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Kinda.\n\nYou'll probably want to read the 'chapter 0' first if you have not already. Though I did't list it as chapter 0 because I wanted this to be a bit of a surprise. Not that anyone cares.\n\nEither way, here we go again!", "description_bbcode_parsed": "It begins. Kinda.

You'll probably want to read the 'chapter 0' first if you have not already. Though I did't list it as chapter 0 because I wanted this to be a bit of a surprise. Not that anyone cares.

Either way, here we go again!", "writing": "Collared part 1: Dorm Life\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\tGretchen told herself that she would get used to this. The dorm room was small, sure. But then her room had been, too. She’d never needed much space. She didn’t entertain much back in high school. Or ‘hanging out’ might have been a better way to put it. Or perhaps something else, god only knew with these kids today.\n\n\t‘Kids‘, she had to remind herself, that were in most cases older than her. Some quite a bit older. A good portion of them probably had jobs and were working on writing their thesis papers by now. Walking though the halls of this hallowed institution she was shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of future doctors, lawyers, engineers, social workers, teachers… basically any profession that would be worth a damn probably had some sort of representation here. That fact was quickly supplanted by another. The fact that most of them were just drunk idiots coasting by on rote. Preppy airheads who knew how to memorize answers and put them onto paper before forgetting them forever. They didn’t care. They just wanted to watch sports and drink beer.\n\n\tGretchen’s soft grey fur rubbed itself up and down on the cold drywall. At home she’d be able to comfortably lay her whole body against the cool material. Lift her leg up and down it. Feel the sensation and the sound calm her nerves. She’d have some kind of an escape, even if she felt the constant lingering dread of her parents presence looming over her.\n\n\tInstead she kept herself pressed to the wall trying to make as much fur-to-surface contact as she could while wearing a cheap tee shirt and some pajama pants. A set of cheap headphones were pressed on to her ears and matting down her curly mop of headfur in a way that made her regret not trying a straightening iron again. She sat with her open laptop on her chest and half a dozen documents open. Math homework that had been painfully easy to finish, A door dash window she had opened back when she had considered getting some food. She even had a few ‘interesting’ pictures from… ‘her’. From Hui. A cute little pixie of a girl who had stolen Gretchen’s heart this summer as her co-counselor at camp. Hui had been the first one to ever find out about Gretchen’s sick perversions, and the beautiful little raven-haired fairy of a girl had laid claim to the chubby mess of mole which was Gretchen Bergfeld.\n\n\tGretchen looked at the pictures she’d been sent. Mistress had taken them mere days after the two had parted ways and Gretchen still couldn’t bring herself to close the slideshow program when she got on her laptop. Something about that big bushy tail. Those cute, yummy lil tits. Those amber eyes…\n\n\tThat wasn’t what she was focused on, though. Not yet at least. One document was above all of the others. A PDF. \n\n\tBESM\n\n\tBig eyes, Small Mouth.\n\n\tWhen she’d first laid eyes on it the mole was hopeful that it was simply mislabeled. Her mind had danced and twirled with the idea of having harsh rules to live under even when out from under Hui’s thumb. Being told what to wear, what to say, how to act. Maybe even some kind of instructions on how to brainwash herself.\n\n\tNo such luck. No, instead it was simply a rule book for some game. One of the kinds of games people liked to play or stream on the internet. Lots of papers and dice. She’d considered getting into it a few times. The way Matt Mercer and all those others made it look it seemed pretty poggers. But, well, lack of friends killed that idea very quickly.\n\n\tNow here she was, gnawing on the cap of a cheap pen she’d likely klepto’ed away from a desk somewhere and scanning over the same entry for probably the fifth time. Hui had said it would be fun. An online game. A way for them to keep in touch. Also a way to help her get to know ‘Master’.\n\n\tHui’s Master. Her boyfriend. It’d be a lie if Gretchen were to try and tell herself she wasn’t jealous. In theory being owned by a couple was hot as hell. In practice, she’d never had a relationship before, and being thrust into one with someone who was poly and looking made her feel supremely awkward.\n\n\tIt was somewhere in this morass of thought that Gretchen felt a sudden sharp sting run down her spine. Her gut suddenly slammed into itself in a tight ball of anxiety and her legs curled up against her body instinctively. The dorm’s door had opened, and a bubbly tabby in a Shawn Mendez shirt and jeans pranced her way in. The green eyed blonde all but flounced her way up to the reclusive mole, grinning and giving a nod that was probably intended to be friendly before moving her way to Gretchen’s bed and sitting down.\n\n\t“Hey there, roomie.” the feline chirped.\n\n\t“Hi Janet.” Gretchen muttered. It was the same dismissive, annoyed monotone she’d been using since she moved in. She’d hoped the girl had picked up on the subtext of it. Janet had not. If anything, she’d only become more aggressively cheerful.\n\n\t“What’cha working on? Homework?” The tabby snickered the words and pulled herself back, digging in her bag and fishing out her own laptop.\n\n\t“Yeah.” Gretchen lied. It was so much easier than opening the door to conversation\n\n\t“You work on homework a lot, huh?” Janet continued to bubble her words as she slipped herself into the bed, pulling up the computer lid and glancing over at Gretchen again. “You know a few friends of mine invited me to a party this weekend. Really cool little underground rave. Some old warehouse up in GR. You wanna come?”\n\n\t“No.” The mole grumbled.\n\n\t“You sure?” Janet murred teasingly “I mean it sounds like a great time. Hip DJ.”\n\n\t“I don’t like music.” Gretchen grumbled\n\n\t“Cheap booze” Janet droned on\n\n\t“I don’t drink.” The mole iterated\n\n\t“Might find some cute boys…”\n\n\t“I have a girlfriend.” This time the words were sharp. Pointed. As threatening as a soft ball of submission like Gretchen could really manage.\n\n\t“Ok, then some cute girls.” The feline purred, undeterred “Look, Gretch” the tabby casually using the nickname she attempted to impose on Gretchen “this is college. You gotta come out of your shell some time. LDRs don’t work. So while I’m sure you wanna be faithful I’m also sure she knows this shit ended the second you two had some distance between you. Besides, this is college. The best years of our lives. You gotta go out and have some fun, right? Cut loose. Stop being in control all the time.”\n\n\tAt this point the mole had turned herself towards the drywall and yanked her blankets up over her head. She was done talking. Hell, she’d passed the point of being done a while ago. It was times like this she wished to hell she could ye. Though just the thought of how that would inevitably turn out turned her stomach.\n\n\tShe could hear Janet going on. Trying to justify herself and batter down the walls of her roommate’s resistance. Gretchen let her talk. Just huddled there, gazing at the same page of the BESM book on her laptop though the whole one-sided conversation. Wishing she was brave enough to reach out and grab her headphones from in her tableside drawer. As it was she could only lay there. Stunlocked, helpless and hoping like crazy that this girl would one day get the hint.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tThe day was going well for once. So much so that Gretchen almost didn’t feel like having a nervous breakdown as she hurried her too-short legs along back to the dorm. Front-loading herself with all the chemistry classes and trying to play off of her AP stuff from high school had seemed like the dumbest idea in the world when she first got settled in to things here on campus. Western Michigan University was a respected state school after all, and at first it had felt like she’d under estimated how much harder things would be here than they had been back in high school.\n\n\tBut much to Gretchen’s delight she did find that there was one key difference which set her early college life apart from the hell of high school.\n\n\tNobody gave a fuck.\n\n\tIt almost felt unfair to think it. The teachers were clearly doing their jobs. They clearly knew what the fuck they were talking about. But they weren’t pushing her. Hounding her. Babysitting her. The utter dread from parents and teachers to perform and ‘live up to her potential’ wasn’t quite as crushing. No going home to her mom giving hour-long lectures on why she should pick a better degree and find better safety schools. Ms Plynth the guidance councilor wasn’t trying to push her into being a flag girl or doing something else physical and social as a way to ‘up her resume’ for school applications. People just shut up, let her read, let her write down the answer and then kindly fuck off to give her a grade later.\n\n\tThe one thing she couldn’t escape was books. Teachers still insisted that she get books. Not all of them, but it was clear enough of them were probably making money on selling them so made sure that the students had to get the physical copy. But that wasn’t too big of a deal. Gretchen had forgotten her chem book in her room, but once she nabbed it she could walk out to the little hidden spot she’d found under a small foot bridge, a spot where she could tuck in with her laptop, her phone, her earphones and a nice long does of the sub stream from Nidonido. \n\n\tThat cute, up-pitched voice from the worlds most adorkable pokesona Vtuber was the closest thing to emotional comfort food Gretchen had these days. It was almost as cute as when Mistress talked to her over discord. Though making the comparison felt like a rather fucked-up parasocial nightmare best left to rest.\n\n\tThen again, if a cute, dweeby sparkle-covered Nidorina anthro was real, the odds that Gretchen would let her sit on her face were pretty damn high.\n\n\tThat blush little jumbled mess of thought fell away as her hand wrapped around her door knob. It stopped. Stopped again when she tried to turn again. A few hard turns and a shove and then the girl looked down to see what was going on. There was a sock on the door. One of her socks, she noticed. A nice long plaid tube sock from her dirty laundry bin. \n\n\tThe downy furred girl leaned up and listened to the door and winced. She’d seen enough porn to recognize the noises. Admittedly the lack of bad English dubbing, sound effects or creaking heavy wooden bondage gear meant that it was a porn she’d have probably turned off after the first minute. Without thinking Gretchen tried the door a few more times, shoving her slightly dumpy body into the thing while twisting the handle this way and that as if somehow it would magically force the door open.\n\n\t“God dammn it” She muttered. Shoe tip hit door, only for her to wince and shrink away from the loud noise running though the hall. A few moments later the door opened. Janet. Hot, sweaty, clearly nude as she hid her body behind the door. Some Doberman that Gretchen didn’t recognize still laying on the felines bed.\n\n\t“Sock.” Janet snapped, her cheeks flush with embarrassment.\n\n\t“I need my book.” Gretchen snapped back\n\n\tJanet ducked behind the door a few moments, then peeked out long enough to toss a thick, heavy text against Gretchen’s leg. Not in a malicious way, naturally. Even the mole girl could tell that. But the action was so fast and the door slammed behind her so suddenly that it felt as if maliciousness might have been kinder in some way.\n\n\tGretchen looked down at the book. Her head tilting. She scooped up the text for her current physics class. Absolutely not the one she needed to get any work done.\n\n\tShe sighed and turned, the mole making her way slowly down the hall. If nothing else, at least now she’d get a chance to focus on the stream.\n\n--------------------\n\n\t“Enjoying yourself, my silly lil porn addict?”\n\n\tGretchen nodded to the words. Her whole body heaved. The past month had been so intense. Hui, her Mistress, had only barely gotten the poor mole collared and already was pushing the masochistic little pervert to limits she didn’t know she had before. Making her linger on the edge of them while drowning in glorious shame.\n\n\tThat was probably why it was so hard for her to answer. It was almost impossible for Gretchen to do more than nod and mumble her agreements as she lay there. Tits out so that her camera could pick them up and show them off to Hui. It was the most she could afford to dare considering she had a roommate. But on the other hand, fuck it. The risk was part of why it was such a turn on.\n\n\tHui controlled her porn. That was one of the first rules the Wah had put into effect. It was a small thing. Something normies probably would find more silly than kinky. Every once in a while Gretchen would get a zip file from her Mistress, and in it would be clips and videos. Small bits of audio read by Hui or text-to-speech translated from some Ai character voice site.\n\n\tThe mole had to save it all. She had to keep it all on her computer. In a folder simply called ‘special folder’. A pathetic and shallow attempt to hide it which would most assuredly get her caught if anyone else got access to her laptop.\n\n\tThe most recent zip file was put in its own folder until the next one came, and Gretchen was only allowed to look at that. Everything else denied her no matter what mood she was in.\n\n\tMistress decided what turned her on. Not her. That alone was somehow impossibly hot.\n\n\tThe most recent batch, the batch she was looking at now, had so much slavery. Real slavery… or at least the kinky fucked up ideal of it. Girls and boys who were caged up and chained. Crying on auction blocks. Tattooed or branded as literal property. Slave positions, inspections little audio plays about being ‘processed’. The idea of not being a person. Really not being a person. Of being so utterly broken and possessed that you were an object in every sense. \n\n\t“You really think you’d be cute enough for us to even show off?” Hui’s chirpy tone drew a nasal groan from Gretchen as she shook he head.\n\n\t‘NoMistress” she slurred out in a nasal whine. Gretchen’s self loathing stirred more. She tried to imagine herself in some dank dingy club. Collared and leashed to Mistress… and ‘Master’ there too she supposed. The ugly shot stack mole with her chubby body displayed. Her tits out with heavy rings in them. Binders and maybe clothes that did nothing to hide her shame. A barcode tattoo. That last thought caused her to curl. Gretchen twitched on the brink of orgasm. Her fingers slamming brutally against her soft downy-furred folds. Hooking up and twisting her little claws to cause pain, to punish herself for being such a sick fuck. For wanting to be strapped down in front of a throng of the most degenerate pervs and have her owners tease her while some stranger put lines on her flesh to let anyone who scanned her know she was literally owned.\n\n\tThe spasms caused her awkward body to twitch and her dumpy little tits to flop around for Mistress. Hui’s giggle growing as she moaned and licked her lips right into the mic. “Some day I’m gonna ruin those cute titties, pet.” Hui cooed. \n\n\tGretchen wanted to protest. She wanted to refute it, to refute the idea she was cute. That she was anything more than some disposable little fleshlight. She also wanted to beg for that perfect pussy to be pushed down on her face again and held there until it fried out anything in her brain beyond worshiping those folds for her Mistress. Most of all she wanted to cum. But not yet. Not without permission.\n\n\tSo lost in the haze of lust was Gretchen that she only barely heard it though her earphones as the door started to open. She gasped, reaching up to grab her hoodie and pull it down over her chest. The fact that she was depriving Mistress of seeing her property ate the mole up inside. But getting kicked out of school would have objectively been worse.\n\n\tShe was soon laying there. Panting. Mistress, being the smart girl she was, had fallen silent. To the intruding tabby it would simply look like the sad girl was once again moping and tucked under her covers.\n\n\tIt did work. Very clearly Janet felt that way. Which was why the blonde seemed to have no compunction about walking up to Gretchen and shoving the laptop closed.\n\n\t“Ok, come on.” Janet said earnestly\n\n\t“W-what are you doing?” Gretchen yelped\n\n\t“Getting you to go out.” The tabby replied “All you do is sit on that laptop all day. It’s not healthy.”\n\n\t“I was talking to my M… to my Girlfriend.” Gretchen grumbled as she sat up. For a split second she was worried, terrified somehow the feline would notice her wet spot or pick up on the smell. Not that Gretchen wasn’t used to being the ‘smelly girl’ but this was different.\n\n\t“You’re talking to a girl on a screen who’s probably half the country away. Janet chided. “how is that a girlfriend.”\n\n\tGretchen’s nose wrinkled as she pushed herself up more and glowered. “She lives less than an hour away.” She muttered.\n\n\t“And apparently neither of you have a car. So it may as well be Canada.” Janet tugged on Gretchen’s arm and pulled herself up, reaching for the covers “It’s been over a month. Someone’s gotta get you out of bed and out of this stupid sad girl routine. Come on. I have a friend pass for the gym. We can get some dopamine going in your noggin and the maybe you’ll be ready to-”\n\n\tShe didn’t get to finish, Gretchen twisting hard. Her laptop rolled and knocked the wall. The mole quickly moving it around to ensure nothing was cracked. Once she was sure she curled up around it like some stubborn child. Hmmphing loudly and shaking her head.\n\n\tJanet paused, then sighed. She pulled herself up and shook her head. “Fine. But you gotta get out there some time. Seriously, Gretch. This is college. The best time of your life. You can’t just spend it sitting around staring at a screen. You have a whole career to do that.”\n\n\tGretchen said nothing. Soon Janet had moved off and gotten her gym bag, ensuring everything was in place before glancing back at her. “Look, let me know if you change your mind, but I’m not giving up on you. I’m just trying to help you. Trust me.”\n\n\tThe door soon shut and Gretchen rolled on to her back once more. Tears were forming on her cheeks and her whole body quaked. She looked down at the precious laptop. Trying to regain her composure before she opened it again. Mistress was probably worried. She had to be. No sense making it worse by showing back up like this.\n\n\t“Fuck.” The girl sighed. “I need out of here.”\n\n--------------------\n\n\tThis was the stop. That was what the GPS said at least. Gretchen plodded off of the bus into something out of some gang movie. Or at least, some quirky try hard Indie film.\n\n\tThe houses all looked old, and run down. A few of them had a fresh coat of cheap paint but most were flaking in ancient shades of brown or grey. Faded brickwork going up to where she presumed the basement to end with massive ragged slabs of brick or concrete or something. Each house sitting on a plot of yard so tiny she had to wonder if you could even call it that. Especially when most of them were nothing but dirt, rock and shattered asphalt.\n\n\tShe never would have done this if she didn’t have to. Honestly the only thing keeping Gretchen walking at this point was a mixture of hate for her roommate and the absolute terror of waiting around at the bus stop for a half hour. God only knew who might try to jump her in a place like this, and not in any sort of fun way.\n\n\tShe counted up the house numbers, each time growing more and more anxious that she was simply in the wrong place. The kept going up, and eventually Gretchen was aware that she was approaching what looked like a large factory. One that was, perhaps, abandoned.\n\n\tEach house brought her closer to that factory. Something that took up at least a couple blocks of space easily and which had an even worse looking set of houses resting past it.\n\n\t“This is such a stupid idea.” The girl muttered “Stupid stupid stupid girl. Stupid!”\n\n\tBy the time she had gotten to the last house, it was only due to pure momentum. The fact that she’d already come this far and she may as well look at all of them before giving in to the urge to simply run the other way and take her chances at the bus stop. Gretchen looked down at her phone, then back to the tarnished bass numbers screwed into one of the podiums on the dilapidated house’s front porch. Old brown paint, more chipped than most. Dirt lines beside the house in place of a driveway. A small ‘shed’ of a garage which looked like it was about to fall over. The address was right. This was the place.\n\n\tGod it would probably have been better if she’d just gone back to the bus stop.\n\n\tNo. She needed to do this. There was just no way to stay in this school otherwise. No way she was going to make it years into this without doing something to avoid the hell she was enduring now. She had to do it for Mistress, for her future. To get the fuck out of that god damn dorm room!\n\n\tGretchen paused her Nidonido stream. She shoved her phone into her hoodie pocket and braced her backpack on both shoulders. With a resolve that felt utterly unnatural to her the girl stomped her way up to the house. Up the rickety stairs, along the broken planks of the porch. She stopped at the door, set her backpack beside her, and knelt down.\n\n\tBare knees, knee socks and sneakers all contacted the wood. Her shoes bending as she tries to remain on both knee and tiptoe, legs apart. The mole girl pushed out her chest, puffing it as much as she could while trying to keep her posture painfully straight. Frizzy headfur fell back, revealing more of her face than she was comfy with. She reached up, rang the bell, and then bowed her head. Clawed digits gripping her elbows in a perfect mimic of one of the slave positions she’d seen among the slave training pictures Mistress had sent.\n\n\tShe kept her eyes on the ground. Kept herself ‘proper’ and in place. The mole sucked a breath as she heard the door open and saw shoes pacing up along a dirty, ancient looking hard wood floor.\n\n\t“Master, this one’s name is Slave Gretchen.” She blurted out. The practiced rote of the words and her own fear made it sound unwilling, and thus sexier than she really wanted. “It knows it is nothing more than your pathetic property. Please forgive this intrusion and allow it to speak with you, Sir.”\n\n\tThings were quiet. Too quiet. For far too long.\n\n\tThe figure didn’t move, didn’t speak. It took forever before the mole girl finally worked up the courage to glance up. Expecting to see the otter she’d thus far only known from pictures. The ‘psycho boyfriend’ Hui had alluded to back at camp, full of wrath and fury, ready to take it out on her.\n\n\tA goat stood there. Black furred and rather ragged. His headfur in dreads, his body covered by baggy shorts and an oversized tee shirt. He stood there with an almost disaffected look, slowly spooning Peanut Butter Crunch into his maw as he gazed down at her with only the most mild of confusion.\n\n\tSomewhere in the back of her head, Gretchen heard a car pulling up. The sound of tires on gravel. A door slamming. It was only when shoes hit stairs that she bothered to turn and look.\n\n\t“Ok.” The otter boy now standing behind her grumbled, something purple sticking out of the corner of his jacket pocket as he tried to jam it back in. “What the hell is going on?\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Collared part 1: Dorm Life
By TerraMGP

\tGretchen told herself that she would get used to this. The dorm room was small, sure. But then her room had been, too. She’d never needed much space. She didn’t entertain much back in high school. Or ‘hanging out’ might have been a better way to put it. Or perhaps something else, god only knew with these kids today.

\t‘Kids‘, she had to remind herself, that were in most cases older than her. Some quite a bit older. A good portion of them probably had jobs and were working on writing their thesis papers by now. Walking though the halls of this hallowed institution she was shoulder to shoulder with hundreds of future doctors, lawyers, engineers, social workers, teachers… basically any profession that would be worth a damn probably had some sort of representation here. That fact was quickly supplanted by another. The fact that most of them were just drunk idiots coasting by on rote. Preppy airheads who knew how to memorize answers and put them onto paper before forgetting them forever. They didn’t care. They just wanted to watch sports and drink beer.

\tGretchen’s soft grey fur rubbed itself up and down on the cold drywall. At home she’d be able to comfortably lay her whole body against the cool material. Lift her leg up and down it. Feel the sensation and the sound calm her nerves. She’d have some kind of an escape, even if she felt the constant lingering dread of her parents presence looming over her.

\tInstead she kept herself pressed to the wall trying to make as much fur-to-surface contact as she could while wearing a cheap tee shirt and some pajama pants. A set of cheap headphones were pressed on to her ears and matting down her curly mop of headfur in a way that made her regret not trying a straightening iron again. She sat with her open laptop on her chest and half a dozen documents open. Math homework that had been painfully easy to finish, A door dash window she had opened back when she had considered getting some food. She even had a few ‘interesting’ pictures from… ‘her’. From Hui. A cute little pixie of a girl who had stolen Gretchen’s heart this summer as her co-counselor at camp. Hui had been the first one to ever find out about Gretchen’s sick perversions, and the beautiful little raven-haired fairy of a girl had laid claim to the chubby mess of mole which was Gretchen Bergfeld.

\tGretchen looked at the pictures she’d been sent. Mistress had taken them mere days after the two had parted ways and Gretchen still couldn’t bring herself to close the slideshow program when she got on her laptop. Something about that big bushy tail. Those cute, yummy lil tits. Those amber eyes…

\tThat wasn’t what she was focused on, though. Not yet at least. One document was above all of the others. A PDF.

\tBESM

\tBig eyes, Small Mouth.

\tWhen she’d first laid eyes on it the mole was hopeful that it was simply mislabeled. Her mind had danced and twirled with the idea of having harsh rules to live under even when out from under Hui’s thumb. Being told what to wear, what to say, how to act. Maybe even some kind of instructions on how to brainwash herself.

\tNo such luck. No, instead it was simply a rule book for some game. One of the kinds of games people liked to play or stream on the internet. Lots of papers and dice. She’d considered getting into it a few times. The way Matt Mercer and all those others made it look it seemed pretty poggers. But, well, lack of friends killed that idea very quickly.

\tNow here she was, gnawing on the cap of a cheap pen she’d likely klepto’ed away from a desk somewhere and scanning over the same entry for probably the fifth time. Hui had said it would be fun. An online game. A way for them to keep in touch. Also a way to help her get to know ‘Master’.

\tHui’s Master. Her boyfriend. It’d be a lie if Gretchen were to try and tell herself she wasn’t jealous. In theory being owned by a couple was hot as hell. In practice, she’d never had a relationship before, and being thrust into one with someone who was poly and looking made her feel supremely awkward.

\tIt was somewhere in this morass of thought that Gretchen felt a sudden sharp sting run down her spine. Her gut suddenly slammed into itself in a tight ball of anxiety and her legs curled up against her body instinctively. The dorm’s door had opened, and a bubbly tabby in a Shawn Mendez shirt and jeans pranced her way in. The green eyed blonde all but flounced her way up to the reclusive mole, grinning and giving a nod that was probably intended to be friendly before moving her way to Gretchen’s bed and sitting down.

\t“Hey there, roomie.” the feline chirped.

\t“Hi Janet.” Gretchen muttered. It was the same dismissive, annoyed monotone she’d been using since she moved in. She’d hoped the girl had picked up on the subtext of it. Janet had not. If anything, she’d only become more aggressively cheerful.

\t“What’cha working on? Homework?” The tabby snickered the words and pulled herself back, digging in her bag and fishing out her own laptop.

\t“Yeah.” Gretchen lied. It was so much easier than opening the door to conversation

\t“You work on homework a lot, huh?” Janet continued to bubble her words as she slipped herself into the bed, pulling up the computer lid and glancing over at Gretchen again. “You know a few friends of mine invited me to a party this weekend. Really cool little underground rave. Some old warehouse up in GR. You wanna come?”

\t“No.” The mole grumbled.

\t“You sure?” Janet murred teasingly “I mean it sounds like a great time. Hip DJ.”

\t“I don’t like music.” Gretchen grumbled

\t“Cheap booze” Janet droned on

\t“I don’t drink.” The mole iterated

\t“Might find some cute boys…”

\t“I have a girlfriend.” This time the words were sharp. Pointed. As threatening as a soft ball of submission like Gretchen could really manage.

\t“Ok, then some cute girls.” The feline purred, undeterred “Look, Gretch” the tabby casually using the nickname she attempted to impose on Gretchen “this is college. You gotta come out of your shell some time. LDRs don’t work. So while I’m sure you wanna be faithful I’m also sure she knows this shit ended the second you two had some distance between you. Besides, this is college. The best years of our lives. You gotta go out and have some fun, right? Cut loose. Stop being in control all the time.”

\tAt this point the mole had turned herself towards the drywall and yanked her blankets up over her head. She was done talking. Hell, she’d passed the point of being done a while ago. It was times like this she wished to hell she could ye. Though just the thought of how that would inevitably turn out turned her stomach.

\tShe could hear Janet going on. Trying to justify herself and batter down the walls of her roommate’s resistance. Gretchen let her talk. Just huddled there, gazing at the same page of the BESM book on her laptop though the whole one-sided conversation. Wishing she was brave enough to reach out and grab her headphones from in her tableside drawer. As it was she could only lay there. Stunlocked, helpless and hoping like crazy that this girl would one day get the hint.

--------------------

\tThe day was going well for once. So much so that Gretchen almost didn’t feel like having a nervous breakdown as she hurried her too-short legs along back to the dorm. Front-loading herself with all the chemistry classes and trying to play off of her AP stuff from high school had seemed like the dumbest idea in the world when she first got settled in to things here on campus. Western Michigan University was a respected state school after all, and at first it had felt like she’d under estimated how much harder things would be here than they had been back in high school.

\tBut much to Gretchen’s delight she did find that there was one key difference which set her early college life apart from the hell of high school.

\tNobody gave a fuck.

\tIt almost felt unfair to think it. The teachers were clearly doing their jobs. They clearly knew what the fuck they were talking about. But they weren’t pushing her. Hounding her. Babysitting her. The utter dread from parents and teachers to perform and ‘live up to her potential’ wasn’t quite as crushing. No going home to her mom giving hour-long lectures on why she should pick a better degree and find better safety schools. Ms Plynth the guidance councilor wasn’t trying to push her into being a flag girl or doing something else physical and social as a way to ‘up her resume’ for school applications. People just shut up, let her read, let her write down the answer and then kindly fuck off to give her a grade later.

\tThe one thing she couldn’t escape was books. Teachers still insisted that she get books. Not all of them, but it was clear enough of them were probably making money on selling them so made sure that the students had to get the physical copy. But that wasn’t too big of a deal. Gretchen had forgotten her chem book in her room, but once she nabbed it she could walk out to the little hidden spot she’d found under a small foot bridge, a spot where she could tuck in with her laptop, her phone, her earphones and a nice long does of the sub stream from Nidonido.

\tThat cute, up-pitched voice from the worlds most adorkable pokesona Vtuber was the closest thing to emotional comfort food Gretchen had these days. It was almost as cute as when Mistress talked to her over discord. Though making the comparison felt like a rather fucked-up parasocial nightmare best left to rest.

\tThen again, if a cute, dweeby sparkle-covered Nidorina anthro was real, the odds that Gretchen would let her sit on her face were pretty damn high.

\tThat blush little jumbled mess of thought fell away as her hand wrapped around her door knob. It stopped. Stopped again when she tried to turn again. A few hard turns and a shove and then the girl looked down to see what was going on. There was a sock on the door. One of her socks, she noticed. A nice long plaid tube sock from her dirty laundry bin.

\tThe downy furred girl leaned up and listened to the door and winced. She’d seen enough porn to recognize the noises. Admittedly the lack of bad English dubbing, sound effects or creaking heavy wooden bondage gear meant that it was a porn  she’d have probably turned off after the first minute. Without thinking Gretchen tried the door a few more times, shoving her slightly dumpy body into the thing while twisting the handle this way and that as if somehow it would magically force the door open.

\t“God dammn it” She muttered. Shoe tip hit door, only for her to wince and shrink away from the loud noise running though the hall. A few moments later the door opened. Janet. Hot, sweaty, clearly nude as she hid her body behind the door. Some Doberman that Gretchen didn’t recognize still laying on the felines bed.

\t“Sock.” Janet snapped, her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

\t“I need my book.” Gretchen snapped back

\tJanet ducked behind the door a few moments, then peeked out long enough to toss a thick, heavy text against Gretchen’s leg. Not in a malicious way, naturally. Even the mole girl could tell that. But the action was so fast and the door slammed behind her so suddenly that it felt as if maliciousness might have been kinder in some way.

\tGretchen looked down at the book. Her head tilting. She scooped up the text for her current physics class. Absolutely not the one she needed to get any work done.

\tShe sighed and turned, the mole making her way slowly down the hall. If nothing else, at least now she’d get a chance to focus on the stream.

--------------------

\t“Enjoying yourself, my silly lil porn addict?”

\tGretchen nodded to the words. Her whole body heaved. The past month had been so intense. Hui, her Mistress, had only barely gotten the poor mole collared and already was pushing the masochistic little pervert to limits she didn’t know she had before. Making her linger on the edge of them while drowning in glorious shame.

\tThat was probably why it was so hard for her to answer. It was almost impossible for Gretchen to do more than nod and mumble her agreements as she lay there. Tits out so that her camera could pick them up and show them off to Hui. It was the most she could afford to dare considering she had a roommate. But on the other hand, fuck it. The risk was part of why it was such a turn on.

\tHui controlled her porn. That was one of the first rules the Wah had put into effect. It was a small thing. Something normies probably would find more silly than kinky. Every once in a while Gretchen would get a zip file from her Mistress, and in it would be clips and videos. Small bits of audio read by Hui or text-to-speech translated from some Ai character voice site.

\tThe mole had to save it all. She had to keep it all on her computer. In a folder simply called ‘special folder’. A pathetic and shallow attempt to hide it which would most assuredly get her caught if anyone else got access to her laptop.

\tThe most recent zip file was put in its own folder until the next one came, and Gretchen was only allowed to look at that. Everything else denied her no matter what mood she was in.

\tMistress decided what turned her on. Not her. That alone was somehow impossibly hot.

\tThe most recent batch, the batch she was looking at now, had so much slavery. Real slavery… or at least the kinky fucked up ideal of it. Girls and boys who were caged up and chained. Crying on auction blocks. Tattooed or branded as literal property. Slave positions, inspections little audio plays about being ‘processed’. The idea of not being a person. Really not being a person. Of being so utterly broken and possessed that you were an object in every sense.

\t“You really think you’d be cute enough for us to even show off?” Hui’s chirpy tone drew a nasal groan from Gretchen as she shook he head.

\t‘NoMistress” she slurred out in a nasal whine. Gretchen’s self loathing stirred more. She tried to imagine herself in some dank dingy club. Collared and leashed to Mistress… and ‘Master’ there too she supposed. The ugly shot stack mole with her chubby body displayed. Her tits out with heavy rings in them. Binders and maybe clothes that did nothing to hide her shame. A barcode tattoo. That last thought caused her to curl. Gretchen twitched on the brink of orgasm. Her fingers slamming brutally against her soft downy-furred folds. Hooking up and twisting her little claws to cause pain, to punish herself for being such a sick fuck. For wanting to be strapped down in front of a throng of the most degenerate pervs and have her owners tease her while some stranger put lines on her flesh to let anyone who scanned her know she was literally owned.

\tThe spasms caused her awkward body to twitch and her dumpy little tits to flop around for Mistress. Hui’s giggle growing as she moaned and licked her lips right into the mic. “Some day I’m gonna ruin those cute titties, pet.” Hui cooed.

\tGretchen wanted to protest. She wanted to refute it, to refute the idea she was cute. That she was anything more than some disposable little fleshlight. She also wanted to beg for that perfect pussy to be pushed down on her face again and held there until it fried out anything in her brain beyond worshiping those folds for her Mistress. Most of all she wanted to cum. But not yet. Not without permission.

\tSo lost in the haze of lust was Gretchen that she only barely heard it though her earphones as the door started to open. She gasped, reaching up to grab her hoodie and pull it down over her chest. The fact that she was depriving Mistress of seeing her property ate the mole up inside. But getting kicked out of school would have objectively been worse.

\tShe was soon laying there. Panting. Mistress, being the smart girl she was, had fallen silent. To the intruding tabby it would simply look like the sad girl was once again moping and tucked under her covers.

\tIt did work. Very clearly Janet felt that way. Which was why the blonde seemed to have no compunction about walking up to Gretchen and shoving the laptop closed.

\t“Ok, come on.” Janet said earnestly

\t“W-what are you doing?” Gretchen yelped

\t“Getting you to go out.” The tabby replied “All you do is sit on that laptop all day. It’s not healthy.”

\t“I was talking to my M… to my Girlfriend.” Gretchen grumbled as she sat up. For a split second she was worried, terrified somehow the feline would notice her wet spot or pick up on the smell. Not that Gretchen wasn’t used to being the ‘smelly girl’ but this was different.

\t“You’re talking to a girl on a screen who’s probably half the country away. Janet chided. “how is that a girlfriend.”

\tGretchen’s nose wrinkled as she pushed herself up more and glowered. “She lives less than an hour away.” She muttered.

\t“And apparently neither of you have a car. So it may as well be Canada.” Janet tugged on Gretchen’s arm and pulled herself up, reaching for the covers “It’s been over a month. Someone’s gotta get you out of bed and out of this stupid sad girl routine. Come on. I have a friend pass for the gym. We can get some dopamine going in your noggin and the maybe you’ll be ready to-”

\tShe didn’t get to finish, Gretchen twisting hard. Her laptop rolled and knocked the wall. The mole quickly moving it around to ensure nothing was cracked. Once she was sure she curled up around it like some stubborn child. Hmmphing loudly and shaking her head.

\tJanet paused, then sighed. She pulled herself up and shook her head. “Fine. But you gotta get out there some time. Seriously, Gretch. This is college. The best time of your life. You can’t just spend it sitting around staring at a screen. You have a whole career to do that.”

\tGretchen said nothing. Soon Janet had moved off and gotten her gym bag, ensuring everything was in place before glancing back at her. “Look, let me know if you change your mind, but I’m not giving up on you. I’m just trying to help you. Trust me.”

\tThe door soon shut and Gretchen rolled on to her back once more. Tears were forming on her cheeks and her whole body quaked. She looked down at the precious laptop. Trying to regain her composure before she opened it again. Mistress was probably worried. She had to be. No sense making it worse by showing back up like this.

\t“Fuck.” The girl sighed. “I need out of here.”

--------------------

\tThis was the stop. That was what the GPS said at least. Gretchen plodded off of the bus into something out of some gang movie. Or at least, some quirky try hard Indie film.

\tThe houses all looked old, and run down. A few of them had a fresh coat of cheap paint but most were flaking in ancient shades of brown or grey. Faded brickwork going up to where she presumed the basement to end with massive ragged slabs of brick or concrete or something. Each house sitting on a plot of yard so tiny she had to wonder if you could even call it that. Especially when most of them were nothing but dirt, rock and shattered asphalt.

\tShe never would have done this if she didn’t have to. Honestly the only thing keeping Gretchen walking at this point was a mixture of hate for her roommate and the absolute terror of waiting around at the bus stop for a half hour. God only knew who might try to jump her in a place like this, and not in any sort of fun way.

\tShe counted up the house numbers, each time growing more and more anxious that she was simply in the wrong place. The kept going up, and eventually Gretchen was aware that she was approaching what looked like a large factory. One that was, perhaps, abandoned.

\tEach house brought her closer to that factory. Something that took up at least a couple blocks of space easily and which had an even worse looking set of houses resting past it.

\t“This is such a stupid idea.” The girl muttered “Stupid stupid stupid girl. Stupid!”

\tBy the time she had gotten to the last house, it was only due to pure momentum. The fact that she’d already come this far and she may as well look at all of them before giving in to the urge to simply run the other way and take her chances at the bus stop. Gretchen looked down at her phone, then back to the tarnished bass numbers screwed into one of the podiums on the dilapidated house’s front porch. Old brown paint, more chipped than most. Dirt lines beside the house in place of a driveway. A small ‘shed’ of a garage which looked like it was about to fall over. The address was right. This was the place.

\tGod it would probably have been better if she’d just gone back to the bus stop.

\tNo. She needed to do this. There was just no way to stay in this school otherwise. No way she was going to make it years into this without doing something to avoid the hell she was enduring now. She had to do it for Mistress, for her future. To get the fuck out of that god damn dorm room!

\tGretchen paused her Nidonido stream. She shoved her phone into her hoodie pocket and braced her backpack on both shoulders. With a resolve that felt utterly unnatural to her the girl stomped her way up to the house. Up the rickety stairs, along the broken planks of the porch. She stopped at the door, set her backpack beside her, and knelt down.

\tBare knees, knee socks and sneakers all contacted the wood. Her shoes bending as she tries to remain on both knee and tiptoe, legs apart. The mole girl pushed out her chest, puffing it as much as she could while trying to keep her posture painfully straight. Frizzy headfur fell back, revealing more of her face than she was comfy with. She reached up, rang the bell, and then bowed her head. Clawed digits gripping her elbows in a perfect mimic of one of the slave positions she’d seen among the slave training pictures Mistress had sent.

\tShe kept her eyes on the ground. Kept herself ‘proper’ and in place. The mole sucked a breath as she heard the door open and saw shoes pacing up along a dirty, ancient looking hard wood floor.

\t“Master, this one’s name is Slave Gretchen.” She blurted out. The practiced rote of the words and her own fear made it sound unwilling, and thus sexier than she really wanted. “It knows it is nothing more than your pathetic property. Please forgive this intrusion and allow it to speak with you, Sir.”

\tThings were quiet. Too quiet. For far too long.

\tThe figure didn’t move, didn’t speak. It took forever before the mole girl finally worked up the courage to glance up. Expecting to see the otter she’d thus far only known from pictures. The ‘psycho boyfriend’ Hui had alluded to back at camp, full of wrath and fury, ready to take it out on her.

\tA goat stood there. Black furred and rather ragged. His headfur in dreads, his body covered by baggy shorts and an oversized tee shirt. He stood there with an almost disaffected look, slowly spooning Peanut Butter Crunch into his maw as he gazed down at her with only the most mild of confusion.

\tSomewhere in the back of her head, Gretchen heard a car pulling up. The sound of tires on gravel. A door slamming. It was only when shoes hit stairs that she bothered to turn and look.

\t“Ok.” The otter boy now standing behind her grumbled, something purple sticking out of the corner of his jacket pocket as he tried to jam it back in. “What the hell is going on?
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