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Chapter 1, Collar Me Surprised!

Do you ever think about something so much that it becomes a trap? And despite obvious warning signs, you do it anyway? Instead of doing his homework, Brandon was sitting at his desk browsing Grindr, his dick in his paw, stroking it slowly while looking through profiles. He never messaged anyone, not for lack of trying. It just made him too anxious. Of course, It didn't stop him from thinking about all those guys and jerking off three to five times a day. He was lucky his dorm roommate was often away in class or doing extracurricular activities, leaving him to masterbate as often as he wanted to.

While he had yet to message anyone due to anxiety, he told himself if he were to ever find the perfect profile, that he wouldn't hesitate to message them.

When it came to porn, which attributed to two or three of his jack off sessions each day, Brandon was a bunny with a darker taste when it came to being dominated. When masterbating he had a consistent fantasy of being humiliated, having a dom shout verbal abuse at him, inflict pain, force him to do things he probably didn't want to do. Also a foot fetish usually came into play, but that wasn't the concerning part. For the last few months, it was really the only sexual fantasy he had thought about, and the scenarios just seemed to get wilder and more obscene.

And what was going to eventually get him into trouble, was the profile he kept coming back to on Grindr. An older wolf, about ten years older than Brandon, who's name read "Warren Wolf" on his profile. His photo on the profile was of a handsome wolf with gray fur, shirtless in leather pants, sitting in a chair in a dimly lit room. His profile simply said, "Looking for a new toy that I can play with. I've worn all my old ones out."

The naivety of a nineteen year old, combined with the sexual energy of currently edging oneself had lead Brandon to finally upload a picture of himself. He had uploaded it twenty minutes ago, waiting for it to be approved so he could finally message what could be the dom of his dreams.

Brandon's profile name was just "Brandon", and the main body of the profile was left blank. His photo that he uploaded was just a picture taken in the bathroom mirror. He was shirtless, showing off his rusty brown fur, his floppy bunny ears swept behind him with a small nervous smile on his face, and his tummy (which had a little chub on it) sucked in.

While he waited he just looked at the profile, imaging that wolf's big thick paws on his body, gripping his neck, his arms, his butt. Holding him down while he thrusted home, plowing and breeding Brandon's ass. He took a moment to step away from his fantasizing and checked his own profile. Brandon could see that the picture had finally been approved, and his heart thudded and shook in his chest, his dick growing soft as anxiety flooded his ears. With numbing fingers, Brandon switched to Warren's profile, tapped the conversation button, and froze. What was he to say?

"Hello Daddy" very briefly flitted through his brain, but it wasn't right. He typed out "Slut looking to get his holes filled" before deleting it. "Hey handsome, what are you up to?" was the next thing he typed. But, again, deleted. None of it felt right. It didn't matter what he wrote, at least that's what Brandon told himself. He ended up simply saying, "Hi!" With a few emoticons that he quickly deleted before sending the initial hi."

He attempted to stroke his dick back to full hardness, but the anxiety had set in, and all his brain could do was wait for a response. He exited Grindr, and attempted to look through some social media for a few minutes, checking back only to not see a response. Thirty minutes passed with Brandon checking back and forth between social media and Grindr before Brandon grimly tucked his limp dripping dick back into his underwear, anxiety forcing his erection away. After forty-five minutes, he was begging to give up hope and had successfully staved off looking at his phone for fifteen minutes, waiting for the phone to notify him when he had a message. Then a tiny orange light lit up on his phone's notification light and it vibrated.

His paws shook as he picked up the phone, pressing the button on it to light up the screen. His finger froze above the button for Grindr, but he finally tapped it, and then immediately, like ripping off a band-aid, tapped the conversations section. There was a dick pic from a 65 year old something or other waiting for him.

"Well fuck." Brandon muttered.

Just before turning the screen off, his phone buzzed again. It was Warren.

"That's a rather informal greeting for me boy. I'll give you a second chance to rectify that."

Brandon took a moment to take a deep breath, before typing out with numb fingers "Good evening sir."

"Better."

"Are you experienced boy?"

Brandon thought about lying, but solemnly typed "no" quickly adding "but i'm willing to learn".

"Good."

"Would you like to come over for a play date?"

The bunny had been hoping for a little more conversation and getting to know each other, but the throbbing erection that had come back full force (and now cramped in his pants) made him type out "of course sir, i would love to".

It was a few minutes before Warren responded, but the entire time Brandon stared at his phone, waiting with hushed anticipation for the dom's words.

"I'll send you my address and the time you are to arrive. If you're on time, you'll find the door unlocked. You are to come inside, kneel, and wait for me to be ready for you. Do you find this acceptable Brandon?"

That was a lot for Brandon to process. He wasn't so sure. Setting the phone down, he stroked himself through his pants, imagining those hands on him again. Before he knew it, his cock was out and he was ferociously stroking himself again. Minutes passed without him even realizing it, and his phone buzzed again. Brandon grabbed his phone so quickly he accidentally smeared pre cum all over the screen in his attempt to read the message. Even through the pre he could read it.

"I understand if you need to think it over Brandon, and I don't want to pressure you into a decision. But this offer will expire rather soon if you don't take it."

He licked the pre off the screen, not as a sexual thing, but just because that was how he cleaned his phone screen. Though he did find himself enjoying the act. He responded with "yes sir, i find it acceptable."

The next message was an address and time. Was he really doing this? Brandon wondered. There wasn't a lot of time before he had to be there.

He threw the dirty pjs he was wearing off, and rushed into the bathroom to start a shower. He estimated he really only had twenty minutes to get himself ready, and that didn't feel like enough at all. Brandon barely waited for the water to start before he dived into the shower, soaping up his fur, making sure he had every conceivable crack covered. Before he was even done cleaning himself, he was reaching out from behind the shower curtain to grab a metal hose off the counter. He was planning on being split by this wolf, and had to be prepared. Hooking the hose to the shower nozzle, he screwed on the rubber phallic tip. Douching was important after all.

Grabbing a small bottle of lube, he coated the douching nozzle in a thin layer. Brandon then steeled himself, balancing his foot on the edge of the tub and lowering himself so his cheeks were spread, he placed the tip of the nozzle at the entrance to his tail hole. As he slid it gently into himself, he let out a low moan, his cock stiffening and twitching. He continued to moan and push until he felt the metal just past the rubber nozzle, and began to adjust it back, and then push it into himself again, then pull back again. Before he realized it, he was moaning loudly as he fucked himself with the nozzle. He just really enjoyed stimulation. After about five minutes of moans and shivers, he bit his lip and cursed under his breath before leaving the nozzle in place and turning the water on.

Once he was finished douching, Brandon toweled off and picked out his underwear. Something sexy this wolf would want to tear off. Would a jockstrap be too obvious? Maybe string bikini briefs? No, it had to be something simple, and Brandon thought he had just the thing. A pair of black briefs that hugged his round ass cheeks and displayed his package. The waistband of which could be seen from the low riding denim shorts he put on. He slipped on a black tank top and his sneakers before rushing out the door. He had taken far too long in the shower and was running late.

Between his dorm room and his car, all Brandon could hear was his heart beating in his chest, and in the car he had to fight the urge to turn around and go home. He had wanted this for so long, he couldn't just go home, could he? He had to see it through. Each time he thought of the wolf in the profile picture, his dick throbbed, just barely contained behind denim. With one hand on the wheel, Brandon stroked his package, fully aware that he couldn't go home even if he wanted to. Not at this point. His libido wouldn't let him.

The house he pulled up to looked identical to all the houses around it. It was very suburban. There was a spotless silver sedan in the driveway, and the lawn was perfectly immaculate. Brandon wondered if he was being watched as he got out of his car. He was suddenly irrationally afraid that he looked like a slut, or that if the neighbors saw him they'd think he's some sort of paid for whore. That caused his cheeks to burn and pants to tent worse than they already had. He hurried towards the front door, careful to stay on the cement path and avoid the grass, hoping no one would see his erection, that while contained, was certainly not hidden.

He stopped at the front door. Should he knock? Ring the doorbell? The instructions said to walk right on in, but he wasn't sure. He'd never done this before. His need to get out of sight from the neighbors overwhelmed his thought processes, and grabbing the door handle, he found it indeed unlocked. Brandon was a few minutes late, but clearly not late enough.

The threshold was dimly lit, and just inside the door was a welcome mat in the shape of a dog bone. Quickly closing the door behind him, Brandon knelt on the white tiled floor just past the mat. It was cold and hard. His hand absentmindedly rubbed the bulge that was his crotch as he looked around. The place was strangely undecorated. Gray walls, white tiled floor. There was a living room to his left with a black couch facing an entertainment system, with a houseplant in the corner. To his right was an all white kitchen. It was so clean, the house hardly looked lived in.

A creak down the hallway in front of him sent Brandon's blood cold. The sound of some movement followed, but then there was nothing. Who was this man? Was he about to get murdered? He didn't know. He just knew he was supposed to kneel, and wait for instruction. The ticking of a clock somewhere was all the noise in the house. Was Warren getting ready? Was Warren even going to come out?

Maybe Brandon had been forgotten. The thought ran through his head, but he quickly shook it out.

Just as his knees were getting sore from the tile floor, he heard the creak again, sounding like a desk chair maybe. A lone figure appeared, standing in the hallway, shirtless, wearing the pants from the picture. He was a little more tired looking from the profile, but the sternness in those eyes made Brandon's soul melt out of him, leaving him an empty vessel to be filled.

"Brandon?" His voice was deep, but younger sounding than Brandon had thought it would be. He approached Brandon, and very quickly the bunny realized just how tall the man was. While he was kneeling, Brandon's head just barely came up to crotch level.

"Hello sir." Brandon managed to squeak out.

"Shh," The wolf hushed him, brushing fingers against Brandon's lips before pushing three fingers into his mouth and gently holding down his tongue with rough paw pads. "First lesson. Speak only when asked a direct question. Your words are unimportant to me." His fingers moved about Brandon's mouth, while his other hand gently stroked Brandon's ear sending a shiver down his spine. "When in this house you are either an object, a thing, an it; a toy for me to play with, or you are a pussy for me to breed. On the occasion that you are serving as neither, you're simply my pet." He gripped Brandon's ear firming, pulling his fingers out of Brandon's mouth and wiping them dry on his face fur. He made eye contact as he spoke. "I am Warren, Master Warren to you. If all of this sounds acceptable, nod your head and we will begin."

He could feel the power and size in Master Warren's grip on his ear, a grip that sent shivers down his spine. The entire situation now seemed more daunting than it had a moment ago. There was only one course of action for Brandon, only one thing that he could do in this situation.

He nodded.