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Petey had Dogman pinned to the cold concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse, arms and legs firmly planted to either side of the hybrid, leaving him unable to move. The place was a wreck to say the least, with shattered glass scattered across the floor, cobwebs hanging from rusted beams, and scraps of debris piled in every corner. The night air slipped in through broken windows, carrying in the harsh breeze of October. A steel muzzle caged Dogman’s snout, the leather straps biting into the back of his head; a natural consequence for daring to bite the cat. His hands were bound together by rope above his head, muscles tensing against the restraints as the wind brushed over his fur and sent a shiver down his spine.
The bite mark that Dogman had inflicted upon Petey’s cheek glistened under the pale moonlight that slipped through the broken windows. The blood was stark against the patch of now-missing fur. Petey was pissed that the mutt managed to leave a mark on his face. But whatever he had done, Petey was about to return tenfold. He thumbed at the bloody wound on his face and looked down at the red that now covered his paw. Keeping eye contact with the hybrid beneath him, he opened his mouth and licked the blood clean
Dogman whined at the sight.
He hated himself for how much this predicament turned him on.
He was sent by the Okhay City police to shut down Petey’s latest robot operation. He tracked the cat to this abandoned warehouse, but before he could make the arrest, things went south fast. Now, the helplessness and control Petey held over him only made his pulse quicken and his stomach burn with heat.
Petey looked down at Dogman, studying him like he might study an intriguing piece of machinery in the lab. He felt the rise and fall of Dogman’s chest beneath him and met the angry, defiant stare that refused to look away.
Dogman let out a piercing bark and jerked forward, startling Petey. The cat quickly regained his bearings and cracked a smile that stood in sharp contrast to Dogman’s glare, refusing to relinquish control.
Just as swiftly, he shoved Dogman’s face back into the ground, keeping him there, claws threatening to come out and pierce his skin. He let out a self-satisfied cackle.
“Oh, Greg. If the word hate were written on every fiber of my being, it still wouldn’t equal a fraction of what I feel for you,” Petey spat, leaning in so that the hybrid could feel his hot breath against his face.
Dogman tried once more to push him off, to escape the restraints, but his head throbbed from the earlier beatdown and he had little strength left. He let out a low growl, frustration mixing with pain.
“This is a good look for you, Dogman. So defenseless,” Petey murmured, as he dragged his paw down to hold the side of Dogman’s face, feeling the coldness of the steel muzzle. He began swaying his tail across Dogman’s legs, slow and deliberate, to remind him of who held the power. He swished his tail until it landed on the spot he had been searching for between Dogman’s legs and pressed down hard.
Dogman jolted at the contact.
“My my, what could this be?” Petey asked, feeling the damp spot.
A low, threatening grumble rumbled from Dogman’s throat, but it did little to deter Petey.
The cat sat back and looked down at him, clicking his tongue. “Did you perhaps have an accident? Now this won’t do,” he said, tugging at Dogman’s pants.
He swiftly unsheathed his claws and tore a gash through the fabric, grazing Dogman’s leg. A sharp whimper escaped him. Petey’s claws moved ruthlessly, ripping and slashing at his clothing until only his boxers remained.
Dogman felt the cold air bite at his exposed skin and new wounds, and despite it, heat continued to pool in his lower body.
“Now I see the problem” Petey said, eyes drifting to Dogman’s crotch where a damp spot had formed on his boxers.
“You dirty mutt. First you bite unprompted, and now you soil your clothes,” Petey murmured, voice low and dangerous. “Looks like you’re in dire need of disciplinary action.”
Petey’s words dripped with condescension, and yet Dogman felt himself melting under them, knees wobbling, chest tightening, like every syllable was slowly stripping away his resistance. He hated how much he wanted to surrender to it, how powerless he felt in the wake of Petey’s sharp, commanding tone.
No, of course not. It was worse than hate.
He loved it.
Petey gripped the waistband and ripped the underwear off in one swift motion, exposing Dogman’s aching cunt.
“What a mess,” Petey said, though his own twitching cock betrayed how much the sight enthralled him.
Dogman whimpered as he looked down at Petey who had settled himself between his legs.
His legs were not restrained. All he had to do was kick. He could use the moment to wrestle free from the hand restraints and attack. His kung fu skills would be enough to get him out of this, he’s certain of it.
His knees twitched, jerking as if ready to kick, to push Petey away, but something inside him held him back at the last second. He could not bring himself to do it.
“Easy now,” Petey said, watching the hybrid’s expression, reading his thoughts clear as day. Dogman’s face was flushed, every line betraying his inner conflict. It was glorious to witness.
Petey reached his head down and pressed a kiss to the jut of his clit and then licked inside of him, bristling at the sweet taste of Dogman’s cunt. Dogman stilled, feeling the scratching pain of a rough tongue on his body.
He really should be sickened… enjoying this treatment. And yet, Dogman can't bring himself to care about that right now.
“I’ll have to clean you up,” Petey purred.
He loves the way Dogman’s thighs twitch under his paws as he touches them, keeping them open as his tongue slides into Dogman’s messy hole. He’d been so wet from so little that Petey is almost curious if he can have the cop dripping with need before fucking him.
His tongue swirls inside of Dogman’s cunt as he listens to the strained, whimpering noises above him, picking up the jagged, pained breathing coming from his chest.
He’s a disgusting display; fully unable to control any of his body’s automatic responses, but Petey’s certain he isn’t even trying to anymore.
Dogman had fallen right into Petey’s hands, and the cat planned to take his sweet time dismantling him completely, only to piece him back together, simply because he could. Dogman makes a soft, breathy noise above him, and Petey can feel the way his walls tense up against his tongue.
It hurts.
It hurts so bad.
And he loves it.
He’s frantically breathing now and attempting to pull his arms away from the restraints, as if he wants to sign something. He arches his back and jerks around.
“I’m going t-to” Dogman thinks as he whines, hoping he’s able to convey this to Petey. And the cat picks up on it.
He draws away from him. Blowing a cooling, soothing breath over his pussy, red and puffy, throbbing so hard that it almost seems like it hurts.
And it does.
“Falling apart already?” Petey asks, smiling venomously as Dogman’s face crumpled, a frustrated whine escaping his throat while he squirmed and bucked, begging for more stimulation. “I thought you had more fight in you.”
Rough paws find his clit once more and rub it in small, firm circles that make Dogman’s feet kick out, his lungs heaving as he struggles to breathe, especially against the hot condensation of the muzzle. Petey uses his other paw to finger him until his whimpers turn sharp and pained. The orgasm crashes over him hot and harsh and he cries out and Petey swallows up the intoxicating sight. Without even giving him a second to come down from the orgasm, a radio click is heard in the distance, causing them to freeze and both their ears to perk up.
The two turned their heads to look at the spot on the floor where Dogman’s walkie talkie had been thrown across the room earlier.
“Dogman. Do you copy? We’re on our way now,” a static voice called out before clicking itself shut.
“Rats,” Petey cursed, frantically looking around to plot his escape.
He swished his tail curiously, making mental calculations. He’d have at least a few minutes before they got here.
“Do you want to come again, Dogman? I can’t imagine that was enough to make you feel completely satisfied anyway.” Plus he still had his own erection to deal with.
They had both heard Chief clear on the radio, and yet he watched as Dogman’s eyebrows knitted together, his eyes wide and helpless, before he slowly nodded, a defeated, pathetic gesture as he huffed breathlessly.
Petey smirked.
“That’s all you needed to say”
The feline pushed Dogman’s knees apart and crawled between them, moving slowly toward his face. His cock had already sprung out with his arousal, the tip rubbing against Dogman’s weeping hole as he inched forward.
He puts an arm to either side of Dogman’s head and shifts forward. Dogman cringes as he feels the quills of his cock scratch against his cunt. Petey leans into the dog’s ear.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I”m going to fuck you until you forget why you came here in the first place, and you’re going to take what I give you like the ‘good boy’ you are,” he whispers gruffly.
Dogman’s clit twitches in desperation at the words “good boy”.
He wants nothing more than to be fucked at this moment. He’s far beyond the point of fighting. Petey drags his dick down and into his entrance, pushing it open and entering. The hybrid’s sensitive walls are greedily spread open, parting around Petey’s girthy cock. He wastes no time.
Dogman cries out as he feels the quills stab at him with every back and forth thrust of Petey’s body. The cat bites his neck to keep him in place, hard enough that he draws blood.
It’s a steady pressure against the sensitive edge of his clavicle that makes Dogman’s cunt spasm harshly around the penis. His eyes snap open, his mouth dragging open and breathing hotly against the muzzle. It makes the pain melt into pleasure, and Petey has Dogman moaning and mewing and groaning and falling apart underneath him. He chokes a little, drool falling off the side of the muzzle, staring hazily at the ceiling. He feels completely subdued.
Dogman didn’t know he could even feel like that.
When he comes again, he cries. It’s fucking precious, his face scrunching up in blissful pain, tears spilling hot and fat down his cheeks. The stimulation is too much for him, with Petey’s cock seated so deep inside that it touches every single sensitive part of his body all at once. Petey muffles a groan against his skin as his cock jerks and twitches, spilling hot inside Dogman’s cunt.
Petey steps back, pulling his softening member from Dogman. He looked down at Dogman sprawled beneath him; at the pearly white spill of his cum leaking out of Dogman’s cunt. Bruises, welts, and scratches marred his body. A sense of pride washed over him as he traced the marks with his eyes, seeing the masterpiece he had created on his body. He knew that every time Dogman looked in the mirror, he would see the evidence of who had owned him tonight.
Before Dogman could fully process what was happening, he realized he could sit up. His wrists were free, the restraints gone, but the muzzle still covered his face. Blinking against the dim light, he looked around and spotted Petey perched on the ledge of a window, calm, composed, and completely in control.
Dogman’s body ached, each mark and bruise a testament to what had just happened. Despite the pain and exhaustion, he could not stop the shiver running through him. Petey’s eyes met his, sharp and approving, and he felt it again, that undeniable weight of possession, the thrill of being completely unwraveled and claimed.
“We should do this again sometime. Might wanna clean yourself up before your backup arrives,” Petey murmured, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. The distant sound of police sirens and the flashing of blue and red lights could be seen behind him.
Then he left, leaving Dogman sprawled on the floor, a completely dumbfounded mess, every muscle aching and throbbing, a living reminder of everything that had just happened that night, frantically scrambling to pick up the pieces of his torn clothing and dignity.