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Ever since Calvin had been with the wrestlers, they were all he could think about. Every waking moment seemed tinged with their memory. When a person is infatuated, the object of his obsession becomes a sort of veil which overshadows the person's life.

Scarcely three days had passed since his afternoon in their dorm room. He'd woken up in the wolf's arms, and after some more sexual favors, he had left. From that point onward, they were his passion. He remembered giving them his phone number at some point. He remembered asking them -- almost begging, really -- to call him. They had been non-commital but did not exclude the possibility. He suspected they were just toying with them. Guys like the wolf and the cougar liked to be desired, and they liked to be let know they were desired.

He had no problem doing this.

Three days had sort of blended together into a kind of trance, a picture painted with the memories of his time with them, of muscles and voices whispering, encouraging him, and the smell of them, the two biggest, most incredible guys he'd ever been with.

On the third morning after their sexual usage of him, he turned on the television in his house. He flipped channels, imagining the wolf doing the same, sitting back on his bed in shorts and cutoff football jersey, with his huge wolf footpaws propped up. And of course, as he flipped the channel across ESPN, there was college wrestling. How appropriate. He watched this, heart pounding, feeling almost sick to his stomach with longing. He wanted them again. Desperately.

This morning was no different from the previous three... the waiting, the longing and the restlessness. Except that on this morning the phone rang.

Calvin nearly fell on his face as he jumped over the living room table to get to the phone.

It was the distinct voice of the cougar. Calvin shivered; even their _voices_ were somehow erotic. With neither introduction nor reason the cougar told Calvin to come their dorm. The dalmatian quickly agreed and was out the door momentarily, his heart racing.

All he wanted was to see them again.

When he'd been with Scott that one day after school, he had felt hurt because he knew it would never happen again. He had thought about Scott afterward sometimes, and it had still hurt him, but not since he'd met the wolf and the cougar. Compared to them, Scott was just a pale shadow of a memory. In fact, not only did Calvin need to be with them again, he simply could not conceive of a future where they were not in his life. His mind simply could not grasp it. This terrified him, even as he drove onto the parking lot of GreenMount college. He had decided to enroll in GreenMount college, so he thought it was good to be getting used to the trip. It wasn't his first choice as a school, but it was there they lived, the wrestlers, and for him this was more than enough reason.

He walked down the dorm hall, dressed in very typical clothing, shorts, a collared shirt and sneakers. Once he passed a guy in the hallway who paid him no mind.

When he reached the door to their room, he saw that it was propped open. Clothes were pouring out into the hallway. He could see the cougar on the bed, wearing only a pair of boxers and white socks. The feline's muscular golden-furred arms were above him, hands behind his head. The white fur of his torso trailed down his thick, sinewy body, to his tapered hips. He watched Calvin enter with mild interest, and he flexed his toes in a 'hello' gesture.

Calvin walked in, stepping carefully over their worn clothes, wrinkled papers and general junk. The room was mostly taken up by their beds -- big mattresses with sheets half falling onto the floor.

As he approached the center of the room, he heard the door close behind him. He tried to turn around and bumped into the wall of the wrestler wolf.

"Uhh... Hi," Calvin said meekly, gazing up at him. The smell of the wolf's body wafted over him, and he breathed this in deeply, looking up at the wolf, loving this smell and wanted the wolf to know that he loved it. He hid nothing from them, these larger-than-life icons of maleness.

The wolf put his hands on Calvin's shoulders, at once showing his strength. He stared sharply down into the canine's eyes. "We wanna ask you something," he said.

The cougar was behind him then, and his hands slid over the wolf's, tan on gray. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, like a conspirator. "We want you to be our pet."

Calvin's eyes widened. "W... what?"

"Be our pet," said the wolf.

"Live with us," said the cougar.

The wolf continued, keeping his eye contact with Calvin. "Think about this, dude. How often do you see guys in college? Or on the beach? Guys like us who look hot and hang out together. You see guys like us a lot, right?"

Calvin nodded, looking at the floor. "No one as big you, but yes."

"I'll bet you think about us, about what we do when we go inside. When we sleep in the same room at night, watching porno together, jerking off together. I'll bet you wonder what goes on in our lives, big, buff guys like us, where we go, what we do--"

--the cougar, "what we do when we get drunk enough." They both laughed.

"We want you to be our pet," continued the wolf. "Live here. Have sex and service two of the hottest guys you've ever seen."

"And our friends," the cougar whispered. "There's a few of guys on the football team that could use you."

"And you'll get to sleep with us every night, curled up with two hundred pounds of muscle apiece wrapped around you."

"You'll belong to us. We'd take care of you, and we'd take you out with us when we went places, and you wouldn't have to work or nothin'."

During their talk, Calvin listened and did not say a word. He was considering this -- actually considering this! This was the pinnacle of the past two years, he realized. Every time he had let someone use his body, he had given up a part of himself.

Now he was being asked to give up his whole life -- for a while anyway -- for the pleasure and amusement of two guys. And what an offer! They were the very epitome of strength and security, and he had a deep crush on them. Only the fact that he didn't know them prevented him from believing he was in love. If he took their offer, he could be with them everyday. They didn't want him to work; instead, they would care for him. Their only requirement -- regular sex -- was more of a payment to him than them!

He felt breathless, nervous, the way he did on a roller coaster. Was he falling? He couldn't tell anymore. Softly he asked them, "What would I need to do? There's no room for my clothes and stuff." The two wrestlers looked at each other. Obviously they had discussed this beforehand. "You don't need clothes," the wolf told him. "You'll wear some of our clothes when we take you out. When you're here, you'll only wear a jockstrap. It's open in the back, so we can..." The cougar grabbed Calvin's butt, giving it a firm squeeze, and finished, "...use it when we want."

Calvin jumped a little at being fondled, but he didn't resist. "Y... your clothes are too big for me," he said, feeling small and timid, and extremely lucky.

The wolf shrugged. "Don't matter. Who you trying to impress?"

The cougar pressed one finger under Calvin's tail, feeling between the round curve of his jeans. "Yeah. We already wanna fuck you." "And you wouldn't forget to do the laundry," said the wolf. "That's one of your jobs. Another would be cleaning up our dorm. We don't have room for your stuff here, so you won't keep anything unless we give it to you. You'll work out every day, while we're in class. The gym's usually empty right before noon. We're big guys, so we always keep food in the frigde. You can eat outta there. You don't go out for nothin' else unless you ask first."

Calvin felt so strange-- inside he tingled the way he did when he was afraid, but he was aroused, physically. And there were tears in his eyes. Whether they were from fear, sadness, or joy, he honestly didn't know. It seemed more a combination of the three.

"Wouldn't I be just your slave, though?" he asked softly.

The wolf actually looked surprised and concerned. His square jaw and normally impassive expression melted into a kind of warmth.

"No, no buddy," he whispered. He knelt down on one knee and touched Calvin's hips. "When you get a pet, do you expect it to do everything you tell it to? Is it your slave? No way."

The cougar kept his hands on Calvin's shoulders, massaging them gently. "You buy a pet so you can take care of it and make it happy. Of course there's rules..."

The wolf glanced up at the cougar, "Yeah, rules." His eyes met Calvin's "Because you've gotta establish who's in charge, who the owner is. But we'd have you because you'd be our pet. We'd love you and care for you just like you were a puppy or a kitten or somethin'."

"Not _exactly_ like a puppy or a kitten," the cougar said, snickering.

They pressed to him then-- wolf in front and the cougar behind. It was something they'd done before in lust, but now it was in affection, in tenderness. The wolf in front of him, standing now, giving Calvin a chest to nuzzle, and the cougar hugging him from behind, protecting him. He imagined them now as his owners, coming home after class and pulling him down onto the bed for some wrestling and some sex. He imagined them taking him for a ride in their car, while he gave one of them head in the back seat. He could imagine the nights of laying in their arms, comforted and caressed by them, these behemoths of muscle and strength. He could even imagine, someday, perhaps that they would return his sexual favors... being their first... He shivered.

The wolf gazed down into Calvin's eyes. "So what do you say?"

Enveloped in their warmth, in their power, Calvin nodded slowly.

The cougar petted him between the ears and they both walked him over to the wolf's bed. The three of them sat down together. Calvin sat in the lap of his new wolf master, and he felt tears well up in his eyes. This was all so strange. The cougar sat behind him, and he curled his big, powerful arms around the dalmatian's slim body.

"Do... do you really care about... me?" Calvin whispered. His voice was thick with emotion.

"Of course," the wolf whispered soothingly, his deep voice so soft and tender. It sounded like Scott's voice, like velvet running over itself. And muscles, from both of them, like Mike's muscles, only bigger, stronger. Calvin gazed up at them, first the wolf, and then the feline, and the cougar's eyes were so beautiful, blue, like sapphire. They reminded him of Roger.

"I love you like a puppydog," the cougar murmured, caressing his face with one hand. Such a big hand, and Calvin let his head rest on it. The cougar leaned down, smiling the way he would smile at a new puppy, he kissed Calvin on his left ear.

The wolf turned him gently around and looked down at him. "And I love you the same way," he said softly, and did the same, kissing him lightly on the side of the face.

Calvin began to cry softly. Emotion bubbled up in him. "N... no one's... ever said that to me... before," he whimpered, closing his eyes and sobbing almost silently.

And then they were both caressing him, the wolf whispering, "Shhhh... no, don't cry buddy..." And the cougar murmuring, "Aww it's okay... shhh..." Their voices cavorted around him, and their hands were everywhere, rubbing his back and his chest, sliding under his arms, touching his face, all at once, the combined scent of their male bodies enveloping him as surely as their muscle and fur. It was like wrapping a blanket of masculine tenderness around him.

Never had he felt so loved, so _wanted_ by anyone. And he let them touch him, fondle him, hold him. He buried his face in the wolf's broad chest, feeling the soft fur, feeling the beating of his heart.

"I love you, too," he whispered. He was no longer crying. He was physically aroused now, which always seemed to happen after such a bout of crying.

He relaxed as they slowly pulled his clothes off and folded them up, knowing he would not see them again for a long time. He would see nothing of his own. It was beginning with this unwrapping of his body, his removal of clothing. He yielding to their every touch, lifting his arms as his shirt was pulled away, and his legs as they took off his pants. He was theirs to touch and to mold into whatever shape they desired.

He was terrified. He felt small and vulnerable and frail in the presence of these two males. He knew this was wrong for him, that no one should own another person, but it was so sweet. It was so warm. In the darkness of it he somehow found vindication -- the experience was reason enough.

He felt a hand behind his head and suspected it was the wolf's, since it was pressing him down into the wolf's lap. He pulled open the wolf's jeans felt the cougar's fingers probing under his own tail, at the warm, tight pucker beneath.

For the next three hours they took turns in his mouth, under his tail and in his hands until the three of them were curled up together in a pile of warm fur in the middle of the wrestling mat.

Again, Calvin did not reach an orgasm. For him this was peripheral -- something he could take care of while they were out. It went deeper than merely the sex. He knew this though he had stopped questioning it. He merely knew what was warm and filling and what was asked of him. He knew that two wonderful, understanding men wanted him, for his body and his talents and for his innocence, things he was happy to give them. And he knew that it would be something to remember.

In the dark that night, laying between their sleeping bodies and shared scents, a profound lesson of reality occurred to him. It was as simple as this: certain opportunities are worth their own weight in memory and accomplishment, despite morality and consequence. Not all events, of course. This, however, was one for him. He knew this situation would not last forever. He knew it would hurt when it ended. He knew this, but the times he had with these males would stay with him forever. Such an opportunity would light fire in his fantasies for years. He could recover from hurt, but this chance would never come again.

This was not a one-day affair with Scott, who ran off afterward. This was not the occasional tryst with Mike, who was oblivious to what he was doing. This was not being used by Roger as a training device. This was intense. This was memorable.

He sighed, satisfied, for the moment, to live with that.

* * *

And at this point, Calvin leaves our story. I can tell you that he does stay with the wrestlers for a while. Beyond that, however -- the length of his stay with them, and the extent to which they grew to care for each other -- I think I will let let them have their privacy.

As for Calvin's life, there isn't any more to tell. Sure, other things happened. Good things, and bad things, just like any other life. But the events which followed don't lend themselves to the universe in which they began. In other words, they don't fit into GreenMount.

I will miss Calvin, because he was gentle to everyone but himself, and in that way he reminds me of myself. I had to leave him here though, in the arms of his wrestler owners, because that is how I have thought of him since I conceived the GreenMount idea eight months ago. It has been a long journey getting him to this point, but it was certainly a colorful one. Leon and Victor have already left the GreenMount universe altogether. Only eight characters to go.