Testosterone-X Ch. 11

Wren woke up to a cold spritz in the face. He startled backward and saw a plastic spray bottle in Jack's hand.

"Wake up. You need a bath," Jack said curtly. They held his leash as well, the metal clip swinging heavy from their fist. Wren was surprised to see it. They hadn't had to use the leash for weeks now. Jack trusted him. He thought they did anyway. Maybe he had been unknowingly disobedient?

He was even more surprised to be clipped to it and led from the room before he even had breakfast. His stomach gurgled, complaining about the schedule change.

The walk to the bathrooms was brisk. Wren could only half-stumble half-gallop to keep up with his unusually quick trainer. The collar was tight to his throat the whole walk. He was made to use the squatting toilet again and when he finished his business, Jack clipped him up again. He wasn't brought to the communal showers just next to the toilets this time.

They went back down the hallway toward the training room, then past its black paint door. The other doors passed by in a blur of dark rectangles until they were at silver double doors. Behind their gleaming exteriors, Wren heard the sound of running water and spraying.

Jack pushed open the door and gestured him inside.

Wren found himself in a bright room. The linoleum was cold but damp with steam under his hands and knees, and the air of it was humid. He shook his head as he felt it starting to bead on his curls. His hair had grown out so much in the time since he had come to the study.

There were other pups around them, all on tight leashes and looking equally confused. The trainers didn't speak amongst each other like other times. From his position heeled at Jack's side, he saw familiar faces. He recognized a few pups from bathroom trips, but along the far wall were Fox and Corey! His tail started to wag, sweeping across the floor rapidly as he strained to catch their eyes.

The bruises he had seen before on his friends were faded, just like his own. Wren noticed Jack starting to lean toward gentler corrections of his behavior, ones that wouldn't leave marks on the skin. Why the sudden change though? He had no clue.

"Just on time," Jack muttered, clinging to the leash with a vice grip. They did not look down at him or attempt to make conversation with any of the nearby trainers. They felt oddly distant from him now, even as he pressed to the side of their thigh. He was very confused about what was happening.

"Pup Eight-fifty-two-sixteen," a voice called from down a long, white hallway. The trainer in charge of that pup stepped away from the wall and pulled a reluctant pup behind her. They walked down the hall and disappeared into a cloud of steam. He perked his ears and tilted his head to get a better view.

"Still yourself," his trainer hissed to him. Their foot nudged his butt and he lowered his head, feeling scolded.

Just after the pup's nub tail disappeared, someone came back the other way. Yet another trainer leading a slightly damp pup appeared. His floppy ears swung dangerously close to the floor, threatening to trip him up as he walked past and out the door. Wren looked up to Jack for an explanation, but he didn't get so much as a glance. His ears lowered. The pup looked very tired and stumbled behind his trainer.

The arrangement of the trainers along the walls shifted a bit but otherwise, no one moved. Not until the next pup was called and led away. Wren watched with silent confusion as Corey was brought down the hallway and another pup left after him.

Wren recognized his own number immediately. "Pup Eight-fifty-two-nineteen." He followed Jack obediently toward the back. The hallway was short and briefly dimmed before becoming a bright, open room. A tall, thin woman waved them over, then pointed to her right.

"You're in Bay Six. Angela will be with you shortly," she said. Wren was led there next. Bay Six looked a lot like a self-grooming station for dogs. It was one of several along the wall, separated by translucent blue glass panels. Inside was a huge metal tub, big enough to fit four people, and dark stainless steel. Multiple hoses and implements hung on a rack next to it. He was made to kneel on an uncomfortable rubber mat in front of the tub.

At least he wasn't waiting long. A young blond woman entered soon enough wearing a long vinyl apron. This must be Angela. She smiled at Wren, then up at Jack.

"It's nice to see you again, Jack," Angela said with a sweet tone. She approached the bath and folded down a set of stairs that led up to its gleaming basin.

"Come on up, pup." She patted the top step and waved to Wren. "Time for a bath."

Wren looked to Jack first. They reached down and unbuckled the collar around his neck. "Go on," they said with a nod. He crawled up the stairs and sat down in the tub. A long rubber loop dropped down from above and Angela swung it over his head, tightening it around his neck as he settled.

Angela said nothing as she turned the water on and drenched him immediately in the spray. She had a hose in one hand and a bottle of soap in the other. He felt the cool soap drip down his back. It was lathered onto him by a soft-gloved hand.

She scrubbed his back first, then his sides and belly. Wren wagged as he enjoyed the careful treatment. He leaned into Angela's touch as she squirted shampoo in his hair and on his tail. Her fingers were thorough against his scalp, scrubbing him like a dog. Her hands drifted down his arms, then his legs, and came around to his ass to work the shampoo through his tail. She was indiscriminate, allowing the heel of her hand to press between his ass cheeks.

"Close your eyes," she warned before spraying him again. He did so and let the soothing water run over his back. This was the most thorough bathing he had received in months. Jack made him scrub himself quickly in the public showers, but here in the tub he actually felt he was being cleaned.

Angela's fingers played with the folds of his pussy momentarily before she shut the water off.

"Alright, now stay put, pup. I'm going to shave you now; don't want to cut you anywhere," she said with a smile. Wren held as still as he could on his hands and knees. The bath mat was ridged and uncomfortable for his palms but he didn't shift or wiggle when she pulled out clippers and began to shave him.

She started at his head. The clippers buzzed to life and began to slice through the hair along his scalp. It took only a few swipes for his head to feel bare. Dark hair fell around him and caught in the bath mat. Angela clipped close to the base of his ears but left his fur long there. She only moved on when his head was completely sheared, and cut his facial hair down significantly.

Methodically, Angela rid him of any length of hair on his body. Every strand was cut down to only a few centimeters. He still had some hair, but he wasn't quite as hairy as he had been anymore. She followed her close shave with a rinse.

Once again she sprayed him down with warm water and wiped away any lingering hair from his shoulders and thighs. Her hand seemed to purposefully pause between his legs as she cleaned him there. His dick responded accordingly, perking up with excitement at the touch. If Angela noticed, she didn't say anything, continuing to rub the outside of his pussy lips.

"You're a good boy, aren't you," Angela cooed. She tossed over her shoulder, "You must have had a very skilled trainer to make you so obedient."

Her comment went unanswered by Jack, but Wren wagged and smiled at the praise. He was doing his very best. It felt good to have that recognized by someone other than Jack. His dick throbbed at the attention too. His bath ended all too soon. After rubbing him down with a towel, Angela spread a lotion over his skin and unfolded the bath steps again. She stepped away from the tub.

"All done! I'll see you next time, Jack," she said.

"Let's go," Jack ordered. Wren's collar locked around his neck again. It was a comforting and familiar weight and reminded him of his place. He heeled at their hip once more and followed them out of the room. He understood why the others had looked so tired. That bath had made him sleepy.

He walked out of the room with another pup entering just after him, and then they were out the door and in the hall again. Bath time was over. That much was obvious in the cold air of the hallway. He felt a bit of a shock but he wasn't given much time to adjust. Jack was pulling him down the hall again, silent as ever. Wren frowned. At least Doctor Burch had let him ask questions when new things happened. He almost missed the doctor now.

Their journey ended at a black door much like his training room. This one wasn't marked with a number, though. In bright white letters on the door, it read "Auction Theater, Back Stage."

Wren was brought inside to a dim and crowded area. People filled every available space between lines of metal crates. Some of the crates already held pups and others were being filled as he walked down the tight aisles. Brightly colored signs marked off sections of the cages, separating the pups into groups based on numbers it seemed. It was a messier affair than the baths had been. Trainers talked in groups and pups whispered between the bars of their cages. There must have been at least two dozen crates in there.

"Alright pup, get in." Jack opened the door to a crate marked with a blue sign. His section was mostly empty so far, Wren one of the few pups filling the cages. Jack unlatched his leash and gave him a nudge.

Wren looked back at his trainer, then stepped over the lip of the crate's entrance. He fit comfortably in the crate at least, though its rough plastic base was hardly pleasant to stand on. They closed the crate and locked it once he was fully inside. His leash was hooked on the door. Jack promptly disappeared from sight, swallowed by the crowd around them.

He sat there for what felt like an eternity. His head was cold, still damp, and short hair did nothing to insulate him. The pups who began to fill the cages around him were withdrawn and quiet for the most part. Even Corey, who had at first seemed excited to see him, didn't look his way after getting settled in his own crate.

He wondered if Jack would be coming back to say goodbye to him.

How could he already be at the auction? It all felt so final sitting there among the rows of caged pups. Wren whined low in his throat, hoping it might draw his trainer back to his side. His tail tucked under his rear as he curled up against the back wall of the crate.

"Auction begins in three hours! Trainers we ask that you please exit the room once you check in and drop off your pups. Check-in ends in thirty minutes," someone called through a grainy megaphone over the crowd.

People slowly filtered out of the room through the door he had entered from. Wren watched the crowd dwindle further and further. There was no sign of Jack, not even when the last few trainers lingered in the room. Wren whimpered and pinned his ears back. He had been hoping for some sort of send-off from his trainer after their time spent together. Instead, he was left alone without even a goodbye.

When the room was empty of all but a few people, a cart was wheeled in with a bunch of rattling glass vials.

"Pups, present. Ass toward the door of your crates." The same person as before called out.

Wren did just that. Every pup did the same thing, putting their asses toward the entrance to their crates almost in sync with each other. He heard the doors begin opening and yelps of pain.

One by one the cart and attendants worked down the lines. They used the vials to fill plastic syringes, switched out the needles, then pierced the meat of each pup's ass. It was a familiar routine; just like his testosterone doses. He'd been slowed down on his dosage in the last few weeks.

This must be the last dose, he thought to himself. They would give each of them one last injection before they were ready to go with their new masters. He was happy to receive his testosterone one last time and offered himself eagerly to the needle. It stabbed in sharp and quick. The plunger was pushed down with uncomfortable speed and then it withdrew and the cage door shut again.

He was allowed to sit, though he did so on his opposite thigh. The injection site stung but it made him happy to feel that again. Would his master want him on injections too? There were so many possibilities. He left his loneliness behind as he grew excited for the auction.

When every pup had been given their dose, the attendants left the room. It gave them time to speak to each other, though Wren could only get the attention of the pup behind him.

"Hi, I'm Wr- Eight-fifty-two-nineteen," Wren corrected himself, "what's your number?" He spoke quietly and quickly to the man on the other side of the bars.

"Uhh.. Eight-forty-seven-nine is my number," he responded. "What do you think that stuff was?"

"Our last T doses probably. They'll want us in our best condition for the auction." Wren shrugged. He felt like that was obvious.

"T? I'm not getting any needle doses," the other pup frowned. He rubbed his sore cheek with a grimace. He was leaning heavily on the crate's back wall, his skin pressing between the bars.

"Oh. I'm not sure then," Wren admitted, head tilting again. "Maybe an aphrodisiac? My trainer told me about them, but we never tried them. Could be that. Maybe we're supposed to put on a good show to get people to want us."

"Could be..." Eight-forty-seven-nine didn't look convinced as he turned back around with a sigh.

Wren had a feeling he wasn't going to be getting much more conversation out of him. He turned back around and laid down on his crate mat. He curled his tail around his thigh and huffed a big sigh. He wondered how much longer it would be until the auction started. All he could do was wait for the attendants to come back.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he started feeling weird, but eventually, he noticed that he was light-headed. It made him dizzy to even raise his eyes above the floor and he rolled onto his side with a groan. His whole body felt light and heavy at the same time. Like his hands were made of concrete but his chest was a cloud threatening to float away.

After his initial realization, the exhaustion hit hard and fast. His eyes closed to block out the dancing lights overhead but he couldn't escape the overstimulating smells of dozens of sweaty, tense bodies packed into this stifling room. His bath earlier felt useless now as his own body grew damp with perspiration. His short hair hadn't even had time to dry before becoming wet again.

Consciousness faded in and out around his head. He could only register slivers of the room at a time. He felt like he was underwater, being hit by rolling waves on all sides that disoriented and nauseated him. He could only cling to the mat and try to breathe through the wave. Around him, others were starting to whine and complain of their discomfort as well.

An infinite amount of time could have passed between his injection and being walked onto the stage, and Wren remembered none of it. He only was brought to clarity by the click of a leash latching onto his collar. Someone in a white mask and jumpsuit led him silently from his crate.

The rows of pups had diminished significantly. Empty crates were all around him as he exited the back room and came out onto the smooth black surface of the stage.

Wren was made to get on a raised platform and held in place by a firm hand on his collar. A man stepped forward to speak to the audience. He blinked to try and see the potential buyers but the spotlights kept him from seeing into the crowd.

"Our fifteenth lot for tonight ladies and gentlemen; Lot #8529. It is part of our most recent batch of puppy boys produced for your pleasure. Lot #8529 has been trained in obedience and pain, and I've been told it's a resilient little thing. It'll take a lot of pressure to snap this young pup. Bidding starts at three thousand dollars, please refer to the screen for the most current bid as you enter." The man turned around and made a grand wave toward something behind Wren.

Immediately lights flashed in the audience, illuminating faces only briefly. He wasn't left staring out for long. The attendant holding him turned his platform around. Wren looked up at the bright screen at the back of the stage. There was a large number displayed on it and it kept going up. The screen chimed with each bid as the number rose higher. He dropped his gaze to the platform when the light got too disorienting.

"Don't you want to take him home with you? Make Lot #8529 part of your harem, or maybe just your personal toy. He's broken to take anything you give him and do it happily." A hand smacked his ass for emphasis and Wren jolted with surprise. A few members of the audience murmured excitedly and the chime of bids came faster.

Wren wasn't even sure how long he stood there on the stage, checking the bidding screen infrequently. The announcer made him spread his legs and shake his ass to entice the bidders further, even going so far as to tease his pussy.

He felt so exposed up there on the hot stage. He was dripping sweat down his chest and back, no doubt shining under the bright lights.

The chiming started to slow. A glance up told him the bid was somewhere around fifty thousand. The announcer seemed quite happy and kept goading the crowd to go higher. His tail was grabbed and lifted to expose his asshole. A damp finger circled the wrinkled ring of muscle and made him clench and flutter. He tried to look over his shoulder but the crowd was still practically invisible.

A single last ping came in and the room was silent for a long moment.

"We have sixty-two thousand dollars for Lot #8529. Does anyone want to bid higher? Sixty-two thousand dollars going once... Going twice..." The announcer grinned as he drew out his words. "Sold! Bidder 456 you will be sent directions to go pick up your lot. Thank you so much for your purchase today. Now please prepare yourselves for our next lot."

Wren was walked back off the stage in a haze. He had sold for sixty-two thousand dollars? The idea seemed ridiculous, that anyone might think he was worth that much. That was twice what he would make in a year at his old job. He wondered who might want to buy him so badly they would spend that much to ensure they won him. He was brought through a new door and into a small, empty room.

The attendant handed him off to a short man with little ceremony and shut the door behind them.

Wren was held in the room for an indefinite amount of time waiting for his buyer to show up. He began to feel a little anxious that they wouldn't show up. Maybe it had been a mistake?

Maybe they had taken back their bid and admitted it was an accident to spend so much on him. He was a good puppy, but sixty-two thousand?

Despite all his fears and doubts, someone eventually entered the room.

A tall man stalked into the room with a predatory swagger in his hips. He wore a dark suit that matched his dark hair and eyes, and a pair of sharp rectangular glasses that perched on his nose. He smiled down at Wren with a gleaming grin.

"Ah, you're even prettier up close, pup. What a cute little thing you are."

"Well worth what you paid," the shorter man said with a nod. His leash was handed to the new man and he immediately kneeled before him.

"Good boy. You may call me Master," his new owner said, no room left for argument. Not that Wren would argue with him anyway. He knew much better than to speak back against his Master. He nodded eagerly in return.

"Come. You have a long ride home and I want to be in the air as soon as possible," Master said with a tug on his leash. Wren followed him out the door, still wobbly and feeling even more tired than before. But he followed dutifully as he made his way toward his new home.