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Rike couldn't help but grin at the obvious irony as he sat in Crossroads and listened to "Into Your Hands" while massaging his hardon through his conservative khakis. He looked around one last time to make sure he was safe, confirmed it, and promptly shot into his fingers behind the zipped-up fly. Not two seconds after the last spasm, two little kids came racing around the corner, playing grab-ass and not sparing the buck even the briefest of glances. Then again, that was the whole point, wasn't it?

Rike came to the Crossroads Cafe because it offered him solace from the busy, noisy world outside. Not even his modest downtown apartment could compete with the amount of sound reduction the space provided. Nestled in the basement of an old transistor radio factory, it had been re-purposed some years ago as a non-profit Christian coffeehouse and meeting place for families, friends and young people. It also had free Wi-Fi, secluded rooms (like the one he was in now, furnished with donated couches and recliners) and the perfect cover for a male who went by the screen name "subb20pt." And, after all this time chatting with the denizens of TheServiceSector.com, he could still make people laugh with his old standard joke about being liked for the size of his rack.

The two kids ran back through the corridor, well-behaved despite their inability to sit still. Too quickly, the warm slickness between Rike's fingers combined with his diminishing afterglow was starting to make him uneasy. Pulling a handkerchief from his left pocket, he surreptitiously wiped himself clean and, unable to find a side that wasn't soiled, settled for stuffing it in the backpack sitting next to him on the sofa.

His laptop beeped softly. "ass_o_nine" was still on the other end of the chat window. "You lose it?" he had typed, referring to Rike's load.

"Sure did, Sir," the buck replied, making sure he hit the shift key for that second S. Sir didn't like it when his moniker wasn't capitalized. And when Sir was displeased, he punished his "pet." Most of the time that consisted of a string of chastising slurs. Every once in a while, though, Sir would just reach for his own laptop's power button and hold it down, terminating the cam session and, with it, any chance of Rike getting off that night.

It wasn't like the buck wore a sheath lock or anything...not yet; at first he had balked at the idea of denying himself after he'd pissed Sir off. He would just open up his porn folder and set a slide show until he got his satisfaction. But, slowly, over the past few months, digging deeper into the world of TheServiceSector had changed his perception of satisfaction. Getting off didn't seem to be enough anymore.

"Good boy," said Sir. "I can almost see that ass wiggling around right now." Which would have been the truth; Rike couldn't wag much, but he could approximate it by adding his hips to the limited movement of his tail. The praise was such a Pavlovian trigger by now that he had to check himself when he was in surroundings more public than Crossroads. It wasn't that uncommon to see a gay whitetail in a Starbucks, but it was uncommon to see one wiggling around like a puppy with a laptop in front of him, webcam clipped to the top of the screen like it was now.

Rike smiled at the lens. "Awwrrruff!" he typed. "Giraffe?"

"Giraffe," Sir replied. The safe word had, by now, lost any trace of the silliness that Rike had felt the first few times he'd used it. Though it wasn't as much a safe word as a trigger to start and end their role play sessions. Once _Giraffe_was invoked, the world around Rike ceased to exist for the most part. It was just him and Sir, and Sir could do anything he wanted until one of them closed the session by restating the word. On this day, Sir had deigned to slowly turn Rike into a dog, and the buck had lasted all of ten minutes before he'd had to catch his load so it didn't bleed through the front of his pants.

"That was pretty damn awesome," Rike said. Giraffe_also meant the end of silence; once in the RP all talking was forbidden. At first, Rike didn't believe it made a difference, but the separation of communications had added to the realism. As real as it could be through the Internet, of course. "I don't know how you do it, Bill." Sir's real name was Rufus Williams, but he made it clear that anything but "Bill" would get Rike killed, even after the end of _Giraffe.

"I'm not the only one doin' it," the donkey said, smiling. "I can supply the material, and the leadership, but the rest is in your head. You might not think it, but your brain is doing most of the work here. I can type words all day long, but you're the one rubbin' that cock."

Rike sat back on the couch. "Pretty soon, I hope to be rubbing yours." It hadn't taken long after he'd met Bill that he'd figured out "ass_o_nine" referred to species and cock length, respectively. Bill had verified this with a tape measure one night during a strip tease for Rike's benefit, out of character for once, and ever since then the buck had wanted to see it for himself, in person. That date was quickly approaching.

"Pretty soon," Bill chuckled, showing his oversized incisors. "Though I still don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Do I still sound naïve?"

"Sometimes," the donkey said, leaning back in his La-Z-Boy, the old chair creaking under the weight of his frame. "I don't doubt you have the passion, and the interest, but it takes a special kind of person for this. I'm not sure you fully understand yet." He crossed his fingers over his belly, twiddling them slowly.

Rike stared at the screen for a moment, thinking. Bill was looking at him without really watching him, something he was very good at. After those first few feverish sessions, Bill had started asking questions: why he liked the idea of being tied up and abused, what aspects about it that aroused him, if he was into pets and masters as well as straight-up domination and submission. And the donkey had gotten him to think about that, and for about a week there was almost no playing, just talking. Through Bill, he had found out a lot more about himself, and the triggers behind his fetishes, than he thought he knew.

"If I didn't want to take it seriously," Rike said, leaning in, "I wouldn't be wanting to meet you and see for myself."

Smiling, Bill replied, "Alright, I have to give you that much." But then he turned serious: "Just don't blame me if you get in over your head. Once you get in that door, the only thing that'll bring you back into the real world is Giraffe. I know what you're thinkin', but you might have to use it anyway."

"I understand." Rike nodded, a bit downcast. It was true that Bill ran their sessions with a heavy hand, and sometimes he was downright cruel, but Rike didn't have a problem with it and he played along, getting off just the same at the end of it all. And when Giraffe arrived, he never felt mistreated or abused. Then again, he had yet to have a finger laid on him. Saying he was nervous was an understatement, but those nerves fought a constant battle with anticipation.

"I just want to make sure you're prepared," said Bill.

"I don't think anything could really prepare me, other than hands-on experience."

"No, I know you're right." The donkey leaned back in toward the camera, the end of his muzzle bumping it and sending the image off-kilter before he straightened it back up. "And I trust that you're in a place mentally where you can process what's going to be going on. I don't want another Andrew on my hands." Andrew had been a wolf bodybuilder who was heavily into the bondage scene, and when he expressed interest in being a pet for Bill, the donkey had accepted. The first night, Andrew had had a nervous breakdown in his cage, and the EMT's had had to tranquilize him in order to extricate him. The wolf disappeared after a psychiatric evaluation, and the donkey withdrew from the scene entirely for a year. And that was four years ago.

"No way," said the buck, his face set. "I wouldn't do that to you. I respect you too much to not know myself going into this."

"You better respect yourself, first," Bill said, to which Rike nodded. Bill always knew what to say. Always in control. "Okay, I need to turn in. Up before dawn again, you know."

"Okay. I probably won't get to talk to you again before the weekend, but I have your address."

"Only if you're sure about it. I need you to come prepared." Rike thought about making a joke, but it would have been tasteless at best.

"If I'm having doubts, I'll let you know." Bill seemed, for a moment, to be evaluating the truth of the buck's words, but he finally nodded back.

"Good. You have a good night now," the donkey said, just before the window went black. When Rike closed his laptop, he was startled as the two kids ran right past the end of the room where he was sitting. For a while there, it had felt downright private in that room. And just thinking about the weekend was causing his sheath to rise once again. Swearing under his breath and getting to his feet, he checked for stains and inappropriate bulges. Finding neither, he packed up and headed for his car, grinning at the unknowing people around him.

The hardest part of the rest of the week was Rike cutting himself off two days before his trip out to Bill's place. Having been used to at least two sessions a day, the buck found his thoughts distracted almost to the point of interfering with his job. But he sucked it up and settled for cold showers and warm fantasies, forcing his hand away when it wandered where it wasn't supposed to. As it turned out, his schedule didn't allow for any online time at all, and the anticipation of Friday served to heighten his sensitivity to even the light rustle of cloth between his legs. It was a pleasant, constant thing.

Rike packed his bags Thursday night. It wasn't until he had them on the bed that he realized he had no idea what to bring to a bondage session. Clothes would be optional, but still most likely necessary. Toiletries were a given, but beyond that the buck decided it wasn't all that different from a weekend visit to a friend's house. He even considered his modest collection of toys before deciding it would be better to leave things in the capable hands of the donkey.

Friday passed quicker than Rike expected, his anxiety tempered by anticipation. So much so, in fact, that all he could think about as he pulled up in front of Bill's nondescript ranch house was being tied up and going down on that massive meat.

As Rike gathered up his bags and locked his SUV, he noticed how quiet the neighborhood was, how unassuming. The sun, little more than an hour from setting, cast long languid shadows over the street. The voices of playing children wafted from around the corner, and the buck could almost feel what the first residents here felt when they moved in, back in the 1960s. All he had to do was imagine smaller trees and bigger cars. Even now, it was peaceful and organized.

The porch light came on, pointless against the sunlight, as he walked up the brick-lined stairs. Rike heard the doorbell within the house when he pressed a fingertip to the button, the familiar Westminster quarters. Moments later a shadow appeared through the translucent amber glass, approaching the door. And then the door opened, and Rike's heart leaped up from his chest into his throat when he saw the donkey in real life for the first time.

"Hi!" the buck said, feeling his lips stretch in an involuntary smile, and before he could say anything else the donkey stepped over the threshold and enveloped Rike in a tight bear hug that squeezed the air right out of his lungs.

Bill pulled away and grinned back. "Hey there. I see you found the place okay."

"Yeah, it was easy enough." Rike shifted his duffel higher up on his shoulder. The donkey was shorter than he had imagined, but it wasn't really a surprise given how hard it was to judge height over a web cam. Still, even standing in the doorway, his bulk filling the frame, he exuded an air of authority, something subconscious that made the buck aware of choosing his words carefully. This time, he didn't have a backspace key. He stood there, shifting from hoof to hoof, looking down before he realized how transparently submissive he probably looked.

Thick-nailed fingers lifted his chin to meet the donkey's gaze. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"If you're not ready, Rike, I'll understand." It was so unexpected that the buck actually had to catch himself twice before knowing how to respond.

"I didn't come this far to back out without even trying."

The donkey's grey-hazel eyes locked on his own. "I know you didn't, but I need you to be sure you know what you're giving up once you step into this house. You get inside, and you belong to me for the weekend. You are not your own man. I think for you, I make decisions for you, I control every part of you."

"That's what _Giraffe_is for, right?"

Bill shook his head slightly, grinning again. "Sure, but it's the end of the weekend. You say that word, and you go home. It's not something you can use to take a break when you don't feel like it anymore. That's the difference between a fetish and a lifestyle."

"I need to find out, at least. This is the only way I can think of."

Bill patted the buck on the shoulder that wasn't holding his bags. "Alright. I trust you, but you're going to have to trust me in everything I do. It's for your own good." Rike swallowed and nodded, his smile never faltering, though his nerves were making it difficult. "Then come into my world," the donkey said, stepping aside with an open palm toward the door. And the buck walked right on through.

The first thing he smelled was tension, pungent and bitter to his muzzle. He could smell sex, too, but even that was tinged at the edges with a certain unease. Rike was in the middle of a spacious living room; he could see the kitchen up ahead, and an open door that seemed to lead down to the basement. The décor was a few years old, but inoffensive and kept up nicely.

After the tension and sex, there was tiger. Rike could smell it even before he made the full turn back to the door and saw the orange and black fur. And leather, lots of leather. Harness, mitts, a pup mask, and little else. Bill had made no mention of having someone else over for the weekend, and to be honest, it kind of pissed him off. He wasn't really in the mood to share his fantasy with another "pet," not for his first time. The tiger just stood there with a thick collar in his paws, from which dangled a shiny bone-shaped tag with "Rike" engraved on it.

"Who's _this_guy?" As soon as the words came out, Rike caught movement out of the corner of his eye just before his vision exploded in a sea of stars and pain. The world spun, the buck moaned, but his voice was a million miles away. He thought he heard Bill saying something, but it was all garbled and he couldn't make it through the ringing on the left side of his head. When he felt finger pads on his neck, he opened his eyes. The tiger was kneeling over him, taking his pulse.

"Oh, don't bother, he's fine," Bill said dismissively, closing the door and stepping over the buck before addressing him. "Who he is, is none of your fucking business at the moment. You stepped over the threshold, and you talked out of turn."

"What the fuck? What happened to Giraffe starting things off? Don't I even--" Rike was cut off with a hoof to his chest, right over the diaphragm. Air left his lungs in a deep whoosh and he lay, curled up and wheezing, clutching his gut.

"Get him ready," the donkey said to his accomplice, who reached behind the buck's antlers and snatched something from the table. Rike couldn't do much in the way of moving, which wasn't necessary as the tiger brought a pair of scissors to the buck's belly and began cutting his shirt right up the middle. Soon it was nothing more than rags, and the tiger started on his jeans. Rike considered asking for an explanation, but thought better of it. Somehow, he knew he would only get more pain.

"I warned you," Bill said, his voice something completely different from anything he'd used in their online sessions. It was cold, domineering. His face was drawn downward in a leering smirk. His eyes were still warm behind it all, though. Somehow. "After you get in my house, you belong to me. You already know Rule Number One: you don't talk unless you are given permission. You don't eat unless I give you food. You don't drink unless I give you water. You don't _anything_without my say-so. Just like in our little role plays. Except it's a lot more real, isn't it?"

Rike nodded and said nothing, as the tiger cut down to the end of his jeans and they fell away from his body in tatters. His boxers came next, unceremoniously, and he found himself feeling humiliated by being exposed so quickly, so emotionlessly. It occurred to him that, had he seen this coming, he would have worn less expensive clothes. But at the same time, there was no way he could have predicted this. Any of this. He certainly hadn't expected to be on the floor of the donkey's home, coughing and naked as his bags and clothes were gathered up by a tiger in pup gear and taken away. The collar was all that was left, and Bill picked it up.

"Now, come here," he said. Rike started to stand, but the donkey shoved him over with a hoof. His rack slid along the table's surface, leaving deep scratches. "Rule Number Two, or at least it'll suffice as such: nobody walks on two legs in this house but me or those I give exceptions to. That's not you, right now." The buck nodded. "So, come here."

It actually took some effort to get back onto all fours, gasping through tears and snot. But he was already learning lessons, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if he couldn't make it over to Bill. The donkey was kneeling with the open collar in his hands, watching Rike for what he would do. Drawing in a deep breath (as much as he could, anyway), he crawled slowly over to Bill, his head hung low, his mind racing at a mile a minute. When he reached the donkey, he stopped, and the next thing he felt was a gentle constriction around his neck and the decisive click of a small padlock at the back.

"Good boy," Bill murmured as he drew the buck up close and held him, stroking between his ears and down his back.

Rike broke down. He just couldn't help it, and he honestly didn't know how else to process his emotions. In the space of five short minutes, his life had been turned completely upside-down. And he was mad at himself for blubbering like this, because it meant he hadn't been prepared after all. Not for this. Bill had been right: this really was nothing like their Internet chats.

In spite of his inability to process everything as quickly as it came, Rike was learning things about himself he never could have known without Bill's help. Like how, when crawling the length of the living room, the buck not once looked up into his new master's eyes, as if it was some forbidden challenge. And how he knew he deserved the punishment he'd gotten for his unknowing insubordination. And how, despite his crying in the donkey's thick arms, he was immensely turned on just from the close comforting contact. He realized his hips were rolling slightly and stopped, though there was no way Bill couldn't have noticed.

"I felt that," the donkey said, reaching around Rike's belly and down between his legs, where he found the hard, thin shaft already protruding. The heat of blush burned the buck's cheeks, drying the tracks of his tears there. "What, you thought it wasn't going to happen? I thought this is what you came here for." Rike wanted to qualify that statement; it wasn't the only thing he'd come for, but he'd rather have the donkey's words in his mouth than be punished again. And he'd _much_rather keep that hand on his cock, stroking as gently as the words coming out of Bill's muzzle. "When was the last time you came, boy?"

Rike was afraid to say anything.

"Speak, boy."

"Wednesday," the buck croaked instantly, eager to comply with the order. A rush accompanied the word, as if he were free for just that moment, and passed just as quickly. He heard Bill rumble low in his gut, felt it all through his own skull.

"So, this is feeling pretty good for ya then." Rike nodded emphatically. He wanted to come badly, but if the donkey decided this wasn't the time for it, he was prepared for that too. It just meant a bigger payoff later. But Bill cupped his sheath and stroked it back and forth, solidifying his squeezing, making the buck moan and open his eyes.

Though his vision was half-obscured by the donkey's chest, he could see the pup-tiger across the room, leaning against the corner of the wall. Watching. Smiling through his mask. Cupping his own junk appreciatively, though it was obscured and rendered inaccessible by a sheath locker.

The donkey's left arm held the buck in a kneel, his legs spread, his other hand milking Rike's erection. "I know you've had a long day, Rike, but do you think you could come for me? Before I put you down for the night, I'd like to get some of that tension outta you, so you can sleep well. Sound like a plan?"

Rike nodded into Bill's big, round belly. Bill's pace increased, and the buck shuddered bodily.

"Then come, boy." Time ceased to have meaning as Rike closed his eyes and focused on exactly what was happening. His first official action as a new "pet" was to sit there in the middle of the living room and bust his nut. Pleasing his master was as easy as his own pleasure, at least for now. Bill's strokes were a bit rougher than what usually got him off, but it was Bill's hand getting him closer to climax. Bill was clutching him, watching for his body to tense before he shot, controlling damn near everything. And the tiger's watching added to it all, though Rike knew he was a bit of an exhibitionist even before coming over here.

The donkey was interminably patient, just like online. There had been nights where it had taken an hour or more for the conversation to reach its peak, Bill having built himself up so slowly that by the time he came it was a treat, a typical equid gusher that had required a bath towel to clean up. Each time Rike reached a new plateau, he was given murmured encouragement, never forceful. And when the buck felt the donkey's other hand move beneath his tail and apply pressure there, it was over. He writhed and bore back onto the intrusion, wishing it would go in but shooting all over Bill's carpet before it did. It was just too much. Afterward, he collapsed against the donkey, panting and sweaty.

"That was quite impressive," Bill said, standing up. "I think that's more than I've ever seen from you. Good job." Rike got a pat on the head for his efforts and he smiled, too tired to do much else. "Pup, could you put him to bed while I clean up?"

There was no answer, save for the light clinking of metal as the tiger came over to them. A flash of orange and white, and then he was hoisted into big, strong arms, the scent of feline and leather replacing Bill's earthy musk. He found himself vaguely aware of his own legs bouncing limply as they descended a staircase into the basement, which was darker and cooler than the upstairs had been. A wire mesh door was opened for him and he crawled through, too tired to process any of it. The door latched shut, and he was down for the count.

Rike's sleep was deep and dreamless, and when he woke up it took a few minutes for him to realize two things: he wasn't in his own bed, or any bed for that matter; and it was the first time he'd woken up naturally in quite some time. No alarm to jar him awake. He blinked twice and was conscious; it was a nice change.

It was still dark outside, but the buck's night vision showed him fuzzy details in the dim blue-grey hue from the partial moon outside. He was curled up on a soft bed within a cage just large enough not to be cramped, but too small to do anything but crawl around. So small, in fact, that when he tried to lift his head, his antlers rattled against the bars. Rike froze at the sound, repositioned his head, tugged again, but the cage gave no ground.

"You're locked in," came a deep voice from a few feet behind him, followed by rustling. "Sir doesn't want us moving around down here." Rike's hands ventured up to the top of his head, and after a bit of feeling around he realized the tiger was right: his rack was shackled at the base, attached to the cage by small chains. After a bit more squirming, he knew his hooves were the same way. He found it odd that he would be bound inside a cage he couldn't escape anyway. He also found it odd that the tiger was talking to him.

"So you can speak." The buck turned his head toward the tiger, but only moved a few inches before meeting resistance, and so he just gave up.

"Not when Sir is around," the tiger replied. "But I had to say something before you woke him up." Silence, for a moment, then: "I'm Tenso. But Sir calls me Pup."

"For obvious reasons."

"Mhm." Tenso stretched and groaned, shaking both cages, which Rike decided must be attached somehow, if it wasn't all one piece anyway. "Are you the new pet?"

Rike nearly answered before he actually stopped to think about the ramifications of that seemingly simple question. It wasn't necessarily hard, but the way Tenso asked hinted at more to this weekend than the fun and games the buck had expected.

"I'm just here for the weekend."

"Oh. Sir said I was going to have a new pet to play with. I guess I thought you were going to live here too." Rike's ears perked at that. Live? Icy fingers of panic tightened around his stomach. Questions raced through his head, jumbling together and running rampant with fear and anxiety and even slight arousal, which didn't last long.

Rike tried to remember what Tenso had looked like the previous night. Average height, built like a tank, decent equipment...but his face had been hidden behind that mask. He sounded like he could be in his early thirties, but he talked in such simple terms, such elementary concepts. Had he been trained this way, or was it a face he put on with the gear?

"Well, Bill didn't tell me anything about that. I'm new to all this."

"He's probably just trying you out, then." Tenso's words were muffled by the mask, but far from garbled. "Trying out" wouldn't exactly be the term Rike would use, but the mere mention of it caused the buck to doubt why he was here in the first place. The buck's purpose here was a hands-on, real-life experience. And here he was, chained to a cage next to an actual "pet," and it didn't get any more real than that.

Already, though, Rike questioned his dedication compared to Bill's and Tenso's, the likes of which he hadn't seen before. Hell, he'd never seen or read about anything like this, which led him to believe that either what went on in this house was rare or he hadn't delved into the subject nearly deep enough.

"Are you here for the weekend, too?" Rike asked, speaking up slightly to compensate for his awkward position. Truth be told, he felt more put out than submissive, and the conversation, though welcome and necessary, wasn't helping. The tiger obviously knew more than the buck did, and whatever he could learn would be valuable when dealing with Bill when he woke up. Pushing out of his mind the thought that he was in over his head, he continued: "Or is it something different?"

"I'm the pet," the tiger said, the smile evident in his voice. "I live here."

"So, you're Bill's boyfriend?"

"No..."

"Husband?"

"No, I'm the pet," Tenso repeated. "Sir takes care of me, and I live here."

Nonplussed for a moment, Rike gathered his thoughts and formed his question carefully. "All you do is live here, and...what...serve him?"

"I...don't really serve. I just be the pet. You know, do pet things. Sleeping, and eating, and...you know...other stuff."

The naïve act was starting to get on the buck's nerves. "Fucking, that sort of thing."

"There's...playtime, yeah." Tenso shifted position again.

The idea of a permanent pet was almost beyond the scope of Rike's comprehension. "How do you even go about something like that?"

"Well," the tiger said, moving as close to the buck as he could, "I just like it. You know, no worrying about bills or clothes or food. I just worry about being good, and giving Sir what he wants. A lot of the time, that just means me."

"And you're okay with this? You gave up your life for this?"

"I didn't give anything up," Tenso said. "This is my life." Rike fell silent after that. Not just because of the tiger's nonchalance, but because he absolutely meant every word. It just sounded so easy, coming out of his muzzle, the implications behind that simple blanket statement left the buck with nothing more to say. Rike hadn't gotten all he'd wanted, but it was enough.

Tenso was quiet, and soon Rike could hear him rumbling softly as he slept again, and he wondered how odd it would be to have a leather pup purring contentedly at one's feet. The sound soothed his taxed mind, and the next time he opened his eyes the basement was illuminated with the weak glow of the approaching sunrise. Sounds from above told him he'd been woken by Bill's plodding hoofsteps as the donkey wandered about. Most of the time they were centered around the kitchen tile, but occasionally they would move over to the carpeted hallways and what the buck assumed were bedrooms and a bathroom.

Just as the first rays of sunlight came through the basement window, casting bright bars onto the wall across the room, Rike heard the clink of a key rotating the tumblers of a lock and the creak of the door. One step at a time, the donkey descended the stairs, the buck counting the first seven before he caught movement. They stopped right in front of the cage, and Bill squatted into view. He was nude, and smelled of coffee and bacon.

"Mornin'." Rike knew better than to respond, but he could at least look up most of the way to meeting the donkey's eyes. He still felt uneasy about the whole situation, but he remembered last night and couldn't help grinning. "Looks like the pup did a good job getting you all secure, didn't he?" Bill reached over into Tenso's cage, and the purring grew louder.

"You ready for me?" Bill stood and walked to a support beam well out of reach and took a key ring from it, kneeling down and inserting a key into Tenso's side of the cage. Beyond that, Rike couldn't turn his head enough to see, but he heard other locks being opened, the jangle of chains and shackles, and Tenso's constant purr. And then the tiger was out, crawling around Bill's legs, trying to act canine while his feline tail all but gave him away. As Tenso made his way over to a wrestling mat a few feet away from the cage, the donkey turned to the side, giving Rike a clear view of his growing erection. Only then did it dawn on him what they were about to do.

Tenso spread his legs and raised his tail, making for quite the seeming oxymoron with his muscular build in such a position. It was actually the first time Rike had seen anything like that. Bill picked up a small black bottle from a shelf next to the mat, went to his knees behind the tiger, and applied a liberal amount to his fingers, then Tenso's hole, then his own shaft. Aiming himself with one hand and holding the tiger's cheeks apart with the other, he pressed forward, the flare of his head disappearing into the valley of white fur.

From the cage, Rike had a perfect view. The basement was suffused with the gentle glow of morning, throwing everything into a kind of soft focus as the buck watched Bill mount his pup. It was unceremonious without being rote, loving without being sappy or feral. Bill's thick legs flexed with his thrusts, his belly pushing the tiger's tail up over his back. Tenso was quiet at first, but as the pace quickened he had more and more trouble keeping his moans and barks (which he was pretty good at) in check. Rike ventured a hand down to rub himself with no intention of finishing. He felt like that decision was the donkey's, now.

Less than ten minutes later, Bill grunted and held the tiger to his hips as he came. Rike found himself quite jealous despite being so turned on, mitigated by the fact that he would need serious prepping before being able to take that equid member.The thought was just as hot as it had been in his RP's with Bill.

Bill pulled himself from Tenso's backside with a groan, a puddle of cum appearing between the tiger's calves. "Good boy," he said, patting one firm buttock, then leaning over to whisper something in Tenso's ear. The tiger nodded and stood, stretching his bulk before taking off the mask, along with the rest of the pup gear.

"Christ, Bill, you weren't kidding when you said you were saving up!" he said, spreading his cheeks and wiping up the mess with a towel. "Well, never mind. That's pretty typical for you."

"I got big balls, what can I say?" the donkey replied. "I don't hear you complainin', exactly."

"Never." Tenso cupped Bill's scrotum and hefted it. "It's better when I can actually feel you shoot," he said, smiling and leaning in to kiss the tip of the donkey's snout. And Bill actually blushed. Rike watched the exchange, confused and flabbergasted. What, exactly, was their relationship?

"Uh-oh," said the donkey, looking over at the poor buck, "it looks like the new guy's confused."

"Looks freaked out, to me," Tenso added.

Bill placed his hand on Tenso's shoulder. "Why don't you do your routine and get ready while I take him out and feed him? You got a big day today." The tiger nodded before both males left the basement. More steps, all around the upper floor, then they both came down again, Tenso in a jock strap and Bill in a plaid robe that didn't really hide anything. After cleaning up the mess on the wrestling mat, the tiger began to do yoga poses, and Rike watched that perfect body while Bill opened his cage, released his hooves and antlers, and attached a leash to his collar to lead him out.

It surprised Rike how free he felt after getting used to walking on his hands and knees, naked, through the house and into the backyard. He could actually use his hooves too, for the most part, once he found out how flexible his legs were in a quadrupedal position. Squatting in a corner of the backyard, however, was more difficult with Bill watching. Eventually the donkey had to turn his back while Rike did his business, fighting his sense of shame by telling himself this was what he was supposed to do.

When they returned to the basement, Tenso was on his back on a bench press, lifting what looked to be an impossible amount of weight. As the buck passed, he watched the tiger's arms flex and curl with the strain, the bulges they made, as well as the bulge of sheath under the fabric of the jock. He could hardly believe their pre-dawn conversation, watching the feline as he was now.

While they were outside, Tenso had brought down bowls of food and water for Rike. The tiger finished his set and went upstairs to shower, and it was only then that the buck felt comfortable with taking a couple bites of the dry, artificial-tasting pellets. He tried to wash it down with water, but all it did was make a hard-to-swallow gushy mess. He had no idea how pets could eat that for every meal, and he was thankful when Bill just chuckled and shook his head. Thankful but ashamed. He couldn't help feeling like a failure.

"How do I look?" Tenso's tenor echoed down the staircase. The tiger stepped onto the basement floor, transformed from the cat he'd seen yesterday. A smart charcoal suit with a navy shirt and black tie covered his substantial frame. Rike finally got a good look at his face, which wasn't as young as it was young-looking. His green eyes sparkled as he smiled at them both, his tail curling lazily behind him.

"Smart as always," Bill said, reaching over to adjust the Windsor knot at the tiger's neck. He turned to the buck. "Can you believe they're making him show up for jury duty on a Saturday?"

"It's a murder case, and it's my civic duty. Not my fault if they closed arguments at the end of the workweek and had to send us to deliberations the next day. Mind if I take the Prius this time? I found out I get free parking with the hybrid sticker thing." Tenso rolled his eyes, jangling the keys in his pocket.

"Sounds like you picked 'em up off the table anyway," the donkey chuckled, "so I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Smiling, the tiger replied, "I knew you would say yes." Bill gave him a lighthearted punch in the shoulder as the feline turned to leave. "I'll text you when I'm on my way back. I'm gonna be horny, just so you know."

"I'll see what I can do!" the donkey chuckled, after him, winking at Rike. The basement door closed and the two were left in silence. Bill looked down at the buck, naked and leashed beside the still-full food bowl. He sighed.

"You wanna talk to me, don't you?" Rike nodded, though he found himself more interested in the floor than Bill's face. "Alright, then. Giraffe, for now." The word struck deep down, stronger than Rike thought it would. Even though he knew it wasn't the end of the trip, that feeling of failure came back on him like a rush of blood in his ears, bringing heat to his face and tears to his eyes.

"I didn't...expect a lot of this. Especially him."

"Are you jealous?" It sure sounded like jealousy, as much as Rike didn't want to admit it. But he hadn't been prepared for Tenso, and what Tenso was to Bill. He still didn't actually know the specifics of that yet.

"Kind of. Does he live here?"

"He does. He's lived here for about six months," Bill said, sitting down beside the buck, the end of the leash still in his hand.

"Is he your partner, or something?"

Bill smiled and looked off into the distance. "Far from it. Partners are equals. Tenso is my pet. Subordinate, obedient, dependent. He's a dedicated lifestyler. Took me a while after I met him online to take him seriously when he told me he always wanted to be a permanent pet. But he's proved it to me so many times now, I've lost count. You see how he is."

"But you let him out?"

"You can't shirk jury duty. It's a civic requirement. Anything like that--voting, Christmas, renewing a driver license--he gets to go out for. Some things you can't avoid. Everything else, it's handled. He wanted someone to take care of him, and in return, he's here for me as a pet. It can seem kind of extreme, but we're used to it." Bill reached out to scratch between Rike's ears. "You think you're in over your head?"

Rike didn't want to answer right away. He didn't want to admit it, and he didn't think he was, exactly. He just didn't think he could be as dedicated as Tenso...not nearly. The buck just couldn't square the idea of giving his life and independence over to anyone else, not even a guy as good as Bill. Not because he wasn't strong enough, but because...because he couldn't give Bill what Tenso already did.

"I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, please." Bill waved it off. "Andrew disappointed me. You slept through the night. I halfway expected you to run right back out the door, naked and all, after I decked you!" The donkey's deep belly laugh shook the robe loose before he caught the buck's deep blush. He narrowed his eyes. "You tellin' me you liked it?"

Rike hadn't allowed himself to think about it, but Bill's question brought the image into the forefront of his mind once again. Up against the coffee table, his back throbbing, his face stinging from the impact...and the tightness in his pants that hadn't been apparent until Tenso had scissor-stripped him. The buck finally looked up into the donkey's eyes, which held a shining determination that demanded an answer of him.

Bill's hand was faster than his patience was long, and in a split second the fingers that had been rubbing him between the ears were balled up and sailing through the air toward the side of Rike's muzzle. The connection was solid but not damaging, sending the buck onto his side against the cage, rattling it. No way could the buck hide his excitement, and right now, he didn't want to.

"Looks like you liked it." There was no hiding that boner. "Lucky for you, I take a bit to recharge. Now that I know, I can have more fun with ya." Bill tucked himself back into his robe, thought for a moment, then asked, "Can I pose another deep question to you?"

Rubbing his nose and not-so-secretly enjoying the pain, Rike said, "Sure."

"What're you here for? I mean, why're you visiting me? Really, I'd like to know."

"I...thought you wanted me to see the lifestyle for myself." By now, "lifestyle" had mostly lost its meaning.

"Yeah, that's what I wanted. But what did you want to accomplish by coming here?" Rike was about to answer that what he wanted wasn't important, but then realized that was the whole point of Bill's question: to make the buck think about what he wanted to get out of this, not what the donkey was supposed to teach him. He'd come expecting playtime, and instead found that what he was after was far more serious than he'd given it credit for. People made their lives out of this. People gave up their freedoms for this.

"I thought I wanted to be a pet. But...I didn't know how far it went."

Bill sat cross-legged on the floor, turning the buck's face to his. "You've gone a lot farther than most people," he said. "It takes a lot of self-knowledge to do what you've done so far, without breaking down. I'm pretty proud of you."

"Yeah, but...I'm not like Tenso."

"You say it like it's a bad thing," the donkey said, planting a rubbery kiss on Rike's black snout. "Tenso is one kind of pet. You don't have to live in my basement, you know, though...I could keep you if you feel it's where you want to be. You can be my second pup, for as long as you're here. You might even learn to like the food, heh."

Rike looked toward the bowl, recalling the texture in his mouth. "I can try," he said. "Do I get leather gear like Tenso?"

"Tenso's the only one allowed to wear his leather," replied the donkey. "But..."Bill stood and walked to the far corner of the basement, digging around in an old, dilapidated chest of drawers. Consternation clouded his features while he searched drawer after drawer, until he shouted, "Aha!" Turning around, the donkey sauntered back to the buck, whose eyes widened when he saw what Bill held. "I haven't done this in a while, but I may have the next best thing."

"Is...is that an airbrush gun?" Rike asked. Bill just grinned.

"Giraffe."

Rike couldn't tell how much time had passed since the donkey put him back into pup mode. All he knew was that he'd been in the same position for a long time, and his arms were giving out. But he knew Bill was having fun, by the sounds of humming and whistling as he made his way around the buck's nude body, spraying here and there, putting little finishing touches where he thought they were needed.

At first, Bill wouldn't tell the buck what he had in mind, but when the donkey snapped a pair of sunning goggles onto the bridge of his muzzle, he began to get the idea. What followed was the donkey giving orders from time to time while Rike complied, raising this body part and lowering that, while a ventilation fan ran in the background and helped dissipate the smell of paint in the air. The only time the goggles came off was when Bill painted the buck's eyelids. The more excited the donkey got, the more excited Rike was to see the final product. He felt more canine already.

"Alright, I think I've done all I can do here," Bill said through a smile. He brought the fan closer and turned so that the buck got the full force of the air stream."That should only take a few minutes to dry. In the meantime, we have a few more things to do." As the fan did its job, Rike heard the donkey storing his equipment, then rummaging through the chest again. "Dammit, hold on," he said, and clomped upstairs.

Rike enjoyed the few minutes of solitude before the donkey came back down, feeling the air in his fur, flowing over its surface, fluttering his ears gently without making him overly cold. He felt like himself, like he was in his element, no longer torn between worlds. Like he fit in. In any case, he was having fun.

Bill came back into the basement, braying triumphantly. "I _knew_I had these around somewhere! Christ, I should have looked for these before I started.I lucked out." The donkey secured something around each of his hooves, then asked him to raise a hand so he could slide a mitt over it. Inside was a small round grip that forced his fingers to curl. Once they were on, he would have to crawl on his fists. Finally, something soft was shoved against his tail, and clamped around his waist.

"I think we're done here," said Bill. "You wanna have a look, pup?"

"Rawrf!" Rike replied, without even thinking. It just...seemed like the right thing to do. Bill led him over to the corner with the chest of drawers, next to which sat a tall wardrobe.

"Ready?" Rike nodded, and Bill opened the doors. Inside, a husky stared back at him from a full-length mirror. A husky with antlers.

"Whoa..." murmured the buck, before remembering his place and cringing, waiting for the blow to come. But the donkey let it slide this time, and Rike got a good look at what he'd become.

With the exception of his antlers--which were now white--and the anatomy of his lower legs, the buck could pass for a blue-and-white husky in his summer coat. The dark patches on his muzzle had been turned a greyish-blue and white. The pattern ran down his torso, more or less mirroring the transition of his normally brown-and-beige fur. The dapples on his rump were nothing but a plain blue field, as was his tail, which blended almost perfectly with the strap-on tail Bill had latched around him. His hands and hooves were encased in matching paw-mitts, completing the ensemble. He was, for all intents and purposes, a dog.

Bill appeared behind him, looking deservedly proud of the job he'd done. He patted Rike on the head and asked, "You like your new look?" Before he could really think about it, the buck started panting, his tongue lolling to the side, grinning a shit-eating grin and actually wagging for the first time in his life. The husky tail moved with his rear, fanning from side to side. The donkey smacked one of those cheeks, making Rike yip and moan all at once, and it looked fantastic in the mirror.

A door slammed upstairs. "He's home," singsonged Bill. "That went quicker than I thought."

Footsteps approached the basement door and stopped."You guys still down there?"

"It's like we never left!" replied the donkey. "Come see what I've been making all afternoon." The door opened and the tiger came down. "Was the guy guilty?"

"Hell yes, he was. I don't think there was any way we could...holy hell, you've been busy." Tenso stopped two steps from the floor when he saw Rike, eying him appreciatively. "You haven't done any painting in a while. You haven't lost your touch, either. That's...that's hot, Bill."

"You think so?" asked the donkey, pressing down on the buck's lower back. "Sit."He complied, sitting on his haunches and exposing his half-hard sheath to the tiger.

"You taught him commands, too?" By this time, Tenso had a paw between his legs, massaging.

"No, he's pretty good about figuring them out himself. I would ask him to roll over and beg, but I don't want to ruin the paint job I just did."

"I think that's an eventuality, not a possibility," said Tenso. "If it doesn't rub off on the floor, it's gonna get messed up by something else." The tiger winked lewdly, the bulge beneath his paw growing.

"Jury duty really gets you worked up, doesn't it?" Bill asked, pacing over to the stairs and leaning in close to whisper in the tiger's ear. Tenso nodded, and visibly deflated into his former, weaker, simpler self. "Now go get ready so you can join me and we can break this pup in."

Rike whimpered; they were talking about him. He suddenly realized how horny he was; now that he had an outlet, the need was fierce and building quickly. Rike the buck was gone for the time being, and in his place stood Rike the submissive pet husky, obedient and willing. It was a part he vowed to play well.

"I think it's time I made good use of you," said Bill, bending to grab a sawhorse near the bureau and dragging it over to the wrestling mat. "Get over here and bend yourself over this thing." Rike moved, but slowly because his balance was thrown off by the odd surfaces of the paw-mitts. Halfway to the sawhorse, the buck slipped and sprawled out on the floor. Before he could get up, the donkey belted him one, sending him back down. The pain was a flash in his mind, brilliant and sharp, and it felt damn good. He tried to hide his pleasure behind a wince the same way Bill hid his behind authority, but each was enjoying himself immensely.

Smiling away from Bill, Rike crawled over to the sawhorse, which had been modified to half its original height...the perfect height for suspending a willing bottom. "Giyyup!" Bill ordered, pointing, and the buck lay face-down, his chest along the length of the wooden rail. Clinking from behind him told of Tenso's return to puphood, and to the basement. "Oh good, you're just in time. Down! Good boy, now grab some spreader bars and help me." Rike wished he could see the look on Tenso's face at the command, but he imagined the flush behind the black leather and the tiger's secret enjoyment. The donkey continued, chuckling: "And take that lock off; I need your cock tonight."

Rike's backside clenched in response. Bill's tone was urgent, but not forceful. He was a man who knew what he was doing and how to get what he wanted. And he had two perfectly capable pets to assist him, at least for tonight. When the donkey doffed his robe, revealing his half-hard shaft, the buck began to whimper and wag his two-tailed rear. Whatever was in store, he'd enjoy it.

A set of paws spread Rike's feet apart so his hips dropped off the edge of the sawhorse a bit, exposing his hole. Cool metal snapped around each ankle, and then the tiger came around to the buck's front, doing the same to his wrists. Rike wasn't secured to anything but he didn't have to be. He wasn't going anywhere, and if he tried, he wouldn't go far. In a bold move, Tenso grasped the buck's white rack and pulled him forward to meet the tip of his leaking sheath, which Rike did not hesitate to lick. He glanced around the tiger's hip; they both watched for Bill to turn around.

Rike got off only a few licks of the barbed head before Tenso pulled away, smacking him across the face for the donkey's benefit. Spittle, and probably a little precum, flew off of his lips and onto the mat, followed by a groan that was more of a moan anyway.

"He ready?" Bill asked, kneeling down to inspect the tiger's handiwork, giving Rike a close-up view of his thick buttocks and the thin tail sweeping from side to side between them. It wasn't the donkey's heft that attracted the buck, but his unwavering and effortless domination that had kept him coming back online for more. Seeing it acted out in person, unrestrained, was ten times as hot. Bill patted Rike's side and got to his knees. The sawhorse matched his inseam perfectly.

Seven inches of donkey dick dangled right in front of Rike's flared nostrils. A nod."I think y'are, pup." The buck shivered, and stuck out his tongue.

It wasn't sweet nectar, but it was the distilled musk of the combination of scents that made up Bill. Heady and earthy, clean but not sterile, it was just a very manly combination. Rike's tongue made quick work of the pre that drooled from the donkey's uniquely flared tip, and his lips drew in the head after that. He earned a grunt of appreciation and fingers around his antlers, always a good sign that someone enjoyed his efforts.

From behind him, Rike could hear rustling and the creak of leather. He clenched again, just from the thought, and hoped Tenso could be gentle. It had been...forever, really...since he'd bottomed, and that distinct kind of pain wasn't something he could turn into pleasure. At least, not right away. A paw reached below his tails and spread him while another applied a generous amount of lube, a claw penetrating slightly to ease the coming entry.

Bill gripped Rike's rack harder and began a slow thrusting. The girth of the donkey's member stretched out his cheeks but it wasn't long enough to trigger his gag reflex, so the buck had ample opportunity to use his tongue and throat to coax out more fluid.

"Damn...that is nice," said Bill, suppressing a more feral sound. All Rike could see was the donkey's navel, but if he squinted he could see out to the edges of those meaty thighs, or he could close his eyes entirely to concentrate on the feel of those balls, black and utterly smooth, bouncing against his chin. Behind him, he felt Tenso's knees between his own, and the heat of another shaft begging for entrance to his body. He was in no position to deny it, nor did he want to.

Tenso's head popped through with little effort due to its tapered shape, but after that a pleasant thickness stretched Rike a bit more than he'd been expecting. But the tiger was gentle and let the buck acclimate before moving more. Soon, Rike was wiggling around, trying to wag but failing, so he just braced himself and bore down until he felt the tiger's belly on his lower back. Tenso moaned as he bottomed out, his claws grasping at the buck's rump to hold him close.

Bill turned out to be a bit too thick at the base for Rike's narrow jaw, so he settled for steering him with one hand while the other went to the base of his cock to stroke what remained outside of the buck's lips. "It's...too bad you...don't want to be more of a pet," the donkey managed between thrusts. "You...would make a great friend for Tenso. You're a...good dog, a very good dog. I'll take...what I can get for the moment." If this was consolation, it was one hell of a consolation.

The sun was beginning to set, and the south-facing windows let in the glow to cast a warmth throughout the otherwise dingy basement. Bill's browns mellowed to umbers, Rike's new colors turned an odd shade of yellow-grey, and Tenso glowed even more orange. There wasn't much noise, save for the soft _shh-shh_of fur on fur, and a grunt or vulgar word from Bill every so often. Tenso did his best not to say anything out of turn, lest he be punished by not being allowed to finish what he'd started.

Once the tiger's paw reached below Rike's belly and grasped his arousal, though, the pace seemed to quicken by leaps and bounds. The buck had been so wrapped up in servicing the other two that he'd almost forgotten his own needs. He couldn't stop the moan from escaping his throat, but it added a gentle vibration to his fellatio, which Bill appreciated. A fresh volley of pre coated the buck's tongue.

Tenso's pads were slick and soft, caressing his flesh just the right amount to pull him to the brink and keep him there. Soon he was thrashing as much as the bars would allow, trying to get as much cock into either end of him as possible.Eventually, even Tenso's teasing proved to be too much, and with a whimper and nothing more, Rike sprayed across the mat for several feet, the rest of it dripping into a puddle beneath him. He kept his muzzle open, but mostly he was just hanging in there for the ride.

Without the constant tension of needing to climax, Rike could focus on other things, like opening for maximum penetration on Bill's end and clenching against the tiger's withdrawals so he could hear the desperation in Tenso's purrs. The feline's thrusts became erratic, and soon he was fighting back a mewling moan as he unloaded himself into the buck's rear, holding his shaky position while the donkey worked himself to the end.

"You want it, boy?"

Rike nodded.

"You want my nut?"

Rike nodded emphatically, barking around his mouthful of cock and wagging the tiger with his motions. He looked up into Bill's face, trying his best to make puppy-dog eyes.Bill watched him, his face screwed up in concentration, the whole of his body tensed up. It was easy to tell when the donkey realized he couldn't stop himself: he relaxed, pulled out of Rike's muzzle and set his tip on the buck's snout for the best aim. A few seconds later, he cursed and grimaced while his seed made small parabolas in the air before coming back down all over Rike's head. He was soaked, but he didn't mind one bit.

After that, silence. Tenso eventually went soft and plopped out of the buck's backside, staggering back on his knees before giving up and crawling on all fours into his cage, where he proceeded to clean himself. Bill recovered enough to release the spreader bars and, after hearing the buck's stomach rumble something fierce, led him over to the food and water the buck had passed by earlier. Nothing could have tasted better at that moment. Rike scarfed it up like a starving stray, taking the moment to relish the feel of seed in his hole and on his face.

But the most satisfaction came when he caught his reflection in the bureau's mirror: his paint smeared, the claw marks on his legs, and--most of all--his cum-soaked muzzle, the mark of his position.

"You're pretty good at that," Bill said, leaning down to wipe some of the fluid away. "I'm usually a one-shot-per-session guy, but I might be workin' up to a second." The donkey licked a runnel from above the buck's left brow before it could get into his vision.

Rike looked back at himself, a cum-covered husky with antlers and a lolling tongue. Right now, he was everywhere he wanted to be.

"You had enough?" the donkey asked, grinning that sinister big-toothed grin of his. "Speak, boy."

"No way," Rike replied. "I don't think I could ever get enough." He said this despite the fact that he was typing with his fingertips because the rest of one hand was all sticky, the laptop balanced on his knees to avoid the mess.

"Now boy, I thought I taught you about thinkin' before you speak. You see, there's this deer who thought he was all ready to be a pet, but..."

Rike sat back against the headboard and rolled his eyes dramatically enough for Bill to see them clearly in the web cam. Bill still liked to give the buck a rough time, even though they'd hashed out their feelings before Rike had left his house.

"Giraffe, already. You ruined it."

"Me? I'm not the one with a crotch covered in spooge, here. At least you got off already!" The donkey was laughing so hard he nearly toppled over in his chair, and Rike couldn't not smile at seeing his friend (and sometimes master) so pleased with himself.

Rike hadn't played the pet since the visit to Bill's house, and he found that the break had done him a world of good. He'd been too close to the problem to realistically consider his options, and when Bill had thrown Giraffe out prematurely on Sunday morning at breakfast, he'd had a good reason.

Saturday evening had been a blast for all three males. Spit-roasting Rike had only been the start of a long evening of play, and as time went on Rike had felt himself slipping deeper into his canine role. Eventually it had become second-nature, and he nearly forgot his true species. When he later described it to Bill, the donkey had said that was exactly how it was supposed to feel when one was lost in the role play. But deep down, the buck knew he was no Tenso. After a surprise morning session where he was allowed to mount the tiger (and lasted about five minutes, he was so excited) Bill had used Giraffe on Rike and whatever word he reserved for the feline, which was apparently a very secretive and personal thing.

Over a breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast and coffee, they had discussed Rike's concerns, with Tenso jumping in here and there whenever he could help. The buck admitted he wasn't ready, and might never be. And when Bill brushed it off and said he already knew, it was a huge weight off of Rike's shoulders.

"The problem is, you let your expectations and ego get the better of you," the donkey had said. "You can't force it, no matter how much you want it. I happen to think you make a damn good husky pup, and if you can only come over for a weekend here and there, I think that's where you belong." And that word, belong, mattered the most to Rike. He'd had time to think on the drive home, and between then and tonight's RP he'd decided he had nothing more to add. It was exactly what Bill said it was.

Rike smirked at the donkey in the vid window. "Well, you already said the word, so I can't do anything to help you!" the buck said to his web cam as the donkey's laughter settled down.

"Nah, you're okay, I had the tiger's muzz between my legs before I logged on, so I'm good." Just the picture was enough to stir Rike's sheath all over again.

"I just wish I could keep up with you guys."

"Now, what does that mean?" Bill asked. "Don't you tell me you're having doubts again. Don't make me beat it into that hard rack again, cuz I'm getting' tired of it." So tired, and yet he smiled.

"I gave up on that days ago," replied the buck. "You give me a hard time about not making the cut, I give you a hard time about my feelings of inadequacy."

Bill moved closer to the cam. "Well, you can take that to a couch in some doc's office, unless you wanna pay me a bunch of money to draw in a notebook and nod my head." They both laughed at that, and the tension broke. "Seriously, though, when do you want to come over next? Tenso's been kinda lonely."

Rike's tail started to wag against the sheets, at least as much as it could. "I'll have to check my schedule, but I'd love to. Do I get to be a husky again?" It was refreshing to not have to take things as seriously as he had been. He could finally just talk about it.

"Actually, I've been at my sewing machine, making some new things I think you'll like. Got some new paint, too. I think you'd make a good Doberman." Rike's jaw dropped, and it wasn't the only thing. Bill laughed. "I guess that's as good an answer as any!"

"Yeah, my schedule can wait...that sounds pretty damn important," the buck said, pulling his erection from his belly to show the donkey, who nodded, licking his lips.

"You keep that thing nice and hard, and I'll make it worth your while. Until then, I have some sleep to get. You do too."

"Yes, Dad."

"I can do that fantasy too, if you want." Rike waved it away with both hands, shaking his head frenetically."No, no, one at a time! One at a time!"

"At least it's an idea," replied the donkey. "You take care."

"Night." Bill's cam went dark, and it occurred to the buck that he hadn't used "Sir" all night long, and the donkey hadn't mentioned it. Perhaps the rules weren't hard and fast. Rike thought that whatever worked would be fine between them. They both agreed that fun was the first priority in anything they did. And there was nothing wrong with that.

Rike leaned over to grab a washcloth from the nightstand and wiped himself off. He envisioned himself with black and tan markings, his tail bobbed and rounded off, his hands and hooves bound into paws again. He had to stop or he'd never get anything done, so he sat up straight and stretched out beneath the covers. Bill had an early bedtime, but the buck still had work to do.

As he got down to business, Rike reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a handful of kibble from the bowl he kept there. He smiled to himself as he flicked a few pieces into his mouth, the texture still foreign but palatable. These were chicken-and-rice flavored, much better than Bill's brand, and oddly enough, they went great with orange juice.

He would grow to like them yet.

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