-Trinket's Trip to B-Class-
Story by Trinket - Art by Nimbletail

Got this wonderfully devious new commission from Nimbletail and couldn't resist writing a story to go with it, an alternate universe where Trinket’s stay in Compet didn't end “Picture Perfect” for her. Enjoy and consider supporting nimble and their lovely work!

The morning had started like any other she had endured since she had been forced into servitude at the hands of the Federal Bureau of Pettification, Trinket awoke in her tight kennel with a mouth as dry as the Sahara desert and an awful crick in her neck from sleeping on the uncomfortable plastic floor. She would have to admit that she was quite small in size, but the kennel they kept her in felt like it must have been made for a real dog even smaller than her if anything were to sleep comfortably within it. There was barely enough room for her to turn over, but she managed to worm her face over to where the small, cock shaped water feeder hung from the wall. Timidly she put her lips to the twisted hamster like feeder and suckled at it for relief, an ineffectual amount of the warm, stale liquid flowing into her mouth with each controlled suck. 

 Distracted by the utterly dehumanizing position she hadn't heard the approaching workers until the click of their rough boots on the concrete floor was right outside her kennel door, the last few words of their conversation finally hitting her as she pulled her mouth from the feeder. “245, 246, There 247! You get the carrier ready and I'll get the little bitch here ready for transfer.” She heard the click of the lock that held her kennel door shut click open and suddenly she had never felt so appreciative of the safety it had embodied, a rough hand wrapped its fingers around the ring of her collar and yanked her half way into the bright lights of the hallway. 

“Rise and shine Buttercup! Congratulations, your transfer papers came through and you're officially B-Class.” He paused for a moment, pulling her the rest of the way from her cage and onto the hard concrete floor for inspection. She wanted to scream, to lash out despite the terrible shock it would elicit from the collar that clung to her neck, there must have been some mistake. She hadn't been notified of any transfer and she was 246 not 247! Wherever terrible place they were sending her, she had met the unfortunate fate of some other pup through pure chance. “Bit Small for a B-Class dontcha think Mark? Are they really sending them down there that small these days?  Waste of a nice, tight little cunt like that if you ask me.” 

 “Chairman's orders Bill, straight from the top. Seems this ones been racking up the disciplinary notices left and right, some of these bitches need to be broken a little more forcefully if you ask me” Trinket struggled feebly against the men's grasp as they pulled her back into another, even more terrible looking travel carrier. Why were they ignoring her protests! It wasn't her! She didn't even have one disciplinary notice that she knew of let alone multiple! They forced her into place, pushing her unwilling puppy parts back onto a massive knotted dildo that forced her to stay in one place. Before she could even think again they had shut the door in her face, a second rubber toy filling her mouth and silencing her whimpers for good. 

It must have been hours since they had loaded her carrier into the truck and she had been alone in the darkness of the security vehicle, with no idea where she was going it was hard to know how far the drive had taken her but she had a feeling it was a long way from the main FBP facility; and 1000s of  miles from her true home in the north. She couldn't help but break down and cry as her carrier was wheeled off the truck and back into the bone chilling air every FBP facility employed to keep her shivering, a genuine sense of relief washing over her for a second as it seemed her journey finally stopped and she anticipated a small amount of relief from the carriers invaders she had endured in both ends for the past hours. 

 She peeked through the bars of the cage desperately trying to get even a small view of where she had wound up, the puzzle of being labeled “B-Class” still lingering in her timid mind. Her eyes searched the room outside frantically, her heart skipping a beat as she locked eyes with a fully grown German shepherd that began to sniff about her cage inquisitively. Oh no, oh god no. This couldn't be happening. The sound of more than one other REAL dog less than pleasantly sniffing at her through the slats in the crate made her blood run cold, her puzzle solved with the most terrible conclusion as she read the dirty ballcap of the breeding trainer who opened the cage door once again and thrust her from that make-believe sense of security she had been holding onto. Class B stood for Bitch, and she shivered with the thought of being called one now.