The Kennels

Three collared subs drag themselves across the kennel floor on hands and knees, asses high, tits swaying heavy. They keep their heads down and their voices low—soft, wet sounds—offering their mouths, their holes, their silence if that’s what it takes to be set loose. One of them risks a glance up, lips already parted like she’s ready to take a cock on command. The biggest dick in the room decides who stays and who goes. No ceremony. Just obedience. They crawl, they plead, they wait to be used.