Hyena Hysteria, Chapter Two
Major Manly has seen better days. A tragedy at home, a depression among his co-stars, and the unwanted attention of a surly tigress has left him feeling down on the set of a high-budget orgy, where all the four lovely girls of YEEN'D.com were supposed to take him at once. This was supposed to be the day that Manly and the yeens took the industry by storm. Instead, he finds himself feeling alone, just taking what he can to survive.
Still, despite it all, there are some friendships worth fighting for. Sometimes, you have to return to your roots, just to appreciate the things you have.
Chapter Two: Up & Over
Summary: An orgy of feeling
Mike was being eaten alive.
He had Veronica on his dick, riding cowgirl, and Austin on his face, smearing nose to pussy, and Summer thrusting against his hand, shallowly humping his curled fingers, and Daisy somewhere off to the side, nibbling his arm like it was a piece of meat spitted over a fire. From every direction, he was surrounded by legs, teeth, arms, tails, knees, dangling breasts, squishy fat, thrusting fur, panting breaths and overacted moans.
Thighs.
Pussy.
Heavy ass.
Slick, drooling tongues.
Four tails whapping against his skin.
With his face buried between Austin’s legs, Mike thought about a nature documentary he had watched as a kid, where a group of hyenas devoured a wildebeest alive. He was developing a lot of sympathy.
Still, despite the chaos, Mike felt perfectly at home. This was not the first time he had been tag-teamed by multiple hyena women, and he had a very deep understanding of how each of the different girls liked to fuck. He bucked his hips in rhythm with Veronica. He mouthed at Austin’s swiping pussy. Using one of each hand, he curled his fingers against Summer’s velvet walls and Daisy’s gnawing teeth, all while he pretended to squirm and writhe across the soft sheets of the bed.
It wasn’t hard. Him and the girls had a comfortable style. They knew how to work together, how to push the boundaries without risking harm.
As long as they—
“Summer!” Charlotte yelled. “Raise your thigh!”
He felt Summer sit down, impaling herself onto three of his knuckles, awkwardly kicking Veronica as she wiggled her leg. It threw off his rhythm.
“Good! Andrew! Fuck his face!”
Austin reached down and gripped the edge of Mike’s neck, giving such a hard, smearing thrust that Mike worried she was trying to shave off his nose. He lost his chance to breathe.
“Put your weight into it, Andrew!”
“My name is Austin!”
“Whatever!”
Mike’s focus was gone. He couldn’t see anything other than pussy and ass. Even still, he imagined Charlotte actively prowling around the set, glaring at the orgy with a critical eye, like a circus clown who enjoyed whipping the animals a little too much.
The worst type of director, he thought, was the one who wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He felt sorry for the sound editor.
In glimpses between Austin’s thighs, he caught sight of the primary camera rolling on a dolly track, getting a wide angle shot. Two handhelds roamed the sides. A fourth crew member was hanging in the rafters above, rolling a bird’s eye view. Before the orgy went fully under way, Mike had noticed at least a dozen people standing vigil around the bed, monitoring the sound capture and checking the video streams. This was not a small-rate production.
It was very different than the first days of YEEN’D.com, when they had just been filming by themselves, in the comfort of Summer’s garage. He could feel this difference in the way that each the girls moved. They weren’t as comfortable. He—
Shit.
He forgot to breathe.
He gasped for air on the backswing of Austin’s thrust, which meant that he couldn’t brace for Veronica, which led to her slamming down on his dick with all the weight of a falling mattress, which further resulted in him curling his fingers inside Summer, causing her to gasp and stumble into Austin, who caught her balance by squeezing her thighs, which once again made Mike unable to breathe. Things rapidly fell apart.
“You moan like a virgin!” Charlotte yelled.
Summer sputtered out, embarrassed.
Blind, reeling, Mike grasped for Daisy, hoping to find something to anchor himself to. Seeing a cue to actually do something, the buff yeen directed his hand to her tits, giving a very subdued moan when he began to kneed the nipple.
“Louder!”
Daisy tried to moan louder. Her enthusiasm wasn’t there.
“Louder! Come on!”
Veronica sat down hard on his cock and began to pivot around the base, like a thumb roaming a joystick. She released a clean, professional moan.
“Not like that!” Charlotte yelled. “I can hear your stage training!” Distantly, Mike heard the approaching click of high heel shoes, like the tigress was roaming right into the shot. “All of you! Moan like you mean it!”
Veronica pelted out a low series of grunts. As if in contrast, Daisy went painfully loud, affecting a pleasure way higher than someone fondling her tits deserved. Somewhere in the middle, Summer released a high-pitched whimper, sounding more confused than aroused. And when all their voices joined into a climax, Austin gave such a deadpanned groan that Mike could have mistaken it for a dial-up tone.
For a long few seconds, the studio echoed with the voices of four inharmonious yeens.
“Cut! Cut! Cut!”
Mike was sitting on a folding chair, trying to recover.
He sipped on an orange juice. He was still naked. His pelvis was throbbing. He wanted to go somewhere quiet, and close his eyes, and not think about anything for a while, but he was only taking a tight five while the crew adjusted lighting, and he knew he’d have to flop back on the bed fairly quickly.
His eyes began to wander.
Daisy was doing burpees beside the sound equipment. Veronica smoked a cig by the studio entrance. Summer was daintily picking at the catering table, as if she wasn’t actually allowed to be there.
On the other side of the set, Austin was chatting with one of the camera operators, in a way that suggested the two were discussing technical specs. Like all the other actors, she was completely naked. No one cared. They’d seen it all before.
Mike settled his gaze on her, sipping on his orange juice.
He felt slightly weird for doing so, but he roamed his gaze across her body, taking note of the spots on her arms, the fluff on her neck, the glisten of his own saliva on her nipples, the interplay of fur and muscle on her abdomen, the way she cocked her hip, the transition from burnt gold to solid brown on the path down her long, digitigrade legs. He knew her body very well. It just . . . came with the job.
He didn’t know why he felt weird about it.
Absently, he licked the corner of his lips, where a trace of her arousal still remained.
His heart fluttered in his chest.
He almost rose out of the folding chair.
She had a couch in her apartment, a place where he could stay while searching for a new lease. He had slept on it several times before. More than anything, he knew she would want to help. She always took his lack of sharing personally.
He just didn’t know why he felt weird about it.
Suddenly, Austin paused her conversation. She looked back at him. When she realized he was watching her, her ears instantly folded down.
They locked eyes across the studio.
Mike licked his lips.
He began—
“Hey there, Manly.”
Charlotte stepped in front of him, leaning so heavily on the armrests of his chair that Mike was sure the flimsy wood would snap.
“Can I have some?” the tigress asked, gesturing to his juice.
“Uh—”
Without waiting for an answer, Charlotte plucked the cup from his hand, angling the tip of the straw between her fangs. She closed her muzzle. She took heavy gulps. Her eyes went lidded and soft. Mike was reminded of the time his childhood cat used to suckle on his finger, whenever she was in a playful mood.
Charlotte drank slowly. Her claws bristled on the arms of his chair, and her tail batted against the folding legs below, seeking out his naked feet.
Blushing, Mike tried to focus on the juice.
“Thanks,” she said, handing him a nearly empty cup.
“Yeah.”
“Hit the spot.”
“Sure.”
“Hmmm.”
Mike leaned so far away that he nearly tumbled out of the chair.
“So,” Charlotte said, leaning into the space he’d just created, “you feeling lonely?”
“Uh,” Mike said.
Very casually, she eyed his naked body, roaming from the top of his shaggy hair to the old, faded clawmarks all along his torso. Daisy had been helping him lift weights. He’d gained some muscle. The tigress clearly seemed to notice.
“Don’t we all?” he replied, hiding his dick between his legs. “I mean, don’t we all feel alone, sometimes?”
“Maybe we should help each other.”
“Oh, yeah. No. Uh . . . yeah.” He scratched his neck. “I mean, I know a good therapist. She’s a snake, but—”
Charlotte let out a deep throated snicker, each hum of laughter amplified by the purrs. “You know, humans all look the same when they’re nervous.”
“How’s that?”
She leaned so close that her whiskers brushed against his cheek. “Like a tasty morsel.”
Mike laughed very awkwardly.
“Let me invite you,” Charlotte said, breathing heavily on his face, “back to my office, after the shoot, so you can give me a private show.” She sniffed the ridge of his hair. “A couple drinks. Some dancing. Lots of fun.”
She mouthed a playful bite, just barely missing his nose.
Mike decided that he would rather cut his dick off with a rusty knife. “Gee, uh—I don’t know.”
“I’ll pay double rate.”
“Cool.”
“Pills and blow, sugar.”
“Oh, geez.”
“You know, the suits really love a rockstar. Someone who never says no.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’ll take you far, sweetmeat.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“So what do you say?”
Mike desperately searched for an excuse. “Uh, I mean—Austin drove me here. The yeens. So I’d need to go with them. Sorry.”
Charlotte’s body language immediately stiffened. Her flirtiness evaporated. “I’ll call a cab. And you better wash up, actually.” She took another sniff. “God, you reek of them.”
Mike allowed himself to frown at her. “I like the reek, actually.”
“You just don’t know any better.”
Mike let himself get angry. “Actually, I think—”
“Oh, whoopsie!”
Austin suddenly appeared. Mike had barely enough time to see a wall of spotted fur before the hyena was barreling into him, knocking the flimsy chair out beneath his legs. He fell backwards, hitting concrete. Charlotte landed on top. They both fumbled through a tent of wood and cloth.
“Aw, shucks!” Austin said, very loudly. “I’m such a clutz! My bad!” She bent down and yanked Mike to his feet, pulling him away from Charlotte. “You good there, babe?”
Mike rubbed his lower back, where he used to have a bad sprain. It was starting to ache. He might have to see Sarika. Something to take the edge off. . . .
His mind faltered for a moment.
“Yeah,” he said. “No worries.”
Charlotte grabbed the base of a light fixture, the hem of her skirt riding up past her crotch as she scrambled back to her feet. Mike discovered that she was wearing lacy panties. “You fucking bitch. What the fuck—”
“Oh, sorry!” Austin replied, loud and cheerful. “I just tripped on a wire! You know, I’m such a small town bumpkin, right? Oopsie!”
Charlotte glared at her.
“Hey, babe,” Austin said, turning to Mike. He only now noticed a full cup of orange juice in her paw. “Got you some fresh juice. Know you like it. And, uh—” She slapped the mostly empty cup out of his hands, letting it spill on the floor. “Whoops! Anyway, here you go.”
Mike took the new, undrunk juice. “Thanks, babe.”
“Sure, babe. Love you lots.” Austin stepped beside Mike, using the nearly two feet of height difference to stare at Charlotte over his head. “Did I interrupt something?”
Charlotte flattened her skirt across her thighs.
Behind her, a colorfully feathered parrot began to shout: “Call to set! We roll in one!”
“Oh, geez,” Austin said. “Time to fuck again, babe. Let’s go.”
“Sure thing, babe,” Mike said.
Austin guided him across the tangle of folding chairs and bundled wires, quickly emerging into the bright halo of the titanium lights. Once they were far enough away from Charlotte, she whispered in his ear: “You good?”
“Yeah. Thanks for the rescue, babe.”
“Oh, sure thing, babe.”
They waited at the edge of the bed. From all corners of the studio, Daisy, Veronica, and Summer shuffled their way together, barely greeting the other two members of the pack as they dove onto the bed.
Mike almost joined them. Instead, Austin touched his shoulder.
“You good, dude?”
He didn’t look at her. “Yeah.”
“. . . you sure?”
He felt her lingering touch on his shoulder, the warm presence of fur at his back. He thought about the couch in her apartment, where he knew she would want him to stay.
“Yeah,” Mike said, putting the orange juice where the cameras wouldn’t see. “I’m fine.”
He dove on top of the other yeens. For a moment, Austin stood alone, naked beneath the lights, before rushing in to join.
Mike was being eaten alive. For real, this time.
He had Austin behind his back, nibbling his shoulder. He had Daisy prone between his legs, jiggling his balls with her tongue. He had Veronica flat on her back beneath him, jamming her snout between his asscheeks. Somewhere to the side, he had Summer mouthing and biting at whatever part of him she could reach, from the tender meat of his bicep to the exposed flank of his hip.
Four tongues.
Dozens of teeth.
The feeling of hot, snorted breath on his skin.
Mike remembered the wildebeest in his nature documentary, deciding that it should feel sorry for him.
From below, Veronica licked across his taint, using the same techniques he always used to lick her pussy, all while Daisy pressed a nose into his shaft, giving a few probing nibbles. The two-pronged assault left him kicking at the sheets. Up above, Austin grabbed his chin in the crook of her paw, angling it up toward the primary camera.
“Moan for us, bitch.”
Mike pretended to cringe away.
With a theatrical growl, Austin took a big chomping bite out of his shoulder.
“Ohhhhhh, God!”
It was actually almost too much. He was so used to being the one who gave the pleasure, the one who licked pussy and fingered butts and got his dick smashed, that having all four of the yeens work him at once was like some sacrosanct reversal of morality. He wasn’t entirely acting when he flinched beneath their licks.
The thing was, like Charlotte, their tongues were covered in tiny barbs. They left the skin raw. They grated and tore. Each of their wet, dripping affections sent a shockwave through his body, something as dull as a hammer and hot as an open flame. He could barely stand it when Summer tongued his elbow, let alone when Daisy mouthed at his dick.
When Veronica spread his asscheeks, spearing her tongue into his backdoor hole, he gave a very whorish moan.
“Cut! Hold position!”
All five of them stopped. Tongues darted away.
Charlotte strode towards the bed. A chameleon clambered at her side, gripping a handheld in his jaw-like hands. The sound of approaching heels echoed across the studio.
“Close-up,” the tigress said. “Veronica, eat his ass again.”
Veronica glanced between Mike’s spread open asscheeks and the chameleon shoving a camera toward her face. “How do you—”
“No!” Charlotte yelled. “Daisy, out of the way!”
The buff yeen flinched from his dick. “Sorry, I—what?”
“We can’t see her eating ass if your face is in the way!” The tigress grabbed Daisy by the ear and pulled her cheek into Mike’s thigh, where she could lick his dick from the side. “There you go. Not that hard.”
Mike felt a growl rising in Austin’s chest. He kissed one of her tits, trying to placate.
He had to admit—the magic was gone. There was always a rhythm to a good fucking, an energy that had to be followed and sustained if you wanted a genuine performance. By slowing down for a close-up, Charlotte had turned the orgy of bites and licks into something as clinical as a surgery.
The tigress stood back from the bed, hands on her hips, looking at Mike’s dick and ass like she was still dissatisfied. “Can I get a boom over here?”
There was a shuffling. A crewmember appeared behind the bed, dangling a long fuzzy microphone close to Mike’s head.
“Right, okay,” the tigress said. “We’ll get extra sound capture, some bits for ADR. Manly, give us some moans.”
“Uh—”
“Veronica, eat his ass.”
With only a moment’s hesitation, Veronica gripped his ass, pressed her snout between his cheeks, and gave his sensitive hole a very deep lick. Mike bucked and gasped.
“Louder,” Charlotte said.
Veronica swirled her tongue around his entrance, going from flat to sharp. Mike flinched so hard that he nearly kicked Daisy’s tits.
“Come on,” Charlotte said, mildly annoyed. “He got an enema. Get in there.”
“Wait,” Mike said. “Wait—I’m gonna—fuck—”
The tigress snapped her fingers. “Daisy. Lick.”
It happened all at once. Veronica speared her way into the depths of his ass, at the exact same time that Daisy dragged her tongue from the skin of his balls to the tip of his bulging head. Mike gave such a particularly unmasculine moan that even Summer seemed embarrassed on his behalf.
“God!” he said. “I’m gonna—fuck!”
“Don’t talk,” Charlotte said. “Be a good slut.”
“Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
Veronica used every inch of her tongue, shooting and bathing and writhing. Daisy batted her snout, sniffed her nose, took a playful time of things. They coordinated. More than once, they moved in tandem, licking in alternating sequence. Both of the yeens had to hold Mike in place as he hissed and groaned, bucked and clawed.
“Good, good!” Charlotte shouted. “Attaboy, Manly. Just a few more takes, and—”
“Fuck!”
Mike screamed as he was dragged mercilessly into an orgasm, cumming a flurry of ropes, squeezing every furry thigh he could reach, burying his head in Austin’s neck fur as he tried to brace through the overwhelming pleasure. All the titanium lights blended into a white, blinding halo.
When he was done, he tried to look down at himself, flushing hot with embarrassment. He discovered that he had jizzed all over Daisy’s face.
“Aw,” the hyena said. “Cute.”
Mike released a groan straight into the boom mic.
From below, Veronica wiggled out from between his ass, smirking at him over the length of his softening dick.
“Shut up, V.”
The elegant yeen licked her chops, looking very pleased with herself.
Charlotte looked sourly at all the cum.
“Cut!”
Mike was outside the studio, trying to recover.
The sun had set an hour ago, letting him linger in the shadow of the orange studio lights. The concrete was warm beneath his feet. A cool breeze played across his skin. He was still naked, and he was now very aware of this fact.
He looked around again.
The main drag was empty. He watched a little longer. At one point, a golf cart emerged from an alley several studios to his left, whose passengers consisted of a golden retriever wearing dominatrix gear, and a leather bound gimp hanging from the side of the cart, squirming and writhing beneath the latex restraints. He moaned very loudly as the cart disappeared around another corner.
Mike waited for a few more seconds. Nothing else moved.
He sighed.
Quickly, he uncurled his hand, revealing an artificial fang clutched in his palm. He peeled back his lip until the gums were exposed. He pressed the tip of the fang right below the edge. With a very slight push, the fang broke the skin, and a wave of venom passed into his bloodstream, numbing everything that it touched.
He tossed the empty syringe into a drain. He leaned back against the studio wall.
Things relaxed.
He felt good. There was a tingling in his muscles, a heaviness to his breath. All the thoughts that had been racing through his mind dissolved into a warm, soothing euphoria. The experience wasn’t quite as good as a personal bite from Sarika, since the venom she prescribed for personal use was always denatured beforehand. Even still, it took the edge off.
He felt loose and cozy. He felt like the yeens could pound him for days.
He sighed, staring up at the starless night sky.
Eventually, he heard voices coming from the studio. He heard Daisy, Summer, and Veronica.
“—be a pack leader and force him—”
“—eah, well, you know how he—”
“—esn’t matter, they’re both gonna—”
Mike straightened up, rubbed some feeling back into his cheeks, and pretended to stroll casually around the side of the studio, as if he had just been out for a walk. He met the yeens at the studio shutters. He nearly ran headfirst into Veronica’s naked tits.
All three of them shut up immediately. He knew, right then, they were talking about him.
“Hey, guys,” Mike said.
Daisy and Summer glanced at each other.
“Oh, Michael,” Veronica said, perfectly smooth. She was always the most composed. “How’s it hanging, little man?”
“Hangin’ like your titties, baby.”
“Oh, darling. Do behave.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, anyway—can I bum a cig?”
“Well, I suppose you’ve been giving me a tiny stick all night. It’s only fair.”
He blew her a kiss. She batted it away, slapped a cig from her crumpled pack, and put it directly in his waiting mouth. They lit up and blew. Summer and Daisy stepped to the side, wrinkling their noses.
In the distance, a golf cart emerged from the mouth of a studio entrance, carrying a human with a wooden dildo strapped to his crotch, and a very devious beaver lady.
“So,” Mike said, taking another drag. “What’re you guys talking about?”
Summer gave a slight shrug. Daisy looked at the floor.
“Well,” Veronica said, leaking smoke from her nose, “I was telling them the film industry is a ruthless machine that will happily grind away their hopes and dreams.”
“Oh, yeah,” Mike said. “Totally.”
“See? Michael agrees.”
Summer shrugged. “I don’t know. Yeah. It’s just—” She glanced back at studio 17, where the technical crew was setting up the next scene. “What are we even doing this for, if it’s not for this?”
“Artistic vision?” Veronica offered. “Prestige and renown?”
Summer blew a raspberry.
“I thought we were just having fun,” Daisy said, quietly.
“We should have fun,” Summer agreed. “That’s what we should be doing. Not whatever the fuck this is. God, I hate that orange bitch.”
Veronica hummed in agreement.
“This isn’t the big leagues,” Mike said. “This is just a legacy studio. All of them are dying, nowadays, just like newspapers and shit.” He waved his cig, feeling slightly dizzy. “Let me tell you guys. These studio heads—they’re terrified of us.”
Summer raised a brow. Veronica fluffed her fur.
“They are, trust me. Look, it’s—” He knew that he was slurring his words, if only slightly. He kept going anyway. “Why do you think Smash Queen is trying to gobble up all these little websites? They know that’s where the business is going. Any anthro chick can buy a camera and sell herself online. It’s easy. You just type “big titty yeen smothers cute humie boy” into your search bar, and you get a million results, and most of it’s free. Like, who the fuck wants to pay for porn?”
“Most of our subscribers,” Summer said.
“Well, you know, my point being—we don’t need Smash Queen. They need us. They’re trying to save their big business by sucking off the little guys.”
“We can suck off our little guy just fine,” Veronica said.
“Shut up, V.”
She grinned like a yeen.
He took a drag of his cig, struggling to raise his arm. “You know what I’m saying?”
“Yeah,” Summer said. “Sure. I mean. . . .”
“Look, Summer, what do you want to do with your life?”
Her ears immediately flattened. “Uh—”
He reached up to grab Veronica’s shoulder, his face level with her tits. “V does small plays, a few acting gigs. She’s a real actress. You know, sometimes.”
“In spirit, if not in practice,” Veronica said.
Mike pointed at Daisy. “Daze, you’ve been quiet. What’s up?”
The buff hyena raised her gaze from the floor, caught off-guard. “Oh, uh—sorry. I just . . . I tried to pitch some dialogue before the shoot, and the lady on the phone was really mean about it, and I just. . . .” She opened her paws. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, fuck her,” Mike said. “What does she care?”
Daisy looked at the floor again.
“Hey, Daze, do you think we’d record all the dialogue you write if we thought most of it was dumb? Do you think we’d let you handle all the legal stuff if we thought you were dumb?”
She didn’t answer. Behind her muscular thighs, a tail began to swish.
“You’re a two-time regional frontrunner for natural bodybuilding. That’s what matters.”
“It’s not my career,” Daisy said, looking up.
“It could be,” Mike replied. “You should be fuckin’ proud of it, at least.”
Daisy thought for a moment, straightened her back, struck a double bicep pose, and kissed each of the arms. “Yeah! You know what? Yeah! I could beat her up!”
“Not like that, Daisy.”
“Oh. Well.” She twisted to the side, flexing a tricep. “Still! Yeah!”
“Summer?”
Summer flinched. “I don’t—I don’t know. What I want to do. I’ve never really had a—you know—a passion to follow. I’m just . . . me. You know?”
“That’s fine,” Mike replied. “I don’t really, either. The way I see it—that means you can do whatever you want. You can try anything. As long as you’re being honest with yourself, you’re doing alright.”
Summer blinked. Daisy slipped out of a rear lat spread, humming to herself.
There was a moment of silence.
“Oh, Mike,” Veronica said. “I see why Austin likes you.”
Daisy and Summer began to snicker.
“What?” Mike said, suddenly blushing very hard. “I just—what does—what do you mean likes me? Like . . . like likes me?”
Daisy and Summer laughed even harder.
“You both have that pack leader charm,” Veronica said, grinning wide.
“Fuck you, V.”
She leaned above him, lightly jabbing her cigarette. “You know, I lied. We were talking about you. You and her.”
“V!” Summer hissed.
“Oh, what? He’s figured it out, I’m sure.”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “I also figured you’re the drama queen of the group, so you’d just say it to my face.”
Veronica fanned herself with a paw, as if she was guilty as charged, and very proud of it. “You know what we thought?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“We thought it was about time Austin pinned you down and took what she wanted.”
Mike blushed extremely hard.
“In a manner of speaking, naturally.” Veronica blew smoke into the night. “Even still, we’ll tell her she needs to do something. And you know how she is.”
Almost involuntarily, Mike began to imagine Austin chasing him through the dark alleys of the studio lot, both of them naked, her size and speed completely outmatching his own. He felt a spurt of real, genuine fear.
He forced the feeling down. It was a stupid thing to think. None of the girls would ever try to hurt him, and he would be a real shithead to think of her that way.
Still. . . .
Veronica put a placating paw on his shoulder. “She really likes you, Mike.”
“I’ve never seen her get this flustered over a boy,” Summer added. “It’s pretty cute, actually.”
“Oh, it’s adorable!” Daisy squealed, clapping her hands. “I want pictures! Oh, baby pictures! Imagine the babies!”
“Oh, God,” Mike said. “Just fucking kill me.”
Veronica shrugged. “You’re the one avoiding her.”
“Yeah, well—” He rubbed his face. “Fuck.”
“Just talk to her, darling. It’s that easy. Either you solve this problem, or she’ll solve it for you.”
Mike lowered his hand, blinking hard.
His problem.
Shit.
His eviction.
He had been trying to work up the nerve to ask the yeens for help, and here he was talking to them about their own problems, when his own needs hadn’t even crossed his mind. He needed to speak up. This was the perfect chance to ask.
He looked up at the girls. All of them gave a sympathetic eye, as if they were sorry to put him in a tough spot, but they really just wanted the best.
He tried to speak.
“Call to set!” a crewmember shouted, deep inside the studio. “One minute to roll!”
He hesitated.
“What’s up, Mike?” Summer said.
“Something on your mind?” Veronica asked.
He closed his mouth. A wave of venom passed through his heart, soothing all it touched.
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
Mike would need to eat them alive.
Once again, he had Austin behind his back. Just ahead, the rest of the girls were stacked together, one on top of the other, like a totem pole made of pussy and ass. Daisy was on the bottom, because she was the strongest, and Summer was sandwiched in the middle, because she didn’t want the spotlight, and Veronica was on the very top of the pile, because she considered herself the frosting on the cake, and the frosting was obviously the best part.
This position was known as the pussy stack.
The rosy column.
The jiggling Jenga.
With cameras leering on every side of the bed, Mike stared at the tower of yeens. Three sets of pussies waited for him. Each of them was asterisked with a butthole. He suddenly felt as if he did not have enough dicks.
The wildebeest never had to deal with this shit.
Behind him, Austin wrapped herself around his kneeling body. She placed a firm paw on the back of his head.
“Get in there, bitch.”
She shoved him forward. Mike was planted face first into Veronica’s ass, and he did his best to start licking at once, digging his tongue through the tangle of her fur until he felt the soft yield of skin, which caused a very theatrical moan from Veronica herself. He couldn’t really tell if he’d found her pussy or her ass, but he began to sloppily make out with it, regardless.
Below, Austin was still pushing him forward. Summer’s ass pressed into his chest. His neck tickled with the fluff of her tail. Moments later, the front of his hips made contact with the bottom of Daisy’s thighs, and Austin began to work this area in particular, coaxing his own ass higher, grabbing his dick with her other paw and jerking it around like the antenna of an old TV. She was angling him for insertion.
All at once, Austin braced behind him.
“Batter up!”
She thrusted forward, which caused Mike to thrust forward, which slammed his dick straight into Daisy’s waiting pussy, which both made him shudder into Veronica’s moistened asshole, and caused Daisy to slightly lose her balance, nearly toppling the other two yeens straight off her back. The entire stack threatened to collapse.
Austin cackled with delight.
She wrapped her arm around Mike’s waist. When she pulled her hips back, he was forced to come with. When she thrusted again, his dick became the tip of the spear. Once she found a good rhythm, Austin managed to start fucking Daisy with Mike’s body, like he was nothing more than a dildo attached to her front. All the while, she still kept mashing his face into Veronica’s ass.
Between everyone, Summer whined for attention, insistently sticking out her own ass. With both his mouth and dick occupied, the only thing Mike could do was squeeze one of his hands through the tangle of yeens and start stroking her pussy.
Moans filled the studio. For once, they actually sounded real.
All the yeens giggled out their lines.
“Oh, he’s good!”
“Eat that ass!”
“What a cutie!”
“I wanna keep him!”
They all seemed in better spirits. There was a growing enthusiasm, a new kind of vigor in the way they bucked against him. Mike felt three separate tails start to whap across his body, and he didn’t need to pull his face out of Veronica’s ass to see why.
It was just like the old days.
They were having fun, and being a little stupid for the camera, and in this one little moment there wasn’t anything they had to worry about. Charlotte hadn’t once stopped to interfere.
Of course, once the thought crossed his mind, he became aware of Austin. She was pressing his face, and thrusting their hips together, and constantly reeling off lines. At the same time, she was also giving him little nibbles across the neck, and scratching his hair, and rubbing his groin with the dull pads of her paw, and it was all very tender compared to what she did for the camera, like she wanted him to know that it was all just an act.
Maybe he was just imagining things.
All of a sudden, he felt guilty. He felt afraid for how he was making her feel. He realized that the clock was still ticking on his eviction.
And just like that, the magic was gone.
Slowly, he began to hear the click of high heels across the concrete floor, prowling through the wires and dolly tracks. They moved like a predator that had just sensed weakness in their prey.
Eventually, the footsteps stopped at the edge of the bed. All the girls tensed.
There was a silence.
“One thing,” Charlotte said. “Daisy, move your leg.”
He felt Daisy hesitate. She was supporting the weight of three different people. It would not be easy to adjust. “Um—”
“Not a good angle, sorry.”
“Yeah, um . . . how should I. . . ?”
“Oh, like this.”
There was another click. A shadow lurched across the sheets. Daisy cried out in surprise, and the stack of pussies crumbled apart.
Mike had no time to brace. All at once, he had one ass crushing his skull, and another caving in his chest, and a third sitting very painfully on his dick, almost snapping it off to the side as the avalanche of yeens continued to roll across the sheets. The girls floundered. He was battered with limbs and fur. There were several very long moments where he couldn’t breathe at all.
Austin cushioned the impact. She helped him push off the various legs and titties. Once he could see the halo of titanium lights above the set, she leered above him, asking: “You good, dude?”
Mike spat out a wad of fur.
Off to the side, Charlotte straightened the lapel of her jacket. “Oh, whoops. My bad.” She looked directly at Austin. “I’m such a clutz.”
Austin nearly snarled.
Charlotte turned on her high heel, swaying her hips through the skirt. “Anyway, back to position. Let’s do it right this time.”
She walked off into the darkness. A dozen crewmembers kept their positions around the light fixtures and mounted cameras. Some of them laughed.
Outside the studio, it was just starting to rain.
Mike was in a dark corner, trying to hide.
He had left the set as soon as Charlotte yelled cut. He had avoided the catering table, even though he was hungry, and he had pointedly dodged away from the makeup artist, even though he was still covered in the sticky arousal of three different girls. Instead, he had lost himself in the maze of equipment casings across the eastern wall of the studio, which was piled high with hard shell plastic and glinting steel buckles.
He was still naked. He didn’t want to be naked anymore.
Christ.
Just before he disappeared, he had taken a glance back at the set, and he had seen all four of the yeens huddled together, talking quietly and seriously. He was very sure Summer had been pointing in his direction. At the moment, he was sitting his bare ass on the lip of a microphone case, nervously preparing to bolt in either direction. He flinched at every sound that echoed over the stacks. He could not stop remembering the conversation he’d had with Veronica, Summer, and Daisy.
I’ve never seen her get this flustered over a boy.
Just talk to her, darling.
You know how she is.
Jesus fucking Christ, man.
He realized, on a lot of levels, that what he was doing was childish, and stupid, and just making the situation worse. At the same time, there was a primal fear driving him to hide, which told him that Austin was a very belligerent girl, and she was more than capable of pinning him to the floor.
And she could rape him.
That was the thing.
That was always something that lurked in the back of his mind, when he was surrounded by all his anthro co-stars, who were taller and stronger than he could ever hope to be. He had heard the stories many times. Hell, wasn’t Charlotte proof that he always had to watch his back?
No.
Goddamnit, no.
Fuck.
That wasn’t it. He trusted the girls. They’d always been good to him. Thinking that way was completely unfair.
His heart pounded in his chest.
Why did he keep doing this to himself? Why was he always so fucking—
Daisy rounded the corner.
“He’s over here!”
Mike tried to sit up and run, but he stumbled on a pile of loose casing, and Daisy was able to grab him by the bicep, dragging him out of his hiding spot like the birth of a naked child. As he struggled against her grip, he saw Austin marching in his direction, her expression stony and serious.
“I’m not working out with you anymore,” he said.
Daisy gave an apologetic wince.
He gave one last desperate struggle, which didn’t actually break Daisy’s hold, but did surprise her enough that she let go on her own. He slipped away, sprinting down the maze of cases. He heard heavy footsteps. They were already very close.
“Mike!” Austin shouted.
He dashed through the corridors. He wasn’t faster than any of the yeens, but he was smaller, and somewhat more nimble, so he was able to duck beneath the lower shelves, and leap over the hills of black plastic, squeezing through the gaps in every aisle corridor. Austin just smashed her way after him.
“Mike!”
What was he doing?
He had to stop.
Why didn’t he just talk to her?
Shit, man.
Very quickly, he ran out of places to go, and he took a turn through a latticework of backstage scaffolding, finding himself in the backstage itself. This was the guts of the studio. There was nothing here but light switches, piles of old costumes, and a large collection of false walls hanging from a winching apparatus in the ceiling, each of them standing upright and pressing together like layers of a cake. They could all be deployed for a different background.
He was trapped.
He was making this worse.
Fuck.
There was a snarl right at his heels.
He ran for the backgrounds. They were tightly packed, about a dozen in total, composed of heavy plaster, dyed fabric, and cheaply cut wood. Each of them would crush several people if they ever toppled over.
Mike stuck his arm between too walls, felt the soft canvas of a green screen, decided it was good enough, and forcibly squeezed his body into the miniscule crevice, jerking and twisting as hard as he could. He was very thankful that he was naked, and sweaty, and covered in slick vaginal secretion.
A paw swiped his arm. Hot breath snarled over skin.
Mike scurried in as far as he could go.
When he looked back, Austin was trying to squeeze through the gap herself, to little success. She was too big to fit. Right now, all she could do was paw at him.
He breathed very hard, watching her struggle.
After several failed attempts, Austin glared through the narrow gap, her black snout wrinkling like a ballsack. “What kind of stupid fucking game are you playing?”
He almost responded. Instead, a pang of guilt seared through his stomach.
What was he doing?
He was making her mad.
He was being a goddamn idiot.
Mike swallowed, almost wishing the walls would close together, and crush him completely.
Austin growled. She stepped back, letting a shaft of light inside. A few seconds later, she reappeared, planting her paw on the edge of the green screen, beginning to push and strain and heave.
The walls shuddered. Up above, a mechanism groaned, wrenching itself apart. He could hear the sound of bending wood and cracking plaster. Austin growled so loud that Mike felt it in his chest. With a final heave, she threw her shoulder into the green screen, bashing it down like a firefighter breaking through a door, and some part of the winching apparatus finally snapped open wide, forcing half a dozen walls to flinch across their tracks.
There was now a wider gap. It was big enough that Mike could stretch his shoulders. Austin glared at him through the open crevice, her fur bristled and wild.
“Uh,” Mike said. “Sorry?”
She stormed inside. He ran away, utterly terrified. There was a flurry of awkward lunges and desperate scrambling. Mike started pulling on the green screen canvas, grabbing the unpainted planks of the opposite wall, using every leverage he could find. He was just about to reach the opposite end of the wall when Veronica stepped out from the side, blocking his only escape.
She gave a waggle of her fingers.
“Oh, for fuck’s—”
Austin grabbed him. She pulled, yanking, snarling, whirling him like a doll, slamming his back into the green screen and pinning his arms to the side. It felt like being struck by a train, and then watching in horror as the train grew fur, and claws, and teeth, and ate him alive.
Stop it.
Stop.
Stop.
Mike tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, they remained still, locked in a dark corridor, walls pressing down on either side. Austin breathed in his face.
“Thanks, V,” she said.
“My pleasure.” Veronica turned, walking out of sight. “Do be gentle, darling. I think he’s scared of you.”
Austin blew a sharp breath.
Slowly, the sound of Veronica’s footsteps grew distant. A door opened and closed. Somewhere beyond, Mike could feel the vibrations of the Smash Queen crew, from the murmur of several voices to the heavy thud of equipment being packed and disassembled. It was all very distant. There was no one backstage.
Austin glared down at him, her eyes glinting in the dark.
“Hey, babe,” she said.
“Oh,” Mike replied, pinned and breathless. “Hey, babe. Didn’t see you there.”
“You didn’t see me?”
“I guess not.”
“Kinda hard to miss me.”
“Oh, geez, babe, you know, there’s just so much going on.”
“Well, babe,” Austin said, “I’m surprised you didn’t see me.” She ran a finger across his wrist. “I’ve been here the entire time.”
“Ah, well. You know me.”
“Yeah. I do.”
They stared at each other. She was so tall, and pressing so firmly against him, that his chin rested on her tits, and the fur of her belly button rubbed against his nipple. Both of them could feel the other breathe.
It felt like the walls were starting to close in.
“What’s going on, Mike?” Austin said, lowering her voice.
He pressed his back into the green screen, trying to create some kind of space. The fabric stretched into the next wall behind it. He only got a few inches.
Austin immediately closed the distance.
“Tell me what’s up,” she said.
“Nothing’s up, dude.”
“My fuckin’ hairy tits, there’s nothing up. Don’t give me that shit.”
He tried to free his wrists. She gripped him harder. When she leaned above him, he caught a shadowy silhouette of her face, etched with flicking ears and slitted eyes.
“Let me go,” Mike said.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Austin said.
“Nothing is wrong.”
Her breath was hot and sharp. “I’m not fuckin’ stupid, dude. I know when you’re lying. You got sad and mopey all over your face, just like my cum.”
“Fuck you!”
He surged against her. She barely flinched. Instead, she took his wrists and spread them even further apart, which only brought their faces closer together. The black tip of her nose hung above his head like the business end of a hammer.
“Goddamnit, dude,” Austin said. “I just wanna talk to you.”
“Look, it’s my problem!” Mike yelled back, now feeling like the walls were crashing down around him. “Not yours!”
“Why are you hiding it?”
“I don’t know!”
Her snarl gained some teeth. She was looming over, pressing in, not giving an inch of relief. He was completely and utterly confined.
It felt like he was suffocating.
“Let me go,” Mike said, squirming.
“No,” Austin replied. “Mike, listen—”
“Let me go!”
“Listen—”
“Let me go!”
“Listen to me, motherfucker! We’re gonna talk about this!”
It was just like the other shoots. He was alone, surrounded, the girls were pinning him down, and he wanted to stop, but they kept going, the directors pressured him, he was uncomfortable, he was afraid, he wanted it to stop, he—he—
“You’re hurting me!”
“Mike—”
“Stop!”
He said this with such desperation, with such a painful crack in his voice, that Austin widened her eyes, immediately pulling back. In the darkness between the studio walls, she seemed to realize just how hard she was holding him down.
She stepped away.
He curled into the green screen, looking at the floor, whimpering beneath his breath.
After a moment, Austin reached out to him, and he flinched from her, and she flinched from his reaction, and he immediately felt worse.
“Mike. . . .”
“I’m sorry,” he said, nearly breathless. “I’m really sorry. It’s not you. It’s—I don’t know.” He swallowed. “It’s not you. It’s me.”
Her ears went flat. She seemed painfully aware of herself. “You know I’d never . . . hurt you. Right? This isn’t. . . .”
“Yeah, I know.” He swallowed again. “Sorry.”
“Alright. Well. . . .”
She reached out again, slow and gentle. When he didn’t resist, Austin grabbed his shoulder, pulled herself close, and wrapped him in a hug. His cheek pressed into her chest. Her fur was soft and warm.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He closed his eyes, burying his face in tits and fur. He returned the hug. She stroked his back, her muzzle breathing softly above his hair.
“I’m just worried,” she continued. “You know? I just. . . .” She squeezed a little tighter. “I care about you, dude.”
Mike shuddered between her arms. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, it’s not your fault, it’s . . . I get worried, and I want to help, and it feels like—like you don’t care about me because you won’t say anything, and I just. . . .”
Mike felt the rapid pounding of her heart.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” she said.
“It’s hard.”
“. . . I know.”
They stayed together. Outside, the rumbling of the studio crew filtered through the stacked-up walls, mixed with the sounds of dragging equipment and shouted conversation. It seemed like the shooting was beginning to wrap.
“You wanna talk?” Austin asked.
Mike focused on the feeling of fur, trying to gather himself. “Later. I promise.”
“Alright, dude. Thanks.”
She rubbed his back, being gentle with the pads. He stuck his cheek into her collar. The smell of dust and ancient plaster drifted above their heads.
“Hey,” Austin said. “You think Miss Orange Cunt coughed up a fur ball this morning?”
He blew a chuckle across her fur. “Probably too busy snorting catnip.”
“Maybe she kicked a puppy on the way into work.”
“I think she has teeth in her pussy, and likes to chew dicks.”
Austin gave a loud cackle. She pulled back from the hug, grinning wide, biting her own finger in demonstration. They both snickered like little kids. As they separated from each other, and the laughter slowly died, their gazes continued to linger. Neither of them looked away.
After a few moments, Austin tried to speak, her low smoky voice sounding very soft.
“Let’s get her,” Mike said, wiping his nose.
Austin paused, stumbling on her words. “W-what?”
“Charlotte. Let’s get the bitch.”
“I—what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Mike said, feeling a surge of determination, “that we need to fuck her over, before she fucks us instead. You know she’s going to. These industry types really know how to hold a grudge.”
“Well, yeah. Sure. But what do we even do?”
“What do you think?”
He gestured to the dull red streaks on his face, where Charlotte had licked him as soon as they arrived. Austin grimaced.
“She broke the contract,” Mike said. “She hurt the talent. If we can get her to do it again, on camera, we can lord it over her head, the same way that she does with us.”
“You want her to hurt you?”
“Well, I’d need to fuck her, probably.”
Austin looked down at him.
“You guys,” Mike said, “would be nearby, filming in the shadows, making sure she doesn’t go too far. Ideally, I’d fuck her in the studio, on the bed, where there’s already cameras set up.”
Austin didn’t respond.
“It’ll work. This bitch will slurp on my dick the second I pull it out.”
Austin tried to speak. “I don’t know, Mike. It seems a little—”
“Hey.” He stepped close. “I wouldn’t feel safe doing this without you. If you’re there, everything will be fine. You know, I. . . .” He had to fight himself. “I trust you. More than anyone else. With you, I could do it.”
Austin’s expression flickered back and forth. He couldn’t see her face very well, in the dark confines between the walls, even though she could see him perfectly fine. She must have seen that he was excited by the idea. She could probably guess that he wanted to take control of himself, to feel like he was using his body on his own terms, in a time where he really needed a victory. She did want the best for him.
And, of course, Mike was thinking that it didn’t matter if he fucked other people, because it was only sex, and it was just how things worked in this industry. It didn’t have to mean anything.
There was a long pause.
“Alright, Mike,” Austin said. “Let’s smear the bitch.”
“Hell yeah!” He flicked his head toward the end of the walls, where the light was shining. “Come on, babe. Time for a show.”
“Right behind you, babe.”
He turned toward the light. Just as they were about to separate, something occurred to him, and he stopped. “Were you gonna say something?”
Austin paused.
“Sorry to cut over you,” Mike offered.
“No, no, it’s fine. It’s. . . .” She paused again. “It’s nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, no.” She looked away. “Nevermind.”
He hesitated. For just a moment, he felt a stab of guilt. Then, he turned away, heading back toward the light.