The Mistress/trainer threw three small one-inch rawhide bones, purchased from a pet store, into the pit filled with all that shit. Then of the dogs ha... to crawl into the shit-filled pit and furiously scramble, searching for the bones. It was like musical chairs, except here it's six dogs, five bones. The loser is the one that doesn't find one. As us dogs had to bury their faces into that mushy shit, desperately searching for the bone. As soon as they found it, they must crawl out until only one. Cox echoed. "Do you require my station algorithms to screen applicants for maximized eugenic potential?" No," answered the Supreme Andrologist. "The first applicant has already been selected."With the flick of a few buttons on her desk, the exotic physics that contained me had changed. I was now encased in a man-sized, pink bubble of semi-tangible energy, and I was sent shooting down a side tunnel with a slit-like opening suspicious in its design. I got my first glimpse of the true Coit'ii. More

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