covered his mouth in shame. Loman kept pushing and pushing, his cock too large, expanding him. He was going to break, Swift thought. Or permanently stretched.

But Loman, even in acting as this monster, still started slowly. Swift would have screamed something otherwise. He was thankful that Loman was taking his time, not tearing him apart, yet it prolonged the pain needed to get used to it. Still, Loman pushed forward steadily, easing his way in gently like a soft bunny, and soon enough his knot knocked against Swift's frame.

He didn't lock himself into Swift just yet. Pulling back, he got almost all of him out before thrusting in again. Slow. Tender. Caring. He was eager, Swift was sure, but he didn't rush things for Swift's pleasure, and that fact sent flutters to his chest.

Every one of Loman's thrusts pushed a short, soft sound out of Swift. With a firm grip on the base of his tail, Loman started fucking him faster. Swift whimpered, the pain dulling, getting replaced by something else entirely. This had to be magic. Explosions of uncontaminated pleasure erupted in his warm inners and groin.

Underneath, Swift swapped between flexing his toes and gripping them every few seconds. His cock danced with every fuck. Loman's large black balls knocked against his. He held onto the bedsheets for dear life as the bed shook with more vigor, the squeaks of the mattress hitting the walls.

His thrusts were hard. Loman knocked his knot against Swift's rim every time, the lube doing great work and making it easier on both of them. With some last, desperate humps, he gave one final slam of his hips, smuggled his knot in, and came inside Swift's warm caves. Swift moaned in tandem with the throbs of his cock, clenching both his paws and toes. Loman waited a moment, then pulled out.

After a few seconds of heavy breaths, Loman said, "If you behave for a week, I'll let you come."

Swift whined as he was pulled into Loman's large arms.

"Complain, and I'm gagging you until tomorrow. Did you think I forgot about your flaunting last night?"

Of course, he didn't. It was satisfying, then. Now Swift was regretting it. He liked regretting it.

Loman took him to the bathroom, where he started a warm shower and brought Swift in with him.

"Against the wall. Paws flat and tail high."

Swift followed the command, and Loman worked to clean his insides with a couple of fingers. It took a few attempts with Swift squatting down and pushing it out, but they got most of Loman's seed out of him. Loman did most of the work after that, lathering Swift with soap and washing him. Then he did himself, having Swift relax under the warm water. He dried Swift with a towel before turning to his own fur, then carried Swift back to their bedroom, calling it a night.

The next morning, Loman dressed, leaving Swift nude and taking him to the kitchen for breakfast. Swift wasn't allowed on the chairs. Instead, he sat on the ground next to Loman's chair, and his face went red when he realized how Loman wanted to do this.

His eyes focused on Loman's paw, holding out a small feral sausage for him.

"No paws," Loman said when he tried to take it.

The heat on his face spread further as he leaned forward and ate off of Loman's hand, brushing his lips against the tips of fingers as he bit off the sausage piece by piece. When he finished, he licked Loman's paw clean, and Loman went back to his own food, satisfied.

A good meal consisted of eggs, toast, and a couple of strawberries. Loman fed him plenty, and while Swift didn't feel like he was being completely ignored, whenever Loman fed him, his eyes never followed. He couldn't see from below the table, but his best guess was that Loman was on his phone. It made him want to speak up about the lack of attention, perhaps scratch Loman's leg in an attempt. He nearly whimpered in radiating embarrassment.

After breakfast, Loman didn't bother with a harness and simply clipped the leash to Swift's collar. He led him out of the suite, down the elevator, and into the main lobby. At this time in the morning, there were many creatures walking or lounging about.

Their eyes caught him. Instead of surprise or overly fascination, they looked like one would when seeing a bus drive by with a colorful logo on its side, or how one would look at a creature in a safety vest speeding by. Or, Swift realized with a hard gulp, how one would stare after noticing a creature walking their feral puppy.

He wasn't out of the ordinary here. It wasn't enough to make anyone gasp, cover their mouth, or take off a hat. One moment, they noticed him and glanced; the next, they went back to what they were doing.

It was clear as to why. Loman stopped at the small line in front of the front desk, and nearby were a couple of creatures and their IDPs. One was a bunny, who was leashed, playing a game on a smartphone. The other was a cat, nude like Swift, with his eyes closed and head resting on his owner's lap. This wasn't a common sight in Lower City, and obviously, that was because none had the money to legally buy a domesticated pet.

The line shortened with time, and Loman registered Swift as a pet for his suite. It was required for this suite building for both tamed ferals and Intelligent Domesticated Pets. Emergencies, inspections, and, of course, regular checkups on Swift, so any abuse towards him wouldn't go unnoticed.

After that, Loman led Swift back to the elevator and out of the lobby's eye, hitting the button to head downstairs.

The drive to Strapped wasn't far, but Upper City had never been known for fast roads. The building itself stuck out when they approached, having a big red sign with fancy letters for its name and a rope knot around the center P. Inside, Swift instantly noticed the variety of objects displayed on the many shelves far along the walls. They looked expensive, like everywhere Loman went. Loman had to tug his leash to remind him to keep up.

"Hello," Loman greeted the brown horse worker at the counter. "I'm looking to have my pet measured."

Swift shrank a little.

"Of course, Sir. Right this way."

The horse led them over to a small stool before some aisles, where he instructed Swift to stand on top of it and stay still. He measured Swift with a tape, jotting down every measurement with Loman's help, even those that didn't seem important.

After they were done measuring, Loman spoke, and turned Swift's blood cold. "I'm looking for two chastity cages, one heavy metal and the other silicone."

Swift squeaked. "What?"

"I'd like to see your collection of gags as well," Loman continued, ignoring Swift while not ignoring him. "Plugs too."

The aisles were narrow and packed, with shelves taller than Loman reaching far into the store. It was like a maze back here, unlike any store Swift had seen before. Loman pointed out an assortment of toys, including chastity cages, a ball gag, a bit, a muzzle, a quality harness, and so much more. It made Swift's head spin. They all got thrown into a cloth bag. Every item also contributed to his excitement—a bit too much. His cock started poking out of its sheath. Loman didn't miss that, of course, and the horse offered an ice pack before heading back to the front desk, leaving them alone.

There was a simple wooden bench nearby, like the ones in shoe stores. Swift, the one who was going to be wearing the products, wasn't the one who sat down. It helped the much taller canine be at Swift's level comfortably.

"Still," Loman said. "Hands on the back of your head."

Swift complied.

The chastity cage went on first. Chrome metal, heavy, so it would never be forgotten, and it was the sheath version. First, Loman used the ice pack, and Swift gave out a quick cry at the freezing touch before doing his best not to move. When Swift was completely flaccid, his balls went through the base ring, followed by fitting his small, cold red dick in the cage. The cage connected to the ring from the top, snug with Swift's sheath surrounding it. After Loman locked it with its key, it was merely peeking from inside Swift's sheath.

"Not too tight?" Loman asked. "The other one was black. I'll get a pink one too. A blue and white one to match your fur as well."

He flipped Swift around, and Swift didn't hear an order to lower his hands, so he kept them on the back of his head. A hand came to push Swift's upper back slightly, making Swift bend forward a little. He felt Loman pull the base of his tail up and out of the way, and at that moment, another creature-pet couple walked past their aisle, glancing at them. Swift's face went hot.

Something small, slick, and cold prodded his entrance, making him shiver, and he quickly realized Loman was lubing him up. He dragged a finger across his opening a few times before breaching, forcing a breath out of Swift. He pumped his finger in and out for some seconds before inserting a second to help stretch those muscles.

Swift's legs shook, but he kept himself standing in his position long enough for Loman to feel satisfied and stop. There was a pause of nothing, then Swift felt something larger press against him. Loman kept pushing it in deeper and deeper, and Swift tensed, clenching his toes. To help somewhat, Loman rubbed his thigh soothingly, continuing to push the object in, stretching Swift impossibly wide until—it popped in, a small part of the toy locking in place. A butt plug, he realized. A large butt plug.

Loman turned him back and guided him to stand upright, allowing him to put his hands down. The harness was next on the list. Light blue to contrast his white chest, making it look as if it extended from his outer blue fur. The rope was much higher in quality compared to the basic leather one the clinic gave. It didn't look painful, and Swift was even more relieved when it hugged against him, though tight enough to stay a reminder. The harness had two rings—on his chest and back—and Loman used the front one immediately, cuffing Swift's wrists with light-blue fluffy cuffs and keeping them held up with a clasp.

Then the finale for today: the light-blue ball gag. It had two straps behind his head instead of one, and the ball was larger than the clinic's. That wasn't a bad thing somehow, Swift thought, because while his jaw was opened wider now, the other one was slack enough to bring discomfort. This ball stayed settled in his jaw like a puzzle piece.

With that all done, Loman looked over his work, nodding to himself before clipping Swift's leash and pulling him along. Around his gag, Swift whined softly. His cock also whined inside its cage to be let out, pulsing, leaking a bead of pre at the tip. With every step, he felt the plug inside of him move. The collar, the cage, the plug—they were all forever-present with their weight and movement.

Loman grabbed a few more things on the way back to the front register, paid for all of them, and departed with Swift in tow. He tugged the leash occasionally with enough strength to be a firm command. All of the items came up to a number that would have made anyone in Lower City faint.

Swift remembered the plug again when he sat in the passenger seat, feeling it push under him. Loman buckled him in, looped his leash to the grip handle, and ruffled his head before closing the door. They were off to another destination that Swift had no clue about. It wasn't towards their—Loman's suite from what he could tell.

When they stopped, Swift's stomach dropped when he realized where they were. After Loman came around and got him out of the car, he gave a smile that said, "Yes, we are in one of the most public places in Upper City."

Swift's cock strained in its confines.

Lichard's Park.

Loman took him around the large public park, and he walked fairly slowly, stopping multiple times to "see the scenery." Swift knew better. Many others glanced at them along the way, including families with their children, and the elderly with nothing better to do. Every time, Swift grew hot from the humiliation. His plug gave a reminder with every step, and his collar felt tighter around his dry throat suddenly.

They (Loman) paused their walk about halfway around, and Loman sat on a nearby bench near a small pond. Pulling Swift close, he had him sit by his knees, on his knees, and he made Swift rest his head against his leg with a large paw. A couple of seconds passed before Swift found his eyes closing. Without sight, the mild throbs in his cage and weight in his hole were more apparent. He heard a kind woman jogging, saying hello to Loman before passing and continuing forward like nothing was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Eventually, Loman decided to stand up, and he led Swift along the rest of the Public Park.

Loman's next destination was a fancy restaurant, of course. It looked like one you could tell was too expensive for you on TV.

"Seat for one, please," Loman said to the waiter at the front.

The restaurant was so fancy that the waiter brought Swift a cushion to sit on at Loman's feet. They weren't at a booth beside the walls. They sat at one of the small tables in the middle meant for a couple, where everyone could see them. Swift had to keep close so he wasn't in the way of crossing animals. On his knees, tail raised, sitting on his hocks, knees spread slightly so his caged cock was out in the open.

"Behave," was all Loman said before ungagging him.

Swift moved his jaw around to ease it, then waited patiently as Loman looked at the menu. He waited for Loman to ask what he wanted, but Loman never did. Instead, he ordered for both of them, and Swift was close to speaking out but stopped himself. He just got the gag removed. This was a test, he realized.

He felt eyes tattooed all over him. Dripping between his legs in slow intervals, there was a wet circle on the cushion. He trembled a little, praying that no one except for maybe Loman noticed. When they left, one of the workers would, though.

Loman didn't speak to him while they waited for his order. He didn't speak when plates hit the table either, wordlessly feeding Swift delicious meats and vegetables with his fork. The only other proof that Loman remembered Swift's existence was his touches. Casual scratches under the chin or behind the ears, playing with the tuft of fur on his head, rubbing the back of his neck—Swift cooed at all of them. Sometime after, Loman abruptly pulled Swift closer by his collar so Swift's head was settled between his legs. He casually opened the front of his pants, bringing out his flaccid red cock.

"Warm me," he said.

Swift's face couldn't get hotter. The only thing he could be thankful for was that Loman's large legs were blocking his face from the public eye. He thought about any retaliation he could try, but it would probably just end up with him being openly punished. After Loman brushed his lips with a thumb, Swift relented, opening his mouth and allowing Loman to pull him around his cock.

Loman was large. Plain and simple. He was a large wolf, so obviously, that included every feature. Although it was flaccid and out of its sheath, it still petrified Swift just looking at it. As it settled in his open jaw, Swift wrapped his lips around it and gave a single suck out of instinct.

"Don't suck," Loman said. "Keep still."

Fighting back a whine, Swift complied. He kept all his focus on not sucking and instead breathing through his nose. He forgot where they were at some point. Then, the waiter came by to ask if everything was to Loman's satisfaction, and he went very still. Loman noticed, of course, and smiled down at him. That made his trapped cock jump. From under the table, he couldn't see how far Loman was into his meal, so he had no idea how long they still had here. Loman began petting his head minutes later, and Swift closed his eyes, the sounds of restaurant chatter buzzing around, ignoring his vile acts beneath them.

Thankfully, after the restaurant (Loman fastened his gag again), they left the public eye behind and returned home. Loman took off Swift's harness and gag, leaving everything else. After that, instead of using the leash, Loman took Swift's hand and pulled him into the living room. He sat with Swift on his lap and started a TV show.

Swift knew that Loman knew he didn't particularly care about this show, because why else would he have picked it and hold him close to his chest? He could still hear it, but nothing about it grabbed his attention. Loman knew what he liked to watch, and a reality drama wasn't one of them.

He quickly found out why Loman chose this when he felt Loman grab the base of his plug and tug on it, teasing its escape. Loman tugged and pulled, not putting effort into letting it pop out. He twisted it inside of him a few times, making him shudder, before playing with his rim again. The show went on, and Swift was making a mess of himself, curling into Loman. Loman didn't seem to mind. The moment it went to commercial, Loman gave the strength to pull the plug out, spreading Swift's entrance momentarily and bring a short sound out of him. There wasn't a large gap of time before Loman pushed it back, causing Swift to arch his back and give a small, soft cry, drowned by the sounds coming from the commercial.

In and out. In. Out. Spikes of pleasure. The plug passed his rim again and again as Loman played with his fidget toy. His captured cock reacted every time, especially when the toy brushed against his prostate. Even when the commercials ended, he idly used Swift's warm cave, only stopping to grab and play with his balls. His free hand came up to Swift's face, two fingers out, and Swift didn't fight as he pushed them in his mouth. He sucked on Loman's fingers with eagerness that surprised him, finding it brought out a sense of calm. Occasionally, he let out soft cooes, buzzing around his fingers.

Loman used him the entire episode, stopping once the credits started rolling. He left the plug to settle deep in Swift's ass and retracted his fingers. Turning the television off, he carried Swift to the bedroom.

The bed bounced when Loman dropped Swift on it, and he didn't waste time flipping Swift on his front so he had easy access to his rear. He pulled the plug out and didn't return it, instead squirting more lube and spreading it in and around Swift's entrance.

Swift released shaky breaths at the cold touch, his warm walls being invaded, exploring every inch in his cave until he was satisfied. He didn't turn to see, but heard Loman unclothe, tossing his wear away before pressing his tip to his entrance.

Loman slipped in easily. All that playing during the show prepared him well. Even still, Loman was plenty of times larger than the plug, and when he reached halfway, Swift felt his entrance beginning to stretch again. He gripped the sheets, sucking in a breath. His cock trapped in its cage, tried its best to burst out and escape. It pushed against its jail, bouncing even though Loman hadn't started thrusting in and out just yet. He wanted release so bad.

"Please," he said.

Loman raised his tail without delay and spanked him once, firm.

"Please let me come!"

Another spank. Swift whined into the sheets, knuckles turning white, and Loman kept traveling deeper.

"Loman!"

Spank. Loman drove the rest of his length in before his knot. Curling above Swiff like a jagged cliff, he shoved him deeper into the bedsheets, pinning him down by his shoulder blades. Then he covered Swift's mouth with a large paw to restrict words and stifle sounds as he pulled his hips back. With a growl, he slammed back into Swift, whose following yell was muffled upon feeling the knot hit his rim.

The bed began to cry out as Loman quickened, fucking Swift relentlessly with hot, heavy breaths. He kept Swift trapped beneath him. Trapped with his paw. Trapped with his body against his back. Trapped with his massive cock inside of him.

Soon enough, Loman's knot broke into Swift's home as well, but Loman didn't fill Swift with his seed just yet. He withdrew, his knot popping through Swift's barriers again before breaking in without a moment to spare. His knot kept hitting Swift's rim like someone bumping their shoulder against another.

And Swift felt himself open up every time, along with Loman's warm tip reaching his belly. He kicked his legs out under them, splaying his beans before gripping, writhing under the beast's tight hold for an escape that would never present itself. Loman kept abusing his pleasure button, sending ripples through his system.

It wasn't long until Loman shoved himself as far in as he could, locking himself inside of Swift and coming with a low growl. His hot spend filled Swift, coating his insides. While Swift gasped and shook under him, he yanked his tail up and delivered one solid smack on his ass cheek.

Swift cried out, hiding his flaring face in the mattress and grasping its sheets. The spanks kept coming in a fast rhythm, Loman unrelenting, and every hit brought Swift closer to the edge in the cage.

However, just as Swift started to feel the rise of his orgasm, Loman stopped. Swift's moans turned into a loud whine, and he wanted to speak without permission just so Loman would pick up where he left off. But before he could decide, Loman forced the ball gag in his jaw and fastened it. Then he cuffed his wrists behind his back.

Swift whined around the gag, sobbing, but his cries went ignored as Loman pulled him to his chest. He remembered Loman's promise of release if he behaved for a week. Hopefully, he didn't ruin that with his pleas just then. Carrying Swift on his knot, he lay on the bed, turning them over so he was spooning Swift from behind.

Lying here, with his back against Loman's soft chest while still knotted, Swift never found anything more comfortable in his life. He was enveloped all over. He trembled a lot, at first, but Loman's presence (inside and out) quickly calmed him down. His cock's throbs slowed, and Loman rested his chin on top of his head between his ears. Letting out a soft sound around the gag, Swift closed his eyes.

One year like this? Swift wished he had found Loman sooner. It seemed he picked the right creature to pickpocket.