FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Hold still another minute or two, we almost have the full scan."

Vanessa sighed and steadied herself. The tech weenies knew their stuff, and she had known the scans were going to be a long and boring production. They'd said as much when she asked about the project. Still, it was almost over, and she'd be able to enjoy the good parts in a few weeks.

"Got it. 100% mapped. Thanks for your patience, Ms. Banks. We'll start getting the model built and let you know when it's rendered enough to look at."

"Thank you, boys. I've got a client shortly, but I'll be sure to check back in soon. You said a week to finish?" They nodded. "Then I'll see you all next week."

The elevator hummed briefly, from the fourteenth to the eleventh floor, and she walked along the bland hallways until she reached the dressing room. She hadn't bothered with getting dressed after the body scans; no one in this company had hangups about nudity. It was one of the pass/fail criteria on hiring. But now she needed to get done up for a client, and that meant, among other things, clothing.

There weren't a lot of patterns that went well with black fur and snow white jaguar markings, so she typically kept her gear in solid colors. A corsetted teddy, left loose so she could get help with it in a minute. Thigh boots with short heels, opera gloves without fingers, and she extended her claws to check for snags or breaks. None, and the cabbit grinned. She expected to use those, shortly. Wouldn't do to break a nail.

Little bits of jewelry to match the white gear. All pale silver, from rings along the rim of low lop ears to the bridge piercing on her muzzle. And a few other bits that were currently out of sight, but might be relevant later. It wasn't on the request list, but she was a big fan of improvisation. And this client, while new, seemed like the sort who wasn't going to mind improv.

Vanessa took her slate with her as she strutted down the corridor to one of the common prep rooms, wading into the bustle of a dozen people all in various stages of getting ready. For what varied, but all of them were efficient, and she had no trouble finding someone with a spare moment to get her corset laced and tied just right. And while that happened, she studied her slate.

Isabelle Fairchild, a twenty-three year old, female jaguar. The attached photos showed a girl with a lot of meat on her bones. Not fat, but nicely padded and probably strong. Extensive and heavily annotated list of likes and dislikes, big yesses and hard nos. There were a lot of big yesses. It was easy to see why the system had selected her, given the number of those positives that lined right up with her own favorite activities. One last tug settled the bow on her back, and she thanked Gwen, kissed her cheek, and moved off to her assignment.

According to the schedule, and there were no updates or changes, Isabelle ought to be stripped, bound, and waiting in a very uncomfortable position right now. That part had been Vanessa's instruction. One of the twins would have greeted her, walked her through the consent and awareness forms, then prepared her in the appropriate room. Room seven, and she paused at the staff door for a moment.

A few taps paired her slate to the cameras hidden in the room, and she took a moment to get a feel for her client. She wasn't struggling, though the position must have been excruciating after only a few minutes. Her thighs and ankles had been tied together, and she was balanced on the balls of her feet, with her wrists tied behind her and linked by a long rope to a hook on the ceiling, and her nipple rings chained to a recessed ring in the floor. She couldn't bend in any direction, and maintaining her balance would take a lot of focus.

"Let's go disrupt that, then," Vanessa muttered to herself. The slate went into a holder by the door, and she took a second or two to settle her persona before sliding the door open.

The room was dim, and the door made only a whisper of sound when she stepped in, but she saw a rounded ear twitch. No sneaking up on that one. Still, there were required steps in this little dance, and she stalked her way across the hardwood floor, heels clicking steadily. The room wasn't very large, but efficient design left plenty of working space.

Vanessa took one slow walk around her victim, not touching, then a second circle, this time dragging claw tips lightly here and there. She finally stopped in front of the cat, and reached under her chin. The ball gag was a nice touch, she'd have to remember to thank whichever of the twins had processed this one.

Lifting the jaguar's chin so she could make eye contact before speaking, Vanessa steadied her expression down to something between disapproval and amusement. "Ah, yes, that must be terribly uncomfortable. But no one cares whether a bad girl is comfortable. We only care about contrition. So once you admit your misdeeds and apologize for them-- sincerely, I must add-- we'll see about getting you more comfortable. And possibly rewarded, if you confess prettily enough."

The role play wasn't complex. It didn't need to be, it just established roles, relationships, and laid the stage for the play about to take place. And like a lot of good play, it put the stop button firmly in the submissive's hand. Safer that way.

"So we'll start with the easy way. Are you going to confess?" Isabelle shook her head. "I didn't think so. I guess I'll just have to force you." She switched from holding her chin to a grip in that brick red hair. Beautiful contrast against the haze gray fur and darker rosettes, there. And matched the panties she was still wearing. A nice touch. She used that grip to pull and push, rocking the cat on the balls of her feet. Backward stretched the chain on her nipples, forward left her unhappily unbalanced, though she wasn't under nearly as much stress on her shoulders.

She held her like that for a moment, off balance but not stretched, contemplating how to do what she wanted to. Impact play was on the plan, but she wasn't firmly decided on how to execute that, yet. But it only took a moment for her to make that choice. A little bit of carrot and, well... several variations on the stick. She let the cat get her balance back, settling back into that tautly stretched, uncomfortable position for a moment while she fetched a few things from the storage tucked in against the walls.

Just a few things, really, the best tools were versatile, but sometimes you needed specialized things. Like the little power box that she clipped on to the front of Isabelle's panties, wired to the small but powerful vibrator that also clipped into place, a magnet on the outside of the cat's underwear holding the toy in place on the other side of the fabric. Vanessa adjusted it a little bit then slid the control from standby to about half power.

The instant little yelp of surprise and pleasure was just what she'd been hoping for. While it buzzed away, she undid the overhead rope from the cat's wrists, leaving those bound behind her, and helped her down into a much less strenuous kneel.

"Do you like that, bad girl? I'm being so nice to you, giving you pleasure. But you're not even thanking me, so I guess I'll have to be mean, too." She ignored the muffled attempt at a thank you, and took another grip on the girl's hair, using it to pull her forward and down. Balanced on her knees and shoulders, now, and she shifted from hair to holding the base of her tail. Wouldn't do to hit that instead of her intended target.

The flogger had broad, heavy tails, too wide to have much sting, especially through cloth and fur. It was going to thud, all impact and no sting unless she swung really hard. Which wasn't her plan, really. Vertical swings, from over her shoulder, letting the weight of the tails do most of the work, landing in patters of tiny thumps on the jaguar's backside. The first time she jumped, but the second time was only a moment of tension. And the fourth impact was followed by a shuddering little moan.

"Oh, you think I'm being nice, still. You're enjoying this." It wasn't a question, not that anyone could have argued that she wasn't. The moans and the smell of arousal were very clear. "I guess I'll have to try harder to be properly mean. Now let's see." She made a show of thinking aloud while she continued to rain thumps on the girl's ass. "I could pour wax on your most delicate places? No, then I have to clean it out of your fur, that's too much work. I could put on a strap on and make you choke and gag on it?" The wiggle of hips said yes please. "Clearly not mean enough. God, you're dirty. Well, I know how to get more yelp and less moan out of you."

The other tool was close at hand, and she tossed the flogger aside. One whack was all it took to add a squeal of hurt to the moans of pleasure, and to calibrate exactly how hard she could swing the crop. "Ooooh, that sounded like you meant it. But there's so many places I can hit you with this." She swung again, at the other cheek, and was rewarded with another yelp and some squirming. "So let's get you rearranged so I can do more of that."

She had to stop the vibration for a bit, and took a moment to rub fingers in the gathering dampness down there, then dabbed that across the other girl's nose, filling it with the scent of her own lust. Untied her legs, then secured her ankles to another pair of recessed rings, wide apart, and shortened the chain on her nipples so there was just no way she could get her torso more than parallel with the floor. Once all that was done, she finished by untying Isabelle's hands.

"You get to chose, bad girl. If you keep that chain tight enough to please me, I'll only take the crop to your backside. That means mostly ass and thighs. Maybe the soles of your feet if I don't think you're really feeling punished. But you let that chain get any slack and I'll switch around and you get to find out how bad I can hurt you on your front."

She waited for a moment, then grinned when the jaguar pushed herself up, pulling the little chain tight, and her nipples with it. "Good girl."

With the vibrator back on, intensity move up a little further, Vanessa started to lay stripes over spots, horizontal strokes across her ass, and all the way down her thighs. Some of them got grunts or moans, many of them got yelps and squeals and painful squirms. The spots that really seemed to hurt, Vanessa took a moment or two to rub with her palms, soothing the sting into heat. Then hit them again, because punishment, in her book, was not meant to be nice, nor endurable for long.

Left foot, and just enough whack to get a scream through the gag, a scream that wavered into a full body writhe, and that was overtaken by a powerful, shaking orgasm. Finally. Even a whack to the other foot didn't overpower the pleasure, but it didn't matter. The strain of that position, mixed with her orgasm, sent her down, flopped on the floor.

"Uh-oh," she sing-songed. "You didn't keep the chain tight. You know what that means." She had to turn off the buzzer for a moment. Whatever this was, it was still supposed to be fun in the end, and that meant letting her get her breath back before moving on. And it was much easier to rearrange someone who wasn't shuddering and writhing on the floor.

Midway through rearranging, Isabelle recovered enough to let out a whimper and mumble something into the gag. Then tried again, somewhat more forcefully, though it was too garbled to really make out clearly. Vanessa finished securing her again, wrists tied to ankles, knees spread and tied to recessed rings, and the chain on her nipples hanging free, for the moment, then undid the gag, finally.

"I'm sorry!" Immediate, the instant she could speak. Very unsteady voice, a little raw from all the squealing and moaning and sobbing.

"For?" Still part of the script. Well, the vague guidelines that constituted a script for something like this.

She paused, eyes wide as she struggled to think of something to apologize for. "For not stripping all the way when I came in," came out in a rush. It was an awfully flimsy apology, but the desperate sincerity was there, and Vanessa allowed herself a bit of a smile and nod.

"Good girl. Now that you've apologized, we can put a number and an end on your punishment. It's still not over, but we can see the end of the tunnel. But first let's correct your misdeeds." She stepped behind the cat, bent over her, and took a grip on the waistband of her panties, pulling up and up and up until the cat whined at the flimsy fabric bunched up and pulled tight between her lips. "Nope, can't get them off this way. And with your legs that wide, can't pull them off down. Do you want to keep them on and double your punishment? Or do you want me to tear them off of you?" Vanessa held up a hand, and extended her claws for a moment, to make clear what would be involved.

The jaguar gulped at the sight of those claws, and the awareness that Vanessa probably wouldn't be all that careful in using them. "What," she paused to swallow, "what is a double punishment?"

The cabbit grinned, and gestured with the crop. "One punishment is going to be ten strokes." She started tapping the tabbed end of the crop. Twice on the inside of each thigh. "Four here." Twice on each breast. "Four here. And the last two I'm not telling you, but you'll get to make a choice. And if you don't want me to tear those soaked, pretty panties off, We'll just do that whole thing a second time, but harder. Won't that be fun? I bet you'll scream so nice and loud for me." While she waited for an answer, she just tapped the tip of the crop back and forth between Isabelle's thighs. Light little taps, no sting at all, but a reminder that couldn't be ignored.

"Tear them off."

"What was that? I don't hear disrespect very clearly."

"Please tear them off?"

"Better, but you need to be more specific if you want me to do what you're asking."

"Please tear my panties off?"

"Oh good! I thought you' never ask." She touched the crop to the cat's nose. "Hold this, girl. In your teeth. Don't mark it up, or I'll triple the strokes." Hands free, she leaned back down to start dragging her claws over the wet, flimsy fabric. She wasn't being quick about it, or precise, and spent at least as much time dragging claws through the jaguar's fur as shredding her panties. Lots of hissing and whimpering from the cat, too, lines of sharp heat tracing under her fur in very delicate places. After a few minutes, the tatters finally came apart, dropping to the ground under Isabelle, and finally leaving her fully bare.

She shuddered when Vanessa took back the crop, and watched while she made a show of inspecting it for tooth marks. She wasn't going to find any, of course, the threat and inspection were for the sake of drama, to wind her up a little more. Satisfied, she stepped behind the cat once more, took her hair in hand, and pulled her back, resting the girl's head against her stomach.

And then she swung. The first sharp snap got a grunt, mark left high up on the inside of her right thigh. The second was a little lower, then another pair on her left. The fourth one got a yelp and a squirm that she knew wouldn't do anything to relieve the sting. She shifted a little bit to come around Isabelle's side, lining up the crop, and shifted her grip to the chain between her nipples. Up, pulled a little tight, and two sharp, quick strikes to the underside of her breasts, then two more on the upper curves. She sobbed out at the third and fourth. Vanessa switched back to holding the girls head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

"You need a break, good girl? Two left, but if you need a rest first, let me know." The sobs faded off after a minute or two, and the other woman nodded a little bit.

"I'm... I'm good, I'm good. You said I get to choose the last two?"

"Not exactly. I said I'd give you a choice. So you get one. You have two strokes to distribute. Your choices are how many on your pussy, and how many on your tongue?"

Neither option appealed, and the wide eyes and frantically whirling thoughts showed it. She didn't take too long to come out with an answer, and it was pretty much what Vanessa expected. "One each? That sounds like you want to hurt everywhere. That's fine, though. If you really want to hurt everywhere, we can talk about that after you're done paying penance for not stripping all the way."

Again, she settled behind the jaguar, and took her chin in hand, pulling up and back to lean her. The end of the crop just stroked back and forth against the girl's pussy. No impact, no sting, just brushing back and forth. She lifted the crop, and laughed when Isabelle instantly tensed up, anticipating the sting. But it didn't come, just back to the teasing strokes. It didn't come the second time she lifted, or the third. The fourth time, however, she lifted, paused, then slapped the tabbed tip right down against the girl's labia. The yelp and jump were real, but probably out of proportion. She hadn't hit with the shaft, so there was only some sharp surface sting, none of the deeper pain that was probably settling in on her thighs and tits.

"You're probably very, very glad you didn't choose double. You know there wasn't any good choice for these last two. One more and it's all over, though. So." Vanessa shifted again, standing beside the trembling jaguar, and took her hair in hand again, tilting her head back. "Stick out your tongue. You know it's going to hurt. You know it's going to hurt so much. But I know you can take it." She placed the tip of the crop on her tongue, and just left it there. "You tell me when to go. If you keep your tongue out, if you take it, then it's over and I can reward you for being good, for coming clean and accepting your punishment. But if you choose not to take it like a good girl, we'll have to start all over. You don't want that, do you?"

The girl shook her head. Tongue way out, she tried to steady herself, prepare herself. It was unlikely to do much good, but it showed a willingness to tough out this one last moment of excruciating punishment. Then she nodded.

The swing wasn't nearly as hard as the other nine, but it didn't need to be. The tab landed exactly where she wanted it to, broad on that outstretched tongue. And it hurt. Vanessa knew it hurt, she'd tested it herself. So she knew the tears were real, and knew exactly what to do next. Crop discarded, she got down on her knees and just hugged the other girl, holding her while she calmed down and recovered. She undid the rope on her legs, let her sit comfortably, and wrapped a fluffy towel around her. Still half bound, but more comfortable and with a feeling of protectiveness and care.

"You're gonna have some sting and ache for a while, maybe a couple of days. Tongue will fade fastest, if it hasn't already." Isabelle nodded. "Good. One of the twins ought to have your things in shortly. Stay as long as you like, now that the scene's over, I'm all yours for aftercare and comfort, yeah?" Another nod, and the smaller cat put her head on Vanessa's shoulder.

Pretty comfortable end to the morning, as far as she was concerned.