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"One black with whip and one Pumpkin spice latte with a shot of espresso," Connie ordered, barely glancing up from her phone. Vicky had sent her the newest set of lyrics to work with, along with concepts and ideas on how the song should sound. First one was rubbish, the same song she'd sent her before that they both knew wouldn't make the cut. Part of the hyena's whole process was working on a garbage song first to get the kinks out.

And that girl had a lot of kinks to work out.

Still, she had heart, and that's more than she could say for other bands she and Conner spent time in. Some too focused on how to make their big score, with others being too prudish for the twins and their ideas. One group was too thin-skinned to even associate with Conner cause he preferred wearing a skirt, insisting that he call it a kilt.

Receipt in hand, the rat took a seat against one of the comfy cushions of the indy coffee shop and mentally played out the bars she had in mind. Vicky wanted an intense song, high-speed murder on her fingers sort of intensity. Connie strummed her fingers through the air, closing her eyes to imagine each little song to fit along with it.

A timid little voice broke through the hustle of the morning rush, "E-Excuse me, are you Conner Smith?"

Opening one eye, she noted a siamese cat in a baggy black hoody and cargo pants, hands deep in the front pocket, and carrying a hopeful but worried smile. She sighed, "That'd be my brother." Connie said as politely as her morning headache could allow. The rat wasn't accustomed to fans, and she had a feeling she never would be.

"O-oh...I'm so sorry, it's just-"

"I look like him, right?" Connie's accent flared with each word, "Yeah, tends to be the nature of being twins and all that. Though a little secret for ya, if you seein' me wearing a skirt, it's my brother. If you seein my brother wearing a suit or jeans," She passed her hand over the leather jacket and men's jeans she wore, "it's me."

His -or at least Connie assumed it was a he, she couldn't rightfully tell- smile grew at her explanation. "So...you two crossdress normally?"

"Oh, here we go," Connie rolled her eyes, "I ain't crossdressing. I'm just wearing clothes I like. Conner's the only one that makes a point that he's wearing lady clothes, and even then it's to call people out for trying to gender things. Trust me, he'd be wearin' skirts even if it weren't coded. He loves the wind between his legs."

"Oh...," He blushed, "s-sorry I didn't mean to bother you."

She shrugged, "Eh, it's early and ya made an honest mistake. Ya got a message I can send along to my brother?"

His eyes shifted back and forth, "Well...actually I'm a fan of you both, and if it's not too much trouble," He pulled out a smartphone stuck in a thick black protective case, "Can I maybe get a picture? I'd do anything for one. Like, literally anything."

"Get on ya knees and kiss my feet."

Putting her foot out, wiggling her digits in the opened toed shoe, Connie snuck a peak from her phone for just a second. That's all it took to see the shock and confusion across the cat's face. Kiss her feet? In public no less? No one could do that for someone they just met. Maybe for an A-list celebrity and a big lack of dignity on both ends, but not for some up and coming rockstar. That's why she did it of course, to get the little pissant to leave her alone. The fame and the fans that followed were the least interesting thing to the rat. She just wanted to play music and be herself. Was she selfish? Sure, but everyone in the band had some goal. Drummer wanted to use it as a platform for Herm rights, Vicky liked the attention, and Conner...well Conner just wanted to piss people off.

Warm lips pressed against her big toe. She looked past her phone, finding the cat on his knees with his eyes closed, softly kissing her foot. His face was as red as a tomato, and after looking around the cafe to see the myriad of eyes looking at them, she felt her cheeks burn. "Well, I'll be damned." She said, cradling her foot under his chin, "What's your name?"

"Andre...," He stopped, averting his gaze and taking a deep but shaky breath, "Andrew."

"Well, Andrew...how would you like more than just a little picture?"

His eyes grew wide, letting Connie get lost in those pretty blue pearls. She smiled, standing up as her order was called and leaning to his ear to whisper, "Follow me, if ya dare, fanboy." Whipping her tail back and forth, she sauntered over and grabbed her drinks. Andrew was close behind, eyes to the floor and hands in his front pocket. Filled with the fresh aroma of coffee, she stepped out to the lot with him following like she had him by an invisible leash.

Connie might as well have.

***

She offered him a quick ride in the van. Turns out both had a free day, so she could have the liberty of picking a nice secluded spot to park. He sat beside her in the passenger seat, twiddling his thumbs while Connie tried to not burn her tongue on the bitter black coffee. Every red light she peered down to his crotch, only to find no hint at an erection despite his flushed face. Was he just embarrassed? No, she'd seen enough timid guys get flustered to note the signs.

"So, why'd ya do it?" She asked.

"Uh...what?"

"We were in public. Eyes all around. I didn't even mean it seriously, but ya kissed my foot. Color me curious, but you surprised me with that courage."

"Courage?" He asked, eyebrow raised, "No, no...I'm not brave. It just...well I'm pathetic enough as is."

Either he really felt that way, or he had a humiliation fetish. The lack of crotch tent made it difficult to find out. "I wouldn't say that. Someone told you how to get somethin, and you took it. And now you're gettin' a greater reward. 'Course, I'm gonna have some insurance just in case."

"I-insurance?" He asked with a small shiver.

Finding a spot in a packed parking garage bar of any life, the rat nodded and pulled out her phone, "If you want any of this," She grabbed her crotch tight, "Then you're gonna strip naked and pose for me. So if I see any embarrassing pictures of me on the net later, these will come out. Still interested, Andy?"

One cute little fidgeting nod was all Connie really needed. Watching him crawl into the back seat and strip away his clothes was itself a bonus. Just a few quick pics and she'd have a wide enough safety net to ensure no pics got exposed. Last thing she needed was to show up on TMZ or some shitty news site.

But the more Andrew stripped, the more curious she became. Underneath those baggy clothes, he was rather lithe. Most cats were, but something about his body seemed...off. His chest wasn't flat, carrying small mounds strapped down by enough medical tape to make her own chest feel tight. With his pants off, her suspicions were answered.

Andrew had no dick. Just a nice little pussy.

"You're ah..." She paused, seeing the despair growing in the cat's eyes.

"Y-you can say it," He muttered, "It doesn't matter. I'm so used to being called out that I don't think I have any shame left." Each word quivered at the edge of tears. Biting her lip, Connie regretted her previous words. She was a bitch, but she wasn't that much of a bitch.

"Flex for me." She ordered. Andrew blinked then tilted his head. Connie bent her own arm to show her meager muscle, "Flex for me. Ya know, like you're a pro lifter. Show me your stuff."

He followed her example awkwardly, looking either unused to the position or unused to the request. She snapped the picture, "That's good, now flex em together. Show me those strong arms." Andrew switched positions, flexing each arm then both as the camera flashed inside the dark van. He didn't smile, carrying a confused and guilty expression throughout each pose. "There we go." She said, stopping at the tenth or so click, "I think that's good enough insurance for a guy like-"

"Why are you calling me that?" He asked, hugging his chest, "Y-you know I don't have a cock, right?"

"Who said a cock made you a man?" She said, squeezing past the front seats and taking off her pants, "Listen here, Andrew. You said you were pathetic, but part of me thinks you're afraid of being yourself. Despite that, you're going by that name, and you did what I asked."

"B-because I have no shame."

"No, because you wanted something and did what it takes to get it." She said, leaning back and spreading her legs, "Now, I gotta ask, you into cunt?"

"Y-yeah," He nodded, "I thought I was just gay before...well you know."

Connie smiled, "Good. Then dig in, sir. Ya earned it."

With a face as red as a tomato, Andrew crawled down to his hands and knees and brought his timid tongue against her folds. She grabbed his headfur, locking him down so his rough tongue scratched all the right nerves. "That's a good boy," She whispered between moans, "Dig into my vermin cunt. Real men know how to eat a sheila out." And Andrew knew what he was doing. The scaredy cat's tongue starting out slow and sensually rubbing her out. He broke away, kissing up and down her thighs while massaging her clit, only to end with that warm wet appendage against it.

"Ya...ya certainly...fucking...fuck..." She stuttered. Connie hadn't been eaten out like this in a long time. Andrew was miles ahead better than a certain someone she knew. Bastard could probably take a lesson or two from him. Grabbing his headfur, she called out, "S-stop." And tried to pull him off.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, his facial fur around the chin matted wet.

"Yeah, I almost got off."

He blinked, "Did...did you not want me to eat you out?"

"Just..." She leaned backwards, reaching for the glove compartment. "Just shut up and hold it. Looking for something...where the hell is...Ah ha! There ya are." Connie smiled, pulling out a strap-on from the front seat. "Don't worry, I got lube."

"I don't..." His ears fell, eyes darting away from her, "I don't like to use my-"

"Oh it's not for you, fanboy." She said, tossing the toy over to him, "It's for me. Ya know how to fuck?" Andrew shook his head. Connie turned her ass to him and gave it a swift smack, "Well, today's the day ya learn. Best get practice in before you get your own, right?"

Andrew's blush gave his dark facial fur a bright flush. His fingers couldn't stay still, needing her help to lock the strap-on around his waist. He looked at the fake cock for a minute, a small wavering smile crossing his lips. "Hey," She snapped her fingers, "It's rude to keep a girl waiting."

Lubed up, he rubbed the tip against her cunt. Connie knew he was trying to get the right angle, but it only served to tease her. "Trust me, Andy. I've taken that toy before. I know you caN-FUCK!" she shouted. He pushed it straight into her, as deep as the toy allowed.

"S-sorry!" He shouted, "I've never really done this. I'll pull out and-"

She reached around to grab his hand, keeping him steady. "Don't you fucking dare." The rat growled, panting slowly as she got used to the sudden push, "You're gonna fuck me, and I'll tell ya when to stop. Got it?" She didn't turn to see his face, but Connie had a feeling he was nodding along. Andrew pushed back and forth slowly, getting a rhythm and holding onto her ass. Laying against the middle armrest, Connie braced her arms against the seats, gritting her teeth at the building pleasure.

He thrusted harder. The van started shaking, windows fogging with their breath. "That's it." She gasped out, "Keep it up, fanboy. Show me how much you want this pussy." Andrew's glaws stabbed into her ass, the pain mixing delightfully with her growing delectation. So close, just a few more thrusts until...Her orgasm came with a long winded moan. Her body shuddered as pleasure rippled through from her crotch, reaching to her curling toes and her hanging head.

Andrew didn't pause, continuing the fuck her through orgasm until she called him out to stop. "S-sorry," He stammered, pulling out quickly, "I didn't mean to hurt or-"

Connie laughed, slumping down to the van's floor and looking up with a smug smirk, "Hurt? Did you think that was a scream of pain?" The rat shook her head, "If it hurt, I'd tell ya. Besides, sometimes I like a little pain in my play. Maybe I can introduce you to the idea some time?"

"I'd...I'd like that...if you'll have me?"

"Andy, Andy," Connie said, rolling her eyes, "I brought you out of the blue to fuck me in my van. And you're a decent lay all things considered. So we're gonna exchange numbers after this, if ya don't mind being a booty call." She curled a finger up to him, "Now take off ya cock and let me eat ya out. Wouldn't be fair if I was the only one cumming this morning."

Andrew wasted no time in struggling his pussy over her lips. With both hands holding his ass in place, she slipped a finger against his pucker while pressing her mouth against his clit. Pushing into his ass, the rat prodded deep while sucking off his small clitty as a micro cock. His moans were music to her ears, and she played him like a well tuned instrument. Every little gasp was just another smidge of pride for the punk rat. Too bad no one was around to keep score, but practice was practice.

The cat was a squirter. Holding her scalp for dear life, Andrew's legs shook and almost buckled as he came, drenching the rat's maw in his juices. Connie helped him down, letting her fan collapse in her arms, panting with their chest pounding into her.

"Hey," Connie said, reaching for the cat's phone, "What's ya password? It's time for that selfie."

***

After a few naked aftersex selfies, Connie posed with Andrew for a couple PG shots before separating. She made sure to get his number, but didn't share hers right away. He got it after the first text. While she did like him, the rat had no interest in trying to set up dates and made it clear. Friends with benefits, another to add to her personal modern harem.

She could invite him for Thanksgiving. Make it an orgy.

The coffee was cold by now, and given how exy drinks were she wasn't in the mood to get another. Parking by her apartment, she carried the cups past the broken elevator and up the three flights of steps to her apartment. Two swift kicks sufficed for her knock.

"Cark it!" Her brother groaned from behind, "I'm coming. I'm coming. Keep ya shirt on."

"Least I wear proper shirts." She said. Opening the door, Conner proved her right yet again, standing in the doorway with a fishnet top and a pair of boxers. He must have went back to bed after she asked for coffee, otherwise he'd be rocking a plaid skirt by now.

"Shut it, ya dag." He growled, bloodshot eyes looking to her hands, "Which is mine?"

"This one, prissy." She handed the left mug to him, "Pumpkin Spice, with an espresso shot. Just how princess likes em."

One hand took it, the other gave her the middle finger. A single sip was all it took to have him spit it into the nearby sink. "It's fucking cold!"

"Ya, ran into a fan."

"A fan? Thought you hated fans?"

She shrugged, "Eh, he was cute. Might invite him for Thanksgiving. You could learn a thing or two from him."

"I know how to eat pussy, sis."

"But ya can't follow orders."

He grinned, "You love it."

She nodded back, "Means I get to turn your ass red."