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The annual Silent Movie contest was the hottest shindig in town. On its first day that year, after being chosen at random from the auditorium's two hundred or so college students, Chrissy, in nothing but a slate gray t-shirt and a sexy pair of black low-rise bikini panties, found herself strapped down to a makeshift yet sturdy button-tufted table.

The host, a tuxedo-clad German shepherd with a bit of a bulge, held the microphone up to the restrained gray wolf's snout. "How do you feel, Chrissy?" He tickled under her chin with the other paw.

She smiled coyly and nodded. "I'm fine. Question is, how do you feel now that you're finally gonna give out those free tickets?" Her tail, sticking out through a hole in the table, wagged.

The crowd chuckled and cheered.

The weeklong event, held in commemoration of the release of Roundhay Garden Scene, had been a town tradition for the past twenty years. A town tradition with no victor to ever claim the prize, yet here was this young thing, a junior just shy of twenty-one herself, her arms stretched over her head, legs parted at a 15-degree angle, who was sure she'd do what nobody had done in two decades: win tickets to every single movie theater in the country to view anything of her choosing, for life, whenever she wanted.

"Looks like someone's a little cocky." He turned and motioned to the mink dressed in black--his curvaceous assistant, Lexie, with fur as white as snow. The dominatrix was decked out in a shiny, sleeveless, form-fitting vinyl bodysuit and a pair of elbow gloves that stopped just short of her shoulders. "You know once that thing touches you, you gotta stay quiet, yeah? Just like in those old silent movies," said Buster.

Chrissy nodded as Lexie strutted towards her, a massive wand vibrator buzzing away in her paw. "For ten whole minutes, or until I cum."

"That's exactly right, Chrissy, whichever comes first." Buster reached over and tapped the little lavalier microphone attached to the neckline of her shirt. "Wanna give this a little try? It's programmed to react to the sounds of the person closest to it. If you even so much as breathe too hard, you lose."

Christina--Chrissy to all her friends--smirked at Buster, at Lexie. She exhaled through her nose, just hard enough to make her whiskers twitch, and a deafening buzzer sounded, making the crowd ooh.

"If you got a penis, it's pretty obvious when you cum, but for cuties like you, it's quite hard to tell when it happens, so when you've had your orgasm, you press the little button, got it?" Buster referred to the little Bluetooth clicker Chrissy held in her paw. "And you better not cheat, you hear? This here event's kindly sponsored by the college, so if you go anywhere near that button and you haven't had your orgasm, you're liable to get in trouble."

"Yes, sir."

He wasn't messing around--five years prior, a minor scandal saw a sophomore getting kicked out without being able to enroll anywhere else, all because she'd faked the orgasm, pressed the button, claimed her prize, and bragged to her friends how she'd screwed the university out of free movie tickets, all the while the assistant dean sat behind her. The whole situation could, of course, be avoided if the contestants were in the nude, making it easier to discern fake orgasms from genuine ones, but the college refused to fund the event unless the participants were, strictly speaking, "fully dressed." A compromise, thus, was reached, involving underwear and Bluetooth devices.

Buster strutted towards the audience of rapt college students, microphone clutched in his paw, a swagger in his hips that could rival that of Freddie Mercury, and stopped just short of the five-foot drop, toes wrapped around the edge of the stage. "Are you all ready to see Chrissy here lose?"

The frenzied crowd whooped and hollered.

"Ten minutes on the countdown timer!" he said; not a second later, 10:00 appeared on an LCD screen above the stage, each digit part of a bright green seven-segment display. He held his hand up, and the raucous hooting progressively gave way to pin-drop silence.

Another screen to the side of the stage, 40 by 90 feet, flickered to life. Split in half, it captured two angles--Chrissy's face on one side, and her groin area on the other.

Buster turned and nodded firmly to his companion.

Lexie smiled back, and her eyes swiveled to Chrissy's. Without wasting a second, hoping to use the element of surprise to her advantage, Lexie found the girl's panties and held the vibrator firmly in place--that technique had instantly spelled doom for one out of five contestants every single year.

But Chrissy, of course, didn't fall for it. She flashed Lexie her teeth, making sure the mink caught a glimpse of her sharp canines.

She'd been preparing ever since her freshman year, ever since she learned of the Silent Movie festival and its unusually erotic contest. Night after night, alone in her dorm room, Chrissy would use a vibrator on herself. At first, she'd found it impossible to resist the temptation to moan, to blaspheme, to shudder as the intense pleasure of orgasm washed over her, but, over time, the groans became gasps, the gasps became huffs, the huffs became sighs. After months of training, Chrissy could will herself into a Zen-like state, even while in the throes of climax. She was ready . . . now all that remained was getting picked.

And tonight, she'd finally gotten her wish.

As Lexie caressed her hair, her cheeks, her closed eyelids, as Buster commented on her lovely features, on how she'd join the ranks of the hundred or so losers that came before her, three minutes into the ordeal, Chrissy felt the twinge of imminent orgasm.

She remained as quiet as a dormouse. Her breathing was steady, controlled by her diaphragm. Chrissy reined in the urge to curl her toes; one of the girls a couple years ago had lost because her lapel mic had picked up a knuckle popping. The one thing she had no control over, however, was her tail--and Lexie noticed.

"Is that right?" Lexie cooed and put her hand on Chrissy's tummy to feel her straining, quivering muscles. "What's wrong, cutie?" She rubbed the whirring massager into her cunny, up and down, lips to clit, clit to lips. "Wagging it up?" she asked as Chrissy's tail brushed against her ankles repeatedly. "Is someone going to have their orgasm?"

"I so wish that was me," commented one girl in the audience, a mouse, as she stared at Chrissy's pleasured expression.

"No way." The otter next to her shifted around to find a comfortable position for his erection. "Second you start cumming, you wake the neighbors."

Buster held the mic up to his face, eyes wild. "Come on! Repeat after me! Cum! Cum! Cum!"

The spectators complied and barked, hooted, screamed back the chant.

Chrissy bit her lip and tensed up.

"Close, huh?" Lexie squeezed her hand around the massager; her claws buzzed against its rattling plastic handle. "Come on, cutie. Cum." She pressed it into her clit.

The tail froze stiff under the table, and Chrissy's tummy sucked in. Her back arched as heat rushed to her loins, seconds away from release.

"That is so. Hot," said the mouse, legs crossed, thighs flexing. "Ralph, please, let's do this one of these days."

The otter fidgeted and cupped his paws over his groin. "We can. But tonight, I gotta relieve some stress, holy shit." He licked his lips at the screen, at Chrissy's twitching whiskers.

Lexie's vibrator finally tipped Chrissy over the edge. On the outside, she looked like a ballerina practicing a dance move, back curved gracefully, a seraphic, peaceful smile on her lips; on the inside, however, she howled, screamed, gasped, shouted. She imagined herself writhing, shivering with each wave of bliss.

"She is such a trooper!" yelled Buster as Lexie vibrated the absolute shit out of the climaxing wolf's clit. "We may have a winner this year after all!"

The white-hot flashes of pleasure gave way to tingles, to a pleasant throbbing; Chrissy's horrifically intense orgasm was close to an end.

Lexie narrowed her eyes in disappointment. "Not even a peep?" she asked massaging the dregs of Chrissy's orgasm out of her as the wolf's back straightened out. "Whatever. Remember that thing in your hand."

Chrissy nodded. She opened her eyes, winced at the blinding stage lights. She blinked a couple times as her pussy twitched one last time. With a glowing smile of victory, Chrissy put her thumb on the button . . . and dropped the clicker as her hand flew open, cringing, teeth bared.

Lexie still held the rumbling back massager, powered by an extension cord that plugged into a backstage diesel generator, on Chrissy's clit. "Oh, no! Is someone a little sensitive?"

The mouse sat back with her knees tucked to her chest, tail curling up. "That sucks so bad! She just came! She's gonna crack. I know I would."

"Looks like we got a proooobleeeem!" said Buster, the last word in vibrato-laden singsong. "Gotta press the button, dear Chrissy, or else that vibe's gonna stay on you for the next five minutes!" He pointed up at the countdown timer--indeed, it read 4:57. "I don't think it'd be fair if we just handed the clicker back to her, huh?" he asked the crowd, cupping his paw against his swiveling ear.

Lexie pushed the vibrator as hard as she could into the wolf's pussy. "Five minutes? She's gonna be squealing and begging way before that." She harrumphed, pinning Chrissy to the table with a paw pushed against the girl's stomach. "So you think you could win, huh? Not looking so good now, is it?"

Chrissy gulped and mustered enough strength to fight the excruciating post-orgasmic sensations. She opened her watering eyes and stared down the cocky mink.

Lexie chuckled at Chrissy's show of bravado. "You think you're gonna power through this? Nope." Buzz, buzz, buzz--up and down went the massager. "I give you my word, if you manage to pull it off, you and me swap places."

"You hear that?" said Buster. "Now that's how sure Lexie here is, and, honestly, so am I, that this here young lady's not gonna make it." He turned to glance at the wolf. "What do we have here."

Chrissy's torso, again, curved, sheer pre-orgasmic strength far too much for Lexie to keep her flat against the table.

"She's cumming again!" yelled Buster. "How about that! Is she gonna scream her guts out when that orgasm hits?"

A second later, with two minutes left on the timer, Buster got his answer--the brutal tidal wave of ecstasy ripped through Chrissy's body, but, miraculously, she kept her composure.

Half a minute later, she finished climaxing. And, this time, the jackhammer vibrations were so much worse. Chrissy's hands clenched into tight fists, and her toes splayed.

"Would you like that?" said the otter to the mouse. "Being forced to cum over and over again without having any control over it?"

The mouse sat with her face covered. She peered at the screen through a crack between her fingers, the inside of her ears turning red. She nodded.

"I can't hear you," he said, playfully poking her ticklish side with a finger.

She squeaked and flinched away with a giggle.

"It's just gonna keep on getting worse and worse the more you cum, Chrissy," said Lexie. "Your clit's on fire, and you know it. Beg me to take it off." With a flick of her claw, the massager thrummed at its highest frequency. "I don't use this setting ever, but you've gone and done it. No mercy."

Lexie wasn't wrong. It wasn't unlike taking a boiling hot concoction of lemon juice and salt to a wound, but Chrissy would not be defeated, no. She'd spent way too many nights, too many weeks and months preparing. And, deep down, she kind of liked it. As she processed these conflicting feelings, squirming, forcing herself to breathe regularly, the unbearable tingling, again, yielded in favor of a sharp tickle--a minute remained, and Chrissy found herself on the cusp of yet another orgasm.

"She's trying so hard," said Lexie as Chrissy's back arched into the pleasure. "I think this is gonna be it. Watch her moan and beg and scream."

Buster held his microphone up close to the orgasming wolf's face. Silence. He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lexie.

The mink read his mind and shook her head. "Don't you worry, Busty. I cranked 'er up a notch. She won't be able to stop cumming."

Sure enough, right as the third climax faded away, yet another one started.

Forty-five seconds.

Chrissy trembled as a cascade of industrial-strength multiple orgasms slammed into her, each one stronger than the last.

Thirty seconds.

She lost all sense of reality and became a being not of flesh, bone and blood, but of pain, pleasure and placidness.

Fifteen seconds.

"Screw you!" snarled Lexie. "Are you a robot? How the hell are you putting up with this?"

Buster rubbed the side of his face. "She's really going to do it, isn't she?" he asked, more to himself than to the crowd of engrossed students.

"Look at her face," said the mouse. "She's so calm, even though that thing's fucking up her shit big time." She pointed at the bulbous head of the vibrator on the screen. "I'd be screaming myself hoarse."

The otter let the mouse's tail wrap around his paw. "I'll make you scream yourself hoarse, you silly little thing."

Five seconds.

Chrissy's toes pointed, bringing out the arch in her foot. Her nipples throbbed in sync with her pussy as the vibrator yanked the umpteenth orgasm out of her.

"Goddamnit," snarled Buster, microphone off. "You better keep your word, or else the committee's going to pull our funding."

A chant erupted amidst the crowd: 3, 2, 1!

When the timer reached zero, everyone flew into a frenzy, including Chrissy, who moaned, groaned, screamed out the last orgasm, specifically orgasm number 22.

Confetti dropped from the stage ceiling as a dejected Lexie took the massager off the wolf and killed its motor.

"This is a disaster, Lex," he said, raising his voice, taking advantage of the spectators' cries of jubilation, of lust. "Why can't you just keep your mouth shut?"

Lexie held her paw up. "Not a worry." She began undoing Chrissy's wrist restraints. "And for your information, wolfie, if you think you can make me crack, you got another thing coming."

Chrissy stretched her arms, spread her fingers, basking in the glow of euphoria that came after sexual release. She grabbed a confetti streamer as it floated into her paw. "You're just saying that." Chrissy squeezed the piece of paper hard. "But I think deep down you're shitting yourself."

"Whatever." Lexie ripped Chrissy's ankle cuffs off. "You know, I am going to enjoy taking those tickets from you."

Chrissy sat on the edge of the table and yanked her tail out of the hole. "In your dreams, girl. I got a bunch of movies lined up already."

Now that the students had begun to settle down, the catty back-and-forth resounded throughout the auditorium, courtesy of Buster's microphone.

"I'm rooting for Chrissy," said the mouse. "I dunno if I like that other girl, she's kinda mean."

"I'll be honest." The otter tugged on the collar of his shirt. "I don't really care who wins, as long as the showdown happens, you know what I mean?"

The mouse rolled her eyes. "Control yourself, you little perv."

"Well," said Buster, turning to address the audience. "Looks like we got ourselves a bit of a competition."

"Not much of a competition if the winner's already decided." Lexie sprayed down the head of the massager with an antiseptic liquid. "Worse that can happen is I get some of your gross-ass germs on me."

Chrissy's face pinched in anger as Lexie thrust the vibrator into the wolf's paws and motioned her off the table. "I am extremely clean, thank you very much," said Chrissy, landing on the stage floor with a thud. She made a face as she tugged on her panties to get rid of the rather prominent cameltoe.

Lexie plucked the mic off Chrissy's shirt and snapped it onto her bodysuit. "You'll find, Chrissy darling, that I am the queen of silence." She hopped onto the table and scooted close to the hole for her tail. "Best of luck. You will need it."

Above the three of them, again, the timer marked 10:00.

"You all ready for round two?" asked Buster, handing Lexie the clicker Chrissy had dropped.

As the spectators all roared in agreement, Chrissy made short work of the bondage, her nimble fingers strapping the mink down in under ten seconds.

Without being prompted, the horny, entranced audience stared at the screen; it was newly occupied by Lexie's ravishing features and the crotch of her bodysuit. They settled into a deathly silence.

Chrissy smirked and brought the massager to life. The timer began counting down as she circled Lexie's pussy in motions that grew smaller and smaller . . . till they found the mink's clit.

Even though Chrissy had spared Lexie the "surprise" technique, the intense thrumming still caught her off guard, yet, somehow, she managed to stifle the loud huff of pleasure. She bit her lip, ass clenching rhythmically against her will, and locked eyes with Chrissy.

"Looks like we got a staring contest," quipped Buster.

Lexie's tail wagged under the table, and Chrissy grabbed it with her free paw. "Aw, what's the matter? Is someone wagging it up?" she asked in the same cloying cadence Lexie had used before.

The mink scowled and yanked it out of her hand. Only a minute into the impromptu confrontation, Lexie's cunny twitched. She was seconds away from orgasm--the skintight vinyl amplified the vibrations. She closed her eyes and tightened her core.

Without warning, right as Lexie was about to tip over the edge, Chrissy, again, began circling her clit. "Nuh-uh, cutie, not yet!" she said in singsong.

Lexie's eyes shot open.

The crowd, all staring at the massive screen, gasped.

"That's mean!" commented the mouse, grabbing her own tail and squeezing as she cringed at Lexie's scowl of frustration.

"You kidding me?" The otter shifted around to find a comfortable position for his erection. "That's crazy hot. Like, go all the way and stop right before it happens? Sheesh."

Lexie craned her neck, cords straining against the fur as she stared at the vibrator, then changed to a glare directed at her tormentor.

Chrissy laughed out loud. "Were you gonna have fun? Maybe you could." She let the powerful vibrations pass over her clit.

Lexie's head shuddered, and her hands clenched into fists.

Again, the attendees murmured their indignation, their excitement, hands covering their muzzles, beaks.

"But only if you ask for it, Lexie." Round and round went the vibe. "I'm all ears. Loud and clear."

"She's toughing it out," said Buster, voice booming over the auditorium's loudspeakers. "But we all know what's going on inside her head."

The mouse certainly did. "Dude, that is so messed up!" she said, eyes going back and forth between Lexie's clenched teeth and the view of her cunny being teased with maddening circles.

"That happen to you, would you beg to cum?" asked the otter.

"Yes! I mean no." The mouse's back slid down the chair and she covered her face.

Buster padded over to his restrained assistant. "All you gotta do is ask." He brushed aside some of Lexie's hair.

She frowned and shook her head, a fat drop of sweat going down her temple, the side of her face.

"You sure about that, Lexie?" Chrissy playfully tapped the hapless mink's clit, just the one time.

The one time was more than enough for her body to seize up, for her tendons and muscles to shift beneath her fur, for her nipples to pulse against black, tight vinyl--Lexie was right on the edge.

Minutes passed with the spectators chattering away in sibilant whispers, some of them squirming, others cradling clear boners, as Chrissy teased and tortured Lexie.

Chrissy would hold the massager on her for just a few seconds. She'd then cruelly lift it off; she'd repeat this over and over, enjoying the feral look of desperation on Lexie's face. She'd pass it over her taint, lips, draw a small circle around her clit, and go back down.

Finally, at the nine-minute mark, the mink was a sweaty, hot mess. Strands of her flowing black hair were stuck to her forehead, and her thighs ached from the struggle of trying to get the vibrator on her nub.

"Holy shit, I may need a new assistant," said Buster, prompting the disheveled Lexie to stare daggers at him.

"Nah, I'm just here to have some fun." Chrissy reached over and flicked the tip of Lexie's whisker.

But the brief tickle that made her nose twitch was the least of Lexie's concerns. She was at her wits' end, desperate to orgasm, unable to make a sound lest she let the smug wolf get what she wanted. But with each taunt, with each touch to her clit, with each fleeting graze, she found her willpower faltering, eroding. She twisted her neck to try and see the countdown timer, but, alas, it was _just_out of sight.

"I can see it on your face, Lexie," said Chrissy. And she wasn't wrong. Everyone could see the darting eyes, the beads of sweat soaking into her fur.

Five seconds remained on the clock.

Who cared about the embarrassment of losing? No.

Three seconds.

As long as she got to . . .

Two seconds.

To . . .

One second.

"CUM!"

The buzzer, with the timer displaying 0:01, sounded, signaling Lexie's defeat.

"MAKE ME CUM, YOU BITCH!" she yelled. "You win!"

Buster tutted. "Looks like Chrissy's our winner after all!"

Chrissy slow-blinked her narrowed eyes and shook her head. "Nope." A flick of the wrist later, the massager whirred down to a standstill.

"No, wait, wait, what?" Lexie struggled against the cuffs, fingers splaying and curling. "No! Please don't do this to me!"

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," said the mouse, miniscule paw covering her grin.

The otter nodded. "More like served at absolute zero in this case, sheesh."

"You worthless bitch! You made your point! I already fucking lost! FUCK you!" Lexie gasped, gulped, tossed her hair back. "No! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Please make me cum!"

Chrissy slapped Lexie's thigh, unprotected by the vinyl of her bodysuit, as the dominatrix tried to thrust her ass up. "But the contest's already over, Lexie." She took a couple of dainty steps towards Lexie and leaned. "Honey." Her sweet breath made the restrained mink's nostrils flare. "I won, you lost, there's nothing else anyone's got to do."

"Yes! You won fair and square! And I'm sorry I was such a bitch! Can you please just like hold it on me for a couple of seconds?"

"Oh, Lexie, honey, haven't you heard? Winner takes it all. Tickets." She booped Lexie on the nose. "Orgasms."

"FUCK you!" yelled the mink. She squeezed the clicker in anger, cracking its plastic casing, and flung it to the floor, where circuit board and enclosure detached. Hyperventilating, she turned to Buster. "Busty, babe, a little help? Come on, pretty please!"

"Actually, Lexie," started the canine, turning to glance at the audience, shit-eating grin on his face. "You remember how at the last board meeting they realized the numbers didn't add up? They haven't these last three years." He reached into his dinner jacket's flap pocket and produced three security camera stills, each of them timestamped with the current year, the year before, and the year before that. "Looks like you, doesn't it?" He held the pictures up to the camera that was focused on Lexie's crotch.

The spectators gasped--Lexie was huddled in a corner of the university's vault, a wad of bills in one paw, the other buried deep in a safety-deposit box up to her elbow.

Lexie shook her head vigorously. "I, I can explain, OK?" She grimaced, looked down at her denied pussy. "Just please, can you make me cum first?"

"What do you think?" Buster asked the now irate students, pointing the microphone at them.

They voiced their disapproval in unison--a roaring cacophony of boos and jeers made the stage tremble.

"No orgasm for you, sugartits!" said one cat.

A vixen with a beauty mark on her face shook her finger. "Nuh-uh, you gotta pay for what you did."

The mouse flipped Lexie off with both hands. "Only good girls get to cum, you scoundrel!" she yelled.

"I can show you what a good girl you are," said the otter. He pulled her in close and kissed her cheek.

She giggled and then moaned as his hand snaked down her shorts.

"The people have spoken," proclaimed Buster, both hands raised, microphone in one, the pictures in the other. He dumped the stills on Lexie's face and held his now free hand out to Chrissy.

"What the fuck!" Lexie shook the pictures off her head and thrashed in her restraints.

Holding Buster's hand, Chrissy flicked the vibrator on, dialed in the lowest setting, and placed its whirring head on Lexie's vinyl-covered cunny. "Should be enough to get you all hot and bothered, but not enough for any actual relief."

Lexie gasped. She humped the massager, trying desperately to get more pressure against it. "NO! Buster! Chrissy! I'm so sorry for everything! I'll pay everything back! I, I was just jealous, you see! I always do all the work, and all you do is talk into that freaking microphone!"

Chrissy and Buster paid her no mind and, right after they both bowed to the audience, disappeared backstage behind the curtains.

"You have no clue how close I am! Just please push it into me! I'll do anything! You can hold it on me after I cum! Is that why you're mad? Chrissy, please!"

With the spectators still pooh-poohing the thieving mink, Buster reached into his chest pocket and produced a credit card-shaped object. "Congrats," he said.

Chrissy's eyes twinkled. "Wow, I didn't know it looked so fancy." The ticket, from its lustrous sheen and weight, seemed to be made of 18 karat gold. I CAN CUM HERE FOR FREE was engraved into it in Gothic calligraphy.

"Speaking of cumming," continued Buster, "now that old sunshine back there is out of the job, think you mind helping out next year?"

The corner of Chrissy's muzzle twisted into a cute smile. "I like the way you think." She giggled and lightly bopped him on the back of his head.

Buster hunched up his shoulders. "Hey! What was that for?"

"You were supposed to give me back the clicker when I dropped it."

"But if I did, then none of this would have happened."

"Fair point, I guess."

"Speaking of, how many times did you cum?"

Chrissy hooked her finger into the breast pocket of his jacket. "Wouldn't mind telling you later." She got up close, stood on tiptoes, and whispered into his ear, "I could also show you."