The subtle smell of mildew and general dampness always made Grif’s sheath swell. It was the smell of his favorite dom’s basement, an older wolf who specialized in a certain form of depravity. The amber light of the single, incandescent, bulb did not pierce through the hyena’s blindfold and left him in complete darkness. But he knew the wolf was still present, nitrile covered paw continued to stroke Grif’s shaft. The long and slender length extended just past the hyena’s belly button, an impressive length but common among his species. His chest rose and  tightened the leather straps that held him secure to a medical gurney. They’d only loosen slightly when he exhaled.

Those thick straps kept him in place while he was edged, tortured, and reduced to mere whimpers behind the thick piece of wood lodged between his teeth. The ivory points bit into the gag, powerful jaws nearly threatened to snap the piece in two. But he knew such an act would only prolong the experience, not that he would mind it. However, he knew the wolf was about to move onto the more intense play and he was not sure just how far the man would go. 

“A test for another day,” Grif thought and relaxed. Hips ground up into the expertly stroking hand. Balls were nearly inside his body from the tightness, blue balled, they begged for sweet release. 

Right at the edge the wolf removed his hand just in time which made Grif growl and whine. His hips thrashed on their own accord, body brought to that edge of orgasm many times prior the past few hours. It was fruitless though, he wouldn’t get off till his sir was satisfied his toy had endured enough. Cock drooled thick precum onto his brown tummy and made the leather swell with moisture. A sizeable puddle had accumulated on the smooth belly, void of recognizable peaks and valley of muscle. 

He felt his sir place his hand on his throat and squeezed lightly, just enough to feel his blood pressure build in his skull. Grif began to feel and hear his pulse grow as those fingers expertly found his artery and blocked it. The hyena moaned and rolled his head side to side and fought against the precise fingers that threatened to knock him unconscious. Despite it all, his cock throbbed and bounced tight to his belly.

“You love it when I treat you like this don’t you,” the wolf said to himself as his fingers released. “Nod your head if you understand what I’m saying,” the wolf continued to speak as he walked toward the head of the gurney. “If you grunt four times rapidly, I’ll stop what I’m doing until you grunt once agreed?” Theckx nodded his head, round ears lowered as he heard a cascade of water.

The wolf had pulled Grif’s shirt and pants out of the bucket of water, the excess slid across the concrete toward a drain.He rung the clothing out and did not care about the splashes that coated his leather boots. Satisfied with the dampness, he returned to the hyena and draped the soaked jeans over his head. Pointed, brown, snout was left exposed for the moment as the wolf reached for a large gallon jug filled with an amber liquid. He popped the top and immediately the room was filled with the scent of potent, fermented, piss. Grif wiggled and moaned in his bondage while the wolf wrapped an apron around his front. Grif knew what was about to come, it was the same play that had aroused him all those years prior. 

Grif began to pant and drool when he felt the cold shirt tickle under his chin. The wadded fabric was slowly drawn up his snout until it tickled his nostrils. With little fanfare the shirt sealed his nose and mouth, fingers held tight and pressed the hyena’s head back to keep his nose vertical. Grif waited as time seemed to slow in his now dampened darkness. Breath was difficult to achieve and then made painful as the first splash of wolf piss was dribbled over his face. It was only a mere splash, enough to saturate the fabric and to allow a few drops of the liquid to be sucked into his nose. The effect was immediate, head tossed side to side as he growled. More liquid was poured onto his face, the scent near unbearable and thick. He felt the liquid burn as it began to flow through his nose and end up at the back of his throat. The taste was nowhere near the torture as he was willingly waterboarded. 

The wolf was light with the jug of piss, ears perked as he listened to the hyena’s noises, always alert for the eject code. The flow of piss began to increase and splashed against the hyena’s fabric covered face. But he paused the flow after some time and began to count out loud.

“One, two,” it was agony, desperate agony that made Grif’s hands clench and flail against the leather. “Three, four,” Grif’s mouth was slowly filled with the trickle of piss, the taste and pain nearly made him vomit. “Five, six,” Grif’s teeth gnawed the wood as he attempted to breath through his mouth. “Seven, eight,” he swallowed what he could and sputtered as some of the fluid made it to his lungs. “Nine, ten,” despite it all, he could not deny how hard he had become. Veins appeared on the ebony surface and bulged obscenely. 

Breath, sweet, unhindered breath flooded his nostrils and caused the piss to aerosol into his body. He coughed behind the gag and forced a combination of spit and piss to squirt between black lips and nostrils. Grif felt the wolf use his clothing to wipe some of the backup off his face before the fabric was returned. Once more the piss flowed more heavily and quickly filled his sinuses. The sensation of being drowned was indescribable as that piss filled his mouth and stomach, breath cut completely off. The second count of ten felt like years as he endured, the torture. 

Three more times, did he hear those same numbers repeated, each longer than the last. But Grif was granted final relief as the last of the cold piss had been spilled from the jug that had contained it. The wolf chucked the plastic to the ground, which clattered in a dramatic fashion. The clothes were removed from his drenched face and thrown aside as well. But his face was not in a near naked state for long. The gag had been removed during their session, which allowed Grif’s mouth to hang open and pant in distress. He heard the wolf and what sounded like latex being slapped around before he felt the synthetic rubber touch the tip of his nose. The wolf’s paws clamped his snout shut and rolled the latex muzzle over it. Simple snaps kept it secure, anything heavier would have been overkill. The thick latex was like a tight condom and kept his jaws clenched firmly. Nostril holes offered limited breath, but air was air in this deprived basement. 

Grif felt his long cock fondled and nearly lost his ball juice across his chest, but a firm smack to his testicles quickly yanked him away from the edge. Still firm, he felt his tender balls being pulled away from his body and then covered in a thick slime. A black, rubber, band was wrapped and tightened at the base of his sack which kept his testicles in a tight bunch. More sticky lube and bands were placed along his shaft, one just above the ridge of his spade tip. He heard a couple plastic, clicks, and jumped when he felt a firm vibration roll from his balls and tip to the center of his cock. It slowly grew, it tickled at first and quickly turned into a sensation that he could only imagine a concrete shaker could achieve. 

Though the vibrations of the electricity was not just a surface sensation, no, it felt as if every nerve in his sensitive cock had their own mini vibrator attached to them. It quickly became too much, close to painful which he vocalized and thrashed at. The wolf’s sadistic chuckle echoed in the room and overpowered the hyena’s vocalizations as well as the metal buckles as they clinked against the metal surface. But the wolf clicked another button on the power supply which made the sensations dull to a light hum. The sensation hummed randomly in waves from his cock head and from the base. It was truly random and kept Grif firm.

Grif’s breath whistled through the tight air holes and was immediately missed as the wolf’s palm landed over them. Mid exhale, the latex muzzle deformed and caught the stale air before Grif sucked it in again. The rubber deformed itself around his sharp teeth and became visible as he tested the seal. Chest relaxed and his exhale was again trapped in the latex, the dilemma clear he sucked in the oxygen deprived air. He held it and began to struggle against the hand, but it was relentless. There was a burn in his lungs, the breath felt like a brick in his lungs. A wet brick that made his pulse race and cock to begin to flex under the waves of stimulation. When he exhaled a whimpered groan came with it, the balloon of latex swelled larger than it had before. 

There was a burst of noise as the hand let the trapped air out of the latex chamber but the hand would not the whistle return. The hyena’s body sucked in breath when he thought he was given breath again. But the latex sealed itself tight again and slipped between his lips and revealed more of his facial features. His legs began to kick in breathless embrace, yells of need muffled out by latex and the wolf’s palm. Hands were clenched, muscles that normally wouldn’t be seen flexed and bulged beneath brown fur. The gurney was alive with noise as the fight grew fierce, but the anchored table held firm along with the belts. The burn grew and grew in his lungs to a near unbearable level. But the tickle in his balls grew along with it. 

The electrical controls had steadily began to increase the stimulation to the hyena’s genitals. Stimulated by the onset of asphyxia and the internal vibrations his cock refused to become flaccid. The slender penis bounced against the chest that struggled for breath. A near constant pulse of pre-seed shot across his chest and painted it in clear, spider web-like tangles. But they didn’t last. Jostled by the fight, they were soon soaked into Grif’s fur saturating it in pleasure. 

Again the hand left the seal and allowed more of the breath to escape. Lungs struggled and flexed their muscles to attempt to inflate. But the hyena was reduced to short gasps, the strain too much for his body to handle. He felt his lungs begin to grow tired from the extra exertion needed to suck. Blue stars in his vision began to form in the darkness of the blindfold, that began to grow brighter with each second. That was it, his body needed air or release. Conflict was easily won out, body thrashed in an awkward attempt to thrust. The ridge of his cock flared and the first jets of his climax was forced out of his body. Pleasure flooded him just as his front was flooded in thick goo. The pearly seed copiously pumped from his body in thick ribbons, ones that he couldn’t even think to force out with the use of his own hand. 

“Air,” Grif shouted internally as the first blast of fresh air screamed down his throat. 

The wolf chuckled and stroked along the hyena’s head. The nostrils of the mask were soon coated in snot as Grif caught his breath and began to recover from the intense session. The electrical stimulations were now his focus as the blue stars faded. It approached the highest level of power, set by the wolf, and it felt even more intense on his spent shaft. But that too was soon relieved as the power was turned off and the hyena was left with nothing.

Body continued to tingle, the constant stimulation and torture was as if it had grown too familiar with it. As he relaxed and wound down he couldn’t help but feel like his body was empty. It longed for more, for more whatever it was the wolf was capable of doing. The only satisfaction would come from his sir’s admiration.

“Very good boy,” the wolf said as he began to unstrap Grif. “You lasted much longer than others, I’m very proud of you.”

Grif ears raised slightly when he heard those warm words. That void of deprived pleasure was soon filled with a sense of accomplishment. It gave his body strength to sit up on its own accord. The belts schlipped off his torso, coated in cum and other fluids, and then fell with a clatter on the metal table. He began to turn his attention to the belts that bound his legs but the wolf swiped his hand away. 

“No, allow me,” the wolf said and undid the last of the bondage. 

Grif’s ears lowered again as he watched the apron clad wolf undo his bondage with a grace he could not achieve. It made the ordeal worth it, as he felt like in his own way the dom was bowing to him. Free, his legs were allowed to swivel over the edge of the gurney and hang freely. The blood slowly filled them, legs spread in a natural and comfortable position. The wires around his cock hung between those legs, shaft still semi firm. But it had slipped slightly into his sheath and continued to shrink smaller. The wolf slipped his instruments off but left the blindfold for last. 

“Wait there boy,” the wolf rumbled. “You genuinely exceeded my expectations, other submissives would have tapped out long before we got to this point. I feel lucky you found me,” the wolf explained. Grif followed the wolf’s voice with his head and couldn’t help but give a reserved grin, “it’s okay to speak.”

“Thank you sir,” Grif said. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

The wolf chuckled and snapped the clasp to his bag that held the smaller supplies and instruments of pleasure. “Mm, I’d like to continue this, but that is your choice. In one minute you may remove your blindfold and leave. You know how to contact me when you’re ready for something serious.”

Grif did as he was told and estimated when a minute had expired. His hands moved to remove the blindfold and found the room empty. It was always like this, how it ended, the wolf prefered to keep his anonymity to those not officially his property. He slid off the gurney and moved to collect his undershirt and jeans. But he didn’t put them on and instead reached for his duffel bag and pulled out some toiletries. The expensive shampoo’s scent filled the tight bathroom as he showered and washed the grime off his fur. The nylon bristles scraped the mossy sensation off his teeth while the minty flavor of toothpaste sloshed around. Gingerly, he stepped into his boxers and pulled them up until the fabric loosely cradled his sack. 

With calm, precise, and familiar movements a silk shirt was tucked under slacks and a belt pulled tight. Grif combed his hair before he fixed his tie and exited the bathroom. He began to walk toward the base of the stairs that lead to the bright day ahead of him. But something caught his eye at the door frame. A collar hung from it, one that appeared to be made of the same leather Grif’s Rolex used. Gems were perfectly embroidered along the surface and from chrome loops hung a silver plated tag with his name on it. 

Grif stared at the collar, “should I take it?”