Conditioning
#2 of Other Stories
(Meta note: This is was written in reaction to a horrible, yet fascinating [book](%5C).)
(Length warning: This story is about 13,000 words.)
Conditioning
The doorbell rang again to Albert's small brick house. Indeed, it was the wolf, as he had expected. He opened the door to find his subject bright, and literally in this case, bushy-tailed. Albert invited him in, but instead of to the living room, escorted him down the stairs to the basement.
"You do know what you're getting into, don't you? Once you start, you will be unable to quit."
"I would never quit," insisted the dog, seeming not to think of what Albert had distinctly in mind, "I wish to learn the art of perfect servitude."
"I have yet to train a perfect servant to anyone," cautioned the cat, "I only reshape those who are not very good into better ones -- at the cost of themselves. You will be changed forever."
This caused the dog to blink several times, and become far less excited about the propsect. But never the less, he stated, "I love Luke too much. We already agreed on -- something like this."
"As long as you understand the risks, and the fact this will not be pleasant," stated the cat, as they reached the bottom of the stairs, "I have nothing further to say. Your committment will be tested as to whether you fail to appear upon my future summons, and if you tell anyone about this. Even Luke cannot know."
The wolf, however, was busily looking around this basement, which had clearly been designed for doing terrible things to others. Pegs were mounted on the wall, as were manacles and chains. A table along the far well, next to the locked back door and window blocked out, had a tall stack of books, as well as pencil and paper.
A comfortable chair was on one side, and a very uncomfortable steel chair -- best described as an electric chair, with straps but no wires -- sat on the other. Lastly, the miscellaneous basement materials -- like a broom and bucket, as well as other metal and plastic devices -- were piled in a corner by a tall filing cabinet.
Albert noticed the nervousness in the dog's eyes. "You have one more chance to back out," he repeated. "This process will be physically and mentally stressful."
The dog swallowed hard, and repeated, "no. I want to do this."
To make sure, Albert pulled out a tap recorder, and had the wolf make a statement.
"I, Roger Grayback, agree to be trained by you, Albert, at your residence at times and places as decided upon individually. In return for your training, I agree not to condemn you or hold you liable for and physical or mental anguish you may cause during that training."
"Good," instricted the cat, saving the tape in the top draw of three in the filing cabinet, "now return here at 3 AM day after tomorrow."
The dog blinked twice again. "Three -- in the morning?"
"That's correct," commanded Albert, "for I will want you short on sleep when we begin."
The dog hesitated, but consented, after a long pause. He was escorted out the back door, and told to use it from now on.
As he watched Roger walk back to the street, Albert knew not only that the dog would appear, but that he had the natural desire to complete the entire regimen. This personality trait, which Albert was convinced he could see in the wolf's soft blue eyes, would make him succeed.
***
The second time Roger appeared, he looked far worse. He was also 30 minutes late.
Albert pulled him into the house and locked the door. Roger looked so droopy, that even taking a step over the threshold instead of tripping seemed a great effort.
"You will make up that 30 minutes to me, won't you? And from now on," he continued over Roger's next words, "you will call me 'master'. Do you understand?"
"Yes -- master," the wolf added after a moment's pause, when Albert waited for it.
Albert smiled; he planned to make Roger far more accustomed to using that word. And he knew just how to start.
"Good. We'll start with an interview. Sit," he instructed, calmly but with a bite in his voice. Roger, taking the cue from the direction of the gesture, sat in the hard, steel chair. He tried to make himself as comfortable as he could but based on his continued squirming after Albert strapped his arms and legs down, was unable to.
Albert wanted him uncomfortable so that he would tell the truth; not factual truth as a torturer might wish, but rather, emotional truth as a psychologist wanted. He wanted Roger to admit things he could tell no one else to break down barriers he would use later.
"I want you to answer all of my questions to the best of your ability, and truthfully," he began. "Do you understand?"
Roger nodded drowsiness loosening its grip due to his discomfort.
"I want a verbal response," clarified the cat as he pulled a large, blank pad and pencil toward him. "Do you understand?" he added when silence followed.
"Yes -- master," added the dog after a moment.
"Then, describe what a typical day is for you."
"I get up, get breakfast --"
"Eat what?" interrupted Albert.
"Usually just toast, but it varies, I guess. Sometimes, if I'm feeling energetic, I make eggs."
"What after breakfast?" asked Albert right away.
"It depends what day it is. Most days, I have to go straight to my first class, that's psychology, of course, which is how I know about this."
Albert smiled. "What if it's a weekend, or there is no class?"
"Then, Luke doesn't have to go anywhere, so..." Roger trailed off.
Albert now suspected he was getting somewhere as he wrote notes describing the schedule. "So?" he repeated, trying to look intently interested.
"Well, um, that's -- that's between Luke and me," smiled Roger.
"I understand," nodded Albert. He knew there was a mask keeping Roger from elaborating. Time in his chair would break it, but for now, Albert let the point drop.
He asked about the rest of his weekday schedule, getting the details of classes, free time, and evening engagements. These were enumerated by Roger slowly, with careful diction. Clearly, he was tired, but his memory was working reasonably well. This is what Albert intended; even if there were gaps and problems, he would fill them in later.
The paper he wrote upon, never the less, was beginning to show clear times when Roger would be able to show up for Albert's future work. All of this took 20 minutes, with Roger's wandering eyes, and rather droopy apperance. Albert put up with his long pauses and occasional memory failures caused more and more by his discomfort.
By the time he had gone over his weekly schedule, Albert could see the chair beginning to do its work. With nearly Roger immobilized from the shoulders down, he was starting to hurry his answers, and thrashed his tail behind him. Albert then continued with his weekend schedule, appearing ignorant of Roger's pain.
"After -- you know what," the wolf continued hurridly, voice becoming strained, "I usually study, because during the week, I don't have time, but so far, the semester has been good about that." He was starting to lean forward, more and more, the only muscle he seemed able to stretch.
"Every weekend is different," he concluded. "Most of the time, I schedule things during the week, maybe, and I will probably end up with you some weekends. Please, can I get out of this chair?"
Albert smiled. It was time to pull off Roger's mask. "I'm afraid not," he replied, trying to keep the streak of sadism out of his voice that made him sligtly enjoy this. "I'm not done with questions."
"But it's starting to --"
"Pain is involved in being a good servant," interrupted Albert, "and speaking of which, you forgot the 'master.'" He gave Roger a look of mock disappointment. "I'm afraid for that offense alone, you will have to stay in that chair a while longer."
Albert could see the pain spread over Roger's face as he finished that sentence. The wolf blinked, winced, silently gasped, and tried harder than ever to rearrange himself.
"Now, let us review," continued Albert. "What are you to call me?"
"Master," whimpered Roger, pain seeming to redouble in his face.
"Will you answer all my questions?"
"Yes, master."
"If that makes you squirm," pointed out Albert, at his response, "you will be writhing when we are done."
He ignored Roger's next response: a hard blink, followed by a tear running out of each eye.
"Let us talk," stated Albert, "your schedule on weekends."
"I don't have one, master, sometimes I stud--"
"But you did say," Albert pointed out, starting his next line of questioning, "there was one event at the beginning of the day. What was it?"
"I --" Roger had some difficulty, and squirmed again. "I -- Luke and I -- well, --"
"Yes?" insisted Albert, feigning ignorance.
"We -- we mate, master," Roger finally forced himself to say.
Albert's immediate reponse was, "how?"
Puzzlement appeared to cover Roger's pain for a moment, making him go motionless, as his sleep-deprived brain tried hard to understand the question. "What do you mean how?"
Albert gave him a stern look. Roger repeated quickly, "what do you mean how, master."
Albert nodded, and explained. "I would like more detail about exactly what it is you do."
"More detail?" repeated Roger in a whimper, eyes becoming larger.
Albert gave him that look again.
"More detail, master," he stated, rather than asked.
Albert nodded. "For instance, how do you start? Do you just jump into it, or do you kiss each other first, or what?"
"What happens is -- I just -- One of us, anyway, wakes up, and realizes it's Saturday, and -- and that's how it starts -- master," he added after a moment. His right leg spasmed twice, indicating to Albert the chair was beginning to serve its purpose most effectively, as Roger whimpered in quiet pauses, and was now crying silently.
Albert could figuratively hear Roger's mask starting to crack. "Alright, so after you wake up, how do you wake Luke up? Shake him?"
Roger shook his head.
"Whisper? Kiss his face?"
Roger wordlessly whined in pain.
"Is that yes?"
"Yes, master," he panted.
"You're getting better," Albert encouraged, breaking for a moment with his detached demeanor. "Now then," he continued as he restored it, "you wake up Luke. You kiss his face. He wakes up, then what?"
"Then, um -- he knows its Saturday, master."
"You are only prolonging your torment by not answering me," chastized Albert. "Since he knows it's Satruday, what does he do?"
"He gets -- horny," Roger whined, tail whacking against the chair as if it could knock it over, as his right leg spasmed again. "Master!" he screeched, when Albert did not respond to him.
Albert asked the next question with the least possible pause, getting faster too, knowing that Roger couldn't have his mask broken if he was in too much pain to think. "Okay, so he's horny, what does he do to you then?"
"He -- grabs my head and -- and -- and --" Roger seemed to have real trouble with this one. "Pushes -- pushes it down -- to his crotch."
"And then what do you do?"
"I -- I suck on his -- dick!" cried the wolf, tears running down his face.
Albert wasn't writing; he didn't care if the information was accurate. The likes, dislikes, and habits of Roger would be discovered to him in time.
It took Roger a moment to realize he forgot the magic word, and the pain hit him. "Master!" shouted the dog, allowing Albert to respond again.
"So you suck on him, and then what happens?"
"Then, he -- he reaches down and -- and -- and he -- he fondles me, master!" sobbed Roger.
"And do you enjoy it?"
Roger was painting, shaking, and crying. His voice dropped to a weak sob. "yes, master."
This made Albert hurry his questions even more. "Does he ever suck on you?"
"Yes, master."
"Do you enjoy that?"
"Yes, master."
"Does he ever perform anal sex on you?"
"No, master, it hurts too much."
"You suck him, he fondles you, who comes first?"
"Him, master."
"Then what?"
"Then he -- sucks on me master."
"And you enjoy that, you said."
"Yes master."
"Then you come?"
"Yes, master."
"Does he let you fondle him?"
"I usually don't, master."
"Why not?"
Roger deadlocked for a moment before answering. His eyes looked back into Albert's in a moment before filling with stark terror. "I just don't want to, master!" he shouted, "I'm sorry! I don't know! Please let me go, master!"
Albert unstrapped the wolf as quickly as he could. Roger immediately stood up, but fell when his leg spasmsed again. Albert knelt on the floor beside him, and pulled Roger's head into his chest.
This caused a new wave of crying to imminate from the wolf; whining, whimpering, wailing wordlessly into Albert's shirt. All sadism was gone in the face of a display like this.
Albert just patted him on the head, and held him in his arms. He just kept whispering, "I know it hurts... it's over now... I know... I know... it's over now..."
When his speech returned to intelligability, Roger's first words, still dripping with sobs, were, "I never want to sit in that chair again."
"Okay, okay," reassured Albert, "if you will continue your training, and do as I say, you never will have to."
"I will... master," he whimpered.
"Understand," Albert repeated yet again, "much of it won't be pleasant."
"It can't be as bad as the chair," cried Roger. Those were just the words Albert wanted to hear.
The cat got up when Roger's crying stopped, and in an act of compassion, wrote Roger a note on a clean sheet of paper. "That's all for today," Albert stated, as if he were concluding a class. "Please show up the day after tomorrow, when you don't have class, and if you want to, give this to Professor Longtail. He'll give you a day off."
Roger looked over the note, and gave an exasperated smile. "Thank you -- master," he added when Albert gave him the look again.
"Off you go then. I'll see you at 4 PM, after your last class." Roger nodded, quite exhausted, and slowly stumbled out the door.
***
The next day, Professor Longtail knocked on Albert's door. Albert was busy contemplating what he was going to do with his new student, trying to decide how to instill the correct effect without letting his own sadism or lust get away from him. He stopped the tape he was listening to, and found the rather shaggy lion standing there in a relaxed but firm pose.
"Ah, John," invited Albert, "come in. I assume this is about my note?"
The lion wore a skeptical look about his rough main and sharp brown eyes. "Yes, it is. May I ask why you excused one of my students?"
"He was having muscle pains," replied Albert sympathetically, having difficulty hiding his mischevous grin.
"I hope there was a good reason. A psychologist has no power over a law professor." There was a hint of humor in his voice, but none in his face.
"I know that. Believe me, if you call him, he will confirm what I've said."
Albert was sitting on the couch, and as a result, could not stop the lion from reaching over and pressing play on the tape Albert was listening to a moment ago. "-- agree not to condemn you or hold you liable for and physical or mental --" Albert jumped up and managed to hit stop before Roger's voice got any further.
The lion gave a disapproving look only a judge could project. "Don't tell me you're doing this again."
Albert carefully asked, "what do you mean again?"
"Unless you never quit," growled Longtail.
"John," sighed Albert, "you make it sound as if I force them into this. Dear Roger came to me of his own volition --"
"-- into something that attempts to bind him to something completely illegal," Longtail finished with a snap.
"He agreed," Albert insisted, hitting play again.
When Roger had finished his short paragraph, Longtail laughed. "You don't really expect that to do any good, do you?"
"It's not about the law, it's about his state of mind!"
"And how do you know that the legal student didn't know it wouldn't hold up? He probably did!"
"No one has ever attempted to enforce such a thing!" snapped Albert, "with one exception of course!"
Silence filled the room. Albert, despite his continued affection for the lion -- nearly as gray as he was -- found it impossible to forgive him for what he had done.
"I simply thought," Longtail sighed after a while, "that it went too far."
"Going too far is the entire point, John! It's probably my fault for not recognizing you were not right for it, but you cost me my tenure!"
"This 'training' of yours is not consideration, Albert."
"It's not anymore," growled Albert.
"I'm sorry," stated the lion, "but at least I didn't go for unconscionability." His eyes remained cold, but his voice indicated his regret was genuine. "Besides," he continued, "you did admit to getting sadistic pleasure out of it -- far more than I asked, I suspect."
Albert smiled ruefully. "You're the one who said I was 'a sicko in the Nth degree'," he mumbled.
"And I still believe that," stated the lion firmly.
"The question is," interrupted Albert, "will you accept my note? If you do, I agree -- and I know this is a contract -- not to ask you to exempt him from your classes for any medical reasons related to -- my lessons."
After contenplating it for a moment, probably checking the wording, Albert thought, the lion nodded. "Agreed." He walked out quietly, and Albert let him go without another word, closing the door behind him.
***
The next day, as Albert finished his dinner, there was a knock from his basement. He hurried downstairs and opened the door to find Roger looking somewhat more alert, but this time visibly more nervous.
"I chose this time," explained the cat, as if he were in the middle of a normal conversation, "because Luke, if I remember your statements correctly, should not notice you're gone."
"Yes, that's right."
"That's right what?"
"Master," Roger added, his voice dropping in resignation as he said it.
"I thought the lesson that night would have taught you to call me 'master' by now. We will have to work on that."
Albert paused a moment, and seeing tension on Roger's face, asked, "are you scared?"
"A little bit, master."
"You shouldn't be. This will not be pleasant, but it will be nothing compared to that chair. We will begin with one of the things I do in order to make things easier later. You, Roger, are going to do some house cleaning. Do you know how to do that?"
"Yes, master."
"Wrong," replied the cat. "Not at my house you don't. You are going to do it so as not to miss any spec of dirt. Do you understand!?" he suddenly roared, making the wolf back up reflexively.
"Yes, master," he replied, eyes far wider than a moment before.
"Good. In that case, you can scrub the floor." He took the bucket out of the corner, and instructed, "go upstairs and fill this. When you return, strip off your clothes, and get started."
Roger's ears dropped as he reached into the bucket, and pulled out his instrument of scubbing: a toothbrush.
Albert followed him up to the kitchen sink, supervising his every move. Just watching him, with his moderate bulk and clean shirt, made the cat excited. Once the bucket was full, Albert let a small dose of his lust get the better of him. He grabbed one of Roger's ears, and used it to bend his head down.
Roger whimpered in the pain this caused him.
"At my house, you do everything my way," growled the cat, "is that clear?"
"Yes, yes master," Roger stammered.
Albert let him go. And gave him a push on the shoulders, almost making him slop water on the floor as he started down the stairs.
When he got to the bottom, Albert's harsh tone continued. "Now strip off," he commanded.
Roger pulled off his shirt, revealing fairly bulky arms and a cut chest, but then hestiated.
"Did you understand me?" snapped Albert, a rhetorical question.
"Yes, master."
"Then strip off!"
Roger, with great embarassment, slowly slid down his pants, revealing legs more muscular than his arms, and a pair of red boxers. Again, he hesitated.
"I'm waiting!" growled Albert, heart racing as he wanted to see the last bit of Roger's skin.
As Roger slid down the boxers, revealing a modest set of private parts, Albert silently stared. He could tell the buttocks attached to the legs were strong, and covered wit the same light-gray fur on his legs and arms. The chest fur was white, the only exception other than the face to the gray pattern.
Albert's own private parts started making obscene suggestions, but he managed to resist. This was a lesson in humiliation, not technique.
"I can see why Luke likes you," he purred, dropping his voice dramatically as he examined Roger's bare body with his eyes. He almost couldn't wait to see how sensitive all of his skin was, or what his well-trimmed fur felt like, but that was another lesson. For now, there was only one task in front of Roger.
"Now be a good boy," Albert murred, "and get to work on that floor, starting there." He picked up Roger's clothes in a pile and put them on the table with a secret sniff.
Roger seemed more meloncholy than ever as he slowly knelt -- grunting in pain as he kelt on the concrete floor -- and started scrubbling with the corner Albert had pointed to.
Albert mostly read and wrote papers on his desk, but did occasionally comment. "You still feel embarassed, don't you?" Albert asked as Roger finished a half-inch-wide strip across the floor.
"Yes, master."
"You shouldn't be. It is entirely within expectations to have your master see you naked. After all, what is the purpose of this training? You can't have clothes on for that."
"If you say so, master," Roger replied limply as he began working on the next strip.
Albert wanted Roger to work until 8 PM; based on his last several "students", that would be a reasonable approximation of when exhaustion would set in. He read for a while, getting through considerable paper, when he heard the scrubbing of tiny bristles stop, and the brush handle be clapped down on the concrete.
He looked up to find the wolf had completed just about 20 percent of his task. The path, from one side of the room to the other, was just over a foot wide. Roger was knelt half way through another strip, and looking horribly uncomfortable.
"Getting tired?" Albert asked, "It's only 5:30."
"I just need a break -- master," Roger winced as he slowly got from his knees onto his feet.
"Well you can't have one if you're going to finish this by 8 o'clock."
"8 o'clock?" Roger repeated with a hint of fear.
"Eight o'clock... unless you would prefer more questions in the chair," Albert calmly threatened.
After stretching his arms and back for just a moment, Roger returned to his knees.
"That's a good boy," reassured the cat, and returned to his book.
The dog worked, and Albert listened to the sounds of gentle scrubbing. However, it wasn't too long after when the toothbrush was put down again.
"Now what?" growled the cat.
"Bathroom, master," growled Roger back, getting to his feet.
"No," commanded Albert, getting to his, "keep working."
"But Master, I --"
"I heard you! Hold it, and get back to work!"
Roger, quite exhasperated, glared at Albert. Albert glared back. He felt like being cruel, and the situation happened to make such actions a virtue, since they contributed to the long-term goal of the exercise.
"Back on your knees," growled the cat.
Roger blinked several times, but did not move.
"If you want to be a better servant, then you must learn how to serve, even against the needs of your own body," finally snarled Albert. "If you don't, it's back to the chair."
Roger still did not move.
Albert picked up the bucket, and put it down on the table.
Roger's eyes remained defiant. "Master, you should know that before too long, ..." Roger began, but then went quiet.
Albert assumed that this was another one of those things he couldn't say. "I don't believe you really have to go," Albert lied, trying to shock Roger out of his anger.
"Of course I do, master," growled Roger.
"I think you're just lying to try and escape from your work."
"I'm not!" protested Roger, voice indicating more fear than anger.
That was just what Albert was looking for. He pulled Roger toward the table, who did not resist, and then forced his head down into the bucket of water. After five seconds, and after what could best be described as total and sudden panic by Roger, he pulled it up.
"I do, master!" shouted Roger blindly, "I swear it!"
Albert pushed his head back in, Roger tried to push back, but Albert kept it under for a full ten seconds before releasing him.
"Please, master! I almost --"
"What? What did you almost do?" snapped Albert, wanting to break the mask.
"I -- I -- I almost -- peed myself, master."
Albert decided to change his tack. "Then, I will let you go, but only if you promise to finish by 8 o'clock."
"Yes master!"
"And if you promise not to complain again."
"Yes master!"
"And if you will submit to the other embarassing things I will have you do."
"Yes master!" whimpered the wolf.
Albert released him, and the dog sprinted up the basement stairs. Albert could only hope his bathroom was close enough; he did not want an accident on the carpet.
Roger returned within five minutes, looking much more relaxed. Immediately, he got back on his knees, and worked faster than he had before, despite the fatigue in his posture. As Albert predicted he would, Roger, finished the room at 7:52 PM.
"Good work," he complimented after hearing the toothbrush clap down for the final time, "you may leave for tonight. Return here in three days at 4 PM."
Roger did not appear to hear the message, but Albert was sure he would return never the less.
***
Once again, there was a knock at the back door. Albert had been waiting for this. In his mind, it was verification that -- despite all the pain he had put upon Roger -- the dog would not stop what he had started.
He confronted Roger with this very fact. "I'm surprised you have returned after everything I've done to you," he remarked.
Roger looked up at him, lowering his head slightly when he answered. "I wish to complete this, master."
Looking submissive was another thing Albert had never told him to do, and was a good sign. Albert knew that, psychologically pain was a scalpel -- and that humans mosly used it like a switchblade.
"And Luke does not wonder where you have gone off to yet?"
"I have told him it is a surprise, master."
Albert smiled. "Good idea," he purred, leaning forward a little. He found it too easy to fall into any pair of eyes he had softened.
"Thank you, master."
Roger seemed to have improved while Albert was gone in his behavior. Albert decided to see how deep this went. "Why are you so eager to please me?" he asked.
Roger swallowed, and shifted his eyes.
"Well?" asked Albert, without the slightest hint of irritation in his voice.
"Because --" Roger seemed to have difficulty saying it. "Because -- because I don't want you to punish me."
Without the slightest change in his warm gaze, Albert slapped the wolf across the face in a lighting fast motion. "You forgot to say 'master'," he whispered right in the wolf's ear. "I do not punish," he continued over Roger's attempt at an apology, "because usually you must do something wrong for that to happen. That, for example, was a punishment. But would you consider your excellent cleaning of my floor punishment?"
"Yes, master."
"Wrong," stated Albert levelly, and slapped Roger on the other cheek, just as hard. This got a small whine out of Roger, and a much longer wince of pain.
"Look at me," whispered Albert.
The wolf forced his eyes, tears on their lower edges, to turn back into the cat's. "I am trying to teach you something very imporant. That is --" he paused dramatically, before finish the sentence in the quietest whisper. "-- you, are, nothing, by, yourself."
"All of this," he continued in a normal voice, "is to teach you that. It is imperitive that, if you are to do as your master wishes -- present and future -- that all of your instincts, fears, and initiative is gone. There is only one way I know of to do that, and you are going through it right now."
Albert walked behind Roger, whose eyes were unable to follow. His head simply would not spin to an angle great enough. When the cat left his sight, he could see Roger's ears raise slightly, probably in nervousness.
"You must have no fear of pain," he continued, "you must expect it." He then grabbed a broom, and swung the handle at Roger's head.
It hit his skull hard, but did not break the skin. The wolf's head was knocked forward, but he recovered in a moment.
"What was the last thing I said!?" roared Albert, a memory test as well as an expression of his sadism. Hitting his students gave him a shot of adrenaline he could not help but enjoy.
It took Roger a moment to answer. "That I must -- must have no fear of pain," he repeated. Albert walked around to the front again, and slapped him, getting the tears to flow again.
"You forgot the master!" he roared. "You were doing so well," he chastised in a much quieter voice. "I fear I will have to keep you here for a while and instruct you."
Albert wore an evil grin, which was unfortunately genuine. He always knew that such furs always brought out the worst in him, but it was something he felt he could induldge for one day.
Roger looked up at him, still trying to be submissive, but clearly his eyes were filled with tears and terror. Albert thought he was afraid enough, and that he needed first to be shown his fears were all in his mind.
"First, you will be doing some push ups." Albert pushed him at the floor, from which Roger prevented himself from falling, but immediately, got down on his hands and feet.
The wolf did not last long, even with the muscle he had; 46 was his limit. He returned to his knees and forearms.
"Did I say stop?" purred Albert.
"I can't go on, master."
"You only think you can't. Just do one more, and then one more, and then one more."
Roger did his best. Albert could see his eyes, his muscles, and his sweat drawing upon every last limit of his willpower. The next 12 pushups were agonizingly slow, each taking nearly 10 seconds each, down and up.
"You are mightier, than you know, Roger," continued the cat, "just one more." Down, up. "Just one more."
Roger's arms collapsed under his weight 5 "just one more"s later. Panting like his wolf ancestors on a hot day, the dog just lay there.
Albert let him rest for just a moment -- half a minute to his best estimate -- before issuing the next command. "Strip off all your clothes."
Roger did so mechanically, arms pushing the shirt over his head, and the pants around his hips in thrusts. It seemed to require the same strength of one push up.
"Roll over onto your back," purred the cat.
The dog did so in a three-jerk motion, Albert eying his limp malehood on its way around.
Albert reached down and rubbed Roger's belly a few times.
Muscles were too limp to shake as his hand touched the soft fur, and Roger's eyes blankly followed. Roger's face did not seem to change, either, from change the weariness that had replaced the fear.
"Are you embarassed about being naked?" purred Albert, finding it difficult not to take advantage of the situation that would disrupt the current regimin. Roger nodded, starting to catch his breath at last.
"But you stripped off without hestation. That is the response I want from you all the time."
He could hear his voice becoming more excited. It was impossible, now, not to fully examine the form of the wolf before him. Albert tried to deny he was becoming aroused, but his body was telling him differently.
He ran his hands through the soft, half inch fur that covered Roger. Unlike Albert, the gray was Roger's coloring, for the dog was certainly under 30. Albert sighed, and reflected the gray around his head and neck was fading of his solid black fur, not a pattern within it.
"All I want," he continued, trying to stay out of either lust or la-la land, "is you to enter a new state of mind without fears. Even your reflexes are going to be changed. This is only one example. The next, I fear, will require more pain."
Roger nodded, but whimpered quietly.
"Have you yet recovered?"
"Almost, master," he sighed, voice close to normal.
"Good enough, then. Get up."
Roger slowly stood, rolling over onto his knees before getting to his feet.
It was becoming more difficult for Albert to control his lust. "Put your back to the wall," he growled.
Roger shuffled on his feet until he could lean comfortably back against the wall -- at least as comfortably as he could be expected.
Using the restraints for that purpose, two long chains hanging over Roger's head, Albert locked Roger's wrists tightly into the cuff-like manacles, and the result was that Roger was stuck to the wall at a few feet of distance. The chains allowed the subject to be even shorter than Albert, and the difference in Roger's height gave him some leeway.
Albert then made Roger stand a step or two forward away from the wall, leaned the wolf's head back against it, and padded it with his hand.
Albert instructed with a deep breath, "try to get up from the wall."
He just pushed Roger's skull harder when the head tried to move.
"You see," growled Albert, a fully formed tent under his trousers, "you can't resist, even if you want to. Does this frighten you?"
Before Roger even answered, the fact that he continued to try and resist harder was Albert's answer.
"It shouldn't," he purred, "because it is when you are able to resist that you are not doing your job. When you are unable, you should be happy."
He let go of Roger's neck, to find pleasantly that the dog did not take the opportunity to straighten himself.
"That's better," he whispered, letting his hands run down Roger's chest and arms. Albert mrred quietly as he felt his short fur interact with the comparatively longer fur of the wolf. It was getting harder to stay on task, but Albert resisted with all his might; he would soon be substituting one strong desire for another.
"Do you think I am evil?" whispered Albert, brushing his chest up aginst Roger's.
"No, master," answered the dog meekly, "you are trying to teach me."
"That's right," purred Albert, petting the back of Roger's head with his free hand. "Stand up straight."
Roger did quickly, and his eyes began to show more fear not less at the sudden command.
Without any more warning, Alber slapped him across the cheek again. When the dog did not make any noise or shed tears, he slapped the other cheek and the first, back and forth, with all his might. After 7 consecutive slaps, he paused.
Roger's eyes were now painfully shut, his teeth gritted, and his breath coming quickly and shallowly.
"You are still scared," Albert stated, explaining his goal of such torment -- aside from his own sadistic enjoyment. "You must not fear pain, but learn to expect it."
He then punched Roger across the soft belly, knocking the wind out of him. Roger collapsed, but that put strain on the chains binding his wrists, making him instantly but wobbly stand.
He was still doubled over, and trying hard to breathe when Albert spoke to him. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Yes master," he whispered.
"What will you do to get me to stop?"
"Any -- anything master," he wheezed.
Albert waited until he was breathing semi-regularly before he slapped Roger twice more, starting to breathe more heavily himself from the exertion.
"Roger," he growled, getting into the spirit, "I can hit you dozens of times, and dear Luke will never, ever, know."
Roger responded with tears and non-verbal whimpers.
After ten more slaps, six on Roger's sore cheeks and four on the shoulders, Roger was whining and panting in misery, eyes seeming to loose focus.
"Have you had enough yet?"
Roger did not answer, but just stared off past Albert.
"Don't you want this to end?"
"Yes master," he whispered.
"You must expect the pain. Say it!"
"I must expect the pain, master," he whispered.
"Do you fear the pain?"
Roger took a moment to answer. "No, master," he whimpered, blinking hard as he said it.
However, that and other factors in his face told Albert otherwise. "You're lying," growled Albert, and did two more slaps to each shoulder, causing Roger to cry out in a primitive yelp for each one. He sunk to his knees, but the cuffs again reminded him he had to stand, and made him get up again, swaying from leg to leg as his muscules became less capable through the pain.
Albert slapped him some more, this time with his left hand, as his right was getting sore. After each of these got more tears, non-verbal begging and whining, and more hyperventalation, Albert took one more step.
"Do you fear the pain?" he asked one more time.
"No master," whined Roger meekly.
He pushed Roger against the wall. The wolf just let himself fall, arms not even reacting, and hit the concrete pretty hard.
Albert couldn't help but smile as Roger then staggered once again a step away. His instincts and reflexes were gone at last.
"You really aren't afraid, are you?"
The contorted face of Roger, filled with tears and pained cheeks, standing atop the pained chest, sore thighs, and staggering legs, murmured under a quiet whimper, "no master."
"What will you do to stop the pain?"
Quiet whimpering seemed the only tone of voice he had left through the sea of pain Albert had inflicted. "Anything master."
This was the statement that Albert's sadism was always working toward. The word always seemed to send a chill down his spine.
"Even more pain?" he asked viciously.
"Pain is to be expected, master."
"And if I ask the impossible?"
This one took concentration, unfocusing eyes trying to concentrate for a moment before the answer came. "I will try anyway, master."
One last question. "What is your strongest desire?" Albert whispered.
Roger sobbed, a new set of tears streaming down his face, "to please you, master."
Believing he was ready, Albert laid out what Roger was ready to hear, as his sadism turned to sympathy once again. "Then this is what I want you to do: focus on your state of mind, Roger. The pain has dulled your reflexes; quelled your instincts; blinded you to your fears. Right now, at this moment, you are the perfect servant."
Albert's sympathy took over as he offered the faustian bargain given to all of his students. "Capture this state of mind, this feeling," he promised, "and you will never be hurt again."
Roger's eyes closed, and his breathing began to slow as Albert's assault ceased.
"Block out everything except your desire to serve your master," Albert continued to whisper, "you have nothing to fear from him. You trust him completely. If he wishes pain, you will endure. If he wishes pleasure, you will enjoy. If he wishes the impossible, you will try anyway. You have no greater wish."
Albert slowly began to unchain Roger, who was still silently crying.
"Now," whispered Albert, his voice fully reassuring, "what did I just say?"
"I must -- keep a state of mind, master," Roger answered somewhat vaguely.
Albert ushered him gently over to his chair, and sat him down in it, never having slapped the buttocks for this reason. He began petting Roger's head affectionately, bendind over the chair where the dog sat.
"Now I want to ask you some questions," Albert said in his quietest voice. He wanted to check Roger's mask. "What is it that happens every morning on your weekends?"
"I -- we mate, master. We lick and paw."
Albert smiled; the response time was much faster. "And what did you almost do when I dunked your head in the bucket?"
"I almost peed myself, master."
Admittedly, these were both phrases Roger had constructed before. But Albert just wanted to see something that broke the mask, even if it was simple repetition.
Proud of his student, he offered, "I will give you a whole weekend to recover. I know this has been very hard for you. It always is. Come back and see me in four days at 4 PM, like you did last time."
Roger nodded, and slowly walked out the door, still looking quite dazed; his face seemed in a surrealistic state of fear, one which Albert could only hope would wear off before he got home.
***
Albert's weekend was long. It was impossible to get Roger out of his mind. Not only was he very cute, Albert thought, but he came to Albert without a referral, which was quite unusal. Normally, the first thing out of their mouths was the person who sent them; Roger's case was "I heard that" he taught this rare skill. He was indeed interested to know who from, but that would be something he could interrogate Roger for once proper trust had been established.
Many were willing to go through all the pain and humiliation, but few were able to capture the state of mind. That challenge was what separated the good from the bad; how quickly they were able to reproduce that without pain. As the fourth day arrived, and the knock on the back door was heard, Albert wondered which Roger would be.
As Albert had intended, Roger did not show a single bruise from his last session with Albert. The face, shoulders, and stomach had enough soft tissue with which to give Roger pain that no damage had occured. Unfortunately, there was one bump on the back of Roger's head, where presumably, he had pushed the wolf against the wall and he did not react.
"I apologize for that," Albert said, looking at the spot.
"It's alright, master," Roger replied, "I could explain it away."
"Is Luke getting suspicious?
"He was, but my return to normal reassured him."
Albert smiled. "Fortunately, I won't be hitting you today. The worst punishment will be sending you home early."
Roger just nodded, and looked at him with soft eyes.
"Today," he began excitedly, "we are going to teach you to enter the state of mind you were in last time, but without pain. This is where I determine how good a student you are, and if you are capable of continuing or not. Since I am assuming you wish to learn, I expect you will do well."
Roger gave a small smile at Albert's approval, but Albert began immediately. "Sit down, this time in this chair," he gestured warmly to his own chair -- a dramatic constrast to the steel one with restraints across the table.
Roger sat, and indeed looked quite pleased at being permitted to do so. "Now I would like you to close your eyes," Albert instructed, "and clench your left fist. Hard. And hold it."
Roger did, starting to accelerate breathing as he did, and teeth clenching. It was a lot of effort -- and that was the point.
"Now, Roger, you are putting all of you energy into that fist. Close you eyes. When you let go, it's all gone. Ready? Let go."
In an instant, Roger let go, and his body went limp in the chair.
"Good, Roger, you are very relaxed now. Your energy is gone. All you have to do is listen to the sound of my voice."
It was difficult for Albert to maintain this voice, being a strain, but he had done it many times.
Albert stood in front of Roger to watch his stress as Roger finished his two deep breaths. Albert began the narrative in his voice for hypnosis, relaxed and using the lower half of his vocal register.
"Now, Roger, I want you to remain relaxed, and try to remember what you were feeling last session. The pain was great, but that pain only made you focus more on the source of it. That is the focus I want from you now. Focus on the soud of my voice. Listen to the words. Forget everything else.
"This voice is very important to you, Roger. This voice is the voice of your master. You trust this voice. This voice tells you what to do, and you will do it. If it asks the impossible, you will try. The only thing you care about is pleasing this voice, doing what it wants. Everything else does not matter; your only desire is to do what this voice wants. Stand up."
Albert noticed a pause between his command, and Roger's immediate standing up. He hoped that was just because he had slipped it in there.
"Very good, Roger. It is clear that you want to do as the voice tells you, and that is good. Sit down."
Roger dropped back into the chair just as quickly.
"This voice is very important to you, Roger. Not only because it tells you what to do, but because it is also what tells you right and wrong. Stand up."
The wolf stood with a similar delay.
"You stand not only because you wish to obey the voice, but because it is the right thing to do. Everything the voice says is the right thing to do. Not doing what it says is the wrong thing to do.
"You can tell if you are doing right and wrong, by the tone of the voice." As if it were a continuation, Albert barked sharply, but no more loudly, "sit!"
Roger sat as quickly as he could, and Albert saw his face tense up.
"If you felt stress, nod."
The wolf nodded.
"If it was because you were surprised, nod."
He nodded again.
"If it was because you were afraid," shake your head.
He shook it.
"You must never be afraid, Roger. Do as the voice says, and all of your past wrongs will be made up for. It does not matter what caused them --" The voice in particular, Albert thought. "-- it is what you do next that shall determine your worth. Stand up."
Roger stood again. His face seemed to have relaxed since the last command to sit.
Albert rolled the chair away as quietly as he could. "It is also important that you trust this voice." He stood behind Roger. "It may ask you to do things which are in your fears or against your instincts. Even these commands must be obeyed. You must learn to suppress these things that tell you not to obey. Let yourself fall backwards." There was a full two seconds before Roger started to fall. Albert caught him by the shoulders, however, and Roger only reacted slightly.
"Stand up again," commanded Albert as relaxed as he could manage as he tried to push Roger to his feet again.
Roger reshifted his weight back to himself, and Albert walked back around in front of him.
"That was good, but you hesitated. You must act upon the instructions of this voice without regret, hesitation, or embarassment. You have nothing to fear. Now strip off your clothes."
Roger responded quickly, but Albert could see he was still somewhat embarassed. He seemed to be trying hard not to be, but to no avail. He got more and more stressed as he tried to take off his shorts, boxers, and shirt in that order.
"If you are embarassed," Roger continued, "nod your head."
Roger quickly nodded twice, almost twitch-like.
"You are not relaxed anymore," Albert stated regretfully. "I'm afraid you are not adequately skilled to continue."
Albert was serious, but knew that this "last chance" often was what made those with less skill suddenly find more of it.
"Open your eyes, and leave."
Roger opened his eyes, but protested. "But -- master, I want -- I want --" Albert let Roger finish whatever sentence he was trying to complete. "I want to keep going, master." He finally managed.
"Why?" asked Albert. "It would be a futile exercise, from what I've seen."
"I -- I want to finish. I really want to impress Luke. This is important to me."
"And somehow, this 'importance' wasn't there before? You can try harder than you did?"
"Yes, master. Please let me try." Roger's eyes were quite sincere, and compared to stripping off, his tension reduced.
Albert was still considering his inability -- really the fact that training him would require more time than Albert had -- skeptically, but was not nearly ready to call it done yet.
"On your knees," Albert instructed gently.
Roger dropped to them instantly, truely without a second thought.
"Now why did you just do that?"
"Because you told me to, master."
"Wrong," Albert retored. "You did that because you were afraid. You were afraid I was going to stop your lessons for good. Only because of that fear did you do what I told you to. Stand up." Roger did just as quickly.
"The point, Roger," he continued somewhat more harshly than he had intented, "is that you must do that without any fear. It is easy to compell compliance with fear; doing it voluntarily without any is your job. Show me your muscles."
Roger looked somewhat quizzical as he stretched his arms, and flexed his biceps.
"Good," commanded Albert, "now show me how strong your legs are."
Roger hunched down a little so he could flex all his leg muscles and have them buldge. He looked into the distance in front of him, face concentrating on holding tension.
"Good, now relax."
Roger stood up again.
Albert, who had been pacing around all this time walked behind Roger, and rubbed from his right shoulder to his left, in an arc around his neck. Albert saw him react, but then tried to stay still.
"You should not fear your master's touch," Albert purred in his ear, "you should think of it as indicating he is fond of you. It is a show of his good intentions, and belief that you are doing your job well."
Albert started gently massaging Roger's neck, and indeed, this got him to relax.
Albert gently ushured Roger over to the table, bent him over it slightly, and kept rubbing his way down to the middle of his back.
"Feel good?" he asked.
Roger nodded, and his breathing changed to slow and heavy. Without seeing his face, Albert could tell he was indeed starting to relax.
"This is how every touch of your master should feel," Albert continued, "think of it whenever you are touched."
Albert stopped, and then brushed Roger's arm. This time, the wolf did not jump in the slightest; if anything, he relaxed a little more.
"That's it," Albert reassured quietly.
"Now turn around," Albert instructed, trying to see if he could break another one of Roger's mild phobias. "Now, you decide how, and then show yourself off to me. Try to make yourself attrative," Albert purred.
He knew from the tent forming in his own pants that he did not need encouragement, but this was for Roger's psychological benefit. He could restrain himself -- for now.
"Being desired by your master is a very good thing as well," Albert continued, as he stared right between Roger's legs despite his arm and leg spreds. "It too is a sign you are doing your job. It, after all, is what leads to touching."
Roger sat on the table with his legs spread, and still appeared relaxed. As Albert continued to look, Roger in fact began to throb a little and become erect.
Before Albert got lost in lust, he commanded in as gentle a voice as he could, "put your clothes back on." It ended up rather hasty, but that only served to expidite Roger's redress.
Roger was blushing, but also smiling.
"You enjoyed, that didn't you?" asked Albert.
Roger's answer came after a pause as he got his shirt on. "Yes, master."
"There's nothing to be ashamed of. That is your job. That is your role, to be lusted after by your master. Even if you do not always feel that way yourself, you must still do as he says; and often, that means satisfying his needs."
Albert was incredibly hard from just thinking about his words. It was time to see if he could make Roger jump through a hoop or two.
"But, not always. Kneel."
Roger immediately got on his knees, the happiness fading from his face.
"Suppose I told you to kneel there for the next two hours, no getting up." Albert watched Roger's face tense at those words. "You know that would hurt a lot after a while. But would you do it?"
Roger's nervousness did not fade. "Yes, master."
"Why?"
"Because you told me to, master."
"Out of fear?"
"No, master."
"Then why?"
Roger seemed to have trouble with this question, and he got more concerned. "Because -- Because I am devoted to you, master."
"That is the correct answer."
Now, Albert thought, for the puzzle. "Suppose I gave you the choice: right now, would you rather kneel, just like that, for two hours? Or, would you rather go home?"
Roger swallowed and blinked. His knees shook slightly. Albert knew this was a sort of paradox. Even if he wished to show devotion by saying yes, that would mean Albert might ask it of him which he couldn't bear. Saying no was the opposite, which meant a failure of devotion, the primary attribute of this occupation. Albert did not intend to make Roger go through with it, but from the look on his face, the poor wolf didn't know that.
"Well?" asked Albert after half a minute of silence, "what shall it be?"
It took another several seconds before Roger whimpered, "I'll do it, master!"
"Stand up," Albert instantly commanded.
Roger looked surprised.
"Stand up!" Albert repeated louder.
The baffled dog stood, but looked at Albert questioningly.
"I said 'suppose', didn't I? I wasn't actually going to put you through it if I said yes."
Roger sighed audibly in relief, and Albert had made his decision.
After seeing the wolf's body, his desire to continue in the exercise, his success in touch, and his willingness to endure pain, Albert decided to let him continue. If anything, Albert told himself, he could make it lots of fun.
"With that, we are done for today. Your training will continue to the end."
"Thank you, master," answered Roger submissively, though Albert could tell he was quite glad.
"Show up here day after tomorrow, 4 PM, right after class again."
Roger nodded.
Albert walked over to the door. "You may go," he commanded as he opened it, "see you then."
***
Albert was on the phone when the basement door rapping was heard.
"Listen, I have a consultation. Could I start with you next week?" he asked matter-of-factly.
"Sure," replied the shy voice at the other end of the phone, "I think Mary will be in class at 2 PM."
"Sounds good," confirmed Albert, remembering Roger's class schedule, "I look forward to it."
He hung up the phone, smiling. This was another of his invisible referrals.
Roger stepped in, and quickly, looking nervously over his shoulder. This got Albert worried.
"Were you followed?" he asked hesitantly, since that seemed to be Roger's concern.
"No, master, I just thought --" He swallowed. "I just thought I saw Luke across the street."
Albert's house was two blocks away from campus, since he was in community housing. Followers or angery lovers were something he always had to worry about, since all of his students attended that college. "I wouldn't worry about that," he reassured, patting Roger on the back to test him, "I'm sure he wouldn't be this far away from his next class."
Roger took the pat on the back as a surprise, but then closed his eyes.
"Trying to remember the massage?" asked Albert.
"Yes, master. You said --"
"I did, Roger," Albert interrupted, "but it must be automatic. When you were surprised, you lost your concentration, and the effect wore off. Your future master will often surprise you. It is essential that your servitude be automatic, or at least you have the right reflexes."
Without warning, Albert gently squeezed Roger's rump through his pants. He jumped, but tried to hide it, and kept his eyes closed. "Yes, master," he replied.
"In that case, take off your shirt."
This made him take a nervous breath, and re-open his eyes. "Yes, master," he replied, voice filled with angst.
"Are you afraid of doing pushups?" Albert growled coldly.
"No, master."
"Then why are you so nervous? Speak up!" he snapped.
"It's -- it's my test, master."
"What?" Albert repeated, the lack of context making the response meaningless.
"Professor Longtail has a --"
"Don't think about that!" snapped Albert, recognizing the reason immediately, and loathing it silently. "Shut your eyes!"
Roger did.
"Now, calm down, take a deep breath," Albert commanded in a more soothing voice.
Roger breathed in, puffing up his chest almost to the breaking point, and then exhaled; his face went almost limp when he did.
"Now listen to this voice," Albert continued, "the voice of your master. All you have to think about, the only thing in the world, is obeying this voice. You need this voice for your happiness, and you wish to please it, for yourself and for its owner."
When Roger seemed relaxed enough, Albert then stated levelly, "take off your shirt."
Without opening his eyes, Roger pulled it up over his head, both his arms, and held it in his hand. He did not hesitate or show any signs of embarassment.
"Good. Now open your eyes, and put it on the table."
Roger walked over to the table, and put down the limp piece of cloth.
Albert took a moment to admire, once again, Roger's furry chest, a large white patch in a sea of gray fur that covered the rest of him.
"Good," Albert repeated, his eyes managing to detaching themselves, "very good, Roger."
Roger then looked at Albert, down at a slight angle, attentively, clearly waiting for more directions.
Albert instead walked around behind the wolf where his eyes couldn't follow. "You've done very well, Roger," he repeated again, and put his hands on Roger's shoulders.
Indeed, Roger passed his test; he reacted, but then let his neck droop a little and relaxed.
"That's what I'm looking for," Albert purred. "You will do anything I say, won't you?"
"Yes, master," replied the wolf, his voice still relaxed.
"Strip off and put your clothes on the table," commanded Albert gently.
Roger, deciding to stare at the ceiling, unbuttoned his jeans, dropped them, slipped off his boxers around his knees, and then swiftly stepped out of them both, and put them on the table in a pile with his shirt.
Albert, having left his hands on Roger's shoulders the entire time, felt little tension. "Very good Roger," he purred. "Are you embarassed?"
"I am used to you seeing me like this, master."
He could tell Roger was trying to hide embarassment. "Like what?"
Roger shifted his head as he said it, and Albert felt him tense up for a moment, then relax again. "Naked, master," finally said the wolf.
"I suppose you would be less embarassed for Luke to see you this way?"
Roger seemed uncertain. "I think so, master," he replied.
"I suppose that will do then. Let's change the subject." Albert made his voice gruffer, and growled, "suppose I was really angry, and wanted to hurt you. Could I?"
Roger tensed up again. "Yes, master," he said, voice waivering.
"You tensed up, Roger. You must learn not to fear it." "Yes, master," he replied, relaxing again.
Albert released his shoulders, and grabbed Roger's hands in his, gently pressing each thumb on each of Roger's palms. "You trust your master, don't you?" he whispered.
"Yes, master," Roger replied obediently, ignoring the pain as Albert pressed a bit aginst the bone of his middle finger.
Albert then let go, and slowly moved his hands to Roger's thighs. Once again, Roger reacted, but then relaxed.
Albert slid his hands through Roger's fur, the feeling against his skin getting him hard all by itself, and finally arrived at Roger's tail base.
"Where am I allowed to touch you?" he asked again, as if getting permission one more time.
"Anywhere, master," replied the wolf.
Albert, after he had stroked Roger's buttocks, reached around, and started fondling Roger's balls and cock.
Roger remained relaxed, but soon got hard. This would be the last major barrier, Albert thought.
He bent Roger slightly forward with his back, as he continued to work on him. He couldn't resist rubbing his own cock against Roger's fur through his pants as he gave the command. "Come for me," he whispered.
Roger's breathing soon accelerated, and though his eyes remained closed, it was clear he was no longer relaxed. It took several minutes of rubbing and fondling, which was driving Albert crazy, but Roger finally came into his hands with a quiet groan.
Albert wiped Roger's prick on his hands, and when the wolf seemed to stop dribbling, Albert held his cupped hands up to Roger's head.
"Lick," he commanded.
Roger licked his own cum off of Albert's hands, and when they were clean enough according to Albert, he concluded, "you're finished with your training. I think you are as skilled as you will get. I hereby release you, and command you to make Luke your master. Wait to enter this frame of mind until he begins giving you orders."
Roger was so surprised that his answer took a moment. "Thank you, master," he said with wide, but happy, eyes.
"Now, go home, and show Luke your new skills at the first oppotunity."
"Thank you," he repeated, as he put his clothes on. "Is there some way I can -- repay you?" he asked.
Albert smiled. "Certainly, but I don't think Luke would like it very much," he teased.
Roger smiled, for the first time in a while.
"Good bye, then, I guess, master," he admitted.
"Just stop by sometime," Albert added.
"I will," Roger replied through the other side of the door.
***
Unfortunately, Roger's next appearance was far sooner than Albert had planned. Albert opened the door, and was quite surprised with the result.
Next to a very embarassed looking Roger was an equally tall cheetah with a an expression of great irritation, and an impressive musculature. The latter was easily visible in his arms and legs, since the warm day permitted him shorts and a tank top. If he had the reflexes of his ancestors, Albert saw he stood no chance should this character desire physical combat.
To avoid an immidate confrontation, he managed to say without stammering, "just a moment," and shut the door. He was immediately reassured by the fact that the door he rested his weight upon was not immediately set upon by the cat outside.
He rushed downstairs, nearly tripping as his legs carried him down two steps at a time, and dashed over to his pile of useful junk. He dug through it, and managed to find a push broom, as well as two pairs of handcuffs. He unscrewed the head of the broom, leaving him with a three-foot metal pole, which is what he wanted. He hoped to outsmart this opponent.
Carefully hiding these items behind the door, he re-opened it a crack, and asked in the most pleasant voice he could, "sorry about that. What is it?"
The cheetah crossed his arms, and remained silent and menacing. Roger spoke first.
"I am -- I am here introduce Luke," he stated. Based on his eyes, Albert could almost hear "master", but knew the wolf would supress it now of all times.
"I see," was all Albert could muster, vaguely expecting something like this might happen to him again. Professor Longtail was the previous example, but his muscle was legal instead of physical.
The cheetah still did not speak. "I'm afraid," Roger continued, "I have told him about how you trained me, because he forced me to," Roger continued.
Albert blinked slowly and gritted his teeth. "I see," he repeated. "And what does Luke have to say about it?" he asked, looking the cheetah directly in the eye.
He still did not speak. "He's -- not very happy about it," Roger replied, as if the fur in question were not standing right there.
"I see," repeated Albert a third time, this time in more resignation.
Behind this calmless, the psychologist was panicking. He was trying to figure out how to get them into the house gracefully so he could execute his plan. He shifted the rod around in his left hand, and keeping the door just barely open with his right. Not sure it would do any harm Albert next asked, "and how unhappy is he?"
Roger looked at Luke, and the cheetah finally spoke. "Let me in, you sick bastard," he snarled, "and you can find out."
Assuming this was indeed a threat, as well as an opportunity he wanted, he slowly opened the door fully, keeping his tools hidden behind it as his heart began to race.
"Very well, then, please co--" Before he could even finish the sentence, Luke was starting through the door, and Albert seized the moment. When Luke began his second step, and was examining the walls instead of watching where he was going, Albert inserted the bar between his legs at the shin.
The moment the cheetah fell, Albert pounced like his ancestors, and pinned the huge cat with the bar across the neck. Luke tried to push himself up, forcing Albert to also stand on the small of his back to subdue him. This made the cheetah growl, but stop trying to do a great pushup to escape. Several more times, he tried other ways to flip himself over, but the pressure Albert put him under made him give in every time.
"Roger," Albert said to the wolf, who had been watching the whole affair stunned, "I need your help. I am asking, just as someone whose life is probably in danger, to help me give this cheetah an experience to explain myself."
"Oh no, you sick bastard! You're not screwing me!"
He pushed up harder, but Albert's pressure with the broom, pained him back into submission, with a groan. "As much as I might like to," Albert replied calmly, not sure whether he would or not, given Luke's tenacity, "what I really want to give you an explaination."
Luke gave a sarcastic laugh. Albert turned back to Roger. "If you want to help me, grabs those and close the door," he instructed, pointing with his eyes at the two pairs of cuffs he had dropped when he had tripped the cheeetah.
Roger slowly walked toward the door, and closed it.
"Traitor!" roared the cheetah.
"Trust me," repeated Albert calmly when Roger hesitated, "he will recover. I won't recover from he has in mind."
Since the cheetah did not appear to disagree with him, neither verbally nor with his gaze, Roger picked up the cuffs.
"We must do this carefully, since I do not have the strength to overpower him," commanded Albert. "Can you keep him down for a moment?"
Roger smiled, reached down and started tickling the cheetah's bare feet. Despite attempts to keep a straight, angry face, the cheetah was in a laughing fit within seconds. "Traitor!" he laughed, unable to put anger in his voice.
Albert worked quickly. He rolled Luke over onto his back, cuffed his hands together, his feet together, and hung the cuff chains over the bar. "Thank you," panted Albert, still quite unnerved. "Now we pick up the bar. Ready? Lift!" Albert commanded, picking up his end.
Apperently before Roger knew what he had done, he too lifted. The cheetah was sudddenly hanging by his bound wrists and crossed legs.
"Hey!" Luke shouted, no longer laughing being suddenly turned most uncomfortably almost upside-down.
"To the basement!" commanded Albert. They hauled the cheetah to the basement, Albert glad it was a steel handle, and hung up Luke on two pegs on the wall.
"All I want," Albert stated, "is you to listen."
"The hell I will! This hurts!"
"If you had not been so threatening," retorted Albert, "I wouldn't have --"
"Quiet!" suddenly yelled Roger. Both Albert and Luke shut up in surprise.
Roger, evidently pleased at having their attentions, addressed Luke first. "If he owes you an explaination, hon," he instructed, seeming to take on the airs of a master, "the least you can do is let him give it."
"Make him untie me, first!" snapped Luke, tail thrashing about angrily.
"And what you do then? Kill him?" asked Roger flatly.
Luke sighed, and looked at the floor. "At least make him get me a chair," he mumbled after another squirm in his uncomfortable position.
Albert rolled his own out from behind the table. But rather than taking him down, Roger tickled his feet again. Luke laughed, and Albert smiled.
"You had better stop and untie him before I turn into the sicko he is accusing me of being," Albert instructed.
Roger immediately stopped, and at Albert's further instructions, chained the cheetah's wrists to two long chains hanging on the walls, and unlocked his ankles. Once his ankles were freed, his arm chains were long enough he was able to sit in the chair; his arms, however, were still stretched uncomfortably above him.
"Now then," began Albert, "allow me to explain." He paced up and down in front of the pair, both of whom paid attention to nothing but him. "You probably haven't heard the beginning of this story. It begins several years ago. To keep it short, when I was still teaching, a former student of mine wrote me the largest flirt anyone had ever seen. It was an assignment, a long essay on the psychology of restraint, arguing that context was everything. He started me on this subject, wishing to be victimized, and I have been getting referrals ever since."
Luke was silent.
Roger picked up the story, once again talking to his lover. "You told me that, if I was to really love you, I had to show respect. So --"
"I didn't mean this!" exclaimed the cheetah, more sympathy than anger in his voice. "I just meant, -- well, not this." He looked at Albert, and apparently avoided saying something. "Why did you let him torture you like this?"
"This was never part of it," added Albert, "I'm not strong en--"
"Shut up!" snapped Luke before returning immediately to his sympathetic voice in the blink of an eye, "I wish you would have told me sooner."
"It was supposed to be a surprise. Besdies, not telling you is part of it."
Luke looked at Albert skeptically, and Albert assumed he was allowed to speak again. "The idea is that you are supposed to notice the change first."
"I noticed, alright. First time he hasn't --" Luke took this pause to squirm under the pains of his arms. "-- hasn't, well, you know, in months, when you beat him up!"
Albert just nodded. He thought it wise not to mention the extensive detail Roger had given him about his "you know" practices.
"But that was temporary," Roger protested, "what you get out of this is -- well, I can show you."
"This had better be good," growled Luke.
"Please stand up, master," Roger asked in a higher-pitched voice than usual.
Luke did, apparently pleasantly surprsied by the sudden change in Roger's demeanor.
Albert wondered if he knew what was coming, and he was right. Roger started unbuttoning Luke's jeans -- until he was stopped.
"Hey. Hey! HEY!" Luke shouted. Only the third one stunned Roger. "In front of the sicko, are you crazy!?"
However, Roger was once again fully in submissive mode, and blinked submissively at his new master in shock and apology.
"Oh don't mind me," Albert teased, moving closer slowly to try and get his chair back. When the cheetah gave him a monstrous glare, he felt he should ask to avoid being kicked.
"May I have my chair back?"
Luke nodded sharply. As Luke rose slowly against the wall, Albert moved it back to the table, and sat down.
"I'm sorry, master," said Roger to Luke, eyes lowered in excellent form of his role.
Luke once again glared at Albert. Albert shrugged, and put his feet up on the table; he wanted to hide his growing erection. "I would be quite happy with him," he suggested.
"It sounds like you already have been," hinted Luke.
Albert did not respond; he merely turned his chair around to effect givine some privacy -- and then got the small mirror out of his desk for a more covert view.
Luke returned his attention to the wolf before him. "Has he been -- hurting you?"
"It was only to teach, master. Pain is to be expected."
Albert smiled.
"And what exactly has he been teaching you, anyway?"
"How I can show you my devotion, master."
Luke seemed to start getting the idea in his head what it was Roger was intending. "And what will you do to show your devotion, hon?"
"Anything, master."
It was a pair of words that always made Albert's heart flutter, and Luke's face indicated it was having the same effect.
"Well then, what do I usually want?" purred Luke.
Roger, without a word, silently resumed removing his shorts, and his undershorts. Albert was at a bad angle to see the size of Luke, but Roger moved his head enough in the way he couldn't have seen it anyway. As far as he could tell, Roger had a good technique; at least, it was good enough for Albert's pants to become tight, and Luke to start staring at the sky.
They finished soon enough, and as Albert predicted, Luke's mood dramatically improved after he came moaning and crashing back to Earth from the bliss Roger had given him. He wore a smile on his face that maintained even as he looked back at Albert, his former enemy.
"You have done a good job," he purred.
"I suspect what I have taught him will suffice."
"Good," he purred, and still with a smile, added, "now he and I will go home, and he will never see you again."
Albert, though disappointed somewhere in the back of his mind, nodded, and opened the back door for them.
Despite never seeing him again, Roger did not disappear. Like at least a dozen students before him, the dog could not resist writing his former master for his advice about his current one. Albert did his best to give general instructions in the field of knowing when to shut up, and how to try and trick someone into just saying what they want.
Albert, meanwhile, had to answer another knock on his door.
The End.
(version 1.0)