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Sending a Message

for Cormac

by Draconicon

Warfare was overrated. Costing too much meaningful resources and depleting AI-driven machines to the point of having to rely on bios, it tended to be a method of last resort. Besides, actual war, deadly war, disrupted the economies of countries, companies, and corporations, and tended to be a double-edged sword at the best of times. Far more effective to send a message in the form of a single person and a single isolated event to the offender from the offendee.

Of course, the problem of sending one agent, even a very good one, was that they were outnumbered, and the message could very easily be returned to sender.

Cormac knew that he was in a situation just like that the moment that he regained consciousness. The Sirius dog-morph refused to open his eyes immediately, though if his captors were any good they already knew he was awake. Still, he strained the limits of credulity for as long as he could, gathering information from his senses and his implants. His ears almost twitched before he stilled them, feeding him the sound of humming electronics and the slight crackle-hiss of an active speaker, something to channel sound to another chamber. Wires, too, mostly under him. His nostrils flared, the first sign that he was awake - visually, at least - and he smelled hot electricity, something running with more power than usual, and that meant -

SHOOM!

Bindings. He hadn't been tied down, but now he was restrained by hard-light emitters. He opened his eyes, looking down at the flowing blue lines that covered his neck, his wrists, his waist, and his ankles. Everything was sealed down, locked against the metal table beneath him.

No getting out of that, so he didn't try. Instead, he lifted his head to the ceiling. The Malamute-patterned dog-morph could just make out his reflection against the polished chrome ceiling. His gear had already been stripped away, leaving him without any coverings or modesty. There was nothing to hide his fur or anything else from view. His sheath hung between his legs, his nanite-enhanced muscles shown off to a stark degree. Here and there, little pieces of more mechanical implants could be seen through the faux-fur that covered them but not quite well enough. The problem of budget repair jobs, he supposed; companies cut corners wherever they could.

Conducting the obligatory bindings test and finding his strength wanting against the hard-light emplacements, Cormac took another deep breath. He let it out slowly, tasting it. No drugs on the air just yet, nothing that would be affecting his mind or body. At least, nothing that he was breathing in, and nothing that might have left a taste in his mouth if it had been injected or forced down his throat while he was unconscious.

He tilted his head back further, looking at the intercom that he could just barely see in the corner of the room. Smaller than a housefly, it was just barely out of place enough on the metallic wall for him to see, and his ears confirmed its location as it clicked softly.

"Looks like you caught me." Cormac tilted his head as much as his bindings would permit. "Any reason I'm still alive?"

"The obvious, of course. You were caught infiltrating our labs. Certain proprietary technologies were seized, and we want to know why."

"Good luck figuring that one out..."

"We will not need luck."

Cormac knew they would. For all that the job was a budget affair, he knew that the most that they'd be able to figure out was who had sent him. Just as he had been sent to claim some equipment and sabotage the rest, he had been outfitted with the equipment that his employer made. This particular Biotech concern - Hazen Industries - would be able to narrow down his own employer with the gear that they'd taken off him. The various patents and filings would make it clear just who had sent him, who wanted to send a message by taking some gear off their hands.

If he was lucky, Hazen Industries would take the hit, beat the crap out of him, and send him back to his employers as a warning not to try it again. Some other idiot would be outfitted with better gear to try again, or the company would take the minor loss and not push a second time. Either way, it would mean that his job was over.

But that was if he was lucky. Considering that they were putting in the effort and investment of using a bondage table like this, he had a pretty good feeling that they weren't feeling that generous.

"We will give you one chance. Name your employer, your mission, and the motivations behind it."

"..."

"They must be paying you very much."

"I have standards. And a reputation."

"Yes. Yes. Cormac. The dog-morph that is a very good dog indeed."

He didn't rise to the bait. Most altered-humans that came from the Dog-Star had long-since left their humanoid forms behind. It was easier to work with a form that was better suited to the days and difficulties that the system offered for those living there. It was easier to take it as a joke these days than as an insult, though Cormac refused to laugh and give his captors the satisfaction.

Time passed, and the intercom didn't buzz again. That would mean that the interrogator would be on his way, and he would have to be ready for that. He took a few more deep breaths, steadying his heart.

The door opened, and through it stepped a rather large tiger. More imposing than the usual feline, the interrogator had the body of someone used to breaking things. His shoulders made his head look small in comparison, though his build went down like a cinder block from top to bottom, thick and wide. His hands were tucked into the pockets of a leather jacket, and he had an e-cigarette clenched between his teeth.

"Well...Cormac, is it?" the feline said, pulling his cigarette free. "I guess it's time to see how long it'll take to break you."

"..."

"Strong and silent, huh?"

"..."

"I'm glad that we understand each other. See, I believe in being open with my subjects, so I'm going to tell you how this is going to go," the tiger said, walking around the table to the far wall. He tapped a panel, and it turned, spinning around to reveal no fewer than six syringes, two nanite dispensing wands, and a series of other medical supplies. "You are going to be tortured."

"..."

"I'm sure that my employers would prefer the terms 'advanced interrogation techniques,' but let's not kid ourselves. This is going to be torture, though it will likely be of a very different sort than you're used to."

"..."

"You understand that I will not be giving you any mercy, nor respect. The silence doesn't bother me, if you're curious. All it does is give me more room to talk."

"What is wrong with you?" he finally asked.

"I will be taking my time to break you down. Whether you give me information or not is immaterial. I'm sure that my employers would like some, but we both know that it's very unlikely that you're going to crack in that way."

"Are you going to -"

"Instead, I will just take my pleasure. Perhaps you may come to enjoy it. Perhaps not. I don't really care. In the end, you will be returned to some place that your employer will find you. They'll decide that."

The fact that the tiger was running roughshod over anything that Cormac said was oddly more worrying than anything else that had happened so far. He'd expected torture, expected that there would be a great deal of pain and suffering in his future. That was part of the penalty for being caught. This...

This was something different. The chilling disregard that the tiger had for the rules of war, regardless of who was fighting, just made it feel so...different. Almost like nothing mattered, that there was nothing that could be done to cut something short if it got too much.

"Ah, I see. I see it in your eyes," the tiger said, chuckling as he approached the table. "You're starting to understand."

"...What are you?"

"I am the interrogator. And you are the subject."

"I'm not going to -"

"You can say whatever you like. It is not whether you talk. It is whether I am done."

That, more than anything else, would have been the thing to break him. He was in the hands of a legitimate psychopath, he realized, and one that had been given complete and total permission to use him, break him, do whatever he wanted just for the sake of sending a message. Cormac opened his mouth -

And the tiger shoved a finger inside. The taste of fur and flesh against his tongue almost made him bite down, but the tiger had a way of pinning his tongue in place that meant that he would have bitten it off, too. The feline tilted his head side to side, looking down the Malamute's throat, then shook his head.

"Perhaps later."

Cormac barely had a chance to swallow and clear his throat before the tiger pressed a button on the side of the steel slab. The smell of electricity grew, that burning ozone smell, and the hard-light restraints shifted, pulling his legs further apart. His sac fell further between his legs, dangling down against his rump from its own weight, well past his taint.

As the hard-light emitters were moved, shifting the positions of his bindings, Cormac felt ever-more vulnerable. The overall sense of the room had changed from that of a simple interrogation and beating to something completely different. He was to be played with, not interrogated. There would be questions - there were always questions - but it was no longer a game between them, where he would hold back for as long as he could, hoping to be released before they lost patience and did something extremely painful. Instead, it had become a defined length of torment, where they would do whatever they wanted with him, and then, when they were done, he would be released...

But in what state was the question.

The tiger leaned over him, tapping the edge of one of the nanite applicators near the Malamute's sheath. He tsked-tsked under his breath.

"Sheaths. Certainly an efficient method of storing genitalia, but so...unsightly for another male to look at."

"You...took...this...job," Cormac said, almost having to force each word past his lips.

"Oh, yes. But that is to my benefit. I can remove it."

"...What?"

"I said...I can remove it."

The hum of the applicator filled the silence after the statement, and Cormac gasped as he felt the chill of a swarm of the little machines running from the wand to the end of his sheath. It was chilling, numbing, almost, but not quite enough to avoid the itching tingle as they went to work. The Malamute gasped, thrusting his hips up only to grunt as they slammed against the hard-light emitter pinning him down.

"Careful..."

There was no need to tell him that for his safety, but rather for the tiger's amusement. The feline smiled as the applicator continued to hum, the tingling going further and further down inside the Malamute's sheath. He gritted his teeth as it felt like some infernal feather leaving behind itching cream, dragging up and down his shaft, through the inside of his sheath, coating every square inch of flesh inside. He arched his back, thrust his hips, banging himself off the hard-light band again and again despite his best efforts to hold still.

He whipped his head down, trying to see what was happening to him, but the bindings kept him from seeing past them. So, he looked up -

"What...what are you..."

There was no response from the tiger, just a contented hum as he continued his 'work'. The constant hum of the applicator made it worse as he stared at the reflection, his eyes widening as he saw the sides of his sheath collapse, the usual support from within disappearing bit by bit. It was worse than the times that he had taken a cold shower and there had been a little shrinkage down there, worse by far than the times he had smuggled cryo-goods inside the little tube. This...this was the sight of something inside disappearing.

"Bit by bit. We have to have this empty to completely accomplish this shift."

"You - stop! STOP!"

His shouts meant nothing, did nothing. All he could do was stare as the increments of his cock disappeared little by little, slowly leaving his sheath a drooping bit of nothing. Over the course of a long minute, the flesh collapsed from the tip all the way to the base, leaving him with something that resembled nothing so much as a deflated furry balloon, empty of anything meaningful.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

He gasped for breath, sure that this should have hurt, that this should have been agony, but all he felt was the slow chill, the itch, and the empty nothing that came after it. The tiger tilted the applicator wand to the side, sticking one gloved finger inside Cormac's sheath. He twiddled it around, and the flesh just bounced about, nothing inside to slow it down or pull it back to where it was supposed to lay.

"A good start."

"...S-start?" the dog whispered, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

No answer. He might as well not have spoken at all. Yet more confirmation that he wasn't even a person, just a thing that the tiger could play with.

Stay calm...stay calm...They will be releasing you from this, eventually. They want you to break. All you have to do is outlast them.

That was what he told himself, and he made himself believe it. He even managed to hold onto that belief as the applicator was pushed further down his sheath, tilted sideways and -

"NNGH!"

Again, it wasn't pain, just an itch that came with an intensity sufficient to drive a man mad. This time, it wasn't merely in his sheath, but down in his sac, running through his balls, surrounding them, tingling and chilling them. The dog-morph tilted his head, not wanting to see the reflection on the ceiling even as he could feel the sagging begin, the loosening, the emptying of his sac.

It didn't take long for the feeling of weight against his taint to disappear, replaced by something no heavier than a few sheets of paper resting against his flesh down there. A dribble of something transparent with streaks of something just off-white oozed through his limp sheath, dribbling down along his thigh.

"That will do for the deconstruction," the tiger said. "And now, for the reconstruction."

"..."

"I'm glad that you understand. It will be far more pleasant for me when we actually get rid of this thing."

Don't talk. Don't talk. Don't talk.

Cormac kept repeating the same mantra in his head as the other applicator wand was brought to bear. He knew that it was going to be painless, at least for now, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to scream. Could this be reversed? Could this be...could this be -

A grunt ripped past his clenched teeth, a sound that he could not quite stifle as the next wave of nanites went to work. They slowly spread across his sheath, feeling so soft and jiggly and wrong compared to what it used to be. That had been the source of his manhood. Now, it was nothing. Nothing but loose flesh and dead skin that was already being repurposed.

It felt like pressure between his legs at first, something that was slowly pushing into the spot where the dead sac and dead sheath met up. They were slowly folding, sinking, digging into him, and it went from pressure to a mild sort of discomfort, almost like there was something being blocked up, like how his sinuses felt when he was ill. It got stronger, the sucking, pressing, expanding feeling getting stronger and stronger.

Against his better judgment, he looked at the ceiling. He watched as his sheath stiffed slightly, moving from his thigh to point upwards again, but there was something wrong with it. Rather than pointing forward and looking like it was getting ready to get hard again, it was pulling in. The tip didn't go past his waist, and soon, it was an inch under it, then an inch under that. The flesh was slowly falling in, and the more that he stared, the more that he realized that there was already an outline around the space that his sheath and sac used to occupy.

"Theeeeere we go," the tiger muttered.

The applicator continued its ominous hum as Cormac's empty flesh pulled inward, the soft lips of a vagina slowly forming around the edges of it. His sheath felt like it was slowly being turned inside-out, his balls pulled further and further inside of him, above and away from the tunnel that was slowly taking shape between his legs.

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

The word kept repeating in his mind, but he was at least able to keep his panic off his face and from coming through his lips. Yet, at the same time, he could feel something else. Something wet, something slimy. The applicator was sliding inside him, helping the new feminine genitals go deeper, form properly, and he was...he was slowly starting to get wet from it.

You....bastard...

Cormac was smart enough to know not to shout, not to antagonize the other man. It didn't matter if he started showing defiance, if he begged, if he did anything, really. The tiger was a relentless machine, someone that would take this as far as he wanted and would not stop no matter how much he was begged. This was the day that he would be made to suffer, the day that would show him where he...where he...

He gasped as the pressure finally stopped, feeling the emptiness between his legs. That familiar weight and bounce of his cock and balls was no longer there. The warmth, the slow churn that he had never really noticed until it was gone, had completely disappeared. There was nothing masculine down there any longer, only a slit that he could barely see the top of in the reflective ceiling.

The tiger pulled the applicator wand free, putting it delicately to the side. With his gloved fingers, he pressed the Malamute's new pussy lips from one side to the other, testing them, seeing how they rolled. Cormac did his best not to react, but while they weren't as sensitive as his shaft had been, they were sensitive enough for him to feel every light prod.

He was huffing, hissing even as the tiger pulled his hand back, wiping the juices on his gloves on the Malamute's leg. It was a slimy mess, but not nearly the drenched-bitch levels that he had seen on others. He gritted his teeth, almost feeling a tooth crack before he made himself relax again.

"You clearly aren't going to be wet enough to take me without help."

"..."

"Oh, yes. You will be taking me. It is part of the fun, after all."

"..."

"And perhaps you will even get pregnant."

Pregnant. His breathing tried to get harder, faster, puffing through his nostrils. Pregnant. The very idea was abhorrent, but...but it was technically possible. The various Biotech companies had mastered that sort of gene-tech a while back, but there was always the possibility of it not taking between two different species. It was possible, if he only had a dog-womb inside, that tiger DNA wouldn't take.

But that was only if he had a dog-womb. He had no idea what the difference would feel like. He didn't know what the tiger was packing. He didn't know the programming of the nanites that had altered him.

Fuck...fuck...FUCK!

The only thing that he could do was keep quiet as the tiger took one of the syringes off the wall. A soft, rubber-tipped one, rather than a metal needle. It was clearly holding fluids that were absorbed through the narrow tissues inside an orifice, not something that needed to be injected, but that didn't make him feel that much better.

As a matter of fact, it didn't make him feel better at all.

It slid past his new sex with a soft squelch, and he had just enough time to see the plunger at the other end depress before the chilling liquid splashed inside him. Almost immediately, he stiffened, his face going red and his body tingling from head to toe. The already-sensitive new slit puffed out, becoming more sensitive, feeling like it was putting off heat like a warming bulb for the reptile-morphs.

"Ah...ah...ah..."

"That's it. A good blend to keep you properly lubricated."

"Nnngh..."

"I shouldn't have any trouble taking you, now."

The fact that that was the concern...

Cormac was still trying to catch his breath as the tiger began the process of stripping off his clothes. They hit the floor in a heavy pile, implying that they were more than mere cloth, but he didn't have the focus to try and analyze clothing style any longer. All that mattered was...was...

Stop...stop it...

But he had no control over his new sex, no control over the way that it was juicing and clenching like mad. His lower parts were on fire, his need growing hotter and hotter. It didn't matter that he knew that this was wrong, that this had been inflicted on him rather than it being something that he wanted. New biology came with new needs and urges, and that was driving him straight up the wall.

"Nnngh..."

"I love it when they moan..."

The tiger's pants finally hit the floor, revealing one hell of a view. Rather than a simple sheath like Cormac had had, the other male had a more traditionally humanoid member, one that hung free, though the head was slightly bumped and studded with the influence of his feline DNA. It was already half-hard, sticking out at seven inches long, and getting longer as the tiger stepped out of his pants.

Cormac tried in vain to close his legs, but the emitters were still too strong. The most that he managed was a light bruising of his ankles as he tried to pull against the hard-light. The tiger pulled closer and closer, that stiff cock pressing against his nether regions in short order.

"There is something more proper about a feminine part, particularly on those that are unworthy of a shaft. I imagine that you will feel very good split on me."

"Mmmmph..."

"I can feel you twitching."

And he was, though not for any conscious want. He slammed the back of his head against the table, half-hoping that it would knock him out, but he wasn't so lucky. All he got for his trouble was the ache of a bashed-in back of his head. He groaned, feeling the heat growing stronger and stronger between his legs.

It had to be an aphrodisiac, and one that was particularly targeted to either his species or feminine flesh for the tiger to risk putting his cock in there. Cormac groaned, trying to summon even the ghost of a growl, but all that he managed was a whimper of need.

"Yes. That's it. Moan for me."

"Not...not for..."

"Heh...it will be."

The head of the shaft was bumpy, just as he had noted, but that didn't mean that it felt bad. In fact, it felt too good. Little shivers, little whines kept breaking free of his muzzle, and his thighs twitched, his legs trying to close, and no longer for the right reasons. They wanted to pull the big tiger down, to push that inside him.

Well, he didn't have to wait long. The tiger pushed forward, and the head forced its way past his new pussy.

Cormac wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs in one long, slow thrust. He had never, ever imagined that something would open him up like that, even as a male, but this was so different, so very new, so very...very intense. His eyes rolled back as flesh that had been primed for pleasure received it.

Pat.

Pat, pat.

It was just short of a slap, and he knew that the next one would be a real one. The Malamute looked up at the tiger, saw the smirk on his face.

"This is not for you. If you pass out, I will wake you up, and you will not like the waking. So...stay conscious if you know what's good for you."

"You - NNNGH!"

The first insertion had been a lightning bolt of unwanted stimulation, burning and searing through him. The first thrust was something exponentially more powerful. Cormac did not know if it was pain, or pleasure, or some horrid combination of the two, but whatever he felt between his legs burned through whatever response had been forming at the tip of his tongue and made him swallow it like some much garbage.

The tiger's thrusts were as rough and brutal as the feline himself, with no technique, no break, no attempts to change it up and give him some pleasure from it. Whether he simply believed that the aphrodisiacs would do the job for him - and they almost were - or whether he just didn't care - which he probably didn't - he just thrust away, taking his own pleasure and caring not a bit for anything else.

In, and out. In, and out. The squelching sounds filled the air, followed by the huffing grunts of the larger, powerful feline over him. Cormac grunted every time that the interrogator bottomed out in him, feeling the restraints tugging, pulling, bruising him as he was held down and rutted, fucked, broken in. The sensation of being shoved along the table was secondary to everything else, but just like the heat, the abuse, the fear, it all came together to create something else.

Helplessness.

Humiliation.

Utter degradation.

His eyes were rolling back despite his best efforts, his mouth hanging open as the thrusts somehow managed to get faster, rutting him, forcing him open. He felt like he was going to split on that thing, didn't even know how large the tiger was, but knew that it had to be big. It was breaking in his virgin hole, making him stretch to accommodate it, to become the size that it needed to give the tiger the best pleasure that he could get.

And...

And...

SMACK!

A slap, but it didn't do enough to snap him back from orgasm. The humiliation burned in him as he was forced over the edge, his inner walls clamping down around the tiger's shaft. He felt the pleasure wash through him, as intense - if not more so - than his male orgasms, far more potent in the way that it kept going as he kept clenching, shivering from head to toe.

His wordless moans came to an end as the tiger stared down at him, mild annoyance writ large on his face.

"Well, now that you've finished slowing me down...I suppose I will get back to it."

The tiger pulled out of him four hours later. There had been short breaks among the rut, though no longer than ten minutes at any given time, and never with the mercy that Cormac would have begged for. He was a gibbering mess, though at least the sound was less intelligible than some of the things that he might have said otherwise. The Malamute was half-aware of the fact that he had at least partially broken, muttering words of some import, though he had been so hopped up on pleasure and so brain-frazzled from the fuck that he didn't know what he had been saying.

The humiliation of being so utterly used still sat wrong with him, and he said nothing as the tiger stood beside him, drenched cock still half-hard and pointing down at his face. The feline cocked his head to the side as Cormac looked up at him.

"You are angry."

"..."

"You must have expected this."

"..."

"Ah. I see. You are angry because I did what others didn't. Despite the fact that I didn't have as much to work with."

"I...hate...you."

"You are free to hate what you will. You are still altered - properly, I feel - and you will learn your place. One way or another, you will learn your place."

"Until you have to let me go."

The tiger grabbed him, then, grabbed him with claws that were sharp enough to prick his jaw through his fur. He gasped, hissing through his teeth as he was made to stare the tiger right in the eyes.

"You think that this will be over...just because they let you go?" The interrogator chuckled. "No...Whether you break here or not, it doesn't matter. The seed is planted now, dog. You will remember what happened to you, and no matter where you go, no matter what you do, you will remember how you were broken, the purpose that you were given, and what might have happened if I was given longer. I've left my mark on you. And one day, if I am lucky, I will come to finish the job..."

Cormac stared, barely hiding the tremors running down his body at the thought. He would...he wouldn't break. He hadn't broken here, not really. He was...

He was...

The tiger let him go, only to move forward. The feline pointed his cock at Cormac's face, and suddenly, the Malamute had more than humiliation and existential horror to deal with. A flood of yellow rained down over his face, leaving him sputtering as the tiger slowly dragged it up and down along his body, staining his fur, marking him in scent and sight as the bitch that he had become for the interrogator.

Warm.

Bitter.

Smelly.

It coated him quickly, and the interrogator leaned in to make sure that the last few drops rained right over his face, right between his eyes. Cormac growled, managing that much as the other male stood over him, but that was all that he could accomplish. Everything else - anything else - was too much. He had been beaten down, hard.

The tiger smiled, stepping back. He looked up at the corner of the room.

"Time?"

"You have fifteen minutes."

"That should be enough for one more round..."

Cormac groaned as the tiger mounted the table, that shaft hardening already. He braced himself. It was just one more...one more round...and then they'd have to ship him out...

He could take that...

He hoped.

The End

Summary: Cormac, an agent of a corporation in a sci-fi setting, has been caught. He will be interrogated and broken, according to his captors.

Tags: M/M, M/Intersex, Male Presenting, Gender TF, Nanites, Painless Penectomy, Male to Female Genitalia, Cock to Pussy, Vaginal, Bondage, Noncon, Unwanted, Watersports, Interrogation, Humiliation, Pain, Orgasm, Cum, Forced Orgasm,