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"So... I've a question."

"Go on..."

"It's like a philosophical kinda question."

"Oh, this'll be good..."

"Go on, Sid."

Sid the otter sat on a dead tree trunk, right by the campfire, across from Caste and

Miles. The burly cajun alligator and lanky rabbit watched the otter with curious bemusement as the campfire blazed, hot and heavy, toasting them in warmth under the evening summer sun. Large, luxurious tents were placed at intervals around the fire, forming a ring and beyond that, the bikes were parked facing outward, as if they were standing watch like mechanical sentinels.

"So," Sid continued, rubbing his oily paws together. "How much would you pay... for a

blowjob?"

Caste and Miles blinked.

Cynthia ducked out from under the closest tent, rolling up the sleeves of her leather jacket, staring at Sid, having overheard. "I don't think you know what philosophical means, Sid."

The others grinned and Caste patted a spot next to him on his own log; Cynthia hopped over and nuzzled up beside him.

"Sid, I wouldn't pay for a girl to go down below," said Caste in his thick Cajun accent, throwing an arm around Cynthia. She was dwarfed in his shear size; his forearm was easily as thick as her thigh.

"And I wouldn't either," said Miles.

"You already did, bunny boy. Remember last summer?"

"Ah well, see... she actually belted me in the balls and ran off after I gave her the

money, so technically I didn't pay for a blowjob," Miles argued.

"You just paid a girl to punch you in the nuts," stated Caste. "Whatever gets your

motor runnin'!

"In theory," snapped Sid, "would you pay fifty? Sixty dollars?"

"I dunno, man. Get to the point!"

"Okay, it's just... there's this local girl I deal to, every time we come out here. I met up

with her yesterday and she says she can't afford a to pay for even a speedball, so she offers to suck my dick," Sid said, as casually as if talking about the weather. "So, I don't want to give her more than her mouth is worth, you know?"

Cynthia rolled her eyes as the others chuckled and shook their heads.

"You are something else, Siddy," Miles laughed, bouncing off to probably go get his guitar. "A master of the fairer sex."

Caste got to his feet, groaning under the strain of his own massive bulk. He wasn't overweight, maybe a little pudge in his belly and behind but he was just simply huge. A few heads taller than even Kane, the gang leader.

"Come on pup, we've got time to kill," he said in a low growl, reaching out and pulling Cynthia to her feet. They crossed over to Caste's tent, leaving Sid sulking by the fire.

"He's such a sleaze," spat Cynthia, entering the tent. It was the size of a small bedroom, with very little headroom. Lying on one of two squishy sleeping bags was a curvy lioness, Lola, Caste's mate. She glanced up from her leather bound journal and raised her eyebrows.

"Again?"

"Again," Cynthia and Caste said together, as Caste stripped off the Labrador- doberman's leather jacket, uncovering her completely. The gang had a bottomless dress code of course. The pup turned and cupped one of his leathery balls, then reached out to casually rub his sheath with the other paw, coaxing him to prepare.

"Should I be jealous?" Lola asked, sitting up bow-legged. Cynthia threw a grin over her shoulder. "We know you like to watch," she giggled. The corners of Lola's mouth twitched and she lay back down, ready to watch the show.

Cynthia had not yet chosen someone she wanted to settle down with. With the exception of Nikki, a wolverine and only female alpha of the gang, girls were tied to their mates and weren't allowed to sleep with other partners without permission. But Cynthia had free rein, despite being the youngest and smallest of the girls.

Caste was surprisingly both gentle and delicate with his big, heavy hands. They felt worn and leathery as they pressed against Cynthia's sides, holding her in place against the soft sleeping bag. Caste's cock pushed itself from the folds of his sheath, its peppery scent suddenly filling the small space of the tent, washing over the girls. Taking both of Cynthia's little wrists, Caste pinned her to the sleeping bag, lying atop her lithe form as his swelling humanoid cock shaft ground itself between her legs, expanding to full size. The gator's big face hung just above Cynthia's and she strained her neck to lean up and peck him on the nose. Caste smirked, slowly rotating his hips, pressing the underside of his meaty cock into Cynthia's moist folds. The pup groaned, arching her back to press her crotch up against him, then she opened her eyes, looking upside-down at Lola.

The lioness watched them with a heavy, focused stare, chewing her lip relentlessly. Cynthia winked back at her as Caste buried his face into the pup's neck, nibbling playfully.

"Oooh, r-right there..." Cynthia moaned, and her eyes fluttered shut, the pup losing herself in the moment. Caste knew just where to scratch her itches. The big Cajun released her wrists, reaching down to grip his shaft and angle the tip of his cock against Cynthia's slit.

"Don't you move now, girl." The alpha breathed slowly as he pushed against her lower folds, finding the point of least resistance and slowly he pressed in. It was still quite hard to ge him inside; Cynthia's sex was soaked in her own juices, mixing with the gator's own pre, but Caste was still massive and took a few moments of tense, deep breathing before he could squeeze his rounded tip inside her.

"Oh fuck!" Cynthia cried as the gator's cock pushed itself inside. "Y-you're so big," she whined, writhing in the folds of the sleeping bag. The alpha male shushed her softly, pressing his face into her neck again and licking it lovingly, his warm wet tongue massaging her short cut fur. Cynthia shut her eyes and arched her back again as he sank about halfway inside her. It took a moment for her to adjust to such a thick girth.

As they settled together, Lola reached down between her legs, pressing a fuzzy digit into her pussy, resting a thumb on her clit. There was just something about watching her lover screw her friend that got the little lioness going. Sometimes she wondered if she enjoyed watching, rather than being part of the fun. She licked her lips hungrily, and crawled closer to get a better look. "Fuck her, baby," the lioness commanded.

Caste raised his head, meeting her eyes and winked. Then he straightened up and gripped Cynthia by the sides again and rolled his hips back, pulling out slowly. Cynthia whined in disappointment, her body wanting more... begging and pleading to be filled.

Then Caste pushed forward, filling her up again, her red hot flesh stretching around his girth as he broke into a rhythm... It was slow at first: in... out... in... and out... between long deep breaths, giving Cynthia time to adjust to his thick length... in... out... in... out... annnnd in...

Lola took Cynthia's wrists as Caste had done, leaning over and kissing her upside down, their muzzles locking together as Lola pushed her tongue into Cynthia's mouth. The teen pup "mmphed!" in excitement as the lioness pinned her down, the gator holding her so tightly she could barely wriggle.

In... out... in... And out... and in. The slick sounds of flesh grinding together filled the tent, mixing with Caste's groans of delight and the paired moans of the girls as they made out, their tongues rolling together. The alligator growled and picked up speed, Cynthia's tightness straining around his cock. It was hard work fucking her; he had to resist the urge to go balls deep, his sheer size would have genuinely hurt her, but damn she was good and soft and warm and so very wet... her vaginal walls felt like silk, massaging his sensitive glands almost sensually, no matter how hard or how wild he fucked her.

In and out, in and out, in and out and in and out-in-out-in-out-in-out-in-out....

The sounds of his balls swinging back and forth and slapping against Cynthia's backside were added to the symphony. And soon the gator was gasping for breath, struggling to keep up the pace. Lola pulled away from Cynthia, a glistening trail of saliva snapping between their muzzles. Then the lioness leaned over and wrapped her lips around one of Cynthia's nipples, suckling hard as the Labrador-doberman howled in delight. In turn, she reached back blindly and pressed a digit to Lola's dripping sex, her finger sinking straight into her pussy, all the way to knuckle. Lola bit softly on Cynthia's bud of flesh, as if in response, then swapped to the opposite nipple.

Caste hammered away, Cynthia's digitigrade legs wrapped around his love-handles and bouncing up and down in the air with each hot thrust of the alpha-male's throbbing, pulsing cock. And then the three of them were entangled with one another. Lola reaching up to nuzzling Caste's big belly, planting a trail of kisses up his chest; Cynthia leaning up and burying her own muzzle against Lola's pussy, tasting her salty sweet excitement, the honey running down her little chin as she lapped at it eagerly; Caste sliding his big fat cock in and out, so slick with hot juiciness that stank of musky love.

He growled in urgency, his balls aching and ready to blow, his burning cock eager to finish, and then they came together. Cynthia felt an electrical explosion deep inside as Caste roared, squirting his thick, hot load up into her. Lola trembled as her clit buzzed against Cynthia's lips, a fresh wave of honey flowing from her folds. The trio just froze, basking in the brilliancy of the orgasm, letting in wash over the them, course through them, filling their heads with fuzzy funny feeling. And then they collapsed together, a hot and sweaty sore heap of fur, scales and flesh.

Cynthia gasped for air, grinning ear to ear, feeling cum leak from her sex into the sleeping bag. "Th-that was amazing..."

"Oh... you think we're done?" Caste growled, his voice still trembling from his orgasm. "Not even close..."

It was over a month since Cynthia had left the city and gone out east, heading into the open desert. Now they had come to great grasslands and rivers bordered by distant mountain ranges that seemed other-worldly. The Labrador-doberman pup had become captivated by the nomad life of the gang. They would drive along the highway and double back around to country roads, taking in the sights and surroundings of the land. They had barely crossed a third of the country even though they had been riding for weeks; their rest stops were beautiful glades of lush vegetation, or hilltops with expansive views, or banks with sparkling streams; their cosy tents were bathed in firelight and its welcoming warmth made it more hospitable and comfortable than anywhere Cynthia had ever been.

The hierarchy was absolute. Kane was in charge, a quiet and enigmatic Rottweiler, which was strange for such a boisterous breed. Cynthia had run into two other gangs during her travels: The Sundowners and The Western Wheels, and though they were friendly, they could be quite... aggressive, to say the least.

The leaders of both groups had been loud and lunkheaded, throwing their weight around and challenging everyone and anyone to fight, yelling about how great, how powerful and how feared they were. To Cynthia, they just seemed tiresome and childish. But Kane carried himself with poise and dignity; his presence seemed to demand authority and he had a strange, almost mystical aura about him. Cynthia felt drawn to him, but the others had told her not to bother; he hadn't been with anyone since his last mate and on that subject Kane was tight-lipped. Only Caste knew the full story.

Caste was Kane's best friend, an alligator from the bayou who had known Kane since they were teenagers. When Caste left the deep south and found work fixing up bikes in a small- town gang, he had met the rottie, who had been little more than a pup cleaning down saddles. Kane and Caste were like brothers, so much so that Caste took the brunt of shotgun blast for him when their old gang had been attacked by rivals. Half of Caste's face, neck and chest was a spidery criss-cross of deep pink scars where buck-shot had sliced across him, and his right eye was partially damaged; but he had survived and been stronger for it. Eventually, the two friends had formed their own gang with Dex the doberman and Royce the grey-white wolf. And from then on it built up, with other members coming and going, or staying permanently until they had become family.

Though, Cynthia had often wondered why they kept Sid and Eva around. They were both unpleasant and seemed bitter; Eva seemed jealous of the other girls and seemed over protective of her otter, which Cynthia thought was ironic considering no one else seemed to want to touch him or his slimy fur.

One night, a couple of weeks back, she got her answer off Royce.

"Sid's always been good with the bikes... probably why he's so oily. He's covered in engine oil," the wolf laughed. "And once you're in, you're family. But personally..." he leaned in so he and Cynthia could not be overheard... "I don't think Eva was the same after her initiation."

"Oh?" Cynthia shifted uncomfortably. "What happened?" She realised she sounded accusatory and Royce quirked an eyebrow.

"She agreed to it, to the gang fuck," he said matter-of-factly. "Not all girls are as strong as you." And now they were touching on a subject that had been poking around the back of Cynthia's mind ever since her own initiation. She knew her limits and was comfortable with her open-mindedness, but of course most girls were a little more conservative.

"Did she want you stop?" She was picking her words carefully, but Royce understood and he sighed.

"We never rape. Ever. I'd say - let me think - I'd say half the girls that partake in our little initiation realise they've bitten off more than they can chew and ask us to stop. So we stop."

"And then what?"

"Sometimes they're fine, sometimes they're a bit shook up, but they leave. Sometimes they run off to call the police and we have to scram. Lola, Jenny and Kara were fine, they were like you. And of course there were other girls, who decided to leave after a summer or a few years. A few girls just wanting a taste of the life."

"It's some taste," Cynthia grinned, nuzzling up to Royce and putting a paw oh-so- suggestively on his thigh. He grinned down at her.

"Barking up the wrong tree here pup."

"So you're totally gay?"

"Totally."

Cynthia pouted playfully and Royce laughed, "It's not like you've a shortage of

potential cock here."

"True," she agreed.

At that point, Eva had come out of the tent, stretching tall with her tail hanging down her thighs. She caught their eye and she just turned away, heading off into the woods.

"So, Eva?" Cynthia asked and Royce continued.

"I think after it was over, she regretted it. Some do... it's why they leave so soon."

"It is a lot to handle," Cynthia said, her mind going back to that couch in the lock-up.

But Royce just shrugged.

"Its just our rule. Most gangs have similar rules for their girls. The Sundowners give

their members a fuckload of drugs and if they don't overdose, they're in. The Chained Fists make initiates fight each other, both girls and boys. The Bloody Cunts used to make girls... well... its in

the name."

"Oh gawd... really?"

"Yeah, they... they weren't good guys."

"Are they still around?"

"The leader's mate killed him, then the whole group just fell apart. I think she took the

girls and started her own gang but they keep to themselves. There's a bit of history for you."

And then Cody had approached and the three of them bantered away for the rest of

the evening... And that had been two weeks ago.

Now they were up north somewhere, camped at a meandering stream. Cynthia was

laying by the bank, basking in the sun, her head in Lola's lap while the lioness toyed around with her journal, probably scribbling something poetic. Across the river, Bruce the bear was fishing with Royce, arguing over technique and stance.

"What are we going to have for dinner?" asked Cynthia.

"It's Mile's Famous Meatloaf night," replied Lola.

"Exactly... so what are we going to have instead?"

The lioness giggled and swatted Cynthia with the journal. "It's free food, don't

complain."

"Well, we still have to earn it, don't we?" The two girls fell into fits of giggles and lazed

about, cuddling until the sun started to set and the air became chilly. The boys gave up fishing and turned to sword fighting with the rods, playing until Bruce whipped Royce hard by accident and then chose to run before Royce could retaliate, and the grey wolf chased him back towards camp.

"I wonder what my friends are doing..." sighed Cynthia, looking up at the clouds.

"Probably wasting away their summer on phones, Furbook, Twitter, Instapaw, all that stuff," said Lola. "Not like us."

but..."

"I'm glad I joined," said Cynthia happily. "I'm not gonna stay forever, I know that "It's fun while it lasts, right?" Lola said, understanding.

The sky turned blood red and the clouds seemed to catch fire as the sun disappeared entirely. It really was something magical. As the girls got to their feetpaws, the sound of bikes revving up from the campsite filled the air.

"Are we leaving?" Cynthia asked as they broke into a trot.

"Dunno."

They hurried back to camp to find the others bathed in lamplight, prepping their bikes,

an excited buzz in the air.

"We're going into town!" grinned Cody, tossing Cynthia her helmet. "You can ride with

Royce and me."

"Oooh, what's in town?"

"The best damn bar in the country," cheered Royce and a few shouts of agreement sounded over the noise of the bikes. "And the best part is, no Mile's Meatloaf!" Everyone laughed, except the rabbit who folded his arms in defence.

The grey wolf scooched forward to allow room for both Cynthia and Cody and everyone waiting, their bikes idle for Kane to start off the trip. The Rottweiler emerged from his tent, like a shadow in the dark. He met Cynthia's eyes from a brief moment, and when she smiled, he immediately looked away. Even over the noise of the engines, his calm and collected voice was clear, "We're going in for the night. But I don't want no drama from anyone, understood?"

A chorus of yeses sounded off and the dog stared at them for a brief moment, as if silently hammering his point into them, then he crossed over and mounted his bike, kicking back its stand and rolling off into the night. Like cavalrymen cheering at the charge, the gang followed their leader, sidling into a single file and picking up speed until they were tearing through the countryside like growling wheeled monsters in the night.

The gang sped through the town, cutting through the peace and quiet like a sharp knife in the night. Midnight wanderers stopped and stared, or kept their heads down, fearing attracting attention from the intimidating bikers. Cynthia couldn't help but relish in the feeling of danger and power, grinning as they passed a busy nightclub; she watched the lengthy line of would-be patrons jump in surprise and practically melt into the wall, standing well back from the sidewalk as the bikes zoomed past.

"Where are we going?" Cynthia yelled over her shoulder to Cody.

The fox leaned into her ear to reply, "The bar is just by the lakeside, other end of the town." And sure enough, the gang began to slow down, turning a corner and heading for an open lot right on the lake.

Peering over Royce's shoulder, Cynthia could make out a very large, squat building that was surrounded by dozens of bikes. In bright blue neon, blazed the name Haven's Edge, above the big double doors that led inside. Kane raised his paw and rotated it in a big sweeping circle, ordering his people to park up for the night and they all pulled in by the edge of the lot, right were concrete met the sand at the edge of the lake.

Cynthia's ears still buzzed as the engines cut out, an eerie and overwhelming silence enveloping them all. There was an excitement in the air that gripped the whole gang. It reminded Cynthia of her initiation night, the males surrounding her as she felt their eagerness hanging in the air. But now, even the girls were practically dancing with delight as they all walked as one, over to the doors.

Everyone was babbling to each other happily: Kane and Caste were challenging Manes and Miles to an America versus Britain drinking match; Bruce, Dex and Royce had other friends from other gangs that they were hoping to catch up with, the fox twins were planning to hustle a few card games while Sid and Eva were sullenly silent as always, and Nikki entertained the girls with stories of boys she planned to see and drag out back...

"What's powerbottoming?" Cynthia asked quietly, as she and Cody took up the rear of the group.

"Just ignore Nikki," laughed Cody, playfully taking her paw and swinging it like a cub would, as they approached the doors; the sounds of music and laughter and nightlife began to build from inside. "This is place is gonna blow your mind."

Kane pushed open the massive doors and warm light spilled forth. They entered into a bright foyer, their footpaws on black, dirty hardwood. It wouldn't have looked out of place in a theatre. There were a few bikers congregating in here, smoking and chatting up with their babes and friends. A few looked in the direction of the gang but Kane just headed straight for the next set of doors. The din was coming from inside, clearer now but still muffled.

Standing watch on either side were two of the biggest rhinos that Cynthia had ever seen. They were dressed in leather jackets and denim pants and their heads almost reach the ceiling, and their horns were almost the size of whole leg. Of course she had to look, and squished against each of their inner thighs was an appendage that would have put a damn horse to shame. She felt Cody's paw squeeze a little, an unconscious reaction; so he had noticed the rhinos too...

Kane nodded to both of them and one pushed the door open for the gang, and an explosion of sound burst into the foyer. They all made their way through the doors (Cody gave the doorman an over-eager, more-than-willing smile that was not returned) and entered the bar.

Cynthia's jaw dropped.

The room was cavernously massive, with a bar of bright colourful drinks and bottles running the full length of the left and right walls. Long tables, like something out of a medieval king's hall ran across the room between the bars and at the far end was a stage with an energetic band playing a fantastic passionate mix of country and rock. Everyone was spread out and mingling, but Cynthia could still see the clusters of various gangs, each one sporting a different style leather jacket. At the tables, activities completely contrasted one another. At one end people ate and drank and at another, high stakes card and dice games were being held; crowds gathered around influential speakers and story tellers on some table ends while on others, patrons were straight up fucking. Cynthia had to crane her neck to get a half decent look between the fluctuating crowds, but there, on one of the tables, was a bull railing a rabbit as she squealed hungrily with each forward thrust, clearly enjoying the attention from the voyeuristic onlookers. In fact there was sex everywhere, as casual as polite conversation. Girls and some guys were up against the walls, rocking back and forth and howling in pleasure. Another detailed look at one of those card games revealed that a couple of girls were hard at work under the tables, pleasuring their dominants as they dealt cards. Even right beside them, lingering by the entrance, Cynthia realised a tigress was practically head-butting her lion in the stomach, getting his cock all the way back her throat. The lion spotted her watching and winked, beckoning her to join; the Labrador- doberman pup flushed with excited embarrassment and yipped as Cody moved her towards the nearest bar.

"You need a drink first," he half-laughed, half-warned.

"I-is this n-normal?" said Cynthia, straining her neck as she looked left and right, trying to look at everything at once.

"Oh, not really... this is a quiet night."

"Shut-the-fuck-up-for-real?" she said, aghast.

Cody burst out laughing. "No, not really... come here, what's your poison?" Cody led

over to the bar and hopped up on the stool and shrugged out his shoulders, to loosen up his jacket. Cynthia climbed up next to him and felt warm breath on her arm, watching a female wolf lead a smaller Cody-sized wolf by a leash. She wore stylish leather, not just a jacket but a cap and collar, boots and... Cynthia did a double take at the hefty equine-shaped shiny dildo, strapped to the woman's groin.

She jabbed Cody in the side and pointed out the strap-on wielding dominatrix before she exited through the foyer with her slave. Cody just grinned as if to say, "that's nothing!" Then he swivelled in his chair, back to the bar.

Cynthia felt breath on her shoulder and she twisted and looked up at a hog, staring down at her with watery, unfocused eyes. His face was scratchy and rough looking, his breath stank and he embodied slobbery; he wore only a leather vest with his gang's logo (Nashville Ninety-Niners) stitched on, and a black scuffed helmet made of tin.

"You lost little puppy?" he said, slurring his words. He made Sid the otter look like a clean-cut gentleman.

"Yeah," she drawled sarcastically. "Could you show me where the bar is?" The hog looked affronted but his buddies behind him burst out laughing.

"Ya know what sweetheart?" one of them chuckled, "he's so drunk, that he probably couldn't!" Another chorus of laughs followed and the hog twisted on his stool to face Cynthia. Her eye couldn't help but glance down at the fully erect cock between his legs that looked like it was coated in a layer of... something... And it reeked... Cynthia grimaced, feeling her trained and tested gag-reflex struggling to stay in control.

"You see something ya like, puppy? 'Cause I got a bone for ya-"

"Enough!" barked the bartender, coming up to serve Cynthia and Cody. She was horse, aged but it suited her. She was very beautiful, almost regal like and she clearly commanded

respect. The hog dropped his gaze immediately and muttered something that resembled an

apology.

"Is that Cody Dwyer of the Black Dawn Gang?"

"Hey Rita," and Cody leaned over the bar and pecked her on the cheek as she bent

down. It reminded Cynthia of the ritual a young boy might have with his grandmother or aunt. "Good to see ya, honey!" the horse nickered, "And who's your new friend?"

"I'm Cynthia," and they shook paws. She judged that Rita was the owner of this place.

She wore a frilly red top and tight cut jeans and her auburn curly mane fell into her bright blue eyes. She drew stares from many of the patrons, looks of lust and longing alike.

"First one's on the house, little ones... Cody, you're a Bud light, right? And you

darlin'?"

"Um, the same?"

"You like that? What do you like?"

Cynthia laughed, feeling her cheeks blush, "I mean, I like Cosmos-"

"Done!" Rita said with a smack on the bar, and she went off to prep the drinks.

"They really serve Cosmopolitans here?" Cynthia asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Oh, they'll make anything," Cody answered, "and Kane's got a tab with the place,

he'll pay whatever we have before the night's end." When Rita returned, she brought an ice cold bottle of beer and an elegant Cosmo cocktail with berries that looked divine. The teens toasted and sipped happily. Cynthia's drink was fruity and sweet, tingling her tongue. Better than anything she had had in the city. Then she and Cody decided to swap war stories; Cody told her how he had toured around with a famous rock band as a groupie and managed to take all five members at once, a personal record that he flaunted proudly. Cynthia recanted a particularly raunchy memory of staying in a hotel with her cousin and her uncle and one his friends, then talked about the first time her and Tim, her ex, had messed around. Her tail beat against the seat as she finished the glass, then she turned looked for a bathroom sign.

She asked Cody, who pointed to a hallway on the far side of the bar, and Cynthia slid off the stool. "Save my seat."

She manoeuvred her way through the crowd, heading for the bathroom and ignoring a few of the cat calls and invitations to "Sit on my lap!" and as she reached the hallway, she collided with a massive figure.

"Ooof! Sorry mister!"

She looked up to see a towering black clydesdale stallion, with a mane of dark grey hair, bearing down on her. "No problem, little pup," he said in a gravelly voice. And he smiled in an effort to be friendly, but there was something off. Cynthia didn't know what is was, but she didn't like this guy. As she side-stepped around him and walked off, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching her, with a hungry look in his eye as she turned into the bathroom. There was only one door... of course it was uni-sex... so that meant... yup...

Boys were fucking girls at the sinks, girls were sucking off boys at the walls, and there was a lot of grunting and groaning come from inside the stalls... which, well that could have been anything. Most bar restrooms stank of sweat, urine and other bodily fluids, so Cynthia had been mentally prepared, but there was a peppery scent that wasn't at all unpleasant in the well lit restroom. It was quite clean actually.

Cynthia found an empty stall and stepped inside, hoping nothing would slip out of the two glory holes on either of the partition walls. After she had done her business, she stepped out and over to the sink, where she bumped into the twins, Knox and Knave.

"How goes it, Cynth?" asked Knox. Or possibly Knave...

"I'm good, what are ye doing in here?"

"Hiding from a guy we beat at a poker," said a twin. "We got his watch."

"I thought you beat him."

"Yeah but he didn't bet his watch."

Cynthia giggled. They really were quite charming. They had once been suave solicitors

that were once armoured in pin-striped suits and lived downtown in the best penthouses. But the materialistic and hollow world of corporate law had left them wanting more, and they traded in their pin-stripe jackets for leather ones. Whenever a gang member was pinched by the law, the twins often went down to get him out, either by paying fines, settling out of court or just plain trickery and con-artistry.

"What do you think of the place?" asked Knave/Knox?

"What, the bathroom?" Cynthia joked and she looked down the sinks to where a little tigress was getting pounded by a bull. "Its one of the more interesting spots, I think..."

It was probably the fact the room was literally thick with smells of sex, each anthro bathing in each other's pheromones, but Cynthia was excited. She sat up on the sink, swinging a leg back and forth and eyeing up the twins. It had been a while since she'd had either of them, and had only had them both during her initiation all those weeks ago.

Knave and Knox, eyed her right back, recognising the lusty gaze, and they exchanged looks and then both of them grinned devilishly.

"Here then?" Knave asked, stepping up to Cynthia. Cynthia nodded sheepishly.

"You never were a shy one, were you?" Knox cooed, standing up beside her, sliding his fingers up her neck then pulling her into a kiss. Cynthia's eyes closed as she twisted her head, pressing into Knox. Dominant as they were, the twins were considerably more feminine than the others. Caste... Bruce... Dex... they were absolute powerhouses, pulsating with testosterone. They fucked their way and they fucked hard. But every now and again Cynthia longed for a more personal touch, and the twins knew their way around a girl's body.

Knave crouched, sitting on his haunches and he shamelessly pushed Cynthia's thighs apart, exposing her pink slit running down her mound. Knave was a tease, leaning in and kissing her pubis, then running his tongue along the inside of her thighs and just when Cynthia thought he would reach her sweet spot, he whipped his tongue away.

She moaned into Knox's mouth impatiently, muttering into his lips, "Get on with it," in a hungry plead. Knox came to her defence and reached down and swatted his brother's ear. Knave yipped but took the hint; he leaned in and pressed his muzzle right into her sex, his tongue gliding up Cynthia's folds to probe at the nib of her clit.

Cynthia opened her mouth to yell in pleasure, but Knox angled his head down to seal his muzzle against hers, kissing her wildly as their tongues lashed across one another, tasting each other's saliva.

A crowd had formed. Patrons had finished their business or were cooling off from their own activities, and they were eager to enjoy a show. Knox reached up and pressed his palm into Cynthia's breast, massaging her chest, the flat of his fur against her nipple. They really were good with girls. Most males left her chest alone; she was essentially flat but like many girls, she liked a bit of attention there and the twins were more than willing to meet the demand.

She bucked against Knave's muzzle, his tongue curling around her clitoris. She practically wrapped her legs around the back of his head, feeling the familiar electricity sparking down there, the small wave of pleasure building up and ready to crash down... her body became taut, her breath became heavy.

She moaned eagerly... almost... there... Then Knave pulled back, gasping for breath and dragging a wrist across his muzzle to wipe it clean. Cynthia moaned angrily as Knox broke

the kiss.

"Oh, you dick..." she groaned.

"I know..."

"I was almost there!"

"I know!" Knave teased, and he and Knox stood up straight, their canine cocks at full

mast and twitching in excitement. Knave leaned into Cynthia, "If you want to cum, you have to earn it," and he plucked Cynthia off the sink and set her on her knees.

"Go on then," teased Knox. Cynthia felt that blissful wave receding quickly and tried to quell the urge to bite down hard on both of them to punish them for their games. With a half- hearted huff, she leaned up and took both of them in each paw and then put her lips around Knox's tip. Knave would have to wait...

Knox sighed shakily as Cynthia sucked, taking about half the cock and getting it slick with saliva. As she drew on the sweet flesh, she twisted her muzzle from side to side, creating a nice suck-and-jerk motion. Meanwhile she ran her paw the full length of Knave's cock, stroking it and feeling it swell and throb against her fingers, the tip dripping precum onto her shoulder and chest.

"Share the love, Cynth," teased Knox as he unholstered his dick from Cynthia's muzzle and pushed her head towards his brother. Cynthia swallowed him up without delay, taking him all the way to the knot and feeling that hot dripping tip probe the back of her throat. She shut her eyes and tried not to gag, pulling back then sliding down the length of fox meat. With her free paw, she cupped Knave's balls, massaging them in her palm and feeling the heat radiating off those fuzzy orbs.

She swapped between the two boys for a few minutes, suckling hard or deepthroating them, her "grk!"s and "gluck!"s filling the room as almost everyone gathered around to watch the

show. A few boys tried to whip them out and join in the fun but the twins didn't like to share with anyone else and sent them skirting back to the bathroom walls.

"Fuck, I'm close," Knave sighed.

"Same," moaned Knox, as Cynthia now jerked them both off in perfect unison. She opened wide and angled their tips right into muzzle, stroking them off until the muscles in her forearms burned in protest.

The foxes yelled out as they came, each cock shooting a load into Cynthia's waiting maw but coating a few lines of cum across her muzzle and face as their aim went wild. She shut an eye as cum dripped down into her eyelid and giggled, nuzzling the already deflating cocks against her cheeks. "Ready for round two?"

But she knew they would be; the boys didn't have size but they had stamina and within a minute, Knave was on his back on the bathroom tile as Cynthia sank down on top of his spear of flesh, ready to ride him. Knox came up behind, using a cum-soaked finger to lube up Cynthia's tail hole, pressing into the little ring of flesh and massaging it, lubricating it with his own orgasm.

"G-go easy," Cynthia warned, but it helped that Knox had a canine cock. He easily fit the pointed tip inside her ass and gradually eased forward, slipping himself inside her anal cavity. Cynthia had to struggle to keep her balance, holding her weight up on Knave's chest as he bucked inside her. But soon Knox was buried knot deep into her little asshole, stretching it around his modest member as he worked into his own rhythm.

They were quite skilled at double-penetration. As one pulled out the other shoved in so Cynthia was constantly overwhelmed with the feeling of fullness and intrusion. She lost her balance and flattened herself on Knave's chest but it made little difference as the brothers fucked her, working their cocks in and out to the enthusiastic cheers from the other bathroom patrons.

"Eager little slut aren't you," teased Knave as he and Cynthia panted face to face.

"Kinky little fox," she teased right back, groaning as two sets of balls battered against her behind. "I'm getting close... and you better not pull out or I'll k-kill you." Saliva dripped from her hanging tongue as her orgasm rose to crescendo, all the more powerful this time. The feeling of those twitching cocks, the gasps and moans, the beating of their hearts, the eyes of all those strangers... it was just... too... GOOD!

Cynthia gave a little screech as she shut her eyes and came. In the back of her mind, she felt the other two finish inside her, pumping her pussy and tailhole full of a second wave of cum. There was so much of it, seeping into her fur on her face, still tingling on her tongue, filling her bowels and insides... another stab of pleasure wormed its way inside and she groaned in ecstasy, almost ready to pass out.

After she had cleaned herself up in the sink, Cynthia left the restroom to sound of applause and pleads for more but she was eager to get another drink into her, not another cock. It was all just a bit much, maybe even too much. The second she had finished, there hadn't even been time to bask in the afterglow of sex. The twins were shunted aside so a perky little femboy could ride his daddy bull and openly offer hand-jobs. The three of them exited the restroom together, the twins going off to play another game of cards, while Cynthia went back to Cody. Her sweet spot between her legs ached as she walked and she really wanted to sit down, even at the risk of leaking cum all over the seat. She just managed to make it back to Cody, before her legs gave up.

"And where've you been?"

"Enjoying the twins..."

Cody choked on his beer and burst out laughing. "Oh god... when we met outside

that liquor store, not once would I have ever believed you'd end up getting screwed in the Haven's Edge restroom." They started giggling like schoolgirls, going back to comparing lewd acts and trying to outdo the other, even as Rita came over to freshen their drinks.

pup.

"Oh Rita! Would you do Rita?" Cody shouted, slurring his words slightly.

Cynthia just grinned, but the mare leaned over the bar, almost nose to nose with the

"Oh, she couldn't handle me," teased Rita, and Cynthia just blinked and blushed heavily, then all three of them started laughing.

"Rita, are these two behaving?" said a burly Cajun voice and Caste sauntered up to the bar with Manes and they both leaned over and kissed Rita on the cheek as Cody had done. It seemed it was a tradition.

"You ol' voodoo hoodoo you, oh I think I can handle them both."

"So whatchoo think, precious pup?" Caste said, throwing an arm over Cynthia and looking around.

"It's amazing. I don't think I ever wanna leave!"

The gator burst out laughing and squeezed her shoulder, "Good girl! We'll make a biker out of you yet." Cynthia wagged her little tail and settled against the stool, feeling her swollen sex throb against the leather. Goddamn it Knox was a surprisingly hard fuck... or had that been Knave... one of them would have to wear a bell next time.

Suddenly Cynthia spotted something out of the corner of her eye. It had briefly snagged her attention, but she couldn't see what. She searched the crowd and spotted Kane, who was chatting to a few bikers in bright red leather jackets, the Hollywood Helions. What was it that caught her attention - there!

That horse.

The clydesdale was leaning against the far wall, staring at Kane with a look that Cynthia had seen so many times last year at school. Her fair-weather friend, Zoe the vixen had given Cynthia that look if she had so much as smiled at one of Zoe's current boyfriends. But that look was so much more terrifying on a fully grown male's face. The horse looked like he was about to kill Kane.

Cynthia tugged on Caste's jacket, and pointed. "Who's that, and what gang does he belong to?"

It took a moment for Caste to follow her finger and spot the horse. Cynthia was prepared for another cajun chuckle, and an interesting snippet of biker culture; but Caste suddenly sprung up from his seat, stiff as a board, a cold anger spreading under his scales. "That's Elias."

Manes the pitbull, coughed into his beer glass and wheeled around, looking at Caste and then following the gator's gaze until he too noticed the horse, Elias. Nikki had come over from one end of the bar, also having spotted the horse and she set her drink down and folded her arms. Her friendly easy-going demeanour had disappeared.

"Oh fuckin' cock it," spat Manes and he and Caste groaned in unison, and before Cynthia could ask another question, they headed over towards Kane. Cynthia watched as they spoke to their leader, who looked over to the horse. Something had changed, a tension had risen in the room that only Cynthia and the Black Dawn gang had noticed. She could even pick her fellow members out of the crowd now. Up by the stage, Miles had joined the band, plucking away at a guitar but was only half paying attention to his notes, watching as Kane and the others marched over to the horse and engage him in conversation. Bruce the bear, and Knox and Knave had abandoned their card game and were suspiciously watching from the corner of the room.

"That's Elias, of the Iron Rogues," Nikki muttered to Cynthia. "He and Kane despise each other."

"Why?" asked Cynthia.

"Something to do with a fight that happened way back. Only Caste knows what happened. The last time Elias ran into Kane, they almost killed each other." The lioness had never been so serious with anything and it scared Cynthia.

"Rita, baby," Nikki waved the barkeeper over.

"You're the only one who can get away with calling me that gorgeous-"

"What are the Iron Rogues doing here? I thought they were banned."

Rita seemed taken aback at Nikki's cold matter-of-factness, but followed her line of

sight and noticed Kane and Elias talking with one another.

"Ban ended five months ago, they haven't been causing any trouble."

"Well, Elias might try to start something Rita, be prepared-"

"Listen to me little lion! If I see so much as a smack, both of your gangs will never set

foot in here again. God knows I don't need another endorsement on my license." Rita then marched away to tend to other customers.

"Think there'll be drama?" asked Cody, but Nikki shook her head.

"Kane's got this... and we've got his back. The gang's family."

"I don't think he wants me in the gang," sighed Cynthia, 'he's barely said a word to me

all this time."

"He's quiet," said Nikki. "If he didn't want you, you'd really know it..." but she wasn't

really committed to comforting Cynthia's anxiety. She was watching the conversation across the bar.

But there was no cause for alarm. Whatever had been said, had been enough. Elias seemed to raise his hands in surrender and then walked away, leaving through the main doors. Kane and Manes disappeared into the crowd as Caste came back over.

"All good?" asked Nikki.

"I guess," said the grumpy gator, "he's alone, and I don't like it. He just "came in for a drink" apparently."

"Did he say where his gang is?"

"Nope, but Kane and Manes have gone to speak to a few people, see if they can put feelers out and figure what it is Elias is doin' here."

"Maybe he just came for that drink?" Cynthia suggested, but the others immediately shrugged her off. Caste downed another pint of beer and huffed.

"Elias wants Kane dead. If he really wanted a drink, he'd make sure he was at least one state over. God my blood's pumping," the gator growled, smacking fist into his paw.

"You boys and your fights," Nikki groaned, turning on her stool and picking up her drink again, now that the drama seemed to be over. "You men either need to fight or fuck."

"Yup," Caste said, stepping right up to Cynthia. "You up for it, little pup?"

Cynthia was still a bit taken aback with all the tension, but she was happy to find herself back on familiar ground. And though the twins had been fun, Caste was something else... "Where to?"

"Table..."

"Uh, table?"

But Caste already slipped his massive hand around her little wrist, guiding her towards

the end of one of the long tables. Cynthia had seen a few girls messing around there earlier and realised it was probably a 'sex spot' or something. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Well, this was kinda new... yes, the bathroom hadn't exactly been private, but she had never messed around in such an open and occupied space. She probably would have declined a stranger, or even someone else in the gang, but Caste knew exactly how to push her buttons.

She felt her foot-paws leave the floor as Caste lifted her and propped her down on all fours, right on the hardwood. She waited for the cat-calls and shouts of approval, for the men to gather around for the act and the girls to watch jealously, but nothing changed. Not even as Caste stepped up behind her. In fact, Cynthia had been planted directly in front another couple seated at the table, a Dalmatian with her back to Cynthia as she rode her dominant, a thick necked bulldog with her meaty paws wrapped around her waist. And for the first time, Cynthia noted the smell of musk hanging in the air... had it always been this strong?

She looked over her shoulder at the massive gator stroking his hardening length. Caste was swaying on his feet, fuelled by alcohol and lust. And maybe that was the problem, maybe a couple of Cosmos wouldn't cut it. Quickly she scanned the table and snatched up an almost empty pint glass, tossing it back and swallowing the load in one full gulp. For a girl her size, it should push her a bit closer to the edge...

Her mind fuzzed up, her vision went all blurry; it was like sinking below the depths of a warm, welcoming body of water. She felt like she was floating, like a weight lifted off her. And then she felt Caste's thick hands on her waist as he clumsily stabbed at her backside with his member. Huff, so much for button pushing. It was a bit awkward, getting jabbed by a cock that had gotten lost, but she didn't mind so much any more now that her head had gone all fuzzy. She arched her back, reaching behind her to grab the tip of his cock and angle it right back her swollen slit. She was still slick inside, but she was almost too tight to take him.

The gator growled in impatience and pushed forward without grace, sinking his girth inside the Labrador-doberman pup as she yelped in pain. But her tight pussy was malleable and she willed it to take his cock, breathing deeply but feeling dizzy with the scent of musk and the drink coursing through her system. Caste reached forward, pressing down on her back to pin her chest down into the table, grunting in effort.

"You okay, darling?" Caste asked and Cynthia moaned back in response. She was alright, and somewhat enjoying it... it had been a while since she had done doggy-style. Caste grinned and doubled his efforts. It wasn't like his usual performance, when they were at camp in his tent and he took his time with intricacy. This seemed like a race to the finish line, and not even a sprint but more a stumble. He was a bit all over the place, thrusting in varying rhythms, and he couldn't seem to decide how to get on with it. At one point he curled his fingers back into Cynthia's mouth, and she got a little excited; the little teen then suckled greedily on his digits, moaning happily as he rocked his hips and sank his cock deep into her, fucking her slick pussy hard. But then he changed up, just as Cynthia got into it. He gripped her by the hips and just

when she started bucking in sync with his movements, he changed up again and gripped her tail by the base, with his other paw grasping a half empty pint glass.

Cynthia arched her back again, pressing her little body back against his cock as he took her, sinking her tight and stretched hole back all the way down his length. It was almost too much to take, and she felt her belly tighten and strain as the cock squeezed up inside her. She could feel every twitch, even his heart throbbing through his cock and feeling it deep inside her stomach.

"Oh shit, I'm gonna... I'm gonna..." Caste came quickly, pumping Cynthia's pussy full of gator seed, pressing himself into her backside. Cynthia felt her insides squirm and clench in discomfort. No tingling, no electricity or waves of blissful pleasure, just tight discomfort and sweat and soreness. As he pulled out, his length slick with his cum and Cynthia's juices, he popped out of her slit. It was so swollen, cum could barely drip out of the folds. Cynthia flattened herself on the table, sighing with relief. It had been fun, but the thrill of being watched was long gone, because well... she wasn't being watched. The Dalmatian was still riding only feet away, and Cynthia had to admit that she didn't really care. And if she wasn't interest in some hot little pup riding a bulldog, then why would people be interested in her? Cynthia suddenly felt like the television set tuned to some boring football game in a bar; people saw the TV, but they didn't really care enough to give it their full attention.

And though she hadn't cum, her could hardly stand up; she was just too tired. She managed to pull herself into a slumped sitting position and was surprised to see Caste watching her with a little blush in his cheeks.

"Not really me at my best, darling... sorry about that." Cynthia smiled politely, "It's okay honey."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, you're just having a bit too much fun."

The gator sighed and hefted himself up off the bench, "Sometimes I think Haven's Edge is just, maybe, a bit too much of a good thing." Cynthia just shrugged in response. Then Caste looked around for the others, spotting most of the gang squeezed into a booth over by the stage.

"Come on," said Caste, and picked up Cynthia and carried her across to the bar. A few seedy looking bikers eyed her up, disappointed that she wasn't being left on the table and up

for grabs.

Caste had to practically drop Cynthia into the booth. Her legs were just too weak.

Manes, Bruce, Nikki and Royce were hanging around, chatting and sipping drinks and seemed to be... wiggling? They couldn't sit still, as if every few moments a spasm coursed through their bodies... then Cynthia noticed a crop of hair bobbing underneath the table, between Royce's knees.

"You gonna join them?" Caste laughed. "Doubt you'll have to use your legs..." Cynthia blushed, her little body wracked and still taut from the sex, her muscles aching and though she wasn't buzzing with as much excitement anyone, she was eager to see what was going on below, so she slid off the leather seats and under the booth's table. Jenny the wolfess, Kara the doe and Cody the fox were kneeling at the foot-paws of their dominants, burying their muzzles between their masters' thighs and feasting on their flesh with eager hunger. Kara noticed the new arrival (it was hard not to, they were all bunched on top of one another), and slid Bruce's dick out of her muzzle.

"H-here," she whispered, guiding Cynthia towards it as she swapped over to bury her face in Nikki's mound. "Take care of him for me," and she giggled, moving just enough so that Cynthia could squeeze between her and Jenny, who had wrapped her lips around Manes' unsheathed spear of canine flesh. Cynthia had to resist the urge to mutter "here we go again." Maybe Caste was right, maybe Haven's Edge was too much of a good thing.

Bruce's cock was already slick with Kara's spittle. The doe had a flair for oral, almost taking the full length down her throat and Cynthia felt she had to match it. She slipped her fingers around the base of Bruce's cock and slipped her muzzle down around the tip, sucking softly. A grunt of approval came from the bear as Cynthia swallowed him up, her tongue lashing across his glands as she drew on his fat round cock head. With her other paw she cupped his balls, lifting their hefty weight in her paw. On her left, Kara sucked on Nikki's clit, tugging on it with her lips and then sliding the flat of her tongue down into Nikki's sex, to taste the alpha girl's pleasure. On Cynthia's right, Jenny gagged on Mane's canine cock, beating her lips down on the male's knot, almost swallowing it as if it was some fleshy ball-gag. Then she pulled back with a "Grk!" and gasped, panting heavily.

Cynthia slid Bruce's cock out of her muzzle and swapped over to Mane's, stroking Bruce as she dragged her tongue along the pitbull's length; Jenny grinned and copied her, both girls running their wet, slick tongues up and down the sides of his cock, hearing the dog's breathing quicken. They moaned into the flesh, kissing the hard, thin skin.

"Mine," Jenny teased, snatching back the cock and sliding it back her throat so she could enjoy the meal that about to come... and Cynthia could tell that Bruce was close too, he was throbbing so fast in her paw that he must have been ready to blow, and as tired as she was, Cynthia could never refuse a good swallowing. She kept stroking, sliding just the tip into her mouth and drawing on it, the smell of his musk mixed with saliva dizzying her, making her eyes water and her nostrils sting. The cock was so swollen she could feel the veins pulsing through the surface. And then... he came.

Cynthia took his whole load, two thick squirts filling her muzzle as she made every effort not to choke or splutter, and then she swallowed in one big gulp, tasting the bleach-fruity flavour on her tongue that stuck in her mouth. She sucked softly for another minute to make sure it was cleaned properly, then she broke away with a gasp, her back resting against the booth's table leg. The other's were finishing up too, each dominant exploding in their mouths, each submissive swallowing obediently, panting hungrily, suckling for more... and it was all just too much.

Cynthia let the warmness envelop her, little a big fluffy blanket in winter. She felt her head dipping and her chin tucked into her chest, she was just so tired... so ready to sleep... and then she let the darkness take her.

When she woke up, she could barely move. Every joint ached, her jaw was on fire, her sex practically swollen shut. Cynthia had been used again and again, and it reminded her of her initiation, but somewhat less exciting. Sex at Haven's Edge was just too common, like shaking paws. It was supposed to be intimate and out of sight, a dirty little secret wrapped up in excitement and when the act became public, every eye should have been drawn. Cynthia tried to sit up, noting that she was curled up between Jenny and Cody, who were also weary with exhaustion.

As her eyes fluttered open, she realised that Bruce the bear was draped across the whole table, snoozing loudly. Kane was in the far end of the booth, his eyes shut but still his body was rigid and alert, so Cynthia wondered if he was sleeping at all.

"C'mon you moron," came a tired voice and Royce appeared, gripping Bruce by the lapels of his jacket and heaving him up off the table. Cody stirred and when Royce called for him, he slid out of the both, clutching his head.

"Too... much..." he moaned, and considering he'd fallen asleep in front of twelve empty eight-ball glasses, Cynthia didn't need any more clarification. Once Bruce was on his feet, he reached down and hoisted Jenny out of the booth, who just lolled her head on her shoulders, completely limp. Cynthia then noticed just how quiet it was.

The lights were lower, the music completely off and people were either leaving, or settling in to sleep under a table or in a booth. The alcohol was locked away, the sex and games had fizzled out to be replaced by deep unflattering snores and the occasional breaking of wind or hacking cough.

Cynthia grimaced, feeling disillusioned.

Once the excitement and glamour had slipped away, it reminded her of a homeless shelter, albeit a nicely decorated and clean shelter. And though she loved receiving attention from handsome, strapping bikers, a lot of these snoozing guys and girls were harrowed looking old men and women, bored and tired.

"It's not all fun and games, eh?" said the Rottweiler, his deep resounding voice snapping Cynthia back into reality. She blushed when she realised this was the first time they had been together, just the two of them.

"Uh, I guess."

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

Cynthia hesitated, the shrugged her little shoulders, but she was so tired, even that

was an effort. "There's too much sex going on sometimes... it's uh..." "Oversaturated?"

Cynthia nodded, not exactly understanding the word but she felt like that was a good way to describe it.

"There's a few gangs in here that don't set up camp, some of them are hiding out from the law, others are just people that don't want to leave the fantasy of the bar." Kane looked across the bar, taking in the scene. "But that's all it is, a fantasy that people keep chasing-"

"Why don't you like me?"

Cynthia had blurted out the question without meaning to. In her head, it had sounded casually playful, like banter. But it had come out like a whiny little pup who couldn't stomach the idea that she wasn't popular, and Kane raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, at the initiation you didn't... you know, and um... I don't um, it's just you're so quiet-I... ugh, never mind."

Cynthia made to get out of the booth, but Kane started chuckling.

"I don't know where you think you're going. The gang's gone back to camp, Bruce and Royce were the last stragglers."

"Seriously?"

"Yup, I'm your ride home, little lady."

Cynthia felt an electric tingle up her back. She'd been hit on by a billion boys, messed

around with countless others and taken more cock than anyone she'd known... except maybe Cody. But this burly alpha's voice penetrated her in ways that felt strange but comfortable. She felt excited that she held his attention, that his gaze and mind were focused on her and her alone. It was a rush, a rush more powerful than the whole evening put together!

"I like everyone in the gang. Even Sid," he said, and Cynthia gave a quiet giggle. "But I'm not looking for mates, or for partners, and I don't even put out anymore."

"But why?"

Kane hesitated and looked away. Cynthia thought about dropping the conversation, but Kane seemed to fall on a decision; "That horse at the bar, that was Elias."

"The Iron Rogues, Caste told me."

"When we were growing up, starting our own gangs, we got on fine. We'd meet up in the summers, here in the bar. But soon this..." (he struggled to find the word) "...crack came between us. He was just louder and lewder, did things a different way. We stopped meeting up, things grew bitter... and then one year, he challenged me to a race."

"Like in Rebel Without a Cause?"

"You know that movie?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, exactly like that... we raced out on I-89 for twenty miles." "And he hates you because you won?"

"Neither of us did." Kane sighed, his chest heaving as if he was removing a weight that had been pressing down on his body. Cynthia's head had stopped swimming, her sole focus was on the dog across from her.

"It was tradition to ride with your girl. Mine was Riley, a little Rottweiler that I'd found on the streets. She was a great girl, loyal as fuck and loving to boot. I never even knew the girl Elias was riding with. But they were there for moral support, to show themselves off..."

"Towards the end of the last mile, I was in the lead. We were going so fast... Riley shouted at me to slow down, begged me even. And that had really thrown me off, she'd never said anything like that before, so I slowed it down... and I didn't realise Elias had been right on my tail... the bikes collided."

Cynthia threw her paws to her mouth.

"We crashed and when I woke up I was in the hospital with Caste. When he said that Riley had never woken up, I lashed out at him, beating the side of his face... and he let me do it

too."

"It wasn't your fault," Cynthia whispered, drawn in by the sheer heaviness of the story. She had never seen Kane look so deflated. Her sheer exhaustion, coupled with his sadness had her eyes swimming with tears and when Kane met her gaze, she felt a tear drop flow through the fur of her cheek.

"Course it was, I was young and stupid and proud and my girl died because of it." "And Elias?"

"He found me outside as we left the hospital. Blamed me for the crash, said it was a

trick to try and win. And the funny this was, his girl was alive... but she wasn't okay. She became an addict to her meds, became violent... she was shot down trying to hold up a pharmacy a few

years ago."

"It's his fault for coming behind you. To knock you off."

"Yeah, well try telling him that!" Kane snapped suddenly, his quiet demeanour breaking for the first time since Cynthia had met him. She sunk a little lower into the booth and Kane sighed apologetically, looking embarrassed.

"We're both to blame. For trying to race one another like idiots. This life is just... so stupid sometimes."

"So you're punishing yourself?"

"I've just, never really wanted to be close anyone else, really..."

Cynthia reached out and took his massive, meaty paw and gave it a squeeze. Kane

glanced down and gave a pretty nonchalant smirk of gratitude. They sat there in the booth for a while, enjoying each other's company, sitting there in comfortable silence. Cynthia had no idea how much time had passed, before Rita came over and said they were locking up for the night.

"We'll get out of here, gorgeous. I've a tent with my name on it," said Kane, standing up and stretching out the kinks in his back.

"So how was your first night here?" Rita asked.

"It was... a lot," Cynthia admitted, standing up on shaky legs as she struggled to get her aching, tired body to work. "But still the best party I've ever been to!" Rita grinned in appreciation and then bade them goodnight as they left through the atrium, where one of the rhino bouncers was sleeping against the wall.

Then as Kane pushed up the front door to bathe them in cold night air, Cynthia shivered, pulling her leather jacket tighter around her lithe frame. Kane draped his arm over her, having to stoop just a little because of their height difference.

"Let's get outta here." And they both headed off for Kane's motorcycle, walking together.

(To be continued...)