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Conn kept his hands firmly stuck in his pockets as his runners slapped the pavement. It was a busy evening in the neighbourhood; kids running back and forth with water-guns, playing ball in the street; teens loitering on the corners or hanging around on the garden lawns with music playing through the open windows of their homes. It was a warm evening, the smell of summer in the air.

And Conn didn't appreciate the damned scent at all; this was his third attempt to make the half-hour walk to Cleo's house.

Cleo was a babysitter he had been forced to endure the previous night. She didn't exactly put him to bed, or make his meals. She was just there as insurance to make sure the house didn't burn down. Conn's history of house parties had not done him any justice when he had begged his aunt to leave the house all to himself when she went on her business trip. And now, he had another night without his aunt. She must have contacted Cleo again, because she was to keep an eye on him. But instead of chilling out at home, Cleo hadn't bothered to show up and had called him, ordering him to come over so she could watch him...

It was insulting, it was scandalous; twice now Conn had started walking in the direction of her address and turned back, fuming. How dare she threaten him? Just what could she do? She couldn't exactly complain to his aunt that he had refused to leave his home, when she was supposed to be watching the house.

So why was he walking over now?

Well...

She was...

It was...

Cleo was goddamn terrifying! She was a dark furred wolfess with icy eyes that still managed to be fiery with a rage fuelled hunger. Conn got the feeling she liked rules. She didn't hesitate when she ordered him to clean up after himself, plus she was very smart when it came to the social fabric of the school. She gave him great tips on how to deal with his ex; he had made her look like a fool in class and was now pretty sure his ex was stressing over him.

So, did he owe Cleo one?

Was he just terrified? Meh, it was probably both.

So off he trotted.

He arrived just as the sunset reached the horizon, lighting up the sky in streaks of red. Cleo's house was huge. A sleek and modern wonder home built on a hill that overlooked the neighbourhood. There were a few other houses along the hillside, their long driveways stocked with sleek family sedans and sports cars. It had taken Conn only twenty-five minutes to reach the neighbourhood but another twenty to ascend the hill. He stepped off the road and onto the start of Cleo's driveway, where one of two wrought-iron gates was ajar.

Oh god was this a trick? Was he walking into some stranger's home? Cleo did kinda seem like the sort to find a cruel joke hilariously funny. He was just about to turn around when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"I see you," said Cleo's chilling, harsh and husky voice. Even through the phone, her deep voice sounded like she had been drinking and screaming all night before. Conn wouldn't have admitted it but he found it quite sexy.

He shut the phone and stepped through the gap in the gates, walking gingerly up the paved driveway. To his relief he spotted a figure leaning against the open front doorway, her arms were crossed and her big tail was swishing back and forth.

"You're late," Cleo growled, stepping inside as he approached. It looked like she was about to slam the door in his face so he quickly rushed through the threshold. The front hall was gorgeous; lightly stained wood-flooring, white carpets and a great staircase that lead up the left wall. Paintings of landscapes decorated the walls; of course Conn didn't give two tail-swipes about art. He was looking at Cleo. She definitely had not looked this amazing last night.

She wore tight black leather shorts, with a solid silver buckle; that and a purple latex jacket that clung tightly to her arms, shoulders and her back. It seemed to have no front, leaving the chest completely exposed were she not wearing a grey sleeveless top underneath... Stencilled in black were the words Rogue Bitch, something she seemed all too pleased to advertise. Her dark navy fur was complemented by the icy bright blue splotches of fur on her thighs and neck, a few spots under her right eye. Her lengthy hair fluffed up on top, almost reaching as high as her pointed ears. The back was once again pulled into a pony tail. She also had laced streaks of her hair with purple highlights; Conn thought he'd be polite.

"Hey, I like the hair."

"Yeah," Cleo drawled sarcastically, "I live my life only to impress you." Conn felt silent, hurt. "I was only..."

"Shut up," she said simply. She turned around, hitting him in the face with her fluffy tail and started walking into the den. Conn followed carefully. He wondered just exactly what was going to happen.

Inside the den were several guests, seated around a bronze coffee table on fine white leather couches. Conn had to do a double take; a first glance it seemed like a quiet, friendly social gathering, four boys and four girls, not including Cleo. But how of them were sitting... where they were sitting... was bizarre.

Three of the boys lounging on the couches with drinks in their hands were big, muscly jock-clichés, chuckling at the each other's jokes. A wolf, a fox and a bull dressed in smart unbuttoned shirts and sleek, crisp pants. The fourth guest, a girl sitting across from them was a lynx, a lithe tomboy that dressed similarly like Cleo. They all seemed to be having a great time, but the rest of the guests...

The other three girls and a boy were kneeling on the white shag carpet, each one at the foot of the fox, bull, wolf and lynx, as if they were partnered up. Kneeling by the bull was a vixen, her chin tucking into her chest and eyes shut. The big buff wolf had a boy, a black tiger like Conn sitting up against his legs, his head resting on the wolf's knees. At the fox's heel was a rabbit, her ears pinned back. Conn blushed when he saw she was only in her underwear, a collar clasped to her neck with a leash held tightly by the fox. The lynx had a girl at her heel, another vixen with her head on her lap. The lynx was curling a claw in her vixen's brunette curls.

When the black tiger entered, the room fell silent. Those seated on the couch were looking at Conn with interest, the big chocolate-furred wolf looking at him a little more closely than the others. Those seated on the ground were much more subtle, not moving an inch but straining to watch him; the bull's vixen kept her head down but opened her eye a fraction. Conn thought he knew the vixen. He had definitely seen her around somewhere.

But here and now, he felt like a deer in headlights. He was trying not blush, or fart or do anything to draw attention; his face was probably scrunched up in a ridiculous expression of concentration. Cleo took a seat next the lynx and stretched out to make herself comfy.

"Ahhhh," she groaned, her husky voice carried around the room. "Sorry about the interruption. Where were we?" The bull leaned forward, bringing a big meaty paw down to stroke his vixen's head, right between the ears.

"I was on about the time that guy in the club tried to steal my girl, here."

"You never stop telling that story," the lynx purred, sipping down the last dregs of her drink, still clawing at her girl's hair. "It's a good story!" the bull protested with laughter. They broke into cheerful argument while Conn stood there in the doorway, looking foolish. Was he supposed to sit down? Was he supposed to sit on the floor and earn a place on the couch, maybe?

The lynx leaned over to whisper something in Cleo's ear and the wolfess nodded, her purple streaked hair bouncing with each incline of her head.

"Conn, get Tani a drink," she ordered, taking the lynx's empty glass and handing it to him. She spoke with same authority he had heard the previous night. The tone that sounded as if it was a fact: You are doing this and you are doing this now. And yet again, Conn was too afraid to refuse, fearing the consequences.

"Um," he stepped over to the couch, aware that the males were looking at him with amusement. "What do you want?" he asked, dumbly.

"I want you to get her a drink," Cleo snapped. Conn flushed, sure that she knew exactly what he meant and was screwing with him. He instead directed the question at the lynx, Tani. "I mean, what are you drinking?" The lynx smirked, but she didn't look half as terrifying as Cleo.

"Vodka with coke, don't skimp on the alcohol of course." She said softly with a charming smile. Conn kind of liked her. She was cute, yellowy golden fur, short hair with black streaked through it. It fell across her golden eyes, as if trying to hide them. He turned away briskly and made his way to the kitchen.

"Good boy," Cleo called back. Conn felt a little shiver down his spine.

It was a charming room, dark mahogany cupboards and black shiny granite counter tops. Conn had been expected heaps of bottles of cheap beer, like what stocked the kitchen in most high school parties. But there were fine clear bottles of pretty and colourful liquids, cans of cola and soft drinks as mixers for the spirits.

He was no stranger to alcohol and popped the plastic top off each bottle, sniffing for a familiar scent. Once his found the peppery, stinging smell of vodka he filled a fraction of Tani's glass and added a can of cola, plopping in two ice-cubes from a pile melting in the sink. When he returned to the den, he handed the drink over.

Tani looked at it, examining for fault and sipped at it, smiling widely. "Mmm, superb."

Conn didn't know why he felt so relieved. Maybe now he could take a seat-

"I'll have one too," Cleo ordered suddenly, not even bothering to look at him.

"Yeah, and can I get two shots of whiskey? There's a bottle of Jack in the fridge," the bull called out, happily. Conn was completely taken aback and waited for Cleo to say something.

However, she seemed to waiting for her drink. "Are you going?"

Something clicked in Conn's head; suddenly he was furious and wasted no time stepping to the side of the couch, into Cleo's line of sight. "Did you order me over here to serve drinks?"

Cleo looked amused and looked up at him lazily. "Duh..." The others laughed a little and Conn flushed, his whiskers twitching in anger.

"Well you can fuck right off," he snapped, crossing his arms. At once he wished he had immediately turned and made his exit; no one seemed to be laughing and Cleo was staring at him with her icy penetrative eyes. One blue, one yellow. Suddenly she was up on her feet, toe to toe with him and hissing in his face.

"Get in there, get a Black Russian and two shots of whiskey and anything else we want, now!" Despite her voice dripping with authority, it was less confident than before. She. Was. Pissed. Conn felt he had crossed a line; well if this was the time to test what happened if you disobeyed Cleo the wolfess, so be it.

"Cleo, you can't just order me around, so go fuck yourself," Conn said with a huff. Cleo shook from head to toe, looking like a volcano ready to burst. The little black tiger actually waited for some sort of strike, but instead Cleo just sighed deeply and calmed down.

"Go in to the kitchen," she said after a moment of silence, "and get our drinks, or Rebecca here will destroy you." She gestured to the vixen at the bull's heel. The bull seemed to nod to Cleo, as if saying "by all means." Now Conn knew where he recognised the vixen. Rebecca Milano was a girl in the year ahead of him; she went to his school. But, she was no fighter. How was she going to destroy him?

Cleo sensed his confusion and elaborated, "Rebecca will tell everyone and anyone she can, that she found you sniffing her underwear and raiding her closet for clothing after sneaking into her bedroom." Conn's jaw dropped and he looked at the vixen. She had a guilty expression and she looked up at the bull who nodded, "Do what Cleo asks of you."

"Yes master," she muttered, and tucked her chin back into her chest, looking down at the ground. Conn's heart was beating in his chest. A perverted rumour like that would spread like wildfire. Gossip was gospel as his school; he'd be ruined. Blaine and his newfound friends would abandon him, he would never win back Kate. How could this bitch do something like this to him? He rounded on the wolfess yet again, but was unable to speak. He was to shocked.

"So..." Cleo said, smugly.

"You. You can't."

"I can indeed."

Conn was getting emotional, his chest tightening, his vision blurry... there was nothing he could do as he felt his very manhood shrink when he nodded, slinking back into the kitchen. This time Cleo followed him. Out of the den, now that they were in private Conn hoped Cleo would take it all back, say this was a twisted joke! Nah...

Instead, she gripped the back of his head and smashed it down on the granite countertop. Conn screeched, blinded by stars in his eyes. She had him pinned down against the counter, he couldn't move. Cleo drew close to his ear, her voice shaking with fury.

"You ever embarrass me in front of my friends like that, I'll cut your FUCKING balls off, understand," she hissed with such a deep resounding hatred, that Conn thought he would pee himself. Still he managed to put together some form of protest.

"But, Cleo you can't do this. You're... if my aunt finds out-"

"Shut, the fuck, up," she hissed again. Cleo then kicked his feet out from under him and let him fall to floor with a smack. He yelped and curled up into a ball, crying silently. She left him there, returning to her guests. It felt like he was on the floor for hours.

Could he call the cops? His aunt? Maybe start a rumour to counter the other one? Strike first. Yes, that's it! Rebecca Milano has some sadist bull as a master.

A master.

Conn picked himself up, sniffling. Master; wasn't that a domination/submission term? BDSM? He knew a little about it; Kate had often talked his ear off about the novel Fifty Shades of Grey, boasting about how the book "spoke to her" and how she understood the deep subtle contexts. Bullshit.

He found the bottle of Jack Daniels, poured two small glasses of the amber liquid and went back out into the den. Once back inside, it was all clear. They were masters! All of the big alpha dogs seated on the couch were the dominants; the quiet little tiny teens were submissives, slaves or pets or whatever! Was this some sort of giant rampant sex party ready to go off? Was it some initiation?

He backed out of the room, going to get Cleo's drink. He was going to serve her last on purpose. Conn tried looking like he hadn't figured it out, but at the same time... they weren't exactly hiding it. One of the dominants had his girl half naked on a leash for crying out loud. They were all partnered up, except for Cleo. He wondered when her submissive would arrive, the poor bastard. What unlucky lad would... be... stuck with... her...

Conn stared at his reflection in the kitchen window as he dropped two ice cubes into the wolfess' drink. The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. Cleo's sub had already arrived...

Conn gulped as he approached the doorway to the den, keeping a paw on his wrist to stop the glass shaking. He stopped just before the alcove, listening to the conversation.

"-think he's cute."

"Roy you think everything is cute." That was the bull speaking.

"No, Roy screw's everything with a pulse, but he only thinks some are cute." That was Tani. Everyone chuckled and when the room went silent, it was Tani who spoke again.

"Look, he is pretty cute sweetie."

"I'm not interested." Conn was shocked to hear it was Cleo. Not interested it what? Him? "I'm not getting back into something like that."

"It's been a year Cleo, you gotten give your collar to someone."

"Fuck off Brian."

"Oooh, sassy," the Brian the bull laughed. "Seriously girl, you got a lotta love to give. Go for it."

"Wait if you're not interested in the kitty, why is he serving us drinks?" Conn listened hard, waiting for an answer.

"I'm just fucking with him. Had to make sure his house didn't burn down last night and got stuck with him again. Though, like you said Tani, he's pretty cute."

"You just lookin' for a release then, heheh."

"Maybe I am..."

Conn gulped, nearly spilling the drink. He straightened up and made his way inside, handing the girl her beverage. He had been a little intrigued at the idea of being Cleo's sub. Subs had sex didn't they; and he had seen enough porn to know that dominant women got pretty damn frisky, plus Cleo was hot as fuck. But was she just another hot shallow girl, stepping on a guy.

Cleo was looking at him with newfound curiosity now too. It seems her friends were getting to her. She looked to Tani and Conn was sure she mouthed the word "maybe" with a devilish sexy smile. She turned back to the little black tiger. "Go wait in the kitchen for me."

"But-"

"Go, now!"

He frowned and slunk away with his tail between his legs. When he entered the kitchen, he sat at the little dining table in the corner. Conn was careful to avoid the countertop, lest he get another face full of granite. He waited for what seemed like an hour, listening to the din of laughter from the room. And then, all of a sudden he would look up and Cleo was standing right then and there.

"Do you know what's going on there?" she asked softly.

"I can guess." Conn replied.

"Go on then."

"Well, its S&M stuff, like domination and submission, isn't it?"

Cleo nodded. "Indeed it is. Masters and mistresses hanging out and socialising with their subs."

Conn was all too aware just how much the girl seemed to be eyeing him up. "But you don't have one," he pointed out, "a pet or sub I mean."

"No..." Cleo said slowly, "but I've been open to getting another."

"Another?"

"I used to have one, but that's a story for another time." She stated plain-of-fact. Conn knew not to ask again. This close to her, by themselves. He was beginning to get drawn under her spell again. She smelled of blackberry liquor, her eyes penetrated his very thoughts, it didn't help that her cleavage was threatening to envelop him whenever she leant over his shoulder...

"But I've got my eye on you now," she said, watching him closely. Conn blushed a little. "You're kind of feisty and you follow direction well. I was quite surprised how much I enjoyed last night."

"So, you think I'm attractive?"

Cleo laughed harshly and shook her head. Conn felt hurt.

"My dear little kitten, I find you repulsive. You are not even worth, nor able to lick my boot," she spat. There was an awkward silence, then, "But I would like to see you try..."

Conn looked up sheepishly. Was that part of the whole BDSM degradation speak?

Cleo seemed to have come to a decision. "You'll be staying the night, and we'll see just what we can do together." She left Conn alone in the kitchen, adding, "And you're kinda cute," as she left.

Conn's heart was pounding in his chest. Her words echoed in his ears. He was staying the night? He was sleeping over in a girl's house. UNSUPERVISED! :D :D :D

Of course he had stayed with Kate his ex on occasion, but her Cliché Father had demanded he sleep downstairs. Conn had spent half the night waiting to see if Kate would sneak down and visit him, but alas he was left alone. After that he didn't care for the rare invites to Kate's and she stopped bothering to invite him. It was as almost if it was a burden. As the black tiger slumped into a kitchen chair, he thought hard.

It was as if a light switch had been flicked on. Suddenly he realised his whole relationship with her had been absolutely awful. She had been demanding, taking everything and anything and giving nothing back; Conn had been miserable half the time and had been too blind to realise she was the problem. He had just blamed it on puberty!

The dull chatter from the den turned sharp and clear as the conversation made its way into the atrium outside. Cleo was seeing her guests out. Conn snuck a peek from his chair, craning his neck to see through the open door.

Tani the lynx was exchanging giddy whispers with Cleo as the boys left, shouting goodbyes from the porch. Conn saw that the fox had put a bathrobe around his sub. Tani's girl was waiting patiently by her side for her mistress, then skipped outside into the night air, when they left. Cleo waved goodbye and then, the door was shut leaving Conn alone with his hostess. She did not re-enter the kitchen. Instead she barked a single order.

"Conn. Come!" She hadn't even turned around toward him.

But still the boy leapt to his feet to scurry at her side. He felt embarrassed. In the politically correct everyone-is-equal-and-can-do-anything world, men and women were equal. To say different was sexist or racist or some form of -ist. But only decades ago, the man had always been dominant, it was natural. So here, to be a submissive seemed a litte silly.

So why was he so eager, so hot under his shirt? Why was his heart threatening to break through his ribcage? He hesitated and got down on both knees, head bent low and eyes staring at the ground. Cleo turned around and laughed hard. Not all mean, but genuinely amused.

"You're eager, I'll give you that," she grinned. "But we're not "there" yet, get up."

Conn climbed to his feet, even more embarrassed.

"Desperation is one of the female's biggest turn offs," Cleo said.

"But," Conn was confused, "I thought a desperate, uh, "sub" would be more attractive. You'd feel more power? You know, if I begged, uh, desperately?" This was not a topic of conversation he was used to. His words came out with a stammer. Cleo found it cute, judging by her expression. She led him up the marble staircase against the wall, to the hallway upstairs.

"Being desperate and being eager are too very different things. Occasionally, when teased a submissive may become impatient and anxious to reach satisfaction; but desperate for attention, needy... these are things we tend to avoid. Simply put, play it cool."

She spoke the same way she had done the night before, when coaching him on how to approach Kate; like a gentle teacher coaching him, explaining to him things he did not understand. Cleo stopped outside a door at the end of the hall. It was identical to the others; white washed, smooth shiny wood. She turned to face him, placing her paws on his slender shoulders.

"I like you because you are fiery. You are a little selfish, spoilt. It will challenging to twist you into an obedient little slave in the bedroom but make sure you remain the same strong willed boy to the rest of the world." She spoke seductively, the words rolling from her lips. Conn was hanging on her every syllable.

"I'm going to teach you what it means to be dominated," she grinned. "I'm going to make you mine, kitten." She pulled a key from a brass chain in her pocket, sticking it into the lock in the door with a resounding click-clack! Conn was sweating, his fur toasty and his stomach twisted. He was also hard as a rock.

"W-w-what's this r-r-room?" It was all he could manage.

Cleo smirked and pushed open the door. "Well, you've made friends with the kitchen, the den and my room. Now it's time to get comfortable... in the playroom."