Vulpine Reformatory School

Chapter 8

Mister Bartholomew

S.M. Wolf

Mister Walter, Mister Bartholomew, Miss Autumn, Miss Arianwyn, Miss Eira, the Disciplinarian, and this story are copyrighted 2023 by S.M. Wolf. This story may not be reproduced in part or in whole without prior, written permission of the author. Any resemblance to anyone, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

My remaining candidate students arrived in my quarters around 3 PM. Mister Walter and Miss Eira took their seats without a word and began to study. Idly, I wondered if they had made some time for sex before returning to my quarters. As aroused as I was, it was not hard to believe and start to fantasize a bit about it. I certainly was looking forward to some voyeuristic times with them and the others.

Mister Bartholomew was a couple of minutes late. I frowned at him but said nothing. He seemed quite nervous as he took his seat. I attributed his agitation to what would happen to him that night. There was more than a bit of a reason to fear what would happen at my paws, not to mention what his friends might do to him.

I finished my duties and put away my work. With nothing else specific that needed to be accomplished, I took out a book and stretched out on the couch. Soon I was deep into the plot and largely oblivious to the rest of the world.

"Bartie, no!" I heard Miss Arianwyn hiss.

I flicked a glance at my foxes. I was surprised to see Mister Bartholomew close his book and stand up.

"I don't care!" he said surprisingly loudly. "I can't take it anymore!"

To my surprise, he walked over to me and started undressing. There were looks of horror on the faces of the four other foxes.

I feigned continuing to read, but the real focus of my attention was the fox-coyote hybrid dog beside me. When he was done stripping, he turned around, spread his legs wide, and bent over. He flicked his tail up and waited. I was treated to a pleasant view of his dangling ball sack and pink tail hole mere inches from my muzzle.

Without looking up from my book, I quietly asked, "Mister Bartholomew, are you intending to impale your anus upon my muzzle?"

"Please, Sir," he implored. "I can't take the waiting any longer."

"Mister Bartholomew." I said sotto voice, "if I acknowledge your presence, I will indeed begin my fun now, if for no other reason than to punish you for your actions. I may well be harder and certainly will be longer than what I did to your friends.

"Is that really what you want, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Please, Sir, he said again. "The waiting is killing me."

"The pain that I inflict may well be worse than the waiting," I pointed out quietly.

He said nothing, but I heard a muffled sob from him.

I sighed inwardly. I was horny as hell and would quite happily have taken up Mister Bartholomew's offer most days, but I also desired to keep with my general plans. Still, my dog was indeed suffering from the fear of the unknown.

I turned my head to look at my dog's ass. I rubbed my muzzle as I stared at his pink anal rose. Mister Bartholomew obviously had problems with waiting for play and probably punishments. What better way to punish him than continuing to delay what I had planned for him? I ticked off some interesting possibilities in my mind to play with his mind further and teach him to try to dictate to me.

I snapped the book shut. All five foxes jumped as the crack of the closing book reverberated through the room.

"Mister Bartholomew, your actions are unacceptable," I said sternly. "It seems that I must make an example of you.

"Front of the class! Inspection!" I said crisply.

Mister Bartholomew jumped up and practically ran to the area in front of the student desks. He spread his feet uncomfortably wide and placed his paws on top of his head with his fingers intertwined. As the position name implied, his entire body was open to inspection or other things.

I looked him up and down. He was a nice male specimen with a lean, well-toned body. His testicles hanging between his legs were good sized. I was mildly surprised to see his erect pink penis jutting from his sheath. His knot was already well-formed. For a dog facing an uncertain immediate future that certainly would involve large amounts of pain, he was certainly unusually aroused.

I contemplated his body from afar for several minutes. While he might want the punishment I was going to give him and perhaps would even enjoy the pain, I wanted to stretch out his waiting. I did nothing until he was nervously shifting from foot to foot.

I stood and walked over to my foxes. The other four stared up at me.

"Did I say that you could stop? Back to studying!" I snapped at them.

With great reluctance, they buried their muzzles in their books. It was clear that they had great concern for Mister Bartholomew.

I proceeded to the Punishment Room. The school had anticipated that I would have both dogs and vixens to enjoy when they provided the basics. That meant that I had a variety of CBT devices. I went through a couple of cabinets before finding what I wanted.

When I returned to my students, I noted that the four clothed ones seemed worried, but Mister Bartholomew was quite calm. The anxiety of not knowing what was to happen to him was indeed worse than the actual punishment he was certain to endure for his impertinence.

I removed my robes and set them aside temporarily. I knelt in front of Mister Bartholomew and proceeded to place the cock-and-balls torture harness I had selected upon him.

A leather strap wrapped around the base of his penis and was secured with a metal buckle. A second strap, connected to the first by a dorsal strap, went around his penis between his knot and sheath. I tightened both sufficiently to ensure that they were snug but not tight enough to cut into his flesh or cut off healthy blood flow. I wanted to play with my dog, not emasculate him after all.

A wider strap wrapped around the top of Mister Bartholomew's scrotum and served to pull his balls down and tighten the skin encasing them. I ignored his small whimper of fear as I knew that this would only be a mild punishment for any male in the Vulpine Reformatory School. I was certain that both Mister Bartholomew and Mister Walter would endure worse punishments should they choose to stay. I grinned at the thought. Mister Bartholomew drew a sharp breath of fear.

I got an open-muzzle grin when he whimpered much louder when I gently pulled his testicles apart and ran the final strap between them. I buckled the strap to the front of the strap encircling his scrotum.

I moved Mister Bartholomew's balls and shaft back and forth to inspect my handiwork. The straps were tight enough to hold his genitals in a firm grip but not tight enough to do any harm. They did stretch his ball sack and present his testicles very nicely. I grinned at the sight and tarried for a few moments before standing.

"Take your seat and resume studying, Mister Bartholomew," I said as I donned my robes.

"Sir?" he asked in obvious confusion. He had expected something much different.

"I said to resume studying Mister Bartholomew," I said curtly.

He seemed crestfallen as he took his seat again. He gave a little yip and a look of shock appeared on his face as he felt the straps grab him when he sat. The position of his testicles had to be unpleasant as well. I smiled and returned to my book. My attention was more on my foxes, though. Except for Mister Bartholomew, they seemed relieved and got back to work.

On the other paw, Mister Bartholomew had a hard time concentrating. He squirmed increasingly in his seat. Soon the smell of his arousal reached me. I just grinned broader and broader as time passed with Mister Bartholomew undergoing a slow sexual torture. I allowed his arousal and anticipation to crest before I made my move.

I closed my book again and stood. I was grinning broadly as I walked over to Mister Bartholomew. He made a show of bending over and burying his muzzle deep in his textbook, but I could tell he was watching me intently. More to the point, I could see the precum puddle between his legs. He saw the direction of my gaze and promptly closed his thighs. The pained look on his face as his thighs squeezed his tight testicles was priceless.

"What subject are you studying, Mister Bartholomew?" I asked.

"History, Sir!"

I reached down and gently took his textbook from his paws. I noted that it was upside-down. When I turned it over, it was obvious that it was his math book.

"A very strange history text," I commented drily.

"Mister Bartholomew, it is obvious that you are incapable of studying. Stand behind your chair, bend forward, and place your paws on the seat of your chair."

With trepidation, he did as ordered. It was clear that he expected a severe punishment, and his current position provided me ample access to everything from his ass to his tail hole to his cock and balls. He kept casting nervous glances at me as I went to my desk and opened a drawer.

I rummaged around noisily for dramatic effect and selected a large red silicone butt plug and a jar of Vaseline. I placed them on Mister Bartholomew's desk with the butt plug directly beneath his muzzle. He was not the only student to stare at them. Were they beginning to suspect that I enjoyed an anal fetish among many others? I did not care. I made no secret of my desires. All five would be walking strangely some days if they stayed.

"Spread those legs wider, Mister Bartholomew," I instructed my dog.

Mister Bartholomew opened his legs. His hips sank until his belly lay across the top of the back of his chair. He licked his lips nervously as he waited. Still, he raised his tail high without being told to do so. His well-spread ass cheeks framed his ass hole nicely. The harness around his cock and balls also showed them off in a most delicious manner. There was a small drip of precum coming from his knob. He appeared ready for whatever I wanted to do to him. Moreover, he wanted what he thought I would do to him, at least physically.

After enjoying the view some, I opened the jar and applied a large dollop to Mister Bartholomew's tail hole. He turned his head to look back at me as I applied the lubricant to his anal rose.

"Muzzle and eyes forward!" I said sternly. For emphasis, I gave his ass a hard open-pawed slap with my free paw. It made him jump nicely.

I continued to play with my dog. I lightly ran my finger around the rim of his anus. I poked a bit at his central pucker. I took time to add more petroleum jelly. I even stopped a couple of times. I was rewarded with increasing whimpers of frustration and even fear as I delayed the inevitable. I did note that the drips of precum became a steady drizzle as his body responded to my teasing.

After several minutes, I was finally ready. I was very tempted to stand and take Mister Bartholomew from behind with a zipper fuck, but I wanted to wait until the evening to enter his bottom. Reluctantly, I put aside those thoughts and kept to my original plan.

Without warning I rammed my middle finger as deep into his rectum as I could force it. I was rewarded with several high-pitched yips. I ignored them and proceeded to coat the interior walls of his rectum and anus with the Vaseline. He rose on his toes trying to escape my probing digit, but I refused to relent. I continued to wriggle my finger around inside his hot rear even after he was very well lubricated. I did notice that the tone of his vocalizations had changed subtly, and he was glancing down at the hefty butt plug with something other than horror.

I continued to play inside his bottom for several minutes. I had to be careful not to hit his prostate by accident. I was sure that would send him over the edge, and I wanted to deny him an orgasm until later. I was still able to create a nice puddle beneath his jumping hips.

Satisfied for now, I withdrew my finger. After wiping off my hand, I returned to the couch. Instead of pretending to read, I sat there openly staring at Mister Bartholomew's ass. I smiled at the sight of his pink rose surrounded by Vaseline-matted fur. His spread thighs framed his stretched testicles nicely. I almost chuckled as I caught his head dipping several times to look at the butt plug that stood upon his desk. It was not hard to guess his thoughts.

Fifteen minutes before we were to go to the Dining Hall, I stood and said, "Mister Walter. Misses Autumn, Eira and Arianwyn. Close up your books. Take them to your rooms and store them. Prepare for dinner and be back here in ten minutes. Mister Bartholomew, take your books to your room, wash your paws, and then resume your current position to wait.

"Class dismissed."

The other four foxes went to their rooms to clean up, but Mister Bartholomew looked at the butt plug and me in confusion without moving. It was clear that he expected to be wearing the plug to dinner. I lifted an eyebrow. He stood and wobbled back to his room with his legs spread wide and hips swaying tantalizingly.

When all five foxes were gone, I covered my muzzle and laughed. I never planned to fill Mister Bartholomew's behind with the plug, but the thought that I would keep him guessing. I still had the option of doing so before dinner, which must add to his apprehensions. It would teach him to deny me my fun by trying to set the tone and timing of our play. It was also a good way to play upon his anticipation fears. Perhaps he would learn a valuable lesson about waiting today.

I briefly went to my quarters to take care of my needs. I strongly considered pawing off, but decided against it. I wanted to have my release in Mister Bartholomew's bottom, not the sink or a towel.

When I returned, Mister Bartholomew was already in position. I walked close behind him, openly enjoying the sight of his naked body again. He had to feel the whisper of wind as I walked by, but he remained quiet, even when I briefly ran my paw over his naked ass.

I waited for my other foxes by the door. They soon were lined up in front of me. I saw them looking back at Mister Bartholomew and the butt plug.

"Mister Bartholomew, join us," I said as I turned my attention to Mister Walter's clothing.

Mister Bartholomew took his place at the end of the line, still quite naked. I am certain that he expected me to walk him through the school nude except for his CBT harness. It was common for both dogs and vixens to be so shamed. The CBT harness would just add to his humiliation.

I smiled. It would indeed be nice to show off my dog to the entire school, but I had no intention of doing so yet. That would be for another day, and it might not even be a punishment.

"Mister Bartholomew, if you can dress acceptably and get back here in two minutes, you may wear your clothes to dinner." I told him without looking at him. "If not, you will not be wearing anything until Monday morning.

"Now get going!"

Mister Bartholomew sprinted to his room. I was surprised that he could move so fast with the leather straps encircling his genitals. He did have an interesting gait, though.

I chuckled once he was gone.

"Before you go to the trouble of messing up your clothing to delay me, Mister Bartholomew will return in time, unless he is grossly late."

"Thank you, Sir." Miss Arianwyn whispered.

"Oh, do not be so quick to thank me, Miss Arianwyn," I said with a large smile. "His ass is still very much mine, not yours, tonight.

"And walking around with that harness on under his pants should prove to be... challenging."

All four foxes grinned in anticipation. They certainly did appear to enjoy these games as well when they were not on the receiving end of my dubious attentions.

Mister Bartholomew was only a few seconds late, so it was easy to ignore his tardiness. His clothing was even in good order, so I did not have to fault him much.

At dinner, I made it a point to shove most of my meat onto Mister Bartholomew's plate. That brought some curious looks from the other tables, but my foxes just grinned. They knew why I was doing it.

"Gotta get your protein," Miss Eira said with a broad smile.

"Um, yes," Mister Bartholomew grumbled. He knew exactly what she meant. Still, he ate all the food without complaint.

When dinner was over, we returned to my quarters. I lined up the foxes facing me just inside the doorway.

"Everyone but Mister Bartholomew has twenty minutes to shower and prepare for tonight. When you are done, assemble in the Punishment Room. I expect to find you naked and lined up facing me when I enter from my quarter.

"Mister Bartholomew, you are to undress, take care of your needs, and present yourself in the Punishment Room. You may not shower. You shall be in front of your friends facing them with your paws crossed at the wrists behind you, head down and tail up. I want your legs well spread and your balls dangling.

"Dismissed!"

My foxes dispersed hurriedly. Twenty minutes would be barely enough time for them to shower and prepare. I smiled at Mister Bartholomew as his tail had extra sway as he ran to his room. I wondered how much that CBT harness was exciting him. From the smell of his arousal, which I had not wanted him to wash away, the answer appeared to be "Much". As I returned the unused butt plug to the desk, I again mused at how much the anticipation of sex and even pain excited my potential students. I certainly was looking forward to four years with them if they made the decision to stay.

I sighed. I really was already thinking of them as mine when they still had an important decision to make tomorrow. I had little doubt of what their answer would be, but I should not anticipate their responses. It could lead to disappointment and even resentment. With Mister Bartholomew experiencing tonight what I would do to all five at times, they might well have second thoughts.

Unlike my students, I was under no constraints for time, so I took a leisurely hot shower, dried and changed into some more casual jeans. I did not bother with underpants or a shirt. They would not be needed tonight. I took some extra time to comb my fur to make Mister Bartholomew wait even longer. I figured by the end of the night he would have either learned his lesson about waiting or developed a desire to play this game. Either way, it benefited me. I also wanted to teach the others that we played by my rules on my time, not theirs.

When I arrived in the Punishment room, all five of my vulpine students were there. The four observers were lined up behind Mister Bartholomew. I noted several appreciative looks at his balls from not only the vixens but my other dog. All four appeared eager to have at him if they got the opportunity.

Mister Bartholomew stood alone in the center of the Punishment Room. As I had instructed, his head was down, his tail was raised, and his wrists were crossed behind him. I was surprised at how wide-open his legs were. Even given his larger size, a spread of three feet had to hurt. The depressed look on his muzzle was priceless. It was clear that he was more than a little scared as well. His actions had again put him in the doghouse with me, so to speak. There was little telling what I would do, and now the time of reckoning, delayed by me to raise his discomfort, was upon him.

I stood behind Mister Bartholomew facing my other foxes. My paws came up and began to stroke his back.

"You were rather foolish, Mister Bartholomew," I whispered into his left ear. "I was perfectly prepared to let your friends decide your fate this evening and then spend some quality time with my cock up your ass. I am sure that they would have found something that you enjoyed, while I was planning to be gentle with you tonight."

To emphasize my point, I let my paws drift lower until they found his flanks.

In a stern voice I said, "But you could not wait, and now your ass-"

I grabbed his butt cheeks hard. I let my nails dig into his flesh. Mister Bartholomew jumped and yipped in surprise and pain.

"-is mine!"

My dog whimpered in fear. The anxious look on his face brought a broad smile to my muzzle. I was enjoying his consternation.

My paws released their grip and started stroking his fur again.

"Fortunately for you," I whispered to him, "I still intend to follow my original plans. However, your friends will have no say in what I choose to do and will only be allowed to select the instruments I use."

I turned my attention to the other four foxes. They looked at me expectantly. I frowned in thought for a moment as I decide the role for each.

"Miss Autumn," I said, "I need four cuffs for Mister Bartholomew's wrists and ankles. They will need at least one ring to secure him."

"Yes, Sir!" the red fox vixen said with a large smile as she darted off to get what I wanted.

There were coils of rope beneath the bondage table. I picked up three and placed them on the table in preparation. I also took out a small memory foam wedge and placed it in the middle of the table. A notch in the thick end had a groove that would prevent Mister Bartholomew from laying on his tail. I saw Mister Bartholomew's eyes following my actions. I just gave a small smile and said nothing. My desire for him to suffer additional anticipation worries remained strong.

Miss Autumn returned with four black leather cuffs lined with faux black fur. I secured them to Mister Bartholomew's wrists and ankles as he stood there. I enjoyed my proximity to his harnessed testicles and shaft while I placed the cuffs on his ankles, I had to avoid drippage, though.

"Anticipating a good night, Mister Bartholomew?" I asked while pointedly looking directly at his erection.

"No, Sir," he replied sullenly.

I laughed at the tone of his voice.

I stood and said, "Too bad! I certainly am.

"Up onto the bondage table, Mister Bartholomew!"

My dog lay down on the table. He positioned himself on the foam wedge and ran his tail between his legs. The other foxes gathered close to watch what I would do.

I used one rope to secure Mister Bartholomew's wrist cuffs together. I ran the free end of the rope to one of the numerous rings on the end of the table and tied it off. He was held with his arms stretched above his head. I doubled up a second rope and slipped the loop through his right ankle cuff ring. The ends went through the loop and were attached to a ring in the side of the table. I did the same with his other leg. When I was done, he was securely tied down on the table with his legs spread wide. There was now nothing he could do to stop me from abusing him as I desired except to curl up his tail.

I sat beside Mister Bartholomew on the table. Reluctantly, he looked at me.

I smiled down at him and lightheartedly asked, "What to do with you, Mister Bartholomew? What to do...?"

I ran the tip of my claws up and down his sides. I was rewarded with him jumping and trying to avoid my light touch.

"Ticklish, Mister Bartholomew?" I asked unnecessarily as he writhed.

Unable to lie, Mister Bartholomew replied through gritted teeth, "Yes, Sir!"

My smile broadened. I paused several minutes to tickle him. He tried his best but could not stop himself from laughing even as he sought desperately to avoid my touch. It was easy to see why ancient tortures included something seemingly innocuous as tickling.

His laughter and pleas for me to stop echoed off the walls. I just grinned and continued my fun. I tried as much of his body as I could reach. I was not sure if his foot pads or sides were more sensitive. I went back and forth several times without reaching a conclusion. I could see making a definitive determination using much research as a future endeavor.

I finally relented and stopped but still had many thoughts swirling around my brain. Perhaps a feather to his cock and balls...? It might be devastating, if he had on a harness like the one he was currently wearing. Maybe his half-brother was also ticklish? If so, I could enjoy tickle games with both.

I shook my head. Time for other fun.

My fingers moved onto his chest and found his nipples. While much smaller than the vixens' nipples and not as easily seen or exposed to my wandering eyes, they still were hard little nubs beneath his chest fur. They indicated a status of high arousal.

"Mister Walter, has Mister Bartholomew ever received nipple torture to your knowledge?" I asked while staring into Mister Bartholomew's eyes.

Mister Walter beamed and replied, "Yes, Sir!"

Mister Bartholomew groaned.

"Your choice of instrument, Mister Walter, but no weights or extreme clamping force."

Mister Walter ran to the storage cabinets.

"Miss Eira, bring me a suitable warming compound for Mister Bartholomew's nipples as well. Make sure it is strong but not hurtful. I want to reserve his pain for other things tonight."

"Yes, Sir!" she said with relish. My masochist vixen appeared to have a sadistic streak as well. Perhaps she enjoyed the torment of others to find new things for me to do to her? It was hard to tell, but in the final four years of their incarceration, there were very few restraints placed upon what teachers could do. As I watched her skip to the cabinet with ointments, I could not help but think she may well come home with some fun new things to try based upon the punishments of others.

I laughed at Mister Bartholomew's groan of despair as he realized the extent to which his nipples would soon be uncomfortable.

Mister Walter returned with a pair of large nipple clamps joined by a thin steel chain. The stainless steel tips were coated in latex and had large nubs on the interior surfaces. The jaws were opened and closed by a screw-mechanism. They were made to grasp a nipple and not let go. I could clamp quite hard, but the mechanism allowed me to be as gentle or harsh as I desired.

I took the clamps from Mister Walter. He and the vixens leaned onto the bondage table to eagerly watch what I would do to Mister Bartholomew. Their eyes were bright. I could see their open grins and quickened breathing. I could smell each foxes unique scent of sexual arousal as well. They were ready to enjoy some voyeuristic pleasure at Mister Bartholomew's expense and see what I might do to them as well.

I lay the chain across Mister Bartholomew's sternum. He raised his head to watch. There was a look of apprehension on his face, but he remained silent as he stared at me opening the clamp for his right nipple.

I brushed aside his chest fur with my left paw.

"We might have to shave you and Mister Walter," I commented as I found it difficult to get his nipple completely exposed. That brought a yip from Mister Walter but grins from the vixens. Mister Bartholomew said and did nothing as he stared at the clamp about to be applied to his body.

I placed the tips on either side of Mister Bartholomew's right nipple. Mister Walter had chosen well. The clamp tips were similar in size to Mister Bartholomew's nipple. They would grip it completely.

I continued my theme of drawing out Mister Bartholomew's torment by tightening the clamp with many small turns of the screw. Once the tips made contact, I steadily tightened them until the width of his little nub was reduced by half. I gave a small pull, and the clamp remained securely in position. Satisfied that I had applied enough pressure to prevent it from slipping, I repeated the process with his left nipple. Mister Bartholomew was silent, but his breathing did quicken.

I held out my right paw. Miss Eira placed a small applicator bottle in it. I glanced at the label. It was a modest warming agent that would not cause Mister Bartholomew any problems but should give him a strong sensory boost in his nipples. I opened the bottle and used the brush in the cap to thoroughly coat Mister Bartholomew's bare flesh with the clear fluid. His squeezed nipples glistened under the bright lights of the Punishment Room.

Mister Bartholomew hissed as the warming agents took hold. I could smell ginger and hot peppers among other things. I allowed the heat to build for several minutes while watching Mister Bartholomew's reactions to the sensations coming from his chest. It was clear that he was feeling considerable discomfort but did not appear to be in any real distress. His nipples turned a nice reddish-pink as they filled with additional blood. I am sure that the extra blood flow caused the pressure to increase as well.

I smiled. It was a good start to his play, but I had other plans for Mister Bartholomew tonight. A stray thought crossed my mind. I turned and stared at his erect shaft. The fluid would be far more effective on his extremely sensitive penile flesh. I heard a small whimper from my bound dog. There was nothing he could do to stop me from emptying the entire bottle onto his genitals.

I had absolutely no intention of doing so, of course, but placing the idea in his mind and letting it worry him was part of my overall plans for the evening.

Miss Arianwyn," I said.

The silver-phase vixen jumped. Her attention had been totally upon Mister Bartholomew.

"Yes, Sir?"

"You are to get me two items. First, I want a long, narrow anal probe, preferably with a strong vibrator. Second, I want an anal prostate stimulator."

She laughed at the yip of horror from Mister Bartholomew. There was a wide-open-muzzle grin on her face as she went to find what I wanted.

"Bring back some Vaseline, too, Miss Arianwyn!" I yelled after her.

"Yes, Sir!" she called back over her shoulder.

I think that she had scoped out all the anal-related items in the past as she had little trouble finding all three elements that I desired and returning in less than a minute.

"Grease Mister Bartholomew's ass hole, Miss Arianwyn," I told her.

If possible, her grin grew even wider, and she cheerfully replied "Yes, Sir!"

I had already deduced these two were partners if not yet mates. The vixen seemed to enjoy returning the attention he paid her tail hole.

Mister Bartholomew groaned, but there was nothing he could do about it. I did note that a smile played across his muzzle as she thrust her fingers into the jar of lubricant, and he did not resist as she applied copious amounts of petroleum jelly to his anus. He sighed in bliss as she slid her index finger into his rectum and used it to coat his interior.

I did not know nor care if Mister Bartholomew needed additional lubrication. I wanted to see how he and Miss Arianwyn played together in a situation like this. I could see using one to play or punish the other. Miss Arianwyn seemed to enjoy playing with her hybrid companion and had no reservations about following my orders.

"He's all ready for you, Sir!"

"Thank you, Miss Arianwyn."

I took up the probe first. It was a series of four increasingly large ellipsoids strung together end-to-end. It had some nice bumps that Mister Bartholomew was sure to feel going in and coming out. The sound of the vibrator filled the room as I turned it on full. It was strong enough to shake in my paw.

I smiled as I looked down at the helpless dog.

I positioned myself near Mister Bartholomew's right hip. I reached down with my left paw and gently moved his scrotum out of the way so that I had unobstructed access to his ass hole. The other foxes got a lot closer to watch what was about to happen.

I touched the tip of the probe to the center of Mister Bartholomew's pink anal rose. He yipped and curled his tail up. My paw disappeared beneath his long tail fur.

"Miss Arianwyn, please hold down Mister Bartholomew's tail."

The black-pelted vixen murred contentedly as she grabbed the fox-coyote dog's long tail. She knelt between his knees and pressed it down on the table with her paws. I noted casually that this gave both Mister Bartholomew and me a magnificent view of her tits and pussy while allowing her a close-up view of his punishment. She wagged her tail back and forth slowly in anticipation of his coming hardship.

I also noticed that the tip of his curled tail could reach her already damp snatch. Was that coincidence or planning? I did not particularly care. Either way, it could provide a nice sideshow.

I returned to probing Mister Bartholomew. He gritted his teeth as I slowly inserted the small tip of the probe into his rectum and angled it to press against his front wall. Normally, I would have considered his reactions as being overly dramatic, but I could feel the shaking of his balls in my left paw. This was one strong vibrator!

I inched deeper into Mister Bartholomew's bottom, pausing repeatedly to let the vibrator do its worst, which probably was pleasurable for Mister Bartholomew. When I had inserted about four inches of the probe inside his bottom, Mister Bartholomew gave a long series of yips and jumped in his bonds. A huge wad of jism burst from his erection, arched over his belly and spattered his face.

"I gather I have found your prostate, Mister Bartholomew," I observed drolly.

He stared back at me with a wild-eyed look. I smiled back at him.

"Let's double check that," I said as I looked him in the face. I rotated my wrist and pressed the vibrating tip of the probe back against his wall. I was rewarded with even more yelps followed by a large white gob of sperm landing on his upper chest. This time I kept the pressure on until Mister Bartholomew finished his second climax.

I withdrew and set aside the vibrator. I replaced it with the prostate stimulator. It was a six-inch long curved shaft that ended as a nubbed ball. The other end had a large, well-shaped handle for me to grip firmly and apply pressure. Pressing the ball against Mister Bartholomew's P-spot would result in much stimulation or, in this case, overstimulation as I intended to keep at it for a long time.

I could see in Mister Bartholomew's eyes as he watched me coat the probe that he knew what I planned to do. I just smirked at him. He was my play toy tonight, and we both knew it.

I set aside the Vaseline. Mister Bartholomew watched as I lowered the probe to his tail hole and inserted it. He gave a bit of a grunt as the knob went in but mostly remained quiet and still. I could feel his body tense as I slipped the probe deeper into his behind and closer to his sensitive prostate gland.

"Now where was that prostate..." I mused as I started to gently rub his front rectal wall.

I deliberately avoided his prostate for some time to build up his anticipation. I wanted to draw out his discomfort as he waited for the inescapable to continue his punishment. I was rewarded with a huge yowl when I rang his P-spot again. His back arched as he tried to avoid the pressure of the probe, but I followed his body up until he had nowhere to go and then pressed against his prostate with increasing pressure until he orgasmed. More sperm erupted from his cock and landed on his chest fur. I was impressed with his ability to shoot his wad so far consistently. I was sure that the other foxes would appreciate it as well when I had him mount them.

I released the pressure, and Mister Bartholomew lowered his body back onto the bondage table. I very lightly rubbed the knob against his inner walls.

"Rest for a moment, Mister Bartholomew. I want you ready for the next one," I commanded

My dog groaned at the thought of more punishment play and forced orgasms. His reaction elicited a laugh from the other foxes. They were clearly looking forward to watching the show he would provide tonight.

I used the probe on Mister Bartholomew for well over a half hour, Every time I pressed upwards, his back would arch, and then he would writhe as the nubs applied their delicious pressure. He would convulse, and another white gob would land on his chest and belly. I was surprised by his endurance. He was far from finished when I ceased. Some of his last shots were as powerful as his first ones, and all of them had good volume. Pairing him as the dominant with another of the foxes could make a very entertaining show. Perhaps Mister Walter, on the spanking bench, with a tie and a pawjob...?

I grinned. So many possibilities. So few years.

I forced the entire length of the probe into Mister Bartholomew's butt and left it sitting there as I stood.

"The rest of you may retire for the night," I told them. "Since tomorrow is Sunday, you may rise and have breakfast whenever you wish. However, I expect the Punishment Room to be spotless and you to be waiting for me in the main room at ten. We will discuss your futures at that time."

I could see the nervous swallows and furtive glances between my foxes. I offered no additional thoughts on my plans. Letting them wonder and worry for a while served my purposes. For tonight, I wanted Mister Bartholomew waiting in anticipation of what would come tomorrow. It fit in nicely with my play with him today.

"Dismissed!"

I saw looks of both sympathy and sly glee from the other foxes as they left. I also noted that Mister Walter was the center of attention of the three vixens. I smiled and wondered if he would have a long night ahead of him pleasuring the femfurs or if he would be blue balled.

I gave a snort. It could go either way with this group! Still, it might be interesting bending the three vixens over their desks and watching Mister Walter have at them sometime soon.

I was certainly having some interesting thoughts for the future, and these foxes were not even my students yet.

When the others were gone, I turned my attention back to Mister Bartholomew. I sat down atop the bondage table cross-legged beside his right flank.

"Enjoying yourself, Mister Bartholomew?" I inquired.

"No, Sir." he replied in a sullen tone.

"Really? I am surprised."

"Why?" he spat at me.

"Mister Bartholomew, you might be able to fool the others, but I was the fur grasping the other end of this probe." I said as I wrapped my fingers around the handle again. He stared down the length of his cum-covered belly and licked his lips.

"I know what you were doing."

I barely pressed the nubbed ball against his prostate and waited. A few moments passed before his hips started to twitch. I could see him fighting himself, but soon he gave into the pleasure and started rubbing his prostate against the nubs to stimulate himself to another orgasm.

Mister Bartholomew lay there panting. He glared at me in anger.

"Mister Bartholomew, can we stop this stupidity?" I asked. "You liked what I did to you, so much so that after the first time all I had to do was touch your prostate to get you going. You were doing all the real work. All I did was hold the handle and enjoy."

"No, Sir!" he exclaimed with some fear. I am sure that such things had been used against him in the past. I had no intentions of doing so, but I was going to make a point about trying to hide things from me.

I held the handle steady but applied no pressure to the inner wall of Mister Bartholomew's rectum.

"Mister Bartholomew, I am going to silently count to sixty. If you remain still, I will concede that I am wrong."

I stared at his face. I did not bother counting. I knew how this would end.

The fox-coyote hybrid male could not meet my eyes. Instead, he looked about the Punishment Room seeking something to distract him from the intruder in his ass. As the seconds passed, he started to lick his lips. It was clear that he wanted to pleasure himself, but he also did not want to admit that I was correct. The conflict was delightful to watch.

It did not go on long. Soon he was whimpering and pleading me with his eyes to stop, but I did not relent. With a sharp bark, he gave into his carnal desires and started to hump the probe hard enough that I could barely hold onto it

In only a few seconds he climaxed hard. I was surprised when his wad of jism went over his head and spattered his upper arms. At this point, I thought he would be unable to do more than emit a small drizzle of cum from his knob. I was both impressed and appreciative of his potential.

I released the probe. Mister Bartholomew quieted. He turned his face away in shame or perhaps fear. I reached down and cupped his left cheek. I turned his face back towards me.

I gently stroked his ruff. Quietly, I said, "You obviously enjoyed the physical aspects of this, and I am happy that you did."

"Happy?" he asked in obvious confusion.

"Yes, Mister Bartholomew. Happy," I assured him. "This was play. You are supposed to enjoy play. If it were punishment, you would know it. Just ask Mister Walter."

He gave a small snort at the memory of his half-brother being beaten for his actions. It was plain that I could be very cruel when I wanted, and there would be no question when a punishment was being administered.

"Not that you have not earned a punishment or two tonight." I chided him.

"Sir?" he said in shock.

"First, you challenged my status by forcing me to start playtime before I wanted to. Second, you have been sparse with proper respect when addressing me."

Mister Bartholomew groaned.

"Are you going to beat me, Sir?" he asked in a small voice.

I leaned in over him and looked him in the face.

"No, Mister Bartholomew. I am not."

I think I confused him more.

"Mister Bartholomew, I will allow your actions to slide this once. Continue them in the future, regardless if you are or are not my student, and I will blister your ass as often as needed to end them. For now, though, all I want to do is play with you.

"Sing for me, Mister Bartholomew," I said as I pressed the probe lightly against his prostate again. He yipped and started to vigorously rub against the anal intruder. My left paw wrapped around his shaft. He thrust uncontrollably into my paw. His cries of pleasure echoed In the chamber. The combination of the pawjob and the prostate stimulation soon had him spurting more jism onto his belly fur.

I played with my dog more. Sometimes I let him mount the probe. Other times I stroked him to orgasm while he lay writhing on the table. Other times I pressed him down with my left paw while using my right to ram the probe in and out of his anus until he screamed and climaxed again. I was almost merciless in my administration of pleasure, but his eyes and cries told me how much he was enjoying the physical pleasure. Every time I cocked an eyebrow to see if he was done, he would shake his head no, though he seemed unable to speak. I did break twice to give him much needed water and a short respite before returning to our fun.

I only stopped when my fox-coyote hybrid was reduced to whimpers. He continued to hump the probe, even as I removed it. I left it on the table for the other foxes to clean and stood. Glancing at the clock, I saw that Mister Bartholomew had been on the bondage table for almost two hours. I grinned. He certainly had good potential and much stamina!

I undid the bonds holding Mister Bartholomew down. He tried to stand, but instead nearly collapsed. I had to hold him to steady him.

"I'll be alright," he muttered.

"I am sure you will be, Mister Bartholomew. In fact, I am counting on it for the rest of the evening," I said as I lifted him in my arms and carried him to my bathroom. For such a large dog, he was far lighter than I had thought he would be.

I mentally made a note to ensure that all five of my future students received regular weighing and ensure that they got more food. I could at least give them treats for good behavior. I smiled at the thought of what could constitute "good behavior" from five de facto young adult sex slaves. I only wanted them passing out from the pleasure or pain, not hunger.

I placed Mister Bartholomew in the tub and drew a hot bath. I stripped and knelt to bathe him. He murmured something, but I hushed him as I removed the copious cum from his front fur. It took some doing as so much had dried in it.

I gave him a third bottle to drink. I had noted his preference for fruit punch at breakfast and had placed some in my personal refrigerator. He appeared surprised but did not turn down the drink. The sugary liquid helped restore his lost energy.

When he was done drinking, I drained the tub an sat Mister Bartholomew on the edge. His erection had softened some, but it regained its full hardness after this brief respite. He squirmed nicely as I removed the harness and nipple clamps. I noted his reactions for future play.

I took my time drying his fur. The work provided an excellent opportunity to explore his body and grope him. He turned his muzzle away in shame, but his pink shaft started to drizzle precum again.

I brushed his fur into order. I toyed with him just a bit by reversing the brush and running the backside over his ass cheeks. I smiled as the implication of a spanking sank in. I did nothing more than play, though.

I set aside the brush.

"Time for the bed, Mister Bartholomew."

Mister Bartholomew struggled to rise, but I grabbed him and lifted him in my arms again. I carried Mister Bartholomew towards the door.

"I can walk!" he again protested feebly.

"I am sure you can, Mister Bartholomew, but we already had this argument. Now stop being heroic and let me care for you."

I was glad that the doors were wide so that I had no trouble getting him into the bedroom without hitting his head on the frame. I set him on the edge of the bed.

Woodenly, Mister Bartholomew crawled into the center of the bed. He spread his knees wide and lifted his tail high. He stared at the far wall as he obviously expected me to mount him without preamble. It was why he was here in my inner chambers after all.

I frowned. While I had every intention of sliding my cock into his tail hole, the look of desperation and hopelessness on his face was disturbing. Once again, I was reminded of the casual sexual and physical abuse and total lack of love that these students experienced daily. I admitted to myself that what I planned was hardly better, but I did care about my sexual partners, even if they were students sentenced to the Vulpine Reformatory School.

I gently turned Mister Bartholomew over onto his back. I pulled him back to the edge of the bed. He looked at me in confusion and then seemed to decide that I planned to mount him in a missionary position. He stared at the ceiling and waited.

I knelt on the floor. I smiled at the sight before me. The pink penis jutting into the air. The furry ball sack. The anal rose. I knew that I had made up my mind on all five students already, but the sight before me certainly would have swayed my decision had it not already been made in their favor.

I spread his legs further apart and placed his feet on the edge of the bed.

"Grab your ankles, Mister Bartholomew," I ordered him.

He did as I ordered. His look was one of a condemned fox heading for the gallows.

I leaned forward and placed my crossed arms on his lower torso. He looked at me in bewilderment.

"When was the last time anyone outside your friends showed you love or at least affection, Mister Bartholomew?" I asked quietly.

"I think that you are in great need of much more of both."

Mister Bartholomew stared at me in shock for several seconds. He tried to form a reply, but no words came out of his mouth.

I ran a paw over his chest.

"I hope that you will enjoy receiving them from me as one of my students."

The instant that the meaning of my words sank in, he lost it and became a blubbering kit. I sighed internally and wondered how badly broken these foxes really were.

I pulled him up into a sitting position and wrapped my arms around him. He clung to me like a drowning fox who had found a log to keep him afloat. He placed his head on my left shoulder and cried uncontrollably.

The crying went on for some time, but it was eventually joined by words. He kept repeating, "Please don't leave me alone! Please don't abandon me! Please don't send me away!"

I stroked his back and tried to calm him. His fears of abandonment grew greater with every passing minute. Desperation entered his voice. He was on the verge of panic.

Mister Bartholomew made fists and started to weakly pound on my back. "He screamed "I don't want to be alone!"

I yelled sternly, "Bartie! You are not going to be alone! You are not going anywhere! You and your friends are going to be my students for the next four years!"

Mister Bartholomew froze.

My words slowly worked their way into his consciousness past his fears.

"Rea- Really" he asked in amazement.

I let go of him and put enough distance between us that I could look him in the eyes.

"Yes," I said in a voice that allowed no doubt. "If you want to be here, you will be allowed to remain as long as you wish or until you graduate."

The range of emotions playing across his face was amazing. I pulled him against me again and hugged him tight.

"I know it is not perfect, but you are home now, Bartie," I whispered into his ear.

My coyote-fox broke down crying again, but this time it was tears of joy, not fear. I held him and waited for his emotions to burn out. It took more time than I expected. His fears were indeed great.

When he finally calmed enough, I let Mister Bartholomew go. He looked down in apparent shame at his reaction but did raise his head when I started to stroke his face.

"Feeling a bit better, Mister Bartholomew?" I asked in a gentle tone.

My dog seemed incapable of speech. All he could do was nod yes.

"Are you alright?"

Mister Bartholomew managed to stutter, "Y- Yes. Yes, Sir."

"Good. As strange as it may seem, I want you to be reasonably happy."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Now why would you think I would single you out and send you away, Bartie?"

His head dropped again.

"Because I'm different, Sir. I'm not a pureblood fox. I'm-"

"A very handsome male that I intend to screw silly," I interjected firmly before he could continue.

"As for being different, that just makes you exotic and, in my estimation, much more sexually desirable. You also have the advantage of greater size that offers me some interesting options for the future once I have explored your kinks and desires more."

I grinned and added with a sideways glance, "I also think that Mister Walter will enjoy your size."

It took him a moment to get my innuendo, but when he did, Mister B's face lit up, and he laughed.

"Yes, Sir! He has enjoyed my 'size' in the past!"

I gave a small laugh. I knelt there watching Mister Bartholomew calm.

A puzzled look suddenly crossed his face.

"Sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Um... Sir? You- Um... You called me 'Bartie'."

"Yes. That is your friends' nickname for you, and I find it acceptable."

"But- But teachers never call students by nicknames like that! Only cruel ones!"

I sighed but smiled. Once again, I reached out and stroked his face.

"I have no intentions of calling you by anything but your proper name publicly. Even in these quarters I will normally not call you or the others by your nicknames.

"But when we are alone, and there is a need or a great desire on my part, yes, I will call you 'Bartie'. Not often, because I do not want to slip in front of others, but occasionally.

"Anyone who is my regular sexual partner deserves proper respect and treatment."

I thought I broke his brain as he stared at me blankly for many long seconds.

"Sir" he exclaimed before wrapping his arms around me in a death grip.

I returned his hug and waited for him.

Eventually Mister Bartholomew let go of me and sat back. I cocked my head and asked, :Okay now, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good!

"Now the question is what to do with the remainder of this night together."

Mister B nervously wet his lips and replied, "I thought you were going to rape me, Sir. A hard one. Up the ass."

"Oh, that has certainly crossed my mind," I replied with a smile, "but this is about pleasure, not punishment or pain.

"What do _you_want to do?" I asked pointedly.

Mister Bartholomew became extremely nervous.

"It is okay." I reassured him. "I am fine with you saying that you want to go to sleep or something else. There will be no repercussions if you do not feel up to sex tonight. After the Punishment Room, I am surprised you are even conscious."

He flicked me a quick glance and smiled before dropping his head again. He thought carefully before replying.

"I do like sex, Sir," he confessed. "What male does not? I just always assumed you would dictate what happened and when. Taking your pleasure with me, as it were. I never really thought about what I wanted.

"Maybe something gentler. Sir? I'm up for it, but maybe something less than a hard rape? Sir?"

I chuckled at his imploring look. He was unconsciously giving me puppy dog eyes. I was certainly not against doing as he wanted, though. I had already had thoughts in that direction.

"Wait here, Mister Bartholomew."

I brought several large towels into the bedroom from the bathroom. Most went in a pile at the foot of the bed, but one I lay out flat in the center of the bed.

I caught Mister Bartholomew's confused look and explained. "No reason to have large wet spots in the bed."

He nodded, but I also noted that he swallowed nervously.

"Mister Bartholomew, lay face up on the towel. Arms at your sides. Legs spread."

Mister Bartholomew did as ordered.

"Wider!" I said as I tapped his right ankle.

He doubled the spread of his legs.

I slid belly down onto the bed and wriggle my way across it until I was between his legs with the tip of my muzzle even with his balls. I dipped my muzzle and gave his left testicle a long, slow lap.

Mister Bartholomew's body wet rigid.

"S- Sir? Shouldn't I be doing that to you?" he asked in confusion.

I cupped his ball sack in my right paw and squeezed just hard enough that he could feel the pressure but caused no pain. His head rose, and he looked down the length of his body at me.

"No. I choose to play with you this way. Later, I might have you return the favor. Is there a problem with that, Mister Bartholomew?"

"No! No, Sir!" he replied quickly.

"Good! I do not want there to be any confusion in who is in charge, Mister Bartholomew. You have been pushing the edges of control all day."

I grinned and released his balls.

"Sometimes, you just need to lay back and enjoy!"

I dipped my muzzle and started slowly licking his balls. His head dropped back down. Soon he was moaning. His paws gripped the towel and bed sheets. His knot grew. I took some time to pay it attention with my nose pad and muzzle. I was rewarded with ever increasing writhing of his body.

"I'm going to cum, Sir!" he screamed.

"Cum for me, Mister Bartholomew!" I said before licking the underside of his throbbing shaft hard and fast. I was rewarded with yet another long stream of jism arching over his belly to land on his chest. It was joined by a second, third, and fourth. The blobs of sperm grew shorter and did not travel as far, but they were prolific and continued for some time.

I ran my right index fingertip over the bottom side of his shaft. I could feel the still hard member twitch under my touch.

"I am impressed, Mister Bartholomew. After earlier, I would have expected you to long since have been played out," I complimented my dog.

"Thank you, Sir," he replied as he looked anywhere else but my face.

"Not used to being complimented, Mister Bartholomew?"

"No, Sir," he confessed.

"Expect that to change. I will admonish you when you deserve it and praise you when you earn it."

"Thank you, Sir."

I could tell he was uncertain, but trust would come with time.

"Still up for some more fun, Mister Bartholomew? There is a certain hole I want to plug."

He licked his lips nervously but replied, Yes, Sir."

I took a second towel from the pile and started wiping down his fur from his crotch to face to remove the globs of sperm. I made sure that the towel trailed over his crotch to occasionally stimulate his shat and balls. Small jerks of his body told me that I was succeeding. I was not surprised to see his knot was swelled to full size when I removed the towel and tossed it into the hamper.

"Kneel on the end of the towel, Mister Bartholomew."

He did as ordered. I could tell that he was apprehensive but willing.

I knelt behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I slowly rubbed his belly.

"Don't be afraid, Mister Bartholomew," I whispered into his left ear.

"I'm not afraid, Sir." he whispered back. "I'm nervous."

"Why, Mister Bartholomew?"

"I want to please you, Sir."

I smiled and told him, "You already have, Mister Bartholomew. You know that you are staying here if you desire."

"Yes, Sir. I know that. I just hope that you like my body. Not... Few foxes or even wolves do. They think I am too big when they... fuck me."

I pulled him back against me.

"I am sure that I am going to enjoy your body as I 'fuck you'. I do not believe you to be too large at all. In fact, I am looking forward to going deep into you."

He nodded but still seemed to be uncertain. Again, time would be needed. It was clear that he was suffering from many problems including self-image.

For now, I decided to proceed.

"Down onto all fours, Mister Bartholomew," I told him as I let him go.

He did as commanded. I noted that the look on his face was not desperate as it was before. Perhaps it was more resigned than anything else, but he did seem willing.

I lay down on my side to his left. He glanced over at me before turning his head back forward. I ran my paw over his back first but worked my way to his ass. I stroked his cheek.

"You have a very hard ass, Mister Bartholomew. Plenty of workouts with the vixens?"

I think I embarrassed him.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good! I expect you to continue that often."

I was surprised when he smiled at the prospect.

"Do you want to play with me now, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Yes, Sir. I would very much like to play with you, Sir."

I looked closely at his muzzle. There was just a hint of a smile on it.

"Very well, we shall play, Mister Bartholomew."

I rolled off the bed and went to the nightstand. I saw him looking to see what I would get. I smiled reassuringly and brought out some anal lubricant. He sighed in relief.

I smiled and said, "Let's get you greased up."

I opened the jar and dipped my middle finger into the lubricant up to my second knuckle. I put the jar on the towel and placed my fingertip against his anus. Mister Bartholomew jerked in response.

"Easy, Mister Bartholomew. I am not going to hurt you."

"I know, Sir. I'm just rather sensitive at the moment."

I had to laugh. After all that had happened to him today, he had to feel the slightest breath of wind across his exposed pucker.

I ran my fingertip in a small circle over his rim until the pink flesh was well lubricated. I could feel his body relax as I did not rush into anything.

"Since we are going to play, Mister Bartholomew, I think it is only fitting that you get down in the 'play' position."

He looked back at me uncertainly. I nodded down towards the mattress. He lowered his body until his arms were on the mattress and extended out before him. He arched his back and bent his tail forward so that it fell along his right side. He lifted his head and looked back at me.

"Very good, Mister Bartholomew," I complimented him. My dog certainly looked good, and I enjoyed the smile that was creeping onto his face. He relaxed and accepted what was happening.

"Let me know if this hurts. If it does, we will stop."

Mister Bartholomew seemed confused that I would care about his pain, but I did not want to make him hurt. This was a pleasure session. While I knew that future ones would include discomfort, even actual pain, I did not intend to do any of that tonight.

My finger had never left his anus. I continued to make small circles over it, but I increased my pressure. I could feel his muscles tense. He obviously knew what was coming, but after the initial response, he relaxed. In a few seconds, the top of my finger pushed his hole open and slid in.

Mister Bartholomew gave a sigh of pleasure.

"Do you enjoy anal sex, Mister Bartholomew?"

"Sometimes, Sir."

"Would that be mainly when someone goes slow and makes you comfortable first?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Does Mister Walter do that for you?"

There was a pause. Foxes were not supposed to have sex without a teacher's command to do so as punishment. The punishments like the one meted out earlier this week showed how severe things could be if the foxes were caught. If he admitted that he liked Mister Walter mounting him, he could be in big trouble.

"Yes, Sir. I like when he has me."

It was a sign of trust that he had confessed what they had done.

"Good.

"Make sure that you only do so in our quarters in the future unless you want to be on the receiving end of a very public punishment and a long time in a cock cage."

He turned his head and looked at me in astonishment.

"Sir?" he asked in amazement.

I ignored him. We would discuss such matters tomorrow.

Instead, I pushed my finger deeper into his bottom and was rewarded with a yiff of pleasure from my fox.

I played with him for several minutes. We were not going to get up early tomorrow, and there were no classes, so I was not worried about the time. He seemed strong despite his already considerable use.

I withdrew my finger and dipped it back into the lubricant. This time, I went as deep as I could, and the entire finger was coated with a thick coating that dripped onto the towel. Mister Bartholomew smiled and sighed at the sight. There was little resistance, and I slid my finger as deep as possible into his behind. He wriggled his ass delightfully as I played inside his ass hole.

I had been sporting an erection from the start of the evening's fun. My crotch fur and the towel beneath me were soaked with precum. I was ready to mount my dog fox.

I took out my finger. Mister Bartholomew looked at me and whimpered. He did not like the emptiness in his tail hole. He grinned and started to wag his tail when I scooped a large blob of lubricant out of the jar and started to coat my dick. His eyes did not leave my glistening shaft as I wiped my paw clean so that I could hold him without slipping. He started panting lightly in anticipation.

I smiled. Mister Bartholomew did indeed seem to be ready and surprisingly willing.

"And now, it is time for me to play with you, Mister Bartholomew."

I rose and knelt behind him. He watched me get into position but made no protest. Indeed, his smile broadened, and his panting increased.

I was horny as hell, but I was determined to make this a positive experience for my dog. I ran my paws over his ass and back, he arched his body even more and murred in appreciation.

I grabbed the base of his tail in my left paw and his waist with my right. I placed the tip of my hard shaft against his tail hole. I looked down at him. He was looking up at me in obvious anticipation of what was to come.

My cock was much larger than my finger, but the shaft still slid into Mister Bartholomew's behind easily. He was surprisingly vocal as my knob forced his ass hole open and the long length of my shaft slowly slid in. I smiled. As much as he had been reticent and even withdrawn, hearing happy fox noises made it all worthwhile.

I continued inserting my dick until my knot gently bumped against his orifice. I did not know if he thought I would tie to him or not, but I had other plans for our first tie.

I liked both hard and gentle mounts, so accommodating my dog with a long, gentle screw was not a problem. I did increase my tempo slowly as his muscles relaxed, but I only went fast enough so that we both had plenty of pleasant sensations.

I knew I was not going to last long after hours of foreplay in my office, the Punishment Room, and bedroom. I was surprised that I did not spurt as the warmth of his behind enveloped my shaft. I only managed to keep it slow for a couple of minutes before I felt a familiar sensation in my lower torso.

"Now!" I said through gritted teeth. Mister Bartholomew knew what I meant and started raising his ass to meet each of my thrusts.

My pace increased, and I drove deep into my dog's ass. I did not forget his needs and moved my right paw around his body. I grabbed his dick and pawed him off. I felt a spurt of cum as I released the contents of my balls into his bottom.

I might not have been able to hold back, but the long titillation meant I was almost overflowing with sperm. I slowed my tempo but kept rocking my hips to drive my shaft into his behind. I did not stop until well after Mister Bartholomew was done with his orgasm.

I pulled out. A long string of white jism connected my knob to his slightly open tail hole. Some more of my sperm leaked from his wail hole and fell to the towel beneath us.

I had to steady Mister Bartholomew as he swayed following his orgasm. It was clear that he was on the verge of exhaustion, but he still looked back at me and asked, "Again, Sir?"

"No, Mister Bartholomew. You are clearly in need of some rest.

"However," I growled, "tomorrow morning I intend to take advantage of the schedule and introduce you to your proper duties as my student.

"If you choose to accept," I added.

He licked his lips again, a habit I found fascinating. Nervously, he replied, :I think that we all will, Sir."

"Most likely yes, Misted Bartholomew," I said as I stood. "It is in your best self-interest, and despite my kinky, sadistic desires, you are better here than elsewhere.

"For now, let's clean you again."

I used a third towel to wipe him down. He murred appreciatively when I ran the towel over his still extremely sensitive tail hole. He pushed back against it as I held it still for a moment. I smiled at the look on his face. He enjoyed the sensation.

I finished by wiping off my member and some stray cum on my fur. The towels headed for the hamper as well.

I turned back the disheveled blanket and lay down on my right side.

"Snuggle in here, Mister Bartholomew," I commanded as I patted the mattress right in front of my sheath. He lay down in front of me but his back barely touched my front. I put my arms around him and pulled him back into me.

?When I say snuggle, Mister Bartholomew," I said as I nuzzled his left shoulder and neck, "I mean snuggle."

"Yes, Sir."

"Do not be so afraid, Mister Bartholomew. I already told you that nothing more will happen tonight."

There was a long pause before he replied quietly. "I've had teachers and others tell me that before and then break their word.

"Badly."

"You should not have that problem here, Mister Bartholomew. I mean what I say. I just want a little cuddling before we go to sleep.

"Nothing more."

My dog said nothing, but several seconds later he raised his tail and draped it across my left thigh. I had a clear shot into his ass hole. It was clearly a sign of trust.

"Rest now, Mister Bartholomew." I whispered in his ear as I held him. "Tomorrow will be another day. You will need your strength."

I stopped nuzzling him and just held him. He was exhausted and fell to sleep quickly.

For some time, I contemplated Mister Bartholomew's fears of being unsuitable and sent away. I suspected that the others had much the same fears based upon what I had seen and heard from them. I was a hormy prick, but I still had some feelings. I held such a terrible sword of rejection over them.

I wrestled with how to be a dominant male taking my pleasure from them while still developing enough of a relationship that they would feel comfortable even in this perverse situation and not live in constant fear of being thrown out by me.

In the end, I decided that simply doing as I planned and treating them with some level of respect and affection was the best that could be done. It would take time and trust to fix or at least help their broken lives.

I slid off into sleep. I would certainly need my strength as well for the big day ahead when I would claim my students for my own!