Trouble's
Tales
Sahajoli
by Kittiara
Stardate 2397.75
Sahajoli
Trouble smiled as the bell rang. The sit-up bench was particularly cruel in her estimation, especially given the Academy's variant. Like most "torture" devices of its ilk, it was slanted back at about a thirty degree angle, with your head at the floor, and your knees the highest point. Like most, it had soft foam cylinders to go behind your knees, and soft foam cylinders to press into your shins, holding your legs in place as you struggled to raise your body. Unlike the more standard variants, the Academy version was not a simple padded board, but a Y. Trouble's knees perhaps were not obscenely spread, physical limitations being what they were, but they were wide enough spread so that the Instructor monitoring her progress could "encourage" her to greater levels of performance by applying the business end of her quirt to Trouble's quim. Trouble was quite sore as she disentangled herself from the device, and it wasn't just her stomach muscles that were complaining.
As she turned to join the others, to form up into the coffle, one of the guards intercepted her. "Not you, Spotty. You go in there. Seems you've been nominated for an 'advanced' class."
Trouble followed his gaze, her eyes widening as she realized that he was indicating the double doors to the Kegel exercise room. "But ... Master, I've passed that course! I've been keeping up with my exercises! I haven't slacked off, honest!" The guard swatted her on the can. "DON'T talk back! I didn't say you hadn't; I said you'd been nominated for the advanced class. Now get your ass in there, before I decide to whip you for your insolence!"
Trouble knelt in the empty room, in her usual place, waiting. Did this mean she was no longer in the "Erotic Dress" class she'd been attending? Or were they just shifting her schedule? With a sigh, she decided on the whole, she'd miss that class. The latex and rubber outfits were pure hell over fur, but the silks and diaphanous materials were heaven, even if they did make her blush. Hearing the door open behind her, Trouble checked her posture ... knees spread, back straight, head bowed, wrists on thighs, palm up ... no, she hadn't been caught again ... when the noise faded, the doors closing again, she listened for a minute and then snuck a look around. Grinning, Marla winked back. Kayla, just beyond the wolf fem, looked as disgusted as ever. Got to be an act, Trouble thought to herself; I know she likes this kinda thing ...
Two other slaves were dropped off, a slim ferret and a rather ... "Rubinesque" lady bear. A few minutes later, the Instructor, the same Rotweiler Bitch, strode in. With a sigh she looked over her pupils. "This, believe it or not, is the collection of the most promising students, in this area, that the Academy has to offer me. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel! I'm not going to waste my breath telling you why you're here. The film relates it much better than I ever could. Watch, and we'll discuss it when its through. Remember; when we finish this class, you will be able to do everything she does! Feel free to move around and examine the holo from whatever angle you choose. This is an ADVANCED class and certain liberties are permitted."
The lights seemed to darken all of their own, and the characteristic flicker of a holographic projector starting up formed on the mat about four feet in front of Trouble. Holding her position as the others scooted around to see better, Trouble found herself roughly face to face with a petite brown mouse, kneeling as she was. This one, though, looked a little older than the typical Academy student ... and a little more worn. There was something about her demeanor ... her nose still bore its classic Academy ring, but both her nipples and both her labia were pierced as well. Bending over to kneel, Trouble peered at her sex, and then sat back wide-eyed. There was a ring poking from between her labia, at the front; either her clit hood, or her clitty itself had been pierced. A paw appeared from off-camera, turning to show a stack of metal disks, and Trouble suddenly recognized the disks as antique gold coins. The stack was carefully pushed up into the mouse's quim, absolutely no emotion showing on the mouse's face. At a spoken command, the mouse began to eject the coins from her sex, one by one. Trouble's eyebrows went up and she marveled at the control that would let the mouse loose the coins singly. Then, with the coins scattered on the floor between her knees, the mouse crouched, and pressing her crotch to the floor, proceeded to pick up the coins one by one! Trouble watched, openmouthed. Visible through the ghost-image of the mouse, Kayla bent, her head near the floor, her rump high in the air as she watched, shaking her head in amazement.
Trouble watched in stunned amazement as the disembodied paw reappeared to reclaim the stack of coins, once again intact. It disappeared for a moment and then reappeared to place three numbered balls, each about five centimeters in diameter, on the floor in front of the mouse. Squatting again, the mouse picked up the balls in numerical sequence. From somewhere off camera, a voice growled "One!" and after a few moments, the blank look still on the mouse's face, she squatted a little, and the Number 1 ball dropped to the floor. Trouble shook her head and muttered, "That can't be; gotta be a trick! That was the first ball she picked up!"
Trouble winced as the Instructor smacked her on the back of the head. "Shut up and watch! It's no trick! You too will learn how to do that!"
The disembodied voice commanded "Two!" and the mouse dropped the second of the balls, somehow managing to maneuver it past the third ball she'd picked up, within her body. Finally she was permitted to discharge the final ball. The hologram flickered and faded as the room lights came up.
The Rotweiler grinned. "You think that's good? I can do a trick she can't." Striding to the side of the room, she picked up a beer mug, a bottle of the local brew, and a rather thick straw. Pouring the bottle into the mug, she stuck the straw into it, and then set the mug on the floor. Squatting over the mug, she placed the end of the straw between her own labia. "Smoking, as you know, is unhealthy, and the Academy doesn't permit it. However, in some places that antique and disgusting habit still persists, and I once saw a femme suck smoke into her quim from something called a 'cigar' ... and then exhale it. Me, I prefer my beer." Concentrating, the Rotweiler moved her internal muscles, and to Trouble's amazement, the level in the mug dropped, millimeter by millimeter, until it was about half gone. Standing, shifting so that her legs were widespread, the Rotweiler grinned. "You, spotty cat. Get over here, and open your mouth!"
Trouble gulped as fast as she could, as the Rotweiler discharged the beer into her mouth. It tasted of her sex, but wasn't as gross as it felt ... and it had been ages since she'd tasted beer ... Smiling, the Rotweiler commanded Trouble to hand her the half-empty mug, and as she drank the rest, as per her bidding, Trouble licked her clean.
Trouble was self-consciously licking her muzzle, trying to get all the droplets of beer and of the Instructor's juices off her fur, kneeling back in her original spot on the mat, as the Rotweiler produced a rather common carton of chickenfowl eggs. With a smile, she tucked one of the eggs into her still dripping sex. Her body tensing, muscles obviously working, a soft plop emanated from her sex. Padding over to the bear, she used both paws to tug her jaws apart. "Stick out your tongue. Further!" Tensing her muscles again, the Instructor dribbled the remains of the now crushed egg into the bear's mouth, shell fragments and all. Giving the bear a pat on the head, she chuckled, "Good for your coat." Turning back to face the rest of her students, while the bear made a face, and a half-hearted effort to spit out the larger pieces of eggshell, the Rotweiler grinned, "It takes strong muscles to do that. And in order to accomplish what we're going to do, you'll have to be much stronger than you are now. Now, who feels ready to try and pass the egg test? No one? All right, let's start warming up with our standard exercises ... "
Trouble lay with her shoulders flat on the mat, her hips elevated off the floor. It was both strangely embarrassing and exciting at the same time. The Instructor had pushed three ping-pong balls into her sex, and now she had been instructed to "shoot" them from her quim! With the rest of the class, the instructors and the guards looking on. Grunting, Trouble tensed her muscles, one of the balls popping out weakly to fall on the mat between her spread feet. "NO!" the Instructor growled, "you have to clench the muscles starting towards the top of your vagina and squeeze down! Use all your muscles, not just the PC muscles! Now try it again!" Concentrating, Trouble squeezed with all she had.
Trouble grinned at Kayla across the hot steamy water in the baths. "Well, my best shot was only four centimeters short of your record. Just you wait until tomorrow; I'll beat you yet, otter!"
Trouble knelt on the mat, the tin cup between her knees. The "straw" was about a centimeter in diameter and translucent, its tip held tenuously between her labia. Grunting, she looked down between her breasts at the liquid level in the cup, and rippling her muscles, did what she could to make the level of water in the "straw" rise up its length. They'd been promised that if they could suck the water up to the entrance to their pussies, they'd get a "reward" ... but they all had to do it for the reward to be given.
Cletus settled himself down into the water of the baths, a silly grin on his face. Across the steaming water, Chester watched the guard's movement and when he thought it was safe, he moved through the water with a skill born of long practice. "What you grinnin' about?" Cletus opened his eyes to regard the male raccoon. "Well, it seems we had another lab on 'technique' today." Chester's eyes flicked to where one guard was talking to another, in the middle distance, "You mean they let you guys get your rocks off? LUCKY you!" The bobcat just grinned a little wider; "Oh, it was more than that, Chester ma man! I think the whole thing wasn't our lab ... but theirs! I was paired with this cheetah lady, and let me tell you somethin', she was hot. Right in the middle of our session, she suddenly closed down on me so tight I couldn't pull out. No kidding! We were in the missionary position and for several minutes I couldn't pull out, or push her away! And no, she didn't have her legs around my waist either!" The bobcat smiled and sank a little lower in the water, his smile growing wider as he remembered. "I was trapped in silky perfection, Chester! It was like being in a silky velvet bear trap, and there was no escape! It was great! I think she got a real kick out of being able to do that to me, too, knowing how much it excited me. You should have seen her face as I pulled her back across the floor and then lifted her hips off the floor with nothing but the grip she had on my cock with that beautiful, talented pussy of hers! Talk about an extremely wonderful feeling! I didn't want her to ever stop crushing me like that!" From across the water, in the shadows, the basso rumble of Barry drawled, "Ah've heard of laydees that could hurt a furr lak that ... " Cletus just grinned, and as the guard headed back that way, scowling at the whispers, he mumbled, "No, it wasn't painful, but the intense pressure only excited me that much more." And then he sank below the water, and out of sight.
Trouble looked at the simple wooden egg sitting on the mat before her. Compared to some of the "aids" they'd practiced with, this one looked rather benign. The Rotweiler grinned, and picked up her own egg, squatting a little to slip it into her pussy. "OK, slaves, there are a number of exercises we'll be performing today with the eggs. I hope you like them, as they'll be your constant friends until you graduate from this class. Put 'em in, and stand in the 'horse' stance. Now contract the lower muscles ... now the second set ... now squeeze with the top set. I want you to practice moving the eggs up and down within yourself. Do that for the next fifteen minutes. Then we'll see about what else you might be able to do with them."
Frowning, Trouble concentrated. She was to contract the upper and lower bands of muscles and then use the middle band to make the egg move left, and then right? How would she even know if she'd succeeded? Tensing, she imagined the egg shifting to the left ...
"Its fairly simple, slaves. When you've figured out how to move it left and right, with each set of muscles, you merely have to move left with one set and right with the other set, and the egg will turn over within your vaginas." With a flourish, the Rotweiler pushed her egg into her pussy, pointy end first, and then after a moment, she dropped it into her waiting palm, pointy end first! Trouble closed her eyes and shook her head in amazement. She'd accidentally done that with her egg twice now, feeling it stretch her as it swapped end for end, but she still had no idea just what she'd done to accomplish it. With a sigh, she squatted a little, closing her eyes to concentrate once again ...
Trouble stood, her arms bound behind her back, a gag filling her mouth. Her leash was tied to a stanchion on the wall, preventing her from moving more than a few feet in any direction. And there on the floor, by the baseboard, was a key. It was just a small key, handcuff size, but more complex. It was a weathered brass, like it'd been in service for a long time. And it was just laying there. It looked as if it had just fallen there ... Alone for the moment, in the corridor, awaiting the guard that would take her to her next class, Trouble stared at the key. What was it for? What lock did it fit? Had it been carelessly dropped there, or had it been placed there, temptation for a slave? It wouldn't be hard to pick it up between her toes, but they'd pulled mittens over her paws before putting on the wrist cuffs, and there was no way she could grasp the key, removing it from her toes. Smirking around her gag, she remembered the hologram of the mouse, and shook her head; she should have no trouble at all picking up even something as tiny as the key with her pussy. Not anymore ... perhaps the leash was long enough to let her shift over to kick the key directly beneath her, and then be long enough to let her squat far enough to pick it up in that manner ... but should she? This could be a test ... they might be watching...
It's gotta be a trap, Trouble thought to herself as she idly flicked the key towards herself with one outstretched foot. Got to be why they've left me here this long, all by myself. Got to be why they put the mittens on ... And yet, there was something about the situation that she found irresistible. It was as if her body was moving of its own accord while her mind watched from a distance. The key was now right below her, directly between her feet. Looking one way and then the other up and down the corridor, Trouble held her breath for a moment, listening. No sign of anyone approaching. Squatting quickly, Trouble lowered herself to the floor; the leash was just barely long enough, the collar digging into her neck as she pressed her crotch to the floor. And then, she was gathering her feet under herself, rising, her prize held within the warm confines of her sex. OK, you proved you could do it; now drop it before someone comes, the cheetah thought to herself. Squatting just a little, she forced the key out, and then with a grin concealed by her gag, she kicked temptation out of reach, down the corridor.
It wasn't completely uncommon for them to come for a slave in the middle of the night, but it wasn't all that common either. All through the kennels, faces were pressed to bars as the small troop of guards made their way to Trouble's cell. Crooking a finger, the head guard, a massive tiger, urged Trouble out of her kennel. I HATE it when I'm right like that, Trouble thought to herself as they bound her paws behind her back, and snapped a leash to her collar. It was a trap ...
The Dean looked at Trouble, kneeling before him, and shook his head. "I have to admit, in the long history of the Academy, you are the first. There have been those who have ignored the key, and those that have tried to make off with it, but you are the first to both take it, and then reject temptation. Now I have to admit, the act of taking it alone has earned you a punishment, but that should be tempered by the fact that you later dropped it, and then kicked it out of reach. While I'm sure you'll tell me that it was your intention all along, that you only wanted to see if you could pick it up, I can't afford to believe that. I'm going to have to believe that you started on a bold plan, and then chickened out. Now lets see if we can find a punishment that fits the crime ... your Instructor tells me that you're only marginal in certain 'stamina' issues ... "
The setting was scary, Trouble had to admit that. It was as if they'd found a vertical sewer pipe and had lowered her into it. It was old, and slimy and slick, and it didn't smell very nice. Her paws were bound behind her back, and her ankles were bound together, on either side of a massive block of stone. When the guards had lowered her into the pipe, she'd thought the rope under her armpits was going to saw her arms off from the weight. The pipe was only a little larger in diameter than her body, and while its sides were rough, eroded concrete, Trouble was certain that even if her paws and feet had been free, that there'd be no way to climb out. The rubber bulb in her pussy though, gave her an idea as to what was going to come next ...
The first few cold droplets fell on her from above, and Trouble tilted her face up to look. It had been quite a while since the guards had trooped off, leaving her alone in her confinement. Above her, running along the roof of the utility tunnel they'd dragged her through to get to this place, was a large corroded metal pipe. And it was leaking. Water was dribbling down onto her from above. And then it became apparent that her worst fears had been realized. The vertical pipe she was standing in was going to slowly fill with water. But she'd been given a pump to pump it out with. All she had to do was to compress the rubber bulb in her pussy to work the pump. And the way the water was dribbling down on her from above, she'd have to work it hard to keep from eventually drowning. Grunting, she squeezed down hard, and as she relaxed, she could feel the weight as water crept up the hose dangling between her thighs.
Too cold, Trouble thought, too tired to shiver. The water had slowly risen, over the span of hours, until it was up to the hollow of her neck. Most of her control was gone, eaten away by exhausted muscles, but she could still spasm her pussy around the rubber bulb, still managing to pump some of the incoming water from the pipe ... she wondered if the guards would come to extract her, if the water would rise to drown her, despite her best efforts, or if she'd just get too tired to care. Exhausted and frozen, she struggled on, trying to stem the tide...
Trouble was still dripping when the guards dropped her off at the exercise room. The Rotweiler Bitch, looking much too clean and warm to Trouble, just smirked. "About time you could join us, slave." When the guards had left, the Rotweiler moved to stand directly in front of Trouble. "You look all worn out. Tell you what. You show me you can turn the egg end for end, and I'll let you sit out the rest of the period."
Trouble barely was able to nod before the Instructor was pressing the wooden egg against her sex. It was all Trouble could do to stifle a groan as the egg stretched now very sore muscles. "OK, slave, lets have it back; it went in point first, I want it out point first. Or I promise you I'll work you until there's nothing left!"
Trouble closed her eyes, her chin on her chest as she tried to manipulate the
thing; feeling a flutter within her, she idly wondered if she'd done it or not
... and then the Instructor was demanding she drop the egg now. Squeezing,
Trouble forced it out, not daring to look down. The Rotweiler stood stock still
for a moment and then raised an eyebrow. "Again!" Trouble eeped as
the Bitch shoved the egg into her again, broad end first this time. Panting,
she tried to do whatever it was she'd done a moment ago, and was rewarded with
that strange feeling within her. Expelling the egg into the Instructor's waiting
paw, Trouble stood, shivering slightly, awaiting her fate.
"Not bad. Two in a row. Not bad at all. OK, a promise is a promise. Just kneel here and get some rest." Turning back to the class, the Bitch held up the wooden egg, still slick with Trouble's juices. "Seems Spotty Cat here can do it; who'll be the next to demonstrate their abilities?"
Trouble smiled and shook her head for the umpteenth time. It was strange, bordering on the surrealistic. Here she was, on a small round dais, in a room full of furrs. She was nude, collared, and gagged, her arms in a tight leather arm binder behind her back, the end of her tail tied to the back of her collar. And she didn't mind. Oh, there might have been the occasional initial twinge of embarrassment, but by and large she was even glad to be here. Between her feet were three numbered balls, and at the request of some elegantly dressed lady, or sharply dressed male, she would squat, and pull the balls, one by one into her pussy. Then, at their command, she'd move them around within her, to drop the specified ball onto the top of the dais. The ooohs and ahhhs of the Academy's guests were music to her ears, and she beamed with pride. On another dais, Kayla was demonstrating her ability to propel ping-pong balls with amazing accuracy, only her shoulders and her heels on the dais. Trouble could tell she was enjoying it thoroughly when one of the guests would "reload" her snatch with three or four of the balls, and then, twisting, she'd try and hit him or her with them, laughing into her gag as they "dodged". On yet another dais, Marla was demonstrating her control, by pulling beer from a mug, through a straw. There was one nattily dressed ermine, wearing a tuxedo no less, who just loved to pull the straw from between the wolf fem's nether lips, to slurp up the beer she'd sucked up. It was obvious Marla was enjoying that one too. Elsewhere other students put on their own exhibitions. It was a gala atmosphere, and Trouble felt like she was one of the stars of the show.
Stretching, Trouble smiled; it was such a strange reward for good behavior. She was scrubbed clean, and perfumed, her hair shining. Wearing a diaphanous little nothing she reclined on silk pillows in one of the "guest rooms." She was to entertain one of the Academy's VIPs, showing him what she could do with her muscles. The Rotweiler had said she had achieved "Sahajoli," some term from that ancient Kama Sutra; apparently it was a term of high regard, meaning she had achieved full control of her vaginal muscles, or something like that. Looking up as the door opened, Trouble purrrred softly.
The gerbil stopped, a few feet into the room and just stared. After a moment, he shook his head; "What is this?" Trouble straightened a little on her pillows, and looked at him, but before she could speak, the gerbil shrilled, "I was promised a boy. A young boy, not some ... cunt! This isn't what I want!" Turning the gerbil strode to the door, reaching out to grasp the handle, only to find there was no door handle on the inside of the door. Pounding on the door for a moment he took a step back and shook his head. "And now they've locked me in? What kind of a place is this?"
Trouble looked at the gerbil again and wondered idly if this was just another test. She had been told that she'd be able to demonstrate her prowess for a very important guest, but this one didn't look ... willing. Or interested. Wondering if she was supposed to seduce him, she rolled onto her belly and purrrred, "Master, its not unusual for the Academy to lock doors. I'm sure that until someone comes along to release you, that I can find some way to entertain you ... " The gerbil stopped and turned to look at her, whiskers twitching. Trouble smiled back at him, careful not to show teeth. "Master, I've just finished some extensive training ... I'm sure I can do things with my pussy that no boy could possibly do with his ass; if you'll just give me half a chance, I'm sure I could delight you ... "
The gerbil frowned. "I suppose I might make use of your ass, although I do admit you do not look all that attractive ... but I'd certainly have no use at all for that ... 'other' thing."
Watching the gerbil pace, listening to him occasionally pound at the door, or shout for the guards, Trouble wondered just what was going on. Surely this place was monitored, if for no other reason than to have films on file for the occasional blackmail of very important furrs.
If no one was coming to his assistance, did that mean they were giving her a
chance to wheedle him into letting her show him her stuff? Surely she hadn't
trained so hard for so long, to let this happen! The VIP wasn't happy,
and the more Trouble thought about it, the more she thought that no matter that
this wasn't her fault, she could bet a punishment was still going to be coming
her way ... and if she was going to be punished anyways ...
Maybe if I can show this guy how good I can be, he'll shut up and quit whining. He might even decide he likes it, Trouble thought to herself. Rising, padding across the room, she slowly shed her diaphanous wrap. Resting her paws on his shoulders, it suddenly struck Trouble how much taller she was than the gerbil.
"Eh? What are you doing? I thought I told you, cunt, that I wasn't inter....mMPHF!" Trouble cut off the gerbil's tirade with a hard kiss, one paw holding his shoulder while her other paw fumbled at his belt. The clothes were first-rate, obviously hand-tailored designer editions, but they were never designed to hold up to this kind of abuse and somewhere she heard the sound of tearing fabric. Breaking the kiss, she looked deep into the gerbil's eyes and purrred, "Master I have trained too long and too hard not to show you what I can do; I don't mean to be forward, or pushy, but shut up and lay down!" The gerbil went over backwards, landing on the pillows on his back with a soft "eep!"
Trouble was astride his hips, in an instant, his fine pants in a tangle around his ankles, hobbling him, if nothing else. Purrrring, Trouble bent to stroke the gerbil's cock with her tongue, and was rewarded with an "oh! Oh! OH! OHMY........ maybe this won't be so bad after all ... " Trouble just grinned. Working her tongue over his cock, she could almost feel portions of his body relax under her tender ministrations, even as other portions tensed ...
Figuring it was about time, Trouble lifted her head; he'd been on edge for several minutes now, the cheetah using her talented tongue to hold him just shy of climax. "Now I want you to try something new, Master. Just lay back and relax, and let me do all the work ... " The Gerbil, his head tilted back, just grunted, a non-committal-type sound. Smiling, Trouble shifted up a bit, and moving carefully, lowered herself onto his cock.
The gerbil's head came up with a snap, and Trouble froze. He stared at her as if not believing what he was seeing, but after a moment his head fell back, a little of the tension leaving his body. Trouble purrrred, "Surely Master that can't feel bad ... surely I can find a way to please you ... " The gerbil looked up again at her and shook his head; "I tell you, I'd much rather be in your ass. There's no way you could possibly squeeze me as hard there, as I like. The anal ring is a much stronger muscle!" Trouble's eyebrows both went up. "Oh, yeah? How 'bout this?" Grinning, the cheetah squeezed as hard as she could ...
The gerbil screamed!
Trouble hung suspended in the Academy's punishment hall, her eyes closed. The strain was evident in the muscles of her body, as she struggled to hold the weight within her. A half kilo metal rod was clenched tight within her sex. From the end of the smooth rod, a small chain descended between her labia, looping down, and then back up, to be fastened to a new piercing midway along the length of her left labia. If she dropped the weight, it was going to hurt. And she knew that. She knew it very well. Hearing footsteps, she opened her eyes to slits and peered out.
The Dean looked at the bound cheetah and shook his head. "Amazingly, its not all your fault. You should not have forced your will on a guest. But I can understand your position. There was a medical emergency in one of the other guest rooms; the guards who should have been watching the monitors were absent. They, or someone should have attended to the situation in your room before it got out of hand. And you had no way to know that Lord D'acy held a completely irrational belief in something called 'retractable vaginal teeth.' When you squeezed down on him, a completely logical response to his comment, he panicked, thinking you were literally devouring his cock." Shaking his head, the Dean muttered, "Its amazing some of the fantasies that otherwise powerful and respectable furrs believe in with all their heart." Looking back up at the bound cheetah, the Dean sighed. "Nevertheless, you have done significant damage to the reputation of the Academy. There is no question that you should have restrained yourself. You should have just waited and let the guards sort it all out. But that's not in your nature, is it, Trouble?"
End of Chapter 6