FSE

Furry search engine

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Devon stared down at the second bottle of wine in his hands and felt a tingle run down his spine.

Where had it come from?

The store, of course, the dragon thought, same as the first bottle. But why had he gotten two?

Devon shook his head and tapped his horns to try to clear his thoughts. The seductive mantra he had been repeating as he put away the groceries continued to fight for his attention. Short, easy-to-remember phrases intruded against his every thought, but he pushed them all away. He needed to concentrate on the question.

He set the two bottles on the granite countertop and squeezed each one to convince himself they were real. Both surfaces were unyielding under his scaly fingers, as hard as glass should be, and that calmed him even though seeing and feeling the bottles meant very little to their actual existence: he had felt far too many hypnotically-induced, phantasmal dildos to trust what his senses told him anymore.

Perhaps he just made a mistake at the grocery.

He pulled a list from the back pocket of his jeans, a list he could not recall writing or even reading before now. Devon spent most days in a haze with only a few sharp memories sticking out from when the day's routine was interrupted by some inconsistency - such as finding that second bottle of wine.

Sure enough, the list itself included two bottles of wine, one a Merlot that Devon was slowly acquiring a taste for (he had recently taken to having a bottle with dinner in a futile attempt to teach himself culture and refinement), the other a Riesling that he had never had any interest in trying. Devon had never (so far as his memory could recall - and that was not very far) bought two wines for one night.

No doubt his Master had a hand in this.

Another tingle ran through the dragon's spine, this time accompanied by an aroused throb inside his jeans. Just thinking about his mysterious never-seen, never-heard, never-even-named Master made the dragon want to strip naked, drop to his knees, and jerk off to one of those irresistible mantras his Master had taught him - no, programmed him - to love. His Master had appeared out of thin air a year ago and had quickly taken over every aspect of Devon's life, his sexuality most of all.

But Devon's curiosity over the second bottle overcame the urge to masturbate. He settled for massaging the growing bulge in his pants as he looked over to the nearby calendar. There, in bright red ink, were the words, "Date with Autumn tonight!"

A memory flashed into form in the dragon's mind in a cascade of disjointed thoughts: he was standing on the sidewalk just outside work with the beautiful jackal; he wore a forest-green casual shirt selected to emphasize his own leaf-colored scales; she wore a business suit selected to emphasize her feminine traits to their fullest; he spoke with unusual confidence; she listened with an eager wag in her tail and an expectant tilt in her ears; he invited her to dinner in a weeks' time; she said yes.

Devon shook his head again, this time to push away the memory. He came out of his reminiscence to find himself lowering to his knees, his hand tugging his stiffening penis out of his jeans, tongue wrapping around a phantasmal phallus that disappeared the moment his concentration was broken.

Despite the mixed arousal and obedience surging through his veins, a very different sensation welled up within him: joy, happiness. His Master had set him up on a date! And not just a date, but a date with the smartest, wittiest, sexiest mammal in his office, the sort of person whom he would only have dreamed of dating a year ago.

But his Master had made Devon forget all the preparations. Devon felt his growing arousal wilt away. What did he have planned for Devon that night? What did he have in mind for Autumn?

The grandfather clock in his living room chimed. The first peel of the bell scattered Devon's fragile train of thought. He struggled to keep hold but the second peel sent him loopy, his tail and wings thumping against the floor, limp, while his legs turned and marched mechanically towards the adjoining hallway. "Master's will is all," he whispered. The words escaped his lips before he had even registered the desire to speak.

The part of Devon's brain still focused on his date with Autumn tried to force his route back into the kitchen, but the deeply-instilled programming of his Master would not be disobeyed. As the clock continued to chime, he started to remove his clothes as he walked, leaving each item in a heap on the floor, immediately forgotten. Naked, the dragon turned into the spare bedroom turned makeshift gym. His erection throbbed as he picked up a pair of weights, his thoughts now almost a complete blank save for the one question: "What will happen to Autumn?"

Then, with the last chime of the grandfather clock, the dragon settled himself onto the workout bench, felt the vibrating dildo atop it penetrate deep inside and obliterate the last vestiges of free thought in a wave of pleasure, and began his reps.

* * *

Devon came to his senses about fifty minutes later in the shower, right in the midst of orgasm. His head throbbed, and he held out one hand to steady himself while the other squeezed the last few moments of pleasure from his shaft. The afterglow filled him as he lingered in the shower with steam tickling along his wings and the taut skin over his testicles.

The shower curtain was open, which allowed Devon to see his cloudy reflection in the half-fogged glass. As his body trembled, unsteady in the afterglow, his mind paused to admire his Master's programming. He was a dragon, so his stature had always been impressive; his physique not so much. With his Master's assistance, Devon had finally been able to stick to a daily exercise regimen that kept his stomach trim and his biceps firm.

Of course, it helped that his reward for the day's exercise was a mind-blowing orgasm like the one he had just enjoyed, an orgasm that left him feeling blissful for the rest of the evening.

Devon grinned like an idiot. He could not believe how good he looked now. The increasingly foggy reflection of his body looked like the sort of dreamy male that he had lusted after in his younger years: strong, fit, and confident in his own sexuality.

He turned the water off and just stood there, enjoying the heat radiating against his wings and the simmering arousal stoked by each caress of his semi-hard shaft and each glance at his reflection.

An alarm went off on his computer in the next room. "Right, dinner," he reminded himself. He stepped out of the shower and dressed with a merry whistle. He lingered a minute more than usual to ensure he looked his very best: a dab of oil to the frill of spines at the back of his head to make them glisten, a file against the point of his horns to make them gleam.

Then, Devon reentered the kitchen and started cooking a pair of veal cutlets and a side of braised vegetables. He danced about the kitchen with the merry tune still on his lips. Clinking cutlery and thumping cabinetry became his drum set. It was not until he had set out the second bottle of wine next to the second glass that his memories from earlier today came flooding back to him

"Autumn!" he gasped.

Devon tensed. At any moment, he expected his thoughts to be whisked away by his Master's programming, just like when he first arrived home. When ten seconds and then twenty passed without incident, he let out a relieved sigh. He still wanted to know what his Master had planned.

Something clinked against the bottle of wine in his left hand. He peeked into his palm and saw a tiny vial filled with white powder, the label blurred into nothingness - his Master's way of hiding information from him. His curiosity shifted into worry. He had no idea what was in the vial, only that it involved Autumn somehow.

The veal and vegetables forgotten, Devon dove across the kitchen and snapped his laptop open with such force that, for a second, he worried if he had broken the screen. His fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on his thigh as it loaded his preferred IM program; as soon as it was up, he typed as quickly as he could.

Subbydragon: Master, are you there? I need to ask you about something important.

No immediate response, not that there typically was one. While one hand tapped against his thigh, the other pulled his phone out of his pocket: he would snap it open, type gibberish, and snap it closed again, just to give his idle hands something to do. It took nearly two minutes for a response to arrive

---: You should undo the top button. Show off more of your chest.

Devon obeyed his nameless Master's command immediately, parting the white silk to show off more of the umber brown scales that streaked from his chin to his tailtip, breaking the otherwise constant green across his body. He knew his Master was watching him through the camera atop his laptop. He blushed at the thought that his body - the body his Master had helped to sculpt - was bringing his Master pleasure.

Before he could respond, another message came

---: Don't forget to tend to that meat, slave.

For a moment, Devon thought his Master was referring to the growing bulge once again pressing against his pants, but he realized his Master meant the veal. He scrambled back to the stove and carefully extracted both pieces of meat from the pan before they could burn. Their temperature came out all right, if a bit closer to well done than he would have liked, so he sat back down at the laptop and typed out his message before he checked to see if his Master had commanded him again.

subbydragon: Please, Master. I need to know about the vial.

---: No, you don't.

Devon shivered. He had never had reason to question his Master before. Everything his Master had done had improved his life in so many ways: the exercise routine that gave him a body he was proud of, the dedication at work that earned him a small promotion and three raises, and the orgasms - oh, the orgasms. But this was something new. This was getting others involved.

subbydragon: Master, I'm worried.

---: Don't be. Master's will is all.

Those words pierced through Devon. He dropped to his knees, his head and wings bowed in reverence before the laptop as he repeated the mantra: "Master's will is all. Master's will is all. Master's will is all"

He kept the loop going until he heard a chime from his computer and looked up to see one last message.

---: Don't forget the vegetables, either. I swear, slave, you would forget to dress each morning if I did not command you to.

---: Now get to work! She'll arrive soon, and I want you to have everything perfect for her.

Devon tucked the blurred-label vial back into his pocket and closed the laptop down. Questions about what would happen that night and about the vial in his pocket kept bubbling within his mind, each time gently pushed away by a sense of loyalty and devotion to his Master's will. Devon silently thanked his Master for making things so much simpler for his lowly slave.

He kept the vegetables simmering for a few minutes more until he heard his doorbell ring. "Be there in a moment!" he called, just before taking the vegetables off the heat. Devon paused to check himself in the mirror: his shirt was still unbuttoned the way his Master had intended. He caught a glimmer of something golden hanging about his neck, but paid it no mind as he opened the door.

Autumn stood there, in a sheer orange blouse and simple white slacks that drew out the bright tan and brown colors in her pelt from which she derived her name. She did not wait for a greeting, just pushed inside and stood up on her tip-toes to meet the dragon's lips in a gentle kiss. "Nice to see you again, handsome," she said with a wink and a flick of her tail.

Devon idly wondered just how many encounters with her he had forgotten at his Master's behest. She was far more intimate with him than he expected.

Although the scent of meat had already made its way to them and set their mouths watering, they lingered at the door. Her slim, articulate hands held him and compelled him to stay with her, and she pressed her muzzle against his neck and took in the scent of him. Devon could not understand the canine desire to know another by scent, but he enjoyed the closeness it brought, the feeling of her warm fur brushing against his scales, and found himself thinking how incredibly lucky he was.

He wrapped an arm about her waist, took her hand, and led her towards the dining room. The worries of the vial pressing inside his pocket disappeared as he fell completely into his Master's programming.

* * *

Devon felt Autumn's naked foot against his thigh - her shoes long ago discarded for comfort. She was so close to his arousal, and she had probably picked that position because of that. "It's a relief to be with someone who doesn't see me just for my species," she said, a seductive bat of her eyelashes.

Devon took a bite of the vegetables and placed a hand over her foot, in part to keep her from getting too close and feeling how aroused she was making him. "Is that a problem for you?"

She sighed. "Oh yeah, this city is full of nothing but foxes and wolves and 'yotes. Every canine here wants a piece of jackal ass so they can brag about it to all their bar buddies." She rolled her eyes and swirled her wine. Devon couldn't feel the vial in his pocket any more. Had he already used it? "You've had the same thing, haven't you, Devon? Girls who only want you because you're the only dragon in town? They all want you to be big and strong and fierce..."

And dominant, Devon added silently. But he said, instead, "And don't forget the wing fetishists."

She barked out a laugh and then finished off her wine. Her fork tapped against her empty plate as she licked her chops. "Best veal I've had in a long time. You're quite the cook, Devon."

"I've been practicing," he said. He finished off the last of his vegetables and took a quick swig of his own wine. He stood and held out his hand with a little bow. "Would you like a tour of my little home?"

She grinned and took his hand, but instead of following, she led him down the hallway. The jackal paused at a collection of family pictures and perused through them as she pulled him in tight against her back, her wagging tail brushing tantalizingly against his thigh. Devon felt his scales flush an even lighter shade of green: by now she had to know how aroused he was. He did not know how sensitive a jackal's tail was, but his desire must have been obvious. She said nothing, though. She only leaned in a little closer to the pictures (giving Devon a good look down at the shapely curves of her rear) and asked him about this or that relative in a curious-only-to-be-polite sort of way.

The next stop she took him to was his makeshift gymnasium. Devon expected to see a sex toy lying forgotten on one of the benches, but everything had been swept clean. Even the air itself tingled with pine-scented cleaner that washed away the smells of his arousal. Devon thought this cleanliness might have been unnecessary: Autumn might have been more intrigued than disgusted by the sight of a dildo in his gym.

After a glance around the room, her eyes stole a peek at his exposed chest. "I can see how you keep yourself so fit," she said.

"It helps to have a goal to work towards."

"Like impressing the ladies?"

"Uh, yeah, something like that," he said. He did not mention the orgasms he was rewarded with.

Even before he had finished speaking, she had darted out across the hall. She made a face as she opened the door to his at-home office. "I see enough computers at work," she muttered. The jackal took only a quick peek inside the bathroom before opening the door to his bedroom, giving a soft squeal at the sight of his massive plush bed, and leaping out of sight onto it.

Devon rounded the corner of the door and found her resting on her belly. Her back was arched slightly to press her breasts forward and to show her plunging neckline and ample cleavage. He realized he was staring when she said, "Something caught your eye, my handsome dragon?"

Devon felt his blush lightening his scales even more, especially at the possessive way she growled out the word, "My." His mind was lost in the thoughts of her beauty, but his Master's programming kept his appearance cool and confident. "You're... spectacular," he said.

She grinned, teeth full of glistening white fangs, and tugged her shirt partway down one shoulder. "I'll show you more if you show me some more."

He reached up with a grin of his own and began to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt and cuffs. As he pulled the sleeves down, Autumn's eyes focused in on her chest. "What's that?" she asked.

Devon lifted the item. It was a pendant containing a small red gemstone surrounded by golden filigree in the rough shape of a dragon. "It's a focus," he answered automatically, not thinking about the words leaving his mouth. "I like to meditate while I'm working out. I keep a simple mantra in my head and a focus before my eyes. I've wondered if there might be some sexual applications to that as well." He paused a moment as he saw her eyebrows lift. "Would you be interested?"

When her gaze fixed intently on the gem, Devon realized what the powder in the vial must have been: a hypnotic assistant. He had used a similar item when he was first experimenting in mind control to help him reach a deep trance state. It could not be used for any serious mental reprogramming (that required far more invasive techniques) but it did offer the promise of one night's hypnotic fun, especially with a mind as kinky as his Master's pulling the strings.

The dragon's shaft could be held back no longer. The thought of kneeling beside Autumn and serving his Master together forced blood into his length. He had to quickly loosen his belt and let his hardening shaft into the air.

That, in turn, broke Autumn from her reverie of staring into the gemstone's depths.

In a few minutes, they were both naked. Devon knelt atop the bed, using his wings and tail for extra balance as Autumn knelt in his lap. His hard shaft was pressed firmly against the warm fur of her belly. The gemstone hung suspended on a thin string so it hovered right between their heads.

"We take deep slow breaths," he was saying, still feeling the words come through uncontrollably. "In unison with one another. In and out. In and out." Autumn's eyes were fixed on the gemstone, on the flickering lights bouncing across its surface. They beckoned to Devon too, but he had a job to do, a program to obey. "As you breathe in, deep down into your chest, feel that action lift your body up. And as you breathe out, relax and settle down." Her thighs clenched against him on her next breath in, lifting her partway up and grinding her sex against his shaft. When they breathed out together, it came out like a sigh.

On the second breath, her sex felt wet against his shaft. On the third, her tongue lolled out of her muzzle to relieve the heat inside her. On the fourth, the sighing sound had become a quiet moan of desire.

"Breathe in deeper, rise higher," he said and this time as she reached the peak, he shifted his hips beneath her and let her spear herself on his shaft as she settled back down. She gasped but with a few quick encouragements she was back to breathing deeply. Devon could tell she was not truly under (the corner of her mouths curled up in a delighted smile), but Master's programming had made him patient. A few lines would not put her under, but he had as much time as his Master wished him to use.

"In and out. Slow and steady. Gentle and deep. Let the rhythm dictate your motions." He could feel the need inside her, the clench about his shaft as she lifted up with each breath in. Her sex wanted her to go faster, so he kept repeating the suggestion to be slow and steady.

He placed his hands under her thighs to help guide her, and soon, despite the need they both felt, they had settled into a constant mechanical rhythm. "Stare deep into the gem's facets," he said. "Focus on as few things as possible. The light in the gem, the rhythm of your breathing, and the pleasure building within you."

Some of the smile left her, replaced by a concentration: tightness in her jaw and fierceness in her eyes. She kept the rhythm going, steady and slow as he had now programmed her. He could feel her tail draped against his knee, forgotten as her attention moved to other parts of her body.

"Let it all build together," he said. "Feel each stroke down throughout your entire body, the pleasure building, pushing out all else. All other sensations. All other thoughts." The muscles around her eyes joined the rest of her in relaxing. Her gaze now fixed languidly on the gemstone, as if looking anywhere else would have taken an immense effort. Her hands hung limp at her side, the tips of her claws tickling his wrists as he kept his grip on her thighs and assisted her in the rhythm.

"Deeper. Focus deeper," he said. "Focus on the pleasure, on the rhythm, on the light. See nothing but the crystal, feel nothing but the bliss of sex, think nothing but the rhythm filling your body."

Even her sex had gone slack now, no longer gripping him as she lifted off, but the pleasure was evident in the tiny trembles and quivers of her body. He pressed on, repeating commands and programming until she shook with near-orgasmic bliss on each thrust. Now she was ready for his Master.

Devon's hands crept up from her thighs, over her back and to her shoulders. He adjusted himself a tiny bit with each breath, each movement tipping her over into his arms until she lay on her back, staring up at the crystal hanging above her.

Devon withdrew from her sex and slipped in a pair of fingers instead. The new texture of his scales within her brought for a quick and sudden moan from Autumn's throat before she settled into the deep rhythmic breathing again.

Devon was rewarded. The programming directing his thoughts cleared for a moment and the arousal and lust that had been held back hit him all at once. Stars burst in his vision and his shaft surged in need. He humped at his hand like a beast in rut, each thrust sending electric bliss through his entire body.

Then, just as quickly as the programming had relinquished its hold, it snapped back into place, his reward completed for the moment.

His thumb pressed lightly against autumn's clit as he reached over to the nearby bed stand. He popped the drawer open, extracted the items inside, and then froze.

Devon's blood ran cold. His programming crashed. Thoughts screeched to a halt, piling into one another in a jumble as he looked on the items in front of him: a thick rubber hood with built-in headphones and a set of expensive fur-lined leather cuffs.

The powder and gemstone alone were not invasive enough to cause significant personality changes, to brainwash.

These were.

And Devon knew that Autumn was meant to be tied up, fitted into the hood and left to be programmed all night long.

It made no sense. His Master had been so meticulous about improving Devon's life in every conceivable way: he was healthier, happier, more successful thanks to his Master's care. He had never once been hurt, and his mind rebelled at the thought of hurting another. Devon's hand clenched about the hood and pulled back, ready to fling the vile away, as far away as he could.

Master was suddenly there with him. Arms held him tight, Master's arms, strong, loving, unyielding, phantasmal. Master's shaft entered him, the pleasure it caused so intense that Devon's own shaft climaxed without even being touched. The incredible orgasm shut down all rational thought. He could not disobey, because there was, for a moment, no Devon there to think of obeying or disobeying. There was only a machine carrying out its programming. "Master's will is all. Master's will is all," he chanted as he began fitting the hood over Autumn's head and tying her spread-eagled to the bed.

* * *

The door to the bedroom was closed.

Devon hurled himself towards it. He had to break in, to free Autumn, but every time he tried, his body skidded to a halt, turned around calmly, and walked him several steps away. His programming would not let him back into the room.

He paced the hallway, still naked: all his clothes were left in his bedroom. Despite his anger, his erection lingered and his tailhole clenched at the memory of his Master's blissful touch.

He wracked his mind for a solution, but he could think of nothing to do. Nothing. For once in the past year, he was completely free of his Master's programming, outside of the one directive to not enter his bedroom. He was thinking for himself. It made him feel... lonely. Where was his Master's voice to guide him? Where were his Master's commands to direct him?

He burst into his office, wings and tail knocking against the doorjamb. He wanted to give his Master a piece of his mind, but how did he argue with someone who could, with a simple command, remove all thought from his head? He had to try either way, to keep Autumn safe. As he sat down, he felt the emptiness within him all the stronger. Normally when he sat down to speak with his Master, there would be one of those phantasmal dildos stretching him wide. He wanted one now. He needed one. But he felt nothing.

He sighed and opened up the nearby drawer, pulling out a regular plastic dildo and eased it into himself, filling the void his Master had left within him.

As he sat back and waited for the computer to load, a stack of files caught his eye. They just sat there in a spot that normally would have been blurred and hidden from his sight. Perhaps, if his Master's programming had vanished, maybe his Master's secrets would be uncovered too.

He lifted the top one. The label had the name of one of his co-workers, a little foxgirl who worked two cubicles down from himself. The only sheet inside read, "Meek, quiet, submissive. Conclusion: not adequate."

He pulled down two more folders, again labeled with the names of coworkers, again containing a few short personality details, and again deemed inadequate for whatever purpose. Devon scoured down the stack of folders for a thicker one, finally pulling one out that had the name of one of his bar buddies on the cover, a handsome tiger named Charles. This front page had more on it: amongst various details, the tiger's bi-curiosity and forthright demeanor were noted. The conclusion at the bottom read, "Potential partner."

Devon let the folder fall from his hands and sat back in his seat. His Master had been having him catalogue everyone he knew to ascertain which would make the best boyfriend or girlfriend for him. All the observations were those that could be gleaned from a careful ear applied to casual conversation.

The dragon snapped Charles' folder shut and dug for the thickest one in the pile, the one he knew would have Autumn's name on the cover. Her first page had dozens of personality traits, her assertiveness, her ease in speaking her mind, her ability to take command of any situation, all that lead to the conclusion that she was a "natural dominant."

Those words echoed in his head as he looked at the wall that separated him from her sleeping body.

His Master did not want to make her into a slave. He wanted to make her into a dominant. His dominant.

Devon scanned the rest of the file. Pages had titles like "What gift would Autumn love most?" or "Autumn's favorite foods." He had scoured her every friend to find her every like and dislike, with her love of veal and wine noted, circled, bolded, and underlined. Some pages were journals, reflections on their encounters at lunch or their stroll through the park.

In the middle, he found a receipt for the rubber mask he had placed on her earlier. He had estimated the size based on what size hat she wore.

On the last page was a simple note: "I think I love her. Master was very happy when he heard this."

Devon took a deep breath and set the file aside. He looked back at the computer, at the blinking message asking if he wanted to log in. Yes, he decided, he was ready.

He found his phone sitting beside the monitor and began to snap it open and closed to give his hand something to do, and then, when the IM loaded and the light on the camera flicked on, he bowed his head and sent a message.

subbydragon: Master, I am sorry. I doubted you today.

The light from the camera flickered on. He tried to look meek and apologetic, lowering his head to look down at his shaft, still half-hard.

This time he did not have long to wait.

---: I understand, slave. I know what I asked you to do today was hard.

There was no question of whether Devon had obeyed or not. He was too well programmed for that.

subbydragon: Autumn won't be hurt at all, will she?

---: Devon, you love her. You might not have when you first began your search, but you certainly grew to love her the more you spent time with her.

---: Hypnosis cannot make you do anything you do not truly want to, Devon, you know this. Could you truly have hurt her?

subbydragon: Of course not.

subbydragon: But Master, you are not me.

---: Look at your phone, slave.

Devon blinked at the odd command.

subbydragon: Master?

---: Look at your phone.

Devon lowered his head to obey the command. Then stopped.

Devon felt like he was leaning over the edge of a great canyon, as if completing the commanded action would change something, completely and irrevocably. The certainty of his feeling shocked him

subbydragon: Master, I'm scared. I don't want to.

---: Trust me, slave. Look down.

The feeling did not leave. But he steeled himself, trusting in the will of his Master as he lowered his head and opened his eyes.

His phone had a video open, an image of a green dragon sitting in an office, naked and staring down at a phone in his lap. It was himself. The image his camera was sending was going right to his phone.

subbydragon: You're... me?

Devon felt his fingers dancing over the phone's keypad in the brief gap before the message arrived.

---: Do you remember all your attempts to find a dominant? Someone who would treat you as the submissive you are, not as the big strong dragon they wanted you to be?

---: As hard as you tried, you never found one.

---: So, instead, you hypnotized yourself and created me, the perfect hypnotically created dominant, with equal perfect knowledge of your every desire and lust.

Devon swallowed, but his throat remained dry.

---: But while you could make me into a dominant, you could not make me enjoy being dominant. I am you after all. Hypnosis has its limits.

subbydragon: That's why you searched for a new dominant for me.

---: No, that's why I did everything. Your exercises, your growing skills with cooking, your improved status at work.

---: That was not to improve your life, Devon. That was to make you more attractive to a potential dominant.

---: As to Autumn. Just as you could not harm her, neither could I. Your love for her is my own.

subbydragon: then why the hood? why the cuffs? why force her?

There was a pause and Devon could almost hear his Master's laughter.

---: Silly dragon, there is no way to force her.

---: You did all you could to force me to be a dominant and all I did was try to pass you on to another as soon as I could.

---: She isn't being programmed. She is being... taught.

---: Everything I have learned about you, I am whispering into her dreams.

---: And... well, there is simply a lot to tell, and this was the only way to guarantee that she would hear it all.

---: There might only be one chance at this, and I couldn't risk losing it because she rolled over at night and pushed off a pair of headphones.

---: If she does not wish to be your dominant, then all she will hear is white noise, the same way you are blocked from seeing certain things. She will enjoy a pleasant night's sleep and wake feeling refreshed.

subbydragon: And if she does want to be my dominant...?

---: You'll find out in the morning.

* * *

Devon slept well that night, despite sleeping naked on the couch without a blanket. He woke up a half-hour before his usual time and walked into the bedroom to remove all the items from Autumn before she woke too. He grabbed a pair of slacks and a shirt from the closet, threw them on, and then headed out to cook breakfast.

All that had been his own choice, his own free will in action. His Master had let him do as he pleased. He should have felt lonely again, but somehow, knowing that his Master waited right inside his own subconscious relaxed him.

Halfway through cooking the bacon, with that rich fatty scent tingling inside his nose, he heard Autumn's footfalls coming down the hallway. He steeled himself for the worst, for rejection, for being called a freak, and then he slowly turned around.

Autumn was there, leaning against the doorframe, still completely naked. She held her breasts out, making sure his gaze was locked on them. "Hey there, stud," she said. "Want to call in sick today?"

Devon's jaw dropped.

An excited giggle burst from her throat. She sauntered over, auburn-colored hips swaying to some sensuous beat. "No need to act so nervous. That had to be the best fuck I've had. Ever." She traced a finger along his shirt, undoing a button. "And I can't wait for more." He coughed a little and turned away, poking at the bacon.

Autumn stepped back, a look of concern on her face. "Something wrong?"

Devon sighed. He felt, at least, that he should apologize for the night, for trancing her without permission and leaving her tied to the bed all night. It hadn't been his idea. At least, not the true Devon's idea. But he could not explain all that, so he said, "It was the wine."

"What about it? I thought it tasted great."

"No. I mean, we both had some. We were tipsy, and then we fucked. I was worried I'd somehow taken advantage of you." That last part had been true, at least. "I don't want to do that."

He felt a touch to his cheek. He turned to look into her eyes, which held a flirtatious glint. "Oh, you silly dragon. I'm not that much of a lightweight." She pulled him into a kiss then, and the rest of the world just seemed to melt away as he held her tight and folded his wings about her. Her hands gripped his butt and squeezed him through the fabric.

"Believe me," she said, with her muzzle still pressed against his snout, "I wanted to screw you before I took one sip. I enjoyed every minute of last night. And I'd gladly do every last thing all over again."

She held up the red gemstone and dangled it in the air in front of her naked breasts. Devon's breath caught in his throat.

"Actually, there might be one little thing I would like to change," she said and started it swaying as Devon's gaze latched onto it.

* * *

They were naked again. Devon knelt atop the bed in his most reverential and submissive pose: knees spread wide, tail lifted to touch his neck, wings folded low against his back. Autumn lay before him, legs wrapped about his thighs to hold his shaft deep within her slick and heated depths.

She was beautiful, lying there in ecstasy atop his sheets, but he didn't see her. His eyes stared ahead, into the glinting endless depths of the gemstone. He had become a machine, personalized for her pleasure, thrusting at the precise tempo and depth she desired.

And on each thrust, he whispered the new mantra that she was programming him to love, "Mistress's will is all. Mistress's will is all."