FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

_ Chapter Four _

The large wolf passively watched as the black sedan pull into the driveway of the farmhouse, idly adjusting his tie as he waited for the car to stop. Inwardly playing a game, wondering what sort of girl the Senator had picked out for the wolf to train. He doubted it would be a lioness -- big cats tended to have too much pride in their species to allow others to be enslaved. Likely a feline of some sort, though. Perhaps a tiger or panther.

As for his other slave, the mule girl had been put away for now, left to languor in the barn where she was given relatively free range within the wooden confines. He needed to set the perfect atmosphere in the training of a more high-class female, and having that abuse whore around would certainly set the wrong tone.

"Training slaves for government officials now," The gray wolf muttered to himself, half amused. "And my parents said there was no future in this profession."

Once the car pulled to a stop the door opened, a small figure behind the wheel. It was a rabbit that stepped out of the driver's seat, an official-looking little male wearing a navy-blue suit. Round glasses held on the bridge of his muzzle, long ears laid back neatly behind his head as if it were a hairstyle. A clipboard in paw he approached the wolf, rigid steps indicative of a stick up his ass and the humorless expression on his stout muzzle just reinforcing that appearance. This was clearly a political fellow. No slaver would be this uptight.

"Mr. Antony," The rabbit began, adjusting his glasses as he looked over the paper on the clipboard, flipping through a couple as he went on. "I have here the directives, as laid out by the Senator. I will be your liaison through the entirety of the contractual terms." With that, the smaller male handed the clipboard to the wolf.

"Nice to meet you, Mr...?" The wolf prompted, beginning to go over the 'directives'. Rather standard stuff. Sexual training, manners, household cleaning.

"Mr. Simmons." Was the reply, the shorter male already walking back towards the sedan to open the backdoor for someone. Looks like small talk was not penciled in on his daily agenda.

The feline -- a Siamese to be exact -- that stepped out was garbed only in a simple summer dress, but she completely stunning nonetheless. The girl stood only around five and a half feet, much of that height was her gracefully slender legs. Breasts were full, although on the small side. Not surprising, the feline couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen years old by the wolf's estimations. Her muzzle was elegant, though subdued at the moment. Most Siamese had darker brown framing their features, this specimen instead had a dark copper tone that softly trailed into the white fur. Perfectly-shaped ears held at the ideal angle for felines of her breed, something that only a master of the craft would have picked up on.

Furthermore, she wasn't in any sort of bindings or collar. The wolf pondered when was the last time a new slave started their training without anything binding them. As she and the rabbit approached, he still couldn't think of the last occasion.

"I am here to serve and learn, Master." She spoke the moment the pair came to a stop. The feline's words held a soft accent to them. An accent he couldn't exactly place, though that is not surprising -- a Senator would not want a locally-captured or bred female for his son. That can, and often does, lead to lineage issues further down the road for powerful, public males.

"I see." The wolf remarked dryly, wondering just who taught her the correct words to use without anything reinforcing it. To a highly skilled ear her words were fake. There was nothing behind them other than lip service. Gabriel hated dishonesty, trained or otherwise.

"If you're all set..." Adjusting his glasses again, the rabbit looked up at the taller male with an expression of needing to be elsewhere for some important matter.

"Believe I am, yes. If anything comes up I did see your number among the papers, and will be sure to reach out." Gabriel replied, wondering how dire the situation would have to become before he contacted the stuck-up rabbit.

"Good. I will inform the Senator everything is in order. Goodbye." Parting words monotone, not even looking at the female before going back to the obvious government issued sedan.

"That must have been a fun-filled ride." The slaver muttered lightly to himself, placing his paw on the silent girl's back to guide her inside.

***

He brought the passive feline into his living room, the furnishings being anything but rural. Just because he enjoyed having a farm for the space it provided did not mean he wished to live like a farmer. Modern art pieces decorated the walls, and along with the widescreen TV and other electrics made the home--from the inside, at least--look like a city penthouse.

"You are taking this oddly well." He remarked candidly, turning to face her and keeping a light tone with the girl.

"I live only to serve." The feline spoke in her soft voice, submissively bowing her head.

The wolf's eyes narrowed at that, paw flexing beside him. He wanted to smack her across the muzzle for this false showing of submission, but that would have been entirely unfair. The girl was repeating the lines some oaf told her to spout out, likely out of fear.

"Smart girl. You likely saw what was happening to the females around you, wondered why you remained untouched. Unbeaten." The male began, placing a heavy, reassuring paw on her shoulder -- different styles for different slaves, after all. "Someone told you to be polite? Perhaps that would spare you from the fate of those around."

"N-No... I... I only want to serve... To be a good slave for my Master..." Her soft tone broke slightly, visibly not sure what to do in this situation.

"Let us not get on the wrong foot her, my girl." He played up the compassionate angle, giving her shoulder a squeeze underneath his paw.

The feline swallowed heavily, her beautiful features looking much more young now as she began to tremble. She finally gave a small nod.

"As I said -- smart girl. So, why keep with the act? You didn't try to run away, and I'm sure you had plenty of chances while in the car."

"I..." She stopped, apprehensively looking up at the tall, broad wolf. He was old enough to be her father, and dressed like such a respectable male. Wide feline eyes watering, somehow reassured by the heavy, overwhelmingly large touch of the wolf, a touch that seemed caring to the young girl. Naivety was such a useful thing. "T-They told me I would be cared for. A..." She stumbled on the words, swallowing again, "A private slave. I wouldn't have to work in a brothel, or with a lot of males."

Studying her body language and tone, the wolf came to the remarkable conclusion she was telling the truth. This lithe creature had so quickly come to accept her fate, now only wanting to make that fate seem less horrible. The mental training only had to consist of teaching her to enjoy the life she would be leading. Not having to break her first means so much less work. So much, in fact, he had a brief tinge of guilt over what he was charging the Senator.

Patting her on the head -- his paw seeming quite large in the act -- the wolf brought the clipboard back up as he sat in a large recliner, flipping through the pages to look over the finer details. Virgin, not that surprising, though there was no instruction to keep her as such. That omission made the wolf smile lightly to himself. It wasn't often he got excited about fucking a female, jaded as he was, but this would be like mounting a storybook princess. She had been chemically made sterile. Again, not surprising; however he knew of multiple breeders that would have wept openly if they found that out and saw the female. As a breeding sow she would have been worth millions.

"Well," The wolf began, looking back at the slave as he leaned back in the chair. Her face looked worried, elegant tail wrapping nervously around her slender waist. "I am to be your teacher in that," His choice of terminology carefully chosen. 'Teacher' sounds so much better than 'trainer' when trying to gain a naive slave's trust. "You will live here with me for the time being. My rules are relatively simple. No lying, always do your tasks to the best of your abilities, and my word is law."

The Siamese gave a little nod, unconsciously shuffling her footpads on the ground, moving closer to him. The stern, older wolf was the only recent male that had spoken to her like this, without any threats or downright contempt. In her frightened state he was the 'good guy', the one that would keep her in this warm home, and not in a cold steel cage.

Noticing her trust already, Gabriel couldn't believe his luck. He was being handed a work of art to turn into a masterpiece. The Senator's people must have very deep connections to have found her. Even untrained she was worth more than his last dozen trained slaves put together. And once properly educated, well, that value would be awe-inspiring.

Dull claw tapped against the clipboard as he thought, ostensibly reading the paperwork. A plan of action was being concocted. His loins were telling him to unwrap the pretty little thing now and get to work, but his devotion to the craft of training won out in the end.

"Get some sleep." He said finally, looking at her. "Up the stairs and to the right, it's a small guest quarters. Sleep in there tonight. Set the alarm to five, and when you wake up familiarize yourself with the kitchen and the rest of the home. I will expect breakfast waiting when I rise at nine." A rather important task considering he sent his cook and maids to live in the smaller adjacent house for the time being.

"Y-Yes..." The feline stuttered out, surprised by this amount of kindness shown, "Master... " She added quickly, "Yes, Master." Her head bowed, tail slowly unwinding from her waist before walking up the stairs, her natural grace apparently something that was an entirely unconscious behavior to the teenager.

"Soft paw, and a soft touch with some of them." The wolf muttered to himself once she was gone, reciting the adage his teacher would tell the then-apprentice so many years ago. "You can't carve marble with a sledgehammer."

***

The wolf actually woke up at eight thirty, giving himself plenty of time to appear fully awake -- a new slave shouldn't see her Master stumbling down the stairs. When he finally did descend to the living area -- lured partly by the smells of meat flooding his senses -- the wolf arched a curious brow. The feline stood there, still wearing the same summer dress, a spatula held tightly, nervously, in both paws as she looked up at the male. Behind her the table was set with a king's feast of cooked breakfast meats, far more food than he could ever eat.

"I didn't..." She swallowed, looking over her shoulder to the abundance of food she had cooked. "I didn't know what you wanted. I know wolves like mostly meat, so I made that. But I didn't know what kinds you wanted." The speed of her rambling increasing with every word coming out of her muzzle. "Or how you wanted it prepared. Please don't be angry... "

Wordlessly he stepped beside the anxious kitten, looking down at the table. Four of the plates were heaped with bacon, all cooked at varying degrees of 'doneness'. Another four with sausages, again according to how crisp they were. And that was only a small sampling of the plates laid out. Amused didn't even begin to express how funny he found this, though he kept a straight muzzle as he picked up a piece of bacon, scratching the back of his neck with the unoccupied paw.

"I would rather you over-obey my orders then under-obey them." This was his fault, he knew. She was a trusting young girl who was now desperately sought his approval. What he wanted for breakfast was just as important as when he wanted breakfast.

The male walked around the table, picking out a couple of the plates, noticing her watching intently to figure out what to make tomorrow. Smart girl. Taking the ones to his preference the wolf finally sat down to begin eating peacefully, pulling up the morning newspaper to read over as he casually ate.

"Sit here." Gesturing to the floor beside him, not even bothering to look over to the feline.

She did so, resting on the ground side his chair like a pretty little housecat. Giving a soft purr as he stroked her hair, arching her neck and head against the wolf's smooth paw padding. Very relieved she was not in trouble for the over abundance of prepared food, and generally just wanting the approval of the older, respectable wolf.

He wasn't even on the third page of the paper and already the wolf was finding himself in a bad mood. The newspaper was notoriously supportive of the Anti Slavery Coalition. The ASC had recently begun getting funding from high profile actors and musicians, allowing them to widely publicize missteps by lesser skilled slavers. Full page article about some idiot who thought chemically lobotomizing females would make up for his lack of skill. This would mean even more money had to be spent in public relations. For every dollar the ASC spends, the Slaver's Guild has to spend ten just to fight back. They could do it cheaply, with actors and newspapers on their side. The situation seemed entirely unjust to the wolf.

"Morons." The wolf muttered, setting the paper aside.

"Master?" She looked up at him with big soulful eyes, timidly pressing her head up against his touch. House pet breeds instinctually tried to calm down those they trusted as their owner, whether that ownership was in a real legal sense, or even in a romantic relationship for non-slaves. It was not a socially acceptable thing to say in these days, but it was the truth.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, my pet." Folding the paper, he decided the 'news' was giving him with the wrong mindset for the day. "Come on my lap."

The Siamese blinked up at him, rising slowly to her feet. Her movements, normally naturally graceful, were at this moment slightly awkward as she climbed up on the big wolf's lap. The difference of sizes making her look even more like a child as she sat upon his thigh, not sure what she was supposed to do.

Her feline instinct kicked in the moment he began petting her again, delicate purrs starting up like a motor, resting her muzzle against his the broad chest of the male in contentment. Obviously it had been a while since she had actually felt safe, and in this warm home with such as strong, older male, that triggered a natural sense of security. No matter what lead up to her arriving at this point.

For the wolf's part, this was equally enjoyable. Running his paw along the girl's slender back, feeling just how willowy the feline truly was. Delicate and innocent, and remarkably trusting considering her circumstances. He wrapped his arm around her to surround the teenager, which in turn just made the girl purr even more, legs curling up in his lap fully.

The coarse fur of slightly-bent knuckles of one paw smoothed across the feline's tremendously soft fur along her ankle, sliding under the simple fabric of the summer dress. Soon he petted along the outside of her thigh, before gradually moving to more intimate parts of her leg and marveling at how downy the feline's pelt was. He proceeded leisurely, though confidant in his desire to touch her as he wished. The girl's discomfort in his bold actions causing her to squirm lightly, though not trying to escape -- a good sign.

She was getting antsy about such an intimate touch, and the accomplished slaver knew enough to keep her mind busy with something else. Unoccupied paw took the delicate muzzle of the girl, lifting it upwards as he kissed her. She was, of course, unpracticed; the wolf's larger tongue controlling the embrace as she clumsily attempted to follow along. The roughness of the feline tongue pleasantly raking across the smooth canine one, quivering mid-lick when feeling the wolf's knuckle gliding along her untouched slit below.

The slaver went slow with her, wanting this to be a pleasant, perhaps even romantic experience for the girl. This would set the tone for all future training, and it had to go perfectly. Failure here would mean, perhaps, weeks of rebuilding. She was trusting, not stupid. And regaining that trust is difficult, to say the least.

Feeling the subtle moisture beneath his fur the wolf noted how well her body reacted to such a carnal touch. He kept her mind occupied with the slow, passionate embrace of their muzzles. Smoothness of his claw beginning to slide through her folds and tenderly brushing along her sensitive nub, causing the girl to shudder in his arms and gasp against his broad muzzle.

Gradually he built up that touch, skillfully showing her body the heights of pleasure that even a single claw could give. Rhythmically he began to add pressure, her small rump squirming down against his groin with the new sensations that filled her body. It was one of the most innocently arousing things Gabriel had ever experienced, and took all his professional willpower not to throw her over the table with a snarl and fuck her with all the force of an Alpha.

Soon her tongue trembled against his own, unable to even follow the movements any longer. After a moment she had to break the kiss, crying out in a sweat moan, gripping the button-down shirt of the wolf tightly to bury her head against his chest. The young feline unconsciously beginning to let out the more feral side of her psyche in short mews, even panting quietly. Elegant feline tail wrapped around his arm, as if wordlessly pleading with the male to not stop. The warmth of her breath felt rushing over the fabric as she yowled in climax, eyes closed tightly, paws gripping his shirt into a wrinkled mess.

"Such a good girl." The wolf praised, holding the little feminine bundle against him as the feline breathed heavily.

She tensed in mild pain at each touch of her folds after the release, her body becoming overly sensitive the moments after feeling that rush. Not looking to hurt the girl, he slid his paw from under her dress, presenting it before her scrunched face.

"Taste yourself." It was an order, no denying that.

The Siamese's eyes opened slowly, looking up at the claw above her, glossy with her arousal. There wasn't much moisture there, but still an act she never thought of actually doing before. Nonetheless, tentatively, she lifted her muzzle to give the claw a lick. The musky taste didn't bother her, but the lewdness of the act caused her to instantly bury her muzzle back against his chest, hiding her small, blushing face in embarrassment.

"Pleasure," The wolf began, cleaning his claw off on her fur before petting her again. "The most base of all feelings. Hatred, pain, sadness, and even love -- all of them are wiped out by pleasure, even if for a time. That is what makes it so powerful, so needed. A drug, almost."

The feline was listening -- he could tell by the twitching of her ear, even if she was too self-conscious to pull her muzzle back from his shirt.

"Whatever view you have on what being a slave means, you are likely incorrect. It is not about doing things you hate, crying at night because of it. Being a slave means fulfilling a purpose, finding joy in that purpose. It means not having to worry about anything other than your Master." The wolf stroked along her spine as he went on, enjoying giving these verbal lessons. "It's pure, simple. It's the safety and protection that everyone seeks, but almost never finds. Never having to worry about bills, or rent, or anything else of the modern world."

Slowly she unburied her muzzle, looking up at him with a gaze so trusting it nearly made the jaded male melt for a moment.

"I do not want you to believe those words simply because I said them." He went on, looking back down at her with a strict, compassionate expression on his muzzle. "You will experience it firsthand, and come to a realization how correct I was."

The feline didn't reply, she simply lifted her muzzle up and began to quietly groom under the male's muzzle with pleasant swathes of that rough feline tongue, the coarse wolf fur standing up before being straightened back down with another pass.

"I want to learn." Her words were soft, earnest. The feline then going back to that affectionate bathing of the older wolf, beginning to purr once more.