Only Just Beginning
I got the short end of the stick, being born a quadruped. Granted, I lucked out in the genetic lottery by at least not being born feral. Most four-leggers can't do much aside from hunt, sleep, mate, and then sleep again, and I was thankful to have been born among the Kind. To be able to speak, make friends, and interact with my world.
Or I had been thankful, until that night.
One moment I'm sitting next to friends watching the night sky, the next… Well. I don't remember what happened next.
We had known hunters were in the area. Not long ago we had found spikes driven into the ground, the scenes splattered with copious amounts of dried… stuff. We had a laugh about it at the time, hiding our anxiety as young males often do: by making off-color jokes about what had happened. 
We all knew nothing about what had happened there that was worth joking about. It was a ceremonial site for the canines in the area. Anthros, mostly. No one a cat like me would get mixed up with on a bet. Their hunting dogs—all ferals—were mostly male. They'd come into our territory from time to time, capture unlucky females of other species and tie them to these poles. No one ever saw them again, and no one really knew what happened to them, but… We suspected. But they were always ferals and, though we feel a certain kinship to our mute cousins, they're certainly not Kind. And the anthros are dangerous perverse beasts anyway, it's not like we can change that.
And now here I was, a similar spike right in front of me. I stared at it, waiting for comprehension, but it wasn't there to be found; hiding behind the throbbing pain in my skull. Had I been hit? Drugged?
Sound pulled me out of my stupor. A wet, sick sound: a sound like raw meat being tenderized. I looked up, trying to focus my eyes in the direction of the sound, expecting to see… Well, I don't know what I expected to see. A butcher's table? A hunter with his kill? A sacrificial altar?
What I did not expect to see was a lioness, tied to a similar stake as the one in front of me, with feral canines mounting her from both ends. It was so perverse my mind took a few long moments to process it. She was quadruped. Was she feral? With what they were doing to her… Did it matter? Oh Spirits, she seemed to be unconscious, or at least unresponsive. How long had they been doing this to her? The sounds. Knowing they came from a living creature turned my stomach. How long had this been going on? I realized one of the dogs was anthro a moment later. A handler, sitting to the side and just watching as the two canines fucked a living creature to the edge of death's door.
I started, panic flooding through me long before any conscious thoughts were able to congeal. I pulled back, and chains rattled. I snapped at them by instinct, but my jaws didn't open. I tried to claw at my face, but my paws barely moved. Panic bit harder, and I flailed, trying to free myself of whatever held me by any means necessary. I only managed to fall on my side. Realization dawned at last. I was chained to the spike, iron bars holding my legs in place. Worse, I had been muzzled. I couldn't speak. The one gift that separated me from the Cousins, stripped away.
A large anthro wolf suddenly towered over me. A brute with no regard for decency, naked with fangs bare in a sneer.
"Look here, boys. Bet you can't wait to fuck this one, eh? Now, what do we have for you here…"
Only then did I realize he held the leash of two massive feral hounds. Hunting dogs, a full shoulder taller than me, even if I weren't splayed on the ground. I gasped, trying to scream through the muzzle, somehow making it back to my feet. It didn't help, though, and the big dogs growled at me low in their throats, their eyes never leaving me. 
Meanwhile, the anthro wolf inspected me from side to side and front to back, while I cowered before the massive canines. All the bravado I'd had yesterday; where was it now? A memory of my own voice telling my best friend what I'd do to a canine hunter if I found one floated through my head. Now here I was, and I felt paralyzed. These beasts could kill me. There was no doubt in my head that there would be no fight, despite my pride, even if I were unchained. 
"Gah! Fuck…." The anthro squatted before me, recapturing my attention as he looked me over. The sounds of the lioness being fucked like a piece of meat continued, though my view of her was occluded by the big naked anthro. 
"The hunters must have mistaken you for one of your lady friends," he grunted. "Ah well, don't worry you stupid beast. A hole is a hole. My boys will figure out what to do." His sneer made my fur crawl and my eyes widened. They were going to use me just like that lioness! Like an animal—no—like something less than an animal. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, you dumb fuckin' feral," the wolf chuckled, observing my reaction. "Fucking cats. Get ready, whore."
I tried to open my mouth so hard that I could feel the muzzle press into the skin of my nose, cutting it. I could barely manage enough space to stick my tongue out, but that was enough to hiss "Please! No! I'm not feral! I'm Kind! Kind! Please, let me go!"
The wolf nearly fell back on his butt, hearing me speak. His eyes went wide for a moment, and I saw him gaze off towards the other handler for a moment. 
"Please," I tried again, and he turned his attention back to me. "I'm not like them," I gasped. I realized I had tears in my eyes when one dripped through the fur of my cheek.
"Well, well, well…" The anthro made a face I couldn't interpret, running his tongue along sharp teeth. "What the hell are you? Some kind of half-breed freak?" He snorted as I tried to slur out a response. "Whatever you are, I guess you can't answer for shit like that."
I was too shocked to try to say anything. Half-breed? Did he think the Kind mated with animals? Didn't he know what I was at all? As I tried to understand what the anthro had said, he grabbed the side of the muzzle, holding the metal tight, angled downwards so I'd have less chance to bite him, and began to work the latch behind my head. I could have cried with relief as I felt the leather slacken its tautness.
"Thank you! Thank you!" I gasped when I was free. "I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just let me go. The others won't even know, I swear."
"Others, huh?" The wolf's ears cocked in a way I very much didn't like. But who could say what wolf body language meant, much less on an anthro?
"If you'll just set me free…" I prompted, lifting a paw. The wolf turned his gaze on me, and I cowered back from the dark gleam in his eyes.
"Well, since you can speak, I'm gonna assume you can understand me. So pay attention." My ears swung back, crouching down as he moved closer, close enough that I could feel his breath against my face.
"You are ours now. You're not going home. You will never see these 'others' again. You have no family. You have no friends. You have us." His hand shot out faster than I could see, his odd paws with their long fingers grasping around my muzzle like snakes, holding my jaw closed in a vice grip as strong as the muzzle had been. 
"See, when we pick up your little friends, it's just because our hunting dogs get a little antsy when they're pent up. What better way to hurt the Prides than turning your hunting parties into breeding whores? And if you think finding out you can speak is gonna change that, well…"
I stared in shock. The Prides? We had nothing to do with the feral lions of the area! We were different altogether! Did these wolves truly hold so much hate for all felines they saw no difference between ferals and the Kind?
I looked into his eyes and saw only the worst answer I could imagine.
He leaned forward, just a centimeter, and licked my nose, a horrifying, intimate gesture as he dropped the leashes from his other paw. "My new friend, you are going to be an attraction," he hissed, his grip tightening as I tried with all my might to wriggle away.
"Fucking animal," he snarled and swung at me. Stars danced in my vision, and I briefly lost consciousness. I could hear him talking, but it was slurred. Distant. 
"….will fit you much better, I think." Was the first thing I heard, a moment before I felt him wrapping the muzzle back around my head. I tried to pull back, but my head spun. His fingers forced my jaw open, shoving something hard inside. This wasn't the same muzzle, I realized, trying to close my mouth. Trying to bite him with everything I had. 
He pulled the strap tight behind my skull. Too tight, making me whine. What had they done? I tongued at the contraption, realizing a metal ring had been shoved back into my muzzle, holding it wide open. I couldn't open or close it.
"No! No!!" I tried to scream, but the words emerged impotent, a slurry of useless sounds. He just slapped my muzzle, almost a playful gesture, rising to his feet.
"Go get him, boys."
The dogs knew exactly what to do. It was horrifying how much they knew exactly what to do. They were not just trained killers, these ferals were trained rapists. 
I howled my rage through the muzzle as best I could, shrinking back onto my rump, my tail between my legs. One dog went behind me, and I felt his teeth sink into my nape. Pain flashed, quelled almost immediately by the compression of the nerve endings there. I had to fight not to go slack. He pushed against me, raising me in the air a little, but I managed to push back to the ground.
I hadn't counted on that action making me so vulnerable to the hound in front of me though. My eyes grew wide as he lunged at me next. I had nowhere to go; he was on me before I could even register his movements. His arms clamped down around my neck, and he shoved his crotch into my face. The stink of unwashed hound filled my nose. His sheath pushed against my cheek. I tried to dodge, but I moved right into him as he corrected his aim. Now I realized why the muzzles were shaped this way…
The scent made me wretch, but not nearly as much as feeling the dog's enormous canine cock growing within my mouth. Quickly swelling from his sheath as he began thrusting against my face with bruising intensity. 
The teeth on my nape screwed down tighter and the dog began shaking his head, threatening to tear me off my feet. Threatening to tear off my flesh as well!
"Now, now," came the voice of the handler. "Don't want our little bitch checked out too early, do you, Darius?" A moment later I felt his hands grabbing my tail, right at the base. Squeezing around it in a manner of unseemly intimacy for any cat. I almost cried, feeling his fingers tighten under my tail. But a moment later a shot of pain sheared through me as he yanked my entire hind-end into the air. 
The hound was on my back the next instant, jabbing around my rump like the feral beast he was. The bone in his cock made each miss punch through my fur with bruising intensity. He hit my hips, my balls, my taint, and then… 
I screamed around the huge hound cock growing in my muzzle. This was just what that feral had been waiting for, apparently, and he thrust hard into my thrust, choking me silent. My eyes boggled, suddenly deprived of air as the dog's cock sank into my throat. I gagged, trying desperately to yank away and failing. When the hound eventually pulled back a little, I gasped for air, trying not to throw up, only to have him thrust right back into my throat.
In a way it was a mercy. The fuzziness from lack of oxygen may have dulled the pain of the hound raping me from behind. His thrusts were rough and savage. I had never done anything like this. I was completely unprepared for the pain of his cock forcing my virgin ass apart. It felt someone ramming a tree branch into me over and over, at a speed I wouldn't have imagined possible. 
The handler was shouting something, I realized. I couldn't register it over the overload of sensation. A moment later, though, I saw another pair of anthro feet off to the side in the corner of my vision. When it wasn't being obscured by the canine actively forcing himself down my throat.
"Bullshit, Dag," I finally heard. "Everyone knows these four-legged fucks are beasts. Five silver says you can't prove it."
There was some jostling and some curse words spoken in Old Wolven, then suddenly my airway was clear again. I gasped, trying to spit out the mixture of recum and bile staining my tongue. With the muzzle on, all I could really do was drool onto the ground.
The handler—Dag, apparently—grabbed the buckle of the muzzle and unfastened it, grabbing my nape and pulling my head up to stare into the faces of a whole gathering of anthro wolves. The hound who had been fucking my face was none too happy to be interrupted, and straining against the hold of another handler. Apparently, Dag had called their whole hunting pack. I looked into their faces, still gasping, having difficulty comprehending. All of them had been watching these beasts fuck me. Were still watching. I didn't like what I saw on their faces.
"Please," I said, the words coming out hoarse and quieter than I expected. "Please help me! I'm not with any Pride! I am Kind, not feral!"
"Well shit," another handler exclaimed, passing a handful of coins to Dag. 
"What do you think, Chief?" Dag turned towards one of the other wolves. I couldn't tell which one, until a dark-furred wolf, taller than the rest, stepped forward.
"Please," I gasped again, wincing as the hound behind me continued to degrade me for all to see. 
The Chief stepped forward. The other wolves grew very still; the only movement was my own as I lowered my head, gritting my teeth. The hound's thrusts were getting harder. More painful.
I felt the Chief's hand replace Dag's, and when I looked back up he eclipsed my vision, naked and brooding. 
"Who are the Kind, you speak of?" He said, his voice low and rumbling. Commanding.
Tears rolled down my muzzle as I tried to hold myself steady. "Will you let me go?"
"Answer," he growled back. The tone of his voice didn't change with the demand. I whimpered. All of his body language spoke of total dominance, even across the species barrier. But what other hope did I have?
"We aren't with any pride. The Prides are feral! We're… we speak, we build, we do not live with the Prides or other ferals. We do not fight your kind. We're peaceful! Please! Please let me go!"
He eyed me for what felt like forever. Neither his gaze nor his arms shook, even as he held me tight against the thrusts of the rutting canine behind me.
"No." He answered at last. 
Before I could fully grasp the horror of that one word, the wolf leaned forward, his breath tickling the insides of my ears.
"Survive, and we will talk," he growled, his voice so quiet I was almost unsure he'd said it. But he had. It was spoken with the same commanding certainty. 
As he stood, I reeled, eyes vacant. What did that mean? Hope and despair warred in my mind. 
"A cat is a cat," the chief said aloud and walked away, the wolves parting for him as he did.
Despair abruptly won the battle.
"You heard him, Pack" The handler who had paid Dag grinned.
The hound behind me whined, and the canines all laughed. I realized something was pushing under my tail; something huge and round. The words I had intended to speak were lost in a cry of pain as my tail hole stretched even wider, somehow.
"He's really using his knot," one of the wolves observed.
It's the knot, a voice spoke in my head, far too matter-of-factly. We knew canine anatomy was different. I had occasionally heard friends joke about canine knots, but truly none of us knew if they were real. 
They were.
"I bet you've never felt that before, have you," Dag laughed at me, grabbing the muzzle from the ground. "Or maybe you have, you slut. You're too good a dog-fucker for this to be your first time, I say." 
He pulled my mouth open wide, reattaching the muzzle. I had no energy left to fight it. I heard a slapping sound from above and he growled a command in another language. I realized he was commanding the hound.
"They know not to knot, Dag," the other handler said disapprovingly, but Dag just shrugged. 
"They're too excited, and I don't wanna wait." This was apparently hilarious to the gathered wolves, as they all laughed, all but literally howling in approval.
The other handler let the other dog go, and he sprang back onto my face. He hadn't even gotten soft the whole time. This time I was a little more prepared, but nothing could truly prepare me for the flood of scent and the rasping pain of the dogcock shoved down my throat.
The words of the chieftain stuck in my head, as the hound grasped me by the shoulders, mating my face harder than before.
Survive.
It didn't take long for the hound to finish after that. 
There was no ceremony. No preamble. One moment he was thrusting deep into my throat, the next he held still, and I felt gushes of hot seed splashing over the back of my tongue and into my throat.
A moment later, the dog behind me whined, and his thrusts stilled to a steady hump, hump, hump of his hips. I felt something warm and wet running down my legs. 
They've bred me, I thought to myself, the thought making tears spring again to my eyes. I was a male, of course. The thought was ridiculous, yet it stuck. It was done. I was there's.
The dogs were of no mind to cuddle afterward. As soon as they'd emptied themselves to their satisfaction, they dismounted me and ran back to their handlers. I gagged, feeling the slimy seed drip over my teeth to drool in a long string to the ground. But the dog behind was worse. As he pulled back, a gush of fluid spilled down my balls and my legs. I lowered my hips, by instinct, feeling like I was shitting my guts out before all these watching canines, unable to stop the flood of liquid spilling out of me.
Then, in a flurry of woofs, growls, and canine stink, two more hounds were on me. I didn't fight this time. There was no point. 
When the two ferals had finished with me, I looked up, eyes bleary from tears and exhaustion. The anthro beast masters had gathered, cocks now hanging from their sheaths. Many stroked themselves openly, eyeing their prize. Me.
The handler who had paid Dag was the first to step forward, his cock swinging as he walked. 
I winced and backed up, the tautness of the chains reminding me I had nowhere to go. The revulsion I felt at the idea of a two-legger mounting me… Was it even worse than the ferals? 
The idea was nothing compared to the reality. As the anthro stood above me, he wasted no time grabbing my nape and pulling me higher. I expected him to mount my face as the feral's had done. When he turned around, I had no idea what to expect for a moment. I was shocked to my core when he lifted his tail and pulled my head under it. I writhed, at last finding some will to escape, but had nowhere to go. He growled above me, pushing me inward, my nose flooded with the musky, earthy scent of his under-tail. 
He pushed my nose over his ass, grinding me across his tailhole, smearing my fur with his sweat, then let me drop to the ground. The scent stuck, splashed across my nose and ground deep into my fur. I wouldn't get it out for days, I knew. He'd marked me, in the most visceral way.
The wolves were howling their approval again, and the handler turned to them, basking in their praise. "Little bitch won't ever forget her first fuck from a true Wolf, will she?" he bragged, and the wolves yipped their agreement. 
It was a small consolation, but I did forget my first fuck with an anthro. After the first dismounted me, there was no end to them. They did as they pleased, taking my ass or mouth. Some spoke to me, calling me "slut" or "bitch". Others said nothing, just using me until they left me dripping and exhausted. Every so often new ferals would be released on me. Or at least, I assumed they were new. I had no idea anymore. The thought of the lioness I had first seen when I arrived came to mind: glassy and unresponsive. 
I understood now.
I kept seeing money exchanging hands, realizing I was being whored out, wolves paying for the privilege of taking me before others. The beast masters would stand and watch their fellows use me, shouting obscenities, or encouraging their mates to deeper perversions. 
As the night progressed, the depth of their deviance made itself known. Some began gathering the liquids that escaped me into bowls. They made a game of pouring it into my muzzle while I was fucked me from behind. Forcing me to gargle around it for breath. Others would make a show of slathering their seed over the feral's dicks before turning them loose on me. 
More than once, an anthro would beckon his hound over while fucking me, commanding the dog to turn and then pulling its ass to my muzzle, forcing me to lick the dog's ass while its master used mine. Some even shoved their cum-wet fingers into the feral's ass, pulling them out and pushing them into my muzzle, wiping the top of my mouth with dirt and grime where I could never entirely remove it. Sometimes running it through my fur. The taste and scent lingered, only getting stronger as more and more wolves copied their compatriot's ideas.
Someone showed up with the hound's bathing equipment, and the wolves made a show of rubbing their scrubbing brushes through the bowls of their own cum they had gathered, bathing me in it. My coat, once a source of pride to me, clung in matted, sticky clumps, reeking of canine seed. Somehow this only seemed to encourage the crowd, who seemed to enjoy working the cum deeper into my fur as they fucked me, creating more marking to humiliate me with each howled orgasm.
When the line of canines finally died down, I didn't even notice. I lay on the ground, exhausted beyond words, lying in the puddle of canine cum pooling around me. Time had lost all meaning, and I simply waited for the next yank of my tail, or rough pull on my nape to force me to my feet. 
It wasn't until I heard Dag's voice that I opened an eye, trying to focus on him through half-lidded eyes. The line had dispersed, I noticed. The forest seemed quiet, the jeers and chatter that had filled my ears for hours now gone. Wolves and hounds sat in scattered bunches. Some even appeared to be asleep, others watching Dag approach.
He squatted down above me and undid my muzzle, a stream of cum following it to connect in rivulets to the pool beneath. My mouth worked, sparks of pain flowing through my jaw. My teeth hurt from grinding against the metal, a dull, hollow pain through my head.
"Please… No more…" I managed to whisper.
"That's not the deal here, kitten," Dag laughed. "I think it's high time you had a real wolf. An alpha in the making!" He knelt down, legs wide to avoid the majority of the cum in the dirt, stroking his bulging cock with ease. "Now, I reckon you don't have the strength to get a good bite in, but if I feel teeth, that ring is going back in your muzzle and never coming out. Got it?"
I nodded, not wanting to even attempt to speak, but he slipped his paws through my headfur, pulling me up to look at him. "Yes, master," he corrected. 
"Yes, master," I managed. 
"Good slut," he grinned. Dag pushed his cock into my muzzle with obvious relish. He went much slower than the others had, using his paws to control my muzzle. Holding it around his cock and making me work to make sure my teeth didn't nick him. Those thrusts sped up slowly, growing in speed with the length of his cock. I could taste his sheath against the tip of my tongue. A few wolves had made me clean their sheaths this evening, but this was different, with it pushing back and forth on my tongue with each thrust, smearing my tongue and teeth with bits of musk.
"Look up at me, kitten. I want to see that sweet face of yours," Dag growled, his words almost like those of a lover. I looked upwards, only to be met with a face-full of spittle, dripping over my eyes like the tears I could no longer manage.
"Dirty. Fucking. Feline. Whore." he snarled. I kept my eyes on him, not wanting to anger him further. He grabbed my head with one paw and started pushing on me harder. Pulling me to his belly, grinding my nose into his sweaty groinfur as few wolves had done that evening. I was used to deepthroating by now, but the scent… 
I realized I could feel him growing in my muzzle. I suddenly couldn't close it as much. 
"Oh yeah, that's it. Keep looking at me, bitch. Little fucking feline slut. I'm gonna knot that little dirty mouthcunt of yours. It's mine, you got it? Mine!"
My eyes widened and a shiver ran through my sticky fur. This was new, but I had no energy to resist. I whimpered, feeling his knot growing larger and larger. With him squeezing my muzzle closed, I could no longer keep my teeth away, but he pushed in deeper, the tip of his cock in my throat, the bulge of his knot growing between the teeth, suppressing my tongue.
Fear ran through me as it continued to grow and grow, the canine gasping and snarling now as he mated my mouth. "That's it… that's it… rrrruf! Look at me, bitch. I'm going to mark you as mine with this big knot!"
I looked at him and could see that the fear in my eyes only made him hornier. I was gagging now. He adjusted, and I realized in sudden horror that I wouldn't be able to pull away even if I wanted to. As he moved, his knot simply pushed against the inside of my muzzle, which was as wide open as it could go now. He removed his grip over my muzzle, no longer needing it, and instead grabbed my ears, squeezing them tight. 
I struggled, finding energy in my terror as his knot continued to grow, stretching my muzzle farther and farther. My jaws screamed in pain as they were stretched beyond any natural limit, yet still he thrust and grunted his pleasure down into my panicking face. I clawed at the ground, trying to pull back, but there was no hope of him pulling out now. He was stuck in my muzzle and there was nothing at all I could do. I looked up at the wolf, trying to beg with my eyes, but he just smiled back in sadistic pleasure.
His hands tightened on my ears and he thrust, just the slightest amount. I tried to scream around his knot but didn't manage to make a sound. My jaws screamed. 
"You know, sometimes the boys get a little carried away with their playtoys," he growled at me. "I've seen a houndknot rip a sweet little kitty like you right open. From either end. Should we try it together, fucktoy?" he pushed again, and I managed a shrill sound of horror and pain. "You don't need those jaws any more, after all, do you?" Another push. "I'm gonna cum and when I do….."
The wolf threw his head back, and I felt his cock starting to jump in my throat. His fingers clenched down hard on my sensitive ears and I felt him begin to push harder. Everything in me screamed, knowing he would break me any moment.
"That's enough, Dag," a voice came from behind. A paw clamped onto the cumming wolf's shoulder, and the Chief appeared from behind. "It's not yours to ruin."
"F-fuck!" Dag snarled incoherently. He was deep in orgasm already and barely managed to look up at the chief, his eyes wide in surprise and anger.
"Yes, Alpha," the chief growled, his tone measured, his eyes directly on Dag's. 
"Y-yes, Alpha," Dag muttered, his tone and gaze dark. The tension on my jaw relaxed. Not all the way, but enough. The chief removed his paw and stood to the side, watching without expression as Dag hunched over me, trying to enjoy what remained of his orgasm. I could have sworn I saw a hint of satisfaction curl the chief's lips when he did not succeed. 
The wolf didn't dare say anything, apparently, though. The threat passed, I concentrated on breathing as his seed flooded my throat. I had gotten a lot of practice, this evening, but with my muzzle knotted like this, it was even harder.
Dag gripped my ears harder, making me whine, but he didn't try thrusting too hard again. Despite the pain, my heart was hammering with relief. 
Everything blurred for a long time. Or at least it felt like a long time. I focused on my breathing. On swallowing the constant spurts of liquid seed the wolf was pumping into my throat, and nothing else. My jaw ached from holding it open, but that was no worse than all the other aches I felt across my body. 
"Dismount." The chief's words, soft though they were, snapped me out of my fugue. Dag held my jaw and pulled back, his knot just grazing my teeth. I gagged, amazed at the amount of cum that spewed from my muzzle. I coughed, trying to breathe regularly. Dag kept his eyes low, not looking to the alpha, simply turning and walking away. I spat at his back, the small defiance hidden by my spluttering. 
I saw some of the other wolves sit up as the chief stepped around behind me. He grabbed my tail, lifting it into the air, but he didn't yank it like most of the others had. Merely held it aloft, touching the tip of his cock to my swollen and torn pucker.
He put two paws on my shoulders, pushing me down to the ground, and pushed himself into me. I whimpered but didn't cry out. There had been just enough time for some of the previous numbness to wear off, but I was so stretched and lubed, in truth I barely felt the wolf at first, large though he was.
"You survived", the big male growled in my ear. "Do you wish to live?"
"Yes", I groaned.
"Then you must cry out." The wolf thrust, hard. Then again, deeper. His cock was growing, and I did cry out. It wasn't an act. I could feel him stabbing me deep within. Stretching and rubbing bruised, worn parts of me, but also going deeper, pushing against new places I hadn't felt in the whole of the evening. I realized he was pushing deeper than many of the other wolves had, thrusting until his sheath met my pucker.
"Ahh! Ahhhhh!" I mewled, my throat ragged.
"That is good," he whispered again. "If you wish to live, you will submit to me. I am Alpha here. You have value as a curiosity to me, but to my wolves you are prey. They must see you submit. Do you understand me?"
My head was fuzzy, but I understood enough.
"You're going to make me yours," I said at last, nearly soundlessly. I knew, whatever that meant, it was not the same as what all the other wolves had taken from me. Whatever this wolf wanted ran deeper.
"You are going to make yourself mine," the wolf corrected. His thrusts started becoming harder, forcing more sound from me. I realized he was manipulating the strength of his mating to cover how he spoke to me, making him cry out enough to satisfy the rest of the pack.
"Beg for my knot," the wolf said, louder, his tone demanding but still calm. He slid his paws up my cum-coated fur to grasp my hips, rutting me like feral bitch. I knew he was giving me an opportunity his pack knew nothing of: submit, or die. "Announce yourself this alpha's bitch, feline. My wolves are hungry to hear you whimper your submission. As am I!"
The moments between each of his thrusts spread in my mind. Was survival among these barbarians really better than death? If not, why had I listened to the chief earlier? Why had his words stuck with me: "survive." His paws—hands—gripped me hard, and I knew my time to think was up. Too much delay would appear as weakness.
"I submit!" I cried out, as loud as I could, my voice raspy beyond my own recognition. I will survive, I added within my head. "I am this alpha's bitch! I belong to him!" The chief gripped me again and I yelped, then realized I had forgotten a part of instruction. I gasped, bracing myself. "Please knot me, Alpha! Please…."
It was enough, because the chieftain's grip on my fur relaxed, if only slightly. I doubt the wolves would have seen a thing. His thrusts did not change over me, but I felt him relax in the slightest ways against my body.
"Let us see if your words are true," the wolf said, and reached under me, grabbing around my fuzzy sheath. I shuddered against him. Not a single one of the animals that had fucked me this evening had touched me in the slightest. He gripped my sheath and pulled a little. It didn't take much to make my maleness swing free: the natural effects of adrenaline and the large canine cock currently pushing deep within my bowels, not arousal. Still, he began pumping it, and I was shocked to feel my body respond in his paw. 
The wolves were sitting up straighter now, an added sense of seriousness to them, but I ignored the crowd, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the sensation of his paw on me. Pump, pump, pump, in time with his thrusts. Then he put an arm under my forelegs, wrapping around my chest, heaving me into the air onto my back paws. I gasped, but he held me firmly, like a cub. His rhythm didn't break in the slightest, but he used his muscles now to guide me up and down his shaft.
"Will you show my pack your loyalty then, bitch?" He said loudly. "Cum for your alpha's knot before all the wolves. Show yourself inferior, submissive little feline whore. They see now how you stand hard and ready, feeling my knot against your sloppy used cunt. Do you feel it, Kitten?"
"Yes!" I gasped, having no need of lying. I could feel it. I had felt many knots that night, but few of the wolves had dared do more than bump them under my tail. Now I could feel it inside me. Small, but noticeable, and growing. From my experience with Dag, I knew what to expect soon enough. Oh yes, I could feel it.
My paws grasped at air. Clenching and unclenching. I couldn't control them; it was some kind of reflex, brought on by the combination of the wolf's stroking of my cock and the large knot teasing inside of me.
"Is it in?" I whispered. I was afraid the wolf would strike me, but I heard a huff of air that might have been a laugh. 
"Would you like it to be, then, Kitten?"
"Yes," I groaned. I wasn't sure how I was so sure. Was it the promise of release? The hope of this all being over? …Lust? I couldn't say. I didn't care, but I knew I wanted it.
"It does not enter all at once," the wolf above me growled. His voice had become rough, husky. It was the first time I noticed any change in his tone the whole evening. He was close, I realized. Another huffed laugh. "Let us put on a show, Kitten, shall we?"
"Yes," I gasped, shocked after the face to realize the question was rhetorical. He made a sound I couldn't interpret in my ear. Surprise? 
My thoughts were interrupted as he suddenly leaned backward. I yelped, a near-canine sound of my own, as I found myself hung taught by the chains. He was leaning on his heels, thrusting deep into me as I hung in the air, all four limbs akimbo. His hand grasped the fur of my chest, tight enough to hurt, though I didn't feel it. All I felt was the effect of gravity, pulling me back down onto his long shaft every time he lifted me back into the air.
He ground his cock deep inside of me. I could feel it for sure now. His knot was sliding into me, and out. So that's what he had meant, "not all at once." I whimpered. The chief's paw left my cock, and I felt three fingers tease into my muzzle. I licked at them, tasting my own salty precum. I suckled harder. I didn't even realize until his paw left my mouth that I could have bitten down. 
His hand gripped me tightly again. I felt his palms teasing against my barbs now. I was so hard. Somehow, after all this, arousal poured through me. I felt like I must be in a delirium. That must be it. I had gone mad, at last. 
And what is left to the mad, but to enjoy their madness?
"A tail-lifter has no right to a knot," the alpha snarled in my ear. He bit on it, pulling hard enough to make me gasp, but not hard enough to injure. I wasn't sure what he meant, because a moment later I felt his knot slide deep into me once again. It was so big now! Yet he pulled it back, once again, making me whine and kick my legs against the chains.
"But while I cover you, I am your alpha, and you are my bitch," he continued. I wondered if what he said had special significance to the rest of the Pack. All I cared about in that moment was that his paw kept stroking me, his cock slipping back and forth in my ass as he prepared to once again fill me with his knot. 
"And as my bitch, you have one right…" the chief declared. I felt his knot push against me again. Big. Far far too big to slide back inside, surely. I whimpered, feeling pulled down against it by gravity. I needed it. Having it in me—well—I didn't know what it would do, but I wanted it to happen. My muzzle was open, I realized, a string of long mewls escaping me as if no one was watching. His paw left my cock for a moment, and I started. He finished his sentence: "…to beg."
"P-please! Please! Alpha, please! Don't stop, please. I beg. I submit! I'll be your bitch in every way, just... please…. Knot me! Let me cum for you, please!"
I felt his teeth sink into my nape, and his arms flexed around me, the first time I felt him exert himself. I gasped, eyes going wide as I felt his knot press against me. It felt bigger than my paw! But he pushed and I mewled like a feline in her first heat, words of desire tumbling from me without thought.
His paw did not go back to my cock, but I felt myself twitching in the open air, dripping my precum onto the ground. He was so big… but I gave way, slowly. Opening for him bit by bit. It didn't feel like a ball, it felt like nothing I could describe. Every thrust pushed different pieces of him against and into me. I opened my muzzle wide, a long keening yowl escaping, despite my ravaged throat. His claws pierced my flesh. I felt him tense, and pull.
He slid inside me. All the way inside me. Deeper than I would have imagined possible. His knot spread out within me, igniting something explosive in my body. 
I came. I came as I never had before. Before the entire Pack—long forgotten by me—my cock leapt, splashing my cum in long ropes onto the ground below. The chieftain held me tight, and I knew he was cumming as well. It felt different than with the other wolves, and certainly the hounds. I couldn't feel it in the same way, yet I knew with more surety than I ever had any of the others. I could feel him quivering, and I was able to rest back against him, completely suspended by his strength as I splashed everything I had without so much as a touch to my sheath. I didn't need to be touched. I didn't want it. I was content to lay back and cum until my seed dribbled down my own sheath and balls, as the alpha wolf did the same, locked deep inside my ass.
I felt a wave of dizziness crest over me. It should have been alarming, but after everything that had happened, it was almost welcome. Blackness crept into my vision, turning the forest into a faded vignette.
I was not at all aware of how long it was before the chief lowered me back to the ground. I could still feel him twitching against me. Was he still coming? Well, let him. I lay in the matted grass, the stench of wolf jizz filling my nose. I was too tired to care.
The chief leaned over me, nudging at my ear as if to check if I were conscious. My tongue shot out by instinct, and I felt his hand on the back of my head. Almost gentle. Almost.
"You have made yourself mine now, by Pack law," he murmured. I nodded. That sounded like what I'd done.
"If you betray me, or I sense any threat, any falseness from you, Kitten, you will find yourself here again. And I will ensure you will live for many years of service to my Pack. Do you understand me?"
I shuddered, feeling the last of my load dribbling from my balls, his joining as it leaked from around his swollen knot. I looked out at the gathered beasts, the anthros, and the metal ball gag on the ground splashed in Pack cum. 
"I understand," I answered. Nothing would be the same. I wasn't dead, no. But my life as I knew it was over. 
"Sleep, Kitten," were the first words of my new life, the last of my old.