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Over the time I’ve spent with Devon, I’ve learned a simple, even if somewhat unfair lesson – he always has the upper hand when it comes to teasing, no matter how hard I try to pretend that he doesn’t. Of course, there isn’t much you can do to fight back when your opponent can simply deactivate your brain with a long stare.

I usually wonder if he ever gets bored of it, of winning every single discussion. I mean, it must be good for his ego, and even if sometimes he cuts me some slack, he likes being the one in control too much in order for him to do otherwise. Lately, I’ve also come to think that he’s probably like this only when I’m around. I bet he acts more normal when he’s in the company of other, more respectable people that he doesn’t feel like puppeteering.

The thought that he enjoys controlling me makes me blush, but then again, I’m already used to that. It’s not like I’d find being controlled by a big hyena unpleasant.

Perhaps it’s my fault for making it easy for him, I find myself thinking sometimes. Perhaps I should offer some resistance. I mean, just for fun? I obviously like what he does to me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.

However, other attempts at trying to tease him have never ended up too well for me – meaning I end up losing, which is a win in my book, I suppose.

“So is it true that you can’t read or is that just a line you use to flirt with impressionable librarians?” I asked once with a smirk, reminiscing about our first encounter.

Devon had certainly answered. Slightly bewildered that I’d decided to bring up the topic at first, I think, but flashing a wide grin at me as soon as he noticed I was trying to tease him. He already knew he was going to win that round, of course.

I don’t remember his answer, anyway. I do remember what happened afterwards when I opened my eyes and found myself conditioned again. The memory of it still makes my cheeks blush… and something stir down there. I won’t be letting him know how much I liked it, obviously. It’s not like he doesn’t know, and I don’t want to inflate his ego even more.

“Huh. Is this yours?”

But it’s even worse when he’s the one initiating the teasing. I don’t know why I’ve invited him to come over. I moved to the kitchen for one minute just to wash the dishes and I came back to find him leaning on my bedroom’s doorframe, holding something in his paw that I don’t recognize instantly. Was he searching my drawers or what?

I get ready to play the outraged part, but I realize what he’s holding then and all the indignation I might be feeling gets washed away by utter, powerful embarrassment.

“Well, where did you find it?” I ask, trying to hide how much his move has affected move. I know it won’t work beforehand, but it’s worth a try.

“Inside a cupboard. Under a suitcase you had lying around. The suitcase was empty, though. All that storage space, wasted.” He shakes his head as if he is disappointed on me.

As he does, the black and grey leather pup mask he’s holding dangles left and right.

“Don’t you think that must mean it’s mine?” I ask. I believe I can still pretend to be at least a bit outraged. Maybe.

“You seem very certain for someone who keeps forgetting stuff in the most inconvenient situations,” Devon counterattacks. “How can you tell this is yours and not something I planted in your apartment, just to make you feel embarrassed whenever I’d want?”

Fuck, is the only thing I think. He’s going hard this time.

“I do remember buying it,” I argue.

“That doesn’t sound very reliable. Making you remember stuff is as easy as making you forget it.”

I hold his gaze, which is something I can only do at certain times. I’m not entirely sure where this is going, but I don’t think he’s going to put me in a trance just yet.

He likes playing with me first.

“So you’re asking me if I think it’s mine or not?”

“Mmhm.”

“If I can’t tell, then why are you asking me?”

Devon scratches the back of his head with a large paw. I know he wasn’t expecting me to still be un-flustered – or to hide it so well.

“Huh. Okay, you win. I suppose you’re right. I’m just trying to tease.”

“Good. I knew that.”

“I promise I didn’t make you think you’d bought it,” Devon insists. There’s a look of genuine curiosity in his face now. “I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with him. “You’ve never seen one of these before?”

“Sometimes, but never in real life.” There’s always a chance that I’m wrong, but I believe he’s being honest right now. “And I certainly wasn’t expecting you to have one.”

I cross my arms on my chest.

“Well, you’ve known me for a while,” I say. “You should know by now that I’m interested in kink – and hypnosis isn’t the only thing I like, even if that’s the one you found out the soonest.”

His confused expression turns into a big smile again. There he is. He’s going to tease again, isn’t he?

“Oh, believe me, I know a certain cat likes being tied and toyed with and pleasured and certainly mind controlled.” He speaks with a widening grin as I wonder if he’s going to make a full list or what. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be into pup play specifically.”

“Why not?”

His expression grows slightly uncertain again.

“Um, I mean… Look at you. You’re a lynx. A cat.”

“So what?”

“I thought the idea of acting like a dog wouldn’t be that appealing to you. But now that I’m hearing it out loud, I suppose it doesn’t make as much sense as it made in my head. Huh…”

I can’t help but chuckle at this. Sometimes his intense, over-dominant persona when he’s focused on teasing me makes me forget that he’s actually just a big goofball inside.

“I suppose there are a lot of hot ideas associated with the general notion of being a dog for someone,” I answer. “In my case, that mostly ties with submission.”

“Reaaaally.” Devon grins again. Gosh, he’s switching moods so fast that I can barely keep up with him. He makes it kinda hard to know whether we’re having a regular conversation or he’s about to drag me into my room to do… all kinds of irregular things. “I see. It really makes you think, doesn’t it?”

Is he going to use that for a pun?

“Or not think, in your place,” he adds.

Yup. The fact that there still are a few things that I can see coming is good. Means I’m not as lost as I thought when he’s in this mood, but not necessarily that I don’t get equally flustered.

“I wonder if one of these would look good on me,” he ponders then, as he holds the mask in front of his face and analyzes it carefully.

“Probably.” I refrain myself from saying practically anything would look good on him. He’s a pretty attractive guy after all. “It’d be a bit redundant, though.”

His gaze moves back to me. I can tell the moment in which he leaps on me is getting closer now. That grin isn’t leaving his face as often now.

“Really? Why?”

“Well, your head already has the intended, general shape of a dog,” I say.

He chuckles softly.

“Hyenas are not dogs. They’re more closely related to cats, remember? Or have you forgotten that from our first encounter?”

“I know, I know. That’s not what I’m saying. I was simply pointing out that?”

But I forget what I was supposed to be pointing out when those eyes start glowing. My sentence trails off, somewhere out of my mouth, out of my mind. I stand there, empty-headed, in the middle of the corridor. My body feels weirdly light and I can tell my eyes are glassy all over, even if I can’t look at myself.

It’s not hard to know. Everything’s gotten sort of blurry.

“Hey, kitten?”

“Y… yeeess…?” I hear myself answering. Everything feels sort of far away.

My eyes momentarily leave Devon’s gaze to focus on his hand. He’s reaching out for me – no, he’s offering something. The pup hood.

“Put this on, okay?”

I nod.

My arms move in slow motion towards the hood. As soon as I feel the smooth, cold material in my fingers, a subtle shiver goes down my spine – one that must have gone unnoticed to Devon, or else he’d be teasing me now. Even my hazy, sort of disconnected mind can tell that much.

The hood adjusts around my head easily, just like all those other times I’ve put it on. I feel the gentle pressure of it against my temples, the scent of leather filling my nostrils, the sounds being so nicely damped. There’s no way Devon knows how much this affects me, but I know he’s going to find out soon. I lower my arms and let them dangle at my sides. They’re better that way.

“That’s a good boy,” he praises me. This time, the shudder that goes down my spine is much more noticeable and his grin widens. “Heh, I always forget how much you like the praise. I suppose I should have known you were into this much, much earlier.”

His words reach my ears slightly muffled, but he has the kind of deep voice that is easy to hear even inside the hood. My eyes wander up to his, again. I think they’re still glowing.

I don’t know. I’m sort of floating.

“Let’s get you to bed, hmm?

I nod. As he moves from the doorframe, I walk into my own room as if he was the one inviting me. The tall hyena watches me as I move to my bed and hesitate in front of it. He hasn’t given me any specific instructions as to how I should lie on it, and my diminished mental processes find it hard to make decisions on their own. Fortunately, he seems to realize I’m struggling.

“On your knees.”

I do just that. A distant part of my mind loosely produces a thought about how kneeling on a bed is much better than kneeling on the floor, much more comfortable, much warmer. I don’t hear it for long. Devon climbs onto the bed and gets closer to me, a sort of wild expression on his face.

“Now. Time to have some fun.”

He looks straight into my eyes. I can tell he’s really making something now, as the glow in his eyes becomes more intense, the grip pulling my mind into nothingness more intense, the void filling everything harder to ignore. One of his hands moves to my chin, preventing my head from lowering down.

But everything’s lowering down. My mouth hangs open. My eyelids are heavy. My body is melting. My mind is sinking. My self is fading. His gaze is overwhelming and I?

?wake up, sort of. I don’t know for how long I’ve been staring into his eyes. He’s moved from his position and is now placed behind me. I can feel one of his large hands resting on my shoulder.

“Finally awake?” he asks with a bit of a mocking tone.

My mind is split in two halves – one is making sense of the situation with the few tools it has at its disposal right now and the other is thinking about how much this turns me on.

“Hey, did you see that? You’re naked.”

I slowly look down and notice he’s right. My clothes were removed at some point. The pup hood is the only thing I’m wearing at the moment. And my arousal is more than clearly visible. I have no recollection of taking anything off, obviously.

“I wonder if something else has happened while you were so out of it,” Devon teases.

I can feel his fangs caressing my neck, his hot breath on my skin. As his other hand moves to my belly, I feel pointy claws scratching my fur, drawing small, smooth circles.

As he does that, I feel as if the whole world is swirling away. My head tilts to one side, a moan escaping my throat, my cock twitching. I don’t know what he’s done or how it works exactly, but as he rubs my belly I feel my arousal building up. At the same time, my mind slips away more and more, getting brushed away with every soft stroke. My tongue lolls out and my vision blurs. I’m not sure but I think my eyes are rolling up a bit.

“Sounds like someone is enjoying himself a bit too much.” Devon’s deep voice anchors me to reality, but not enough that I feel what you’d call aware of what’s going on. “Maybe I’ll stop rubbing your belly for now, hmm? I don’t want you to make a mess already. Let’s try to make you last a bit longer.”

But… but I want to…, is the thought that echoes in my head.

Sometimes it looks like he can read my mind, but this isn’t one of them. Plus, he’s right at that – I’m already too hard from this and wet with pre. I don’t think I can hold it in for much longer if he keeps going like that. Which is fun, because he is simply rubbing my belly.

“Let’s do something else instead,” the hyena offers. He is using that promising tone of his again. I can tell he’s done something. There must be some programming involved, I think. He’s…

I don’t have to wait for long to find out what it is that he is done. As soon as his hand falls between my ears and starts petting the pup hood, my mouth opens and I speak.

“I am a dumb, drooling dog.”

Devon chuckles.

“You’re what now?”

He pets me again. The words spill out of my mouth like there’s no other option.

“I am a dumb, drooling dog.”

“Huh. That’s weird. I thought you were the cat and I was the one who looked like a dog, hmm?”

That’s not what I…, I start thinking, but he pets me again.

“I am… hmf… dumb, drooling dog…”

I try to fight the impulse to give in and say the words, but it feels too good to just do as I’m supposed to. I know Devon knows that.

I know he’s going to take full advantage of it.

“If I rub your belly, you get all squirmy and horny. But if I pet your head, you start saying weird stuff,” he teases. His fangs go back to caressing my neck and I shiver again. “What am I going to do with you? What a mess of a toy you are.”

I know the trigger that makes me say stuff isn’t supposed to turn me on – at least not intentionally – but it’s doing just that.

“Oh well,” he ends up saying. His left hand moves to my belly again, the right one gently pressing against my head. I can easily feel it through the pup hood. “I guess there’s no point in being too cautious then if everything I do is going to turn you on. I’ll just do it all at the same time and see how long it takes you to break.”

The way he says those words makes me extremely horny, but I don’t have much time to think about it.

His hand rubs my belly. I squirm and shudder, my cock throbbing once again as I’m plunged into an ocean of pleasure. But his other hand pets my head. Before I can start moaning, the words are already leaving my mouth.

“I am… hmmmffff… a dumb, drooling… dog…”

“Yes, you are. Again.”

“I am a dumb… hmm-hmmff! D-dumb drooling… dog…”

I feel like each of my arms are tied to a rope and he’s pulling from them at the same time. But somehow, it’s not like the pull from those ropes goes in opposite directions – it all points to the same place. Each trigger reaffirms the other, making it more intense. It’s not long before I’m drooling my brains out of my mouth, helplessly repeating the phrase.

It’s not long before I’m humping the air as well, trying to get some physical, explicit satisfaction somehow.

I am a dumb, drooling dog.

“Careful there, doggy. I think you’re getting too needy for your own good. I bet you’d love to feel my hands down there, wouldn’t you? That’d make you feel sooo good…”

It’s hard to focus on his words as I keep repeating the mantra over and over and my mind fades away with every stroke on my belly. I can’t stop humping now. I am a dumb, drooling dog. The more he touches me, the more I repeat, the more gone I am, the hornier I get. Drool is dripping down my chin now, my desperate erection begging for a helping hand. I am trapped in a helpless loop and I am a dumb, drooling dog.

“You know, I might do just that,” he growls softly. So soft that the sound almost doesn’t make it through the pup hood – or through my own repetitions. “I might help you reach climax in a few moments.”

Yes, please. I am a dumb, drooling dog.

“Get on all fours, doggy.”

It takes me a few seconds to stop humping, since it’s become a bit of a reflex by now. I try to go back to reality, but it’s been pushed far too far away from me. I simply move to the requested position, lying on all fours.

Devon soon positions himself over me. I feel his larger frame wrapping me completely, his own erection grinding against my rear, one of his arms wrapping around my neck as the other goes around my waist. As expected, one of his hands lands on my head while the other rests on my belly and rubs again.

I am a dumb, drooling dog.

“It feels so much better when we’re like this,” he says.

It’s not a question or an opinion, but a fact. I can tell that he is incredibly horny as well. Not just because of the husky, more dominant tone of his voice now, but because of the growing pressure I feel between my cheeks. I am a dumb, drooling dog.

“It’s like you were born to be on all fours. Like this is how you’re supposed to be, always.”

Yes. Yes. I…

Suddenly, the hand petting me stops. The hand rubbing my belly stops as well. Immediately, the pleasure that’s been driving me crazy recedes. That doesn’t stop me from humping, though. I hadn’t noticed I’d started humping again, but I’m far too deep into it to stop now.

I feel a whimper climbing up my throat, unsure why Devon has stopped.

“But first, there’s something that’s been bugging me.”

A single claw teasingly draws a curvy line along my stomach. That doesn’t qualify as rubbing, so my body doesn’t get all lost in pleasure, but the anticipation is enough to make me squirm. I need him to touch me so bad.

“You insist that you’re a dog, but you keep using words. What kind of dog uses words, huh?”

I don’t know. He’s right.

“Dogs don’t do that. Dogs bark. I bet even a dumb, drooling dog like you knows that, right?”

I am a dumb, drooling dog. Yes, I know that. I give him a tentative bark, just to prove that I understand what he means.

“Aaaah, I knew you’d get there.” The hand on my belly resumes its rubbing. My mind melts in overwhelming pleasure. “Slow, but steady. You’re pretty dumb after all.”

I’m a dumb, drool?

“Bark again.”

It happens. Less tentative this time.

“Don’t be shy, doggy. Bark.”

Again, louder. My body tenses with the sound. He keeps rubbing my belly.

“That’s better, but we can keep working on that. Again, three times.”

Three consecutive barks. Something’s happening. I don’t know.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if someone had triggered your mind to grow emptier every time you bark?” he whispers in my ear. I don’t understand what that means. What is trigger. “I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Bark.”

I do. What. Drooling. His hand on my belly feels good. I want to cum.

“Dogs don’t speak. Dogs don’t think. You don’t need any of that right now. After all, you’re just a…”

… dumb, drooling dog. Bark.

“Theeeere you go. And now I can finally help you with that bone between your legs, don’t you think?”

Bark. Yes. Bone. His hand grabs me. Bark. I don’t know. Bed soft. Everything wet. I want to cum. Bark.

“Make sure you don’t cum until there’s nothing but silence in that head of yours, hmm?”

Don’t understand. Bark. Horny. Want to cum. Bark. Bark.

Bark. Bark. Bark. Bark.

Bark.

* * *

Devon’s arms tensed around Robin’s smaller body as the hand stroking the lynx’s throbbing member grew faster in its movement. Continuous barks filled the silence, each coming out of the hooded lynx every few seconds. By now, Devon was practically sure that little head of his was completely empty.

It was the hyena’s job to make sure something else emptied as well.

His grip on the lynx’s length was slightly difficult to maintain because of how wet everything was. The poor doggy was making a really big mess – bigger than Devon had ever seen, and he’d forced the lynx to make a considerable amount of messes by now.

It wasn’t like Devon wasn’t making a mess either. He’d started humping the lynx’s rear out of nowhere and now, even though the hyena was still on his briefs, he could feel his own big erection burying in that trembling body of his, fabric getting wet with his own pre cum. Oh, he wanted to wreck him. He wanted to completely ruin the little kitten slash doggy barking mindlessly in his arms. Not like that was too far from happening, anyway. By now, there was probably nothing left of the Robin he knew.

But Devon liked it when Robin was a horny mess like that, when he was completely lost in bliss.

He could tell the moment in which pleasure would spill all over was getting closer. The lynx’s body was convulsing now, the line between barks and moans becoming increasingly thinner as if he wasn’t in control of the sounds he was making anymore. He hadn’t been, for a while, but that was beside the point.

The hand rubbing the lynx’s belly grew more erratic, claws scratching that soft stomach of his a bit aggressively now. Devon’s movement became rougher, his humping pushing Robin to the bed whenever he did. He let out a primal growl and sank his fangs on that exposed shoulder. The bite made him feel a rush of adrenaline and arousal.

“Come on, doggy,” he blurted out. “Be a good boy and cum already.”

His hand moved faster up and down. The lynx let out a few indistinct sounds and then his body tensed. Devon held it in his arms as the poor, broken doggy unloaded all that pleasure – warm, sticky seed dripping from the tip of his hard, desperate cock onto the hyena’s larger hand wrapped around it.

It was a lot of cum.

“F… fuck…” Devon heard himself saying as the scene pushed him over his own edge. He tried to stop it for a second, but then his awakened animalistic side came out on top. He grinded his large bulge against his prey’s motionless body, arms tensing even tighter around it, as if hoping to snap it in half.

When the hyena reached orgasm, a sound that was somehow between a moan and a growl climbed up his throat and filled the silent room.

Nobody was barking anymore.

Devon grunted as he felt the last drops of cum leaving his cock and then let go of the lynx. The smaller feline’s limp body collapsed on a puddle of his own seed and drool. The experience must have been too much to handle for him and now he was out of it in more than one way.

The hyena rolled and rested on his back, his chest rising and sinking as he breathed heavily. He knew Robin would wake up, eventually. Disoriented and not completely sure of what had happened, but knowing he had enjoyed it beyond his understanding. Devon always made sure he did. His service top vein would usually get the best of him.

As he waited and the mists of the afterglow faded, he covered Robin with the sheets. He didn’t want the lynx to catch a cold, not now. And it wasn’t like their bed could get any dirtier anyway.

Man, he thought, considering the state of his cum-stained briefs, this is going to be one hell of a laundry.

But it wasn’t like it mattered. It had been totally worth their while, at least for the big hyena. And even though Robin couldn’t give his opinion at the moment, Devon knew he was very likely to agree.

His attention moved to the pup hood around the lynx’s face and he stroke it with a big claw, lost in thought.

Perhaps he should get one, after all.