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"Would it please You, Master?" The dainty, submissive little voice echoed throughout the dark room.

"My pleasure comes from your service to Me," the black furred lupine said quietly, his body adorned in expensive, designer clothing. These garments not customary to the role of a Master, but attractive and somehow still commanded respect and displayed a degree of subtle dominance with grace and elegance.

"Yes, Sir," the voice responded, knowing what that meant. The thin feline stood before him dressed in nothing but a collar and a pair of almost non-existent underwear, his modestly sized sheath bulging slightly behind the thin layer of black silk that covered it, but not daring to show any signs of arousal. His facial marking and the dark brown spots that covered his body were almost like that of a leopard, but his frame, size, and the more pointed shape of his ears and muzzle indicated otherwise.

An ocelot, how exotic! The wolf had thought when he had first purchased the slave from an underground market for trained, willing slaves. This particular feline, however, proved to be more than he had bargained for in only good ways. After undergoing months of training, by the time that slaves were placed in the paws of their new owners they were proficient at worst in almost every aspect of the pleasure slave game.

As the slender bodied feline gracefully moved his body towards the wolf's, the lupine's muzzle developed a sort of smug, dominant smirk, the kind of half-friendly yet intimidating-as-can-be grin that only a true lupine can pull off. The wolf's cock was already pulled out from his tight jeans and hanging erect in front of the ocelot, whom proceeded to wrap his supple lips around the very tip of the wolf's throbbing member. The feeling of the feline's hot breath combined with the enveloping warmth of the ocelot's stout muzzle exciting a short moan in pleasure. This slave was certainly better than most of what had come his way, excellent even (in comparison, godlike).

The two had hit it off right away, finding a lot of common interests even outside the boundaries of a Master and his pet. A good slave is hard to find, a good friend... well, those are rare. To find a combination of both in one sexy body, the wolf thought, that's nearly absurd! Things were progressing so very well, the slave had come to him with a polished knowledge and a tediously trained skill in submitting... What the wolf wanted to mould him into for "customized" use was done easily and gracefully by both parties involved.

The feline stifled a purr, trained to not make any sounds of pleasure unless pleasure was specifically granted as a reward for good behavior. He was also trained to make sounds of pleasure on command even during the harshest of punishment, or sounds of pain, or despair, or anything else that his Master desired. This, however, was a different kind of pleasure for the ocelot. Granted, he thought, it's no dressage whip or spiked cockring... but damn did he love to suck cock. He was good at it too, he knew he was, but always remained modest in this fact, like a good slave.

"Very good boy," the wolf said, calmly and softly as ever despite his heightened heart and breathing rate. The praise excited a quiet, appreciative, and most assuredly submissive mew from the exotic feline. The ocelot wrapped his warm maw around the lupine's throbbing member once more, pressing the shaft between lips and applying just the right amount of pressure to draw a short sigh of pleasure from the wolf. "Finish me," he mandated and sat back to watch the actions of his commands, "We need to leave soon."

There is a leash that cannot be broken by force, there is a leash not made of leather and chain. There is a leash between the Master and the pet that cannot be seen... with every tiny interaction, with every conversation... Every fuck and every dirty word uttered in degradation... With every violent lash of a dressage whip, that leash is pulled tighter to the paw of the Master. If the Master does his job, the pet walks delicately towards him... Though, sometimes things are a bit more difficult and involve a lot of stumbling and tripping over one's own hindpaws.

"What the FUCK did you send me?" the voice of a tiger echoed throughout the room and into the small flip-style mobile phone.

"Calm down, Mr. Jenkins," the reply came in a soft, non-agitated tone despite the yelling on the other end of the phone, "We made you a deal, and we sold you one of our trainees at an /extremely/ low cost. You received precisely what you paid for. We're not a huge organization, we're understaffed and we have tenfold more applicants than we have trainers. You asked for a slave with potential to be trained, and that's what we sent you."

"This... /slave/ you sent me sounds like somebody that came out of a shitty fetish porno!" the tiger was still obviously agitated despite the calm and soft demeanor of the fox he was talking to on the phone. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to remember that he was talking to a technical superior, "Look, sir, I'm sorry that I'm frustrated... But 'I'm a bad boy, please punish me master' is something I'd expect to hear from a cheap street slut... Not a "potential" professional pleasure slave that I paid a couple of stacks for."

"Our trained slaves sell for well over 10,000 on a regular basis. We're a small operation because we do things right, and we prefer keeping it that way," the fox remained calm as ever, his tone not changing once throughout the whole conversation despite the enunciation roller-coaster that the tiger had escalated and descended through. "The best I can do for you is offer you the number of a colleague/mentor of mine, he recently purchased one of our high-end pleasure slaves and apparently has taken him even further than when he left our academy. He's been known to train slaves for associates of mine, but I wouldn't be able to tell you if he has an opening at this very moment. He does charge, but I can tell you that his services will run you significantly less than fully-trained slaves direct from us would. Are you interested in that, Eric?"

"You're running me broke, Stephen."

"I know. Off the professional record, though... I miss you," the fox said, his tone finally switching from calm and collected with a professional edge to calm and collected with a sincere, passionate edge.

"I miss you too, what was that number?"

The fox sighed a little, "I owe you one, actually. My M--" he coughed to cover up the slip, "Ah, excuse me. My mentor is actually going to be visiting for the weekend, as I said he had recently purchased one of our slaves so they decided to stop by for a visit. I'll talk to him for you."

The former lovers exchanged pleasant goodbyes and disconnected. The fox sat at his desk, letting the phone slip lifelessly from his paw, "It still feels weird not telling you that I love you... Two years? Suddenly you decide you can't stand being submissive?" he said quietly and to himself before starting more paperwork.

The jet black furred wolf pulled into the parking lot of the Academy, really just an average than larger home out close to the middle of nowhere, where nobody could hear the screams of the willingly tortured and abused slaves that howled out into the silent night air. The wolf tucked his cock back into his jeans, he had gotten off before they had left... but decided that he wanted to once more on the way to the training ground, a very, very long drive. "Out," he commanded to the ocelot sitting neatly and cutely in the passenger seat... now dressed in a long silky top and a pair of tight leather hotpants, his padlocked collar still fastened securely around his delicate throat.

The wolf stepped out of his car, a two door sedan as equally jet black as the lupine's fur and just as well kept. He began to walk towards the house, it's elegant stone sidewalk feeling a bit out of place under his bare feetpaws. His slave followed behind him at just the correct distance, keeping his steps graceful as he obediently followed the lupine like the loyal pet he was. Three knocks on the door were met with a brief moment of silence, and then the sliding of a chain lock and the chunky report of a dead bolt being unlocked. The door pushed outward and standing before the two furs was an average height fur with a slender body covered by a black leather harness, a pair of tight jeans adorned the new face's lower body. The lupine had recognized this particular species as a marbled polecat... Wow, he thought, Stephen really has been outdoing himself with the exotic species lately...

"Greetings, Sir." The butler of the house said politely, "Master Stephen is expecting the both of you." A polite bow accompanied the inviting voice. The mustelid glanced up at the wolf, "Please, come in."

As they walked over the threshold of the modernly decorated living space, they felt immediately enveloped in a sense of a rich sort of essence filling the air. This was obviously a house in which a lot of emotions were running rampant... the power they felt as they entered was thick and aged, some of it. Some of it was fresh and confused... no matter, it all felt quite overwhelming for the first few moments, at least to the Ocelot... who had already spent quite some time in this house. They were guided by the ambiguously subservient polecat through a series of hallways, finally coming to a set of wooden doors. To the left of it, a small button which the mustelid pressed with his index digit, "Yes?" the voice came from the small speaker.

"Mister Clark and Ryan are here, Sir."

The door clicked mechanically at the press of a button on the other side, the butler opened it and the men entered the room. The room itself was elegant in almost every sense of the word, lavish soft burgundy carpet cushioned their feetpaws as they walked towards the desk at the far end of the office. The fox was turned around in his leather chair, filing through a cabinet of papers and dossiers. The ocelot remembered the room well, the whole house in fact. The polecat padded over and stood quietly next to the desk, his paws properly secured behind his back.

These guys seem intense... the polecat thought to himself in regards to the wolf and the ocelot, the thought crossing his mind for but a brief moment before his focus was brought back to his perfectly still posture. He was new to this house, recently hired and rigorously trained by Stephen as the butler for the Academy. "Butler", however, proved to mean being everything from the laundry person to the fox's own secretary. He didn't complain, though, he was paid well /and/ he had a passionate submissive side himself. He watched as the fox turned around in his chair... immediately the room became thirty times quieter. The wolf's eyes pierced the fox's, and the entire mood of the quaint little officeroom shifted over. The fox, a dominant of this house and the one that had trained both of the slaves present in the room... suddenly seemed to cower back a little in his seat. "Hello, Stephen," the wolf said quietly, "How long has it been? Five years now?".

The fox shifted a bit in his seat, hiccupping a word and for the first time breaking his usual fluid enunciation. "Hello..." he hesitated, "Thomas."

The wolf shot him a glance that felt like it stabbed through the fox's eyes and down through his body to the soles of his feetpaws. He gasped audibly, "I... er..." he stumbled with his words, almost completely out of character for the fox, "Hello... Master." He muttered quietly, more assuredly and obviously ashamed... But whether it was due to embarrassment or due to failing to not properly address his Master was completely ambiguous, it could have been either one.

Both the ocelot and the polecat blinked, the mustelid shivered a bit despite his best efforts to keep his infallible stance. Dominants and submissives, especially skilled ones, have a keen sense of power. This power was different and intense, if not a bit awkward for the two slaves /not/ involved... The fox that they remember whipping them until they bled profusely, the /same/ fox that they remember growling at them for making mistakes, sometimes accompanied with a hard slap across the muzzle or a beating from one of the many torture devices in the house... That fox was now under the control of someone else, and they knew this fact ever so well... The energy they felt exchanged between the two was bold, it was elegant and graceful and ever so aged. It was what every slave and every Master desired, and it was almost emotionally overwhelming to witness. The kind of dominance that doesn't need words, looks and emotions were enough.

"Do you remember just how long it's been, boy?" the wolf barked warmly.

"Five years, three months, two weeks, and three days, Sir." The fox responded quietly.

"Four days," the wolf replied even softer.

"As You say, Master."

The exchange was passionate; the ocelot standing behind his Owner shivered at the sight of him with complete control over his former trainer... the one that sold him to the wolf. "Have you been being good?" the wolf asked quietly.

"Master has one of my works... I hope that I have pleased him, and thusly have been "good"." Stephen actually thought that Ryan was one of his better trainees, and would have said more in praise of the polecat, but that would be taken as self-absorbed banter by the wolf. He was trained to speak as little in favor of himself as possible when in the presence of this wolf, how they both liked it. The fox was good at telling other people what to do, because so very few knew how to get him to make him submit. One, in fact.

The wolf turned his neck around and glanced at the ocelot, his long hair flowing down and brushing across his muzzle before being jerked away from the lupine's dark brown eyes. He turned back to the fox and smirked, "You've done very good, boy."

The fox lowered his eyes, his ears folding back submissively in appreciation, the old feelings rushing back to him like an intense flood of emotion... Suddenly, it became easier to speak, "Thank You, Master."

It feels weird, Stephen thought, calling him Master again... I know I mean it... He /was/ the first person I've ever called Master... And as of yet the only one, but it's just been so long... And I have a personal slave now, and a majordomo of my Academy... And I still have feelings for Eric, somehow, that asshole... This is fucked up, the vulpine contrived as a conclusion to his clusterfucked train of thought, but somehow he wanted it... He needed it more than anything he'd ever needed or wanted before. He needed to belong, not to a group, not to society, to his Master.

"You're dismissed from proper verbal behavior, boy," the wolf said, wanting the fox to revert to talking business for a minute, "You tell Me that you have someone that wants Me to train something you pawned off to them?"

The fox coughed and audibly cleared his throat, "Er... With no disrespect intended, I wouldn't quite put it like that. An associate of mine, Eric, couldn't afford a trained slave, so I sold him one of our trainees at /damn/ near cost. I... owe him a favor." The fox said softly, his eyes tilting up to meet his Master's.

"I must say that I'm pleased with what you've sent Me," the ocelot kept his eyes lowered and didn't make a sound, though the lupine's words sent a rush of warmth through his body. The wolf continued, "your training probably matches or succeeds mine nowadays. Though as for your... friend. I'll make his trick into something worthwhile, tell him 3500 is as low as I'll go.. I'll need at /least/ 6 weeks."

The vulpine also began to glow with comforting warmth at the wolf's praise, the lupine seemed to have a way with that. "Yes, Sir. Thank you. I'll let Eric know as soon as I speak with him next."

The polecat standing to the side of the "action" knew something was happening here, he could feel it... Perhaps he felt a bit envious of the rich power that filled the room, but he couldn't think about that now... Whatever this was, it was important, and if he fucked it up Stephen would either beat the living hell out of him or fire him... Probably both. Or would he? Is this wolf breaking our Master? Who is this guy, anyway? The mustelid paused that train of thought to consider the alternative, specifically remembering the time Stephen tied him to the vulpine's own bed with hundreds of feet of soft, crimson red rope and whipped his stomach with a riding crop until he bled. No, the polecat reconsidered, I don't think he'd let a fuck up slide...

The vulpine stood up, keeping his head lowered as he padded around his desk and stood next to his Master. "If You would so desire, Sir, I would be delighted to take You around the Academy, I know You haven't seen it in its entirety yet."

The wolf reached his paw out and tilted the vulpine's muzzle upwards so that the fox's eyes locked onto his. The wolf smiled warmly and sent him a piercing gaze with his nearly-black eyes, the fox smiled back and a single tear began to drip down his right eye... In traditional BDSM practice, the right side of the body is used to indicate submissiveness. In the famous hanky code, for instance, a handkerchief of black color adorning the right pocket means the wearer is a heavy SM bottom, the left, a heavy SM top. When marks of ownership are carved into the flesh of subs, the side of the body which the mark is made is almost always relative to the sub's position below the person marking them (the Master's name carved into the right side of the sub's body).

The wolf remembered all of these tiny little facts and a million more as he watched the tear drip down from his beloved pet's right eye. The wolf wanted to shed a tear of his own when the glistening eye glanced up to him and the muzzle below it spoke quietly, but assuredly, a bit hesitantly but obviously something he had wanted to say for all of these years... The wolf's protective gaze finally making him sure enough to say it without the wolf having to say it first, at least out loud, "I love You too... Master..."