Fantasm, Authoritarian, BDSM, Bestiality, Bondage and restriction, Cruelty, Discipline, Domination/submission, Fan fiction, Humiliation, Male Domination, Non-consensual sex, Rape, Reluctance, Slavery, Torture, Written by women
"Where are you...? Aha!" I exclaimed, finding my quarry: A ball gag. I then turned around to
view my masterpiece. My basement was the training arena. It was dank and dim, with brick
walls and a soundproofed door. There was no screaming to be heard in case training got...
a little rigorous. In which case it usually did. Floor to ceiling there were cabinets lining
the wall on the west side of the room of all sorts, big and small, concealing various training
"utensils". Rope was piled in one corner of the room, and chains hung from the ceiling
with manacles at the ends of each one. There were three wooden beds in the basement, placed in the
room at even intervals, and my prize Umbreon lay in the center one, bound to the cot at its
ankles and wrists. It was the showcase of the room. I had knocked it out, and it was breathing
evenly, completely unaware of the impending events to occur. The air was heavier then
somehow, thick with the anxious eagerness I felt staring at it.
"Rise and shine~" I growled, slapping the young Umbreon awake with my free hand as the
other hand was holding the gag. My hands were clad in gloved that had dull spikes at the
palm, which made my slap sting like Hellfire. It came around quickly, taking in its surroundings
deftly with wide, fearful eyes. Immediately, its azure rings began to glow as it screeched. It was
preparing for an attack. Purplish haze surrounded it. It was going to use Toxic.
"Uh uh uh..." I scolded, deftly withdrawing a syringe from my pocket and shoving it into
a vein in its arm.
"Kreeee!" It howled, and the glow that it once emanated died down immediately as I
injected it with the clear fluid. Now that Umbreon's powers had been nullified, I was
free to do what I wished. It stared at me spitefully, and I set the ballgag down on the edge of
the wooden bed and, removing one of my gloves, carressed its cheek with my hand.
It jerked its head to bite my hand, and I chuckled as I pulled my hand out of its reach.
"And that's why I'm here," I informed it coldly. "To teach you manners. Slaves
don't bite their owners!" I exclaimed fiercely, whaling my hand across its face
once more with my still-gloved left hand, leaving welts as it cried out again.
"Shut up," I snarled, prying open its jaws and wedging the gag between its teeth, fastening
it to the back of its head as it squirmed to no avail. It cowered as I raised my hand again,
and I suddenly grinned.
"You don't want it?" I inquired.
The Umbreon shook its head vigorously.
"Then make this easier on yourself and do what I say, lest you get punished."
It hesitated. I had just about enough of its defiance. It would obey me, and I'd
make sure of it. That's the whole reason why it was here. To learn perfect
obediance in order to be sold at the Auction. I swiped its breasts as hard as I
could, and it tore the skimpy fabric that covered them, leaving small cuts
where it dug into skin. It arched its back, mewling behind its gag and
nodding furiously. Its perky breasts bounced with the movement, and its
nipples became erect due to the slight chill of the room.