FSE

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There was an unspoken truth about being a spotted hyena that weighed Maxine down wherever she went; Females always top.

It was subtle in as many ways as it wasn’t. Like the standard patriarchy. Most people accepted it as a way of life and not following the norms was seen as subversive even when intending not to be. It didn’t help that, in a world that struggled with patriarchal norms, many saw the hyena subculture as a strong rebellion against the status quo and not its own bag of issues.

So she left. She had aspirations of leaving long before she hit eighteen, back when she bought a second-hand leather jacket and made it her entire identity. She couldn’t afford a motorcycle growing up, but she had procured a van she could reasonably live in via family connections and a small inheritance. With it she left her hometown, leaving behind the toxic misandry of her culture to find something new. But everyone she met assumed she was no different. Worse, some saw that as a benefit, treating her like a living kink. The amount of people who had fantasies of the big bad hyena lady burying her pseudocock down their holes was far beyond what she’d expected. Maxine inevitably played the part if only because some nights she just needed to get laid. She tried being honest with people, even developing a few partners in her pilgrimage without a destination, but at best they treated her like a service top.

For years she traveled the states. She’d find a town, find a lot she could sleep in, do odd jobs to help make ends meet. She launched an OnlyFurs to supplement her income and found that being a domme hyena who occasionally ‘lost’ her dominance helped pull in the big bucks. Apparently, there were people who got off on making a domme into a sub, they just never frequented the bars she picked up partners in. Go figure.

It helped that she was what many would claim to be a stereotypical female yeen. Tall enough to rival male lions, muscular enough to both look good and work hard, her short mohawk said she was ready to rumble whenever. Her pseudocock, when extended, overshadowed most guys she came across. She figured having a big pussy might be a plus for some guys. More to hold when they fucked her. But no, people saw it only as a pitcher, not a catcher.

She figured it’d be the same in the new town as she saw it over the horizon. A small community wedged deep between two mountain passes and a forest, hidden from the outside world. There was a sign with the town name but Maxine didn’t bother looking it over, figuring it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

Since it was the morning she went about looking for work almost immediately. First days never panned out, as it was mostly for mingling and getting to know people in the town. Learn who needed some quick work done, usually handyman stuff which she was capable of, and pass around a few business cards to offer it. Sometimes she’d go to a print shop just to make new ones. When she didn’t hunt for work Maxine looked for places she could hunker her van by. To her surprise, the lots were free.

“As in, free free?” she asked the attendant.

The attendant, a raccoon who seemed confused by her question, nodded. “Not sure what else free means, miss,” he said.

“Well, like, is it free after eight? Or do I gotta pay for overnight?”

“No, ma’am. The lot is free.” He waved over the barren lot in question. It was barren of cars, which had Maxine suspicious of the price. “Folks tend to just pass through so we let them use what they can, so long as they don’t overstay their welcome.”

“And if they do?” Maxine asked.

He smiled innocently, “Oh, they don’t. Trust me on this, ma’am, we don’t have any trouble in this town. Now, I get that you’re hesitant, but I warn you that if you street park you’re more likely to get towed by Annie.”

“Who’s Annie? She the sheriff?”

He shook his head, “Town mechanic. We don’t got a sheriff.”

Maxine blinked. “You don’t have a sheriff?” She asked, earning a nod from the racoon. “Then who upholds the laws?”

“Well, we try not to break any. If anyone does, stuff gets discussed.”

Maxine figured this was code for a hippie commune. It’d explain the free lot, though not the lack of tie dye or flowers in the rather plain pacific northwest decor. She brushed it off, deciding the town wasn’t worth staying in for more than a day, work or otherwise. Didn’t mean she couldn’t get herself a little tail at night, especially if hippies were all about that free-love shit they spouted. In her defense, her knowledge of hippies came from her hippie-hating mom who demanded they all just get jobs and be productive members of society.

She asked around for the best hook-up spots. Not so bluntly as to scare people off, she knew the lingo or at least how to read people. The latter skill gave her an off, yet intriguing, vibe about the town. The people seemed happy. Content. No stresses weighed them down. Real hippie shit.

A club called Aeaea came up often in conversation. Why a small town had what could only be described as a night club, didn’t make much sense to Maxine, but by the evening she decided to roll with the weirdness.

It was a squat building between a library and a coffee shop. Maxine wasn’t one for city planning but even she found it odd. Given the line out front she gathered it was the place, and shrugged. Perhaps it used to be something else, times change. After ten minutes of a line the bouncer let her inside one of two doors. When asked about the second door, he simply told her, “You need to be invited for that one.”

That only invited more questions. Questions Maxine didn’t feel like holding up the line for. The section of the nightclub she entered seemed no different from a bar with neon lights and muffled club music grinding away from parts unknown.

At least the bartender was cute. A thick badger woman with fat tits even Maxine wanted to squeeze. She made an effort not to look at them, focusing instead on the name tag. “Hi, Fran. What do you got on tap?”

Fran smiled, “Mostly locals, stranger.”

“Maxine.” The hyena sat down, “Be honest, anything good or is it more local loyalty?”

The badger laughed. “Little of A, little of B. I could give you one on the house if you’d like.”

“That’d be mighty kind of ya,” Maxine said, pulling out her wallet, “I’ll pay all the same. Dealer’s choice.”

“Be careful, I might just throw something expensive your way.”

She grinned. “I trust you, Fran.” Normally staff weren’t off-limits to Maxine’s flirting, and she had considered going harder with the badger, but something about the way Fran spoke stopped her. There was nothing wrong with her per se, Maxine just had a feeling that if she pushed in Fran’s direction she’d end up being the dominant in bed. Maybe if all other options were poor she’d shoot her shot, or maybe she’d just enjoy some private time with her hands. She brushed the thought aside as another voice entered the fray.

“Is this seat taken?”

Maxine offered it, catching a glimpse of a strangely familiar hyena. He was shorter than her by a foot and clad in a thick teal turtleneck sweater. His light brown hair covered a single eye, with the other staring at Maxine with a sense of something. A subtle smugness that made her want to reprimand him.

“New to town?” he asked.

“Passing through,” Maxine said, taking her drink from Fran. She’d seen the hyena’s face before. Where though? She scoured through her memories to try and find it, catching it on the tip of her tongue.

“A shame,” he said, “You’ll be missing out.”

“Missing out? On what?”

“A proper dom, Maxine.”

She’d just swallowed her drink, unable to spit it out when he said her name. “Excuse me?” He smiled. That fucking smile. She knew instantly who he was. “You’re Rocky Rhodes…the missing porn star.”

“Missing?” Rocky scoffed, “Nah. More like, retired in privacy. You know how fans can be, or have you never run into anyone outside of your OnlyFurs?”

“No, can’t say I have. My content’s pretty niche.”

“And mine wasn’t?”

Maxine tilted her head. “What? You were like one of the biggest pornstars of your category.”

“Yeah, my category,” Rocky said, rolling his eyes as he took a drink he certainly did not pay for. “I know you’re more independent but when working in the studios you don’t really get much attention unless you’re doing straight porn. Niche markets have their thing but studios have been trying to go broader and it sucks. Not to mention all the AI Gooner crap you see nowadays. Probably best that I got out when I did.”

“And you settled down here?” It was no LA or NYC, which were too expensive she gathered, but the middle of nowhere seemed like a massive step down. There was nothing to do. Even this club felt dead.

The hyena grinned, “Well, I didn’t really settle. I was more…convinced. But enough about me, I’m here to talk with you.”

“Can’t be about a collab, though I wouldn’t say no to one.” She would rather not because any collaboration with Rocky required her to top. That’s what the audience would want, that’s what they’d expect. A big tough hyena bitch and her twinky partner going at it like rabbits. It’d do numbers which would work in her favor, so she’d put on her game face if needed.

Rocky smiled as if he knew her exact struggle. “No. It’s something more…personal. I know what it’s like, you know. The pressure of having to fall in line with expectations.”

Maxine sighed, “Oh, fuck off. You don’t. You’re practically a gold star for how hyena guys should be.”

“Except for the sex with dudes part.”

She nodded absently, having heard more than once that bisexual or gay hyena men should just think of pseudococks as real dicks and get over it. “You get what I mean. You didn’t have to struggle being, well, you don’t know me that well.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I know someone who has a real interest in you. Someone who can read anyone like a book. Someone who knows that you really, really, would rather be looking up than looking down.”

Normally this kind of reaction would get a harsh reaction, like a slap or a growl, out of Maxine. She’d dealt with enough pick up artists who think submission was the expectation, not the reward. But the way Rocky looked at her, the way he pulled open his turtleneck to reveal a solid gold collar clamped around his neck, made her reconsider exactly what he was saying.

Though he didn’t actually say much more. Not with his words at least. His eyes darted to the back door to the other side of the club, and his ass ushered her to follow. Feeling the pull of curiosity, Maxine guzzled her drink and went to pay her tab. The badger declined. “It’s on the house.”

She stepped into another world across the threshold of the back door. Blacklights illuminated a club of purple light and shadows, with neon lights sparsely layered paint a picture of hidden yet brazen debauchery dressed in leather and reeking of sweat.

The underbelly of the town revealed itself with hoods, whips, and chains. Ecstatic screams, the wet slap of penetration, and the smell of sex. God, the smell. Maxine had never been to an orgy so she wasn’t used to smelling everyone else. It took her a moment to adjust, where disgust became wanting as she followed Rocky deeper into the neon illuminated club.

They arrived at an alcove hidden just out of sight from anyone that didn’t go looking. There Rocky took to his knees, crawling on all fours to the lone occupant. Once kneeling by their side Rocky crooked his head, to which the person petted gently.

“You can sit, Maxine. Or would you prefer Max?” they said.

“Either is fine,” she sat opposite of them. Even from afar she towered over him. The sparse colors did little to hide his auburn hair or white fur. She blinked, realizing what he was. “You’re a mouse.”

His smile made her heart skip. “Observant aren’t you, Max?” The mouse held out his hand, “My name’s Renn. I run this town.”

She took it, “Didn’t expect to meet the mayor.”

“I’m not the mayor. I just run the town,” Renn said. His grip was soft but firm. She could crush it. Something in the back of her mind told her that’d be a bad idea. Not because she was dealing with a potential crime lord who would have her killed for daring to hurt him. No, her inner monologue screamed for her not to hurt him because it didn’t feel right. Just being in his presence felt like a weight on her shoulders. A heavy, but comfortable, pressure forcing her down. Maybe it had something to do with his gaze. His eyes looked at her like they already knew her, reading her as an open book and smiling with the contents.

“So, what do you think of my bitch?” he asked.

Max took a moment to realize he meant Rocky. “He seems…fine.”

“Just fine?” Renn tilted his head, “I was expecting something a little more…stereotypical, I’ll admit. Like he knows his place.”

“His place, by cultural standards, wouldn’t be at the foot of a mouse.”

He grinned, “Right. Right. And that’s what makes it so delightful, doesn’t it? To see a…not necessarily big or strong, but a hyena all the same, submit so eagerly to someone so much ‘weaker’ by societal standards. Well, if you ignore my wealth. It’s almost enviable, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” She gulped, feeling her throat itch whenever she saw Rocky’s golden collar underneath his turtleneck.

“Oh, I think you do. And I’m here to offer you an experience.” Renn leaned back, fingers tented like a business magnate. “See, I’ve been watching you for some time. A friend of mine was bored and happened upon you when looking for inspiration. She knew instantly that you were pretending to be as dominant as you are. It’s obvious when you know where to look. We had a laugh about it and moved on. But then I learned you came into town.”

“Only this morning.”

“News travels fast in my town. Especially when it's to me. Regardless, I see this as an opportunity. Call it fate if you want, call it luck if you can’t, but I’m willing to offer you a night where you can be yourself. An evening under my foot, with no strings attached.”

She scoffed. It was forced, with her fingers anxiously tapping the table. “W-Why would I accept that?” she asked, avoiding eye contact for fear of showing her blush.

Renn smiled. “Because, dear, you want it. You’ve had your head craned in reverence the entire time. Look,” the mouse leaned in, “I know you have a reputation, even if it’s in your own head, so I’m not going to out you. It’ll just be between us, and my bitch. No one in this town will spread what they’ve seen tonight. Not that we’d do it here. I prefer my more…private accommodations.”

“So I’m just supposed to accept the invitation of a stranger into his home to bend the knee?”

“That sums it up, yeah,” Renn said with a cheeky grin, “What say you?”

Maxine thought it over. “Fuck it. Sure.” If it turned out bad, she could forget about it the next day.

***

As the sun rose over the mountains, its rays illuminating the forests surrounding not just the town but Renn’s private estate, Maxine found herself staring out the window with a sense she’d never expected to have felt; Satisfaction.

That hunger she carried for so long, the desire that seemed so far out of reach, had become satiated in one night. From her chest, to her ass, her body ached from a pleasing pain. She wanted to embrace it, wear it with pride knowing that it finally happened, and fearful of how well she’d remember it once the dull aches faded.

Rocky knocked at the open archway of the door. He stood in the door frame, naked save for the golden collar, cuffs, and chastity cage. “Breakfast?” he asked, “Master is making pancakes.”

Maxine had woken up alone in the bedroom. She remembered sleeping with bindings, and reflexively rubbed her now bare wrists at the sight of Rocky’s. “Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

“You’re not going crazy.”

She blinked. “What?”

“This feeling you have. You think you’re in a dream, right?” Rocky stepped forward, letting his energetic self slip through cracks of discipline, “That what happened couldn’t possibly have. Well, it did. I should know, I was there for some of it until he decided to give you more personal attention. Not that I mind, it’s nice to get a break once in a while.”

She nodded after a moment, “Something like that.” Maxine reached for her clothes, finding them missing. In the chaos of the night before she’d had them stripped away by Renn and Rocky, leaving her naked in a room with an unmade bed and plenty of well used toys and gear. Rocky explained that her clothes were in the wash, being filthy from days of not cleaning, and that he’d take care of the bedroom while she enjoyed breakfast. She gulped, realizing this left her alone with Renn again.

The mouse wore nothing beyond his apron. She stared at his lithe body, still struggling to accept that someone so much smaller and weaker than her did what he did last night. She wasn’t ashamed of it, more unable to imagine it and would demand another demonstration if allowed. She held her tongue on the subject as pancakes were offered.

“Do you cook for every one-night stand?” She asked, trying to ease her anxieties.

“Yes, and for more long-term prospects,” Renn explained, sitting down beside her. “Sometimes I have Rocky cook, but he’s not as good despite my training.”

“Training? So it’s not just a bed thing with you too?” Maxine drenched her golden-brown pancakes in maple syrup before having a bite. She didn’t need the syrup at all. Renn smiled and offered to trade, which she took with glee.

“No, it’s a lifestyle. One that my unique position allows us to explore beyond what most others could. See, I could walk through the streets with him on a leash and no one would bat an eye. Could do the same for you.”

Maxine nearly spit her orange juice at the thought. “I…wow,” she said, anxiously patting the table as the ideas formed in her head. What happened last night was one thing, that was in the privacy of someone else’s home. To go outside on someone else’s leash was…hotter than she had the words for.

“I don’t know,” she said, finally, “I have a bit of a reputation to uphold. What’s to stop someone from just taking a picture and uploading it. You’d ruin my income if you made me look too subby online.”

Renn smiled in a way that told her no one would dare do something so against his wishes. But rather than say that, rather than flaunt just how much power he had, he instead pulled out something from a drawer and laid it flat on the table. Maxine's eyes widened when she saw it. Hesitant hands reached for it, hovering over until her host nodded that she could touch it. The leather was soft yet firm, malleable to stretch over one's head as it robbed them of identity. Of name.

“No one will know you when you wear this,” Renn said, taking her now-empty plate. “Though they’ll probably focus more on what you aren’t wearing.”

“You’re…you’re serious,” She said, knowing it but needing to say it aloud to believe it.

He nodded. “If you’re interested in this little trail run, then I want you kneeling in the living room. Head down. Palms up and resting on your thighs.”

She left for the living room, trying to take the hood only to leave it upon the mouse’s command. Her inner voices screamed, half filled with confusion that she was doing this, the other with excitement that bordered on fear. Maxine kneeled in the warm rays of the morning sun. She took deep breaths to calm herself. Eyes closed, ears perked for the moment Renn’s washing was done and his footsteps approached. Her heart fluttered when he stepped onto the soft carpeting, nearly vanishing from her perception until his gentle fingers caressed her neck.

“You will address me as Sir during this trail run. Is that clear?” His voice was soft yet carried the weight of command. The tone of a man who had won but didn’t care to rub her nose in the victory.

“Yes, sir,” Maxine said with bated breath.

His palm patted her cheek softly. Almost like a playful slap. “Good girl,” he said, with a tone that felt like warm water running down her spine. With expert skill he slipped the hood over her head, tugging and pulling at different angles to ensure it felt as natural to her as her own fur, that nothing that wasn’t supposed to escape could. He covered the zipper at the base of her neck with a thick leather collar, then commanded her limbs, one at a time, to stretch out. Each was strapped with a match leather collar around the wrist or ankle. Before the wrists were latched he pulled thick leather mittens over her hands, robbing her of manual dexterity. Chains were latched to the cuffs, binding her arms to her front. When ordered to stand she did so at Renn’s assistance, learning the hobble chain had enough slack to let her walk and spread her legs without issue, but prevented her from running. Not that she needed to run.

Renn called for Rocky and told him to situate the gimp into the car while he got dressed. Maxine bit her lip at being called that. She wasn’t a person now, just an object. A thing. Her pseudocock twitched with desire as Rocky led her by chain to the garage. There he put her in the passenger seat of Renn’s red car, locking her in place with a seat belt and stuffing a thick ballgag into her mouth.

“You made the right choice,” Rocky said, taking one last check of all the restraints, “By the end, you’ll never want to take that off.”

It took ten minutes to arrive in town. Renn’s house had enough surrounding forest that he could take her for bound hikes and no one would notice. It gave her time to reconsider her decision, which forced her to double down as soon as she saw people on the sidewalks of the town. Renn, if he noticed any growing distress, ignored it as he parked on the street.

“Come on,” he said, leading her by a chain leash to step out of the car. She’d been given sandals for her feet to avoid the bare pavement, and felt a sudden urge to cover her chest when standing out in the open. The mouse used a cane to direct her not to do that, and when it wasn’t enough he locked her arms behind her head, leaving everything exposed. “I’ll forgive the early nerves, but remember your place,” he chided.

She followed him down the block with her chest out and back straight. Some passersby looked up from their phones to notice, none seemed particularly surprised. She expected shame, and felt relief that no one was bothered. Some looked envious, as if wishing they’d had her, or were her.

Not even the coffee shop Renn entered gave her much attention. Save for the familiar badger mining the counter, who saw Maxine and grinned upon Renn’s approach. “Didn’t think that one struck your fancy.”

“Did Annie not say so?” Renn asked, leaning at the counter.

Fran blew a raspberry, “You know Annie’s not one for gossip. I can’t even get her to give me pillow talk unless she brings me to tears. Anyways, you want your usual?”

He nodded, “And for you to call Annie over.”

Fran raised her brow, “You know she’s working, right?”

“I do. I pay her.”

“So why don’t you ask for her?”

Renn smiled softly, “Because I want you to. Let her know it’s urgent. Maybe she’ll make you cry tonight.”

With a face flushed red, the badger made the call and the coffee. Renn took a nearby seat. From there he directed Maxine to spread her legs and squat, leaving her chest out for everyone. Borrowing a pen and paper, the latter of which he folded into a neat triangle to prop up, Renn wrote a message that stated anyone was allowed to touch his gimp. The coffee shop customers took to it liberally. By the time Annie arrived, Maxine’s nipples were sore from twisting, tugging, and prodding, with her pseudocock being subject to enough pumps that it was sensitive to the air around her.

The lemur walked inside still dressed in her mechanics jumpsuit. Her headfur had been bundled into a short ponytail out of convenience rather than style, looking as though she’d forgotten to get it cut. An annoyed, if subtle, sneer crossed her face when she entered, and stayed there when she looked at Renn idly enjoying his coffee. It changed to cold interest at the sight of Maxine, who was struggling to keep standing after endless prodding from strangers.

“I was working,” Annie said.

“You’re always working,” Renn said, casually sipping his coffee, “That’s why you told Fran to get a second job, right? To keep her busy when you’re not able?”

“Fran’s mine to do with as I please, as we agreed upon.” Annie looked over Maxine, “New gimp? This the fake dom?”

He nodded. “Test run gimp actually, but I am thinking a full time gimp would be nice. Wanted your opinion on her.”

“My opinion?”

He nodded. “I value it. Especially if I’m lending her to you on occasion. I know you’ve been dying to have fun with someone a little more…muscular.”

Lending? Maxine fought the urge to look at Renn in case she misheard. He was going to lend her out like an object, and to this woman. A woman who, despite being a foot shorter than Maxine, seemed to tower over the hyena in presence by that glare alone. Annie leaned forward, stripping her gloves away to reveal the hard-callused fingertips of a working woman. Her digits trailed along Maxine’s abdomen, tracing her quivering muscles, before roughly clasping her tits as if inspecting the weight of the meat at the grocery store. Her lips cupped a tightened nipples, warm breath and wet tongue clashing with the pressure of her teeth imprinting into Maxine’s skin. Maxine didn’t even consider struggling. She wanted it.

“It’s a crazy one,” Annie said, not sounding particularly concerned.

Renn shrugged, “More that it’s been repressed for a long while. I figured that if anyone had an idea of how to really give it a taste, it’d be you.”

The lemur gave pause. Maxine followed Annie’s gaze out the window as far as her peripheral vision would allow, catching a glimpse of a pick-up truck parted out front. “Could bring it to the park.”

“Hmm…why not the cemetery?”

Annie nodded, “That could work,” she held out her hand for the leash, “Meet me there?”

Renn handed it over without delay, “I’ll be right behind you.”

Outside the coffeeshop Annie unlatched Maxine’s arms. She rebound them with such speed and surprising strength that the hyena doubted she could have fought back if she wanted to. Now with her arms and elbows locked behind her Maxine was hoisted onto the hanging hook of the lemur’s truck, left to dangle for everyone else to see as the lemur drove off with her in tow. To prevent her from panicking towards oncoming traffic, Annie wrapped a spare oil-stained rag over Maxine’s eyes. The last thing she saw was Renn getting into his car, then the engine roared and the weightless mercy of the hook was all she knew.

The town’s silence at her display vanished on the road. Jeers, whistles, catcalls, all fell upon her dangling form as the truck passed, like she was being paraded through the streets. Maxine supposed she was. That realization brought her pseudocock to erection, straining in the open air for all to see. Some semblance of shame she had left compelled her to cover it, but her bindings made it fruitless. Annie clearly knew how to tie someone down because not once did Maxine consider she might fall off onto the pavement in her struggles.

If she had to describe the way Renn and Annie’s dominance differed, it was that Renn’s was warm, capable of burning but more likely to warm one up, while Annie’s was cold and dismissive. Once she parked the lemur offered no sympathies getting Maxine down, nor bothered to address her beyond making sure she could walk and tugging the leash when she struggled. She was hard, merciless, and it made Maxine wonder how those boots would feel on her face.

The trio climbed up what must have been a hill from the marching. Renn pulled the blinding rag off after Annie redid the hyena’s bindings to make her hang by her arms along a thick tree branch, one high enough to keep Maxine on her toes. Surrounding them were gravestones of a small cemetery sat in the middle of the town, with people passing by on a sidewalk. She squinted to see camera phones raised, no doubt enhancing the image to get a clearer view.

Renn held her pseudocock in his hand. “Well, well, I knew you were excited from following but holding it like this…” the mouse whistled, slipping a thumb inside unbidden. Maxine’s jaw clenched around the gag with her moan. “I was right about you. It’s a real shame it took you this long to find what you needed.”

Annie stepped out from behind. She’d unzipped her jumpsuit, letting the top half hang off like some jacket she tied around her waist, revealing the muscles of a working woman. In her hands was a thin wooden rod. “I wanna start with the tits.”

“She’s got a type,” Renn said to Maxine, to his gimp. “I swear it’s some kind of complex. Like she’s gotta punish every woman with a chest bigger than her.”

“There isn’t anything about it, I just like hurting tits.”

“So she says,” Renn loudly whispered. “But before I let her have the first swing, I should explain our destination. After all, it’s not every day you get kinky in a graveyard. Unless your name is Mary Shelly. See, I already know you’re going to want to continue after this little trail is done. You’re easy to read, or I’m just that good, whatever the case you’ve accepted what you want. So next we need to bury that old you. Your dignity and your decency need to be killed and put six feet under.”

His fingers slipped inside her slitted pseudocock, prodding it like he was using a sounding rod. “Think of this as your funeral and your baptism.”

Renn gave her pseudocock a well-meaning pat before standing aside for Annie. The lemur tentatively brushed the wooden cane along the gimp’s fur, watching the hushed reactions of someone awaiting the first strike. It came swiftly, slicing through the air like a banshee screeching. The snap fell hard and quick upon the gimp’s chest. The sudden sting felt like a cut and ached like a burn. The pain made her twitch just as another strike came down, just about her groin. The third and fourth strikes hit higher, with the fifth being an upward slice to slap the underside of her breasts. The sixth came down atop her tits, leaving her aching on both sides.

Either Annie was satisfied when she stopped or annoyed with the gimp’s thrashing as she embraced her newfound victim from behind. Tough hands gripped the aching tits, squeezing and roughly manhandling them in a manner the hyena never knew she wanted. Like stress balls they were played with, slapped and squeezed, with her nipples pulled, twisted, and pinched to the point that the gimp almost begged for mercy.

That is when Renn returned with his cock out. The mouse’s cock, much like him, was nothing special at first glance. The gimp had seen smaller and bigger, but she had not seen anyone take her pseudocock with gusto and dock his cock into hers. Having been a pitcher for most of her life, the gimp shuddered involuntarily as the mouse’s cock slipped into her extended cunt. He slithered in with meager resistance, something helped by her arousal over inexperience.

Annie’s strikes returned when he was halfway down the gimp’s shaft. The lemur struck at the gimp’s backside, specifically caning her ass red with a relentless assault. By both sides the gimp was surrounded by those smaller than her. Those weaker than her. Yet Renn turned her pitching tool into a fleshlight, and Annie's bombardment of strikes showed no hesitation from fear of retaliation. These two small critters saw through the gimp’s tough facade and were determined to never let it foster again. The gimp welcomed it. Maxine was dead now, she just left her body alive.

Renn realized this once he finished inside her. That smug smile gave it away. He ushered for Annie to stop, which she did, then for the gimp to be brought down.

“I think we can safely say you’ve accepted your place,” Renn asked, removing the gag for the gimp to shower him with honorifics. “Annie, I want you to take the gimp to your place for a crash course and some piercings. I’ll expect it on my doorstep by next week.”

“I got other work,” Annie said, not that it stopped her from forcing the gimp to her feet. “Can’t you do it?”

“I’ll compensate you. Besides, I need a more…firm touch.”

Annie shrugged. “Fine.” The lemur directed the new gimp down the hill. She never knew its real name, and now, never will. The gimp didn’t care. It was happy.