Punishment and Reward
Hi. ^^ I'm Night-Creeper and I've written a little story. It's not as smutty as some of the others you can read on this fantastic site, but I've decided to play in the boundaries between Punishment and Reward, just to make sure those very naughty urges inside me get a place to go.
It's my first story on the website, so I've kept it open for the readers' imagination do so. Comments are well received, and if you've got an idea you want someone to write up, I'll be glad to try and tackle them. Free of charge.
"Jackie?" The voice asked patiently.
The Fox couldn't tear his eyes away from the spoon. It... It had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. No. No that was crazy. A spoon couldn't be beautiful. A spoon was just a tool. A spoon was... But the way it reflected the light! The way that it bent and twisted the room itself, almost like it was twisting the world! Like... the way... The way his Master did. Oh god. He couldn't take it anymore. He was sorry. He was so sorry.
"Jackie, I don't like being ignored." The voice was firmer this time, so it meant that Jackie (Or Jack, as he had been in a previous life) was forced to look up, at the evil, twisted, awesome Bear. He was smiling. Not unkindly. But in a small, satisfied way, as if he had just been proven right. Jackie humped forward, once, in his restraints, and got no friction for his effort.
He panted harder, his fur wet and clinging in the steam. And there was that goddamn spoon again, flashing in the light.
"You're a good boy, aren't you?" In the leather straps, he nodded his head as best as he could, unable to move much because of the wicked way his maw had been strapped open. His tongue hung out madly, jittering with each heavy pant he took. The bear paused, to pour more water on the coals next to his little box. The blue, wet, cool, heavenly water was turned into a torture weapon. The Fox felt fresh tears sting his eyes and immediately hated them, knowing it was just costing him more water that he didn't have.
The spoon. Focus on the spoon.
"Then why did I catch you being so naughty?" There wasn't a drop of anger in the Bear's voice. And it was neither a menacing threat, or a bitter growl. But it hurt the Fox more than anything he had ever heard before. It stung his very heart. Because he heard disappointment.
"I'hm Sow-hwey!" He shouted, sounding ridiculous and not caring, thrusting forward again at an attempted to get some sort of release. He was going mad. He was sure he was going mad. The Bear was going to make him go mad...
Spoon. He latched onto the thought. The spoon. He could handle a spoon. He'd seen them, used them, they were a part of everyday life, weren't they? The Fox latched his eyes upon it and was instantly rewarded, because the Bear lowered it, brought it down through the air softly and slowly, and pressed the tip of it into the tub of ice cream he held within his paw.
Just the sight of the metal, now clinging with steam, sliding into the white cream made him almost explode. Another thrust, this one costing him too much energy. He snapped his eyes shut and panted so hard.
"You're Sorry?" The Bear asked. "Of course you're sorry. But the question is, Jackie, is if you're sorry that you did it, or sorry that you were caught." Jackie whimpered. He couldn't help it. And now he was sure that he had gone mad, because no one could do this to another fur. No one was that horrible. Or that good! "Now look at me, Jackie."
And the fox did, staring past his gaping maw to look up at the bear, through the Perspex glass that was his torture chamber. Spoon. The thought came back to him as he watched the Bear make a trail in the soft, sweet nectar. When he had collected enough he lifted the spoon to his maw. He paused, making sure that the Fox's wide, pleading eyes were fixed firmly on the ice cream. Then it was gone, into his maw and down his throat.
Jackie squealed as he came. A soft, feminine sound that started as an O and ending up as an E. He went limp in his restraints, sinking barely an inch, putting his full weight on the already tight, slippery straps. He had been hanging onto that one, ever since he had been strapped in, ever since the wicked toy in his rear had began its evil teasing.
"Jackie?" The Bear asked, not allowing the Fox a moment to doze in his pleasure. When he wasn't answered, he took a glass of water and moved to the large, heated box of coals on the side of the tiny chamber and turned the heat up, again. He didn't need to ask a second time, because the Fox looked up with tears in his eyes. "Would you like some ice cream, Jackie?"
"Ye'! P'heeeease..." The Fox sobbed, squirming against the toy as it vibrated back to life, moments too late to please him, now just a new form of torture on his body.
"Then you shouldn't have been doing it. Or been caught doing it." And with that, the Bear turned and walked to the stairs. He paused, flipping the light switch off before he padded softly up in the darkness, listening to the Fox sob into the darkness.
As he opened the door to the hallway, making a mental note to check back in an hour's time, the light caught the spoon...