Charlie never got out to look at the nature around her. In the past year, the beaver moved to Fairbanks, Alaska. Despite being surrounded by a vast forest she spent most of her time inside working, staring at a bright screen to the point she saw numbers whenever she blinked. The blue-light-blocking sunglasses could only do so much. While there were plenty of things to do in the state, Charlie never pushed herself to explore the surroundings. Especially in the winter, when the white blanket that enveloped everything and the hearty chill that turned her breath white became a clear sign to stay indoors. Granted she had plenty of indoor activities and groups to participate in. Some of which were more of social needs, others releases of stress in ways she feared lost when leaving California. The kink scene in Fairbanks was small in comparison, but it was more tight-knit as a result. Harder to break into but once you did they treated you like family. A family that fucks but a family nonetheless. It was for this reason she found herself driving through backroads of the Alaskan wilderness not forty-five minutes out of Fairbanks, where Patricia said she did the plowing herself. Charlie believed her with an absent nod at first, thankful the polar bear wasn’t in the car with her to hear the beaver complain about the poor results of ice and snowfall covering the trail. In retrospect her care wasn’t meant for much beyond city roads, making this whole trip a trek on wheels. But by god she needed it. The blast of her heater added to the jittery mess behind the wheel that barreled through the backroads until she spotted a small single-story house. Red walls that needed a fresh coat of paint and a roof covered in what she guessed was five inches of snow. Seeing what looked like a garage next to it, Charlie settled her car into park and leaned back, taking a deep breath to settle herself. One week. If all went right, it would be one week until she was back in this car. A small voice in her head voiced her insanity. How her stupid horny-wired brain couldn’t go through with it. She silenced it by repeating the safeword Patricia and Susan gave her in club scenes, remembering how the two older women were quick to stop at its utterance. A furry paw knocked on the glass. Charlie jolted up, eyes wide at the broad bear woman in a thick lumberjack plaid winter coat and a matching ushanka hat. Patricia waved, then made a rolling gesture for the window. Charlie pressed the button to scroll the glass down. “Find the place ok?” Patricia asked. Charlie nodded, keeping her smile closed lip so as not to expose her thick buckteeth. Something about the bear and her wife made the beaver nervous around her most noticeable trait. They didn’t seem to mind, having ways to make her show it in play. “The roads weren’t as clear as you said.” The wide white bear deflated looked around her home, and shrugged. “I can’t help it if it snowed last night. Can’t control the weather. Weatherwoman can’t even predict it by the looks of it.” “Did she get it wrong?” Charlie questioned herself halfway through speaking, leaving her tone mixed. “H-How often can you mess up snow in Alaska?” Patricia laughed, patting the roof of Charlie’s car for support. “Christ, Charlie, Christ. Truth be told, I can't remember what she was predicting. I was too distracted by her new suit. It just curved around her legs…well…” she outlined the image with her hands, “It was hard to follow her exact words. And before you judge me, Sesi was thinking the same.” “Sesi?” “Sue.” The bear corrected, “Shit. Sorry, I forgot she’s never told you her personal name. For some reason when we’re in the city, I have no problem calling her Susan or Sue, but at home, I call her by the name her parents gave her.” “Why does she use two names? Wait, should I call her that?” She answered with a shrug. “I’d just call her what you’ve been calling her before.” At the beaver’s blush, she added, “You don’t need the honorifics, girl. Christ, you are just easy today. A big old bundle of nerves. What is it? You think we’re gonna start right away?” The thought had occurred so Charlie nodded. Being pulled into play the instant she opened the door was a fantasy that, after so much play with the two women, could be a reality without much surprise. The polar bear smiled sweetly, leaning in as she spoke. “As much as I’d love to, and I’d very much love to, we’ve got a lot of rules and regulations to go over before we start your vacation. But that’s not for out here where I already feel my nose freezing. The garage is full of our cars so you’ll need to park outside. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to keep the snow off daily. I’ll meet you inside after I get firewood.” “You guys don’t have central heating?” “Course we do. I just love collecting firewood. Splitting logs clears the head.” Parked, Charlie headed indoors. The mudroom was layered with different kinds of boots, some water-proofed, others for warmer weather, and a variety of jackets that seemed fitting for a lumberjack. The fact that neither woman worked as one made the selection odd to the beaver, but she wasn’t one to judge. From the kitchen’s direction, she heard faded music and off-key singing. “You’re fucking with the boss now. You’re fucking with the boss now. Hush, hush, legs crossed, fucking with the boss now!” The singer was a caribou dressed in a baby blue and pink apron over a black dress and white blouse. Charlie knocked against the open kitchen door. Susan, or Sesi as Patricia called her, turned quick enough that the bowl of cookie dough in her grasp almost spilled. “Charlie!” “Hi, Sue,” Charlie clasped her lips tight. The older woman put her bowl down and hugged the beaver, breasts squeezing against hers. She enjoyed it, though the pear-shaped woman had other assets Charlie wanted pressed against her. “Was the drive safe? Be honest, how often did you need to turn around?” “It was fine, Sue. Patricia’s directions were solid.” “Really?” Sue asked, her head tilted in disbelief. She huffed and brushed it aside. “And you don’t need to call me Sue. Sesi is fine here. We’ve known each other long enough for it.” “Then please forgive me because I’ll mess up.” The caribou giggled and then looked at her with a soft sadistic gaze. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be calling me something else this week,” she whispered, caressing Charlie’s backside as her warm breath cascaded down her neck. “If you’ll even get to talk.” Sue’s, or Sesi’s tone hit the right spot. Charlie’s legs turned to wet noodles, forcing the reindeer to catch her. “Oh no,” the older woman laughed, “I’ve gone and done it again.” Mortified, Charlie covered her blushing face as she stood up. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to–” “Oh pish posh.” Sesi pulled those hands down, “I wouldn’t be pushing your buttons if you didn’t like it. I’m not that much of a sadist. Now why don’t you go have a seat in the living room? Dinner won’t be ready for another hour and these cookies aren’t going to make themselves.” “Is there anything I can do to help?” Charlie asked, having not baked cookies since she was a child. And that was less baking and more hovering behind her mother to lick the spoon. But she was an adult now, and adults offered. “Appreciated but no thanks. The kitchen’s my domain and you’re a guest. There’s water in the fridge, cups in the cupboard next to it.” After pouring herself a glass from their filter, Charlie took a seat on the nearest couch in their living room. The walls were littered with pictures of the two through the decades, from their dating photos, marriage, honeymoon, and vacations. None of the smiles felt forced, though Sesi seemed to be rolling her eyes whenever Patricia made a pose to emphasize something in the photo, such as when she spread her arms wide at the Grand Canyon. They were younger than her when they married. The more she tried not to think about it the stronger the thought grew. She wasn’t dating anyone. Charlie’s last relationship was in college and learning she was some unicorn for her partner made it difficult to date again. It wasn’t because she was a third member, that’d be awkward given how the couple whose house she stood in played with her. It was the lies and paranoia that came with it. Add that on top of the difficulty in finding another queer woman made she found it fortunate that Patricia and Sesi found each other and made it work for more than twenty years. The beaver traced her finger fondly over the marriage photo, wondering for a moment what it’d be like to have a partner by her side for so long. “Happiest day of my life.” Charlie snapped around to see the polar bear standing behind her. Her plaid winter coat was replaced with a matching sweater for her husky frame. She crossed her arms, craned her head, and smiled warmly at the photo. “Did you know I was going to wear a suit? I was never much of a dresses gal, my grandpappy argued I was too close to a boy that the doctor must have swapped my cock for a cooch. Bit insensitive but he meant well, and I didn’t mind being butch.” But that dress.” Patricia pulled the picture off the wall. The white gown was stitched with snowflake designs that painted the bear as some sort of queen of an icy fiefdom. “It was her idea. I like wearing a suit, but something about shopping for one on my wedding day just felt off. When she told me to help her pick out a dress I was confused. I was raised to think that the bride didn’t do that with the groom. But I guess I was too in my head on my role. God I got so weepy when she surprised me with a dress my size. I was like ‘Sesi, ain’t that too big?’ and she was all, ‘Course it is. We’re here for you!’” “Wow…” Charlie caught herself at a loss for words. She wasn’t sure what could be said to emphasize how magical the event must have been. Patrica nodded with her silence knowingly. After a long moment, the bear took a deep breath, released it, and put the frame back on the wall. “So, ready to see the bunker?” “Right now?” Charlie asked, pointing to the ground thinking the bunker was underneath them. “Right now,” Patricia nodded. “What about Sesi?” “She’ll be busy cooking. Besides, I can tell you’re getting antsy. You twitch a lot before play.” Had she been twitching? Charlie nodded regardless, clutching her wrists as she followed the ursine woman to the basement. “You have a lovely house,” she said along the way, her heart racing as she descended the steps. “Thanks. Belonged to my granddad. It’s how we have the bunker.” “Was he some crazy prepper?” Charlie clasped her maw shut for fear of having said something stupid. Patricia just laughed at the bottom of the stairs. “I thought as much. But when you’re worried about nuclear annihilation I suppose you’ll do anything.” Basements were rare in Alaska. Charlie wasn’t sure why, having learned most residents had above-ground cellars. Patricia seemed to be the exception with her concrete storage room packed to the brim with consumable supplies, from protein shakes to paper towels and cooking oils. Behind the staircase was a thick metal door that, despite the ease Patricia had in pulling it open, carried a heft to it that only solid steel could. Their footsteps echoed down a hallway that Charlie realized wasn’t built for Sesi’s antlers. Her hair bristled in excitement at the next door, revealing the glossy rubber-padded floor of a homemade dungeon. “Before cancer got him, my grandpa figured he’d be spending his life down in this bunker so he tried to make it as livable as possible. When I inherited the house, I kind of let it go to waste without much of an idea of what to do with it. Sesi thought about the redecorations.” Charlie felt like she walked into another world. From cottagecore to German dungeon porn. The furniture was black and glossy, from couches to bondage horses, X-crosses, and chains that hung above their heads. Upon closer inspection the chains were latched to a railing system that she noticed traversed the entire ceiling, allowing one locked by it to be pulled around in suspension. Impact toys from beginner-friendly to devastating studded or dice-decked paddles lined the walls alongside excess restraints and sex toys. There were three rooms not including the main living room and the bathroom. The one furthest down the hall was what Patricia dubbed as the domme dressing room, filled to the brim with latex and leather gear on hangers. Some of the outfits she’d seen them wear at parties were present, including the polar bear’s favorite peaked cap. But the other two rooms were, as Patricia explained, former guest rooms turned into holding cells. The doors were replaced with cell bars she tried to peer through, only to have them bump into her face when Patricia opened the door. “Careful, dear.” She chuckled, pushing the beaver’s eager butt inside. The floor was coated in black rubber, the kind she’d seen in ice rinks. The room was sparse of comforts save for the single-size mattress propped against the wall with black and studded straps hanging off the side. “We’ve had a few guests spend the night here.” The word, “Really?” Shot out of her mouth before she realized how she sounded. Of course, they’d had guests before. She wasn’t their first play partner, and as much as she might have liked it, Charlie doubted she’d be the last. Patricia nodded. “Yup. Never a long stay. Longest was an evening and boy what an evening it was. Cherry, the anteater at the last party, spent the night writhing in restraints with a vibe.” Licking her lips the polar bear towered over Charlie, pushing her against the wall with her presence instead of her hands. “Bound by straps, then a sleeping bag, face locked behind a gas mask so that you couldn’t tell who it was. She was our perfect little prisoner for the night.” She arched the beaver’s face up to hers. “Same setup in the other room. Sesi wants to have two little captives locked down here, silently mewling at each other for a signal that they weren’t alone. It’s a shame we’ve only got one tonight, so hopefully you won’t go insane.” Heart racing in her throat, the beaver gulped before forcing herself to speak. “W-What about safety?” She didn’t want to ask that question, preferring to lose herself to the fantasy, but it was important. The polar bear’s sadistic grin vanished to a soft smile for a moment. She pointed to a camera in the corner. “It’s a live feed from our bedroom. Also got it set up as an app on the phone in case I need to check on you outside the house. Though we’ll always be sure to have someone in the house with you. As for other safety measures.” She moved away, allowing Charlie to breathe while her host scrounged around the room. “This little remote is something we’ll lock you with,” she tossed a white remote to the beaver, still attached by a long cable. It just had a single big red button. “You press it and we’ll get an alarm that you need to get out. It’s basically your safeword in the suit.” “Has anyone ever used it? What if you don’t hear it?” “Loads of times. Safety first.” Patricia said, rubbing her chin in thought for a moment before an evil grin propped up her lips. “As for not hearing it. Go ahead, try it out.” After a moment of brief hesitation, Charlie pressed the button. An ear-splitting beep, not unlike one from an emergency horn in a factory, roared from the house. So loud was it that it barely faded from the hallway’s direction, unlike Sesi’s response who cursed up a storm. “Sorry love!” Patricia said, laughing enough to point out she wasn’t. “Charlie needed to be sure.” “Warn me next time!” Sesi screeched, “I almost dropped the goddamn stew. Fucking son of a bitch.” Charlie tried to apologize but Patricia held her hand out to tell it was alright. She’d have spoken if not trying to contain her laughter. Finally, she let go, crumpling forward to hold herself standing as the giggles escaped her. Like a balloon deflating. “Don’t you think that was a little much?” Charlie asked, still holding the remote like it were some murder weapon she didn’t know what to do with. Patricia looked at her like she’d spoken a foreign language, then smiled and shrugged. “She’ll get back to me later. Or I’ll apologize and give her a nice massage as compensation. When you’re married for so long you tend to figure out each other's methods.” She didn’t quite understand it, but that may be because Charlie was a social wreck in her day-to-day life. Regardless they were done in the basement for now. Back upstairs she found bowls of stew and a, not so much livid but evil eye staring Sesi, waiting for them. A quick hug and kiss from her wife seemed to help her relax, but there was a whisper between them that it would be settled later. Having never been a stew person, Charlie found herself a little lost on what to say. Potatoes, mushrooms, turnips and…she blinked, scouring the dish with her spoon. “Where’s the beef?” “Goddamn it,” Sesi said, rolling her eyes while her wife tried not to laugh. “You told her it was beef stew?” “I didn’t say shit,” Patricia said. “It’s a vegetable stew, dear. My wife may not be vegan but she indulges in my tastes every so often.” “So long as it's not that fake meat stuff. They act like it's a meat substitute but it’s just substituting flavor for salt. Practically dying whenever I eat it.” Charlie, mustering little more than an acknowledging grunt, continued eating. The two older women looked concerned but said nothing, at least not at first. They propped up conversation topics while the beaver ate in silence. It was not as though she didn’t want to talk. She just had nothing to say about the weather or kink community drama. The cornbread was divine though. She wondered about complimenting Sesi for it. “So, what’re you gonna tell your coworkers about your vacation?” Patricia asked, leaning in with a toothy grin. Sesi looked to shove her for the question but the bear proved too big to shove. “Come on, I’m itching to hear your excuse. For fun.” Turning red, Charlie gulped down her stew-soaked cornbread. “It’s…well I told them I’d be heading to a spa.” She started scratching the back of her head for a growing itch, unable to look the woman in the eye. “A spa?” Patricia asked, intrigued. Sesi leaned in as well, hanging on the bear’s arm. “Did they ask for details?” “You don’t need to answer, dear. She’s just looking to tease.” The beaver nodded but pushed herself anyway. “I had to do a quick Google on spa stuff. Lots of massages and fur treatments. A sauna sounded nice but I don’t know if its full week nice.” “Oh,” Sesi popped her hand up, “There’s a sauna not too far away from here.” “There is?” “Yup!” The caribou nodded, “It’s owned by my uncle. On the surface, it looks like a big igloo.” “It’s a little…uh…” Patricia slapped her lips, looking to Sesi for comfort to which the caribou nodded. “It’s a little too thematic on the native stuff if you ask me.” “He’s playing up to the crowd.” “Doesn’t make me feel like any less of a colonizer when walking in there.” The bear pulled her wife in for a hug, “Especially when I’m laying with a native woman.” Charlie continued to watch the couple banter in ways only decades of loyalty allowed. She tried to suppress her envy, both because she did not see herself in a relationship like that so soon, and because she didn’t ever want to ruin what they had by injecting herself further. The beaver was happy to play with them under whips and chains, to kiss their boots and thank them for the delightful torments that rocked her body and soul. “Hey,” Patricia pulled Charlie back with a snap of her fingers, “Earth to Charlie. You ready?” “Ready?” She replied, heart-stopping with her face red when they both nodded. “Oh. Y-Yeah.” One look at the table made her pause, “Let me help you both clean up first.” “Oh, there’s no need, dear.” Sesi stood up and circled the table, firmly massaging the beaver’s shoulders as she leaned in to speak softly. Her tone was as warm as the sun but clamped her throat shut. “Why don’t you be a good girl and wait for us in the bunker? Properly.” If steam could escape her ears they’d be screeching. Charlie popped up from the chair and speed-walked to the basement. Needing Patricia to open the door she opted to pace in place as the bear unlocked it and set her on through with a smile and a wink. Once down in the bunker-turned-sex dungeon, she stripped, discarding her clothes into a clump until naked, then folding them in an orderly pile before kneeling beside the door. Back straight, chest out, head down, legs spread, and hands palm up. The perfect nadu position. She waited. Time passed agonizingly slow, but she refused to break her position. She’d never read Gor beyond the basic description but the two women preferred she learn the stances. Her chest fluttered at the word. Slave. Ignoring the moral issues with the concept, Charlie fantasized about the life of being another’s property. Their living object meant to serve and were rewarded with tight pleasure. She’d sleep in a cell not too dissimilar from what her play partners had shown her, waking up every morning to the sound of metal doors clanging open. The fantasy helped her ignore the still air on her tight nipples or the heat emanating between her legs. Patricia and Sesi took their time cleaning, arriving to a beaver shivering in lust for their attention. Both women presented their feet forward without a word. Charlie kissed without question, silently thanking them for the gifts she was about to receive. By her headfur, Sesi guided Charlie to a couch where she rested on her wife’s lap as the beaver bowed her body forward in surrender. “What do you think we should do?” Sesi asked. “Well, she’s…” the bear yawned. “Fuck. I thought I’d be more awake for this.” “You’re not alone. Shall I make us some coffee?” “No. Don’t want to mess up my heart rate. Besides, this gives me an idea. Why not have our little bitch here enjoy her first night in the cells right away? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, would you,” A heavy boot pressed firmly against her skull for emphasis with the final line, “Bitch?” Charlie’s first words trembled with excitement so she let herself breathe before answering. “I would be happy and honored to spend the night in both of your care.” The bunker was the reason she took the vacation after all. They had plenty of time for play, but if she couldn’t stand one night in the bunker then it would hamper her trip. Patricia raised her foot free. Charlie, not willing to raise her head without permission, guessed she was smiling when the bear left for the backroom. Sesi meanwhile urged the beaver to straighten herself. The caribou walked around her, reaching from behind to trail circles around their guest’s nipples. They were cold in comparison to the bunker’s still air. Cold and eager to be pinched. Charlie didn’t hide her smile as she winced and gasped. At Patricia’s return, she was ordered to stand. Heavy hands soaked her fur with lube and then eased her into the latex material. They started with her arms, tugging and pulling to get the creases as thin as possible. When she tried to make a first Charlie realized the latex was more restrictive than what they brought to parties. “Guests get the good stuff,” Sesi whispered, “Sixty instead of twenty-five. From experience, I know you’ll be able to move just fine, but you’re gonna feel stiff about it. Like fighting against weak but unbreakable rubber bands.” “Except the suit is breakable,” Patricia added, pulling the beaver’s leg into a sleeve. The latex squeaked through the process. “Though I doubt a good girl like you will try to ruin it.” She would never. Giddy at the tension and weight of her second skin, Charlie shot her hands out when they requested her wrists. Patricia locked heavy leather cuffs to each as Sesi zipped the back of the beaver’s suit. Next was the latex hood that compressed her headfur and weighed on her face, robbing her of any identity save for her flat beaver tail. A thick latex collar big enough to border on being a posture collar was latched around her neck. She welcomed its heat as though it were a constant hug. Thanks to the hobble chain at her ankle cuffs the latex beaver followed the bear slowly, with Sesi behind in case she fell. The cell door rattled open. Behind it lay an open leather sleep sack where the two women helped her lay down. Her arms were threaded through internal sleeves and the hobble chain was replaced by a single link buckle to keep her legs together. “This next part is gonna feel weird, so open your mouth and take a deep breath,” Patricia ordered while Sesi opened the gimp suit’s crotch flap. A sudden burning sensation, followed by the urge to pee, swelled in the area. Patricia didn’t let go of the gimp’s neck until her wife said so. Peering down the gimp’s eyes widened underneath her hood at the sight of a long clear tube from her urethra to an empty medical bag. Now she had no reason to move. “Someone’s happy,” The bear chuckled, noting the gimp’s smile. She stopped the beaver from closing her mouth, “Ah, ah, ah, hold on. Want to give you one last gift before we seal you up.” Charlie tasted Patricia’s breath the moment their lips locked. The bear’s tongue lapped and dragged throughout her mouth, exploring every inch she could. Sesi did the name with barely a moment’s break between them, suckling the beaver’s own and spitting into her held-open maw when finished. A gurgle bellowed up from the beaver’s throat. They met it with soft laughter, one heavy paw patting her cheek as the other held her steady to ensure she was alright. Then came the mask. It was made from black heavy rubber that stretched over her scalp. The single air cartridge weighed enough for her to feel it constantly. To her surprise, hidden behind thick lenses that were shaded, there was a built-in gag inside. It didn’t reduce her breathing by any noticeable difference, but it was sufficient in garbling her words of praise when the older woman clipped the straps to her head. “She looks so snug, doesn’t she?” Sesi said after zipping the sleep sack closed. Patricia nodded, taking her wife in one arm as the two admired their work. Their willing prisoner. “We need to invite more people for this. The second cell being empty is just a waste.” “In time, Sesi,” Patricia sighed the way one did when they grew tired of agreeing. “In time. Why don’t we head to bed? Give her some privacy.” “You go on ahead. I’ll just make sure everything’s secured.” The caribou said, slapping her thick wife’s ass as the polar bear turned. Thanks to the mask Charlie couldn’t see what her host pulled from the corner until she felt something heavy and warm over her ears. Headphones. She thought they were noise-canceling ones but Sesi spoke clear enough to prove that wrong. “Sleep well, love.” The caribou held her head close, planting her lips against Charlie’s forehead. The rubber was too thick to feel anything other than the pressure. On her leave, she turned out the lights. The beaver lay still in her bindings, silent save for the filtered breaths and the strain of latex and leather made with each one. More sounds appeared the longer she stayed. Chains jingling, the hushed push of the air filtration system, and the subtle creaks from the bed. There was no clock to tell her the time, no way of knowing how long she was done there until her hosts granted her the mercy of a checkup. Bound serenity. Something clicked in her ear before Charlie could drift away. Soft murmurs and wayward breaths sounded off, growing louder with a hint of wetness. Kissing. The crack of flesh, lustful growls, and flirty sighs entered her mind, followed by grunts of pleasure and short cries of praise. It took her a moment to realize this was a direct line to their bedroom. She mewled into her mask but no one could hear her cries. No one was there to parse out the frustration and the joy. No one but her, the couple’s gimp toy.