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Her master's latest guest was a loud one. Buzzcunt's teeth grit against her gag. The musclebound mare's body strained in her bindings. The vibes against her breasts and cunt turned on and off at random throughout the night. Never enough to push her over the edge.

Any orgasm she earned under her master's thumb was a gift. She remembered indulging in them, back before Buzzcunt was her name. Before Matthew, men treated her like a porcelain doll in bed. There were a few who attempted to be rough. But they were more looking to slam hard and fulfill their quick desires.

But not Matthew, not her master. The coyote took each night with her to profess how pathetic she was. His hands were the pen, and her flesh the paper. She saw the truth and it hooked her so much that she could not live without him. He was an addiction and he knew it.

His sadism was not only physical. As much as he loved to cover her in red marks, finding a pattern in the aftermath, his body had limits as did his patience. Her masochism almost denied him all the pleasure he sought, so he would find new ways to torment her. By far his favorite were the visitors upon his ranch. One night stands that Buzzcunt could only imagine by the weight of their footsteps up above. They were never around when he took her back to the field.

Phantoms of pleasure. His bed was directly over her. Buzzcunt heard every muffled creak, and pleasured cry. With her vibes, she nearly cried in her endless denial. If her tears would bring him down, she would have flooded the stalls with them.

They would not, and she instead sat idle in her stall. Hands bound to her sides in such a way that she couldn't end her ceaseless edging. What sleep she caught was enough for her work. Her internal clock remained strong, and by morning she heard a curious noise.

Footsteps. Too light for her master alone, or for a duo. His new lover? Buzzcunt's ears raised as she followed the sound, expecting the floozy to head into the kitchen and make herself breakfast. It wouldn't have been the first time.

They did not go towards the kitchen. Buzzcunt's eyes widened as she heard the steps travel to the basement door. A gentle tiptoe echoed down the stairs. One click of a switch, and the lights blared. Buzzcunt closed her eyes and turned her head away, letting the bindings across her body strain in her movement.

"O. M. G." A new voice emerged. Buzzcunt peeked from one eye, catching the gaze of a pantheress standing at the lightswitch. She stood naked save for a light blue bathrobe, both hands cupped over her mouth as shock froze her face.

The pantheress took a hesitant step forward. Buzzcunt steadied herself, surprised at the lack of scream or panic from her master's latest lay. No doubt the girl expected her to hate her position. That she needed rescue. No, Buzzcunt was content with her place.

So it came as a surprise when the pantheress exposed a smile behind her cupped hands. "Matty wasn't kidding." Matty? Buzzcunt huffed through her nostrils, insulted that her master would allow such a nickname uttered in his house. Her uninvited guest opened the stable door with care and stood in the shadow of the mare slave.

"Holy shit...you are buff," She spoke with surprise. Her hands caressed Buzzcunt's arms without permission. The mare did not push them away, her bodily rights had been forfeited long ago.

Curious fingers squeezed the soft muscles. "Jeez. I didn't know ladies could be so jacked. I thought he was joking about using a workhorse outside but..." The pantheress bit her lip. Buzzcunt noticed a blush burning underneath her black facial fur, "I bet you could snap me in half if you wanted. Do you want to?"

Of course she didn't. Buzzcunt's strength was only for labor, for her master's desire. The panther smiled wide as the mare shook her head. She reached around and unlatched the leash keeping her in the stall. The panther tugged it forward, leading Buzzcunt from the stall into the middle of the room. "I've never seen a real slave before. Never expected to see a willing one either." Whatever pride Buzzcunt had at that statement was overshadowed by caution. She knew to never disobey a command, but this was not her master, only his guest. In the past, disobedience, even to his visitors, was met with punishment. But he had been present each time.

Now it was just her and this woman, who took delight in groping her strong body after she looped the leash through the ceiling ring. Eager hands cupped her breasts, squeezing and pulling as Buzzcunt held her protests. "Wow, these feel natural. But that can't be right. No way you could have tits this big but be this buff."

Buzzcunt's training steadied her. She was meat, livestock, property to be used on a whim. The panther softly dragged her claws across her muscles, not enough to cut or scratch, but the threat lingered. Her vibes were plucked before their scheduled buzz, leaving her torment at the hands of her master's guest.

"You like pain, right?" The pantheress asked. "Matty said you were a masochist. He said plenty of other things, but that's a bit rude to repeat." They would be fitting all the same. Her master's words were law. Buzzcunt nodded at the question and felt a small chill at the base of her spine from the wide grin across the cat's face. "Fun...fun..." She eyed the implements on the wall, taking her sweet time pacing between them as her fingers ran along the length of each toy, "I've always wanted to play with one. But they feel so rare, almost mythical."

Through her experience with her master, Buzzcunt could gather the inexperience behind the pantheress's voice. It was too full of enthusiasm and excitement. So was the sting of the whip that she cracked against the mare's backside. Enthusiastic and excited, but inexperienced.

She reeled back all the same. Pain kicked her nerves awake. Training kept her from thrashing out. The pantheress cackled and snapped the whip down again, streaking a red mark across Buzzcunt's strong back. It lacked the stinging precision of Matthew's wrist, failing to coil around and hit the slave's side.

Three strikes before she dropped it. Buzzcunt bit into her gag as the sting lingered. "God, he has so many toys." The pantheress's curiosity soon painted Buzzcunt in a crisscross of red lines. From floggers against her back, paddles against her ass, and a horsecrop against her breasts. Buzzcunt found her guest most excitable with a thin wicker cane. It sliced through the air with a scream and her gagged grunt swiftly followed.

Unlike her master, there was no method to the panther's strikes. She did not focus on one area on repeat, but spun around and swung against any open spot. It hurt, Buzzcunt's own struggles made note of that, but it lacked the satisfying sting. From how much the panther chewed her own lip, Buzzcunt was sure she was dealing with a budding sadist.

When the strikes stopped, it was her tormenter's breath that filled the room. Red in the face, the panther's legs clasped close together as if she were holding something in. "Fuck..." She rested against the wall, accidentally clicking the pulley system. Buzzcunt's legs felt their fire quench as she was lowered down to her knees. "What the...oh," The panther smiled, "Oh. This is perfect, isn't it?" She tossed her latest toy aside, letting it join the pile of discarded tools as she strode over and lifted Buzzcunt's chin. The mare didn't object as her tormenter pushed her nose against the moist cunt between her legs. "You smell that?" She asked, as if Buzzcunt could ever say no. "That's all because of you. Maybe you should take responsibility for it?"

Matthew had not trained her for women. Buzzcunt remembered at least one encounter with a woman from her old life, one where she only received. So when the panther pulled her gag away and commanded her to eat her out, the mare hesitated. That cost her any semblance of air as her master's guest shoved her between her legs.

Her tongue lapped at and between the folds. Her lips suckled at the clit upon command. Training was the only bastion that held back Buzzcunt's disgust, the smell of the panther's cunt overpowering her nose. "Fuck...that's it, right there." The panther's claws clasped between the mare's ears, "Hold it there. Fucking buff muffdiver. All that strength and you're on your knees. Like an action figure turned sex toy." If Buzzcunt could offer pointers, she'd start with the panther's wordplay. Her mouth was too busy to attempt so.

Endurance won out inexperience as the panther cried out. Her fluids splattered against Buzzcunt's tongue and lips, leaving her drenched and uncomfortable in the cool chill of room air as she was let go. Her first gasp for breath filled her lungs with her tormenter's stench. She coughed, sputtered, but did not complain. A good slave had no need to.

"Holy..." The panther panted, her hand still clasped between the mare's ears, "Holy shit. Do you eat girls out often?" Buzzcunt shook her head. "Yeah, I kind of figured. Matty's better at it than you."

Buzzcunt would be lying if she didn't find such an image laughable.

"Still, you did a decent job. I should probably reward you." The panther kneeled eye to eye with Buzzcunt, her tongue lapped at her own lips. Her claws reached over and slowly pinched Buzzcunt's tight nipples. She pulled, released, and pulled again. Despite her best efforts, Buzzcunt's lips could not stay silent to the sharp drawn out scratches. Nor did this panther want her too.

"Oh, I know!" She stood. Buzzcunt's face was pushed to the floor by the panther's foot. Her master's guest hummed to herself as she twirled around the mare and squatted at her behind. "Raise it, come on." She smacked Buzzcunt's ass for emphasis. The mare raised her fanny up, exposing her loose pucker and moist cunt. Though the pantheress was without her master's expertise, pain was pain for the masochist.

"I've always wanted to do this." The panther said with glee as her fingers braced Buzzcunt's nethers. She shudder as they slipped through, the rarest of treats for the mare slave. But they didn't stop. Buzzcunt held her tongue as a fourth and fifth finger entered, then the palm. Tears swelled as the hand pushed deeper in, with a suppressed shriek escaping as it wiggled inside her.

Her distress emboldened the panther. She balled her hand into a fist inside the mare's cunt, as if she were throwing the slowest cervix punch. "Can you feel my elbow at the edge?" The panther asked. Buzzcunt nodded, a half lie. She certainly felt the arm, but what part of it didn't matter.

Buzzcunt cried out, earning a sadistic cackle from the panther. "Most guys I've been with would have begged me to stop after four fingers. But that's not your way, is it? No, you're like some amazonian masochist." The slave mare didn't even consider denying it. Her master had trained away any restraint from her.

"Oh, I have an idea. Why don't I drag my claws around your innards?" At that, Buzzcunt's eyes went wide. The mare turned her head as much as she was able, her peripheral gaze hoping to see a jester's grin across the pantheress. She found none but a determined smile. "Bet you'll love that. My claws scarring your insides. Some kind of permanent reminder of me. Ready?"

No. Buzzcunt felt the word on her tongue. She thought training and desire had ripped the word from her vocabulary, but the thought of her insides torn apart ripped it from the back of her mind. It, however, would not jump from her tongue, no matter how much she wished it would. "Three." The panther counted down. Buzzcunt tried to shake her head, but it froze. "Two." Her lips curled to form the word, but they would not follow. "One."

"I wouldn't." Matthew's calm voice echoed across the room. Buzzcunt's eyes looked up, forever thankful to see the coyote's passive-aggressive face wafting in the vapors of a coffee mug. He sipped from it, eyes wandering around at the state of his stable. "The healing process for such wounds would put my slave out of commission for too long. Not to mention the costs."

"Matty!" The pantheress's valley-girl squeal and choice of nickname were nails to a chalkboard for Buzzcunt. She pulled her hands out without prompt, leaving the mare blissfully empty as she hopped up to hug Matthew. The coyote didn't stop her, nor did he pay her mind as the wet arms wrapped around his waist.

"I see you decided to enjoy yourself this morning." Matthew's gaze shifted to the discarded toys along the floor, then back to Buzzcunt. His brow twitched, a seething anger slipped past his facial mask for a single moment. "I would have preferred you asked first, Maggie."

"But you looked so comfy in bed." Maggie squeezed tighter and shoved her head against the coyote's chest. "Besides, can you blame me? When you talked about owning a slave, I thought you were joking. But it got me hooked. You know what they say about curiosity and cats."

"Nothing good." By now, Buzzcunt's master had, with politeness, pushed Maggie aside. He strode around the dungeon with purpose and stopped before the splayed mare. Without prompt, Buzzcunt pressed her lips against his bare toes. A silent apology for her part in Maggie's arrogance.

Her master answered by holding his foot against her head. "Did you enjoy my slave?" He asked Maggie.

"Oh my god, yes." The panther hopped over. Matthew had allowed a few guests to partake in her, visiting from above. Never someone he brought home to fuck, and never without his permission. It brought an ugly feeling back to Buzzcunt's surface: anger.

How dare this panther treat her master like some pretty boy? Buzzcunt's nostrils flared. Maggie should be begging for forgiveness, her tongue black from licking Matthew's feet clean in apology. She caught the coyote's eyes wandering down, and calmed herself. Anger did not belong to a slave.

Fear, pain, desire. These were expected. Anger was to be trained out. Buzzcunt would gracefully accept her punishment later.

"I would hope so, since you used plenty of my toys." Matthew pointed to the discarded items across the floor. "All without my permission."

"Oh, don't be such a grumpy pants." Maggie pressed her fingers against the corners of Matthew's face and pulled to make a smile. "If it makes you feel any better, she was really good. Never seen someone so wet after taking so much pain."

"That's 'cause, as I told you, my slave is a masochist." He brushed her fingers away, "Always was, just didn't know it. It's the only thing that made Buzzcunt worth my time."

"Buzzcunt?" Maggie repeated the mare's name with confusion, turning over to glance and associate it toward her. "Is that her name?"

"Yes." He took another sip from his mug and added, "Buzzcunt is my slave's name."

"What was her name before?"

A soft, if knowing grin crossed his face, "You know, I'd be happy to tell you more about my slave. Perhaps while showing you around the farm? Buzzcunt could use the exercise." Maggie's ears perked at the suggestion. Buzzcunt bit back her own complaints. Better to keep her master happy than to worry about breakfast now. "Splendid. I'll fetch you some flipflops. Feel free to take a tool from the wall for later. I'd recommend something small, they tend to hurt more."

The panther quickly parsed through the remaining tools of torture on the walls as Matthew left. With a sadistic little grin, she picked a small leather paddle with tiny metal studs lining it.

"Oh...wait..." Pocketing the paddle, Maggie's eyes caught hold of a wide buttplug standing in the corner. Buzzcunt clenched her ass, not that it helped much.

***

The whip is a complex tool with many different designs. Buzzcunt, before she was Buzzcunt, never thought much of it. She saw it as a strip of leather. No better for use than the beasts of burden suffering from it. But those varied designs helped drive home different uses for each whip. Some were meant to simply direct with their strike, others carried the cracking sound to spark a jolt of adrenaline right before the hit. The carriage whip, for example, had a snap to it that the untrained ear would miss.

Buzzcunt was familiar with it, as Maggie loved to check whenever she snapped it across the mare's back. With harness straps digging into her frame, Buzzcunt pulled along the two person carriage through the gravel roads of her master's farm, the wide plug in his ass making itself well known with each step. Enthusiastic with her toy, Maggie had to be told, politely, by Matthew that the whip was a signaling instrument when Buzzcunt pulled. To whip freely would confuse his slave, and Buzzcunt would have agreed if she had the permission to speak.

The leather bit between her teeth was just to make her sound less like a person.

"So she owns all of this?" Maggie asked, wonderstruck by the outstretched farmland.

"No." Matthew corrected. "I own all of this, as I own my slave. It was the terms of our contract that I was to be handed everything in their ownership. Buzzcunt, being a useless trust fund brat, had plenty of money but no practical use for it. Aside from selfish glamor."

"Everything?" The panther repeated.

"Everything." Buzzcunt didn't turn around, but she imagined her master nodded in his response. "Even their name, which I had taken the liberty of striking from the record. You would be hard pressed to find a picture of my slave before she fell into my ownership."

"Wow...that's a little extreme." Maggie's tone did not carry sympathy. Curiosity felt more accurate. "Why'd you go that far?"

"Because my slave desired it, even if my slave did not say it." Buzzcunt's spine tingled at the memory. She had seen her master burn the documents before her, precious information she had given knowing full well what he intended. A normal person would have cursed his name, cried, or even begged him to stop. Buzzcunt felt the oddest sense of relief when it happened. By then, she had accepted she wasn't normal. "And, besides, it was for the best. If you knew my slave before, you would find them intolerable."

"Oh?" Maggie purred, "And why's that, Matty?" Again, she used that accursed nickname. Buzzcunt huffed, her ears flared, but she focused that newfound energy into her labor.

"The mare that my slave was, was pathetic." He held no callous or judgment in his voice. Matthew spoke as if he were stating facts. "My slave had no career, no aspirations. My slave simply coasted off of generational wealth, with nights filled with debauchery from strangers. Worst of all, my slave felt no shame from it. An unearned sense of superiority filled every word my slave spoke. Mind you, I did not know this one before our first night. The mare I met was simply an annoying but attractive distraction."

The reins grew taut at his command to stop. With her blinders, Buzzcunt had to turn her head to see the open clearing with a tall oak tree off the road. "Why don't we continue last night's entertainment?" The coyote asked Maggie. The panther's purr scratched against Buzzcunt's ears. Jealousy flared again.

Matthew directed Buzzcunt to bring them closer to the tree, then helped Maggie out like a gentleman. The panther moved to kiss him, but he stopped her short with his hand on her chest and a small smile. "Stand under the branch," He ordered with a soft whisper, removing her from the spare bathrobe. She moved with a brisk step, standing excited underneath the nearest branch.

The coyote carried a ballgag, a coil of rope, and a stool with him. Buzzcunt's teeth gnawed into her leather bit as the two kissed underneath the tree. Her master's tongue explored the pather's maw as he caressed her neck. He plopped the purple ballgag into her mouth as they broke apart, hushing her with a smile. "Now's the fun part." Maggie nodded, her gag too wide for a smile. He clamped it tight around her head.

Next came her master's ropework. Buzzcunt had long missed the dedicated bindings of his craft. She only wore harnesses, with leather straps or chains to better bind her. Something as divine as rope was too special. Maggie's arms and elbows were bound behind her. He had her stand atop the stool before throwing the rope over the branch and hoisting her up. The panther huffed into her gag. Buzzcunt's own limbs yearned for what Maggie must have felt.

After he secured the tie around the base of the tree, Matthew stood in front of the bound pantheress with a soft grin. In one hand, he held her by the chin and asked, "Comfy, Maggie?" She nodded. "Good."

He kicked the stool away.

Maggie cried into her gag as gravity pulled her down. The panther caught herself by her toes. Pain and confusion warped her face, while Matthew's returned to the familiar stoicism that Buzzcunt loved.

"I host many guests." Matthew strode back to the carriage and grabbed the small paddle Maggie had picked out. "And, as a host, I have expectations of my guests. A sense of politeness. Those that don't live up to my standards are simply not reinvited. Rude guests, however, I can't stand."

The paddle braced against Maggie's backside. He rubbed slow and steady across it. Buzzcunt's ass clenched in the knowledge of what was to come. "For starters, I hate nicknames." The paddle pulled back and cracked down in one swift motion. Maggie screamed into her gag, and Buzzcunt's ears flattened. Her master held nothing back. "I never said you could call me 'Matty'." Another strike, opposite cheek, "In fact, I told you last night to stop. Yet here," He struck, right cheek, "You," Left cheek, "Are." Right cheek.

Maggie's bindings made any attempts to run a simple sway. She bobbed her head in pain. Buzzcunt's anger had become envy, she longed for her master's talented hit. He listed the panther's every failing with a strike from the studded paddle. From her going downstairs without his permission, the mess she made of all his toys, and finally, touching his property. "If you had asked for permission, I would have given it. But you believed it was better to ask for forgiveness. I do not forgive."

Tears drenched Maggie's cheeks. Buzzcunt would have done anything to be in her position. The bruises and red marks across her ass were to die for. Her master agreed, his cock stood erect behind her. Steadying himself by the ropes, he lined his dick against her slit. He chuckled, "Seems you've not only got some sadistic tendencies." The coyote dragged his rode against her cunt. Buzzcunt heard the moist desire rubbing against him, as well as the panther's pained and pleasured moans. Matthew pulled her by the back of the head. "Last night I gave you my dick as a privilege. Today, you'll have to earn it."

To Buzzcunt's relief, he did not fuck Maggie before her eyes. Not yet, at least. Her master relieved the panther of gravity's punishment, but kept her bound and gagged as he released Buzzcunt from the carriage. The free rope from the panther was looped between her legs and tied to the back of Buzzcunt's collar. She squealed as he attached jingling weights to her nipples.

A riding crop slapped across the mare's backside. "To the house!" Matthew ordered, "This slut has a basement to clean." Buzzcunt marched, the jingle of Maggie's bells and the frustration of her grunts were music to the mare's ears.