# What Masters are for

Author: dark end
Tags: BDSM, Hypnosis, Master/Slave, Mind Control, Panther, Wolf, no sex

#4 of Hypnosis

The third and thus far final story between Salem and his Master.

As the garage door began whirring itself shut and the last putters   
of the engine died out, Salem drooped forward and let his forehead   
rest against the top edge of the steering wheel.  The black panther   
willed himself to take slow steady breaths.  His every nerve felt   
frayed and frazzled, and he knew that if he was not careful, his   
claws, which refused to retract, would shred the upholstery.  He   
tried to take another steady breath and push himself into a   
meditative state, but, for all his experience with hypnosis, the   
foul stench of exhaust fumes kept interfering with his focus.  He   
snarled, climbed out, slammed the car door shut, and stomped up the   
short stairway into the house's mudroom.    
  
There, he tore off the under-sized and restricting sports coat,   
tie, and dress-shirt, thankful that his claws avoided tearing any   
holes in them.  The shoes, just a little fancier but far less   
comfortable than what he would normally wear, proved more difficult  
to get off, and after two tries to remove a stubborn knot, his   
claws finally slipped through the lace and shredded it.  "Damn it,"  
he cursed and flung the shoe off to clatter against the door of   
the washer.

  Salem cringed as the bang echoed in the small room, hoping he had   
not woken his Master.  A few moments went by and he heard nothing,   
so he let out his held breath.  
  
Now left in only his pants, which were thankfully quite   
comfortable, Salem paused in the mudroom for a tailtip to fingertip   
feline stretch, but to no effect.  He felt just as stiff and   
irritable as he had before.  He tried popping his neck, but that   
had no better result.  He sighed and slunk out of the mudroom while   
rubbing at the top of his shoulder, trying to ease some of the   
tension out of it.  
  
Salem dropped off the car keys on a small table near the front   
door.  As he did, his hand brushed over a piece of soft leather,   
and he looked down to see his collar resting where he had left it    
that morning, so long ago now it felt.  
  
Salem lifted the band to put it on, but before he clasped the   
buckle into place, he turned to look at himself in a mirror nearby.   
The black leather fit snugly but comfortably about his equally   
black neck-fur.  In front, a richly engraved nameplate bore his   
name, and to either side a pair of D-rings offered some additional   
binding points.  But the panther felt a flush of frustration at the   
day well up within him - he did not want to have to deal with any   
more duties or obligations today! - and he scrunched the leather   
tight in his fist and threw it back down to the table.  
  

  Salem made it two steps towards his bedroom before he realized   
something was blocking his way: his Master.  The black lupine form   
melded with the shadows of the hallway.  His head drooped and guilt   
welled up in his mind.  "I'm sorry, Master," he said.  "I thought   
you would've been asleep already."  
  
"I should be, but I wanted to welcome you home."  The wolf's voice   
was flatter than usual, hiding his emotions with it.  "Why did you   
not put your collar back on?"  
  
"It's been a long day, sir.  I'm tired."  
  
The wolf took a few steps closer, pulling out from the shadows of   
the hallway into the moonlight and starlight.  He placed a hand   
against Salem's cheek and gave a tender rub at the base of the   
feline's ears.  "A long day is not reason enough to forget your   
place, Salem.  Put it on."  
  
"But, Master..."  
  
"I did not give you permission to speak, slave!" the wolf snapped.   
Salem's ears pinned flat: his Master rarely called him slave and   
called him slave in such a dismissive way more rarely still.  "Put.   
It.  On."  
  

  The panther gave a whimper and bowed his head low as he walked back   
to the table, pulled the strap of leather around his neck once   
more, and cinched it into place.  Salem might have truly only been   
two inches shorter than his Master, but the way he felt then, he   
might as well have been half the wolf's size.  
  
Salem looked up, just once, long enough to catch the gleam off of   
one of the wolf's fangs as his lips had curled in a silent snarl.    
"Now, slave, go put on a pair of the cheap cuffs and wait for me in   
the bathroom."  
  
The panther bowed instead of giving his usual, "Yes, Master,"   
response.  He was certain he was already facing some kind of   
punishment already, the very last thing he needed after a day like   
today; his Master was not cruel, by any means, so knowing he had   
insulted his Master enough to earn a punishment only added to the   
emotional turmoil within him.  
  
He found the cheap cuffs laying on the floor of their closet.  They   
were plastic versions of the standard police-style handcuffs, the   
chain on them a little long but so weak it wouldn't stand up to any   
serious attempts to get free.  Salem slipped one end of the   
handcuff about his left wrist and let the end dangle free, knowing   
his Master would attach the other later.  Then he just waited,   
standing in the bathroom.  
  

  Salem's ears swiveled to listen to the footsteps of his Master as   
he approached.  The wolf entered the bathroom with a metal rod in   
one hand.  At once, Salem knew his fate: the heavy rod was inserted   
into two holes drilled near the top of their large walk-in shower,   
where it would serve as a much better tying point than any flimsy   
curtain rod.  A cold, long, miserable shower, that is what awaited   
him, likely followed by a night curled up and shivering at the foot   
of his Master's bed.  
  
The wolf had undressed sometime while he was fetching the rod, and   
he turned to Salem, putting his hands on the panther's belt and   
starting to undo them.  
  
"Please, Master," Salem started to protest.  
  
The slap shocked Salem so hard, he yelped.  The wolf's hand had   
delivered a fierce blow to his rump, stronger than any Salem could   
remember receiving.  He stared in shock at his Master.  The wolf   
had his jaw clenched tight in anger, not at Salem, the panther   
knew, but at himself: the wolf took great care in his position as   
dominant and vowed never to strike in anger - a rule he had just   
violated.  "Damn it, Salem, I told you not to speak."  
  

  Salem whimpered.  He wanted to say he was sorry, but he was, after   
all, not allowed to speak.  He just held out his hands, wrists   
presented, and waited.  
  
The wolf led him over to the entrance of the shower and reached   
inside to flick the stream on.  Salem was more than a little   
surprised to feel a burst of hot steam soon issue forth.  His   
Master kept testing and adjusting the temperature several times   
until satisfied and then led the feline into the warm spray.  The   
wolf looped the length of the cuff chain once about the rod and   
then attached the other end of the chain to Salem's free wrist.    
The height of the rod left Salem's elbows about even with his ears,   
his body exposed and presented.  
  
Salem trembled and tried to take a few breaths of the thickening,   
steamy air as his Master stepped into the shower beside him.  At   
any moment he expected the true punishment to begin, maybe a   
spanking or maybe his Master would pin him against the wall and   
force his shaft inside the panther's body to remind him of his   
place.  He did not expect the wolf's gentle touch, fingers running   
through his fur and making sure the warm water penetrated deep, all   
the way to his skin.    
  

  Salem watched, amazed and fascinated, as the wolf worked shampoo   
into Salem's fur and as the wolf's touch steadily morphed from a   
simple cleaning into a massage; and since the shampoo had to be   
worked into every bit of fur from muzzle to tail to foot, the   
massage too had to go everywhere along Salem's body.  His muscles   
ended up giving out from the day's exhaustion, and he slumped into   
his Master's strong grip.  The wolf held him up so the cuffs would   
not bite into his wrists.    
  
Then his Master leaned up and whispered a few words into Salem's   
ears.  Immediately the world seemed to fold in on itself, Salem's   
senses focused intently on the voice and touch of his Master as all   
else sank into unimportant nothingness.  He knew in a distant part   
of his mind that he had been triggered into trance, but he was   
utterly uninterested in what that part of his mind was now saying   
now.  
  
Just as surely as his Master's hands wrung the stress and tension   
from Salem's muscles, his Master's words wrung the stress and   
tension from Salem's mind.  The panther found himself unable to   
hold onto his buzzing, irritated thoughts and the tension in his   
body, and both were washed away under the constant stream of water.   
He soon hung limp against his Master, his muzzle hanging into the   
spray without concern.  
  

  The wolf turned off the water and left Salem's body wrapped in a   
caressing cloud of steam while his mind drifted in an obedient   
bliss.  The wolf gave a command for Salem to stand upright, and   
Salem did so without question, energy and tension returning to his   
muscles but only what was needed to obey.  The wolf's hands stroked   
over his form once more before focusing in on his thighs, working   
over the damp sheath and coaxing free his length with a few well-  
placed caresses and a few well-timed words into his ears commanding   
arousal.  His shaft stiffened as it had been trained to.  Soon, the   
fingers that had so expertly massaged his muscles into limp   
relaxation were caressing along his shaft, drawing forth moans and   
sighs as the haze surrounding Salem's mind tinged red with lusty   
pleasure.  He was hard because his Master had commanded him to be   
so.  He slowly rocked his hips into that gentle touch because his   
Master commanded him to do so.  And he soon climaxed, his seed   
splattering on the damp shower wall, right when his Master   
commanded him to.  
  

  With his climax, the last of the day's long-building   
stresses slipped away from him.  The annoyances and constant   
frustrations might as well never have happened.  His Master did not   
awaken him from trance then.  He undid the cuffs and commanded the   
feline to sit on a chair by the sink. Salem received a quick   
toweling to dry off most of the outer fur, and then a blow dryer   
began working over Salem's body inch by inch.    
  
Without any additional commands to stay deep, Salem found his mind   
refocusing and waking up on its own.  He finally achieved   
consciousness again when the hot air was finishing against his   
neck.  He blushed hard as he realized how much his Master was   
doting on him while the wolf himself was still dripping wet and   
looking quite uncomfortable.  
  
Salem opened his muzzle, but shut it just as quickly.  His Master   
noticed and leaned in to kiss his forehead, saying, "Good boy, no   
speaking just yet."  
  
His Master finished drying Salem's fur a moment later and left him   
to enjoy the warmth that wrapped his body like a warm blanket,   
while the wolf quickly toweled off most of the moisture that clung   
to his own fur.  Then, the wolf scooped Salem up in his arms and   
carried him out of the room.    
  

  Salem really felt he should protest at that.  Yes, he was rather   
effeminate and so did not weigh particularly much.  And yes, his   
Master was taller and stronger than he.  But he could still feel   
his Master grunting and straining to lift him.  He knew he should   
not say anything though, so instead he wrapped his arms about his   
Master's neck and leaned in close to bury his nose against the   
drying fluff of fur on the wolf's chest, searching out the rich   
lupine scent reasserting itself after the shower.  
  
The wolf set him down on the living room couch and tapped his snout   
once.  "Stay, boy."  Salem frowned at that command; he did not like   
being treated like a dog.  
  
His Master gave a smile, kissed Salem's forehead a second time, and   
stepped into the kitchen.  Salem could hear the clink and clatter   
of plates and silverware, then the low mechanical buzz of the   
freezer.  His curiosity did not have long to wait, as the wolf   
returned a minute later with a bowl heaped to the top with scoops   
of Salem's favorite vanilla bean ice cream.    
  

  Salem gave a large smile as he held the first spoonful of ice cream   
against his palate, enjoying the sweet treat melting along his   
tongue and trickling into his throat.  His ears flicked towards the   
TV screen as his Master turned it on, searching through the   
recorded shows until he came across a sitcom that Salem had set   
save that morning.  The panther blushed even harder as his Master   
put it on: he knew his Master hated the show.  He had intended to   
watch it tomorrow after the wolf had gone to work.  
  
As the intro credits came on, Salem's Master picked him up and set   
him down on the wolf's lap, wrapping his arms about the smaller   
feline in a hug and kissing along his neck.  Salem could see the   
wolf's ears pinned back, likely to drown out the jokes and one-  
liners traded back and forth on-screen.    
  
After the ice cream was finished, his Master returned to massaging   
Salem's body.  Unlike the massage earlier in the shower, this was a   
true deep-tissue massage - as best could be accomplished in this   
position anyway.  Those fingers could turn Salem into jelly (he was   
sure that his Master had trained him to be especially sensitive to   
his Master's touch, which would explain how easy it was for the   
feline to drift into trance during one of his Master's infrequent   
massage sessions).   
  

  But along with the fingers, Salem could also feel his Master's   
shaft, warm and thick, pressing into the fur of his back.  He smiled   
over his shoulder and moved his tail to wrap once about the wolf's   
length, but the wolf stopped his massage, moved Salem's tail away,   
and returned to his work.  A second attempt to pleasure his Master   
was met with the same reaction, and so Salem did not try again.  He   
just held gently onto the wolf's arms, giving a squeeze by way of   
saying thanks.  
  
When the credits rolled on the screen, the wolf shut off the TV and   
scooped Salem back into his arms.  "Bed time for sleepy kitties,"   
he said and hefted Salem back to their bedroom, his shaft poking   
against the feline's backside with every step.  
  
Salem thought, given his Master's arousal, that there might be some   
pre-sleep sex, but the wolf simply lifted the sheets, set him down,   
then slid in alongside before pulling the sheets back over them   
both.  He gave a kind smile, rubbing a finger along the top of   
Salem's muzzle.  "You can speak now," he said.  
  

  The feline nuzzled in against his wolf's chest and let his hand   
caress down to the still waiting, still hard shaft of his Master.    
"Does Master want some fun before bed?" he asked, letting the tip   
of his nose brush past his Master's nipple.  Despite himself, his   
tail was twitching in eager anticipation.  
  
The look in the wolf's eyes hinted at more than a little pride at   
Salem's offer.  "No, but thank you, boy.  It's late and I do need   
to get up early."  He leaned in and planted a kiss between the   
panther's ears.  "Goodnight, Salem."  
  
"Goodnight, Master."  
  
The wolf's eyes fell shut, but Salem could only hold back his   
curiosity a moment longer.  "Master?" he asked quietly.  
  
One of the wolf's eyes peeked open and looked at the black panther.   
"What is it?"  
  
"Why did you do this tonight?  I mean, I didn't deserve all the   
things you did for me."  
  
The eye closed again and the wolf sighed.  Salem thought for a   
moment he might not get an answer (his Master did not always   
explain why he did what he did, nor did he have to), but then the   
wolf spoke, his voice deep and low and half monotone due to   
tiredness.  "Salem, what would you do if I commanded you to   
straddle my hips and let me fuck you right now?"  
  

  "I would obey, Master."  
  
"But why?"  
  
Salem giggled.  "Does sex need a reason?"  
  
The wolf smiled, but repeated his question.  
  
"Because I am your slave, Master.  That's what slaves do.  That was   
the life I chose and desired when I took your collar, and it's the   
least I could do for my handsome, kind, and ever so patient wolf   
that I should give him a bit of late-night humping to help keep him   
happy."  
  
The wolf's hand traced along Salem's jaw.  The motions were slow,   
and from it, Salem could tell that his Master was already half   
asleep.  "So you want to know then why I spent all evening tending   
to you when I had every right to just bend you over the nearest   
chair and fuck you silly?"  
  
Salem gave a slight nod, brushing his tongue against the pads of   
his Master's hand.  
  
"Because you would have spent the whole evening feeling miserable,   
you would not have slept well, and you would have spent most of   
tomorrow feeling bad too, and I couldn't have that.  That's what   
Masters do, Salem.  That was why I offered my collar to you."  The   
wolf spoke barely above a whisper, and when the last word was out,   
he sighed deep and slow.  Salem was sure that if the wolf wasn't   
asleep already, then at least he was far too gone to explain what   
he meant.    
  

  Salem rolled onto his back as carefully as he could and looked at   
the nearby alarm clock.  It was only five hours until his Master   
had to be up.  Salem thought he could get a good nap in now, wake   
up a little before his Master, and then thank him for this evening   
with a surprise morning blowjob.  
  
He fell asleep still thinking about that, purring all the while.

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/XekAP3Wn
Part of the series Hypnosis
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