Water & Wolves (Culpation League: Anger Issues)

“Take her down to the water room. Put her in the cage and leave her be.”

“Yes, House Master,” the lead guard said.

To the elevator and down to the basement level. It seemed familiar to her but she didn’t know why. To the end of the block, left turn, left turn, and into the second door on the left. Numerous cameras were hung on the walls, none of them turned on yet. There were two short cages against the wall by the door, both empty. Her robe was taken off and she was pushed toward the first cage. She had to go to her knees to crawl inside but could sit upright on her butt once inside. The door clanged shut at once and he snapped the padlock closed.

She was left alone to look around and wonder. Near the wall to her right were three tall water tanks. Round and transparent, with stairs up to a platform and ladders to the top of each. She could see water dripping in several places. Someone had recently been up there…in there?…and splashed outside of a tank.

There was a door in the back wall. She felt she should know what was on the other side of it. So much about this room was familiar. She surmised she had been here before and didn’t remember, like she didn’t remember the person the House Master had asked her about.

A cushioned bench stood near the back left corner. Two padded surfaces, likely one for kneeling and the other for bending. Clear plastic cuffs were hanging from loops on the wall. Next to the bench was a coil of hose on a big hook. Bigger than garden hose, smaller than fire hose, with a large nozzle.

What had she done in the shower that they were going to do to her here? Apparently she didn’t remember much of her shower. She’d pinned her hair up. She’d washed. She got out and dried herself. She couldn’t think of anything remarkable.

The door opened, an unfamiliar face coming in to stand in front of the cage and look down at her.

“You going to cooperate or you gonna fight?” he asked.

“Fuck if I know. I don’t know what you’re intending to do.”

He laughed and popped the lock open to let her out. A wave of his fingers, casual and nonthreatening, beckoned her forward. He let her walk on the rough cement floor but guided her with his hands to lean over the bench. He put her hands against the wall.

“Leave your hands there or I will strap you to the wall,” he told her.

Bending over, he moved her left foot to where he wanted it and bound her lower calf to the leg of the bench. Then the other and she was held wide open.

With one hand, he lifted the entire coil of hose off its hook and laid it on the floor. Water turned on, he aimed away from her to test the water and the nozzle. He turned a dial on the wall, tested it on his hand for several seconds. Adjusting the nozzle, he brought it to a moderately strong sprinkler-type setting.

Water over her lower back was warm and soothing. Within a moment, it was spraying directly between her buttocks to patter against her anus in a sensation that stole her breath. She found it pleasurable and relaxing. Her eyes closed and she rested her head on her upper arm to enjoy it fully. Farther down, to spray over her open puss in a gentle rain, then back up, stimulating her continually.

The water fell away and a click echoed around the room. The water pelted onto the floor with more force, the stream concentrated. It landed on her anus so suddenly that she cried out a shocked sound and smacked her palm against the tile of the wall. She balled her fist to hit with the fleshy outer end instead, not wanting to hurt her hand.

Aimed at the flesh of her buttock rather than directly on the hole, then the other side, and then the middle, her arousal surged until she groaned.

The angle changed. The water shot upward into her spread vagina, into the hole made vulnerable by the ankle shackles. She grunted with it, gasping and pressing her hands harder against the wall to remain standing. When the water found her clitoris, her muscles clenched in an orgasm until it moved away.

The strong stream began to move from one to the other in no discernable pattern and he gave her both quick and prolonged clitoral orgasms.

During a relentless, extended clitoral orgasm, she shouted “Please stop!”

The water aimed away from her.

“Why should I stop, prisoner? You certainly like it enough,” he said.

“My legs are tired. They feel like they’re shaking too hard and I’m going to fall.”

The water turned off. She heard boots thumping on the concrete floor and two sets of hands worked to open the ankle shackles while a warm body fitting tightly against her back. Arms around her chest held her securely while stepping backwards. As she had said, the second weight was on her feet again, her legs buckled. Another pair of hands lifted them and she was placed on a dry, padded surface. A gurney.

She was wheeled out of the room and into another and moved onto a larger bed surface. Four men were already waiting, each wearing a black mask decorated differently with embroidery. All were wolves, but one was grey and white on the black. Another was black on black with dark gray accents. Another was all white on the black.

One came onto the bed with her at once, rolled her onto her side, and took her from behind. She was more than ready, the water having aroused her to complete compliance. She was near the side of the bed and a cock was put into her mouth. She sucked deeply and vigorously enough that he didn’t try to pump his hips into her face.

The man behind finished and left the bed, the one replacing him, turning her onto her back. He bit her breasts with a wide grip of teeth, hard enough to make her yelp and cry out but not hard enough to break the skin. Using his thighs, he pushed her farther up toward the head of the bed, until her head hung off it. At once, a cock went into her mouth and down her throat. Hands pulled her arms outward, making her grip more cocks while the one biting her finally impaled her anus. Hands held her ankles to pull her legs open wide for him.

However long it took, she was lost to time through her own bliss. She came hard, fingers now and then slapping or stroking her clitoris. Fingers pinched her nipples and smacked her breasts or her face. The cock down her throat pulsed hard and pulled out to spurt warm goo onto her chest. The two on the sides quickly followed. Last, the one in her anus stripped out to squirt onto her belly.

The room emptied. She opened her eyes as one man toweled her off.

“Is that it?” she asked. “I’m not done.”

About the Author

TylerRose. is known as Dame Tyler in the NYC public SM/Fetish scene. She is an award-winning author who has written two “lifestyle”, four cartoon, and twenty fiction books that you can find on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/TylerRose./e/B00HCPLSP2. (USA site. For others, search your country’s site for B00HCPLSP2 )

Culpation League: Anger Issues can be found here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B079SXVPHK
(For others, search your country’s Amazon site for B079SXVPHK )

You can find more of her work in Fetlife: https://fetlife.com/users/305828

She enjoys crocheting and baking, and will no doubt die with a thesaurus open on her thigh.


  1. floggedsilly says:


  2. teamplayer says:

    wonderful job!

  3. Thanks for sharing. It’s been many…ok MANY…years since I’ve been to a club. I haven’t headed back to the scene for many reasons, but some are exactly what you’ve pointed out in this article. I guess I’m just a bit of a privacy freak. I like to take my dynamic into public places, but only in ways where the dynamic stays between my sub and I – and all but the most “in the know” who are looking for it, will notice it. I don’t necessarily enjoy watching just to watch (although I will do that occasionally). Interesting that the years haven’t changed things all that much, in that perspective.

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