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Of Training and Cream Pies

Written by Amethyst Mare

With a solid thwack, the arrow thudded into the scarlet centre of the target, earning a low, appreciative murmur from the other archers, who had been sneaking a glance at the Mistress of the Bow herself as they practiced. The feathered tail quivered in the heavy wood before falling still, embedded by an inborn talent that many could only dream of acquiring through sheer perseverance; few were privileged or disciplined enough to attain such a high skill level. One such privileged person was the shapely bunny who had fired the shot. She stood tall, her paws set a shoulder width apart, steadying her frame, and surveyed the shot critically, seeing improvements where others would not. Satisfied, she flicked her hair back over her shoulder, knowing with an instinctual certainty that the distance had been comparable to what a highly skilled archer might possibly attempt in the heat of battle - not something attempted for recreation or practice.

Failing to withhold a tight-lipped smile, Natasha nocked another arrow to her bow, raising it skilfully for her next shot. It was good to be on the shooting range once more, she thought. After last night...she had wondered what kind of reception she would receive and how she would perceive it.

She fought to steady her bow, brow furrowing deeply in concentration. She could feel them around her, the other archers. The twang of bowstrings and soft thuds of arrows striking their marks was subtly intermingled with the friendly banter of those training, some instructors alternately barking instructions and hollering support, Natasha's own among them. Straining to maintain some semblance of focus, the prickling, nerve-twisting sensation of being watched made her body shiver reflexively. It was not as if she minded them watching her practice any longer, but she wondered... Did she gain their attention for her skill or for her body?

Flinching, Natasha's ears twitched and the arrow sprang from the bow, terribly off from the intended mark. She sighed laboriously as the arrow landed lightly in the damp grass, a sad and forlorn twig amongst the sturdy targets with better aimed arrows branching out from the wood. She glanced about, allowing herself a sheepish smile at a nearby archer who had looked over in concern when the stray arrow had drifted into his line of sight.

"Natasha!"

The archery instructor, a burly storm-grey bull with keen, amber eyes, waved her over, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He rubbed his knuckles across his forehead, a heavy, moist snort misting the air for a second before vanishing. Releasing a resigned sigh in turn, Natasha hooked her bow over her shoulder and padded over, her tread leaving dewy footprints in the damp grass.

The bull, fondly called 'Sergeant' by his friends, students and pretty much everyone else too from force of habit, shook his head at Natasha, fingering his powerful, curved horns with a delicate touch.

"You missed by a mile, Natasha," he snorted, gesturing as if to both state the obvious and demonstrate the mistake once again. "Where's your head at today, hm? This isn't like you - are you feeling unwell?"

"No, Sergeant," she replied, leaning back on her heels. "I feel fine - slept very well, really. I'm just finding it difficult to concentrate this morning. My next shots will be better."

"Sure?"

Natasha nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair off her muzzle, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden; was there really any point in lying to Sarge that everything was fine, just fine, when he could see right through her?

"It's only..." She began slowly then trailed off, eyes averting to the other archers, who were going about practice as normal.

"Only what, Natasha?" Sergeant prompted, placing a supportive paw in the small of her back.

She shifted anxiously, her cotton tail twitching with a mind of its own, and sought to banish the scattered remnants of her nerves.

"Only...after last night..." she said awkwardly, a glimmer of stubbornness bidding her to raise her muzzle to meet Sergeant's eyes squarely. "My initiation - there are men here that were with me last night... What if they treat me differently after this? I know they are watching me and I want respect from them. Maybe it is strange to hear me say this...but I believe that it is something I deserve now, especially now."

Sergeant chewed his lip, pondering what she had said. Her concerns were surely justified if she had been in her old world but here... Natasha had to learn that she had nothing to worry about and certainly had to maintain her training with ease of mind. Perhaps there was a way to... Ah, yes: that would do the trick nicely. He smiled secretively.

"Come with me," he said abruptly, clapping his palms together and beckoning Natasha to follow. She rapidly trotted up alongside the larger male, a natural, relaxed bounce evident in her step even with her subtle trepidation. She squeaked as Sergeant's paw settled lightly upon her pert behind, restricted only by her light cloak, which staved off the morning chill.

So strange... She mused absent-mindedly. There was something about his touch that made her feel unusually secure, like a paw placed upon a friend's shoulder - only better. The bunny half-smiled as she contemplated propositioning Sergeant to join her in the bedroom later that day if time permitted; she had an inkling that he was quite the generous lover and was curious to discover if her gut instinct rang true.

Her wariness increased when Sarge called out for several archers - the very men she had voiced her concerns about - to join them, the males greeting Natasha with what was quickly becoming characteristic warmth. Alron rolled his eyes with cheeky humour at Sergeant's paw on Natasha's rear, curling his arm around her waist and stealing a quick kiss from her muzzle, making her giggle softly.

"Right, lads," Sergeant said when he had gathered all he had wished. "Drill practice today with my lovely lady here, Natasha, who I am sure you all are familiar with. Archery and sprinting combo - sprint towards the each of the target sets in the usual order, fire when instructed and sprint to the next. Five sets of this, let's see if you've been keeping up with that stamina training, eh, Alron?"

"Yes, Sergeant!" He responded quickly, snapping to attention - his eyes had been on Natasha again who shook her head slightly at Sarge: See? I was right.

Breathing out slowly, Natasha steadied herself. She was familiar with the placement of the targets, having run this particular drill session herself before, so the basic knowledge was not an issue. She also found herself comfortable with the idea of being in charge of the group; no butterflies were fluttering up to attack the lining of her stomach, which would have certainly been the case not so long ago.

The only question was...would they listen to her?

Only one way to find out, she thought, meeting Sergeant's eyes and nodding as he stepped back, allowing her to take charge.

"Right, lads," she said loudly, acquiring their attention instantly in an imitation of the Sergeant - hell, it was not as if they had not all mimicked him before. "Take up position, single file, well spread out."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, watching them move into position with a critical eye. It did not seem like they were about to disobey her instructions or be disrespectful, but it was too soon to really tell. Steeling herself, she pinpointed the first set of targets and then snapped her muzzle back to face them.

"Ready... Go! First target! Sprint, sprint!"

And they were gone, pounding towards the first target at full pelt, paws flying as they pushed their bodies ruthlessly for the first set. As the targets had a reasonable distance between them at times, Natasha bounded behind, keeping a short way to back to ascertain the degree to which they performed.

"Stop...and shoot!"

Paws skidded over the grass and they slid to an ungainly halt; every member raised their bow, nocked an arrow and fired, the struggle to keep their paws steady showing in the tremble of their arrows. Natasha smiled grimly as the arrows thudded into the targets, some off centre but carrying not a single bad shot.

"Next target - go!"

Her sharp eyes picked out the next target and she mentally ran through the remainder of the drill; she knew where every target was, that was no issue. She wrinkled her nose, almost feeling uncomfortable without the wave of nerves that should have accompanied her mental review of the drill. Normally, she would have been panicked for the few driven seconds that it took to reassure herself that, yes, she did know what she was doing and, no, she was not making a fool of herself. The absence of fear was a luxury indeed.

Flat-soled boots sinking into the mud, Natasha bounded forward at a respectable distance from her training group, hollering orders when necessary, her critical eye missing nothing - positive or negative. She yelled encouragement as often as constructive criticism, lips pursing when the lads, fighting to control their racing heart rates upon the last set, missed more targets than they struck.

We need to run this drill more often, she realised, calling the command for the final target to be fired at. We're not ready to shoot on the move in battle...if there was to be any battle, that is.

"All right, that's enough now!" she called, waving the males back. "Collect your arrows, don't let them go to waste. Leave your gear at the storeroom and regroup here."

"Yes, Ma'am," they chorused, feet dragging as they moved to do as instructed.

"You did well," came a low, approving voice in her ear. She didn't even flinch, rolling her eyes and rocking back on her heels to glance up at the Sergeant, who had, with underlying stealth, come to stand behind her. "Of course," he added after a moment's thought, "they might have run a little quicker for me."

"Are you serious?" Natasha snorted dismissively. "They pushed themselves far harder for me today - harder than I expected, in all honesty."

"Maybe you should be a Drill Instructor then, m'dear," he chuckled, shaking his head thoughtfully.

"Maybe I should," Natasha quipped cheekily, placing a paw lightly upon the bull's chest, eyes cast mischievously downwards. "I give them more to focus upon."

"Not with that pesky cape hiding your...ah...assets," Sergeant smirked, moving as if to snatch the covering away from the bunny. Squealing playfully, Natasha danced away, wagging her finger admonishingly at him.

"Nuh-uh, only when she says," Alron purred, returning with a smug grin. "Haven't you learned that yet, Sergeant?"

Vehemently, the other males punched the air in agreement, the roe buck even leaping off the ground for a moment in a move akin to his feral counterpart. Natasha's eyes glittered, her ears perking right up as she fought to contain the sudden surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. After all that... They did still respect her. Perhaps they respected her even more, which was almost beyond rational comprehension.

"Can't a guy even be playful now?" The bull grumbled good-naturedly, adopting a mortally wounded expression. "I can't even tease a lovely lady without sheer insolence from you lot!"

"Oh, not only from them, Sergeant," Natasha said casually, finding her voice. "Me too."

Alron guffawed loudly and even Sergeant cracked a half-smile, thinking that he did not particularly mind cheek from the cute bunny. She was too sweet to be mad at - it was all in good fun regardless of what was actually said. And fun was good for their morale.

"Finish the training session, Natasha," he said gruffly, struggling to conceal the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Then you may retire for the day. Keep up their morale and send them back to me in one piece, you hear?"

"Maybe, if I feel like it," she said, giggling when he rolled his eyes and strode away, rapidly returning to hollering orders in his trademark instructor's pitch. Natasha chuckled again, more to herself this time, and winked wickedly at her group.

"Morale, huh? Right, lads! I've got something to teach you now! Fall into formation behind me."

He's either going to kill me for this...or not.

"Ready? You know those 'cadences' the others have been singing lately?" She paused while they nodded and murmured their acknowledgement of this. "Well, we're going to be singing a very special one today, lads. Fall in and march!"

Natasha smirked, the glint in her eye overshadowing the unfamiliar movement of her lips, and the boys cocked their muzzles inquisitively. She stepped forward lightly, lifting her shapely legs unashamedly to march, slipping into the motion as if into a warm bath after a long day of work. The lads were more ungainly and Natasha fought to contain a bubble of laughter that threatened to burst forth.

"Come on, boys - Alron! You guys should be very familiar with this tune!"

Tossing her hair back to dislodge the sweaty strands slicked to her neck, the bunny cast a flirty wink to Sarge, who raised a disbelieving eyebrow: Well then? He appeared to be asking. His eyes were on her body and yet...she did not mind, not now - not anymore. She smiled genuinely, raising her paw to alert the others, and chanted.

"The Army calls 'em drill sergeants,

The Navy calls 'em RDC's,

The Air Force calls 'em their TI's;

But mine is strictly a DI:

"Drill Instructor," then his rank

Unless you want to play games,

Never "sir" or something more

Or my face is on the floor!"

A soft giggle escaped behind her, followed a split second later by a muffled "oof". Winking slyly, Natasha shushed the boys with the frantic motions of her paw, not daring to sneak a cheeky glance at Sergeant's expression yet. He probably wouldn't be angry...but she was not nearly as daring as she would have liked to be about teasing him, holding on to her old sense of politeness for the sake of mere formality. The boys jostled one another, stifling their laughs behind paws and gear; Alron rubbed the back of his skull, a dazed look in his eyes accompanying his delighted grin. Natasha closed her eyes, soothed by the steady, rhythmic marching at her heels, soft, pink lips parting once again.

"If I called him "Drill Sergeant,"

He'd take me out to the pit.

If I called him a TI,

He'd make me feel like I would die.

If I called him RDC,

He'd make an example out of me!"

Natasha spun on her heel and smirked at Sarge, who had the most endearingly incredulous expression upon his muzzle. The bunny smoothed her ears back and blinked innocently at him, sweeping her cape to one side to permit him a tantalising peek at her bouncing, round bottom, pivoting back to drive the boys on to the cadences pinnacle.

"So make sure you get it right,

Or you'll end up in his sights!"

That sealed the deal: on the final line, laughter overwhelmed the group, half doubling over on the spot. Even Sarge chuckled to himself, fingering one horn, and sweeping his gaze to the bunny, eyes warm with affection but also pride. It was good to see her laughing and not taking everything so seriously. The fur in question, giggled madly until tears rolled down her cheeks, holding her side to stave off a splitting cramp.

It felt good to laugh.

"Now if I may have your full attention, boys," Natasha said, standing upright with difficulty and taking up position at the head of the group, she dropped her cape with a wicked smirk. "Follow in formation around the perimeter of the grounds for one more lap and do not get distracted! Same cadence again, if you please."

Jess, sparring on the far side of the field near Sarge, twitched her ears in amusement as Natasha marched by, her following group visibly struggling to maintain concentration and keep their erections from causing more than the most meagre distraction. She winced as her sparring partner landed a glancing blow on her shoulder, which she eagerly leaped forward to counter, her fists pummelling into her partner's defence in a basic but effective move, until he stepped back, raising her paws in defeat.

Tom flashed her a smile and she nodded in return, acknowledging his praise of her session. As she was finished for the day, but awaiting feedback from the Sergeant, Jessica walked on the spot patiently until her breathing steadied, although no response was forthcoming from the bull. She gave a tiny frown and looked up at him, chuckling softly; of course, he only had eyes for the bunny practically prancing sexily about the arena.

"Hello? Sergeant?" Jessica giggled, waving her paw tentatively a couple of inches from his muzzle. He blinked dazedly, as if returning to reality from a hypnotist's trance, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm sorry, my dear, my mind was not in the right place. Cool down now, stretches, you know the routine."

"Actually," she began, leaning forward and down to stretch out her legs, feeling the pull of well-worked muscles. "I wanted to ask you something."

"And what would that be?" He answered with a question, his gaze flicking to her soft, round rear, so perfectly displayed.

"Hm...it's just that it seems strange to me that everyone still finds nudity arousing here. Back at home, if someone wears an unusual, sometimes shocking, article, we eventually become accustomed to it and it loses the "shock factor" after a while. Why is that not the case here, for nudity though?"

"I'm glad you asked that Jess," he murmured thoughtfully, impressed. "It all goes back to the Blessing."

"The Blessing?"

Sarge nodded, gesturing for her to continue stretching while he talked.

"It is the Blessing of the Goddess that allows us to enjoy our natural state. The Goddess granted us this, but it is subject to some...rules, if you will. Citizens of Jahaliya must behave in a just and compassionate manner at all times - no exceptions. For example, if someone was to ridicule the naked body of another, that would go against the rule of the Blessing. If one of us was to break the rule of respect..." His voice trailed off and Jessica paused in the midst of stretching her arm muscles.

"What? What would happen?" She probed, bushy tail twitching in intense curiosity.

"We would become...in a sense like people from your world, concerning what you have told us of their attitude towards nudity. We would become ashamed of ourselves and cover up our bodies, concealing our sexual acts behind lies and closed doors. Nudity would no longer be arousing to us.

"I cannot imagine that ever happening here."

Jessica flinched in sympathy, making a soft noise of discomfort at the thought. Now that she had learned to be comfortable nude, she was not sure that she would desire to revert back to her old ways. Being naked was so...liberating. And to have nudity be less arousing once more was a terrible thought indeed to the red panda.

"That's awful," she whispered hoarsely, afraid to speak any louder in that moment. Sarge shook his head reassuringly and held out a paw, which she took, to assist her to her feet.

"It has not happened during my lifetime, so do not fear: it is very unlikely to occur, however dreadful the notion of it is. Even if it was to happen, once the culprit - the lawbreaker - is caught and set to rights, things would slowly return to normal, so it is not a permanent state as long as we put things right once more."

Jessica suddenly realised that she was standing very close to Sarge - her chest was almost brushing his, her nipples rising into firm buds not from the cool air. She raised her eyebrows and fought off what she knew was an unnecessary blush, feeling the Sergeant's member steadily hardening against her stomach as he smirked mannishly.

"It seems that your mind is not on the information you are imparting to me, Sergeant," she noted with a subtle tilt of her head.

"Well, my dear, if we are to travel down that road, I think it is fair for me to say that I would dearly love to take you to bed with me, although I fear that will have to wait for another time and place," he winked, puffing out his chest, which only made Jess laugh.

"And why not? I have no plans for this evening," she flirted, letting her gaze travel down his body until he flushed hotly under her attention.

"I, uh - "

"Come on, Sergeant, get your cock down and save it for your off-time."

The bull rolled his eyes theatrically, conceding to John, who had just walked up, a bundle of scrolls clasped tightly in one paw, still managing to give Jessica a friendly smile and hug.

"Jess! I'm sorry, but I must keep this meeting brief," John apologised. "I came to inform you that your initiation will be this evening."

"This evening!" Jess exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise. John nodded his affirmation of this, delicately withdrawing a scroll edged with red detailing from the pile, which he passed over to the panda.

"Meet your guardian in the reception hall. Sadly Ryoga and Lydra will not be able to attend this time, but they send their best wishes to you. Are you ready for this, Jess? You're not worried, are you?"

"Worried? Of course not!" She could only grin widely. "I'm sure it will test me but after seeing - or rather hearing - Natasha's initiation...I can only say that I look forward to it! I only regret one thing."

She winked at Sarge, one paw resting lightly upon her hip, which jutted out provocatively.

"I think our plans for tonight must be postponed."

*

"Okay: this is unexpected."

Jessica's jaw fell slack and she stared about what she could only describe as a spacious, well equipped gymnasium, drinking in every detail. It held the finest gym equipment that she had ever seen - not that she had done a great deal of exercise in gyms before. The occupants of the exercise room added the thick scent of male musk to the air, many furs of various species grunting with exertion, battling against aching muscles as they feverishly sought physical enhancement. The red panda's tail, fluffed up from an extensive grooming session, lashed back and for, the tip a blur as it whipped around in uncontained excitement. Tom laughed at her reaction, rocking back on his heels.

"Gentlemen and our lovely lady on the floor, Jessica," John announced, his voice seeming to come from a distance. Inquisitive, Jess caught sight of him standing high on an observation balcony, a crowd of other furs a few paces back, less than she had expected, although perhaps they were only out of her line of sight.

The mouse's ears flattened incrementally, muscles tensing in the concentration necessary to form a glimmering image of Jessica in her school garments, which solidified upon the platform beside him. The image of the red panda had her muzzle tilted to hide behind her hair, tail curled tightly as if for protection about her small waist. Looking about with the whites of her eyes showing, the image searched for somewhere safe to flee, constantly twitching and unable to stay still for even a single second.

Jessica winced, feeling an unexpected sort of shame burn her stomach at the thought of being so reserved, so timid and so afraid. She was not quite the same any more...but a part of her still wished to curl back into her old self, back to the safety that had once been so comforting to her.

A larger part of her wanted change.

"Rather than show you another image, citizens of Jahaliya, I would have you simply look upon who this young woman - soon to be fellow citizen - has become," John continued, giving sharp nod.

Blinking suddenly from the glaring, bright light, Jessica started as the spotlight fell upon her, standing tall and alone in the centre of the floor. She raised her paw to shield her eyes until they adjusted, the shadowy image of her previous self disintegrating into nothingness before the enthralled audience, edging forward to bear witness.

"Now a lady of the word and battlefield, Jessica's intelligence, strength and irrevocable beauty are comparable to taking a draught of a fine wine in the midst of a barren, drought struck land," he continued grandly, although some of the audience stifled murmuring giggles at the grandiose nature of his speech.

"You flatter me, John," Jessica murred, cocking her muzzle contemplatively, then delicately loosening the ties of her cape, allowing the silken fabric to swathe about her ankles. She stood tall and squared her shoulders, steel lacing her gaze as she looked up and nodded decisively.

"Are you ready, Jessica? Are you ready to embrace your own raw, untamed lust and become a citizen of Jahaliya?" He asked, his lips tugging upwards in a half-smile. He hardly needed to ask apart from the need for formality; her answer was crystal clear in the determined yet lithe tautness of her body.

In silent reply, Jessica unbuckled her harness, tossing it away to one side and posing naked with nothing more than her heeled, off-time boots, the dark leather of which contrasted wonderfully with her russet legs. Giving low murmurs and yips of appreciation, the audience leaned forward as one, all eager to see more of this crimson beauty, quickly turning seductress. And if they were said to be drinking in the sight of her, Jessica was lapping up the attention, resting her back against the wall with a coy smile to fondle her own body to a smattering of premature applause.

The panda's ears swivelled as something rattled into the room, dreadfully noisy over the low clamour of the males exercising. A trolley piled high with what looked to be - yes, they were - pale, pastry cream pies, towering stacks that teetered precariously back and for as the trolley was wheeled to a halt close to the exercise equipment. Jessica shook her head and looked to John for direction: what was she supposed to do?

"My lady, Jessica," John said playfully, extending a paw towards the trolley. "Would you like to attempt to distract our studs from their training and do some 'creaming' of your own, my dear?"

"What? Really?" She giggled, paw in front of her muzzle. "This is my challenge? Hah...don't mind if I do then!"

To encouraging shouts from the observation deck, she pranced over to the trolley, carefully testing the weight of a pie before launching it at the nearest stud, a stallion with more muscle than bone. He grunted deeply as it splattered across his chest, cream rolling down his fur even while he staunchly continued to lift weights, muscles twitching in a truly equine fashion. Jessica giggled shrilly, hopping from foot to foot as she grabbed two more pies, hefting them in her paws.

Psh...it's my challenge and I'll do what I damn well please tonight! She thought rebelliously, pausing at the mental tremor that paid heed to her sudden daringness. Taking an audible, calming breath she laid her ears back in a sultry fashion and lifted one pie high, words humming like fine music from her unbidden lips.

"A pie for you, my dear stud,

please forgive if I distract from training,

because - what's this here? - and with a thud

a cream pie to the crotch for the champ of reining!"

She sprang from the floor upon the conclusion of the final line, sending the pie in a graceful arc to land squarely across the stallion's fleshy sheath and balls. He groaned and shook himself, sending clots of milky cream flying, a noticeable snort of good-natured annoyance escaping his mannered muzzle. Pleasantly surprised, Jessica whistled lowly in appreciation as his mottled pink and brown shaft grew hard even under the messy cream and pastry; the stallion licked his lips and nickered for her to come closer, but the panda simply smirked, dancing back lightly, questing for her next victim. Her eyes fell upon a ram who was doing a series of chin-ups, huffing from the strenuous physical exertion.

"Where is my next victim and is he hung?

Perhaps it is the ram, as we can't forget you

who raises the bar to the highest rung:

here's your sweet treat, not one but two!"

She flung two pies, as promised, forward, one smacking into the rams stomach while the other soaked his crotch and bobbing, pink member in dripping cream. Raising her eyebrows wickedly at his state of arousal, Jessica pranced forward confidently to 'lend a paw' and clasped her small paw about his slick, thickening shaft, letting his own motions drive his cock through her relaxed grip. As if suddenly renewed with energy, the ram picked up his pace, grunting in a primal, desperate manner to thrust his dick into the combined stimulation of soft, female paws and thick cream again and again.

"Maybe we should try that technique on some of the lazier trainees," John commented to nobody in particular as the ram drove himself into such a frenzied motion that he climaxed hard, bellowing his pleasure and spurting thick ropes of seed over Jessica's paw.

The red panda lifted her sticky paw to her lips and sucked the cum from her fur, giggling humorously when the ram slumped to the ground in defeat, eyes rolling back in his head from continued pleasure.

"Can't keep up, big boy? I'll have to find another playmate then...for now."

She licked her lips seductively, encouraged by his lusty groan, casting her gaze about to catch just how many eyes were upon her. To her surprise (and slight dismay), she found that many of the males were still focused upon their various forms of exercise, apparently finding toning their muscles a more attractive prospect than the attractive, playful femfur. Jessica bristled, grabbing a tall stack of cream pies, pacing to a clustered group of weight lifters, simmering resolve in the slinking movement of her form.

All eyes should be on me by now! What, now that I'm not half-hidden behind some book they're not interested anymore? I'll damn well show them.

"Don't dare to ignore me, I have a few tricks,

I'm as sweet as honey - just a hint of spice,

rather you than me: I'll cream your dicks,

watch this place, boys, I'm one to entice."

Several furs murmured and grumbled alternately as cream pies smashed upon their toned bodies, coating a large portion of their fur in sticky goodness. A husky yipped at Jessica, making her pause for a second while he scooped a pawful of cream from his chest and beckoned to her, tongue lolling from his muzzle coolly. His casual, confident smile soon disappeared, however, when a pie splattered across his muzzle, knocking his head sideways from shock rather from the force of the blow. The furs on the deck above cheered for Jessica who spun on her heel and pointed to a shaggy, black wolf whose chest was rumbling with throaty chuckles of appreciation for the cheeky femfur.

"I know what I want and you will provide,

Take note here, wolfie: with you I'll be tied!"

He growled softly, ears perking eagerly, but his endearing, brown eyes were caught by a flurry of movement over Jessica's shoulder, a small frown creasing his dark muzzle.

"What's going on?" Sylvia growled, her voice rising to an ear splitting crescendo. "Jessica? What on earth -"

"Now, love, calm down," Horace said soothingly, wrapping his arms around her and pinning her flailing limbs tightly, his ears twitching sympathetically for the lioness' infuriated snarls at being restrained like a naughty schoolgirl. Jessica had barely noticed the disturbance, or was choosing not to, instead firing a rapid succession of pies at her males of choice with uncharacteristic squeals. Sylvia sagged, her muzzle falling forward: there was nothing she could do or should do to stop Jessica. Of course, she realised, it was Jessica's initiation and while it had caught her off guard - why couldn't Horace give her an iota of warning at times like this? - there was nothing inherently wrong with what she was doing...was there? It almost looked...fun, Sylvia thought, surprised at herself.

"Do you want to go, dear?" He asked, drawing her in close to his chest, not privy to the turmoil that was her thoughts. She leaned into his arms and shook her head, a glimmer of determination strengthening her resolve.

"No, no... I will stay and watch. Just to ensure Jessica is safe," she added quickly, although she secretly felt that she would not mind watching for her own pleasure and satisfaction, given the privacy and choice to do so. But Horace was not to know that.

Cautiously, she made her way over to Jessica, tapping her shoulder with a small, curious smile - a smile that she hoped did not convey an ounce of her trepidation. Jessica flashed a toothy grin in return, the lights glinting off the whites of her teeth for a passing second as she whirled and fired two pies at the black wolf, both striking the 'mark' of his cock.

"Here..." Sylvia suggested, hesitating before extending her paw towards Jessica, a pie placed delicately upon the flat of her palm. "Allow me to pass the pies to you so I may assist."

"Of course! Thanks, Sylvia!" Jess giggled, an eerie sense of light-headedness rendering her dizzy, as if she had spent the latter part of the day consuming alcoholic beverages and not using males as amusing target practice. The blissfully combined scent of stud and sweet cream was a truly intoxicating aroma.

Curling her bushy tail around her leg in a mocking pretence at coyness, Jessica batted her eyelashes at her next victim, a tawny coyote, permitting Sylvia to supply the pies and covering him from head to toe in cream. Leaving the stud spluttering madly and wiping cream from his muzzle, Jessica tossed her hair back and grinned sharply.

"Look here, fellas, you're in trouble now

for there's two playing games,

for my teasing, I'll repay without any row,

some will have me yet I won't name names!

"Sylvia: would you like to cream these boys?"

"Uh...no, no, thank you," Sylvia muttered hurriedly, shocked at her suggestion and heat flooding her muzzle, much to her chagrin.

"Aw, come on," Jessica cajoled. "It'll be fun! Just one?"

She couldn't...could she? Shaking her head in disbelief, Sylvia took a pie and weighed it in her paw, shifting uncertainly. Jessica pointed to a mouse fur she had succeeded in creaming several times already but with some noticeable bare patches.

"How about him as our next target, Sylvia?" She winked wickedly. "His butt is looking just a little bare...but we can fix that!"

Hardly able to believe what she was doing, the lioness growled softly in unconscious appreciation of the stud's taut rump, cock bobbing as he did a set of push-ups, shooting nervous glances at the two conspiring femfurs. Sylvia's arm snapped back and forwards to send the pie sailing through the air where it splattered messily upon his conveniently raised rump, rivulets of cream dripping down to his swollen balls. Jessica punched the air triumphantly.

"Score!"

The lioness nodded, licking her lips; the mouse's arousal swelled even more, the fleshy organ swaying in a hypnotising manner, better than any hypnotist than Sylvia had ever seen anyway. A girlish giggle bypassed her lips: she was the cause of this arousal! Her - Sylvia!

Smiling, Sylvia cocked her head, imagining what obscene lines Jessica would concoct next. Why, should even had a few ideas to let spill! Opening her maw, Sylvia found herself in a most unusual predicament - should she leave the poetry to Jessica? However, her trouble was quickly alleviated; Jessica giggled and nodded frantically.

"Come on, Sylvia, my throat's getting sore I want some left in me for later!"

Rocking up on the balls of her feet, the lioness brushed her hair back from around her golden muzzle, lashed her tail and rested her paw on her hip cockily. Feeling the gaze of a predator, the males put aside their exercise equipment as Sylvia commanded their attention in an approach only she could master.

"Lads, perk up - no, wrong part!

If you don't catch this lady first, she'll have your heart."

"I wouldn't mind!" The wolf called out, to a ripple of amusement around the gymnasium, licking his muzzle appreciatively. "Wouldn't mind having you either."

"You should be so lucky!" Jessica retorted, wrapping an arm around Sylvia's waist. "She's too good for you!"

"And you aren't?"

"I'd entertain the idea of you," Jessica winked and pivoted, showing off her wiggling, curvaceous rump to a round of appropriate wolf whistles. She batted her eyelashes sweetly, appearing the picture of innocence until she pounced on the remaining cream pies and smacked them into the muzzles and bodies of several of the distracted males.

"I'll have you know that I'm in charge,

maybe I'll share my bed with none other than Sarge!"

Chuckling almost to herself, Sylvia rolled her eyes at the catcalls that rang out so quickly after that, the males seeming intent on egging Jessica on to fuck Sarge. Sylvia called out to them, cupping her paw around her muzzle.

"She will break from her shell,

this true lesson all may tell,

a sexy slut to embrace Jahaliya:

to romp and play and screw and say with no fear!

Deafening cheers erupted from the observation deck and Jessica turned proudly with her head raised high to display herself to them, knowing with a deep-set certainty in the very core of her being that she was fit to be a citizen of Jahaliya. She was proving that to herself, if not her riveted audience.

Sylvia stepped up to Jessica with another rack of pies that had been wheeled in, chuckling as she dragged the protesting girl away to stand in the middle of the floor, noticing Horace's worried look as she separated Jessica from her fun, though she merely replied in kind with a sly wink.

"My friends thus gathered - are you prepared for payback?

Here's some pies to help you on track!"

Perhaps they had hoped for this chance, because, almost as one, every male converged upon the trolley with crows of delight, dashing forward to fling them haphazardly at the cheeky red panda, despite their aim being less accurate in the majority of cases. Jess yelled, covering her head and muzzle the best she could while her breasts were plastered with cream and broken pastry, accentuating them like a second coat of smooth, snow-white fur.

Smirking, Jess straightened, sliding her paws through the thick cream and twirling the tip of her tail like a baton with which she conducted her troop of males. She dipped her finger into the mess, scooping up a hefty dollop and sucking it from the digit sensually. Scoffing at her act, the revenge makers fought to remain composed despite being betrayed every second by their unbridled erections, lustrously dripping with pre cum. Jessica leaned slightly to one side, managing to dodge the first of the next volley, but slipped on the slick linoleum, leaving her unbalanced and easy prey to be splattered quite thoroughly once again. Sylvia ducked as one pie sailed past her head, a drop of cream clinging to the contours of her ears.

"You were in on it too, Sylvia!" The stallion neighed sharply, stomping forward and flipping a tightly braided mane back from his shoulders.

The lioness' eyes widened as several of the studs nodded and advanced on her with feral, but light-hearted, grins, paws stacked high with teetering towers of pies. She yelped mockingly and fled the stage, Jess squealing indignantly at her sudden desertion. Falling into Horace's arms dramatically, Sylvia theatrically raised her paw to her forehead, struggling not to giggle at Jessica's look of dismay.

"Too late, boys!" She called back cattily, her leonine tail thrashing like a rattler. "You'll have to satisfy yourself with the lovely lady still on the floor - I'm sure she would adore all the attention you may give her."

"I never knew you saw me as a protector, Sylvia," Horace rumbled deeply. Looking up, Sylvia flashed him a sharp-toothed, feline grin.

"Not exactly," she purred, crying out in triumph as she smacked the last pie across his muzzle. Horace blinked, dazed, even as Sylvia danced out of reach, punching the air triumphantly.

"Well aren't you a little minx," he chuckled warmly, dabbing a pawful of the cream on Sylvia's nose, which she lapped up, as happy as the proverbial cat who got the cream.

"Now my friends!" John shouted above the din, jumping to his feet to the disgruntlement of Kayla the lynx who had been lapping over his shaft and balls contentedly. "We can all agree that Jessica has passed her initiation with flying colours. However, I would like to invite every male in this room to finish pelting this scarlet lady and share some messy pleasure!"

"What? No!" Jessica squealed in mock terror, miming as if to run away until she realised with a start that she had been surrounded. She sighed deeply, as if saddened that her ruse had not brought success; they had been in no way thwarted by her attempt at fright.

"Ah well...can't dish it out without taking some in return, right, lads? I'm Mistress of the Word and I remain victor in the battle of the cream pies!"

"Oh, sure," the black wolf huffed upon advancing, gaze fixated upon her sleek chest. "Give us a finishing note then, Mistress of the Word."

Jessica pivoted on one foot, spreading her arms out wide as she spun in a circle, her hair flying out around her muzzle like a russet halo. Her eyes were closed as she chanted softly, repeating past dirty lines then raising her voice proudly for her finale.

"There were a hundred cream pies,

a scarlet topped one under the guise

of shy and timid - now dispel the lies:

I came out trumps in the battle of cream pies!"

Throwing her head back with wild abandon, Jessica held the last note, the pure pitch of her voice reverberating around the hall until one of the males - his fur colour unrecognisable beneath the sheer volume of cream - launched a particularly well aimed pie. It smacked the shocked panda squarely in the muzzle, soaking her sweet muzzle in the equally sugary dessert. Sylvia moved as if to help her, worried that she may have been hurt by the projectile, but Jessica merely wiped the cream from her eyes, sucking it from her fingers with relish. The males let out loud whoops, launching the pies in earnest from every side until the poor panda was completely covered from head to toe in the mess, very little of her beautiful, auburn fur to be seen.

"My friends and fellow citizens of Jahaliya," she giggled playfully, spinning on the spot to show off how the cream clung to every contour of her body. "If John gives the word, I have become one of you - but I shouldn't be so formal! I'm a messy slut, after all!"

The panda smoothed the cream across her body, massaging it into her breasts with a wicked flutter of her eyelashes that drove the males to yell appreciatively, dancing in agitation and desire to take the slutty, proud female.

"Well, Jessica," John called, leaning over the barrier surrounding the observation deck. "If you insist of being a messy slut, I have no inclination to allow these males to treat you as anything else."

"Oh, yes!" Jessica laughed, whirling to face her rampant audience. "I'm so messy - boys, I think I need to be cleaned and only your tongues will do!"

They needed no further encouragement, pouncing upon the delighted, squirming female with yelps and triumphant howls. Jessica was lowered to the floor and, lying upon her back, she writhed and moaned under the attention of what felt like a hundred different tongues all adoringly lapping her clean. Several males focused upon her voluptuous breasts, twirling their tongues - she thought they must have been canines of some sort - around her nipples, making her cry out in pleasure, a low, deep-seated warmth building in her belly.

"Oooohh!" She moaned, reaching out to the crowd of studs. "My pussy is aching for some 'deep treatment', boys...if some of you would be so obliged to taste a Mistress of the Word!"

She was surprised when the males backed off a little at that, muttering amongst themselves and then calling for a specific one to join. Jessica had trouble keeping her jaw off the ground when an anteater fur strolled forward, his long, sinuous tongue furling out of his muzzle like a snake derived solely for the pleasure of a female. He teased the femfur with the sight of the supple, unbelievable flexible appendage for a while, only conceding that he had teased enough when she moaned wantonly, wriggling and thrusting her hips towards him.

"Please!" She begged. "Fuck me with your tongue!"

Needing no further encouragement, the anteater smirked and dived between her lewdly spread legs into the matted mess of female juices and cream that coated her inner thighs. Jessica moaned, rolling her head back, as the skilled fur shot his tongue deep into her pussy, his impossibly supple tongue squirming up to her cervix to tease the unyielding opening. He hummed while he licked enthusiastically, working to coil his tongue within her pussy and squeezing Jessica's g-spot, rewarding by the furious but delighted screams from the red panda.

Jessica writhed like a snake, some of the males pinning her limbs down with difficulty, solely to avoid being struck in any sensitive parts by her flailing paws. Thus restrained, Jessica could only quiver, her whole body shaking as if withholding a great energy, and take the erotica lapping of her cunny. She moaned in protest when he withdrew his tongue just as she was ascending towards her first, and greatly needed, climax, glaring at him with a shocking intensity they could only assume she had learned from Sylvia.

She started to speak, but the anteater placed a paw upon her belly, circling the tips of his trademark claws in very light, relaxing circles. Relaxing back, Jessica shrieked suddenly and the males craned their heads to see what the pleasure-giver had done; the anteater hummed again, twining his sinuous tongue several times around Jessica's throbbing, engorged clit, and squeezed. Jessica screamed and squirmed uncontrollably, the rush of orgasm reducing her to a thrashing, near-feral state, her form wracked with shockwave after shockwave.

But the anteater did not stop - not even as a pair of wolves leaned over to lap and tease Jessica's breasts, coaxing the dying thrums of her orgasm to reverberate once more. Groaning wantonly, Jessica turned her muzzle to the side, begging incoherently for her anteater lover to keep stimulating her perfectly as her orgasms climbed, gaining increasing power like a growing, snarling storm. Sylvia turned her head away, a deep sense of unrest rising in her gut: she did not want to watch the rest.

"Horace?" She questioned, not needing to say anymore; she knew he understood. Wrapping his arm tightly around her narrow waist, he kissed her forehead tenderly, gently drawing her towards the door and from the room.

As they left, John bounded past them skidding to an ungainly halt to chuckles of amusement from the congregation above. He spread his paws wide and tapped his foot on the floor until Jessica noticed him; the pleasure-stricken female rolled over on to her front and pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, supported by the black wolf, who appeared to have become a favourite.

"Congratulations, Jessica," he said with a broad, characteristic grin. "You are now a full citizen of Jahaliya and I welcome you to your new life as one of us!"

The crowd erupted in cheers. Jessica's ears flicked back in mild embarrassment at the level of noise they were making - for her! - but she could not prevent the warm smile affixing to her muzzle with pride and joy that she had completed her initiation with flying...pies. John applauded for her, his hard on waving prominently about his crotch, just demanding attention: Jessica shivered, her arousal spiking.

"This Jahaliyan warrior slut wants you!" Jessica roared, leaping out of the throng of males and dragging John, who, to be fair, did not resist at all, into the slick mess of lusty sexual fluids and broken cream pies.

*

Stalking into the bedroom, Sylvia's whole body thrummed with exhilaration after Jessica's display and her part in it. She sighed deeply and rolled her shoulders to relieve the tension there, suddenly standing stock still as she finally paid attention to her surroundings.

Horace was at the side of the room - that was not unusual. But the fact that he was lightly bound to an X-frame, one eyebrow cocked coyly at the lioness was rather uncharacteristic. Staring open-mouthed, Sylvia caught sight of the stack of cream pies at his feet and a subtle smirk spread across her face.

"Hello, sweetheart," she purred, cocking her muzzle at him and eyeing his stiff member. "Just what have you done to yourself."

"Hello, yourself," he chuckled softly. "I seem to have discovered myself in a bit of a...predicament, my dear. Would you like to test your aim once more?"

The lioness gave no immediate answer, instead choosing the largest pie from the pile, the top swelling with an incredible volume of cream. She took a stance and squealed delightedly as she hurled the pie at her lover from a few paces away; at close range, there was no doubt of her aim being untrue and the pie smashed into his dick, pre cum mixing with cream that dripped languidly to the carpet.

"I'd love to!"