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Part one

(Which describes the 'first contact' between a cheetah and a rabbit.)

Ayyal kept his eyes peeled over the savanna. Only his dotted cheetah face protruded out of a bundle of dead, crispy bushes, ears straightened up in focus. The drought continued to hit hard, and the long grass had pretty much all dried out, leaving very few places to hide and ambush from. The sun shone and cooked the earth under his paws, as well as the back of his neck, and yet the feline hunter remained stalwart, and tightened his hold onto his spear, watchful. He'd discovered leopard tracks intruding into their territory, so he guarded the plains while Seec protected their oasis.

Ayyal had indeed partnered up with an unlikely ally; Seec wasn't another cheetah, or a feline, or even a mammal. Seec was a large, lethal crocodile that other local predators usually knew better than to mess with. They had met under... special circumstances. In this time of desperation, however, anything was possible. Leopards, who were traditionally solo hunters, could've banded together to fight off or even kill Ayyal and Seec, who controlled together a very desirable strip of land.

So Ayyal shook his head, took a swig of warm water from one of his skins, and renewed his effort to ignore the heat. He stared and listened.

But there was this weird sensation.

It was slightly sickening. The cheetah couldn't describe it. The skin under his fur crawled, and his hairs stood on end. He felt at the same time energized, and oddly uncomfortable. It increased too. After another minute, it became a faint buzz. Ayyal examined his surroundings, trying to locate the otherworldly sound, but failed. It seemed to emanate from himself.

After carefully checking that no one was around, Ayyal got up in a crouch, and sprinted to a large isolated tree. He shoved his back against the trunk, and the fresh shadow did him good. He didn't hear the buzz anymore, and was profoundly reassured that it'd just been the extreme heat playing tricks on his mind. This good feeling turned out short-lived, as about five seconds later, the sound caught up with him. It grew louder, and the sickness in Ayyal's stomach increased proportionally. Worse, it was now accompanied by a disturbing effect on the world, unless it was his sight that was affected? Either way, trees, plants, even spots of the soil became more absent. They weren't fully there anymore, or at least, the cheetah couldn't focus on them. They weren't replaced by anything either; it was as if the blind spots in his vision had become massive and moved around, threatening to engulf everything. Ayyal became very worried that he might faint, which wouldn't be any sort of advantage with potential enemies in the area, so he ran again.

This time, he couldn't distance the awfully loud buzz. It truly followed him, and with increasing accuracy! Something flowed through his body as he ran toward the oasis, sending dreadful shivers along his spine. The cheetah was terrified. Whatever was going on wasn't normal, and he'd feel way safer with Seec there with him. Was he poisoned? Was he sick? Was he losing his mind?

The sound surrounded him, deafening, at this point. Ayyal realized he couldn't see where he was headed, and he tripped on a rock. He fell through a blank crack in the world.

The first thing he noticed was the never-previously-heard clanging of his spear on a polymer floor. He didn't understand that noise. On his hand and knees, the hunter sensed the alien seamless texture of the ground. The buzzing sound had changed in a critical way as well. It now came from all around Ayyal instead of from inside him, and the sound rapidly quieted down, becoming lower and duller. The harsh sun didn't dominate him anymore. In fact, fresh shade surrounded him, and it took a while for his adaptable eyes to get used to the lessened luminosity. He panted and looked up. After only two or three seconds, the sickness and disorientation lifted, but his confusion only increased. Without even realizing it, he tried to speak.

-- W-what.

The cheetah examined the shadowy shapes that gradually became clearer. Had he lost consciousness? Where was he? He was surrounded! Surrounded by strangely clothed people he didn't know, and surrounded by flashy things and beeping shapes he didn't recognize. He felt directly threatened, and moved backward, grabbing his spear, but he immediately hit something hard; it was an odd elevated disk that emitted luminous colors, like bolts of lightning in the night sky, but those were contained under an inexplicably transparent material. As Ayyal struggled to figure out just what the hell was happening to him, and where he was, five people holding large things began screaming at him aggressively. In a way that made no sense at all, he understood their language, but didn't quite comprehend the logic of what they wanted. They demanded that he drop his spear, lie face down, and place his hands behind him. As if he would do that! It'd make him completely vulnerable! Besides, their large, weirdly shaped metal spears -- unless they were clubs? -- weren't long or sharp enough to constitute decent weapons. If they attacked him, he would be able to take quite a few of them down, and the others might be too intimidated to charge him. He threatened them, as he carefully got up from his sitting position, until one of them got the courage to actually approach him. To Ayyal's absolute amazement, it was a rabbit.

A black rabbit.

Why in the world would a rabbit risk approaching a cheetah hunter? In fact, Ayyal noted that the group before him contained a mixture of predators and prey that all seemed to be part of the same tribe. Even more incredible, the black furred animal was unarmed, and seemed totally fearless. He stood between the warriors on both sides and stretched his arms wide in a gesture of welcome, perhaps? Unless this meant something different to these unknown people. He did seem rather stern.

-- Don't shoot! Look at him. He obviously doesn't know what guns are. Let me try something.

Ayyal was beyond impressed by the grit and imperious presence of the bunny, who appeared to be the leader. His words silenced the shouting, large warriors of his tribe, many of whom were carnivores. The rabbit seemed tall for his kind, but it was certainly nothing impressive even to Ayyal, and cheetahs weren't a particularly big species by any means. The rabbit chief turned to Ayyal, and prudently stepped forward with non-threatening gestures. The hunter lowered his spear, but still kept it between himself and the potential enemy.

"My name is Wicker. Can you understand me?"

Wicker spoke calmly, and the feline appreciated that.

-- Yeah. Don't come any closer. Where are we?

Another voice surged from among the group of unarmed tribe members.

-- How can they understand us?

Yet another one, dressed in a pure white garb, answered the query.

-- It seems to be an effect of the Link. We don't understand how, but many neighboring worlds share striking similarities with ours. Language is one of those.

Their input seemed to annoy their leader.

-- Please shut up. I'm trying to deal with a situation, here. We can play Q&A later.

Again, though Ayyal didn't quite grasp everything that was said, they appeared to bow to the will of the bunny.

"I know you're probably confused," he resumed, "but you must know that your spear won't help you here. Our weapons are far superior and can kill from a distance. I'll answer your questions and help you understand what happened, but first you must surrender."

-- Hah! mocked the hunter. If your weapons are so great, why don't you use them?

-- Because we prefer to keep you alive.

Now, that concept, Ayyal was familiar with.

-- You want to enslave me?

Wicker instantly brightened up, snapping his fingers and pointing to the cheetah.

-- Yes! Exactly! You will be enslaved! Except that you are already captured, you just don't realize it yet. It won't do you any good to resist now, so put your weapon down.

Naturally, Ayyal laughed off the obvious posturing.

-- I'm Ayyal! I'm a proud cheetah hunter! I think I can tell whether I'm captured or not. I don't believe in your magic weapons.

The rabbit diplomatically shook his head.

-- Alright, Ayyal. You don't believe me, but think about it. Even if I'm lying, you don't know where you are, and you're heavily outnumbered. I would prefer to do this without violence, but surely you recognize that if we all attacked you at once, we'd win.

Ayyal liked the boldness of this 'Wicker', and it made him want to display his honor. The cheetah hunter fought to survive every day, and, though he preferred to live by far, he wasn't terribly afraid of death -- he'd seen it from up close before. He nobly challenged his enemies, shoving his spear forward. Come what may! He wouldn't bow to them so easily.

The bunny's eyes widened and he bounced back, to Ayyal's great satisfaction. The cheetah laughed.

-- You don't look so confident, now! You may overcome me with numbers, but I won't be defeated without a hefty cost to your own! Whoever approaches me first will fall, and perhaps many others too.

This time, the enemy chief exhibited some aggravation.

-- Dude, please. You can't take us all. You couldn't even take me alone! I'm a handler for Temple Corporation, trained in the W Wing. I'm an expert in Universal Unarmed Combat. If you shove that spear into my face again, you'll wake up naked, chained and collared in a small cage. You are warned!

Wicker sounded serious, and Ayyal was pleased that this clearly worthy tribe leader was willing to fight him fairly in a duel. It seemed utterly insane to him for a rabbit to accept facing a spear-bearing cheetah unarmed, but Ayyal would accept and honor his brave decision, regardless of how foolish it was. He charged.

Ayyal woke up. It took quite a few minutes to fully emerge. He had a terrible headache. When he attempted to move, he noted that he couldn't. His wrists were chained together to his ankles, with his knees spread open to the sides. He opened his eyes, and saw bars all around him. He knelt hogtied in a small cage, which forced him to bend over forward. He also wore a rather bulky collar around his neck that wasn't comfortable or uncomfortable, but it was impossible to ignore.

Oh. And, he'd been fully stripped of every last item or article of clothing.

Ayyal breathed, and made a painful effort of remembrance. He vaguely recalled some images about an unimaginably swift black bunny who'd sidestepped his attack, pulled his spear to use his momentum, and sent him flying with a low sweeping kick, only to bring him back down hard with an unforgiving palm strike. All of it in a single flowing motion. The hunter's head had hit the floor. A few words had entered his consciousness before he fainted: Wicker's voice advising his tribe to bring nets and tranquilizer guns, next time, rather than military rifles. Whatever that meant.

One thing was certain: the rabbit had wiped the floor with Ayyal. He'd never seen or even imagined anything as impressive as the precise, lethally elegant and confident way the bunny leader had moved and attacked. Ayyal had never been so fully dominated in combat... Not even by Seec when they practiced under the sun, and Seec was a massively muscular crocodilian machine of destruction! It was simply inconceivable. Ayyal couldn't get the sight of this glorious bunny warrior out of his head.

Neither could he ignore the fact that he'd been beaten and caught.

While he was unconscious, the tribe had taken away his weapons, had humiliatingly unclothed his body, and had even taken the teeth necklace that Seec had crafted for him. Those were their things, now, and so was he. His mood sunk as he faced the undeniable fact that he had been captured. And easily at that! He could barely believe it. He'd gravely underestimated Wicker, and now he would belong as a slave for this tribe. What would they have him do? How would they treat him? He had no idea. He felt sorry for Seec as well, who would undoubtedly worry and look for him. The croc was a dedicated soul, and he might even find his way wherever they were. Ayyal wished he did, and also wished he didn't, for he was afraid that even the mighty Seec could fall to a mysterious tribe with such superior combat abilities.

Ayyal did his best to examine his surroundings, though he couldn't turn around much. He seemed to find himself in the center of an empty room, kept strangely luminous despite the absence of any openings in the walls to let sunlight in. Glowy whitish thingies stuck to the ceiling appeared to be the sources of this light. Neons were new to Ayyal.

Shortly after his awakening, a heavy door opened and closed, and the rabbit master of all warfare returned.

-- Welcome to Temple!

The feline hunter felt instantly intimidated and humbled. He didn't want to bend on his knees, naked and conquered before this obviously powerful and respectable tribe leader. He wanted to impress him, and show that he was a proud warrior -- a strong and honorable predator -- he wanted to stand on his own and bow his head in recognition of this bunny's prowess, but all he could do was to wiggle in his chains, remaining spread open and completely exposed at the chief's paws, which were covered in black thick laced footwear. Leather boots were new to Ayyal as well.

In a tortured effort to compensate this extreme loss of face, Ayyal growled threateningly in a display of his fighting spirit, but the rabbit master wasn't pleased with that at all.

"Nope."

He shoved his hand into one of his pockets, and Ayyal's neck muscles began to uncontrollably constrict with painful force, while a loud, burning sensation traversed his neck and even spread around his shoulders and worsened his headache. The hurt stopped only after multiple seconds of Ayyal squealing pitifully on his knees, and he was left gasping.

The bunny casually circled the cage, observing the proud hunter's exposed intimacy from every angle.

"What you're wearing around your neck is called a 'shock collar'. It's designed to allow practical and comfortable discipline of slaves like you. Handlers -- people like me -- can control them from a distance, and inflict punishment whenever they like."

Ayyal still panted but he avoided struggling against his binds too overtly. He didn't know what kind of powerful magic that was, but the pain it caused wasn't to be doubted. This tribe truly wielded immense and obscure powers! There could be no fighting against this...

"Let me lay down the ground rules," Wicker said. "Frankly, there's only one that matters for real, so I won't even go over the others. You can figure them out on your own time. So, the first rule, the most important rule, is that you must not ever, in any way, shape or fashion, demonstrate any hostility to me, Wicker. Let that sink as deep as it needs to in your tiny predator brain. I give the orders, and you comply unquestioningly. You don't bite, you don't growl, bare your fangs, talk back or make faces. You keep your tail, ears and eyes low, as well as your hands. If I even see your claws or if you move in a way I don't like, or if you do anything that I decide to interpret as belligerent or disrespectful, those all count as transgressions against the first rule."

Wicker stopped and crouched near the front of the cage, bowing his head sideways until he was at eye level with Ayyal, and his lengthy black ears tickled the floor. The feline felt himself being absorbed by those devious hazel irises.

"If you ever do those things at someone else..."

The rabbit shrugged with an indifferent smirk.

"... Eh. You get disciplined, you know. It's bad behavior, I'll train it out of you, but I don't really care personally. If you do it to me, however..."

Wicker marked a pause to ensure he'd be taken seriously.

"... I shall be very cross with you. Are we clear?"

What was indeed very clear to the cheetah, was that this tribe didn't consider him to be a defeated honorable opponent, but a weak captured slave to be broken for degrading work and obedience. The worst part was that he couldn't very much blame them. Everything about Wicker and his tribe seemed to reinforce the obvious fact of their superiority. In Ayyal's view of the world as a struggle for survival, there was very little mercy to be found, and it seemed fairly predictable to him that a conquering tribe would bind him into forced servitude if they didn't kill him.

Ayyal lowered his snout in wretched acquiescence, and this pleased the black rabbit who smiled much more kindly.

-- I understand, said the feline. May I ask how I was captured?

-- It's complicated. Even I don't grasp the details of how it works. For your ease of comprehension, let's just say that you were caught in a sort of special net, and that net brought you very far away. And call me 'sir'. Here, that is what you call your handler.

Ayyal pondered that information in his cage. If he was truly far away, could Seec still find him?

-- Are we beyond the great forest?

-- Further than that.

Suddenly, Ayyal got truly disturbed.

-- Are we still on the Island?

Wicker sighed.

-- Much, much further than that. Further in a way you can't imagine.

How could that be? How far exactly were they?

-- What if I ran and swam at full speed from the place where I was captured to here, night and day, without rest, how many days would that take?

-- You would never make it in your entire life. You wouldn't even begin to get close.

Ayyal shivered. If that was true, and he didn't have any reason to doubt the honor of the chief, then Seec would never make it there. And Ayyal wouldn't be able to return home either. Somehow, deep within himself, he found he'd always suspected the world didn't stop beyond the sea, but to find that it was this big? His head spun. He felt very strange.

The cage door suddenly slid open. Wicker had unlocked it.

"It'll be alright. I can see your shock, but I will ensure that you adapt to this new situation. I'll train you and teach you everything you need to know to be a good, pleasant slave. Come out."

Now, that was straight up insulting. Ayyal understood his situation; he was caught. But to suggest that he desired it? No way. Who the hell wanted to be a slave? He grumbled.

-- What if I don't want to be a good, pleasant slave?

But Wicker's grin only widened.

-- Oh, I'll train that into you as well. Look at yourself, cat-

-- Cheetah.

-- Whatever. Look at that firm, slender body, designed for speed and deadly precision, waiting on its knees, stripped and humbled. Think of how much fun you'll be when you take orders and bow and grovel. Or dance chained to a pole in the middle of a club? Clients will pay a fortune to see those spots curve and bend in most appealing fashion, or hear this proud hunter meow in submission. Now, come out of that cage.

Ayyal was startled, and swayed in his shackles.

-- What, are those the kind of things you want from me?

-- Of course! You'll learn your place and comply with all demands. I'll train you to enjoy it.

-- I won't.

Wicker shrugged.

-- They all say that at first, and yet they all end up throwing themselves at my paws showing their bellies, and saying please and thank you. They mean it, and so will you.

-- I doubt it.

For the first time, the bunny appeared impressed. He rose and stood tall in his elegant shirt, waistcoat and black pants, though his outfit mostly appeared alien to Ayyal. The handler grabbed his own chin and rubbed it with his fuzzy fingers. His ears had completely perked up.

-- You 'doubt it'? I usually get a more outraged response, like 'never' or 'screw you'. How revealing that you would choose such measured words.

Ayyal thought about Seec, and how he loved letting the towering reptile rule over him, some nights. He also thought about their first encounter, and what a surprise it'd been.

-- I can't say with absolute certainty. I've learned that I shouldn't assume too much about myself. But you said you would reduce me to slavery and take away my honor. I don't believe anything you can say or do to me can somehow make this a positive change.

Wicker let his profound enthusiasm show.

-- What a wise and fascinating predator! Taming you will be a much more delightful experience than anything I could've reasonably expected. What fun we'll have together! For the record, I think your assessment is correct; your enslavement and training undoubtedly won't mark an improvement in your life. Why would it? Nevertheless, this doesn't have anything to do with the eagerness to please, beg and submit that you'll soon feel. You're not examining the situation from the right angle. There's no need to discuss this immediately, though. I'll simply show you. Now, for the last time, come out of the cage calmly and gently or you'll be shocked again.

Ayyal did his best to hide how satisfied he felt that he'd managed to earn some of Wicker's respect. To think that a mere rabbit lead this unimaginably powerful tribe! And he was such an amazing warrior too. There was something about him that drew Ayyal's attention like a magnet, and when he sternly ordered the hunter out, the latter complied.

With his wrists and ankles shackled together, Ayyal couldn't do more than crawl pitifully and helplessly on his knees before Wicker, which really made him miserable after all of his efforts to appear noble to the black-furred bunny. He abandoned any hope of maintaining dignity when Wicker slipped his fingers under his slave collar and pulled him the rest of the way out of the cage, only to press on his neck until he tumbled forward with his naked bum up.

"We'll start your very first training session right now, with an exercise. For your comfort, I'd like to detach your wrists from your ankles so that you can lie down normally. Will you try anything stupid while I do that?"

-- No, sir.

-- Good boy. What did you say your name was, again?

-- Ayyal.

-- Ah, yes.

While Wicker sat over his back, and worked on detaching and reattaching the shackles, Ayyal decided to ask the question that burned his lips.

-- How did you beat me, sir?

The rabbit appeared focused on his task, messing with the chains and cuffs and throwing away those that he wouldn't need anymore.

-- Hmmm?

-- After I was caught by your net thing. I attacked you with my spear, but you beat me and I blacked out.

-- Yes, laughed Wicker. You came at me hard with a stabbing weapon. That's hardly a challenge to defend against with UUC.

Ayyal was silent for a moment while his legs were finally unbound and he unfolded them gently to lay flat on his belly. He appreciated that his captor was willing to talk with him.

-- What's 'UUC'?

Before he responded, Wicker moved to a more comfortable position on the cheetah and finished re-shackling his wrists in his back.

-- Universal Unarmed Combat. You know martial arts?

Ayyal shook his head.

"Martial arts are systems of combined moves, techniques and general theoretical and practical approaches to various forms of combat. It's basically what happens when a lot of people get together to develop, teach and improve combat techniques over a period of time, often multiple hundreds of years, or even more. Many cultures and traditions develop their own."

-- Some tribes share secret combat techniques with their members, where I come from.

-- It's something like that, yes. So, you see, when handlers like me are trained to manage slaves like you, it's expected that we'll need to be able to deal with a bit of resistance from time to time, so Temple Corporation, for which I work, invented UUC. They went all around the world and learned everybody's best secrets about fighting unarmed, and compiled and compared them in order to create the most complete and efficient combat system. A good chunk of a handler's training is dedicated to learning it flawlessly.

Ayyal was astounded, and tried to turn his head to look backward to Wicker.

-- Are you saying you're not the chief of your tribe?

The bunny laughed out loud, and slapped Ayyal's firm but vulnerable butt. The cheetah trashed about, but couldn't do anything about the well-balanced handler immobilizing him.

-- No, I'm certainly not. My tribe is called the Unified Islands, but we call it a nation, and it's like a tribe that is so huge and populous that it's impossible for all its members to know each other. As for Temple, that's a corporation, and that's slightly different but also similar to a tribe. Look, it's complicated, and you don't need to learn it all right now, so let's keep this simple. For now, if you just obey me unquestioningly, it'll be enough to keep you out of trouble. If you don't, I'll shock you until you do. Alright?

No response. Wicker got up and gave the feline a quick shock. Ayyal trembled as the current surprised him.

-- Aahh!

-- Say 'Yes, sir!' slave.

What a painful, horrible weapon they had. Regretfully, Ayyal hurried up and complied.

-- Yes, sir!

-- Good boy. Bring your knees up under you and spread them. We'll do that training exercise I mentioned. After that, I'll ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer them honestly, got it?

Ayyal experienced a bit more resistance, there, as he tried to push himself into spreading his cheeks open before Wicker, but he knew there wasn't any other option.

-- I got it, he mumbled.

Yet another quick shock followed, and again caught Ayyal completely off-guard. He grabbed and pulled violently on the collar, but couldn't tear it off. The electric discharge ceased.

"Gaah! Damn! Stop that!"

Wicker got his hand out of his pocket.

-- Speak clearly.

-- Yes, I got it, sir! Fuck.

-- Remember your place and show me respect, and I won't have to discipline you again.

-- Okay, okay.

The hunter brought his knees under himself, and compliantly opened them, spreading his cheeks. There was no doubt in his mind, in that moment, that he had truly been reduced to simple property, and he pondered gloomily about what his life would be like. This wasn't like with Seec at all. Ayyal knew he was safe with his croc partner. Part of him still wished he was there. Another part of him admonished the other for wishing Seec had been caught along with him.

Wicker quietly approached, took Ayyal's collar once more, and pulled him up. The handler crouched and then knelt behind the cheetah, passing his arms around the fit chest and stomach and tightly pressing the naked spotted back against his finely crafted clothes. Ayyal found himself kneeling utterly open, with his cock and balls utterly exposed, and his nude body wrapped warmly by Wicker.

"Shift your weight off your knees and against me."

Ayyal was pretty sure that the bunny would tip over backward if he did that, so he hesitated.

"Go ahead, do as I say."

Ayyal shrugged and leaned back. Wicker turned out better balanced than he expected, for he didn't fall, and held the cheetah. As reluctant as Ayyal was to admit it, it was sort of comfortable within the bunny's embrace.

"You should know how adorable you are. Now, I'll hold you. Attempt to stay as calm as possible."

Ayyal tensed up and fought a reflex to close his legs when his cock and balls were grabbed and immediately toyed with. What the hell was Wicker doing? In the end, though, Ayyal preferred to avoid being shocked again, and he knew he was beaten and at Wicker's mercy, so he kept his shapely legs wide open. Shame burned as he did nothing but stare as the skillful soft fingers rubbed and squeezed his male bits, and gave a forceful massage to that spot between his balls and his ass that very quickly provoked the beginning of an erection. He wasn't exactly in the mood, that is the least that could be said, but still, Wicker was patient and insistent, and the more he was played with and stimulated, the faster he hardened. He cursed his stupid male body that was just so damn easy to manipulate as he finished growing into a full-on boner.

Wicker didn't stop there, far from it. With his other hand, which he used to hold Ayyal's chest, he began gently extending and retracting his fingers in the hunter's white-gold belly fur. The feline couldn't believe the surrealism of what was going on. How could a little-bunny-rabbit treat him like this, controlling him and handling his _stuff_while his dick protruded up like a freaking flagpole floating the color of total surrender.

"You're doing excellent. This is what I expect from a sweet, tamed slave. Continue to keep calm and relaxed. You're under my control. Accept it nice and easy, kitty cat."

Wicker's hand working Ayyal's nether region pushed his balls up one more time and then slipped over them to squeeze his shaft, and quickly pinched the hyper-sensitive tiny barbs covering the inflated head of his sex. Surprised by the fast escalation, Ayyal squeaked meekly and much more cutely than he would've preferred. He stared helplessly, mortified at his own overly excited rigid cock. Without his realization, his jaw dropped a little, and as he gaped, Wicker seized the opportunity to push the boldness up to eleven.

The rabbit shoved his left hand into the open maw of the cheetah.

It gave Ayyal a supreme start, and he wallowed in paralyzing confusion while Wicker confidently stretched his index and thumb apart to poke and test the sharpness of the feline's fangs. His tone turned viciously playful, and never did he relent toying with the hunter's hard limb.

"My, my. Those scary bad boys. I can practically sense what it would be like if they dug into my arm. Can you, predator? Can you picture what it'd be like to tear my fluffy hide apart? What are your instincts telling you, right now?"

In this moment, each and every single one of Ayyal's instincts were telling him that Wicker was crazy. He wasn't tempted to bite in the least. In fact, he felt more dominated than ever, and gazed around the room frantically, hoping that something would happen, someone would come in, to tell the rabbit he was insane and get him to take his hand out of Ayyal's mouth.

"Bite down, cheetah."

Ayyal was too confused to think or act, but Wicker's other hand tightened around his package, and the jolt of pain and pleasure did get his jaw to close a bit. The handler yelled:

"Bite down harder!"

Wicker squeezed harshly the tip of Ayyal's agonizing erection, and the sudden potent burn combined with the stern, authoritative order caused Ayyal to shut his eyes and reflexively obey. He gave a muffled moan while his fangs sank shallowly into the rabbit's open hand.

It took a few seconds for the cheetah to catch on with what he'd done. He had his teeth into Wicker's hand! His eyes widened, and he feared being in trouble, but Wicker didn't move, so neither did he. The handler returned to being gentler with his caresses, rather than aggressive, as he pushed Ayyal's overstimulated cock closer to the edge. The feline felt Wicker's small black nose nudging his upper back. The bunny didn't appear distressed. In fact, he was perfectly serene.

"I feel it. The destructive force in you. The lethal purpose built into your being. I find it magnificent in its purity. Me, I'm small and weak. I was born this way. Yet, here, your danger, your beautiful, sexy threat, it's all mine to direct. What could justify this? I mean, really. From this close, you could twist around and bite my throat. I couldn't punish you or stop you if you did it fast. But you won't."

Wicker rubbed and nuzzled his captive feline, and Ayyal couldn't figure out what was the appropriate reaction, so he waited, with nothing else to do but to notice how much the rabbit did indeed seem to have him well under his paw. And he felt aroused. Terribly aroused.

"An individual is mostly defined by their relations to everyone else, in the end. Even you, proud tribal hunter. You understand the latent supremacy of hierarchies, networks, all power structures. Those instincts are stronger than any others. Stronger than the one that might drive you to bite. Thus, you can only bite if I tell you to. You know hurting me would never play to your advantage here. You grasp it effortlessly, even if you're from another world. Fascinating. It seems some laws are truly universal."

At last, Wicker released Ayyal's fangs, and delicately began to pull his hand out. The feline opened his jaws to let it go, and when he shut his mouth again, he could taste a tiny hint of rabbit blood. Wicker shrugged, nonchalantly shaking his wounded hand.

"Honestly, I don't handle dominance well. I wasn't built for it. Maybe that's why it's so intoxicating to me. Maybe I'm just wired that way. Who knows. But I enjoy it. And it is important to find sources of satisfaction and happiness in one's work, especially in our day and age!"

Wicker moved his snout above Ayyal's nape, and breathed deeply the scent of the predator's bound, nude body. Ayyal was finally inclined forward on his knees until his face and shoulders touched the floor. The bunny kept stroking his back as he kept him down, bum up, and diminished the groping of Ayyal's maleness to a teasing tickle under his shaft and orbs. The cheetah was torn between wanting more and less, and shame struck him in the guts as his unwanted urges increased.

In silence, Wicker made sure Ayyal fully experienced this mix of thorough humiliation and helpless arousal, made possible by his state of passive surrender. This moment stretched, minute after minute, toward what seemed to be eternity to Ayyal as his gorged penis was torturously harassed and poked while it hung heavily under his spread legs. It would've been much less agonizing if it'd merely been unpleasant, but Ayyal knew a small part of him might miss this, and those wild feelings were exactly what Wicker was expertly trying to harness.

"Breaking you, you handsome devil, will be as sweet as carrot cake. I can't wait until you crawl politely at my paws, timidly begging for attention. No need to rush, though. Let's take our time."

Ayyal tried to get this damning vision of himself out of his head -- and out of his cock -- but it couldn't be helped. The dominating bunny's hold was soft and warm, and Ayyal wished he'd shut up and leave his dick alone, so he wouldn't have to deal with how much this 'training' was goading him into this exquisite submissive state he'd discovered with Seec. It wasn't the time for any of this! Wicker wasn't Seec! The bunny wasn't on his side, or respectful of his will. If he gave in, he would truly be lowered into something... pathetic. The hunter wished that wasn't also slightly appealing in its own scary way.

A sudden impulse of defiance brought Ayyal to push himself off and try to get back up despite his bound hands in his back, but the black rabbit elegantly crushed the rebellion by gripping the cheetah's nape and applying his weight with a swift motion.

"None of this. You stay in your place and obey your orders. Do that again, and you'll get disciplined. I assure you there's nothing to gain for you by attempting to resist."

Minutes went by and Ayyal was forced to eventually accept that this was happening. As a slave, he couldn't do anything but to wait it out as patiently as he could, while he was edged increasingly mercilessly. As he did begin to calm down, Wicker went back to offering praise.

"Yes. Nice slave. Isn't this better? That's some quick progress. Now, I'll release you, and you'll stay as you are. If you behave, I'll let you put on some clothes. If not, you'll go on fully naked in front of everyone for the rest of the day. Pick whichever you prefer."

Ayyal had truly no idea what 'the rest of the day' would be like, but since it sounded like it might involve a lot of other people, the possibility of having to go bound and nude appeared quite daunting to him. When Wicker let go of him and stood next to him, the feline grudgingly opted to stay in place with humiliating compliance. So he lay on his spread knees, curved forward. When he looked up to the handler, Ayyal did his best to prevent the meek submissiveness that he felt to appear in his expression, and hardened his eyes and muzzle. Sadly, Wicker didn't buy it, and giggled derisively.

"Okay. This will do."

Wicker placed a boot between Ayyal's shoulder blades and shoved him harder against the floor. Then, to the cheetah's surprise, he turned to the nearest door, and shouted:

"You can come in, now. He's docile for the moment."

Ayyal's efforts to seem neutral broke down when three more of these strange people entered. They saw his previously proud figure bent in complete defeat and dishonor. They didn't even look particularly startled, like this was exactly what they expected to see coming in! The hunter flushed powerfully and couldn't look at any of them. He stared at a spot on the floor, right before his nose, and froze up. All he could sense was Wicker's boot effortlessly topping him, and how nude and vulnerable he was. The visitors remained at a distance of a meter and a half or so, but formed a semi-circle around the handler and his pitiable slave.

The one leading the group of visitors was the weirdest of all. The groundhog wore a very lengthy and ample piece of clothing, colored in bright pink, that covered her stubby body from shoulders to knees. Despite her small stature and rather chubby face, her gaze expressed extreme annoyance, and the imperious way she moved among the trio disclosed her importance. A tall and brawny chestnut mare wore a blue shirt with "SECURITY" printed on it in very serious-looking white letters, as well as sunglasses -- something that Ayyal had never seen before. The security guard shadowed the pink groundhog with absolute precision. If the latter moved half a centimeter to one side, so did the former, and the horse's suspicious glare never left Ayyal's restrained body for the slightest moment. A sand-colored dog with floppy ears and large whiny eyes uncomfortably followed the other two. Clearly the odd man out, he wore clothes similar to those of the groundhog, save that his were pure white instead of pink. He kept his tail tucked between his legs.

Ayyal didn't know that at the time, but he had before him Dr. More, head scientist of the Upsilon Project, Nicholas Turner, her young intern and designer of the targeting algorithm used by the Upsilon machine, as well as a random security guard that this story won't bother to introduce.

-- Alright, sighed the exasperated Dr. More. Let's cut the crap. Tell us exactly who you are.

The groundhog seemed so angry, it made Ayyal hesitate. Wicker gently reassured him as he diminished the pressure with his foot.

-- Just answer her question. It'll be okay.

So, the feline beat back his shame and answered.

-- I'm Ayyal...

More slapped her hand into her face, but adopted a more patient tone.

-- Obviously, I don't care about your name, slave. I want to know about your status in the world you came from. Were you a king?

The cheetah was astonished by the question.

-- What? No.

-- A chieftain, then? Some kind of leader? A son of a powerful family?

-- No, well, I mean, not really. I guess I technically had my own tribe with Seec, but that doesn't really count since we were only two...

More's thin patience ran out again.

-- A legendary warrior, then? A known gladiator? An inventor? A celebrity of some kind? A revolutionary? Something other than the random loser I'm starting to think I have squirming in my face!

-- Hey! I was, I mean, I'm a skilled fighter. Sort of. Certainly not under the average for my kind. And a great hunter!

The groundhog remained blank and disheartened for a second.

-- No one. A nobody.

-- Don't worry about it, intervened Wicker as he crouched and slipped his hand under Ayyal's chin to raise his face and show off his attractive facial markings. I mean, look at him! We can market him as a righteous and devoted soldier of this wild enemy world, beaten and reduced to a squealing, begging slut. Clients will pay through the nose to whip this elegant predator around and watch him submit to their every degrading whim, I can guarantee it.

Dr. More made a dubious face. She turned to the dog and the poor thing shriveled away.

-- How can you explain this, Nicky? You assured me your algorithm worked!

Nick Turner squeezed his hands together as the room stared at him.

-- It's a self-taught algorithm, he shyly explained. I can't tell you what happened, because it's too complicated for us to even understand its inner workings, but I assure you that it should be fully capable to recognize significant individuals. For one reason or another, it identified this cheetah as an important figure for his world.

Wicker flashed a genuinely amused grin.

-- Are you important to your world, Ayyal?

What the hell could the hunter respond to this?

-- Not really, no. I wouldn't say.

Wicker laughed while Dr. More grumbled darkly. The dog suddenly cheered nervously.

-- It doesn't really matter, though? Does it? Our first transport is a success! You did it ma'am! And like mister Wicker said, this will be a sought after item, right? I'm sure the Founder will be super pleased!

The rabbit approved with a deep nod, and unhanded Ayyal's chin.

-- We'll move him out of the lab and on Temple grounds as soon as possible, in a special section.

Wicker patted the top of Ayyal's round bum possessively, and the outrageous groping in front of others brought a low growl out of the cheetah, who refused to be displayed as a spiritless plaything. The growl immediately changed to a high-pitched complaint and then wriggling muted punishment when the handler casually plunged his hand into his pocket and lengthily pressed a button. A light electric buzz rang while Ayyal trembled in agony at Wicker's booted paws. After that, when the feline's precious spotted butt was patted once more, he stayed silent, and Wicker was satisfied with that.

"In fact, I've already picked out a section mate for him, and won't that be fun for everyone?"

Part two

(Which is about eggs. Other things as well, but mostly about eggs.)

Sam proved to be a pliable and faithful 'dog', and on the dawn of the third day, Wind found that he'd already made up his mind about that one dilemma.

The puma tightened his hold on his warm blankets and rolled to his side, trying to shelter himself from the morning that filtered gently through his bedroom window blinds. Like most every feline, Wind despised mornings. He made vague irritated sounds in protest against the natural passing of time, and brutally threw away his covers, knowing that this was a fight he wouldn't win. So, Wind sat up on his mattress, leaning against the headboard, and granted himself a few seconds to fully awaken. He blinked and licked his hand, smoothing his rounded ears repeatedly.

At this moment, faint soft steps came from behind the bedroom door, and the narrow opening widened when the arctic wolf pushed it with his black nose, and prudently crawled in his handler's room on his hands and knees. Wearing nothing but his slave collar as well as wrist and ankle cuffs that happened to be unfastened at this moment, the canine carried a pair of woolen slippers in his teeth. He approached, tamely placing them at Wind's bedside, and then flattened himself silently next to the objects, waiting for the puma's reaction with satisfying fearfulness.

Wind watched as it happened, and he had to concede that it did something for him. Wicker was... not entirely wrong. Sam did make for an entertaining pet, once properly motivated to show deference. Perhaps. Perhaps having the dumb wolf sitting and begging under the table while Wind ate lunch had a certain je ne sais quoi. It wasn't impossible that he experienced a kind of joy separate from the savage satisfaction of crushing a canine into its basest parts, when Wind watched TV and he noticed that his new obedient puppy discreetly crept closer to his legs until his cool snout just barely touched the puma's paws. For the very first time, maybe Wind 'got' dogs and canines. A little. The previous day, Wind had gone out of his way and purchased slippers, just because he figured that they were part of the 'canine experience' and he found himself interested in trying it out in full.

Wind examined Sam as he lay in total submission by his bed. The wolf slave was cute. He admitted it. He was cute when he blushed at being walked on a leash, and he was cute when Wind pulled his tail and pounded his firm rear. The way he abandoned any dignity and lapped feline spunk also greatly pleased the handler, especially after Sam's early insolence, yet Wind's fun wasn't as simple as one might expect.

Every second of every day, while he watched the wolf grovel, whine, and exhibit his complete vulnerability, Wind warred against his searing, aching desire to stomp the pathetic fuzzy being and break it down further, always further, into even more degraded, helpless pieces. Each endearing act of submission drove Wind to crave crueler punishments, and more demeaning orders for Sam to obey.

The handler got out of his bed, and put on his pink slippers. They were comfortable enough. He immediately adopted them. Besides, they fit with his red pajamas and nightcap. Sam watched him with pleading puppy eyes while Wind placed a knee down in front of the pet. He ran his hand into the lupine fur. It was extra short -- he'd shaved it himself -- and had a rigid yet delightfully thrilling and warm texture. It also gave Sam a compliant, broken appearance that suited a trained slut like him.

Never before had Wind felt so perfectly conflicted and aroused. Canines were enemies -- no; THE enemy. Deep within the feline appeared to boil a bottomless well of ill will toward them. Something in his DNA screamed that they were threats and rivals, and should be broken down, nullified and dominated into mindless, harmless shells of obedience and fear. In some of his darkest fantasies, he took things even further, into more... final directions.

And then, at the same time, as he watched Sam wait pathetically for orders, ears and tail low in unadulterated recognition of Wind's control over his fate; as Wind ran his claws over the stripped body, knowing full well how painful and costly it had to be for the wolf to display such meekness to a hated puma, Wind also wanted to show mercy. How weird, how unnatural it was to feel even vaguely protective to a canine, a filthy dog! And yet there he was. He felt guilty toward his entire species for even tolerating the sight of a wolf, not to mention considering him cute. But after days of having Sam around, accepting every needless punishment and satisfying Wind's every unreasonable demand, he also felt guilty toward Sam, who had proven time and time again that he had no pride left, and no intention of opposing the handler in any way. Was it fun to be obeyed, and to make this canine accept his proper place? Yes, yes it was. Wouldn't it be fair to reward Sam for that? His feline intuitions and his training as a handler pulled him apart.

What to do?

The wolf slave passively offered away his collar, elevating and inclining his white muzzle with slow, domesticated movements. The previous morning, the handler had taken him for a short nude morning walk on his leash in order to show him off to a few friends. Perhaps the wolf expected the same? It was too much. Wind shook his head. This was the moment he realized his decision was made already, about how to deal with this stupid, slutty bitch.

Wind took off his red hat with the white pompom, and placed it on top of Sam's head. It slid forward slightly, covering his eyes adorably until Wind adjusted it. He chuckled at the confused face.

-- There you go. It suits you, Thirty-four.

The puma rose and walked through his room. He stopped in the doorway leading to the living room, and looked to Sam, who remained flat on the floor in his 'down' pose, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"C'mon. Come along."

Sam followed wordlessly. Wind had decided that, as a dumb pet, he should no longer be allowed to speak. He tagged along step for step while Wind went about his early day routine. First priority was taking care of Jackie, of course. The puma headed straight for the central low table, which held his small potted cactus plant. He pressed his padded index into the pot and tested the dryness of the earth by rubbing his fingers. Then he picked up the pot with both hands, and expertly examined the green thorny plant. He smiled.

"Aren't you chipper today," he said to it. "Water day's only next week, you know."

After having moved it away from the cold windows for the night, Wind returned the cactus to its spot on top of the stone stand, where it would cheerfully soak daylight.

With that taken care of, the tawny feline realized that he was famished, and moved to his kitchen where he took three eggs from the fridge and placed them in a pan which he filled with water and put on the stove. As he waited for the water to boil, standing in front of the oven, he distractedly toyed with Sam's snout using his left paw, shoving it left and right and curling his agile toes around his nose, grabbing it. He didn't even look at the wolf, and instead considered the eggs.

"Did you want one? Did you?"

Reduced to begging like a pup to have his needs acknowledged, Sam, the pajama-hat-wearing ex rebel leader, bit the bullet and whined cutely at Wind's feet. The puma beamed and finally graced the slave with a glance, while he augmented the teasing of his muzzle with his paw.

"An egg? Yes? Egg for doggy? Egg good?" he meowed mockingly.

Suddenly, Wind's phone vibrated from his room, on his nightstand. Both feline and canine instantly turned their heads that way, their sensitive ears alerted.

"Stay."

The handler ran through his apartment and picked up his phone. He'd received a message, and was intrigued when he saw the sender. It was a guy on his secret payroll, a low-level staffer in the Admin Wing of Temple. He read the contents while he wandered back to his kitchen. When he finished, Wind wasn't laughing anymore. Apparently, the Admin Wing was in a frenzy. Following the successful launch of the Upsilon Project, a new Temple section was being created for the new arrivals, and he also mentioned that slave 34-D would be transferred there shortly.

34-D. Fucking Sam.

It clicked together in the puma's mind. Why Wicker had been so insistent on being the one to accompany the Founder at Upsilon's trial run instead of handler Wisp, and why the white wolf's track record suddenly seemed so damn important to him. The rabbit was making a move for the new section, and Sam was the pawn he used to do so. This Sam.

The Sam currently groveling at his mercy.

The simple truth occurred to Wind. He could fuck Wicker over. The bunny was making a risky gamble, pushing for one of his own in-training items to be placed in an influent position in this new section that would undoubtedly become very prominent, very fast. But if the slave proved to be a bad pick, say, if a complaint was deposited against him... Wind frowned deviously at the exquisite thought. Maybe next week, he'd have the collared star handler of Temple on his list of items to be trained to service hard dicks, and one less rival. He figured Wicker's bunny ass would stretch fairly wide after a bit of practice, and he'd plead very satisfyingly. Wouldn't that be hilarious!

Wind seriously considered it. He'd worked alongside Wicker for years. He genuinely respected the damn guy, even liked him! Yet he was also pretty sure the rabbit was out to get him. This was simply the way things were. Handler was a desirable job, and with the possible creation of a Master Handler position looming, the stakes were high and so was the mistrust between the most prominent Temple employees. This was especially true in Section D, since it performed best overall and everyone knew the Master Handler would be selected in it. With this information, he could take Wicker down... All he had to sacrifice was one dumb dog.

Sam, on all fours as always, looked up to him with his round sorry eyes, still eagerly waiting to know whether or not he'd get an egg. It pained Wind. It pained him so much.

"Ah, shit."

He crouched before the poor wolf pet, and pinched the sides of his face, shaking it teasingly.

"Yeah, you can have one, Thirty-four."

Nope. He still couldn't quite bring himself to do it. He couldn't throw Sam under the bus after those last few days. Wind rose and added an egg to the boiling water, and glanced at his clock. Eight minutes. Fuck. What was he doing? Was he going insane, letting Wicker get away with this, and secure a decisive advantage that the rabbit might later use against him? The feline felt short of breath. How hot was that goddamned water? Holy hell. It was happening again.

Wind rubbed his forehead as he lucidly recognized the coming of another panic attack. He rushed to his kitchen table and grabbed the first of the two objects on it. It was called a ring bag, and it was a tiny white sac of opaque plastic, tough but very thin and supple, the opening of which was surrounded by a thumb-sized metal ring. With shaking hands, Wind blew into the bag to extend it and then he quickly opened the second object on the table: an old aluminum candy case filled with bright red powder. The feline expertly took a large pinch of it and dropped it into the bag without spilling any. During the entire maneuver, his hands completely ceased shaking. Wind then sealed the bag by placing his thumb over the ring, shook the bag violently, placed the ring against his lips, and sharply breathed in until the bag was completely crumpled into the ring. He licked his fingers and closed the case. He swayed a tad but already he was feeling better. Way better.

Everything appeared clearer, simpler, straightforward and easy. Not complex and intimidating. Not burning. No. Cold. Yes. Manageable. Yes.

Wind truly lived at the peak of civilization.

The panic attack was utterly vanquished, and the puma was on top of his life again. Nah, he wouldn't let that unfair complaint take hold. That was his final decision. That was what he wanted. He didn't really care if Wicker or Wisp got the Master Handler position. Fuck, he didn't even want that shit. He liked his life as it was, and he liked doing his job. Wind laughed happily. They could fight over it as much as they wanted. He was out of that race, and he knew how to broadcast it loud and clear.

Wind whipped out his cell phone, and texted Wicker. He typed: "I know about Sam. Should've told me your stupid plan. Getting the complaint removed right now. Will be sorely disappointed if you have me killed when you win." Some thirty seconds later, Wicker responded: "???" Wind burst out with laughter again, and put his phone away. Wicker could feign innocence all he wanted. He'd let Wisp know he was out when he'd have a chance, and serenity would rule his existence once more. Besides, he never actually stood a chance against those two anyway.

Damn this was a beautiful day.

The eight minutes ended and Wind got the eggs off the stove and drained the boiling water. He added cold water instead and waited a few seconds, took out a plate and sat at his table with his breakfast. He whistled Sam. The wolf urgently crawled to the handler while he cracked and removed the shell of the first egg, and showed it to Sam, who approached a little closer and sat at Wind's paws with hungry, thankful eyes.

"Open up."

Sam obeyed with little hesitation. His tail wagged. Wind cheerfully held the egg over his gaping maw.

"Tongue out, pet."

Sam appeared slightly less assured, but complied anyway. He looked good like that, kneeling and waiting for his egg. Wind almost didn't feel the urge to kick his fangs in at all. Almost. He didn't feel guilty about that thought anymore, though. His instincts were speaking, sure, but he wouldn't act on them. He had them under control. Sam was being a good boy and he'd be rewarded. Simple.

"Here's your egg, but hold on! You'll eat when I say so."

Sam held the awkward pose with the delicious boiled egg on his tongue. Wind nudged his white chest but Sam kept his precious snack well-balanced and didn't complain.

"Beautiful. We'll turn you into something fun yet."

Wind tore off half of the loaf of bread which he kept hidden under a ceramic cloche to keep it fresh, and ate his breakfast with a glass of orange juice. When he was done, he added coffee and water to his coffee machine, and dressed up while the pot filled up. When he returned to pour the content into a large thermos, he wore his blue work shirt tucked into his pants, with the Temple Corporation logo on his shoulder -- a blue rose -- and Section D written under it. He took a scalding sip and trod to the door leading out of his apartment.

"Sam! Here."

Sam padded along with his egg between his teeth and an incredulous look. It was the first time Wind bothered to use his name.

"Don't be daft, mutt. Of course I still remember your name. Now, sit."

The wolf folded his knees and did what he was told, settling his bum next to the doormat, and holding his arms and slender body straight to adopt the required pose. Wind slowed down for a moment, watching the lupine form under the immaculate short fur. He detailed the fit arms and deliciously shapely pectorals on display for him. Without being particularly muscular -- like some other wolves Wind knew -- Sam did have an innate virile appeal to his looks that allowed him to give off a roguish charm even as he submitted to the roughest of treatments. It made him near limitlessly satisfying to conquer and break. The puma understood why he was so popular with the clients. He wasn't even sure that shaving him down had diminished his sexy male aura all that much. He looked more disciplined, maybe, but no less attractive.

"You've been an amusing plaything, I admit it. Since you seem to have learned your lesson, I'm tempted to indulge your request for me to deal with that complaint you received."

The words gave Sam a tiny start. He repressed a feeble squeak while his eyes lit up with previously lost hope. His tail began to brush the floor left and right without stopping. He seemed to desperately want to show his appreciation, undoubtedly with the motivation to ensure Wind wouldn't change his mind, but he successfully kept his self-control and remained where the handler had ordered him to be.

"You're a pet, and I'm your master. I own you, and your fate is mine to dictate. Not Wicker's, mine! If I don't remove that client complaint, you'll be given a low rating. They'll take you to the pound, if you catch my drift. You'll find that being a dog for your feline owner is a whole lot better than being a battered hole downstairs for our... less refined clients. Yet this is my decision to make. Understood? You'd better remember that for the rest of your life, slave. When it really mattered, I saved your worthless hide. You can't even imagine what I'm sacrificing for this. You'll owe me until you die. Wicker may be your real handler, and you'll have to obey him, but you and I will always know who your loyalty truly belongs to."

Sam stared right back into the puma's steely blue eyes, and nodded once, cleanly. Despite himself, Wind melted a little. He removed the bright red hat, and furrowed Sam's head, messing his soft pointy ears. They swiftly returned to their original positions when he stopped.

"Good. Remember what a canine's place is. Now, drop the egg."

Brokenheartedly, the white muzzle lowered, opened up and let the tasty object roll out.

"You and this egg will both be in your respective places when I return. Only after you've appropriately demonstrated respect will you eat. I'll deal with this and be back shortly."

Wind left and shut the door on Sam as he tragically gazed at the forbidden food. The puma grinned. Yes, being obeyed was fun.

Thirty minutes later, Wind was encountering guards by the handful as he approached the security station. Some ignored him, some stepped out of his way with a curt acknowledgment. Tension floated around. As he sipped his coffee, the puma could feel the groups of armed bullies swiveling and throwing him looks after they passed him. There had always been a thing between the security personnel and handlers. The way Wind understood it, they were jealous of his privileged status and pay. Well, fuck 'em. They didn't have to go through half the suffering he did to get this position. They didn't know what the W Wing was like. They thought they were special because security obeyed their own separate hierarchy. Wind was in a good mood, for once, and he didn't want to let them ruin it for him by taking shit.

The feline stopped in front of the Section D security office, and hammered on the large metal door. The camera over the door adjusted itself and zoomed on his face. He confidently stared back into it, knowing the head of security inside was undoubtedly swearing at his sight. It took a moment, but after about forty seconds, the door brutally slid open with a loud buzz, revealing Luther, who filled the entire doorway and looked royally displeased.

-- What do you want, Wind?

Now, Wind had multiple valid reasons to dislike Luther. Not only was he was a giant -- and Wind really did mean giant -- wolf, and the head of security for Section D, but Luther also looked like dirty gutter trash. He had a long, wild and unkempt mottled fur of grays and browns that he mostly hid under a dark blue Temple security jacket that had been custom-fitted for him. Wind despised him in the best of days. No feline would dare walk around in public exhibiting such an obvious lack of self-care! He was living proof of the savage and inferior nature of canines.

However, Luther was also probably big enough to grab each of Wind's top and bottom halves into his hands, and possibly strong enough to just... disconnect the two. As this would constitute a major inconvenience for the puma, he usually kept as far away from the chief of security as felinely possible. This arrangement suited them both, but this visit couldn't be helped. Wind needed the security recordings of Sam from three days before, or he wouldn't be able to do anything about the complaint. But with the Red Mist still reducing Wind's anxieties to almost zero, the handler couldn't prevent his distaste from 'subtly' spilling over.

-- I need you to do your job, for once, and hurry up. There's a time sensitive matter I must take care of, and I need-

Luther frowned darkly and the door slid shut in Wind's face with a resounding thwack. Wind hung there for a short moment, gaping stupidly at the metal door. He sighed and massaged his forehead, and then pummeled the metal like before. He waited for a minute, and then brutalized the door some more until it buzzed and opened again. Luther stood tall behind it, arms crossed over his chest, angrily daring Wind to try and force his way in.

"... I need access to some security disks from three days ago."

Luther ignored every word. He simply said:

-- Security officers aren't my servants.

And then nothing.

-- What? Stop fucking around, I need it right now! There's a timer on this!

-- Security officers aren't my servants.

Another pause. Wind finally caught on.

-- Are you serious?

Luther shrugged.

-- I thought you said you were in a hurry.

Oh, how Wind hated this. He genuinely considered turning back and fucking off. But then he thought of what would happen to Sam, and felt quite bad. He couldn't believe how far he was willing to go for a single useless mutt. He sighed and said it.

-- Fine. Security officers aren't my servants.

Luther didn't budge.

-- Now, say it without irony.

The meltdown began.

-- Fuck right off, Luther! I'm not asking you to serve me, I'm asking you to do your goddamned job! And if you waste even one more second of my time, I'll make sure you'll be wasting your life in government work placement queues by next week!

The reaction was instantaneous. The monster wolf absorbed the blow of the threat, but didn't cave to the handler's authority. He doubled down. In fact, Wind realized he'd made a mistake when Luther dashed out of the room and grabbed him by the neck only to shove him high into the wall behind him. The thermos fell and what was left of Wind's coffee spilled on the floor. The canine beast held the robust predator's entire weight with one arm at the cost of no visible effort. Wind's eyes widened in shock and in fear when Luther barked deafeningly right into his face. It seemed strange that the puma would notice this trivial detail in such a moment, but he observed the clean sharp fangs and mostly odorless breath. He'd expected the oversized dog to be utterly foul.

-- Try it, handler, growled the angered security chief. Try it and see how far you get.

Wind was released and he slid down along the wall, slightly dazed. Luther had called his bluff. Sure, a handler could use their considerable influence to rain down quite a lot of shit on the heads of security personnel, but in the end they had no direct ability to get them hired or fired. All they could do was pressure the Admin Wing, but the security office could respond to that pressure by throwing a very real deluge of wrenches into every aspect of a handler's daily activities. They could move captives without warning invoking security reasons, they could prevent clients from accessing the items they paid for, they could even quarantine entire areas of Temple, including the training rooms, which technically meant they could cancel any training session at any time. No, it was definitely not good to pick a fight with security.

As he sat on the floor massaging his throat and picking up his empty thermos, Wind decided he'd been going about this all wrong. Luther was heading back to his office.

-- Wait, wait! the puma croaked as he struggled to let air through.

The security chief wasn't stopping. He was about to shut the door again.

"Wait, you megasized flea value meal! I apologize."

This got Luther to freeze in his tracks. His head turned to the side as his dark eye focused on the insulting handler. A low murderous growl resumed building up from his chest.

-- Say, what?

Wind sprang to his paws with a renewed cocky smirk. He dusted his chest and shoulders and shook his muzzle with a quick slicking of his head fur and ears to straighten them up.

-- I don't like you. Your mere presence is injurious to me. But so what? You're right. I should've been more courteous. We have to work together, so we should be able to put up with each other like professionals. We both know that I'm a dick. I struggle to contain these things, but I'll make more of an effort. Will you let me start over and speak my piece? I swear that I'll be out of your knotty fur faster this way.

Luther finished rotating and faced the feline, crossing his arms once more. He squinted at Wind, and then closed his eyes and took an immense breath through his nose, sniffing the air.

-- You're high. I can smell it in your blood.

A cold shiver ran through the puma.

-- I dunno what you're talking about.

-- Whatever, sighed the wolf. State what you want.

Wind grinned and walked calmly up to Luther, entering the reach of his dangerous arms. Though his blood pumped, he showed only a cold façade so that the beast would witness his lack of fear. He saw that the bold gesture did have an effect on the lupine.

-- I need to get access to a security recording from three days ago. Pretty please with a side of ice cream.

The chief grumbled, but finally turned around. He walked further in the security office without shutting the sliding door. Wind followed him.

The room wasn't particularly big, and most of the space was occupied by security monitors and controls for the many, many cameras and microphones located around Section D. Hallways, training rooms, dormitory living rooms and, naturally, the slaves' cells where they slept, as well as the booths where the clients took them to play around. Wind saw multiple empty booths, but also one or two occupied ones, though morning wasn't Temple's busiest hours by any means.

There, surrounded by this army of screens displaying pretty much all of the activity going on in their section, Luther sat and throned in his large swiveling chair. Two more security guards were discussing unknown matters in a hushed voice. They took a look, but made sure to stay away from the danger zone when they noticed that their boss was being accompanied by Wind. In fact, a few seconds later, they left the room altogether. The puma envied them, as he found the room was uncomfortably hot with all the heat generated by the monitors, as well as the simple fact that he had to remain in close proximity to Luther. The wolf rolled his chair toward a large computer with a keyboard, and began searching through files.

-- Three days ago in the evening?

-- Yeah.

Wind stepped up and looked over Luther's shoulder, which clearly annoyed the security chief. He put up with it, however, undoubtedly hoping that it would keep Wind's visit as short as possible.

-- Concerning which item?

-- Thirty-four.

Luther selected a file and brought it up on the screen, but didn't play the recording.

-- What are you looking for in there?

-- I don't need to see it now. I need you to make me an authenticated copy.

Luther twitched, glancing at Wind.

-- No.

The refusal sounded pretty final. What the hell could the problem be now?

-- What d'you mean, 'no'?

-- New security measures. They came in just today. The paper scratchers are all in a frenzy for some reason. I can't let any document that shows structural information about Temple out of the isolated security servers without prior authorization from Admin.

Wind recoiled at the unforeseen problem.

-- What, like the walls and shit? The inside of the rooms? Those are videos! They're all gonna show that!

Luther nodded. While he didn't seem especially happy about the new measures, he appeared weirdly enthused by the fact that this nonsense was providing him with a reason to deny the handler.

-- Exactly. I can't let any data get out. They're doing some restructuring regarding Upsilon and they must be afraid of bribes and leaks. I imagine that captives from other worlds have a lot of value, and they want to protect their investments at all costs. I'm guessing they're stressing out about infiltrations from third parties. Anyway, if you want a copy, get your request approved first.

Getting his request approved would take a day or two for sure. The handler didn't have that kind of time before the complaint would be permanently registered to Sam's file, and he couldn't contest the complaint without the video to prove Sam's innocence! Wind could practically sense the Red Mist doing overtime to keep him calm. He felt utterly helpless. He'd waited too long and fucked it up! Sam was doomed to being reduced to a stationary cock-rack for the rest of his soul-grinding, defiling existence, like the rest of the low-rated items. Yes, something about that still appealed to the feline a lot, but that wasn't what he'd decided! Heck, he'd even practically promised to that silly pet that he'd take care of it. Right at this moment, Sam was submissively sitting in wait next to his egg, reassured that he was safe and that Wind was dealing with this! He couldn't just... fail to deliver after that! He'd look like the cruelest, weakest motherfucker ever to see the light of day! Worse yet, he'd told Wicker that he would take care of the problem. If he didn't, Wicker would surely believe that Wind was actively trying to backstab him for the Master Handler position. The black rabbit would most absolutely not take this lying down. He'd strike back in some way, and Wind genuinely doubted he'd be able to win a straight up war against the star of Temple. Even if Wicker couldn't recover from this, Wisp would definitely view this as a bid for power, and she might feel threatened enough to preemptively get rid of Wind. The puma simply did not want to get involved with that sort of power struggle bullshit at all!

No. Truly, Wind couldn't accept this. He renewed his decision right then, and fortified his resolve. No matter what, he wouldn't let that complaint take hold.

-- I can't do that, protested Wind. There's no time. I need the video to contest a complaint, and it'll be registered today!

Luther raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother with putting on an apologetic face.

-- Sorry, but you should've taken care of this way sooner. Why didn't you contest the complaint on your item as soon as it was lodged?

Wind tightened his fists, and fought to maintain composure as guilt began to pierce through even the Red Mist.

-- Because... I wasn't sure I wanted to do it in the first place. It's not even one of my items. It's Wicker's.

-- Wicker's or yours, it doesn't make a difference, concluded the wolf. If you wanted to help him, you should've done it at the first opportunity. If you manage to come back in time with permission from Admin, I'll release a copy for you.

Luther extended his arm, and showed the handler the door with his open hand. Wind didn't move.

-- You know that's impossible.

-- Probably not.

-- Isn't there anything more you can do?

A wolfish cocky smile.

-- Not for you.

Wind regained hope as he witnessed Luther's callous expression. So there was something after all, but Luther wasn't willing to bother with it for the feline's sake. Wind threw his hands up in a gesture of resignation, and then let his arms fall to his sides.

-- Oh well, I tried. I can't prevent that one slave from suffering a wholly vile and undeserved fate, filled up with dicks until the end. At the very least, it'll remove a dirty wolf from the world. Silver lining, right Luther?

That did recapture the chief's attention.

-- What are you talking about, you ass?

Wind comically feigned innocence.

-- You didn't know? Thirty-four is one of your fellow wolves. Real handsome male, flashy white, long fur. Well, it used to be long until I shaved the hell out of him! You should see him now. It was so cute the way he rolled around and begged me to help him out of that bad spot he found himself in. I mean, you probably have to be fairly scared to implore a feline for help as a 'proud' wolf, right?

-- Sam's the item in question?

-- You know him, then? That's good. Maybe you can visit him downstairs, every once in a while, and give him a bit of love. He'll definitely need it after he gets re-classified as a mindless fuck-station.

Luther fell completely silent for several seconds.

-- Why would you want to help a wolf?

-- I dunno. Maybe I got a soft spot for slutty barking bitches, after all. As long as they know their place, and lift tail when I want them to. It doesn't really matter anymore, though. Nothing we can do. See ya chief!

Wind turned his back on the oversized puppy and walked straight toward the door.

-- Cat. Wait.

Wind turned around and saw that he'd won. He read it into Luther's large eyes and the reluctant, tight-lipped look on his muzzle. Wind celebrated. Yet another dog tamed! Even the mighty Luther was no match for a puma's intellect. The wolf grumbled, but he yielded and got to work, copying the video recording on a disk and filling in the virtual paperwork confirming that the copy was legal and that Wind was allowed to use it.

"I'm making a copy of this file for you as an extraordinary measure for security reasons."

-- What security reasons?

-- The security of Sam, apparently.

Wind chuckled.

-- Does that count as a serious security issue?

-- No, it doesn't. When my boss in Admin finds out that I abused this protocol, I'm going to get chewed out.

Luther pawed the disk and held it toward Wind, but when the handler went and reached for it, Luther retracted his arm.

"Before I hand this over, you must realize that if this leaks out of these walls in any way, I'm fucked, you're fucked, we're both fucked. So you keep that disk on you, and whenever it must leave your hands, you should imperatively keep it in your sight at all times. As soon as you're done with it, you bring it back right here without delay so that I can destroy it. Every second that this disk exists, we risk our jobs, and possibly more. Got it?"

-- Got it, chief. We're in this together.

-- One more thing. Helping you here will cost me a whole lot of trouble. You'll owe me for this, Wind.

This notion, the feline didn't like at all.

-- What? No I won't. You're obviously doing this for Sam, not as a favor to me.

Luther frowned.

-- There will be no deal otherwise.

-- I don't believe you. You won't sacrifice Sam just to spite me.

-- Fine, then. Never mind. We're done here. I'll just destroy this and explain that there was a mistake. I won't be able to explain away making two disks. Your new plaything will have to deal with his unfair destiny, like we all do.

Flawlessly, casually, Luther flipped the small flat memory disk in the air and caught it between his teeth. The powerful jaws applied a fraction of their terrifying force upon the small plastic and metal object, and it immediately made scary cracking sounds.

-- Whoa, whoa! Stop! yelled the handler. Okay, you win! I'll owe you, you crazy mutt! Just give it here.

Luther nodded knowingly and handed over the disk without further resistance.

-- That was just in case you were tempted to assume that I'm an easily manipulated idiot. You're the one who really wants this. I'm doing you a favor. I may call upon that favor, sometime. If you don't respond, we'll both know what you're really worth.

-- Yeah, yeah. Don't worry.

Wind held the precious disk and placed it in his pocket. As a safety precaution, he checked the bottom of the pocket to make sure there were no holes. He smiled at how paranoid he was being. This had taken longer than he'd expected, and he'd have to race toward the Admin Wing a little to get this taken care of before noon, which was when the complaint statuses would be updated, but it should be fine. He felt so much better that it made him a tad light-headed. He moved toward the exit, but when he left the room, he twisted around and stared.

"Hey, Luther."

The wolf inquisitively looked up, and the feline adopted a high-pitched mocking cuddly tone.

"Good boy!"

Before the chief could react, Wind had escaped and ran on his way to the Admin Wing. It wasn't long before he slowed down, though. He went by a few people that he knew, exchanging brief salutations, but soon people he met started giving him strange glances. He didn't know why. All he knew was that he felt hot, even more lightheaded than before, and rather weak. At some point, as he was making his way through a corridor with considerable difficulty, he lost balance, and bumped into Wisp who was headed in the other direction. The sturdily built ewe reflexively caught him, otherwise he would've fallen. He hung over her warm shoulder, dazed, gazing down at the military camo pants that she always wore with her blue handler shirt, even if it was against regulations -- Wisp had a military background, and she made sure everyone knew. It was comfortable on her shoulder. Wind was happy there. It was super soft, even if she never allowed her wool to grow too long. It curled, otherwise. She hated that.

-- What the fuck, Wind? Are you okay? You look like you're about to faint.

Faint. Yes, that was it, the feline realized. He wasn't merely light-headed because he was relieved; he was fainting because he'd overdone it with the Red Mist. Fuck. This was the worst possible timing, he knew that, but he struggled to remember why it was such disastrous timing. What was he doing that was important? He had to remember!

-- Wisp... help... can't faint... did some Mist... no time... do the thing...

The ewe gently shook the purring puma rubbing his face into her shoulder.

-- Yep, I can see that you're flying at an impressive altitude right now. Focus, partner. It's nap time for you in a matter of moments. What is it that you need me to do?

-- Pocket... a thing... bring it there to stop it... hurry...

Wind twisted and turned. He was so comfortable! He continued to purr ever louder, and was even starting to foam and salivate. Wisp laughed. She might've been intimidated if it'd been the first time she witnessed him in this state. He was making a mess on her shoulder.

-- You're definitely far gone. Don't let go just yet. You have a thing you need me to bring somewhere to stop something. Any more details you can give me? Because that's not much to go on.

-- Pocket... help... do... Wisp... he waiting... egg.

Passersby were now accumulating to watch the strange scene between those two ranked among the top handlers in Temple.

-- Alright, alright, old boy. Just take it easy and sleep. I'll figure it out, somehow, whatever it is. Don't worry your silly junkie head about it. Guess I'll give the bunny a call and hope he knows what the fuck is going on.

On this, Wind was unable to resist Wisp's suggestion any longer. His last thought was for Sam who would apparently have to wait a damn while for his lunch.

Part three

(In which the brand new Section E is finally inaugurated! And so is Wicker's new male...)

Wind wobbled toward the door to his apartment, miserably carrying his empty thermos. The safe and happy cloud created by the Red Mist had gone away while he was stuck in his restless artificially-induced sleep for four hours, and his mind was now filled with edgy sharp thoughts. Most of all, it seemed that this day had been a total mess. He owed Luther, he'd made a fool of himself in front of his rivals, and now he just generally felt like a wreck. It was only three o'clock.

He opened the door and dragged his paws inside. Sam looked almost as bad as he did, but there was a joyful and eager look in his eyes as he straightened up his stance and waited eagerly for the good news.

-- It's done, Thirty-four. You're all safe and your record is cleared of meaningless complaints. It was... not as simple as I thought it'd be. I'm bushed.

Wind understood that he looked even more like crap than he thought when he saw the heart-wrenchingly thankful look on Sam's face.

"A feline knows things are bad when a dog pities them. Eat your egg, pet."

Sam swiftly gobbled the reward for his trained patience while Wind stumbled toward his bedroom. In the end, Wisp had managed to piece together what was going on by talking to Wicker and searching through Wind's pockets to find the disk. Since she also was a Section D handler, she managed to get the complaint removed, though there was a bit of confusion since the disk was cleared for Wind to use, not Wisp, and she had to throw her weight around to get things moving. There'd be hell to pay for this, the puma expected, but he was too tired to think about that just then. He'd deal with that trouble when it'd show up. Surely, Luther at least would be a bit miffed if he learned it, but Wind would undoubtedly get a severe scolding from the big heads in Admin as well. Whatever. At least the complaint was indeed lifted, and the disk had been returned safely to Luther for authentication and destruction. Wisp had given it back without an argument, even if she knew how much trouble it could cause for her rival and coworker. Gosh, she truly was a trustworthy friend, wasn't she? Wind was glad that he stumbled upon her. His good mood was returning. Things could've been considerably worse, all considered.

What the puma wasn't aware of, as he fell on top of his bed and allowed Sam to climb and ball warmly on top of his legs, was that at this exact same moment, the sheep was busy hiding the unauthorized copy that she'd made of Wind's disk while he was out. She put it in a safe place, meditating how and when she might use it at the puma's expense. She would keep it in case she needed it later to sweep him aside as a rival, but in the meantime, it could prove pretty fun to simply mess around with him by letting him know she had it. Besides, Wind wasn't the only one over whom she'd acquired leverage. Over the phone, when she realized how important Sam was to Wicker's plans, she'd bullied the rabbit into recording and sending her a meticulously humiliating strip tease video in exchange for her cooperation. She could now lord this over his head to 'encourage' the sexy star of Temple into doing all sorts of fun things! The notion of having both of her male colleagues and rivals bending to her will together in the best of ways was considerably enticing. It'd be a refreshing change from training her all-girl roster day-in and day-out. Often, Wisp thought that Temple's inflexible policy of having female handlers train only female items, while male handlers did the males, was very fun-wrecking. She enjoyed some variety. Alas, Wisp didn't make the rules.

Again, Wind was aware of exactly none of that, and, in fact, despite the harassing day, he felt pretty good about himself. He wallowed contentedly in his dominance over Sam, who pressed his nakedness pleasingly against him, in thanks for his critically needed help. Wind slept for a few hours. When his alarm woke him up in the late afternoon, the handler was in top shape, and quite aroused. So, he grabbed Sam's cheeks and shoved him down in front of him on his bed. He was about to give his slutty anal slave a well-deserved fucking when he received a message. At first, he thought it was an automated warning announcing that Sam had a client waiting, since he'd set that up for the time he kept the wolf with him at home, but it turned out different. It was Wicker, conveying official orders to take Sam and come to a specific place outside of Section D. The bunny had returned. Upsilon was a success. It was time to return Sam to his real handler. Wind felt a little pinch about that. Wicker also added a short line at the end of the message stating that they needed to talk. Ominous. But how bad could it be? The bunny had no reason to be angry with him.

The feline grumbled about the poor timing as he took his eager dick away from poking Sam's serviceable hole. The slave seemed confused.

"All work and no play, right Sam, uh, I mean, Thirty-four? You're getting transferred."

It occurred to Wind that he hadn't even told his docile bitch about the fact that he was about to be transferred to a completely different section. A pretty massive change in his life. The shock on his gaping face was hilarious. Wind laughed. It didn't matter. Sam was an item. He didn't need to know, he just needed to obey and provide pleasure. Thus, when Wind leashed his collar and pulled, Sam quickly fell into his usual rhythm, and loyally padded on all fours alongside the handler. They got underway, and Wind paid no further attention to what Sam might or might not feel about the transfer.

It wasn't his decision regardless.

The new section wasn't exactly up to the standards of Temple, but it had the basic necessities. It was a slim area, squeezed between Section B and Section C, and it used old decrepit rooms that saw little usage in both of their previous sections. The contractors had hurried the renovations in a matter of days, and now Section E officially had one training room, two booths for the clients, and a dormitory -- which was really more of a multipurpose living room and kitchen for the items -- with a grand total of only four individual cells connected to it. All of it felt empty and incomplete. While the Founder had great hopes for this new special section, it was clear that the lower level management in Admin were hedging their bets, each one of them scared of seeing themselves blamed for wasting a lot of Temple's money if something went wrong with Upsilon or if Section E proved less popular than expected. If the section made profits, then it might be expanded and improved.

Wind and Sam wandered slowly in the single short corridor that gave access to all the rooms. The handler detached Sam's leash to let him pad along at his own rhythm while the puma checked every room.

-- Take a good look around, doggy. Get familiar. This'll be home. It's not exactly Section D, is it?

Sam did take in his dusty surroundings with a concerned expression on his muzzle. There wasn't much of anything to see in the training room, and some walls weren't even painted yet. The chambers for the clients weren't much better, with cheap beds and no luxury or atmosphere. He worried about discovering the dormitory. For all the rough stuff he had to endure, the endless humiliations, and the persistent reminders that he wasn't a free individual with rights and dignity anymore, Sam had to admit that his Section D dormitory was a place where he felt safe and surrounded by other captives that he'd quickly come to think of as friends. They had TVs, a well lit, well stocked kitchen, comfortable luxurious sofas, and some of the higher rated slaves -- who brought in a tiny bit of money from their services -- regularly bought books and movies to add to the impressive Section D collection. They'd even saved up enough to buy a ping-pong table! As a result, everyone in his dorm fast became ping-pong experts, and Sam was no exception. He'd lost all of this. And what did he gain?

Wind pushed the last door open, the one leading to what would be Sam's new home. The wolf was tense and horribly curious, but he politely waited behind the handler until the puma stepped further in so that he could crawl inside as well. It wouldn't do if he shoved into Wind's legs in an attempt to squeeze through... At last, he crawled in.

It was bad.

Wind and Sam entered the rectangular area. It was devoid of anything that would provide entertainment or comfort, and, in fact, didn't even seem fully renovated. Sam's white ears fell to the sides, but he voiced no complaint. Wind whistled as he neared the center of the room, casually spinning around and staring at every corner.

"That's a big bowl of nothing."

Along the left wall as they entered, four doors led to the cells. More importantly, the pair noted that they weren't alone when they directed their attention to the far end of the room. Behind a worn kitchen counter, Wicker stood close to a cheetah wearing drab slave clothes. Both briefly turned around when they heard Wind and Sam approaching, and then returned to their business. Wicker was teaching the captive how to use everyday household appliances, and the spotted predator appeared unreservedly astounded by the oven. The oven door lay open and the cheetah kept moving his hand closer and then further from the red-hot element in a dreamlike daze, but he wasn't the only feline in shock.

Wind had stopped in his tracks, and he frowned at the utterly striking cheetah. The slave combined a savage, hardened aura with a soft, laser-focused look of innocence as he discovered the impossible world of his conquerors. Naturally, Wicker was all over him and enjoying himself, with both hands on the slave's slender masculine hips and his bunny face looking over the warm shoulder. The lethal hunter didn't seem to mind the touches at this point, fascinated as he was by the wonders of electrical power. Nevertheless, Wicker put a stop to it by shutting the door and turning off the oven.

-- We'll stop here for now. You'll dispose of ample time to learn about all of this. Come, let's meet new people.

The wild-eyed cheetah accepted this without problem and loyally tailed the handler, which made Wind quite jealous. That truly was one superb specimen! The four met in the middle of the room.

Sam's tail raced left and right. As angry at himself as it made him, he was undeniably thrilled to see his real handler again. His enthusiastic outburst caught the black bunny's attention. Wicker looked at Sam. Then he suddenly looked again, more carefully, as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Wind?"

-- What?

-- Did you shave my wolf?

The puma nodded with a profoundly satisfied smirk.

-- Yep.

-- Why!?

-- Don't you like it?

-- He looks like a rat.

-- A cute, wolfish rat, yes. Feel the subby vibe he gives, now? And that texture!

On this, Wind pressed his boot on Sam's lower back, where the crack of his ass began, and the canine gave Wicker a resigned but pleading glance as he descended lower on his hands and knees, and mutely lay down at everyone's feet.

-- God, what did you do to him?

-- Puppy learned his place, these days. I can tell you that. Wanna see something funny?

Before Wicker could answer, the puma sternly gave the order.

"Tongue!"

All could see how much Sam was loath to openly display the depths of his surrender, but his pink tongue emerged from his muzzle anyway. He shut his eyes in shame and anticipation of pain when Wind's boot stepped on it, but the puma mercifully applied no weight. Wicker sighed, shaking his head in humorous disapproval.

-- Oh, Wind. You're incorrigible.

The handlers were amused, but the newly caught cheetah wasn't. Ice shards danced up and down Ayyal's spine as he watched the prideless, broken way that this white wolf accepted this ignominy. Was that the fate that awaited him for the rest of his life? He had to find a way out of this insane place!

Sadly, Ayyal couldn't fully repress a slight twitch away from this slave that had been entirely stripped of his dignity. Both handlers instantly noticed, and the same vicious look grew on their faces.

"Well, well," intoned the rabbit in a creepily low voice. "I don't think our new addition likes what you did with Sam."

The puma released the wolf's tongue with his foot. Instead, he used his paw to push the cowering slave to his side, and then onto his back. Sam raised his hands and knees like a pathetic dog while Wind simply flaunted his dominance by placing his boot on top of the pure snow belly. He rubbed the hardened sole into the short fur and warm flesh while Sam accepted everything with defeated passivity. The puma locked eyes with the cheetah and efficiently followed through with Wicker's set up. Despite their rivalries, the duo knew each other, and worked together like a well-oiled relentless machine in which the new captive was stuck.

-- No? Why not? Sam likes it. Don't you Sam?

Sam urgently panted and begged, and grinded himself against his master's boot. Ayyal would've loved to step away from the daunting display, but Wicker was already circling him, wrapping his waist with his black arm, and gently but insistently pushing him toward the other slave. The hunter already knew the price for disobeying the bunny. He searched around for something, some way to get out of this. He did not want to end up like this wolf, who watched helplessly as the handlers did whatever they wanted with him. Wicker spoke softly as he held the new slave.

-- Maybe he's merely intimidated, teased the rabbit. It's a matter of breaking the ice. Go ahead, don't be shy. I'll introduce you two. Ayyal, this is Sam. Sam, Ayyal. Sam used to be a rebel until he was taught better. Ayyal was, err, some tribal warrior, I think.

The long-eared handler suddenly began kneading the cheetah's shoulders.

"So tense! Don't be nervous. Sam has been here for some time, now. He can help you figure out how things work around here. You guys should get to know each other."

Wind moved his boot lower on the submissive lupine body. He placed a bit of pressure onto Sam's cute little cock and his balls.

-- Intimately, the puma added.

The wolf yelped with a shiver. The handlers laughed.

"Besides," continued Wind, "it'll be good for Sam to have opportunities to reinforce his latest lesson. You remember what you are to a feline, yeah?"

Sam threw begging glances all around, but Ayyal obviously was in no better position, and Wicker allowed the puma his fun.

"Say it for our newbie." insisted Wind.

Sam once more swallowed what was left of his self-respect, and said the first words he'd been allowed to speak for almost three days.

-- A bitch, he admitted.

Sam hadn't been this embarrassed since very long ago, and it got even worse when he saw how surprised the new captive was to witness Sam's complete spinelessness. Damningly, he was growing harder under Wind's boot, as it squeezed his sex against his belly. There wasn't much that he could do about it. He merely had to accept that this feline slave would know how beaten and subby he could be made.

-- Very good, approved Wind. Display!

The order wasn't expected, but Sam reflexively bounced to his paws as soon as the handler released him from under his boot. While it was good not to have to wriggle on the floor in front of everyone, standing with his arms up behind his head in an open display stance definitely made his erection impossible to ignore. The new feline slave -- this Ayyal -- straight up blushed at the sight. Sam tried his best not to look at him.

The ever vigilant Wicker reacted without delay.

-- Aww! Did you see that? I detect heavy chemistry, here.

Wind snickered.

-- You always did enjoy playing matchmaker.

-- This should be fun!

And then, Wicker turned serious. He stared directly into Ayyal.

"Take your clothes off."

The cheetah's fists tightened. Massive tension built up in him at unimaginable speed, torn between two things he absolutely didn't want. He knew what the price would be for disobeying the rabbit, and he truly had no desire to risk getting shocked again. On the other hand, he couldn't willingly strip right there on command for his enemies, could he? Who the hell did that? Then again, he saw no way out of it. Already, Wicker was starting to exhibit some disapproval at Ayyal's lack of reaction, and as seconds went by, the captured hunter became increasingly aware of the growing unavoidability of punishment unless he complied soon. Out of ideas and time, Ayyal tried to argue the matter.

-- Why?

The other more aggressive-looking feline was taken aback by the new slave's cheekiness, but Wicker's reaction seemed more temperate.

-- It should be obvious that masters don't need to justify their orders to their property. I know what's going on in your mind, so I'll explain for you, because you're still a fresh catch. You don't need to wonder about the consequences of what you're told to do, or how degrading you worry it may be, or anything at all. I understand that some social instincts are pushing you to try and save face, and to protect your pride, but none of these things will be significant factors in your life anymore. You're no longer in the wilds, where you need to project a permanent appearance of uncompromised strength to discourage attacks. You'll live here under the complete control of Temple Corporation and the Federation of Unified Islands. You'll submit to your superiors pleasingly and unquestioningly. You don't get to choose. Rebelliousness will only degrade your situation. As handlers, it's important that we make you understand your position as soon as possible.

Wind rolled his eyes at the lengthy explanation.

-- Strip or get punished until you strip, he summarized. Be more like Sam, here.

The puma smacked the white lupine buttocks with his open hand to make his point. And then he fondled under his tail. The wolf accepted this shameless use of his naked body with practiced passivity, keeping his display pose, but his snout dropped ever so slightly. His stiffened cock twitched once. It wouldn't grow any harder, by then.

Naturally, this accomplished little to make Ayyal more comfortable. Wicker, however, was out of patience, and his hand neared his pocket. The cheetah knew what that meant, and gritted his teeth.

-- Start with your shirt. Do it!

In his mind, Ayyal still felt stuck, but then his arms got moving and began to pull the grey shirt that Wicker had given him earlier over his head. He felt awful that he was doing it, but at the same time there was a sense of relief that apparently the decision had been made in some part of his body. He just had to follow along with this initial reaction, and he wouldn't get disciplined. Yet, the true test of his servility came after his shirt hit the floor at his paws, and the dreamy gold and white fur of his dotted back and chest were revealed.

"Good start," approved the bunny. "Now, remove the rest."

He could barely believe it, but Ayyal slid his thumbs under the waistband of his short pants, and mustered the resolve to push them down. He knew he was beaten. What else could he do? Perhaps, if he had the rabbit's amazing fighting skills, he could do something about it, but as things were, he had to accept the daunting reality that he belonged to this tribe, who were apparently only interested in reducing him into a sex plaything. So he did it. He unclothed himself in front of the trio. He was so... vulnerable. So owned... They all stared, wide-eyed. Even the tamed wolf.

Time stopped.

Wind lost his predatory grin. Wicker crossed his arms, but found nothing to say. Even having seen the cheetah naked before, he hadn't appropriately prepared for the flawless, flamboyant male body standing with its full glory exposed. Divine was the only word fit to describe it. The wild tribal warrior was perfect in proportions, perfect in health, perfect in everything. He was the very description of what nature intended, of what it strove to attain! The slave didn't even seem aware of his own appeal. Adding to the tableau the charmingly docile presence of Sam, who still awaited further instructions with his dick standing up for anyone to enjoy, and who was unarguably quite a sight by himself, caused the handlers to brutally overdose on sexy captive flesh. Their brains took a couple of seconds to reboot.

-- Motherfucker.

Wind said nothing more, as he stepped back and to the side to try a different angle. Meanwhile, Wicker made a concerted effort to tear himself away from the terribly attractive view of the pair of slaves who stood close to each other in front of him. He slapped himself in the face twice. He told himself over and over that he was just being silly, that he was a professional and shouldn't be so affected by items in training, but none of that reasonable self-talk diminished his flooding arousal. His pants suddenly felt much tighter.

Wicker shook his head and refocused. As the initial daze faded, he found himself more and more inspired. He could think of a couple training exercises that would entertain... Wind proved to be similarly inspired as he seized Sam's collar and used it to force the wolf to his knees. Ayyal reflexively leaned away when Sam's obedient muzzle was shoved toward his crotch, but Wicker quickly slid behind the cheetah and caught his shoulders, preventing his escape. The puma handler sounded ecstatic as he pushed the warm lupine snout under Ayyal's ballsack.

"See, Sam? Even the lowliest feline is above you. Lick."

Ayyal shivered when the conquered wolf tongue lapped his fuzzy testicles. The hot, wet muscle drenched his sack, tickling and caressing his orbs expertly. What the hell was going on? The hunter tried to turn toward the black rabbit, but Wicker grabbed a fistful of his nape and firmly kept him facing the broken wolf. Damn bunny was deceivingly strong.

-- Surprised, Ayyal? You shouldn't be. You're here to serve your betters in whatever way they desire. What you assumed or expected doesn't matter. For now, we want you standing and erect, so make an effort for us, hmm? Otherwise, Sam may have to lick your ass. You wouldn't wish that on poor Sam, would you?

Sam silently continued to tease the feline balls, his nose buried into Ayyal's sack. The cheetah's mind raced. Forcing someone to lick someone else's rear? What a callous and depraved place he'd landed in! These handlers were crazy! And they seemed to have way too much fun with this. Wicker even began to tightly hug the cheetah from behind, enjoying the texture of the whitish chest with his free hand. It was rather overwhelming for Ayyal, especially given the vision of the nude, short-furred wolf on his knees, tamely servicing his male bits. Sam gave him a begging, pitiful glance, pleading for the other slave to comply and make this easier on him, but what could Ayyal do? Yes, he was certainly growing aroused. How could he possibly make it happen faster? It was nonsense!

Wind laughed, and gripped Sam's head by his ears.

-- Fine, then. Rimming time.

In a flash, Wicker released Ayyal's neck and his hand flew under Ayyal's left knee to raise it high and reveal his tailhole. The cheetah was startled. He wavered, but Wicker held him steady in his embrace that was aggressive and affectionate in equal parts. The puma handler in front of them harshly wedged the sorry white muzzle between Ayyal's cheeks, and the resigned wolf hurriedly began to lick ass.

This was also a new experience for the captured hunter. There was a wolf tongue slurping his asshole! And his new masters watched and laughed! The wet tongue moved between his cheeks, tickling with slippery caresses, covering his fleshy forbidden ring. The entire thing was alien and wrong! And yet the cheetah couldn't stop grinding his teeth as he tensed up at the thought of the unfortunate canine, down there, servicing him in such a base way. The sensation enthralled him. He strove to hide the effect this unseemly act was having on him, but his dick -- this total traitor -- betrayed him. The handlers' delight redoubled as they witnessed the sudden response and the rising feline cock. Wind, in an enthusiastic spike of cruelty, shoved the wolf muzzle even harder and Ayyal sensed the humid nose against his most taboo area. Sam emitted a meek complaint, for which Wind gave his rump an immediate and harsh spank.

"Shut up, Sam. It's what you're for."

The trained white muzzle resumed its duty without further protest. Meanwhile, as Ayyal finished hardening into a monstrous boner, he sensed yet another solid bulge, when the bunny handler discreetly ground his waist against his bum. The cheetah was fully trapped, standing on one paw with his other leg spread open to the side, and held under the complete control of Wicker. As distressing and humbling as it was, it was also difficult not to feel sheltered against the handsome rabbit warrior that had so profoundly impressed Ayyal. Perhaps this was true defeat. In this shameful moment, Ayyal wasn't merely reduced to a boy toy, but he couldn't even gather the nerve to attempt to resist. His subjugation coated everything. He could only see the way his and this wolf's stripped bodies were being used and rubbed together, he heard only squishy fleshy sounds and the heavy steamy breathing of two aroused male sluts, he smelled only the fragrance of sex and revealed intimacy. He'd never been so dominated... Well, maybe once, but it wasn't so scary and out of control, then!

Wicker seized his rigid dick with the hand that had been rubbing his belly. He spoke in his ear.

-- Such a cute thing. Looks like you're all primed for some service. See? Serving can be fun if you cooperate and remember your place. Don't fight it.

On this, Wind finally pulled Sam's face back. He looked more broken than ever before, with his muzzle covered in his own saliva that he'd spread over the insides of Ayyal's buttocks. His eyes remained low, and his ears drooped backward as soon as Wind released them. The puma ran his claws possessively into the short fur, scratching the lupine head and the yielding ears, and then moving lower to rub his neck. All the while, he controlled his loyal dog with a steady hand on his collar to ensure Sam would keep his feline master in mind every single second. At last, he guided the canine snout toward Ayyal's rod. Wicker prevented the cheetah from moving away.

-- You should be glad, casually stated Wind as he expertly evaluated Sam's submission. This is a rare opportunity for an anal slave like you to take cock somewhere else than up your rear. Go ahead. Show how thankful you are to serve a feline.

Sam's tail rose upward and wagged gently. He bent and suddenly gulped the sizable male limb, eagerly blowing Ayyal, who could only watch and try to hide the pleasure that the tamed muzzle provided him. The hunter fought to ignore the intensity of having his sensitive barbs, spread over the slick head of his dick, rubbed and worked by the subjugated wolf. The poor slave closed his eyes and sucked cheetah meat with no restraint that might've hinted at any honor or pride he salvaged from his treatment in this place. This, beyond everything else, made Ayyal anxious about being next on their list. Whatever they did to this Sam, they could do to him. Already, he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist giving their captors what they wanted. He was only a sexy aroused body to them; an assemblage of parts that they could toy with and train to obey. How could he fight them here, in their own lands?

Ayyal held for as long as he could, but there wasn't much he could oppose to the warm tongue and mouth teasing and pleasing his inflated sex, and flooding his head with sizzling, unbearable promises of immediate satisfaction. In the end, he clenched his teeth so violently that it hurt when he was overwhelmed by the orgasm. Powerless moans escaped him as he shamefully offered his extreme sexual pleasure for the smirking handlers to witness, and blew his hot loads into and over the white muzzle.

At the same time, Wind started to roughly milk the male bitch that he'd spent three days keeping on edge. Soon after Sam obediently accepted being used as the wolf version of a tissue, he was squealing and spurting all over Ayyal's elegant belly fur in turn. Wicker forced the new slave down on his back and hurriedly stepped away to avoid becoming an unintended casualty of the spunk bomb going off, while Wind gleefully shoved his pliable Sam on top of Ayyal, rubbing them together while they finished ejaculating, ensuring that the lesson in humility would be splashed over both slaves.

The handlers stood over their finished artwork: this pile of crushed, collared cheetah and wolf, looking up in bewildered embarrassment while coated in their own juices. Wind rubbed his hands together.

"Excellently done, boys. I'm sure this will do for a first introduction. Right Wicker?"

-- Absolutely. You may choose your cells and settle in. I'll return soon to provide further instructions. In the meantime, you should clean up and rest. Sam, I'm counting on you to help your new section mate figure out how things work around here.

Wind squinted with a glare.

-- While keeping in mind your own station as a canine.

Wicker made a dismissive gesture toward his colleague.

-- Ignore him, Sam. You're back under my tutelage, from now on. You're both items of Section E without ratings. As long as you undergo your training, respect your handlers, serve your clients well and don't cause trouble, you two may organize between yourselves however you see fit.

The rabbit swiveled toward the door leaving the dormitory, and then spoke to Wind.

"Step with me outside for a moment. I'd like a word before we split."

Wind followed Wicker, but before he did, he pointed to his eyes, and then pointed toward Sam, indicating that he would survey the situation as well, and that he still expected Sam to display appropriate deference to the 'superior' cheetah.

The door shut on the handlers' departure, and the tangled pair of used males was abandoned, exhausted and utterly lost, in the middle of the large bleak room. Sam shyly looked to the new captive. To think that, after all he'd been through, he was still stuck with a feline! Based on his experiences, he expected the worst, especially considering that the cheetah was some kind of a warrior, who might be inclined to use violence to enforce dominance over him. Sam was no fighter, and might not be able to defend himself. The wolf almost felt like crying in fearful anticipation. He still had no idea of how profoundly dissimilar beasts Ayyal and Wind would turn out to be. However, he received his first major hint about this matter when the cheetah unhesitatingly gazed back, and said only one thing to his fellow messy slave:

-- Are you alright?

Behind the door, Wicker and Wind walked into the nearby training room. Now that they were in private, Wicker appeared much less pleased.

-- What's wrong? asked the puma.

-- I didn't want to say anything in front of the items, but do you remember what I said?

Wind had seen the bunny in this state before, he realized. Wicker spoke calmly, but it was a front. In truth, he way beyond displeased; he was infuriated. Wind didn't know why.

-- Huh?

-- When I told you about the complaint on Sam, did I ask you to get Wisp involved?

-- I didn't exactly-

-- Because, you know, if I had wanted Wisp involved, I could've done that without you. She's a Section D handler. I could've asked her to help me out instead of you. I didn't. Do you know why?

Wind sighed and looked to the ceiling.

-- Why?

-- Because I know her better than you do.

-- Yeah, isn't she your girlfriend or something? What's the big deal?

-- What's the big deal? Oh, sure, Wisp is nice and everything. A super fun gal to spend time with. It's great! As long as you obey the one critical rule for surviving her.

-- Which is?

Wicker threw his arms up and shouted.

-- You don't get Wisp involved with your business! You don't ever, ever allow her to get real leverage over you!

Wicker grabbed his long fluttery black ears and pulled them down hard in aggravated panic. He paced left and right, speaking so fast and incoherently that Wind wasn't fully sure that he was still talking to him.

"I asked myself, you know? I did! I knew that you might not be able to resist the temptation to mess with Sam when I learned about the complaint, so I considered asking Wisp instead. But then I thought about it, didn't I? Do I really want to end up bound as Wisp's footstool with a butt plug shoved up my hole? No, right? That's not an optimal fate for me. Better leave her out of this, then! But that's not what you thought! Noooo! You thought: hey I've got a great idea! I'll do a bunch of Red Mist so that I'll collapse into Wisp's arms with sensitive material on me, like a dumbass, making absolutely fucking certain that she'll be put into a position that'll totally allow her to fuck us with a bulldozer if she so desires! That's a sweet plan! Great job, man. Great fucking job. I'm fucked. You're fucked. We're fucked."

-- What are you talking about?

Wicker stopped pacing and leaned against a wall. He somberly massaged his forehead, finally calming down.

-- It's too late now. Her hammer's already fallen onto my head. She forced me give up dirt on myself in exchange for removing the complaint. I can only assume that she prepared something for you too. Wisp isn't the type to pass up an opportunity to sideline a potential rival. The only thing to do is keep our heads down and accept the consequences of your stupidity until I find some way to get us out of her clutch.

Wind shook his head.

-- She could've kept the security disk assigned to my name to pressure me, but she didn't.

-- Maybe. Maybe you're such a hapless fool that she decided to spare your non-threatening ass. You should pray that that's what happened. I doubt it, though. Most likely she'll ream you sooner or later. Especially considering the times we live in, with the Upsilon Project online, and the special section. Trust me. Section E will be our last battlefield. Whoever wins here will be Master Handler. Upsilon is the future of Temple. The Founder will want someone able to train these slaves from other worlds. We got lucky with the cheetah. Next one might not be so easy.

-- About the Master Handler. I'm not interested. Fight Wisp over it if you want.

Wicker froze. Then, at last, he warmed up again and gave the puma a slap on the back.

-- You say that right now. No one knows the future. I got a head start thanks to Sam, but maybe you'll feel differently as opportunities present themselves to you. At any rate, don't expect me or Wisp to take you at your word.

Wind frowned.

-- This isn't a move! I mean it. I don't want it.

-- And claiming this in order to be left alone is the exact right move to make. You can't escape it. If anything, I'll be more careful around you from now on.

Wicker reached for the door, and opened it for his fellow handler. Wind shrugged.

"Come on, let's go grab a bite," proposed Wicker. "My treat. You can tell me about those three days with Sam. Did you enjoy yourself?"

-- I did, actually...

The handlers continued to chat as they left Section E.

Part four

(In which the next victim of Upsilon is hinted at.)

Later, on a lonely island, cold computer systems worked together noiselessly. In the deep, dark depth of a virtual mind with no equal, new worlds were identified and analyzed. Everything in them was scrutinized and tagged inside its perfect memory. One of those data bundles was automatically marked as significant, after a series of calculations the likes of which no mortal has ever contemplated. A travelling prince, master of the staff and arena combat enthusiast went about his day, unaware of the callous mathematical eye evaluating his every feature and his social status, attempting to measure how pleasant a product he would make once trained.

A new priority message landed in one of the Upsilon Project mail servers. "Target found" glowed its title in hot red letters.

Path A.

Wisp doesn't resist her burning desire to 'play around' with her male coworkers. Wind learns what she has on him, since she uses it to coerce him into 'fun stuff'. Luther may get very, very pissed off at Wind. Next part starts with a scene of Wisp topping her new 'toys'. Wisp joins the regular cast for the story alongside the other two Section D handlers.

Path B.

Wisp resists the temptation to tip her hand, and keeps the security disk for which Wind is responsible hidden, for the time. Wind and Luther think themselves safe. Next part starts with a scene from the point of view of a client visiting Temple. Wisp remains a side character.