Randy’s moans of pleasure were muffled by the dildo in his mouth and the lube that spilled from his lips and puddled on his chest. It was like a perpetual motion machine of orgasms, except Sam had somehow turned off his ability to ejaculate. The pleasure had fried most conscious thought out of his mind.
His earmuffs were removed.
“Randy, system diagnostics.” His creator’s voice said.
Something in his mind (now a highly advanced super computer) gave a quiet beep and he saw system diagnostics appear in his vision. He performed a speed check on all three of his motors. All were operating within parameters. No clogs in the lube lines. Body warmed to a proper temperature. His internal battery had a charge that could last a lifetime of use. Lube levels nearly full, though he wasn’t worried about that. He would never run out of lube, his body pulling the material from the moisture in the air. But something gnawed at him. A stray thought. Something a toy should not have.
Hands felt down his fake muscles and fur like it were real. Randy felt the dildo in his mouth withdraw. A pang of disappointment. Randy hadn’t gotten it to cum. That it couldn’t, as it was just a dildo, was not something he was capable of processing. His dick was a dildo and it could cum, when his creator allowed it. That just proved he hadn’t been good enough.
“...Test complete. Oral and anal motor operating optimally.” Randy’s voice was monotone. “Lube chamber working and fully functional. All systems operational and ready for service.”
“Good fucktoy.” Master's voice said. "And you'll be placed in service soon."
Randy moaned in excitement. He’d finally be put to proper use! He couldn’t wait, mouth self-lubing as he thought of all the cocks he would experience. Cocks that could properly be brought to orgasm.
The blindfold was removed from his head and the world was revealed to him. His creator stood in front of him, looking at him eagerly. Randy happily activated his tail motor and the master grinned when he saw the subroutine activate.
“Thank you master!” Randy barked. “I am so grateful!”
“Aww, miss your favorite bone, boy?” Master asked, holding the dildo that had been in his mouth up for Randy to inspect.
Randy whined and nodded. He was feeling very empty. Master tweaked his nipples. Randy moaned and squirmed under his touch. Everything went hazy as pleasure filled him. He used his abs and thighs to thrust into the air.
“Don’t worry, you’ll have a real one to suck soon enough.” Master patted his head. “You’re made to fuck, after all.”
Sam walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a few garments and some paint. He opened a drawer in the table and pulled out a brush and some jeweler and piercings. Randy saw a thug’s jacket, a gold choke chain and a baseball cap.
“You know, Randy,” Sam spoke, carefully laying out the items, “You are going to be one hot product when I’m finished. Demand for this new line is high. Who knew furries of all people had so much money? All the furries I know are broke as fuck.”
Randy smiled, not sure what Master was talking about.
“I’ve gotta admit, you’re already a cute, loving guy.” Sam dipped the brush in the midnight blue paint and began drawing patterns on Randy’s chest. “You are going to be my highest-end toy. I can barely keep up with the demand, you know. Hank found his way into so many people’s homes and hearts.”
“May I ask what you are doing, Creator?” Randy smiled lovingly at Sam as he placed the gold choke collar around his thick neck.
Sam flipped him over and continued painting lines on his back. Half an hour later, Randy was flipped back onto his front. Sam stepped back and eyed him critically, then added a piercing to his left eyebrow and a few earrings in his ears.
“What am I doing?” Sam asked. "Are you really that curious?"
Randy nodded, looking at himself. He was covered in inky tattoos. Some of them were definitely not something a police dog like him was supposed to have. He blinked. He was a fucktoy, not a police dog!
“I already have a Sherriff, Randy, and he needs a few bad boys to round up and fuck.” Sam shrugged. "But unfortunately, you look more like a police dog than a naughty dog. So we’re going to add a few details.”
Sam leaned over and began to write in Gothic lettering just above Randy’s still-thrumming cock. Randy couldn’t help but watch, each drop of ink absorbing into his faux flesh, becoming another part of him. Sam finished writing FREE RIDES. Below it he had written OR DRINKS. Randy felt oddly proud, and flexed his lower abs happily.
“Oh, you can also piss alcohol, by the way.” Sam said, though Randy hadn’t asked. “I think you’ll be popular at frats. Considered making it a bong but that’s going into another sex doll."
“But what if I go to a girl’s frat?” Randy asked.
“Sorority. A girl's frat is a sorority. And I made sure your tongue has a motor. It’s essentially a very flexible second cock for you. I think I’ll advertise you as ‘No peanut butter needed!’” Sam cackled.
Randy flexed his tongue experimentally. Another cock?
"I can't change your species, but I might be able to change your breed." Sam eyed his work critically. “Perfect, but that German Shepherd look has to go. Let’s see if this works. Object!”
Randy watched in the mirror as the change overtook him. His creamy belly fur became pitch black, ears docking and becoming sharper. The decent paint job changed to more intricate tattoos, a blue that stood out against his black fur. Even his muscles changed as his longer fur receded, pecs bulging, veins crisscrossing them as he achieved vascularity. His arms and legs regrew, tattoos twisting down them. He abs plumped into proper muscle-gut, his weight lifter look transitioning into a more thuggish steroid-abuser look.
His sweet German Shepherd demeanor changed, face altering, becoming more rugged as he bacme a Doberman. He could feel his attitude change as his purpose altered, becoming an ensemble piece to Hank. He was a bad boy who needed to be punished by being fucked in all his holes or be the bad boy he was and fuck his owner into submission. His mouth quirked into a cocky smirk as the thoughts consumed his old personality.
Sam’s hands trailed down to Randy’s nipples, tweaking them, sending a literal shock of pleasure into Randy’s high advanced AI brain. Then he pierced them, sliding two bars into them, and flicked them. Randy moaned happily. He might be a bad boy but he loved his master and was proud of all the nice accessories he had given him.
“Stand.” Master/Creator commanded.
Powerful motors whirred as he sat up and swung his legs onto the ground, servo motors twisting his form into the proper configuration. He stood at attention, rubbery red bone bobbing in the air. Master placed some rings on his fingers that looked very expensive.
“Put those clothes on.” Master pointed at the clothes.
Randy pulled on the jeans, shirt, socks and leather combat boots. There was even a jacket, whose sleeves were cut off, that smelled of cigar smoke, leather, and sex. He shrugged it over the shoulders and flexed. Perfect fit. Sam placed the baseball cap on his head backwards.
“One last thing.” Sam reached down and slipped his finger against Randy’s lower back, where his nameplate was inset. “I like you as a fuck toy but I need you as a guard dog. Object.”
Randy felt it in his soul as the plate change.
Ruff Randy Raw-Dog the Junkyard Guard and his Big Red Bone.
A guard. A rough guard. Randy felt a wicked grin spread across his face. Yeah. He liked that.
He’d fuck anyone who entered Master’s junkyard. Protective subroutines filled his mind. He was made for three things: protect master from harm, do whatever his master said no matter what, and finally pleasure his master in sexual intercourse. He clenched the horse-cock that still filled his ass, enjoying the thrum as it and the cock-sleeve pleasured him in tandem, keeping any old human thoughts-whatever remained-deep in the thrum and pulse of sustained orgasm. Caramel-flavored lube wet the front of his pants.
“Yes master, I will protect you!” Randy’s tail wagged, motor whirring, now silent beneath padding.
Sam smiled and then nearly feel down.
Randy caught him in his overly muscular arms before any conscious thought entered his AI brain. He carried Sam to the table and sat him down.
“Are you okay master?” The servos in Randy’s face shifted to concern.
“Creating you took a lot out of me.” Sam grinned. “Your first duty is to stand guard will I rest. Then I believe I have enough energy to make two more of your type before meeting Tex and giving Hank to your boyfriend.”
Randy froze.
Boyfriend? He had no subroutine for boyfriend. An image of a handsome tigerman, ass bouncing playfully in front of his face, wearing a sparkling thong crossed his mind. Troy, he identified. Randy straightened, servos moving his face into a smile. Ah, yes. He would make a lovely companion.
“Lovely companion, huh?” Sam mumbled, reading Randy’s thoughts on his cellphone. “Maybe. Someone needs to enjoy Hank. And he’s a tiger, huh? You know, almost every anthro around here has been something more domesticated or a lame herbivore. Doesn’t really match with my aesthetic, though. I think he’ll make a better Rottweiler. Any other friends?”
Randy’s mind connected Lenny, the black bear, to Troy, and his face popped up on Sam’s screen. He chuckled.
“Damn! All your friends will be perfect for my needs!” Sam was practically giggling. “Unless Tex likes them, then I guess I’ll let them live. I wonder if I can get you guys to act more alive around him somehow. Keep him fooled.”
Randy nodded. “Yes master. Thank you creator. Fuck me as a reward?”
“Ah. Can’t do that right now.” Sam grimaced. “There’s a person out there who might harm me and take you away from me.”
Randy growled.
“Don’t worry. If they do attack, I want you to fuck them into submission. Your lube has a transformative property that lasts for the next 12 hours. It’ll do to them like I did to you earlier. That’s why I collapsed”
“And master does not wish to be a sex doll.” Randy nodded. “Understood.”
Sam smiled. “Exactly. Now go grab that moose and elk off the shelf and place them on tables. We’re going to do some more work.”
“Yes master.” Randy moved and did as he was instructed. He was a good robot.
“If I pass out, wake me up at 5 pm so I can meet Tex, and watch where you put that lube.” Sam held his Book close to him. “Oh, one last thing.”
“Master?”
“Your old memories. Go ahead and compress them, sort them into reference files, and then delete any emotional connections. Begin subroutine Epsilon-A.”
“M-master-” Randy’s mind stumbled as the subroutine activated on command.
The program ran through all his memories, sorting them into easy-access files and then deleting the emotional engram attached to them. In their place, the new guard dog personality forced its way forward. The only emotions he had were towards Master and Tex and his lust and eagerness to fuck any trespassers.
The program beeped as the last memory, Troy, was filed away.
“It is done, master.” Randy growled happily as the program finished, transformative lube drooling from his lips.
“Good boy.”
Randy guarded his master, alert for any sounds. His tailed wagged all the while, enjoying being useful hoping for a tight hole to claim.
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2 1/2 hours earlier
Tex whistled as he went back to his hotel room. It was the Presidential suite, because it turned out Sam was loaded with money. Most of it was crypto, but still. The entire time he was here, he felt bad. The Book was a big secret and as much as Tex wanted to share it with him, something held him back. It wasn’t just his secret. There was also another part of him that was afraid he would be misused by him like David had.
He felt conflicted.
Last night, they lay together in bed. Sam wanted to sleep on his pecs and he muttered something and fell asleep in his arms. Tex had passed out as soon as the word left Sam’s lips, but he was still in his arms when Tex woke up, smiling at him. He felt a little different, heavier, nose flattened and broken, a brass ring piercing his septum, tattoos on his chest and arms, a beard that stretched to his musclegut. Even his brows pushed out a bit, making his visage more brutish than boyish. He looked more like a redneck thug than a farmboy.
He’d felt scared when he saw his image in the bathroom. Sam was there at his side, talking him through it, calming him down. The dissociative thoughts went away a few minutes later and he felt like himself again. Just like always.
That was bad, but worse, every time he looked out the windows and saw all the anthros, he remembered his promise to RK.
He was taking too long and he wanted to meet the Book of Beast owner now. Sure, Sam had ordered him to stay here, but he had no idea how important this mission was. He could finally be useful to someone else, someone who could give him what he desperately wanted. He made his decision, stood, and walked to the door.
Five feet out in the hall, he turned back and grabbed his book bag, terrified that he’d almost left it behind. He considered changing himself more…but he was already so big. There could be no doubt that he was the Book of Body user. He left, trying to ignore the feeling that Sam would be upset with him. He would understand later, once the Book was gone and not Tex’s responsibility.
As Tex walked, he noticed so many people walking by that could use his help. Overweight, thin, short. He whispered the right magic word, hand clutching his Book. The world changed for the better behind him.