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"I never thought it'd be so easy to get you to kneel, Saul...you fold easier than a lawn chair. Just have to give you a little push..."

The weight of the strap-on struck his hip, the lubricated tip smearing some of the excess against his fur.

"...And just like that, you're face down in our bed, arms tied behind your back, practically begging me to shove this cock in you..."

The words weren't quite as organic as Joan had hoped for--the lines themselves were great--but the delivery didn't have quite the natural, dominant feel that she was going for, just yet.

Curiosity and intensity were doing a great job of making up for the lack of experience, and all the while, Saul didn't dare to point out any flaws in his wife's performance: after being put in his place by Joan once before and finding himself a willing vector for the submissive role, he just couldn't help letting his smaller, weaker wife bend him into whatever positions she felt interested in trying.

Insecurity kept him wondering: "Is she really into this? Is she just doing it to appease me?"

The truth of the matter was that Joan had been dying to put the toy on since she'd broken him the night before. She'd rushed home early from work and made sure that she'd know just how to get the harness into place--that the straps would be snug without pinching her flesh--and that she'd be able to move and thrust naturally with the weight of her hips.

She'd done a great job the night before, but that was without the false cock to alter her weight and center of gravity. She was nervous about how that would change her approach, but she didn't dare to admit that to Saul, right then.

As she knelt behind him in their marital bed and watched his tail give slow, alluring sways, she trusted that she was doing to do an amazing job, no matter how she proceeded from there...and that her husband wasn't just abiding her new, bold exploration.

"But you haven't actually begged me to stick it in just yet, have you?" Joan asked, adjusting her hips to bring the tip of the strap-on back to the base of her husband's tail. "You've been rather quiet, all told...proper behavior for a submissive, little thing like you, but I want you to tell me the truth, Saul."

That code of submissive silence allowed Saul to come that far without having to say something embarrassing. He applauded his wife for being able to slip into her new role so well--he had no idea that she was every bit as nervous, but excited as he was--but he didn't have to do much, other than submit to his wife and respect her orders.

"Beg for it. Tell me that you want me to shove this big, thick cock into that slutty little ass of yours..."

For a moment, Saul wished that there was some sort of ribbon tied around his muzzle, or a gag pushed into the gap of his maw.

Any excuse not to answer...any reason to be able to deny the embarrassing wishes that his wife had come to fulfill for him would have been good enough.

"I..."

"Go on," Joan prompted him again, this time bucking gently with the toy, rubbing the tip against the exposed warmth of a nervous, virgin pucker. "Tell me the truth, boy."

Just that final word would have been enough to break him. The delivery was perfect, and the way that Joan's voice hung in the air with a certain sense of expectation proved more than Saul could resist.

"I want you to," he said, but just as he paused, he realized that he wasn't quite clear enough: it wasn't right to expect his wife, now playing the role of his mistress, to be able to read his mind. "I want...y-you...to fuck me...t-to fuck my ass with...y-your cock."

He wasn't able to manage the same eloquence as Joan, but she was willing to give him that bit of leeway, knowing how much he was letting his guard down to make such an admission in the first place.

It was new territory for both of them; there were bound to be some slip-ups.

"There's a good boy," she whispered, pushing harder against the already yielding entrance of her husband's asshole. "See? Was that so hard, Saul? Was it so hard to just give yourself over to me like a good, little bitch?"

She didn't know yet which title would best fit, but the beauty of being in the dominant role was that she had the chance to experiment, picking and choosing which of the degrading titles she wanted to use on her hubby at any given moment.

Saul, on the other end, could only kneel in place and wonder which of those titles his wife would choose from, thinking that his opinion was meaningless to the selection process; if she wanted his input, she would have asked for it, instead of easing the first inch of her sex toy into his tailhole.

"It wasn't...h-hard...at all..." Saul confessed, trying his best to remember to relax as the first inch of the toy sunk into his body. "But taking you is kinda..._ohhfuck..._t-that's kinda hard, mistress!"

Having taken every inch of her husband's cock plenty of times before, Joan had to remind herself that going in the backdoor was never going to be as easy as the blissful act of taking his flesh into her womanhood.

That wasn't to say that it had never been painless, of course, but she didn't take that part of the act as any sort of revenge. She was doing her best to let a caring nature guide the first thrust, as she hesitated in place.

"You can have a little more, then," she offered, keeping the bottle of lube close by enough that she could easily reapply, if her husband's body absorbed everything that was already used. "But don't go wasting this stuff...unlike you , it's a precious resource..."

Playing with different levels of intensity, as well, Joan wanted to make sure that she was giving her husband plenty to think about, even when she wasn't giving him plenty to be stretched around.

"...So don't make me waste this..."

The long, clear strand dropped onto the toy, just as it was pushed into Saul's backside by another slow, easy roll of Joan's hips.

Having a dick wasn't quite the thrill that she hoped it would be, just as a matter of the length itself, but the complete package of the power that it gave her over her husband was another matter, entirely.

With just a strap-on and a single piece of rope, she'd turned her normally dominant husband into a man that felt smaller than she was, even if that wasn't literally the case. She'd reduced someone that was proud to be a beast in the bedroom to little more than a target for her own sexual frustrations, and to his credit, he was doing a wonderful job entertaining her, thus far.

"There...took another inch just from that," Joan mentioned, trying to keep her husband positive throughout his first pegging experience, despite the otherwise brutal way that she'd treated him, to that point. "But that's all the lube you're gonna get, unless you feel like you're gonna break inside...you understand?"

Tossing the bottle down and putting her paws on either side of her husband, Joan took his hips in a controlling embrace and leaned over his prone, lifted rump, eager to settle in and find a proper rhythm with her new toy--even pressing the first inch into Saul's backside was creating the most wonderful pressure against the hood of her clit.

"Yes, Mi...M-Mistress," Saul did everything in his power not to tense up against the shaft, but it was hard to remember to relax when there was something so entirely new inside of his body. Compared to the subtle toying she'd done with his backside the night before, the weight and girth of the false cock was, after just two inches of penetration, another level that Saul could only hope to aspire to.

When he didn't offer another protest, he felt the third inch sinking into his backside, but mercifully, the training toy wasn't any wider at the bottom than it was near the middle; the hardest part for Saul, at least as far as stretching was concerned, was over.

What so many others struggled with: the depth...was the part that would leave him a whimpering mess in his lover's arms before the night was over, but no tears would leak from his face, no matter how rough Joan was with his body.

It's tight...like a pinch and a push at the same time, but...the way she's treating me, I feel like I could cum already, and she hasn't even touched my cock!

The pressure was enough that Saul couldn't help the slow trickle of precum that spilled away from his tip, but even Joan wasn't completely aware of how much of a mess her husband was already making.

A pool, albeit small, was already gathered in the sheets, settled between the comfortable spread of his legs.

"Looks to me like I've been going a little too easy on you," Joan suggested. "You're taking it so easily...inch after inch is just sliding right in...perhaps I should have used a bigger toy on you?"

Just the idea of something thicker than what he'd already taken was enough to undo all of Saul's hard work, forcing him to seize up against the penetrating toy.

Much as he couldn't help wincing at the sudden, greater pressure, Joan was delighted to feel that resistance and the delightful weight of the strap-on pressing back against her clit. That sensation alone wouldn't have been enough, but grinding gently against the spot and embracing the power trip that came with dominating her husband, Joan was worried that she'd end up taking herself over the edge before she had a chance to fully hilt the toy within her pet.

"A good boy like you could take something larger, I bet..."

Her voice was thicker every time she spoke; she was becoming comfortable with the role that she'd picked for herself, and much to her delight, she was starting to feel the trickling warmth of precum spilling over the edge of the bed, dipping into the crease on the comforter.

That juice against her knee was an unexpected sensation--Joan wasn't sure if she was pegging her husband properly or not--but to know that so much precum had spilled that it was literally soaking into her fur, she didn't need him to tell her that she was hitting all the right spots.

Feels like we're finally even, she thought. Not that I can make you keep a load of cum in your ass while I drag you around the park, but...now you know how I felt when you shoved the whole thing in my tailhole like that.

The base of the strap-on finally came to settle against the lifted underside of Saul's tail. "But let's not go wrecking this little hole of yours on the first go," Joan suggested, easing back at the hips and trying a faster, easier thrust against the spot. "Let's break you in nice and easy, until you can take my cock at the drop of a hat..."

Some part of Saul wasn't sure if this was going to be a one-time deal or not.

Somehow, he believed that Joan would try penetrating him for the first time and not enjoy it enough to consider the prep work involved to be worthwhile, but he'd been asleep for a lot of their fun the evening before; he had no idea just how much Joan was enjoying playing with his asshole while he slept, and only an inkling of how much it turned her on to finally flip the tables on control and try something new.

Until she'd beaten that horse to death, as well, she was going to keep coming back to it, but she was already thinking ahead to prevent exactly that from occurring.

Gonna hop on the computer as soon as I'm done fucking his little ass and look up some other things that I can do with it,_she thought. _We've been keeping it vanilla for way too long...and there's a whole sundae bar for us to explore!

There was nothing wrong with the vanilla lovemaking that kept their relationship happy and fulfilling, but as far as Joan was concerned, she'd appreciate a plain bowl of ice cream that much more after she tried a little bit of everything in a decadent, gluttonous blend.

"You know...I didn't give you permission to make a mess of the bed, darling."

Pressure was giving way, little by little, as Saul's body adjusted to the impressive weight of the false cock and the easy, slow pumps of the smaller wolf behind him.

He didn't think it was possible to enjoy the sensation of simply being fucked as much as he was enjoying it right then, but the hanging tone of his wife's voice wouldn't let him completely slip into a relaxed state of submissive bliss.

"If you keep leaking like that, we're gonna have to wash the sheets when we're done," Joan warned him, fully aware that her own juices were absolutely coating the insides of her thighs. "And by that, I mean that my pet is going to have to lick up the mess he's made if he can't keep it inside..."

There was never permission given to cum, either, but the lack of experience between the two with this sort of play was evident, as little things slipped through the cracks.

They hadn't set any proper boundaries ahead of time, but as far along as they were in their relationship, there was a belief that they understood each other well enough not to need such talks--only for Saul to feel the budding of an orgasm that he was now furiously biting back against, fearful of the taste of his own seed if he continued down that delightful path.

"Do you understand that you're not allowed to cum until I tell you to?" Joan finally asked the obvious question, looking over her husband's quivering form with the knowledge that a single touch might be enough to break him.

"Yes, mistress..."

"And you understand that I'll be standing here, watching you lick up every drop of that load if you spill it on our nice, fancy sheets?"

Saul tried to nod his agreement, but he knew that wouldn't be enough: Joan would need to hear his obedience. "Y...Yes, Mistress..."

Joan was still enjoying the sensation of having Saul's thicker frame bent to her whims: the feeling of his hips, once strong enough to bend her over the bed and rattle her entire body, were rendered into mere targets for her sexual frustration.

She didn't want to let go of those makeshift handles, but the temptation of grabbing his cock and giving it even a single stroke, knowing that might be enough to shatter Saul's resilience...that was more than she could hope to resist.

Can't remember the last time it was that hard, either...and I haven't even touched it yet, she thought. Hanging and bouncing like that, but it's stiff as a board...I'd love to feel what it's like to have him inside of me when he's throbbing like that .

She'd known the stiffest of his erections inside, and to his credit, Joan was willing to admit that Saul hadn't lost any steam in that department. When their passions came together and they made proper love, Saul was firm in his love for Joan, but this time...she was stacking the deck, pitting his deepest desires against him.

She never would have guessed that shoving something in his tailhole would be enough to bring about the kind of youthful, pulsing erection that she'd known from him in their dating days, but eager fingertips finally reached out and captured that flesh, trying to hold it steady.

Her entire wrist twitched at the behest of the next throb.

"I can't believe you're enjoying this so much, babe...you really are just desperate for cock, aren't you?" she asked. Hips that went dormant for the capture began moving again, pumping a little faster that time and forcing her paw to rock back and forth, just enough to simulate a hint of a stroke. "You just needed your mistress to bend you over and...s-shove her cock inside you over and over again, didn't you?"

Without a little extra work at her own petals, Joan wasn't sure if she'd be able to reach her orgasm, but some part of her was less worried about the final payoff.

She was more concerned with the constant high of being in full control of her husband: compared to that seemingly endless rush, the temporary spike of an orgasm wasn't worth chasing.

Long as he can keep taking it, I can keep this feeling...I can keep this glorious feeling!

There was no more concern with his orgasm, as far as Joan was concerned.

Saul was still panicking at the peak of every thrust, feeling his smaller wife pound into his body with all the same weight and vigor that he would have shown to her. The greater depths of the toy and the warm, thick pap of her body against his own created a sensation that was equal parts heated comfort and sexual deviance, and not lost in all that was the budding strokes against an already leaking shaft.

Small enough paws gave Saul plenty of pleasure, but they stroked his ego in time, making him realize just how full and thick he'd become engorged: he had his wife to thank, for that.

In his submissive nature, he just wanted to make her happy, but it was impossible for him to determine if it was best to keep fighting to keep those juices inside...and he didn't dare to ask.

"Yes...Mistress, yes!" Saul called out, feeling a tighter, kinder squeeze at the tip of his member. "I need you to bend me over...to p-pound me with that fucking cock...as many times as you can!"

For having such bravado to that point, Joan was given pause: she didn't expect her husband to let his guard down so easily, nor to make such a bold declaration in the process.

"Goodness..."

She went completely still as she felt the first gushing of his seed against the palm of her paw, the excess juices bursting between the gaps in her digits and spraying across the bed.

"I always knew you'd be a little slut for me if I just pushed you over, but I didn't think you'd be so depraved," Joan admitted. A tell-tale giggle followed her words as she began thrusting once more, her cock gliding easily into the stretched, gaping entrance of her husband's backside. "If I'd known you could respond with that kind of excitement, I would have taken the reins over you years ago!"

Grabbing the tight, unyielding knot at the peak of her husband's wrists, Joan pulled back and forced Saul to whimper anew, having completely broken his body's resistance to her advances.

"You never have to g-give them back, Mistress," Saul offered, knowing that it wasn't his call to make anymore...but then, he knew that some of the juices running down the backs of his thighs weren't his own; Joan loved hearing him concede control in the bedroom, like that. "You can just k-keep me here, keep me pinned...keep me your..."

Joan picked up the pace, wanting to at least _graze_the edge of her orgasm with the rapid, grinding pressure against the hood of her clit. "My what , pet?"

"Your...little...b-bitch."

It was a greater success than Joan could have ever hoped for. The smaller of the timber wolves was over the moon with delight to begin with, but just hearing the sound of her husband's admission was enough to take her further beyond that, until she was riding the momentum of her orgasm all the way up to the stars.

Thrusting mindlessly, Joan could hear greater whimpers coming from below, knowing her husband needed the sensation of a simulated tie.

Her needs came first: she wasn't going to worry about grabbing that full, thick bulb at the base of his tool until she was sure that she'd rubbed out the highest highs of her release.

"That's just what you'll be, then," she told him, her voice laced with a new, feverish lust. "My little plaything, w-waiting for me on beck and call...my...little f-fucking bitch...that's all you'll ever be in this bedroom!"

In the throes of passion, it was easy for the pair to make such bold statements, but when their panting, shuddering bodies came to a cool halt and the energy in the room sank to where it was when they started, there was a moment of hesitation in both parties...

...It took more than a little urging from Joan for Saul to actually turn around and lick his own juices from the bed, and in turn, it took Saul leaning to the puddle of cum in the first place to get Joan to find those dominant words.

**

It was an impressive and delightful foray into the worlds of bondage and femdom, but it was just the first step, for Joan and Saul.

Where the act of taking Joan's cock and being milked to an orgasm proved enough to leave Saul in an exhausted heap in the middle of the bed, Joan found that sleep didn't come as easily to her.

"Wow...there's a whole line of BDSM play where the submissive partner basically just acts like a piece of furniture for their mistress? That's wild," she said, browsing the internet for different ways that they could take their play a step further. "And it looks like that kind of thing is pretty tamed, compared to what we could be doing together. Just depends on what we're both into..."

They'd tried plenty of things together in their years being happily married, and that many more in the years when they were dating, but it was the settling into a routine that followed that left Joan feeling like she needed to make a change in the first place.

Even little changes might have been enough. Sitting at her computer, the timber wolf just imagined putting her husband in the place of the chair she sat upon...and simply the idea of sitting on the warmth of his muzzle, forcing him to support her weight while her juices ran down his face and tortured his nose with her arousal...

...It was enough to bring a paw between her legs, working the petals of her womanhood as eagerly as her other fingers clicked the buttons of a mouse.

"If he really thinks I'm gonna let him sleep the night away in there when I'm soaking wet like this, he's got another thing coming," Joan murmured. "I'll get myself started, but if I start getting close, he's gonna be having this pussy for a midnight snack!"

Saul would have been delighted with that, of course. The last time Joan woke him out of a dead sleep, she was fingering his asshole while she worked herself up to a satisfying orgasm.

This time, she would have been that much more direct, but she'd give his tailhole a needed break, after such a brutal fuck--she didn't want to risk ruining her husband, now that she knew he wasn't just able, but entirely willing to play along at her every request.

Taking it easy to start off with was important, but Joan could already feel new arousal building within her and tugging her along, as if she was still the one on the other side of a collar, being instructed by the dominance of her own needs.

"Actually, a collar would be a great place to start," she thought aloud, her fingertips tracing the naked flesh of her neck, as if to test how she might feel about wearing one of her own...with her new, preferred title emblazoned on it. "Just a little something for me to grab onto and tug whenever I don't feel like instructing him; little sluts shouldn't be made to think that much, anyway."

Lowering her fingertips back to the mouse, Joan never stopped rolling her fingers against the petals of her mound, spreading them apart in a slow, easy rhythm. She waited until she could feel that natural moisture gathering at her flesh against before she dared to dip a fingertip in, but as she did, she curled her palm tight against the hood of her clit.

She wasn't going to bother warming herself up if she didn't do it right, and she prepared her body for the skillful kind of touch that only Saul had ever shared with her, before.

"And just like that, I'm already starting to fall for him again," she whispered. "And all he had to do was kneel in front of me and let me rearrange his guts like a good boy."

Their marriage was never in any danger of failing, and the romance hadn't faded a shade since their very first date, but to feel that renewed spark in the bedroom was an empowering--if addicting--sensation.

"Never mind. I...I'll let him rest up a little bit," Joan changed her plans on the fly as she scrolled through galleries of couples in different states of bondage, thinking that it was a waste for them to only practice the art of binding in the bedroom. "He's gonna need the sleep, after all."

She knew her husband would wake up with a voracious appetite, but he'd never eat his fill of the meal that he was to be served at breakfast, the next day.

**

The scent of coffee was enough to wake Saul from even the _deepest_of sleeps, and the ethereal tug of that aroma was enough to pry his body out of bed, no matter how entwined he found himself in the covers.

It was a sluggish and troublesome effort that brought Saul out of the bed, his body still naked, save for the sheets that gripped onto his morning wood and tried to follow him out of the bedroom.

His eyes were still half-lidded as he pushed those covers away from his body, and his conscious mind didn't process anything more than the bouquet of the coffee and the distant sound of his wife's morning muse: she'd picked a wonderful song to sing that morning, but the sight of her was still fuzzy to Saul's sleep-riddled eyes.

It was a shame for him to miss the tiny, black apron that she'd ordered through an overnight delivery service, but an absolute travesty for him to miss the sight of her lifted tail as he stepped into the kitchen.

Bent over the table just enough to give her tail a natural lift, Joan made sure that both her dripping womanhood and her tight, eager pucker were exposed to the sleepy timber wolf when he stepped into the kitchen, but he nearly missed the display, in his haste to find a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, sweetie. Would you like a little cream with your coffee?" Joan asked, her tail giving the littlest bit of a sway--plenty enough to capture his attention. As he rubbed his eyes, his jaw began to drop, but it wasn't just the sight of his wife that kept his lips from closing. "Or are you more in the mood for some...mocha?"

He'd have his choice of which opening he'd sample, but satisfying Joan's needs was no choice: that decision was made for him before he woke up, and his chair, usually pulled out at the head of the table, was nowhere to be found.

"Awfully, uh...awfully nice of you to offer to dress up my coffee like that," Saul found stumbling, nervous words as he watched Joan stand up from the edge of the table. "I can't help but notice that my chair's gone missing, though..."

"Don't you worry about that, sweetie. Just tell me how you'd like your coffee, and I'll be happy to serve it to you."

It didn't seem like it could be that easy: the way that Joan had prepared the kitchen, not to mention her own appearance, Saul was sure that whatever came next would be a lot more difficult than simply pouring a cup of coffee.

As much as he wanted to find out what she was _really_planning, he was feeling a hint of conflict about what he saw waiting at the end of the table: a tight, black collar was settled at the very edge, complete with a nametag that was yet to be dedicated.

"You really didn't have to go to all this trouble for me, you know," Saul assured her. "I guess I'd love a little cream in my coffee, if you're offering."

He still wasn't entirely sure what the different offers meant, but curiosity was strong enough to bring Saul into the kitchen.

Conflict kept him from immediately dropping to his knees at the other side of the table, even when he saw the thick, cushioned pad of black that had taken the place of his chair.

"Had a feeling you'd go with that option. Probably aren't ready for a cup of mocha yet, but you and I can always work up to that," Joan offered. "That's okay...if my pet wants a nice, warm cup of coffee with a splash of cream, he's certainly earned that after being such a good boy last night."

Controlling him wasn't just about pounding his ass with all the force that her smaller, slimmer body could generate. She'd done enough research to know that simply taking him and kneeling over his frame wasn't the only aspect she had to worry about.

Even in smaller ways, in basic, everyday interactions, she would need to remind her husband that his status as her equal was only reinforced by a piece of paper that they'd signed, where her role as his Mistress extended into every facet of their lives.

"I think you're the one who deserves praise for the performance that you put on," Saul countered. "All I had to do was kneel there and take it, but you...I didn't think you could move like that."

"You've made the mistake of underestimating me a few times in the past," Joan noted. "But after this weekend is over, I doubt you'll ever make that mistake again...if I get your coffee order just right, you might be done underestimating me already."

Saul wanted to argue that he'd never taken his wife for granted, nor had he ever underestimated her, despite her smaller body and typically demure personality.

He knew she was full of possibilities, but he hadn't considered the possibility of her holding a riding crop in her palm; his ears twitched to the swish of the leather end of the crop before it struck his backside, giving him all the incentive he needed to rush to the other end of the table.

"Your coffee's gonna get cold if you don't hurry up," Joan warned him. "After I woke up early and went to all this trouble...you wouldn't let that happen, would you?"

As much as he was enjoying the new, dominant side that Joan shared with him, Saul was struggling with one thing the most: her pace.

He worried, initially, that he'd be the one enjoying their pegging adventure too much--that he'd end up scaring her off by having too great a time being ridden by his wife.

Instead, she was the one rushing ahead and bringing new proposals to the table, even before her husband had a chance to grab his real breakfast.

"You know I wouldn't let that happen," Saul argued, but before he could kneel down, his ears turned once more, this time to the impatient tapping of Joan's toes against the kitchen floor.

His whimpering was immediate, right at the point of the THWACK , but his yelp was drowned out by the leather cracking against the cheeks of his poor, tender rump.

"You wouldn't let that happen, Mistress ," she reminded him. "That's what you meant to say, right?"

Gulping hard as he tried to gather himself, Saul felt the delicate weight of the leather crop rolling back and forth against his fur, tickling the scarlet-beaten flesh underneath with the threat of another spank, if he answered poorly.

Dropping to his knees with a paf of the pad, Saul nodded his obedience to his wife. "Yes, Mistress," his collected voice drowned the otherwise obvious presence of an agonized groan.

"Good boy...I knew you'd learn fast, but I didn't want to give you whiplash," Joan confessed. "I know this is a lot to adjust to in a short amount of time, but...I wouldn't have given you anything that I didn't think you could handle. You, uh...you don't need a safe word just yet, do you?"

It was an important thing for the couple to consider if they were going to go any further with their twisted games, but there was no lack of communication in their relationship, to that point.

If anything, Saul and Joan were a model couple, as far as open lines of communication and honesty were concerned, but this was new territory for them: discovering that they'd been quiet about some of their desires for each other, and further still, learning new things about themselves as they explored.

"I don't, uh...I don't think I do?" Saul replied, his own stumbling coming at the behest of Joan's hesitation...but he still remembered his place, as he forced a nervous smile. " Mistress! I don't think I do, Mistress."

He still felt the tickling of the air moving around the crop as it wound up for another strike, but Saul saved himself from that brutal fate, just in the nick of time.

"If you're absolutely sure, we can proceed without one, but...well, this is going to be pretty straightforward," Joan predicted. "What happens next should be predictable, at least, but if we keep going like this...I can't promise that I'm always going to be so easy to read."

Saul didn't falter. "If this is making you happy, Mistress...if this is something that you've enjoyed-

"It is."

"Then, I'm not worried about a safe word, or about you being predictable, until one or both of us comes across something that we really don't like."

Pushing the leather of the riding crop into the middle of her husband's spine, Joan controlled his motions without a single rope or cuff, forcing him to stiffen up with a single poke.

His chin came up over the edge of the table, and as it did, Joan stood behind him, reaching past his face to grab the collar on the ledge. Pulling the open accessory back toward his neck, she clipped it into place with an easy, satisfying click ; his tail picked up in a wag before it should have felt comfortable doing so.

"I'm going to take this all kinds of crazy places, pet. You've been warned."

"What happened to coffee, Mistress?"

A softer blow came, the riding crop striking the side of Saul's thigh as Joan moved in closer to his back.

"You and I both know that I wasn't really talking about pouring you a cup of coffee, darling..."

It was obvious enough that Saul felt silly for playing along with Joan for such a long time, but where she was taking the next step and truly coming into her own as a dominant woman, he was still a bit bashful to say some of the words out loud--to call things what they really were, without some extra encouragement.

Joan would be happy to provide all the motivation he could ever need.

"Fact of the matter is that I think you're gonna enjoy this breakfast a lot more than a simple cup of coffee," Joan finished her thought. "And you can eat this for breakfast every day, as many times as you want, without having to watch your waistline. What's not to like?"

Stepping around her husband with a slow enough approach that her tail had a chance to curl around the back of his neck, Joan contrasted her own touch with the cool leather of the riding crop, dragging it around Saul's hip as she approached the edge of the table.

"You do make quite the generous offer, Mistress," Saul answered quick, trying his best to stay in line with his new role. "Thank you for sharing the bounty of your...coffee...with me."

"Thank you for picking the cream, pet."

Climbing onto the table, Joan made quick work of wrapping her thighs around either side of her husband's head; that much of the act was vanilla enough, to start, but the attitude with which Joan approached Saul and the outfit that she'd picked were already enough to elevate the moment.

It was no longer as simple as Saul putting his head between Joan's legs and eating her out, as he'd done dozens of times before. There was a greater depth of intimacy to the act, and for Saul, a greater sense of pressure to the performance, with the ever-hanging threat of the riding crop settled just atop his head.

"Don't be shy, now: there's plenty enough to go around, and the more you drink, the more I'll make..."

No matter how concerned Saul was about their love life before, he could feel those fears melting away as he gazed between his wife's legs, seeing a glaze of arousal painted upon her inner thighs. Webs of natural, liquid desire spilled from her womanhood in such a volume that he would have thought she'd been warming herself up all morning long; that she was awake well before him made it impossible to rule that out.

When was the last time she was really soaking like this, for me? She's always wet, always enjoys herself...but this is so much more ,_Saul thought. _Is she really that turned on, just by having control over me?

There were layers to the act that Saul was too occupied to peel away...layers to the mental thrill of Joan's new position that he simply couldn't appreciate.

What was easy for him was leaning in and dragging the flat of his tongue through the mess, collecting as much of a sample as he could from the matted fur on her inner thighs--the timber wolf knew the importance of properly warming up his lover's body--before he even considered going for the soft, pink silk of her petals.

"Cleaning up all the extras before you go in for a drink? _Silly_pet," Joan whispered. Collecting herself and keeping her voice in check were notes that she'd taken about how best to keep a dominant position over her husband: much as she loved the subtle, inward tickle of his tongue against her thighs, she didn't want to give too much away. "But you always were the type to lick up the whipped cream before going for the coffee...long as you keep that tongue moving, I won't complain."

It could have been as long or as short a time as he wanted, but that was the last of the freedoms Saul would experience, before he felt the first tug on the lead of his collar.

Just as his tongue was pushing up and around her tummy to move to the other side, hoping to clean every drop of the excess from Joan's fur, he yelped , feeling a firm tug at the lead and a soft, soaking cushion on the other side of the same.

"I won't complain," Joan clarified, "But I will guide you in the right direction, if I feel like you're getting lost in the moment. I'm sharing the bounty of a fresh cup of coffee with you, but this isn't a coffee break, love..."

The scent of her arousal was forced upon his nostrils, turning his every breath into a glorious assault on his senses; Saul was happily overtaken by the powerful, alluring bouquet.

"Yes...M-Mistress," he tripped over the words, speaking right into her folds. The tickle of having his nose against her most intimate flesh was a delight Joan hadn't accounted for, but she was glad to feel Saul's tongue pushing forth, proving that he knew the value of his words...and when it was best to save them for another time.

Joan didn't need his voice to get where she was going, and it wouldn't be enough to wash away her sexual frustrations--though his tongue might prove to be enough, judging by the unbridled delight of a single pass between her folds.

Those lips spread around the flat of a wide, canine tongue, parting with such a comfortable ease that Joan barely had a chance to properly respond. It was easier for her to keep her voice in check, thanks to the sudden nature of the touch, but to feel the very tip of that faithful tongue passing over the hood of her clit and circling back around it was more than she could handle.

"Good...g-good boy," she kept her voice to a whisper once more, and the press of a fang to her own lip kept her from giving anything more, as much as Saul had earned the praises she swallowed back.

More than good, she thought. He's amazing...and I didn't give him enough credit for just how skilled he is at pushing my buttons until I had the chance to put myself above him, for once. Wonder how many orgasms I passed over, thanks to my own hang-ups...

It was a deep enough thought, but not one that Joan would dedicate anymore time to, at that point.

"Keep slurping it, baby...k-keep slurping up that fresh, hot coffee," Joan commanded, her voice taking such a firm tone that Saul's entire body responded--the tip of his tongue was just the start, but the curl of his toes and the growing, bulging tip of his cock were jumping to attention, just at the sound of her lustful voice. "You'd better drink the whole pot, Saul. I brewed it up fresh , just for you!"

Keeping up with the flood of her arousal was something Saul had always welcomed in the past, but he couldn't recall the last time there was so much fluid to keep up with.

His own spittle was mingling with the mess, producing such plentiful juices that there was already a small puddle under the chin of the submissive timber wolf. He knew there was more to come, and he was delighted to hear the muted, stifled pleasure escaping the corner of his wife's muzzle in quiet squeaks...but the burden of performance wouldn't allow him to take it easy, as he would have in the past.

He was dedicated to a new extent, pushing his tongue down from her clit and carrying on to tracing her labia once more, collecting any new juices that had spilled...

...At least, until he felt another tug on his collar, forcing his lips up into a suckling seal upon her clit.

"You stay...r-right the fuck where you are," her voice was thick with need, but greater still than that was the sense of demand that had wrapped around her vocal cords. "Suck my f-fucking clit until the cream comes out!"

Though fully aware that she was capable of squirting, Saul didn't think that Joan could perform the trick on demand, even if she was the one in control of the situation.

He'd always taken it as a compliment of the highest order when it happened, doubly so when it happened beyond Joan's control--this, however, was different--it was the first time that he could recall her giving such an outright warning.

"I said suck it, pet!"

Startled by the order, Saul hesitated. The SMACK of the riding crop against his hip woke him up in an instant, and in the very next, his tongue was swirling around the hood of his lover's clit once more, this time aided by the seal of his lips over the tender spot.

Suckling gently at first, he felt another blow from the riding crop, delivering such a sting to his side that he couldn't help trembling against the edge of the table...but all the while, a stream of precum was spilling from the tip of his cock, and the tickle of that same warmth against the flesh of his own sack was an undeniable sign of his enjoyment.

Am I really that into this? He still wondered, thinking that Joan might have crossed a line with the intensity of the tugged collar and the weight of the repeated, harsh blows with the crop. I know I'm leaking, but what happened to being a man and standing up for yourself? To pushing back once in a while...?

Nearly hypnotized by the taste and aroma of Joan's womanhood, Saul wouldn't have been able to pry himself from the treat of her flesh, even if there wasn't a single ounce of force keeping him in place.

When the deed was done, and the high, shrill chorus of Joan's voice told of a greater mess to be cleaned, Saul thought that he might be able to give himself a moment of pause...but the leash was given up on, as digits curled into his hair and tugged mercilessly at his skull.

"Get in there! Get the fuck in there!" she demanded, her flesh tickled and teased by the suckle of his lips and the lower, thicker whimpers that she'd forced from his lungs. "If you spill a single drop of that coffee...you...y-you're gonna be kneeling there for the rest of the day, mister!"

With one paw ensnared in his headfur and the other trembling around the handle of a riding crop, Joan was reaching new heights every time she put her husband in his place, but every step of the way, there was the tiniest hint of doubt in the back of Saul's mind, wondering if he was as comfortable with his new role as his wife was with hers.

Precum leapt from the tip of his cock in near orgasmic volume as the riding crop smacked hard against his backside, and new, incredible pressure surged from the base of his length as his face was coated with the squirted juices of an orgasm, but that single voice of concern remained in the back of his mind, making it impossible for him to commit; to keep up with the sudden flood of slick, heated juices.

She's squirting all over my face, pulling my hair, beating my ass...it's hot, but when will it be my turn to do this to her? He wondered.

He didn't realize that his ship had already sailed: it would be an interesting few months, as Saul learned to navigate the new, choppy waters of Joan's curiosity.

"Pathetic...I think you spilled more of it than you drank!" Joan admonished her lover with such frustration in her narrowed eyes that it betrayed all of the pleasure of the act, down to the slow, lazy trickle of juices that signaled the end of her climax. "Guess you must enjoy the feeling of leather against your knees, because you're not going anywhere until you clean it all up, pet..."

As soon as she dropped the lead, Saul figured he would be able to get up and walk away whenever he wanted.

Joan had considered the same, and though she believed the mental through line they'd established would be enough to keep her obedient husband right where he was, she had an insurance policy in the middle of the table.

Separating the leaf behind her and dropping the slack of the collar through that gap, Joan pushed the pieces together, giving her husband the hope of seeing the dangling lead below the table...just out of his reach, from his submissive position.

"Get to work," she said, her voice collected enough that it was a wonder she'd been in the throes of passion only minutes before. "I've got some more research to do; you can join me when the table passes my inspection."

Juices were still pouring down her inner thighs when she stood from the edge of the table, and in the middle of her sensual high, Joan had no trouble stepping forward and pressing her petals all the way over the top of her husband's muzzle, smearing her arousal up so far that it was literally between his eyes.

She couldn't recall ever marking him with such tenacity, but she already knew it wouldn't be the last time she did it...if anything, she was more than happy to keep their new morning routine intact.

**

The conversation wasn't quite as hard as Saul worried it might be, but after having such an incredible start to the week, he was worried that his voiced concerns would be too much: that Joan would be pushed away by his worries.

"I just don't know if I'm still feeling like the man of the house, you know?"

"I understand that."

"And you know I've been enjoying this, right?"

"Clearly."

"But I just...I had some concerns about losing myself. About losing my understanding of myself...that kind of thing."

Words didn't go much further than that, and for the first time all week, Saul woke up the next day without some sort of sexual peril staring him in the face and telling him to stand and deliver.

He didn't think he'd go into a panic in such short order, but the conversation that followed was a little bit harder, courtesy of who was on the other end of the call.

"Gotta admit, you're the last person I would have expected to call me about trouble in paradise."

"You're the only person who knows Joan as well as I do, James. If I wasn't worried, I promise I wouldn't have called in the first place."

Joan's half-brother, James, remained on great terms with the timber wolf into their adult years, and in that time, they were so close as siblings that they shared things about their personal lives that might have been uncouth, to most.

"So, you think that you're gonna scare her off because you're not sure if you're up to the task?" James asked. "Based on everything else you've told me, you two are having a wonderful time, so...if it ain't broke, why bother trying to fix it?"

"What if I'm broke?" Saul countered. "And what if I let that get in the way of an otherwise, well...an otherwise perfect marriage?"

"Are you really that unhappy with your wife being a little more aggressive with you, just because it means you're not in control every single time?"

"But what if I'm never in control again?"

James scratched his chin. "I don't think that's really Joan's style, to be honest. I'm sure she'd want someone to step in and man up for her every once in a while, but being my younger sister, I can tell you for sure that our parents were more protective of her: she rarely got the chance to make her own calls. This is probably really cathartic for her, and you're being a great husband by letting her explore this side of herself."

"And so far, I am enjoying it," Saul confessed. "But I still feel conflicted about it, and I...I really do worry that she's going to become too comfortable with this dynamic."

"I'm telling ya, she's more balanced than that. Just let her get this out of her system, and if you're really that worried, you'll just have to talk with her directly and let her know again that you still love her and want this to work, but that you need to set some new boundaries."

Saul let out a longer sigh, at that. "And...what if I'm the one that becomes too comfortable with it and decides that I like being in this position forever? What if I lose some part of myself for a temporary fix?"

"Not really a temporary fix if you're the one that's becoming addicted to it, but if you are, it must be pretty good," James teased. "Kinda weird to think about my little sister like that, but...yeah...I can imagine she's giving you one hell of a workout whenever she's got you on your knees."

"You have no idea."

"I mean...thanks to you, I kinda do."

"Fair point, but anyway...thanks for letting me talk your ear off. I think I just needed a sounding board to share all this with, and I didn't want to say it to Joan directly; not after how she responded to me voicing a single concern."

"Give her a little time, and I'm sure she'll come around," James replied. "And if you the two of you need anything, any advice, just another warm body to break up the awkward atmosphere...you let me know, and I'll be over there in a jiff."

James lived close enough that he could come over at the drop of a hat, and his lifestyle was of such a free-spirited nature that he wouldn't have any problem fitting Saul and Joan into his schedule.

He expected to hear from Saul again, thinking that Joan might have gone cold on him for his doubts.

What he didn't expect was to see a text message from his half-sister, requesting his presence at their house for a meeting...

...A clothing optional meeting.

**

"You two are really serious about this, aren't you?"

It took more convincing than Joan would have liked, but then, she didn't blame her husband for being a little uncomfortable with the idea.

The fact that he didn't immediately go running for the hills when she showed him the text messages between herself and her brother was a sign that he was a keeper; whether it was a matter of blind dedication to her and the preservation of their marriage, or the blatant fear of losing her for not going along with her ideas, Joan wasn't sure.

What she could confirm was the sight of her naked husband, standing in the living room like a display piece, clad only in the collar that he'd been given by Joan earlier in the week.

"Are we, Saul?"

Joan decided to take her own invitation, having forgone her clothing in favor of joining her husband's naked solidarity. Where she'd given herself a choice, Saul didn't have a say in the matter, and he wasn't sure if he was anymore comfortable with the situation, given that her own half-brother was able to freely admire her body...

...And to that point, he absolutely had, utterly free of shame despite the taboo.

"This...t-this is what you wanted to try, Mistress," he said, the sound of hesitance choking his voice with all the awkward presence of rocks in a drain. "And I want to do what you want to do."

"That's not exactly what we discussed on the phone, is it?" James mentioned. "You do have the option to say no here, Saul...and Joan isn't going to leave you if you do."

It was important to James that both his half-sister and his brother-in-law knew that there weren't such high stakes to the moment. He couldn't necessarily tell Joan that she had to stay with her husband if he didn't cooperate, but then, he didn't want to go into the moment on false pretenses.

He had his own agenda to adhere to, and Joan was opening a door of opportunity that he was dying to walk through, but he wanted all parties involved to enjoy themselves as much as possible.

"If I'm being totally honest, I don't...r-really know what I'd be saying 'no' to," Saul admitted. "Gotta admit that this is all a lot further than I thought we'd take our little experiment, but I don't...don't know for sure how I feel about all this, just yet."

"Gonna need more of a confident answer from you than that," James was firm--more so than his sister was ever able to be--but his tone of voice was more natural, as if the delivery that came from a place of both gained experience and given personality. "By the end of the night, I plan to have you and Joan wrapped around my cock for a few hours. If that's gonna be a problem for you, now's the time to pipe up."

As much as Saul was having a personal conflict over his role with his wife, he finally saw Joan having a moment of hesitation, as she looked to her half-brother with a cocked brow.

"You, uh...you wanna run that one by me again, James?"

"You didn't really think I was just coming over here to play with your boy toy, right? You're the one who said threesome in the text message, little sis. That implies that we're all having fun together; you can't just sit on the sidelines and watch the show the entire time."

Joan was happy to contribute in her own way, but she didn't anticipate that James would be so direct, nor that he would take her invitation so literally.

She figured he would just be on the other side of the mix, with Saul between them as a body to play with...and that hubris left her with her own conflicted feelings, as her brother tugged his shirt over his head and tossed the garment at her face.

"But since it sounds like you're even more nervous than your pet, I'll start with him," James offered. "Saul...based on everything you've told me, you're struggling to come around to the idea of being submissive, but there's a lot of fun ways we can test you: it could be that you're just trying to be a good, flexible husband, or it could be that we're finally getting to the core of who you really are. I suggest we find out the truth right away."

Pushing her brother's shirt from her face, Joan watched the fox-wolf approach her husband with a confidence that she'd never been able to exude, herself.

Taking in the hint of his natural scent, still lingering on the fibers of his shirt, Joan melted that much further into the couch, wondering how long she'd be able to watch her brother and her husband fool around before her hands began to wander.

"Do you mind if I do a little examination, Saul? I could just appreciate you from a distance, but it's not much of a threesome if we're keeping each other at arm's length the whole time."

James was kind enough to take it slow, especially for Saul: his interests were evenly split between the pair of timber wolves, but knowing how kinky his little sister had become, he didn't think she'd have any trouble getting into the mood, once she focused on the taboo of sleeping with her own half-sibling.

For Saul, who had always been firmly confident in his sexuality as a straight man, the greatest test was not whether he was actually straight, but whether his body and mind would more immediately respond to a dominant hand, no matter who it belonged to.

"Don't think I have much of a choice in the matter," Saul answered, his voice squeezed by the weight of that unfolding reality. "Do I?"

"Right now, you do," James corrected him. "But if we take this any further...if you let me put these hands on you? I can't make any promises beyond that."

It was such a thrill that Saul wasn't able to hide his every reaction.

The most prominent was the slowly growing length of his cock, pushing out from his sheath and offering such an obvious throb that Saul could have stayed silent the rest of the night--his body was all too happy to speak for him--but James wouldn't have been happy with that.

He wanted to hear every sound: strained or easy, high or low, from the very first gasp to the last, shrill cry of orgasmic bliss...James was chomping at the bit to run Saul through the vocal gauntlet.

"You came all this way, you offered to help however you could, and you're already this close," Saul paused as he broke eye contact with James, nervous to let anyone other than his wife be in such proximity without a scrap of clothing. "Unless this is all some sort of elaborate trick-

"I can assure you that it's not."

"Then you...y-you do what you think is best," Saul finished the thought. "If Joan is really okay with it, then I guess...I guess I am?"

It made sense that Saul was the most hesitant among the three, given his concerns about letting Joan fully take the reins away from him.

It was that much further a step to let someone else entirely, let alone her own brother, come into their marital home and make such a bold decision.

"She's already rubbing herself at the thought of it," James claimed, without turning around to check.

"...How the hell did you know that?"

"You think I never knew when you were masturbating when we lived at home? You'd make all kinds of noise in public about how you were so tired and how you needed a nap, and then you'd walk away, close your door really quietly, and then...you'd be damn near silent, trying to sell us on the fact that you were actually sleeping. Color me surprised that I checked one time and found your eyes shut so tight that you looked like you were in pain, and those quiet, subtle breaths..."

Joan was already flushed with the warmth of her arousal, but to be so definitively called out was more than she could handle without muffling her sexual frustrations behind the guise of the discarded shirt.

"Shut up and fuck my husband already, would you?"

"And who do you think you are to make demands to me?"

"Your little sister, and she always gets what she wants, doesn't she?"

"Maybe where Saul is concerned, but I'm the one giving orders around here, now," James declared his greatest intention, looking back over his shoulder at a bewildered Joan. "You can push this little pup around all you want, but if you were confused about the pecking order...you're the ones that called for help; I'm the one calling the shots until we've got this dysfunction figured out."

Saul was worried that James' presence would only further complicate any problems that were already present, but Joan was delighted to finally be the one giving the orders to her husband, that all came back to the root problem of needing a change of pace.

Having her brother in control of both of their sexual destines was about as great of a change of pace as she could imagine, and her body gave its approval in the form of a small, damp spot on the couch, soaking the cushions before her fingers ever had the chance to explore her tender, delicate flesh.

"Any objections, Saul?"

The submissive creature shook his head.

" Good. Trust me...if you're really as much of a bottom as I think you are, you're gonna have a wonderful time exploring this side of yourself," James said. "Let's start with the basics; I wanna see if you know how to suck a cock as well as my sister does."

Though Saul considered himself a fairly open-minded person, the fact that he was being thrust so far into the deep end, just after his head was held underwater twice in the week leading up, left him to feel like he might drown under the waves of so many sudden changes.

"I, uh...I've...never done that," Saul quickly noted. "Never really wanted to do that."

"Oh, sure, sure...I can respect that," James replied. "But what you've got a problem with is that little disconnect of different anatomy: you're hung up on the fact that I'm telling you to suck me off, but if it were Joan telling you to eat her out, that would probably be fine, right?"

"Doing either of those things in front of the other person is a lot."

Now that Saul was being honest about his hang-ups, he thought he might receive some sort of levity for being brave enough to tell the truth about how he felt.

He'd enjoyed every bit of dominance that Joan thrust upon him, but to have another person in the room at all was a huge step, despite that his wife and her brother were treating it as something casual--a fact that asked more questions than it delivered answers.

"Do you need a little extra motivation, Saul?"

It was rare enough for Joan to address him by his actual birthname anymore. For that reason alone, it was enough to snap his gaze away from James, but hesitant eyes widened at the sight of his wife's parted thighs and warm, dripping womanhood.

The spread of what he most desired was a sight grand enough to work his cock into a throbbing frenzy, without a single touch being offered; keeping Saul in a state of chastity was working wonders for his production.

"You've been dying to fuck me again, even if you've been too bashful to say it," Joan noted. "If you decide to be a good boy and play along with my brother, I promise I will make it worth your while, darling."

She didn't promise anything in specific--Joan had learned to be careful with her words--but the tone of her voice and the vague offer of any action whatsoever were enough to push Saul in the right direction.

It seemed like a massive leap for the submissive timber wolf, but it all came down to taking one step closer to James.

That was all it took.

"Sounds like my sister has quite the generous offer for you," James suggested. "I thought my offer was generous enough to begin with, but if she wants to sweeten the pot, that's her business. My business is showing you that there's pleasure to be had in bondage, no matter what it is you're being forced to do; try not to think of this in such binary terms of straight and gay, Saul. That's the first step."

It would be easier said than done, but knowing that his erection came from the sight of his spread, eager wife helped Saul to come to terms with what he was about to do.

His submissive nature turned the warm presence and natural musk of James' cock into an inevitability, rather than the possibility it was when the hybrid first entered the house.

"I'll, uh...I'll see what I can do about that," Saul offered, just as careful with his words as his wife had been with hers. "What do I do now, exactly?"

Paws gripped the timber wolf by the shoulders, pushing down hard before any sort of order was given.

Just at that weight, Saul faltered, but he tried to keep himself upright, unsure if James was looking for a pet with a resilient nature, or if he wanted pure, mindless obedience.

"You kneel down before your new master," James began. "You drop down when he tells you to drop down, unzip his slacks when he tells you to unzip them, and when you see his cock emerging from the sheath, you admire it...you kneel there and think about how wonderful it's going to taste when I finally give you permission to clean it off."

He wasn't upset about the orders ending without a proper touch, but Saul was confused at how James ended his instructions. "You don't want me to suck it, then?"

"Of course I do."

"Then...?"

"Joan still hasn't figured this part out yet, but sometimes, you need to delay your pleasure slightly, or forego it entirely, in order to make sure that your pet understands their place. You don't have the right to suck me off, Saul...you're being given the privilege, and a privilege is only something meaningful for two reasons."

Saul was nervous to ask, but the hybrid's statement demanded the question: "And what two reasons are those, master?"

"The first reason is obvious. It has to be something that you desperately want," James explained.

"And the second?"

"It has to be something that can be easily taken away."

To that point, it was difficult for Saul to keep a serious attitude. He'd never much cared for the idea of sucking a real cock--he was amenable to the idea of lubing up Joan's strap-on with his own spittle, if she'd asked for that much--but to consider any such thing a privilege he'd be afraid to lose bordered on comical, as far as he was concerned.

"Putting your pants back on and telling me to behave myself would be pretty easy for you, I'd wager."

"Mmhm. But how about we make this more interesting than that?"

Saul's ears wilted; he knew he'd pushed his luck with James a little too far. "I'm not sure if I can handle more interesting."

"In that case, I'm not asking if you can: I'm telling you that we're making it more interesting," James laid the law down, much to the whimpering delight of his sister and the growing concern of his new pet. "How about we tie your privilege to fuck your wife to your privilege to suck my cock?"

"...I don't-

"If I decide that you've lost the privilege to put this in your mouth," James paused, yanking down his jeans and revealing the growing, vulpine shape of his cock. "It means that you've lost the privilege to put yours anywhere in Joan's body...is that clear enough for you?"

Just like that, Saul found himself decidedly eager to give James' flesh a try.

"Yes, that was...t-that was pretty clear."

"Forget to call me master again, and you'll spend the rest of the night with my knot in your throat, choking on my cum while your wife falls asleep on the couch."

Joan giggled at the thought. "You really think I can even blink when you're putting on this kind of a show for me? Forget falling asleep!"

"Glad to hear that I've got your attention, sis. Gonna make it that much hotter to watch your husband choke himself on my cock..."

The more they interacted, the more Saul was convinced that there was a secret history between James and Joan. It was a bit too late for him to open that can of worms, and in the middle of being forced to his knees and turned into that much more of a submissive creature, he didn't have the gumption to interrupt, nor could he find the words to bridge such a taboo gap.

It was easier, though he hated to admit it...but far, far easier indeed to lean in close and look up at James as he silently asked permission to taste that bright, pinkish-red flesh for the first time.

When James offered no answer, Saul decided to take the initiative upon himself; he didn't want to lose the rights to his own wife over something as trivial as a blowjob.

"Did you want me to get started...Master?"

Jeans continued to slump down James' legs, until a small pool of denim was settled around his ankles.

His arms crossed over his chest. "To be honest, I'm not the biggest fan of giving my pets exactly what they want from the start, but you're still learning...and you're eager to prove yourself. I guess there are worse things than letting you show me what you can do."

Inexperienced and nervous, Saul opened his maw and leaned forth, thoughtless in his technique and obvious about the same as he simply pushed his open mouth over the tip of James' cock.

His movements were awkward, but more than that, it was clear that he cared more about simply doing the job and keeping his marriage intact.

James wouldn't have that. "You do know there's more to sucking someone off than simply putting your mouth on the end of their dick and sitting there, right?" he asked, his paws dropping to either of Saul's wilted ears. "Unless you want this to take all night, you might want to try something different."

Trying his best to be fair about his inexperienced pet, James accepted that Saul was due to have a few struggles in his first go, but it wasn't clear if the lack of experience was holding him back, or if the impossible pill of his pride still refused to be swallowed.

"Bob your head, Saul."

Tugging on those soft, velvety ears hard enough to draw a whimper from Saul, James guided the timber wolf in the right direction, doing more of the work for a submissive creature than he normally would have been willing to.

"And relax your throat, or this is gonna be a long night for all of us."

Thrusting against Saul's parted lips, James offered up more of his throbbing length, his body eager to know just how warm and slick it would feel inside the maw of another canine.

"Wow, he...h-he's really doing it, isn't he?" Joan sprung up from the couch, pulling long, slick trails of arousal with her. "Going all the way down to the base, too! I never knew that I could have talked you into something like this, Saul...I...I always wanted to know what it would be like to watch you fool around with another guy, you know."

Not that it would have made a difference back then, but why are you just now telling me this? Saul wondered. Is it because you didn't think I would have done it for you, before?

Still reconciling himself with the reality of going from the man of the house to a shared, obedient pet, Saul couldn't help worrying that he'd be subjected to something far worse than a simple blowjob before Joan's desires were satiated, but he was delighted to be the target of her suddenly aggressive nature.

To bring that nature out of her, however, was like opening his own Pandora's Box...and even with his paws free to roam right then, he knew better than to think that he could close it again.

"Trying to put your needs before my own already, sis?"

Joan blinked, seeing just how close she'd come to reaching around her brother's haunches to get in closer to the action.

"I mean, Saul is my husband," she pointed out. "It's only fair that I get a front row view of what you're doing with him, right?"

"I'm not here to talk about what is and isn't fair," James reminded her. "I'm here to put both of you in your respective places...now get back on the couch and sit on your paws so that I know you're behaving yourself, for once. If I look over my shoulder and see you touching any part of your body, you'll be lucky if I ever let you touch your husband again."

Though James assured her that she'd be able to hold a position over Saul all the same, he wanted to make it clear that he was the one at the very top of the mountain, no matter how much higher she climbed above her husband.

Shocked by his response, Joan could only nod her head and slink back toward the couch, sitting in her own puddle of forgotten arousal...right upon her palms, just as she'd been instructed.

"She bends to my whims at the drop of a hat...and she's got you under total control?" James teased, seeing that Saul hadn't moved from the spot, as easily as he could have. "You really are the most submissive person I've ever met, Saul. Explains why you're so dedicated to her in the first place, but Joan and I have shared everything for as long as I can remember; you can still be dedicated to her, but you belong to me."

For James to simply walk into his life and start calling the shots was a difficult concept for Saul to grasp, but that permission to still be dedicated to Joan was something that he took very seriously.

It was enough that, just for her, he was willing to ease his head back from the base of James' length, keeping his tongue flat against the underside, emulating the very technique that Joan had used upon his own cock before.

Before James could ask where he was going, Saul bucked his lips toward the base once more, pushing the end of his muzzle into the warm, soft ring of fluff around the edge of James' sheath.

Can't believe I'm really doing this...I don't hate it, but I can't believe I'm doing it, Saul thought. But I've got a bad feeling I'd better get used to it: if I knew I had a pet that I could force to suck me off anytime, I'd probably do the same thing he is, right now.

Submissive in nature, but still beholden to certain truths, Saul would have loved to have his own dedicated cocksleeve, but in his new position, he never would have taken such a thing for granted.

"Still sitting on those paws, sis?"

James balanced both parties with such practice that Saul had to believe that it wasn't his first threesome. He was too practiced at dividing his attention, and too comfortable with a situation that would have struggled to be anymore taboo.

"Thanks to you, yes..."

"I don't suppose you'd like to put them to better use than that?"

Hoping that she'd be given the order to get back to work on her eager flesh, Joan was bouncing on the cushion of the couch, cupping her own butt in the process. " Anything is better than just sitting on them," she claimed.

"I'm inclined to agree," James said.

He kept it that simple, but as he turned, he pried his soaking cock away from Saul's lips, letting a first bead of precum spill over the end of Saul's muzzle, dripping down the cool flesh of his nose.

Did he really just stop in the middle of something like that? I was actually sucking it, working it with my tongue, and he...he just turned away? How could he?

Saul knew his inexperience meant that it couldn't have been the best head James had ever received, but for any man to so easily step away from the pleasure of a warm, slick tongue was an incredible act of defiance; some part of the timber wolf was actually offended, despite his hesitance to taste James in the first place.

"So how about you stand up, put those paws on the couch cushion, and spread your legs for me the way you would have spread them for that big, bad wolf over there?"

James' suggestion was enough to steal the air from Joan's lungs.

She was still trying to gasp when her own half-brother stepped toward the couch, his length absolutely dripping with the excess spittle of her own husband. "You...y-you're joking, right? I thought we were taking turns going after Saul , dude. I didn't think you were actually...y-you know...gonna try and do any of that stuff with me."

"We've already gone over this, Joan. The two of you invited me over for a threesome..."

"Yeah, but this...t-this is different."

"You literally invited me into your house to kink the place up a bit, and when push comes to shove, you both wilt away at the moment of truth," he taunted, seeing a fresh tremble in his sister and knowing that her body quivered with anticipation, more than nerves. "Are you really gonna pass up the chance to let your own brother fuck you in front of your little bitch of a husband? What better way is there to show him where he ranks?"

James didn't have the make the point with such a strong argument, but he loved to watch his sister's resistance crumble away, little by little, as she allowed herself to sink further into what had become a bottomless ocean of twisted delights.

"I think he already knows where he ranks, James...but maybe I'm the one who hasn't gotten the point, yet?"

Snickering, James pulled his sister up from the couch, lifting her smaller body with delightful ease. "So you want to control him, but you want every other man in the world to control you; is that it?"

"Not every other man," Joan assured him, grinning at her brother as much as she was at her still-kneeling husband. "Just you , if you think you're up for it."

"Bend over the fucking couch, then."

"Make me."

Joan got exactly what she asked for, spun on her heel by her brother's strong, overwhelming grip. She yelped as she caught herself on her palms, pressing them into the dimpling cushion of the couch...forced into the very position her brother requested with a single, strong-arm gesture.

"Did he ever do this to you, Joan?"

"Mnnf! He...h-he did..."

"Did he ever bend you over the couch and rub his cock between your ass cheeks like this?" James carried on, the vulpine length of his member gliding along Joan's rump and teasing the underside of her tail with an aggressive, simulated thrust.

"All the...all the time, he did!"

"Did he ever tell you what a little slut you were? Ever grab you by the hips and tell you that you were only good for taking his cock and being bred?"

The line of dominance was slowly trickling into disrespect, but between Joan's legs, even Saul could see the fresh, single stream of arousal dripping away from her pouted, desperate folds.

Saul did a wonderful job of being physically dominant when he had the chance, and being so much larger than his wife, it was easy to control her body, but in one evening, James was assaulting her senses in a way that Saul never managed to; it was too late for him to take notes about how his wife liked to be talked to in the bedroom.

"I don't t-think he...ever said that , n-no," Joan's voice was rattled, her limbs having all the strength of boiled noodles. "Holy shit, I'm...I'm really about to f-fuck my own brother...in front of my husband!"

"Just needed to hear that part out loud, didn't you?"

James wasn't afraid to tease Joan until his voice gave out, but the name of the game that evening wasn't speed.

It was technique: from the way that he'd so easily put Saul in his place and broken down his privileges, to the way that he rocked and rolled his hips, teasing Joan with the possibility of feeling her brother's cock within her for the first time, it was all about establishing himself at the one who would control the pace and the action, no matter where their collective relationship went from there.

"Can you blame me f-for being a little overwhelmed?"

"Not at all, no...but if that's too much for you, this next part is gonna be a real shocker."

One paw hooked around the front of her thigh, and the other took point at the peak of her rump, settled just under the fluffy, wide base of her tail.

Ever a tease, James lined up the tip of his tapered, vulpine manhood with the parted folds of his own sister's cunt, gliding his own slicked flesh between those petals with a near miss. The very tip kissed her entrance with what seemed to be a misfire, but Joan knew her brother better than to think that he'd miss his mark at such a close range--he was just dragging out the experience for as long as he could, and it was only his own patience he had to outlast.

"The only s-shock is gonna be if you ever actually put that f-fucking cock inside of me," Joan muttered, looking back over her shoulder with pointed frustration. "You've been driving me up the wall since I got here; could I please get some damned relief?"

"You can have some relief when you finally learn to ask like a good girl ," James explained. "I said that I was the one on top, no matter how you two want to shake out your personal relationship, but you...you haven't really treated me like your master yet, Joan."

Sexual frustration was an excellent motivator, for Joan. "Please, then...p-please, Master...would you pound your little sister's pussy?"

"Hmmph. Way to throw the cherry on top at the end, there."

"Only the best for my Master; I know what he likes."

James didn't want to be so easily taken, but he found it nigh impossible to ignore the pressure at the base of his length and the slow, warm ooze of precum spilling away from his tip.

As much as Joan needed relief, he needed some of his own...but just as he warned, that first touch would come with quite the shock.

"Kinda doubting your authenticity, given how easily you rolled into that, but...we'll make a proper switch of you yet," James claimed. "I want you submissive to me at all times, but when it comes to your husband, I don't ever want to see you two fooling around like this. You need to keep him in his place; only your own brother is allowed to pin you down and fuck you like this."

Juices spilled over the middle of James' length as it came up and under those petals anew, and the tip kissed against pouted folds, just an instant before that first act of forbidden penetration.

"James, y-you're...you're in."

Her voice was too addled with disbelief to offer those words the passion that they deserved, but the sudden, lunging thrust of her brother's length and the sneaky, delicate press of his thumb against her tailhole changed all that in her next, shaky breath.

"Oh, o-ooh fuck , you're in!" she cried out, feeling the weight and girth of a male other than her husband for the first time in over a decade. "Didn't even give me a chance to breathe, y-you fucking brute!"

"That was the plan," James confessed. "I'm not here to go easy on you, sis. I'm here to treat you like the breeding stock that you've always been...to show your pet over there how you're supposed to fuck a slutty, horny wolf."

The words stung Saul's ears as much as they tickled Joan's: he couldn't stand hearing someone talk about his wife that way, but she, in turn, was over the moon to hear someone bold and brave enough to degrade her, damning the consequences.

The threat of actually being bred was something that she hadn't properly accounted for, and there was no condom in place; James had no way of knowing that she was on birth control.

"Take...t-take notes, baby," Joan demanded, trying to look back at her husband, but she couldn't see past the overwhelming presence of her dominant brother. "This is the way to g-get it done...this...t-this is the way to make me c...cum...mrrrnf!"

Biting the couch cushion and trying to lean away from her brother's sudden assault, Joan fought, entirely in vain, to try and drag out the incestuous moment for as long as she could.

She didn't want to give up her release so easily, but James saw to it that she'd be on the verge of a climax before she was ever penetrated. A sudden, rapid, decidedly canine pace was stretching her womanhood and forcing her to look for any form of purchase, but even when she drooled into the couch and raked her claws through the offered cushion, she knew that she was wasting her efforts.

A soaking thumb dipped into her asshole and pumped into the spot with a devious intention, offsetting her climax by only a matter of seconds...but they were seconds enough to prolong Joan's sexual frustration and further ensure her obedience to her brother's whims.

"Not even a full minute, and you're already creaming all over my cock...did you ever stop and think about what your master might have wanted?" James asked, adding a layer of mental anguish to that delayed orgasm. "No...not even for a moment, did you?"

Inner walls were already starting to flutter with the familiar, internal clench of an orgasm, but as much of a tease as the pressure of James' thumb proved to be, there was one more trick up his sleeve; Joan hadn't experienced true cruelty yet.

That came when, just at the edge of her release, James stepped back, pulling his soaking length free of Joan's womanhood and leaving her tailhole desperate for anything to take the place of his removed thumb. Every sensation came to a halt when the slow, easy sway of her breasts finally settled, and in the aftermath, she was left grabbing the cushions, biting the fabric...a mere touch away from sinking into untold bliss.

"James, you have to get back in th-

"I don't have to do anything," the hybrid cut her off, grinning wide. "But you have to keep your hands to yourself, remember?"

"Oh, I am going to wring your little neck, you...y-you sorry, miserable deviant!"

"And just for that, you're gonna have to sit on the sidelines a moment longer," James told her. "Sit on your paws again, Joan. You're in timeout."

"...You...y-you think this is some kind of a game?"

"Pretty sure I've made it clear that I take this very seriously, sis--sit on your paws, or I'm gonna tie them up behind your back and leave you on the edge of the couch for the rest of the night."

Being walked back from the brink of such an incredible climax was a greater frustration than Joan had ever known, but that building, collective pleasure was going to create an even stronger release later on.

Believing that was the only thing that kept her obedient, but it was indeed enough: the smaller timber wolf put her trembling digits beneath her rump and sucked in a deep, slow breath, hoping she might be able to calm herself to keep her temper in check.

I could have just fingered myself and gotten the job done, Joan thought. So why...why on Earth am I listening to him? Why am I letting him control me like this?

There could have been any number of reasons, but chief among them was the bold and decisive nature of the foxwolf, taking the lead no matter what the bodies and minds of his partners demanded.

He was confident in everything he did, down to the very turn of looking back to face Saul again. Narrowed eyes stared down the length of a grinning muzzle, and on the other side of it, the once self-assured Saul looked as though he was completely lost at sea, with only James to be his port in the storm.

"Hard to believe that you'd let someone as submissive as my sister get the better of you, but to each their own, I suppose," James shrugged. "We'll work her into a better dominatrix for you, over time...but tonight, we're just gonna get to know each other better."

Saul was gulping back a blend of emotions, their collected lump visible in his throat the entire way down.

"And...how would you propose we do that, Master?"

"You've got the easy job," James assured him. "All you're gonna have to do is lay back and take it, and according to Joan, you're really quite skilled at that."

James was larger than the strap-on toy that Joan picked out, but not so much that Saul was intimidated by the size of it.

It was the organic nature of that cock: throbbing, twitching and bouncing in the air, leaking real fluids, shaped with pliable flesh...that unpredictable nature was what made it seem like such a challenge to take.

"She would know better than I would, Master."

"She was very forthright with that information, and unless she embellished the truth, she said you were enjoying yourself quite a bit, even with that cold, hard plastic. I think you'll find the genuine article to be far more enjoyable than a mere toy."

Everything was happening at just the right pace for Saul to have an appreciation for what was going on, but even then, it was a little too fast for the timber wolf to keep up with.

The very same cock that was just buried in his own wife was still glistening with a coat of her juices, throbbing with as much vitality as it had when it was fully buried in Saul's throat. It felt like a taunt, at the very least, for James to brandish it so boldly, but from his knees, knowing how much his wife had enjoyed the lewd display and the act that followed...

...He felt completely trapped in place, and once more, his body betrayed any doubts he had with a full, leaking erection of his own.

"Come on, then. Into the bedroom, Saul...and Joan?"

"Yes, James?"

"Call me brother, or master, for starters," James corrected her. "But you're coming with us: everything's more fun with an audience, after all."

**

Saul came to rest in the middle of his marital bed with a greater sense of relaxation than he anticipated.

Being able to look to the side at any time and see Joan standing there, watching him with a mingled sense of anticipation and appreciation, it kept him comfortable as his wife and their new, third wheel went to work on his wrists, tying them up to the bedposts and introducing an element of bondage that they'd often talked about, but never actually tried before.

"You know, I was hoping I might have a chance to do this with him on our own, first," Joan said. "But seeing how difficult it is to get these knots just right, I really do appreciate the help, Master."

"I'm surprised either one of you would have any trouble with knots," James teased. "But the way we've got him all tied up now, I can promise you that your boy isn't going anywhere, no matter what we decide to do with him now."

Saul knew he had the chance to ask for a preview of what was coming, beyond the obvious.

Being pegged was great preparation for what he already knew was coming, but he still hadn't figured out how Joan was going to factor in, save for standing on the side and masturbating to the sight of a recently confessed fantasy.

"I know you're going to break him in proper," Joan gave a voice to Saul's curiosities. "But if you really think I can just stand on the side and watch while you do that, Master...you've got another thing coming."

"And if I did tell you to do that, what would you do about it, exactly? Are you really going to protest, Joan? Are you going to go against my wishes?"

Putting her to task and calling her bluff seemed a reliable strategy for James, but this time, Joan was clinging to her defiance: coming so close to an orgasm and being forced to come down from that peak left her absolutely desperate for her next sample.

"I'm trying not to, but Master, I...I really need to cum...I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight if I don't get off!"

"Guess you should have thought about that before you decided to run your mouth," James was, despite the warmth of his touch along Saul's thigh, a cold and calculated master. "Now Saul and I get to have all the fun, and you? You get to stand there and watch...and every time you beg me to let you join in, that's another minute you'll have to stand there and wait."

"And if I just touch myself and get it over with?"

"Then you'll be the one tied up to the bed, while Saul and I go finish things up in the living room."

Joan knew better than to question her brother's sincerity, by then.

Difficult as it was for her to swallow her pride and completely turn the reins over to him, she managed to bite back on what she wanted to say, in favor of leaning over and doing something truly unexpected, for Saul.

Kissing his cheek before she took her place at the side of the bed, she offered him the only token of relief that he'd know, before the evening was through. "You're gonna be just fine, love. You've done so well so far...you've made me so proud."

The full circle experience between a dominant and submissive party wasn't just about one person berating, abusing and controlling the other in a constant cycle. There needed to be moments of equality and reassurance, and thankfully, Joan had done the rest of her homework on the topic before James arrived at their house.

The kiss was reassuring, but it was the tone of her voice and the careful, delicate words that left Saul able to properly relax, even when James was bearing down on him from the far edge of the bed.

"Seems to me that you two are gonna be just fine, with or without my involvement," James commented. "But I'm having too much fun to be turned away right now, and by the look of it, Saul...you're ready to finish what we started."

Nodding silently, the timber wolf looked down and watched a larger cock approaching his lifted rump. The sides of his hips were propped up by a pillow, making it easy for James to kneel there and give the submissive wolf a quick, easy roll to push him into just the right angle for a smooth, easy fuck.

"Can't blame you for feeling a little bashful right now; spread out like this in front of another man while your wife practically drools with anticipation. Just this once, I'll let you nod as an answer, but when I address you, don't forget to call me Master...or next time, I just might forget the lube."

A quick wink didn't help to clear up that message at all: Saul didn't trust that the hybrid was being playful about his intentions, just yet.

Feeling such a heavy and sudden press against the pucker of his asshole, Saul wasn't allowed to drift into his own curiosities. He tensed up right away, but the warmth of natural flesh was easier to adjust to than the rigid, unforgiving weight of a strap-on...and even when he struggled to relax, the more pliable nature of a vulpine cock slipped into his body with greater ease and comfort than the unnatural firmness of a sex toy.

To call it a unique sensation would have undersold it by a leap and a bound, but Saul couldn't think of any better words than that, in the heat of the moment. He could barely remember his own name as inch after inch of vulpine manhood sunk into his tailhole, spreading his anal passage in a way that only his wife had ever dared to try, before.

She actually is drooling, Saul noticed, catching a glimpse of his wife from the corner of his eye. Has she really wanted this for a long time, or is she learning more about herself on the fly, like I am?

Saul was still confident that he was straight--at least mostly--but like so many straight men before him, he could appreciate the subtle pressure of something being pressed into his rear entrance, and the fullness that came with being penetrated from behind.

"She's trained you well in the span of just a week...I thought for sure I was going to have to take it slower than this, but you're taking it like a proper slut, Saul. Probably better than Joan could, if I decided to go for her backdoor!"

The temptation was stronger than ever for Joan to say something, but as she watched her own brother go deeper and deeper into her husband, she found the taboo of the moment to be too arousing to interrupt.

Biting her lower lip and trembling by the side of the bed, Joan could feel a soaking mess forming between her clutched thighs, but she didn't dare tend to her own needs just then. She was playing the long game, and to that end, she had no choice but to believe in her brother and know that her patience would somehow pay off.

"And I'll take hers in due time, but I don't want to look past you, big guy. Your wife was right to praise you: you're taking all of this in stride and doing a d-damn fine job of giving yourself up to me, just like a proper pet."

It wasn't the same to hear it from James--understandably so, given their lack of time together--but Saul could already tell that Joan was going to invite James to be more of a permanent installation in their lives, whether he liked it or not.

To that end, he was enjoying the presence of genuine flesh, penetrating his body...but he was far too bashful to admit the same, especially in front of his own wife.

So much for being the man of the house, he came back to the same concern, his thoughts wandering to how else their lives might change, beyond their bedroom habits. I'm all the way at the bottom of the list now, aren't I?

It was quite the trade to make for the pleasure that was coming his way, but up to that moment, the timber wolf was convinced that he was only a tool for his mistress and master to use to their own ends...he hadn't considered that there would ever be a proper reward for his obedience.

"I'm going to say it now, Saul: you, unlike your wife, have my permission to cum whenever you want," James offered, the weight of his words drawing a gasp from Joan before Saul had a chance to react. "You've behaved well enough to deserve that."

"Even though I'm the one that put him in chastity in the first place?" Joan cut in.

"And you did a wonderful job of building him up for me: his balls are damn near the size of lemons," James teased. "But since you had the brilliant idea to put him in chastity in the first place, I suppose it's only right that you get to reap some of the benefits."

Joan cocked a brow. "Just some?"

"Since you keep forgetting to call me Master, yes , you only get some of them," James countered. "Now, you're gonna be a good girl and take your seat...but until I give you permission, you're not allowed to move...and until I've filled your boytoy here with every drop that I've got, you're not allowed to cum, either...do you understand, sis?"

It was such a harsh punishment that Joan immediately felt the desire to protest, but she was trying her best to see the silver lining: she could enjoy the recoiling force of James' thrusts, just by sitting on her husband's cock.

That she would be allowed to dominate him from above was a fringe benefit enough that she was able to keep her frustrations in check a moment longer. "Yes, Master, I hear you loud and clear," she replied.

Her tone wasn't lost on James, who was enjoying the internal grip of Saul's passage too much to bother with chastising Joan for her attitude.

"In that case, go take your seat and try to behave yourself for the rest of the class," James suggested. "The last thing I need is for another student to mouth off to me while I'm trying to teach..."

Taking his position as the most experienced person in the room rather seriously, James honestly considered himself something of a tutor to Saul and Joan, in that moment.

He was able to move his hips with a natural gait, and to that end, Saul was the main benefactor: where the timber wolf genuinely enjoyed letting his wife pound him with a strap-on, there was a level of practice and poise that came with having the right anatomy to get the job done in the first place.

"I'll do my best to stay quiet, Master...but when my pet starts hitting all the right spots, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my mouth shut," Joan admitted.

The mental thrill was greater when Joan was the one doing the thrusting, but the physical delight, much to Saul's surprise, was far greater when James started into a slow, pleasant rhythm.

The confident and casual pump of hips was simply delightful, and the domineering grip of the hybrid, taking a hold of Saul's ankles, was a form of comfort that the timber wolf hadn't anticipated.

He really knows what he's doing, Saul thought. Makes me wonder how many others he's had in this very same position...and how much better they were than I am.

At the very end of his thought process, Saul found a longer, fuller bead of precum spitting from the tip of his untouched member; his body refused to let him deny that he was excited to explore this new aspect of his personality.

"There's no doubt in my mind that you can't keep your mouth shut, but that's part of the package deal when I'm working with you, isn't it?"

"Go ahead and pretend that you don't love it when your little sister mouths off to you."

"Wasn't going to," James said. "But you go ahead and pretend that you don't love it when your big brother tells you to sit on your husband's cock and behave yourself for once."

It was as twisted a statement as Saul had ever heard, but he, too, was being dragged into the kinky depths by the unusually comfortable siblings.

Precum spat from the end of his length as Joan approached, the sheer volume of those juices prompting another gasp from her.

"Goodness, Saul...y-you...you really are enjoying this, aren't you?" she asked, bewildered to think that her husband could have taken to his submissive role with such ease and comfort. "To think, I was worried that I'd pushed you a little too far, too fast...now I'm starting to wonder if I took it too easy on you from the beginning!"

Saul wanted to shake his head, but words came hard when he was struggling to draw a breath; being so completely filled from behind was presenting challenges that he'd never considered.

"But don't worry, pet: I'm still learning, myself. Still taking notes, still figuring out what I like...if you're able to handle this, there's no doubt in my mind that you'll be able to keep up."

Climbing into the bed and standing right over Saul's cock, Joan wanted to face him, hoping to bring a new layer of passion to the moment.

A tug on her arm stopped her from dropping onto her husband's flesh, when it was finally steady enough for her to do so.

"And just what do you think you're doing, sis?"

"Taking my seat, Master...just like you told me to."

"Did I say that you could face your husband while you rode his cock?"

"You, uh...y-you didn't say I couldn't?"

"You should have known better than to assume that," James warned her. "Now turn around, face your master, and take your seat already. We're well behind schedule."

For the first time that night, Joan was visibly pouting, but she didn't want to show that pained expression to her brother.

It was only a soft, brief smile from Saul that managed to curl her lips again--that visible confirmation that they were in this together, and that he was okay with it--that kept her spirits lifted enough to follow her brother's orders.

"My deepest apologies, Master," she whispered. As she turned, her expression held all the same lust that she'd shown to her husband in her most dominant moments, but this time, she looked as if she wanted her will to be broken. "I'll take my seat, just as you ordered; what else would you have me do for you?"

Her petals sat against the full, tapered tip of her husband's cock as she worked her squatting legs into place, trying to find balance and purchase in the middle of a rickety bed.

Three bodies moving in tandem would make it difficult for Joan to simply slip into place, but there was new bliss to be had in struggling to work her husband's impressive cock beyond her folds.

To finally sneak enough of the shaft inside that she felt confident moving her hips in contrast to her brother's own was such an earthly delight that her pleasure immediately reached for the heavens; she hadn't come down completely from her earlier tease.

"You're not about to cum on your husband already, are you?" James asked, seeing the immediate tremble in her body. "I haven't given you permission yet, Joan...just take your seat and behave yourself."

Saul was larger than his wife, such that she wasn't sure she'd be able to quite literally sit all the way into his lap.

At her brother's behest, she was willing to try, but just working her way down to the middle of his shaft forced a long, slow breath from her lungs: she needed to relax if she was going to tame the beast.

"Yes...M...Master..."

Don't move, Saul, she thought, knowing that he was simply acting as a cocksleeve for her brother, right then. If you fuck me...if you move those hips once , I'm gonna explode!

Until he was given the order, Saul would remain happily dormant, content to try and fight back against his own orgasm in a more passive manner.

The weight of James' length was coming dangerously close to pressing against his prostate--something that Joan hadn't been able to accomplish--and all the while, he could feel the subtle bounce of his own length, carrying the force of James' thrusts up and into Joan's sex without his having to budge in the slightest.

I guess being the bottom does have its perks from time to time, Saul thought. But I don't know how much more of this I can take...James is hitting spots that I didn't know I had!

The bed creaked under the combined weight of three eager bodies, and at the very peak of it all was James, pumping faster than before and working himself into the kind of frenzy that only a fox could accomplish, with the girth and strength of a wolf to boot.

Saul had only an inkling of how fortunate he was to be living out that experience, but his mind was no longer grabbing onto such minute thoughts: there was only the big picture, and the massive load of seed that he was about to paint across the inside of his wife.

"Saul?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Be a good pet and fuck your wife's brains out, would you?" James requested. "She's trying so hard to hold back, but I want to see her struggle a little more: when I hilt myself in you, just start pumping up and into her with everything you've got left!"

There was a knot in Saul's future. He knew that much, but he didn't think that James would be so bold as to shove it in without any other warnings...

...And to that end, it wasn't such a smooth process, as Saul felt the weight and pressure of such incredible girth at his tailhole.

"Oh, o-oh...fuck... fuck! It's t-too big, Master!" he cried out, feeling something more like a pinch than a push at his rear entrance. "I don't know if I can t-take that!"

"Just keep thrusting," James ordered, his own sense of control being pushed to the brink by his impending release. "Pump into that little pincushion y-you call your wife, and we'll both be fine... trust me."

Pressing up from his abs and hips, Saul offered what little range of motion he could from a submissive, compromised position.

"Ooofuck...f-fuck...Saul, that's t-too much!" Joan protested, seeing the bulging outline of her husband's cock against the front of her stomach. "Holy shit, babe, y-you...you're gonna tear me in half!"

That deep, heavy thrust forced his own orgasm to kick in, and the fluttering of his rear entrance finally granted James the access he so desperately sought: the schlip of his knot sealing inside of Saul was lost behind a growing chorus of moans, as two thirds of the party found their way into the throes of orgasmic bliss.

Joan, utterly overwhelmed and struggling to move her quivering thighs, still hadn't been given permission, even when the first gush of a long-delayed orgasm poured into her womb and absolutely flooded her insides.

"Please, Master..."

It wasn't easy for James to keep his moans under control, but he did the best he could, biting back on his ecstasy and gritting his teeth through every breath of his release.

"Please...w-what?" he asked, looking at his whimpering sister through a winced eye. "Speak up, Joan. I want your pet to hear you, too."

"Please, pleasepleaseplease let me c-cum! Let me cum!" the words poured from her as easily as the excess juices spilled away from her petals, soaking her already matted thighs with a new, virile stain. "I can't t-take it anymore, big brother...let me f-fucking cum!"

Her pleas turned to demands as the weight of her husband's full, throbbing cock rattled about inside of her. Inner muscles fluttered around the base of his shaft, making it all too easy for Saul to tie with her at the very peak of the act, and even then, she was grabbing onto her brother's shoulders in a vain and desperate attempt to outlast the natural responses of her body.

"I've never been so tempted to tell you 'no' in my life," James admitted. "To just see you squirming there, sweating and panting like a bitch in heat..."

Joan's claws raked down the front of his chest as he held steady, his own length emptying the last of its juices into Saul's capable backside.

"...But, we already know that you started cumming the moment that your pet knotted you," James called his sister out, having seen a familiar expression on her face before their conversation started. "No point in trying to stop what's already begun: rub that cute, little clit and squirt all over your husband, Joan. Mark him."

Whether it was an order or a piece of advice, Joan followed those words to the last. Still holding her brother with a painfully tight grip, the other paw was twitching in the air before she could bring to the peak of her mound, right against the delicate nub of her clitoris.

A single press of her thumb took her to the next level of pleasure, but she skipped the wide, slow roll of her digit in favor of tight, narrow circles around the point, having already crossed a certain threshold; warming herself up any further would have been a waste of time.

"Holy fuck...h-ho..._ohgods..._I'm cumming, Master!" she tugged at his fur with every bit as much intensity as she cried into his ear, but the greatest response was the internal clutch: the desperate milking of her husband's shaft proved to be the most powerful sensation, and Saul, for his part, couldn't hold back a single drop of his offering. "He's f-filled me up so fucking much...feels like I'm g-gonna burst!"

A small streak of ejaculate leapt from the peak of her womanhood, just as her grip failed her. Her face slumped into her brother's chest for a moment, but as her toes curled into the sheets and her legs completely gave out, she found it much easier to roll back into her husband's tied, helpless body, resting the small of her back against his torso.

Even if it seemed a passive thing, it was as submissive as anything Saul had ever done, as far as she was concerned...acting as a piece of furniture for her to rest against while she considered her next move.

"Gonna be quite the spectacular mess when you two finally come apart," James mentioned. "I suppose you've already trained your pet to clean up your messes when the two of you are done playing, sis?"

"To the b-best of my ability," Joan replied, trying her best to corral her breath and collect her wits. "He does a pretty good job of it, when asked."

"You think he's up to the task of cleaning up his new master's cum?"

The softening of a smaller knot made for an easier time pulling away: James was already loose enough that he could have slipped out of Saul, but feeling the inner grip of Saul's continued orgasm was a pleasure too great to slip away from.

Keeping himself in place, the hybrid watched as seeping, trickling beads of cum slipped free of the gaping entrance. As he softened up that much further, the tie came completely undone, allowing a flood of juices to pour over the edge of the bed, right into the sheets.

Saul didn't relish the idea of having to lick such a massive puddle clean, but then, he was perfectly happy with the taste of his wife's juices.

For everything that came before that moment, the idea of licking up another man's mess was the final hurdle he'd have to come to terms with, that night...and it felt like the highest by quite a margin.

"I've got a feeling he won't have much of a choice in the matter, will he?" Joan asked.

She was bewildered by just how much of a mess was pouring back out of her husband, and knowing where it had been, even she was a little uncertain about running her tongue through the bulk of such a load...but she didn't think James was going to enlist her help.

It would be another test for Saul, and another nudge in the right direction, to help him adjust to his new role as the pet of the house.

"I know I've got the final vote, but at the end of the day, he was your pet first," James reminded her. "If you don't think he'd be up for that yet, you can give him the rest of the night off...but this mess still needs to be taken care of."

As she felt the weight and volume of her lover's seed sloshing around inside of her smaller frame, Joan couldn't help wondering if she would have been up for the task, herself. The taboo of it being her own brother's seed, and the fact that it had come from her husband's tailhole weren't lost on her, but as much as they might have been a detriment to some, she was aroused by both realities.

"...Saul...I want you to know that I'm offering this to you as a one-time courtesy," Joan whispered. "We'll just wash the sheets tonight; goodness knows they'll need a good spin cycle once you pop out of me...but next time, you're gonna have to put that tongue to good use on both of us."

It was an order much easier to follow, and far more alluring to Saul, who found himself on the brink of exhaustion after such an emotionally taxing and physically draining night.

"But...I mean it sincerely: this is a one-time courtesy," Joan continued her thought. "Don't take my kindness for granted, love...you'll sincerely regret it."

Anymore, Saul had no reason to doubt his wife's capabilities, but she still had plenty to learn, and James still had plenty to teach her.

"I couldn't have asked for a sweeter Mistress," Saul answered her, knowing that she would have demanded a response from him, if he didn't give one of his own will. "I'll...I'll do the best I can for you, Mistress. Whatever that ends up meaning for me."

Joan was caught in her own moment of juxtaposition, wanting to carve her own path to dominance without too much outside influence, but she couldn't deny that the allure of having her brother involved was turning into a quick addiction.

"I know you will, pet..."

She'd try her best to keep James around as just the devil on her shoulder, but there were so many other parts of her body that craved his touch...