Vayal Academy

Vila takes Alyx straight to her depressing, sparse room — where Alyx sees there’s a new addition: a length of chain fastened to the wall, ending in the very same flower-speckled collar of woven roots that she once gifted Vila.

Knowing exactly what’s about to happen, she tries to turn around, bolt out the door on all fours, but the moment Vila calls “heel” the muzzle strips her free will away and her body moves on its own. Useful data, at least. (Slim consolation, right now.)

Vila fastens the collar tight around Alyx’s throat. It’s too tight; it pinches the flesh. But Vila doesn’t care. She doesn’t care a bit. Finally, finally, Alyx is hers. All hers. No longer is she forced to watch her arm in arm with the fat Restorationist or the Orc. From now on, she’ll stay right here, right where Vila wants her, where Vila can have her whenever she pleases. That’s how it’s meant to be. How it should’ve been from the beginning. She never should’ve let the deer set the terms of their relationship.

“You look ridiculous,” she says. “A dog in people clothes. Well, you won’t be needing them.” With her razor sharp claw she tears Alyx’s sweater, her blouse, her tie, her skirt, her stockings, her bra, her panties. All of it. All reduced to fabric. The only thing she keeps on her is the muzzle, of course.

Naked and shivering, Alyx stares up at the mountain lion looming above her. Unable to countenance the humiliation, she begins to stand, but Vila stamps down hard on the chain and sends her face crashing into the ground, the shock reverberating through the muzzle and into her skull.

“No, mutt. You aren’t in charge anymore. You aren’t anything anymore. You’re a mangy, rabid stray, and you should be thanking me for giving you a roof over your head and a bowl to eat out of. In fact, you shall. You shall thank me, now. Speak.”

Still held tight against the ground, Alyx keeps her mouth shut and her hatred burning.

“Bad dog.” Vila’s foot meets her stomach like a thunderclap, the pain numbed by shock for a moment before the damage sinks in. It’s everything she can do to not collapse. “Oh, who am I kidding. You’re used to violence, aren’t you? Used to fighting with the other strays?” Vila crouches down, swapping foot for paw on the chain, keeping Alyx’s head down as she positions herself behind her. Her other paw caresses Alyx’s soft, furred cock, begins to stroke with the same gentle attention she did when their roles were reversed and it was Vila who wore the collar.

“You’ll ignore every beat of the stick against your hide. You need incentive. You’re lucky I’m so generous, so merciful.”

This is the first time in Alyx’s life she’s ever tried to will herself to stay soft, which explains why she loses that battle so quickly. Frustratingly, maddeningly, Vila is exactly right — it’s harder to focus on her hatred, now, as Vila presses her hips against her ass and reaches down, strokes tenderly. Then the lion’s head is by her ear, hot, whispered breath assaulting her in waves.

“Do you know how easy it would have been for the Mystic to disable the suppression field? I could have killed you in there, and the Academy would record it as a freak, regrettable accident — most would blame you, for thinking you could stand against me, First Year that you are. You owe me your life. Say thank you.”

Her paw moves faster, and Alyx starts to shiver. She doesn’t do this. That’s always been the rule. She reaches back to grab Vila’s wrist, but the moment her fingers close around it her tormenter, in the steely, certain voice that can only come from holding all the cards, says “stop,” and the muzzle strips her control away, forces her hand back to the floor.

It’s just not fair. When Alyx had Vila drooling and dripping for her, had her trained to respond to commands without hesitation, she didn’t need to cheat. She needed nothing more than herself and her magic. But Vila, no, Vila needed help. Needed to go to Syrene, and Indel, and fuck, fuck, fuck, Alyx really should’ve listened to Hattie, really shouldn’t have brushed off her concern. It’s just, well, who ever expected her Kitty to be a threat?

Her control slips further. She can’t stop herself. She starts thrusting her hips into Vila’s paw, and the cougar grins and coos. “Good puppy. You want to cum, don’t you?” Mostly she wants to pin Vila down and punish her properly, but with that clearly off the table, yes, she has to admit — has to nod her head, so as to avoid the humiliating voice filter on this fucking thing — that this is working her up something fierce.

“Now stop.” Alyx’s body once again responds to the command without any input from her. Vila’s paw slows, her grip relaxes, and now it’s just the faintest movement along her cock — so close moments ago, the sudden denial drives her insane. “You want to cum? Then speak.”

No. There are lines. She needs her dignity more than she needs to cum. And Vila will slip up, she will, and when she does Alyx will get to cum as much as she wants, whenever she wants, wherever she wants.

This defiance is all well and good, but it starts to crumble as Vila’s paw keeps moving, the desperation building against her mental dam. It threatens to overwhelm, but as Alyx scrambles for a way out, she can’t find one. Her body has betrayed her. She needs to cum.

“Arf,” she whispers, quiet and hoarse.

“I can’t hear you,” Vila says, hand now not moving at all.

“ARF!”

When she tightens her grip and jerks her off properly, it only takes a few moments for Alyx to cum, splattering the tile floor as an unfiltered moan escapes her. There’s no time to enjoy the release, the relief, because Vila drags her around by the collar and angles her face at the new puddle. “Bad dog,” she says. “You made a mess. Be a good puppy and lick it up.”

There’s my chance, she thinks, because how can she possibly do that with the muzzle on? But instead of removing it, Vila just forces her head lower, and to her shock the muzzle passes through the floor and her lips touch the puddle of cum. Which is all they’ll do, Alyx is determined, because she-

“Lick.”

And then she’s licking. It’s disgusting and humiliating and everything she didn’t want. It’s not enough, the first humiliation, no — Vila holds her there until the puddle’s gone.

The mountain lion leans up against the wall, spreads her legs, and rolls her stockings down. “Since you’re using your tongue anyway,” she says, yanking the chain and pulling Alyx over to her. “Go on.”

After everything this is practically a day off, so to speak — Alyx has always loved going down on Vila, always loved making her moan, making her shudder. But, lest she think the torment is over, Vila forbids Alyx from hooking her hands around her thighs, forces her to stay on all fours with her head craned down like she’s eating from a bowl. To distract from the ongoing awfulness, Alyx wonders if it feels strange, having the muzzle phased through Vila’s crotch. (It’s more like a mild tingling that, if anything, makes the whole affair even better.)

“Good girl,” she coos, because at the end of the day as strange and obsessive as her love might be, as bizarrely toxic as it might manifest in this moment, the only reason Vila is doing any of this is because she is utterly besotted with the deer before her, never wants to be apart from her again. “Good girl. If you behave, maybe you can sleep in the bed with me tonight. Would you like that?” Vila’s claws scratching the back of her head make Alyx’s stumpy deer tail — totally against her will — sway side to side.

Even in this state, Alyx is as good at this as she’s always been, and it’s not long before Vila’s shaking, struggling to keep herself composed. Seeing her opportunity, Alyx brings her hands up, and this time nothing stops her from digging into Vila’s muscled thighs and pulling her crotch against her face. She services her like she would Hattie, or Mae, someone she really, deep within her soul, adored. And it works.

Vila presses her head against the wall and gasps. She screams, “I love you, I love you, I love you!” Alyx makes no reply but to bury her face deeper, to swirl her tongue faster, wetness spreading across her chin. “Yes, yes, I love you, good puppy, good puppy, good-”

Her thighs clamp hard around Alyx’s face; Vila yanks down on the chain to keep her firm as she cums, whole body vibrating from the force of it. Her lithe, muscled body crests to the side, hitting the floor with panting exhaustion.

Quicker than Vila can anticipate, Alyx wrenches her head up and the chain slips from Vila’s grasp. She’s on her in a second, hand clasped over her mouth so Vila can’t force any verbal commands out. Distracted by need, though, she doesn’t press the advantage — all she does is line herself up behind the lion and plunge into her, fucking her beneath her skirt.

Vila weighs up what to do. Certainly she shouldn’t let this slide. It’s up to her when Alyx gets the utter bliss of her — she always hated how the deer could make her bend over whenever she wanted, when she ought to understand what an incredible privilege it is to fuck a woman as beautiful and sexy as Vila, a woman who spends so long exercising to maintain her perfect figure. But, on the other hand, Alyx is already inside her, and it already feels so good, and clearly the humiliation has been good for the deer, at the end of the day, because she’s never moved her hips so fast before.

I’m gonna cum on your ass, Alyx says, which comes out as “grrr, bar-WRUF!” You can put whatever the fuck you want on me, but you’ll still be my Kitty, and I’ll still fucking use you, which comes out as “Arf, ARF, gruuu-wuff, wuff, wuff!”

Forced to rely on non-verbal means of getting this message across, she slips her fingers into Vila’s mouth and starts thrusting with them, knowing Vila’s taken her point when her tongue starts gliding over them.

Vila starts to throw her hips back in time with Alyx’s thrusts, reduced to a state of pure need. I have the muzzle, she tells herself, reassurance that, no matter what, she can take back control in an instant. So really, it’s not even like she’s lost control here. It’s just that she’s choosing to reward Alyx, who’s been so good, and to reward herself, who’s waited for this for weeks, weeks where Alyx was cavorting about with that fucking Mae Maiven. Who she already repaid, long ago, which makes it unthinkable that Mae would monopolise so much of Alyx’s time. Alyx’s precious time, which should be spent like this, with her.

Although they’ve both just cum, Vila does so again, hips pressed as far into Alyx’s as they’ll go, body tightening around her — enough to bring on Alyx’s own orgasm, so sudden and unexpected that she doesn’t keep her promise, and instead spills herself directly into Vila’s womb.

The two collapse together, side by side. Vila shifts — Alyx’s cock falls out of her and cum trails across her thighs. “Naughty puppy,” she says, stroking Alyx’s hair. “You’ll need to clean that up.”

She does. Vila gets her third orgasm of the night, and Alyx gets no closer to breaking free of this whole fucking mess.