FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Written for Joel the Lemur, for winning the 'Dawn of Vengeance' contest held earlier this year.

(Edit - now with a new ending)

A Remote Possibility

Joel Grigori checked his watch, it was almost break time. The ring-tailed lemur saved his work, a fake Vatican passport for one of the Canadian spies at the agency he worked for, and locked up the graphics workstation he used for forging documents. He had an appointment to keep in the abandoned sub-basement cafeteria and he did not want to be late.

Joel had only recently discovered that there was a secret bondage-and-discipline group inside the Foreign Operations eXecutive, or the 'Academy' as the members referred to it. It was, in fact, run by the muscular golden fox that was now the Director, Tancred "Tanner" Williams, codenamed 'Gold', and often referred to as 'Master' by Joel. The only other dominant in the group was the Director's secretary-bodyguard, the busty, curvaceous, party poodle Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche, also known as Miss CC or Mistress. With her tightly curled white fur, black ears and the two black spots on her rump she looked particularly good in a leather corset and heels.

Since Joel did not have much of a social life outside of the agency, so he was able to work flexible hours and take longer breaks. Twice a week he took and extended break in the morning to be with one or the other dominant in the old cafeteria that they had converted into a dungeon of discipline. But he had to be careful, both Master and Mistress, while acting entirely professional outside the Dungeon, had indicated their reluctance to share the submissive lemur. Scheduling was tricky, considering that the Director had to approve Miss CC's absences from the office and Miss CC had to know where the Director was at all times.

Occasionally one of the two would have to cancel, or reschedule, and in order to avoid tipping off the other they would slide plain text notes under Joel's door. But on the mornings of his liaisons, he more often found a note with special instructions for the upcoming session. Today was no exception. When he arrived early in the morning he had found a plain cardboard box on his desk, with a note that simply read "Wear this today."

The box had been opened previously and the flaps folded back together to hold it closed. Although foreign agents occasionally tried to assassinate members of the Academy with bombs or other bobby traps the risk to the agency forger was small, and he had received boxes like this before, so Joel opened it without further ado. He pulled out something that was roughly the same length and diameter as a donkey's cock. It was black, rubberized, heavy, and had a short black wire coming out of its base.

Obviously it was a butt plug of some sort, he supposed, but why was it so heavy? Joel squeezed it and ran his paws over it for clues. There appeared to be metal studs along its length, and a recessed USB connector, covered with a water proof plug. Joel concluded that it was a battery operated anal stimulator and a rechargeable one too. But all the ones he had used before had a paw-held control unit connected to it. This one just had a dangling wire. It reminded him of the antennae on his Wii. What could it be for?

I suppose I'll find out soon enough, he shrugged, and reached into his drawer for the tube of Analglide he kept there for emergencies. He swathed the device with the lubricant and dropped his pants to his ankles. Lifting his tail and reaching behind with both paws, he eased the blunt tip into the puckered hole. It was a big stretch, the head of the plug was not tapered like a canine cock, and he gasped as his ring opened up to accommodate it. Once the tip was in he pushed on the base so that the shaft slid gently in.

Not bad, he thought once it was in. He pulled his pants back up, wiggled his buttocks and took a few experimental steps. Other than having to stand unusually straight and stiff it was quite comfortable. That would probably change when Gold or Miss CC activated whatever it was. The anticipation sent a shiver down his spine.

Joel had forgotten who he was subjecting himself to today. I had better check, he reminded himself. Each had their own little likes and dislikes, and it would not do to make the wrong preparations. Gold, for instance, liked to arrive to find the lemur already stripped and restrained. Miss CC, on the other paw, preferred to humiliate Joel by undressing him herself before tying him down, or up, or across, some painful apparatus.

Joel kept an elaborate timetable on his workstation. His was a stand-alone system with restricted access, since one could print reasonable facsimiles of many of the world's currencies with it. Only a few people in FOX had access to his system, so his personal schedule was safe enough there. He waddled over to the desk and bent awkwardly to enter the command to retrieve the file.

To his chagrin, the file would not open. A little window popped up to tell him that the file was corrupt. Apparently one of the sites he had downloaded from recently, BigBroadBondageBabes.com, was unsafe, and had infected his personal hard drive. Now he would have to get Kain Algorath over to fix it. That would be embarrassing. Well, he thought, at least it was only his private data, and not some of the one-of-a-kind software the Academy had installed on the system. But it still left him with the problem of who to prepare for.

Joel decided to head down to the dungeon and check it out. Gold was very meticulous and usually prepared the frame and laid out the restraints that he wanted Joel to wear before the session. If he had been there everything would be clean and laid out ready for use. Miss CC usually left everything on the shelves and selected whatever fitted her mood at the time, making Joel lick them clean if they were dusty. The state of the equipment would tell him who to expect, and if he got there early he could be ready for whoever showed.

* * * * * * * *

Joel locked up his office and walked down two levels to the seldom used subbasement. He opened the abandoned cafeteria with the key the Director had supplied. Because he was early the room was empty.

It was not a large room. The support wing had been built in the early days of the cold war when FOX had few employees. Back then the support staff was not allowed to socialize with the field agents, and had separate facilities. This room had been set aside for the few forgers, translators, and technicians the Academy employed back then to take their breaks and eat their lunch in. When the new headquarters building was completed in the eighties all such facilities were incorporated, and the room was abandoned.

Someone had tried using it as a gym at one point in time. The tables and vending machines had been removed and a universal gym and weight set had been moved in. But that employee must have lost interest or moved on, because it had not been maintained. All that was left behind was the frame with its cables and pulleys, and the rack where the free weights once rested. But Miss CC and Gold had transformed the dingy room and its apparatus into quite an interesting little dungeon.

Shiny chrome chains with black leather shackles now hung from the renovated universal gym. Deliciously rough hemp ropes lay neatly coiled beside it. The weight rack was festooned with whips, flails, dildos and masks of all descriptions. It even boasted the largest collection of cuffs and shackles in Canada outside of the RCMP museum. That had been Joel's personal contribution to the dungeon.

Joel had been amazed when he first found out about it. He had grown up on the grounds, the adopted child of the Academy translators, and had apprenticed under the former forger. Yet despite his intimate knowledge of the agency and its personnel he had not known of Williams' sexual preferences or of the dungeon two floors below his office despite having similar leanings himself; Joel was famous under a pseudonym on the Internet as one of the leading experts on restraint and roping techniques, under an assumed name of course. Old rules and a lifetime of living in the cloak and dagger world of espionage had kept them unaware of each other until Gold had become Director and rescinded rule 47, the post-war anti-fraternization policy.

Joel looked around. None of the equipment was laid out, but there was another cardboard box on a folding table near the door. He picked it up and read the note attached to it.

"Put this on before I get there." It said.

Another one? Joel wondered, had he or she forgotten that they had already left one in his office? He opened the package, expecting to find another anal unit like the one he was already wearing. Instead, he pulled out a hollow device attached to a leather harness. It too was heavy with rechargeable batteries, and also had a thin black wire dangling from the control pack. Other than that, it looked a lot like a leather jock, or some of the medieval male chastity belts Joel owned.

Following the instruction sheet he found inside the box, Joel dropped his pants and inserted his penis into the opening. There was a bare copper wire inside that had to be inserted, like a urinary catheter, but it was not long enough to enter his bladder. Joel wondered what it was for. The tip of the wire was rounded, the length was pre-lubricated, and Joel had some experience inserting catheters for a technique known as the "Texas Swing", so he was able to get it in with no trouble or pain. One flap of the harness, with a stainless steel loop mounted on it, went up between his legs. The other two went around his hips and slots in their ends went over the loop. A shiny brass padlock went through the loop under his tail to hold it in place. Joel slipped the lock on and snapped it shut.

That's funny, he thought, searching through the box, there was no key. He felt the lock for a release catch. Normally these locks were just for show, they could be opened without the key in case of emergencies. He checked the paperwork. This device was from a mail order house that catered to the really hard-core S&M freaks. The lock was functional, and of good quality, it could have been used to secure the sensitive records in the Academy archives. The device was staying on until whoever put the box there released him. But not only was his penis trapped inside, the device he had shoved up his ass was locked in place too, until the harness was removed.

Joel shrugged, he felt safe enough. Neither his master nor his mistress were likely to get carried away or drop dead of a heart attack while Joel was chained to the rack or suspended from the ceiling. But he still wasn't sure which one he was seeing today. He sat down to wait, ready to beg forgiveness if he was not properly attired, and anticipating the punishment that would follow eagerly.

The door opened at five minutes to ten, and Miss CC stepped in. Joel was a little disappointed, Gold would have punished him for still being clothed. He would have to think of something to do to disappoint her enough to earn a light whipping.

She was wearing a trench coat that shoed just her calves and feet. That was not unusual for this time of year when the air was crisp and cool, nor were the red high-heeled shoes she wore. She always wore heels; she could outrun a cheetah in them. When she removed the coat, however, she revealed that she had nothing on underneath except for a red corset and matching garter belt. The corset started at her waist and ended in half-cups that held her large round breasts up. The nipples, naturally pink, had been rouged and stood out in the cool basement. She had applied rouge to her lips and vagina too, Joel saw. Later, she would make him lick it all off.

He also noted that she had a short black tube in one paw.

"Are you wearing it?" She asked as she sashayed over, her thighs crossing with each step and her short tail swaying languidly behind her. She had that evil toothy grin that poodles do so well on her face.

"Yes Mistress." Joel replied meekly, looking down at the floor until she gave him permission to gaze at her.

"Let's see." She said, raising the paw holding the tube until it was parallel with the floor. From this distance Joel could see that it was some kind of remote control. She pressed a button with her thumb.

Joel jumped a metre and a half straight up as a bolt of lightning shot through his cock. He had been expecting some vibration, maybe some heat, or even a slight tingling, but this was like touching a live wire, with his prick. He was already sweating when he landed heavily on paws and feet.

"Oopsy." Miss CC turned a dial on the surface of the remote counter-clockwise. "I thought I had it on 'lo', it must have been '10'. They should really make these controls clearer. She pressed the button again. Joel only jerked in place this time. "There, that's better. Now, slave ...."

Miss CC got no further. She was interrupted by a sound in the hallway. Fearing to be caught undressed she dashed back to the door and hid behind it just as it started to open into the room.

"Joel, you are still dressed." Tancred Williams' voice boomed out ominously. "Just for that ..." Joel felt another jolt of electricity run through him, from behind this time. It came from the dozens of metal studs the plug inside him had been decorated with. The effect was similar to that of the other device. Joel went up with a scream and fell back to the floor with a whimper.

"Shit, I could have sworn that was on 'lo'. Williams scowled as he fiddled with a black tube he was holding. Joel's body shook as a series of diminishing shocks ran through his large intestine. "Damn instructions are all in Chinese or Swedish or something." He mumbled as Joel lay panting on the floor. "But I guess you got what you deserve for being a naughty lemur didn't you?"

Williams reached behind him to swing the door shut. That's when Miss CC stepped out and confronted him.

"What the 'ell do you think you are doing 'ere?" Her French accent tended to get thicker when she was pissed off. "Your schedule says that you are in a meeting with the Interdepartmental Security and Intelligence Working Group."

"It was cancelled early this morning." The big olden fox bristled. "You said you had an appointment at the beautician's."

"Merde," she said, tossing her long ears and poking her tits up at him, "Do I look like I need a beautician? Hein?" She squeezed her paws into fists and put them on her hips. The action caused her to depress several buttons on the remote all at once. Joel jumped up and started to jerk about the room, much like he did when he was dancing.

"You are going to need a plastic surgeon when I get through with you." Gold threatened, shaking his fist at her. Unfortunately for Joel it was the fist with his remote in it. The lemur bent over backwards until his head was touching the floor and shook like his ass was on fire; it felt like it was.

"Hey guys." Joel gasped in the brief intervals between shocks. "Can we ... put the remotes down ... and settle this like adults?"

They both turned on him and shouted "Shuttup!" simultaneously before going back to their argument. Damn these alpha canines, Joe rued. Why couldn't I have found a bondage bear or a perverted panda to hang out with instead?

The argument continued, with poor Joel running around the two dominants while being shocked, chilled, heated, and vibrated mercilessly. He was afraid that his heart would burst from all the stimulation, but suddenly, he was saved by the bell, literally, as loud insistent ringing filled the dungeon. The argument stopped in mid-insult and paws slapped pagers and brought them up to eye level to see what the emergency was.

Where had she been hiding that? Joel wondered as Miss CC cried "Merde" and raced for her trench coat. Williams swore also as he acknowledged the page and turned for the door.

"Hey! Wait! I'm ... sortta locked into .... Damn." It was too late. Joel was alone in the sub-basement as the sound of two pairs of running feet faded away.

* * * * * * * *

"He's my lemur." Gold hissed as he and the poodle speed-walked back to the FOX Ops Centre. "You keep your paws off of him."

"You won't get him all to yourself that easy, you greedy bitch." She snarled back, and then added in a calmer voice. "Oh, the quarterly reports are back from accounting. I left them on you desk."

"Thanks. Did you get the personnel reports I signed back?"

"Oui. I'll schedule the interviews for next week."

"Excellent, thanks. I'm going to take that lemur away from you, you know."

"Never, mon patron, never."

* * * * * * * *

Back inside the main Headquarters building, Miss CC headed for the executive wing to prepare for the emergency meeting. At the entrance she fumbled with her pass, the lanyard had become tangled with her keys and pager. She had to empty her pockets at the guard station to get it out. She did not notice the remote control roll behind a sign announcing that stricter security measures were temporarily in effect.

Gold went straight into the Ops Centre to confer with the Duty Officer, a grey fox named Bill Hanlan.

"What's up, Professor?" He asked, leaning over the smaller fox. He was surprised to find that he was still holding the remote control when he put his paws down on the desk, but he forgot about it right away as he was forced to concentrate on more urgent matters.

"Junior Agent Hu has disappeared in the mountains north of Beijing." Hanlan announced, his voice slightly choked, 'Genghis' Hu and he had been class mates in the Academy, and good friends. He got a hold of his emotions and finished briefing Director Williams. Gold had a number of questions for him.

"Send your report to Miss CC so she can include it in the PowerPoint for the emergency Staff meeting." Gold directed when he was done. "Send a message to the Chief of Staff telling him to go straight to the briefing room when he gets in. We'll start as soon as he arrives. In the meantime, recall the senior agents, put the key staff on alert and call in another Duty Officer, we'll need you as our planner for a rescue mission if one becomes necessary." As he talked Williams responded to emails on his secure PDA from their sister intelligence agencies, which had also picked up on the disappearance. He had to put down what he was holding to work the tiny keyboard.

When he turned from the Duty Officer's station to go to the briefing room he was still texting, and the remote was left behind, forgotten for now.

* * * * * * * *

Joel went to his work shop in the basement level. It was where he worked on recreating items that could not be printed from the computer, like fake seals, pass keys and foreign uniforms. It was also where he made the skateboards, snowboards and surfboards that the senior agent Sable used in his cover as the urban athlete, Anthony Foxx. Joel kept tools of every description there, including bolt cutters.

For fifteen minutes he stretched, strained, and contorted himself in an attempt to get the jaws of the cutters around the lock, but to no avail. Even though he could double over and look up his own tailhole the whole contraption was too far up for him to get a grip on it without slicing his tail off at the same time. The shackle of the padlock was just too short, as was the loop it was slotted through. He would either have to get someone to cut it off with a hack saw or wait until the panic was over to get the key from Miss CC. Despondent, he slunk back to his lab in case they needed his services as a forger in the current crisis.

He was thirsty, but he refrained from drinking because he did not want to get the electronic catheter wet; with his luck that would probably cause the batteries to discharge all at once and fry Joel Junior. His dry mouth told him just how long it had been since his morning coffee. Two hours later, a rumble from his tummy reminded him that he had not eaten since early in the morning either. He decided to risk a trip to the cafeteria in the main building for a dry sandwich. Maybe he would run into Miss CC over there and he could get the key off her.

But when he looked around the cafeteria Miss CC was nowhere in sight. None of the senior staff were. Joel would have to call her to bring the key out to him. He decided to eat first, partially because he was so hungry, partially in hope that she would wander by and save him having to explain what he wanted over the phone, which could be monitored by security. He placed a sandwich on his tray, grabbed a bowl of Jello, and then changed his mind about liquids and added a bowl of hot soup. After paying he stood for a moment in the centre of the room, looking around to see it there was anyone he knew with an empty seat at their table.

* * * * * * * *

In the Ops Centre the Duty Officer, a cheetah of Polish extraction named Geno, notified the senior planner that the Chinese Government was about to make an announcement on Chinese National Television.

"Put it on the screen." Bill 'the Professor' Hanlan told her as he rushed in, back from the orientation briefing. Geno looked around for the remote that controlled the Ops Centre's audio-visual equipment. She spotted a black tube covered with buttons in the corner of the work station and picked it up. Pointing it at the big screen at the front of the room, she pressed the 'on' button. Nothing happened. She tried several other buttons, but the screen remained black.

"What's the problem?" Hanlan asked impatiently.

"Remote's yiffed." She replied, shaking it vigorously. Just then she spotted another one under her monitor. She tried it and the screen came to life. She quickly selected the proper station and started recording the segment, using the good remote control. She slipped the broken one into her purse, intending to return it to the tech support section at the end of her shift.

It turned out that the announcement had nothing to do with their missing spy. Hanlan told her to stop the recording and go take her break. He would cover for her until she got back.

* * * * * * * *

Standing in the middle of the cafeteria, looking around for a free table, Joel sensed a tingling sensation in his butt. Before he realized what was causing it the tingling grew into a vibration, and then into a full-blown shimmy. The next thing he knew, the device lodged in his anus began to extend and contract. Thank God for long lasting Analglide, he had time to think, before the electric shock he had experienced earlier returned.

"Whoa-ho-ho-ho." He exclaimed as he rose up on his toes, the contents of his tray going straight up. With lemur quickness he caught the sandwich, jello and even landed the soup without spilling a drop.

"Aaaah-ha-ha." He cried as the black rubber dildo inside him heated up suddenly to an uncomfortable degree. He had to find a seat, quickly. He spotted an empty table in the corner and tip-toed to it as fast as he could. Waves of electricity, heat, and vibration washed through him in varying degrees and combinations. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in the middle of a crowd of co-workers this would actually been enjoyable, but now ... he reached the chair and sat down hard. As suddenly as they had started, all of the sensations ceased.

What the hell is wrong with this thing? He wondered, as he began to set his try down.

* * * * * * * *

At the guard station, the senior agent codenamed Sable had to empty his bag for inspection before being allowed in. It was a routine precaution in an environment where double agents and brain-washed substitutes were a common threat; that and the fact that the guards, most of them ex-military police, did not trust the little skater punk turned secret agent. When they were done examining the contents of his bag for anything suspicious they indicated that he could repack the various knives, guns, and explosive devices that he had piled in the counter.

The agent was a black fox, hence the codename Sable. He was in his early twenties and had lived on the streets before being recruited by the agent known only as Silver. Sable on the other paw, was known by several names. His cover was that of the professional skate border, Anthony Foxx, but his friends called him Marcel. He glumly began slipping knives back into their sheaths and dumped the rest of his gear in his backpack. He frowned at the black plastic tube with all the buttons on it that he found among his stuff.

"This isn't mine." He showed the device to the guard at the desk. "Somebody must have left it here."

"Oh yeah, I saw Miss CC put it down when she came in." The big German shepherd held hid paws out in front of his chest to show which Miss CC he was refereeing to, although there was only one. "Can you take it in to her? We're kinds busy out here today." The dog pointed to the line of junior agents and support staff waiting behind Marcel for their turn to be searched.

"Sure. I have to go back there anyway." Marcel slipped the device in the pocket of his hoodie, adjusted his red ball cap and entered the restricted area. He went straight to the briefing room. On his way in he met Bill Hanlan, a former classmate, who was headed for the Ops Centre.

"You missed the orientation briefing." Hanlan informed him as he hurried past. "But it's loaded into the computer attached to the Smart Board. You'll have to use the manual controls to run it though, the remote is missing again."

Damn, Marcel thought, he could never get the hang of working the active display board with his paws alone. He always double tapped when he should touch just once and left his digit on the screen too long when he tried to zoom. People had actually thrown up from vertigo when he had been running the screen. Then he remembered the device that he was carrying. Maybe it was the missing remote?

In the deserted briefing room Marcel levelled the plastic tube and pointed what looked like the business end at the screen. He thumbed the largest switch, assuming it to be the on-off switch, but nothing happened. He tried it again, and again. When it still had no effect he tried banging it against the pads of his paw before pressing it four more times. He checked to see if the batteries were positioned correctly and licked the ends to make better contact before putting them back. After another three attempts he ran his digits over every button on the thing, but to no avail.

Maybe it is the wrong remote, he thought as he glanced at his watch, a recent addition to his attire. It was getting late, it would be time for Geno's break soon. Marcel decided to go meet her in the lounge.

* * * * * * * *

Joel was just about to set his tray down at the unoccupied table when the wire in his penis sent a shock through his cock. His arms jerked straight up over his head, and the action sent his lunch flying backwards. This time he had no chance of recovering, mostly because the initial shock was followed by several more in quick succession. He vaguely heard someone behind him shouting a few obscenities that featured lemurs, yiffing and death, but he was too scared to move so he did not even look around.

The shocks stopped coming, but only for a few seconds, then four more shot through him one after the other. He had broken out in a sweat and his prick was achingly erect from the artificial stimulation. One more series like that and he would cum in his ...

"Aarghhh!" He screamed in a mixture of pleasure and pain as a triple hit of electric love hit him hard. Just when he thought that he could take no more, the cup covering his genitals began to vibrate wildly. The wire inside him grew warm, then uncomfortably hot, and then began burning. The device contracted, squeezing his balls brutally. And all the while bolts of energy of varying intensity and duration danced inside him.

When it finally stopped Joel was exhausted and a strange odour was coming from his crotch. He sniffed. His extensive BDSM experience told him what it was: scorched fur and burning cum. He looked around tentatively. Everybody in the cafeteria was staring at him with mixed looks of anger and apprehension. He had to get out of here and get these things off.

He also needed a stiff drink. Joel headed for the lounge for some of Doctor Smirnoff's finest before going to find Miss CC, and the key.

* * * * * * * *

Geno saw Marcel enter the lounge and she waved to get his attention. Not that she had to. The tall blonde cheetah was dressed in her typically casual style, jeans cut off so short they seemed to disappear between her legs, a top with barely enough material to cover her nipples, leather straps, scraps of colourful cloth, and something that looked like a garter belt worn on the outside holding up tubes of denim rather than silk stockings. Marcel angled toward her after picking up a soft drink at the bar.

Marcel was not surprised to find that they were alone in the lounge this early in the afternoon. The agency lounge was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and so was the bar, but except for Friday afternoons and weekends it was run on the honour system, with video surveillance to ensure honesty. It wasn't worth having a bartender on shift all the time anymore, agents just did not drink like they did in the old days. Even Silver hardly ever stopped by. Marcel hoped that the solitude did not give Geno any ideas. She liked to yiff anywhere and everywhere, whenever the mood hit her. But he had to report in to the Chief of Staff soon and Silver would be displeased if Marcel showed up smelling like pussy.

Fortunately she was distracted by the device he held in his paw.

"Hey Lover. Whacha got there?"

"Some kinda remote control that Miss CC forgot at the guard station." Marcel informed her. "I don't know what it's for." He offered it to her, but she shook her head and pulled something out of her purse.

"I have a similar one." She showed him the one she had found at the Duty Officer's station. "I think that it is for the Ops Centre media system but it doesn't seem to be working."

Marcel caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Without turning he registered that it was only Joel, headed for the bar. Marcel took the remote from Geno and examined it, but he did not bother pushing any of the buttons. There was no point, nothing in the bar worked by digital command, as far as he knew. He shrugged and passed it back.

"They look sortta the same." Geno pointed out, picking them both up. "Like from the same manufacturer maybe."

"Could be." Marcel said without interest as he sipped his drink. "Whacha want to do after you get off shift tonight? Go out? Stay in? Rent a movie?" Whatever she decided would be fine with him. They would end up yiffing loudly no matter what they started off doing. But Geno was still examining the plastic tubes.

"Look, they both have the same switch on the bottom." She exclaimed, turning them over to show Marcel the toggles marked 'Controller mode'.

"Like our Wii controllers?" He asked.

"I dunno." Geno flicked them both to 'on'.

Across the room, Joel, who was slumped over the bar grasping a double shot of vodka, suddenly sat straight up. He had a strange look on his face, but neither Marcel nor Geno noticed, they were too interested in the devices she was holding.

"Hey, let's hook up the Wii tonight and have a sports competition." Geno suggested. "We can start off with archery, then we can try bowling, and we can finish with some boxing." With a device in each paw she mimicked drawing a bow, rolling a ball and then threw a flurry of punches into the air. "And after we're good and sweaty," she continued with a seductive grin, "we can ...." She demonstrated her intent by sticking one of the controllers in her mouth and bobbing her head up and down on it while she poked between her legs with the other device. "How does that strike you, Marcel? Marcel? Hey! Are you listening to me.?"

He wasn't. Marcel was staring eyes wide and open-mouthed at Joel.

* * * * * * * *

Joel was nursing his drink, praying that whatever had happened in the cafeteria would not happen again. It must have been the electronic emanations from the microwave ovens interfering with penis cup and anal insert, he told himself. Now that he was out of there he would be safe, safe enough to take his time with his drink before trying to find Miss CC.

His first clue that he was in trouble was an electronic hum, the kind you sensed more than heard, like when you switched on a laptop or a flat screen television. It took him a second to locate where it was coming from. It was coming from his crotch. The realization made him sit straight up.

For a few seconds nothing happened, and then Joel felt a sensation like he was being torn in two. The anal device was trying to pull itself out of his ass but the harness for the cup was blocking it. The rubber plug was squirming and jiggling like a living thing as it tried to gain purchase, but it kept slipping because of the Analglide. On the other side, the cup was going mad too. It was turning itself inside out in an effort to get away from his groin. For some reason, Joel got the impression that it wanted to travel up to his ear. The wire started to pull out with excruciating slowness.

An instant later the cup ceased its efforts, going back to its original shape. The plug reversed itself. Joel felt it undulate as it dove deep into his anal passage. The rippling made it fell like it was rolling along inside him. It was a very strange sensation, but a very stimulating one. He felt himself cum again, the spooge forcing itself around and past the now cool wire and spreading inside the leather cup. That was going to hurt if it dried before he could get it off, he realized. But for now it felt good; all warm and sticky.

His pleasure was short lived. The cup contracted, pulled away from him and then slammed back, like a punch to the groin. On the other side the demented digital dildo did the same; it was like being kicked in the ass. A quick sequence of blows rained on his cock, balls and on his tender little tailhole. Joel was weeping by the time they ceased. What next he wondered?

The next sensations were as unexpected as the beating. So much so that Joel fell on his face across the bar. He felt the unmistakable touch of warm, moist lips on his penis, and it stiffened in response. Meanwhile the device up his butt stretched and contracted like a stiff cock sliding in and out. This was so much more intense than the sessions he enjoyed with Williams or Miss CC. It was incredible how real it felt. Just like the punches, the rolling, and the ripping sensation before that he realized.

The sensations stopped. They had lasted no longer than any of the previous feelings. Pain, pleasure, pain, and now pleasure .... to be followed by .... ? Now he swore that he could feel paws on his shoulders. Something in Joel's mind snapped.

"Hey Joel, are you all right?" Marcel asked with concern from behind him, shaking him by the shoulders. It looked like the little lemur had suffered a stroke.

Joel spun and jumped up to face Marcel. "Do you have a gun?" He demanded.

"Wha ... sure, yeah. In my pack."

"Give it to me."

"Joel, I can't just give you my sidearm." Marcel explained in a reasonable voice, the one reserved for spoiled children and crazy street people. "Why don't we just sit down and ..."

"GIVE IT TO ME!" Joel screamed, and then he launched himself at the senior agent.

* * * * * * * *

Gold was in his office when his Chief of Staff, the fox called Silver, entered with an announcement.

"Good news. We just received a coded transmission from Agent Hu in China. He's okay. He was in a tight bind there for a while but he escaped without compromising himself. He'll send the details along with some information he brought out in the next Diplomatic bag."

"That is good news." Gold noticed that Silver still had a concerned look on his face however. "What's wrong Silver? Do you suspect that Hu has turned, or that the other side send the message in his name?"

"No, it's not that." Silver shock his head and sat down in one of the antique leather chairs that Williams had decorated his office with. "It's Joel Grigori."

"Oh?" Williams did not demand information, even though he secretly wanted to know what was going on with his covert lover. He knew that Silver would tell him as much as he needed to know, when he needed to know it, and not bother him with details.

But Silver continued on his own accord. "I've received some strange complaints about his behaviour, stranger than usual I mean. It seems that he has been inexplicably absent from office regularly. He isn't cheating on his mate, he doesn't have one, so I'm wondering if he might not be stepping out to gamble. He does have access to an awful lot of high-quality counterfeit money." Silver paused for a moment. "And something is stressing him out. I received a number of calls from folks today that said he pitched a fit in the cafeteria and then stomped out like he had a fence post up his ass."

Silver saw the golden fox's normally ruddy complexion go pale at that moment. Suddenly alert, he studied his friend more carefully.

"He's been doing some, ah, special jobs for me." Williams said casually, too casually for Silver to believe it. "He's probably just worked over ... I mean overworked. I'll have a chat with him. I'm sure everything will be fine."

Before Silver could respond his Blackberry went off. One of the few with software secure enough to use in this environment, he had it linked to his FOX email and telephone accounts. He pulled it out from its holster and answered sharply.

"Silver." He listened for a moment, his brow becoming more and more furrowed as the caller went on. "Hang on a second, Marcel." Silver placed the device down on the desk between him and the Director. He pressed a button to activate the speakers. "Repeat what you just told me please." The stern fox said, his chilly grey-blue eyes locked on those of his superior.

"Joel has gone insane, again." Marcel's voice came through well enough to hear the frustration and exhaustion in it. "He jumped me and grabbed my gun out of my pack. I tried to stop him but he was like, crazy strong. I couldn't stab him or nothing, because he wasn't after me. He was trying to shoot himself ... in the ass."

"Was he successful?" Silver inquired calmly.

"No. He forgot to take the safety off. Fortunately I don't use a gun with the safety in the trigger, like you."

"And you mentioned that he was yelling something?"

"Yeah. Weird shit. He kept going on about Gold having implanted something in his ass and that it was alive and he couldn't get it out. And something about Gold's secretary having a lock on his cock or something."

"How ... how did you subdue him?" Williams asked, choking slightly. His skin had gone as pale as his fur.

"Geno ran over and tried to bonk him with this remote she had found, but when she raised her paw his ass came straight up in the air after it and he hit his head on the floor. He's just laying there now, twitching."

"A black remote, about twenty centimetres long and four across with lots of little buttons?" Williams leaned in to the blackberry to ask in a small voice.

"Yeah. Two of them." Marcel quickly explained how they had come to find the two devices. Gold instructed him to turn off the 'Controller mode' and remove the batteries without touching any of the buttons. Then he turned back to Silver, with uncharacteristic timidity.

"We, uh, better get Joel over to the infirmary. He, ah, might have need of a proctologist." He said, wincing under Silver's unyielding gaze. "Maybe a urologist too." He added as an afterthought.

"Director Williams," Gold's oldest friend spoke in a voice reserved for passing judgement on sinners in the reception rooms of hell, "is this the result of you rescinding rule 47?"

"Uh ... well."

* * * * * * * *

The next day Marcel went to visit Joel in the Academy hospital.

"Hey Joel. How's it going? Hope we didn't, you know, hurt you too much in the lounge yesterday." Marcel was still not quite sure how they had subdued the frantic lemur.

"No, you helped me by putting me out." Joel smiled weakly. "I was really ranting there, wasn't I? Doc says that it's a hormone imbalance, form overwork. Yeah, just working too hard, that's all. A few days rest and some medication to balance things out and I'll be fine."

Marcel, curious, picked up a box of the prescription medicine before the weakened lemur could stop him.

"Suppositories?" Marcel read the package. "Damn, I hate using those things. I can't stand shoving things up my ..."

"Yeah, I'm beginning to feel the same way." Joel said, snatching the package back. "How is everybody at the Academy?"

"Not bad. But some of us are reeling over rule 47 being reinstated. No fattern .... fratan ... fffurk .... no yiffin' around with fellow employees." Marcel fumed. He was technically Geno's superior when they were in the field, and they shared a former safe-house on the academy grounds. The rule meant that they would either have to spilt up, risk being disciplined if they continued to see each other, or get legally mated but work separately. Marcel had not yet figured out how to deal with rule 47 and the volatile cheetah he thought that he loved. "Gold just up and put it back in force this morning." He continued bitterly. "No one can figure out why."

Joel looked away, biting his lip. They lapsed into an awkward silence.

"Nice room they gave you." Marcel commented looking around.

The lemur was in one of the private rooms normally reserved for high ranking defectors who may have gotten damaged on the way over. It had all of the conveniences, a flat screen television, an IPod dock, a game console.

"Yeah, nice. But the nurse hardly ever comes around and I'm too sore to move, so it's sort of wasted. By the time I'm strong enough to get up and change the channels I'll be ready to go home."

"I had the same problem when I was stuck in here after getting beat up on that Tunisian mission." Marcel said, and then broke into a grin. "That's why Geno and I took a collection to get you this." He pulled a small box wrapped with paper that had the slogan 'Happy Birthday' in gold letters all over it. "We, uh, didn't have time to go shopping for other wrapping paper." He admitted as he passed the box to Joel.

Joel smiled, warmed by the gesture of his friends and colleagues, as he eagerly tore off the colourful paper and opened the box. He peered inside, and his eyes went wide .... with shock. He started shaking and a trickle of foam appeared in the corner of his mouth. But Marcel was still focused on the gift.

"You like it?" Marcel asked excitedly. "It's a universal remote. Guaranteed to be able to command any electronic device that ... Joel? Joel!" Marcel rushed to the door and screamed down the hall to the nurses, "Get in here quick! Grigori's foaming at the mouth!"

* * * * * * * *

6 Months Later

Joel strode back and forth across the dungeon with his head down and his paws behind his back. Gold and Miss CC were standing straight beside each other by the door, dressed in skimpy leather outfits that had an inordinate amount of chrome. Joel stopped his pacing and turned to face them. He looked up. His eyes were cold and his gaze was steady.

"Welcome to the first FOX BDSM Association safety briefing." He announced in a firm voice, despite the butterflies that had just taken wing in his stomach. But he had to do this. It had taken six months of physical and mental therapy to recover and he would not risk slipping back into the state he was in after Marcel's visit to the hospital. He took a deep breath and continued.

"As you know we have had to make a few changes, formalize a few things, and bring in a few new rules. I'll go over them now. Rule number one - no one touches the Lemur until after the safety brief." He paused to let them absorb that one. The two big canines stood there sheepishly, waiting for the diminutive lemur to continue. Joel nodded and started pacing again as he carried on.

"Rule number two - no fighting over the lemur. The lemur is for everyone's enjoyment. Rule number three - no real locks, and certain knots are also restricted. If I can't get out of it then it doesn't go on. Got that?" They both mumbled their acknowledgements.

"Rule number five - and this is a very important rule, no electronics, everything must be done manually, by paw." Miss CC held up a paw and opened her maw to speak. Joel raised his brows inquisitively, but she hesitated, closed her mouth and dropped her paw to clasp the other in front of the crotchless panties she was wearing.

"No electronics. Not even a battery operated vibrator." Joel clarified. "We have some very good replicas of thirteenth century crank operated ones if you care to shove something up someone's tailhole, of have them used on you. The safety word for today is 'Hopscotch'. Repeat that please." They did. "Alrighty then, lets begin."

A few minutes later Joel was bound, loosely, gagged and suspended above the floor in a spread-eagle potion reminiscent of the Mission Impossible movie. Williams had his mask on and had chosen a whip with several knotted ends. Miss CC was oiling up a wooden dildo prior to strapping it on.

"Oh, before I forget," Williams said casually as he stepped up beside the dangling lemur, "Vickie and Silver are coming over to our place tonight to play cards tonight. Did you want to order something or shall I stop by the store to pick something up on the way to the chalet?"

"Pick up something frozen that we can pop in the oven." Joel told him. "The delivery guys always get lost trying to find the chalet and the foods always cold by the time they get there." After regaining consciousness in the hospital, Joel had been surprised to find that Williams had been his most frequent visitor. On thing had led to another and they had moved in together as soon as Joel was well enough to get around on his own. Now his nights were filled with foxy loving, but they did not let it interfere with their work relationship; of their sub-basement hobby.

That reminded him of something.

"Say." He asked. "What happened to Rule 47?"

Williams replied as he set his feet and brought the whip back over his shoulder, picking the perfect spot to begin. "It was superseded by rule 13, 'Whatever the Director wants, the Director gets'."

And then the fun began.

* * * * * * * *

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Geno © Coyotek

The rest of the FOX Academy gang are © Dikran_O