Your heart was a yellow-bellied coward; only your ribcage kept it from slithering out of your chest. Here you were, at the precipice of something you didn’t truly understand. If you wanted you could turn around and walk away. You could leave right now, just walk away. Turn around, and walk away. Why the fuck aren’t you walking away? Your hand raised, by the gods why was it raising, and knocked on the door to Celeste’s room. Once, twice, thrice, came the knocks. No response from the door, the silence alerting you that nothing inside stirred. You count your lucky stars again and again, glad you didn’t have to have this awkward conversation with your professor. Creeeeak. Gods. Fucking. Damnit. Frozen, you peek over your shoulder at the entrance to the door. There stood your target, Celeste, aka Professor Wenham. You swallowed the lump that was trying to form in your throat before straightening out and facing the seal girl. She was dressed in a nightgown, some black lacy thing. Her hair was down, the blond locks flowing in its usual angelic manner about her face. She smiled, a wry and almost confused look that didn’t quite match her eyes. They seemed frenetic and energized, as if she was excited to see you interrupt her sleep. “Fancy meeting you here at this hour.” She said quietly. “I could almost say the same thing, if this wasn’t your dorm room.” You replied. “Hmph, so you could. Obviously, you’ve got something on your mind, out with it.” She was not one for idle chit-chat, you noted. Silence fell between the two of you, blanketing the quiet creaking of the hall. ‘This is your chance to book it, just apologize for disturbing her and leave!’ Your brain screamed. “So…I’ve been getting some…signals from Cleo…” ‘YOU FUCKING IDIOT’ That clearly got Celeste’s attention, as her wry smile shifted into an interested one. “Ah, so you came to me for advice on love and lovemaking, and I am the perfect teacher of such things.” Without further interaction, she stepped back into her room, leaving her door open. Gulping, you follow her in, closing the door behind you. The smell of sex was the first thing that blasted you when you stepped through, that sweaty, musky odor that permeated the place. It was almost gag-inducing, if you hadn’t known what it was. The walls were covered in candles, casting a warm glow about the place. Honestly you didn’t really know what to expect from such a person as Celeste. Books adorned shelves, lush rugs covered the floor, and the dim glow of the candles cast twisting and angular shadows across the room. But despite being positioned like a centerpiece, the bed was the last thing you noticed about the room. It was a four poster, simple with white sheets. But it was what lay on the bed that made you stop. Brooke, that other seal girl, lay on the bed, arms tied together and legs splayed with a spreader bar, leaving her bare and presenting. Apparently, she was trying to cover herself with her tail, given its twiching and flexing, but it remained lashed up. You feel your eyes widen as you notice the even finer details of Brooke’s situation. Both her holes had been plugged with vibrators, and by the very fine whirring that buzzed through the air, both were active. It was hard not to keep looking, and you acutely aware of how soaked the sheets under her were. “A-am I interrupting something? Sh-should I leave?” You ask, eyes wider than saucers. “Absolutely not, you’re perfectly fine, dear. In fact, please, take a seat.” Celeste purred, grinning widely. Motioning you to sit in one of the 2 lounge chairs that sat in the corner, Celeste glided over to the bed, and began untying the bound seal. Numbly, you sat, wondering if you hadn’t hit your head on the doorway and were hallucinating things. You heard her whisper a few things to Brooke before patting her rump and walking away. It appeared to be simply another day for Celeste as she sat, relaxed and poised; a queen in her castle. You watched as Brooke stiffly and shakily got up, and with trembling legs, crossed the room, and opened the wardrobe. From it she selected an oversized hoodie and donned some panties before she promptly turned and walked out the door. “So…like what you see?” Celeste asked, a sly grin spreading across her face. “I mean…I can’t lie and say I don’t but Cleo…” You trail off. “Hmm, I think she would be fine with you seeing a little something here and there if it meant you being an active participant in her fetish.” You’re caught. “…Good point.” She was right, Cleo wasn’t exactly the most possessive person on the planet. “Then I think it necessary we ask her right now.” Celeste said, leaning back in her chair. You blink. Cleo was asleep, wasn’t she? As if to answer your question the door creaked open, revealing Brooke and a newcomer. You knew it was her from the familiar sound of her footsteps but your heart caught in your throat when you saw Cleo’s face. As if she had caught you in an act of infidelity. There was an awkward silence between the four of you, no one wanting to make a move. Cleo looked nervous, honestly who wouldn’t in this scenario? You noted that her hair had been done differently, the ashen red waves cast to the side, rather than in her classic wild and unkempt look. You thought the change was good, but you didn’t comment. Was she ready for this, pre-planning with Celeste and Brooke? Nah, that’s impossible. “H-hi, Anson…” She squeaked. A sharp SLAP rang out through the room, and despite her thick fur, Cleo let out a yelp of pain. “Tsk tsk tsk,” Celeste chided, grinning slyly. “When you’re in here, you address Anson as ‘master’ and me as ‘mistress’. Understood?” “Y-yes, mistress.” “Good. Now get over here and sit down on that cushion next to Anson, you 've got a lot to learn.” Cleo gave you a nervous look, one you returned in full, but she was obedient in sitting down next to the chair. Almost instinctively you put your hand on her head, causing Cleo to flinch slightly. Your heart clenched, but she relaxed, allowing your hand to rest on the top of her head. It was weird, you knew, but it felt…natural. Like it was supposed to be there. Slowly, you began scratching. Just behind the ears. Small circles with your fingers, slow and methodical. Every so often you’d switch ears, making sure to give both equal attention. Searching for that soft spot you knew she would have. When she let out a small, almost inaudible sigh you knew you know you had found her weak point. Under her left ear, right where it connected to the head. Cleo leaned into your hand subtly, letting you really get to work on that one spot. The way she closed her eyes and almost melted into your hands was a sight that made your heart pulse with love. That lump in your throat returned, but oddly enough, it wasn’t because of something bad. It was just you and her. Nothing else in the world mattered, or would matter. Alone with nothing between you. At least until you heard the cooing from beside you. Cutting your eyes, you spied Celeste and Brooke, both watching you with eyes wide and faces twitching with amusement. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just that watching newbies go at it is just precious!” Celeste tittered. “Gods, that reminds me of our first session,” Brooke said. “I remember it like it was yesterday.” “Speaking of sessions, we have a bit of a lesson for you and Anson.” Celeste said. “What should we start with…?” She pondered. Brooke smiled, a mischievous grin that worried you. “Obviously we should start with collaring, mistress.” With a small motion of her hand she attracted your eyes toward her collar, a simple thing, made from leather. It held a simple green gem as a pendant, the leather itself dyed black. At that, Celeste’s eyes lit up. “Ah, perfect! Something that they can both work on and can be used to tie into other lessons. As always, you do not disappoint, Brooky.” The two rose in sync, mistress and pet, and crossed the room, over to an alcove that opened out into a window. Brooke turned and silently waved you over, an excited smile on her face. You and Cleo exchanged a look before getting up and following. You noticed out of the corner of your eye, that rather than walk in step with you, Cleo hung back, just 1 pace behind you. Was it nerves, or was she already getting into the roleplay? You honestly didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. When you approached, you caught a glimpse of what was inside the alcove. A dresser, the top drawer open, sat inside. Within the top drawer lay an assortment of collars, different colors, with different pendants and inlays. While Brooke rummaged through the drawer, Celeste turned to you, hands on hips. “So! It looks like we’ve gotten over the super initial nerves and are finally ready to move on to the next stage: collaring!” Cleo gave you another nervous look, one that Celeste didn’t seem to notice. “Collaring is something that most couples regard as the ‘icebreaker’ moment of the relationship. Sure petting and a little dom/sub stuff is experimented with, but when you put the collar on, it's like…proposing for marriage. Cleo seemed taken aback by that, a severely anxious look crossing her face. Not really knowing what to say, you wrap your arm around her and pull her close. “Are you sure you wanna go through with this?” You ask, almost a whisper. Tentatively, she nodded. Brooke, seeing her chance decided to step in and hold up her hands to show off a worryingly impressive array of collars. Most were leather, but there were a few cloth ones mixed in the pile. “So…which one?” Cleo reached out for a simple red and black dog’s collar, but you shook your head. Too edgy. Blue with white stripes? No, you don’t like stripes on clothing too much. Gold? Too loud. But one caught your eye. A gray collar, studded with a few black gems. You grabbed it, looking it over. Neutral, but somewhat flashy. Leather, but so soft it felt like cloth, with a cushy inlay to keep her neck from chafing. Not hesitating, you motion for Cleo to lift her chin. She was obviously a good girl, and did so without a second thought. It was a simple belt style lock function, so you slipped it around her neck and closed the clasp. It hung loosely, but just tight enough to remind her it was there. “How does it look?” She asked, a worried smile shining through her nervous mask. “Perfection.” She grinned, the nerves seemingly melting away. “I’m glad you love it…master.” Your heart suddenly ached, as if a hot chain had wrapped around it. The way she said ‘master’ send you into a miniature frenzy mentally. Your thoughts raced, and your heart rate spiked hard. You had to take a deep breath to steady yourself before you passed out. “You guys ready for the next step?” Celeste chimed in, happily. “Yes, I think we are.” You say, still looking at Cleo. She nodded slightly, reassuring you of her commitment. You loved that about her. Sometimes she was a nervous butterfly, but when she was with you, she was nothing short of a goddess. Confident, classy, beautiful, she was everything to you. You wanted to make this perfect for her, no matter what. And perfect isn’t rushing into things. Despite your hesitations, you managed to avoid trembling like a leaf when Celeste and Brooke pulled you back into the sitting room and pushed you back into the chair. There was Celeste had adopted a strange look, one of a predatory glean, as if she was finally getting to eat the pray she had been eying. Hopefully that prey wasn’t you. “So, we have a lesson in order,” She said, still smiling. “About the nature of the relationship between the dom and the sub.” She paused, crossing the room. She gave Cleo a grin, and you protectively put your hand on her head. ‘Mine.’ She smiled again, this time at you. She was playing with you. Your faces twitches in annoyance, but you keep your thoughts to yourself. It's easy enough, especially when she begins talking. “Most people think that the dom has all the power in a relationship like this one. But in actuality, its quite the opposite. The sub sets the limits, defines how far they can go, how broken they are willing to become. You will find out the nature of this relationship first hand.” She explained. “There are a few exercises that I like to use to teach newbies the fundamentals. They are called poses, or postures. Think of them as confidence builders, tools that you can use to refine the relationship between yourselves. Understand?” It was a lot of information but you and Cleo both nodded. “Good. Brooke, over here. Now.” At the harsh bark, the dark seal jumped to her feet and raced to Celeste’s side, her body already trembling with excitement. Celeste reached up and tapped her on the head twice, the pointed down. With a practiced grace Brooke was on all fours like a common dog, looking up at her mistress with wide eyes. “Good girl. This is the neutral sitting position for a pet. And no, don’t worry, despite our digitigrade legs, it's not uncomfortable. Unless my Brookie has been lying to me…” Celeste said, dangerously. “Mistress! I would never!” Brooke said, somewhat hurt. “I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” “Its FINE, mistress, besides, we’ve got two eager students. Don’t sulk in front of them. Brooke chided. For a sub she had a bit of a mouth. “Oh, fine, but you’re getting some extra spankings for that attitude, missy.” Brooke smiled. “Who said I didn’t want them?” Celeste rolled her eyes at that before continuing. “Ok, the command for ‘sit’ is two taps on the head followed by a pointing down. Quick, easy, and pets love it. The next pose is a bit more complex, but it’s well worth it.” Celeste said, tapping Brooke twice right on the solar plexus. Without delay, Brooke let her legs fall out from under her and to the sides, doing a split. You gave Cleo a look. ‘Can you do that?’ Which she followed up with an eye roll. ‘That’s an extra spanking.’ You thought. “Now this next pose is…” Celeste and Brooke had gone through every pose with you, about 10 in total. Cleo had gotten into it and had begun working the poses herself, trying her best to emulate Brooke. She could get about 5 of them, but needed a lot of help with the others. Her balance was good, but she simply needed more time to get the proper form. The way her face got red when she was embarrassed but determined was the most adorable thing in the world. Currently, you were practicing one of the most complex poses with her while Celeste and Brooke were having some fun of their own. Brooke’s moans started drowning out your verbal commands so you decided to switch to hand commands. The lighter seal had apparently had enough fun for the day teaching you and was now ‘punishing’ Brooke. You didn’t know someone could cum just from being spanked. Interesting. Though now, she had long moved on and was for lack of a better word, fucking Brooke’s brains out with a strap-on. It was quite impressive really, how long she was holding out against that monstrous thing. You had to stop and admire her strength for that. Cleo however, was getting…antsy. Despite wearing dark black panties, you could already see a massive wet spot forming in her crotch. You had to remove her hand from her underwear multiple time during the hour. She was up to about 15 spanks now, not that you would give up that information. “M-master?” She squeaked out, her voice trembling. With fear or excitement, you couldn’t tell. “Yes, p…Cleo?” You answer. Truth be told you weren’t exactly comfortable calling her pet yet, despite your eagerness before. It felt off, somehow. You swallow your guilt as Cleo’s smile fades slightly, but it brightens in a flash, so quick you might have not even noticed it was gone in the first place. “I…I’m…” She trailed off, embarrassed. “I need you too…” You got the point, or at least you think you did. With all the strength you had, you scooped up Cleo and carried her to the bed. (Gods bless you did the heavy lifting on the farm.) Placing her down next to the currently occupied Brooke, you gave 1 command: “Bloom.” Cleo reacted instantly, opening her legs and spreading them wide while she lay on her back. With one hand she spread herself. It was a shameless pose, as Cleo’s everything was on display. You’d seen her naked before, but this? This was something else. You had never experienced Cleo giving you the reigns to sex before. Your heart thudded in your chest, your ribs felt tight again. My Gods was this performance anxiety? You’ve had sex with her before! What are you doing? Wake up! And wake up you did. But instead of ripping off your pants you leaned over, taking both of Cleo’s legs and putting them on your shoulders. You could feel her shudder as you breathed against her entrance. There was no anticipation from you, and you dove in. You tongue plunged in with reckless abandon, searching her inner depths. You could feel her twitch and twist in your grip, and you could hear her cute moans as you teased and tasted her flower. The smell was intoxicating, the musky aroma of sex kept your nose clogged, and only got thicker as time passed. You tongue hits every inch of her inner walls, tasting her salty juices. Every ministration causing quakes and shakes within her, her insides pulsing around your tongue, forcing you deeper. And deeper you went. Deeper and deeper you foraged into her, brushing every spot you could find with your tongue. Her salty, sticky, juices leaked everywhere, dribbling down your chin and onto the mattress. You could feel her getting close around you, her legs twitching and clenching, her moans becoming shallower and shallower, grabbing the sheets, and when she was right. On. The. Edge. You stop. Her whole body trembled with the echoes of your betrayal, her thighs wrapping around your head and squeezing. Cleo let out a long sigh, filled with disappointment. “M-master, what was that?” She gasped, her body still recovering from the almost orgasm. “Part of your punishment.” You answer simply. “Remember when you were trying to pleasure yourself during the pose exercises?” Cleo’s face melted. She remembered. She definitely remembered. She didn’t even complain, simply nodded her head in acceptance. What a good girl. You lean into her ear, giving her a light peck on the neck. “Do you think you deserve to cum?” She nodded. “Do you really?” You asked, a sly smile on your lips. This time, she shook her head. “Why?” You asked. “…Cause I’ve been naughty.” She whispered. “Excellent answer. Let’s begin again.” You started again, this time diving in as deep as you can in a single lunge. Instantaneously she reacted, her body still sensitive from earlier. Cleo writhed under your efforts, moan after moan escaping her lips. She could barely control herself, her thighs tight around your head. This time you gave her clit more attention, rubbing it with your lips and sliding your tongue all around the love button. You hoped this room was covered with a soundproofing ward because Cleo couldn’t help but let out a cry of pleasure. Her juices were spilling at an all-time high; the mattress under you was completely soaked. You could feel her clenching around you, another orgasm on the horizon. You picked up the effort, digging deep into her hole. Every lick sent her to the moon, her back arching and tail whipping back and forth, dangerously close to hitting you. The second attempt brought her closer to the edge faster, your efforts paying off. But it was not to be. When she started begging to cum, you stopped, squeezing out of the vice lock of her thighs and stepping back to observe the damage. Cleo lay on the bed, shaking and quavering. Her eyes had a somewhat glazed look, and her hair was frazzled. Her hands were dug in the sheets, desperately fighting off the instinct to finish herself off. Good girl. She was desperate, desperate for an orgasm, desperate to get intimate, desperate for…you. You had her right where you wanted. He had you right where he wanted, and you knew it. You weren’t in heat, but Gods above it felt like you were. Mere nanoseconds from two orgasms, both stolen away, your body ached for more. You wanted him, wanted him to pin you down and make you his bitch. Your heart couldn’t stop beating in your chest, the sound of blood pumping in your ears was deafening. That smile, that damned smile making you shiver in your fur, the smell of sex and love, the feeling of his smooth skin against your fur. It was almost too much. You swore you had passed out twice during those sessions. He knew your weak points, every one of them, and he attacked them viciously, making you squirm and squeal under him. It was bliss, moments and moments of bliss before he stopped his eating and left you hanging on a string. You could feel Celeste’s and Brooke’s eyes on you, watching you as you let Anson turn your mind to mush with nothing more than his tongue. If you had any shame left you would have covered your face, but you didn’t care anymore. You could feel Anson lining himself up as your entrance, and vaguely heard him asking if it was okay. You nodded numbly; you didn’t care anymore, you wanted him, you wanted him so badly. A sudden shock of pleasure ran through your body; he was in. A moan fell out of your mouth, and your entire body shook with the electric feeling. You felt everything, every vein, bump and ridge on him as he slowly pulled out, before driving home again. “FUCK~!” Came your voice, strangled and staccato. His strong arms on your body kept you pinned, not like you wanted to go everywhere, as he slowly increased the pace. You could hear him moaning your name somewhere in the distance, and you could smell his sweat and musk, pheromones of a strapping male. Everything seemed out of focus, like it was spinning. You loved it, and let yourself go, no longer trying to hold back anything. He kept thrusting, and you came hard, wriggling under his grip. You couldn’t tell if he noticed or not, because he kept going. The waves of the first orgasm kept crashing through you, sending your head into orbit. You weren’t aware of anything but you and Anson, not even the bed you lay on, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Brooke, who was similarly pinned, extending a hand. You clasped it, looking for purchase in this sea of pleasure you were drowning in. You were vaguely aware that he was barebacked and a flash of panic ran through you. What if he knocked you up!? The thought was there, but a second orgasm hit, a rolling thunderclap, and you clamped down on Brooke’s hand. Anson’s name came out in the moan that followed, a word filled with love and desire. That seemed to set him over the edge, and he hilted himself inside you, rope after rope of thick, hot cum splattering your insides.