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Bondage and Discipline 3) Owned

Master demands I write of my training to please him, so he can test me and force my submission. I've been his sex toy for a few days, licking and sucking and obeying. But I'm part of his household property now, and he's at work, and his wife Mistress wants to try me.

I didn't name any of the freefurs in this story except Mistress Monica; that's because they never told me and I've only heard one guard's name. It never mattered which guard it was; I had to obey and pleasure every one of them. But Anton Wolf started fooling around with the merchandise, even licked their chained bodies! He didn't act like an all-powerful commanding guard, and he disappeared suddenly one day.

That's another cautionary note in this story -- don't be Anton.

Mistress wants me to please her. Of course I'll obey. I started by kneeling three meters from her feet so she could see my naked body. And I do mean very naked; I'd never worn real clothes in my entire training. And a punishment at Mistress Monica's Palace of Pain and Pleasure was to be shaved, all the fur on a slave's entire body! So Master had done it to me, just because he had the right as my owner.

He liked seeing my naked skin, helpless now in slave chains. Mistress looked me over curiously; sure she'd seen naked slaves before, and used them harshly. But they still had the fur covering, while it would be months before mine grew back. Mistress was a high school teacher in anatomy class, and she'd wanted a slave to model. Master had bought me to indulge his own appetites, and he did frequently. I was sore from his enthusiasm that morning, and it hurt to walk.

Mistress was satisfied, and tossed me a rough cloth tunic. It was ... clothing! She ordered me to put it on, cover my chest and hips. My arms, shoulders, back, and legs were exposed, but my bushy tail went down my butt and curved under to hide my assets. I'd been showing them to everyfur for the year of my training, and to Master and Mistress, so I was confused about what the tunic was for. I didn't dare ask; she'd tell me if she wanted me to know.

Then she told me to hobble myself, a quarter-meter chain clipped to my ankle cuffs, then to cross my wrists behind my back, above my tail, and let her clip them together. I obeyed without thinking, pleasing her with my submission. I no longer needed to be locked in chains. Then she clipped a chain leash to my slave collar and tossed a blanket over me.

Mistress led her slave down to the spare aircar and unlocked it. She didn't order me in, so I bent around her to open the driver door. She liked my skill with chained paws, left the door open, and marched me around back to put me in the boot. It never crossed my mind to resist. Then I was closed in darkness.

The aircar started, lifted, and tossed me around awhile. When the boot opened, Mistress ordered me out; she never thought once about helping a struggling slave with his paws chained behind his back. I squirmed around, folding myself to heave my rear up and get my legs out as a pair, put them on solid ground, and slide my torso and head out.

Several freefurs gathered to watch my exercise. Everyfur knew I was a slave because I'd broken the law, so my difficulty was part of the punishment. None of them would bother to help. I could scent that Mistress was annoyed it took me so long, but she just gripped the leash and led me inside, to her classroom. I passed under the chime for class start and it sounded loud; if I'd still had fur I'd have jumped out of it.

*

High school anatomy class meant the mixed-species-and-gender class were sub-adults. The males acted bored but teased the blanket standing beside their teacher. I was still covered, like a trophy to be unveiled at a show. That's exactly what I was. Mistress announced her model and exposed me.

I mean, she took off the blanket; I still had the tunic and chains. I was quite used to being naked in public and displayed, so this was no embarrassment. But several freefurs seemed troubled; they knew very well that males and females were built differently, and they'd all read books. But this was reality, and it'd soon be showing.

They all seemed a bit uncomfortable as Mistress pointed out my body parts. Now I knew why I'd been shaved; they'd all seen fur before, but only a few had injuries that needed fur-shaving to get to. For a furr, who'd been covered since birth, seeing skin was a bit, well, more than risque. And soon they'd be seeing all of me.

They all acted a bit timid, even when Mistress told them to come up and, well, feel me to test their anatomic knowledge. When a female Lynx came up and lifted the tunic to get a peek, her hand shook a little, so I said quietly, "Does this slave body please you, Mistress?"

She actually yelped, dropped the tunic, and jumped back, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I fell to my knees and begged her forgiveness. It just seemed the right thing for a slave to do. Her hand had felt good on me. Mistress clucked indulgently and reminded the class that slaves were forced to allow freefurs to see and touch them, the Lynx wasn't in any trouble.

In fact, Mistress said she should command me; surely she'd seen movies with slaves and seen how to treat them? The usual ones sub-adults would see don't show our slave training but do show some of the result; it's OK to show affectionate furrs hugging and cud- dling, supporting and helping society. But actual sex as well as violence and pain and screaming isn't shown until they're several years older.

I've been adult over a year now, and I've suffered for my failures. I've learned pain and submission very clearly; all the adult things I mentioned are an everyday occurrence for us slaves. I've learned to enjoy a strong Mistress commanding my submission, giving in to her will. Sex is just an additional way to obey.

The Lynx saw me on my knees, chained and practically naked since the tunic was short. It did block her view, and she ordered me to stand. The class continued, touching my body and feeling the fox muscles grown strong from hard use. I like being felt, and Mistress warned me about responding. I swallowed in fear, and ducked my snout.

I spoke submissively to respond to her. "With respect, Mistress, it's part of my anatomy." Mistress laughed very loud, and said the class might be old enough to learn. After all, the Lynx lady had wanted to look at me. Mistress invited her to try again.

Mistress Lynx answered my question to her; yes, she had liked what she saw. I asked her to say the word and she seemed uncomfortable again. She said quietly, "Thigh." Mistress asked her mildly if that was all and Mistress Lynx got embarrassed. She had trouble saying "Upper thigh."

*

Mistress Lynx's hand felt good on my upper thigh, and I'd been trained to respond as the slave I am; no slave is allowed to hide it by choice. I'm a fox, a kind of dog, and my tail was still curved under me; now the bushy thing was twitching and getting me hot. Slaves are forced to display themselves to freefurs, so Mistress was being a bit cruel denying me response.

My owner's wife brought me here to show my body, though, and she relented. She warned the class they'd see my assets, and anyfur could say if they weren't OK with it. The males wanted to tease me for my size, and the females were conflicted with reluctance and interest. They all saw my head, shoulders, and legs with hobbled hindpaws; and I was told to turn and let them see my bare back and arms with wrists clipped together.

Then Mistress had a strong male in the class come hold my upper arms to intimidate me; it was just for show since I'd long since lost the will to resist freefurs. She unclipped my wrists, brought my paws around front, and bound them again. I was nakedly shown to everyfur when she pulled the tunic up from the back and piled the cloth in my paws!

My tail slipped down my legs, hanging quietly. When the gasps subsided, Mistress picked up a paddle and used it on my bare butt, making the cheeks bounce and turn pink for their entertainment. I had learned to enjoy Spank the Fox from Mistress Monica, the Tiglon, when it wasn't a punishment. Then Mistress roughly spun me around to expose my shaven balls and sheath!

I thought for a second I'd gone deaf, because everyfur stood frozen; I saw open mouths but heard nothing. Then they all started breathing again and I was glad Mistress and the male student held me, because I felt weak with fear when the whole class surrounded me. I was being roughly poked and felt again, all over my naked chained body, so much I responded helplessly.

Yes, I was teased about my size. But I was scared of all the strange freefurs; and their roughness reminded me of the 'intake' guards who'd terrified me into submission over a year ago. I was told to bounce my balls in my own paws, and frankly that felt good and calmed me down. A good pawful, I've still got the self-respect to say. I'm allowed to be proud of my training to obey and please freefurs.

And I caressed my sexy fox sheath with one paw while bouncing my balls with the other, making them all laugh with delight. Imagine making a 150-centimeter tall fox play with himself in public! Ha, ha, ha! The obvious result was my cock sprang up like it was on a spring and my knot got swollen. And I got all hot and missed Mistress's order to stop!

Her slap was so hard it knocked me down. I knew better than to get up, that wouldn't be submissive. I'd been slapped around while chained, enough to know to fall back on my knees; and I knew enough slave discipline to put my hindpaws pads up on the cold floor, spread my legs wide and hold my body straight. I put my head up, my snout level, my eyes down. I put my chained forepaws pads up and rested my forearms on my upper thighs, the ones Mistress Lynx had seen and touched.

I had displeased my owner's wife, and heard her uncoil a whip. I knew it was time for another beating, knew not to fight a freefur. I bent forward and put my chained forepaws out on the floor, left crossed over right, and bent my back as my chest went to the floor. I was her slave, opening himself to her whip, submissive. Mistress used her whip on her trembling, frightened property.

Most of the sub-adult freefurs hadn't seen a slave actually whipped; some had snuck a peek, and many had heard groans and muffled screams. But as I said, movies don't show actual violence until furrs are adult. Mistress was cheating a bit, shocking the classfurs with my fur-shaved nudity and bare assets; now they saw the violence of a brief beating.

Oh, it was real, and it hurt! My screams and begging for mercy were quite genuine, not at all an act. Mistress gave me five blows and pulled me roughly to my knees. Everyfur saw my tears of pain, and heard her say she beat me for disobeying her. I was obeying their orders to fondle myself, but I let myself enjoy it. I begged again for mercy and thanked her for her firm correction.

*

The anatomy class continued. My nudity showed the whipmarks clearly. The common whip doesn't usually break the skin since a slave's blood is just a mess to clean up; and Mistress had pulled the choke band down to let the five blades spread out. It was like a strong furr's hand on my back, four fingers and a thumb, five rows of red flesh to show the class.

The middle blade struck to the right of my spine and flowed to the left, hurting me but not breaking the bones. That punishment, to cripple or kill a slave, was reserved for extreme disobedience. I'd seen furrs shaven and crippled at Mistress Monica's, when a tigress slave tried to fight and even used her claws! Other slaves had tried to take advantage when all the guards fought. The guards won, of course, and used the single whip on her.

The single-blade whip isn't a kindness, it puts all the force in the same one leather with a metal claw. It's designed to rip flesh, inflicting maximum pain and damage on a furr. The guards took turns with the tigress, each one raping her then beating her. It went on and on for hours, ripping her open from chained elbows to thighs, so much pain she couldn't scream anymore. When she finally died it was a mercy, ending her suffering.

I had already been tamed, and wasn't involved. But otherfurs had tried to fight the guards, and were forced to watch. None of them ever fought freefurs again, and it was months before any offered even token resistance to the most disgusting acts they were forced to perform.

Back in the high-school anatomy class, I was in pain from the beating. It wasn't nearly as much as my first beating at Mistress Wolverine's paws, or my training beatings from her or the guards. Mistress Monica had never sullied her paws beating me herself.

I was still on my knees, open to the classfurs, the red whip lines showing clearly on my fur-shaved naked back. I'd knelt to the whip without needing to be ordered, and Mistress showed mercy to her slave. She even asked a rather shy ladyfur, Mistress Ferret, to come up and use the discarded tunic to dry my tears. She did.

But the male Badger who'd held me before came back too, and gripped my shoulders to warn me to stay still. Badgers dig for food, so they're strong, and I didn't want Master Badger slapping my painful back and shoulders as well as holding me there.

Actually, Master Barry Badger was bisexual, and it wasn't my shoulders he was interested in holding. He liked Mistress Ferret too, and that's not socially wrong even for sub-adults. Remember I said it's OK to show affection.

Francine Ferret was shy, but she trusted Barry; and he was old enough to handle the Mouse slaves his family owned for their bakery. He'd felt the females' breasts and held the males down, and squeezed their butts to dominate them. Adult Mice are just over a meter tall, and as slaves they stayed on their knees. It was easy for the young Badger to hold them down and make them submit to his desires.

I was 150 centimeters tall but Master Barry still scared me. With my owner's wife watching, I had to let him feel my skin. I'd been trained to take whatever pleasure was offered, from anyfur, and I wanted his gentle but firm touch. He avoided my whipmarks, and despite my pain I started to respond again. I'm just a slave beast.