FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The bar was only half full that evening, which was more than enough to ensure that its patrons were enjoying themselves. Pool tables were occupied, but not overcrowded; spaces at the bar ensured that one could get whatever libation might be desired, within a reasonable amount of time. The mixture of slaves and Masters, collared and free, curious and jaded, circling outside and reaching from inside, all mingled with reasonable decorum and a minimum of genuine turf war. Both property and Owners were, on the whole, well-behaved.

The exception to this rule was the small commotion centering itself in the smaller of the two lavatories in the place. The sounds emanating from within were a thick syrup of grunting, laughter, curses and slanders, with something like fear masquerading as command. Of the three stalls, only one was being used. From it, a muscular tiger, clad in leather from the waist upward and nothing below, stepped out backward, his still-hard cock shining with accumulated cum. "Worth it," he affirmed, a lascivious grin on his muzzle as he reached for paper towels to clean himself off.

The tiger's companion, an orange-furred undomesticated housecat with an equally uncertain disposition, hesitated then swiftly stripped off his jeans, and with his throbbing erection held firmly in his right paw, he entered the stall. In seconds came two cries, one of muffled fear or pain, the other of lustful achievement. A sense of frantic and furious motion accompanied a half-growling, half-plaintive lament. The tiger laughed as he watched the spectacle, reaching behind him to collect his leather pants. "You won't last," the tiger challenged, and as if to prove him right, the cat suddenly emitted a yowling cry usually heard on back yard fences. The noise elicited an even grander howl of laughter from the tiger.

"Am I interrupting?"

The words came from the entry door, where a huge, muscular jet-black wolf, well over two meters tall, clad in a long black leather trench coat and little more, stood calmly watching the scene. The cat staggered backward from the stall, his rapidly shriveling cock still wet, his ears flattened backward against his head, a slightly dazed if wary look in his slit eyes. The tiger put a hand on the cat's shoulder to steady him and grinned at the new arrival. "I'd say you're just in time. You want some of this?"

Slowly, the wolf moved toward the last stall. As he approached, he could see the writing left on the inside of the open door: "This slave is here for punishment. Yiff as much as desired, but do not release. I will be back to collect him later. Thank you - His Master."

Housecat and tiger moved aside to allow more room for the wolf to look within. There, tied to the toilet, half naked, kneeling, legs spread by an inflexible rod, arms stiffly pulled and tied behind the tank of the toilet, a bright red ball gag in his mouth and his tail pulled upward and tied with leather binding to the leather collar at his neck, a young spaniel was splayed for service to one and all. His tailhole dripped with accumulations of cum from an unknown number of assaults, and his strong muscles strained with the requirement of holding the stressful position for an unknown period of time. The spaniel looked over his left shoulder at the wolf, a glint of fear, of pain, of shame in his eye as a tear slowly escaped and ran down his furry cheek.

"You have already partaken?" The wolf gestured with a generous leather-gloved paw.

"The bitch is worth it," the tiger growled through his wicked smile. "Try him on for size. Watchin' you hump ought to bring enough juice to my joint to let me have a second go."

The wolf seemed to consider this for some time without moving. He turned slowly to the tiger and said quietly, "I will have privacy."

Hissing, the smaller cat spoke up. "That _thing_doesn't deserve privacy!"

"I do."

The words struck the air sharply, even though they were spoken almost in a whisper. The tiger cocked his head slightly to one side, his jolly mood set aside in favor of suspicion. "Tell me, bud," he said with an edge in his voice. "What the hell makes you think you can order us around?"

"I have said that I will have privacy. If you consider yourself a Master, you will extend courtesy to another; if you are a slave, you have no choice."

"I am collared to no one!" the orange cat hissed sharply, his tail whipping angrily with numerous unspoken epithets.

"Irrelevant." The wolf spoke in a low measured tone. His massive body, thickly muscled beneath the jet-black fur, was completely relaxed, despite the strange sensation that he was somehow ready for any action that the two cats before him might take. "You will leave."

"No!"

"You challenge me?"

Orange fur beginning to bristle, tail flicking even more sharply behind him, the feral cat made a low noise in its throat before the tiger put a paw on his shoulder. "Not smart, spunky," the tiger soothed. He looked back at the wolf. "This guy needs someone his own size."

The wolf's head turned smoothly to the tiger, his expression revealing nothing. "Then you challenge me."

"I question you, wolf. Neither of us is bound to you, especially not me. I kneel to no one."

"I am not asking you to submit. I want you to leave."

"That's what I'm asking: Why should we?"

The housecat made his move, a sudden crouch that should have ended in a leap upon the interloper. In a move faster than the eye could follow, without taking his eyes off of the tiger, the great black wolf reached directly toward the patch of flying orange fur, grabbed the cat firmly yet carefully by the neck, and held him at arm's length off the floor. The cat tried to gain purchase against the arm and paw by pulling, scratching, yanking, but he could not penetrate the leather of the coat nor of the glove that held him. The wolf did not move, did not let go, did not even acknowledge the beast's existence.

He leaned toward the wide-eyed tiger and spoke softly: "As a courtesy."

"Hey, let him go!"

"Who?"

The housecat's cries become thinner as his eyes bulged slightly in their sockets. The wolf raised his eyebrows a fraction of an inch as he looked the tiger directly in the eye. The tiger choked back a response, gathered himself as best he could and stood straight. With a tiny bow, he said, "The room is yours, Sir."

The wolf's paw loosened instantly, and the gangly orange cat fell to the floor, gasping for breath. The tiger was next to him quickly, helping him up and hustling him out of the restroom as fast as possible. If the cat had been able to breathe properly, he might have had something to say; as it was, the tiger didn't worry about the cat making things still worse. He made sure that the door was shut behind them.

In the comparative quiet that remained, the black wolf moved toward the stall where the slave remained posed and vulnerable in his bondage. The spaniel's breath was quick and snuffling; he could only take air in through his nose, and his fear and pain had caused slick mucus to gather in the nasal passages. The ball gag was a size too large, the wolf noted, and it would have been nearly impossible to pull in much air through the muzzle.

For a long moment, the wolf merely stood behind the slave, looking him over. The spaniel was well muscled, though he was trembling from having been forced to hold this position for - at a rough guess, at least the last three-quarters of an hour. Most of his fur was clean and well cared-for, with exceptions obviously related to his current state. A healthy pup, not at his best in this moment. As the wolf watched, the spaniel tried shifting slightly, not quite able to do so; a tiny whimper escaped his throat, and the snuffling continued. The eye that was turned toward the wolf wanted to close, but the spaniel couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Slowly, the wolf bent over the slave and spoke softly into his ear. "Do you fear me?"

The eye popped slightly, blinked rapidly. A tiny sound came from the pup's throat.

"I understand that you cannot answer properly. You may nod or shake your head. You must tell only the truth. Do you fear me?"

After several rapid heartbeats, the eye twitching slightly, the spaniel inclined his head an inch or so in acknowledgement.

"You have told the truth. Good." The warm breath on the pup's ear was soft, almost affectionate. "I have no wish to cause you fear; I shall not use you as the others have."

The wolf leaned back and looked more closely at the spaniel's muzzle and forehead. He removed the glove from one paw, a signet ring glinting in the light. He reached toward the pup's face, pausing when the spaniel squeaked anxiously, no words being available to him. His paw continued slowly until he could examine the cut and bruise. The wound wasn't deep, but the wolf was sure that it was painful.

Reaching down beside the spaniel, the Master tore off a length of paper from the roll on the stall wall. This he bunched into a flattened wad and used it to wipe off the pup's muzzle, clearing away the snot and tears. He held the paper to the spaniel's nose. "Breathe in slowly, then blow out through your nose, quick and hard. Do it."

Only a moment's hesitation, then the spaniel did as ordered, spewing a blast of mucus onto the paper. The wolf again cleaned up after it. "Can you breathe more easily now?"

The pup nodded. The eye showed gratitude, even as the stifled noise seemed to echo the sentiment.

"You are welcome." Slowly, the wolf's lips turned slightly upward in what might have been a smile. "You are a well-behaved slave, I can see. You are in no position - please excuse the pun - to tell me what you are being punished for. I ask you a question: Do you love and respect your Master?"

The spaniel nodded vigorously, with the eye looking back to ensure that this was the correct answer.

The wolf's eye held the pup's directly. "Do not answer with what you expect I wish to hear. Tell the truth. Is he a good and responsible Master?"

In the second of hesitation, the eye expressed a great number of emotions, coming to rest as a fresh tear pooled and spilled over the lower lid. Slowly, gravely, the spaniel nodded once.

For a long moment, the great black wolf looked upon the spaniel as if taking in every detail of the young pup's face. At last, the wolf raised himself upward and said, "Very well."

He turned to leave the stall, turned back when he heard the stifled cry, the clanking noise of the tank being shifted. The spaniel appeared to be trying to pull himself off of the toilet, but he was held in place too securely. The wolf looked at him, impassive, waiting. The spaniel squeezed his eyes tightly, as if willing himself to be controlled. Finally, he began to breathe slowly. He raised his head and looked back at the wolf again. His eye, trembling, spoke more than mere words. His body, still rigid yet somehow collapsed, told a complex story of resignation.

The great black wolf considered this for a moment, then leaned into the stall again. His muzzle close to the slave's ear, he whispered, "Mitternachtswolf."

The spaniel, looking back, blinked once and nodded.

A commotion at the door brought the wolf's attention away from the stall. The tiger's voice could be heard, saying, "I'm not sure it's a good idea to go in there..."

"I heard there's fresh meat," said another voice, and a moment later, a young, slightly intoxicated horse clopped in and looked around. The tiger came in behind him, his face showing concern.

"Perhaps there is," the wolf said. He looked at the tiger, pulling on his glove. "I am quite finished with him. Thank you for your courtesy."

The horse had already stepped toward the far stall, pretending to read the words on the wall. Seeing the young spaniel displayed, the horse grinned and shucked off his shorts, his cock already dropped from his prepuce and beginning to swell. "Trussed up like Thanksgiving, now that's what I call good luck."

Stepping to one side, the tiger looked up at the wolf, hoping there would be no more violence. Slowly, the great black wolf walked out of the door and away, and the tiger breathed a sigh of relief. As the horse began his assault on the young slave tied in the toilet stall, listening to the fresh, howling cry being stifled by the ball gag, the tiger was happy to know that no one would be hurt.

_ ...to be continued... _