FSE

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Chapter One:

Cherries

Red woke up, feeling uncertain.

It was late in the morning. They had clearly slept through their alarm. Sunlight skittered through the crooked blinds, falling in shafts along the carpet of Nancy’s room, giving a vague illumination to the bass guitars and MINISTRY posters and fist-sized holes in the plaster wall. For a moment, Red laid there, blinking at the light, licking at the sour taste of whiskey in his mouth. His head pounded. His crotch felt sticky and sore. He was thirsty and naked and hungover and generally regretting everything about last night.

“God,” he said, quietly.

He felt a breath. Beside him, Nancy was curled against his side, her brown, furry arm slung possessively against his chest. She was still asleep.

Despite everything, Red smiled.

He thought about kissing her awake. When he actually lifted his head from the pillow, pain flared through his neck. He remembered, all at once, that Nancy had bitten him last night, right in the middle of a mosh, right when the crowd was beginning to surge, and what had been intended as a surface wound had almost become a full steak dinner. She had dragged him into a filthy bathroom and licked it all clean, and even sucked his dick as an apology, but the damage had still been done.

“Shit,” Red said, wincing.

Nancy stirred, her whiskers twitching.

For a while, Red wasted time staring up at the ceiling of Nancy’s room, even though he knew it was very late in the morning, and both of them had to start getting ready for work. He told himself that he was just recovering from his hangover. In reality, he knew he was trying to delay things.

He knew he had to talk to her. They were gonna have a fight.

At least, Nancy would want one.

Red sighed.

The problem was that he knew Nancy was planning some kind of surprise. She’d insisted on taking him out to a bar last night, despite both of them having work in the morning. She hadn’t let him pay for anything. More blatantly, she had spent the entire night teasing him with vague hints and devious grins, making a little show of licking her fangs, like the thought of what she was about to do was making her antsy and ravished. This was the pattern he’d come to recognize—Nancy’s love language was centered around big gifts and dramatic gestures, and she usually went out of her way like this whenever she felt that he was drifting away from her, or she had just imagined that he was.

And this was a problem because. . . .

Well.

Red looked at Nancy again, who was still asleep beside him. Her short snout was hooked against his shoulder. The light from the blinds made her brown fur shine with a golden hue.

He frowned.

He wasn’t drifting away from her, necessarily. He really liked her. Nancy was fun and exciting and adventurous and a surprisingly affectionate person, once you got beneath the dyed hair and punky leather clothes. Genuinely, Red admired her. He may not have been ready to say he loved her yet, but the word was not far away. And, obviously, the sex was great. That almost didn’t need to be said. Even now, the feeling of her fur pressing against his naked body was. . . .

Red smiled up at the ceiling.

But. . . .

He frowned again, feeling a riot of thoughts.

But it wasn’t everything. He was realizing that more and more, the longer the relationship went on. It was great, definitely, but was it enough?

Was all of this enough? What they had right now?

Where was it even going?

Red’s heart began to pound. That was his real question, he realized, the worry that had been bubbling in the back of his mind. That was his problem.

Where was this relationship going?

He could enjoy the punk lifestyle as much as he wanted, but if he stayed with her, if he really committed to quitting his job and moving in with her full-time, like she kept pressuring him to do, would it really work out? Would she really be able to support him by herself, just working at a tattoo shop? Would they be able to support their kids?

Did they even want kids in the first place?

Could he really be a father?

Red took a sudden breath.

“Fuck,” he said, loudly.

Nancy stirred beside him.

Shifting beneath the ferret’s arm, Red looked at the clock on the nightstand, confirming once and for all that both of them had slept in way too long, and Nancy was definitely late for work. He had to wake her up right now. He shifted back, looking at her face, feeling the warmth of her fur, the way she had wrapped her entire body against him. The sun shone like a halo behind her. She looked so peaceful, sleeping against him.

She looked happy.

With a feeling of guilt, Red leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. The ferret’s breath caught. Her blunt claws dug into his chest, and a moment later Nancy was awake, blinking sleepily up at his face.

“Hey,” Red said, trying to smile.

Nancy’s face brightened. She returned his smile, grinning wide. She was happy to see him, and he was not happy to see her, and that only made it worse.

“Heya, meat.”

She darted forward, licking his cheek. Red gave a soft chuckle as he turned his head.

“Morning,” he said.

She growled, latching her teeth onto his nose. Red shook his head, like they were two dogs fighting over a toy. Both of them laughed.

“Hey, uh,” he said, his voice nasally. “You’re late.”

Nancy paused, her mouth still glomped to his face. “Hm?”

“For work. You’re late.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. She reeled back, her pink tongue poking through her snout. “Really?”

He pointed at the nightstand clock.

“Fuck!” Nancy hissed. She pushed up on his chest, ears straight. “God, I fucking hate the morning shift, who the fuck wants to wake up this fucking early, god fucking—” She looked around the room, almost desperate. After a moment, she paused and looked down at him, frowning. “Dude, you were supposed to wake me up.”

“Me?” Red asked.

“Yeah.” She leaned over him, eyes glinting. “You.”

Red just stared up at her.

“Come on,” Nancy said. “Apologize.”

“You have an alarm,” he replied.

“Nuh-uh, bitch,” Nancy said. “If you’re gonna be my husband, you gotta take care of things. I go to work and support you, you cook breakfast and eat me out. That’s your job.”

He didn’t answer. The word “husband” had just reminded him of all the things he needed to say. As the pause lengthened, Nancy climbed on top of him, ass to hips and hands to shoulders, as if making sure he couldn’t get away. Her breasts bounced beneath the gridded morning light. She’d gotten the nipples pierced last week, and the studs glinted as they caught the light. He could feel the cold ball of her clit piercing rubbing along his—

“Thirsty?” Nancy asked, wiggling her chest.

He’d gotten caught. From the tone in her voice, Red knew that she wasn’t actually all that mad at him, that she was mostly playing a game, and she didn’t consider being late for work to be that big of a deal.

But shouldn’t it be a big deal?

Shouldn’t she care a little more about their future?

He looked away.

“Come on,” Nancy cooed, grinding against his groin. Her clit piercing dragged along his belly. “Look at me.”

“Nance,” Red said, still not looking at her.

“Look at me, bitch.”

He looked at her. The expression on her face was still playful and devious, but there was a growing edge to her gaze. After another pause, her blunt claws dug into his shoulder.

Red tried to steel himself.

“Say it,” Nancy said.

“Nance,” Red said again, deciding all at once not to do this.

“Say you’re sorry for not waking me up.”

Red frowned, pursed his lip, and decided he actually should argue about it, because he knew Nancy wouldn’t face this problem on her own. He had to help her. And, actually, putting it like that made all the difference. He wasn’t being selfish—he was helping her by arguing his case. He was doing this because he cared about their future.

He just hoped she would see it that way.

“I’m sorry for not waking you up,” he said.

Nancy smiled, her fangs peeking out. “Good boy. Thank you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I mean. Sure.”

She frowned. They just stared at each other, naked and watching. Somewhere in the apartment, he could hear the quiet drone of their bat roommate’s music.

“Okay,” Nancy said, tilting her head, “well, you’re gonna lick me out this morning. Right in the kitchen. For breakfast.”

“Alright,” Red said.

“To make it up to me.”

“Sure.”

They looked at each other. Through the plaster wall, they heard the hiss of the shower, the sound of Beth’s music rising in volume. It sounded like Sisters of Mercy.

“Sure?” Nancy asked, staring down at him.

“Yeah, sure,” Red said.

“What does ‘sure’ mean?”

“It means sure, Nance.”

“No,” Nancy said, sounding edgy. “Sure doesn’t mean sure. It means, like, you don’t really want to, but you’ll do it anyway. Sure means ‘whatever’. It doesn’t mean yes.”

“I’ll eat you out, Nancy,” Red said.

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“I dunno,” Nancy said, looming above him, her claws leaving red streaks in his skin. “You tell me. What is the point?”

This was already getting out of hand. Red cursed himself for doing this first thing in the morning, at a time when she was already stressed about work, and both of them were still bruised and hungover. It had not been an optimal decision. By this point, she was giving him a hard stare, eyes glinting, blue hair falling in curtains across her cheek. Her nipple studs flashed with the advent of the sun.

Red tried to steel himself again.

“I was gonna surprise you,” Nancy said. “Or, anyway, I did have a surprise. I’d been planning it all week. But I guess you don’t wanna see it.”

“Nance,” Red said. “Come on.”

“Nah, forget it. It was a gift, but clearly it’s just whatever, right?”

He tried to push against her wrists. “That’s not fair.”

She growled, pushing her weight down, forcing him back into the sheets. “I guess taking you out last night was just nothing. Right? That money doesn’t matter. Me paying for food, drinks, cover charge, a new shirt—”

“A new shirt,” Red said, interrupting. “Yeah. After you bit me.”

Nancy’s eyes drifted to the large, purple wound on the edge of his neck. She winced. “I—”

“It’s fine.”

“No,” she said, backpedaling, “I fucked up. Sorry. The crowd just—”

“No, I know. I’m fine. It happens. That’s . . . not the point.”

For a moment, Nancy had looked genuinely sorry. The expression vanished. “What is the point? What’re you mad about?”

“I’m not mad,” Red said. “I just. . . .” He sighed, tearing his gaze from her face. He was trying to form his words into a coherent argument, and also calm his racing heart, and also clamp down on the boner he’d gotten from her sitting on him. “I just think we shouldn’t have gone out. You know?”

There was a pause. Red was a little too scared to look at her, so he kept going.

“Like, I saw the bar tab. The cover charge? Nine dollars for a beer? Jesus Christ, we can’t afford that. I don’t make that much, and I’m pretty sure you don’t, either.” He waved a hand across the blanket, towards the small expanse of her apartment room. “And now we’re both late for work, and, like, none of this would’ve happened if we’d just stayed in. You know? I just think both of us should . . . be a little more responsible.”

There was another pause. Red did not like hearing this long of a silence from Nancy, but he was committed now, and he had to keep going.

God help him.

“I just think,” Red said, “you shouldn’t take me out. Like, not all the time. We can’t afford it. You can’t afford it. And . . . you should care more about being late for work. It’s important. It’s our livelihood, you know? We’re adults. We need to support ourselves. We need to . . . think about our future.”

There was a third, final pause. Feeling like he was already being stabbed, Red managed to tilt his gaze from the ceiling down to Nancy, expecting to see a chaotic mixture of rage and scorn, her mustelid fangs poking out for a mauling bite. Instead, the ferret’s eyes had widened. Her ears were flat. Her entire posture was rigid and straight. Red realized that she wasn’t angry at all.

She was terrified.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Nancy asked.

Red opened his mouth in shock.

“What?” he said, blustering. “No! No, no, no, that’s not—”

Nancy took a pained breath.

“No,” Red said, trying to stroke her furry wrist. “That’s not what I’m saying. I care about you, Nance. I just—”

She ripped her hand from his grasp, sitting up fully on his waist. Her blue hair fell in ragged curtains as she breathed.

“Nancy,” Red said.

All at once, she leaped off of him, scrambling like an animal to the carpet, causing Red to lose his breath and roll back on the bed. By the time he’d recovered himself, Nancy was backing away toward the bedroom door, her lithe body slashed with the light of the blinds, her blue eyes so wide they seemed like moons in her face.

Red sat up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. “Nance, please. Can we just talk?”

Nancy grabbed backwards at the knob. Once she found it, she opened her mouth, made a small noise, and went sprinting into the common area of the apartment, becoming a blur of piercings and fur.

“Hey!” Red shouted, half-climbing from bed. “Come on! Just—” He waved a hand, nearly lost for words. “Just put some clothes on, at least!”

She didn’t answer. After a moment, pots clattered in the kitchen.

Was she making breakfast?

For a moment, Red remained where he was, dumbstruck. The sound of angry cooking filled the apartment. He glanced at the clock and swore. Gingerly, trying not to worsen his bruises, he trampled out of bed, padded over the clothes lining the bedroom floor, and stuck his head out the door, still as utterly naked as Nancy. The apartment was not very big. He could easily see her working at the kitchenette, making what appeared to be a breakfast of fried eggs and a fruit salad.

“Nancy!” Red called, leaning out the door. “Just—”

Something moved beside him.

“Gah, fuck!”

Beth, their fruit bat roommate, was hanging upside down next to Nancy’s door, like the chrysalid of some gothic caterpillar. Her wings were folded into a cloak, her black clothes and gloomy expression and dyed purple hair seeming to float like gasoline on a puddle. Maybe she was more like a vampire. Red didn’t know. Either way, she often startled him.

“Hello,” the bat said, peering at him.

Red almost returned the hello. Instead, he realized he was still naked and shrank back through the door. “Nancy!”

Nancy began to cook her eggs more aggressively. Her tail swished over a naked, well-toned ass.

“You too fighting again?” Beth asked, flicking her rope of purple hair.

“I guess, yeah.” Red looked at her. “I mean, no. What do you mean, again?”

Beth made a chortling sound.

“Do you have to hang right by our door?” the human asked.

“No,” the bat replied.

“Can you move?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t move from her perch. She just watched him. Red decided that he really did not have the time. “Nancy!”

Up ahead, Nancy paused in the middle of her cooking, halfway through ripping a bunch of cherries from their stems.

“Come on,” Red said, pleading. “Let’s talk.”

Nancy clenched the frying pan handle.

“Come on,” the human continued. “We gotta go. I’ll buy you breakfast or something.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Almost instantly, Nancy’s body went tense. She growled louder than the eggs. With a graceful dexterity, she whipped her torso around to face him, her upper half twisting a solid second before the rest of her body followed, her entire form undulating like a sheen of water. Red would have found it sexy, if she wasn’t glaring at him.

“Shut up,” Nancy said. “You’re not buying shit. I’ll buy you shit.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I just—”

“Come here.”

Red tried not to shrink from her.

“Come here.”

“Nance,” Red began.

“Shut up!” the ferret yelled, so suddenly loud that even Beth rocked on her perch. “Come here, bitch! Right now!”

Red glanced back into their bedroom, looking for his clothes. “Okay, shit, just let me—”

“Hey!” Nancy shouted. “Did I say get dressed?”

“I—no?”

“That’s right,” Nancy said. “Now come over here. I’m gonna give you your surprise.”

Red hesitated.

Nancy beckoned with a finger.

Sighing, Red emerged from the safety of their bedroom, still completely naked. He padded across the apartment common area, looking at the carpet. By the time he got to Nancy, he was feeling thoroughly embarrassed, like the entire thing had been a bad idea from the start. It didn’t seem to matter that Nancy was just as naked as him. She had fur, and he didn’t. She also didn’t care. He did.

That was the problem.

He stood in front of her, waiting for the punishment. Instead of immediately mauling him, Nancy leaned back on the kitchen counter, her gaze lowering down, taking in the contours of his naked body, doing it so slowly and obviously that it was almost like saying she owned him, and she could do with him what she wanted. Slowly, her gaze settled on his dick.

She brightened with an idea.

“Nance?” Red asked, fidgeting.

“God,” she said. “You’re adorable.”

He blushed even harder.

“You’re such a good boy,” Nancy said, looking up from his dick. “You know that?”

“Uh. Okay?”

“You do everything I ask,” the ferret continued. “You play along, you put up with my shit. You let me spoil you. You get me, Red. You know? I think you really . . . understand me.”

He nodded, slowly.

Nancy glanced down at his dick again, then back up to his face. Her paw played at the cherries on the counter. “And the fact that you’ve seen all of me, the fact that you’ve,” she waved around herself, “you’ve seen all of this, who I really am, all the terminal shit that’s wrong with me, and you’re still here. You know? It’s just. . . .”

She took a small breath.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, Red.”

Beth made a chittering sound behind them. If Red wasn’t naked, he would’ve turned and yelled at her.

“I need you,” Nancy said.

Red tried to steel himself again.

“Well,” he said, blustering. “Look. I’m not gonna—”

Before he could finish, Nancy raised her leg all the way to his head, hooking her footpaw behind his neck. She yanked. He lost his balance, falling to his knees on the hard kitchen tile. With a graceful shifting of weight, Nancy curled her leg around his shoulder, locking her knee behind his head. He already knew what was about to happen.

“I need you to do your job,” Nancy said.

She flexed her leg, and Red went face-first into her crotch. It was a rough collision. He hit her groin more than anything else, the soft expanse of flesh between belly and pussy, and the only reason he didn’t pitch forward and fall was because Nancy was flexing her leg behind his head, sealing him tightly in place. Once he recovered himself, Red had to spend a few moments shuffling on his knees, crawling to her, planting his body between her legs, blowing the soft tufts of pubic fur from his nose.

Above, Nancy watched him from between the valley of her breasts, a smile still on her face.

“Lick,” she said.

Red began to lick. At this point in their relationship, eating her out was a well-worn routine. He craned his neck, his nose carving through her lips, his tongue circling at her opening, staring up at her from across the white expanse of her belly.

“Think about our future,” Nancy repeated. “Bitch, this is your future.”

He kept licking. Slowly, he began to alternate with mouthing sucks, dragging her lips out, using his nose like a trowel to dig through her folds. Her clit piercing—a fat, gleaming stud the size of a wedding ring—kept bouncing against the bridge of his nose. When he made a particularly long lick, the stud pulled with him. Nancy hissed.

“Okay,” Beth said, behind them. “You guys are weird. I’m leaving.”

“Bye, Beth!” Nancy called, her voice breathy and cheerful. “Hey, you wanna hang out later? Go see a show?”

“Not really.”

“We should hit a concert!”

“I’m good.”

“Alright! Don’t be a stranger!”

Beth made a swooping sound, which could’ve been a snort.

Nancy waved at the retreating bat, grinning and friendly. Red didn’t look up from what he was doing. After a moment, smoke began to rise from the kitchen counter. The eggs were starting to burn. Without missing a beat, Nancy squeezed her thighs around his head, twisted her torso, dumped the pan of eggs onto a plate, and began to spear at them with a fork, settling back against the counter with a sigh.

This continued for a while. Nancy ate breakfast. Red ate her. She alternated between the fried eggs and the bag full of cherries, while he made a show of licking folds and sucking flesh. At one point, he pushed his head back against her thighs and took her metal piercing into his mouth, pulling on it for stimulation. Nancy hissed again.

“Don’t be cute,” she said. “You’re being sorry.”

He kept sucking on the stud, staring up at her eyes.

“Don’t look at me!”

Red flicked the stud with his tongue.

“I swear,” Nancy said, “if you look at me again.”

Red made his eyes as big and innocent as possible.

Nancy growled, put her half-eaten plate in the sink, and stood up from the counter, moving forward so suddenly that Red almost fell onto his back. The only thing that kept him upright was the vice-like hold of the ferret’s thighs. He gripped her hips for balance. Above, Nancy gave a toothy grin.

“You want your surprise?”

Red sputtered words into her pussy.

There was a click. Before he could even react, Nancy sealed the magnetic clasp of a collar around his neck. It was immediately too tight. His skin bulged around the metal, catching his breath. Red tried to reach between Nancy’s legs, trying to tug at the sudden intrusion, but she beat him to the punch, hooking a finger through the band and pulling him up between her legs, sealing his face against her sodden lips. He nearly choked.

“Ta-da!” Nancy said, still grinning. “Now we’re married!”

Red sucked a breath through her rosy folds.

“Oh, come on. Did you think you were getting a ring?”

Red blushed.

Nancy held him there for a moment, tracing a blunted claw from one edge of the collar to the other, as if admiring the texture. “Do you like it?”

He nodded.

“Are you gonna be my pet forever?”

He just kept licking.

“Yes?” Nancy asked.

He sucked on her stud again.

“Answer me, pet.”

He stuck his tongue into her pussy.

“Fine,” Nancy said, grinning. She grabbed his head with both hands. “I’ll just let you kiss the bride.”

Suddenly, she began to fuck his face, bucking hard, using his tongue less like a dildo and more like a landing strip. Red found himself trapped, off-balance, half-falling to the floor, the metal collar pinching into his neck, just trying to hold onto Nancy’s waist as she thrusted and took her pleasure. Hot flesh skittered over skin. Wet fur brushed his eyes. Her sticky grool oozed down his chin and neck. The only place he could breathe was between the cheeks of her ass.

“Shit!”

Nancy was already close. He could feel it in her trembling legs, her whapping tail. She was trying to hide how much she wanted to cum.

“Fuck, Red!”

He took a solid grip on her hips, helping her along.

“Red!”

She climaxed all over his face, groaning, holding him with hands and thighs as she moaned out her orgasm for the entire apartment to hear. Red continued to lap at her, struggling to swallow. Both of them breathed and clenched. Eventually, the wave subsided, and Nancy released a pant, unclenching Red’s head just enough that he could fall back to the floor. A trail of sticky strands broke from each of their lips.

Inside her room, Beth turned up her music.

Nancy stood above him, panting, legs spread, the fur around her crotch wet and clumping and slick. “Good pet. Oh, such a good pet.”

Red laid on the cold kitchen tiles, naked and sweaty, trying to breathe. His face was just as red as his hair.

“Hey,” Nancy said.

Red made a noise.

The ferret nudged his face with her toe. “Hey.”

“Huh?”

“You’re coming to work with me.”

Red blinked, licking the cum from his lips. “What?”

“It’s take your pet to work day,” Nancy said.

“. . . is it?”

Nancy broke into a fit of giggles. All at once, she knelt down beside him, lifting his head, kissing him full on the lips. Her breath was happy and excited. When they broke apart, the ferret was grinning wide.

“You’re mine, Red. You know that, right?”

He felt the collar on his neck. “Yeah.”

“Nothing’s gonna change that.”

“. . . yeah.”

She looked at him, smiled, kissed his forehead, and stood up tall, a strand of grool and saliva roping from her pussy. “I’ll call off work for you. You get dressed.” She paused. “Or don’t. That’d be cute.”

Red sighed.

Nancy sauntered off toward the apartment’s only bathroom, humming a riff from the Violent Femmes. Red tilted his head along the tiles, watching her go. He heard the bathroom shut. He listened for the shower turning on. Once the hiss started, he got back to his feet, wiped his face with a paper towel, and went looking for his clothes. When he was done, he returned to eat the cherries and eggs that Nancy hadn’t finished.

He felt his new collar every time he swallowed.

Chapter Two:

Berries

Red was still fidgeting with the collar as Nancy pulled into work.

The drive to the tattoo shop from Nancy’s apartment usually wasn’t too bad—on a good day, it was about fifteen minutes without traffic. Today was not a good day. Because they started late, both of them hit the exact type of morning traffic they were usually able to avoid. Halfway through, the sun was swallowed beneath the clouds, and it began to rain. The result was a gloomy, thirty minute slog through bumper-to-bumper traffic on rain-slicked streets, where the red streetlights smeared the car windows like blood.

Nancy didn’t seem to mind. The whole time, she was blasting songs on the radio and chatting about going out again, living it up on the scene. Red wanted to be happy that he’d cheered her up, but his heart wasn’t there.

As she swerved into a parking spot, he tugged on the collar again.

Was he really doing this?

The tattoo shop, Black Rose Parlor, was a grungy little hole sandwiched between a Verizon mobile store and a Vietnamese pho house in an unremarkable strip mall on the outskirts of the city. He’d been there once or twice before, mostly to pick up Nancy when her car was in the shop. The staff were mostly people like them—punks, goths, rebels, people on the fringes of society. They were used to seeing weird shit.

But would they play along with. . . whatever was going on here? Take your pet to work day? Nancy had talked like she wanted him to bark and roll over. Would she make him eat out of a dog bowl again?

He cringed in the passenger seat.

“Nance,” he said.

Nancy paused, jerking up the parking brake. She had put on her blueberry blue lipstick. Her lips were shiny and wet.

“Can we talk?” Red asked, blushing.

She stared at him, unmoving.

He tugged at his neck collar, which was tightly suspended against his Adam’s apple. He felt it jiggle with every word. “Like, really talk? Please?”

“Oh, what’s that?” Nancy asked, grinning. “Does Reddy boy want a treat?”

He grimaced. “Nance.”

“Good boy! Speak!”

He frowned at her.

“Awwww,” the ferret cooed, leaning across the center divider, “are you excited to see your master’s job? I’ll bet you’ll enjoy the smells!” She looked through the windshield at the shop. “I mean, the customers are kinda gross—like, please take a shower—but, uh, the ink smells cool! Lots of piercings! Wow!”

Red threw up a hand. “Do you actually expect me to act like a pet? Like a dog?”

She looked at him, eyes glinting.

“Nance.”

“Come on, pet,” Nancy said, opening the driver-side door. “Up and at ‘em. Don’t make me get the leash.”

“Nancy!” Red hissed. “I don’t want to break up with you!”

The ferret froze in place, halfway out the car. She looked back in shock.

“Okay?” Red asked, suddenly mad. “I don’t wanna breakup. Just—fucking—me having an issue with our relationship doesn’t mean the end of the world. This isn’t helping things. You and I need to be able to talk.”

Nancy continued to stare. This time, there was no smile. Rain pattered on the sleeve and spikes of her leather jacket. Trees swayed with the wind.

“I just want to discuss our relationship,” Red said. “Can we do that?”

She had the same terrified look as before. He was losing her.

“Nancy, please.”

“Just do this for me,” she said, quietly.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Why? Why do I need to do this?”

“Because!” Nancy said, suddenly shouting back. “Because I want you to! Because that should be enough! I just—” She broke off. A gamut of emotions ran through her at once. She tried to speak, looked at him, closed her mouth, and went racing toward Black Rose Parlor, her tail between her legs.

Red sighed.

He got out of the car, wincing at the rain. He went around and closed the driver door. By the time he started crossing the parking lot, Nancy was standing by the glass push-door outside the tattoo parlor. It was obvious that she was waiting for him.

Waiting for what?

Red slowed to a stop. He stood in the rain, realizing he had already made an unconscious decision. After a moment, he got down on all fours and crawled the last remaining distance to Nancy, his ass wagging in the air, his head dipping down to sniff at the asphalt parking lot and the concrete walkway around the strip mall stores. At one point, he barked at a lady walking her chihuahua. The creature yipped. People stared. A homeless looking guy watched from an archway. More than likely, he was being recorded by several different cameras.

When he got to the door, Nancy looked so happy she was about to cry.

“Good boy,” she whispered.

Red smiled.

Nancy bent down, hooked a finger beneath his collar, and pulled him to his feet, brushing the red hair from his face. She began to fuss over his appearance. When she realized that the lady with the chihuahua was glaring at them, she flipped the woman off.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just—” She straightened his jacket. After a moment, she wiped a crust of her own cum from the corner of his mouth.

“Nance?” Red asked.

“Yeah,” Nancy replied, breathy. She tilted his chin up with a thumb, checking the wound on his neck. “No, I just wanted to show you off. That’s it. They wanted to meet you.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to be a pet.”

“I am your pet,” Red said.

“Well, yeah.” She looked at him. “Duh. But, like, a normal pet.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Fucking—I don’t know.” Nancy paused, her eyes flicking down to his crotch. “I—you know—I had another surprise for you. A bigger one.”

Red tilted his head. Nancy had been having a lot of mood swings all morning, so he wasn’t sure if this was a positive development or a prelude to another punishment. He said nothing.

“If you want,” Nancy said. “I mean—”

“Nance,” he said. “I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”

She looked up from his crotch, eyes jumping between his collar and his face.

“Anything?” she said.

“Anything.”

They looked at each other. Behind them, the homeless man shuffled from beneath a walkway column, muttering beneath his breath. He seemed angry.

“What,” Red asked, “you want me to get a tattoo or something? Your face on my ass? ‘Property of Nancy, Do Not Chew?’”

The ferret hummed. “There’s an idea.”

“You had something better?”

“A lot better,” Nancy said, watching him.

“Well, whatever you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She paused. After a long moment, she bent down, kissing him on the mouth, her paw gently stroking his cheek. She tasted like blueberries.

“Trust me,” she said, and entered the store.

Black Rose Parlor was even smaller than it looked on the outside. There was a tiny seating area, a low reception desk, a bouquet of plastic roses, a set of fake jail cell bars dividing the front of the store from the back, followed by rows of black leather chairs that lined the rear corridor. There were glass cases, huge posters. Tattoo designs cluttered the walls. All the colors leaped at him. He was so blinded by the busyness of it all that he nearly walked straight into a rack of nosestuds.

In the back, a tall, lanky cat was bending over a human woman, working a flaming skull into the skin of her thigh. His fur appeared mottled, like he scratched it too much. He looked up at the sound of the door’s ringing bell.

“Yoooo!” the cat yelled, sitting up. “It’s Nancy pants!”

Nancy marched through the reception area. “Z-man!”

The cat put his needle down, left his customer in the chair, and gave Nancy a chest bump as she marched into the back. They threw some fake punches. Giggles were had. Once the male cat was standing under the ceiling lights, Red realized that his fur wasn’t actually mottled or falling out—the cat just didn’t have any fur at all. Instead, what Red was seeing was a whole network of tattoos, snaking up and down the arms and neck and chest of his open tank top, things like surf-boards and tribal lines and fish-hooks and grinning skulls smoking a joint. Nancy’s coworker was one of those hairless Egyptian breeds, his blue eyes looking almost cartoonishly huge on his skull-like face.

“Girrrrrrl,” the cat said, “man, what is up? Feels like forever.”

“Same old, same old,” Nancy replied, grinning.

The sphynx made a tch with his tongue. “I hear that. Just chillin’, right?”

“Best I can.”

“Truth, truth.”

Red coughed, tugged at his collar again, and pretended to putter around the reception area, trying to find something to do. As if sensing his absence, Nancy made a whistle, followed by an impatient point to her side. Red stumbled around the waiting chairs and passed through the fake jail cell bars that separated the front and back of the shop, where Nancy and her coworker were waiting.

“Yo,” the cat said. “So this is him.”

Red offered a handshake. The tall hairless cat gave a friendly smile and proceeded to skin and bump. Red tried not to stare at the sleeve of tatts on his arm.

“She talking about me?” the human asked, just to say something.

The sphynx snorted. “Oh, bro, she will not shut up about you. All she talks about is Red, Red, Red. Red’s a dream, Red’s the best. Oh, Red lets me do this. Isn’t he the best?” He began to mimic Nancy’s voice. “‘I’m gonna suck a litter out of that man’s dick’.”

Nancy shoved the cat, playfully abashed.

“Uh,” Red said. “I do my best.”

“Careful, man,” the cat said. “This girl’s nuts about you. I love Nance, but she’ll get her claws in. You watch yourself.”

“Zach!”

“Girl, you will!”

“Uh,” Red said, blushing hard. “Uh, so you’re Zach, right?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nancy left the conversation and roamed over to her own tattoo station, organizing the ink cartridges, warming the little bubbler into a sterilizing boil. Red struggled not to watch her.

“And you’re the dude,” Zach replied. “The one and only.”

Red flipped his long red hair. “Red as ever.”

“Tch. I see that. Good locks, bro.” Zach gestured at his gaunt, wrinkly face. “Sure beats my raw chicken ass.”

Red gave a genuine laugh. Up close, he could get a good look at Zach’s tattoos, which he took a moment to recognize as Māori Ta Moko tatts. The cat did sound like he had a slight surfer accent. Probably from Hawaii.

“So, what’s good, man?” Zach continued. “You droppin’ her off, or. . . ?”

“Uh,” Red said, glancing at Nancy. “I guess I’m hanging out.”

“Oh, for real? Hell yeah. More the merrier, bro.” The cat nodded along to himself. “Gonna be a good day. I got Nancy pants, got her boytoy, got all the—” Zach paused in the middle of the aisle, as if remembering something. “Oh, actually. Nance. That guy’s been scopin’ us again.”

Nancy made a grunt.

“That guy?” Red asked.

“Oh,” Zach said, “just some tweaker-ass dude who wants to start some shit. Guy’s crazy. Been hanging around the store.”

“Like, right outside?”

“Yeah, man. Why, you seen him?”

“Yeah, actually,” Red said, remembering. “There was a guy out there.”

Both Zach and Nancy paused. After a beat, Nancy grabbed one of her needle guns, slotted a dagger-sized needle into the hole, and marched to the front of the shop, pressing her nose to the glass window.

“Gone?” Zach asked.

“Yeah,” Nancy said, blowing a raspberry. “Pussy. I’d fuck him up.”

“Yeah, yeah, girl. Don’t go stabbin’ dudes.”

Nancy wandered back, throwing her needle gun onto a rack. Zach made a tch sound, bending over the human woman’s thigh.

“Should we do something?” Red asked.

“It’s whatever,” Nancy said. “Cops won’t do anything.”

“Get all sorts around here,” Zach said, snorting. “Every bum-ass weirdo wants a tatt these days. Uh, no offense.”

The woman looked mortified.

Red stood in the middle of the leather chairs, not knowing what to do with himself. After a moment, Nancy looked up from her collection of needles, giving Red a smile in the reflection of her mirror. Red made an awkward return.

“Yo, Zach,” Nancy said.

The sphynx looked up from his work.

“Did want to give Red a surprise, actually,” Nancy said, beginning to grin. “The dude special.”

The cat raised his hairless brow. “Shit. Okay.”

“You good for that?”

“Tch. You don’t wanna do it?”

“I’m gonna hold him down,” Nancy said.

Red began to fidget even more, feeling very exposed.

“Yo, Red,” Zach said. “Sure you want this, bro?”

“Of course he does,” Nancy said, immediately. “He’s doing it for me. Right, Red?”

Red hesitated. He had no idea what the dude special was supposed to be, but, judging from the way Zach had reacted, and the way Nancy was grinning at him, it was not a very usual request, and it would be something he might regret. In a place like this, saying yes would mean a permanent change to his body.

The decision didn’t take long.

“Anything for you, Nance.”

Nancy’s smile gained some teeth. She blew a kiss at the mirror and returned to organizing her needles, working just a little faster, a little more happily and cheerful, like she usually did whenever she was excited about a plan. On the other side of the parlor, Zach gave Red an impressed look, as if what he was doing was very romantic.

Maybe it was. Red didn’t know.

He took a calming breath.

“One minute, bro,” the sphynx said. “Almost done here.”

Time passed. Red ended up wandering back to the reception area. He flopped into a chair. His foot tapped with nervous energy. He couldn’t see the back of the store from up front, so he had no idea what Nancy was doing. A few times, he saw people passing in front of the shop window, though it was never the same homeless guy as before. Eventually, the human woman came limping through the fake jail cell bars, her thigh bandaged all the way to the hip. Zach ran her through the payment process. She left the store with a bag of gauze and antibiotic ointments, the door bell ringing behind her.

Zach slammed the register shut. “You ready?”

Red began to answer, but Nancy spoke up first.

“Oh, Red! Come hee-eerrrre!”

Zach raised his brow. Red sighed and got to his feet. When he peeked through the fake jail cell bars, he saw Nancy hovering over the back of a leather armchair, which was situated at the very back of the store. There was a crown of piercing needles surrounding the chair, both the arms sentried by towering glass cases, each full of metal studs. A blue drain pan sat at the feet.

Nancy waved her arms like a gameshow host.

“Come on down, come on down! Get your prize!”

Red stared.

“Where, oh where,” Nancy called, “is our lucky contestant?”

Zach gave a mild chuckle, checking the store window for customers before padding toward the back. Red followed at a distance.

“Here he is!” Nancy announced. “Our lucky boy! Oh folks, we have a show for you tonight!” She dashed forward, holding an imaginary microphone out to Red. “What’s your name, good sir?”

“Uh,” Red said, speaking into her hand. “My name is Carmine Maximus the Third. Formerly the Crimson King.”

Nancy made a loud incorrect buzzer sound.

“Uh,” Red said. “My name is Red.”

Nancy made the buzzer again.

“Uh, so, I’m Nancy’s bitch.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Nancy threw an arm around Red’s shoulder and half-led, half-dragged him the remaining distance to the chair, sweeping an arm over the black leather. “Welcome to the good boy chair! This is where dreams come true! Zachary, tell our good boy what prize he’s won!”

“One sec,” Zach said, entering a storage closet. When he opened the door, it immediately smelled like weed.

Red frowned at the surrounding needles. “It’s a piercing, isn’t it?”

Nancy tightened her arm around his shoulder.

“Am I right?”

“Mmmaaayyybe.”

Red wasn’t phased by this. Most of the people in his life had gotten at least one piercing before, including Nancy, who currently had several—one in her belly, one on each nipple, and a big ring stuck through her clit. He’d been planning on getting one soon, anyway. He knew what to expect. “Alright. Where?”

He could feel Nancy grinning beside him. To the side, Zach rummaged through the closet.

“Nancy?” he asked. “Where?”

“Take off your pants.”

He turned his head. Nancy was leaning against him, smiling so wide her teeth nearly glowed. She nodded toward the chair.

“Take ‘em off, contestant.”

“Oh my God,” Red said. “You want to pierce my dick.”

Nancy laughed into his ear, as if the jig was finally up. Red blushed. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it coming. The dude special, the look on Zach’s face, even all the little glances Nancy had been stealing at his crotch.

“Holy shit, Nancy!”

“Come on,” the ferret said. “Trust me.”

“This is your surprise?”

Nancy made a hum, stepped back, and hooked a finger beneath his collar, dragging him toward the leather chair. It loomed like a dark portal beneath him.

“Nancy!”

“Don’t make me strip you, bitch.”

Zach emerged from the storage closet, now wearing blue latex gloves. He held a special looking needle, one he apparently had to search for. It was long and thick and sharp.

“Take off your pants,” Nancy said.

“Jesus Christ,” Red said, feeling like the already tiny store had shrunk in around him. “Can I—like—think about it?”

“No,” Nancy replied. “Why would you have to think about it?”

“Because it’s my dick!”

“No, it’s my dick!”

Red stared. “Fuck you, it is my dick!”

“No, bitch,” Nancy replied. “It’s my dick. I own it, and you’re doing it for me.”

Zach sat in a stool by the chair, setting the needle into a bubbler. He watched the argument with a bleary, stoned silence.

“Nancy—” Red began.

“Shut up,” Nancy said, pulling on his collar. “Look, you wanna talk about our relationship, but you know what? I don’t. Talking means nothing. Words are easy to say. Promises are just things to be broken. Actions are what really matter. And whatever you want to say is stuff we could figure out by just doing together, by trusting each other.”

Red stared, choking from her grip.

“I trust you,” Nancy said. “Do you trust me?”

“I. . . .”

She tilted her head, tail swishing.

“Yes,” Red said, blurting it out. He swallowed around the collar. “God, Nancy, I trust you. I wouldn’t fucking be here if I didn’t.”

“Good.” Nancy gestured toward the chair. “Then do what I say.”

Red hesitated.

“Show me you care,” Nancy said. “Show me you care the same way I show you I care, by going to work, by taking you out, by being ready to dedicate my life for you, day in and day out.”

Red sucked down air. He was sweating, swaying. He glanced at Zach—the tall sphynx said nothing, but there was a look in his eyes that said if Red were to back out now, and refuse to follow along, the stoner would take his side.

The look said that this was Red’s body, and that made it Red’s decision.

But was it, really?

Had he been in the wrong this entire time? Had he been trying to force Nancy to tune into his wavelength, demanding that she follow his way of doing things? Had he been blundering down his own path instead of trying to understand how she felt, how she was really communicating her love? Had he been the one not treating their relationship like a team?

Was it him who needed to commit?

Was he the one in doubt?

He breathed again.

“Okay,” he said.

Nancy just stared. Zach raised a brow.

“Okay,” Red said again, struggling for his belt. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

His pants came off with a clatter, falling around his ankles. He worked off his shoes, his boxers. By the end, he stood half-naked before the two anthros, his dick half-shrived, his face blushing as red as his hair.

“You two are crazy,” Zach said, grinning like the skull on his chest.

Nancy broke into a giggle.

Red sat in the chair. Nancy eased his knees apart. Zach took the needle from the bubbler. Outside, a dark shadow passed across the store window.

“Gonna disinfect,” the cat said.

He reached over and swabbed the underside of Red’s dick with an alcohol patch. The liquid was cold, the movement clinical.

“Gonna have you sign this, real quick.”

Zach handed over some paper on a clipboard. A liability waver. Red signed without reading. The pen shook in his hand.

“Alright, dude.”

The cat leaned in, the long thin needle perched in his paw, taking the tip of Red’s dick in a gloved hand. Red nearly squirmed. “Gonna go in here,” Zach said, gently squeezing a spot just below the right tip of Red’s glans. “Through the urethra and out the top, right here.” He patted the top of the glans. “The Apadravya. It’s Hindu or somethin’.”

“For the woman’s pleasure,” Nancy said, winking. “Karma Sutra.”

“Girl, what a tease.”

Red tried to make a joke about pleasuring Nancy, but it didn’t come. He saw Zach bringing the needle around. His mouth went dry.

Things were lifted. Metal pressed.

“Gonna go halfway,” Zach said. “Stop at the urethra, let you adjust. Once you’re good, we’ll go the rest. Alright?”

“Alright,” Red said, his voice weak.

Zach took a moment to check the angle, adjusting his grip. The anticipation ate Red alive. Just when he was struggling to breathe, Nancy reached over and grabbed his hand, giving him a firm squeeze. Her expression was excited and eager, but not unkind.

Red managed to smile back.

“Countdown,” Zach said. “Three. . . .”

Red lost the smile.

“Two. . . .”

He squeezed Nancy’s hand.

“One.”

The pain was sharp and deep and sudden, and, despite getting the countdown, Red felt immediately unprepared, letting out a moan, the feeling of something going inside his dick so alien and uncomfortable it made him squirm and writhe and lose composure. Nancy had to lean on his knees to stop him from bucking out.

“Shhhhh,” the ferret said. “It’s okay.”

“You good?” Zach asked.

Red caught himself. Once the panic was over, the rational part of his brain told him the pain hadn’t actually been that bad—it was just unexpected, and in a very sensitive area. Of course, knowing that the needle was still physically inside his urethra didn’t help. He had to stop himself from trying to pee on reflex.

Zach had said there would be another push.

One more.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Gimme a minute.”

Time passed. It wasn’t really enough. Red noticed the shadow passing across the store window again, but he was so overwhelmed it almost didn’t register. All he could focus on was the blood leaking from the head of his dick, as well as the feeling of Nancy peppering his naked thighs with kisses, leaving blue lipstick stains. When he took a breath, she ducked in and planted a sucking kiss on his balls.

“Okay,” he said.

Zach made a tch. “Countdown. Three—”

Suddenly, Nancy was in his face, kissing his lips. Red lost his bracing.

“Nance—”

Her breath was hot, her lipstick flavored like berries.

“Two,” Zach said.

He tried to pull away, to prepare, but she grabbed his head and forced him back, mauling him with affection.

“Nance!”

“One.”

The pain came again, same as before, and Red moaned right into Nancy’s mouth, jerking in her embrace, bucking against her weight, the pleasure of her kiss blunting the sharp agony in his dick, as if she were drinking away the pain. She breathed as he hissed, tasting the air, feeling his sensation, sharing his struggle as best she could. Somewhere below, Zach pulled the needle all the way through his glans.

“Whew,” the cat said. “Damn, girl.”

“Good boy,” Nancy whispered.

Red melted into the chair.

“Good boy, good boy, good boy.” She patted his cheek, trying to grab his attention. “Hey, just look at me. Almost there.”

When he barely responded, Nancy kissed him again. Zach had to push her to the side so he could lean in and deploy the forceps, widening the wound for the actual stud. Red hissed. The pain in his dick became a throbbing ache.

“Almost. . . .” Zach said.

He picked up the small barbell stud. Red looked at Nancy. This time, she didn’t kiss him—she only stared lovingly into his eyes, holding his hand, capturing his attention as easily as she had in the bar all those months ago, when they had first met. Somehow, in a way he couldn’t explain, Nancy just had a way of holding him in the palm of her hand.

Red barely even felt it as Zach slid in the stud.

“Good boy,” Nancy said, softly.

“Whew!” the sphynx said, rolling his neck. Tribal tattoos flexed along his wrinkly skin. “Alright. You’re a trooper, bro. Hard part’s over. From here, I’ll just get you cleaned and bandaged up, and then—”

There was movement. The front door of the Black Rose Parlor slammed open. At the front of the store, Red saw the same homeless man he had glimpsed on arrival, now marching wildly toward the back. He held a gun in his hand.

“Put your hands up, now!”

Chapter Three:

Fruitcake

“I said, put your hands up!”

Zach raised his hands. Nancy went still. Red was so caught off-guard that he tried to jerk up from his chair, only to fall back down when his freshly pierced dick slapped against his balls. Up front, the homeless man stumbled across the reception area, eyes wide.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”

“Easy, bro,” Zach said. “Just take it easy.”

“Shut up!”

For the first time, Red got a good look at the homeless man. He was human, his face overgrown with a greasy beard, his clothes so dark and unwashed they resembled a piece of gum on a busy sidewalk. His movements were twitchy—he swayed on his feet as he moved through the reception area, pointing his pistol with a shaky hand. Red wasn’t sure if he was drunk, tweaking on adrenaline, or just tweaking in general.

“Gimme the money!” the man yelled.

None of the three moved.

“Hey, don’t fuck with me!” The man moved through the jail cell bars, waving the gun. “I’m serious! This is a robbery!”

“Oh, what?” Nancy called back. “All outta crystal? Need to score some rock?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Awww, did someone not get paid to suck dicks?”

“Shut up!”

“Nance,” Red hissed, sitting back in the chair.

Nancy remained where she was, hands unraised. Red recognized her posture. She was weighing up the angles, judging the distance. He could tell his girlfriend was thinking about trying something. The homeless man seemed to notice it, too, because he levelled his pistol directly at Nancy’s chest.

“Try me, bitch,” he said.

Nancy didn’t respond. Her feet shifted below.

As the silence stretched, the homeless man licked his lips and glanced toward the reception desk. He briefly lost his balance. Red just decided to call him Tweaker, because that was definitely what he was. “The register full?”

Zach made a tch. “Barely, bro.”

“What about the safe?” Tweaker asked.

“Safe’s next to the register.”

“Good.” He flicked the pistol. “Open it.”

“Can’t do it, homie.”

The gun jerked to Zach. “The fuck you mean, can’t do it? I’m not asking!”

“He means,” Nancy said, “we can’t do it because we don’t have the code, dipshit.”

“Bullshit!”

“We don’t have the code,” Nancy continued, chancing a step forward, “because some other dipshit has been robbing people, and management got nervous. They changed the combo. We can’t touch the safe. So the best you’re gonna get is like three hundred bucks from the register, dude. Hope that was worth a hit of smack.”

“Shut up!” Tweaker roared. “God, shut up! You don’t talk anymore! You stand there and shut up! You got that?”

Once again, Nancy didn’t respond.

“Nancy!” Red hissed, trying to sit up.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, eyes fierce and glinting. Red recognized the look—he’d seen this same expression in the middle of mosh pits, in stare-offs at a bar, in their apartment bedroom moments before she pounced and fucked him into the floor. Nancy was definitely going to try something.

Red really wished this robbery hadn’t happened while his dick was impaled.

“Hey, man,” Zach said, sitting up from the stool. “Look, I’ll come over and open the register. I’ll give you the money, and you can go. Alright? There’s no need to freak. We’ll be cool.”

Tweaker shifted on his feet, the gun darting between bodies. Red recognized the weapon as a snub-nose .38 revolver. “Don’t move.”

Zach made a tch. “Alright, man.”

“None of you move unless I tell you.”

“Got it, bro.”

There was a silence. Outside, thunder rolled across the parking lot, the rain intensifying into a storm. Tweaker jerked to look, and Nancy took the chance to dart forward, clearing several steps before the human whirred back around.

“Hey, I saw that!” Tweaker shouted. “What are you, fucking crazy? Don’t move!”

Nancy said nothing.

“Fuck you. Gimme your wallet!”

Nancy didn’t move.

“Gimme your wallet! All of you!”

Zach blew out a breath and reached into his pocket. Nancy flicked her tail. Red looked over at his crumpled jeans, lying just out of reach.

“Hey, you!” Tweaker yelled. “Dickless!”

Red tensed.

“Those your pants?”

“Uh,” Red said, feeling very put on the spot. Being half-naked made all of this so much worse. “Yeah?”

“You got something in there?”

He tensed, fidgeting, caught between staying still and reaching for his wallet, so overwhelmed with fear that he accidentally lost control and pissed some blood into the drain pain at his feet. The noise was loud and smacking.

Tweaker made a face.

“Hey!” Nancy shouted. “Don’t point your gun at him!”

Tweaker pointed his gun back at Nancy. “Fuck you say?”

“Point it at me, bitch!”

“I am!”

“You point it at me, motherfucker! Not him!”

“I am, you stupid bitch!”

They glared at each other, the homeless man’s greasy beard and ragged clothes contrasting with Nancy’s leather jacket and bright blue hair. The revolver shook in Tweaker’s hands, circling her chest.

“Come on, Nance,” Zach said. “Be smart, girl.”

“You don’t point it at him,” the ferret said, as if she hadn’t heard. “You point it at me. Okay? You don’t fucking touch him.”

“Look, lady,” Tweaker said, bewildered. “I really don’t give a shit.”

“He’s mine. You got that?”

“I don’t care! Just give me your wallet!”

“Come take it, bitch.”

Tweaker pointed the revolver at her head.

“Fuck’s sake, Nancy!” Red yelled.

The homeless man jerked the gun to Red. “Shut up! All of you, shut up! You’re fucking weird, and I don’t like it!”

“Hey!” Nancy shouted, furious. “What did I say?”

“Shut up!”

“Don’t point that fucking gun at my boyfriend!”

The homeless man trained the revolver on Red’s chest. “Listen, you blue-ass bitch, if you don’t back off right now, I swear to God, I’m gonna blow your boyfriend’s dick—”

It happened quickly. Tweaker lurched, tripping over a chair. His gun went off. The sound was explosive, the bullet screaming. As Red ducked into his chair, Nancy darted forward, racing like a streak of blue among the black-painted walls. Tweaker aimed and fired. A leather chair bucked, spraying insulation. By the time Tweaker aimed the third shot, Nancy bowled straight into him, grabbing at the gun. They struggled, wrestled, jerking, rolling, bouncing off the leather chairs as they tumbled across the corridor. Zach and Red remained frozen, watching the gun topple wildly between hands. When it finally shot again, a plume of white plaster rained down from the ceiling.

“Nancy!”

There was a kick, a punch. Nancy tried to rake his eyes with her claws. Screaming in pain, Tweaker aimed and fired at point-blank range. The ferret jerked back, body twisting, before falling to the floor.

“Nancy!”

Suddenly, Red was on his feet, barreling down the corridor. His feet barely touched the floor. He almost didn’t hear Zach yelling behind him. His entire awareness was focused on Tweaker, who was staring down in horror at Nancy’s unmoving body, his revolver still smoking.

He didn’t even resist when Red punched him in the face.

Tweaker went sprawling into the reception area, falling flat on his back, barely able to recover before Red fell on him again. They wrestled for the gun. Red was so snarling mad that he headbutted Tweaker in the face. Something cracked. Tweaker went dizzy. Over and over, Red slammed the revolver into the edge of a coffee table, bashing the man’s wrist until it snapped, and Tweaker cried, and the revolver went off for a fifth time as it went skittering out of hand, far back toward the entrance.

Red kept punching. He had a grip on the man’s filthy jacket, and he hit him again, and again, and again, and again. The sound was like meat slapping on a counter.

Blood sprayed.

His knuckles cracked.

At some point, after Tweaker had gone limp, the fire alarm began to chime. Gunsmoke curled the air. Red didn’t stop to look.

“Red!”

thwack

thwack

thwack

“Red!”

Red stopped. Wincing, he turned on top of the homeless man’s chest, looking through the jail cell bars into the back of the Black Rose Parlor. Zach was helping Nancy to her feet. The ferret was clutching her shoulder, hissing in pain, somewhat in shock but very much alive. Her blue eyes were focused directly on him.

“Nancy,” Red said, relieved.

“Red!” Nancy yelled back, furious.

He flinched. He realized that his right hand was wet with blood. When he looked down, Tweaker was lying semi-conscious on the floor, his nose broken, his face a ruin of bruises and swelling.

“Hardcore, man,” Zach said.

“Shit,” Red said, horrified. “I didn’t—”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Nancy roared.

“I—” He stood up, backing away from Tweaker. “I don’t know! Sorry, I just—”

“You fucker!” The ferret tried to jerk out of Zach’s grip. “You just had to do, huh?”

Red grew even more startled. “What?”

“You just had to keep doing it!”

“Do—what?”

“You couldn’t let me do it!” Nancy screamed at him. “You couldn’t just give me control! Why can’t you just trust me!”

Red stared at her. Zach reared back, his feline eyes wide.

“Nancy—” Red began.

“That’s what you’re doing! You’re trying to rebel! You think you don’t need my help! Well, fuck you! You’re my bitch! I take care of you!”

Red was almost speechless. “Is . . . that what this was about? This whole time?”

“You’re not breaking up with me!”

“I—no! No, I’m not! I never said I was!”

“Yes, you did!”

“No! Never!”

“Fuck you!”

Once again, Nancy tried to break free of Zach, who was now actively restraining her instead of giving help. Zach looked just as bewildered as Red.

“Look,” Red began, wincing at the pain in his dick. “I’m sorry if I made you think—”

He stopped. In the back of the store, one of the leather chairs was steadily catching fire, a burst of orange flame licking up the back and dripping down to the carpet. The fire alarm seemed to grow louder. Zach felt the heat, turned, and gave a loud Māori curse.

“Are you serious?” the sphynx yelled. “How the fuck?”

“Uh,” Red said. “The gun?”

“The fucking gun?”

“Muzzle flash?”

“Really?”

“I don’t know!”

Zach looked between Nancy and the now rapidly burning furniture at the back of the store, which was already blanketing the air with smoke. He made a decision. “Fuck!”

He let Nancy go, raced toward the flame, realized it was already too big, and went sprinting for some water. The flames grew bright and hungry. Before Red could rush in to help, Nancy stepped into his path, standing tall in the doorway of the fake jail cell bars.

“Uh,” Red said. “Nance?”

Nancy stepped forward, eyes glinting with flame.

“Are you—okay?”

Her hand fell from her shoulder, revealing a bullet hole about the width of a finger, a few inches below her clavicle. The fur beneath was sodden with blood.

“Holy shit,” Red said, backing up. He almost tripped over Tweaker’s body. “God, Nancy. You should—I mean, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“Fuck you,” Nancy said, taking another step.

“What?”

“What did I just say?”

“Nancy, you got shot! With a gun!”

“Come here, bitch.”

“Oh my fucking God.”

She darted forward. Red was terrified, bleeding, pantless, and already choking from the smoke, so he was barely able to run for the door before Nancy caught him from the back, sinking her teeth into his neck. Red buckled. They hit the floor. Nancy pinned him by the shoulders, her teeth retracting, her long ferret tongue coming in to lick the wound clean. Red scratched desperately at the floor.

“Nancy!”

He tried to buck her off, but she used the momentum against him, flipping him onto his back and sitting heavily on his groin. He pushed at her. She snarled, growling in his face. They got into a war of slapping limbs. Behind them, there was the sound of Zach throwing a bucket of water, followed by a drenching hiss.

“Let me do this!” Nancy yelled.

She grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. Red looked up at her, utterly baffled.

“Why?” he asked.

Her only answer was a kiss, the contact deep and hungry. While their faces were occupied, Red felt her other hand shift below, working at angrily at her clothes. A moment later, she shifted her weight onto his groin, the bottom of her jeans brushing the head of his dick. The contact sent a throbbing ache up his spine.

He felt a moment of dawning horror.

“Wait,” he said.

Nancy finally got her belt unbuckled, the metal clattering free. She yanked her jeans to her knees. All of a sudden, Red could see the milky white fur of her thighs.

“Wait, wait, I can’t—”

She yanked him by the legs, dragging his back across the carpet. As he winced at the rug burn, Nancy lifted his lower half into the air, manipulating his legs like a pair of levers, his entire body bending into a backward C. She was getting ready for an Amazon press. As she worked, Nancy rubbed a hand between her thighs.

He was getting hard. He could see himself starting to lengthen, to twitch, the stud in his dick wobbling as his flesh grew turgid and engorged.

The fire alarm blared in his ear.

“Wait!” he cried.

For the first time, Nancy actually stopped. She remained perched above him, one hand on his ankle, the other hand tilting his dick until it pointed straight up, the studded head aimed right between her legs.

“You don’t have to prove anything.”

She blinked.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Red said.

Her first reaction was anger. “I’m not fucking—”

“You are.”

She growled.

“Come on,” Red said.

It all made sense. She was already scared that he would break up with her. She thought things between them could end at anytime, like the moment she slipped up and looked weak he would scurry like a fish between her fingers. Because of this, her first response to anything involving him was to double down.

To prove control.

All day, he thought she had wanted him to prove himself to her, with the collar and dick piercing and general domination. But had it really been the other way around?

Was she proving herself to him?

“Nancy,” Red said. “Don’t be scared.”

She breathed, whiskers twitching at the heat and smoke. He saw a flicker of terror in her eyes, the same one he had seen in bed this morning, and he knew he had guessed right. She looked very grateful that he had seen her.

A moment later, the relief was gone.

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t.”

Nancy thrusted down, taking all of his dick in a single, violent plunge. Red gave a wordless moan as his spine bent, and his thighs crashed against hers, and the feeling of her pussy gobbling his dick left him squirming on the floor, hyperaware of the barbell stud dragging against the flesh of his dick, the meat of her inner walls. The result was both a singing pleasure and a throbbing, toe-curling pain.

“God,” he said.

“I’m your god, bitch.”

“Are you guys gonna fucking help?” Zach screamed.

She rose up and fell back down, already falling into a heavy rhythm. Red was given no time to adapt. He gritted through the pain, trying to focus on the slick heat of her passage, the velvety texture of her loins, even the soft fur of her thighs pressing against the bottom of his ass. He tried not to imagine the stud in his dick ripping through the tip of his urethra, pulled out like the cord of a lawnmower. He tried not to think about words like infection and permanent tissue damage.

“Slow down,” he hissed.

In response, Nancy bucked herself up and went crashing down, taking him from his tip to his base, slamming her hips like a piston. Lightning flashed through the window.

Red nearly screamed.

Nancy grinned down at him, her eyes bright and wild, like she was genuinely having fun. Outside, the rain sloshed in applause.

“Girl!” Zach yelled, audibly running through the store.

“One minute!” Nancy replied.

“Girl, I swear!”

“One minute! Busy! Sorry!”

“The fuck you are! Bitch, you’re nuttier than a fruitcake!”

Nancy barked out a laugh. As if in response, she leaned forward, pushing down on Red’s legs, bending him toward the shape of a V, now actively thrusting herself against him instead of bouncing up and down. The angle of penetration got deeper. Things curved. Nancy began to really pound, forcing Red’s stud to scour and rake across her walls. She seemed to really enjoy the new stimulation.

For his part, Red felt his legs begin to cramp.

“Don’t pussy out,” Nancy said.

Red groaned.

“Hey, I got shot.”

“Yeah! Holy shit! You got shot!”

She giggled. All at once, Red found himself laughing with her. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or the shock, or the fire, or the actual bullet hole in her shoulder, but he suddenly found the entire situation to be ridiculously funny, just in how over the top it was, how quickly it had escalated into insanity. And maybe it was actually fun. Who knew? Red did genuinely enjoy all the chaos and drama that Nancy created around her. Maybe that was why he stayed, despite everything. Maybe, in the end, he had just gotten too in his head about the future, and forgotten to enjoy what he currently had.

He looked over at Tweaker, who was still lying semi-conscious on the floor, barely a few feet away. Red flipped him off. Nancy noticed what he was doing and stuck her own tongue at the homeless man, flicking it lewdly between fingers.

Red laughed even harder.

“Oh, don’t help me!” Zach yelled, racing through the smoke. “Just do the nasty on the floor! We all got priorities!”

“Is it bad?” Nancy asked, not slowing down.

“It’s not fucking good!”

“Yeah, but is it bad?”

Zach made a loud tch. Red could only vaguely see the fire from where he was on the floor, mostly in the flickering of light and the drifting plumes of smoke. From what he could tell, the fire was definitely receding. “No, I got it! Just—shit, man!”

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Mondays, am I right?”

“Girl, you shut up!”

As if in response, Nancy thrusted down hard, making a smack so loud it was audible beneath the blaring alarm. Red couldn’t help but moan.

“I heard that!” Zach yelled, running to the back. “You’re mopping up!”

They kept going. By this point, Nancy had folded Red’s body so far into the floor that he was basically shaped like a U, his ankles growing parallel with his ears. As the angle of penetration kept shifting, Nancy kept scooting her boots forward, widening the bowl of her squat, twisting her ferret body as far as she could flexibly go. By the end, they were staring right at each other, their chests together, faces close.

It was now a real Amazon press. An expression of total domination.

Red just looked up at her, waiting and receiving.

Nancy growled. All at once, she began to pound him even harder than she had before, as if she had still been holding something back, and now that she had folded him like a pretzel, she could really fuck him where it hurt. The thrusts got harder, faster. Rhythm vanished. Pressure grew. Fluid sopped into fur and skin. Red felt the stud in his dick dragging on her walls, elongating every thrust, making him feel every inch of her clenching muscle. It hurt, and it ached, and it felt amazing, and he didn’t want it to stop. At the same time, he absolutely could not bear it much longer.

His hand gripped at the carpet. The fire alarm swirled into a siren. Headlights shined against the wet storefront glass. His balls ached with every slap of ass.

Nancy grabbed his hand.

“Hey.”

He looked at her. Her gaze was growing lidded. Her movements were frantic, shaking. He got the feeling the bullet was finally catching up to her.

“Cum in me,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Cum in me.” Her breath grew soft, whining. “I need you.”

Red stared. “Nance?”

“Please.”

He blinked. An instant later, he felt a moment of dawning thought, a realization of something that should’ve been obvious, if all of this wasn’t crazy and insane.

He wasn’t wearing a condom.

This was raw.

Pure.

Natural.

Dangerous.

“Wait,” he said.

Nancy was looking down at him, her blue hair falling like a curtain around his head, sealing the rest of the shop from view. All he could see was her face, and she began to close her eyes, squeezing his hand, mashing their groins into a wet and lurid union. From the shaking in her breath, she was either close to collapse, or just about to cum.

For Red, it was both.

Panic rose.

“Wait. Hold on.”

Nancy didn’t seem to hear him. She just kept grinding their anatomies together, giving shallow but rapid thrusts, sprinting faster and faster across the point of no return, her breath rising with a crescendo of gasps. Red was so folded beneath her, so helplessly twisted into a submissive posture, that he couldn’t even begin to resist.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m not ready.”

Nancy opened her eyes.

“Nancy! You’re gonna get—”

She looked at him, silent. He winced. He breathed. The pleasure was mounting, the pressure growing. All he could see was her.

“Hey,” she said. “Trust me.”

Red’s face was a rictus of pain, fear, and rapture.

“Trust me.”

“I—”

Before he could finish, Nancy rose up and fell one last time, smacking herself all the way to the hilt. An instant later, she began to climax, her walls clenching, her muscles undulating, the overwhelming wave of her pleasure dragging Red into orgasm right beside her, milked out of him like a pair of merciless hands. He exploded inside her, spraying rope after rope, cumming without limit or restraint. He filled her up. He painted her walls. He did not stop until his body was spent and his flesh was sore and the large barbell stud in his dick was screaming at him to stop.

When it was over, Red laid where he was, feeling dizzy. His legs were cramped, his spine aching. A swamp of fluids poured out from Nancy’s entrance, leaking down his shaft, drooling onto his thighs and balls. He didn’t need to look to know that some of it was blood.

“I love you,” Nancy said.

Red froze. He looked up at Nancy, seeing the dreamlike expression on her face. He fumbled desperately for an answer. Before he could find it, Nancy collapsed against him, finally passing out. He stared at her in utter surprise.

Next to him, the front door of Black Rose Parlor came bashing open.

“Police! Nobody move!”

A swarm of cops came pouring into the room, guns drawn, their uniforms wet with rain. Red and blue lights swarmed the window, the cherries and berries of a police department on emergency action. Voices shouted. Tires squealed.

“Freeze!”

“Get down!”

“Hands in the air!”

Weakly, Red put his hands in the air, barely managing to reach around Nancy’s shoulders. Around him, the tattoo shop was filled with a beaten homeless man, a half-drenched fire, a tattooed sphynx cat yelling desperately for help, and a slick pop! as Red’s dick came sliding out of Nancy’s crotch. He looked down and saw that he had, in fact, cummed blood inside her.

There was a moment of silence.

“What the fuck?” a cop managed to ask.

Epilogue:

Fruit of the Tree

Red paced in front of the bathroom door, feeling nervous.

A few weeks had passed. After some emergency surgery, Nancy had been discharged from the hospital, though she had been given specific instructions not to do any heavy lifting or strenuous activity for at least three months, and to follow through on her appointments for physical therapy. The ferret had taken one look at Red, snorted, and climbed out of bed without signing the release.

And now they were back in their apartment. And time had passed. And things were mostly normal.

And. . . .

Red sighed, glancing at the closed bathroom door.

“That won’t help,” Beth said, hanging upside down above the couch. The bat blew her rope of purple hair. “You should sit.”

Red shook his head, continuing to pace.

“Sit.”

The Black Rose Parlor had reopened only two days after the fire. All three of them had given statements to the police. Nancy and Red had both been scolded for confronting Tweaker. Zach, meanwhile, had been awarded a civilian medal by the firefighters for his help in saving the store. When the owners had come down to ask what happened, he said Nancy and Red had helped him out. All of them were grateful the store did not have cameras.

“Sit,” Beth said, glowering.

Red glanced at the bathroom, ran a hand through his hair, and went over and sat on the couch. He managed to sit still for a few moments. He felt Beth staring at him. Eventually, he started tapping his foot, looking at the light beneath the bathroom door.

“You should breathe,” the bat said.

“Not that easy,” he replied.

“I thought you two solved this. You know, made up.”

“I mean, even still. . . .”

The bat nodded, which made her rock on her perch. There was a clattering in the bathroom. It sounded like plastic bouncing off porcelain. Red nearly launched from his seat, ready to bust through the door.

“Hey,” Beth said, putting a winged hand on his shoulder. “It’s just the language.”

“What?” Red asked.

“You two are just speaking different languages. You know?” The bat gestured a wing toward the door. “She wants big gestures. You want communication. You both want the same thing. You’re just seeing it differently.”

There was another clattering. A shadow passed beneath the bathroom door.

“I guess,” Red said, stiff with worry.

“Do you trust her?” Beth asked.

“What?”

“Do you trust her?”

“I—” He swallowed. “Yeah, I do.”

Beth made a grunt. It was her version of a laugh. “Braver than me.”

“I guess,” Red said. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Real bravery never does.”

The shadow lingered at the door.

“Just breathe,” Beth said. “You’ll be fine.”

The door opened. Nancy stepped out of the bathroom, her brown fur messy, her pajama shirt hanging loose over bare legs. Red stood up, shrugging off Beth’s hand. He stared at his girlfriend, the silence pounding around him. He saw the plastic, finger-length test in her hand. Red took one look at her smile and instantly knew what it said.

“I’m pregnant,” Nancy said, overjoyed.