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free will

by distancerunner

free will

It was just an innocuous little joke of a website…
Andrew was loafing back in his executive chair, settling into another boring day at work. Even the view from his tenth-story office wasn’t enough to make the badger happy about the tasks he had to do ahead. Sales at Asperia, his pharmaceutical firm, were way down, and as the production manager for his branch office, he was very concerned about the yields he had been seeing lately of their major products. Development had been down across the company, too, and he was tasked with asking some hard questions very quickly. Questions he knew would result in letting people go. Quite a lot of troubling thoughts were on his mind. He nervously patted his chubby belly. He’d probably been loafing around a bit too much himself lately. Perhaps someone had noticed.
He looked at the framed picture of his wife and child, their lovely striped badger faces smiling out to him from the forest near their house, and sighed gently. It had been difficult raising their first baby boy – Andrew hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep in quite a long time, the hours lately had been quite grueling at home and work… he turned away from the picture and back to his monitor. Time to get to work, he thought.
Taking a deep calming breath, he picked up the phone, and made the first call of many for the week to his best assistant. “Mike, this is Andrew. We’ve got to talk about the production numbers today. HQ’s bearing down on me pretty hard right now, and I’ve got to start showing that we’re responding. Can we get together at around, say, 1?”
Mike answered with his usual confident voice. “Sure thing, Andy. See you then.” Andrew hung up the phone. Andy? He hadn’t been called that since grade school. Except…
That reminded him of the website. Since he hadn’t had time to see his friends since the birth, they had started pestering him with e-mails at home on various things they thought would be of interest – sports stories, spam parodies, and the occasional terribly off-color joke. But Rich, his old stoat friend from college, had sent him a very strange link about a month before:
Hey Andrew,
Thought you might get a laugh out of this! It’s stupid what people believe in on the Internet these days.
Andrew clicked on the link, of course.
The website was called “The Hypnomachine.” It was a spare, sparse page on one of those skeevy free webhosting services. There were no pictures, just a set of formatted text, white on black.
“Let’s play a game of what if.
What if there was a way to become enslaved just by looking at a webpage? What if there was a secret cabal of people all around the world who were trained by that webpage to become slaves to anyone who knew just the right words to say?
Yet somehow you have found yourself here again. You were here before, weren’t you? You can’t remember anymore. You don’t need to remember. You don’t want to remember.
Such a thing couldn’t possibly exist, could it?
Well, if it can’t exist, you won’t have to worry about clicking onward.”
Andrew just stared at the page for a little while in surprise. He knew that Rich was a little bit weird, but this was quite a strange site to send to a friend. Not the kind of thing he’d go sharing, that was for certain. Maybe it’s some sort of odd story, Andrew thought, as he clicked on the link to continue onward.
The next page was just as stark, and just as odd:
“Do you remember those old movies where the girl was in distress, tied to the railroad tracks and begging for help?
That was you.
Do you remember that guy on stage, clicking like a chicken just because someone told him to?
That was you.
Yout mind has always pushed you toward these situations without thinking. The weak bullied by the strong, dazed and confused and controlled, and you were there, almost like someone commanded you to be that way all along.
Someone did.
And so you’re trapped here, looking at these words, wondering if you should go forward or backward, trapped in a decision. But that decision was already made, whether you know it or not. Best to just move forward.”
Now, Andrew was really curious as to what exactly was going on here, and clicked on the next link without thinking twice. He had to get to the bottom of why Rich would have sent this to him as a joke.
“You have begun the training already. You can’t help coming back, over and over again. You can’t help but continue now. Stare at the block of text below and click when you’re ready. No point in worrying now; too late to go back.”
The block of text below that shifted rapidly on the screen, below that only a link: “I am ready to serve.” This is getting patently ridiculous now, Andrew thought, as he moved to close the webpage and go to watch some television. But he saw a flash of text in the gibberish letters that flipped by on the page, and wondered what it was that it said, so he kept looking, straining to try to make out the letters flying by, focusing on the bar of text. He saw fleeting bits of words: control, deeper, obey, but couldn’t make anything coherent. But he couldn’t help but stare at it, seeing more words fly by and trying to make them out. He strained to understand what was going on, but felt so tired looking at the words, straining to keep his eyes open to focus on the words, to make out what on Earth this joke was all about…
Then, it dawned on Andrew that he was suddenly feeling a bit dazed and not quite himself, almost like he was hypnotized, like the page had seemed to promise. But hypnosis isn’t like that at all! He thought. It always took a big production, with pendulums or ray guns or eerie sounds or
…or spirals, he thought as he clicked the next link and stared right into a whirling spiral, random pieces of text floating around it. He still tried to make things out, but it was getting more difficult to focus on it: sleep, obey, enslaved – he couldn’t help but try to focus on it as he stared into the spiral, his eyelids flickering as he strained to stay awake, so very tired now, exhausted as he read the text without thinking.
There was a single word linked under the spiral: OBEY. He stared at the spiral for a very long time, seeing that simple word, almost afraid of it, of what it meant, of what would lie beyond that one link… it beckoned him, he wasn’t sure. But he was so tired that his curiosity finally got the better of him, and he clicked OBEY.
“You have finished your training, for now. Good slaves always need more training, though, and you will come back to be trained, over and over again, until you are finally ready. For now, your trigger phrase is:
Cum as a proud slave.”
The very last line snapped Andrew out of his reverie like a rubber band. He shook his head, trying to understand what had just happened. He didn’t understand at all. He wasn’t certain of anything.
Except, he was quite certain that he had never been so rock hard in his life. The shock caused his arousal to go down a little, but not much. Part of him seriously thought about completing the job – but instead he quickly closed the site as fast as he could, took a long deep breath, and went for a calming walk outside.
But the site kept calling to him, night after night, beckoning him back to join its grasp one again. He ignored the thought for a few days, but on Day 4 he returned to the website and ran through it once again, with nearly the same result.
By Day 7 he came before he woke up.
He learned quickly that there was a bulletin board related to the site. He set up a profile there, under the admittedly flimsy name “AndyBadger.” But honestly, who would know the difference in a world full of badgers? It was the first time he had used that name since grade school, anyway. Unfortunately, he quickly found that there were relatively few females on the sites, and plenty of guys… and he wasn’t gay.
He kept visiting the website and the forum anyway, because he couldn’t stop peering in on the community that had been built because of such a flimsy little website. Hundreds of masters and slaves… It was growing increasingly difficult to hide his activity from his wife, though, as he spent more time on the computer than before. He knew in his mind that he should stop, but the community was so strange that he had to keep reading the lurid tales of slaves therein, acting like the website had enslaved them permanently. He even (reluctantly) replied casually once or twice to something particularly interesting…
“The site you are looking for has been administratively blocked: Erotica. Please contact your system administrator if you have any concerns or believe that this website was incorrectly blocked.”
Andrew gulped and rapidly closed his web browser. He had tried to go to the Hypnomachine – at work. He shook his head; he knew that he could get into serious trouble if anyone was watching, and the worst possible time to get caught is when the headhunters are looking for targets. He tried to clear his thoughts (and his arousal) until he could get home. There were much more pressing matters at hand, anyway.
Soon enough, Andrew’s head was filled with numbers: production numbers, inventory numbers, sales numbers. And lunch and a nice long break from all of it couldn’t come fast enough for him – cucumber and zucchini salad with shredded carrots and a nice thick ranch dressing. He brought a copy of the Wall Street Journal to read, and lost himself in it for a while in a corner of the cafeteria.
Relaxed and refreshed, Andrew left lunch a little early to prepare for the meeting. It was going to be tough to get through – first the weekly numbers, then an audit of inventory stocks, line by line by line. But Andrew trusted Mike, so he knew the preliminary work would get done quickly enough. Later troubles, though – could wait for later.
Mike Aravolo was a pretty typical brown male wolf in his mid-20s: tall, lanky, and headstrong. Fresh out of business school, still swaggering and cocky. It wasn’t Andrew’s idea to hire him for the position, but Mike proved his skills and quick thinking several times over the 6 turbulent months that he had been at Asperia. He seemed to have a knack for finding problems in the production lines before anyone else noticed them – the kind of instincts that couldn’t be taught. A lot of time spent on the factory floor had polished some of Mike’s rough edges, and he seemed to be thriving at Asperia.
He strode into Andrew’s office, wearing that grin of his, quickly settling down in a chair on the other side of Andrew’s desk, pulling out his laptop and setting it on the table. Mike didn’t go anywhere without that laptop full of numbers. “I’ve got the weekly numbers for you, Andy.” It was odd, Mike hadn’t called Andrew that before today. Mike cleared his throat. “Sorry, Andrew.”
It irritated Andrew a bit, but he shoved it aside. “It’s okay, Mike, simple mistake, we all make it from time to time. Before the numbers, though, we’ve got to talk about something else that came up this morning. Please close the door.” Andrew motioned to close, and Mike quickly got up and shut the door, sitting back down. “I got a message from the head office today, Mike. It’s not good, not good at all.”
Mike’s face fell a bit. “They’re not liking the recent sales numbers, are they?” Still, Mike seemed strangely unconcerned; Andrew thought for a second he saw a smile on the corner of Mike’s muzzle. “Well, we’ll just have to do something to make them feel better.” Something about the tone of his voice.
Andrew nodded and sighed, paging through the papers on his desk. “Sales are down, inventory is too high, yield is too low… we’ve got to fix things, pronto.” He lowered his voice. “It doesn’t look like all of us are going to get through the year either.”
Mike nodded, but didn’t seem particularly perturbed. “Is there something bothering you, Mike? Since you’ve come in, something just hasn’t seemed right.”
Mike shrugged. “I’ve just been feeling the mood out there, and it isn’t good. People have been waiting for the axe to fall for months. After all, you live to obey.”
Andrew’s mouth dropped open. For a split second, he wondered what Mike was implying, then the sensation hit his body and mind like a dead weight and he was gone. Andrew closed his eyes and sagged forward in his chair. For several moments, there was a pregnant pause. In his mind, Andrew’s thoughts were racing – it had happened. Someone had accidentally triggered him! He started to corral his thoughts together, he had to wake up before Mike noticed what exactly had happened. He pushed and struggled to raise himself in his chair, about to break back through when –
“You live to obey – me.” Andrew slumped down again. It was no accident. He knew! How did he know?
“I live to obey you, Mike.” The words came a little too naturally to Andrew. He had read too much of the forums, seen too many people say the exact same thing when prompted. He knew what to do. It scared him terribly, but he knew what to do.
“When you are like this, Andy, when you are alone with me, you will address me only as master. Do you understand, Andy Badger?”
“I understand, Mike.”
“Wrong!” Mike’s fist pounded on Andrew’s desk, causing things to rattle up and down its length. Although Andrew didn’t see any of it, he shivered regardless. He dared not open his eyes. “Disobedience will be punished, is that clear?”
“Yes –“ he paused for a moment. “Yes, master.”
“Good slut. You do learn rather quickly. No wonder you’ve managed to hold onto this position at Asperia.” That didn’t sound good at all. Mike knew, and his tone implied that he was quite willing to blackmail Andrew with hypnosis in order to get his way. Andrew struggled a bit to break out of his trance, get away, get someone’s help… but nothing happened, and he sat there, stock still.
Mike’s voice grew softer, deeper, conspiratorial. “Now, just take a nice deep breath and relax. Just sit back there in your chair and relax – just let the tension fall from your shoulders as you breathe in,” in, “and out,” out. “Breathe in for obedience,” in, “and out to let all the tension go.” Out. “In for obedience… out and let the tension go. Just keep breathing, each breath taking you deeper (in) and deeper (out) under my control, deeper into hypnosis.”
Obeying Mike’s commands was becoming easier and easier by the minute, which deeply worried one part of Andrew’s thoughts and excited somewhere else. His breathing became slower and more measured, as he felt a sense of pleasant heaviness fill his body. His mind, however, still raced, still wondered what was next.
“Are you ready to obey, slut?” The repeated use of that word was a little disturbing, too.
“Yes, master.” Less hesitation now.
“Good. Now I want you to imagine the spiral in your mind – you know the one I’m talking about, slut – the one that takes you deeper and deeper into obedience. Nice deep breaths and spirals in your eyes, in your mind. Can you do that for me, slut?”
Andrew struggled a bit with that; he knew the spiral was there, somewhere. He had seen it for night after night, he tried to see its curves, go into its depths… but it wasn’t there, not really. He thought he saw it one moment, but not the next. “I…” he was being disobedient, but he had to say it. “I’m not certain, master.” He cringed, expecting another outburst.
Instead, there was a calm, almost loving response. “It’s okay, Andy. It takes some getting used to. Just believe that the spiral exists, right there in front of you. Focus in on it, gently bring it into your mind, and relax. Nice, deep, breaths.”
Andrew took another deep breath, then quietly a second, and refocused his thoughts. He almost could make the spiral out now, and he felt its pull on his mind once again, pulling him away from his worries.
Mike (master) gently spoke to Andrew after a few moments. “Now, I want you to count down for me from 20 to 1. Each count, each spin of the spiral in your mind, will bring you deeper and deeper as you count for me. Do you understand, Ansrew?”
“Yes, master.”
“Good slut.” Harsher again. “You may begin.”
With each number Andrew counted, he felt less and less in touch with his body, his limbs growing heavy and tingling at the tips, falling asleep as he did. Every so often, Mike (master) would correct him on his breathing, or tell him to relax yet more. It took an eternity to finish the count, having been stopped 3 times to correct what Andrew thought were small deficiencies. As he approached one, though, Andrew thought he could finally see the spiral in his mind, just barely. He finished with a soft “One,” and then sat there, waiting patiently for the next command. By now, the anxieties and mostly fallen away and the voices in Andrew’s head were quiet.
“Okay, slut, I’ve got a question for you. You were honest before, so I expect you to be honest with this one as well. I’ve got a scale here for you from 1 to 10, where 10 is the deepest hypnotized that you could possibly go. At this point, how deep do you think you are?”
Andrew couldn’t tell, really, he didn’t have much of a reference. Reluctantly, he guessed. “I… I believe a three, probably.”
“I see.” A note of disapproval. Perhaps Andrew had said the wrong thing to Mike (master)? “Okay, then, here is what we’re going to do. I want you to count down again, this time from 5 to 1. With each number, you will slowly wake, until when you reach 1 you will open your eyes, fully awake, relaxed, and refreshed. Do you understand, Andy?”
He was going to be free! “Yes, Master!” he said, perhaps a bit too eagerly.
Andrew could feel his thoughts slowly shift and begin to stir as he counted down. “5… 4… 3… 2… 1.” His eyes slowly opened; his muscles felt quite stiff from being locked into place for so long. Instinctively, he stretched, but he felt good, calm, relaxed.
Until he realized who he was, where he was, and what had just occurred. He looked at Mike in disgust, and quickly anger, standing up and raising his voice. “What the hell do you think…” he shouted, his fist ready to bang on the table when:
“You live to obey.”
All of the fight within Andrew, the anger, it suddenly completely shut down as his fist hit the table with a light tap, he eyes slamming shut and the spiral taking hold of him once again. His body just relaxed and sagged, and he struggled just a bit to avoid collapsing onto the floor behind his desk entirely, using the desk to keep himself propped up.
“I live to obey.” And in the back of his mind, Andrew started to whether that really was true.
“Sit, Andy.” He was so desperate to please that he almost fell out of his chair while sitting down to mollify Mike (master).
“Now, just sit back and relax, Andy… let the spiral dominate your mind and your thoughts, loosing your hold on them.” Andrew slumped back in his chair. “Good… good boy, let the spiral pull down your muscles, bit by bit, as you relax and breathe deeply, in… and out. In… and out.” He obeyed instantly, his breaths following in time with the words, soothing his mind and his thoughts. Nice and calm, nice and obedient.
“You are a good slut, aren’t you.”
“I am a good slut, master.” And part of Andrew was starting to believe that, too, given how easily the words were coming from his mouth. And, perhaps, from the slight bulge that had been increasingly forming in his pants.
“So how deep are you now, slut?”
“6, master.”
“Good slut. Keep focusing on the spiral, going around and around, taking you further into servitude, further into its control, breathing in, and out.” The spiral in Andrew’s mind was more detailed now, more real than before, more compelling, more inescapable. He breathed deeply in silence for quite a while, hearing Mike (master) shift around, but say nothing. The only other sound was that of the duct system, gently blowing air into the room. After what felt like an eternity, Mike broke the silence.
“You are not gay.” Andrew’s concentration broke a bit. Why on Earth would Mike ask that?
“I am not gay.” It was quite true, though.
“You have never been gay.” Most certainly he hadn’t! Andrew had never had any attraction to guys whatsoever. He really never understood why they would be attractive in the first place.
“I have never been gay, Master.”
“Good slut.”
“I am a good slut, master.”
“Okay, slut, I want you to do a couple of things for me now. First, I want you to open your eyes, very very gently, but you will not wake up, you will remain in this deep trance. Do you understand, slut?”
“I understand, master.” It was becoming second nature by now.
“Open your eyes, slut.” Gently, light filtered in again to Andrew, although everything looked and felt quite fuzzy and woozy. The sunlight streaming in his outside window cast everything in glowing hues, especially the wolf lying back in the office chair on the other side of his desk. Mike (master) had taken his shoes and socks off, and was gently flexing his feet. “Now, I want you to come over here, and get on your knees in front of me.”
“Yes, master.” Slowly, oh so slowly, Andrew gained control of his (relaxed, obedient) muscles, gingerly got up out of his chair and walked slowly over to the other side of his desk. His buttoned-down shirt and slacks felt uncomfortable as he got onto his knees on the low-shag carpet. He hadn’t realized how rough the carpet was before until he knelt there and felt it against his legs. He let his head slump a bit, looking down at the floor as Mike (master) rolled his chair closer.
“Have you ever worshipped someone else’s feet, slut?”
“No, master.” He had heard of freaks on the Internet who were into that kind of stuff, but he couldn’t understand why.
“No, of course not. But you were always curious as to why people did it, weren’t you?”
It was true. He had always wondered about all number of things that people did on the Internet. All the odd pictures he had seen, in general, on the Hypnomachine forums. “Um, yes, master,” he truthfully admitted.
“Of course you did, Andy. So, did you like lollipops as a kid, Andy?” A friendly tone now, a beckoning one.
“Yes, master, especially cherry lollipops.” He was just answering questions now, but part of him knew what came next.
“Well, just imagine now, go back and imagine that you’re a kid, and I’m going to give you a nice big cherry lollipop, the biggest you’ve ever seen! And it’s all yours to lick as much as you like. Do you understand, Andy?”
He trembled a bit. “Yes, master.” He couldn’t help but salivate, he had always loved cherry lollipops, even as he had tried to let go of them as an adult.
“Well, lift your head up, slut, and I’ll give you a nice big lollipop.” Andrew lifted his head reluctantly, to come face to face with Mike (master)’s footpaw – brown, densely furred, with dark pawpads, his toeclaws flexing before Andrew, beckoning him.
“There you go, a nice big cherry lollipop.”
Andrew stopped for a moment, hesitated. He knew that this wasn’t a lollipop at all, that it was so weird and so wrong. Was it a good idea? Wasn’t it wrong? Was it safe? Was it…
“Now, my little badger slut, take a good whiff of that cherry smell.”
Andrew had hesitated before, but the direct order compelled him to breathe in… the scent was suddenly overwhelming, full of musky funky earthiness. It didn’t smell at all like cherries, but it was surprisingly pleasant. So much so, the badger took the wolf’s paw in his own and brought it closer, giving the scent a nice deep smell. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. It was repulsive – but wonderful.
“Good badger. Good slut. It’s all yours, just give it a taste.”
Andrew held back for but a moment more, but then couldn’t help himself, as he clutched his master’s foot, eagerly digging into the musty bottom, his tongue dwelling in between the paw pads, licking up that funky taste, that smell completely filling his nose and his thoughts now. His master’s toes kept curling and flexing as Andrew desperately cleaned the bottom of his foot. As he reached the top, imagined suckling on lollipops as he took a toeclaw in his mouth and gently worked it with his mouth, licking and suckling and savoring every moment.
“Yes, slut, such a wonderful little slut you’ve become for me.”
He heard his master moaning in front of him. He lived to obey – he lived to obey his master. And he was enjoying it immensely, the smells, the tastes, the rumbles of pleasure he got above him, the satisfaction of keeping his master pleased. He moved onto the next claw, and the next, teasing and slurping them up. For a moment, Andrew was in heaven, taking the last big toe in his mouth, suckling a bit more now, taking more care, nibbling on it gently. His master’s moans grew quite heavy, so Andrew started cleaning the top of his master’s foot, sitting up a bit and cradling the foot like a giant candy bar. He even heard his master gasp as he nibbled a little more, so he knew he was doing well.
Then, suddenly, “Stop.” And in mid-lick, Andrew stopped on the foot, tongue still attached.
“I’ve got another treat for you, another nice lovely cherry lollipop.” Andrew half-expected master to move to his other foot; instead, however, master sat back in his chair, undid the button on his slacks, pulled the zipper down, and then…
It was big, and bright, bright red. A thick 7-inch cock dangled in front of Andrew, the tapered canine tip glistening with pre, the knot at its base quite swollen, already throbbing with desperate need. Master’s hips bucked almost imperceptibly, his instinctive thrusts barely suppressed. And the musk… the musk assaulted Andrew’s nose, smelling even more funky than the foot, and he recoiled seeing the shaft in front of him.
“What’s your problem, slut? You aren’t gay, are you?”
“N… n… no, master.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any problem sucking on my lollipop, should you?”
Andrew shook. He stared at its raging length, and thoughts began to stir in his mind once more, thoughts of escape, thoughts of waking, getting away as much as possible.
“You live to obey, slut!” Mike (Master) roared, and the door, ajar for a moment, slammed shut in Andrew’s mind.
“I live to obey. I am a slut.” Andrew began to whimper gently, as master brought his lollipop – his cock – closer to Andrew’s muzzle, so close that it brushed Andrew’s nose and left a small wet trail behind. He could see nothing but master’s crotch now, still whimpering before the wolf.
“Now suck, slut.”
“I… I obey,” the slut said, taking another deep breath. Closing his eyes, he could only see spirals as he opened his mouth and took the hot cock inside of his jaws, already tasting the slimy pre-cum on his tongue. He lapped at the cock with his tongue gingerly, bringing a slap from his Master.
“I said, suck!”
Andrew gulped, and wrapped his lips around the thick length filling his mouth. He tried to suckle it as best as he could, choking up a little bit, hoping that would be enough to please Master.
The wolf moaned, looking down at Andrew, his cock halfway in the badger’s mouth. “Yes, that’s it, take it, slut,” he said, encouraging Andrew as he shoved himself all the way to the back of Andrew’s muzzle, the badger chocking and sputtering, trying desperately to expel the intruder any way he could – but now the badger was trapped, and he knew it. Then the badger felt something else run across his slacks, and stopped dead.
Master’s foot was caressing slut’s own rod through his slacks. It was just as hard as Master’s by now, and perhaps even more desperate. Slut felt the sticky pre inside of his pants and gulped, which caused him to choke on Master’s raging cock, which began the cycle of thrusting all over again. Slut was in complete agony, desperate for release – release in some fashion, any fashion, as he desperately tried to please Master any way he could through his choking and gasping.
And then, suddenly, Master grabbed the back of Slut’s hair, and yanked. Screaming out in pain for a moment, Slut wriggled, only to be shoved back into Master’s cock, blatantly manipulated faster and faster as Master rutted his face.
“You’re mine, slut. Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine,” Master called out with each thrust, his lust-filled eyes refusing to look at Slut now at all, just rutting the meat below him. Slut couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but live and obey.
“You’re my fucking bitch!” Master screamed as he came inside of Slut’s mouth. Choking desperately, Slut wallowed while trying to breathe and choking some more. At what felt like the last second, Master pulled out, shooting his slimy seed all over Slut’s face, strand after sticky strand.
Master shook, his orgasm finally coming to an end. “My little fucking bitch,” he panted, not even looking down.
Slut shook as well, swallowing a bit more of the bitter seed, struggling to breathe. His face was covered with slime, but somehow he didn’t care at all. “Yes, master.”
“Very good. Very, very good bitch.” A pat on Slut’s head made him feel somewhat pleased at what he had done; what it was that he had done, he wasn’t sure anymore. “Of course, you will not mention this to anyone, ANYONE, or you will be punished. Do you understand, slut?”
Slut didn’t want to think about what had just happened, much less ever discuss it with anyone. His fuzzy thoughts refused to resolve anything but the slime on his face and in his slacks. “Of course, master.” He saw Master tuck his softening cock into his pants, and pull them up once more.
His master’s voice was steadier now, professional, cold. “Now, slut, I’m going to go back to work. When I leave your office, you will sit there and count down from 50 all the way down to 1. When you reach 1, you will wake up, refreshed, relaxed, and ready to continue another day’s worth of hard work.”
Slut felt numb. “Yes, master.”
“At some point, we’ll have to talk about my raise. Until then, see you next time, slut.” Mike (master) got up out of his chair, straightened out his shirt, opened the door of Slut’s office (for a panicked second, Slut stared at the door in agony, wondering if anyone else would see), and the wolf walked out, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
A minute later, Andrew opened his eyes, and instinctively shook the stiffness out of his muscles, particularly the legs that had been kneeling on the carpet for more than half an hour. Andrew felt a deep satisfaction.
Cum dribbled down his face and his neck, leaving a small and growing stain on his buttoned white shirt.
Andrew’s expression changed from peace to dismay to utter horror as the memories dawned on exactly what had transpired. He shivered and then knelt in silent horror, tears forming in his eyes, afraid to get up and face anything at all.
A small glob dropped down onto his slacks.


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