Vesker 3, Patreon drabble

Vesker feels the pulses speed up for what felt like the hundreth time tonight. They'd strapped him up to this table earlier, leaving him barely able to budge by the time the cuffs were locked over his ankles and his legs were pulled open as wide as they could get them.

He had flushed dark in embarrassment when they leaned in to start prepping his hole- wetting it generously inside and out- hands testing his tightly contained cock and balls in the leather, making sure the ring was snug at the base.

The wolves were never unkind to him. That's what drove him the most mad. They'd croon at him like he was a wild animal or, worse, seemed affectionately concerned whenever he lashed out or struggled.

They treated him almost like a victim or something! And acted like they were helping him while stuffing him full or restraining him for his day's "treatment."

Good boy. There's a smart pup. Isn't that nice? We're going to take such good care of you!

Vesker's eyes roll up as an intense orgasm overtakes his senses. He feels it deep inside- the frustration only building as it fails to subside for a full minute. His tensing and struggling easily stifled in place by the dozens of straps and buckles keeping him in position. His arms tightly crossed by the straitjacket they'd fit on him when he arrived.

Vulnerable.

He tries to squirm. Anything at this point- to lessen the maddening heat and pressure coiled in his belly and balls.

Under the tight leather- he knows is a thick sound stuffed down his abused cock- electrodes gently stuck to his length- supplied with electrical pulses by the machine quietly humming somehere behind him. Where he knew their tons of equipment were monitoring and displaying every aspect of his body and behaviour.

The pulses also ran along the inside of the sound- and the fat plug a handsome wolf worked into him after they were done lubing him.

He'd patted his head and told him not to worry- everything would be alright soon. Hmmpph!!

He wanted to tell him to fuck right off! But they were careful to always keep him muzzled or gagged. When he arrived- he'd bitten one on the hand while they were transferring him out of the bounty hunter's restraints and into the facility's own gear.

He was punished for it, of course. Not only was he denied to speak, ever, but they decided he was in need of "emergency therapy" for being so "naughty"- and promptly strapped him up for his entry examination.

That was three days ago? He thinks. Maybe more?

It was difficult to say. There were times when they'd pull a blindfold over his eyes when transferring him to another therapy lab- hoping to discourage his struggling while he was pulled along by his collar and leash. And time didn't seem to exist on the rehab station either. Maybe as a way to disorient him.

It didn't work! He was defiant. Damn wolves. Think they own everything. They responded by cuffing him to a rolling table whenever they needed to switch rooms, gently chatising him for being a bad boy.

Mmph!
The pulses sped up- once again breaking his thoughts as he tries desperately to arch away from the overwhelming pleasure.

He hears a voice behind him, a click, and the lab's lights turn on. Before that, he was under what felt like spotlights- leaving the rest of the room cast in shadows, broken up by LED displays, lit-up inputs and the silhouettes of lab equipment.

It was Brew, a big grey wolf who worked at the rehab facility. He saw him often- and the big fellow smiles as he circles around him before checking the wires and electrodes attached between his legs.

Vesker narrows his eyes at him and squirms weakly in his binds.

"Now, now, aren't you having a good time?" He asks, voice full of rumble as he seems to adjust something on one of the dials below his table.

Suddenly, the pulses in his hole and in his cock change pattern- and- Mph, Vesker pinches his eyes shut. It felt as though he was being fucked by something huge- rings of electrical pulse moving from tip to base in slow but powerful waves.

He puffs a heavy, pleasured breath from his nose- drool stringing from his lolling tongue- curling around the fat rubber tube they slid down his throat. They'd used it as a way to administer doses of what he *knows* was mind-numbing aphrodisiac formulas.

Brew mentions it over a mouthpiece, actually. Seemingly relaying the most recent dose's success. Vesker found it annoying how they talked about his "treatment" like he wasn't even there! He didn't need treatment. Why were foxes who defied wolves considered maladjusted?

He glares at Brew, who finally takes notice and grins kindly at him.

"Good boy. Doing so well, huh? You like that?" His big hand rubs at Vesker's twitching thigh. The half-fox was struggling to keep it together- the pulsing between his legs was driving him mad. He relents- eyes rolling as he moans into his gag.

This seems to please Brew, who pats him over his ear.

"Clever boy. Another few hours on the stim-therapy before I can give you to the other handler."

He glances down to Vesker's tight balls and, transferring his datapad to his other hand, reaches out to give them a hard squeeze.

Vesker strains on the table and Brew smirks.

"Getting pretty full there, huh? I'll make a note to have them let you release later, *if* you're good."

He seems to do so, tapping something into his PDA before tucking it into his pocket. He takes a minute to tighten a few of the straps at Vesker's side before retreating once more.

The lights flick off again, except for the ones on the cameras, and the fox is left to endure.