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The following story was inspired by a number of comments about hot, and not so hot, high school teachers following the French lesson in Chapter four of the 'Curse of the Yellow Monkey'. It involves three male characters supplied by others, three female teachers, three locations and three different outcomes.

The guys who made the initial comments were asked supply a male character then pick a partner, location and outcome blindly (i.e. 3, C, Blue). They were only told that one of the teachers was gorgeous, one was plain and one was a beast. The type of sexual act was dependant on the location. As for the outcomes, they were advised that that one would be totally satisfied, one would be changed forever and one would crawl away, but not given the reasons why. There was an element of risk in that one may end up with a beast of a partner with bizarre sexual habits and that it would end badly, or not. Bravely, all three agreed to take that risk.

After they made their choices, I wrote the story according to the selected combinations. They have not been told which combination they choose, so when they read this the first time it will be a surprise for them too. Hopefully, it won't be a totally unpleasant one.

The contributors:

Marcus X Light is a Maine coon cat named Jacob

Commander Eagle is an Arctic wolf named Joseph

Coyotek is Coyotek, a Polish Coyote

The rest of the characters are the product of my imagination, any resemblance to my former teachers would best be ignored.

Dikran O.

Kept Back

The three friends sat under the huge maple tree in the far corner of the high school grounds. It was the only tree on the property and provided the sole source of shade on hot days and the only shelter from the rain or snow the rest of the year. The tree was near the fence, and because of a quirk of topography its base was out of sight of the school, but anyone approaching, the Vice-Principal for instance, could be seen from there. Anyone carrying contraband could circle behind the massive trunk and toss it into the bushes on the other side of the fence before the authorities could get close enough to identify it. Because of these desirable features, the tree was senior's territory; and not just any seniors; only the coolest need apply.

Two of the three had waited four years for the privilege of lounging here, and the third was allowed by association with them.

Jacob was a Maine coon cat, he was large for a feline and his colourful, luxuriant coat made him appear overweight, although he wasn't. He was a dreamer, the one who came up with the crazy ideas that eventually earned them the right to sit under this tree. His hero was the British graffiti artist Banski, and Jacob could not look at a blank, seemingly inaccessible wall without imagining an elaborate scheme to put some signature design of his own there, without being caught of course. There were only two problems, he didn't have the physical prowess to get to those places and he had no artistic skills.

Joseph on the other hand had the skill and the muscle. A large Arctic wolf that played on most of the senior teams, he was a reliable, tough competitor, but not one destined for greatness. He was good with his paws and his ambition was to be an automotive engineer some day. While he rarely came up with plots of his own, he could translate Jacob's plans into actions, make the impossible possible. He was sure that he could get them, and whatever equipment they needed, to those choice spots, but he couldn't draw a straight line with a ruler in three out of five tries either.

Jacob and Joseph had been friends and neighbours since grade school. They dreamt of the day that the rest of the students would see one of their works. They talked about it a lot, they drew up intricate plans and detailed diagrams, and Joseph even went as far as building portable ladders and hoisting gear in shop class, but neither of them was bold enough to actually attempt one, so up until their senior year they were regarded by their peers as just average guys, nothing special.

They lacked that essential element of craziness necessary to carry it off. The coming of the third member of their group changed that.

At the end of their junior year Jacob had brought home the usual end-of-year bulletin with its list of scholastic summer activities, tips for a drug-free vacation and other announcements. One of the items congratulated those students accepted for the senior student's foreign exchange program, and noted that they were still looking for sponsor homes for several visiting students. Jacob's mother, struggling to raise her son on her own and noticing that the program paid a small monthly fee to cover room and board, decided to apply. In August, a large brown envelope arrived with details of the program and a profile of the student they would house if they were still willing.

"What do you think Jacob?" His mother had asked, as he read the profile; a male Polish coyote who was studying to be an artist. Apparently he preferred to be addressed as 'Coyotek', although that was neither his first nor his last name. He sounded weird.

"Jeez mom, don't they have any females in this program?"

"We need the money." She replied curtly. "He can sleep in your room in the spare bed." Jacob saw his privacy evaporate. Hope this guy understands English at least, he thought as he trudged upstairs to start moving his stuff back to one side off the room.

Coyotek arrived a week before the school year began. To Jacob's relief his English was good enough, although he rarely spoke the first week. He carried a tablet around with him and drew in it constantly. He was average height and build, okay looking, Jacob guessed. The dark spots in his tail were fairly unique and the armless 'pince-nez' eyeglasses he wore were definitely distinctive, very European. Maybe having him around would attract some of the more pretentious females once school started, Jacob thought. He was starting to warm to the idea of having him about.

The night before school started Jacob and Coyotek were in his room. Coyotek was, as always, drawing or colouring something in one of his tablets. Jacob was supposed to getting his stuff ready, but he had his own sketchbook open, and he was adding details to a mural he wanted to paint on a tempting blank wall of the school. It showed a pile of books on fire, and it would go just above the main entrance where everyone would see it. How they would gape in wonder, he imagined. They would all be asking each other who had the balls to pull something like that off; meanwhile he and Joseph would be standing off to one side, sly smiles on their faces, maybe a drop of paint or two on their fur for the rest to notice. They would deny it of course, but not convincingly.

He was so engrossed in his fantasy that he didn't sense the presence behind him until Coyotek's shadow had fallen across the page.

"Cool concept. Bad design." The coyote commented as he reached over and picked p the book. "When you going to do it?" Jacob babbled about conditions and timing, while Coyotek flipped through the dozen or so plans they had detailed. "You have everything you need to pull this off?" He asked.

"Sure, over in Joseph's garage."

"Take a look at this." Coyotek handed one of his sketchbooks to Jacob. Jacob started skimming through it. Its first few pages were filled with renderings of local buildings and landscapes. Then images of his neighbours started to appear. Most of them were draw naked, some in couples or groups, all of them were engaged in some sort of sexual activity.

"Woah." Jacob's eyes doubled in size as he found the likeness of Susan Nellis, the sexy twenty-year-old college student who lived two houses down. Coyotek had given the tigress enormous breasts and large pink nipples. She was shown sucking on the cock of Mister Smyth, the bulldog that delivered the mail, while some unidentified horse rammed her from behind. It was so realistic, the spooge seemed to shoot right out of her vagina and her tail looked like it was alive. Jacob felt part of himself coming to life too.

"Not that one," Coyotek turned the page, "this one."

It was a design for graffiti, done in Banski's style. It showed a silhouette of a teacher with a stick leaning menacingly over the silhouette of a small female feline, while behind him the figure of a small canine set fire to his trousers.

"We could do this one." Coyotek said holding the book out to Jacob.

"Uh, we've never actually done any of these before, Joseph and me." Jacob confessed.

"Then let's go." Coyotek sat on his bed and began to pull on his shoes. "Its time you tried something new."

* * * * * * *

That had been the start of a whole new existence for Jacob and Joseph, one where they were popular. Word got around the students quickly enough that the group that signed its graffiti 'JCJ' was Jacob, Coyotek and Joseph. The locations were daring, but Jacob had planned every aspect to the smallest detail. The walls were seemingly impossible to reach, but the devices Joseph made gave them access. The artwork was impressive, so impressive that the town council vote on whether to paint them over or advertise them as a tourist attraction was tied. The mayor broke the tie and they were painted over; he was not a fan.

Another who was not exactly a devotee was Mister O'Neil, the German shepherd who was the school's Vice-Principal and chief disciplinarian. Jacob had asked Coyotek to make the teacher in their first mural a German shepherd. Since the day when he arrived to find a hundred students already gawking and laughing at the image, the Vice-Principal had been on the lookout for the culprit.

For the three autumn months, the trio had had their way with the bare and defenceless walls of the town. Striking on an average of once every two weeks they managed to pull off six 'events' before the winter weather set in and it became too cold for the paint to set properly. Throughout the winter months they basked in the glory of their secret fame and conducted the occasional indoor 'mini event' just to keep things fresh. One was likely to come upon their handiwork in the washroom at the mall or a back hallway of the high school, much to the chagrin of Mister O'Neil.

Now the snow was gone, the spring rains had passed, and the three were ready to start off the new season with a major event; but the word was out that the cops, the Merchant's Association and the Neighbourhood Watch were all on the lookout for the first sign of a pre-adult with a can of spray paint, a brush or even a roller. So on this fine morning they were sitting under the tree, a privilege that their deeds had earned them, and plotted their next exploit with extra care while they waited for the school to open. They wanted it to be big, but they wanted to graduate also, and they couldn't do that if they were suspended.

Coyotek pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and looked around to make sure the coast was clear before opening it; they didn't want the other students getting wind of their next scheme, that would take all the fun out of it.

"Wait." Joseph advised. A car had just pulled up in the teacher's parking lot between them and the school.

It was a red convertible that they recognized instantly as belonging to Gina Ferrari, an Italian mink that had started teaching French at the school just this year. She was tall, sexy, stacked and tended to wear tight skimpy outfits. Jacob and Joseph had a class with her and it was the one class that they never skipped. This was mostly due to her habit of leaning her elbows on their desk while explaining the grammar, affording them a generous view of her cleavage. The males in French class needed a lot of explanations. According to the washroom graffiti, she was the male population's number one sexual fantasy this year.

The three males watched as she climbed out of the low-slung automobile. First one light brown leg emerged, and it was exposed to the upper thigh as her skirt hiked up when she swivelled to extract the other leg. She paused after standing up, stretching in a way that made her breasts lift and which pulled her skirt even higher. Unconsciously the three leaned forward, was that the strap of a red thong they could see? She adjusted the velvet band that she habitually wore like a collar around her neck; it was a red one today, to match the thong? Dropping her arms, she pulled her skirt back down over her finely rounded ass and headed for the school. The high heels she wore shaped her legs and gave her an ass-rolling gait that was hypnotizing; just watching her walk could make you come.

Halfway across the lot she stopped while another car manoeuvred to park. The grey Volvo belonged to Germaine Jones, the school librarian. She was a slim, serious, plain mouse with fur the same shade of grey as her sedan. As usual, she was dressed in a long shapeless skirt and brown jacket over a blouse that buttoned up to her chin. The sunlight glinted off her over-sized glasses as she turned to greet Miss Ferrari. As the two walked toward the entrance, the males could not help but compare her with the mink. Her narrow hips, tied-up hair and the way she scurried timidly in her flat sensible shoes did not make for a favourable comparison.

"Anybody else around?" Coyotek asked? On his flanks, Jacob and Joseph looked in opposite directions.

"Clear this way." Jacob, watching the street and parking lot, said.

"Just old lady Benz this way." Joseph, who was looking at the sports fields behind the school said. The other two looked also. Off in the distance they could see a hulk of a female black bear, Bernadette Benz, jogging around the track as she usually did before school each morning. Benz was the females' gym teacher, and she habitually dressed in loose tracksuits and running shoes. The males had little contact with her, but her perpetual scowl and butch haircut, as well as the size of her, did nothing to make her attractive.

"The girls say that she's a lesbian." Joseph said for no reason other than to fill the silence.

"How do they know?" Coyotek asked. "They have any first-hand experience?"

"No, but they say that she has her paws all over them in gymnastics, and her office is right beside the showers so she can see them changing and all." Joseph's voice trailed off as he tried to imagine a room full of steamy, naked young females.

"Mister Scott does the same in our gymnastics class, and he's not gay." Jacob observed. "He's got a new female friend every year; he was even dating Ferrari for a few weeks last fall. His office is beside the males showers too; the building was built that way."

They watched Benz jog for a few moments in silence. Determining that she was too far away to see what they were doing, Coyotek handed his latest sketchbook to Jacob. "What do you think?" He asked.

Jacob checked out the design. The wall they were aiming for this time was on the north side of the Catholic Parish house. Coyotek had drawn a busty blond female cheetah with white elbows and knees, naked except for a large silver cross, a tiny pair of wings and a halo.

"He's gorgeous, but it's too many colours for the time we have available." Jacob passed the book to Joseph who grunted agreement to both observations.

"How about the next one?" Coyotek enquired.

Joseph flipped the page over and nodded. "Yeah, that'll work." He handed it to Jacob. Jacob saw that it was a sexy skunk in a miniature nun's habit, garter belt and heels. With the pale yellow brick of the Parish house for a background, it could be done using only black paint in a kind of silhouette effect.

"That's better." He said. "Maybe we can do the blond angel inside the confessional with gel pens."

"Hey, that's sacrilege." Coyotek snarled and he made to grab the book back. The coyote was scowling but Jacob could a glint of humour in his eye, and he pulled the book away before artist could reclaim it.

"Let's see what else you have in here." Jacob began turning the pages. Most of them were filled with scenes of a sexual nature involving caricatures of local and international personalities. Occasionally they were rendered almost true-to-life with every muscle, flap of skin and bulging vein drawn in fine detail. Jacob stopped at one of these images, his face frozen in astonishment. His eyes went round and his whiskers stood straight up. He pulled the book up close to his face. Joseph noticed that Jacob's tail had begun to whip back and forth behind him, a sure sign of sexual excitement. The growing bulge in his pants only confirmed it.

"Hey, what did we learn in school today? Sharing." Joseph reached over to tilt the book back so he could see. Having shared the occasional copy of Playfur and National Anthrographic with Jacob during sleepovers, he was surprised when Jacob flushed red with embarrassment and pressed the tablet to his chest. Nor did he understand Coyotek's sudden burst of laughter.

"I forgot about that one." Coyotek shock his head and chuckled. "Go on Jacob, show it to him."

Jacob reluctantly relaxed his grip on the book. "You really don't want to see this Joseph. Trust me."

Joseph had to look now. Jacob stared hard at him as if he was trying to keep the wolf's eyes locked on his to stop him from looking down, but he failed. Joseph dropped his eyes to the page, blinked twice and gasped.

"You bastard." He shouted and lunged for Coyotek. Bent over double in laughter now, the coyote still managed to roll out of his reach and dance away around the trunk of the tree. The sketchbook lay open on the grass. Jacob couldn't help but pick it up and look at the last page again while an angry Joseph chased the hysterical Coyotek around and around. There, in exquisite detail and lifelike colour, was Joseph's mother being double penetrated by a pair of well-endowed bulls.

She had the same expression on her face that she wore when she won at Bingo; Coyotek must have seen her like that a few times. That was bad enough, but what disturbed Jacob the most, other than his own body's reaction, was the little pink heart on her left buttock. Jacob only knew about it because Joseph had confessed to seeing it when he had come into his parent's bedroom unannounced one morning and found her sleeping naked face down on the bed. Jacob had never seen it himself, Joseph's mother wasn't one for thong bikinis, but it was drawn exactly as Joseph had described it almost ten years ago. He was sure that Joseph had never talked about it since. How had Coyotek known about it?

At that point, Joseph said something about destroying the picture and ran back toward Jacob. Coyotek beat him there and tried to pull the book away. Jacob, unsure of which side to take, held on long enough for Joseph to grab the opposite side and suddenly they were in a three-way tug-of-war. It looked like the entire pad would be ripped in two at any moment.

"I'll take that." The unexpected voice, a deep adult voice, made them freeze in their positions. Mouths agape, their heads simultaneously swivelled around to face the newcomer. Looming above them stood the Vice-Principal, Mister O'Neil. He was holding out his paw patiently.

Jacob realized that O'Neil must have seen Joseph chasing Coyotek around the tree and come to investigate. He had been so fixated on the picture of Joseph's mother that he had not seen the VP coming. Now they were caught. He released the book, as did Joseph. Coyotek looked around wildly, seeking a last minute reprieve, but then his shoulders slumped and he looked at the ground. He held out the sketchbook as if he was handing his executioner a gun.

Jacob wracked his brains, trying to remember if the book contained the sketches from any of their previous events. He didn't think so; fortunately, Coyotek filled them up at a prodigious rate. Most of the images in this volume were pretty tame. They would have to abandon the Parish house project, but other than that, they should be okay. Then he remembered the last picture, just about the same time as Mister O'Neil's eyebrows shot up a good four inches.

"Joseph," the VP asked, turning the book one way then the other as he stared at the last page, "is this ... ?"

"No! It's not." The young wolf insisted, his face glowing red through his fur. He shot a challenging glance at Jacob and Coyotek. "It's not. Right?"

"Uh, right." Jacob rushed to support his oldest friend. "Looks nothing like her."

"Just something from my imagination." Coyotek added. "No one I've ever seen personally, naked, doing that, I mean ..." He gave up as Joseph's gaze began to burn holes in him.

O'Neil had flipped back to the beginning of the book and was looking at the design they had selected for the Parish wall. His eyes left the page and he regarded the wall above the school entrance where the traces of their first event could still be made out, despite the Vice-Principal's efforts to have the brick scrubbed clean. The similarities in style were obvious. The shepherd alternated between the two and then looked thoughtfully at the three young males under the tree.

"Jacob, Joseph and Coyotek." He mused. "J, J and C. JCJ maybe?"

They kept silent. The similar images were not proof, and O'Neil knew it, but if he got them talking he might manage to get them to implicate themselves somehow.

After half a minute of silence, O'Neil snapped the book shut and frowned in disappointment. "Alright then. Whose book is this?"

"Mine." Coyotek admitted.

"One week of detention for bringing pornography onto the school grounds for starters, and," He addressed the two local males, "I'll be having a talk with both of your parents." Joseph opened his mouth to protest but O'Neil cut him off. "Don't worry. I won't show it to her, but don't be surprised if you are not allowed to associate with your two friends for the rest of the year. As for you Jacob," he turned to face the feline, "as the host and guardian of our young 'artist', in accordance with the document signed by all parties involved, your mother may want to remove any more smut from her house. The Mayor and I can go through anything she finds and return anything that is inoffensive to your guest. In the meantime," he turned back to Coyotek, "let's go see if your locker, also school property by the way, contains any more interesting sketches shall we?"

As he watched O'Neil lead Coyotek away, Jacob wondered if he could get home and hide the rest of Coyotek's sketchbooks before the Vice-Principal could contact his mother. She was on day shift today down at the mill and her manager wouldn't stop the line for her to go to the phone unless someone was bleeding or dead. She might return the call at noon but she would not be able to do that, drive home and search for the books during the lunch break so he had until five thirty or so. He could go home and lunch and remove the worst pictures from the spiral tablets and get rind of their plans. He just prayed that Coyotek didn't have any more porn or direct evidence of their events in his locker.

* * * * * * *

At three o'clock Jacob met Joseph in the hall where their lockers were. Joseph was worried about Coyotek implicating them.

"We're yiffed if O'Neil found anything in his locker." He warned Jacob.

"Don't worry." Jacob told him. "O'Neil's watching him like a hawk on a kitten but he managed to pass me a note in math class. He says that his locker had nothing worse than the picture of your mo ... the one with ... the picture you didn't like, and that he's cool for now. We have to get together before my mom talks to O'Neil though, and get our story straight. I left a note at lunch that Coyotek was being kept back and that we would wait here for him. That work for you?"

"I can wait. I don't feel like facing my mother right now anyway, and there are a few things I need to talk to that coyote about."

"Okay, I'll see you by the main doors around four thirty then."

"Yeah. See you. Say, who's on detention duty this week anyway?" Joseph asked. Depending on who it was, Coyotek could either have it very easy or very hard.

"No idea." Jacob answered as he turned and headed down the hall.

* * * * * * * *

Coyotek arrived at the detention room early; he didn't want to get any deeper in shit with O'Neil. Jacob seemed to have managed to fix things at home and indicated that he should keep his trap shut until Jacob could fill him in on the details. That was fine with Coyotek. He wasn't looking forward to his next meeting with Joseph, however, the athletic wolf was likely to try to rip him a new hole or two.

He was the only one in the detention room at the moment and he took a seat at the front in hopes that whoever was running the program this week would think that he was repentant and take pity on him. His paw itched to take out a pen and the blank tablet he had in his pack but her restrained himself; best to wait and see who it was first.

Ten minutes after detention was due to begin he was still the only one in the room. He didn't dare leave though; this could be a trap of O'Neil's. Giving in to his urges he pulled out his pens and paper and began to draw the interior of the detention room as seen from his desk. The perspective was good, and he reproduced the posters on the walls in great detail, but the image was lifeless. He decided to add himself to it, and drew his likeness in the middle of the floor, in chains. As he added the glasses to his figure's snout he heard the door open and he looked up, half expecting to see Mister O'Neil himself.

Oh my God, he thought, it's her.

Gina Ferrari was closing the door to the detention room, fumbling with her bag and a large clipboard as she did so. When she had it closed she turned and regarded him and then moved over to the desk. She put her bag and the clipboard down on its surface. She leaned on her paws, giving Coyotek a good view of her backside, and read from the clipboard.

Coyotek didn't have any classes with her, but he had heard a lot about her from Jacob and Joseph. The mink was showing a lot of fur today, light brown like milk chocolate that shone in the late-afternoon sunlight coming in the windows. It darkened to a deep brown that was almost black on her paws and the tip of her tail. She wore the short skirt, velvet band and heels that Coyotek remembered from the parking lot this morning. Other than that, she had on only a sleeveless print blouse that was transparent enough for him to make out a lacy red bra underneath. As he watched her she dropped to her elbows and leaned farther over. The action made her skirt ride up until Coyotek could see the bottom edge of her butt, bisected by a line of red. A red thong; he knew it!

"You seem to be the only one in detention this week." She said without looking around. "Let's see what you are in for." She was shifting her weight from one leg to the other, making her buttocks grind under the skirt. "Naughty pictures eh?" She stood suddenly and turned to face him. He saw that her blouse was open to the third button. "Let's have a look."

Before he could react, she had taken two steps and rotated the picture in his paw so that it faced her. Putting her elbows on his desk, she put her chin in her paws and looked down at it. Now Coyotek could see straight down between her breasts as they hung just in front of him. The bra that held them was cut low and he could just make out an arc of pink through the lace. He licked his lips.

"This is not so bad." She commented, tapping the image of Coyotek chained to the floor of the classroom. "A little on the B & D side, but not yiffy. You must have drawn something worse than this to be here." She looked up at him, her eyes only a few centimetres from his. He could smell her perfume, some thing subtle that smelled like roses. Her warm breath ruffled the fur on his chin. "Show me what got you in trouble." She demanded.

Coyotek was finding it difficult to concentrate. He flipped to a clean page and tried to focus on it but his eyes kept straying back to her breasts. He sketched a quick image of male and female canines in a naked embrace. She didn't look impressed.

"We have sexier images than that in the art class textbooks." She chided him. "Maybe you need some inspiration for erotica?" She caressed his jaw with one paw, oh, but it was soft. As she did, she leaned close and rubbed her head against his. With a sigh, she straightened her arms, bringing her bust up until Coyotek's chin was wedged in her cleavage. It felt warm and comfortable. He fought the urge to drool. "How's that?" She pulled away from him and reached down to turn to another blank page.

Coyotek needed no further urging. With a few bold strokes, he captured her likeness on the paper. He drew her nude, squatting facing the observer, Tail up, paws on the inside of her thighs. Changing pens, he made her erect nipples pink, likewise for her open vagina. A few lines in just the right place made it look like it was moist. Finally, he gave her a sly expression. He leaned back, sudden sweat dripping down his face, and turned it toward her. Ferrari contemplated the likeness.

"Humph." She snorted as she picked it up and held it to the light. "You have a few of the details wrong, but that's to be expected when you have to 'fill in the blanks' as they say." As she spoke, she sauntered over to the door of the detention room and turned the lock. Coyotek noticed that unlike most of the doors in the school, this one had no window for outside observers to see in through. Ferrari wandered back to his desk and put the picture in front of him. "You didn't get sent here for studying anatomy. Finish it."

The Polish coyote was sweating harder now. He picked up his black pen again and thought for a moment. He started sketching, slowly at first then picking up speed. When he was done the image of Ferrari remained unchanged, but between her legs was his own likeness, cock half-buried in her wet pussy, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Slowly, he turned the picture around for her to see.

"Now that is more like it." she said appreciatively as she studied the image. "I was an art student before I came to this country to teach languages. I would have preferred to stay in Italy and continue my studies but unfortunately, I am not related to the Automobile making Ferraris. Ferrari means, 'blacksmith', did you know that?" She sat on the desktop before him and put the sketchbook on the desk beside them.

"No. I didn't know that Miss Ferrari." Coyotek replied, trying to keep eye contact but straying to the curve of the nearest breast.

"Call me Gina. It's a diminutive of my real name that all my friends use; and we are going to be friends, aren't we?" She fondled one fuzzy ear as she spoke.

"Is that short for Angelina?" He asked, unable to think of anything else to say.

"Something like that. Now, let us see how well you guessed." The mink stopped caressing his ear and undid the last two buttons on her blouse and it swung open. The fur in her belly was light and soft and Coyotek reached out with one paw to trail his digits across it. She did not object. The red lace bra was held closed with a small bow on the front, between her breasts. He tugged on one end and the knot unravelled, but her breasts were so firm that he had to peel the cups off them before he could see them whole. Her nipples were as pink and round as he had imaged, and they were just as hard.

Coyotek was drawn toward them. He took the nearest in his mouth and gently sucked on it while he rolled the other between his digits. Pressing his lips to her breast, he tickled the nipple inside with the tip of his tongue. He closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure when he felt her running her claws through the fur on the back of his head.

She had dropped her blouse and bra to the floor. Reaching under her skirt, she pulled the red thong off also and tossed it on the next desk. Coyotek took that as a sign and began to rub her thigh in circles, moving his paw further up each time until it was about to disappear under her skirt. To his surprise, she batted his paw away before he could go any farther.

"That's for later, maybe. We'll see." She said in a low promising voice. "We have a full week of detention together and we don't need to rush things, do we?" Coyotek shook his head vigorously in agreement. She stopped him by planting her lips on his, forcing his mouth open and sucking his tongue into her mouth. While she forced him back over the chair her paw found the zipper on his jeans and pulled it down. Her paw was inside in an instant. While their heads rolled together, her paw stoked him through the thin material of his boxer shorts.

She undid the button on his jeans and broke off the kiss. She removed his glasses and put them on top of his sketchbook. Coyotek put his head between her breasts and pressed them together, creating a warm, dark, safe place. While he breathed in her scent, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his pants and shorts and pulled both down to his knees at once. His penis popped up, already red and erect thanks to her earlier caresses.

With a screech of metal on old tile, she pushed the desk away and knelt before him. Her long brown hair was thrown back, one errant lock hanging down over one of her eyes as she looked up at him with the same sly smile he had drawn for her. She had one paw on his hip and she stoked his penis slowly with the other. Because his jeans and shorts held his knees together, she was not between them, but to one side, half turned into him. Still holding his gaze, she ran her tongue around her lips three times, and then she looked down.

"Well, you got this part accurate, right down to the veins!" Her lips followed her eyes and he experienced the warmth of her mouth again in a new place.

Coyotek let his arms hang limp at his sides and his chin rest on his chest as her head bobbed up and down. She was taking half of his length into her mouth each time, pulling back until her lips almost lost contact with the tip before plunging down again. He could feel her tongue on the underside of his cock as she went down; felt it glide along the slit in the end when she reversed. Her one paw gripped the base while she plucked at the hairs on his hip with the other. Coyotek felt his balls swell.

She must have felt it also. She shifted her arm to take them in her paw and gently rolled them together. This freed up the rest of his shaft and she took the opportunity to draw him entirely into her mouth, until her lips were sealed around the base. He could feel where her throat narrowed. She rotated her head and ran her tongue around him inside, worked her throat to produce more hot saliva to bath him in. He put his paws on her head and pressed down gently, forcing as much of his shaft as he could into her willing mouth.

She was pulling off now, but stopped when the head of his cock was still inside her steamy maw. She paused to tighten her lips around it, a very pleasurable sensation. She dropped down again, bumping her petite nose against his hard belly as she drove him into her. Immediately she repeated the sequence, again and again, squeezing his balls rhythmically as she did. The hot moist pleasure around the head of his cock made him shudder so that he was afraid that he would cut himself on her sharp teeth; and the sense of danger made it feel that much better.

His balls were tight now, drawn back against his pelvis in preparation. He fought back the urge but his cock began twitching like it had a life and a mind of its own. He couldn't hold it any longer. He called out to warn her, so that she could pull away in time.

"I'm going to come Gina, I'm going to ... oh God, I'm ... Arrggh!"

Gina squeezed the base of his shaft to gain an extra second, but instead of whipping her head back, she used the time to drive her face as far down into his crotch as she could go. She started swallowing and sucking air through her nose before the first molten stream hit the back of her throat. Not a drop escaped.

Coyotek panted and watched her cheeks being drawn in as she sucked the cum out of him. His hips were pumping weakly but she held him down with her paws, completely in control of the situation. As he settled back down in his chair she released him and pulled his cock slowly out of her mouth in one long last suction. She gripped it with both hands as she licked around the tip, making sure that nothing sweet would be left behind. When she was satisfied, she looked back up at him again, resting the tip against her lips. It was still tall and hard and showed no sign of changing.

"Been a while for you has it?" She asked saucily. She glanced at the clock above the door. "Maybe you're ready for the next step. It depends." She stood up and took a step back away from him. The fur on her chest and belly was damp from her efforts and clung to her skin. The waistband of her skirt was starting to darken from the sweat. "Remember that this is detention," she said breathlessly, obviously getting worked up herself, "and that you can take it as a punishment or an opportunity." She reached behind her to were the button above her tail held the skirt closed. "So what's it going to be kid?" She whipped off the skirt and stood proudly before him, naked but for the red velvet collar. Even without his glasses, his eyes went wide at the sight.

"Isn't it time you tried something new?"

* * * * * * * *

Jacob entered the Library. It was deserted, not unusual on a beautiful day like today with exams still a moth away. Even the desk where Ms. Jones ruled was abandoned. That was disappointing; he had wanted to ask if any new fiction had come in. He checked to see if anything he had not read lately had been returned but found nothing to his liking. Maybe there were some in the back room waiting to be catalogued?

Jacob had volunteered to assist in the library his first year of high school, when his interest in books still outweighed his desire to be seen as cool. Books that had been donated sat on a table in the storeroom behind her desk until she or one of her volunteers could enter it into the catalogue and label it. Donated works of fiction would often accumulate until the summer before she got around to dealing with them. Many never made it onto the shelves anyway; Jones was also the co-chair of the parent-teacher library committee and she saw herself as the chief censor and guardian of decency in literature.

"Hello? Ms. Jones?" Jacob called as he entered the storeroom. No answer, she must be gone for the day, he thought. The scheduled volunteer must have skipped out too. He turned on the dim lights and made his way around cartons of textbooks and periodicals to the sorting table.

He glanced at the pickings. Not much this year, some local authors, a couple of books of poetry. An entire set of books dedicated to some juvenile female detective from the fifties, and that was about it. Not even a graphic novel. Jacob was about to give up and leave when he saw that the door to the back room was ajar.

That was unusual. None of the volunteers were ever allowed into the backroom; Ms. Jones had the only key. It was rumoured to hold all of the books that had failed to meet her strict definition of decent and worthwhile. Jacob's mouth went moist at the thought of all that unread fiction waiting to be opened. He looked around to make sure that the door to the library was closed and that no one would see him, and then he slipped into the forbidden room.

It was a strange room, long and narrow, almost like a hallway, except it had a very low ceiling. The walls were covered with what looked like old mattresses. The floor was bare concrete. Jacob could not see to the far end of the room, it was so dim, but he didn't have to. What he had hoped to find was right there near the door, a table full of books. They were lined up in neat rows with their spines up so one could read them, although he had to brush the dust off the furthest ones first. He wondered how long she had been storing books there.

What do we have here, he pondered, scanning the rows. Some Margaret Atwood, a lot of Steven King, a large folio entitled 'The Homoerotic Photographer'; Jacob slipped that one in his pack for later, hoping it wasn't too gay. What else? 'The Kite Runner', 'Snow Falling on Cedars', 'Deliverance', wasn't that a movie too? 'Song of the Red Ruby', translated from the original Norwegian, he read. Jacob couldn't see why anything from Norway could be banned.

He noticed a small pile of books on their sides. They were at the far end of the table but they were already free of dust, in fact, the tabletop around them was cleaner than the rest. Jacob picked them up, wondering why they earned special attention. 'Histiore de Juliette' by Dontien-Alphonse François de Sade. Why did that name sound familiar? He opened it at random. It was written in French. So were several others. The last book had a silhouette of a naked kneeling feline, wearing what looked like a steel shackle as a collar. It was called 'The Story of O'. It appeared to be in English so Jacob opened it and began reading.

Holy crap, he thought after reading only a few paragraphs, this is one of those bondage and discipline books! The part he was reading involved the blindfolded O submitting herself to be gang raped at a party. All of her holes were violated in turn by a group of males that she could not see, only hear. Although the story wasn't explicit, Jacob could fill in the blanks with his vivid imagination. He flipped forward to find another scene.

While he searched another part of his mind wondered how this book came to be here. Did Ms. Jones seize it off one of the students or did someone drop it in the donation box as a joke? Suddenly he remembered where he had heard the name of the other author ... de Sade, the Marquis de Sade! The whole pile must be S and M! Why had she kept it?

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light Jacob could make out more details. The walls, where they weren't covered with padding, were made of old stone and rough mortar, probably dating back to the original nineteenth century building, he guessed. The room was about twenty paces deep, and ended in a forty-five degree mound of sand. Between him and the sand stood what looked like a nautilus exercise machine. Could this be part of some old gymnasium, he wondered? Crouching to avoid banging his head on the lights suspended from the low roof, Jacob went back to check it out.

The structure wasn't as old as the room, and it wasn't an exercise machine, although it may once have been the frame from one. It had the same sort of pulley wheels, braided steel cable and cross bars as an exercise machine, but there the similarities ended. Instead of weights and hand holds, the cables ended in leather straps and handcuffs, and not the fuzzy playful ones either; these were made of cold hard steel.

Jacob took one of the dangling cuffs in his paw and examined it. Weird shit, he thought and then he realized Ms. Jones had the only key, and the kinky books were all kept separately; Ms. Jones must be into this stuff! He dropped the cuff, decided that it was time he got out of there, and then remembered that he still had the book in his paw. Lifting it, he began to read another passage. As he did he tried to imagine Ms. Jones dressed in nothing but a shiny leather corset, chained to the frame, sweat dripping from her as he approached ... it wasn't working. It wasn't that he couldn't imagine the timid librarian submitting herself to it, just that it wasn't priming his pump, so to speak.

Jacob closed his eyes and brought the image of Miss Ferrari forth. Now there was someone he would like to chain to a wall. He had spent many hours since September imagining her naked, and it never failed to excite him. He saw her in the same outfit that he had imagined Ms. Jones in, but now Ferrari's breasts hung over the edge of the corset. He pictured her rounded belly, giving her an 'outtie' bellybutton. In his mind she was still in her high heels, but he added mesh stockings and a garter belt to hold them up. She had one thigh crossed in front of her, hiding her sex. Jacob strode toward her, a massive erection swinging free before him, saw her expression change from fear to wonder as the light fell upon it ...

Jacob had pulled his cock out of his pants and was stroking furiously as the vignette played inside in head. His shoulders were hunched forward and his eyes were clamped shut in concentration. He imagined himself turning a wheel on the frame to force Ferrari's legs apart, saw her glistening, open and ready for him. He reached out to steady himself ...and that's when the lights came on and the door behind him slammed.

Jacob had never lost an erection so fast in his life, not even when his mother came in to his room last year without knocking. He stood there frozen, limp penis in his paw, eyes wide open now, afraid to turn around. Behind him he heard a 'clunk' as if something heavy had been dropped on the table, and then the squeak of sensible shoes on concrete.

Ms. Jones came around in front of him. She wore an expression that he had never seen on her before; anger. Although she only came up to mid-chest on him, she seemed to be glaring down on him from on high. Jacob shrank into himself and looked to the floor.

"What are you doing back here?" She hissed, and then looking down, added, "Oh." She looked up again quickly. "You are a bad boy Jacob." Jacob was confused, why wasn't she screaming? Why is she talking to me like I was a kitten? Daring to look at her he saw that she was undoing the buttons on her high-necked blouse, exposing her throat and the top of her chest. "Are you a bad boy Jacob?" She asked in a strange tone of voice, "Are you?"

He couldn't answer. He dropped his penis and covered it with both paws. She continued to undress. She shrugged off her jacket and pulled the open blouse from her skirt, hanging them on the frame. She had nothing on underneath. Her breasts were small, like pleasant hills in the countryside, with brown nipples, the kind that are turned inside until excited. She reached behind her and undid her skirt, carefully stepping out of it so that it didn't drag on the dusty floor. No panties either, Jacob saw; had she been anticipating a rendezvous? With who? He was beginning to sweat now, although the concrete and stone room was very cool.

Ms. Jones stepped out of her walking shoes and removed her glasses. She stood before him wearing only a pair of pure-white socks that were rolled down to her ankles. Jacob could see now that he had been wrong about her; she was not plain, just plainly wrapped. Her eyes were deep, wide wells with delicate lashes that fluttered enticingly. Her face was perfect, from her little pink nose to the fuzz on her ears, and her lips were parted just the tiniest bit. Her thin tail, covered with the sheerest layer of velvety fur, swayed back and forth behind her. While she was slim, she was not boyish; her body had curves that he had not imagined. The small breasts sat high on her chest, the hips turned nicely to a pert little tush, and her thighs were round and full right up to the dark triangle below the slight bulge of her belly. She had an 'outtie' just like he had envisioned for Ferrari in his earlier fantasy.

He could feel his cock coming back to life, and he pressed down with his paws to suppress it. Ms. Jones saw him shift and she forced one of his paws away and put it on her breast. Although he barely dared to keep his paw there he felt the nipple pop out and harden against the pad of his palm. He could see the other doing the same. His prick was too big to hold down anymore, and he jumped when the tip swung up and touched the soft fur of her belly. He jumped again when he felt her small paw grasp the tip and begin squeezing it rhythmically.

"So are you a bad boy Jacob?" She asked again. "Have you guessed what I like to do here?" She gave his penis a strong squeeze. "Can you be a bad boy for me? Or should we just take you to the Vice-Principal?"

"I ... I can try ... to be ... bad ... bad for you." Jacob stammered, partially out of excitement and partially from fear that she would turn him in and claim the books were his; but how would she explain the frame with its straps and cuffs?

He tried to recall how this worked from the few movies he had seen with this kind of action in them. First you striped off their clothes, done. Then you strapped them to the wall, or framework in this case. After that you whipped them with feathers or silky flails while they moaned and writhed and got hot. Then you yiffed them in a half-dozen positions. Jacob felt that he could handle that, and his cock was certainly up for it.

She pulled his shirt off over his head, stretching to reach and rubbing up against his erection as she did. His pants and shorts had fallen down to his ankles so he toed off his sneakers and stepped out of them easily. He was naked as she was now, wearing only grey socks against the cold dusty floor.

Seeming his eagerness she patted him on the chest and gave him a warm smile. "You wait right here. No Peeking!" She scurried around him and he heard her pad to the table, heard the scrape of whatever she had dropped there being picked up. A moment later he felt her behind him, slipping something over his head. He opened his eyes but all was dark. She had covered his eyes with a silk scarf by the feel of it. Wasn't she supposed to wear the blindfold, he wondered?

"Turn around." She said as she pushed him around in a half circle. "Now take a step back. Good. Hold your paws up like you were bench pressing. Excellent. Give me a ... second ... here. He felt the cuffs go around his wrists at the same time that he heard them ratchet shut. What the hell was going on? He pulled his arms down but they only moved a few centimetres before jerking to a halt at the ends of the wires. While he struggled against them, he felt another set close around his ankles. How had she learned to do that so quickly?

"Uh, Ms. Jones?" He warbled. "Ms. Jones? What's going on?"

In answer she pulled the scarf from his head. He looked around quickly. He was tied with his paws up and his legs spread in the opening of the frame. The cuffs only allowed a little movement, not enough to lash out or sit down. He couldn't even turn away from her. She was in front of him, and she did not look like the shy vulnerable mouse of a moment ago.

She had donned shiny high-heeled leather boots that came up to mid thigh; red ones. She wore a matching corset much like the one he had imagined, except that it had chrome spikes embedded in it. Leather opera gloves completed the ensemble. She had loosened her hair and it flowed behind her like waves on the sea. Her eyes were afire and her lips were parted again, but now her teeth were showing in an evil grin. In her paw she held a whip, and it wasn't made of feathers or silk. She cracked it in mid air to demonstrate that it was all business.

Jacob trembled. His erection had gone again. All desire had left him. Ms. Jones looked terrifying.

"Are you ready, slave?" She snarled, actually snarled. Jacob had not known that mice could snarl. Another crack of the whip reminded him of the seriousness of his position.

"Please Ms. Jones." He begged. "Don't do this, I'm afraid!" The begging seemed to please her. She twirled the whip around and the end smacked his butt just beside his tail. "Eagh!" He squealed. "Stop! Stop or ... or I'll scream!"

"Oh yes. You'll scream al right." She stepped up against him and grabbed one of his nipples with her paw and gave it a vicious twist. She grinned up at him while he screamed in shock. "You see this room slave? This was the old shooting range from the original school building. Shooting was an acceptable activity for young males in those days." While she talked she wove the whip around his leg and between his butt cheeks. "But Males were strong back then, not weak kittens like we have today." She pulled hard on the whip and it burned a line around his thigh and under his balls. Jacob screamed again.

"This room is sound proof, slave. It was left just it was when the new school was built. There's too much lead in it to be used for anything, not even storage. But I found a use for it." She put the spike of one heel on top of his foot and pressed down, hard. Jacob whimpered as the pressure built, unable to pull his foot away. "So go ahead and scream. Give the mistress what she wants ... and maybe ... just maybe ... The mistress will give you a reward.

Jacob screamed, not only from pain, but from despair also. How had he gotten into this? When would it end? The whip was swung with great skill and it bit at his sides, his buttocks, between his legs, dangerously close to his balls. He tried to pull them up inside, to no avail. He thanked God and his parents for the thick layer of fur that he had inherited. He curled his tail between his legs in an effort to protect himself but she pulled it away and he discovered what the other straps were for. Now he was suspended face up, parallel to the floor, knees and elbows clamped tight, tail pulled back to expose the hole underneath. Jacob had never felt more vulnerable in his life. He began to cry.

Ms. Jones stood there panting, a satisfied smile on her face. She brushed her hair back over her ears. She put her weight on one leg as she contemplated her handiwork. She nodded, as if to congratulate herself for a job well done. She dropped the whip to the floor and started to unbutton the corset.

"Not doing it for you, is it?" She asked, regarding his limp penis. "Don't worry, soon you'll come to love it ... or else. Since you are new to this though, I'll forgive you this time." She dropped the corset and began peeling off the gloves. "I'll show you what your mistress can do for you when you take your punishment like a real male. She stepped up, keeping the red boots on, and took his penis in one little paw. "Come on, kitty. Show me that you can be big about this."

Jacob was surprised when his penis twitched in her paw. Hey, he tried to tell it, this is the sadistic bitch that just bet up your two buddies down there, but it wouldn't listen; it had no conscience and less memory it seemed. He had to admit, the way she was massaging his dick felt good, but after her previous treatment a kick in the ass would feel good too. He strained against his bonds, willed himself to remain aloof and ignore her ministrations, but neither the shackles nor his pecker were cooperating, not with him anyway. He could feel it growing in her paw as the blood rushed into it.

Ms. Jones continued to caress his penis as it grew. She squeezed the head and then stroked it, squeezed and stroked, squeezed and stroked. Soon she could not close her paw around it anymore. When that happened she leaned on his hip, took it in both paws and lowered her head to it. She didn't take much of it in her mouth, just the tip, but she lathered it with saliva and forced her tiny mouth over it again and again while she ran he paws up and down his shaft. Jacob began to moan.

If nothing else, the abuse had given him stamina. Normally he would have come just thinking of this. The mouse continued to pleasure his penis as it grew longer and harder than ever before. He gritted his teeth when the strain on the skin started to be painful, and she noticed that, perhaps had been waiting for it. She raised her head and looked at him with a gentle expression now.

"Punishment and reward, that's how we train our slaves, next time, you'll know what the reward is and you'll anticipate it. Then you'll get hard while I'm still using the whip. Eventually you'll be like this before I even enter the room, and then you'll do anything, submit to anything, and you'll be free." She released his penis and stood beside him. In one fluid move she swung a leg over him and sat on his thighs. He swayed a bit as he hung there, two feet off the floor. Good thing she's like a size zero, he thought, otherwise this could really hurt.

She put her paws on his chest and hooked her boots over his knees. Then she stretched her legs to raise her hips up high, framing his jutting shaft. Jacob could see that her fur was damp with sweat, her nipples erect, her cunt open and dripping. The sight of her poised above him only made him harder, and he thought that the skin around his cock would burst from the pressure.

She lowered herself down on to him, seeking the tip by feel alone, the swollen lips of her vulva kissing his prick several times before they found to tip in just the right place. She sighed as it entered her, softly at first, then deeper as she was forced apart by his girth, and still she kept going, taking more in. Her mouth became round and she cried "ou-ou-ou" as the last half of his shaft disappeared. Just as he felt her little ass settle against his balls he also felt the tip of his cock press up against something inside her. He had filled her up.

Ms. Jones wrapped her tail around one of his thighs, flexed her legs and started to rise. Jacob watched fascinated. He had never though of himself as 'big' in that department, but he was built proportionately he supposed. In comparison to the petite Ms. Jones he looked like a porn star. Her cunt clung to his cock as he was pulled out of her, turned back on itself when it slid in.

Every few strokes she would stop at the top of her rotation and buck her hips so that his tip rubbed against the spongy pad of sensitive tissue inside her. This also caused her clit to rub against his shaft, bumping across the knotted veins that stood out like rivers in reverse. When she did this a smile would light up her face and she would cry out softly "ah-ah-ah-ah". Then she would slide all the down again and pump his shaft for a dozen more strokes before doing it again.

After a lifetime of this Jacob was ready to come, but managed to hold off by concentrating on the pain in his joints caused by hanging from the wires. He noticed that she had stopped using her legs and was now riding his shaft by rotating her hips alone. She pressed back against him as she did, maximizing the contact between clitoris and penis, moving faster and faster. With a cry she fell to his chest and wrapped her arms around him, he hips bucking wildly as she ground her clit against the base of his shaft. Jacob felt a sudden hot rush inside, his cock engulfed in liquid fire. Then it gushed forth, soaking him and her.

He had never felt anything like it, because, unless you counted that one paw-job under the tree last autumn, he was a virgin until a few minutes ago. He forgot the pain in his arms and legs, and the lingering sting of the whip, and he released with such force that he was sure that she would pop off and fly across the room. She didn't, but she sighed with pleasure when she felt herself filled with his fire, and she bit his nipple, but not too hard.

They stayed like that for a few moments, him hanging limp from the cables, she lying along him. His cock was still engorged inside her, and he could feel her breathing through it. Her head was against his chest, her hot breath on his nipple. Her tiny claws dug into the fur of his shoulders.

She stirred finally. Brought her arms up and propped herself up on his chest, looking down on him.

"This must hurt." She said, meaning the position he was suspended in.

"Its' starting to." He admitted.

"Let me fix that." She pulled off his cock slowly and it came out with a soft pop. She swung herself off him and moved to the side of the frame. Adjusting a few pulleys and then turning a wheel, she raised him up vertical again, but didn't stop there. She continued to turn the wheel until he was hanging face down in a kneeling position, his tail up.

"That will be more comfortable for now." She said as she bent to gather up her outfit.

"For ... for now?" Jacob asked, incredulous.

"Why yes. You didn't expect me to let you go while you are so obviously enjoying this are you?" She nudged the tip of his still erect penis with her booted foot. "I'll be back after I close up the library. I think a few blindfolded 'trust' exercises are in order." With that she turned and strode out of the room.

"Wait." Jacob called weakly, but the sound of the door closing cut him off. Now what he thought? He tried to pull his paws together to see if he could undo the restraints but they stopped before the tips of his digits could touch. He spread them to try and climb the frame in order to get more slack, but could not reach there either. He gave up and hung limp.

He didn't know how long he hung there, it seemed like hours but it was probably only a few minutes. It was long enough for him to imagine his mother searching franticly for him, unaware that he had been kidnapped by a sadistic librarian and was being held only a short distance from home. He was sure that Ms. Jones would never let him go, not until he was so deep under her spell that he couldn't accuse her if he wanted to. How old would he be then he wondered? Twenty-five? Thirty? He would be ancient! What would she feed him on all those years? Pizza?

He heard the door open and he made the effort of looking up. He had been expecting to see Ms. Jones with another bag of painful toys, but this was someone new, and it took him a few seconds to realize who it was.

"What is going on here?" The familiar voice of authority rang out.

Jacob had never been so happy to see Mister O'Neil in his life.

* * * * * * * *

Joseph tossed another ball at the basket. He had scattered a dozen of them around the court and whenever a rebound bounced out of reach he would walk to the nearest one and start again. He wasn't trying very hard, he had really come here to think.

How had Coyotek known about his mother's birthmark, he wondered? He hadn't told anyone except Jacob, and Jacob said that he had forgotten about it until he saw the picture. Had the coyote been stalking the streets at night? Had he peeking into some committee room and seen her like that? Had he ... been with her?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that the paw on his shoulder took him completely by surprise. He turned quickly and was face-to-face with the scowling Bernadette Benz.

"Gnaaggh!" he cried as he tried to run backwards; unfortunately he stepped on one of the basketballs. For a second or two he managed to keep his balance, doing a comical little dance on top of the ball, before gravity and momentum conspired to bring him down. His left leg buckled under him as he came down and he cried out again, in pain this time.

"Don't move." The bear ordered in the voice that she used when directing thirty or more females around the gym. Joseph complied, he wasn't intending to leap up and dance away in any event. Benz dropped to her knees beside him. "I know first aid and have medical training. Can I touch you?" She asked like she was reading it from a card. Joseph nodded consent, hoping the ambulance wouldn't take too long.

The bear rolled him over on his back like he weighed nothing. She checked that he was actually breathing and that he had a pulse. Then she ran her paws up and down his sides and legs to check for other injuries while she questioned him about the pain. At last she took the injured leg and began squeezing it carefully, turning it one way and the other. When she tried to bring the knee up to his chest the pain became intense and he cried out again.

"It's not broken." She said as she laid the leg down beside his other. "It looks like you pulled the adductor longus muscle on your inner thigh. It's spasmed, locked tight to prevent further injury. You have a game tomorrow night?" He nodded again. "If we act now I may be able to loosen it up and get the blood flowing again before it swells. Otherwise, you'll need three days of icepacks and anti-inflammatory drugs before you can walk on it again. Let's go."

Before he could protest, she scooped him up off the floor and clutched him to her chest. She strode to the Females' locker room exit and kicked the double doors open. Angling him through the doors she headed for her office. Joseph forgot his pain as she carried him through the forbidden female territory, but was disappointed to find that it looked exactly the same as the male locker room. The shower room was empty too, what a gyp. Distracted from his pain though, he did notice that he could feel a couple of features through the bulky sweat suit that Benz was wearing. So she does have breasts, he marvelled.

The bear's office was open and she turned sideways to enter, pulling his head against her chest as she did. He could feel her breast flatten against his ear and wondered what they looked like. The males always speculated that she had a chest like Arnie Schwarzenegger, hard and flat, but this felt soft, bouncy even.

She had a training table covered with files in her office. She swept them off with a single swipe of her paw and lay him down on the table. He tried to straighten out his leg but the motion sent a bolt of pain shooting up into his groin and he yelped again. Benz pressed his leg down slowly but forcefully until it was straight.

"I trained as a physical therapist before becoming a teacher." She informed him. "But I need to see what I'm doing. These pants will have to come off."

Joseph was about to object but she had already pulled off his sneakers and socks and was undoing his pants. She pulled them straight off without disturbing his injured leg and looked down on him as he lay there in only his Tee shirt and baggy boxers.

"The boxers need to go too. Here," she tossed him a small towel, "cover yourself with this." She tugged them off briskly and he barely got the towel over his crotch in time.

Benz prodded and poked his inner thigh, felt along the muscle and the tendons until her digits were jammed between his leg and his balls. All the while, she mumbled to herself and stared at some anatomic charts on the wall. Joseph was afraid to speak, but he kept his paws cupped over the towel that barely covered his cock and balls and tried to pull them as far from where she was working as possible. Soon he could feel her digits digging into his thigh as she mashed the tangled muscle back into shape.

"Just try to relax wolf, you are too tense." She was really pressing hard, and was starting to sweat from the effort. She paused and stepped back, pulled off her track pants and then peeled off the top. "What's your name?"

"Joseph." He answered. He realized that he was staring at her. This was a sight that no one else had ever claimed to have seen, Bernadette Benz without her baggy tracksuit. She was wearing a tight white Tee shirt with red trim and red silk shorts with a white stripe, the school colours, he realized. The shirt clung to her, damp from her sweat, and outlined not only an impressive set of muscles, but also a beautiful pair of Amazonian breasts. He tore his eyes off them and looked down. Her legs were muscled but shapely, covered with a light layer of glossy black fur. The red shorts disappeared between the muscles of her thighs and the triangle of her crotch, and when she turned slightly, he saw that her ass was firm and round, with just a puff of a tail sticking out the hole in the back of the shorts.

The broad shoulders, the thick neck, the chiselled lines of her face and short hair all seemed to click into place now that he could she her true form. Put an old rug over a classic car and it will look like any old junker, it was a good way to keep the neighbours from getting jealous, his dad said. Joseph supposed that the same theory would work to prevent unwanted male attention. Benz wasn't a hulking monster, she was a Goddess, an Olympian come down to tend to her followers. He relaxed in her paws, fascinated by the way her muscles moved under the shirt, and the way her breasts jiggled when she moved. He could just make out the outline of her nipples. There were no bra lines under the shirt he realized, those breasts were holding up all on their own! Too bad that she was a lesbian, he thought with regret. One of his paws fell away from his groin.

Benz continued to work his leg and he could feel the muscle loosening as she went. A warm sensation crept up his leg as she massaged the blood back into the relaxed tissue. Soon the warmth had reached his groin, and then it spread across and upward. It was a very pleasant sensation and Joseph let himself drift away on it. His mind began to wander, comparing the few females he had seen naked, except for his mother, to what he imagined Benz must look like without the shirt and shorts. There was no competition, Benz won in every category that he could think of, and he thought that he might be falling in love.

The bear stopped abruptly. She was staring down at him, a funny expression on her face. Joseph suddenly realized that a particular part of him had already fallen for her, or risen, to be completely accurate. While he had been fantasizing, he had let go of the towel and it was now shaped like a tent, with him as the tent pole. The towel had risen so far that his testicles were exposed, and they were resting against the back of one of her paws. What would she do now, he wondered; smack it down with a baseball bat? Joseph didn't dare breathe.

"I think we are done here." She said, and she slowly pulled her paw out from under his balls. She looked at his face, trying to read his expression? She was biting her lip, her other paw still resting on his thigh. She plucked at his shirt, his only remaining garment.

"You're filthy." She said in a low voice that Joseph found very pleasant. "You need wash up, and run hot water on that leg to keep the blood flowing. You should not try to walk too far on it at first though. Here," she slid an arm behind his shoulders and sat him up on the table, "let me help you to my private shower; can't have you using the female facilities, eh?"

She eased him down to the floor. He put his weight on the bad leg tentatively. It felt okay, so he stood up on it. Looking down he saw that his erection had not faded, but was still covered by the small towel. He put his paws over it to keep it on, turning red from embarrassment at the same time. He wished that it would go away, that he could whip the towel away to reveal nothing, like some magic trick, but her presence had giving it a mind of its own. She was standing up against him, steadying him in case his leg buckled again, one breast pressing up against his upper arm. Her strong paws on his chest and back. He breathed in through his nose and smelled her sweat, and ... something else? He shook his head to clear it. He was letting his fantasies take control.

"Don't feel bad about that." She said, and he knew that she was referring to the erection. "These things happen during this kind of treatment, it's just the increase in blood flow to the area that causes it. A shower will take care of it."

"Right. Blood flow. Need a shower." He mumbled as she led him to the back of the office and through a steel door there. They were in a small change room with a wooden bench and a large locker. Just beyond it was a large open shower, separated from the change room by a ridge of tile. The locker was open and Joseph glanced inside. There were more track suits in there, and a white lace bra and panties hung on a hook on the door. Joseph stepped over the vestibule and Benz followed him inside.

He stood against the far wall while she adjusted the shower. She made it strong and hot, so hot that the shower filled with steam. Through the mist, he could see that the spray was soaking her, making her shirt almost transparent. She stepped back and he could see her nipples clearly now, were they larger? She stepped backwards out of the shower.

"Just throw your shirt out and I'll find you a clean track suit from the school supply." Then she was gone.

Joseph peeled his shirt off and leaned out of the shower cautiously, his erection was not going away and felt harder if anything. The room was empty. He tossed his shirt onto the bench and went to stand under the steamy blast. He squirted some shampoo from a bottle hanging from the shower head and rubbed it into his fur. The hot water felt good, the force of the spray stimulating. He couldn't stop thinking about how she had looked as she backed out of the shower, silhouetted in the entrance for a brief instant it seemed that she was naked. He applied more shampoo, rubbing it into his belly and sides. His paws began to drift lower, and he forced himself to pull them away.

The soft touch of a paw on his inner thigh, between the cheeks of his butt was startling. He jumped, but didn't turn. The paw continued to probe, it touched the back of his sack. Another paw cam around his hip and went down between his legs, caressed the other thigh. His balls were being rubbed between them. He dared to look down; black fur, bear's paw, feminine but strong. He sighed with relief and leaned back against Bernadette Benz.

"Do you wear the baggy track suits to keep people from staring at you?" He asked

"Yes."

"You're not a lesbian, are you?"

"No. Now hand me the shampoo."

They didn't speak again. She rubbed the shampoo between her paws until they were white with foam. She pressed up against his back, breasts squeezed between them, as she applied the suds to his erection and balls. She stoked his shaft with one paw, overhand, rotating the wrist as it travelled back and forth. The other paw came at him from behind and between his legs, working the suds around his balls and into his crevices. A shiver went through him as she ran the paw up between his buttocks to the base of his tail, briefly touching the hole there.

He tried to reach back for her but could only get as far as her hips, so he held her there. Her paw continued its slow journey along his shaft, from tip to base and back again. The other was in front now too, down between his thighs spreading the shampoo on his legs. She was swaying as she caressed him, using the hot water and foam as a lubricant to massage his back with her breasts. Joseph couldn't believe that this was happening to him, not with Benz, and nobody else would believe him either he was sure.

Benz released his cock as the suds ran out. She held him under the spray for a moment longer to rinse it all off and then she turned him around. Joseph had his first look at her in her natural state, and it took his breath away. The breasts were as full and as firm as the translucent tee shirt had promised, the nipples dark and round. They stood up quite far, and water dripped from them to fall straight to the floor. The water made rivers and tributaries in her short black fur as it ran down her, sculpting her muscles in a way that would have made Michelangelo jealous. Joseph's eyes followed one stream down between her breasts and across her tight belly to where it disappeared in the darker triangle between her legs. He felt his mouth watering.

Benz was as tall as he was, and he only wished that he had a physique like hers. He reached out and took a breast in each paw, felt how firm they were. He ran his pads over the nipples lightly. She pressed into them as he did. Her paws were on his cock again, massaging it as before, fondling his balls. Joseph wanted to pull her to him now, but restrained himself. Opportunities like this came only once and he wanted to acquit himself well. Instead of rushing in, he bent his head to her breast and reached down between her legs with his paw.

He sucked at her nipple, licked the rim, nuzzled the underside of one breast then the other. Her legs parted slightly as his paw slid between them, leaving a comfortable triangle above her thigh muscles and below her sex that was just the right size. He caressed her mound, traced the lines of sensitive skin where leg became abdomen, squeezed her and felt the hard nub at her apex through the flesh that surrounded it. Sliding his paw back and forth, rotating the pad of his thumb against the still buried clit, he sensed the change in texture as she opened to him and the lips inside swelled and spread.

He held her against him with one paw on a solid buttock while he continued to massage her vulva. She was open and wet, wet in a way the shower couldn't account for, and his digits were sliding into her as they slid along her opening. Turning his paw slightly, he let his middle digit sink into her. As he drew it out, he brushed it across the exposed clit and circled it once before plunging it back inside her. Her hips began to move in time with his caresses.

Benz let him work her slit for a few minutes, keeping the steady stoking of his cock going all the while. It was just slow enough to keep him on the edge without going over, and it felt better than anything he had experienced with own paws, or even his few hurried coupling with the females who stalked the school team. He could stay like this forever.

She had other plans however. Shifting her weight, she pulled away from his paw, dropping his cock at the same time. She slid over so that she was hip to hip against him, his penis trapped between their bellies. Looking him straight in the eyes she set her feet, and then she lifted one of them off the floor.

Joseph looked down and watched in disbelief as she brought her leg straight out to the side and kept raising it. Her hip rotated and he felt the muscles in her butt strain as her leg continued past ninety degrees. Trembling slightly, it continued until the foot was pointing straight up at the shower ceiling. Her hip turned again and the leg rotated until the back pf her knee was facing him. Then she lowered it until the calf was resting on his upper chest, the ankle just above his shoulder.

She let go of him with the paw on the same side and reached down behind and under. Shifting slightly she found his prick and pulled it from between them. Lowering it, she quested for the tip, shifting the leg she stood on and her opposite hip until she felt it at her opening. Pressing up with her paw, she slid it in and settled her weight down on him until they were sealed together.

She was warm and moist inside. Their eyes were locked together again. He saw her face tighten as she concentrated on keeping her balance while she gathered herself for her next move. Then, working her legs and hips and the muscles inside her canal, she began to move upwards, pulling herself off his shaft. Half way up she relaxed and slid back down until her clit pressed against the base. With a flex of one buttock, she ground herself against the bone of his pelvis and then she repeated the sequence.

Joseph brought his paws down to her butt and gripped one in each, spreading them apart. When she strained to raise herself he flexed his arms and pulled her higher, until just the tip of his cock remained inside her. When he felt her relax, he helped regulate her descent, pushing his hips forward to make his tip press harder into the tissues that were swelling inside her. All the while the shower continued to fall, adding to their heat, washing away the new sweat they produced.

Benz was speeding up now, Moving up and down his shaft faster than before, but they could only go so fast in this position and the concentration necessary to maintain the position was making them last longer than he had imagined possible. He wondered how long they could keep this up; he would certainly collapse from exhaustion before her. His injured leg was already starting to twitch.

Maybe she sensed that he was tiring, maybe she was just eager to conclude. Whatever the reason, with a grunt of effort she brought her leg off his chest and back to the floor in one smooth movement. She stepped back from him, making his penis pop out and wobble between them. Without a word, she turned and bent over at the hips. She grasped the safety rail that was bolted to the wall of the shower and looked back over her shoulder at him. He lips were parted, her eyes half closed, she rolled her hips at him provocatively. He looked down at her there. She had spread her legs so that her sex was the zenith of a furry black bipod. Her ass was tilted up toward him, her tail held high. Her cunt was exposed, open and inviting.

Joseph stepped between her legs and eased his cock into her. How well they fit together, both at the same height. He stood comfortably; holding her hips as he pulled back then pushed forward. He looked down and watched his cock slide in and out of her, saw her tail hole pucker as she worked the inner muscles to massage it when it was fully inside. Her twat pulled at him, tried to suck him deeper. She pulled and pushed on the safety bar, driving against him harder and faster.

He had started off slowly but he could tell that the time for patience was past. He let himself go and drove his cock into her as fast and as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a deep throaty growl that came from the bear as she bared her teeth and rammed herself back against him just as hard. He felt her vagina tighten around him, trapping him inside. Instead of fighting it he bent down and massaged a breast with one paw and rubbed her clit with the other, his hips bucking uncontrollably in short spasms.

That did it for both of them. He didn't know which of them came first, but he felt the scorching fluids mingle and surround him, felt them running down his legs.

She arched her back and brought her torso up as their spasms slowed, but kept him inside her. Joseph caressed her belly and breasts, holding his hips against her to keep the wonderful sensation he was experiencing going. She reached back, pulled his hips against her, and rolled against him. The water of the shower continued to fall on his back, but it had lost its initial heat. Soon it would turn chilly, until the boilers had a chance to catch up and produce more. He shivered.

She sensed the change too. Reluctantly she pulled away from him and turned the shower off. Still silent, she reached around the entrance and produced a pair of towels. She tossed him one and proceeded to wipe herself off with the other. Joseph did not know what to say, of even if he should say anything. Taking her lead, he wiped himself dry in silence, but he never took his eyes off her, admiring her body as she bent to dry herself.

When she was dry enough, she took the towel from him and led him by the paw back to her office. Joseph noticed that she had closed and locked the door before joining him in the shower. On the way, she grabbed the bra and panties off the hook on the locker door. Once inside the office she released his paw, leaving him standing in the middle of the room. She bent and put first one leg then the other into the panties and pulled then up. They looked great on her, the pure white lace standing out in contrast to her jet black fur. Next, she pulled on the bra. After adjusting the panties around her tail and the cups around her breasts, she turned to regard him. She had a thoughtful look on her face, like she was trying to come to a decision.

Joseph was suddenly worried. His clothes were nowhere to be seen. Despite what had just happened, he was still a naked student in the wrong change room. What was she thinking, he wondered nervously, had she had her fun and decided to turn him in? What if Benz pulled on a tracksuit and called O'Neil? The shower had washed all traces of her from him and no one would believe the truth.

Benz turned and opened a large drawer in her desk. She began rummaging through it. Finding what she was searching for she straightened. She turned, and Joseph was even more confused by what she held in her paws.

"There is one more thing that I'd like to do with you." She said in a dreamy voice, and extended the device she held with a snap.

* * * * * * * *

Coyotek stared at the penis. It wasn't a particularly notable penis, and he didn't have anything against penises in general, he had one himself, after all. It was just that a few moments ago the owner of this particular penis had been sucking Coyotek's penis.

"Isn't it time you tried something new?" Gina Ferrari, the acknowledged hottest 'female' teacher in the school asked.

Coyotek was dumbstruck. He examined her ... him ... her, closely. Shapely legs, check. Bouncy breasts, check. Rounded tush, check. Deep sensuous eyes, check. Vagina, opps.

"I'm what is referred to as 'Pre-Op'. My real name is Eugene, but only until the sexual reassignment surgery, then I can change it legally. And I am a woman." She said with conviction as she squatted down in from of him, hiding the penis. "Only a few others know. The superintendent, the Vice-Principal and that horny gym teacher, Scott. You should have seen the look on his face when he reached down and found little Eugene there; he almost bit my tongue off." Gina sighed, and her expression became sad. "There are not many that accept us, even after the surgery."

She looked up at Coyotek again, hope shone in her eyes. "But I sensed something different in you. An artist that takes what he sees and interprets it for the rest of us. Someone who doesn't judge something until he's experienced it for himself. Someone daring. Are you that someone Coyotek? Are you ready to take on something new?"

In answer, Coyotek reached over her to the next desk and picked up his glasses, his pens and the picture that he had drawn earlier. He looked at the image for a few moments in silence then he put black pen to paper and began drawing. Selecting pink and light brown markers, he made some final adjustments to it before showing it to her.

He had added a penis and testicles to her likeness, and adjusted the hole his own penis was disappearing into, making it look round instead of oval, and further back. Their expressions of sly delight remained unchanged.

Coyotek shrugged. "Am I that guy? Why the hell not."

* * * * * * * *

"What is going on here?" The familiar voice of authority rang out.

Jacob had never been so happy to see Mister O'Neil in his life.

"Over here," he cried, "help me!"

The Vice-Principal strode down the length of the old shooting range toward him. He was wearing a white shirt and tie, black slacks and leather shoes, as always, and his normalcy brought a sense of security to Jacob.

He was still hanging in a knelling position two feet off the ground, his tail hole exposed and penis dangling. He felt embarrassment but there was nothing that he could do about it for now; he just wanted to get down and go curl up in his bed for a few days. Mister O'Neil was studying the cables and shackles carefully.

"What happened here?" He demanded. Jacob told him, barely speaking at first but he became expansive as the Vice-Principal drew more details out of him. When he was done, O'Neil walked around the frame several times, his chin in his paw, grunting occasionally. Jacob wondered why he simply didn't release him, and then realized that Jones must have taken the keys with her when she left.

"Is there anything you can do?" He asked as O'Neil circled. "Do you have anything that will help?"

"Oh yes," The VP said, "I was just wondering where to begin. I think that I have just what we need." From deep in his pocket, he pulled out a rectangular block wrapped in foil. Jacob stared at the words printed on it.

"Butter?" He asked, confused. "Wouldn't a pair of wire cutters or a hacksaw work better? I think that these cuffs are too tight for butter to help me slip out of them."

"What a silly kitten you are. No wonder the Mistress was so taken with you." O'Neil had moved behind Jacob now. Jacob heard the sound of a zipper and the 'clunk' of something metal striking the floor. Looking between his own legs, he saw that O'Neil's slacks were on the floor around his ankles. The Vice-Principal had red welts running across his calves and thighs, just like the ones Ms. Jones had left on Jacob. The next sound scared Jacob more than anything that he had ever heard in his young life; the sound of foil being peeled back.

"I've been good for the Mistress too; and now it's time for my reward."

"Noooooooooo ......"

* * * * * * * *

Bernadette Benz approached Joseph with the cloth tape measure doubled between her paws, snapping it playfully.

"Let's see how you measure up."

Joseph half expected her to drop to the floor before him and grab his limp dick but instead she put the tape around his neck. She checked the tape and wrote the result on a form that sat on her desk. She then proceeded to measure his skull, his jaw, the length and girth of all his extremities and the angle formed when he spread his legs shoulder width. About the only thing she didn't measure was the length of his cock.

When she was done the top half of the form was all filled in. Benz added some of the numbers together, subtracted others and multiplied the results, filling in the bottom half as she went. Dividing the product by his weight, she was done. She turned to him with a smile.

"Just as I suspected. Perfectly average."

"Oh, that's great." He said, crestfallen. "Just what a guy wants to hear."

"You don't understand. Some species have an advantage in one sport or another because of their build. Long arms and a short torso means that a boxer can protect his vital organs while out-reaching his opponent. Long legs make for better sprinters and thick abdomens make for better power lifters. But you have none of that."

"So I'm good for nothing?"

"No. You won't be great ant anything in particular, but you can be good at everything. Have you never heard of the Decathlon?"

Joseph got the picture now. He had never thought of competing in track and field before, being not quite fast enough to win the races and not quite strong enough to be a champion in the power events. However, he could outrun the javelin throwers and throw a discus further than the marathoners. He was no superstar at any sport, but he was a valuable player on every senior team. On average, he reflected, he was above average at everything, just not the very best at anything. He started to smile.

"If we start training now I am sure that I can get you a full scholarship to a good university." Bernadette promised.

Joseph's smile disappeared. "There's not enough time for that. I'm a senior; I graduate in two months."

"Not if you manage to fail a couple of required classes you don't." She said with a sly smile. "What do you say? How does a year of 'personal training' sound to you?"

"Lets do this." He said eagerly.

"Good. We can begin right now." Putting the pencil down she stepped up to him and cupped his balls in one paw. "We can start with endurance training."

* * * * * * * *

The three didn't walk home together as they had planned that day. In fact, Jacob didn't walk home at all, he sort of crawled, his ass stinging from the repeated slaps, the sound of O'Neil shouting "giddy up" still ringing in his ears. Coyotek wasn't home when he got back, which gave him a chance to change and clean up. He had phoned Joseph, but according to his mother, he had not come home yet either.

Not that it mattered. When His mother got a hold of Mister O'Neil later that day, he didn't mention the sketchbook or his suspicions about the graffiti bandits. Jacob, for reasons of his own, never told his mother what happened that day either. The three never got together to pull off another event.

They began to drift apart. Coyotek was changed, not the same coyote anymore. He disappeared after school and stayed out late. There were rumours that he was seeing one of the teachers on the sly. If he was, he didn't confide in Jacob or Joseph. He still drew incessantly, and he stilled showed his work to Jacob, but Jacob was finding his subject matter a little disturbing lately. It involved tentacles and groups and too many penises for Jacob's tastes. Coyotek would be going back to Poland right after graduation, and suggested that Jacob keep in contact with him on a website that he was contributing too. Jacob checked it out one night and had bad dreams for a week afterwards.

Jacob was shocked and angry when Joseph flunked out in math and English. Why hadn't he come to him for help, Jacob wondered, like he did every year? Now he was being kept back and Jacob would be away at university alone.

Joseph wasn't around much either; he was involved in a training program, run by Bernadette Benz no less. Joseph claimed that it would be his ticket out of this town. Jacob supposed that she was a good coach; despite whatever physical flaws she was hiding under those baggy tracksuits. When he asked Joseph whether she was doing a good job, Joseph would only say that he was totally satisfied.

As for Jacob, he avoided the library for the rest of the year, doing all of his research at home on the Internet. He gave up his dream of becoming a famous graffiti artist and concentrated preparing himself for university and the Bachelor of Business Administration program he had been accepted in.

Although they never sat under the tree again that year, the fame from their earlier exploits lasted through to the graduation ceremony and the party afterwards, where Jacob was yiffed repeatedly by a pair of Siamese Cheerleaders, twins actually; but that's another story.