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"I've a couple of hours to spare, Zave," the raccoon's master said unexpectedly from behind him. How a badger with such a dominating presence could move so quietly he would never understand. "I'd like for you to entertain me with a game." Zave shivered as Laguna Crale's voice washed over him like a frigid wave.

Shit! A game? I don't have anything prepared for an extra session

Despite merely being a captive servant, Zave's natural creative flair had gotten him designated the Dungeon Master of the household's weekly Dungeons & Dragons sessions. It was a role that he not only thrived in, but actually looked forward to every week. Unlike his other duties, it wasn't physically arduous or demeaning for one of his polished background, and he got to feel like he was in charge of something again while he wove fantastic tales for his owner and fellow attendants to indulge in.

Each weekend's game took a ton of time invested in reading rulebooks and drawing up maps. The raccoon had assumed that he had at least five more days to draft up another chapter for their adventures. Well...he was clever and crafty and experienced. He could run a game off the cuff. It might not end up the most impressive of scenarios, but he could certainly make it happen.

He turned to see the suited badger's imposing frame. He exuded an air of quiet confidence..

"Right now, Sir?" Even after all of the time he spent as a varlet- what the EverTech Corporation called their nanite-infused service slaves- in the pink and white badger's employ, it still irked him to call someone 'Sir.' He'd grown up in the lap of luxury. Anthros used to go out of their way to suck up to him! How great his fall had been when his world of partying had come crashing down around him.

"I don't have much ready-"

"That's quite alright. In fact, I was thinking of being in charge of today's game," Crale cut him off.

That was a change. At least playing D&D sure beat cleaning the mansion. If Laguna wanted to do the heavy lifting, let him.

"Should I tell the others to get their dice and meet in the gameroom?"

"Just you and I in my office, actually. And the game will use cards, not dice."

Zave looked at him curiously, but didn't vocally question the fur who owned and controlled him.

Laguna issued a smug smirk in response; arms crossed and impish eyes sparkling with mischief. There was an uncomfortable pause while the mustelid let him fret over what was to come.

"I was thinking blackjack," he stated at long last, "but I'd rather deal than play. I heard you were quite the card player before you came into my employ. At least that's what your father told me."

Barely into his twenties, Zave had already won and lost fortunes befitting royalty in his short life. When money had been an unending resource to the ousted scion of EverTech's founder, he always needed to up his gambles to feel that spark of risk, much to his family's dismay and the tabloid paparazzi's joy. He hungered to hear the shuffling of cards and clacking of chips again. To feel the thrill of the future riding on the next turn of the card. He masked his eagerness behind a faltering stoicism.

"Stakes?" Gambling was only fun if it meant something.

"I've thought long and hard about that," Laguna answered, beckoning his property to follow as he strolled out of the room. "I think you will find what I've come up with quite adequate."

"Freedom?" Zave asked sarcastically. He always toed the line when it came to the flamboyantly colored mustelid, something that had gotten him punished on more than one occasion.

"In a sense." Laguna chuckled.

He paused and spun on his heel to once again face his varlet. He held forth a clawed fingertip and let it glide down the raccoon's naked abdomen, barely grazing his fur and making him tremble. He started at the plush chest fluff just below the hollow of his throat and continued down his lithe torso, ending the motion just above Zave's groin. The servant was naked at all times (as were all the varlets) even in public spaces, which had taken some getting used to. Naked, that is, save for the steel chastity cage encasing his sheath and the pink collar around his throat with a tag emblazoned with Crale's personal emblem: A Black Rose.

The unyielding steel bars of the cage had enveloped his maleness for all of the months he had spent at the manor. He got a brief reprieve every fourth Saturday of the month, and the days between crawled slowly by. Combined with the sexual services he often provided his owner, he was so horny he was surprised that he wasn't constantly leaking a stream of pre onto the carpet. Zave couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed an orgasm fully and completely, and without an audience. Even the blandest, most unsatisfying ejaculation would be worth fighting for.

The badger's neurolink technology allowed him to release the lock on the device at any time with a touch and a thought if he so desired. Thus far, he hadn't.

The pair started walking again and their way through the estate until they arrived at the CFO's home office. In an open space among the fine furniture and hardwood, a casino quality blackjack table had been erected. There was an array of several dozen gambling chips in stacks in front of the dealer.

"Take a seat."

The raccoon picked a stool at the center of the table. Laguna stripped off his suit jacket to reveal that he was already wearing a dealer's vest. He took his place standing behind the table and cut a handsome image while he adjusted his spectacles.

"Before me are 120 chips. Each represents a single minute. You may cash out your chips whenever you would like, provided we aren't in the middle of a hand, of course. When that happens I will have my way with you for however many minutes worth of chips I have remaining. And then I will unlock you for however many minutes worth of chips you have. If you win all of the chips, you don't have to suffer through any of my desires, and if you lose all of your chips then you won't be getting that cage off anytime soon. Because I am a kind and considerate master I will start you off with five chips."

He slid a small stack of dense, plastic coins in front of the raccoon. Their glossy pink and white striped surfaces matched Laguna's coat perfectly. Zave's tail twitched and swished as he stared at the tokens. It was a habit that often gave away an indignation that he tried his best to hide. Until the last year or so, he had never had to mask his emotions.

"I own you," the badger commented with a sly grin, watching his tail undulate. "I could do as I please for the next two hours without offering you a thing in return. I may find this game entertaining, and be fascinated at what risks you think are worth what rewards, but it is entirely to your benefit that we are playing."

Okay. Fair. Frustrating, but fair.

Laguna rattled off the table rules. Surprisingly, they were as favorable to the player as possible. Zave had played in enough casinos around the world to know that. The raccoon was a machine when it came to calculating odds on the fly- another trait that helped him excel when running tabletop RPGs. He was at first excited about his chances, but then immediately suspicious. He looked to his boss, who merely smiled knowingly in response. The badger was unnervingly skillful at reading other furs.

"There is no catch," he said, as if reading his varlet's mind.

Zave trepidatiously slid a single chip into the betting circle.

"I expected a bolder opening from you," Laguna said, shuffling the deck. His paws ruffled the cards with adept precision. He flourished with a few advanced techniques, making a fluttering arc of cards in the air that neatly landed on his other palm. Then he dealt the first hand. 19 was showing for Zave, while his dealer's face up card was a six. Excellent! He stood as his master was forced to bust on the turn of the next card from the deck. The raccoon relaxed, marginally, as he collected his winnings. His puffed up ego fell almost immediately. He had earned himself a single, measly chip. He would need to bet bigger if he was going to avoid the worst of his owner's proclivities.

Still, his confidence built with his successful opening gamble. Zave bet half his chips while the badger scooped up the cards to reshuffle. Zave rolled one of his three spare chips back and forth over his agile fingers.

"That's more like the Zave I know."

The next hand came down. Again, it was in the servant's favor. The pink mustelid's had a mediocre four face up. Zave stood again. Laguna went through the motions and while he didn't go bust, his eventual 18 was no match for the raccoon's 20.

"Well done!" The EverTech CFO congratulated as he dropped three more tokens in front of his varlet, one at a time. Three more minutes of freedom. Each clacked satisfyingly as it landed. "I'm parched. I think it is time for a drink."

Second nature at that point, Zave rose to find something to quench his master's thirst, but the badger held up a paw to make him pause.

"We are playing a game. One of the other varlets can attend to us," he explained nonchalantly.

"...Us?" What was his owner's angle?

As Laguna shuffled, he continued adding in extra card tricks until he was practically a street magician. With barely a thought, the wealthy mustelid was able to summon a servant via a mental ping through his control of the nanites in their body. Callahan, a river otter who, like Zave, was clad in only a pink collar and stainless steel chastity cage encasing his sheath scurried into the room while the badger dealt another hand. He had a silver tray balanced on one paw. Atop it were various bottles of water and juice along a small bucket of ice and tongs. The remaining items needed for bartending were assembled along a classy bar on one side of the office, complete with various glasses and expensive imported wines and fine liquors.

The otter masked his suspicion and curiosity over the scene before him well.

Laguna ordered a drink for himself, then pointedly glanced at Zave to do the same. Alcohol was a rare treat for varlets, who were usually kept fully alert and in their senses. A wiser raccoon might have managed to simply reach for a bottle of sparkling water, but there was something about gaming at a table with something on the line- something about actually being waited on for the first time in ages- that Zave wanted to fully experience. He wanted to feel he was living the high life again, like when he was a playboy failson of an illustrious family. He ordered a strong drink.

Callahan poured their master's Cabernet Sauvignon first, then went to work mixing the raccoon's cocktail. Zave fingered the brilliant crystal glass, dipped a finger into the liquid within and licked it off his claw. Its smooth burn was heaven as it went down. He plucked a liquor soaked cherry from the snack tray that the otter silently provided next, before retreating to the side of the room in case he was needed further.

The game continued. Zave generally won more than he lost, with more than his fair share of split aces and blackjacks. His pile of chips grew from a scant nine minutes to the better part of an hour. His confidence built with each victory, and so did the size of his bets. He savored his drinks, endeavoring to make the most of his momentary treatment. He ordered cocktail after cocktail, and soon had a pleasant buzz going.The raccoon had completely lost track of everything around him. The chips started to lose their meaning. While consciously he was eager for the release from his metal prison for a while, he was also reveling in the moment. When he closed his eyes he could almost hear the cheers of the furs at the craps tables and the spin of the slot machines.

He was a true gambler. And Lady Luck had been on his side.

He had a small mountain of chips stacked in the betting area when an 11 showed for him and a 6 was again showing for the dealer. Zave did quick math in his head. He had gotten into a pattern of betting half of his fortune at a time while riding high on a winning streak. Doubling down would cost him all of his remaining chips, but victory would put him a hair's breadth from a full two hours without a chastity cage on, not to mention not being Laguna's plaything to torment for a bit. He would get a real orgasm instead of the unsatisfying, dribbling vestiges of ejaculate he managed to milk out by fingering his prostate while knuckle deep in his own tailhole late at night. He leered over to his mustelid master. The pink badger's expression had remained the same passive smile the entire way the game. His slate blue eyes continued to twinkle with a casual confidence in his victory, despite being bound by the rules of the game as the dealer.

Zave motioned to double down without even consciously making a decision to do so and felt a rush of adrenaline seize his chest in its exhilarating embrace. He almost wondered if Laguna had used his control over the nanites the raccoon's body and forced the action upon him. But he hadn't. He didn't need to. The excitement of the game and the tease of freedom were enough of a pull. He wouldn't have anyway: the technology was only a single tool in Crale's arsenal, but Zave found it wasn't the kind of submission that the badger desired of his varlets.

The gambler shoved his remaining stacks of chips into the center of the table, heart pounding like thunder in his ears. Laguna drew a card and flicked it toward the raccoon. It spun in a blur across the table before landing smoothly next to his other cards. Zave's jaw, heart, and stomach fell in unison at the three taunting him. He teetered on the edge of panic.

He can still bust! He reminded himself frantically.

Laguna flipped his face down card over. A five to join his six.

"Dealer draws-" he slipped a card from the stack and held it to his face, almost touching his snoot as he eyeballed the ink upon it. The raccoon was balanced on the edge of his seat, bushy tail curled up against his back and bristling with nerves. He dropped the card atop his others. "A 10. 21. You lose, Zave." He scooped the stack of chips toward himself. "Now I just need to decide how to spend my two hours playing with you."

The ring-tailed anthro slumped. He had carefully accumulated an hour's freedom to pleasure himself as he saw fit, and instead he had blown the entirety of it on what he thought was a sure gambit. He lamented not quitting while he was ahead. Laguna nodded to Callahan who quickly topped off his drink, and saw himself out. The double doors clunked together heavily as they closed behind him. The badger loosened his fuschia tie and folded up his sleeves nearly to the elbows before opening the doors and drawers on a large, ornate cabinet. It was brimming with neatly arranged implements for BDSM. Paddles, whips, flogs, crops, bondage gear, dildos, buttplugs, beads, rope, chains, and more were all neatly organized and stored within the wardrobe. Laguna placed his paws on his hips as he considered his options. After a short deliberation, he chose a small collection of tools.

He returned to the blackjack table and motioned for his varlet to stand. Zave rose anxiously as he looked at the bundle of gear his owner was setting out on the table. The striped anthro swept his arm across the tabletop that they had been playing on, scattering chips everywhere. He directed the raccoon to bend at the waist over the table. He attached a metal ring clip to Zave's pink collar and connected it to a small fastener on the edge of the dealer's side of the table. He could use the nanites suffusing his servant's body to hold him captive in the same pose, but the pink mustelid preferred to use traditional forms of bondage. That way he was able to fully enjoy every flinch and yelp and fidget his slaves made, completely unfettered by technology.

Zave's tail unconsciously curled down between his thighs. Once again it gave away his nerves. Anyone who knew the monochromatic fur well could tell his emotions at a glance. He had been working on curbing the habit since taking up residence in Crale manor, but in times of stress it was still a patently obvious tell. His master chuckled, seemingly amused by his tension. With his cheek against the table he had a close up view of the paddle that Laguna had selected to be used upon him in the immediate future. He felt his tail be yanked sharply upward, revealing his pucker and the back of his fuzzy sac.

Laguna clipped a pink cuff around his tail and, with a slender length of silver chain, attached it to his collar, locking it upright against his back. The badger tapped the insides of Zave's ankles with his foot-paw. The raccoon immediately followed the nonverbal command and splayed his legs wide. He pressed his palms to the table. Crale grabbed a fistfull of the raccoon's ass and groped along his inner thigh with his other paw. He slowly made his way up to the captive anthro's cleft until he prodded teasingly at Zave's entrance.

"Time to play another game, Zave," Laguna leaned forward and hissed in his ear, voice husky. His breath on the raccoon's nape and cheek made the slave's body come alive. The mustelid straightened and reached for the deck of cards, then shuffled it well. "We are going to draw 21 cards from this deck. For every red card you pull, you will be spanked on the ass for the value of the card. For every black card, a paddle to the balls the same number of times. Kings, queens, and jacks will be no strokes- lucky you. And because we both like games, I'll give you a chance to 'double down' on each draw. The second card you draw won't count toward the 21 needed to end the game unless it is a face card. And if it is a face card, you won't be paddled for the card you did it on. If it isn't a face card, we will do both sets. Understand the rules, pet?"

Zave gulped and nodded as best he could with the bondage. "Yes, Sir."

"Magnificent," Laguna crooned, massaging the impressive bulge in his trousers after setting the deck down near his varlet's paw. "Why don't you draw your first card?"

The raccoon lifted his paw and slid the top card from the deck. He tentatively flipped it over.

"What did you draw, pet?"

"The five of hearts, Sir."

The badger reached for the handle of the fluted, cherrywood paddle. He adjusted his grip, paw flexing menacingly along the handle, and leered at his helpless property. He didn't even bother giving the weapon a few practice swings. Laguna was well acquainted with its weight, and both of them were intimately familiar with its stinging bite (albeit from separate ends).

"That's five blows to the rump. Not a bad warm up," Master Crale said. He dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "Unless you'd like to take a chance and double down, that is...?"

His gut told him it was a tempting offer. It was the opportunity to avoid any harm at all. But he quickly surmised that three-quarters of the remaining deck was only going to make matters worse. Five spanks of a paddle, while painful, were well within the realm of tolerable. He would rather risk everything when his balls were on the block.

"No, Sir," he responded, fighting to keep his voice from going shaky with nerves. It would be hoarse from his howling in pain soon enough.

Laguna reeled back and rotated his shoulder. He held the paddle high. The light from behind it made it cast a shadow over the raccoon's face.

"Count the strokes for me, Zave. Miscounting makes me start over, I'm afraid."

Without further warning the first strike landed. Pain blossomed like a blast of fire across his hindquarters. He sucked in air through his teeth and squirmed as he half-shouted out, "One!" A few more blows landed in rapid succession. Zave felt the smarting of the wood on his flesh and winced with each, barely managing to keep up with counting as each stroke landed. Laguna playfully teased and tried to fake him out and upset his count by purposely pulling the last spank a split second from the raccoon's backside, but the intensity of the pain hadn't yet clouded the varlet's judgment enough to trip him up. The badger sniggered approvingly and did the final lash for real.

"Another card," he ordered casually.

Paw trembling, Zave drew another. He revealed it to be the king of clubs. If he had taken the gamble, he would have been spared those five spanks. He tried to remind himself that he had made the right decision by playing the odds, but the stately lion monarch printed on the card seemed to taunt him.

"It's your lucky day. Another."

The next card that he turned onto the pile was the nine of spades. Zave fidgeted. He felt his sac tighten against the ring that held his chastity cage in place. What were his odds "doubling down" now? Only one face had been pulled from the deck, but two number cards...the buzz of the lingering pain made it so much harder to run the numbers quickly in his head.

"Tick-tock," his owner prompted. "If you fail to decide whether or not to double down, I will make the decision for you."

Zave scrunched his face and quickly forced himself to pull another card. He didn't care about the odds. The raccoon only wanted to avoid his nuts getting cracked the better part of a dozen times. Nervously he peeked at the card and dropped it on the green felt tabletop. The three of diamonds. He stifled his groan as best he could. He had just earned himself another three lashes to his ass without gaining anything in return. That three could have been the next card and added toward his 21 draw limit!

"Which should I start with? Or would you rather I alternate, three to the balls then one right on your ass a few times?" Laguna asked rhetorically. He slowly lifted the paddle until Zave's sensitive orbs rested upon it. He angled his paddle back and forth, rolling the raccoon's testicles this way and that within his sac. Then, abruptly, he bounced the paddle against them, harsh enough to make an audible thwack!

The imprisoned anthro howled in pain. It was a heavy swat that sent a twist of pain up deep into his gut. This would not be the first nor the last time he would suffer through sore, swollen balls for his master's pleasure. He understood the nightmare before him. They'd be aching for days after this. The raccoon gasped out "One!" before whimpering and feeling his legs shake beneath him. Laguna chuckled at his suffering. Zave felt his sheath throb against its bindings. When the raccoon got his monthly release, he would surely remember this moment; being dominated by the stately mustelid. On a primal level he loved the submission, but in the moment he felt dread mix strangely with arousal. His heart hammered in his chest. His abdomen tightened, fearful of the next strike.

The badger laid in quickly, barely giving the varlet time to count as he yelped and whined. Laguna bounced the paddle back and forth between the servant's scrotum and his inner thigh several times in rapid succession, then returned to his rump. He focused on one cheek, then the other, then back to the first, with a combination of powerful forward and backhand swings as if he were playing tennis. Hot pain radiated from the slave's ass. His ears folded back and tears streamed down the sides of his muzzle.

The game had only just started.

His quivering paw drew another card. The eight of hearts. He grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes, drawing a second card, hoping to be able to sit down again at some point within the week without wincing. Instead, fate laughed at him as he revealed the seven of hearts to join it. His body slackened, defeated already so early on. Laguna's chest already heaved, whether from exertion or exhilaration, or some combination of the two it wasn't quite clear.

"15!? I didn't expect such a thorough workout today," he laughed. He unbuttoned and removed his vest, tie, and shirt. A sleeveless, white undershirt hugged the contours of his body. He unbuckled his belt and slipped it free of his trousers before grabbing the paddle once more. "I should have stretched first."

Laguna placed a paw on the small Zave's back between his tail and his spine, and made a show of steadying himself and lining up his strike like he was preparing to drive a golf ball, including wiggling his hips. The assault was fierce and left his servant crying out in pain after each and every lash. The smack of the paddle reverberated through the air while the raccoon verbally acknowledged each connection. The echos merged into an erotic cacophany of pain. The badger had worked up a sweat. Perspiration glistened in his pink and white pelt, and just slightly dampened the upper chest of his undershirt. His aroused musk hung heavy in the air.

The chastity cage squeezed ever more tightly around Zave's plump maleness.

The next card was the queen of diamonds.

"You have been timing these double downs terribly. If you had just waited one more turn you could have gotten away with half the number of spanks." Crale sniffed the air and grinned cruelly. He had scented Zave's piqued arousal. "Seems like I am not the only one feeling...entertained today. Maybe that means we should skip your next scheduled release?"

The embarrassed raccoon scrambled for the next card. Not long ago he felt high on reliving being a dominant, confident playboy. Now he was swelling, or rather failing to due to the blasted cage, on being a true submissive following his master's every whim. Even if it left his testicles tender, and his backside sore.

The next card was a six of spades. Zave elected to not risk making his nuts any more hurt than they were going to be. He barely bit back a groan. The merciless strikes landed with a harsh, resonant slap! Each swept up from beneath and squashed his testicles against the steel of his cage.The raccoon struggled to not let his legs give out as the nauseous flood of pain wracked his body. He moaned and weakly blurted out each number as the swats struck home. He could feel his pulse in his sac, pain flaring with each throb of his heart. At the end his balls once again rested on the flare of the paddle. He felt they must have doubled in size from the abuse. Milky pre dribbled down from his tip, over the bars of his cage and his sac, and oozed out onto the paddle.

"We aren't even halfway done and I'm already beating the cum out of you? I supposed that means I should start this now," Crale huffed. He set down his paddle and fondled his captive servant's ass, fingering at his aperture. With his other paw he undid the fly of his slacks and let this fall to the floor in a heap before stepping out of them and kicking them aside. He posed in only his socks, undershirt ,and underwear- designer, low rise black briefs with white elastic that made him appear suitably dashing and fashionable. The taut fabric of his pouch revealed the badger's prominent bulge and outlined every minute detail of his hefty balls and ample sheath.

He removed his last articles of clothing until every stitch was upon the floor. The crimson tip of his erection was already peeking out from his respectable sheath. It leaked rivulets of pre, wetting streaks into the snowy fur encasing it, all of the way down to the pink tuft of fuzz going back underneath his scrotum. His date-sized orbs hung loosely in his sac. The badger massaged his maleness slowly, easing his growing erection from his furry prison. Soon his hardness had reached its full length. A knot of flesh formed at the base of his cock, straining against the opening of his sheath. Laguna eased a fingertip into the tight heat separating his sheath and his penis, and slowly worked it around the slick, sensitive flesh in a steady circle. His cock twitched with pleasure and ejected jets of pre. He sighed with satisfaction as he worked the fleshy knob until it popped free.

The sexy badger's physique was lit from behind and in profile from where the raccoon stayed tethered, making a dusky silhouette as he fondled himself in anticipation of breeding his property. Zave had been mounted by his owner more times than he could count during his tenure at the mansion. Sometimes Laguna was erotically slow, other times, he opted for a savage rutting. The mustelid was purely interested in maximizing his own pleasure in the moment, with an aloof disregard for his playthings. That sort of danger and cruelty was intoxicating to the raccoon. It got to the point where he hated himself for craving being pounded by his employer. Even then, ass stinging and balls bruised, he wanted the badger to hilt him. To fuck him on his knot.

Zave knew it would end like all of the other times, with him being filled with badger spunk and brought to the brink of climax by the shaft grinding along his prostate. But then being ultimately unable to reach that elusive orgasm due to the damned device secured around his genitals. He would go to bed that night and bite and hump a pillow while fingering his leaking hole afterward, whining, whimpering, and moaning without achieving release.

The badger unleashed a throaty huff as he stepped behind his prone servant. Laguna's phallus pressed into the varlet's thigh, marking him with pre. The raccoon never got used to the humiliation when others, be they fellow servants or the CFO's associates, smelled the sex on him and knew he had been used like a toy. Laguna slicked his fingers with a drizzle of lube, and greased his digits well.

When had he grabbed that? The badger always seemed to have secret stashes of sex paraphernalia within arm's reach around. He surrounded himself with the tools to indulge his desires on a whim while in any room of the house, as well as his various offices and apartments.

Crale's oiled paw found the indentured raccoon's hole. The wet press of a finger circling his entrance sent a tremor up Zave's spine. A single digit slipped inside of him and twisted to the hilt in one smooth motion. Zave gasped and involuntarily flexed his ring tight around the invading member. Laguna swiftly found the sweet spot inside of him and beckoned against it. Zave's breath hitched and a whimper caught in his throat. The bliss thrust him so close to the edge of ecstasy, but the rush of orgasm would never arrive. Already the pressure started to recede as Laguna withdrew his finger in order to add another.

The two fingers wriggled their way inside, one wrapped around the other. Zave groaned through the stretching and realized he was unconsciously raising his hips and pressing back into the badger's ministrations. The fingers separated and scissored apart, skillfully stretching his entrance this way and that. The procyonid panted raggedly. Laguna pulled his paw away in order to lube his shaft. The wet, rhythmic slap of paw on flesh filled the room. The noise stopped when the badger lined himself up with his varlet's prepared hole. He thrust his hips forward and his spade-shaped tip pried Zave open again. He shunted a full half of his rod inside the raccoon before stopping. His cock pulsed inside the grip of his servant's ass.

Laguna rumbled a pleased growl as the body beneath him trembled with pleasure and wanton longing. He pulled back a few inches and pressed forward again, longer and more forcefully than before. He just barely didn't completely bury himself into his slave's heat. All that was left exposed was his knot. It throbbed, eagerly awaiting the grasp of a tailhole around it. While not as sizable as a dog or wolf's knot, it was big enough to give many submissives pause yet sleek enough that he would be able to pound it in and out of a ready hole. Zave groaned as it butted up against his opening. The chain attaching his collar to the table rattled as he squeezed around the hardness again and again.

Laguna gripped his varlet's hips tightly. His claws dug into the raccoon's pelt around his pelvis. He ground his hips forward and up, forcing Zave's ass to accommodate his girth. He didn't relent, reveling in the mewling whines of his once proud servant. Finally, it pushed in, and both quaked in unison. The rod was rigid and blazing within him. Zave moaned and dribbled a constant strand of pre. Crale gave him no time to adjust and just and unceremoniously pulled out until just his tip remained enveloped within the raccoon's rump.

He drove back in, humping and thrusting with wild abandon, spearing his servant on his cock. The badger's powerful haunches slammed into him, his sac bouncing off of Zave's battered orbs, making him wince in agony. They were lost in the haze of sex for several minutes as Laguna used him roughly. Soon it was evident that the mustelid was approaching orgasm. His bucking grew more fierce. His breathing erratic. He leaned dominantly over his property and snarled as he shook and came, flooding Zave's ass with a splatter of seed. He came in gooey ropes. It was enough that spunk oozed out around his knot as it pumped into the raccoon.

Once the badger caught his breath and composed himself, he jerked himself out of Zave's abused ring and milked the last remnants of his cum out to wipe on the servant's paddled hindquarters. He dressed casually, even carefully retying his trademark pink tie, before unclipping Zave from the table. The raccoon stretched as he stood, legs shaking from holding position with his master's weight above him for so long. Semen oozed down his thigh, leaking from the offering that Laguna left in him.

"Is there anything else you need, Sir?" He asked.

"I don't believe our game was finished, pet. You still have more cards to draw," he reached for the paddle and smacked it against his palm. "And if you've lost count, I daresay, we might have to start all over again."