FSE

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J was never a morning person by choice. Their public persona had bright eyes and a bushy tail, as red pandas usually did, but they tried not to do any of that before noon as a matter of principle. They tended to stay up and/or out late, and sleeping until they woke themself up was, they thought, a suitable way to deal with the fatigue that could result.

So being dragged out of their bed by an insistent phone call that had been ringing for five straight minutes without reprieve was not calculated to make them pleasant to whoever was on the other end of the call.

"Yeah?"

"About time you answered." That was an unmistakable voice, a blend of acid and amusement that didn't bode well for them today. Their boss, Madame Finch, the second in command of Kuroko's Finest, behind the big fox themself, and the velvet glove that directed the Desire department.

"Madame! Sorry, I didn't realize it was you. Since it's my day off. And you know that I don't get up on my days off until I feel like it."

"Oh hush, you'll be fine. Get some coffee in you and decide whether you're Jack or Jackie today, then I'll see you when you get to my study. Not for work, this is a purely personal thing, you're going to love it."

The call cut out before they could protest or decline, and he sighed. They could just call back and say no. They really could, that was allowed, and it wouldn't have a thing to do with work on Wednesday when they came back in. But they were curious, which she had probably been counting on. There were disadvantages to working for someone who made her living ferreting out desires and fantasies clients wouldn't even admit to themselves.

Fifteen minutes later, coffee in hand, J was fretting back and forth between two closets. Deciding whether they were Jack or Jackie wasn't usually hard. It was instinctual, automatic. But of course Madame had called attention to the choice, so now they were having to decide manually. No indication of preference had been made by their boss, and she hadn't let slip any details about whatever his opportunity was going to entail. If there had been a need for one or the other in particular, Madame would have said so.

J shrugged, and opened the right-hand closet, and started putting Jackie on. It wasn't anything as dramatic as changing skin or anything, she was naturally pretty androgynous anyway, so becoming female was mostly a matter of clothing and accessory choices. Cute panties, a short skirt, a halter top. She ran a finger across the accessory shelf, then grabbed the synthetic orchid bloom, clipped it against her left ear, and paused to check the mirror. Little bits of makeup brushed into her fur to shade this, lighten that. Tiny details that no one would consciously notice, but that would cue "female" in their minds.

She could have gone all the way, picked up the genetic mods to go all the way female, down to the DNA, but... she felt like it would have been a waste, since she also had days where she wanted to put on a three piece suit and not look even a hair out of place. Flexibility. Fluidity.

All good, all set, and she stepped out of her apartment.

The ride through public transport was fairly short, and Monday morning foot traffic was blessedly light. The ground-level streets were half empty, although in Boston that still meant she couldn't see anything shorter than five stories until she was right next to it. A curse, being five foot nothing in a city where heights ranged up to over ten feet.

Her objective, a blocky, ugly building in midtown, was her workplace, some sort of former office building that had been converted to a one-stop depot for pleasures and comforts of every variety. And up to the eleventh floor, the training and residence for the Desire department. Everything from custom fantasy experiences to the highest quality pornography, and sex work with a solid core of professionalism. Low turnover, high demand, these folks were well paid and well supported.

Speaking of support, the twins were waiting for her. Eric and Erika, not even distantly related, but the genetic lottery had made them near identical tabby cats. And they had leaned into it hard. They spoke as one, moved with the sort of seamless cohesion that indicated they might have a single mind between them. "Mistress is waiting for you in the speakeasy." One of the themed rooms. Her favorite, for more casual things.

Madame wasn't alone in the room, but Jackie had expected as much. The little gray-furred mouse had her ginger curls done up in a messy braid down her back, and most of a three piece suit on. The waistcoat was subtly corseted, it definitely didn't give any effect of masculinity to the petite woman, but it was a sharp outfit for a lady shooting pool.

The room was archaic, everything in it was made to look like it had been pulled from the early twentieth century. From the poker and pool tables to the bar, and the faint haze of sweet smoke. Nothing so terrible as tobacco, but various inhaled substances were readily available, as was a wide variety of drinks. The mouse's opponent at the table was unfamiliar, a coyote who managed to somehow look scruffy in an immaculately tailored suit.

The coyote had just finished racking the balls when Jackie came in, and gestured the mouse to open the game. The panda knew her boss was quite good at the game, so the outcome was unpredictable.

"Oh good, you made it in time." Madame Finch leaned on the table and cracked the cue ball hard, arcing it along the table. "This is Herr Richter, visiting from Nuremberg." The name wasn't familiar, but that wasn't really a surprise. She couldn't know everyone in the world. Two balls rolled neatly into corner pockets, and the mouse moved to line up another shot. "I've made a wager with him. He's buying dinner either way, but if he beats me, I'll be serving. If I beat him, you'll be Serving."

There was a slight but notable difference in tone between serving and Capital-S-Serving. And a marked difference in the acts as well. The coyote's ears perked. He'd noticed the variation in voice, but his tilted head meant he probably didn't quite understand the significance.

Jackie did. If the mouse lost, she'd probably be sitting naked in Richter's lap while they ate, and the expected follow ups to that were easy to see. If Finch won, however... well, Jackie would have to put some very particular skills to use. The coyote looked like he'd be a good time, and if Finch was offering herself as a bet, he'd have been passed by security already.

She missed a shot, and the coyote grinned, chalked his cue, and started hammering balls into their pockets with metronome precision. Seven of them, but he missed his shot on the eight ball, and Finch grinned. "Jackie, why don't you go soothe his pride while I finish this." With no interference on the table, she was able to quickly close out the game, sink her remaining balls, then curl the eight ball into place.

"I get a feeling, Fraulein, that you had the game rigged from the start." The coyote was grinning, no sting in his words. Possibly because there was a red panda with both hands in his trousers. Jackie was pleased with what she found, exploring a stranger to find out what bits they had was always pleasant. And how those bits reacted when she played with them.

"I don't know what you mean, Herr Richter. Had you not missed your shot, I'd be on my knees in front of you while my girl did her thing. As it stands, though, she's going to make sure you're very comfortable until we go to dinner."

He was rising rapidly under her hands, and she felt the tapered tip, the little bulge that meant a knot later. "Is there any sort of restrictions, may I do as I please with her?"

Jackie's turn to talk. "There's limits, but unless you're a very dedicated and fast-moving kinky bastard, you won't reach them. I'll warn you if you get close."

"So if I wanted to tie you to the table and fuck your throat?"

"Ooooh, please do!"

Finch snorted amusement and settled into one of the nearby seats, opened a screen, and started to work on something. Jackie wasn't worried about what, it wasn't her business, and there were hands under her skirt, on her ass, cupping.

"Oh hey, that's not a pussy." The coyote seemed surprised.

"I hope that's not a problem." She pushed the bulge in her panties against his paw. "We can swap me out for someone else if it is."

"Nein, I can make you beg easier this way. Well, make you want to beg, I'm going to have your mouth full."

"Promises or empty threats until you back them up, Herr Richter."

"Running your mouth, little panda. Going to get you in so much trouble."

He steered her toward the poker table, pushed her down on it, on her face, hiked her skirt up and slapped her ass. Not hard, just enough for the sound of it and a lusty shudder and sigh from her. He'd have to try much harder to discourage her.

Speaking of encouragement, she wiggled her ass, raised her tail further, and reached back to push her skirt down over her hips to fall to the floor.

Jackie heard the door open, something quiet spoken behind her, then a soft weight on her back. A coil of rope, which the coyote quickly put to use. A handful of minutes later, Jackie was sprawled on her back over the table, wrists bound to one leg, head hanging over the edge. Her panties were stretched pretty tight, too, and squirming her hips got a lot of pleasant friction down there.

"Now, none of that. We don't want you taking care of yourself. You need to ask for that, for any of that." Richter pushed her panties down, leaving her dick resting against her stomach, without any of the delicious friction she'd been enjoying. She whined a little bit, a plaintive sound, but that only got a laugh from the coyote. "If you want more touches, you'll have to earn them with that mouth."

"Sure, but first you need to get your trousers out of the way. I can hardly be expected to suck you dry with your pants on, can I?"

"Is she always this sassy, Madame Mouse?" Richter opened his fly, pulled himself out, and gave Jackie her first taste. Nothing unusual, he tasted strongly of happy male, big enough to be a pleasant mouthful but not worryingly large. She started to suck, because what else was she going to do? There was a dick, if she wanted some reciprocation, she needed to start playing first. And it was fun! If she could get his knees weak, that'd be a reward of its own.

"Oh, very nice. She's as eager as she is sassy. Tell me, Madame, masochist much?"

Oh no.

"Oh, very much. She likes very little more than being made into a sobbing, shuddering wreck. so please feel free to hurt her as you like. If you'd like help or suggestions, just let me know." Not things Jackie would readily bring up with a new client or stranger, but there was no doubt he had ideas in that regard. The hand that grabbed her scruff and dug claws in to hold her head steady said that.

And then he was off to town, using her maw and muzzle like it was a sleeve, not part of a person, just a thing to get himself off with. He switched grips now and then, always claws, always somewhere he could dig them in sharp. Always with a growled warning about making things so much worse if he felt even a single touch of teeth.

He knotted her maw, too, stuffed his dick as far in as he could and left her choking and gagging while he emptied his load into her.

It was awesome.

Madame had been right, she was thoroughly enjoying herself, even with tears in her eyes and several spots on her neck and throat she was sure were bleeding. Her back hurt from being arched like this too long and she was pretty sure her voice would be rough, if she were allowed to talk.

He wasn't idle while tied, either, and she felt him shift and tug and move, then felt hands on her cock, felt rope there, some sort of harness wrapping around her hips, tightening. So tight, with consecutive turns wrapping enough to form an achingly tight cock ring at her base. Throbbing tightness, and her hips moved a little, stirring against what was turning into a very snug and uncomfortable hip harness.

Plenty of time had passed for the coyote to soften a bit, enough to withdraw comfortably from her muzzle, and let her lift her head and look down. Very good, the cock half tucked back into her panties was painfully hard, trapped and red, aching to be touched and hurt. The harness continued up her torso, tight there as well, many wraps around her stomach like an improvised corset that made it hard to breathe. And he finished by untying her wrists from the table, pulling her off of it, and running that rope down behind her, between her legs, and securing a nice little noose around her balls. Any movement sent shocks of ache and tension through her, left her panting shallow breaths and trembling.

Madame's voice was closer, and the mouse did a slow circuit, inspecting the rope work. "Very nice. I'll have to do similar the next time I play with her. Look how out of breath she is, look at her makeup smearing. Beautiful. What will you do with her now?"

The coyote was buttoning his slacks again, smoothing his shirt and fastening his belt. "I thought I was buying dinner? She can sit on my lap while we eat. I trust you had somewhere in mind where she can stay like this, or do we need to hide how she's being kept?"

Jackie at least knew the probable answer to that question, and Madame confirmed it. "We have a very private dining experience on the top floor of the building. You can bring her along just like this, and no one will bat an eyelash when she cries or begs."

"Oh good, a desperate slut is a wonderful accompaniment to dinner." Jackie had apparently had enough time to recover and find her feet, in Richter's opinion at least, since he took her wrists and used them to push her toward the door. Eric and Erica were waiting to take his coat, to pick up the room after they left, as Madame led them toward the elevators. Several safeguards in place, most elevators wouldn't stop at this floor, and the one that was very strictly not for use by minors. There were many floors in the building that were fully or partly off limits, given the nature of their company.

While they waited for the elevator, while they rode it up, there was a constant shifting of attention, the coyote just playing with the ropes he'd tied, seeing which tug or twist made her knees buckle, made her whine in distress or shudder in conflicted pain and pleasure. There was a lot of the latter, and he had found a nice balance by the time they reached their table between letting her function enough to participate in the conversation and being able to just turn her off with a tug.

The service was all in-house, no one even asked what was going on. The two in charge got a nice booth with a view out over the harbor. Jackie got a cushion on the floor, but doubted she'd be allowed to get comfortable on it. Doubt proven in a moment, when Madame grinned. "If you want her to eat with us, you can, but I think we'll have a much nicer meal if you tell her to find her happy place."

There was a trace of confusion in the coyote's voice. "That's an odd instruction. Should I ask, or is this the sort of thing that's best seen for oneself?"

"It's an order that's known by every one of our submissives and bottoms, but it's different for each of them. Jackie, go to your happy place."

It wasn't anything like conditioning, there was no compulsive response, but she squirmed around on the cushion, seeking a pose that was just right. It meant arching her back just so, tilting her hips, and a slow, continuous swaying back and forth to get there, the flex and tension of ropes melding into a haze of pleasure and pain and need.

"Jackie's happy place is a state of aching need and submission. She'll edge herself all day long and hurt herself for your viewing pleasure. You really don't need to do anything to assist. You can, of course, and she will compensate. Go ahead, try. Our drinks will be here in a moment, then we'll talk business."

Of course it was a business meeting. Those seemed to be happening frequently these days, and one or another of Desire's toys were involved, to make relations better and help the other party feel like they were getting a great deal. Jackie had barely managed that thought when she felt a paw caressing her far-too-tightly-bound balls, a soft push of pleasure, then pain as he took a grip and squeezed. Hard enough and long enough to make her cry out, shudder as her hips moved, rubbing herself with the tight ropes and harness.

Closer to orgasm, shaking, when he let go she relaxed, pulling herself back from the edge a little. Madame was right. Her happy place was a tear-stained, desperate, aching mess and if that suited the coyote, if that was what he wanted to see, she'd stay there until she collapsed.

The meeting proceeded like that, the mouse and coyote discussing something about building codes and prices while one or the other of them idly toyed with her. Mostly additional sparks of pain, but Madame spent a good few minutes rubbing her torturously bound shaft and that nearly sent her over the edge. She had to arch and pull and nearly choke herself on the ropes to keep from tipping over without permission.

Permission, she'd really, really love that. But happy place didn't include begging. Happy place was where she got to and stayed until whoever had sent her there decided she had to come away. Had to, not got to. Once she was here, in this head space, there was no desire to leave, only to hang here, taut as a drum, practically singing with tension and need.

"-at really does seem like a mutually beneficial agreement. While I won't make promises, I'll deliver this to my superiors. I expect they'll be as pleased with it as I am. Are you sure I can't take this one back with me? She would surely sweeten the deal."

Madame was slow to respond. "I'm afraid not, Herr Richter. She's going to need a few days off after being in her happy place so long. However, if you'll let me know the next time you're going to be in Boston, I'll make sure she's available for you the entire stay."

"Your generosity is matched only by your beauty, madame. I had not planned on staying so long as will be needed to help her come down safely, but I'm sure I can shift my flight a few hours. How does one retrieve her from this happy place?"

"You don't have to stay for aftercare, Richter. Don't miss your flight. I'll make sure she's well taken care of. The twins are warming up her favorite blanket as we speak. But I'm sure you'll enjoy watching the end result of your hours of teasing her, no?"

"If you are certain that her care will be handled well, I will trust you on that. And yes, please, show me how she comes out of the happy place."

Madame leaned down and stroked her hand across Jackie's cheek, feeling the tears there, rubbed her chin and pulled her gaze up. The mouse had near hypnotic blue eyes, too dark to be natural. "Jackie, my sweet. It's time to come out of your happy place."

There was a moment of denial, of not wanting to, until that melted under her command. Her whole body sank, exhausted, shaking and aching. Aside from one bit, anyway. The combination of hours of edging and tight, tight rope made sure that bit stayed painfully hard.

"Herr Richter, do you want her to calm down, or do you want to see her make a terrible mess of herself?" Madame didn't break her eye contact, she was looking only at Jackie, those vibrant blues keeping her focus and attention.

"Oh, if she's going to ruin her makeup in tears, we might as well let her complete the mess."

"Hear that, sweety? Lean back, arch for me, show me what you want me to touch."

Jackie collapsed onto her back, waited a moment to get her breath back, then arched her back, lifting her hips up. The harness tightened up around her, pulled her cock up, pushed away from her body and just throbbing painfully. She felt a fingertip caress there, so gentle and careful, stroking, nothing hard or fast, easing her closer and closer. She was free to enjoy it, to, not trying to meter the edge and hold shy of it.

All of the previous restraint crumbled after a few seconds of dainty mouse fingers. Powerful orgasm, cock twitching as it emptied onto her belly. The tight ropes kept it from going further, but there was a big puddle on her stomach, and Madame let her fall onto the cushion. "There, sweety. You just catch your breath. Oh, I love what those ropes around your hips do, I love how you hurt for me like this. It's beautiful. The twins will be here in just a moment to help clean you up, and I'll be back as soon as I've set Herr Richter on his way."

Eric and Erica appeared, and Madame left her for a moment while the cats cut rope from her body, helped her sit up, got some water in her. Big warm blanket, it might seem silly when she was already a densely fluffy thing to begin with, but there was a primal level of comfort to being wrapped up warm after being wrung out solid. They'd just helped her to her feet when Madame reappeared and took back over from them.

"Come back downstairs with me sweetheart. That's it, lean on me while we get to the elevator. We'll get some cleaning up done, dress those rope burns. You're going to hurt for a while, he was really tight with those ropes. But you held up beautifully, my sweet, as I knew you would. I'll tell you when you have your head all together again what deal you just helped seal." Her head was a little fractured, thoughts muddy and poorly connected. The praise came through clearly enough, as well as the gentle direction. Madame knew how to handle her, when her head was still fuzzy from subspace.

Time was irrelevant, and she was fairly sure that she'd napped at least a little bit. There were plenty of aching spots when she was able to focus again, lots of abrasions and rope burns. joints that ached from being in one position too long then forced to move, muscles that protested from the same. But she was wrapped up in a blanket, Madame was holding her while she read something on her slate.

"Oh, there we are, I see your eyes are clear?" It was sort of a code phrase, a way to ask "are you back in your head" without being that blunt about it.

"Eyes are clear, Madame. That was... intense."

"Richter and I have had encounters before. I know he's fond of being mean without cruelty, and I know you can not only handle that but thrive under it. So I saw an opportunity, and pushed. You weren't a distraction for him, by the way, just an... enticement. I can play the positive reinforcement game with anyone I care to, once I know what buttons to press."

Jackie grinned. She was worn out and tired and a little giddy, but wanted to get the full debriefing handled. "So what did I help with?"

"We're contemplating expansion, opening a branch office in Europe. Desire will still base from here, but putting a local depot for us, Peace of Mind, and Indulgence will let us operate more effectively when we're in the area. Kind of like the Portland office."

That was a big deal, they'd largely been restricted to operations on the east coast of the US, then later the Pacific Northwest. Not by law or anything, but by the simple necessity for having the personnel to safely handle their jobs. Putting Peace of Mind and Indulgence in an area permanently gave Desire the support staff to handle events and clients without them coming to the Northeast Sprawl area first. There were a lot of potential clients and opportunities that might be coming in the near future. Also potentially a lot of transatlantic travel for her department.

"Sounds good, Madame. I've always wanted to be tortured in a castle dungeon."