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Perhaps understandably, Mikey found it difficult to focus on his professors' lectures during the class day that followed.

With the events that transpired between him and Daniel only a few hours behind him, the mouse's head was a tempest of conflicting emotions and second thoughts. Now more level-headed in the clarity brought by daylight, the mouse realized just how much he'd let passion and desire take the wheel and dictate his actions that morning.

He had no business getting involved with the strong raccoon, even if he did believe the other boy's tale. Daniel himself seemed to believe. Yet, at the same time the jock effectively admitted to being mentally unwell due to years of physical, emotional, and psychological torture. So Mikey had to ask himself, should he really be basing his assessment of the situation based on what Daniel believed?

And yet, what was done was done. Mikey's gut knotted and twisted as he recalled what he committed to. Nothing short of complete mastery and ownership of another person. And his gut wasn't the only part of Mikey that remembered. Sitting in class with his fellow glassy-eyed students who dutifully jotted down notes, the mouse kept his bookbag resting atop his lap to obscure an erection so powerful it refused to shrink on its own.

Because regardless of how many second thoughts and doubts assailed Mikey, the primitive, primal truth of the situation was that the idea of owning Daniel thrilled him down to his core and then back up through his trembling, throbbing member.

Morals and ethics and social justice were all nice and abstract concepts. But what sat upon the side of the scales was concrete and tempting beyond words. A horny, handsome, sexy raccoon who had pledged to joyfully obey his every whim and command. Thinking of Daniel his arousal grew even harder, which given how erect it already was seemed like it should have been impossible.

Daniel, Daniel, Daniel... What was he to do with Daniel?

He had considered going to the police... But wouldn't that just be victimizing the older boy all over again? Especially with the raccoon's master already dead -- A fact that Mikey had to assume was true based on how firmly the raccoon believed this.

...Former master, Mikey corrected himself. As far as Daniel was concerned, he was the boy's current master. A notion that seemed entirely foreign. Inconceivable, even.

But if he couldn't go to the police or any other institution, where did that leave him?

Mikey blushed as the undeniable answer sprung unbidden in his mind. It left him with a very horny, eager-to-please raccoon jock. A self-professed highly trained sex toy.

The mouse's dick twitched under his backpack. It remembered the touch and feel of Daniel's puckered, silky-tight hole clenched around it. The raccoon shoving back against the rod until it gave up its white-hot seed. Pumping.. Breeding... Pulsing... Squirting!

"Pssst. Are you okay?" came a whispered voice just a few feet to Mikey's left.

The poor mouse nearly fell out of his seat, he was so unprepared for the sudden intrusion of the voice on his most private, salacious inner thoughts.

"W-what? Oh. Yes. I'm fine. Why?"

Mikey fought to get himself back under control as he turned his head to see who was talking to him. It was another student, of course. A big, buff tiger with beautifully patterned stripes.

"You're practically hyperventilating, dude. I was worried," the tiger said.

The mouse's blush returned. Then embarrassed as he realized just how close he'd come to jizzing his pants, humping his own book bag as he lost himself in his still-vivid memories of this morning.

Not that he could tell the tiger that.

"Just a minor panic attack," the mouse lied. "But I'm already feeling better. Thank you. I'm Mikey, by the way."

"Owen," the tiger said, extending his hand as way of greeting.

Mikey took the larger male's hand with an awkward smile and shook as he worked to get his breathing back under control.

Taking his hand back, the tiger flashed him a toothy smile and said, "It's just that, the last time I saw that expression on another boy's face, they were straddling my hips. If you know what I mean."

It took Mikey a moment to piece together what the other student was implying. Oh. Oh!

His blush deepened until even the tiger noticed, and chuckled into his hand.

"A blusher? Oh, I like you already. Hey, want to go grab a slushy? You look like you need something cold in you, to help you relax. Panic attacks are no joke, bro."

"Wait, now? Mid lecture?"

"Mid...? Dude, class has been over for like five minutes now. You really were zoned out, huh?"

Mikey looked around the large auditorium. Sure enough, it was now mostly empty as students continued to depart a few at a time, heading off to whatever came next in their varied schedules.

"Shit, I guess I really was. A slushy sounds good. Thanks. That's really thoughtful of you," the mouse said, standing up carefully as he stretched his legs. He was careful to keep his still quite active cock hidden as he moved.

"Or I'm just trying to get into your pants," the tiger countered.

Mikey froze at this, not sure how to respond.

"I'm kidding! Completely kidding. Mostly, totally kidding! Come on, I'll lead the way."

They joined the throng of students leaving through the primary exit, walking side by side. The freshman noted that they were heading to the outside food court, which worked well for him since that's where he most likely would have headed anyway now that he was on his scheduled break period.

"So," Owen said at some point as they made their way, "You're a freshman? I'm a sophomore myself."

"Aye, yeah," Mikey confirmed. "But... If you're a sophomore, why are you in a freshman class?"

The tiger shrugged.

"Maybe I like the easy classes, to pad my credit hours. Maybe I haven't decided what I want to major in yet. Or maybe I flunked the first time, because I was too distracted by all the pretty boys in the class."

This time Mikey laughed before retorting, "You're really leaning into this I'm-horny-and-I-know-it vibe you got going on, huh?"

Rather than seeming insulting, the tiger appeared proud of himself that he'd gotten a laugh out of the mouse.

"Guilty as charged! What can I say, my blood is warm and my body is virile. I'm a college boy in the prime of my life! Don't worry though -- I don't bite. Not without permission, anyway. And even then... Well, let's just say I prefer gentle nibling."

Now the freshman was certain. The tiger was definitely hitting on him.

And when they arrived at the slushy stand, Owen insisted on paying. MIkey realized that the smooth-talking, happy-go-lucky tiger had somehow managed to turn this into a date.

"So generous," Mikey said, his tone teasingly suspicious. "One might think you were trying to bribe them into your bed, Owen."

The sophomore raised his hands in the air, palms out as he spoke in his own defense.

"I'm the one who invited you to get slushies. It's only fair I put my money where my mouth is. But enough about my and my alleged raging labido, impressive as it might be. I'm far more curious to hear more about you."

"Me?" Mikey asked, between slurps at the cup's extra-wide straw. "I thought sophomore's weren't supposed to be interested in freshmen. Preferring to pretend they weren't completely clueless newbs just a year before."

"Well, just call me Mr. Open-minded. What's your major?"

"Chemistry with a focus on Forensic Science and Criminal Justice."

"Holy shit. Double major with a hardcore science? You must have a galactic-sized brain, huh?"

"Only if I pass my classes. Zoning out in class certainly doesn't help."

The tiger waved a hand, dismissively.

"Don't worry about it. My freshman year, my mind was all over the place and I still did okay. To be honest, I admit that my cock probably did most of my thinking last year. But you're obviously smart. You'll do fine."

That actually made the mouse feel a bit better.

"And you?" Mikey asked.

"I'm between majors, right now. But... I could be convinced to focus on some biology," the tiger said with a wink.

The freshman groaned and said, "...Does that line really work on people?"

The tiger flashed his most winning grin.

"I'll let you know in an hour. Here, follow me. I want to show you something."

Ten minutes and a treck to a secluded supply shed later, Mikey was on his knees mumbling happily around a mouthful of tiger cock.

Part of the mouse chided himself on being so easily won over. But his straining, needy erection was thrilled. Mikey stroked himself as he bobbed his head back and forth on the tiger's impressive pole. If the mouse was being honest with himself, he knew he was getting exactly what he wanted since his eyes took in the sight of the dashing tiger.

"God, you look so cute with my cock in your mouth, Mikey. That feels amazing. Suck me. Yeah, suck me good!"

Good must be synonymous with greedy in this case because that's how the mouse behaved as he went down on the sophomore. He wanted the older boy's taste in his mouth. Wanted his cock and his cum and his groans of forced pleasure.

Mikey might have been the one on his knees but despite this he was very much the one driving their encounter. He felt in control and the sensation very much reminded him of his encounter with Daniel that morning.

Owen, entirely unaware of the comparisons going through the mouse's head, focused on his own pleasure, as well as his appreciation to his most generous playmate.

"I haven't had my cock sucked this good since my highschool guidance counselor! How are you doing that with your tongue?! That's so... Grrrrr -- Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

The freshman swirled his tongue around the shuddering tiger's unit which caused Owen's claws to clench into the wood paneling behind him.

"How do I taste, Mikey? Do you like my big tiger cock in your mouth?"

Mikey moaned in response and used his firm grip on the other boy's sack to pull him in deeper.

"Fuck yeah, there's a good boy. Get that dick."

Things went on in this fashion for several more minutes until Owen's self restraint began to fray. And, unlike Daniel, the tiger didn't require permission to cum. And the sophomore didn't plan on asking.

"Are you a swallower, Mikey-boy? Because it's time to decide, if you haven't already."

The freshman hadn't really thought that far ahead but as his mouth began to fill with tiger cream he decided 'why not?' and gulped his classmate's plentiful climax.

At the same time, the mouse made a more modest sized mess on the ground between Owen's feet as he jerked himself to completion. For a time, no more words were spoken as the two boys grunted and moaned in shared pleasure.

Later, as the two were catching their breath and making sure they hadn't left any messes on their school clothes, Owen took the opportunity to continue to hit on the freshman who had caught his eye.

"So, uhhh, that was a good time. I really had fun."

But Mikey had already pegged the tiger as a bit of a player and wanted to make sure things were clear and out in the open.

"It was definitely fun. But I hope you don't think that a slushy and a blowjob means we're dating now."

"Ha!", Owen snorted, loving how fiesty the smaller freshman was. "No, no. Nothing like that. But, I would love to get your number. Who knows, you might be in the mood for a date sometime in the future. Or even just another hookup."

"I'm sure you would," Mikey replied. "I need to head off now, but you can grab it from me next time we're in class."

"Always leave 'em wanting more, huh? Typical overconfident freshman behavior!"

Mikey laughed, took out a narrow-tipped marker from his bag, and took Owen's hand.

"Uhhh, what are you doing?" the sophomore asked as the mouse began to write on his palm.

"Giving you my number, since it means so much to you."

"Oh. Neato. But, you know... By giving me your number, you're basically subscribing to a stream of dick pics, yeah?"

The freshman's eyes twinkled mischievously as he finished scribbling his phone number.

"I'm counting on it. And maybe if you get enough practice in to get good at it, you can major in photography."

Smiling at their little in-joke from earlier, the sophomore pressed on to question, "And how do I know this is your number and not the college Dean?"

Mikey, embracing the surge of confidence he'd been riding after since claiming and fucking Daniel, reached a petite hand down the front side of Owen's pants, grabbed the root of his cock, and firmly squeezed.

The tiger froze in place, clearly not expecting the assertive move. But just because he was surprised by the gesture didn't mean that he was unhappy with it.

"If I say I'm giving you my number, it's my number. Got it?"

Owen's knees felt weak as the mouse's hand simultaneously gripped and caressed the base of his dick. He looked down at the shorter boy and saw something in Mikey's eyes that made him grow rock hard in near record time. The mouse looked calm, confident, and in command.

"Whoa there, big guy! I hear ya, I got it!"

The smaller mouse smiled up at the suddenly uneasy tiger. Then the freshman began to stroke him.

"Uhhh, this is nice and all but... I'm not exactly sure what's going on here?"

"Don't mind me. I just like the idea of leaving you with a raging hardon and a needy pair of balls. So you're going to stand there, nice and polite, while I play with your dick for another minute or so."

Despite having just gotten off, Owen realized he would totally be down for another round with the mouse. Except, that's not what Mikey was offering to him. And even if he was...

"But...," the tiger stammered, realizing what time it must be. "There's not enough time for me to take care of it before my next class!"

"See? You're plenty smart too. You figured that out, all on your own. You're not giving yourself enough credit."

"I can't decide if this is super hot or incredibly cruel. Maybe both? I'm finding it hard to think with how good your hand feels."

"If the idea of being left horny worries you that much, you could always just give in, let loose, and cum right now."

For the tiger, that sounded delightfully kinky but deeply unpractical.

"Wait, you mean, just let it rip? Squirt right now? In my underwear, with your hand down my pants?"

"If you wanted to. Your call. Though, if you want to make a cummy mess, you better hurry. This handjob won't last too much longer."

Owen wasn't sure the choice really was his to make. It seemed like his joystick was calling the shots here and, slightly panicked, he realized he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer.

"Oh... Oh god, I think I'm going to... Oh, man I'm gonna--!"

"Too late," Mikey said, dropping the tiger's ultra-sensitive member and taking his hand back.

Owen stood there, dumbfounded. He didn't know whether to be pissed at Mikey or grateful that the little mouse hadn't just forced him to blast a massive load right in his own underwear.

"I'm off, handsome. Feel free to text me later. Just don't expect an immediate response, yeah? I might be busy later. Besides, it's not like we're dating, right?"

And with a wink, Mikey was gone. And Owen was left in the dimly lit supply shack, just him and his jeans-stretching hardon with a scant few minutes before his next class.

The tiger didn't know how to feel or what to think. But staring out through the crack of light coming through the door that had been left partially open, Owen eventually managed to find his voice.

"Fuck me, but I might be in love with that mouse."

===================================

The rest of the day's classes passed in a slow, unfocused blur as Mikey contemplated what awaited him back at his apartment.

When he arrived at the locked door to his on-campus home, the mouse took a long steadying breath, fiddled with his keys, and stepped inside.

Yet despite the countless scenarios he'd imagined might be waiting for him when he got back from his classes, what he saw inside had not occurred to him as a possibility.

Inside the well-lit compact kitchen area stood Daniel, the raccoon busy at work preparing dinner as he tended multiple pots and pans on the heated stove top. The jock hadn't noticed Mikey yet as he stood wearing only a single article of clothing -- a tight fitting jockstrap.

The mouse coughed politely to catch Daniel's attention.

"Sir! Welcome home," the raccoon said, his face suddenly lit up in an excited smile. And his face wasn't the only part of him that was expressing happiness. As the mouse waved hello in reply, Mikey couldn't help but notice that the older boy's jockstrap immediately began to tent out as his cock plumped and swelled in a hurry.

But growing hard right in front of his roommate, and now master, didn't seem to trouble Daniel. He made no attempt to hide himself as he split his focus between cooking and the mouse's arrival.

"Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes or so," the raccoon announced. "And if you're not hungry right away, it will stay nice and fresh for a few hours. Plus, if none of this seems appetizing, just let me know and I'm happy to prepare something else."

Mikey blushed, not at all used to being catered to like this.

"Oh, wow. Thanks," he said. "But you really didn't have to go through the trouble. I don't mind fending for myself."

Shaking his head as if to dispel his owner's concerns Daniel replied, "It's no trouble. I like being of service. Slaves aren't just for fucking, you know!"

It was clear that the raccoon intended that last bit as a funny quip, but the in-your-face reminder that the raccoon saw himself as literal property and a slave made Mikey's stomach twist into knots.

"S-slave... Right," the teenager said, this morning's bravado disappearing. "Daniel... I still don't know what I think about that. You sort of... ambushed me this morning. So... I'm trying to sort it all out in my head, still."

If Mikey thought that his confession of uncertainty would displease or distress his roommate, he was instead surprised when the raccoon only smiled and nodded.

"I know, sir," Daniel agreed. "I'm sure this is all very confusing and you're not sure what to make of it. But, I'd like to make it clear that I don't plan on suddenly transforming into some clingy lover or some crazed stalker. All I want for you is for you to be yourself. And if I can make your life a little bit better or easier -- say, by cooking dinner for you -- then I want to do that. For both of us."

Hearing that made the lithe lad feel a bit better, but he wasn't totally convinced they were on the same mental wavelength on the subject. Though, he wasn't sure yet if that was an actual problem or not.

"But...," the mouse said, pressing the point, "What if it ends up that I can't be your master? That I'm no good at it or if I can't properly... take care of you."

To his credit, rather than blurting out some half-considered answer, the jock stood and considered the question for a few moments before reply.

And when he spoke he said, "You being my master isn't based on some set of actions you take or some set of descriptors you have to live up to. You're my master because you're my master. I don't want to assume, but it seems like you're concerned that you won't live up to my expectations. But... Sir, if I may, might I recommend an alternate way of thinking of our relationship?"

Mikey gulped and nodded.

"This morning I saw how calm and in control you can be, when you let your inner confidence shine through. Remember how that felt and instead of asking yourself whether you're acting like a proper master should, ask yourself how I might be a better slave. Ask yourself how this horny, straight-boy slave could make your life easier. Or better. Or more enjoyable. Or even more interesting or exciting. And then command me, master."

Daniel's words were turning him on but irritating him for some reason. This alleged 'boy toy' was all but telling him what to do. The 'submissive' was instructing him to be assertive.

Mikey stepped forward, reached out and firmly grasped the older boy's jockstrap-shrouded sack, taking the tender orbs firmly into his strong grip.

"Is this what you want, Daniel? For me to take ownership of you? For me to turn you needy little boy bits into my personal property?"

The raccoon's face went slack in lewd pleasure as his eyes went unfocused and his cock began twitching and jumping within its jockstrap. When he spoke, his voice came out breathy, soft with need and desire.

"Oh yes sir. This is... Mmmmm," the boy paused to moan with pleasure, "This is exactly what I want."

But as much as his roommate's slutty response excited Mikey, it also pissed him off. The mouse squeezed harder, making the raccoon grunt in discomfort.

"This attitude is going to get you hurt, Daniel. Someone is going to take advantage of you. They're going to go too far. -- I -- might go too far. Do you understand this?"

Now the raccoon's expression was a combination of intense pleasure and severe discomfort. His jaw worked silently as he tried to work through the pain.

Forcing himself to speak, Daniel attempted to say, "Sir, my former master--"

"I don't give a warm shit about your former master," Mikey nearly shouted, cutting him off. "I'm talking to you, Daniel. And I'm asking you if you understand the danger you're placing yourself in. That you continue to place yourself in."

"Master..."

"I said call me sir," the mouse said, squeezing slighter harder. He knew he was causing the other boy real pain now, but Daniel had to be made to understand how crazy this was. That total surrender was no way to live a life.

"Yes, sir," the jock replied through gritted teeth, his knees wobbling as his legs threatened to go out on him.

But Daniel worked through the pain so that he could say his piece and make his point.

"I didn't choose you because you were dangerous. Or because I thought you were harmless. I chose you because, when you were surrounded by your fellow students as well as adults, you instinctively stepped up. You commanded everyone's attention. You spoke up and decided for the group. You're a natural born leader, Mikey. And I want to stand in your light. No... I need to stand in your light. Because for years, I've had to live in darkness."

Mikey didn't know what to say. Whatever answer he'd been expecting, that certainly hadn't been it.

"Sir... I hate to ruin the mood when you're so effectively dom'ing me, but maybe I should turn off the stoves before I burn our dinner? It will only take a moment. Then you can get back to putting my dirty, slut-balls in their place."

Mikey's nose twitched. He smelled the faintest scent of burned carbon in the air.

"Oh, shit. Yeah, quick. Move them to the empty burners."

Daniel hurried to comply, Mikey's hand never leaving his crotch, the boy's grip just as persistent as the raccoon's erection.

As the jock moved, the mouse considered his roommate's words. And, still not totally sure if this was the right call, he came to a decision.

"Daniel?" he asked, letting the boy's now tender sack go.

"Yes, sir?"

"Kneel."

The older boy hurried to comply, his heart excited but also full of anxiety.

"Let's clear this up now. Do you really want me to control your life? To decide what you do and when and how you do it?"

"Yes, sir. I do. I really do," Daniel answered, doing everything in his power to let his certainty shine through in his voice and kneeling posture.

"Do you really want me to control your sex and your sex life? To decide when and if and how often you cum?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

"Even if it means going long stretches without release? Day, weeks, or even longer, being teased and made to perform, but unable to make a cummy mess like you'll undoubtedly desperately wish to do?"

With complete certainty the raccoon replied, "Yes, sir. Even then, this is what I want."

"Are you sure you've truly considered the implications of total surrender? Do you understand that you might be ordered to sleep with or service other people. That you might be commanded to offer your body to strangers that you aren't attracted to or interested in? That everyone around you could be using you to get off, while those heavy balls of yours stay pent up and needy?"

Daniel paused here but only ever so briefly. When he was his former master's slave, he'd only had to serve one man. A man he lusted after. Who he worshiped, adored, and loved. Powerful feelings that had now transferred over to Mikey.

But, it was one thing to love and worship your master. It was quite another to use his body to worship some stranger. Still... This was what was required of a slave. And Daniel accepted that.

"Yes, sir. I understand. Truly, I do. My body is a toy, yours to command. Yours to enjoy to the fullest."

"Oh really?' Mikey asked, moving his foot forward to carefully step on the raccoon's bulging jockstrap. Daniel grunted in pleasure as the mouse ground his straining cock under the sole of his shoe. "Even if it was a man? Even if they were middle-aged and out of shape? Even if they wanted you to deepthroat them and call them 'Daddy'? Even then, you'd still surrender all agency and pleasure them?"

Daniel was firm in his conviction. Not to mention, firm in other places as well. The more he interacted with his new master, the more pleased the raccoon became with his choice.

"Yes, sir. Even then. I'd make him feel like a king. I'd use my body to give him the best orgasm he'd ever had. As many as he wanted, for as long as you commanded."

Catching the jock off guard, Mikey took the tip of his shoe and kicked Daniel right in the balls. Mercifully, the teenager didn't use an excessive amount of force but at the same time, that was no love tap.

"Don't get cocky, slave. Now we get to the real questions. Do you understand that I or someone else could fuck up and leave you castrated, maimed, dead, or even worse -- brain damaged?"

"I understand--"

Mikey kicked him right in the balls, even harder. Daniel cut off, feeling the urge to vomit rise up within him. He was definitely going to feel this later...

"I'm not done, toy. Do you understand that you have a choice here? That there is another path for you? A much saner, safer path? You could go back to your family. Or you could take your money and live in peace somewhere. Perhaps out of the country. You don't have to be property, Daniel. You don't have to be anyone's slave."

"This-- This is what I want, sir," the larger youth said, between gasps of air.

"Is it? Ask me to kick you again, slave."

By now, Daniel understood what this was. The mouse was going to put his conviction to the test. Mikey was going to put him through a trial he assumed no male could withstand.

But... for as wonderful and clever and intelligent as his new master was... It was the naïve teenager who didn't understand the situation.

Smiling internally as memories of the last man years came rushing back to him, Daniel had to express a moment of quiet gratitude to his former master. For the man had prepared him well for this moment. Very, very well indeed.

Even now, his former master's voice echoed in his mind, a ghost from the past.

'Daniel... My pretty Daniel. Perhaps this will be the day. The day you give in and beg me to castrate you. That would end the pain, yes? No more long nights, screaming for your master. Screaming for mercy. You should really consider it. You would be so much happier, without these sensitive little lumps of flesh causing you endless, untold distress. So, what do you say, my pretty Daniel? Is today the day?'

As it turned out, it was not the day. But not because Daniel didn't break. No, his former master was too dedicated and talented in the arts of breaking slave meat for the raccoon to avoid that fate. Down in the man's dungeon, complete surrender was an inevitability.

Rather, in the end the boy wasn't castrated because when he finally gave in and begged to be relieved of his 'useless boy bits', his master only laughed and shook his head.

Then he said, 'Aha. We've reached another important milestone, slave. Today is the day you've surrendered your most valuable possession to me. Your testicles. But, no. We won't be removing them. Not today. Not ever. How could I remove them, when they've proven so delightfully useful? Now, let's stretch your legs a little wider and really work them over, yes? These wonderfully sensitive nuggets which you've surrendered to me. Scream well for me, slave, but do pace yourself. We have a long, fun evening ahead of us.'

But Mikey didn't know any of this. Or any other details of what really transpired in that sound-proofed basement. And if Daniel had his way, his kind and loving master never would.

Spreading his thighs wider to grant his new master easier access, the raccoon looked up with determination in his eyes and said, "Please, sir. Kick your slave again. I beg you."

And Mikey did.

This cycle repeated twelve more times until the mouse was convinced that the other boy meant what he said.

"Please... sir... Kick your slave again... I beg you," grunted Daniel, forcing himself to stay upright despite the cascading pain radiating from his abused sack.

"No... That's enough, Daniel. I'm... I'm sorry I put you through that."

The jock shook his head, blinking back tears.

"Don't be, sir. I'm not. I'm glad because now you know. This isn't a game to me. I'm not roleplaying or playing some part. I'm a slave. Your slave. I'm a slave because... I have to be. But I'm your slave because I want to be. ...Do you understand sir?"

Mikey sighed, feeling terrible despite Daniel's forgiving words.

"Yeah... I do. I understand. How's your... How are your balls?"

"Sore, sir," Daniel answered, with a grim chuckle.

"I bet. ...Sorry again."

"If you wanted to make them feel better... You could kiss them, sir," the slave suggested.

"If I kissed them, I'd be tempted to nibble on them. And I bet you wouldn't enjoy that, would you, toy?"

"If it meant getting to feel your lips upon me, I'd happily accept the pain, sir!" Daniel retorted, voice eager despite sounding strained.

Shaking his head Mikey laughed, "You really are hopeless. Just put some ice on it. I'll finish dinner, okay?"

"Yes, sir," Daniel said, carefully working himself to his feet.

As he moved around the mouse in their compact kitchen, Mikey took in the sight of his handsome slave. Primal hunger rose within him.

"...And Daniel?"

"Yes, sir?" he answered, opening the freezer with a plastic baggy fetched and readied in his hand.

"I like you in a jockstrap. When it's just you and me, this is to be your uniform. And I want your jockstraps white and tight and clean."

"Yes, sir," the jock agreed, his cock still rock hard and throbbing despite the severe ball pain. And, to a lesser extent, because of the ball pain. A gift from his former master's ever-present conditioning.

Things were silent in the kitchen for a time as Mikey tended to the stove and Daniel likewise tended to his swollen sack. But eventually the silence was broken when the raccoon spoke up.

"Sir? Where would you like me to sleep tonight?"

"How do you mean?" Mikey asked, somewhat distracted as he tried to salvage their dinner.

"I mean, should I sleep in your room tonight? Perhaps on the floor, at the foot of your bed?"

"Err... Umm... Why? Wouldn't your own mattress be more comfortable?"

"In some ways, sure. But what if you get horny in the middle of the night and I wasn't there to take care of you? I would hate to miss out on the privilege of serving you because I was separated from you by a room and two doors. If I was there on the floor, you could just snap your fingers and... Well, I can guarantee that I'd take care of you nicely, sir."

Mikey blushed at the implications. He pointedly did not look the other boy's way as he felt his own member rise beneath his pants.

"Daniel, I just kicked your nuts into a swollen, sore mass and this is what you're thinking about?"

"What can I say? I've told you before -- You're a very cute and sexy mouse."

"And you're straight," Mikey countered, already anticipating what Daniel's likely response might be.

"Straight for everyone but you, master. But if you enjoy fucking straight boys, I can act as though I'm deeply conflicted, if you like. I can bite my lip and look over my shoulder with worry as you rub your cock up and down against my puckered, tight hole."

"Daniel?"

"Yes, sir," the slave replied, almost eagerly. He hoped that he'd pushed the right buttons so that his horny, teenage master might bend him over and fuck him right there in the kitchen.

Instead Mikey ordered, "Let's try having you be quiet for the rest of the evening. You don't need to talk to help me finish up in the kitchen. And then later... maybe... if you're extra good..."

The mouse didn't finish the sentence, but Daniel didn't need him to. He'd all but been promised special, intimate time alone with his master. Losing speaking privileges for a few hours was a trivial cost compared to the glory that would be servicing his master's sexual needs.

A slave didn't need to speak to suck their owner to completion. And a slave didn't need to speak to moan out their satisfaction as they were fucked against the living room couch.

And so, the rest of the evening passed by in relative silence as the roommates ate their dinner and watched television together. After dinner, Mikey changed into some more comfortable shorts and a fresh t-shirt while Daniel stayed exposed in his jockstrap. Not that the jock minded.

The raccoon had initially tried to sit on the floor so that his master would have the full size and convenience of the couch reserved for himself, but the mouse wasn't having it. He insisted that the other boy join him on the couch where they sat beside each other under a thin blanket.

Mikey, horny teenager that he was, took advantage of the blanket to surreptitiously lay an exploring hand on Daniel's jockstrap bulge. Which bulged out even further in response to this hidden, not-so-subtle touch.

Instructed not to speak, the raccoon sat there and pretended to continue to watch the television. But in truth, his full focus was on Mikey's fingers which rubbed and massaged his crotch with glacially slow caresses.

Daniel, for his part, at one point tried to sneak his hand over to return the favor, only to get a vicious squeeze to his already sore balls. The message was clear. This was Mikey's playtime, and he was to sit there and let his master enjoy himself.

And the slave had zero problems with that arrangement. Not only because his owner's hand felt heavenly upon his cloth-covered erection but also because the jock very much wanted his new master to grow more comfortable touching and using his property.

As they watched some moronic crime detective show, Mikey continued to play with his roommate, edging and teasing the other boy. Occasionally he'd slip a finger or two under the band of the jockstrap, touching the warm skin of the fully hard cock directly.

The raccoon could gasp and sigh and softly moan, but he could not speak or interfere with the teenager's under-the-covers manipulation of him. The straight jock loved it. He'd even been able to forget about his aching balls as he allowed himself to slip deep into the mindset of a living, breathing sex toy.

Unable to help himself, and likely as a result of his incredibly thorough mental conditioning, the raccoon silently encouraged the mouse in his head.

'Yes, master! That's so good. Touch me. Play with me. Make me your toy. Don't worry sir, that naughty thing won't cum without your permission. It's your personal slave-dildo and it's here for you to use it however you want, for as long as you want.'

And Mikey was certainly having fun. This was like experiencing multiple sexual fantasies, all at the same time. Daniel's delicious body was exposed, vulnerable, and fully available to him. Furthermore, the jock's cock was incapable of cumming without permission, guaranteeing that the teenager's fun wouldn't be spoiled by an inconvenient premature ejaculation.

The mouse's mind was a maelstrom of ideas on what he might do next. He let these fantasies play out in his head as his right hand gently but attentively wandered up and down his roommate's needy arousal.

Eyes twinkling with mischievousness Mikey asked, "Are you enjoying the show, Daniel?"

Being careful not to disobey the previously issued order which barred him from speaking, the raccoon nodded vigorously. Yes, he was very much enjoying the show. Though, he didn't necessarily think the mouse was referring to what was playing on the television.

The mouse smiled, happy that the taller male was having a good time.

"You know... You seem way more submissive when you're not allowed to speak. It's... sort of hot. So, I'm thinking of instituting some 'quiet hours'. A scheduled block of time each day during which you're not permitted to speak. Sort of a 'subby time'. Would you be okay with that, Daniel?"

As Mikey asked his question and explained his intent, the boy had slipped his hand down the front of the jockstrap and was now openly jacking off the jock. It was a fun if blatant attempt at manipulation and the mouse made no attempt to hide it.

Daniel certainly appreciated the energetic handjob but he hadn't needed to be convinced. His master liked the idea of him being a silent, submissive sub and so, so did he.

The raccoon leaned his head back, closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure to let his master know how good he was doing, and nodded. Yes, 'subby time' sounded like a perfectly swell idea to him.

"Good boy, Daniel. That's a very good boy," Mikey cooed as he began to tug the boy's jockstrap down and off, tossing it to the floor when the deed was done. "In fact, you've been such a good boy for me today, I think you've earned a nice, long blowjob. How's that sound? Does slave want a warm... wet... slow blowjob?"

The mouse said these last words with his moist breath coming in hot directly against Daniel's plump endowment, the boy's head already under the covers and his lips almost touching the tip of the jock's elongated pole.

Daniel eagerly nodded, though this served no purpose as his master could no longer see him.

With his owner leaned over in his lap, the raccoon wasn't sure what to do with his arms and so he opted to choose the default option of cupping his hands behind his head, which would conveniently keep his arms and hands out of his master's way.

"Oh, and Daniel?" Mikey asked, his tongue already synthetically extending as he sampled the taste of the slave's moist cock tip.

Unable to speak, the jock could only offer a heavy sigh and hope that it was accepted as a properly respectful response. In reality, it didn't matter because Mikey wasn't expecting an answer and, besides, couldn't hear him over the television playing in the background anyway.

"I still haven't decided on how to punish you for the stunt you pulled yesterday. But until I do, you're officially on cum-probation. I hope you enjoyed blowing your load down your own throat this morning, because it might be a week or two or three until your next squirt. I trust that won't be a problem?"

While not the most surprising news, this was still very difficult for the slave to hear. Here he was, about to get his first real blowjob in over half a decade, and he was being told that no matter how good it felt and no matter how much he desperately wanted to blow his load, it didn't matter because he was guaranteed to go to bed with a severe case of blue balls tonight.

Powerful arms held up in the air, clasped hands cupped behind his hand, Daniel again huffed out a breath of air in response. It was, perhaps, a less energetic response as compared to his last huff.

But again it didn't matter because Mikey wasn't listening. The teenager had already begun his hungry, greedy blowjob under the fictitious privacy offered by the thin blanket.

Two minutes of passionate sucking later, the slave already knew he was in trouble. Toes curling and fingers clenching from the sheer pleasure of his first blowjob from another man -- let alone his wonderful, glorious master -- Daniel's still-sore sack was already complaining about its inability to surrender to the siren call of nature and ejaculate its already-recharged payload in wet, copious ecstasy.

But Mikey showed no signs of stopping or even slowing down. And why would he? In highschool, he had always daydreamed about going down on all the sexy, straight jocks that strutted around in all their self-centered confidence. Or even the grouch of a coach that ran the football team. But those had been impossible dreams and he'd begrudgingly admitted that to himself at the time.

And yet, somehow fate had deigned to reward him for his patience. Here was Daniel, who had practically dropped into his lap from the heavens. And, in turn, the straight boy had offered up his nearly perfect body on a silver platter. His handsome face. His powerful physique. And his big, fat jock cock.

The raccoon wanted to offer himself up as a toy? Fine, Mikey decided. Then he was going to play with and enjoy his toy.

All. Evening. Long.

========================

Two hours later, Mikey's discarded and ignored phone buzzed quietly on the kitchen table.

As sounds of moaning and wet, self-indulgent sucking drifted in from the nearby living room, the phone's screen briefly flashed alight and read:

4 New Messages from Unknown Contact

Contents Include: 3 Picture Attachments