A Private Heaven

by StormKitty

This story and its characters are copyright © 2002 by StormKitty.

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Any resemblance to actual persons, their furry personas, or characters in other works of fiction is unintentional and coincidental.

This story is a work of fiction that contains acts of consensual BDSM sex between adult furries (anthropomorphic animals), and is not intended for minors. If you are under 18, are offended by works of this type, or are located in a jurisdiction where such material is unlawful, do not read it. The author assumes no responsibility for failure to comply with the preceding statement.

Please do not post to a mailing list, newsgroup, website, or archive without first obtaining permission from the author. Works of art based on characters or scenes from this story are permitted and encouraged.

Blurb (what might appear on the back cover if this were a published novel):

Kirin the lynx and Chama the ocelot were inseparable when they grew up together. But Kirin hasn't seen her best friend since Chama sold herself as a pleasure slave to pay off a family debt. Now being reunited for the first time in several years, Chama reveals that she has a pleasure slave of her own, a red fox named Travis, whom she is giving to Kirin for the duration of her week-long visit. By the end of the visit, Kirin will learn some surprising things about Chama, Travis, and especially herself.

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Prologue

Chama and I were best friends as far back as I can remember. We grew up together, went to school together, had countless sleepovers together, and shared all of our joys and sorrows with one another along the way. We were both third children, which in my family was youngest but in hers meant she had four younger siblings. Spots and Tufts, our parents often called us; she an ocelot and I a lynx, we were inseparable. We had our first sexual experience together during one of those sleepovers, as I'm sure many of our peers did when they came of age. But even after we developed an interest in boys and began sharing with each other all of our romantic and sexual escapades with the opposite sex, we continued to have the occasional tryst with each other.

Unfortunately, the time came when we had to go separate ways. My family, though not rich, always lived a comfortable existence, and when I left to go to college, Chama's family fell on financial hard times. Chama loved her family dearly and tried to help any way she could, even resorting to prostitution to help pay the bills. But when her father was struck ill and spent a month in the hospital, the hospital bills together with his inability to work motivated her to make the ultimate sacrifice for her family. She sold herself as a pleasure slave. I went on to graduate from college and land a well-paying job in our hometown of Cragmoor, but couldn't help feeling a little guilty whenever I thought about her and about how differently our lives had turned out. For a while I thought I would never see her again, and truth be told, I was a little afraid of what I would find if I did.

Until recently, that is. All that changed when I had a chance encounter with Roald, her younger brother. Though he often annoyed Chama and me when we were younger, he was an adult now and we had a very pleasant conversation. He told me the family had recovered financially, but more important for me, he was back in touch with Chama and gave me her phone number. I called her that night and we spent about two hours on the phone. We talked like we always had when we were younger, and by the end of the conversation it felt like we'd never been apart. I told her about various happenings from the last several years of my life - my college years, my job, my love interests, and so forth. Chama now lived in Port Shelton, a small city on the coast that had some high-tech industries and drew a fair bit of tourist traffic. She said she was happy with where she was in her life now but didn't say much about what all had happened in the interim, and I didn't ask, thinking she'd tell me when she was ready.

I wasn't sure what to think until she called about a month later and invited me to come stay with her. I told her I'd be delighted to. "And when you get here, I've got a nice surprise for you," she told me. I didn't give it much further thought and had nearly forgotten about it by the next day at work where I put in for a week's vacation.

Saturday

The four-hour journey from Cragmoor went by quickly. Port Shelton has numerous oddly angled and narrow one-way streets, so I was thankful that the directions she gave me took me straight to the High Street address she gave me. I wasn't expecting anything fancy and was relieved to see that it wasn't a run-down area, but hadn't really considered that she might live in a business district. Most of the buildings on this block and the next had either storefront windows or shingles hanging out in front of them. Two doors down was a bakery and coffee shop, and across the street was an art dealer. There was an office supply store, a hair salon, and several professional offices - accountants, doctors, lawyers. Some of these were originally older homes, with picket fences along the front sidewalk, while many of the newer buildings were designed to match the style of the older ones. I knew Port Shelton was a tourist town and I was looking forward to exploring it during my visit, but this part of town evidently catered primarily to local residents.

The address Chama had given me was a villa with a long sloping roof up to dormer windows set back on the second floor. About three-fourths of the front was taken up by a lawyer's office. I read the words "Thomas B. Graydon - Attorney at Law" painted in gold lettering on the front window above the bar association logo. It being a Saturday, the office was closed. To the left was another door, the one Chama's directions indicated, so I rang the doorbell. Less than five seconds later, the door opened, and there stood Chama, looking as if she had run to answer it. "Kirin!"

"Chama! It's so good to see you." We pounced on each other and hugged profusely. "Did you have any trouble finding the place?"

"None at all." I looked her over. Somehow, I had supposed that being a pleasure slave would degrade one's appearance, but Chama looked none the worse for wear. If anything, she looked better than ever.

She showed me where to park and helped me bring my luggage inside. Fifteen minutes later we were sitting at her table, eating sandwiches and sipping wine coolers. As we chatted, I looked around the place. The kitchen, though not particularly large, was well equipped and stocked. A sliding door led outside to a small patio with a flower garden, overshadowed by neighboring buildings. Everything in the living and dining rooms, from the china cabinet to the large screen TV to the pictures hanging on the walls, spoke of affluence. There was still the upstairs, which I hadn't seen yet. One door that apparently led into the lawyer's office looked as if it were permanently closed. "Who's the lawyer up front?"

"He's my landlord. Great guy. I'm sure you'll get to meet him while you're here."

I glanced around again. "Chama, this is a really nice place you've got here. How on earth did you come out so well?"

She gave me a thoughtful look. "I was planning to show you next week, probably Monday. You don't mind waiting a couple of days, do you?"

I pondered this a moment. "I guess not. Just promise me you won't keep any secrets from me for long."

"I promise."

"Okay."

She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. "Just relax and enjoy yourself. And speaking of promises, it's time to bring out that surprise I promised you."

"Bring it on."

Chama arose and went upstairs. I heard footsteps through the ceiling, and a moment later, she descended the stairs. Right behind her was a male red fox, about average height and build for a fox, who appeared clean and well groomed. Most notably, however, he was wearing nothing but a breechcloth. And a collar. My eyes must have nearly popped out. He gave me a brief glance, which he quickly averted downward. Chama motioned to him, and he knelt on the floor between our seats. "Kirin, I'd like you to meet Travis, my pleasure slave. Travis, this is Kirin."

"Pleased to meet you," he said, as he smiled and held out his hand.

I shook it. My eyes went back and forth between them in disbelief. "You... have a pleasure slave?" With everything else I saw about the place, and now this, it was just too much. Now I was more curious than ever to find out how she had come to this lifestyle.

"Back when I was a pleasure slave, I thought it might be nice to have one of my own someday, so when an opportunity arose, I took advantage of it." She looked down at him. "He's a good slave, too. I've been very pleased to have him." The words were almost a purr.

"Well... I suppose you have a lot of fun with him." I must have sounded like an idiot, but I didn't know what else to say.

"Oh, of course I do. There's nothing else quite like having someone you can use for your own pleasure, any way you like."

I just nodded. I could hardly believe I was hearing Chama talk like this.

"So, Kirin, what I'm doing with him this week is giving him to you. Any way you want to be pampered, pleasured, or entertained, Travis is yours to command."

My jaw was somewhere beneath the floor. My mouth moved, but no sound came out. Chama's grin was almost predatory, and even Travis seemed to find my incoherence amusing. "W... Wh... Wha... Isn't he... yours? Don't you..?"

"Kirin, don't worry about me. I have Travis to myself most of the time, so it's not as if I'm missing out on anything by letting you have him for a few days. It would be ungracious of me not to share him with you."

"Chama, you really don't have to..."

"I like it when my slave entertains others. It's one of the best parts of having a pleasure slave. Don't tell me you've never fantasized about having a lover who will do anything you wish. One you can do anything to you like." Chama ran her fingers through the fur on his head between his ears. "He'll take very good care of you." She drew her hand across his shoulder and down through the fur on his chest languorously. Travis didn't flinch. "He's very fit." She reached down with her other hand to squeeze his buttocks. "And if I may say so, he is quite talented in the use of his... assets." Her hand strayed out along his perfectly groomed tail, which emerged through a split in the back of the breechcloth.

I took a couple of deep breaths. "Chama, I once swore I'd never have anything to do with pleasure slaves after one of my friends became one. The only reason I'm even considering this is because you are that friend." That, and the fact that turning her down would mean I probably couldn't stay, and might be the end of our friendship.

Travis looked up at Chama and something passed between them in that instant before he resumed his subservient posture. "I can't deny that there is a dark side to the practice of pleasure slavery. I've been one, and I've seen things and done things you probably never imagined. At least slaves nowadays are citizens with some rights. It's not like centuries past when slaves were nothing more than property."

She stopped a moment while I pondered her words. She continued. "There is a lot to a good master/slave relationship, and speaking as a former slave, I know how to treat one. Travis here has been mine for almost three years now and we know each other pretty well. I know what he's capable of, I know what his limits are, he knows what's expected of him, and I know how he feels about being a slave. So please believe me when I tell you he'll be happy to have you as his mistress for as long as you're visiting. In fact, he's been looking forward to it. Right, Travis?"

He looked at me, and something inside me started melting. "Yes, Kirin, I will be pleased to serve you during your visit."

The more I thought about it, the more I was warming up to the idea. My first thought had been that perhaps the last few years had changed my friend in more ways than I had realized, but if our other conversations up to this point were anything to go by, she was still the same person I had grown up with, and my gut feeling was that in a matter of pleasure slaves, I could trust her judgment.

I studied Travis. Subordinate though he was, I didn't see any fear or overt humility in his posture. And he was quite an attractive red fox. His face, from the tufts of his ears to the tip of his muzzle, with those sparkling green eyes between, had a smile that could turn heads. The rest of his body looked very fit, as Chama had mentioned, and the thought of those 'assets' she had mentioned earlier gave me a tingle between the legs.

I walked over beside him and ran my hand through the fur on his neck down to his elbow, savoring its softness, the firm muscle beneath, and the warmth radiating from his skin. I put my hand under his muzzle and lifted it up, looking into those eyes. He had a gentle smile, and that something inside me finished melting. "Okay, I'll take him."

"I knew you would," purred the ocelot. "Okay, he's all yours. Please, enjoy him any way you like. Travis," she said, turning to him, "please take Kirin's luggage upstairs and show her to her room."

I got a nice view of his ass as he carried my suitcases up the stairs ahead of me. Once I tore my eyes away from it, I observed that there were five doors in the upstairs hallway, one of which was probably a closet. One room we passed appeared to be Chama's office and another had some fitness equipment. When we entered the room at the end of the hall, my eyes nearly popped out. It was nothing short of a luxury suite, complete with a king size bed, wet bar, and a full bath with a large soaking tub. And the view out the window of central Port Shelton sloping down to the sea was spectacular.

Chama entered behind me as Travis placed the luggage on the dresser. "Would you like me to unpack your things for you?" he asked.

"Sure," I said without much thought. I usually lived out of my suitcase whenever I traveled, but what the heck. A moment later, however, I began to flush with embarrassment as he carefully placed my lingerie, some of it quite racy, into one of the drawers.

Chama must have noticed. "Don't worry," she said. "He'll probably see you in it before you leave." My ears must have gone about three shades redder at that statement, but Chama was already looking elsewhere. "I bet you'll put that to good use," she said, gesturing toward the soaking tub, which was long and wide enough for two to stretch out in and deep enough to sit in up to my neck.

"I was already planning on it," I replied.

"You'll enjoy having Travis scrub the day's worries out of your fur." But of course, I thought. I was used to giving myself a bath and hadn't quite put two and two together. This is scary, I thought, but that tingle between my legs was getting stronger too. Seeing the thoughtful look on my face, Chama continued. "Travis is anxious to please, and I think a bath would be a good way to get you two off to a good start." I followed her out to the hall. "This is my room," she said, indicating the room opposite the stairs. It was almost as nice as mine, though it lacked the soaking tub. I suspected the room she gave me was normally her room. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

She placed a hand on my arm and looked at me. "You can do almost anything you want with Travis, but I need to mention a couple of rules. I don't think they'll limit your choices much. First, you can't alter his appearance. No shaving or dyeing his fur, in case you're into that sort of thing, or leaving any marks on his head. Second, he does have a safeword..."

"A safeword?"

"You know, something he says when..."

"I know what a safeword is. Do you think I'd ever do anything to make him use it?"

"It's 'pumpkin', and I'd be very surprised if you did, but I had to mention it just in case. Finally, Travis and I have some other commitments during the week, so there will be time periods when I'll need him back. The first one isn't until Monday morning, so he's all yours for the rest of the weekend."

"Okay," I replied. I had no idea what sort of commitments a pleasure slave might have but let the question slide. If she wanted me to know, she'd tell me.

"Oh, one more thing I almost forgot. Don't plan to take him out in public with you just yet. You'll be able to do that later in the week, but until you've had a couple of days with him it would be best if you kept him here at home."

"No problem," I said. Though I hadn't yet had much of a chance to think about what I might want to do with Travis, none of these rules prohibited anything I'd thought about so far.

We peered back in my room, where Travis had finished emptying my luggage which he had also put away somewhere. "What else can I do for you, Mistress?" he asked. His voice was almost a purr.

My eyes explored his body again, knowing my hands would be doing the same later on. "I think I'd like to just sit and talk with Chama for now."

He came down and fixed himself some lunch while Chama and I sat and talked. She mentioned that masters sometimes spoon-feed their slaves and she occasionally did, but she had wearied of the practice after doing it almost every meal for nearly a month after his doctor said he was a few pounds over his ideal weight.

"Mistress Kirin, is there anything I can get you?" asked the fox.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Something to drink? A foot rub?"

I shrugged. "I'm not used to having a slave."

There was a long pause as he and Chama exchanged another look. "Travis, perhaps it would be best if you go easy on her at first."

His ears flicked. "Yes, ma'am." He turned to me. "In that case, may I go upstairs and exercise?" asked Travis.

I turned to Chama. "Does he normally ask for permission for things like this?"

"No. He knows what he doesn't need to ask my permission for."

"Then why is he asking me?"

"Because you're his mistress now."

I looked back at Travis. "Okay. From now on, whatever Chama would normally allow is fine with me."

He seemed pleased with that answer as he turned and ascended the stairs. "Okay, so he's mine for the week, but I still don't know what I'm going to do with him. What do you suggest?"

Chama shrugged. "Travis would prefer that you decide on your own what you want to do with him. That way it's more personalized. He feels more like he's doing what you really want instead of what I would want." She paused as I took this in. "I think you'll get plenty of ideas soon enough, but if you really do get stuck, ask me again and I'll give you some suggestions."

I just nodded.

"I'll give you a couple of pointers. His tongue is amazing," she purred, drawing out the last word.

"Already thought of that one," I whispered back. I didn't have to ask where she was referring to him using it.

"And the exercise room upstairs is also our 'playroom'. Feel free to rummage around in that room. There's plenty of gear up there and you're welcome to use any of it."

"Okay." While I intended to put the exercise room to good use, I had a feeling not all of the 'gear' she was referring to was for that purpose. "This is all so unexpected," I exclaimed, and let out a sigh. There was one other worry about the situation that nagged at the back of my mind. "It was you I came to see. Are we..? I mean, will it be a problem with him, too..." I couldn't think how to phrase it.

She leaned over and placed her hands on mine. "Don't worry. We've got the whole week and we'll have lots of time to spend together."

I grinned at her. "Aren't you afraid I'll want to spend all my time with him?"

"I know you better than that," she chuckled. "I prefer to think the time you spend with Travis will improve the quality of the time you spend with me." She sat back. "Anytime you want to do something with Travis, just say the word. You can close the door and I'll turn on the radio and leave you guys alone. Whatever you do, I won't ask, and it's up to you if you want to tell. Travis will respect your wishes."

"On my way up I was thinking about some of the stuff we used to do when you slept over."

"We can do some of that, too, with or without Travis."

Our conversation moved on to other subjects. It was similar yet different from when we were younger. We were still Spots and Tufts, just more grown up versions of ourselves. Instead of talking about sneaking to the refrigerator at night to steal a sip from our parents' bottle of wine, we talked about whether we liked chardonnay or white zinfandel better.

* * *

Later that afternoon I was ready for that soak in the tub. Travis was waiting for me, wearing only the shorts he had worked out in, and his musk was stronger. He turned on the water and asked me adjust the temperature. He stepped out of the way for me to do this, and when I turned back around he had removed his shorts. I hadn't expected him to do this yet since it would take a few minutes for the tub to fill. There were butterflies in my stomach as I looked him over, anxious yet afraid to explore that body with my hands.

"Mistress Kirin, does my nakedness bother you?" he asked.

I gave him a wry smile. "Yes, it does. Go put a hat on or something."

I'm sure he knew I was joking; nevertheless, he fetched a fedora from the closet and returned, wearing it.

"That's better," I said, stifling a giggle, and he smiled at me. "I'm sorry. I've never had a pleasure slave before. I'm a little nervous."

"That's understandable. Just relax and have fun with me."

"Okay." I took a deep breath, then began running my hands over his fur, starting at his neck and moving down to his shoulders, feeling the muscle. "Do you mind if I explore you a little bit?"

"Not at all. That's your privilege, Mistress."

My hands continued down to his upper arms, then across to the much lighter fur of his chest. I was enjoying the sensation on my fingers, and he didn't flinch when I gently used my claws. I purred, glancing briefly at his face. I wasn't examining him; I was savoring him. Travis seemed to be enjoying my attentions, and he had a magnetism about him that was melting my inhibitions. I was surprising myself with how quickly I was getting used to the idea of having him as my plaything. Kneeling down, I drew my head closer to his chest and sniffed.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he said. "I didn't get a chance to clean up after my workout."

"I like the way you smell," I murred, taking another deep breath with my nose pressed into his chest fur. My hands moved around to his back and explored their way downward. I stopped just before reaching his tail and moved down to his thighs. More muscle. Up to his behind, which I squeezed gently, noting its firmness, then put one hand loosely around his tail, drawing my hand along it and feeling the fur pass through my hand. The head of his cock was peeking out of its velvety sheath, his balls dangling behind them. I took another deep breath as I was working up the courage to touch this most private part of him for the first time...

"Mistress, I need to turn off the water."

I backed off. The fox went over and turned the faucet off, then faced me. "May I help you remove your clothing?"

He helped me slip out of my blouse and my shorts, then I took my panties off myself. Like most felids, I seldom wore a bra except during exercise or sports, and then only sometimes. I felt a little bashful as my body was exposed to him for the first time. Others tell me I'm quite attractive, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted this fox to keep his gaze politely averted, or keep looking and admire my body. I looked at him, and a slight cant of the ears seemed to betray that he liked what he saw, but he appeared focused on the task of bathing me.

I stepped into the tub. The water came up to my thighs, and I enjoyed the sensation as I began to sink down into it. "How is the water?" asked Travis. "There's room to add a little if you want it a little hotter or cooler."

"Cooler, please." I lowered myself onto a molded seat and was in nearly up to my chest.

"Do you want me to wash everywhere?" he asked. Unsure what he meant, I didn't answer right away. "I mean," he continued, "are there any parts of you you'd rather wash yourself?"

"Oh," I replied. After a brief deliberation, I pushed aside my inhibitions. "No, please wash everywhere."

He set the hat aside and started on my neck, using his fingers and claws to work the soap into my fur to the skin. I imagined he had done this to Chama many times and wondered how different my thick, fluffy fur felt to him compared to her sleek, smooth coat. He did my back next, then my arms down to my hands, being gentle but thorough as he cleaned between my fingers and pressed my claws out to clean. Then he started down my front. His touch was gentler on my breasts. I gasped with pleasure when he reached my nipples, and part of me wanted him to keep rubbing them, but he didn't, moving on to my stomach.

He asked me to change position, as I'd already done a couple of times to give him easy access to whatever part of me he was working on. I stood and spread my legs a little. The fox continued down my stomach to my hips, toward that region of my body that had me almost trembling in anticipation. I'd washed myself enough times to know how many folds and crevices there were. As with everything else this bath, Travis was thorough, which meant working his fingers inside my cunt and back and forth across my clit a couple of times. He must have noticed when my knees wobbled and I let out a gasp of pleasure. Again, he didn't linger, moving around to my rear and my tail. I had always envied Chama for her long tail, but she had always told me to be happy my short one didn't get in the way nearly as much as hers. He did my thighs from the waterline up. Even in my anal region he was thorough, surprising me when he slid a fingertip a little ways inside.

Travis washed his hands at the sink before continuing, asking me to recline and put my legs up. This I did, and he washed the rest of my legs and feet, giving my feet the same treatment he had given my hands. At last, there was my head and face. I had to keep my eyes and mouth closed for part of this, and found myself wondering what part of me he was looking at while I did. He was gentle on my ears, pausing a moment to stroke the tufts.

"Am I your first lynx?" I asked him.

"Yes," the fox replied. "Chama told me your nicknames. Spots and Tufts."

"She's certainly the one with the spots."

"You have spots too."

"Just a few. Not like the big, beautiful ones she has all over."

"But she doesn't have tufts at all, and they're so lovely on you," he cooed as he continues to stroke them. The sensation was slightly ticklish.

"Did she tell you we were given those nicknames by each other's parents? They named us after whatever feature was most obvious that their own children didn't have."

"Yes, she told me that. She's mentioned you quite a bit, even before you called. It's nice to finally meet you and be your slave." He finished the outer ear and brought me swabs to clean inside the ear canal, explaining that it would be too risky for him to do it.

He turned on the shower and had me step in after checking the temperature, which I set cool since I was feeling a bit overheated from the tub. He joined me briefly to rinse his own fur where he had gotten soap on it. When it was all rinsed out, he turned off the water and began to rub his hands along my fur to squeeze out the excess water. We stepped out, where he had towels ready to absorb most of the rest, and offered to use a blow dryer. I declined, enjoying the cool sensation of the water evaporating from my fur. Then Travis got out some combs and brushes, and invited me to get comfortable as he began to brush out my fur. He was gentle and took his time, doing my entire pelt from head to toe and paying particular attention to the places where the fur was thickest, like my tail.

"Oh, wow, Travis, That was wonderful. I've never been treated this good in my life."

He smiled back at me. "Anything to make my Mistress feel good." But he wasn't finished yet. "Would you like a full body massage?"

I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't want to ask for too much too soon, but I had a feeling he would be disappointed if I refused. "I'd love one, but first, may I have something to drink?"

He named off the selection from the mini-fridge under the wet bar and told me a few other choices he could get from the kitchen downstairs. I chose tropical fruit juice, which I finished off after only a couple of minutes.

Other than being a little stiff from the drive up that morning, I wasn't particularly sore. Still, he managed to find several knots to work out of my muscles. What he did to my hands and feet was utterly divine. All the tension in my body melted away under his masterful hands. This fox had me moaning with pleasure without even getting me sexually aroused. Though he had done my back early on, he returned to it when he was done with the rest of me and gradually lightened his touch until it was nothing more than a light caress. Travis had gotten me so relaxed I felt like a puddle of goo on the bed.

"Shall I leave you alone now?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

"When is dinner?" I mumbled, finding it took effort to move my mouth.

"Let me check," he replied, and I heard him leave and return to the room. "Dinner will be in about an hour and a half."

"Fine. If I fall asleep, wake me up shortly before it's ready."

"As you wish, Mistress."

* * *

I did fall asleep, but awoke on my own less than an hour later. As I stretched and sat up, a familiar fox face peered in from the door. He was now wearing only a tight pair of shorts that showed off his rear and his package very nicely. It seemed just like Chama to have him dress this way around the house, but I wasn't about to complain. Mentally, I tried dressing him other ways, some of them really weird - leather tights, women's clothing - and shuddered at what Chama's reaction might be.

After getting dressed, I headed downstairs. "That was incredible," I said to Chama, referring to the bath and the massage.

"Yes, he is incredible," she replied with a slight twinkle, but left it at that. I remembered what she had said earlier about not asking, and I realized she didn't want me to worry about her reaction to something I might want to do with her fox. I really could dress him in women's clothing if I felt like it. I didn't intend to, but I could.

There wasn't much for me to help with in the kitchen, so I took Chama up on her earlier offer to see what was in the exercise room. There was the exercise equipment, of course, including a weight machine, an exercise cycle, and a stair climber, as well as a portable stereo and some discs. One wall was taken up entirely by cabinets and drawers with a counter. It was some of the stuff I found when I started looking through these that had my thoughts reeling. There was all manner of sex toys and bondage gear - cuffs, gags, spreader bars, clamps, vibrators, butt plugs, cock cages, chastity belts, and stuff I'd never seen the likes of before. A few items appeared to be rather sophisticated, such as a cock sheath that according to its instruction booklet had sensors built in to monitor the arousal level, a microchip to control the strategically placed vibrators, and a wireless remote control. Elsewhere I found lubricants, oils (including a small vial of cinnamon oil - I'd heard about that stuff), ropes and chains, cleaners, batteries and electrical adapters, timers and controllers, towels, and hooks and eye bolts that apparently fit holes in the walls and ceiling. A large closet was mostly taken up by additional exercise equipment and futons.

Had Chama actually used all of this stuff on Travis (or herself, since a few of the items were clearly designed for females)? And she had told me I was free to use any of it? Now the idea of dressing Travis as a woman seemed pretty tame by comparison. Recalling that Chama had been a pleasure slave, I supposed these were just the tools of the trade. Even so, it would probably take me the better part of the week to get up the nerve to use any of it. Aside from the regular exercise equipment, of course.

Chama shouted up the stairs that dinner was ready, so I collected my thoughts and came downstairs. We opened a bottle of wine and the three of us shared a nice dinner. Afterwards we sat in the living room and watched a couple of sitcoms. Travis sat near me and I would reach out periodically to stroke his head or leg or whatever part of him was in reach. Whenever Chama and I talked, he seemed fascinated by our conversation and while he would sometimes add a comment or ask a question, he usually kept quiet and listened. The incessantly polite, deferential manner he had been showing earlier would probably wear thin before long, and I was relieved to see more of the real person underneath starting to come out. Although this was the first time I'd been this close to a pleasure slave, I'd been around general labor slaves before and they'd always acted like regular people. Why should it be any different for a pleasure slave?

A part of me was anxious to get back to exploring Travis, but another part of me was hesitant, so I kept socializing with Chama. I think she sensed this because she made some excuse to go do something, leaving Travis and I alone. I shrugged off my hesitation and invited the fox up to my room.

"Now I can finish what I started earlier," I murmured as I began to run my hands through the fur on his neck, shoulders and chest. "No tub filling to interrupt us this time." As he stood before me, I studied the hands that had scrubbed out my fur and massaged me so well. I stepped around behind him and ran my fingers from the tip of his tail to the base, around to his sides and up to his chest. I heard him draw in a breath as I caressed his nipples, so I played with them for a minute, caressing and squeezing them.

When I came back around in front of him, I could see he was getting hard. The clothing most males wore most of the time was sufficient to conceal a moderate erection, but in the tight shorts he was wearing even a mild erection would be apparent, which was probably one reason Chama had him wear them. I unsnapped the shorts where the waistband joined over his tail, then pulled them to the floor. His arousal increased.

I had him lie on his back, and sat beside him. I wanted to save the best part of him for last so I studied his feet next, exploring between the pads with my fingers and discovering a couple of sensitive spots in the process. Then I moved up his legs, finding he was also sensitive behind the knees. His thighs looked to be the most well muscled feature of his body, and my touch confirmed that impression.

Finally, I caressed down between his legs, starting with the perineum. I moved up to his balls. His cock was at full attention by now, standing up out of the way as I gently teased the smooth skin covering his testes. I could see his eyes close and his breathing get heavier at my ministrations. And then, the grand prize. The base of the fox's cock was covered by what was the sheath when he was not erect, and was velvety soft to the touch. Further up was the smooth skin covering the bulbus glandis, more commonly referred to as the knot all canids were known for which would swell as he approached orgasm. Finally, there was the large pink head. I explored his cock, enjoying the texture of the skin, the warmth emanating from it, the thickness, the throbbing of his heartbeat I felt when I closed my hand around it, and especially watching his facial expressions and feeling his reactions as I explored it. It was not the biggest I had ever encountered - the lion attached to that one had an ego to match - but it was big enough to do the job very nicely.

I wasn't trying to tease, but my efforts seemed to be having that effect on Travis. His breathing was getting heavier, and when I pulled the skin tight and caressed the head lightly, I elicited a gasp and a squirm of the hips. "You like?"

"Uhnnn... Yes," he moaned.

I teased a little more, trying to find the more sensitive spots, expanding my search area. But when precum started to appear, I realized there was something else I wanted first. I ran my hands up his chest and looked him in the eye. "Travis, I know you gave me the bath and massage earlier, but are there some parts of me you'd like to explore more?"

"Yes, Mistress," he murred. "I'd like that."

I lay beside him on my back. "I'm all yours. Explore away." I took a deep breath and let it out. "Feel free to use your tongue."

He ran his hands over my neck and shoulders, giving me chills with his caresses. Soon his hands were on my breasts. He kneaded them gently, working his way in circles toward the nipples, which he caressed gently at first, then began to roll and squeeze between his fingertips. It was getting me pretty hot, but a sudden moan escaped me when I first felt his tongue on one of them. He would run the slightly rough topside of his tongue along a nipple, then draw it back along its slick underside. He could nearly curl that tongue around a nipple. He shifted to the other breast, replacing his tongue with his finger on the first. A couple minutes of this had me moaning loudly and squirming beneath him. For several minutes he kept it up, alternating which breast had his mouth on it and which had a hand.

Eventually, one hand wandered down to my pussy, which was drenched by now. He scooted lower on the bed and began exploring it with one hand. With the other, he reached behind me and starting caressing my tail, where he soon found a sensitive spot near the base that only one or two of my previous lovers had discovered. Working me over with both hands in this manner he soon had me bucking wildly. I could feel a huge orgasm welling up inside me, but he had other plans.

He repositioned himself, and I suddenly felt his nose probing the folds near my clit, followed seconds later by his tongue. I spread my legs wider for him. First, he breathed in the scent of my mound, then began working his tongue up and down either side of my slit. Gradually he moved inward, finding his way to my inner lips. Then at last I felt his tongue snaking its way into my channel, probing places no other tongue had ever reached before. "Mmmm, you taste good," Travis cooed to me between licks.

I was again nearing orgasm, but then he started avoiding my most sensitive spots, gently teasing me and holding me off. After I subsided a bit, that fox tongue was back on my clit, driving me wild with lust all over again. He kept this up for a while, bringing me to the edge, pulling back, lapping up all my juices, driving me to a frenzy, until I could take it no more. "Please, make me cum," I finally groaned at him.

"As you wish, Mistress," he replied. "One question, though."

"What?"

"Is this how you would like me to wake you up in the morning?"

I liked the idea anyway, but I must have sounded desperate. "Yes, please. Now just make me cum."

He did, and it didn't take long. Just as the orgasm hit, he again reached around and found that spot at the base of my tail. The sensation was indescribable. I must have cum for a full minute.

When I finally came back down to earth, I pushed Travis onto his back and stroked his prick once again. "My turn again. Are you ready for this, my foxie?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a glint in his eye.

I straddled his cock and lowered myself gently onto him. I slid my cunt back and forth along its length a few times, getting it slick with my juices, before I took the head inside me. I moved slowly, taking a little more of him each time, watching his eyes glaze, until I had him to the hilt. I stopped a moment to feel his chest fur and pinch his nipples while enjoying the full sensation of his cock inside me, then I leaned forward and began thrusting in earnest. He thrust back, and before long, I felt another orgasm building. As my thrusts became wilder, I could feel a change in his cock as his knot was swelling. This only added to the pleasure as my orgasm mounted. Finally, I exploded, cumming harder than before. While in the throes of pleasure, I saw his back arch as he moaned loudly and emptied his load inside me.

We both lay there panting for a couple of minutes. I could still feel the knot in his cock, but unlike a canid female for whom the response to keep her cunt muscle tight around it is involuntary, thus 'tying' them together, I was able to relax mine so he could slide out with little effort as I lifted off him. I slid down beside him as our breathing and our heartbeats came back down, basking in the afterglow.

"Good, hmmm?" I murmured

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied.

"I meant for you."

He paused and smiled. "Yes, it was."

"Where do you sleep?"

"On the floor, or here in bed if you like."

The bed was big enough for both of us to sleep in comfortably, even if we didn't stay next to each other, so I saw no reason to have him sleep elsewhere. I somehow found it comforting to have him with me.

As I drifted off to dreamland, the day's events played back through my mind. Before today I never would have considered being with a pleasure slave, and when Chama had introduced Travis to me, my initial thought was that I probably wouldn't do much with him, at least not right away. Yet within a matter of hours, we had seen each other naked, he had washed me all over, I couldn't resist savoring his body, and now, by the end of my first day, we had already done the deed. How had I let myself go so far in such a short time?

Travis never once seemed like he was just doing what was expected of him. This fox had been positively seductive in the manner in which he was ready to do anything for me, and as far as I could tell he was enjoying everything he did as much as I was, if not more. No wonder I hadn't felt any guilt.

And then there were those looks he and Chama exchanged. I was sure there were signals passing between them that I wasn't picking up on. But I didn't get much of a chance to puzzle over such thoughts before sleep claimed me.

Sunday

I awoke about 7:45, about fifteen minutes before I had told Travis to wake me if I wasn't up yet. I quietly used the bathroom and decided to feign sleep in anticipation of his promised method of awakening.

Sure enough, at 8:00 I heard him slip into the room and under the covers. He began lapping at my cunt, very gently at first, spreading the wetness already present with his tongue. It didn't take long before his ministrations caused me to drop all pretense of sleep, as he gradually increased his tempo and built me up. I came soon afterward.

I looked down at him. "I could get used to waking up like this."

He smiled back. "You were already awake, weren't you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You were pretty wet when I started."

"Okay, so my pussy betrayed me."

"Sometimes it knows what you want more than your mind does," he observed. An interesting remark, I thought. I wondered if the same could be said of his cock. Maybe that explained why Chama had him wear those tight shorts.

It was raining outside, which put a damper on my thoughts of seeing any of Port Shelton that day. Chama and I talked about some of the things we used to do during our sleepovers. In one of those old games, we would play cards, and after each deal, the loser had to perform cunnilingus on the winner. Chama suggested a variation in which Travis did the honors. We were seated on floor cushions at a low table, playing gin rummy. The fox was under the table, lapping at our exposed pussies in turn. After each hand we went on to the next as he worked on whichever of us had won the most recent hand, but he was not to give either of us an orgasm until we won three in a row. Each hand took about five minutes, and after about an hour, I had twice won two in a row and lost the third, leaving me hanging each time. Travis's unsolicited contribution to the game was that if we had won two deals and were working on the third, he would eat in the most teasing, distracting manner he could, making it harder to concentrate on the game. The first time I lost the third hand it hadn't been a very good deal anyway but the second time his teasing caused me to lose a hand I probably should have won. I figured his tongue must be getting pretty tired by now, and surely he realized that by teasing us like this he was only prolonging the game, but he wasn't showing any signs of slowing down, and if anything seemed to take pleasure in his role in causing the game to drag out. I finally won three in a row and received my long-delayed release. Being a good sport, I had him finish off Chama as well.

I asked Travis to help me work out, and invited him to get in his own workout while he was at it. We both dressed for it, and he said I could choose one of the discs to play in the stereo. There were several good ones, so I picked five and let him to choose one from among those. After some stretches and a warm-up, he helped me with the weights machine, coaching me through several lower body and a few upper body exercises. He did his own lifts between mine, advising me that it was not good to do too many too quickly without adequate recovery time between each apparatus. Then he set me up on the stair climber, attaching a couple of sensors to my finger pads and plugging the other end of the wire into the controller. This, he explained, would cause the machine to adjust its speed to keep me going near my target heart rate for as long as I wanted.

During all this, we talked. I found out Travis grew up in a small town near Jaspa, about a hundred miles from here. His tastes in music were quite eclectic, but when I pressed him for favorites, he gave jazz and classical. I finally felt like I was getting to know this fox as a well-rounded person, not just as a plaything.

"So, how did you end up becoming a pleasure slave?"

He sighed. "Mistress Chama asked me to let her answer that question."

Hit a wall again. At least they weren't hiding the fact that they weren't telling me everything. Maybe I could get something out of him with a little bit different angle. "What do you think of the practice of slavery?"

He didn't answer right away, and a dark cloud seemed to pass over his face.

"I'm sorry. Did I bring up something that's hard for you to talk about?"

Travis swallowed and cleared his throat. "Most slaves have a fair, decent existence, but there are things I've heard about, things I've seen..." His voice trailed off.

An unthinkable question crossed my mind, one I had to ask but didn't know how. I glanced briefly to one side, in the general direction where I supposed my friend was elsewhere in the house, trying to think how to broach the subject, or whether I should.

Travis was very observant. "You're wondering about Chama, aren't you?" I nodded. "She's the best. There's not anyone else I'd rather have as my mistress." There was no hesitation or hint of pretense in the way he said it.

Relief flooded over me. "Thank you. You read my mind."

The red fox smiled at me. At least if there were ghosts that haunted him to do with slavery, it was nice to know Chama wasn't one of them.

After a cool down and stretch, we showered together. We washed each other where we needed it most, and I felt like doing something nice for him to thank him for helping me with the workout and for pleasuring Chama and I earlier, so I jacked him off as we stood in the shower. I didn't object when he did the same to me, and he seemed to find it amusing when my knees gave way when I came and I had use the faucet handle to hold myself up.

We spent the afternoon downstairs with Chama, watching a movie and talking about things I could do in the Port Shelton area while I was in town. There was a six-hour boat tour they recommended that included a couple of stops, one of which was to tour a lighthouse at the tip of one of the islands in the coastal waters off Port Shelton. The earlier of the two daily tours left about 7:00 in the morning and was less crowded than the later tour, so I made plans to go on that one.

The news came on about the time our movie ended. As we discussed the day's news, I again found some of my preconceived notions about slaves challenged when Travis was able to discuss the issues and events in the news at least as intelligently as Chama and I. I hadn't forgotten about the earlier conversation with Travis and the questions it had raised, but I guessed that like my other questions she'd been putting off, she would explain all when she was ready, so I didn't ask.

Travis kept finding small ways to serve me, and it was obvious he derived great satisfaction from doing anything to please me. He seemed to perk up whenever Chama or I said anything that bore the slightest hint of doing anything sexual. Things that had been unthinkable for me less than two days earlier were becoming irresistible.

It was after dinner when I got up the nerve to simply use him to play out a fantasy. I've always loved teasing a man to near orgasm and stopping short, over and over again. We were back up in my room, so I had him strip and lie on his back on the bed, and told him if he didn't behave, I'd have to tie him up.

His cock was already out of its sheath to greet me when I began toying with him. I caressed it gently as I had done before, using a light touch on his most sensitive spots and keeping the caresses spaced out at time intervals. It wasn't long before he started to moan and his hips began to move of their own accord, and within about ten minutes, I had him squirming, breathing unevenly, grunting loudly, and I knew he wanted to cum. Now it was just a matter of deciding how long to drive him crazy and hold him off. Normally at this point, I'd go at least another ten minutes, maybe twenty if I wasn't getting tired. Many times, I'd gotten myself off at the thought of making it last an hour or more. Oh, to see him squirm for that long!

Then I remembered that sensory cock sheath I'd seen in the exercise room. I told Travis not to move, and pulled my shirt off and lay it over his face so he wouldn't see what I was doing. Then I retrieved the sheath from the other room. I wasn't sure if he'd know what I was putting on him and didn't want to give it away just yet if he couldn't tell. The sheath was easy to slide over his shaft, and with the pull of a couple of straps, it was securely in place. One strap went around the base of his cock and balls, and another around the top of his ball sac. These two were secured with a small lock; he would have a difficult time removing it without the key. A wire leading to a separate power supply had a plug that was situated so that it could not be removed while the unit was locked on.

The instruction booklet explained the various ways it could be programmed. The arousal level it could keep him teased to was adjustable and could be set to change on an automatic timer. I followed one of the suggested programs, which was to start him at a level safely below orgasm and to increase it at intervals. I entered it into the remote control, choosing a level that I estimated would take at least five steps to finish him off and setting the interval for ten minutes.

When I switched the unit on, I watched Travis's face for his reaction. If he hadn't known before what toy I had put on him, he did now, and there was a grimace as he realized the teasing was likely to go on for a while yet. For me, it was such a deliciously naughty feeling, knowing how badly he already wanted to cum, knowing how long he was going to have to wait while being teased ever closer, and knowing that he didn't know. For a while I just watched him, finally lying beside him laying my head on his chest to enjoy being up against him as he wiggled uncontrollably, hearing the groans of frustration vibrating from within his chest. At first, it kept him at a lower state of arousal than I'd had him at before putting the sheath on, but by the fourth interval, he was more desperate than he'd been under my hands.

As the end of the sixth interval approached, I knew the next interval or two would make him cum, and I was ready for some action, so as soon as it switched, I turned it off. "I'm taking this off now," I told him. "As soon as I get it off, you can have your way with me." I released the main strap with the key. "But you have to stay still for a count of ten, then you have to catch me." I slipped it off him.

The room wasn't big enough for much of a chase, and after less than a minute of running in circles and bounding over the bed, he caught me. I continued to put up a perfunctory struggle but he soon had me down on my stomach, then lifted my rump and took me roughly from behind. Not that I minded the treatment; I had, after all, provoked him into this state. He fucked me hard, driving his cock into me like a piston, groaning loudly with pleasure, and it was less than a minute before he filled me with his sperm.

But as he pulled out, he held me down and rolled me over onto my back beneath him. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"You said I could have my way with you, and that's just what I'm doing." I was a little shocked at his statement, thinking he was a bit presumptuous, but he was watching me closely, studying my reaction. He began tonguing my nipples, and my resistance quickly melted away. It wasn't long before he realized it was no longer necessary to hold me down.

His prick had never really flagged, and within minutes, he was back inside me, pounding away. This time he lasted longer, and I could really feel it when his knot swelled, stretching me out and filling me up nicely. I came about the same time he did, and we lay there on the floor together in a heap.

"Good heavens, you were fantastic," I gasped. "I love it when you ride me hard like that."

"Then my Mistress is pleased with me?"

"Oh, yes, Travis, my foxie, very much so."

We climbed into bed together and as we lay there drifting off to sleep, I again had a moment to think. He was enjoying this way more than I had ever imagined a pleasure slave could enjoy his job. But his reaction earlier when I brought up the issue of slavery still nagged at me, and I supposed Chama must have trained him really well for him to be this happy about serving me as well as he did. Had she rescued him from a bad situation? Did he act as he did in part out of gratitude toward her? That was one theory, but it didn't explain everything, and if Chama didn't tell me the rest of the story soon, I was going to go nuts with curiosity.

Monday

I awoke to the sensation of Travis sampling my snatch. My subconscious mind had helped by waking me up earlier to empty my bladder so my wake up call from Travis wouldn't be marred by having a full one. For a few minutes, I just lay there as he took his time savoring me. Finally, I opened my eyes a little and saw the clock. "You're ten minutes early."

The fox paused. "I know how early you need to leave for your boat and I wanted to make it last." He resumed, selling me on his reasoning with his tongue. Damn, he was getting good at anticipating me.

After a wonderful climax, he helped me to get dressed and have a quick breakfast before I departed. Since parking was expensive in the waterfront area and they lived only about ten blocks away, I walked, enjoying the many older homes and buildings that housed the shops and offices I passed along the way through Port Shelton's central business district. There were still plenty of openings on the tour when I purchased my ticket and took a seat in the waiting area.

A beaver and a raccoon were coming and going from the boat, both obviously mechanics from the way they were dressed and the things they were carrying. About the time we should have been boarding, there was announcement over the speakers. "Due to an engine problem, this morning's tour has been delayed a few minutes." But those few minutes stretched out into forty-five as the crew looked progressively more despondent, and they finally made another announcement. "We regret to announce that this morning's tour has been cancelled..." It went on to explain how passengers could get a refund or reserve a space on a later tour. No big deal. I reserved for the same tour the following morning.

At 8:15, I was sitting at a patio table outside a coffee shop along the town square, sipping an espresso, nibbling a biscotti, and wondering what to do with myself for the next several hours. Chama wasn't expecting me back until afternoon, and most of the shops didn't open for another hour or two. Two blocks away was the county courthouse, and I remembered that there was a museum in the building. Even if it wasn't on my priority list, it was open and it was free, so I went. It also wasn't very big, taking up only a few rooms of the building, and by 9:00 I was wandering around the courthouse, most of which still functioned as such. As I passed the clerk's office, I had a sudden inspiration.

"Could you look up some information for me?" I asked the zebra behind the counter.

"What would you like to know?" she replied.

"Can you look up a slave transaction for me? The owner's name is Chama Salinas."

She punched a few keys at her computer terminal and asked me to verify the spelling. "Sorry, I'm not finding any transactions for anyone by that name."

"Is it possible the records are incomplete?"

"Only if she just moved to town."

"No, she's been here at least three years." I thought a moment. This wasn't making sense. "She used to be a slave herself."

"Okay, let me check something," said the zebra. "Oh, this is interesting."

"What?"

"According to records on file here, she still is. Her owner is Tom Graydon."

Why did that name sound familiar? "Who is Tom Graydon?"

"He was an avid supporter of the Slave Rights Act that went into effect last year. This time last year, I wouldn't be able to give out any of this information. All slave records were confidential. One of the changes from that act was to make these records public. It seems some owners considered their slave ownership and transaction information private, but in some cases, it made it difficult for friends and family of slaves to locate them. There were several other things in that act, and Tom was one of the biggest supporters of it. That's why I was a little surprised to see that he owned a slave."

"Maybe he bought slaves on paper and freed them."

A few more keystrokes. "She's the only slave in here under his name. I suppose it's possible he bought her emancipation rights and forgot to report it, but that doesn't sound like Tom. He's pretty efficient about such things."

"You know him?"

"Yes, I see him here quite often. He's a local attorney. A pretty good one too, by all accounts"

That's where I'd heard the name! His office was in Chama's house. He was her landlord.

I asked a few more questions and found out Chama's previous owner had been Bianca del Mar, a lioness who lived on the bluff overlooking the sea northeast of town and who had numerous slave transactions in the records. She was a corporate executive and one of the wealthiest people in town.

By the time I left the office I had already decided my next stop would be Tom Graydon's office, an easy decision since the only other place I could think of to go was back to Chama's place and they were at the same location. I wanted to find out who he was and how he was involved in Chama's freedom. As I walked back, I kept trying to go through the information in my head. He was Chama's landlord. He had at least in some sense owned her.

When I arrived, I saw two office staff, a ferret named Glenda and a lemur named Oriana according to their nameplates. "Can I help you?" asked the ferret.

"I was wondering if I could ask Mr. Graydon a few questions."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"No."

"I'm afraid he's rather busy this morning."

I frowned. "I'll only take a minute of his time."

Glenda sighed. "He's with a client at the moment, but I can ask him when the consultation is over."

"Please," I replied. She nodded, and I sat down in the waiting area. There was a middle aged female rabbit also waiting, probably his next appointment. Looking around I noticed the lemur had a couple of files and a law book spread out on her desk. Behind her was a door into a room that had a polished wood table with plush chairs and some bookshelves with law books and journals. To the left of that behind Glenda was a row of file cabinets and the closed door that led to Graydon's office. Overall, the furnishings and the decor spoke of success without excess. I'd seen law offices that were so extravagant they were downright intimidating. This one stopped short of that, nicely done and giving an impression of being well organized.

His office door opened, and Glenda arose to escort an equine couple to her desk. "Mrs. White is here," she said into the office, "but there is a lynx here who says she wants to ask you some questions." She hesitated, then turned to me. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Kirin Heald," I said.

She started to turn back, then did a double take. "Oh, you're Kirin!"

What? She knows my name? During the couple of seconds I had to ponder this, I noticed Oriana stopping whatever she was doing to look up at me. Then he stepped into the doorway.

It was Travis.

I should have seen it coming. I hadn't. I felt stupid. "You're... Tom," I stammered.

"Hello, Kirin," he said, grinning sheepishly from ear to pink ear. He turned to the rabbit, "I'll be with you in just a second, Mrs. White." He gestured me forward. "Kirin, this is Glenda, my secretary, and Oriana, my paralegal. Oriana, Glenda, this is Chama's friend, Kirin."

We exchanged perfunctory greetings. They were both smiling in a way that suggested they knew more than I would have liked.

Travis, or Tom, was dressed in a tailored business suit and neatly groomed. He was standing up straight, looking me in the eye, and smiling. He was assertive, courteous, and professional. Even though they were the same person, Thomas B. Graydon, Attorney at Law, was very different from Travis the pleasure slave.

He handed the file he was holding to Glenda and said something about the equine couple, then led me into his office. He didn't close the door or offer me a seat. "I know you've been wondering a few things about Chama and I, and I think we are ready answer all of your questions," he said to me. "Unfortunately, I have another client appointment that should have begun five minutes ago." He opened another door behind his desk and led me through it into the dining room of Chama's place. "Chama," he called out. When there was no reply, his ears went flat and he frowned. "I think she went grocery shopping. We weren't expecting you back this early and I truly regret leaving you alone like this, but I have to keep my appointment. I'll be back for lunch in about an hour." And with that, he stepped back through the door and closed it.

I was dumbfounded. I sat at the dining table, trying to sort out this latest revelation. I didn't really feel hurt or angry, since they had as good as admitted they weren't telling me everything and I had agreed to wait until they were ready to tell me, but I felt more than a little miffed, as if I had been the victim of an elaborate practical joke. I felt a little guilty for going over their heads and asking about them at the clerk's office. And Glenda and Oriana's reaction had been nothing short of embarrassing. How much did they know?

Among these other thoughts, one other filtered up. Damn, he looked good in that suit!

Chama returned about fifteen minutes later. "You're back early," was the first thing the ocelot said.

"The tour was cancelled. I'll be going back tomorrow." She set two grocery bags down and I followed her out to the car to help her with the rest. Chama seemed afraid to meet my eyes, and the silence was growing uncomfortable. I broke it when she handed me a couple of bags. "I met Tom."

"I kind of guessed that," she replied.

We walked back inside. "Is it true that he owns you?"

"Did he tell you that?"

"He didn't tell me anything. He's busy with a client. I was downtown with nothing to do and happened to wander by the clerk's office." She shot me a dirty look. "But he said you'd answer my questions now."

"Yes, it's true. Legally, he owns me."

I looked around. "I take it this place and all this stuff are his?"

"Most of it."

"And those other commitments you mentioned..."

"His office hours. He has a trial downtown later this week. I told you we'd have plenty of time to spend with each other."

We made one more trip to her car. Actually his car; she informed me she didn't own a car at the moment. After loading my arms with four jugs of juice, she locked the car and carried the last couple of parcels inside. I helped Chama put the groceries away, and when we finished, it was time to prepare lunch. Tom would be back to join us when his client meeting finished. As we did these things, Chama told me the story of how she and Tom met.

Interlude

Chama looked around the room. In it was Bianca's entire household staff, many of whom were slaves though some were free employees. It was typical of the meetings Bianca had before every party she hosted on her estate, parties which had become less frequent of late. This was only the second in about a month, compared to a year ago when it seemed she was having at least one a week.

"Pettri," the lioness said to a fennec across the room, "what do you have planned for the meal?"

"I am going to make seafood crepes..." Pettri, her resident chef, went on to name off several more of his delicious entrees he was planning. Bianca nodded with approval and suggested an appetizer she thought would go well for this occasion.

She discussed specifics with various others. Jerdon, ursine butler and one of the free employees, would be the greeter for the guests. He also acted as leader of the household staff, the one to whom all minor matters that need not concern Bianca herself were brought. Cameron, a bobcat, being the chauffer, would have to shuttle out-of-town guests between the party and their hotels. Most of the rest of the staff were maids, groundskeepers, and such, whose primary tasks involved cleaning up in preparation for and after the party. Some would also serve the food and drinks to the guests.

Bianca turned to her four pleasure slaves. "And do you have some entertainment in mind?" she said to Sharalee, the skunkette who was unofficially their leader.

Shar gestured toward Irktan, the husky sitting beside her. "Tan and I have been working on something we call the wrap dance. We think it will be a real crowd pleaser."

"Sounds interesting. I like it when you come up with things on your own. And what about you two," she said to Brandon, who was seated between Chama and Sharalee.

"Nothing as original as the wrap dance, I'm afraid," the mink replied. "Unless you've got any better ideas I figured Chama and I would do another dom/sub scene. Those usually seem to go over pretty well."

"That will do nicely," said Bianca. She told them she wasn't expecting any guest pleasure slaves, as there often were, and went on to tell the group about other specifics. When she was finished, she thanked everyone for attending and adjourned the meeting.

The ocelot thought back over her first three years as a pleasure slave. She'd gone through two owners that first year, which was not unusual for a new pleasure slave, especially when one of them was a first time owner. Mistress Bianca was her third, and things had worked out much better. Bianca expected a lot from her slaves, but she treated them well and fairly, and Chama was generally happy to be working for her. She was one of four pleasure slaves she owned, among about a dozen other slaves and several free employees, some of who were former slaves of hers who stayed on with her after earning their emancipation. Of the four pleasure slaves, Sharalee had been here the longest, followed by Brandon. Only Irktan was newer.

* * *

Tom Graydon had heard stories about Bianca del Mar's parties from various clients and other associates, but this was the first time he'd been invited to one. He wasn't one of her usual attorneys - she'd been working with all of them for years before he opened his practice in Port Shelton - but she had run into some difficulties negotiating this contract and hired him after deciding a fresh set of eyes might see things the others were overlooking. Now the contract was a done deal, and in addition to paying him for his services, she'd invited him to this party. The lunch had been outstanding, and he wondered what else Bianca had planned for her guests.

Bianca was well known for using pleasure slaves to entertain at her parties, and this one was no exception. Tom always felt awkward whenever he was around pleasure slaves. It wasn't that he had any problem with the practice of slavery in general, or pleasure slavery in particular. He didn't. But neither could he relate well to other guests who enjoyed their entertainment. Tom had a secret, one he believed he could never share with others in his niche in society. As Tom watched the pleasure slaves performing sex acts in front of others, sometimes very kinky ones, as he watched them cozy up to the guests, as he saw them lead guests off to their quarters for some private entertainment, he envied them. His fantasies were dominated by scenes of having to fulfill someone else's fantasies, agreeing to play them out without question even before he had any idea what they were.

The first couple to entertain the party had mesmerized him as much as they had the rest of the crowd. A skunkette and a husky appeared before them, wearing what appeared to be loose strips and bolts of cloth arrayed haphazardly across their bodies. Then the music began, and they moved around each other, grabbing and tugging on the cloth at various places, sometimes grabbing the same piece at two points and drawing it back and forth. The cloth dragged across their bodies, caressing and arousing their most sensitive parts. Their moves were graceful, and in addition to the most obvious parts, they were using the cloth to stimulate other sensitive places, such as their armpits and their tails. They both had such beautiful tails. They moved around each other gracefully, teasing each other constantly with the cloth but never touching directly. The skunkette's nipples were visibly rock hard beneath their cloth wrap, and the husky was developing a noticeable bulge lower down. Even with most of their bodies covered, the scene was an incredible turn on to watch. They weren't exactly moving to the music, but seemed to do things in a sequence based on it.

Both performers had become quite aroused. His cock was sticking out beneath the cloth, and she seemed to love using the cloth to roll it back and forth. He was likewise teasing her cunt with the strip of cloth that covered it, giving everyone a few peeks at the wet spot on it. Finally, she lay down on her back. He knelt between her legs, moved the cloth aside from both of them, and slid his shaft into her. As he pumped away, he continued teasing her breasts with the cloth, and she his tail, still never touching anywhere except where his cock was thrusting in and out of her. He emptied his seed into her and they ended their tryst, bowing to the enraptured crowd.

Watching the dance before him, Tom wondered what it took to come up with and practice a scene like that. He was sure it had given every male in the house a hard-on, and he was certain the smell of wet pussy that hadn't been there a few minutes ago wasn't all coming from the skunkette.

* * *

Chama was pleased to see the wrap dance go off so well. She'd helped Shar and Tan work on it, assisting as they experimented with pieces of cloth, trying to choose what fabric would work best, what sizes and shapes to cut them in. She'd also helped them choreograph it as they decided what moves would have the desired effect, both on each other and the crowd. They would surely use this one again at future parties. Shar and Tan would likely be most in demand for private sessions tonight. She'd had her share of nights as most coveted; this one was theirs.

Her show with Brandon was next, though it was nothing spectacular. Of the four of them, Brandon was the most submissive, and she seemed to possess a natural talent as a dominant, so as usual these were the roles they were playing tonight.

Brandon knelt before her, and he seemed mesmerized as she spoke gently to him. She then cuffed his hands together behind his back, followed by his ankles. Then she attached the ankle cuffs to the handcuffs by a short length of chain, leaving him hog-tied. Next, she put a cock cage on him that left him with his shaft sticking out in front of him. Finally, she put on a hood, blinding him. Last, she told him, loud enough for the guests to hear, "I'm going to sit down somewhere," meaning within the area where they were staging their scene, "and you have to find me and eat me." With that, she took several steps away from him and sat on the floor, knees bent and facing him.

Tied as he was, Brandon moved around by kneeling up, causing his back to be arched, and inching forward on his knees. The constant erection caused by the cock cage made it impossible to squirm along on his belly. He could get around some on his side, but from there he usually rolled onto his back, hands and ankles beneath him, then rocked forward onto his knees. The problem with this position was that it had his nose sticking almost straight up in the air, which was the worst place for it since he had to rely on it most to locate Chama. He went through several iterations of rolling onto his side, shifting around and trying to get a bearing on Chama by smell, then getting back to his knees to move in that direction. Eventually, he bumped into her, and after a couple more minutes to get himself repositioned he was able to get his muzzle to her pussy and let his tongue finish the task.

She released him from his bonds and they bowed to the guests. Not surprisingly, it didn't get as much of a reaction as the wrap dance. It was time to mingle some more. She had long since gotten used to mingling with guests at these engagements while wearing revealing lingerie, fetish wear, or nothing at all. The mingling might include sitting on a lap, giving a shoulder or foot rub, allowing a little groping, slow dancing, or other comparable activities. Anything more had to be done in private sessions.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Jerdon approached Tom. "Mr. Graydon, are you enjoying the party?" asked the bear.

He swirled his drink and smiled. "Yes, very much so," said Tom.

"Since it is your first time here, Bianca wishes to offer you a private session with one of her pleasure slaves. Will you accept?"

Tom thought back to the performances he'd seen earlier. Though the crowd had gone wild over the two who had done the dance with all the loose cloth hanging on them, the second act had struck his fancy more. He had usually refused such offers in the past, but something about that ocelot really piqued his interest. "Is the ocelot available?"

"Chama? Yes, she is. Let me introduce you to her."

* * *

When Chama saw Jerdon waiting expectantly with a well-dressed red fox she didn't know standing beside him, she politely ended the conversation she was having with another guest. She knew it was about time for her first private session and she had a feeling this was he. "Jerdon!" she exclaimed to the bear.

Jerdon turned to the fox. "Tom, I'd like to introduce Chama. Chama," he continued, turning to her, "this is Tom Graydon. He would like you to entertain him back in your room."

"Pleased to meet you," said the fox as he extended his hand. She couldn't help noticing his sparkling green eyes and captivating smile.

She smiled back and took his hand. "Pleased to meet you too," she said. "If you'll follow me..." She led him back to her room and closed the door. "What is your pleasure today?"

He glanced down bashfully. "A question, first. Can you keep whatever we do here confidential?"

"I always do. As long as you don't harm me, do anything illegal, set the house on fire, anything of that magnitude, what happens in here is just between the two of us. I won't tell, and no one else will ask."

"Thank you," he said. He opened and closed his mouth, as if not sure what to say next. Probably his first time with a pleasure slave, she thought.

"So what would you like?"

He hesitated. "I liked that thing you did earlier with the mink. Can we do that?"

"Certainly," she replied. "I don't think Brandon's hood will fit me, but I have one that will, and..."

"No," he interrupted, then paused. He looked away bashfully for a moment before continuing. "I want to be the one bound like Brandon was."

Chama's eye ridges went up. She was used to reverting to the submissive role in these sessions. Most guys who wanted to be dominated went to a prostitute who specialized in it. For some reason, pleasure slaves were seldom asked to do that sort of thing. Okay, she thought, this guy wants to sub. She could work with that.

The ocelot thought about posturing herself as the classic strong dominatrix, but looking at the fox, he seemed the type that would respond well to a gentler approach. "Let's get started." She began speaking to him in a seductive, almost hypnotic voice as she had him remove all his clothing, and he fell under her spell as easily as anyone ever had. As she bound him, he seemed mesmerized by her voice, her gaze, her touch, willing to submit himself to her completely.

They played the scene as she and Brandon had done earlier. He had more trouble figuring out how to move around with his arms and legs hog tied, and it looked painful the one time he fell forward onto his erect cock, but he kept on. He was determined to overcome his limitations and reach his prize, and finally he got the hang of it. When his muzzle reached her snatch, he seemed to savor it like a fine wine.

She removed the hood and looked him in the eye. "You're pretty good at that. Shall I make you cum too now?" He smiled back at her. "Or should I tease you for a while first?" A flicker of his eyes, a twitch of his smile, and she had her answer. She had to be careful not to offend one of Mistress Bianca's guests, but Chama was sure she had read this guy right and she trusted her instincts. Leaving him hog-tied and on his knees, she caressed his still caged cock gently, bringing him to full hardness and eliciting some groans of pleasure and frustration. She purposely teased him in a way that made it hard to keep still, knowing that if he moved too much he'd risk falling over. She kept this up for about fifteen minutes as she gradually loosened the cock cage and eventually removed it. With it removed, she continued bringing him gradually closer to the edge but always stopping short. She sometimes stopped to caress his balls, tweak his nipples, or explore some other part of his body, but always returned to his cock within a short time. Finally, after about half an hour, she finished him off with her mouth.

She unbound him and he thanked her, seeming immensely pleased, and after he dressed, they returned to the party. She was allowed to mingle with guests for a few more minutes before Jerdon brought her a raccoon for another private session. His session turned out to be a basic lap dance and a fuck, nothing fancy.

By the time she returned from that session, most of the guests had left and the party was winding down. Jerdon told her Bianca wanted to speak with her privately. He brought Chama to her, where she observed that Tom was with her, and for a moment she was worried she had done something wrong and was in trouble. Had she gotten carried away with teasing him? "Chama," the lioness said to her. "Tom here says he had quite an enjoyable time with you." Tom nodded and smiled, much to Chama's relief. "In fact, he'd like you for a whole day. We've already worked it out, provided you have no objection."

Chama flashed him a smile. "None at all," she said to Bianca. "I think we'll get along just fine."

In addition to the private sessions in conjunction with parties, Chama and the other slaves were sometimes loaned out for longer periods, possibly up to a week. Bianca was always careful about who she loaned her pleasure slaves to, so Chama wasn't worried. Her only bad experience to date had been with a man who was somehow offended at the notion of a pleasure slave who could dominate like she did and seemed determined to demonstrate as forcefully as possible what he considered her proper place. Thankfully, that session had lasted only two hours.

Tom wanted to take her back to his place, so she packed a day's worth of clothing and some of her toys. When she asked him which ones she should bring, his answer was whichever ones she thought would be most fun to use on him.

Upon arrival back at his house, she observed it was also his office, and that was when she first found out he was a lawyer. That made his earlier choice of a scene all the more intriguing. "Okay, Mr. Graydon, what would you like to do first?"

He answered with a question. "What would you make me do to earn the right to have sex with you?"

The ocelot looked at him curiously. "I'm all yours for twenty-four hours."

"But if it were for you to decide, if I had to earn the right, what would you have me do?"

"Let me get this straight. I'm yours for the taking, but you'd rather have to work for it."

"Basically, yes."

Okay, she thought, this guy has a submissive streak a mile wide. "Maybe we should pretend I have to protect my honor by making you wear a chastity device." She'd only meant it as a joke. His initial reaction was one of shock, but the look in his eye, the twitch at the corner of his mouth, told her that somewhere inside he liked that idea.

With her honor properly safeguarded and the key around her neck, she had him prepare a dinner for both of them. He was obligated to provide meals anyway for the day he had her, but she liked being able to work it into their session like this. He used his good china and silverware, put flowers and a candle on the table, and he poured glasses of wine with the meal. She then asked for a full body massage, indicating that he'd be allowed to remove her clothing gradually but he'd better not move too quickly. The last thing to come off was the key, which she used to free his member and declared he had earned the right to use it. He made love to her for the first time, and she felt more appreciated for it than she had with anyone else in recent memory.

Tom showed her his own collection of toys and gadgets. It turned out he had experimented some with self-bondage, a risky endeavor if one isn't extremely careful. Without being willing to confide in someone to check on him and assist him in case he got stuck, Tom had played it safe up until now and hadn't been able to do nearly as much as he would have liked. He described to her one setup he'd been wanting to try, and she helped him chain himself to his bed. He'd be able to free himself using a series of strategically placed keys, the first of which was kept out of reach by a piece of ice.

She looked over the fox. "Looks like you're all set. Nothing for you to do now except struggle against your bonds and wait for the ice to melt." Chama let out a sigh. "Of course there's not much for me to do either. When I look around this room, the most interesting thing I see is this fox, bound naked and helpless, nothing to stop me from having my way with him." She let a long predatory gaze linger on him for a moment. "As long as you're stuck, I can think of several ways to make your experience more interesting."

The look on his face showed both fear and anticipation.

The things Chama did to him over the next hour and a half included tickling his feet with a feather, running another ice cube over his nipples, bringing her own nipples to his mouth, which he gladly sucked, and teasing his cock to near orgasm. Pleasure and frustration were both evident on his face as he struggled fruitlessly against his bonds. When at last the melting ice released the key, she told him if he left it alone for a few more minutes, she'd mount and hump him. He relented, and she rode him to another orgasm.

Exhausted, he invited her to share his bed for the night. The following morning, he asked her to come up with the scenes. She did, and by early afternoon, she'd put him through numerous challenges and torments, including having to wear painful nipple clamps for more than two hours and a game that involved fetching various items while bound at the wrists and ankles. She never allowed him any release the whole morning, though she had him bring her to orgasm orally twice. No matter what she put him through, every time she studied his face she saw that he was enjoying every minute of it. He could have stopped her at any time, yet if anything, she felt as if he was seducing her into doing more to him than she would have on her own.

For their final scene, she suggested plain vanilla sex, and asked him to talk about their day together. "You really like being dominated that much?" she asked him.

He nodded. "I think that's the most fun I've ever had. You're very good at it, you know."

"Thank you." She looked at him warmly. "The more you like it, the better it is for me."

"I never thought it would come to this when I agreed to a private session."

"So what changed your mind?"

He pondered a moment. "It's hard to explain. You handled me with such a soft touch. And whatever you did, you always did it better than I expected."

"Thank you. I aim to please."

"Can we do this again sometime?"

"Only if you get invited to Bianca's again."

* * *

It was several weeks later when Bianca called Chama and Irktan into her office. She had a very solemn look on her face. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors and the speculation, so this shouldn't come as too much of a surprise to you. I don't entertain as much as I used to, and for that reason I can no longer justify keeping four pleasure slaves. All four of you have done your jobs well and I wish I could keep you all, but I can only keep two, and since Shar and Brandon have been here the longest, you two are to be sold to a new owner." Chama and Tan looked at each other sadly while Bianca paused a moment to let her words sink in. "I've always said I take good care of my slaves, and this is no exception. I want to make sure you get a new owner you'll get on well with, and I know a lot of people to ask, but to start with, I'd like you to think about whom you've met at any of my functions. Anyone you had a session with that went particularly well. Just give me their names. Don't worry about whether they can afford you or not. I can find that out for you."

Back in her room, Chama attempted to do as Bianca had instructed. The ocelot stared at the page in front of her, trying to think of other names to put down. She had recalled two men she'd had particularly good rapport with in private sessions, but one she was pretty sure wouldn't be able to afford her and the other was from a distant city, which would mean moving away from everyone she knew here if he bought her. The third name was a gentleman she'd really hit it off with the two or three times she met him while mingling at parties, but she'd never had a private session with him, and without that, she considered her judgment of him preliminary.

One name she hadn't written down yet crossed her mind for about the fourth time. Her session with him had been unlike any other she could recall. It simply didn't fit the mold of how things were supposed to be between master and pleasure slave, and for that reason she wasn't sure if she should list him. But he kept popping into her mind, so she gave him a little further thought.

They had been on the same wavelength. They had understood each other well without trying that hard, a big plus. And he had been very satisfied with their time together, enough that he had expressed a desire to see her again. Chama decided that if the chemistry between them was that good, they could almost certainly develop a good working relationship, no matter how unusual.

She wrote the name down.

Tom Graydon.

* * *

"This is Bianca speaking."

"Bianca, Tom Graydon here. Glad we're finally through playing telephone tag."

"It seems we're both busy people. Look, the reason I called is because I'm selling two of my pleasure slaves."

"Oh, really? Do you want me to oversee the transaction for you?"

"Actually, no. One of them thought you might be interested in buying her. Do you remember Chama Salinas? She's an ocelot."

"Yes, I remember her quite well. What did she say about me?"

"I didn't ask for details, just names. She mentioned yours. You sound like you enjoyed your time with her. What do you think?"

They spent a few minutes discussing specifics such as price, how much emancipation credit she had earned, and what else Bianca planned to do to find a buyer if he wasn't interested.

"I don't think so," he finally said. "I've got other financial plans that would have to be altered if I were to buy a pleasure slave."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that. If you change your mind, call me back."

* * *

Did he remember her, she had asked. That was an understatement. The day Tom had spent with Chama nearly two months previous had been a dream come true. For days after their session he'd hardly been able think of anything else. There were moments when he had to pinch himself to keep his mind on a client's business when his thoughts kept trying to wander back to that day he'd allowed an ocelot pleasure slave to have her way with him. Not only had he allowed her to take control of him, but she had done it in a way that was better than he had imagined, always adding some twist of her own that made whatever he asked for even better.

And now that she needed a buyer, he was flattered that she had thought of him.

Tom didn't get much sleep that night. His thoughts of her went in two directions. One was his desire to have another session. If her new owner was someone he didn't know or who wasn't willing to share her (even for a price), or who lived a thousand miles away, he'd probably never see her again. The other, more prevalent thought was whether perhaps he could buy her. Though he had nowhere near Bianca's wealth, he was well off enough to keep her comfortable, and he wanted her to be happy. What would it take for him to be able to afford her? Slaves were not cheap, and he'd have to defer some of his other plans, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure this was what he wanted. He became worried that Bianca had already found another buyer for Chama. Once he knew his decision, all he could think about was what it was going to be like having her all the time. How many more tricks did she have in her arsenal? How many more pleasant surprises would be in store for him? As thoughts like these played through his mind, he brought himself off over and over again throughout the night. By morning, he had decided what role he wanted her to play.

* * *

Chama had been more intrigued than anything else at the news that Tom Graydon had called back and changed his mind. The ocelot wasn't concerned for her happiness, as she knew Tom would be a good master to her, but she wasn't sure what else to expect other than that it wouldn't be the usual master/slave relationship. Bianca mentioned he had negotiated to lower her price a little in exchange for loaning her back to Bianca on certain occasions. If Tom knew anything at all about how seriously Bianca took the welfare of her present and former slaves, he wouldn't have agreed to that if he didn't intend to treat her well.

It was his Friday lunch break. He sat across his dining room table from her, speaking to her as she imagined he did to one of his clients. He had quickly eschewed the slave posture she took when she first arrived, insisting that she sit up and talk to him as an equal. "There are two rules I have to insist upon in our relationship."

"Okay, shoot," she replied.

"The first is that my law practice is important to me, my clients come first, and nothing we do may interfere with that. The second is that we must keep our relationship private and discrete. Nothing we do may involve anyone other than you and I, nothing public, and no one else may find out about it."

Chama nodded. "I understand." She was already wondering what sort of arrangement he had in mind for them that he would make rules like this.

"I alone retain the right to decide if and when to break those rules. The first I plan to stick with pretty closely. The second I hope we can expand upon at some point, but it's for me to decide how, when, where and with whom, though I may ask for your input."

"Understand." The fox was showing a side of himself he hadn't revealed before. Tom had strong personality. He was and attorney after all, whose job required the ability to convince others of his clients' point of view. She thought of Bianca's security guards, who seldom flexed their muscle but left little doubt they were capable of doing so. He was like that in a way.

His tone softened, and he began speaking the way she remembered him from before, a gentler, humbler manner that was a little seductive. "I told you before I hoped to see you again, and I'm sure you remember what sort of activities appeal to me."

She met his gaze. "I don't think I could forget you if I tried."

"I've given this a lot of thought. This has always been a private fantasy of mine, one I've never told anyone else about, one I never thought I'd be able to fulfill once I decided to pursue a career in law." He averted his eyes, as his face took on that sheepish, embarrassed expression she'd seen when they first met. His ears flushed. He was breathing heavily, trying to screw up the courage for what he was about to say. Then he got down on his knees, and looked up at her. "I want you to be my mistress. I want you to make me your pleasure slave."

The ocelot looked down at him long and hard. His eyes were pleading, but when she didn't answer him right away, he averted his gaze as any good slave would. He had just bared his soul to her, entrusted her with his most private secret, put himself in her hands. Chama reached out and stroked his head. "So, you want to be my slave?" He looked up at her and smiled. "Why should I indulge this fantasy of yours?" She wasn't talking about the obvious fact that he had bought and paid for her for that purpose, and was pretty sure he understood that.

He looked her in the eye. "Because I believe you will like this too. As your pleasure slave I will indulge all of your fantasies."

Chama held his gaze. "I shall have to give this some thought." She already knew she would say yes, and this was probably obvious to him. If not, let him wonder for a bit. She needed to decide how she was going to start things off with him.

The fox returned to his seat, assumed a more equal manner, and went on to discuss some of the more mundane rules that went along with living in his house. If anything, she had more freedom than at Bianca's but she would be expected to do some of the housework. He'd been living alone and keeping his own house, so that was something they could share regardless of who was the slave. She agreed to do whatever she could to support his law practice, and he was willing to cover any expense within reason that she incurred in her role as his mistress.

When he returned to his office for the afternoon, Chama had a chance to think. This would be a new challenge for her. It was one thing to play the dominant role for the duration of a scene or a session, but it was quite another to be the mistress full time. And however willing a subject Tom might be, he was still new and inexperienced and would need training. The idea that in this case the slave was really the master kept cropping up. Being a slave, especially a pleasure slave, meant you had to be willing to try anything your master asked you to do, and if Master Tom told her to make him her slave, she would give it her best shot. She didn't feel too sure of herself, but if she had as much instinct and natural talent as others kept telling her she did, she should do just fine.

That afternoon, Chama thought about how to break him in. She wondered how much he knew about what it was really like to be a pleasure slave, whether he would still want to be one if he knew. From that, she developed her approach for initiating him into the role, and for that, she had to run an errand to the local adult paraphernalia store for a couple of items she would need.

* * *

He was tied to the bed and at her mercy. Chama looked down at him and stroked the fur on his chest as she spoke. "As a lawyer, you do your job for your clients the best you can. You don't do a job halfway. You do whatever it takes to get the job done. Am I right?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Good. I'm glad to hear you're not the kind of person who will settle for halfway. You put your all into it, you do your best, you do whatever it takes."

He had that look in his eye that showed both worry and desire. "Of course, my Mistress."

"Because that's what I expect from any pleasure slave of mine." Chama looked down and saw that his cock was at full attention. She ran her hands over it a couple of times, eliciting a moan of pleasure. "Because of the nature of our relationship, I thought it best to give you a new name. I will use it from now on whenever I am acting as your mistress, addressing you as my slave. Do you have a favorite name I can call you by?"

He thought a moment. "How about Travis."

"I like that name too. Travis it is, then. Outside of our roles, I will simply call you by your real name. Understood?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She stroked his organ a few times more. "I bought a couple of collars for you today. I am ready to put one on your neck, to mark you as my slave." With that, she produced a leather collar, which she then looped around his neck and buckled, then placed a small padlock on it making it impossible to remove without the key. He seemed quite pleased by the ritual. "I have another collar for you, but we'll get to that one shortly. First, I think you deserve a reward for accepting this one." With that, she began teasing his shaft in earnest, bringing him near to orgasm. He began to moan loudly and struggle against his bonds at her delicious torment as she took her time, making it last a few minutes, until finally he exploded, shooting gobs of cum onto his belly fur.

After giving him a moment to recover, Chama looked into the fox's eyes. "Do you think you have what it takes to be my pleasure slave?" she murred.

"Yes, Mistress Chama."

"Hmmm, I don't know. A guy like you has probably always had a comfortable existence, and you may not really understand what you're getting yourself into. That's what the second collar is for." As she said this, she began teasing him back to an erection. She then slipped a leather collar, about an inch and a half wide, over his cock. It had laces on one side, sort of like a miniature corset, and had a rubberized coating on the inside to insure it wouldn't slide easily once it was in place. She had earlier noted where the knot swelled on his cock and made certain not to get him aroused enough now for it to swell. She then tightened the laces gradually, allowing his erection to flag and bringing him back to hardness several times in the process, until she was confident it was on tight enough to stay in place when he was flaccid. It would prevent his cock from fully retracting into its sheath, leaving the head exposed, but she didn't think that would present a problem. The ends of the laces she secured with a clamp that locked in place.

The ocelot again looked him in the eye and spoke smoothly. "Whether I accept you as my slave will depend on which collar comes off first. The one around your neck you may ask to have removed at any time, and if you do, that will indicate to me that you've changed your mind about being my pleasure slave. You may also ask me to remove it anytime one of your two primary rules applies and it won't count against you, but you must wear it the rest of the time.

"The second collar, the one around your cock, will stay there until I'm convinced you understand what it takes to be a pleasure slave to me, and have agreed to give me your total and complete submission. And I plan to put you through the paces for several days at least before I will be convinced. Tell me, Travis, is that what you really want?"

"Yes, more than anything, Mistress Chama."

She smiled at him. "I guess we'll find out, won't we, because if you're going to pull rank on me when the going gets tough, I want to know that as soon as possible." She reached down and held his cock. "Who does this belong to?"

He thought a moment to work out what she meant. "You, Mistress."

"And these?" She held his balls.

"Yours, Mistress."

"And who controls your orgasms?"

"You do, Mistress."

"Very good." She unbound his hands and allowed him to sit up. His ankles were still bound, keeping his legs spread. "Right now, I will allow you one attempt to masturbate."

He was semi-hard already, and he only had to stroke himself for a few seconds to achieve a full erection. He continued for about a minute before the blissful look on his face turned into a frown. He stopped, then ran his fingers over the collar, flicking the locking clamp, before he continued. His hand started and stopped as his facial expression varied over the next couple of minutes. "I can't, Mistress," he finally said.

"Then you've discovered what that collar does," she said, smiling at him. Though he was able to achieve a full erection, the collar prevented his knot from swelling, making it impossible for him to reach orgasm and becoming rather painful if he became too aroused.

She unbound his ankles. "Okay, Travis, for my next question, I need you to speak freely and truthfully. Most pleasure slaves specialize in some things they enjoy most or do especially well. Often it's something that's not obvious at first and just sort of develops as they gain some experience, so if you don't have an answer now, don't worry about it. We'll have plenty of time to discover it later. Do you have a specialty in mind?"

Travis smiled. "I love to eat pussy, and I want to be the best at it that my Mistress has ever had."

"Very good. What else?"

"Nothing else comes to mind."

Chama smiled back. "Then it's time for your first lesson. Come over here and let's see how good you are." He crawled over and buried his muzzle between her legs. "Keep going until you can't go on or I tell you to stop."

Half an hour and three of her orgasms later, he was massaging his jaws, working them back and forth from the workout they'd just received. She looked down at him. "Not bad, but there's plenty of room for improvement," she told him. "Tomorrow I will start showing you a few tricks to improve your technique. And you didn't even last thirty minutes. We'll have to build up your endurance."

"Yes, Mistress."

She stroked him. "Don't feel so bad. For just starting off, you're pretty good." Her voice was soft and smooth as silk. "Stick with it, and you will be the best. I know you will." He smiled back at her, the look in the fox's eyes almost dreamy. He'd taken everything so far with a subtle determination that showed through his submissiveness. Chama knew right then that he would stay the course.

Not that she had any intention of going any easier on him through the period of initiation she had planned for the coming days. Recalling that he had earlier shown himself to be quite strong-willed, she wondered if that would be an impediment. As the days progressed, however, she realized that it actually helped, because she knew he was allowing whatever control she exercised over him.

* * *

It had been several days since Tom had prostrated himself before the ocelot as her slave. A part of him felt as though her putting that second collar on him had been a dirty trick. He'd expected her to ease him into his new life, and assumed that in any case she would start using him and his cock for her pleasure right away, or rewarding him when he did well in ways that would give him ample opportunity for release. Instead, she had put this other collar on him, a constant reminder of who now controlled him. He probably could have argued to have it removed during the day while he was working, but in truth it wasn't enough of a distraction, and the temptation to sneak off and masturbate when she wasn't around to stop him would have been overwhelming. He knew Mistress Chama would be most displeased when she found out, as she almost certainly would. There would come a time later when it would be fun to provoke her, to challenge her, but this certainly wasn't it. So he lived with it. And that part of him resented it.

A bigger part of him was pleased with it, and for virtually the same reasons. He'd given himself over to her, and she'd taken control quickly and decisively. Everything else she had done so far had been a long erotic adventure for a submissive such as himself. For the first full day she kept him beside her at leash's end, frequently looking him over, fondling him, and having him assume various postures. He'd spent most of his time around the house since then naked, and what she did have him wear often included wrist or ankle cuffs or a blindfold. He'd spent two nights on the floor chained to the end of her bed, one of them bound hand and foot. But it was the collar on his cock that symbolized to him more than anything else that she wasn't going to be easy on him, nor was she going to be predictable, and the more he thought about it, the more turned on he became by that idea. Once again, she had put her own spin on his request and made it better than he expected.

The pussy eating lessons were the most fun. It didn't matter that the muscles in his tongue were sore and tired, or that the sessions often aroused him to the point where his knot tried to swell painfully against its collar. He had already learned several new tricks for keeping a woman moaning and squirming under his tongue. He was getting better at judging her arousal level, and in only a week his endurance had increased by fifteen minutes.

Every day Chama asked him the question. Did he really want to be her slave? Did he understand what it took? Every day his frustration at the lack of release grew, and he kept hoping today would be the day she would remove it, but he was determined that it would come off first. The other collar, the one around his neck, never bothered him. Tom could easily see where some who fantasized about being a pleasure slave would falter when confronted with the reality, but he was determined not to be among them. Everything she did to him he made himself view as a positive experience.

So it was on the evening of the ninth day since she had put the collars on him that she asked the questions once again. "Travis, are you enjoying being my slave?"

"Yes, Mistress Chama, very much."

"Do you think you understand what it means to submit yourself to me completely?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you still want to be my slave?"

"More than anything, Mistress Chama." He tried to sound more convincing than he had the previous night without sounding too desperate.

She smiled at him warmly and ran her hands over his body, stopping to caress his nipples and fondle his balls. "Okay, I believe you." She looked him in the eye and put a hand on the collar around his neck. "You understand that by removing the other collar, you agree to wear this one for good, in a matter of speaking."

"Yes, ma'am, I understand."

She pulled the chain over her neck and unlocked the collar on his member. Her doing so aroused him to the point where the knot tried to swell faster than she could loosen the collar enough to remove it, but at last it came off and he let out a long sigh of relief.

"And now, Travis, you've done so well these last nine days that for your reward, you may have your way with me for the rest of the evening."

His face lit up. In accepting her reward, the hardest part was making the mental shift from being the obedient submissive to being the one in control.

She looked back at him. "Well, what'll it be. I'm all yours."

He needed release, badly. Once he let the head between his legs do the thinking it didn't take him long to realize what he wanted most. "I want to screw your brains out." He surprised himself with his bluntness. "Please forgive me if I get a little carried away with my teeth and claws."

She looked back at him with a feral smile. "Travis," she replied, "felids like it rougher than most. I can handle it. Let yourself get carried away."

As he mounted her for the first time, he was surprised at the animal lust it unleashed in her when he bit her neck and clawed at her rump. As he rammed his tool into her, Chama proved she could take it and thrust back in kind. They screamed out their passion as they humped each other with wild abandon. His knot, free at last from its prison, soon swelled as he felt his orgasm build and build, until at last he unleashed a flood of sperm inside her.

He looked down at her, the afterglow still evident on her face as her breathing slowed. "Mistress, I hadn't quite pictured you losing control like that."

She looked back at him. "Well, I do sometimes. Did you like it?"

Unsure if there was a 'right' answer to this, he simply told the truth. "Yes, very much."

"Mmmm, excellent," she purred. "Because I like it too. Very much. It's something I wish my slave to be able to do to me again and again."

He beamed with pride. "Tonight, Mistress?"

"Your choice. As I said, for tonight you may have your way with me."

He did, four more times. He ate her pussy once as well. Despite the sore muscles in his tongue, he enjoyed the fact that he was doing it for fun and not as part of his training.

That night he fell asleep knowing that in the morning he would be back to serving his mistress any way she desired, that he'd be wearing the collar around his neck every night from now on. It was a secure feeling, one that made him all warm inside, knowing that she controlled him. Nothing pleased him more than pleasing her. He was in his own private heaven.

Monday, continued

We were seated at the table nibbling on grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and potato chips. "At first we played our roles to the hilt," Tom explained. "Eventually we reached a stage where our roles were simply understood and it was no longer necessary to remind ourselves of them constantly. It also wasn't long before we cut back how much time we spent playing them. Beyond a certain point, you remember you have other interests. We go full time now and then for a few days, but most of the time we only spend an hour or two a day in our mistress and slave roles."

"I haven't been overworking you, have I?" I queried.

"Not hardly. We planned on full time while you're here. For me, the novelty of having a different mistress makes it worth it."

"I see," I replied. "Any chance I could see more of the real Tom while I'm here?"

He gave me a curious look. "You mean the part of me that's neither pleasure slave nor attorney? I haven't really been hiding that part of myself, but I'll keep that in mind."

"Maybe it would help if we got out of the house some," Chama suggested. "In public, he's always Tom Graydon and if either of us is the pleasure slave, it's me."

"Okay, we can do that," I replied. "So tell me, which one of you decides when to play?"

"I do, at least in theory," said Chama. "It's actually sort of a mutual thing. We've learned each other's signals and know how to read each other's moods. He has ways of letting me know he wants to do something, or when it's not a good time. But working within that, I pretty much do anything I want to him anytime I feel like it."

"Often she'll just do something out of the blue, like tell me to strip, or chain me," Tom added. "For me, the idea that she can do that at any time for any reason or no reason at all is part of the excitement. We trust each other a great deal, and we have lucid moments when we talk about how we're doing."

"Even the name Travis eventually became superfluous, at least when it's just the two of us," Chama explained. "There are times when it still comes in handy, though, like for your visit."

Tom swallowed another bite from his sandwich and took a deep breath. "I'm glad you made it back when you did, Chama. I'm afraid I had to leave Kirin in a rather awkward spot here."

"I'll say," said the ocelot. "She didn't look too pleased when I walked in the door."

I cleared my throat. "How do you think I felt? When were you planning to tell me all this?"

"Today when you got back," said Tom.

"We thought about keeping quiet and seeing how long it would take you to figure it out," Chama quipped, "but decided against it."

"I would have tortured it out of you," I shot back. "Both of you," I added, turning to Tom. "So who else knows?"

"Brandon and Shar. Bianca probably does too," said Chama. "After one of my loans back to Bianca, Brandon said he could tell I'd been getting a lot of practice as a dom. I didn't deny it, but made them swear to keep whatever they knew or suspected about Tom and I a secret. I've worked with Shar and Brandon enough to know I can trust them. They eventually became the first ones I 'shared' Travis with."

"Oriana and Glenda know about it too," said Tom. "After Chama moved in it didn't take them long to work out what was going on." As he said it, I played back the earlier scene in the office through my head. "Don't worry. They're also sworn to secrecy."

"What did you tell them about me?"

"I told them you're a friend of Chama's who's visiting for the week, so they'd know it was okay if they saw you coming and going. That's all I said. But they can put two and two together, I'm afraid, especially after the way you reacted when you saw me in the office."

"You had clients in there, too."

"If they were paying attention, which I doubt, they don't know enough about you or my personal life to make anything of it."

I could feel my ears turn pink. "Why didn't you just tell me all this to begin with?"

They both shrugged, and Tom spoke. "We weren't sure you'd want to visit if you knew Chama was still a slave, even if only on paper. And we thought things would develop better between you and I if you knew me first as a pleasure slave before you found out I was an attorney."

Their reasons made some sense, but I still couldn't help feeling a little bit angry. "Okay, you admitted you weren't telling me everything, but I never thought it was anything like this. And I think there were a few lies in there too. 'Who's the lawyer?' 'He's just my landlord. You'll probably meet him while you're here.'"

"That wasn't a lie, and I didn't say 'probably'," Chama retorted as Tom laughed. "He is my landlord, and you did get to meet him."

"Slaves don't usually refer to their masters as their landlords," I pointed out, looking from one of them to the other, watching their expressions. They looked at each other and back at me.

Then Tom slid off his chair and knelt down in front of me. His eyes went down, his voice softened, and in every respect except the suit he was wearing, he became Travis. "Mistress Kirin, as Chama's legal owner I will accept responsibility on both of our behalf for any deception we may have committed in inviting you here to visit and in how we chose to present ourselves to you. I am truly sorry if our actions have upset or offended you, and I will accept any punishment you feel is appropriate."

I kept the stern expression but reached out and patted him on the head, as I had become accustomed to doing to him as Travis, something I admitted to myself I probably wouldn't be doing had I known him first as Tom. And I could see more clearly now how seductive he was when he took on his submissive persona. I couldn't stay mad at him, or at Chama either for that matter. "I'll have to think about it," I finally said. After another long moment to let the emotional clouds clear, I added, "You may sit back up in your chair."

"Thank you, Mistress."

Chama poured us some juice. "I'm glad we got that cleared up. For a minute there you had me worried."

"So, how have I been doing as your mistress?" I asked Tom.

He gave me a warm smile. "I loved your reaction the first time Chama brought me downstairs and presented me to you. I like the way you loosened up and lost your inhibitions as I gave you the bath and massage, and I've enjoyed everything that's happened between us since then."

I gazed at him suspiciously. "I feel like you knew just how to lead me on. You pegged me pretty well."

"In my line of work you do much better when you know how to read a person."

"You mean as an attorney or as a pleasure slave?"

"Both."

"You didn't answer my question. How was I doing?"

"You've been doing great. I'm certainly having a lot of fun with it. And nothing has changed. You're still my mistress whenever I'm not being an attorney, and I look forward to serving you for the rest of your visit." I swallowed, wondering how it would change the way I treated him now that I knew he was a lawyer. He stood, walked behind me, put his hands on my shoulders and said to my ears, almost in a whisper, "Just think about your fantasies, your deepest desires. Whatever they are, I will fulfill them if I can. If you want me to pleasure you five times a day, if you want me to walk around the house naked, if you'd like to tie me up and tease me, then that's exactly what I want you to do with me." His whisper was seductive, and by the time he finished speaking, I could feel myself getting wet. He straightened up and said aloud, "I need to get back to the office. You two have fun this afternoon and I'll see you after work."

* * *

There was a nice cool salt breeze off the sea to moderate the warm sun. Chama and I were downtown and she was showing me some of her favorite shops in the area. One had candles and incense. Another had used, weathered pieces of hardware from fishing boats, which evidently some people liked to use for their decor. We looked through several art galleries where some of the featured artists were amazingly talented. There was also the usual tourist fare - gifts, souvenirs, postcards, T-shirts, and so forth. Restaurants too, but we weren't hungry.

Our feet were getting tired, so we found a bench along the waterfront where we weren't likely to be overheard, and Chama was able to fill me in some more. "One of Tom's desires in his role as a pleasure slave is to be able to entertain others, both publicly and privately, as I often had to do at Bianca's. But because we have to keep such a low profile, Tom being a lawyer and respected citizen and all, we can't really do any of that around here. So we have to look for other options.

"Several times we've traveled to another city a safe distance away and tried to make a foray into the local scene. It doesn't always work out well when you're not part of the regular social circles in those places; nevertheless we've had some success with that. We've met quite a number of people in these places who only know us as Mistress Chama and Travis and have no idea he's a lawyer. We know of one other master/slave pair with an inverted relationship like ours. He's a cheetah who owns a raccoon and subs to her. We've gotten together with them several times, sometimes traded slaves, and we're in each other's confidence.

"If a friend or family member visits, we lock away the incriminating evidence and I become his domestic slave. We don't really hide the fact that we're also lovers, but there's nothing scandalous in that.

"In a nutshell, that's been our biggest limitation, trying to find ways to be mistress and slave with more than just each other. And that was one reason we invited you."

"Ooo-kay," I said. I had suspected as much. "So some of this stuff you're telling me you won't even tell your own families."

"Pretty much. Tom and I have discussed various people we've known trying to decide who we can trust enough to invite into our confidence, and who we think would be interested in participating. For a while, there were other things going on between us and the time just wasn't right to bring anyone else into the picture, but we're through that now. Anyhow, your name came up. In fact, you were one of the first people we considered when we started thinking about it. I think we knew we were going to invite you at some point; it just took us a while to work ourselves up to it. After you called a couple of months ago, I knew there was no way we could not stay in touch. It didn't take long for Tom and I to decide it was time to invite you."

"Both of you?"

"The final decision was Tom's, but yes, it was a mutual decision."

I thought some more, still assimilating everything I had learned today. I must have had a glazed look on my face because Chama finally interrupted my thoughts. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, I was just thinking," I replied. "What Tom said earlier about punishing him... Should I... I mean, does he really expect me to..."

The ocelot smiled and had a gleam in her eye. "Are you kidding? He wants it."

"How can you tell?" I asked, but my words faded. "Never mind. Stupid question."

We left the bench and did some more walking around. An idea for this punishment was coming together in my head. A very wicked idea.

* * *

We returned about the time Tom closed his office, whereupon he resumed his role as my slave. He asked for and I gave him permission to go running, and I went upstairs to look through the gear in the playroom. My desire to render an appropriate punishment overrode my earlier hesitation about putting their toys to good use. On a shelf in one of the cabinets were some bondage magazines, and I began flipping through them for ideas. Before long, I had worked out my plan.

Now that I knew he was a lawyer, it was hard to look at him the same way, yet if anything he seemed more determined than ever to subordinate himself to me, to do any little thing to please me. Was he bucking for an easier punishment, or was he simply trying to reinforce our roles? I guessed it was the latter, since he seemed to want a punishment.

After dinner I changed into a black stretch lace teddy - it was the closest thing I had to the dom look without borrowing something from Chama (I was afraid to ask what she had along those lines) - and took Travis (as I would continue to refer to him whenever I was treating him as my slave) up to the playroom. I asked Chama to come with me so she could coach me through a couple of things I hadn't done before.

He was wearing only his collar, a short spreader bar between his ankles, and a tail cuff attached by a length of chain to the back of the collar which prevented him from lowering his tail. He kept his eyes averted and didn't show much emotion as I bent him over my lap and prepared to spank him with a riding crop. I looked at Chama. "I'm not sure how hard to hit, so I'll start easy and you let me know if I can hit harder."

Whack.

Not much reaction. "Harder," said Chama.

Whack!

That one got a flinch out of him. "Harder."

WHACK!

A lurch. "That's good," Chama observed. "Don't strike in the same place every time. Move around."

"Okay, thanks," I replied. I caressed his bottom with the crop, letting him wonder when and where I was going to strike again. I didn't want to give him a lot of lashes, but I wanted stretch it out and be as unpredictable as I could.

WHACK! WHACK!

He let out a muffled yelp at the two in succession. As I continued, I would vary which cheek I struck and how high up. I only gave him about twenty-five or so total, but by the time I was finished his eyes looked slightly watery. And he had a hard-on.

"Okay, Travis, it's time to get ready for the second part of your punishment." He didn't react. "Now relax." I lubed his asshole, then began sliding in a butt plug. "Chama, can you tell me how to do this?"

"Would you like me to do it for you?" she offered.

"No thanks, I want to know how to do it myself." She coached me through the process, having him relax his sphincter as I slid it in a little further at a time, and I soon had it in place. I removed the chain between the collar and the tail cuff, then cuffed his hands behind his back, attaching them to the tail cuff. Finally, I put on a pair of nipple clamps connected by a chain. Thus done up, I had him kneel before me.

I propped up his chin with the riding crop and looked him in the eye. "So Chama is your slave, right?"

"Technically, yes."

"And you can give her orders, right?"

"Right." His eyes flicked like he wanted to look at her but didn't dare let his gaze leave me. I thought I heard Chama's breath catch behind me, but I held his gaze.

"Good. I want you to order her to submit to me."

"What!?" she cried.

I turned to look at her with a predatory grin. Then she and Travis locked eyes for a few seconds. With a sigh, the ocelot stepped over and knelt beside the fox, facing me.

I looked down at her with my arms crossed. "You're overdressed. Remove your clothing," I ordered. She did, and resumed her posture.

"For withholding information, inviting me here under false pretenses, and lying to me, Travis here was willing to accept punishment. I'm willing to accept that he had the greater responsibility of the two of you, and the punishment I've already given him covers that part. However, I do not accept his taking full responsibility. You two worked this out together, both of you are responsible, and for that you will share in the remainder of my punishment."

I produced another of everything Travis was already wearing - the spreader, the hand and tail cuffs, the butt plug, and the nipple clamps, and I put them all on Chama the same as they were on Travis. She groaned a bit as I inserted the butt plug just the way she had shown me moments earlier. Though I sensed a slight hint of resentment from her, she held to her role throughout. She knelt back down, and I marveled at the two of them, side by side as I had done them up.

"Okay, now stand and face one another." They stood with little difficulty despite the spreader bars. The bars were short enough that they could stand comfortably and weren't totally prevented from clamping their legs together, but were long enough to make it awkward to hold that position for any length of time.

First I unclamped one nipple clamp from Travis's left nipple and one from Chama's right, then reattached each to the opposite nipple. They were now connected by the two nipple clamp chains, which crossed in front of them forming an X. Then I pulled out another spreader bar, this one much longer than the first two, probably meant for use on someone who was sitting or lying down. I attached one end of it to a ring in the center of Travis's bar. "Okay, both of you, back up a few small steps." I knew this would be tricky for them since the nipple clamps forced them to keep their upper bodies close together. They had to lean on each other to stay upright by the time their feet were far enough apart for me to attach the other end of the long spreader to Chama's bar. "I'm almost done. You two be careful. I'd hate for one of you to lose your balance. One last thing," I said, then I reached under each of their tails and switched on the vibrators in their butt plugs. They would turn on and off at random intervals, running about half the time. "You're all set now. I'll just watch for a while and let you ponder how you got into this situation. I think about a half hour should be adequate punishment provided you remain standing. If you kneel down, I'll have to make it longer or find some other way to make it more interesting."

I sat and watched. They groaned and shifted several times but remained standing, and sometimes I would see one of them react to a vibrator going on or off. A couple of times I went over to walk around them, giving into an impulse to touch one of them. Travis's shaft stayed hard and at times was leaking drops of precum. Curious about Chama's state of arousal I checked her pussy and found she too was quite wet.

Those thirty minutes went by fast for me. I'm sure they seemed longer to Travis and Chama, but they remained standing. When the time was up, I first removed the nipple clamps and helped them stand up straight, then removed the long spreader bar. I removed the butt plugs, cuffs, and spreaders, and again had them kneeling before me, now unencumbered. I was very much aware now that there was nothing forcing them to continue obeying me, nothing but whatever trust they chose to place in me, and I suppose I should have released them at this point, but I was having too much fun with them, and as long as they allowed it I couldn't resist the urge to keep it up a little bit longer. "Okay, you two, the worst is over, but I've got one more thing. You both look pretty desperate. Since you both remained standing and I don't think either of you came, I'm going to watch you two screw."

They didn't need a second prompting. With a couple of whispers, Travis lay on his back and Chama straddled him, sinking herself onto his cock. She rode him for a couple of minutes, rising and falling, speeding up and slowing down, as they closed their eyes and their heads went back, releasing gasps of pleasure. Then I heard Chama whisper to him, "Let's show her what we can do." Chama sat up and rotated herself so that her back was to his face. Then she leaned forward, and as she did so, Travis sat up and drew his legs up beneath her. Then they knelt up together, Chama bending forward onto her elbows as Travis came fully upright. Then he began pumping her hard. They had gone from female superior to doggie style without his cock ever leaving her pussy. He pounded away at her, and after about a minute, he moaned and arched his back as he came inside her.

After a moment of recovery, they again knelt before me. I was about to release Chama and was trying to decide what to have Travis do to about the ache in my pussy when he spoke. "Permission to speak, Mistress?"

"Granted," I told him.

"You realize, don't you, that it was Chama who gave me to you to be your slave, and then you had me use my position as her owner to give her to you." I had this sudden sense that it wasn't Travis, but the lawyer in him that was doing the talking. "In other words, your control over both of us is based on circular reasoning, and is therefore fundamentally flawed. Wouldn't you agree, Chama?" he said, turning to her as he said the last.

They shared a long look, and an evil smile crossed her face. "Let's get her!"

They were between me and the door, so I had no chance for escape. Together they overpowered me, and despite my struggle they soon had me on my back lying backwards on the sit-up board, with my hands cuffed to the ankle stabilizer over my head and my butt even with the far end. Then they attached the long spreader bar to my ankles and propped the board up so that it was level, and unfastened the crotch of my teddy, leaving my cunt fully exposed. I was helpless and at their mercy.

Chama straddled me, her pussy near my face. "Okay, smart aleck, you got both of us, so now it's our turn," she said. "Travis, I want you to fuck her, but make sure she doesn't cum before I do." Travis's cock felt wonderful as I felt him slide it into me a little at a time. As he did this, Chama slid forward, bringing her snatch up to my muzzle. As I cursed myself for not bringing myself off while watching them, I began eating ocelot pussy, doing my best to make her cum. Travis began using long, slow strokes to slide his cock in and out of me. I tried thrusting my hips against him to increase the friction, but he matched my strokes, preventing me from getting any more stimulation than he would allow. Chama was getting wet again and I knew she must have been getting close, so I tried to tongue her clitty more enthusiastically. Travis's cock moving in and out of me slowly was making me desperate, and every time I seemed to be getting a little bit close he slowed down.

Chama then backed off a little bit, and I moaned in frustration as I fruitlessly strained my neck and my tongue forward to keep up the contact so I could bring her off. "I accept that you punished me along with Travis, but you got a little carried away and you knew it. I could see it in your face," she said. "This is also for going to the clerk's office behind our backs." For his part, Travis kept up the slow torture with his cock, and found a few of my sensitive spots with his hands while he was at it.

She returned her cunt to my mouth, sliding it up and down and soaking my muzzle with her juices as I teased her clit and her labia with my lips and tongue. Travis kept up his slow and steady tease fuck. Chama backed off twice more, letting me know she could prolong my frustration as long as she wanted to, but at last she stayed and let me finish her off, moaning loudly as Travis reached around from behind her and pinched her nipples. "Okay, you've earned your reward," she said.

She climbed off, and Travis upped the pace, thrusting in and out of me much harder. It wasn't long before I felt my orgasm begin to build. And build, and build, helped along by Travis's swelling knot. When it finally hit, it felt like my whole body was having an earthquake, with my cunt at the epicenter.

When the aftershocks ended, they freed me from my bonds, and we sat on the floor panting as Travis's cum still dribbled from me. "That's one heck of a way to take out our frustrations on each another," I said.

"It sure beats the heck out of getting angry or sulky," Chama replied.

Travis sat up. "It's not that late yet. What do you say we all walk down to the brewpub and have a pint?"

Chama and I nodded in agreement. We all took a quick communal shower so our smell wouldn't advertise to the whole world what we'd been up to. They explained to me that once we left the house, he was strictly Tom and I should not in any way address or treat him as a pleasure slave.

At the pub we ordered the sampler tray. After we all sampled from each and divided them up to finish, I ordered a hoppy India pale ale, while Chama had a hefeweizen and Tom had a high-gravity altbier. We talked about anything and everything. I had found Tom to be an interesting person in many other ways even before I knew he was an attorney, and our present conversation only added to that impression. Finally at one point I looked into the red fox's eyes and saw the reflection in them of the lynx he saw. I spoke quietly so as not to be overheard. "I think this is the first time I've talked to you when you weren't either being a pleasure slave or talking about being one."

"I suppose that's a big part of who I am."

"But I also like who you are when you're not Travis. I think I'm beginning to see what Chama sees in you."

"Thank you."

"So from now on, I'll let you know when I want you as my slave. The rest of the time, just be yourself."

"I have been, mostly," Tom observed. "But I could drop some of the formalities."

"Please," I replied.

"Do you mind if I keep calling you Mistress?"

"I guess not," I said with mock exasperation.

We continued talking. I don't remember how it came up, but somehow we got onto the subject of Tom's method of waking us. The alcohol must have been affecting me because I blurted out a rather personal question. "Which one of us tastes better?"

"Kirin!" Chama cried.

"Sorry about that," I uttered.

A moment later, however, the ocelot giggled and turned to Tom. "So, what's your answer?"

As we studied the fox for a reaction, Tom looked back and forth between us impassively. Then his hand snaked over to Chama's glass, which he held up and looked into, and he began speaking smoothly and analytically. "The hefeweizen is light amber and cloudy, and the bubbles leave a nice lace on the glass. It has a pleasant banana clove aroma, only lightly hopped, and has a nice wheat malt flavor accompanied by a full mouthfeel, leaving a zesty aftertaste." He set the glass back down, then reached over and lifted mine. "The India pale ale is clear with a fuller head and a copper color. The hops are assertive in both their flowery aroma and their bitterness, which nicely compliments the medium maltiness that lingers in the mouth." He set my beer down. Chama and I exchanged puzzled glances as he continued. "Each is its own style, each with its own qualities and character, and it would be difficult to say one is better than the other. But certainly I would gladly partake of either if it were the only one available to me. Each is something wonderful to behold, with aroma to titillate my nostrils, flavors to roll in my mouth, and a mouth feel to wrap my tongue around." As he said the last, I saw Chama's ears turn red, and felt my own do the same. Tom just smiled, lifted his own glass of beer, and took a sip.

Later, back in our room, after a gentle session of lovemaking, I was resting my head on his chest and stroking the velvety sheath his member had retreated into. "Sometimes, I just want to do whatever pleases you most," I murmured to him.

"But I've already told you what that is," he replied. "Just use me for your own pleasure. Have me entertain you. Make me your plaything. That is what pleases me most."

"Hmmm... Well, I was thinking of using that sheath on you again." My voice became a purr and I lifted my head to see his face. "And I'll probably drive you even crazier for even longer than I did last night. What would you think of that, my foxie?"

His eyes squinted a little. He swallowed and licked his lips, and there was a slight quaver in his voice. "If that is what pleases you, Mistress."

Okay, maybe I wouldn't use the sheath on him.

I lay my head back on his chest and trailed my fingers down his chest, across his stomach, and discovered his tool was back out of its sheath, stiff as a broom handle.

I was definitely going to use the sheath on him again.

"What's got you so turned on all of a sudden?"

"That you're getting the idea. That you're not afraid to use me however you want."

"You mean even though you may not like something, it still turns you on?"

"I suppose it marks me as a true submissive, but yes, very much so. And I wouldn't say I don't like the sheath."

"You seemed worried when I mentioned it a minute ago."

"I hope you don't let my being a little worried get in the way of you having fun with me."

"Actually, I think it may make it more fun."

"There you go."

I fell asleep that night to a different set of questions than on the previous nights. The day's events had revealed to me why he was so agreeable to being my slave, and had opened new doors in what I was willing to consider doing with him. Only now I wondered, why is he like this? What's so great about being a submissive, bound to satisfy someone else's every whim?

Tuesday

The thing I hated most about rescheduling the boat tour was that I had to get up earlier than I like to while on vacation for a second day. Tom didn't seem to mind, though, and he woke me up at the same time and in the same manner as he had done the previous day. By the time he had gotten me good and wet, I wanted more. "Come up here, foxie. I want you inside me." I told him.

"As you wish," he replied, but he didn't slide up right away. Instead, he reached around behind me and began stroking my tail, paying particular attention to that spot on the underside that drove me wild. Then he slid only partway up, licking and sucking on my nipples as he continued to work on my cunt with one hand and my tail with the other. He then used one hand to start massaging the front of my pelvic bone near one end. Soon he began doing the same at the opposite end with the other hand, and he found two pressure points. As he rubbed them, it did something incredible to my desire and made me want a cock inside me in a way I had never felt before. "Oh, gods, fuck me now."

He did, and I fucked him back with wild abandon. I had merely wanted him inside me, and he had found a way to work me into a frenzy of lust before he complied. Again he had anticipated me, giving me what I hadn't realized I wanted. After I came, his knot felt so good inside me I asked him to stay until it subsided, but he explained that once it swelled it didn't take much to keep him aroused even after his orgasm, and after a few minutes we had to get ready for our respective day's activities.

The boat tour went off without a hitch this time. The best part was the stop to walk through the Tindley Head Lighthouse, about halfway through the tour. We were able to climb the spiral staircase on the inside and take in the view from the walkway around the edge. Among the other stops was an island park in which a sunken ship had been raised, moved a few dozen yards inland and converted to a memorial.

When I returned to the house, Chama wore a morose expression and appeared to be deep in thought. "Everything okay?," I asked.

"Yeah, I guess," she replied as she headed upstairs. "I need to go do something."

I followed her. "What is it? Anything I can help with."

The ocelot stopped and waited for me, and we went to her bedroom together. "I need to put some things back in your room."

She handed me several of Tom's dress shirts from her closet. "Tom's room, right?"

"Tom insists on calling it your room. You're the mistress, he's the slave, and that's the way it should be."

"So you took out a few things that would have made it obvious he wasn't just a pleasure slave?"

"Basically."

It only took a couple of trips to move everything. Back in her room, I looked her over. "Something's bothering you. Would you like to talk about it?"

We sat on her bed, and she shrugged. "Having you here is bringing back memories and has got me thinking about my life before and after I became a pleasure slave."

"I have to confess, before I got here I was afraid of what being a pleasure slave had done to you. Now that I've been around you a couple of days, it's nice to know you're still the same person. Even if you do have a rather unusual living arrangement."

She gazed at me humbly. "Thank you. You don't know how worried I was that you wouldn't accept me like this."

"We've always been best friends. What's not to accept?"

"Not everyone has. My parents..."

"Your parents? What about them."

She caught her breath, then I saw tears starting to well up in her eyes. "They haven't talked to me almost since I became a slave. I think they've disowned me."

"Oh, my gosh! Roald didn't say anything about it when we talked."

"Even though my mother and I didn't get along on a lot of things, I'd do anything for my family. She didn't like it when I became a prostitute, but Dad didn't seem to mind. I've always been closer to him anyway, and he appreciated the extra money. When he ended up sick in the hospital, unable to work while the bills piled up, I couldn't bear to stand by and watch without helping. So I sold myself. Pleasure slaves are worth more than regular slaves, and they needed that extra bit and I knew I could handle the work. But Mother refused the money, setting it aside in a separate account thinking she was going to buy me back. She couldn't force me, and eventually the bill collectors found out about the money and seized it, which is what the money was for in the first place. I sacrificed myself for them, and Mother never forgave me."

"That's terrible," I gasped. "What about the rest of your family."

"I haven't spoken with Dad either, but according to my brothers and sisters Mom pretty much forced him to choose between us. Of them, only Kalan sides with my mother, probably because he's the oldest. Kiesha thinks Mom resents the fact that I was able to get her and Dad out of a rut better than they could themselves. I had an option they didn't and I took advantage of it. She tells me they say I'm a slave to some damn lawyer. They've never even met Tom and have no idea what he's like! The rest of my family I get along with fine. I keep in touch with Kiesha, Roald and Nieman. Teal and Berti aren't adults yet and still live at home, but according to the others, they're on my side too."

Chama's tears flowed. I held her close. "I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm here for you if you need someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on." I hugged her tighter, and she hugged back. We got more comfortable on the bed, and for a long time, we just lay there, her sobbing into my shirt, me stroking her fur. We were just two close friends, one comforting the other through a difficult situation.

I was feeling groggy from getting up early and must have drifted off into a nap at some point, but when I awoke, she was still beside me. According to the clock, I had only been asleep about ten minutes. My shirt was wet from her tears, but her breathing was even and there were no more sounds of her crying. I think she had drifted off too, but when I looked down hoping to see a peaceful expression on her face, she opened her eyes and looked back at me. She looked better.

The ocelot began stroking my neck and shoulders, and I responded by caressing her back, extending my claws to scratch gently. She did the same with hers, and the first time we repositioned ourselves to get more comfortable, we ended up with our noses nearly touching. We looked into each other's eyes, then our mouths locked together, our tongues exploring each other's mouths. Her hands were under my shirt, gently kneading my breasts, and as soon as I had to break the kiss to catch my breath, she had my shirt up and her head down, using her fingers and her tongue to do incredible things to my nipples. Her other hand found its way down my pants to discover how wet she had already gotten me, and she found several ways to make me squirm. She had learned some new tricks since the last time we had done this several years earlier. I didn't object as she undid my shorts and slid them off along with my panties, and began exploring my cunt in earnest. Her tongue found its way into my channel, and she expertly nibbled, sucked and nipped at my pussy. My back soon arched, as I drenched her muzzle with the juices of a powerful orgasm.

Throughout all this, I did my best to return the favor, and while she didn't try to stop me, Chama was determined to pleasure me the best she knew how and wasn't going to let a little thing like letting me pleasure her back slow her down. I thought perhaps she was thanking me for listening to her problems earlier, but I think both of us had been wanting this for a couple of days and were just waiting for the right time. Sharing our bodies was one of the things I had been anticipating about my visit before I arrived and found out about Travis.

After my orgasm, she allowed me to partake of her body. I was anxious to feel her nipples against my tongue and to run it back and forth over them, enjoying their hardness. I doubt if I was as expert at it as she was, but I did my best and she enjoyed it plenty. Like me, she had drenched her panties by the time I got them off, and moments later, I partook of her snatch, which was as tasty as ever. I took my time, driving her to a wild climax that left my muzzle coated with her nectar.

Face to face again, we cleaned our own juices off each other's muzzles. Our hands continued to roam over each other's bodies as we found more ways to pleasure each other. We took our time. Eventually I traced the outline of every one of her spots using my claws or my tongue. She enjoyed running her fingers through my thicker fur. We took pleasure in our differences and our similarities.

We were dressed and back downstairs when Tom closed the office for the day. "How are my two favorite ladies?"

"Fine," we said in unison.

He hugged us both. "I'd like to take you out for dinner. You two smell like each other," he said with a knowing grin. "You might want to wash up a bit before we head out."

We had a fantastic dinner at one of Port Shelton's excellent seafood restaurants.

When we returned, I tied him to the bed, wrists overhead and legs spread. I put the sheath on him and explained to him the little game I had thought up to make it more interesting than simply watching as he was being teased. I started him at a level that would give me room to increase the teasing level several steps without risking orgasm, then I began reading a story as though tutoring him. Every few minutes I would stop and ask a question about the story, and if he gave the wrong answer, I would increase the level. If he got three in a row right I would decrease it one. He was surprisingly alert, but I had chosen some difficult questions for him, and the sheath was distracting the hell out of him as I knew it would. After less than half the time I had planned to keep it on him he had reached the maximum level, so from then on, every third wrong answer I straddled him and masturbated to orgasm only inches from his face.

As before, it was an incredible turn-on for me to watch him moan and gyrate in frustration at being brought repeatedly near orgasm. I almost felt sorry for him when he gave a wrong answer and I tried to sound sympathetic as reached over without hesitation to turn up the teasing level. It was nearly three hours I had him on edge when I was ready to conclude the game. "Would you like to cum?" I asked him.

"Yes," he groaned.

"How bad?"

"Really bad."

"Would you like it if I promised not to make you wear this sheath again for the rest of my visit?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll promise on one condition."

"What?"

"I turn it off now and you have to wait until morning to cum."

He groaned loudly but took a minute to consider this offer. "Okay, I agree."

I turned it off and left it on him. When turned off, the sheath was effectively a mild cock cage and chastity device. I removed his other bonds, then programmed the device to start fifteen minutes before my wake up time, and instructed him not to wake me until it had been running at least that long.

Wednesday

Travis woke me up on schedule. As soon as I could convince myself to move I checked the timer on the sheath's remote control and confirmed that indeed it had been running longer than fifteen minutes, so I knew he was well teased up by the time he started on me. As I lay back, I noticed the way he was eating me was somehow different. He was panting more, letting out an occasional moan, and overall had the feel of being distracted as he licked and kissed my pussy. Objectively, he may not have been as good, but knowing the cause of his distraction made it an incredibly delicious experience. It was the first time I'd ever been eaten by someone as distracted as that when I wasn't too busy being the cause of the distraction to enjoy it.

He didn't waste any time bringing me to orgasm, so it was my turn to keep my promise. He stood up, I knelt before him and removed the sheath. Since he had been wearing it for about twelve hours the smell of his musk was quite strong, but it was pleasant to my nostrils. I took his cock in my mouth and began working my hands and my mouth up and down the length of his member. I wasn't trying to hurry, but he was so worked up it was hard to hold him off and it wasn't long before his orgasm was imminent. Thinking he must have built up a pretty good load of cum the night before, I didn't want to try to take it all in my mouth, so I let it land all over my face and muzzle. Spurt after spurt he shot as I continued to milk his organ with my hand. Finally he was drained, so I looked up at him with my cum-covered face. "Well done, slave. You sure earned your reward."

He knelt down, bringing his face level with mine. "Thank you, Mistress Kirin, for letting me cum, and thank you for using me for your pleasure."

"You're welcome," I giggled.

"Would you like me to clean that off?"

I twitched my nose, and through the smell of cum I could also smell the pot of coffee Chama had started downstairs. "Not yet. I think I'll go get us some coffee first." His eyebrows went up.

I went downstairs, still wearing Tom's cum on my face. "Good morning, Chama."

"Good morning, Kirin. How'd you sl... Oh, my gosh!" She nearly dropped her cup of coffee.

"Something the matter?" I said innocently as I poured two cups.

She tried to say something, but no sound came out.

"I'll be down for breakfast in a few."

I went back upstairs and gave Tom his cup. I sat down and he spoke as he began dabbing the cum off. "If I may ask, whatever made you decide to go downstairs like that?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought it would be funny to see Chama's reaction. She was hilarious."

"I could hear."

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just that wearing cum like that is usually something a master would make his slave do, not the other way around."

"Oh, really?"

We were silent a moment as he dabbed the last of the cum off. He spoke again. "How did you feel the night before last when Chama and I forced ourselves on you? You didn't seem to be fighting us very hard."

"Helpless, but it was kind of fun not being in control. I kind of deserved it anyway."

"Hmmm, okay." He smiled, and I could see there were wheels turning behind those eyes of his.

"Why did you thank me after I teased you that long with the sheath, then made you wait all night to cum?"

"It's hard to explain. There's a certain kind of satisfaction I get from being used by other people for their pleasure. From being able to accomplish whatever challenge or make it through whatever torment they think it would be fun to put me through."

I thought about it. "Seems kind of strange to me, but if it works for you..."

He gave me a long, thoughtful look. "Kirin, if I may be so bold, I would like to suggest something you might not have considered. Though I am bound to be your pleasure slave, if you wished it, you could have me top you."

"You mean..?"

"You would submit to me for some period of time. Our roles would be reversed. You would become my pleasure slave."

I caught my breath. "You're right. I hadn't thought of that."

"We can't do it now, obviously. I have a trial today, but it'll give me some time to think up a scene for you. What do you think?"

I began my internal dialogue, weighing the pros and cons, trying to decide whether this was something I wanted to try, but after about half a minute, the dialogue just sort of faded away as I realized I was getting wet again. Really wet. "Yes, I'd like to do that," I breathed. I don't remember deciding to say it.

As we dressed, I began to puzzle over myself. Why I had gotten so turned on by his suggestion? We had barely begun talking about it when some part of me that liked the idea suddenly took over. Had he read me and coaxed that part of me out?

I worked out part of the answer right away. I had been fascinated by the way he could derive as much satisfaction as he did from total submission to another, and had been asking a lot of questions in an effort to understand it. And he had just hit on the best way to help me gain that understanding.

What had I just gotten myself into? Did that make me a submissive too? Maybe not, since I wouldn't submit to just anyone, but then I didn't think he would either. At the moment I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather submit to than Tom.

* * *

"I love this fruit lasagna," I told Glenda, taking another bite. "Could you give me the recipe?"

"Of course, and thank you," said the ferret.

She and Oriana were back in the kitchen having lunch with Chama and I. It was the first chance I'd had to really get to know them. They were happy to suggest a few more things I could do while visiting Port Shelton. One of their suggestions was to drive to the top of Blue Mountain, which had fantastic views not only from the summit but also during the drive.

"I hope we didn't embarrass you too much when you came into the office the other day," said Oriana.

"It's okay. I've already worked it out with Tom and Chama."

Glenda and Oriana exchanged a glance, and I think my ears flushed again. Chama seemed to take it all in stride. "We understand. You were in a kind of difficult position," said Oriana. There was a pause. "Yes, we know about 'Travis'," the lemur continued.

I was ready to say just about anything to keep the conversation moving forward so the moment wouldn't drag out. "So, what is your opinion of 'Travis'?"

Oriana kept a straight face. "If you mean, have I ever participated, no I haven't. I have no desire to."

"Me neither," Glenda added.

"Tom is welcome to do whatever he wants with his spare time," Oriana continued. "It bothered me a little at first. He wants to keep it very discrete, and Glenda and I ended up becoming his first line of defense if anything is a little too, ahem, obvious. It's not something I'm the most comfortable with, but he asked that we please say something whenever we notice anything."

"He's afraid if we can tell, others might notice, too," said Glenda.

"But you stayed with him," I observed.

"He's still the best lawyer in town, in my opinion," said Oriana. "I have to admit, after he got Chama and we figured out what was going on between them, there were moments I wasn't sure I wanted to stay on with him. But a couple of months later, it became something of a cause for him, and in that we ended up supporting him, becoming part of his team, and it left no doubt that staying on his staff was the right thing to do." Glenda was nodding agreement. "Have you heard of the Slave Rights Act?"

"The zebra at the clerk's office mentioned it. Said he was a supporter of it."

Oriana smiled. "Oh, he did a lot more than that. He practically wrote the law." I blinked.

Chama spoke up. "Several weeks after he bought me, he came back from the office one day holding a law book, and said he had just been checking some of the laws on slave emancipation. He does that a lot - looks up the laws himself pertaining to anything he does, even if it's not part of his work. Anyway, he has this book open. 'Do you realize,' he said, 'the way this law is written, I could charge you enough debt for expenses you incur to require you to cash out all of your emancipation rights to keep the debts paid off, and you'd never get emancipated?'"

I knew a little about how slave emancipation worked, but this was getting over my head. "Can you explain some of this slave emancipation stuff to me?"

"Okay," Chama began. "A slave needs seven years of emancipation credit to become a free citizen. And a year of emancipation credit is worth a certain amount of money. So slaves have to decide how much of the time they put in should be paid to them in money and how much should go towards emancipation. If a slave puts all of it towards emancipation, he will be free in seven years, but he'll have nothing while he's a slave except the basic food, clothing, shelter and health care his master is required by law to provide, and he'll have no money to his name when he's freed unless he had some other than as a slave. So most slaves take some of their credit as cash. Of course, it takes longer that way to become a free citizen, but you have pocket money, and you can save up some for when you are freed. In practice, most slaves take between ten and fourteen years to get emancipated.

"Anyway, Tom shows me this law and explains how masters can sometimes require their own slaves to incur debt to them. Now it's not unusual for slaves to borrow money from their masters, but what he was explaining was that a master can force a slave into a position where he has no choice but to borrow money from him, to where the only way the slave can pay it off is to take money for most or all of his time, giving him little or no emancipation credit. He could be stuck as a slave indefinitely, and won't get to keep much money either since he has to use it to pay the debt.

"When Tom told me this, for a second there he had me worried, but I didn't think he was the sort who would do anything like that to me. He went on to say that he wasn't a hundred percent sure if the courts would even uphold this interpretation of the law."

Oriana picked up the story. "The next day, he explains all this to me, and asked me to research the case history on this particular point of law. Well, I did the research, and not only did the courts agree with his interpretation, but I found several instances where slave owners had done just that to their slaves.

"When I told Tom, he seemed rather distressed by this. He was a slave owner too now, and to him it was like some sort of personal affront that it was legal for him to do this. We started looking for other loopholes in the laws pertaining to owner and slave's rights. We became a team, trying to discover ways masters and mistresses could be unfair to their slaves, and trying to figure out what we could do about it."

"I already knew a lot of slaves here in town," said Chama, "so he encouraged me to keep in touch with them, expand my network, and try to use it to find out as much as I could about situations involving masters and slaves that were legal but unethical or just plain wrong. The times I went back to Mistress Bianca's turned out to be real good opportunities. Bianca was a good mistress, but many of her slaves had previous owners, some of whom hadn't treated them well, and I often met guest slaves at her events who had stories to tell."

"We found several other problems with the existing law," Oriana continued, "so Tom contacted Devan Koonce, our representative, and Tom, Devan and I drafted the first version of what was to become the Slave Rights Act. It had several key provisions. For the debt situation, it made it illegal for an owner to use his position to force a slave to incur debt. They can still loan money to their slaves, but now the slaves act as free citizens in choosing to enter into the agreement.

"Another provision simplified the process for a slave who wants to self-market. That's if a slave believes he is being treated badly or unfairly and wants a new owner but the owner won't sell, a slave can petition the court for the right to put himself on the market against his owner's wishes. It's bad for a slave's reputation to do that without good reason since a lot of buyers don't like to risk owning a slave who's self-marketed before, but sometimes it's the only way for a slave to get out of a bad situation.

"As things developed, we also found out ways slaves can be unethical to their owners. Well, fair is fair, so we addressed some of those things too. That quieted many of the bill's opponents and even won support for it from some slave owners.

"As I'm sure you can imagine, even the simplest and most widely supported laws take a lot of work to get through committee, approved by legislature, and signed into law, and this one met with plenty of opposition. Some of it had to do with perfectly legitimate cases that the bill might have outlawed, and for those we had to rework the bill's language so that it wouldn't unnecessarily limit the rights of owners or slaves in situations that weren't problematic. Many slave owners would never treat their slaves unfairly anyway and had no problem with outlawing the most unfair practices. Some owners even saw the law as good public relations for the practice of slave ownership. But other slave owners opposed it, either as a matter of principle for slave owner's rights, or because they did some of the things the bill proposed to outlaw and wanted to keep doing them. It was a lot of work winning key votes and getting the act passed."

Glenda gestured to her, then picked up the story. "Tom spent countless hours on the phone over a period of more than a year. I think I have every member of the committee in my card file, and about half the rest of the legislature. I helped him plan numerous trips to the state house to meet with representatives, to speak before the committee, and in one case to speak before the full legislature. Tom even turned down clients to make sure he'd have enough time to support the bill. Devan is officially listed as the sponsor of the bill, but he had the whole rest of his constituency and a hundred other issues to think about, so Tom ended up doing most of the work. There were a couple of provisions in the bill that were very important to him that met stiff opposition, and he had quite a struggle keeping them in."

I was flabbergasted. It boggled my mind to realize we were talking about the same guy who a few days earlier had knelt before me, offering himself to me as a pleasure slave. "I had no idea," was all I could say.

"So that's the story, short version," said Oriana. "And all three of us are proud to have been part of the team that pulled it off."

"Thank you for telling me."

* * *

When Tom returned from the courthouse, it was like seeing him in a whole new light. I studied him, trying to picture him speaking before a committee at the legislature, or hobnobbing with some representative in the hallway. Also in the back of my mind was what I had agreed to that morning. But he seemed to be in a different frame of mind than usual, more thoughtful, more preoccupied. I went to Chama privately. "Chama."

"Yes?"

"Tom seems different tonight. Is this what you were talking about when you said you knew when and when not to play him?"

The ocelot smiled at me. "Very observant of you."

"Should I give him the night off?"

"You should ask him that yourself."

After dinner he presented himself to me in his usual manner. "Tom," I said to him, emphasizing his proper name, "do you need the night off to work on your trial?"

He smiled at me. "Thank you for asking. I was going to say something but Chama suggested I give you the chance to make the offer first."

It was a warm feeling knowing I had read him right. "Okay, you may have the night off."

He glanced away sheepishly. "Well, I don't necessarily want the whole night off. Some play helps me unwind."

"Oh, really?"

"Look at it this way," he explained. "Everyone needs to have something to do at the end of a long day at work, something to help you relax. For most people it's watching movies, listening to music, or a hobby like art, or collecting something. For me, it just happens to involve getting bound and teased and eating out my mistress, or whatever she happens to have in mind that day. On nights like tonight, I need to avoid anything too hardcore, but some more moderate activity is still good stress relief and might even help me think better about the trial."

Sure, whatever. "Okay, just let me know what works best for you."

We started with a more usual form of stress relief, a workout. All three of us ran a couple of miles and used the weight machine in the playroom. At Tom's suggestion, he gave me another bath like the one the day I arrived, only this time I returned the favor, washing his fur. It was a nice way to explore his body further. As we did this, we talked some more.

"I give closing arguments in the trial tomorrow morning, and I keep running through everything we covered at the trial trying to figure out if there's a better way to present the case to the jury. I have all day tomorrow blocked out for the case." He went on to explain what happens if it takes longer than that for the jury to reach a verdict. He wouldn't discuss any specifics of the case, citing client confidentiality and saying it would probably bore me to tears anyway.

I worked some soap into the fur of his neck and shoulders, and couldn't suppress an image of Chama dominating him. "Tom, I was wondering... I had always imagined a dominant as dressed in black leather, holding a whip, speaking with a commanding voice. But I can't picture Chama doing that. Is she like that at all?"

Tom laughed. "Occasionally. When she's not pleased, she has a look that'll drive a dagger into your heart. But you're right, she doesn't use the classic dom approach very often. She has other ways that are more subtle but equally effective, if not more so."

"What kind of ways?"

His eyes became a little more vacant. "She can just look at me with those amber eyes and smile, stroke me on the head, and speak the right words to me in a low, soothing tone of voice, and next thing I know, it's like she's cast a spell over me, like I've signed my free will over to her. I'll do anything she tells me, I'll let her do anything to me, and nothing matters to me more than pleasing her." He blinked, and his eyes regained their usual luster.

"Now that I can easily see Chama doing. Heck, I think she's done it to me a few times. Like when she convinced me to accept you as my slave."

"I'd like to think I played a part in that."

I thought back to that moment. "Yes, I suppose you did."

"I had a very good teacher." He scrubbed my back with his fingers. "But I never lose myself to her completely. Maybe the most submissive part of me wishes I could, but the more rational part of me won't let that happen. There's always that small part of my mind that's ready to take control anytime I have to. Chama knows my limits, and as long as she doesn't exceed them and doesn't run up against my cardinal rules about the law practice and being discrete, that part of my mind can keep quiet and let me trust her completely, which is how I prefer it."

"And what if you really were her slave? Legally, I mean."

His tone changed. "What I've freely chosen to do with Chama is not something any slave, even a pleasure slave, should ever be forced to do against their will. Becoming a slave means being indebted to work until you've earned back your freedom, but you're not obligated to do it under a particular master or mistress and a slave should never be forced to go against his principles."

I remembered how he reacted the second day of my visit when I asked him about the practice of slavery. "At lunch today we were talking about your work on the Slave Rights Act. What made you do it?"

"I am, in a sense, both a slave and a slave owner, so I was in a position to empathize with either side. Whenever I would hear of something slave owners were doing to exploit or mistreat their slaves, it was an affront to me as a slave owner that other slave owners would do that, and as a slave it was a violation of the rights of a group I liked to think of myself as part of. Sometimes I tried to think what it would be like if I couldn't trust Chama and she really was my legal owner. I had to do something about it.

"They say things happen for a higher purpose. I'm one of the best lawyers in town - or so others tell me - so what's a guy like me doing fantasizing about being a sex slave? Then I met Chama and later bought her, and next thing I know I'm living my fantasy, but part of me was still wondering, what the hell am I doing this for when there are so many other things I could be doing with my time and money? Then I found that loophole about slave debt, and suddenly everything clicked. I'd found my purpose."

I looked at him admiringly. "I'll bet slaves everywhere are thankful that you did."

"If some of the letters I've received are any indication, they are. It's sort of an ongoing effort. I took care of the worst injustices in the Slave Rights Act, but I still hear about others. I'm doing some work on follow-up legislation, but there's only so much you can legislate."

After finishing the bath, we went downstairs and he went to his office while Chama and I watched a movie. When it ended I was tempted to go into the office, slide under the desk and give him a nice surprise, but decided it would probably be a violation of his first rule, so instead I went up to the bedroom to read, and chose an alluring pose that would give him an eyeful when he entered. I put on a pair of thigh-high stockings and a see-through top, and was lying on my stomach on the bed with my legs spread, tail up, and rear toward the door, giving him a full view of my exposed pussy. Sure enough, I heard him come up the stairs a few minutes later, and when he entered and saw me, he was out of his pants in seconds. He took me from behind rough and hard, just as I was hoping he would. It was wonderful.

Thursday

Tom had to get up early. I could have slept longer, but who was I to deny him his favorite course for breakfast? After he left, Chama and I began our preparations for the trip up Blue Mountain. She told me some more about Tom and the Slave Rights Act.

There were a couple provisions in the Act that Tom had a really tough time convincing the committee to keep in. One of those dealt with the use of pleasure slaves as prostitutes. As Chama explained, being a prostitute has certain advantages and disadvantages compared to being a pleasure slave. Among the disadvantages is the 'use once, then throw away' attitude many clients have toward prostitutes. Another is that it requires a lot more mental and emotional effort to working with a new, unfamiliar person. But prostitutes have the advantage of being able to pick their clients and set their rates, or to work under a house mistress they trust to do those things for them. They also get to decide when and how much to work, and if it all gets to be too much, they can always quit the profession. Pleasure slaves don't have those choices, but to offset them, ideally they would work under a master or mistress who will take responsibility for their well being, with whom they can develop a good working relationship. There are often other members of the household they serve, in addition to guests and such, but as long as the master or mistress is overseeing it all and is careful who spends time with his or her slaves, things are generally tolerable or better for the slave. In some cases, however, people were buying pleasure slaves to use in a prostitution business, and the slaves in that situation got the worst of both worlds - all the disadvantages of prostitution and none of the advantages. The owners had no reason to develop any kind of a relationship with their prostitute slaves, and since slaves can't quit short of self-marketing, the owners had little incentive to make the kind of accommodations for the slaves that a house mistress normally would to keep her free prostitutes working under her.

To address this, Tom wrote a provision into the Slave Rights act that limited how much owners could sell the services of pleasure slaves and skilled slaves to third parties in exchange for money. They couldn't outlaw it entirely since many slave owners did it at least occasionally and it was a widely accepted part of the job. "Even Bianca sometimes took money for our services," said Chama, "but she didn't do it that often and was always careful who she did it with, so it wasn't a problem." The way the provision worked, an owner could sell only so many hours per week of the slave's services to third parties. If they go above that amount, the slave gets much broader free citizens rights, including among other things the right to half the money. Some skilled slaves, those with skills that would be freely marketable at well above the standard slave labor rate, were in a similar position. But it was also common for owners to have their slaves trained in a skill they didn't possess when purchased, an arrangement that was beneficial for both owner and slave, so the act had to be crafted carefully to support and encourage that practice.

The other situation Tom wanted to address was shared ownership. That's when a slave has several owners, people who normally wouldn't be able to afford a slave who pool their resources to buy one who is then shared among them. Once again, that's not usually a problem for general labor slaves, such as a maid who cleans several owners' houses in rotation, but for a pleasure slave, shared ownership can be hell. Imagine a female owned by five or six guys who take turns with her. There's no one owner to go to with any complaints, only the whole group of them, and the peer pressure among them must be overcome before they will take seriously any appeals brought to them, often a near impossibility in practice. So he included this provision in the act that said pleasure slaves could only be owned by an individual or by a couple in a committed relationship.

Unfortunately, both of these provisions ran into stiff opposition among a certain subset of slave owners. Where most of the act had enough support to pass, these two provisions could jeopardize the entire act if he insisted on keeping them in, yet to Tom, removing them was not an option. To pull it off, he needed to win a few key votes.

As Chama explained all this to me, I nodded. "I understand Tom went through a lot for that act."

A shadow seemed to pass over Chama's face. "Yes, he did. For a while, it got more personal than that for him. What I'm about to tell you is highly confidential. In fact, you're the first person we've told, and I wouldn't be telling you if I hadn't already discussed it with Tom."

"Okay."

"Once Tom became my pleasure slave and found out about the treatment some slaves received, the things he was trying to remedy with the Slave Rights Act, he would ask me to act out some of those things with him. He had me do things to him that I know he really hated, and I could tell. There were times when I nearly safeworded on him from the top. But he insisted on going through with them because it helped him empathize more with those he was trying to help, and it motivated him to work harder for passage of the act.

"Probably the worst was one time while he was lobbying for the shared slave provision. After thinking through what it would be like to be one, he told me to go to him at least twice a day and demand to be fucked. I was supposed to decide I wanted it without checking to see what he was doing or what mood he was in, and unless it was something to do with his cardinal rules I was to be indifferent and demanding of him.

"After a couple of days, I had my doubts that it could be that bad for a shared slave, but I knew a slave who had been one before, so I arranged a meeting with her to find out more about what it was like. It was worse than I thought. That night, I came to his room demanding sex. He was exhausted and I made him do it anyway. When we were done I slapped him around, told him he was a lousy lover and he'd better improve, 'and I don't like your attitude either.' He looked very hurt as I walked out, and I came real close to turning around and apologizing and asking him to stop making me do that to him. But I knew what he was playing at so I stayed with it, and the next morning I came back and told him I wanted it again and it'd better be better than it was last night."

I gasped.

"A few days later he left town for several days to talk it up with some of the legislators who opposed the provision. He finally won its passage. Later he thanked me for being merciless and said it really helped him to keep going when it seemed hopeless."

I looked at her in disbelief. "He really took it that seriously."

"Yes, he did. But he also told me it was something of an act for him to play the mistreated slave, and suggested I remind myself of that if we did it again in the future."

"Did it bother you that he made you do that to him?"

"I wouldn't say bothered, but I didn't enjoy it. It convinced me, however, that for all Tom will allow himself to be subjected to as a pleasure slave, it's nothing compared to what he's willing to put himself through for a cause he believes in. If that's what works for him, and if I support the cause he's working for, I'd do it over again." Chama paused. "Tom is very strong willed. When he puts his mind to something, he's unstoppable. And he uses his other side, the ultra-submissive pleasure slave, to recharge himself so he can put more energy into things like his law practice, or fighting for a cause."

Again I pondered their relationship. Just when I think I have them figured out, I discover it goes deeper.

We were about fifteen minutes from leaving when we got a phone call from Tom. He said the jury for his case had delivered a verdict after less than an hour of deliberation, so he was free for the rest of the day and wondered if we wouldn't mind waiting up a bit so he could come with us.

* * *

Tom drove us in his car, which typical of his style was classy and comfortable but not overly extravagant. The towns we passed through along the way had some interesting sights. We crossed a bridge that many called an engineering marvel, and passed through different types of forests, meadows of wildflowers, and boulder-strewn valleys. The mountainous backgrounds and rock formations were sights to behold. We stopped to eat our packed lunch at one of the scenic overlooks along the route. The sea was visible in the distance at times, but those views were mostly behind us where we'd be able to take them in better on the return trip.

It was also during the drive that we talked more specifically about future visits. My company's vacation plan gave me another week next year, bringing me to three, so I'd have more time to include them in. Tom suggested having me come be his mistress when Chama was away for a few days. My response was that it depended on where Chama was going; if she was in Cragmoor, our hometown, visiting family, I'd rather be able to spend some time with her there, but I'd be delighted to when she went elsewhere. Other possibilities we discussed included Tom visiting Cragmoor, and us meeting elsewhere.

We paid our admission at the park entrance, where there was also a gift shop, a restaurant, a restored carousel, a couple of trailheads, and various other odds and ends for tourists. We passed on those for now, as we were anxious to get to the summit and figured we'd have time for them later. The summit was only about three miles from the entrance as the eagle flies, but by road it was more than three times that distance as the unpaved road wound its way up the slopes and valleys on the sides of Blue Mountain. It took us half as long as the trip so far had already taken.

The summit was everything promised. Crisp, clean air under a partly cloudy sky, incredible views ranging from the sea to more mountains further inland. I explored the hiking trails a little, including a short loop, but the more interesting ones started or ended elsewhere, including one that took a different route to the entrance. I'd have to come back sometime and try that one. Tom took a lot of pictures and I wondered how many lenses and filters he had in that oversized camera bag.

As we were preparing to leave, I stopped to use the restroom in the summit house. It was the type of restroom found in most fueling stations, designed for only one occupant at a time. When I opened the door to leave, Tom was standing outside waiting for me. "Do you mind if I come in?" he asked.

I looked back at him in confusion. "No, I guess not. Come on in."

The fox came in, closed the door and locked it, then set his camera bag down and gazed at me warmly with those green eyes of his. "You said you wanted me to top you. If you're up to it I have something in mind I'd like to start now."

My breath caught. "Now? Here? What kind of thing?"

He shook his head. "My only answer is, do you trust me?" His voice was smooth and seductive.

"And if I say yes..?"

"Once you say yes, our roles become reversed. You are my pleasure slave, I am your master, you are my plaything to use any way I like."

My knees felt weak. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I balanced myself on the sink and took a couple of deep breaths.

Then I knelt down. "Yes, I trust you, Master Tom."

"Very good, Kirin, my lynx." His smile was warm and radiant, with a slight hint of evil. I shuddered. "Since this is your first time, I'll explain a few things as we go along. First and foremost, this is based on trust. You should do whatever I ask without question, or try to, as I may ask you to do something difficult or challenging. If you make a mistake, are unable to do something I ask, or if you disobey me, chances are there will be a punishment. You should assume that whatever I want you to know I will tell you. If you want to say or ask anything, you first ask for permission to speak. And you are mine until I release you, which could be as long as tomorrow morning, or until you use the safeword. Do you remember mine?"

"Pumpkin."

"Very good. Use it only if you feel you must. Understand that I'll be paying careful attention to you, judging what I think you can handle and adjusting if I need to. I can go easy on you if you really want, but remember, you can handle more than you think you can, and I think you'll find the experience more enjoyable in the end if you allow me to push your limits a little more. So I'll ask you one more time, do you trust me?"

It was a lot to think about. I ran it through my mind again. He intended to challenge me, but not any more than he thought I could handle. I swallowed. "Yes, I trust you."

"Very good. Let's get started. Whenever I have you in a submissive posture, keep your eyes forward." He stepped behind me. "Kirin, please strip and give me your clothes."

My eyes widened and I hesitated for a moment, but I felt his eyes on me and thought about what he'd just said about trust. I pulled my shirt off over my head and handed it to him, then stood and stepped out of my shorts, which I handed to him. These he folded and placed carefully on top of the paper towel dispenser. Finally, I slipped my panties down, which I noticed had acquired quite a wet spot, and handed them to him. I saw his nostrils twitch as he studied them a moment before he put them in one of the side pockets of the camera bag. It felt very strange, standing naked before him in a public restroom and him knowing how aroused I was.

"Have you used the toilet already?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Now I want you to lean over the sink and lift your tail." I did. I heard him unzip the camera bag, and in spite of myself I turned my head to see what he was doing. He had something in his hand inside the camera bag, but I didn't see what it was before he saw me looking and stopped, and I realized my mistake. "Eyes forward," he reminded me as he dropped whatever he was holding. I turned forward, then felt a cloth brush past my ear tufts. It then came over my eyes and he tied the blindfold behind my head. "I hoped I wouldn't have to do this," he said, and I could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice.

More rummaging in the camera bag. "Lift one foot," he said. I did, and a moment later asked me to do the same with the other. He was pulling something up my legs and stopped about mid-thigh. "Okay, now spread your legs." At this point, I again became aware of how wet I was and how exposed I was to him. I felt something slide part of the way inside my pussy, then I felt his finger on my anus, covered with lube. He was sliding something in there, too. "Relax," he said. I did my best, and after about three iterations of sliding it in a little further, the thing in my pussy also sliding back and forth as he did so, I felt it slide into place, as the widest part of it got past my sphincter, which closed around the narrower base. It was a new and unusual sensation for me, having my asshole stretched like that, not so much that it hurt but a very full feeling that would be hard to ignore. Then he slid the dildo the rest of the way into my pussy. He didn't need any lube for that. It felt wider part of the way up, about where the knot was on his own cock. When he slid it the rest of the way in, I gasped as it filled up and stretched my pussy, and I felt the knot resting against my G-spot. Finally, he pulled the waistband of the panties up over my hipbones. As he pulled them up I felt something with soft fingers being pulled against my clit. "Okay stand up and spread your legs a little," he said, and I did. He made some minor adjustments until they were on straight, then removed the blindfold.

"Now, I'd like you to walk around a bit, do some knee bends, swivel your hips, try sitting down, and see if everything feels comfortable. If you need to adjust it a little, you may do so." I did as he instructed, adjusting slightly a couple of places where it didn't lay against my fur quite right. Most of the panties were a stretch fabric that fit moderately tight but not uncomfortably so, but there was something like a belt inside the waistband, and the parts in the crotch against and inside me felt like rubber. It also became obvious how much wearing these was going to drive me crazy. Almost any movement caused the invaders in both of my holes and those little fingers on my clitty to slide around enough to keep me pretty wet and horny. I could feel a steel ball rolling around inside the knot of the dildo where it pressed against my G-spot. Tom was studying the look on my face as I realized my predicament, and his smile became a little more wicked. "Everything feel comfortable?" he asked.

"Yes, Master Tom."

"Good." He fiddled around near my tail a bit, I felt the waistline of the panties tighten slightly above my hips, then heard and felt a little 'snick' from above my tail, which somehow I knew was a lock clicking shut.

"Turn around"

I did, and he produced a pair of nipple loops. My nipples were already erect, so all he had to do was loop one around each nipple and tighten a small nut it until it was secure. They weren't tight enough to hurt but would keep my nipples erect. Each one had a couple of small baubles that would lie nestled in the fur below the nipple.

"We're almost done." He handed me my shirt and my shorts. "Put these back on, and once we walk out the door, you should act normal and talk with me as you would normally." I began dressing. "Be careful how much fluid you drink if you don't want a full bladder. Those panties are locked on and the key is back in Port Shelton." Two hours, minimum. I let out a small groan. "A couple more things. You may not do anything I can observe either to cause or to prevent an orgasm. You must allow them to happen or not as they may. Also, Chama doesn't know about this, so don't tell her. Your challenge is for us to get all the way back home without her finding out. If she asks what took so long when we come out, just tell her you were playing with your slave, which isn't really a lie since you asked me to do this."

"Last thing. Your punishment for not keeping your eyes averted earlier." He reached under my shirt and tightened the nipple loops one turn each. Now they hurt a little. I realized also that I would have to make sure my constantly erect nipples weren't too obvious. My shirt was just loose enough to enable me to do this if I used the right posture enough of the time. Not a problem anyway while we were at the summit since the cooler temperature up here had that effect on most of the females who weren't wearing bras, but lower down where it was warmer I'd have to be more careful.

Before he opened the door, he stopped to rub my shoulders for a few seconds. "As you have been having fun with me as your plaything these last few days, it is my privilege to have fun with you as mine. And I do feel honored that you have offered me this privilege. Remember this - my greatest desire is that you have as much fun with this as I do."

We emerged from the restroom as I pondered his last words. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like wanting to do anything to please him. The way the panties kept me worked up made the walk from the restroom to the car seem much longer than it was, and I had to concentrate hard on trying to look normal. He seemed to find this amusing. I suppressed the urge to get angry and reminded myself that this was what I had agreed to.

We arrived at the car. Chama looked a little impatient waiting beside it, but she didn't say anything. I sat in the front passenger seat and immediately noticed how much sitting down pushed the toys in the panties tighter against me and deeper inside me. There was nothing I could put beneath me, no position I could sit in, to lessen the pressure, at least not without being obvious about it. When Tom started the engine, it felt like a very subtle vibrator humming through the seat, and by the time we left the parking lot I realized how much all those little bumps and vibrations you hardly ever notice were being transferred through the seat to my pussy. It was going to be a long ride home.

We were on the second switchback when my first orgasm hit. Chama was speaking at the time and I did my best to control my breathing and appear to be listening. I managed to calm myself down, and was trying to mentally counter the effects of the constant road vibration. Most of the time it worked and I was able to keep it under control, but twice more the bumps and swerves got the better of me, sending an orgasm quaking through my body as I tried to look and act as normal as I could muster. But I also discovered, much to my chagrin, that even as I held off orgasms, I was never far from cumming, and a few minutes in that state made me want to cum. Badly. On the balance, I decided being teased was easier to handle than trying to conceal an orgasm.

Chama wanted to stop at the gift shop by the park entrance. I dreaded this but couldn't say no since I had expressed the same desire earlier and nothing she was supposed to know about had happened to justify changing our plans. When we stopped, Tom discretely gave me a towel and suggested I wipe off any excess fluids that had leaked out around the crotch of my panties. Luckily, very little had gotten onto my shorts.

Surprisingly, the stop turned out to be something of a welcome relief. Unlike the road vibration, which I had no control over, I could somewhat control the amount of stimulation I was getting while walking around, at least when I could pause for a few seconds whenever I needed to. It was gratifying to realize I was finding ways to deal with wearing these panties that were causing me so much delicious torment.

"How's my pet lynx doing?" whispered Tom, sneaking up behind me in a corner of the gift shop.

"Holding up," I replied. I could think of worse things to say, but I held my tongue. I again reminded myself that I had agreed to this knowing it meant I was for his pleasure, and that he wasn't putting me through anything he didn't think I could handle.

"Just remember to have fun. I hope you are. I know I am." He reached around in front of me and stroked my nipples through my shirt for a few seconds. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Just watching you is quite a turn-on for me." I tried to enjoy his attentions as much as I could, wishing we were alone so I could give in to my pleasure and return it in kind, instead of being flustered that I had to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.

We walked around some more when we got outside, more than I wanted to in my current situation, less than I would have preferred ordinarily. I was sure Chama would have been able to tell by now that something was different about me, and I was surprised she hadn't given any indication. I felt relieved when at last we were making our way back toward the car, but Chama had to go and spoil it with one more suggestion. "Hey, Tom, Kirin, how about we ride the carousel? I haven't been on one of those since I was a kid."

My heart sank. "I don't know."

"Aww, come on, don't be such a party pooper. It'll be fun. What do you think, Tom?"

He glanced at me, then back at Chama. "Sure, I'd love to."

Despite my position, I dared shoot him a slight glare as Chama paid for the tickets and we climbed aboard. I took a look at the fixed bench seats, but Tom took me by the waist and steered me toward one of the seahorses. He helped me up, then climbed onto the one beside me. Chama took the one on the opposite side of me (they were four abreast), so I was stuck between them. The horses had no stirrups, so almost all of my weight was on my groin and therefore the toys inside me.

The ride started. The up and down motion of the carousel horse between my legs seemed bearable enough at first, but before long it was building me up in a way that I was unable to hold off. At the top of the horse's range of movement my feet were well clear of the ground, but at the bottom, they touched down, and that taking a fraction of my weight off my bottom every few seconds made it worse. I tried holding my feet up but decided it would be too obvious if I kept it up. The ride seemed to go on and on - funny, these rides always seemed too short when I was a kid - and my arousal kept building. Just as the carousel began slowing down, my orgasm hit. I held the pole in front of me with both hands, closed my eyes, and did some controlled breathing to get through it.

When it ended I opened my eyes. Chama was looking at me. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said, trying to recover as quickly as I could.

The ocelot looked at me uncertainly, then her eyebrows went up. "Oh!" she said, and she looked back and forth between Tom and I. "Who's on top?"

By the time I understood the question, Tom had answered. "I am."

My eyes met Tom's, and I felt my ears flush. I knew I had failed the challenge and would be receiving a punishment.

"Are you ready to go home, Kirin?" he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I muttered.

A moment later, he quietly told me, "I'm still expecting you to act normal the rest of the way home." Darn. I was hoping now that Chama knew, he'd cut me a little slack now if I wasn't quite as good at hiding my orgasms.

But the rest of the ride home was different. Unlike the drive down the mountain road, traveling at higher speeds on the smooth pavement was different. The panties didn't give me any more orgasms the rest of the way home, they just kept me well teased. The steel ball inside the knot against my G-spot especially seemed to be doing a good job of keeping me wet and horny as hell without giving me the right kind of stimulation to push me over. By the time we parked the car at Tom's house I was desperate to cum. If I could just get in a few extra gyrations of my hips without Tom noticing, I'd have it made. But he was too attentive to allow that. He helped me out of the car, putting his arm around my waist as he guided me into the house.

In the dining room, he let go. "Kirin, please remove your shirt and shorts." I glanced at Chama, who was in plain view in the kitchen, then back at him. The look in his eyes was gentle but firm. I did as he had told me and handed him the clothes, noticing a big wet spot on the shorts where my pussy juice had leaked out. As I stood before him wearing only the panties and the nipple loops, he gestured down with his hand, which I understood to mean I was to kneel, which I did. "Stay there. I'll be right back." He went upstairs, leaving me alone with Chama for a couple of minutes. She glanced over at me a couple of times and smiled a little, but didn't say anything. Somehow I didn't think it was my place to start a conversation.

Tom returned with a collar, which he placed around my neck. I was acutely aware that he and Chama were fully clothed while I was wearing only a few items of fetish gear.

"Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," I replied.

"Chama, I'm going to go see if there's any messages for me in the office," he said.

"Okay, I'll work on dinner," she replied.

Tom opened the door to his office and went in. Seconds later, he returned, apparently having made sure neither Oriana nor Glenda was working late, and clipped a leash to my collar. He led me into the office, where he directed me under his desk and instructed me to remain still and quiet while he worked. It was a fairly large desk and he was able to pull up his chair and still have some legroom, but it was crowded.

"Kirin, I'd like a foot rub while I work."

"Yes, Master Tom." I gave him one, doing it the best I knew how in the position I was in. He seemed satisfied enough, not complaining any as he shuffled papers and occasionally shifted position. After about ten minutes he said I could stop working on his feet, so I remained crouched under the desk. I still hadn't had that orgasm I'd been desperate for, but sitting still gave me a chance to cool off a bit.

"Okay, Kirin, I'm about done with work for now. You know what to do with this." With that, he opened his pants and presented his cock to me. I crawled over and began working it over with my mouth, running my tongue along its most sensitive parts. He was soon fully erect and I could hear his breathing pick up. "Make sure you take it all in your mouth or on you," he said between breaths. "I don't want to see any cum on the furniture, the floor, or me." I kept going, and moments later his knot began to swell and his moaning picked up. I had his fox meat in my mouth when he climaxed. He had built up quite a load, enough to give me a mouthful, but I took most of it. Only one spurt escaped the side of my mouth and landed on my cheek. I swallowed the rest.

"Mmmm, very good," he murred, backing up his chair. "You may come out now." He gave the leash a gentle tug, and I crawled out. He looked me over warmly. "You've been doing very well, my pet." I smiled, realizing how satisfying it felt to please my master.

He peeked under the desk, then back at me, his eyes stopping momentarily on the glob of cum still clinging to my cheek behind the corner of my mouth. I tried to lick it off but couldn't reach it with my tongue. "Leave it there for now," he said. "Every time I look at you, for a little while at least, I'll see it and remember how good you were. Let's go see if dinner is ready." With that, he led me by the leash back to the dining room.

The dining room table was still empty. "It's tempting to spoon feed you or put your plate on the floor, but if you will set the table you may sit with us." I was getting into the role of the submissive enough by this time that I wouldn't have minded being spoon fed, but I took his statement as a command. Being seen by Chama with cum on my face felt different than it had when I'd done it as a joke the day before. But after Tom's earlier compliment, I liked the looks and the smiles he gave me. I smiled back and kept my mind focused on the task. I hadn't noticed the panties much during the half hour I'd been under Tom's desk, but setting the table required enough walking around that they were getting me worked up all over again by the time I finished the job. "Very good," said Tom when he saw the results. "You may wash your face now."

I did, and returned to the table, still trying not to be self-conscious of the fact that I was nearly naked and they were fully dressed. I felt jitters in my stomach, thinking of how this scene would look to an observer. For some reason, I thought back to what sorts of things I had expected to be doing on this vacation before I got here, and how far removed my present situation was from any of them.

I helped Chama serve dinner. I ate some but because of the jitters I couldn't seem to get much down.

After dinner, Tom said it was time for the punishment I'd earned earlier. He led me to the bedroom, unlocked the panties, helped me remove them, and told me I could use the bathroom. I hadn't had an orgasm since the carousel ride and he reminded me that the rule against giving myself one was still in effect.

When he returned he handed me a pair of roller skates. "Put these on. They're Chama's, but you two wear the same size so they should fit. You may put on socks if you wish. You can even borrow a pair of Chama's if you didn't bring any of the right kind. While you're doing that, I've got other preparations to make." He left. The skates were standard rink type, not the inline type, and appeared normal in every respect except that the toe stops were missing. What on earth was he planning that he was having me put these on?

The fox returned shortly after I finished putting them on. "Okay pet, stand up and follow me," he said. "Chama tells me you two used to do a lot of skating when you were kids."

"Yeah. It's been a few years." I stood up, a little unsteady on the skates. He helped me balance as he led me by the arm into the playroom. He had some instrumental modern jazz playing on the stereo.

The first thing I noticed was that he had laid a sheet of wood on the floor in the middle of the room. It was the type used by party disc jockeys for portable dance floors, similar to a sheet of plywood but with a finished surface. I had a feeling this had something to do with the skates.

He had me stand facing the counter with my legs spread, and he put a butterfly vibrator on me over my cunt, securing it snugly with one strap around my waist and one around each thigh. Then he put a cuff on my tail and had me hold my hands behind my back, crossed at the wrists beneath the tail. He cuffed my wrists together, using a short chain which was also secured to the tail cuff, apparently so the vibrator straps would be out of reach of my fingers. I was also still wearing the nipple loops.

Tom helped me to sit, then began speaking. "When you are given a challenge and are unsuccessful at it, the punishment you receive often addresses whatever caused you to fail. Since you were unable to hide your orgasms well enough, I've chosen a punishment that I expect will give you several orgasms, and will test your ability to maintain control over your body when they occur." He held up a length of cord that had something attached to one end. "The end of this cord has a ball that pulls out of a socket on this part." He demonstrated, giving the cord a tug to pull the ball out, then pushing it back in. "The socket will attach to the back of your collar. The other end of the cord I will attach to a hook in the ceiling. I'll give it a little bit of slack, but not much. The vibrator you're wearing will be plugged into a controller that will turn it on and off at random intervals. You will stand here." He pointed at the middle of the sheet of wood, and I noticed the hook in the ceiling directly above the center of it. "I will set a timer to forty-five minutes. Every time the cord pops out, I will add ten minutes to the timer. Your punishment ends when it reaches zero."

I was going through all this in my mind, making sure I understood what was expected of me, and Tom was attentive to my reactions as he explained it. My mind went back a few days to the time he masturbated me in the shower, remembering how my knees went weak when I came. And I had to stand through several orgasms while wearing roller skates? It seemed impossible. Why was he being so hard on me?

But I had trusted him not to give me more than I could handle, and I recalled something he said earlier - you can handle more than you think you can. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but the more I thought about it the more I wondered if I could pull it off. I still wanted to please him too, and realized a part of me was enjoying the fact that he was having fun with me like this.

"If you would like to wear any protective gear, or if is there anything else I can change that would make you feel safer, speak now."

"Do you have knee pads?" I asked.

He produced a pair from the closet, which he buckled onto me. The skates supported my ankles well enough that there was little risk of twisting them. I didn't think elbow pads would be helpful with my hands bound as they were, and a helmet would be more trouble that it was worth since there wasn't anything close enough to hit my head on. The carpeting under the sheet of wood would cushion any fall slightly. I had taken plenty of falls when I skated in my younger days and the worst I'd ever gotten was a bruise.

"Any questions?" he asked. I shook my head. "Okay, let's get started," he said. While I was still sitting down, he attached the socket to the back of my collar. "Lean forward until the cord pops out. This way you can feel for yourself how much tension you can put on it safely." I did, noting the pull I felt through my collar. "Good, now let me help you stand up." He did, and led me over to the sheet of wood. I found my stance, and realized that without being able to use my arms, keeping my balance was going to be tricky. He pushed the ball on the cord back into the socket on my collar, then looped the other end of the cord over the hook in the ceiling and adjusted the length of the cord. Then he plugged a wire leading from a box on the counter into the vibrator between my legs.

Without further ado, he pressed buttons on that box and the timer, and the vibrator sprang to life. I gasped, letting out a slight moan at my body's desire to melt into the sensation. It took me a few seconds to convince myself to hold my stance. Before long it had reawakened my desire for that orgasm I'd been desperate for earlier, only now I wasn't sure I wanted it as much since I was going to have to control my movements. As the pleasure was building up and I wanted to thrust my hips or drop to my knees, I was realizing what exquisite torture this was. At least I was allowed to make all the noise I wanted.

The first orgasm hit, and somehow I made it through standing. I was feeling pretty good about how well I'd maintained control, but when the second orgasm hit a few minutes later, I didn't fare so well. It seems the first time I'd been lucky when the vibrator shut off just after I reached orgasm, and the second time I wasn't prepared for how hard I would have to concentrate to remain standing when the vibrator kept running for several seconds after I peaked while I was still hypersensitive. Tom helped me up from my knees, reattached the cord, and pressed a button on the timer. Forty-three minutes, barely less than when I started.

I stood through two more orgasms, then went for a long stretch where I didn't have any. My legs and my back were beginning to feel the strain of standing and keeping my balance. I wasn't near the end of my endurance yet by any means, but there was still quite a bit of time left on the clock. Eventually I began to experiment with other ways to position my legs and feet so that not all the same muscles had to do the work all the time. I even discovered that by stretching a leg sideways I could reach the carpeting off the edge of the wood, but I could only do it with one foot at a time, and within the range of movement the cord allowed me it didn't help any as I was having to put most of my weight on the other skate which was still on the wood. I had better luck pushing one skate into the side of the other. In that position I only had to worry about one skate rolling one direction. I had to be more careful to maintain my balance with my feet that close together, and the cord didn't allow me to squat far enough to prevent the 'wings' of the butterfly vibrator from digging into my thighs, but on the balance the discomfort was worth it.

My second fall resulted from a failed experiment to find an easier position. I tried extending both legs to reach the carpeting on opposite sides of the wood. It worked, but the result wasn't quite what I'd hoped for. With my legs spread that far, the cord was taut and I had to push with my toes and strain my neck to keep it from popping out. I couldn't maintain the position for long, but I discovered to my dismay that there was no easy way to get out of it. After a couple of minutes I decided I had to risk jumping with both feet and hoping I could land standing. It was a long shot, but I gave it a try. I fell on my butt, just managing to twist enough during the fall to avoid taking any weight on the vibrator.

The timer now read thirty-two minutes. Tom gave me a sip of water before we resumed.

A couple of minutes later the disc in the stereo ended and Tom put in another one. I nearly forgot my place when I heard The Hokey Pokey coming out of the speakers. The fox chuckled when he saw my ears go flat and my eyes narrow. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said, and promptly removed it from the player, replacing it with another jazz disc.

My long orgasm-free stretch continued, though there were times when I came close. Those left me both frustrated from wanting to cum and relieved from not having to stand through it. I was developing a love/hate relationship with my orgasms. At that moment I would have given anything for one good orgasm where I could just let myself go. To make matters worse, the orgasm that ended the stretch was the type I call a wrecked orgasm, the kind where the stimulation stops just after you pass the point of no return but before it really hits, making it short and not very enjoyable. The frustration factor made that one harder to stand through than if it had been a good orgasm. The clock kept ticking down. My muscles were getting more tired, and I had to keep telling myself, just a little bit longer, just a little bit longer. That effort to keep myself standing drew my focus away from suppressing my orgasms, which I think is why I started having them again. If I couldn't stop them, at least I could still stand through them.

I had only six minutes left on the clock when things started going wrong. My left leg suddenly cramped badly, and I fell down and cried out, doubled up in pain as I tried to kick it out. Tom was beside me in an instant. "What's the matter?"

"Cramp!"

"Where?"

"Left leg." It was starting to subside.

"Okay, kick it out, and try to relax that leg."

I was trying, and was pretty sure I had it under control at least to where it wouldn't tighten up on me again, but I was having trouble getting it to relax.

He gently rolled me onto my stomach and began to rub the leg. His hands worked their magic on me, and within a couple of minutes he had given that leg a pretty good working over and it felt like the cramp was gone.

"Can you continue?"

"Yes, I think so."

He helped me stand. Sixteen minutes to go now.

Two minutes had been too short a break, and it wasn't long before I remembered how tired my legs were. Why had I just told him I could continue? As I pondered this question, I realized it wasn't about having a sexual experience any more. It was about achieving a goal, about seeing what I could get myself through when I put my mind to it. I was doing it for my pride. And, I realized, because I wanted to please Tom and make him proud of me.

I was down to nine minutes when I felt another orgasm approaching. My left leg was starting to feel like it might cramp again, something I wanted to avoid at almost any cost, and trying to keep that leg relaxed enough to prevent it in addition to everything else I had to think about to stand through an orgasm proved to be too much. I lost my balance.

Three minutes later, I fell again. I don't even remember how it happened. The timer still showed sixteen minutes, and my legs were gone. Only a few minutes ago I had been so close, and now the minutes just kept adding up. I just knelt there and hung my head, my eyes close to tears.

Tom gave me a long look as his hand hovered over the timer. But instead of hitting the button to add more time, he shut it off. He knelt beside me and put his arm around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Master," I murmured.

He looked at me warmly. "You've done well, Kirin. I'm proud of you." He unlocked and removed the cuffs. "I'm very impressed with how well you stood through your punishment." Though it was reassuring to hear him say this, I still felt disappointed in myself.

The rest of the gear, including the skates, came off. Only the collar remained, a reminder that he hadn't released me yet. I stood up, shaky but happy to be on my own feet again. "Let's go to the bedroom." There he gave me some water to drink, allowed me to use the bathroom, and instructed me to lie down on the bed. "And now for my favorite part, the reward phase. Just close your eyes and relax."

I could hear him doing something at the bar. He returned a moment later. "Okay, you may open your eyes and sit up." I did, and he handed me a glass of red wine. I inhaled the aroma and took a sip. It was very good. He drank from his own glass.

"Now, lie on your stomach." I did, and he spoke gently as he began massaging my feet. "Kirin, we're through most of what I had planned, so I would like you to speak freely about your experience. Tell me what's on your mind, what it's been like for you. I promise no punishments for anything you say."

I started with what was foremost in my mind while I was still in the submissive role. "I'm sorry I couldn't finish the punishment. I couldn't go on."

"I probably should have given you a freebie when your leg cramped."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I was afraid if I did you would wonder if you could have completed the punishment without it." I thought about that, and realized he was probably right. "Do you realize you stood long enough after that cramp for time to have run out if I had given you that one for free, so to my mind, you completed the punishment."

"Thank you, that's nice to hear. Still, it would have been nicer to see the timer run down to zero." His hands moved up as he began to work my ankles and my calf muscles. I sighed and enjoyed his ministrations for a moment before I spoke again. "I nearly came over and bopped you on the head for playing The Hokey Pokey."

"Blame Chama for that one. She did it to me once when she gave me a similar punishment."

I giggled and let out a heavy sigh before asking a more serious question. "Why did you put me through so much?"

"Hmmm, a very good question." He paused. It was as if I could feel his mind working through the touch of his fingers. "I wanted you to see for yourself what you were capable of. That you could handle things you thought were too intense, too difficult, or too embarrassing. That you could go beyond your previous limits."

"Okay."

"For more than three hours you wore a pair of panties that kept you relentlessly worked up. I had you sit at my feet and pleasure me on request. I had you kneel in a submissive posture wearing almost nothing in front of your best friend. And I gave you a physically demanding punishment that most people wouldn't have handled as well as you. If you had to do any of those things over again, do you think it would be easier for you the second time around?"

"Yes. I don't think I'd want to do the thing with the roller skates again for a while, but it was interesting. The rest I could handle again, no problem."

"How many of those things would you have agreed to beforehand if you had a choice?"

I thought a moment. "I don't know. Probably not all of them."

"Then you've just expanded your boundaries."

"Yes, I suppose I have."

"I was also paying close attention to you as we went along, watching how well you were handling it. As a matter of fact I did go easy on you a couple of times. At the beginning, that was a mild punishment I gave you for not keeping your eyes averted. And here in the playroom I thought about putting a ball gag on you along with the roller skates but decided it might be a bit much for your first time. Next time we do this I don't think I'll need to go so easy on you. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I don't know."

"Let me explain," Tom continued, warmly and patiently. "Most of the time, the best parts of subbing are giving up control and letting someone else make all the decisions, and the satisfaction you get from pleasing your master. I could see both of those things working for you. When your master is stricter with you and makes you work harder, you will get more satisfaction from pleasing him."

"I see."

Tom had worked his way up to my knees, where his talented fingers were working over the area around the joint and the kneecap. "How did you feel about when I enjoyed what I was doing to you?"

"Mostly, I had fun with it, like you said, but there were times when I got a little bit mad at you."

"Sounds about right. To be a good sub, you have to be able to have fun with it. When I'm you're slave, the best part for me is seeing how much fun you're having with it. But keep in mind also that part of the fun for a master or mistress is in getting a reaction out of their sub." He paused to take a breath. "Kirin, I'm glad you were able to enjoy letting me use you for my own desires."

"Yes, you seemed to be quite turned on by it when I had those panties on."

"Do you know what it was like for me watching you at the gift shop? I could barely keep myself from getting hard enough that it showed."

"Do you have any idea how desperate I was for release when we got home?"

"Oh yes, pet, I could tell how badly you wanted to cum, and I loved every minute of it."

A little of that anger rose up within me. As I shrugged it off, a thought occurred to me. "Was this to get back at me for making you wear the sheath?"

Another pause. "Not really. People who play both the dominant and the submissive roles often like having the same sort of things done to them as a submissive as they like to do to others when they're dominant. I was merely applying that principle. Besides, if you have a partner you switch roles with sometimes, you have to be very careful about taking out revenge on them for something they did last time. It can be used to good effect when handled properly, but you don't want to get carried away with it."

"Do you and Chama ever switch roles?"

"Yes, I've topped her many times. We do it for a whole week once a year, and have shorter sessions more often, usually for a day once a month. It's a nice change of pace and it helps us keep in touch with each other's roles. Most of the time, I'm happy to be Mistress Chama's plaything."

I sighed. Tom was now working higher up my thighs. I was realizing that in some ways, subbing to Tom was the most fulfilling part of my trip so far. After some of the things Chama had told me about him, what he put me through was nothing compared to what he would put himself through, and it gave me a better appreciation of him.

"I have a confession to make," I said.

"What's that?"

"The other night, when I agreed not to use the sheath on you again if you'd wait until morning to cum..."

"Yes, what about it?"

"I was already not planning to use it again. I just wanted to see if you'd bite."

I was expecting him to do something like tickle me or pinch me, but he didn't. "That was fair. Sneaky, but fair."

"Am I in trouble now?"

"Why should you be in trouble. You didn't have to tell me and I never would have known the difference. Besides, that's one of the tactics tops sometimes use to see how their subs will react."

"Oh, okay."

"So answer me this. Why did you tell me?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"I promised no punishment for anything you said, but I get the impression you're feeling a little guilty."

"What!?" I replied. "Do you think I want to be punished?"

"You tell me. What sort of punishment do you think I would give you?"

"I don't know. A spanking, maybe." As I said it, I realized his hands had just about reached that part of me, as though they were keeping an appointment with some secret desire of mine. My thoughts reeled. Why had I just confessed to something I could have kept to myself? I also realized I was wet again, and my legs were spread enough that he could probably tell too.

He leaned forward and practically cooed in my ear. "Again I ask, do you think you deserve a punishment?"

My heart was pounding. Once again, he had managed to anticipate me, to see meanings in my words I wasn't sure I wanted to reveal. He had read me. And suddenly the words just spilled out. "Yes, Master Tom. I tricked you into waiting until morning for your orgasm. I deserve a spanking."

His voice warmed my ears as he continued to work on my thighs and butt with his hands. "I don't think you deserve a punishment for that. I've put you through enough already. Once I release you and become your slave again, you are free to order me to spank you, but as long as you're mine, what I'm doing now is how I want to treat you." There was something else in his voice, something I couldn't quite make out. As his hands continued up to my hips and lower back, much as I was enjoying the massage I found myself wishing he would give me a few good, hard smacks on the rear, anything to assuage my guilt, and felt frustrated that he wouldn't do so. Most of the time I would give anything for a massage this good. How had my mind gotten so twisted up that I found myself wishing for a spanking instead?

"Something else I'll let you in on," he continued. "When I told you the key for the panties was back here, what I really meant was that you should assume that's true, that as long as you're playing the role of the sub, you should not question it or allow for any other possibility. In fact I had the key in the camera bag the whole time. If you had safeworded, or if the scene clearly didn't work out as I had anticipated, we could have ended it at any time."

"Did you think I might not go through with it?"

"I was pretty sure you would, enough that I thought about leaving the key at home, but since it was your first time as a sub, I decided to play it safe. In the future, there's a good chance I really will leave the key at home."

"You sound like you expect to do this again."

"I was thinking, on one of your future visits, instead of you being my mistress I could be your master. Do you think you would enjoy a whole week as my slave?"

"Do you think you could handle a whole week as my master?"

"When I've got you for a week as my plaything, I'm going to have a lot of fun with you." As smoothly as he said it, I wasn't sure which I felt more, fear or anticipation.

He continued working his way up my back and had reached my shoulder blades. "I don't have anything else planned after this, but I'm sure I could think of something. What do you think?"

I stole a page from him. "Whatever pleases you, Master."

He finished the back rub, having me sit up as he massaged my neck and shoulders. Then the fox handed me my glass of wine, which I sipped on, and sat, lost in thought. I thought about asking what was on his mind, but before I got the chance, his face changed, and he looked at me with a mischievous grin. "A few minutes ago, were you really feeling guilt, or did you just want a spanking?"

"I don't know. A little of both, I guess."

"Because I've changed my mind. I'm going to give you that spanking after all." I felt a jolt go through my pussy. "But not for the reason you asked for it."

I looked at him, puzzled. "What is your reason."

"Let me explain it this way. If you were my mistress for a week and you asked me what I enjoyed most, what I liked best, how I wanted to be treated, and you did all of those things, then we would probably have an enjoyable but not particularly memorable week. But if you spent the week just doing to me whatever you wanted most, things that would challenge me, frustrate me, surprise me, then I would find the week more fulfilling, more memorable, and much more enjoyable in the end. I have a lot more fun with a mistress who isn't afraid to be selfish, devious, even a little sadistic with me. When you teased me unmercifully for three hours and then made me wait until morning before I could cum, yes, it was very frustrating at the time, but it's the best thing you've done to me so far, and is precisely the sort of thing I hope you'll do more of. Apologizing for it is the last thing I would want you to do. And for that, my pet, I am going to spank you."

I shrugged and looked away. "Well, I don't feel that guilty about it. And a little guilt would never stop me from doing it again. You're too much fun to play with." I gave him a sly grin.

He smiled at me warmly. "Well, Kirin, I'm glad to hear you say that." His smile turned mischievous. "But it's too late to talk your way out of this one, and I think you need a good spanking to really drive the point home. Wouldn't you agree, pet?"

My eyes widened in disbelief momentarily, but then I swallowed, and finally said the only thing that seemed appropriate. "Yes, Master Tom."

He instructed me to kneel facing the bed with my knees apart, and to lay my upper body on the bed. "Here's how it works. You must remain quiet and perfectly still. Anytime you move even a little bit, I will give you a good smack on the rear, and anytime I hear a sound out of you, you will also get one. Each time I spank you, I want you to recite the number aloud. If you give me the wrong number, I spank you again, until you give the correct number, and that's counting the ones for saying the wrong number. We will continue until the count reaches twenty. Anytime you reach orgasm, I'll allow you a few seconds to move around and make as much noise as you want before we continue. If you earn twenty swats without having an orgasm, you will not be allowed to have one until morning and I won't release you until then."

I almost said "Yes, Master," but thought he might already be counting, so I played it safe.

He began caressing my cunt, teasing my clitty with little circles of his finger. "If you do end up having to wait until morning, I think I'll have you wear the same pair of panties you had on this afternoon to bed tonight."

I let out a small groan at that announcement. I felt his hand leave my cunt, then SMACK! There was a long pause before I remembered what I was supposed to do next. "One!"

I tried my best to keep still, but he was making it extremely difficult. The first time he pushed his finger all the way into my cunt, I couldn't stop myself from thrusting my hips a tiny bit. SMACK! "Two!"

I told myself this shouldn't be any harder than what I'd already been through today, and if I relaxed and kept my focus I should be able to handle it. What almost undid me was that the idea of having to wear the panties overnight made it oddly tempting to fail on purpose. I made up my mind not to give in to it and focused my mind on relaxing and keeping still, figuring I could still choose to wear them once he released me.

He knew just how to stroke me to make it as difficult as possible to hold still, and a couple of small slip-ups had me up to four by the time I began to feel an orgasm building. From there on it was more difficult. SMACK! "Five!" The sting of the spankings was starting to warm my cunt as well, helping me along. It was building, and I couldn't suppress a moan. SMACK! "Six!" Building... Building... A wiggle. SMACK! "Six!" Oops. SMACK! "Eight!" My rear was on fire, and the two swats in rapid succession put me real close. It was so very hard to stay still. My back started to arch. SMACK! "Nine!" As soon as his fingers touched my clit, I went over the edge. Wave after wave coursed through me as I had my most powerful orgasm of the day so far. As promised, I wasn't penalized for any of the squirming or moaning from the orgasm, and I did plenty of both. Tom smiled at me.

"Congratulations, you made it," he said. Once the orgasm subsided, an incredible feeling of victory washed over me. I had finally succeeded at one of my Master's challenges. "You've still got eleven to go. Let's see how many more orgasms you can get out of them."

Since I had already won I didn't have to concentrate as hard, and that helped me enjoy it more. I was at fourteen when I had my second orgasm, and at eighteen when I had my third. I was getting close again moments later when I earned my last one. SMACK! "Twenty! Please keep going!" I begged. He obliged. I gave up all pretense of trying to keep still or quiet, and he began swatting me almost continuously, keeping his other hand busy on my cunt as he did so. About ten swats later, I had my most powerful orgasm of the night.

My bottom was on fire and my head was swimming from the four orgasms I'd just had. "Don't move yet, pet," he said. "One last thing before I release you." Then he knelt behind me, and his cock slid into my dripping pussy. He began thrusting wildly. "While you were having so much fun, I got pretty worked up too," he grunted as he rode me hard. I was my Master's plaything, his fucktoy, and I was immensely pleased with myself that I had driven him to the point where he couldn't hold back using me to get himself off anymore. I reveled in this as I felt his knot begin to swell. His breath became more ragged and his thrusting got rougher. Finally, he groaned loudly as his cock erupted into my cunt.

As he slowed down, he hugged me from behind and I felt his hot breath on my ears. "Mmmm, my final act with you as my pet." With that, he reached up to my neck, undid the collar, and removed it. "Is there anything else you'd like of me, Mistress Kirin?"

We still had half the bottle of wine left, so we went downstairs to find a snack to have with it. We shared cheese and crackers with Chama, who was still up watching television. It occurred to me that she'd probably heard some of what Tom and I had been doing upstairs, but I didn't care anymore.

It was late, and we went to bed shortly afterward. I told him of my earlier dilemma about failing the last challenge on purpose so I'd have to wear the panties to bed. The idea of wearing them still appealed to me, and he helped me into them. At least now I could make myself cum or take them off anytime I wanted to. And because of that, the experience of wearing them didn't have quite the same intensity as it would have had I not had those options. But even if it wasn't the same as being forced to do it at someone else's whim, it was still enjoyable. As I lay beside the fox, both of my holes again feeling full and stretched, with a steel ball rolling around against my G-spot and little rubber fingers stimulating my clit at the slightest movement, I thought aloud. "I understand a lot better now what you find so appealing about being someone else's slave."

"You were curious. I could have tried to explain, but to understand it you had to experience it."

"You do realize, don't you, " I purred, "that by spanking me for being too apologetic, you've challenged me to do worse on my next visit. And I'll have lots time to think of ways to make your life hell."

"Of course. I would expect nothing less. Now I shall really look forward to that visit."

Friday

I only brought myself off once that night. I probably would have done more if I hadn't been so tired, not to mention that having more than a dozen orgasms the day before had left me rather sated. I removed the panties when I had to use the bathroom at about 4:00 in the morning. Between the previous evening's activities and wearing them most of the night, I thought I had developed quite an odor, but I was too tired to do anything about it, deciding I wouldn't be upset if Tom found it too offensive.

Apparently he didn't. "You're as enthusiastic as ever," I mumbled as I crossed over from sleep to waking.

"You have the most wonderful aroma this morning," he told me between licks, "and I couldn't wait to partake of it at its source."

"I didn't get a chance to clean up," I said, thinking surely he must be joking.

"And I'm so glad you didn't. All the more for me to savor." His tongue continued to caress my whole pubic region in long, languorous strokes. If he liked the way I smelled and tasted that much, I wasn't about to complain about it.

I remained in bed while he dressed for work, and I once again witnessed his transformation from pleasure slave to attorney. When he finished, he approached me again. "May I wear some of your perfume today?"

I wasn't sure what he meant, but, "Yeah, sure."

He pulled back the cuff on one sleeve of his shirt. Next he reached between my legs and ran a finger back and forth across my cunt a couple of times, then dipped it inside and withdrew a wet finger. Finally, he rubbed it into a spot on the fur on the inside his wrist. He repeated this a couple of times, gave it a good sniff, and turned to me. "Excellent. Thank you. That's enough for me, and little enough that no one else will notice. Now anytime I want to today I can take a little sniff and have salacious thoughts of my mistress whose every desire I serve."

I gave him an amused grin. "I think you have enough salacious thoughts of me as it is."

"Why thank you," he grinned, "but what I just did, I've done every morning when I woke you up. You just didn't know about it until now."

* * *

Having submitted to Tom in front of Chama, I no longer felt inhibited talking to her about anything that happened between him and I. The muscles in my legs and lower back were sore from standing on roller skates for more than an hour, while my rear was only slightly sore from the spanking. "How common is it," I asked her, "for someone to want to be spanked?"

"Fairly common," she replied. "Yours sounds like it was pretty mild. Bianca loaned me to a guy once for a week who was very much into spanking and an expert at it."

"Oh, really? What was that like?"

"From the first spanking until about three days after I returned, I couldn't sit comfortably."

"That must have been awful!"

"If it were, I wouldn't have called him an expert. He had a private session with me, and after a few minutes of mostly talking, he started spanking and teasing and more spanking and more teasing. He made it last about forty-five minutes and made me cum two or three times. He left me with a very sore bottom, and every time I felt it or tried to sit was a reminder of what an incredibly mind blowing experience it was. Exactly a day later, he was back asking if I would spend five days with him. My choice. I said yes. I found out later he had arranged it with Bianca the day before and asked her not to say anything until he came back for me. He spanked me about once a day. He varied what spanking implements he used and sometimes bound or blindfolded me, but he always made it an intensely erotic experience. I think he enjoyed the challenge of taking someone like me who isn't even that much into spanking and getting me to practically beg him to do it again. That's what I mean when I say he's an expert spanker. It's not something I'd want to do on a regular basis, and I think he knew that and wanted to do his best in the time he had me. But if I had the chance to do it again, I would probably accept."

"Sounds... interesting. I wouldn't know whether to be afraid or turned on."

"I know what you mean. He had that effect on me."

"I don't think I'm one of those people who's really into spanking. Still, it felt really weird with Tom last night, me wanting to be punished like that. I was actually looking for a way to feel like I deserved it."

Chama pondered that a minute. "Did he tell you about his panty fetish?"

My ears canted forward. "No, what about it?"

She gave me an amused smile. "'Travis' sometimes has this irresistible urge to steal my panties. Sometimes he's pretty covert about it; other times he practically tears them off my body. He always gets caught sooner or later, and then I have to punish him for it."

"No, I hadn't seen that side of him."

"The thing is, Tom doesn't really have a panty fetish." I noted the shift in which name she used. "Punishments are often fun in their own way, and most subs, especially one as submissive as Tom, enjoy a good punishment now and then. But he needs to feel like he's misbehaved and done something to deserve it, and most of the time he's too obedient and attentive to earn one. So we invented this game. Anytime 'Travis' wants to be punished and there's nothing else offhand he can do to earn one, he steals my underwear."

"Interesting." I shook my head, wondering how much more there was to him I still had no inkling of. "New subject. Yesterday when you suggested the carousel ride, did you already know what was going on between Tom and I?"

"Yes, and Tom knew I knew."

"Did he tell you?"

"No, I figured it out on my own."

"When did you figure it out?"

"I could tell something was up between you two when you came back from the restroom at the summit. By the time you got in the car, I was pretty sure you had switched roles. It took me until the gift shop to figure out what his game was. I've worn those panties a few times myself."

"So why the carousel?"

"Since you hadn't said anything and were trying to look normal, I guessed he had told you not to tell me. It sounds like something he'd do. So I figured I'd give you a sporting chance and keep quiet as long as you weren't too obvious, but there were a couple of things that were hard to miss, and I decided it was time to flush you out."

I glared at her. "That was mean."

She smirked at me. "Do you know your ears turn a different shade of pink when you're cumming?"

I covered my ears with my hands and put my head on the table. "Oh, gods, why did you have to tell me that?"

As we talked more, I confessed that I needed to think of something interesting to do with Tom that evening. The ocelot looked at me with a gleam in her eye. "I've got an idea, but I'll need you both to sub to me."

"Why am I suddenly worried?"

"Relax. This one doesn't involve bondage or anything physically demanding. It's simple and you'll both have a lot of fun with it."

"What..."

"Sorry, that's as much as I'm telling. If you want to know the rest, you'll have to submit."

* * *

Tom and Glenda joined us for lunch. About half of the conversation was between the two of them about legal stuff, including a home sale closing they'd handled that morning in the office. Chama offered to take some records downtown to be filed at the courthouse, but Glenda said she needed to get copies of records for some other clients Tom had on his calendar for Monday.

I had hoped to snag him for a few minutes for a backrub to work on some of the sore muscles from the night before, but with Glenda present I didn't think it was a good time to bring it up. I mentioned this to Chama afterwards, and she was kind enough to give me the backrub herself. She had done it for Tom many times and was quite good at it.

When Tom returned from his office at the end of the day I told him I had agreed to let Chama top us. He wanted to take us out to dinner again. Chama said that was fine, there would be plenty of time when we got back, and we had another excellent meal at one of Port Shelton's finest.

When we returned, Tom and I submitted. She had us both remove our clothes, then dismissed Tom, telling him she'd let him know when she was ready for him, and had me lay back on the bed, legs spread and knees bent. She inserted a dilator tube into me, explaining that it was a medical instrument used to apply an ointment to the inside of the vagina. She opened a dropper bottle and put several drops from it into the tube, and I felt a cool sensation in my cunt similar to what I felt in my mouth when I sucked on menthol cough drops. She moved the tube around to spread the ointment, and the cool sensation gradually changed to a puckerish, astringent feeling. "This will take a few minutes. Just keep still," she told me. I could tell the ointment was being absorbed through the walls of my cunt as the sensation intensified. It wasn't particularly arousing, nor was it all that unpleasant; it was just different. I couldn't tell what the ointment was doing to my cunt. She frequently moved the tube around a little to spread the ointment around more evenly. After about ten minutes, she removed the tube and inserted her finger. Then she replaced the tube and added more of the ointment. A few minutes later she repeated this, adding only a little bit this time. She continued to check me with her finger every few minutes. Somehow it made me think of a cook checking a sauce, adding more spices until it tasted right. Finally, more than a half hour after she had begun, she smiled at me. "Okay, I think you're ready. You're really going to enjoy this. Time to go get Travis."

Chama left, and returned with him a moment later. The ocelot then addressed both of us. "From what I can tell, you two have been going at it like bunnies the last few nights, and I couldn't be happier for you that you get it on so well." He and I looked at each other with a mixture of pride and embarrassment at this pronouncement. "With both of you under me I can think of several ways to exploit that, and I probably will sometime in the future if I get the chance, but for tonight I wanted to try out this ointment I've used on Kirin. Travis, you might want to forgo eating pussy for tonight. I doubt if the ointment will hurt you, but I don't think it would taste very good. What I want you two to do next is screw, Kirin on top. There's no rush, so if you need a few minutes of foreplay, that's fine."

We talked some as we nibbled and caressed each other. "I feel funny doing this in front of Chama," I said to him.

"Just focus on me," he said. "We don't need to put on a show."

I took his advice, pretending we were alone and ignoring Chama as much as I could. She didn't seem to mind. If she'd performed in front of large crowds at Bianca's, surely I could handle this. The strange feeling in my cunt didn't go away as my arousal increased but it didn't get in the way either. Before long we were both ready.

He lay back, and I mounted him. I lowered my eager cunt onto his throbbing member, and by the time the head was inside me it was obvious what was different. Travis groaned with pleasure. "Unngh, Kirin, you're so tight."

He was right. It was still the same size, but his cock felt like the thickest I'd ever had. I drew in a breath, and had to raise and lower myself several times before I had him completely inside me. "Oh, Tom, I feel really full," I gasped.

Chama, who had been watching us more attentively since I had climbed on top, spoke again. "You two seem to be having quite a time. Now Kirin, I want you to keep riding him, but keep it shallow and keep him most of the way inside you."

To say it felt incredible was an understatement. I tried to squeeze him, but the way the ointment had tightened my cunt muscle it didn't seem to make much difference. The fox's knot swelled inside me as I rode him, and I could really feel it this time, much more so than before. Judging from the way he squirmed and moaned he must have felt it too. He didn't need much more humping, and after only a couple more minutes he pumped me full of his sperm.

After a few seconds to recover, I tried to lift up, and that was when we discovered the true purpose of Chama's little scene. "Tom, I can't relax my cunt any more. Your knot is too big to slide out."

Tom gave me a look that held a mixture of lust and resignation. "In other words, we're tied." This would be normal between canids, for whom the knot on the male's penis causes the female's vaginal muscle to contract involuntarily, locking it inside until the knot subsides. Felid males don't have knots, and females retain enough voluntary control over their vaginal muscles that they can relax them and thus don't become tied when mating with canids. With her ointment, Chama had found a way to override it.

She was grinning from ear to ear when we looked over at her. She came over to stroke both of us on our heads. "I'll leave it to the two of you to work out how to get yourselves separated. According to the label, the ointment wears off after six to eight hours, which is about 2:00 a.m. I will expect you two to get tied and separated at least three more times between now and then, and in the morning you can tell me how it went." She gave us a wink. "Have fun." And with that, she walked out, leaving us alone.

"How long will it take your knot to go away?" I asked him.

"Only a few minutes, if we hold real still. But until it does, my cock head is real sensitive and it doesn't take much to keep me aroused or even to make me cum again."

His cock still felt so good inside me, the temptation to slide up and down on it was strong. "If you do, does that count?"

"I don't think so. She said we had to separate."

"Do you think she really means for us to do that?"

"We'd better assume she does. If we look at all like we have something to hide in the morning, she'll ask."

"Yeah, Chama's funny that way," I mused. "Always was."

It turned out to be not all that difficult to stay still long enough for his knot to shrink so we could separate. We got ourselves tied and separated again easily enough, what Chama would count as the first time, and it became apparent that we would meet her requirement. Tom said she probably never meant for it to be challenging for us, only fun, and in that she had succeeded. After taking a breather for a few minutes, we fucked and got ourselves tied again. This time after his orgasm subsided, I made no attempt to keep still, giving in to my desires to ride his cock some more while I felt so full. "If I'm going to have something trapped inside me, I'm going to have some fun with it, and nothing beats a real live cock," I purred. "Especially if it's yours." I wiggled my hips to emphasize the point.

"Likewise, Mistress... gasp... there's no place I rather have my cock trapped... gasp... than inside your pussy."

So even while we were both sub to Chama, he still called me Mistress. "Well, Travis, as long as your feeling so 'knotty', how can I resist the urge to make you feel good?"

With just a little bit of movement I could keep him perpetually near another orgasm, and even gave him several mini-orgasms, similar to what would normally happen if he were tied with another canid. After about the third one, he said, "If you keep that up, I'll just have to claw your rear end."

"Mmmm, that would just be egging me on."

"I know, but I'll do it anyway." Which he did.

After he had a couple more, he reached around front and began making little circles around my clitty with his thumb, eventually bringing me to orgasm. We both kept doing our thing, but eventually, after being tied nearly an hour, he was spent enough that his knot subsided of its own accord.

We had plenty of time left for round three, so we went downstairs and watched the late news with Chama while we gave our bodies time to rebound. "How's it going?" she asked.

"Two down, one to go," I replied. "You'll have to try this some time."

"I have, alone. I plan to with Travis but for this time I wanted it to be a surprise for him as well as for you." She didn't belabor the subject, and we went on to talk about other things.

Back upstairs, Tom and I wanted to get our obligatory third time out of the way, so just for grins we decided to see if we could tie and separate without him cumming. Not only were we able to, but it was easier than it probably would have been if he had reached orgasm. "We should've thought of that earlier," I remarked.

"I don't think it would have worked as well if I hadn't already cum a few times," he replied.

He was probably right, but at any rate, we had completed Chama's challenge and were free now to do whatever we wanted. Having taken my turn earlier, I let him have me any way he wanted. He took me from behind, and his inability to thrust in and out as far as usual caused him to claw my hips harder. It felt good. He rode me until we'd had three more orgasms apiece, staying tied the whole time. Exhausted, we lay down in the spoons position, still tied, and I fell asleep with him inside me.

Saturday

I barely remember his cock sliding out, despite the flood of juices that followed it. I was too tired to do anything to prevent them from getting matted in my fur. Tom didn't seem to mind in the least. To him, it was all the reason he needed to give me a more thorough tongue bath in the morning. The ointment had worn off, but the muscles in my cunt still felt a little tight.

Despite his best efforts with his tongue, I felt in need of a shower. I came out feeling refreshed, my fur still a little damp, and began picking out my clothes for the day. When I opened the underwear drawer, there were no panties left. Funny, I could have sworn I still had three clean pair. On a hunch, I checked my dirty laundry and found none there, either.

Pulling my shirt on, I marched downstairs. "Travis!"

His eyes shifted around guiltily. "Yes, Mistress?"

"My underwear seems to be missing. Do you know anything about that?"

His eyes flickered. "Laundry?" he squeaked.

"Nice try, but that doesn't explain the clean ones that were in the drawer."

"Well you see, Mistress," he stammered, "they're just so pretty, and they smell like you, and sometimes..." He swallowed, and his eyes darted around. "Sometimes I just can't resist."

It was hard not to smile since I knew it was all an act, but I tried my best to play the part of the stern mistress, addressing him with my fists on my hips. "You know you're not supposed to steal your Mistress's panties, don't you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And now I'm going to have to punish you for it."

He hung his head. "Yes, ma'am."

I leashed him and led him upstairs, where he retrieved all my panties from a stash in the closet and put them in a pile on the bed. I left them there and went back downstairs for breakfast, still wearing nothing from the waist down, Travis behind me on leash. By the time I finished breakfast, I had a punishment in mind.

Travis was tied to the bed spread-eagled, and I had strapped a small vibrator to the sensitive underside of his shaft. Overhead was a length of cord which I had passed through all ten pair of my panties hanging between two hooks in the ceiling. At the moment they were all bunched up at one end.

I turned on the vibrator and spoke to him gently. "I'm not that upset about you stealing my underwear. I suppose I'm a little bit flattered that you find my undergarments so irresistible." I ran my fingers through the white chest fur up to his neck, and gave him a warm gaze. "So I'm not sure if this will turn out to be a punishment or a reward." The vibrator was starting to have an effect on him. "I guess we'll see." I let the vibrator do its thing. I wasn't trying for prolonged teasing this time, just getting him to orgasm. It didn't take long; a couple of minutes later, his hips bucked as his cum spurted onto his belly. I turned off the vibrator, leaving the cum where it landed. "How was that?"

He grinned sheepishly, still recovering his breath. "Nice."

His eyes followed me as I reached up, grabbed the first pair of panties, and slid it to the other end of the cord. "That's one." The expression on his face was priceless as he looked back at the remaining nine pair. "Like I said, foxie, I'm not sure if this is punishment or reward. You can tell me when it's over. I'll let you rest another minute, then we'll start on number two."

After that, he appeared to accept his punishment and lay back and enjoy the orgasms as best he could, which he did for a while. He soon had a puddle of cum on his front. Somewhere around number six, he was getting that overwhelmed, 'I don't think I can stand another' look. A few days earlier I might have felt sorry for him and stopped after one or two more, but now I understood he didn't want me to go easy on him.

Though the volume of cum dropped off steadily, it appeared the intensity of the orgasms he was experiencing did not. If anything, they were getting stronger. After number nine, he was looking pretty wrung out. During the break before I restarted the vibrator for number ten, I studied him closely. His ears were wilted, his brow was furrowed, and he seemed to be somewhere else mentally. "Ready for the last one?" I asked. His eyelids flickered, he looked at me, and I saw the light still in his eyes.

He seemed to fare better through his last orgasm than the two previous ones. When it was over, I removed the vibrator, and with my hand removed the excess cum that clung to his cock head, then began rubbing it along with the rest of the ten orgasms' worth of cum into his chest and belly fur. Stroking him between the ears, I spoke to him softly. "Done at last, Travis. So tell me, did it feel like a reward or a punishment?"

"Both."

"Do you think you've learned your lesson?"

"Yes, Mistress Kirin. Thank you for correcting me," he said. Though he looked bedraggled, he exuded a sense of accomplishment.

"You're welcome. You smell like cum."

His nose twitched. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"It seems appropriate, and besides, I like that smell, so you can stay that way for a while." I began releasing his hands and feet. "No clothes and no washing without permission."

"As you wish, Mistress."

I took down the panties and put on one of the clean pair, along with a pair of shorts. He walked a little awkwardly as we left the bedroom to head downstairs. I supposed he was going to feel a dull ache in his loins for a while.

For the rest of the morning and afternoon he was more attentive than ever, always ready to do whatever I asked better than I expected, offering to do things for me I hadn't thought to ask for, and keeping to the background enough that I didn't find his attentions too suffocating. The things he did for me were generally not sexual, with the exception of the time right after lunch when I had him come upstairs and eat me to two orgasms. He was a lot like he had been the first two days of my visit, only now I understood where he was coming from much better than I had then.

Mid-afternoon the three of us took a walk downtown and along the waterfront. I had to let Tom clean up and revert to his public self, but I wanted to see something other than the inside of his house for at least a couple of hours and didn't mind releasing him from his role. Tom showed me one of his favorite galleries, one that was easy to miss if you didn't know it was there.

When we returned, it was only seconds flat before he was kneeling at my feet wearing only his collar. "What's got you so anxious to be my slave?"

He looked up at me with warmth and adoration. "Mistress Kirin, I have less than a day left to serve and to pleasure you, and I want to make it the best I can."

"Persistent, aren't you, Travis? If you don't give me a little space, I might have to do something about it. There's a whole room full of toys upstairs..."

He looked at me coyly. "You tempt me, Mistress."

I let out a heavy sigh. "Should we just skip the preliminaries and go deal with it now?"

Travis shrugged. "If it pleases my Mistress."

Upstairs, I told him to keep his eyes averted as I searched through the toys, trying to decide which ones to use. I started with a butt plug large enough that it had to be a little bit uncomfortable. It took some effort and elicited a few groans from him as I inserted it, but when it was in and he resumed his submissive posture, the look of mischief on his face was undiminished and his member was out of its sheath at half mast. I followed with a cock cage that had a ball stretcher collar. He was undeterred. Finally, I put one of the chained pairs of nipple clamps on him and tightened them. A hint of pain was now evident on his face, but there was also a sort of bliss and that ever-present glint of mischief. There weren't many more things I could put on him that didn't involve restraint, and I didn't want to do that at the moment.

I looked down at the fox, exasperated. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Whatever do you mean, Mistress?"

"You know darn well what I mean! All I needed was for you to back off a little. What does it take to convince you?"

"Not much, Mistress. All you have to do is ask."

"I..." My face dropped. "...didn't, did I?"

"Not until now."

"Well, if you had said something earlier, I wouldn't have put all this stuff on you."

He gave me an adoring, almost thankful look. "I would be pleased wear this stuff for no more reason than that my Mistress found it entertaining."

"I get the feeling this is what you wanted all along and you tricked me into doing it to you."

He gave me a look of mock innocence. "Me? Trick you?"

"Maybe 'trick' isn't the word for it, but you got me to do something to you I probably wouldn't have done."

He smiled. "You should see how I handle people on the witness stand."

That sudden reminder that he was an attorney derailed my train of thought, and it took me a minute to get it back on track. "Well, if we're ever in the same courtroom, I hope we're on the same side. Now, however, since you seem to be such a glutton for punishment, you can just keep wearing those toys, and I've got one more thing to add." I had him face away from me again, then opened the vial of cinnamon oil, putting a tiny bit on each index finger. Approaching him from behind I reached around, using my other fingers to find his nipples, and applied the oil to them where they were exposed between the clamps. It didn't hit him immediately, but a few seconds later I felt his intake of breath as he began to feel the heat.

"Now Travis, I appreciate your efforts to please me, but when we go back downstairs I will expect some moderation, so don't hover so close. The rest of the time I shall find you amusing to watch in your present state, since that seems to be what you wanted all along. Do you understand?"

He was beaming at me. "Yes, Mistress."

Sitting at the dinner table must have been uncomfortable for him with that butt plug. I suspect he would have preferred to stand or kneel, but I insisted he sit properly like Chama and I. He seldom showed any discomfort, and when he did I sometimes wondered if it was more for my gratification than from any real discomfort he may have been experiencing. Nevertheless, he was much more moderate in his servitude to me, and when he offered me a glass of wine I invited him to pour himself one too.

Among the things we had been doing around the house that day were the laundry, and all of my panties were now clean except the pair I had on. As I was separating my clothes from theirs in preparation for packing, I had a sudden inspiration. "Tom, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Mistress."

"I know about your panty fetish game, but how much do women's panties really interest you?"

"You mean wearing them or just having them?"

"Let me put it this way. Would you be interested in me giving you a pair as a souvenir? What you do with them is entirely up to you."

"Yes, I would, Mistress."

"Okay." I pointed to my pile of underwear. "Choose any pair, and I will prepare them for you."

He immediately picked up a frilly mint green pair. "This pair," he said.

I held them up. "That's the pair I had on the day you topped me. Is that why you chose them?"

He grinned at me. "Yes."

I recalled how wet I had gotten them the final moments I had them on before they disappeared into his camera bag. I was tempted to ask what else he had done with them before returning them to the laundry, but decided not to. "Okay, later we'll do something with them."

The fox was kind enough to fold the rest of the pile along with all of my other clothes from the day's laundry. It was still early evening, so we rejoined Chama and played board games for a while.

Later when we were back upstairs, I stripped and put on the pair of panties he had selected, along with a tight midriff shirt that I hoped made my breasts look enticing. He was still wearing the toys so I removed them and licked his nipples to remove the remaining traces of the cinnamon oil. This got him aroused again, so I fondled his cock some more, admiring its appearance, enjoying the way it felt in my hand and recalling how it felt when it was inside my pussy. Though it wasn't in my plans for tonight, I'd have to make sure it found its way there at least once more before I left.

"Okay, Tom, once these come off, they're yours," I said, running my hand over the panties. "As long as I'm wearing them, I invite you to do anything you like to get me wet or make me cum."

"It would be my pleasure, Mistress," he replied.

He started out nibbling on my ears and neck while running his hands down my sides and over my butt. His hands went on to roam elsewhere, and he paid attention to enough different parts of me and did it gently enough that it didn't feel like a grope fest, but he spent plenty of time caressing my breasts, cupping my mound through the panties and running a finger along the cleft, squeezing my rear, teasing the sensitive spot under the base of the tail, and generally working me up to a frenzy. "Do you mind if we go to the playroom?" he breathed in my ear.

"No." We did, and he put some music on the stereo. He lay me down on one of the futons, where after a couple more minutes of caresses, he pushed my shirt up and began expertly working over my nipples. I was pretty wet anyway, but he was very good with his lips and tongue, and within minutes I was really soaked. He had also been making circles around my clit through the panties, and presently he worked his hand down the front of them, reveling in how slick and soaked I was.

Bringing his other hand up to play with a nipple, he moved his mouth up to my neck, then removed the hand from my panties. Seconds later, it was back, only it wasn't empty. I let out a moan as I felt a ball slide inside my cunt. His hand withdrew, and returned with a second ball, pushing both of them deep inside me, all the while nibbling on my neck and playing with my nipple. I wiggled my hips experimentally and confirmed my suspicion; they were ben wa balls.

The song on the stereo ended, and as the next one began, Tom backed up to a kneeling position and extended a hand. I took it, and after he helped me sit up, he gazed at me with a warm smile. "May I have this dance?"

"I'd love to," I replied. He pulled me to my feet, I straightened my shirt, and we began.

I'd experimented with ben wa balls twice before and my experience didn't bear out the stories I'd heard of them causing continuous orgasms. The first time, they didn't do anything for me and I took them out after only a few minutes. The second time I left them in longer and discovered they had a slow, subtle teasing effect that eventually got me extremely wet. My first dance with Tom was a waltz, and I had been pretty wet to begin with, but by the end of the song, their effect was noticeable. "They keep wanting to slide out," I told him.

He stepped away to the cabinet and pulled something out of a drawer, which he brought to me. "Here, put these on over those. It'll help."

I did. It was a pair of latex panties that covered more area than my panties but fit tighter, particularly across my mound. I bounced and wiggled a little. "Much better."

We danced through several more songs together. Just to dance with Tom would have been a wonderful, romantic experience by itself, and to experience the gentle, relentless tease of the ben wa balls through any comparable activity would have been highly erotic on its own. To have both at the same time was beyond description. I melted into him, and as I paid attention to my dancing and let Tom lead, the teasing was less of a distraction, which simply meant I could keep going longer and let them build me up that much more before their effects made it impossible for me to concentrate. Tom, for his part, was obviously turned on by the state I was being worked up to, yet he kept his attentions on me in a non-sexual way. The combination of his arms around me, the smell of my own arousal, and the ever-increasing, unsatisfied desire coming from between my legs was unlike anything else I've ever experienced.

Eventually we both succumbed to our animal lust. He pulled me against him backwards, where I could feel his hard-on pressing into my back, then reached around front and put his hand over my mound. With our legs we kept up the dance as he gently pinched my clit through both pair of panties. After only a verse of the song playing I knew I was about to cum, but for half the refrain it kept building and building. Just as it was about to hit, Tom crooned in my ear, "I want to remember you like this." My back arched and I let out a loud moan as I unleashed an incredibly powerful orgasm. Tom must have had trouble holding me up through it, I bucked so much. When it was over, my panties felt like they had a puddle inside them, I was so wet, and then I realized I was sticky somewhere else too. Even as he was holding me through my orgasm, Tom had one of his own right onto my lower back.

He cleaned off his jism with a towel and helped me lay back on the futon. After a moment to catch his breath, he went to fetch our wine glasses from downstairs, which he refilled and brought upstairs along with some crackers and smoked salmon.

I took a sip of the wine. "Which one of us is on top right now?"

"You are still my mistress, if that's what you mean," he replied. "I was working within the bounds you gave me, and if you didn't like anything I did, all you had to do was say the word."

"I thought so, and I liked what you did. But I could take the balls out and the panties off anytime I want?"

"Yes."

"You know, those ben was could really drive me nuts if I had to leave them in very long."

A mischievous grin came over his face. "One day you may get to find out."

"You mean when I sub to you for a week?"

"Probably then."

I took a sip of wine and a bite of salmon. "Do I seem to be more a dominant or a submissive to you?"

The fox gave me a thoughtful look. "I see you as being about halfway between the two, able to enjoy either role and not especially favoring one or the other. Chama is more of a dominant, and I will always be pleased to have either of you as my mistress, but I shall also look forward to having you as my pet now and then."

I grinned back at him, realizing he was right. I could enjoy being his slave as much as I'd enjoy having him as mine. "I suppose there's no point in asking what you'd do to me for a week."

The fox glanced away and thought. "Oh, I'll eat your pussy more than you can stand, but other than that, you'll have to play to find out." He paused a moment. "Besides, I don't know yet what all I'll do. I have some things in mind, but sometimes I don't decide to do something until right before I do it."

Tom had me stand up, then worked his hand down the front of both pair of panties to retrieve the ben wa balls. Removing them released a flood that had been trapped inside with them, adding more of my slick juices to the already thoroughly soaked panties, and the latex panties kept it all inside. I had a feeling he knew this would happen when he offered them to me to put on. As we walked back to the bedroom it was impossible not to notice the amount of wetness and slickness between my legs, but the sensation wasn't especially unpleasant and since he hadn't said anything about removing the latex panties I assumed he wanted me to keep them on. The pair beneath them was his souvenir, after all.

We were getting sleepy, but before we drifted off I allowed him to bring me off one more time.

Sunday

When I woke up during the night needing to pee, it surprised me how wet and sticky I still was in the crotch. The latex panties had done a good job of containing all the wetness, allowing only minimal evaporation. Presuming this was how Tom wanted it, I was careful to retain as much of it as possible without getting any urine mixed in with it.

To wake me up, Tom began teasing my nipples with his tongue, understandable since my pussy was inaccessible. He soon had my blood flowing, among other body fluids. "Good morning, Tom."

"Good morning, Mistress Kirin."

"Are you ready for your panties?"

"Anytime you're ready to give them to me."

When I was awake enough, I stood up, and he eased off the latex panties. Then I slipped the mint green panties, as soaked as any pair I'd ever worn in my life, seductively over my hips, picking up as much of the moisture from my pussy as I could wherever the fabric was capable of absorbing any more. After I stepped out of them, I held them in front of him, the wettest part of the crotch only an inch from his nose. "Here's your souvenir, foxie."

"Thank you, Mistress." He took them to his dresser and sealed them in a plastic bag before returning to me. "May I finish cleaning you up, and give you a proper awakening?"

I smiled at him. "I'd love it if you would." I lay back down on the bed and spread my legs enticingly for him. "Just promise you'll fuck me good and hard when you're finished."

"Absolutely, my Mistress."

He did. As I gave him the best fuck I could, I discovered that the ointment from the night before last had left my cunt muscle a little bit stronger. I think he noticed it too.

* * *

Sometime over an hour later, we came downstairs for breakfast wearing satisfied smiles. "I think Travis and I just had our finale," I said to Chama.

The ocelot grinned broadly and her nose twitched. "Unless you plan to drive home reeking of sex I suggest a bath or shower."

"Yes, I'm sure I will. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet."

After breakfast, Tom and I followed her suggestion. "I want to thank you for being Chama's friend," he said as we were drying off. "When she took me as her slave, I promised her I'd do anything to make her happy. Ever since you guys started talking a few weeks ago there has been more of a spring in her step, and during your visit she's been the happiest I think I've seen her."

"I care about her too, Tom. I should thank you for being such a good slave to her. Or master, or whatever."

When we finished, we packed my suitcase and loaded it and the rest of my stuff into my car. I would have been happy to do it myself, but Tom, attentive to the end, insisted on doing most of the work.

The loading completed, he knelt before me and looked devotedly into my eyes. I ran my hand over his head and thought back over my visit and how much a part of it he had been. I wasn't sure how to address him anymore. He was Travis, the insatiable and sometimes feisty but ever submissive and obedient pleasure slave. He was Tom, the intelligent, good hearted but strong willed attorney. The yin and the yang, two sides of him that played off each another to make the whole.

Some words finally came to me. "Before I met you I never wanted a pleasure slave. The idea of making someone else do pleasure slave things for me never really appealed to me. It was unthinkable that I could ever tie someone up, tease them for hours, spank them, make them go naked around the house, or tell them to eat my pussy or fuck me, just because it's their job. Yet here you are, and the way you present yourself to me, look at me, speak to me and attend to me, it's like I can't help myself. You make these things irresistible. You've seduced me into wanting to do things to you that I never thought I could do to another."

His eyes looked back at me brightly. "You flatter me, Mistress. True, at first I was using a little seduction, but after a point I prefer to think I was just being a catalyst to help you discover your own desires and lose your inhibitions, enabling you to play them out. And I suspect you still wouldn't want to do any of those things with a pleasure slave who, as you put it, is just doing their job."

"You're right, I probably wouldn't."

"But don't be too quick to dismiss other pleasure slaves, should an opportunity arise. Some of them really do enjoy what they do."

"True," said Chama, who had just walked in on us. "Once I got used to being one, I had a lot of fun with it. But you're right, Kirin. There are those who are just putting in their time."

"Well, this one certainly isn't," I said, patting Tom on the head. "Chama, I would like to compliment you on training your slave well. Everything he's done, he did better than expected. He made my visit more enjoyable than I could have imagined."

"Thank you," Chama replied. "He is a very good student. I think I learned as much from him as he did from me."

"I don't know how good I was as a mistress this week, but I think he and you both were good teachers for me."

"You did very well for a newcomer and you learned fast," said Tom.

"Chama, have you considered taking up training pleasure slaves for a job once you're free?," I posed.

"I would support you in that endeavor," Tom added.

"An interesting thought," the ocelot replied. "I'm only a little over halfway to earning my emancipation, so I've got a few years to think about it."

I took them out to lunch and got one last look at Port Shelton before I had to depart. Chama and I had a tearful hug as we said goodbye. Tom said again how much he looked forward to my next visit. As I drove away, I reflected on their lifestyle. I might get tired of it if I lived like that all the time, but I would enjoy sharing in it for a few days now and then, and I was thankful for the friends I had, old and new.

* * *

Back in Cragmoor, when I opened my suitcase to unpack, I discovered an envelope. I opened it and found one of Tom's business cards and a letter written on his personal stationery:

Dear Mistress Kirin

Welcome to my private heaven. It is a place few know about and fewer are invited, and I am pleased that you have accepted my invitation. When you are here, do not worry about making it better for me. Think only of making it better for yourself, and in so doing you will make it better for both of us. My greatest wish for you is that you will someday find your own private heaven, where you can live out your greatest dreams, and when you do, I shall be honored to share in it if you wish to invite me. You will always be welcome to share in mine.

Obediently yours,

Tom Graydon, aka Travis

Call if you ever need anything.

I put the letter away among my most prized heirlooms, resolving to reread it when it came time to plan my next visit.

* * The End * *