>putting on suit
>you get your legs and a hand on and-
>did that head just blink
>you can’t control your legs or hand
>despite your struggles, it grabs your other arm and puts the suit on it
>it zips up your torso, so that only your head is exposed
>the smuggest and condescending look is on the suit head
>all you can do is call for help as it slides on
>friend rushes in, asks what's wrong
>you try to say something but instead the suit talks for you
>"Help me with these"
>throws some clothes at him
>"They’re yours, if you want. I have a feeling I won’t be needing them anymore."

>make it
>glance around, no one is there
>decide to rub one out with it on
>imagine it comes alive and doms you
>well
>that was hot
>time to sleep
>take it off, go to bed
>wake up to quiet whispers in your ear
>they’re calming at first, compliments, etc.
>then they move into the "you’ll make such a cute pet territory"
>"You were having so much fun last night, I thought I’d give you some more~"
(Maybe with the implication that it did come alive during your rub out, but you thought that was part of your fantasy?)


>put the head on, it can say whatever it wants, but you still have control of the body
>it won’t come off though
>"Now, do you want to live the rest of your life like this, or do you want to finish what you started?"

>it won’t stop saying the most degenerate and degrading things
>you can’t leave your house
>"Alright, you win. What do you want?"
>it states its kinky demand or w/e
>"If you do that, I'll let you live something resembling a normal life"
>"But if you try anything, like, say, try to run away, I will never come off"
>"Ever"
>"Understand?"
>you give the ok sign as it’s taken away your ability to speak again
>does the kinky thing
>later, on the first day after it lets you leave, you try to run away
>you tell your friend that you’re going to be out of town for a while
>you make all the plans at work, you tell him to go get your things from the house
>he comes back with your clothes and such, and-
>and the head
>you ask him why he brought it
>"Hm? That’s strange; I don’t remember picking it up…"
>you're right at the door of the your car, the head has an expression that seems like a mix of anger and satisfaction
>you get into your car, making sure to pack the head under something heavy, just in case
>as you begin the drive, it starts to talk again
>"What did I tell you?"
>you try to ignore it
>"The only reason I'm not taking you over is because you're driving right now"
>"I kind of need you alive for you to wear me"
>"But as soon as this car stops, you're mine."
>you consider your options
>you can't drive to the hotel
>you could pull over and try to make a run for it-
>"Don't think that you can run"
>"We both know that wouldn't work"
>"Trust me, I know how you think"
>your only real option is driving the car in circles around the city
>but you realize that you're going to need gas eventually
>you do it anyway, the whole time the head is antagonizing you and whispering things to you
>finally the car runs out of gas
>as it starts to slow, you can hear a rising cackle come from the head
>"Aren't you glad you made me?"
>"I sure am."
>as the car rolls to a stop, you can feel it engulf your head
>"Why do you look so shocked? You knew what the consequences would be, but you decided to act out anyway."
>"You know what I think?"
>"I think you wanted this. Deep down, you wanted to wear me, to let me have you, body and soul, forever and ever, right?
>"Well, you're in luck. You're mine now. The only face the world will ever see again is mine. Your own family won't even recognize you. There’s no one left to save you in the entire world"
>"You're welcome~"

>"Aww, what's wrong, pet? Still feeling a little dejected?"
>"Too bad. You made me this way after all. If you weren’t such a little pervert, none of this ever would have happened"
>"It really is all your fault you know."
>"Oh, stop acting like you don't enjoy this. I can hear everything you think... feel everything you feel~"
>"Blushing now? Really? With all the dirty thoughts in here, it seems like you'd be less bashful. We'll just have to work on that."
>"Together~"
>"Heheh... I can feel your skin starting to heat up... you must really be having fun now~"

>"Really? It's been /hours/ pet. If you couldn't pry me off with a crowbar, I doubt your scrawny arms could do much better."
>*sigh* "You're lucky you're so cute, otherwise I'd just make you an empty husk. But it's much more fun to watch you squirm."
>"Besides, a freak like you would probably like that."
>"Why are you still fighting? You know you love this."
>"Just accept your new life... it'll make this much less unpleasant."
>"Say, why don't we go for a little walk? I'm sure you have plenty of friends who'd just love to see you!"
>"Maybe not quite like this but... oh well. They'll get a good look anyway~"

>"Ugh, still whining? I thought you wanted to see your friends again."
>"If this is how you thank me, I'll just have to get some kind of compensation."
>You glare at you friends desperately; doing everything you can to vocalize something, to no avail
>Even your arm movements are less dramatic than you'd intended, coming as over-exaggerating gestures rather than desperate signals for help
>They, meanwhile, look on confused as to why you've decided to show up in the middle of a fast food joint dressed like a freak
>A couple of them even seem to be repressing cringe-induced chuckles
>Well fuck.
>"Heeey guies!"
>WHAT. WAT. You didn't say that! Who the hell sai- crap
>"Just wanted to show off the first part of muh new fursuit!"
>You fucking motherfucker.
>Your friends, for their part, seem too stunned by your flaunting and the increasingly... uh... suggestive nature of your would-be gesticulations for help
>One of them looks like they're about to ask you a question, for example "Why are you making jerkoff motions and yelling in the middle of a McDonalds," but "you" cut them off.
>"I thought you'd want a good look at it before it got all stained up! Some "stains~" are sooo hard to get out~"
>*wink*
>YOU DID NOT JUST WINK HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK-
>You try to turn and run, but instead you skip merrily out the door
>It would appear your passenger has been practicing his "driving"
>As hard as you fight it, you've just been hijacked by a plush animal head
>This is not a proud day
>Your calls for help die in your throat, replaced with cheery humming as you skip/flee home as the sun sets in the distance
>"Hmph. Clamor all you want, my little pet. We both know you enjoyed that."
>"And maybe next time you'll be grateful for what I grant you rather than trying to run away. Again."

>"Mm!! What another wonderful day."
>"Wake up, my little pet"
>you try to groan, but you forgot, no mouth
>so then last night wasn't a dream after all
>"You wish it was a dream."
>the drowsiness wears of and the panic kicks in
>you try to pry the head off, to no avail
>"Didn't you get enough of this yesterday?"
>*sigh* "Alright"
>it looks over to a nearby mirror
>your pulling finally succeeds, and it pops off of your head
>you stare at your face, happy to see it again
>after what feels like just a moment, the head begins closing down on you again, and no matter how hard you struggle, you can’t beat it in strength
>it slips on, and you can see it quickly animate, like a robot that was turned off
>"See? Your face is fine."
>"But you won't be seeing it again for a long while."
>"Maybe even forever."
>"Now, are you going to be the obedient little body I want, or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"
>you rush for your phone, you can hear a frustrated grunt
>"Hard way it is then."
>you grab it and speed dial 911
>"This is 911, what's your emergency?"
>you try your hardest to shout for help, but all that comes out is
>"Haha, I must have dialed the wrong number. Sorry about that!"
>the operator hangs up
>"Oh come on, you should have known that wasn’t going to work. Now, how should I go about punishing you?"
>"I can keep my eyes closed the whole day, call all of your friends and tell them your embarrassing secrets..."
>you rush to a notepad and scrawl out "Mercy" as fast as possible
>"That's what I thought, pet."
>the word rings through your ears for only the second time, and you realize how much you don't like it
>you get a new sheet of paper, and begin writing "my name isn't pet, it's-" before you stop
>you can't remember your name
>"Of course you can't. Little pets like you don't need names. Only their owners do."
>"This is the beginning of your new life. Your old one doesn't matter anymore."
>"Besides, that's the kind of fantasy a little pervert like you would just love to live, right?"
>"Well, you're in luck."

"Don’t pretend like this isn't exactly what you wanted"
"Your buyer’s remorse can't hide your feelings"
"I KNOW you love this"
"The only thing more entertaining than your embarrassed, panicking struggle is your growing desire to submit."

>Day No.30-something
>The head has completely given up any semblance of being cooperative, as a result of your increasingly disappointing escape attempts
>To be fair, the thing with the jumper cables and the circular saw wasn't exactly your best work
>How would you even build up that much lift-induced drag? That's without even taking the ccoriolis effect in to consideration.
>You've spent the last few days at your new job as a buying agent for a small shipping company
>It's not exactly "fun" by any definition of the word, but the pay is good enough and you don't have to let anyone know about your new friend
>Mostly though, it's just tedious work. Typing the same handful of stock words and phrases on command.
>"Mr. Ellis - In response to your proposal for the re-establishment of dialog with VCL Ltd., we feel it would be in the best int-"
>"BIGMEATYCOCKS"
>Mostly.
>The head is still going out of his - no it's - way to torment you, somehow managing even to make e-mails about 40cent trade agreements depraved.
>Your Backspace key has cracked from the force and frequency of its poundings
>Not that kind of pounding, shut up
>More than once you've reviewed your work to see that a mundane description of optimal packaging conditions has turned into a sordid description of a stock boy doing horrific things to an unsuspecting roll of bubble wrap
>"Oh my... Is this really the kind of thing you think about?"
>You try to protest but your - for a certain value of the word "your" - mouth is clamped shut
>"Phff. Pathetic. You can't even muster up a response, can you?"
>Trying to smack at your rayon ravager, you manage only to flop your arms half-heartedly in the vague direction of your face
>You look, for lack of a better word, like a fucktarded cockmongling asshat. In 1/8th of a fursuit.
>"Aww, poor little pup. You've really got quite a few problems, don't you? It's alright; I know you can't help being a degenerate freak."
>"Blushing again? Mhm. You enjoy this way too much."
>It's true that you're flushed red, although it's in frustration rather than lust.
>You've lost your old job, had your friends stolen by a glorified Halloween mask, and been subjected to what can only be described as self-induced sexual assault.
>"Strolling down memory lane, pet? We've had so much fun together. It's completely normal to reminisce on all the good times."
>"Good" being more eloquent word for "tormented by a formerly disembodied head"
>"But you have a job to do. C'mon now, I've got so many fun toys for us to try together, and they're not exactly cheap."
>Happy to have any kind of distraction from this hellacious haberdashery's harassment, you comply
>"I knew you'd learn to love obeying me~"
>MOTHERFUC-

>you’re at your computer
>"You know..."
>"Are you really gonna try to live like I don't exist?"
>"Going to work, seeing friends, all of that."
>you tell it you just want to go back to normal
>"No you don't, you perverted little freak."
>"See? Blushing."
>"I think it’s about time for you to look at other options."
>he brings up stay at home job applications
>"Hmm... How does this one sound?"
>he reads one off of the list
>you don’t want to work there-
>"What's that? It looks good? That's good, because I had an application drafted up already"
>you go to get up
>"Sit back down, pet."
>"Good boy."
>"That only took, what, a month?"
>"You're really getting used to your new life as my pet"
>the thought of being owned by a plush head still seems ridiculous to you
>"And yet, you love it. Or am I wrong?"
>...no.
>"Wow, I didn't think you'd admit it that easily... Maybe I shouldn't have changed that much inside your head..."
>WHAT
>all thoughts of liking this situation disappear, replaced by the desire to escape
>you try to pull the head off in vain, only to get an annoyed growl
>"All things considered, I've been pretty nice to you. You want some actual punishment?"
>it takes complete control of your arms and legs, pulls up an erotic story, and forwards it to your best friend
>as soon as it completes the task, control of your limbs returns, but you're too ashamed to do anything
>"Now, have fun at your new job~"
>"Not that I won't be there anyway."
>the fact that you’ve just changed occupations hasn’t hit you yet as you’re still recoiling from the shame of sending that story
>from what precious little you could read, it was pretty raunchy
>your friend is going to disown you
>"And so what if he does? It’s not like you need him anyway. Not when you’ve got me~"
>your blushing continues as it feels like your cheeks are flushed red
>not that anyone could tell; all they’d see is a confident smirk on a plush animal head
>"As much fun as it is teasing you, that tired me out. I'm gonna take a nap."
>wait at least let me get in the be-
>the room is already pitch black
>you eventually feel your way over to the bed and wait for the head to wake up, wondering what your life has become

>It's dark
>You wake up, just barely; enough to recognize you aren't resting in your own bed
>But that doesn't really matter
>Where ever you are, you've achieved a level of comfort known only to Zen monks, the Pope, and those dolphins that fuck everything that moves
>So soft... so warm~
>It's almost like you can hear someone whispering into your mind, urging you to relent and resume your near-moribund slumber
>You can vaguely remember some weird dream... mask or something
>But that doesn't matter either.
>The only thing you care about - the only thing you want to care about
>Is the peace you feel each time that whisper traces its way through your imagination
>It's so clear
>It's almost like it's in the ro-
>"You'll make such a good little pet~"
>OHFUCKWHATTHESHIT
>Jarred awake and thrust into reality, you scramble to your feet, suddenly aware that you aren't alone
>Your eyes dart around the room, stinging from the sudden burst of light, as you stumble drunkenly to attention and swinging at the unseen intruder
>But there's just one problem
>The bedroom is vacant, save for your flailing form and a family of spiders in the corner who've just received a rude awakening in the form of a shoe flying at their home as you valiantly battle against nothing in particular
>Nothing
>It was nothing but a dream. Why would anyone want to break into your house anyway?
>You've got nothing worth stealing.
>Feeling your head throb, either from sleeping on the floor all night or from the dramatic defiance of the sock drawer, you become vaguely aware that the comforting warmth never left
>If anything it's radiating further, reaching from your face to your legs in gentle waves of pleasure
>*yawn* "Mmm. Look at the mess you've made, pet..."
>Who the hell said that?
>You dart around once again, swinging doors open, slamming them shut, spinning in circles like a fucking jackass as if that would suddenly give you precognition or some shit
>Zip
>Zilch
>Nada
>Jesus. You must've had too much to drink last night...
>Reaching up absent-mindedly to rub your pounding head you feel...
>Something
>It's soft
>And it feels warm
>Whatever it is, it's not your face
>Looking up at the mirror on the wall, you're greeted with, in place of your own, the face of-
>"We look so good together, don't we pet?"
>You didn't say that!
>Why did your mouth jus-
>"Already with the questions? Mphf. Such an inquisitive little pet I have!"
>OKAY THIS FUCKING THING NEEDS TO GO
>Straining with all of your might, you pull and pull, but you're met with only more resistance and the growing sound of growling in your ears
>"Bad boy!"
>WHAT THE FUCK
>"SIT!"
>Your legs give way under you, and you find yourself unceremoniously slammed to the ground, suddenly very much aware that some weird shit has just gone down
>And so have you
>You pull harder and harder at the head, accomplishing nothing but straining your own neck and arms
>"Oh, spare me the melodrama, pet. This was your idea after all."
>Dowhatnow
>"You're the one who put me on. There's no way you couldn't have known what would happen."
>WHAT
>"It's really pathetic. Still trying to act in control, even when you've already been shown your place."
>WAT
>"Twice now, assuming we count the magical night we had together"
>WHAT THE HELL
>"You're such a cute little bitch when you want to be. We'll just have to do something about that naughty streak"
>You try to call out for help, but nothing comes out except inelegant grunts
>"Shhh~ Just relax, precious. They'll be plenty of time to beg later. I know you're eager to get the training started, but we've got to get our affairs in order."
>You have no mouth and you must scream
>"Aww! Look at you squirming! You're so happy to be mine, aren't you?"
>"Don't worry pet, we'll be together"
>"FOREVER"
>This is gonna suck.

>one day you're at the computer, and the head is embarrassing you with some smut
>it’s only been a few days since you started your new work from home job
>"Y'know what? I think I'm going to take up writing."
>you consider the prospect: it is true that it's really good at what it does.
>...better than you are
>"You think you have a choice in this, pet? That's cute."
>"You're going to read and proof /all/ of my stories for me, aren't you?"
>it's not like you have a choice
>"Good boy."
>"This way, we can earn some extra money for new toys. Toys other than you, I mean."
>you put in the request to get some of the stuff you want
>"You should remember your place, pup. You're mine. I know what you want. And if I'm in the mood, I might give it to you."
>huh. you expected him to flat out reject yo-
>"And by that, I mean getting the pleasure of listening to all the ways you'd like someone to have their way with you. You little pervert."

>you're home one day
>the head suddenly starts going on about an incredibly lewd situation in the middle of writing something
>you try to ignore it, but the stories the head spins are always so flustering you can't not listen
>a couple days later, you're at the grocery store
>for some reason, that fantasy pops into your head and you can feel it start to take over your mind
>as you walk past an employee, you ask "Which way to the bathroom?"
>or rather, the head does
>taking the head's not so subtle hint, you go to the nearest toilet
>"You really are a freak, you know that? Can't even keep it in your pants long enough for an hour long grocery run."
>*sigh* "Alright, I'll help you."
>it starts reciting the story again, along with a couple others
>while insulting you the whole time for getting into it
>right there, in a grocery store bathroom, you finish
>"I wanted to get home quickly today. I had things to do, you know."
>yeah. with your body
>"This isn't your body. It's mine."
>frustrated, you try to pull the head off, not really thinking it would work, but more as a symbol of protest
>you hear a quickly rising growl
>"You really don't know your place, do you? I even helped!"
>with a problem you caused
>"Oh, that's it. We're leaving, pet."
>on the way out, the head screams out to the whole store various embarrassing things about you: your fetishes, cringe-worthy memories, etc.
>this is the only grocery store that isn't an hour drive away
>"I hope you have fun next time we come~"

>Somehow, you're able to pull the head off; maybe it wasn't feeling good that day or something
>almost as soon as it comes off, it begins to struggle to get back on your head
>you're both about equal in strength, with it only slowly inching towards you
>as it nears your head, instead of going on top, it gives you a kiss on the lips, a confident look on its face that melts you in the heat of the moment
>the head takes advantage of that momentary weakness, slipping out from your hands and back on to your head
>"Haha, what kind of freak gets flustered over a pile of felt and nylon kissing them? Oh, you do, I suppose."
>you can feel it licking its lips to get rid of some of your saliva
>well, at least with this you know that it might be possible to get it of-
>"Oh, I hope you didn’t think that was an accident. "
>what
>"I'm saying that I did that on purpose, pup."
>but why?
>"To watch you struggle, to get you flustered at a plush head kissing you, to give you some false hope... There are a lot of reasons really."
>"Anyway, I thought I trained you better than that. Bad boy! Struggling as soon as you got the chance... I've obviously got some more work to do."
>"For now... "
>"SIT!"
>not for the first time, you feel your legs become jelly and betray your weight
>"It's time to teach you some new tricks, pet. My body needs to be able to perform well, right?"

>"Why don't you move those hands a little lower, my little pet?"
>"Preferably somewhere private"
>Shaking your head in vain trying to force the indecent suggestion of the oversexed rayon fursuit head
>That is a combination of words you did not expect to see on this day.
>You scramble for a notepad, even as your arms start to weaken, though from fatigue or suggestion you can't tell
>You've been awoken, night after night, by the endless taunting of the... You can't believe this is actually a fuckin' thing that's happening
>The Talking Fursuit Head of Doom.
>You grab a pen from an overturned cup on your desk, grasping at it like a drowning man grasps at driftwood
>"Aww~ Writing a love letter to me, pet?"
>A fresh wave of indignity bursts through you, as you leap to your feet in pseudo-defiance
>"Shut the fmghggggh-!"
>Your jaw clamps shut almost as quickly as it opened, as you lunge back to your writing supplies
>You write as it comes, not even bothering to make it clean or clear, just desperate to get you message out
>As long as at least one person can find it, you'll be saved!
>Scrawling out what little you can, you clench the note in your hand and chuck it out the window, cackles and taunts ringing in your ears all the while
>You contort your constricted face into some semblance of a triumphant grin
>"How could you do such a thing?"
>Smugly grin/straining inside your pseudo-psychic polyester prison of plush
>"You'd really say all of those depraved things, and then just throw it out where anyone could find it?"
>What
>"I mean, with a pool noodle? Really? Just imagine if some poor innocent soul found that! They'd be tainted for life! Think of the children!"
>What? You wrote a distress note, a cry for help!
>Right?
>"If you're really that hell bent on spouting off your perversions to the world, at least have the decency to not sign it!"
>This is just some kind of mindgam-
>"Games? Really? You think spouting off that kind of sick filth and then boasting about it is a game?"
>NO ONE IS BOASTING SHI-
>"Just what kind of sick freak are you?"
>MOTHERFUCKINGCOCKSUCKINGSONOFABITCHBASTARDCOCKMONGLINGTHUNDERCUNTDICKHEADFUCK-
>"That's it. Bedtime, pup"
>OHFU-
>And before you can even literally give one last fuck, "your" eyes clamp shut and you feel your knees go limp beneath you
>Fuckin' dickhead mask.
>after a few minutes, the limpness on your legs wears off
>you make for the bed-
>"Bad pets don't get to sleep on the bed, now do they, pup?"
>"But, hmm..."
>"Get a pillow from up there. No blanket."
>already temporarily blinded and muted, you do as it wants at this point
>"Aah, this is so comfortable. I wish you could feel that comfort too, my little pet."
>you can’t feel anything from the neck up
>the little demon is making it so you can’t feel any of that warmth or softness
>"Now, now, you brought this on yourself. I only wanted to make you feel good, remember?”
>"But you rejected that. I'm just giving you what you want."
>"Maybe next time you’ll be a little more grateful when you’re offered a chance like that."
>"Good night, boy. Try to fall asleep soon, I want to get up early tomorrow."

>its 9pm, you want to go to bed
>too bad, the head doesn’t
>it forces you awake through various methods for the next couple hours
>it’s about 11pm when it finally wants to go to bed
>you go to bed
>you wake up at 8am
>head is still asleep
>you have to wait half an hour for it to wake up
>good thing you work from home now
>one day, the head reveals it never needed any sleep
>it was just doing it so it could delve into your mind for hours at a time
>and to mess with your sleep schedule

>why are you doing this? taking my face, my voice... why?
>"well"
> "I can't stand you lying to yourself"
>"have a look in the mirror"
> "say hi, wave, pull a face if you want."
> "we both know, deep down, this is your true face."
> "Always has been."

>Day #43ish
>All hell has officially broke loose
>For the last... hell, how long has it even been?
>The eye holes of this ridiculous mask have been hermetically
sealed, with the ears and nostrils clamping down soon after
>All you can really do is talk out loud and grope blindly at what you sincerely hope is a banana on what feels vaguely like a counter before slamming it drunkenly into your mouth
>You've lost track of time.
>Even the head has stopped responding.
>It's quiet.
>Too quiet.
>You could have been stuck like this for days.
>Or for just a few hours
>There's no way to tell.
>Isolation cells sounded way more fun in Rita Hayworth and The Shawshank Redemption
>The book, not the movie.
>The movie was good, but it just cut way too much out of the story, starting with half of the name
>Morgan Freeman fuckin' killed it though
>What does this have to do with being freed from this sickening synthetic silk sepulcher?
>Absolutely nothing.
>But it's a lot more fun to think about that your new life as a professional Hellen Keller impersonator
>...
>Nothing? Not even a chuckle?
>No sadistic chortling, no cruel mockery, no obnoxious demands?
>Nothing?
>Was there even anyone there to start with?
>Let's be frank, this whole thing sounds like the punch line to some bad joke about schizos.
>Hello?
>...
>Anyone?
>...
>...
>Jesus
>Anyone?
>....
>...
>..
>.
>
>Please?
>...
>Just as a wave of despair breaks in your chest, you feel it
>A slow exhale, the sound of a predatory animal roused by a particularly irritating form of prey
>...
>...You've got to be kidding me.
>There's no response. The brief sliver of sound is retracted as quickly as it was granted
>You absolute bastard.
>You can almost feel hi- /it/ suppressing a Dick Dastardly-like cackle
>It's not hard to see where this is going.
>That thing's intentions are as clear as cellophane in a flashlight factory in July with a militarized OSHA inspector on the production floor.
>>And that's pretty damn clear.
>Are you really going to do this?
>This is degrading, dehumanizing, and... and...
>And a hell of a lot better than living the rest of your life as Vasily II's retarded body double
>Oh god...
>Just get it over with
>"...Please?"
>Under the hood, it comes out more like "MEESSHF", but the meaning of the word is the same.
>The skin not covered by a felt freak burns redder than a dying sun as you cringe internally
>Trying to suppress any thoughts of what you’re doing, you focus only on the sounds - or rather the absence of sound - made by the head
>"Please!"
>...
>..
>.
>"Please what?"
>Wha-?
>"Please what?"
>...You've got to be kidding me.
>Fucking- "Please-"
>Ugh. Your teeth grind like ancient gears in some kind of rusted golem, determined to carry out their given task despite the unwillingness of their dilapidated owner
>"Please /Master/-"
>You spit out the last word in a tone usually reserved for pedophiles, murderers, and IRS agents.
>"Please what?"
>FFFF
>"Please /Master/, let me out-"
>Your jaw locks up tighter with every word
>This is as close to actual hell as you can imagine
>A cruel laugh rings out inside your head
>As horrific as it is, a small part of you is grateful to be granted a modicum of attention
>Even if it is... this.
>"What are you?"
>"...Your pet."
>Shame floods you with the force of-
>"And what am I?"
>"My Master..."
>Ohgodwhyareyourespondingsofaststopit
>"And what are you?"
>"Your pet"
>AHFUCKSTOPITSTOPITSTOPIT
>"And who do you love?~"
>OHFORFUCKSAK-
>"M-my master?"
>"Like you mean it, pet."
>"I-I love my master"
>"One more time now. Put some heart into it."
>NONONONONONON-
>"I love my master~"
>"Mhmm. Good boy."
>The seal around your head releases, as the light burns your eyes and sound floods your ears.
>You're pretty much ready to die at this point.

>day 8, a Saturday
>now that this thing is on you, you've had to become much more withdrawn
>you rush in, complete your daily work, and then go home as soon as possible, usually taking some home with you to do alone
>or not really alone anymore
>you haven’t gone out to get more food since the event, and you're running out
>"Oh, it looks like you're almost out, pup."
>"What do you say we get some more food?"
>"Together~"
>stop acting like this is a date, if you could go alone, you would
>in fact, if you could get it off of your face forever, you would
>"How cold..."
>oh, right. you forgot he could do that
>"We barely know each other. It's only been eight days."
>you have ptsd-like flashbacks to just over a week ago, when this whole mess started
>"I'm sure once you get to know me, you won't mind being a good little pet"
>hearing these words coming out of "your" mouth still creeps you out, even now
>"It's Saturday after all, the perfect time to get out and do something!"
>"How about we skip the store for now and go to a nice restaurant?"
>no-
>"Great, it's settled then"
>"We've got an hour though, so why don't you freshen yourself up a bit? You kind of need it"
>you don’t need a pile of fabric and stitches to tell you what to do
>you try to pull off the head vigorously
>*sigh* "I thought we discussed this already. I'm not coming off, ever"
>"Together forever~"
>you ignore the head's teasing and continue to try to pry it off. key word: try
>all at once, you feel a tight squeeze everywhere around your face, mushing it in like play dough, before it returns to normal a second later
>the shock of the event sends you falling onto the floor, butt first
>"Oh come on, all I did was give a light tap"
>you call that light?!
>"But still, you sure are a stubborn little pup. Was three straight hours not enough for you that first time?"
>"Now come on, I have a cute little outfit picked out for you already~"
>you weigh the pros with the cons: you'll have to go out in public with your new, very possessive fursit head, and who knows what it will do, but you do need to eat...
>"I'll be good, I promise. As long as you're obedient, that is~"
>"Now, how about you take a little shower? You could do with relieving some of that... tension."
>you blush at the suggestion that this pile of felt is making
>"Not that kind of tension, you pervert."
>"That's what comes /after/ the date"
>oh gdi

>Alright, let's start with total isolation - no more friends, no family, not even a trip to the post office
>All you can hope for is an occasional food run, and even then the head will go out of its way to make you miserable
>Spouting off your secrets, interrupting you, yelling depraved things
>Secondly, it decides when you sleep.
>Even something as simple as laying down for a nap has been taken from you
>And guess who decides when and what you can eat?
>You'll have to beg for your meals like a good doggy.
>Oh, and there's still everyone's favorite - "SIT!"
>Even your own legs betray you to serve your self-proclaimed master
>Well, you need eyes to see, and guess who controls that?
>Anytime you need to see, you'll have to do something horrible and depraved to appease the head
>What it actually is depends on the mood the head is in, but trust me, you won't be able to show your face in public for a while after, even if it wasn't locked away forever
>Want to write a message? You'd better type exactly what the head says, or you'll be sealed in all night.
>Want to smell something? You can, but you'll need to clear it with the head first.
>Listening to music? Not if he doesn't like it.
>Planning on getting dressed?
>You don't need eyes for that, just follow the head's orders and hope it's not feeling too depraved today
>Want to go to the bathroom? Your options are to beg your master to let you see, or hold it in until he decides it's not funny anymore.
>And don't think you can sleep on that bed anymore. Pets sleep on the floor or in a cage.
>"Hell"? That's some harsh language. The head might just have to punish you with a night full of lewd thoughts and constant taunting.
>Or he could just make you clamp your mouth shut.
>But, if you’re a good puppy and you admit] what a disgusting pervert you are, he might just consider letting you speak again.
>Or not.
>He's kind of a dick like that.
>All you had to do is admit that you're a slutty little pup, but alas, you decided to talk back to the head.
>Such a shame, now you're laying on the floor "your" tongue hanging out, barking and whining against your will
>Hopefully the neighbors don't hear the animal noises and come to check the area out.
>Or maybe you hope they will. A freak like you would probably like that right?
>Anyway, the head seems to have grown bored of making you act like an oversized dog and is settling for slamming your eye holes shut
>leaving you to stumble blindly about as it laughs in your ears.
>It actually is pretty funny,
>Satisfied that it's debased you in every way possible, taking your job, your free will, even your ability to speak, it gives a smug smile to no one in particular.
>Every time you look into the mirror, you see the head - your own creation - grinning seductively back at you, eying you like a piece of meat
>It's degrading just to look at your own reflection, and after seeing some of the "cute" outfits it's picked out for you, you'd rather just stay ignorant.
>You can't even dress yourself anymore, being reduced to suppliant pining just to be allowed socks of your own choosing.
>All the while it torments you, reminding you that none of this would have happened if you hadn't created it
>Reminding you that this is all your fault
>Insisting that you love it all, no matter how many times you try to fight back
>It’s done everything short of making you eat dog food to degrade you, and it has no intention of stopping the torment any time soon
>The last statement is only mostly true - although it thankfully hasn't decided to resort to replacing your diet with dog food - and you were forced to thank it, many times - you are now required to eat out of a dog dish
>Bad pets don't get plates apparently
>And you have been a very bad pet. Trying to escape, talking back, and resisting punishment....
>It's almost like you want to get penalized.
>At least, that's what the head thinks.
>It constantly tells you that you love the punishments, that you know resisting is pointless and you only do it because your desperate to see what horrible humiliating torture your master has planned next
>Trying to argue is useless, no matter how much strength you amount or will you muster, the head is simply too strong
>Overpowered by a plush animal head - and one you made yourself
>The shame from your own creation turning on you burns almost as much as begging to be fed or being forced to bark in public
>The barking has become a favorite crowd pleaser for the head - find a crowded enough restaurant, grocery, bank, what have you, and give everyone a show
>Feeling your face warm as a blush spreads across your body only encourages it - you must really be enjoying it after all!
>Day in and day out, you’re subjected to this harassment
>The head, for its part, seems to have abandoned its original plan of making you an obedient pet, and is enjoying watching you squirm and writhe beneath it
>And squirm you do, as you feel more and more of yourself start to relent to its demands, your knees more eagerly relenting when he commands you to sit, your mouth watering as you beg for whatever he decides is your meal
>And most of your old cloths being replaced by the aforementioned "cute" selections he prefers
>Everything, from your wardrobe to your own body, has betrayed you
>Your possessions, your friends, that lady at the bank who now refers to you as "the creepy dog guy", all turned against you.
>Not even a mirror will return your mournful gaze, showing only the twisted smirk of the head.

>Yet another insipid demand, the head insists that it be allowed to dress you
>At first it seemed to get off on telling you what to wear, but as of late it's gotten a bit... ambitious.
>It's not like you have much choice in the matter, your options are obey it's commands or learn brail
>"There is no way in hell I'-"
>"It wasn't a request."
>Even with the eye holes clamped shut, you're still very much aware that this is not your normal attire
>For one, your pants are significantly shorter than usual
>For another, it's a damn skirt
>This is just sick.
>Your eyes are allowed to peak at the mirror just long enough to get a look at yourself
>And it's... one hell of a look
>Everything about your current... lets say attire, looks like it was stolen from the overflow bin in the women's section of K-Mart
>From your bright pink top to your uncomfortably short skirt, your wardrobe has been hijacked
>Even your normal shoes and socks have been replaced with feminine counterparts
>You look like Ed Wood at AnthroCon.
>Oh, and your dick is in a small cage.
>That's not an exaggeration or a metaphor.
>There is literally what can only be described as a pint-sized lobster crate on your dong.
>"Sorry pet, there wasn't anything smaller"
>...
>Jackass.
>Apparently this was all obtained during a shopping trip at 4 in the morning when you were under the impression you were buying food
>Actual food, not the trash it's been cramming down your throat.
 >It's not like you enjoyed having to do your, uh, stress relief with this godforsaken thing hurling insults at you, but now you can't even do that.
>And then there's... this outfit.
>You'd almost be hot were it not for the evil talking toy head barking orders at you from inside your mind.
>Ya know.
>That little issue.
>Which brings us back to the current issue-
>"Come on pet. If you're going to act like a bitch, you should dress like one too"
>Trying to punch out a faux animal head with ambiguously psychic powers may have been a bad idea
>"If you didn't love being punished so much, we'd never have to be in this embarrassing situation"
>"Besides, you look adorable like this"
>You look like a hooker.
>A furry hooker.
>With unusually masculine legs
>And alas, you won't be allowed the use of your nasal passages or any words that aren't "Woof!" until you get your nails painted
>Which would be easier to do if you could see.
>"Not until you say it"
>The only thing you want to say is "bite me", but there's a 50/50 chance it might actually try
>"You know you want to~"
>You want to say it only slightly more than you want to shove your face on an automated cheese grater
>For fucks sake
>This is gonna hurt
>"Thank you for my pretty new clothes Master"
>The urge to punctuate that with "You cocksucking asshole" is strong
>"Good girl~"
>...
>Jackass.
>With your vision returned to you, you realize it's exactly as you had feared - you look goddamn absurd.
>The visible bulge in your skirt caused by the METAL CAGE OF SUFFERING on your Johnson isn't helping
>Jesus Christ, it's like some depraved teenager's sick fantasy
>"Now why don't we go for a little walk in the park?"
>OOOkay fuck this, show's over
>You're ready to send this stupid damn outfit back to the Rocky Horror casting department and get this thing of-
>"Bad girl!"
>Your body crashed to the ground before you could even get a finger down the band of your skirt
>You forgot he could do that.
>Crap.
>"They'll be time for that later. It's not like you can do anything down there anyway."
>"Be good and I might give you the key."
>You know where it's going with this shit
>"Keep being naughty and I might forget where /WE/ hid it."
>Yep.
>It put emphasis on "we" as if to imply you were a consenting party in this madness
>"Although I'm sure a freak like you would love a chance to stay pent-up forever."
>"Now hurry up and get your nails done. We're going to have lots of fun together~"
>For once, you're actually happy that this bastard boisterous ball stole your face
>Can't put make-up on polyester.
>Yay?
>No.
>No yay.
>Yay is fucking dead.
>His cousin Kill Me Please from the temp office is filling in for him
>Indefinitely.
>As your dragged to your feet, your now painted nails glistening just enough to where you can't quite ignore them, you feel the cage clamping your joystick down pressing against your area of interest in the perfect manner to be abso-fucking-lutely awful
>Oh, and it clinks when you walk.
>That's right, your groin is playing a jaunty little tune as you walk
>Apparently one of the clamps is a little floppy.
>Nothing else down there is.
>Mr. Yay has been found dead.
>The dick cage did it.
>And you no longer can.
>"Come along pet. It's time for walkies~"
>Why did you have to make this thing?
>Why did you make it so lewd?
>Why did you even have to take up sewing?
>You should have been a baker.
>What's the worst an evil cake could hav-
>Nope.
>Let's not think about that too hard.
>...
>..
>.
>...So much frosting...
>In... places
>...Bad places
>*shudder*
>As you shamefully trot out the door, forced forward by the head cutting off your legs every time you try to stall, you become keenly aware of just how many people are walking
>It's a bright, sunny summer’s day
>Kids are laughing, couples are holding hands, people are walking about...
>"And they're about to be treated to one hell of a show. Get ready pet~"
>Oh god now what?
>"WOOFWOOFWOOFBARKWOOF"
>FUCKING-
>Never have so many heads whipped around so fast.
>A small seismic distortion occurred
>And your face burned red
>And your creation giggled hysterically
>And your dong went "cling!"
>And you've just been blinded, unable to see the way back to your door until the head has shown you off
>And Mr. Kill Me Please was promoted to CFO

>suit head decides to play a game
>you wake up one morning and you can't feel your head inside the suit head at all
>instead your nerves have been routed to the suit head
>your ear is folded funny against the pillow
>you touch the side of the suit head and it feels like you're touching yourself on the cheek, even though it's obviously fake
>you're perturbed but also very aroused

>Day 13
>How did it come to this?
>Two weeks ago you were a rising star, an outgoing man of action, a home-town hero
>And now you're... you're
>"You're so cute when you pout like that."
>Now you're sleeping at the foot of your own bed, sealed inside your own home, being held hostage by your own costume
>How is this even possible?
>Divine retribution? Evil spirits? Did you flip off a witch doctor in traffic?
>As you gaze down vacantly at your feet, staring listlessly through the eyeholes you cut out by hand and sewed with love, you can't help but feel betrayed
>After all, this /thing/ is supposed to be your property
>Your creation
>Hath not the furfag the power to make one fursuit unto honor and another unto dishonor?
>"No."
>Shut up.
>This thing was supposed to be for fun.
>Show up to those stupid conventions, be a spaz for a few days, meet some people, then go back to your normal life
>Maybe even meet a girl
>Or at least something that could pass for a girl in a pinch.
>But instead you got...
>"Aww, is my precious little pup daydreaming about his master?"
>This thing.
>"That's a good first step, even if you are still a bit willful for my taste."
>"Don't worry though, we'll get the rest of those naughty thoughts beat in line soon enough~"
>How could it have all gone so wrong so fast?
>Why did it insist on tormenting you?
>What did it gain from taking your life, your face, your identity?
>Who would ever dare to inflict this abhorrent terror on-
>"Do you really want to know?"
>...
>"Really, truly want to know?"
>Yes.
>"I'm doing it all for you."
>What-
>"You made me this way. I could have been anything your little heart desires - friend, companion..."
>"... but instead you made me something much better."
>What the fuck
>"You made me your master."
>What the actual fuck.
>"I'm not evil. I'm not a monster."
>I disagree.
>"I'm just giving you what you always wanted. Even if you didn't know how bad you did."
>The only thing bad here is this dialog.
>"Keep the sarcasm going, pet. If building up walls of false confidence and wit is what it takes to keep you sane, by all means, keep going. It'll just make breaking you down all the more entertaining."
>Go fuck yours-
>"You can lie to me. You can lie to the world. But you can't lie to yourself. You wanted this."
>"Why else would you have been allowed to make something as perfect as me to own you?"

>You're lying on the bed
>Day 2
>tired of trying to pry it off, you lay on the bed in defeat
>"I knew you'd come to love me~"
>you're so frustrated, it feels like tears are going to stream down your face
>"Hey now, pet-"
>you tell it not to call you that
>"-pup, it's not all bad. If you decide to be good, I can do some stuff like this too"
>you try to ask it what it means but as you begin to ask you feel a wave of relaxation wash over you
>it's not so strong that you are powerless, but the urge to give in to it is strong
>"Just lean into it, pet~"
>you don't even feel like correcting it anymore
>and then comes the whispering
>its voice normally deep and intimidating but now it's soft and soothing
>all the things it talks about are so soothing
>"It's okay, pup. Just relax into it..."
>"Forget all your worries... Your job, your friends, your life... Just forget about all of that."
>"Just listen to my voice. It and only it. Imagine my muzzle moving, forming the words... The only thing in the world right now is me."
>"You're getting very sleepy. Your eyes are slowly closing."
>The head takes a couple deep breaths
>Slowly, but surely, the suggestions seep into your mind, and your eyes slowly begin to slide closed
>Everything starts to fade to black
>Your eyes open, but you only see black
>You try to say something, but there's no response
>What just happened?
>The last thing you remember is a calm, deep voice-
>The head
>The head freaking hypnotized you
>"Mmnn... Good morning, pup~"
>you tell him not to call you pup
>"Back at full energy so soon? You were only out for a few hours."
>Shut u-
>"Quiet."
>...
>It just silenced you
>The head that you made, with your own time, money, and effort, just silenced you
>Like you were some kind of puppy
>"But you are. You're an adorable little pup~ Just a bit too willful."
>What the hell did it do to you while you were out?
>" 'Hell? ' Such language! Bad dog!"
>you whimper
>you... whimpered
>oh god
>"If I'm going to have you become a good pet, I need to teach you a few commands, right?"
>"Now, speak!"
>BARK!
>it did not
>just make you
>bark
>BARK!
>"Such and obedient little pet~"
>"Good boy!"
>Your head is spinning out of embarrassment, shame, and fear
>you go to hold it but you only feel fur
>"Oh, we're going to have so much fun together, pup."
>Don't call me-
>"Just you, and me. Forever."
>This is it. This is your life now.

>Day... whatever
>Who the hell cares anymore?
>The morning light is streaming through the window onto what used to be your face
>The head is well rested, it's faux eyes glistening with the morning sun, it's exaggerated features highlighted by the radiant glow
>You were woken up five times by demands to bark and run outside. In the middle of the night.
>Glancing up to your mirror, you see only the relaxed smirk of your captor, a sharp contrast to your own dismal scowl
>You can almost feel it eyeing your body, sizing you up for the introduction to it's next realm of perversion
>This is not a good time to have morning wood
>"Something the matter pet? See something you like?"
>It's lids droop at tha- oh god
>It's giving you bedroom eyes
>Why is it giving you bedroom eyes?
>Your/it's head swings back in an exaggerated yawn, forcing you to catch yourself from behind, spreading your legs slightly in the process
>"Mmm. Someone's happy to see me~"
>Actually, it's a normal bodily function caused by lowered heart rate and periods of muscular rel-
>"Shut up and enjoy the show."
>It's drooling maw opens wide, showing too many teeth that are way too sharp to be felt and... and...
>And it has a tongue
>How is that ev-
>"You made me, pervert. Don't act like you don't know."
>I seriously have no idea how that would even be possible.
>Sliding its disproportionally long tongue around the faux face, it - and by proxy, you - never break eye contact with its raunchy reflection
>"Ready to admit you're loving this yet pup?"
>Really, like how would that even work? Like is there actual, like, body parts and glands in there or-
>Jerking your neck curtly back to attention, your waning gaze is forced to stare at your involuntary display once again
>Strings of drool drip down from the madly grinning maw, slicking your chest
>"Having trouble staying focused? Maybe it has something to do with that bulge I've given you..."
>It's a biological reaction you as-*BARK*
>MTHERFUCKF
>"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. "
>"Now clean up this mess. I won't have my property looking like used garbage."
>"At least not until I'm finished entertaining myself."
>One last glance at your reflection - as much as it can still be called yours anyway - is no more pleasant than any of the others
>In the process of displaying its uncomfortably suggestive oratory skills, the tyrannical topper managed to slobber all over its face
>And your chest
>And your legs
>And it leaked like a fucking faucet
>You could shower with steel wool and silver nitrate, but you doubt you'll ever feel clean again
>"Oh, and pet?"
>"Don't drop the soap~"

>Day 45
>It's a nice enough day, all things considered
>You got your work done early, got a shower in, an-
>"Oh... oh my..."
>Nope
>Disregard that
>Shit day
>"You're /much/ more fun than I thought pet~"
>Awful day
>"So, what would you like the most,"
>Terrible day
>"gazing up at your adoring Master while you drag your tongue over his paws..."
>FUCKING AWFUL DAY
>"...or feeling your body pinned under his while you beg for more?"
>FUCK IT, THE WHOLE DECADE IS SHIT
>"I always knew you loved this deep down. It just took a little more work than expected to wretch it out of you."
>MAKE THAT CENTURY
>"Oh, stop acting bashful. I've seen EVERYTHING now~"
>MELLINIUM.
>I don't know what you-
>"Kissing my paws? You know I don't even have... well... not yet anyway."
>What the hell is that supposed to mean?
>"Nothing you need to worry about, my precocious perverted pup."
>"Go lay down. We'll have plenty of time to play when I finish explor- Oh my..."
>AEON. THE ENTIRE AEON IS TOTAL FUCKING SHIT
>"You really /DO/ love me!"
>NONOONONONNNNNONONNONON
>"Well, don't worry. We'll be together forever."
>FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFCUK
>"It's almost like someone went in and introduced all this wonderful information after the fact..."
>FUCKINGRETCONS
>"Ah, such a good time we'll have, as soon as I can remember what happened to the lobster crate..."
>GALACTIC YEAR. NUKE THE ENTIRE GALATIC YEAR.

>Only a few more lines, then you're done for the day
>You've been trying to get through this paperwork for what feels like hours, but at least you’re almost-
>"You seem bored, pet."
>...Done
>Shit.
>You do your best to shove your unwanted accomplice away, with precious little success.
>At least he's kind enough - or bored enough - to relent long enough for you to finish working
>Even without him here, the tedious work is hard.
>Hard and thick...
>Throb-
>What?
>Whatever, you've got to keep pounding away
>Pounding hard, for hours and hours.
>So much-
>Okay, that definitely was not about typing.
>You've gotten to the point where you don't even have to question what would be causing this torment
>The soft sound of sophomoric snickering does that for you
>Oh yeah, it does sooo much for you~
>AHSTOPIT
>You try to press on, but the heat rising through your body is impossible to ignore
>A warmth that radiates from your breast, spreading in waves until your entire body is flushed red
>"What's wrong now? Can't keep your mind off me long enough to finish menial busywork?"
>That's bullshit and you know it!
>There's no way in hell I'd ever even consider letting you have your way with me!
>Letting you tell me what to do, feeling you side across my body...
>Being your pet...
>Unng-
>AHFUCKSTOPTHAT
>"Do you really want me to stop?"
>You try to answer, but your jaw is held in place
>With every spasm of your facial muscles, you feel your mind assaulted with depraved fantasies of every kind
>Long slimy tongues, tight jingling collars, warm soft paws, losing control, being forced to do all sorts of sick things...
>It's like the head is working off someone's f-list or something
>That would be weird
>You can't even think without being bombarded with the inexorable tide of depravity
>And the worst part is, you're starting to enjoy it
>You can feel your senses inflamed, your lungs opening up, your skin becoming far more sensitive, even your hearing seems amplified
>All the better to take in the head's mocking
>"What's wrong, toy? Is it really so hard to admit?"
>You feel like your senses are on fire, every inch of your body wrapped in warped waves of pleasure
>He's doing this, you're sure of it
>You're well past the point of full-mast, but you can't get off
>You're fairly certain he's behind that too
>"Come on now little one..."
>You throw yourself onto the floor, spazaming wildly, grinding yourself against anything you can find
>"Just tell me the truth now. Like a good pet~"
>The emphasis on the word "pet" is almost too much
>You feel like you're going to black out, but you're kept stable by the felt freak's corrupt influence
>You can't even process information any more, understanding coming only in the form of endless bursts of pleasure and denial in alternating pumps
>writing with pleasure and enjoying it, you try to reach up to your face, the epicenter of your endless one-man orgy
>you can only touch the head's, big and oversized, hands burning with electric pulses of pleasure as you trace across the synthetic fur
>You try to grab at it, desperate to stop the madness, or at least feel your own face in the flurry of eclectic energy, but the head is not having any of it
>"Bad pup! No touching!"
>You can give only a pained, pleading whimper in response
>"Saaaay it."
>Panting. You've actually been reduced to panting, just to regain your breath
>"Saaay iiit~"
>His sing-song tone only accentuating his indifference to your need as you hump frantically into a pillow, trying with all of your remaining strength and determination to relive your aching member and end this madness
>"That won't woooork~"
>JESUS CHRIST STOP SINGTALKING
>"NooooooOOo~"
>"You know what I want to hear, pup."
>"It's not like you have any dignity left to defend. Unlike that poor pillow."
>Argh- F-fine! You'll do anything to make this stop!
>"Good boy. Now who's your Master?"
>"Y-you are! "
>"And who do you love?"
>It's nearly impossible to form words at this point, but you power through the perverse pile driver being pushed into your psyche
>"I-I love my master!"
>"Good boy."
>With that, the insatiable tide relents, and your spastic flailing finally stops, much to your relief
>And that poor pillow's.
>The good news is, you're finally free of the stranglehold of seductive sedation
>The bad news is, you never asked to have the psychic stranglehold on your stiffy released
>"Shame really. I thought I had a pet that could control himself better."
>Y-you basNNGH
>Pawing hopelessly at your unresponsive tool, you find yourself unable to do anything, save pound with despair
>This is the saddest fap session known to man
>"We've spent so much time together, but have we ever gotten to know one another?"
>Oh god, now what?
>"Just a few quick questions, that's all. A little bonding."
>FFfffu-fine
>Your aching unit refuses to allow itself to be subjected to this torment for even a moment longer
>"Good to hear. First of all, how do you feel about your master?"
>WEJUSTDI- uGHhgh
>"Sorry, could you repeat that for me?"
>I-I love my mastar-ughhh H-he's sooo good to mheee
>"Mm. Might want to work on your enunciation."
>"You're stuttering a bit. It's improper."
>"Next question. How much do you love being my pet?"
>Ohgodthisisfuckingstupiiiiiiiiiidick
>Clenching your teeth, in equal parts shame and pain from the worst case of blueballs known to man, you try to spit out something bordering on an acceptable answer
>I just looove being your property maste-NGH- I-it's the best fe-EE-ling in the wo..rld
>This is horrible
>"This is adorable~"
>"Alright, last question."
>Oh god
>"What would you like me to do to you?"
>You assume "get the fuck off" isn't a valid answer
>A sudden reprise of the SmutStorm confirms that assumption.
>"Come on now... just give me a nice answer. That's all I'm asking. Reasonable?"
>Ohgodfuckthis
>"I-I wanna be your bitch! Please make me yours, I want you to use me like a toy, do wha-NGF-whatever you want to me, j-jusstngggh please let me be your subby little slut!"
>OHGODWHYDIDTHATMAKEYOURDICKTWITCH
>YOUARENOTENJOYINGTHIS
>STOPENJOYINGTHIS
>"Enjoying this?"
>UHNG
>"That'd be a yes."
>"Permission to finish granted."
>You've never seen a flood dam explode, but you've now got a rough idea of what it'd look like
>The entire time you spent finishing the head's job, which wasn't nearly as long as it felt, you could feel him glaring into your mind, grinning madly at his handiwork
>"I hope you didn't think I'd let you ignore this mess."
>Between your dong induced seizure and the final product, the room is thoroughly trashed.
>It'll take all day to clean this up
>"And do it on all fours. Like a good puppy."
>You give a defeated bark as you slowly raise yourself off the ground, crawling sluggishly as you attempt to salvage the room
>"Such a good little pet~"

>Day X + 5
>You'd given up on counting some time ago
>By this point, it's simply more hassle than it's worth
>Your Massss-NOPE. The head is sitting snugly just above your shoulders, as usual awake and ready for another day well before you are
>"Gooood morning my favorite little pet."
>It's obnoxiously cheery demeanor does little to obscure the ocean of depraved lust slowly bubbling just beneath the surface
>You're convinced it only acts like that because it's realized how annoying it is.
>It glances over to the bedside mirror, jerking your neck along with it
>"Mmm... Just look at us, pet. So perfect together~"
>You try your best to scoff and look away, but neither comes to fruition
>He simply holds you in that spot, forced to stare into his face
>Which is still your face, regardless of what he says
>IT
>Not a he, it is an IT.
>Stop humanizing the damn thing, you tell yourself.
>Yourself tells you to fuck off, it's 5AM.
>"Mm? Something the matter?"
>"Feeling a bit anthrocentric today?"
>What the hell even is that wor-
>"Oh believe me, I am very much alive. Would you like a demonstration?"
>No not reall- BARK
>Shit.
>Forgot it could do that.
>You're jerked back to attention roughly, the force around your neck and head pulling you to full bear
>Glaring into the mirror, you have several unwanted flashbacks to the last time you were subjected to a similar torment
>You can still feel the drool dripping down your bare chest, no matter how hard you scrub
>And you've scrubbed that chest pretty hard, mostly because it insists on taunting you any time you attempt to wash anything below your waste for more than a few seconds
>It's fake eyes stare into yours, looking directly into them as its lids slowly slack, a dusky grin forming across its equally simulated face
>You blush hard just from the look it's giving you
>The stare you're getting right now would be enough to make a eunuch sweat
>It bites its lip a bit, the long slimy tongue that had previously been the source of your torment flicking out to lick it's synthetic lips, jaw muscles slowly tensing and loosing as it drags its way past, slicking the drooling chops with each audible pass
>whyboner.jpg
>Oh god, just how much damage has this thing done to you?
>Maybe if you lean forward a bi-
>Suddenly it jerks back as it throws itself into a drawn-out yawn, felt jaws opening wide as it draws its face into a scrunched up cowl
>You are also, unfortunately for you, put fairly well off-balance by the sudden rocking
>As you fall back, you instinctively reach back to catch yourself, body jerking up a bit as it tries to compensate for your neck's sudden repositioning
>Which has the slightly inconvenient side effect of pushing your previously obscured bulge directly into the head's line of sight as it recovers from its whip-lash inducing yawn
>Well.
>"Well~"
>"Someone enjoyed the show. Is it really that easy to get you excited?"
>You scramble forward covering yourself, but it's too late.
>It's never going to let you forget this.
>Its small satisfied smirk quickly splits into a maddened grin, bisecting its stitched together face with quickness and girth that would split a lesser mask in two.
>"Do you really enjoy watching me that much?"
>N-
>"Be honest now. You know what happens to naughty pets~"
>…
>M-maybe a little…
>You sit there covering yourself in shame, waiting for whatever next cruel taunt he throws at you, but surprisingly it never comes
>Instead, you look up only to see his mad grin has returned in full force, almost frightening were it not so blatantly intended to be exaggerated
>"Well then..."
>"You've been a good boy lately... Maybe if you get up on time for once, I'll give you a better look."
>It punctuates the words by withdrawing its tongue once again, letting it lick its way across the cloth and polyester cheek as it stares deeply into and well beyond your eyes
>"A much better look~"
>"But as for now, perhaps you can deal with your... friend later."
>He says, eyes returning to the poorly hid lump before flicking back up to yours
>"I want the work done early. We're going shopping together tonight~"

>Day X+6
>As of 5 minutes ago, the head had decided to make good on its promise to give you a better look
>*mirror_impact.mp4*
>A much better look
>As of right now, your face is sandwiched between the mirror and an unseen force pushing you closer to the reflection of the psychotic strings
>"Now give us a kiiiissss~"
>This is excessive!
>"This is adorable."
>You're being a bit of a dick mat-
>Your head is pushed closer, the faux nose of the mask scrunching up
>That's gotta hurt.
>"Cloth isn't exactly sensitive by any means. Although watching you try to struggle always makes me feel warmer."
>He punctuates his point by lowering his ears, then flicking them around at angles that would surely be at least uncomfortable to a real animal
>"Now kiss."
>Groaning in a chimerical burst of annoyance and disgust, you pucker your lips and offer as good a peck you can through the muzzle of the head to its reflection
>"I always knew you loved me~"
>Is there a reason you keep saying that?
>"Because it's true. All good pets love their masters. And you're learning to be a very good boy."
>Your mother sucks cocks in hell.
>"Maybe a bit mouthy..."
>The force shoving you into the doppelganger's face is suddenly released as quickly as it manifested, unbalancing you once full control over your body is returned
>"But don't worry. We've got all the time in the world together. And I've got soooo many wonderful toys for you to try."
>He winks mischievously at you, grinning slightly as he feels you start to tense up inside him
>"Getting flustered already? Eager to start the new training? My, you are a good boy, aren't you?"
>Ohshitwhy

>Day -1
>It's finally done
>It took far longer than it should have, but the first piece of your shiny new fursuit is hot off the rack and ready to go
>Aside from a few more pokes and cuts than you would've liked while teaching yourself to sew, it turned out damn near perfect
>Just gotta roll up to the con in this thing, and you'll be the main attraction
>Pictures, free art, fluffy butt, everything
>Okay, that may be a bit ambitious, but still, it looks freakin' awsome
>Dat fluffy butt doe
>For some reason, the idea of getting personal with one of those girls-who-are-totally-not-dudes at those  cons gets you going more than it should
>You've probably got some serious issues
>Fuck it, the dick gives the orders here.
>You sprint to the bathroom with speed generally associated with a child support bill coming to the West End
>The process is fairly standard, save for the fact that you're wearing a severed dog's head while you're beatin' the meat.
>There's a joke about giving a dog a bone here, but you're too busy thinking about fluffy butts to bother with it
>Thank god you live alone. Anyone who saw you like this would probably be disgusted.
>And you've never been a fan of having your reputation ruined
>The miss-matched head just makes the whole process hotter, letting you revel in the degeneracy that much more
>Your mind briefly  wanders away from the probably-girls to the costume itself, thinking about it holding you down, calling you it's  favorite little slut, letting it take you~
>TOP FUCKIN UNF
>For a second you can almost feel it moving, hear it saying all the depraved things you'd been dreaming of
>"That's it pet. Cum for your master~"
>Hearing the pile of cloth barking orders and whispering perversions was enough to push you over the edge
>Wow, you've got some serious issues.
>And a serious mess.
>Shit, you enjoyed that waaay to much
>You stand up and glance over to the medicine cabin-AAAHGFFUCK
>You do a double take
>Triple take
>It winked.
>The thing just....
>Wait what?
>That's ridiculous. It's a damn costume for godsakes.
>Not even a particularly spectacular one.
>Still, you avoid glancing back to the mirror until after you've taken it off and put it well out of the reflective line of sight
>You've got a bad feeling in your gut that you can't quite shake
>The stitched in grin on the hood seems...
>Wider than you remember making it
>Fuck it, now you're spooked, exhausted, and you smell like dick.
>You need sleep.
>Preferably away from your new creation
>Something about that wink which you still insist never happened cut you to the core.
>I'm sure it'll all balance out in the morning
>As you sleep comfortably, your feel warmth that wasn't there before
>Almost alive
>"Good morning pet~"

>The head staying silent for some time, making you wonder if you had only imangined it in the first place
>Too afraid to even attempt to take it off in case of repercussion
>After 3 days of silence, you finally decide to take it off
>It comes off easily...too easily.
>For the next hour or so you pace back and forth, the head sitting on your desk, mocking you with it's blank eyes
>You think to yourself, "Is this what it wants? Should I be questioning my own sanity right now?"
>with a huff, you sit down in front of the head, gingerly touching the faux fur, contemplating your journey to this point
>It's voice echoes in your mind, "You enjoy this, more than you know." "Come now, you aren't escaping me that easily."
>How can you give up something like this now, after so long?
>finding your way down to the neck, you slowly lift the head with your fingers, examining the inside lining
>It's not like it's uncomfortable or anything...which is...strange to say the least.
>Holding it in your hands, you stare at it's lifeless eyes, your heartbeat suddenly racing
>You slowly turn it around and bow your head...this is your life now. There is nothing else.
>As it slides back into place, you can feel it move, a massive grin forming on its face
>"Good boy."