Graduation

I guess I should start off with an introduction. I'm a 26 year old Iriomote Cat.  We're pretty rare, so let me describe myself a little.  Unless you had a keen eye for spot patterns, you'd likely mistake me for a golden brown leopard.  My spots run together along my back forming vertical stripes.  I'm 5' 5" 124 pounds, and my measurements are 35C-22-35.  I have hazel eyes and my hair is platinum blonde, nearly white, which is a nice contrast to my amber colored fur.  My name is Pandora, and I am a pleasure slave.

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Today was the day. I had been at the Institute for a whole year.  It seemed like so very much longer.  Every new day here had brought a new humiliation, or a new punishment, or a new skill to learn.  So many memories, mostly bad.  It did make the time crawl.  I remember almost every day with uncanny clarity. The first few weeks were the worst, of course.  I had just been sold into slavery to pay off the enormous debts I had amassed from tying to run my own shipping company.  
Being sold wasn’t my idea certainly, but the debtors usually don’t have a lot of say when they can’t even afford their own court fees.  On the one paw, it was a strange sort of relief to be out of debt, to have no real responsibilities any more, but now I had a whole new set of problems, the least of which was that I had never really been a very sexually active person.  I wasn’t a prude, but sex was never the first thing on my mind when I was planning an evening.  I had had a pawful of one night stands, but I felt that sex was really a thing to be shared between lovers.  These days though, after what I’d been through over the last year, I was practically a nymphomaniac.  
My views on sex aside, I still had to cope with the fact that my body was no longer mine, and that decisions about it were out of my paws.  As the harsh reality of my situation bore into me the first few days after being sold, locked in my kennel, my back usually stinging from some kind of disciplinary action from earlier in the day, I cried myself to sleep almost every night for the first few weeks.  I had almost taken my life twice, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it obviously.  The first time, I just lay in my cage, staring at my wrist for a long time, my claws hovering over it.  I finally sheathed them, figuring that I could tough it out somehow.  I don’t know if it was courage or cowardice that had stayed my claws.
I swore to myself that they wouldn't break me, that I'd find a way to escape, and for a few months at least I had held out, even if just by a hair, my will just barely stronger than their punishments.  Of course this attitude got me in a lot of trouble, and every time I was disciplined, the punishments were worse and worse.  
Eventually, they decided they needed to really teach me a lesson, something much more severe than what was normally doled out.  That was the most horrible night of my life, I can’t even talk about it to anyone to this day, even the other slaves who were no stranger to discipline.  
When it was finally over, I sat in the darkness of my cage, knowing that there was no limit to how much or how hard they could punish me. The only thing I learned that night was that it was only a matter of time before I broke, and I had sworn to myself that I would rather die than let that happen.  
I popped my claws, staring at my wrist again, and before I could reconsider, tore it open.  It hurt so much that I couldn't bring myself to do the other one, and the cut was so deep that I was having trouble moving my fingers on the wounded arm.  I passed out after a few minutes, crying and defeated, but hoping to find some kind of peace. 
Much to my chagrin, I awoke in a hospital bed.  My wrist had been bandaged, and I could move my fingers, but I found I couldn’t pop my claws.  At first I thought the damage on my wrist was preventing me from extending them, but when my other hand exhibited the same results, I knew… 
I had been declawed.  
If you’re not a cat I guess it’s a little hard to explain, but a cat’s claws are like a lion’s mane of a ram’s horns.  It’s a matter of pride, and it’s an important part of what sets you apart from other species.  
When I realized what they had done, I was hit with this wave of overwhelming despair.  Something in my mind shut off, and any thought of escape or defiance just... stopped.  Whether it was the inescapability of my situation or the IV running into my arm pumping me full of who knows what, all my fire was extinguished.  The loss of my claws made me realize that I really was just an object now, that they could do absolutely anything they wanted to me and that I would never have a say.  
In a way I had split in two... there was an inside me and an outside me... The inside me was what was left of Pandora up to that point, partially trained, but hiding behind this slave version of me that I hated, retracted under a shell of obedience.  Still angry at my situation, thinking about all the things I could have been or could have done with my life, but unable to act. Afraid to rear my head and defy anyone… just so afraid of being punished, angry that these sadistic people had so much power over me.  
But then there was the outside me, the slave me, the only part of me that I dared show, even to the other slaves, that jumped to obey, not out of fear, but out of a desire to please, to garner approval.  Utterly docile and demure or randy and sexually aggressive, whatever the trainer required of me.  
The two facets of myself were so distinct in my eyes that I tried coming up with a name for my slave self, to help distinguish her from ‘Pandora’, but nothing seemed to fit.  Pandora is one of those names that doesn’t contract well, like Barbara into Barbie.  That would have been easy.  The ‘real’ me had no respect for the slave me, and I wanted an degrading name for her, like Candi or something.  For a while I considered ‘Dora’ but that name sounded like a grandmother’s name to me.  I gave up on the separate name idea after a while, but I never buried it entirely.  I just needed a name that suited me.  Or her, really.  Slave Pandora.
Oddly, this pseudo-split personality made the time go by faster, even if only by a little bit.  I would numbly obey any command given me.  It took almost a week before I could talk to the other slaves again.  I wasn't much of a conversationalist for some time afterward, either.  In fact, I had become so sedate outwardly that the instructors started punishing me for not emoting enough, during sex or in response to a Master's question.  I couldn't win for losing.  
Of course for the next few weeks after I had recovered from my injuries, I was made a prime example, showing the other slaves what happened to those that attempted the ultimate defiance.  Abused heavily during the day, usually right in front of the others, and made to do catch-up schooling during the night, sleep deprived and drugged, it made it just that much harder to bring 'old Pandora' to the surface any more.  It became difficult to even remember what the old me was really like.
Eventually, they backed off. I had become so obedient, so much like the perfect little slave they had been trying to sculpt me into that they felt there was no need to punish me further.  I was put back into the regular training regimen with the other slaves, and as I said, eventually re-schooled on how to emote and act properly.  
Now that I was broken, I was quite pliable.  Despite poor marks from the first few months, I put forth my best effort in all things, since it was the only mechanism available to a slave to avoid punishment, and I managed to graduate with high marks.
I managed to survive a year of this, and now I was graduating.  There was no ceremony; when I say ‘graduating,’ I just mean that I was now eligible for sale.  If a Master bought me, then I’d leave the Institute and start a new chapter in my life.  I was nothing but butterflies since I awoke this morning, to the point that I had to skip breakfast.  With my graduation looming, the past few weeks had me increasingly anxious about today. I wanted to leave the Institute more than anything, but I was scared to death; having a Master might be worse than being at the Institute.  The Institute at least had a vested interest in not damaging me TOO much, but besides some fairly weak laws in place to prevent owners from killing their slaves outright, they could do pretty much anything they wanted.  It just depended on the type of Master that bought me.  
It was unfair that graduating near the top of my class from the Institute didn’t really count for anything at this point.  All it meant was that I would command a slightly higher price, but it certainly didn’t guarantee that I would wind up with a good Master; it just meant that the Institute made more money off my efforts.  Almost everything about my life for the last year had been extremely unfair though.  I was used to that, but it didn't comfort me at all.
Before being put on display, we were groomed to an inch of our lives to get the stink of the kennels off of us and prettied up, as much as one can be when you're not wearing anything.  The led us into a large bare room and we were unshackled.  We weren’t sure what was going on, but no one dared ask. After a moment, one of the head guards stood up on a pedestal and spoke.
“You may speak quietly to each other for 10 minutes, then you will kneel as the director addresses you.  If anyone starts getting out of hand then this privilege will be removed.”
No one moved at first. They had never allowed us to speak out of place during the times we were being trained, or even afterwards in the baths.  Eventually one of the slaves stood timidly, ignored by the guards.  One at a time we began to rise until most of the room was on it’s feet.
A slow murmuring started in the room and soon I felt a tap on the shoulder.  I turned to see Cotton, a jackrabbit that had befriended me during our training.
“I guess this is goodbye.” She said quietly.  Even for a slave, Cotton was demure.
I nodded and hugged her. “Most likely.  I don’t think most Masters will let us visit each other or even use the phone.” I chuckled weakly.  As I was hugging her I felt another paw on me.  It was Aki, the Asian black fox, another good friend I had made at the Institute.  We pulled her into our hug and we sat quietly for a moment, then Miranda, a she-wolf joined us.
These were my three friends without whom I couldn’t have made it through the Institute alive. They had been through every class and every torture that I had, and in the evenings in the baths, without them to lean on for support, I would have had a nervous breakdown.  Some days, one of us would need more support than the others, having been forced to endure something that they found particularly distasteful.  
Of the four of us, I’d have to say that I was the weakest of the bunch.  Cotton always did as she was told, she hated being punished for any reason and would instantly capitulate to avoid correction. In fact I once heard some guards talking about the fact that she was going to be the least disciplined slave in the history of the Institute. So of course they pulled her out of her kennel and beat her and made her please them till the wee hours of the night.  
Aki seemed to be naturally submissive, and while she wasn’t as quick to jump at an order as Cotton was, she would actually get into all the mistreatment that was heaped upon her and enjoy herself despite any rough handling.  
Miranda was neither obedient or submissive, but she took a certain pride in her sexual prowess.  She was always the one who tried to excel at every class, to fit the largest dildo in her, to hold her breath the longest while felating some fur underwater or whatever.
Myself on the other hand was continually offended at all the things that we were put through, and like I’ve said, I don’t feel that I was a prude, but it was the disrespect they had for us, the fact that they treated us like objects.  If we were ever foolish enough to voice dissent or opinion, we’d be disciplined on the spot.  After I tried to kill myself, I had turned around.  I wouldn’t say that I was strong now, but I was numb to the injustices we were forced to endure day in and day out.
“Thank you for being there for me everyone.  I don’t know how I would have survived without you all.” I said quietly, looking nervously over at the guards.
We all hugged tighter. “I’m really going to miss you guys.” Miranda looked genuinely sad.
“This is almost the worst I’ve felt the whole time I’ve been here.” Aki said, sniffling. “We’re never going to see each other again.”
“Maybe one day we’ll all be free, in twenty years when our indentures have expired… after we’re old and ugly and our Masters have no more use for us. Then we can look each other up.” Cotton said weakly. 
I grinned a little. “Let’s make it a pact then. Once we’re free old crones, we’ll have a reunion okay?” I was trying to be funny, but I started crying halfway through the sentence.  The others were trying to be stoic, but I saw Miranda tearing up a little as well.
I sniffled and wiped my eyes.  “I’m going to try and say goodbye to some of the other girls, okay?”
We all nodded. Cotton spoke up as we started to part. “Lets all meet back here in a few minutes. If we’re on the buyer’s floor together, then there’s a chance some or all of us might be sold to the same brothel or something.”
We nodded to her. That wasn’t a bad idea actually.  It made me feel better that there was some chance that I might be with one of them after the Institute.
I wandered through the throng of slaves and was easily able to find Winifred. She was a tall zebra I met in the class on deepthroating.  She was a natural at it and under her tutelage I was spared a lot of gagging I’m sure.  Ever since that class I tried to partner with her whenever I could.
She saw me walking up to her and smiled.  We hugged for a moment and I said goodbye to her, and promised to look her up if I ever got freed.
Then there was Atasha the tamias. She was harder to find as she was so short but I bumped into her as she was talking to some of her friends.  For some reason whenever we were in the same class together, we always got partnered with each other, and even though sometimes that meant being tied tightly or even painfully together, or doing something that involved hurting the other one, we wound up becoming quite close with each other.  I guess that’s to be expected when two people are in intense situations together, but we found we had a lot in common during those long nights when we were bound to each other, able to do nothing but whisper in each other’s ears.
Zora was easy to find, she was a very tall puma, one of the largest girls in the graduating class.  She was slender but muscular, and probably would have made a good gladiator, but she was very pretty and young so when it was her time to be sold, she was sent to the Institute, since they paid more for good specimens like her.  There wasn’t any one particular incident that made me friends with her, but she sometimes would sit and whisper in the hottub at the end of the day with myself and Aki and the others.  She was kind of a kindred spirit, she was having a lot of trouble adapting to a servile lifestyle.  She was big and physically powerful and didn’t have any real submissive inklings in her.  I wasn’t big, but I wouldn’t consider myself a submissive either.  I found her and we hugged, my arms around her waist, my face in her cleavage and her arms around my shoulders.  We said our goodbyes and she kissed me, stroking my bangs out of my eyes.
Finally I went looking for Calypso. She was a sexy young raccoon/badger half-breed with a beautiful bushy tail.  She had literally saved my life when a particular demonstration in the ‘safety with bondage’ class had gone awry.  In case our Master had us tie other slaves up we had to know how to do it correctly, and the girl I had been partnered with obviously hadn’t been paying attention when they were showing us how to use cock gags, and she chose the wrong size.  Before I knew it, the gag was locked in place and I was choking on it unable to breathe.  The instructor started fumbling with the keys but couldn’t find the right one for the lock.  Calypso shoved him aside and actually bit through the leather strap on the gag.  It tore up her gums and she got in trouble for both shoving the instructor and destroying the property of the Institute, but I instantly became friends with her. What cemented the friendship was when I insisted that I be punished instead of her.  My conscience just wouldn’t allow me to sit by while she was disciplined for saving me.  It turns out that wasn’t the brightest idea, because we both wound up in spending a week enduring various punishments together. I found her finally in the crowd, but only had time for a quick hug and goodbye before I had to dash back over to where Aki, Cotton and Miranda were.
The director came in and we all filed into lines.  Aki looked around at all of us and said, “May we all find kind Masters and live happily ever after.”
We all murmured our assents. I almost started crying again. I knew this was the last time I was going to see any of them. 
The director snapped and we all instantly quieted and dropped to our knees where we were.  In less than two seconds, the room was silent. 
He spoke, explaining how we were to behave when being examined by a potential buyer.  Mostly it was all the things we already knew, basic slave etiquette.  Avert your eyes unless told to do otherwise, be gracious, flatter the buyer, answer any questions with the answer that the buyer will want to hear, all that stuff.  Really the only new information was that we were to address a potential buyer as "Sir" or "Ma'am" as calling them "Master" wouldn't be appropriate until we were wearing their collar.  I thought that was a little odd, as when we were required to entertain the Institute's guests, we always addressed them as "Master" or "Mistress."  Then came the obligatory warning.
"If any one of you embarrass us in the slightest, you'll be pulled off the buyers’ floor and sent back to the Institute for six more months of...." the director paused, glancing over to the side of the room. "...re-education."  The way he said it drove ice into my blood.  I glanced over to where the instructor had looked, as I'm sure half the room did, and saw a small white mouse kneeling at the end of my line.  She was trembling all over, and staring blankly at the floor.  I knew the difference between a submissive gaze and a blank expression, and this mouse looked like a clockwork toy that had wound down.  If she hadn't been trembling, she would have looked quite dead.  As the instructor went on, I kept watching her out of the corner of my eye. She almost looked like a Chihuahua; she never for a moment stopped trembling, but then I saw marks under her fur, which was brushed down in an attempt to cover them, and I was almost certain they were scars from heavy whipping.  She was definitely damaged goods - probably mentally as well as physically.  
I knew then that I was going to the model of perfection when I was on display.  The thought of another six months of this place made me die just a little bit more inside.
"And don't think that you'll be on anything but your best behavior when you leave here, either.  Most masters will not tolerate the least little slipup, and as a guarantee of quality, your bill of sale allows your master to return you here for a month of disciplinary conduct, should you displease him or her.  Also, the Institute does sometimes buy 'used goods' back from masters who have tired of their purchases, so if you know what's good for you, you'll all do your very best to please your masters at all times, to the level of skill that the Institute has granted you."
We were led into a room that was big and lavish with white marble walls and lush red carpet all over the floors, and several pedestals where we were each deposited, four of us per pedestal.  Luckily, there was room for 4 slaves on each pedestal and Aki, Cotton, Miranda and myself all wound up sharing one.  We all assumed our kneeling positions and waited patiently (like there was any other option) for them to finish setting up the room.  
I wanted so much to talk to my friends one more time, to say goodbye again, to comfort them and be comforted, but despite being half an arms length away from Cotton, I felt terribly isolated.  The guards were idly patrolling the room, watching us.  If I as much as whispered to her I could be disciplined.  She might as well have already been sold and taken away. 
The butterflies in my stomach were getting so bad that I was worried that I'd start making gurgling sounds, or worse yet, get a bad case of gas.  Nothing would have me hauled down for 're-education' faster than if I lost my lunch right in front of a buyer.  
I tried to force ‘slave Pandora’ to the surface and hide inside her protective shell, but I couldn't stop mulling over scenarios in my mind of what my Master was going to be like.  It was something I had fantasized about dozens of times in the last year.  
I quickly dismissed any fantasies that involved being bought by some prince charming who would immediately free me asking only a kiss on the cheek in return.  Slaves of our caliber were expensive and no one is that nice.  Maybe I would just get some Master that would only use me for his personal amusement; even if I lived in some penthouse and was never allowed to go outside, that wouldn’t be so bad. 
Hopefully I won't get sold to a brothel, generally the sort of furs that go to brothels aren't like the muscular and usually well-hung male slaves that we had to partner with during training.  Ultimately, my biggest fear was getting sold to an abusive master.  In one of our many, many classes on discipline, they told us that your master does not need an excuse to punish you.  If he or she enjoys watching you suffer, then your job is to suffer. The very worst would be to be sold to a master like that, but one who has no interest in you sexually, and will never allow you to come, but delights in torturing you.  After all the sexual conditioning that they had put us through, no slave graduated the Institute without being a nymphomaniac.  Always horny, always ready, always thinking of sex and looking at the world through sex colored glasses.  Of course, the fact that we weren't allowed to pleasure ourselves was in a way worse torture than any actual pain they inflicted on us.  I tried to calm myself as my butterflies rose, thinking that not too many people would pay for a highly-trained sex slave and not actually use her for sex.
While my mind churned over all the terrible possibilities that awaited me, I heard a soft mewling from in front of me, like someone was crying softly.  Looking at the ground between my knees, I couldn't tell who it was, but I started getting scared for her.  If she didn't shape up and fast, she'd get dragged back for retraining.  Without moving my head, I looked side to side, and, not seeing any guards nearby, I risked a quick look up.  The white mouse was sitting across the aisle, still looking like a broken doll.  Every now and then, a particularly large twitch would wrack her body and she'd inhale sharply enough to emit a little gasp, which was the sound I had heard.  Immediately, I bolted my eyes to the floor where they should be.  There was no way I was going to wind up like her.  
More time passed while they set up the room, judging from the sounds they were making, setting up refreshments or some such, but beyond their fairly distant bustle, all there was to listen to was the mouse's little gulps.  I tried to block it out, but the more I tried, the more I found I was only able to focus on those noises she was making.  The guards that walked by didn't seem to care, I guess they realized that she was truly broken and no amount of punishment would un-break her.  I couldn't even begin to imagine what they could have done to her so she’d wind up like that, which was saying a lot, considering the hell my life had been for the past year. Breaking someone's spirit was one thing, but breaking her mind like it seemed they did was too much to conceive.  It occurred to me that it was entirely possible that she was just an actress hired to scare all of us into our final submission; they had done deceptive thing like that before.  I tried to focus on that thought in an attempt to calm down.  It seemed to be working when they ushered the first buyer in.
I didn't dare look up, but the buyer, apparently a woman, was escorted over to where the male slaves kneeled, and she never came near us. I thought it was a little weird that they had only let one buyer in at a time, as I had understood it, we were going to be auctioned, but after the woman made her purchases, leaving with 2 males, 3 more buyers had come in, one at a time, I got the impression that these were favored clients somehow and allowed first pick; people with the political power to protect the Institute and slaving in general, or rich regulars.  
One of them walked over to where I was kneeling, making my stomach clench.  Was this it?  Was I about to meet my master?  Again I thought about how unfair this was, that I had no say, and that the rest of my life could be decided in the next few moments.  I breathed a little sigh of relief when he stopped in front of Cotton, made her stand and display herself, then he moved on.  I couldn't believe that what little pride remained in me was hurt that he didn't even glance at me, but I realized he was here for something specific when he stopped by another lepine behind us.  
I don't know why I had been relieved... Chances are it was better to be sold to an important customer than to a rowdy bunch in an auction, but then, the rich and powerful types that these clients were could very well have power and control issues, and potentially be abusive.  I wasn't sure what to root for, and my butterflies started to return.
After an elderly skunk woman had bought 2 males and 4 females, which included Atasha, a buyer made his way over to our pedestal again, this time stopping in front of Aki.  Before I could control myself I glanced over to him, and saw a fat ugly walrus inspecting her and a data pad he was holding.  I instantly felt bad for her, he looked like someone that had just crawled out of a hole and tried to dress up fancy to look important.  He grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet and looked her over licking his bristling mustache lewdly. He turned her around once and then inspected her piercings. Suddenly he grabbed one of her nipple rings and twisted it sharply enough so that she barked in pain before she could regain her composure.  A mink approached him from behind, clasping his hands together like a characterized used car salesman. “Sir, I have to ask that you don't injure a slave until you've paid...”
The walrus cut him off “Does this one handle... punishment very well?”
The mink looked at his own data pad for a moment. “Well, Sir she is an exceptional slave in many respect...”
“That's not what I asked.” He was continuing to hold Aki's nipple tight, and she looked like she was starting to lose her composure.  Luckily the salesman was more interested in the customer and didn't notice me watching out of the corner of my eye.
“Well sir, that was not her highest rated skill, she did seem to have a fairly low pain threshold, but she does have many other...”
“Excellent... I'll take her.” He released Aki's nipple, but she did not look any less tense, and I can't blame her.  I felt horrible for her, this terrible blackness in my mind that made it hard to breath, thinking about what sort of life lay before her now, but all I could do was sit in place and feel my butterflies come back... this time they had brought reinforcements.  He snapped a leash on her collar and yanked her off the pedestal, then dragged her off to the desk towards the front where the money was exchanged.  
I felt awful, I was watching my friend be taken by some ugly sadist, I knew I’d never see her again, and I couldn't even say goodbye.  My stomach was gurgling now, I felt an acidic burp pushing it’s way up my throat when a crop struck me right on the snout.  I yelped and realized I had completely turned my head to watch Aki being dragged off, and a guard had decided to correct me.  I immediately snapped back into the correct position scared to death that I was going to feel a paw on my arm any moment to drag me back for re-education.  The guard’s boot was just inside my field of view and when it started to move I almost threw up, but he pivoted his foot and moved to my side.  He stopped where Aki had been and gestured one of the other girls forward to fill her spot, then he moved out of earshot.  I had no doubt he was watching me, so I stayed as still as a rock, trying to swallow and regain some calm, but nothing I did seemed to work.  
Just like that, and my friend was gone, out of my life forever, from the looks of it destined to be abused and to suffer for the rest of her life.
The next buyer came in, then the next, almost leaving with Miranda, but deciding for another she-wolf at the last minute.  Then the next buyer came in; I heard heavy steps approaching.  A pair of large unshod hooves came into my field of view, then moved on past.  I listened as this new buyer moved around the showroom, even on the carpet his weight made it easy to hear where he was.  He spent a fair amount of time browsing, then eventually came back to where I was kneeling. He stopped right in front of me, tabbing on his data pad for a minute, most likely reading everything there was to know about me.  During this time, I can't explain why, but a lot of my nervousness faded before I felt his hand on my head.  “Please stand up kitten.” He said in a deep but soft voice.
“Please?” I though to myself.  I hadn’t heard that word in a long time, unless it was coming out the mouth of a slave begging for mercy.  
I swallowed, calming myself as much as I could.  Whether or not I had any particular interest in this person, I knew I had to do my best to sell myself to him.  I rose, my knees sore from the long time kneeling, and I stood in front of him, arms behind my back, eyes still cast down.  
“Look at me.”  It wasn’t a command, the tone of his voice was that of a request, not that it mattered, I had to obey any instruction of his.
I obeyed, raising my eyes demurely like I had been trained, and looked into his large brown eyes.  He was a stallion, and quite a handsome one.  I glanced at his forehead and saw the oddest sight, a single opalescent spiral horn pointing up from between his brows.  A... unicorn?  I had never heard of such a thing but there he was.  He was quite tall, even standing on the platform I had to look up to meet his gaze.  His eyes were dark and his brow was creased with, something... concern? Disapproval? I couldn't tell but there seemed to be something on his mind. Maybe it was just his 'appraisal' face.  His eyes moved over me for a moment then gestured with them for me to turn around. I did so slowly; as I turned I lowered my eyes to take a look at the rest of him.  He was wearing a dark green turtleneck shirt, tight enough to show that he was heavily muscled and very trim. Over that was a black sports coat and on his legs were some black pleated cargo pants.  As I turned I noticed that his neck fur was covered with spots... Not the kind you'd see on a palomino, they looked like leopard spots.  Whoever he was, he must have a complex heritage.  As I turned, I pulled my hair off my back so that he could see all my own spots, I inhaled a little when I felt his hand on my back, it was so warm... hot really.  I started trembling.  I was supposed to be acting sexy and alluring, but  my whole body was shivering.  Everything came down to this, the whole last year, everything I had been through, and the rest of my life could be decided in the next minute.  He was still looking me over, and leaned his snout to my ear, his body almost touching mine.  
He slid his hands down over my buttocks, then I felt both his hands on my shoulders, he lifted my arms and held them out in a “T.” Still facing away from him, he gripped my wrists tightly and he said in almost a whisper, “Struggle.”
I tensed slightly, my shivering fading for a moment, not quite sure what he meant, then I tested his grip on one hand, then the other, soon I was squirming back and forth, rolling my shoulders and twisting my spine and swishing my tail back and forth in what I hoped was a sexy way, trying to pull free from him, but my hands might just as well have been cemented into a wall for all the progress I was making.  He shifted his grip slightly and I stopped struggling, he put my arms down and turned me around.  “Very nice musculature, very sexy.”
It felt like electricity was running through me... he had actually paid me a compliment!  It was probably the first kind word anyone who wasn't a slave had spoken to me in weeks. Compliments that you received from instructors basically amounted to, "Congratulations, you've passed this class with sufficiently high marks that you will be spared from discipline."  
Elated I looked him in the eye. “Thank you Mas... uh, Sir.” I dropped my gaze, hoping this guy wasn't going to count that slip up against me.  Of all the buyers that had come in so far, he looked like by far my best prospect to leave this place with a decent master.  True I didn't know anything about him, but he seemed gentle and was incredibly handsome.  Maybe if he bought me he'd take one step outside and start beating me for no reason, but the look in his eyes made me believe that he wasn't capable of that. I decided that I was going to do everything I could to make this stallion my Master.
“Tell me, do you have any skills in particular beyond what you’ve learned in the Institute?”
Victory! “Yes Sir,” I smiled. “I’m a licensed star ship pilot, qualified to fly commercial grade D and E class ships, as well as a variety of sub warp vessels.” I bit my lower lip expectantly watching his reaction. If this guy was looking for a sex toy that he could also use as cheap labor, then that was one more feather in my cap.
“Really?” He arched an eyebrow, then looked at the padd for a moment. “That’s… convenient.  It doesn’t say anything about that here.” He turned to the salesman. “You guys really should include information like that on these.”
“Well, I think that…” I started, but then snapped my mouth shut as the salesman glared at me.  I had just fucked up big time; the customer had turned his back to me, my turn to speak had ended.  I was so admonished by the salesman’s stare that I started trembling again.  I cast my eyes down and lowered my head. I saw the stallion’s hoof on the ground as he walked up to me again.  
“What was that?” he asked.  I didn’t dare look up as I answered.
“I… I just meant,” I couldn’t keep my voice from quivering. “I was going to say that my license has probably expired, but I should be able to re-certify with only a short time studying any changes in code… Sir.”
He nodded, seemingly unconcerned with my breach of etiquette. “That could be quite handy.  You wouldn't consider jumping in the first starship you see and high tailing it off world if I were to buy you would you?” 
My eyes went wide; he has just directly asked me if I'd try to escape from him.  “No Master... ah... Sir, no Sir of course not!” He seemed rather amused by my reaction and chuckled.
“No, of course you wouldn't.” He put his hand to my cheek and leaned in toward me. “I'm sure that escape is the very furthest thing from your mind.” He grinned almost knowingly.  He looked down at Cotton and bade her stand.  “What about you, do you have any talents besides the ones that the Institute provides?” Cotton, ever the demure slave just shook her head.  “No Sir, I'm afraid not.”
“Well, at least you can remember to call me Sir instead of Master.”  I glanced over at him, his lips pulled back into a wry smile.  I wasn't sure if he was playing with me or what.  The instructors in the Institute had told us to be confident (in a meek way) when dealing with our superiors, and when entertaining guests, I had been just that, but those were one-night things... What happened today would permanently affect the rest of my life, how could I be confident about anything?  If he was admonishing me and that smirk was some kind of "Can you believe how stupid this slave is?" look and I tried to laugh it off, that would just be the end of it right there, but what if he was just ribbing me and I turned away in shame?  If he wanted a slave that would laugh at all his jokes... Oh God I didn't know what to do, but I couldn't stand there in dilemma forever... 
I nervously cracked a slight smile on my face, hoping for a favorable reaction.  He nodded almost imperceptibly and turned back to Cotton.  “What did you do before you came to the Institute?”
“I was a student Sir. I only have a high school education, and some college, no real vocational skills.”  I couldn’t read Cotton at all.  She was obviously failing this interview, but she was so docile that it didn't register on her face.  Maybe she wasn't interested in this stallion as her master?  Maybe it didn't matter at all to her?
He looked at her information on the padd for a second. “I guess that's not too surprising, you're only 22, is that right?”
“Yes Sir, 22 last week.”
He lowered the padd and stared at her for a moment.  “You had a birthday in this place?”  He muttered to himself, “Of course you did, it's year long training, all of you have.” He shook his head and his shoulders sagged just a bit.  “God that's so depressing.”
I studied this potential Master while he went back to looking over Cotton's information.  He was depressed for us?  Was this guy going to be the prince charming that would buy me and set me free?  No, I shook my head internally, then why would he have asked us about skills outside of sexual training?  He definitely seemed compassionate, and it reinforced my desire to be owned by him, but there was nothing I could do unless he spoke to me again. I could only watch as he made the most important decision of my life based on whatever whims were influencing him at the moment.  I knew I shouldn't hope for too much.  At least... at least that walrus hadn't bought me... I started thinking about Aki, and worrying for her again... it had been probably 20 minutes since she left with her new master.  She was probably being abused in the back seat of some limo at this very moment.  And I knew Aki too, she wouldn't fight back in the least, she would just suffer submissively in silence.
Suddenly I was aware that the stallion had stopped moving.  I opened my eyes and realized that I had been daydreaming vividly about Aki's plight.  Did I make some noise or otherwise draw attention to myself?  He walked over to me and quietly looked me in the eyes. I stared back at him, trying my best to look sexy and demure, but I felt a bit like a doe caught in headlights.  He put his hand on the side of my face, just below my ear and closed his eyes for a second.  I had no idea what he was doing, but I pressed my cheek into his hand, enjoying its warmth. He opened his eyes and moved over to Cotton, doing the same thing to her.  The salesman and a guard exchanged confused glances, but didn't interfere, the customer, after all, is always right.
After holding Cotton's cheek for a few moments, he moved over to Miranda and the squirrel that had moved up to fill Aki's spot.  After having them both stand, he started to talk to Miranda, asking her his usual questions and seeing what skills she had beyond the Institute.  It turns out that Miranda has an MBA and some skills as a warehouse manager, working with inventory and shipping schedules, which the stallion seemed to have an interest in.
“How did you wind up here?”
“I... caused a bad car accident while talking on my cell phone... someone was killed and another person was injured very badly. My insurance barely covered my own injuries but there was still the matter of furslaughter. In the end I was given the choice of going to jail or selling myself here, so I decided to come here, with the assurance that my sale price would go to help the injured passenger from the other car... Sir.” She said sadly.
He nodded, then looked back and forth between the 4 or us on the pedestal a few times.  He studied the squirrel for a moment before motioning her to return to her kneeling position, then stood in front of the three of us.  “The three of you are friends aren't you?”  We looked back and forth between us.  How could he have known that?  Just cause we were standing together? But then what about the squirrel, how did he know to exclude her from the group?
Nervously I nodded. “Yes Mas...” I stopped and bit my tongue.  Why was it so hard for me to remember the proper way to address him?  The guard’s crop struck me on the thigh, I winced, but for a moment I wished that he would hit me again. If I screwed up any chance I had of being sold to this fur I'd die, but the stallion shot a black look at the guard, who backed off immediately. I hoped that was a good sign, if he was acting defensively on my behalf, maybe that meant that he had decided to buy me already?  He walked over to me and rubbed the spot on my leg where the welt was starting to form.  “There's someone missing, isn't there?”
I blinked and looked at him.  Thinking before I spoke this time I asked him, “Sir?”
“You have a friend that's not here, don't you? Another slave that has already been sold maybe?” I was stunned... was this guy psychic or something? The guard and the salesman exchanged confused glances again.
“Yes Sir, her name was Aki... She was an Asian black fox who was sold just before you came in.”
“An Asian fox, eh?  That’s a shame.  You know, there’s no pussy quite like Asian pussy.” He smirked and turned his attention to the salesman as he finished his sentence. 
I almost shot a witty retort at him, but remembered my place and stifled it.  He stopped suddenly and turned towards me.  
“What were you about to say?”
I balked slightly; I hadn’t realized I had emoted the need to speak so strongly that he would have noticed with his back turned to me.  I glanced up at him very briefly then over to the salesman, then cast my eyes back down.  Witty retorts were not valued in sex slaves. “Nothing Sir.”
He grabbed my chin and made me look up at him, I started trembling slightly as he caught me in his deep brown eyes.  “You don’t need his approval to speak,” he gestured to the salesman with a tilt of his head.  “I’m the customer, you do as I say.”
I glanced at the salesman very briefly, but a tug on the chin jerked my vision back to the stallion. “I… I was going to say,” I mustered a little courage with his warm hand on my chin. “…that maybe you think so highly of Asian pussy because you haven’t had my… pussy.” I faltered slightly right at the end - as the word pussy escaped my lips I realized just how dirty what I was saying was.  A year at the Institute did a whole lot to suppress your shame, but there was still a shred of modesty left in me somewhere.  That was intentional I'm sure.  A girl is a lot sexier when she's blushing.  I thought I saw the salesman nod in approval out of the corner of my eye, but I was waiting for the stallion’s reaction.  He laughed and suddenly it felt like a weight had lifted off my chest. I realized I had been holding my breath in anticipation.
“Well, I see your instructors gave you high marks in… that area, you passed Kabazzah training third in your class... very good...” He studied the data padd he was holding, then nodded.  He walked up very close to me, almost touching me, making me tremble and feel overwhelmed by his presence.  For a moment he said nothing, just stared at me, a wry smile slowly forming on his lips.  “Would you like to come home with me and be my slave?  To wear my collar and devote yourself to serving my every desire?”  He asked quietly.
My trembling continued, but now I was quivering with excitement.  “Yes please Sir.” I whispered.
He nodded and turned to the salesman and with a gesture of his hand waved in my direction and said “I'll take...”
My heart leapt for joy, but then I realized he had never finished his sentence.  Instead he had caught a glimpse of the mouse out of the corner of his eye and was slowly turning towards her.  He walked towards her and started looking her over.  My heart sank as he walked from me.  I wanted to call out to him but there was nothing I could do.  I just stood there, frantic on the inside, waiting and hoping for the best. 
He asked the mouse some questions, I had expected her to be mute, but surprisingly she answered, her voice was childlike and monotone like she had been hypnotized. After a few minutes of this, he grabbed the salesman by the shoulder and hauled him over to him and started yelling things about the law and 'going too far.'  The guard who had stuck me started walking towards them, but the stallion shot him a look that would have stopped a Mac truck, and it had much the same effect on the guard.  Eventually he grabbed the mouse by the arm and dragged the two of them towards the front.  The muscles in my legs tensed as I almost leapt off the stand and ran after him, but I managed to restrain myself.  I knew if I did something that foolish that I would become the permanent poster child for re-education.  
Then I felt someone in front of me, I turned my head back and the guard was standing inches from my face.  He was a big Siberian husky and he had a cold look in his eyes. He looked over at Cotton and Miranda who instantly dropped back into their kneeling positions.  I remained standing, I knew what was coming.  He turned back to me. “How many times would you say you addressed that customer incorrectly?”
I knew my punishment would be directly related to my answer, but low-balling would only get me in more trouble. “Five times Master.”  
 “Turn around, bend at the waist and lift your tail.” The guard’s eyes narrowed to slits. I immediately complied. I had learned very early on in the Institute that any protests would dramatically escalate punishments. Besides, I deserved it, I couldn't remember such a simple thing like how to address a buyer, and now he was gone.  What was he doing with that mouse? Was he coming back?  
The guard’s crop struck, right on my ass, inches from my exposed sex.  I winced a bit. He had hit me pretty hard but I had fared much worse.  Then the next blow came,  landing in the exact same spot, causing it to hurt a lot more.  Then the third, again in the same spot, this time it burned. I tensed, having a pretty good idea where the next 2 hits were going. I waited but it didn't come.  I didn't dare look back but the moment I started to relax the next one landed, again on the prominent welt I no doubt sported. I yelped just a little bit, which must have been the response he had been looking for, because I didn't have to wait at all for the last strike, this one was so hard I almost lost my balance and teetered forward.  I cried out this time, the mark on my ass feeling now like a tear in my skin.  He grabbed me roughly by the hair and yanked me around, forcing me into my kneeling position.  He pushed down on my head till my heel was digging into the welt, stinging and burning terribly.  
He bent over in front of me and shoved his snout in my face, which I was contorting, trying not to cry. “If you mess up the slightest little bit, one more time today, it's back to class for you, missy. Now straighten up and don't move.” He emphasized the end of his sentence my pushing my head away roughly.
I sat there, trying my damnedest not to cry, my ass burning, my hair was a mess and still there was no sign of the stallion.  I saw Cotton wiggle her thumb a little, which was a sign amongst the slaves of reassurance, when we couldn't move or talk and were being watched.  I heard someone come in the room, when I realized it wasn’t the stallion, I couldn't even muster the strength to wiggle back.  I just sat there sniffling trying not to concentrate on the burning from my posterior, which of course only made it worse.
This new buyer was apparently female and stayed to the males side of the room, at least at first, but she began moving towards us, swishing up and down the aisles, stopping here or there, asking the occasional question of a different salesman, not talking much to the slaves themselves.  Eventually she started walking to our pedestal, my heart beating louder (and the welt on my ass consequently throbbing harder) with each of her steps. She walked right past me, I saw the swish of a squirrel's tail as she moved past. She stopped in front of the squirrel next to Miranda and examined her for a while.
"I suppose she looks a little like me, her cheeks are higher than mine, but I suppose a little cosmetic surgery could take care of that."
I blinked... what kind of creepy fetish did this woman have?  Either she was going to play a weird joke on her husband, or she was looking for a dummy corpse.  The idea that owners had so much control over their slaves that they could perform permanent physical alterations had been extremely troubling to me when I first found out.  A number of girls at the Institute had been given breast augmentation treatments, including Cotton.  In fact I had been in line for some of that myself, but the powers that be decided that my C cup breasts were sufficiently large for my frame, which was a tremendous source of relief.  If someone had told me that after I had been declawed though, I think my reaction would have been a lot more indifferent.
"Ooh! A leopard!  I didn't even see her when I walked by!"  My heart sank.  The squirrel woman pranced over to me and had me stand up, then pulled me off the pedestal so that our eyes were at the same height.  "Oh my God you're the spitting image of a friend of mine... your fur is darker, and you're a little skinnier than her of course, but then they don't feed you very well here do they?"
I didn't know how to respond to that but she obviously didn't want any input from me anyway as she kept right on talking.  "A little work on the snout and bob those ears a bit, and of course we'll have to totally change your hair, hmm, new eyes too I think... OH!" She hopped in place and turned to the salesman.  "Do you have tall male puma?"
Flustered at her energy, and probably just as clueless as to why this woman was trying to replace her friends with look-alike slaves, he studied his board for a moment.  "I believe we have a rather large mountain lion... would that work, Ma'am?"
"I don't know, lets go take a look at him!  Oh, and bring those two along" She gestured to the squirrel and me.
I hung my head and closed my eyes.  That was it... in a week I'd probably be going through cosmetic surgery so that I could put on bizarre sex plays for an audience that looked just like the actors, or sit in for a tired housewife without the husband's knowledge or something, and I'd never see my friends again.  A leash was snapped on the ring on my collar, and I was prepared to start following then when I heard a voice.
"I'm sorry, but this one has already been sold." The voice... it was... I looked up and the unicorn was standing there, and the leash was running into HIS hand.  I could have jumped in the air I was so happy.  Instead I smiled broadly which he seemed to appreciate.  I expected there to be a confrontation between him and this squirrel, but she just cooed when she saw him.  "Oh that's a shame.  You know, it's a bigger shame that you’re not for sale as well." She stroked his cheek.
He took her hand off his cheek and kissed it.  "Not for sale, Ma'am, but... possibly for rent."  He emphasized the meaning of his sentence with highly animated eyebrows.  She squealed and clapped her hands, then took her entourage off to where the males were, dragging the squirrel slave with her.
He looked at me, wide eyed.  "Wow, what a freak." Without the guard there, and the nervousness of not knowing my fate looming anymore, I actually cracked an earnest smile back at him.  He took my chin again with his hand.  "You know, you're a lot prettier when you're smiling than you are when you're cowering in fear."
Another compliment.  I continued smiling. "Thank you Mas..." I thought for a second, he said he had already paid for me.  "Master... thank you Master." Calling him that made me surprisingly happy.  I looked down at my two friends, Cotton was still casting her eyes down, but Miranda was watching us in the side of her vision.  "Uh, Master?" He looked up from the padd he was holding... Shit, I had just spoken out of turn again.  I certainly wasn't making a good impression here.  He didn't admonish me though; he just looked at me waiting to finish saying what I had started to say.  "Um..." I continued a bit more timidly. "I know it's an indulgence, and I haven't yet done anything to earn..."  He arched an eyebrow, looking like he was instantly impatient with my diatribe.  "Uh... May I please say goodbye to my friends before I go?"
"Uh, actually, no."  
I flattened my ears, and hung my head a little.  It was foolish to ask for I suppose. At least he didn't lash me with the end of the leash for wanting something so unreasonable.  Miranda cast her eyes back down.
He reached into his pocket and produced 2 more leashes, which he handed to me.  "What I meant was that they're coming with us."
I'm sure my eyes bugged out of my skull.  He tilted his head towards the two of them, who had both looked up.  "Hook them up for me would you?" 
There were tears in my eyes by now, I was smiling so broadly.  I could only nod and moved over to them, hooking a leash to each of their collars as they stood up.  We didn't speak, but it was obvious from the looks in their eyes that they were just as relieved and happy as I was.  I went to hand back the leashes to him, but he only took mine asking that I hang on to Cotton's leash and that I give Miranda's to Cotton. I did so, then gave Cotton a playful tug on her leash, flashing her a wicked "You're coming with me, slave" smile.  Our Master studied his padd for a few more seconds before looking up.
"All ready to go?"  We nodded and said "Yes Master." in unison.  He started towards the front, my own leash held loosely in his hand.  We followed him to a circular desk made from the same white marble that the walls of the room were, behind which an attractive raccoon lady sat.  He gestured to the door. "Wait right over there for me, I have a little paperwork to fill out."
I looked towards the door and saw Atasha and the other slaves that had been purchased alone with her kneeling against the wall.  The skunk who had bought them was nowhere to be seen, apparently she was filling out paperwork or something.  I risked a little wave at her, but just as I did, I felt my Master behind me, he stopped me with a touch on my shoulder.  
“Whoa, whoa.” He said.
Terrified I had done something wrong, I turned to face him, but he turned me back around and crouched behind me.  "Where did you get this?"  He touched me lightly just below the welt that I had thankfully forgotten about.
Relieved that I wasn’t in trouble already, I answered him. "One of the guards corrected me for when I misspoke..." 
He stood behind me.  "Which guard? The husky?"  He asked, his voice suddenly serious.
I turned to face him. "Yes Master."
His expression soured and he stormed off and disappeared into the male slave's section, glowering.  I stood there, not sure what to do, a little nervous as to what was going to happen next.  There was a bit of a commotion then he reappeared dragging the husky by his scruff.  He walked up to me and threw the protesting guard on the floor with a thump, then grabbed him by the back of the neck and held him on his knees. "Now you apologize to her." He said in a deep mean sounding voice.
My eyes went wide; he was going to make this guard apologize to a slave on his knees in front of all the other guards and slaves?
The guard, struggling to break the stallion's grip, barked, "To a slave? You've got to be kid.... ACK." His sentence was cut short as my Master reinforced his grip. 
"NOW." The stallion’s voice was full of brimstone.
Between coughs, the guard started trying to speak, but was having a lot of trouble, as he was literally in a death grip. "I... >ack<... sorry... I'm... forgive..."  The husky’s tongue was hanging out of his mouth and his eyes were starting to roll up into his sockets.  Not lessening his grip on the guard’s neck, my stallion looked up at me.  "Do you accept his apology?"
Needless to say I was stunned, not to mention a little concerned.  This unicorn appeared to be almost an ideal master from what I could tell from meeting him, but in less than 15 minutes he had completely lost his temper twice.  And now here I was on the spot, everyone in the room staring at either me or him, including all the slaves who had dared look up.  Even the raccoon lady at the desk was leaning over the side trying to watch.  In truth I wanted to kick this guard in the face... but that was the inner Pandora... the outer slave Pandora wasn't about to let the inner one have her way. "Uh... yes Master.” I said, but thought sarcastically, “I accept his very heartfelt apology."  I couldn’t voice it, I wanted to say it, but my training wouldn’t allow it.
My Master released the husky who crumpled to the floor, coughing.  "You're lucky that my slave is so generous.  I wouldn't have been."  The guard didn't have a response, he just lay there in a fetal position, covering the back of his head.  I noticed that the squirrel lady had emerged from the male's room, her hand on her chest, watching my Master with undisguised desire.  He leaned over the counter and snatched some papers out of the hand of the raccoon, who stood surprisingly still, wide eyed.  "I'll mail these to you if you don't mind."  She blinked, then nodded.  He then turned to me and held out his hand.  I hesitated for a moment before realizing what he wanted, then handed him my leash.  
He took it and lead us all out of the room, going a different way than we came in, obviously, through another room that was largely comprised of the same white marble, then to a hall that led to some large sliding glass doors that ultimately led outside.  I squinted, realizing that I hadn't been outside in months.  I had to tug on Cotton's leash a bit, apparently she was having the same trouble seeing that I was.  By the time we stepped outside all three of us were practically blind. I had to rely on the pull on my leash to direct me.  I'm sure Master felt my resistance, but didn't say anything, I couldn’t tell if he looked back at us, I was squinting mightily, watching the ground.  Feeling the hot sun on my fur and the slight breeze in my hair was so nice I felt a shiver go through me, and my nose caught a hundred new scents that I was smelling for the first time in months instead of the dark corridors of the Institute which always smelled of female arousal, despite efforts to the contrary by the janitorial staff.
Master led us around the side of the building to a parking garage, as nice as the sun felt, it was a relief to get into the shadow of the garage, where I could open my eyes up again. We went up a ramp toward a large vehicle, it looked like a cross between a limo and an SUV.  There was a beautiful doe standing beside the car wearing a leather miniskirt/jacket sort of thing with a deep V neck and a leather police hat.  Obviously she was the chauffeur, and she opened the back door for us. "It looks like you made some fine purchases tonight Sir."  I noticed that she wasn't wearing a collar as I got in.  In fact the only jewelry I saw on her was on top of her left ear, there was a gold clasp with a small jewel in it.  
My stallion stood outside chatting below my ability to hear as I climbed in and saw the inside of the vehicle, and immediately notice that we weren't alone. The white mouse was huddled in a corner on one of the benches, looking slightly more animated that when I saw her before.  She was still shaking, but she was glancing around like she didn't know where she was, though she didn't seem to make any notice of our arrival.  Next to her were 2 male slaves from the Institute, a hyena that I didn't know, and next to him was a young, wirey Bengal tiger, whom I had been partnered with on several occasions over the last year.  While our Master was still talking with the doe outside, I leaned towards him and whispered, "Tyco? Is that you?"
Recognizing me he smiled and waved.  He nudged the hyena and pointed to Cotton.  The hyena took a look at her and smiled, reaching his foot across the cabin to nudge her knee.  She looked up (she had been sitting with her eyes downcast, the little perfectionist) and saw him, then blushed furiously and looked back down again.  I've never understood how she could be the least bit bashful about anything after going through the Institute, but somehow she managed it.  I poked her to get her attention, when she looked up, I gestured to him with a nod. "What's up with him?"
Drawing circles on her thigh with her finger, she responded softly. "He was in my... ur... cunnilingus class... I mean... I was in his really... I mean, he was practicing on... you know... me." 
I was exasperated at her shyness.  "So? Tyco over there has had me in every way a man can have a woman.  Heck he was my final in the Kabazzah class."
Tyco scratched his tummy, looking pleased with himself. "Yup, and what a final it was too."
"Oh hush all you had to do was lie there."
"Yeah, lie there and NOT orgasm.  I got a savage paddling after you brought me off so quickly with that wonder cunt of yours."
I grinned and tugged on my collar idly.  "Well a girl's got to be good at something.  It was either that or back to another 3 weeks of that class plus quite a bit more paddling that you got I'm sure, so you get no sympathy from me mister."
"Don't get me wrong, I'll take a whoopin' like that any time for another chance to plug your..." Tyco cut off his whisper suddenly as our Master climbed in with us.  
He actually sat on the floor in between the benches, leaning up against cushion that was built into the wall of the vehicle.  The inside of the cabin was large enough for a big ursine or a minotaur, and while my Master wasn't quite that large, the foot long horn on his head did add a problematic amount of height to him.  The doe closed the door from the outside and got in the front, starting the engine.
As the vehicle pulled out of the garage, we all sat in silence, eyes downcast while our Master fiddled with a PDA, typing in some information.  After a few moments, he put it away and folded his hands over his stomach. 
"I’m the sort of person that welcomes change, I always look at it as an opportunity, and you know, in a way I almost envy you guys.  Your lives have been so full of so much suffering and uncertainty for the last year, but now… well, now a whole new chapter in your lives is starting.  You’re finished with the Institute, now all you have to worry about is pleasing me, which some people will tell you isn’t terribly difficult.  Heh. I'm sure you're all buzzing with questions, wondering what sort of master I am going to be.  I can't imagine the kind of frightening scenarios you guys must have already run through in your minds as to your life after the Institute.  I can tell you however, that they do prepare you for the worst, so most slaves wind up in better situations that you might expect... at least the ones that graduated in the top of your class like you all did.  When we get home, I'll give you all the big lecture detailing my rules and what I expect from each of you, but in the meantime let me give you some basics.  First off, it is okay to 'speak out of turn' around me, but be polite and demure, and never interrupt me when I’m talking.  I don’t want to be assailed with idle chatter.  If you have something important to say, just raise your paw, or if I'm not facing you, you may address me then wait for me to respond. If I ask you a question, I expect a full answer, not the shortest sentence you can manage. I know the Institute spent a lot of time pounding the idea into you that slaves should be seen and not heard, but I don’t follow that entirely.  Other than that, just remember your training and we'll be fine for tonight."  He put his hand on my knee.  "How is your welt?"
Without looking up I responded, "It's okay Master, the cool leather seat feels good against it."
"Good. That's another thing, if I'm speaking directly to you, look up at me, I don't like having conversations with the tops of people's heads."
I looked up at him, mouth open, only to be silenced by his outstretched finger.
"And don’t apologize when I correct you for something that you couldn't have possibly known about.  This isn't the Institute any more where they punish without any good reason." He paused for a second then pointed to Miranda, who had apparently raised her paw. "Yes Miranda, you have a question?"
"How should we address you, Master?  I mean, what is your name?"
He nodded his head. "Master will do for now.  Oh, and if you don't know each other, I'm sure you've at least seen each other in passing during your time at the Institute," He pointed. "Miranda, Cotton.... Everyone look up, it doesn't do any good for me to introduce you all if you don't see who I'm pointing to."
I looked up shyly, everyone had a similar expression to mine on their faces.
"Miranda, Cotton..." he pointed at me with a blank look on his face. "I'm sorry, I don't remember your name yet."
He apologized to me?  That really felt weird, kind of made me uncomfortable actually, I'm not sure why.  "Pandora, Master."
He arched an eyebrow.  "Pandora, eh?  Does that mean you're a big box of trouble?"
My eyes widened a bit. "No Master, not at all."
He chuckled and slapped my leg.  "I'm kidding, Honeyfur." 
Honeyfur?  That was kind of a nice nickname I suppose, considering my amber coat.  I think if some guy called me that in a bar I might not like it that much, but for some reason, out of this stallions mouth, it sounded... sweet... and a little possessive, like he was - customizing me or something.
He pointed at the tiger. "Tyco, Horace, and..." Pointing at the mouse he paused. "What is your name, dear?"
The mouse looked more or less at him and spoke in that same childlike voice as before. "That is for my Master to decide."
My stallion’s expression soured considerably. "That's not what I asked.  Tell me your name."
She sat trembling on the bench for a moment, glancing around nervously. "I do not know Master."
Before I could catch myself, I drew my paw up to my muzzle in shock.  They must have somehow wiped her mind completely, either mechanically, or caused such emotional trauma to her that all her sense of self simply vanished.
Clearly our Master was unhappy with that news as well, and he drew his finger back into a fist.  I was scared... were we about to see another burst of his temper?  Back at the Institute he had directed his anger at the Institute personnel, but of course, none of them were here now.  He surprised me, and all of us I think by drawing the mouse, who was barely 5 feet tall, into his lap and just sat quietly stroking her hair.  His eyes were closed, so I looked up at the other slaves.  Cotton and Tyco had their eyes back down in their laps, Miranda was just watching our Master with a sad look on her face, and Horace was glancing around like me, not really sure what to do.
I took the time to try and figure out where we were going.  I glanced out the window, it seemed we were heading out of the city, but it was hard to tell.  The city was so big that all I saw outside the window was urban sprawl.  I eventually returned my gaze to my lap, over the last year, it had become my safety position.  You can't do anything wrong if you're not doing anything at all.  Well... unless you were supposed to be doing something and didn't know it.  Still, it felt weird to be sitting on the cushy leather bench while my Master sat on the floor.  I wanted to offer him my seat, or do something to make him more comfortable... my... Master.  I thought about how good it felt to finally have a Master.  To be owned.  No more training, no more classes, just a Master to obey.  Was it my training that told me that I wasn't complete without a Master, or was I just naturally submissive and didn't realize it till I had been forced into that position?  Even if Master didn't turn out to be as nice as he seemed to be...  
There was a twinge inside me... Some part of me wanted to shout and escape and tell me how pathetic I was for feeling that... But even inner Pandora had to admit that there was something so peaceful and simple about my life right at this exact moment.
I heard my Master stir, and looked up with only my eyes to see that the mouse has largely stopped twitching... there was still the occasional jerk, but it seemed that she was either sleeping or on the verge of sleep.  Master turned his head to Cotton and spoke softly. "So Cotton, you do realize that you are the only one here without any kind of marketable skill, don't you?"
She looked up at him with her head, as he had requested, but kept her eyes downcast... I'm not sure what he made of that, but he didn't correct her when she spoke.  "I did not know Tyco and Horace had trade skills, but I understand Master."
"The only reason I bought you... well, besides the fact that you are an incredibly sexy young woman and highly trained in every possible aspect of pleasuring others... uh, and you're demure and totally obedient... er..." Master scratched his chin.  "In any case, you're here because you're friends with Pandora and Miranda.  Life is full of meetings and parting, but I don't believe they should be forced if it can be helped.  In any case, you're young and quite bright according to your dossier, and you learn very quickly.  I'm not sure whether that's just the Institute's way of saying that you hate being punished, or if you're just a quick study."
"Both Master."
"I see.  I hope you'll be willing to learn some useful skills so that you can maintain your value to me, compared to your peers."
She nodded.  "Master, my will does not enter into it, I will obey any command you give me."  
"Jeeze Cotton," I thought to myself. "You don't have to be a completely perfect slave ALL the time."
Master arched an eyebrow. "Considering your position, I suppose that's a commendable attitude.  So what would you do if I told you to disobey me?"
Cotton's eyes bulged a little as all of her perfectly prepared responses went out the window. "I... I..." 
Inwardly I smiled a bit.  Cotton was my friend, and it was tough to see her get put on the spot.  Who knows what consequences there would be if she said the wrong thing, and that was the sort of question to which there was no right answer, but I had to admit it was at least a little fun to watch her squirm.  Besides, being beaten was part of being a slave, and I had been forced to watch my friends suffer under the lash so many times that I was somewhat numb to the experience now.  
"I'm sorry Master, I don't know how to answer that.  Please teach me."
I smirked. Out of all the wrong answers there were, that one was the least wrong, even if saying "Please teach me" is an invitation to punishment, actually it was the perfect answer BECAUSE of that.
Master chuckled a little.  "Good answer.  Well, do you have any hobbies that we could groom into useful skills?"  His generosity was amazing.  He wasn't going to just assign her a skill that suited him?  Apparently Cotton thought that was too much as well.
"Would Master not rather have me..." Whoops... Cotton must have just realized as I did that she was questioning her Master, but it only gave her a slight pause. "...learn whichever skills suit his needs?"
"That isn't what I asked you Cotton." I couldn't gauge his voice, but he didn't SOUND angry.
"I'm sorry Master. Before I became a slave I attended college on a music scholarship, I was practicing the cello.  Um... I'm also a decent cook, not exceptional by any measure, but my food is regarded as palatable by most, and we received quite a bit of culinary training at the Institute as well. I would be embarrassed to serve my cooking to you though Master. I'm sure you're used to only the very best."
"Oh, and on what do you base that assessment?" He held a thin smile on his lips as for the second time tonight he watched her struggle for an answer.
She smiled, only just a bit, and I knew she had a good one.  "Because you've chosen me as a slave, Master."
He laughed out loud.  "Say what you will about the Institute, but they sure do train you guys well there. Hey Callista, are we almost there?"
The doe, who hadn't said anything the whole trip spoke over her shoulder into the back. "Yes Master, we're pulling up now."
I wondered where 'there' was exactly.  I noticed Master had a quizzical look on his face.  "What did you just say?"
"I said we're almost there you big meathead."  I tensed... why did she say such a thing to him?  Meathead? Surely no matter how kind a Master was no slave could escape unscathed from... Wait... she hadn't been wearing a collar...
"No, right before you said, "We're pulling up now" what did you say?"
"I said, "Yes Mas..." Oh... I... I'm sorry - Sir... Old habits die hard I guess."
What did she say!?  Old habits? Did she USED to be his slave?  What was going on? I was so full of questions I wanted to raise my paw, but he was still talking to her.
"I guess so they do... And I guess that I should administer a firm spanking to you like I used to."   
"That would only be encouraging me... SIR, and you know it."  She turned around as she brought the vehicle to a stop and smiled at him from under the brim of her hat.
"I suppose it would at that."
Callista got out of the limo and opened the door for us.  It was getting close to dusk now, I didn't have as hard a time seeing outside once everyone else but the mouse had gotten out.  Master had us hold each other's leashes, with Callista at the front of the line, holding Horace's.  Master ducked back into the car, presumably to say something to the mouse, since she didn't follow us.  
Callista was teasing Horace just a bit, pulling on his leash and drawing him close.  "What a fine specimen you are.  Just look at those abs.  Perhaps your Master would loan you out to me now and then?  Would you like that, my little hyena?"
Horace chuckled nervously, glancing back to make sure his Master was still otherwise engaged, then back to Callista.  "I think that could be quite pleasant for both of us."
I looked around, we were in between buildings, around behind them, in sort of an alley that was big enough to park several cars in.  Whatever this place was, they obviously allowed slaves, as there was a clearly marked "Slave Entrance" that we were standing near.
Master got out of the vehicle and walked to the building. "I think it's best that she stays put for now.  Make sure you lock the door, Callista."  Master went in through the slave's entrance, having to stoop mightily to get past.  We all followed after the doe had locked up the vehicle, each of us having to duck slightly, most likely that was by design. Keep the slaves feeling inferior I guess.  When we got inside, I saw that it was a clothing store, in fact, I immediately got the impression that the store catered only to slaves.  Master was talking to someone about how having the slaves entrance in that back meant that the masters had to go through it as well, as most masters didn't trust their slaves to walk around the back of a building without scampering down the alley.  Seeing how many slaves had followed him in, the employee, maybe he was the owner, apologized profusely and generally did a lot of bowing and scraping before quickly turning the topic to my Master's needs.
"Let's get them each a weeks worth of clothes, you know the sort of thing I like.  I can't have them running around naked in public all the time."  Actually, it was perfectly legal to go naked in public, though if you weren't a slave, you might get a few disapproving looks, but as it was this business's job to clothe slaves, the owner didn't bother pointing that out to my Master.
Instead a few assistants came up to us and ushered us off where we were measured.  Master flopped down in a comfortable looking leather chair and Callista actually poked through some of the racks of garments, even though it seemed that most of the clothing in here would barely be appropriate for a rave, much less anything that wasn't directly involved in soliciting sex.  I wondered again what she had meant when she had said that old habits die hard.  Maybe she was someone else’s slave and Master bought her, but then why wasn't she wearing his collar and calling him Master?  Maybe they used to date and played Master/slave games... but why would anyone who could afford a half dozen slaves at a time need to role play that sort of thing?
Eventually Master snapped at Callista and she clopped daintily over to him, he gestured at Horace and Tyco who were being presented in some brief outfits, loincloths mostly.  She looked them over and even circled once around Horace, making little ooh's and ah's as she examined his physique.  
Master's eyebrow arched as he watched her try to make Horace nervous, but she eventually nodded and said the outfits were acceptable.  I got the impression then that Master had no sexual interest in the two males... not for himself anyway.  They were sent to Masters side where they kneeled on mats next to him.  I always thought it was unfair that the male slaves were told to kneel differently than the females, we were supposed to kneel, sitting on our feet with our knees spread wide and our palms face up resting on our thighs, but the males got to kneel on one knee, with their forearm resting across the raised knee, and the other hand palm down on the other knee.  That seemed more comfortable to me, but again, fairness was a long lost companion of mine.
Master took much greater interest in what the girls wore.  We were dressed in a few outfits, then he started making suggestions as he saw us presenting ourselves in various things that complimented our individual colorings. I was expecting to be dressed in loose, gossamery harem's outfits, but Master preferred tighter outfits that that complimented our figures and were no doubt quite easy to remove.  
Master customized our wardrobes slightly, Cotton wound up mostly in sheer sundresses with spaghetti straps, baby doll shirts, mini-dresses and short shorts.  Miranda would up looking a lot like a belly dancer or a gypsy when Master was done tweaking her wardrobe.  Lacy slit skirts and sarongs, choli tops and even a few lacy headdresses.  It actually looked really good on her. Master seemed to like playing dress up with his dolls. :3
Then it was my turn, Master dressed me actually a lot like Cotton, but with more emphasis on showing off my fur. Spaghetti strap tank tops, short shorts with see through lace on the sides, baby doll shirts, tight breeches.  I felt like I was in college again, only now, I had a hell of a body to show off.
Next I was modeling something a little tighter, some kind of shiny spandex (or was is latex) outfit, when Master tapped Tyco on the shoulder and pointed up at me.  Tyco looked to my Master, then to me. "So, Tyco, would you fuck 'er? And don't say, "If you ordered me to."
Tyco looked me over and caught my eye, and gave me a knowing "I already have." look, then looked back to the stallion and said, "Yes Master, she's very beautiful." 
I couldn't help but smile. They were talking about me in the basest terms, but still the compliment was nice. 
Master had us shipped a weeks worth of outfits, and we wound up wearing one outfit each out the door, filing back into the limo.  Walking the halls of the Institute, being nude wasn't even something I thought about, but now that I was in public, I felt better being clothed, even if this latex stuff clung to me as tightly as my own skin.
The vehicle was back in motion, staying off the highway, our next destination was obviously close by.  
"So... does anyone have any questions?" Our Master asked after we all got settled in.
I raised my paw, but so did Horace, and Master nodded to him.
"Uh, Master, I noticed that you didn't seem to have an opinion on Tyco's and my own clothes... do you not fancy males?"
Master nodded.  "I have to say that I actually don't, I primarily bought you and Tyco for your trade skills."
Horace sighed visibly, Tyco didn't seem to have a reaction outwardly.
"Now don't get me wrong, I could have easily bought slaves without your sexual training that had similar vocational skills, for a lot less too, not all slaves are sex slaves remember, but keeping that in mind, I will likely have uses for you two, when it comes to entertaining guests, and it doesn't hurt to have a slave or two around to trade off for an evening, if a master, male or female, has a particularly fine female slave they’re tiring of, so don't relax too much there Horace."
Horace nodded.
"Anyone else? Oops, here we are. Don't worry too much, we'll have 'the talk' when we get home this evening, and all your questions will be answered. For now, let’s get some food."
Callista opened the door and Master crawled out, then stood by the door and held out his hand to me.  I blinked, then quickly fumbled to hand him my leash, but he grinned and shook his head.
I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want to be punished for hesitating.  “Master, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want.” I whispered.
“Your paw Pandora.” Master smirked.
“Oh!  Yes Master, thank you.”  I gave him my paw and he helped me out of the limo.
“Hasn’t a gentlefur ever helped you out of a car before?” He asked, offering his paw to Cotton and Miranda.
“Um, no Master, not even when I was on a date when I was free.”  
Master grinned. “Ah, the mighty price of progress.” 
Cotton and Miranda and I stood next to each other glancing surreptitiously back and forth, silently formulating opinions of our Master as Horace and Tyco got out of the limo, unaided by the unicorn.
It was night now, and the cool breeze felt wonderful, even if it did smell like exhaust and the city.  Master bent his neck this way and that, popping it a few times.  We were in a parking lot across the street from a restaurant, it seemed like quite a nice place, much nicer than your average chain restaurant, but not quite something that required you to make reservations for your yet unborn children in the hopes that they would one day be allowed to dine there.  
We all went in, holding each other's leashes, Callista on the lead following Master.  Apparently he had made reservations, probably while we were getting our outfits.  There was a bit of an argument with the Maitre ‘d, who had prepared a table for 7, expecting 7 actual patrons, not 2 with 5 slaves, and Master was insisting that we all be allowed to sit at the table with him, instead of the pads that slaves were normally given.  
While this was going on, we stood there in the lobby, and suddenly I realized that we were drawing a lot of attention.  In the Institute, when we mingled with non slaves, they were either trainers or guards, and when they weren't Institute staff, they were guests of the Institute, who knew full well what went on there, so being a sex slave around people like that did not make me feel particularly conspicuous, but suddenly, I found myself in public, surrounded by 'normal' people.  The males were staring uninhibitedly, nudging each other and undoubtedly making lewd comments to each other, the females were generally looking us over with expressions ranging from disapproval to superior smirks, and a few were no doubt fantasizing about being slaves themselves.  In mixed groups, the males generally got in trouble for staring, and the females would giggle amongst themselves.  All in all, I started feeling really really ashamed of myself as people continued to point and whisper at us.  
I never thought about slaves too much in my previous life, when I saw one walking with her Master, I assumed that she was someone who had to do what she was doing to pay off some kind of debt, or that there was something wrong with them, that she was the kind of person that couldn't make their own decisions and function competently in the real world.  And when I saw male slaves, usually virile young males with older, wealthy lady furs, I assumed that they were willing slaves, that was their way of getting all the pussy that no one else wanted, and so what if they had to wear a collar?
I shook my head and brought myself back to my present situation.  I couldn't look anyone in the eye... not that I was allowed to, but I was just so ashamed of myself at the moment for ending up like I was now that I could only hang my head.
Master seemed to resolve the issue with the Maitre ‘d (without punching anyone though a wall, thankfully) and we were lead to a private dining room with a oblong table in it.  Master sat at the head of course, and Callista on the opposite end, then we sat, males on one side, females on the other.  The waitress, a cute gazelle handed out menus, but only to Master and Callista.
"Now, what can I get you to drink?" She addressed my stallion directly.  He glanced at her for a moment, sat down his menu and got up out of his chair and pulled the waitress aside.  Whatever he said, he said it very calmly and quietly, but when he came back, the waitress had disappeared, only to return with menus for the rest of us.  The ones she handed to us didn't have prices on them.  I wasn't sure what to make of that but Master seemed satisfied.
"Before we order, I want you all to know that I'm considering this your graduation dinner.  You may order whatever you like tonight, but don't go crazy.  The food you're used to eating is really healthy and consequently really bland, so I'd recommend you stay away from anything carbonated or anything particularly greasy.  I don't want you getting sick your first night out."
We all nodded at him in disbelief.  Anything we wanted?  Slaves were usually given whatever leftover slop the restaurant had handy, or some kind of bland gruel like what the Institute had served us, and it was usually served in a bowl at the foot of the Master's chair, but our Master had insisted that we sit at the table with him and order off the regular menu.  We looked at each other in silence, trying to absorb it.  This certainly wasn't what the Institute had taught us to expect.  I guess Master was right when he said that they prepared us for the worst.
"So let’s not keep our waitress waiting, what would you all like to drink? I myself with have some tea, my dear.  Peach if you have it."
The waitress nodded and jotted it down, then we went around the table ordering our drinks, mostly tea, Cotton ordered some apple juice, when it got to Miranda, she raised her hand, and Master nodded to her.
"Master, if it's okay with you, may I please get some... beer?" She asked quietly, obviously afraid that the question would land her some kind of punishment.
I was shocked at her audacity. Master arched one eyebrow. "Miranda, do you think that after a year of the paste and water you've been living on that your body is going to handle a carbonated, alcoholic beverage very well?"
Miranda nodded. "I'm willing to take that chance if you'll let me Master."
Master chuckled.  "Very well, but if you get sick, I'm going to punish you."
There it was... the first mention of discipline from our new Master.  
Miranda nodded again, slowly. "Thank you Master, I'll do my best to moderate myself."
Tyco raised his paw.  "Would you like some beer too Tyco?" Master asked, turning only his eyes towards him. 
Tyco smiled and nodded. "Yes Master, very much."
"Fine, anyone else?"
I have to admit, the idea of a cold beer sounded heavenly to me, but honestly I didn't think I could handle it, not on an empty stomach.  Callista innocently raised her paw.
Master's eyes narrowed at her and she started giggling.  "I'll have a beer too, do you have something light on tap?" The doe asked the waitress, who nodded.
"Light beers for these two as well." Master told the waitress.  
She nodded and scurried off while we looked at our menus.  It all looked so good, even just a microwaved burrito would have been heaven compared to the gruel we were accustomed to, and the food on the menu here seemed top rate,  even compared to the kind of dining I could afford in my previous life.  Master asked us each what we wanted, and vetoed a few things, Cotton wanted some fettuccini alfredo, but Master told her the butter would all but kill her, so she went with a salad instead.  I snorted to myself.  Rabbit food.
The waitress came back and set our drinks down. Miranda was looking at her beer like it was the Holy Grail itself, but she managed to restrain herself till we were all served.  As a wolf, she especially was aware that the alpha eats first, but Master seemed to notice her intense attention on the state of his tea.  He added an obscene amount of sweetener to his drink, then I caught a small smirk on his snout, and watched as he started stirring his tea very slowly.  I looked over to Miranda who was glancing between him and his tea and her beer.  I looked back to Master as he picked up his tea, brought it halfway to his lips, then set it back down and picked up his menu, browsing through it lazily.  I turned back to Miranda, who’s ears were pinned submissively, staring with concern at the glass of tea. I couldn’t help but giggle a little bit inwardly as I watched.  Everyone else was waiting for Master to take a drink as well, myself included, but Miranda was the only one that being particularly anxious about it.  Even Tyco with his beer seemed content to wait for Master.
Callista noticed the game too as Master continued to reach for his drink, then would stop to turn the page of his menu, causing Miranda even more anxiety, so the doe picked up her beer and sipped at it noisily, making the she-wolf glance at her.
“Mmmm, that’s sooo good.” She said, licking her lips.
Miranda chewed her lower lip and looked at her beer again, then to Master, who looked like he was trying not to chuckle, his snout buried in the menu.
I grinned and suddenly started to feel very good about my Master.  True he had been very kind so far, and even gone out of his way to protect us already, but now it was also clear that he had a sense of humor and he seemed fairly playful.
Finally Master let Miranda off the hook, picking up his drink and taking a long drink, and as soon as his lips cleared the straw, she scooped up her glass and took the smallest sip.  She set her glass down and started coughing, but licked the foam off her lips and brought the glass back up to her mouth and drank half of it in the next gulp.  The look on her face was ecstasy, when she put the glass down again, she was clutching her forehead, I couldn't tell if she had brain freeze or if her senses were overwhelmed.
"Oh God... that's SO good, thank you Master... >kaff< thank you so much."
I balked at her, she had just totally spoken out of turn, but Master just grinned.
"Take it easy there Miranda, that's the only one you're getting tonight."
Miranda whimpered and looked at her half empty beer. "Yes Master."
The waitress finally returned with some bread, which smelled heavenly, and took our orders.  Most of us being carnivores ordered meat, something long denied us at the Institute. I got a salmon steak, Miranda got quail, Cotton got her salad, Tyco and Horace got steak, Callista ordered some lasagna, and Master surprised us all by ordering a 24 ounce steak, along with a full appetizer.  I had never seen a horse eat a lot of meat before, but I looked at the leopard spots on his neck and wondered again about his heritage.  
I was starving, having skipped breakfast, so I reached for the bread, but realized I should offer some to my Master first.  
“May I serve you some bread, Master?” I asked quietly, a little worried that I was speaking out of turn.  He nodded and I cut some slices off onto his plate, then took some myself.  It was just simple multigrain bread, but it was fresh and hot and literally the best tasting thing I had eaten in a year.  I made plenty of oohs and ahs as I chewed it, which amused Master it seemed.  I found out quickly that the butter upset my stomach, so I just stuck to the bread itself.
We ate quietly, no one seemed willing to take advantage of Master's offer to allow us to speak without being addressed first.  I wish I knew what the others were thinking.  Honestly I was enjoying the bread too much to be engrossed in any deep thoughts, but I watched my Master as he ate.  He was, after all, as the Institute had taught us, the center of my universe now.  He seemed to be watching Callista with some interest, actually he was staring at her quite intently.  I glanced over to her, she had taken her hat off when we sat down, but now she was taking the bun out of her hair and let her brown locks down on to her shoulders.  She was really quite attractive.  She sipped at her beer a little, before realizing that Master was watching her.  She looked away, but kept glancing back up at him nervously.  Finally she put down her beer.  "What?"
Master kept staring at her intently.  "Oh, nothing.  Just thinking about spanking you."
She snorted a little.  "You know, making comments like that to someone in your employ might be considered sexual harassment."
"Mmm, yeah, if that person was a prude. Which we both know you're not."
"That's as may be, but, hmm, didn't you just buy a half dozen sex slaves, if I'm not mistaken?  Oh! Oh wait... here they are, right at this very table."
Master smirked at her a bit, but she continued. "Besides, I thought you'd be eager to try out all your new toys." She nudged Miranda, who didn't say anything, just looked back and forth between them.
"They're not going anywhere." He patted me on the head.
Soon our dinner salads came, and Master's appetizer, which was a huge plate of embrochettes, beef and chicken wrapped in bacon on a bed of onion rings.  The smell from the cooked meat made my mouth water.  As good as my salad was, I couldn’t help pick at it while staring at my Master's plate.  I didn't dare ask him if I could try one, did I?
He must have seen my lust for his food, because he offered one to me.  He held it right in front of my nose, I blinked and looked at the little meatball and then up at him, not sure if I should use silverware or what.  These days, I knew all sorts of things about proper table manners and etiquette that I never knew or practiced before becoming a slave, but at the same time knew that I would be expected to eat from a bowl at my Master’s feet if he desired.
“Go on.”  He waggled it in front of my face.  I folded my paws in my lap and opened my mouth and let my Master feed me.  I ate it right out of his hand, nibbling on it gingerly at first, I didn’t know if he was offering the whole thing to me or not, I didn’t want to be greedy.  I had much the same reaction that Miranda had to her beer, I was almost clutching my face, shuddering from the amazingly good taste in my mouth, even if the salt from the bacon stung my tongue a little.  
"Oh Master, thank you, it's sooooo good."
“Go on, finish it.” I smiled and ate the rest, savoring the taste of meat for the first time in a year.  He petted me and I pressed my head into his hand, then licked his fingers clean, trying not to think about what I looked like while I did it, how much it would seem to a third party that I was debasing myself, but before I finished, I caught Master’s expression.  It was a pleased smile, a surprisingly gentle look on his face, and suddenly I didn’t feel debased at all, but encouraged – pleased that I had pleased him with such a simple submissive action.
He offered one to everyone around the table, Cotton and Callista, both being herbivores, politely refused, but everyone else eagerly accepted.  He offered me another one and I scooped it up in my jaws right away, bringing my paws up to hold onto his wrist while I licked on his fingers.  He was watching me with a fairly intense look on his face.  Eventually he pulled his hand away.  "You know, if we weren't in a restaurant, I'd probably fuck you right here on the table."
I smiled at the offer, realizing that I wasn't the least bit offended or taken aback.  Actually I was quite turned on by it.  Being here, in this place, this nice restaurant, with this handsome and polite stallion who I'd be lucky to have known when I was a free fur.  Deciding I'd take a little initiative, and worry about potential punishment later, I stood up and plucked an embrochette off his plate and put it in between my teeth, then pressed my lips to his, letting his tongue take it from my mouth.  While he chewed it I moved my mouth to his ear, which I noticed for the first time, was a cat’s ear instead of a horse's (it even had a dark tip) and whispered, "Maybe there's a lock on the door."
Just then the waitress and another wait staff girl came in with a tray each, and proceeded to distribute our dinners to us.  
Master motioned for me to sit back down.  "There will be plenty of time for that later." He grinned wickedly.
I sat down, only half dejected, my hunger was stronger than my libido right now, and my salmon looked amazingly good.
Master's steak was the size of a hubcap, but he tore into it all the while continuing to eat his remaining embrochetts and even my salad when he realized that I wasn't going to finish it.  My salmon was just one bite of heaven after another, I savored every second the buttery, crumbly meat  was in my mouth, setting my fork down after each bite and really taking the time to enjoy it.  I looked around the table and the other slaves were doing largely the same thing.  Even Cotton seemed to be highly enjoying her pitiful little salad.  Well, it wasn't little, actually by the time the meal was winding down, she had only eaten half of it.  I was barely able to finish my meal, and neither of the boys could finish their steaks, despite their best efforts.  We were all just too trained to eat the measly meals that the Institute had provided us, and these full sized, multi course meals were simply too much for us.  Master on the other hand, finished his steak and to all our amazement, finished Horace and Tyco's steaks as well.  He leaned back patting his stomach.  "Now that hit the spot." He eyed Callista's mostly finished lasagna, which she immediately put her paw in front of.
"Forget it you glutton, I'm doggy bagging this."
Master shrugged.  The waitress brought the check and Master signed the bill.  The waitress seemed pleased with her tip, and held the door to the private room as we all clipped our leashes back on and headed out.  "Thanks for coming, I hope you enjoyed your meals... Uh, excuse me, sir?"
Master turned toward her.
"Can I ask your slave here something?" He nodded. She approached me and inquired about my outfit. "What's it made of?  It looks like rubber, but it has a softer shine, it looks like liquid satin." 
I kept my eyes downcast, Master had said that we could look at him when we spoke to him, but he didn't say anything about others. "I'm not sure, I think it's a kind of spandex, but it has rubber fibers in it or something."
Callista spoke up. "I think its called spantex, like a spandex latex hybrid material, don't ask me how they make it though."
"Oh, okay, it's really... sexy looking. I'll have to see if I can get some to go clubbing in." She touched my arm and rubbed the material.
I bowed my head. "Thank you Mistress."
The gazelle giggled.  "Oh my, Mistress. I've never been called that by a customer before. Thank you sir." She curtsied to my Master slightly, who nodded and lead us out.
I felt better now that my stomach was full, and the whispers in the lobby as we left didn't bother me as much; besides, we didn't linger.  We were almost to the car when Master stopped.  "Shit I forgot to get the mouse something." 
Callista stopped beside him. "Do you think she'd like my lasagna?  There's not that much left though."
"Oh, yeah, that'll be fine if you're willing to part with it, we're almost home in any case."
Callista shrugged. "I'm not that attached to it. I just didn't want you eating that too."
Master snorted and took the little box from her and we continued to the car. Once inside, Master gave it to the mouse and told her to eat it.  I'm sure she would have eaten a handful of bark mulch if he told her to.  She just nibbled at it mostly expressionless while Callista pulled the vehicle back onto the highway.
We all sat quietly, Master watched us get settled in and kept an eye on the mouse. Before long he took my paw in his hand.  “Okay, here’s a rule I forgot to tell you about.  I own you, I mean, I’m the one who paid for you, so I don’t think it’s fair to me if you all go around calling everyone you meet Master or Mistress.  They didn’t pay for you, right?”
He looked to me for a response.  I just nodded, a little doe eyed.
He patted my knee.  “Don’t be afraid Pandora, I’m not admonishing you, remember what I said earlier about the rules?”
I nodded to him. “Yes Master, we shouldn’t apologize if we break a rule we don’t know about.”
“That’s right.  My point here is that when you are addressing non-slaves other than me, call them Sir or Ma’am, understood?”
“Yes Master.” We all chimed in unison.
“However, I’m not going to get too mad if you have to break this rule.  There are a lot of people out there who are very strict when it comes to slave etiquette, and will insist that you call them Master or Mistress.  If I’m not there to tell them what I just told you, I want you to take the path of least resistance, so to speak.  I won’t punish anyone if you have to break that rule.  Am I making myself clear? I don’t want anyone of you waffling about worried about extended consequences if someone insists that you call him Master.”
“Yes Master.”
“Okay then.  I’m going to fill out some of this paperwork on you.  You guys just chill out and go back to fretting about what kind of life awaits you as my slaves.” He grinned, knowing what was running through all our minds.  “Whee, paperwork.”  Master pulled out the papers that he had taken from the raccoon at the Institute.  He scanned the barcodes at the top of the each page which transferred the contents of the page to his PDA and started filling things in.  He quickly got bored with that and put it away.  “Feh. I’ll let Marisol do this.”
Soon we were pulling into the parking garage of a building, a relatively short skyscraper, only about 35 stories, but it was the tallest building in the area.
“Everyone?” The stallion said.  “Welcome to your new home.”
The limo pulled into a reserved spot and we all got out, holding each other’s leashes.  We followed him into a nicely finished elevator and he typed a code into the panel.  The doors closed and we all stood quietly watching the floors count off.  The elevator stopped, not at the penthouse as I expected, but about 2/3 of the way up the building, on the 25th floor. The doors opened to reveal a wood paneled hall with marble floors that went both to the right and left.  There was a rather short female mongoose waiting for us, a very attractive one, with long black hair and a tight shirt and some slacks, and I couldn’t help but notice she was wearing a platinum colored collar, as well as a gold ear clasp that matched the one Callista was wearing.  She was standing next to a small box, it was about 20 x 20 CM and came up to her knee.
“Good evening Master, I take it that your shopping trip…” The mongoose paused and watched as we filed out of the elevator and knelt an arm’s length away from each other in a quarter circle.  “Six?  You bought six?  I told you could only afford four you lummox!”
All of us were taken aback buy the tone of voice that she had taken with our Master.  We watched him for his reaction, expecting him to strike her, but he just shrugged. “Don’t get your thong in a knot Marisol, I only paid for five of them.” He presented the mouse to the mongoose. “This one is a special case.  I made a big enough deal about her condition that she was practically free, you know how I can make a scene.” 
Marisol nodded.
“As for the rest of them, well, I got a bit of a quantity discount, so I really only paid for about 4 and a half.”
“That’s still more than 4, math wiz.” 
“Well, you’re so smart, I’m sure you can figure out how we can afford them all.” He smiled with a bit of a haughty grin on his snout.  She just scowled at him.  
I was stunned by how she was acting toward him.  I almost wanted to correct her myself, but of course I did nothing.  
“Besides, they all have marketable skills, except Cotton here.” He patted her on the head. “But she’s very smart, and quite trainable, isn’t that right Cotton?”
Cotton agreed without looking up.
Marisol furrowed her brow at him, obviously not convinced.
“Don’t worry, we’ll sit down and work it out.” He turned to us. “Well, shall we get down to business?”
“Excuse me sir,” Callista interrupted. “If you don’t need me anymore tonight… I’d prefer not to… be here for the next bit.”
“Sure, have a good night Callista.”
The doe stepped back into the elevator and bowed to my Master as the doors closed.
What did she mean, ‘the next part?’  Was Master about to do something terrible to us all?  Or lay down some impossibly strict rules?  I didn’t think that was the case, but Callista’s statement made me worry at least a little.
Master sat down on a bench opposite the elevators and Marisol handed him the box.  He opened it, revealing 8 chrome collars. He took one out and held his PDA up to it.  There were some beeps and he nodded.  “This collar now has your information in it Pandora.” I jumped a little at my name.  That was my collar Master was holding now.  Somewhere in the pit of my stomach I felt something between warmth and nausea.  Once that collar was around my neck, I would belong to him forever.  I did now anyway, but the collar was symbolic of that bond.  “It also has my information in it, so anyone who scans it will know who you belong to.  Pandora, please come here.”
I rose immediately and knelt in front of my Master.
“What’s your favorite color Pandora?”
I looked up at him. “My… my favorite color Master?”
He nodded.
“Um, if you’re talking about something that I’ll be wearing, I think gold looks nice against my fur… uh, I kind of like teal too, Master.”
He held his PDA up to the collar in his hand and tapped some buttons.  The collar started making a sound like something crystallizing, and the chrome changed to a shiny teal color.  He held it up to my shoulder, comparing the colors.  “I think that looks nice. Okay, good.” Master took a deep breath, looking like he was readying himself for something. “Everybody look up here, I want you to see this.”
Everyone but Marisol focused on me and Master, the mongoose seemed to be only partially attentive, like she was intentionally trying to ignore us, her arms folded over her chest and her foot twisting on the floor.  I was getting a little more scared now, wondering what had made Callista and now Marisol so uncomfortable.
Master took me by both my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “Pandora…” He swallowed. “I hope you can forgive me for what’s about to happen.”
Now I was terrified, and I’m sure it showed on my face. “M… Master?  Have I done something to displease you?” My voice was trembling.
He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and not reassuring. “No Pandora, not at all, but I need you to help me show the others something.”  He took his PDA and typed something into it.  It beeped, and so did the collar I was still wearing from the Institute.  It went lose and fell from my neck.  It’s sudden absence was more distracting than when it had been first been attached there over a year ago.  Instead of snapping my permanent collar around my neck, Master took both of my arms again and looked me square in the eyes.
I looked back up at him with trepidation.  I felt so naked without my collar, what was he waiting for?
“Pandora.  You are free.”