FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

To Ashes

Chapter 13: Phoenix

“This is fucking stupid," Fynx snarled in his seat.

“Well, the state mandates it," the woman shrugged. “You're going to be here with us for the next nine months, so get comfortable."

Fynx huffed, his scrubs were pure white, clung to his powerful form and showed off how much larger he was than the female snow leopard therapist. His expensive haircut was shaved for prison. The therapist wore a silver blazer and matching skirt with a ruffled blouse. Her feet were in some black pumps.

“Whatever," Fynx huffed, his claws digging into his arms as his veins buzzed for cigarettes. “Not like a woman doctor could say anything worth piss anyway. Especially one in knock-off Prada."

“You're entitled to your opinion," the doctor shrugged, her tail lazily flicking to the side as she adjusted her glasses.

The two were in her office, a nice corner view of the facilities, large windows overlooking tennis courts and the mess hall. She simply sat there scribbling on her notepad, the yellow paper a grim reminder that he was being studied. Fynx was laying down on a couch, his feet on the floor, head on the arm rest, his arms crossed, and eyes looking upward.

“Great, some woke as bitch trying to tell me what to do," Fynx grumbled.

“I'm not here to change your mind on women, Christian," the doctor replied.

“Fynx," he corrected her. “Show some damn respect and call me by my last name."

“Whatever makes you feel more comfortable, Fynx," she replied, unphased.

“I shouldn't be here anyway," Fynx huffed.

“You were charged with embezzlement that aided terrorist organizations," she said, cocking her head, her bun bouncing slightly with the movement. “You're lucky you were only sentenced to nine months."

“With the people I know, I should have gotten off scot free."

“Well, that's why you're here and not someplace less savory," she replied, scribbling something down.

“You taking that down to report on me?" Fynx snarled, the half-hearted threat coming from a place of defeat.

“Nothing you say here can be shared unless I believe you're going to cause harm to yourself or others."

“Yeah, I know how you people work," Fynx huffed.

“I'm sure you do," she smiled.

“What do you mean by that?" Fynx snarled.

“I'm simply saying you have already formed an opinion about me," she shrugged. “That's all. Not here to judge, but if you want to get out of here any quicker to see the birth of your children, well, my recommendation would go a long way. And if you show improvement, real improvement, I'd be happy to make my recommendation."

“Yeah, they said it all before, bitch," Fynx huffed. “Play nice and we get to leave on good behavior and shit. I've seen the sitcoms and heard the warden. It ain't anything special."

“I guess to some it's not," she scribbled more notes on her pad. “Did you want to talk about anything?"

“I think we're done here," Fynx huffed and got up to leave.

“We have a half hour," she furrowed her brow.

“Yeah, just say I showed up or whatever," Fynx waived off, but once he got to the door he noticed it was locked. “Let me out of here, bitch." He snarled.

“Fynx," she started. “I think I can help you."

“Like some skank knows anything about me," Fynx shot back.

“Why do you do that?" She cocked a brow.

“What?!" Fynx snarled as he spun around.

“Lash out? We're just having a conversation? Have I done something to offend you?"

“Yeah! You're some dumb bitch that thinks she can pull one over on me!" Fynx stomped forward. “You think you can trick me, that you can get inside my head and fuck with me! Well I won't let you bitch!" Fynx gripped her blouse, his eyes wide, but her face was calm. She didn't say anything.

“Answer me!" Fynx huffed.

“Let go of my blouse," she looked up at Fynx firmly without backing down. Fynx grit his teeth and shoved her back in her chair.

“Let me out," Fynx demanded. She stayed there, readjusted her blouse, and then sighed, pressing a button on her phone and the door unlocked, a duo of guards came in and escorted Fynx away.

“This session won't count towards your mandatory sessions," she warned, but Fynx was already gone.

***

“So, do you want to tell me how that happened?" She asked, gesturing to the black eye Fynx had with her pen.

“You should see the other guy," Fynx huffed.

“I have," she answered unimpressed.

“What do you know," Fynx huffed and crossed his arms.

“It's been a week," she decided to change subjects. “How have you adjusted to prison life?"

“Fine," Fynx was short.

“No you haven't," she replied.

“What?" Fynx sat up. “Fuck you."

“You can lash out again, but it won't change the fact that your week sucked," she took her glasses off, her eyes golden and full of concern. “You can lie to me, but that won't change the fact that this is a transition, one that you've resisted every step of the way"

“I'm done," Fynx put his hands up.

“You don't get to do that anymore," she replied scribbling some notes. “I made a recommendation that our sessions be mandatory."

“Well, then I'm not talking, fuck you bitch," Fynx growled.

“Fine," she pulled out her phone and started scrolling, taking notes as she did so. “Either way, we're going to have each other for a half hour every week for as long as you're here. But just know, whenever you want to talk about something, whatever it may be, I'll be here."

She was there, the entire half hour, in silence.

***

“Why do you keep having me come here," Fynx snarled. “It's been two months of nothing."

“Like I said," she replied and put her phone down. “I think I can help you."

“I don't need your help," Fynx snapped back.

“No, you don't," she replied with a gentle tone. “But I think it would help you understand yourself better if you'd let me."

“Like what?!" Fynx threw his hands up.

“Like your obsession with Asher Anouilh for starters," she responded.

“How do you know him?! You been looking into me you little bitch!" Fynx snarled, his fangs bared.

“Not by choice, I assure you," she pulled her phone up showing that Asher was the victim of severe grooming and was now bearing his abuser's children. “It says he's having nonuplets and being harled as the next octomom. But, nonupto-mom doesn't have as nice a ring to it. He's been plastered all over the news."

“What do you know," Fynx hissed. “He's just some skank."

“Then why did you spend so much time grooming him?"

“He was just some bitch!"

“You've had plenty of other women in your life, what made him so special?"

“She's not special! She's just another hole!"

“If that's so, why was he held against his will at your penthouse and cabin? You've never had to hold anyone against their will since you took over your company. You're known as a playboy billionaire with throngs of people throwing themselves at you. What made Asher so special?"

“Nothing! She's a little fucking NOBODY! She's a skank! A Bitch! A piece of fucking rape meat! And He fucking LOVES it! He was begging me to breed him by the end! He was a little fag who loved to be beat down, fucked, cumed on like a fucking jizz rag! He's nothing but a little cum bucket whore who hid the fact he was a cunt boy from everyone! From me!"

“Does the fact he hid that from you make you think he was afraid of you?"

“Of course he was afraid!" Fynx snarled. “I made sure of it! He was a little faggot. And to think of all the time he wasted being a little fag instead of being a girl like he is! He chose to be a faggot because he likes to be treated like shit! Was practically squirting whenever I spat on him or kicked his ass. A good little punching bag."

“So, you're mad at him for not telling you he was a cunt boy, even though you made sure he was afraid of you?"

“Well…Yeah! The fuck is your problem!"

“I'm not the one yelling," she said calmly and firmly.

Fynx blinked and realized he was standing, his fists clenched, his tail thrashing, his heart racing with rage. He snarled and smacked the tissue box on the coffee table off to the side, the cardboard smacking against the wall.

“Shut up!" He barked before huffing and sitting back down. He refused to speak after that.

***

“Fynx, you're over the hump," the doctor smiled. “How does it feel knowing you're over half way to freedom."

“I'm only one day over the hump, bitch. Stop playing it up like I'm a child."

“Regardless I got a little something for your halfway mark," she pulled a pack of cheap cigarettes from her purse and tossed them to the snow leopard. He caught them effortlessly and he chuckled.

“You supposed to be handing these things out Doc?"

“Hey, I won't tell if you don't," she smiled and pulled out her own cigarette and lit it up. “So, you going to tell me anything today?"

“You think I'm going to spill my guts out because you're handing me a pack of cigarettes," Fynx crushed them and crumpled the box before throwing them on the ground, the tobacco leaves spilling out the cracks.

“I know you smoke," she smirked taking a puff and letting out slowly.

“And I can tell by the way you suck that cancer stick you don't," Fynx rolled his eyes.

“Fair," she dropped the cigarette into a glass of water. “Though, I thought it might get you to speak."

“I ain't going to spill over something so stupid," Fynx chuckled.

“I thought so," the doctor agreed before pulling out something bright and silver from her purse. “Though, personally hand crafted cigarettes must be much better than the crap you bum off others, right?"

Fynx eyes went wide as he noticed his cigarette case, his initials blazed across the silver. She even lit it with his plasma lighter.

“Hand that over," his heart skipped a beat as he smelled her sparking up the cigarette.

“Not unless we talk," she took a few clumsy puffs. “So glamorous, right?" She sighed. “I hope you know I'm ruining one of my favorite blazers for this bit."

“Bit! Those cigarettes cost more than your fucking office!" Fynx snarled.

“Yeah, I know where they come from. You can practically taste the tinny fingers of the enslaved child workers that wrapped them."

“Then stop wasting them!" Fynx snarled.

“You stop wasting my time," she smirked. “You know I've always wanted to do this," She took the cigarette and tapped the ashes off into the glass of water. It sizzled softly as she smiled. “Oh, how fun."

“Fine! What do you want to know?"

“Why did you bully Asher in high school?"

“Because he was a fag!"

“But he wasn't though, right?"

“No! He was some bitch pretending to be a fag because he liked to get beat up and shit!"

“And would you have treated him differently if you knew?"

“Of fucking course!" Fynx snapped.

“How so?" She furrowed her brow as she let the cigarette continue to burn between her fingers.

“I don't know! I would have treated him differently, maybe we could have even done something other than me just beating his gay ass."

“Would you have still beat him if he would have identified as a woman?"

“Of course! If a bitch needs to be beat into line, she needs to be beat."

“And would Asher have still liked it?"

“I don't know!"

“Do you blame him for not coming out to you?"

“Yes! The fucker shouldn't have lied!"

“Why? Didn't you want him to fear you?"

“Yes…I mean…No. I…Fuck!"

There was a pause as Fynx finally started to see the feedback loop that he caused. His eyes were darting back and forth as he realized that he made sure that Asher never would have told him. That his actions were the reason he never came clean.

“You want to know what I think?"

“You know I don't care what a dumb bitch has to say," Fynx snapped.

“Humor me and I'll let you have what's left of this," she said wagging the cigarette. Fynx stayed quiet. “I think, you liked the relationship you had with Asher, but because he allowed you to treat him the way you wanted to treat women, as objects and tools for your amusement."

Fynx snarled, but his eyes were stuck on that cigarette.

“I think, that if you had known what Asher was, that you would have actually liked him."

“Liked a little fag like that? Me and him? Friends? You're fucking clueless, bitch."

“Not friends, but partners," she said standing up and handing over the cigarette. “I think you two would have worked out in a strange way, fucked up as it is, but a relationship has give and take."

“What the fuck do you know," Fynx snagged the cigarette and instantly started dragging on it.

“Just like now, I took your time, and now I'm giving you what you wanted. We're both happy."

“I'm not," Fynx snarled, the smoke curling around his fangs as his heart and mind raced with the familiar taste of his signature nicotine.

“That's because you've never had to give. For a man who has it all, money, power, and status, you aren't much of a giver."

“You don't' know what you're talking about," Fynx puffed smoke back in her face, but it fell short. He was out of practice. “He loved being treated like shit. Craved it, even. I could have pissed in his cereal and he would have eaten it up."

“And yet, he was still afraid of you," she responded.

“As a faggot should be," Fynx snarled, but he felt something in the back of his mind, like he knew where she was going with this. “What of it?"

“Think on that for our next session," she smirked and shook the cigarette case. “I'll have more of these waiting for you."

[b][url=https://www.patreon.com/Bighope]HERE: Read the rest on my Patreon![/url][/b]