FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter two of The House Always Wins

Written by: Blackfire Story and editing assistance by: Teiran

Luke was beyond fed up. Borderline furious, even. Weeks had gone by since he'd last heard back from Mr. Aric or his associates. When first they'd met they had hashed out the contract, at length, and then nearly all communication broke down. He'd called them, and after hours of waiting on hold, and when a real, live person was finally 'gracious' enough to take his call, he'd been given the run around. Initially the coyote hadn't been told anything at all, and when his persistence finally paid off and he got through to Aric, the only thing the cheetah had be willing to tell him was that his "order was still being processed." Whatever the hell that meant.

Worse still, he was at a complete loss in regards to what to do about the situation. After all, what could he do? Go to the Better Business Bureau and complain that his kinky escort service had -- gasp and shock! -- turned out to be a shady buy? Not only would he never again be able to show his face in public, nothing at all would be done regarding his complaint. Luke was sure of that. These people were too well connected, and, reading through the contract for the hundredth time, legally speaking it looked like he might truly be up Shit Creek without a paddle.

He felt angry. Used. Abused. Dirty. And not used in any of the kinky ways he wanted to feel. Not abused in the way he'd paid good money to be abused. Over two million dollars, if you can believe it! They'd initially demanded a million and a half, but that amount had only bought him about four months of time with his chosen 'Trainer', or whatever bullshit title the company used. Being the business man that he was, he'd haggled them up to a year, but they insisted that merited additional compensation. And so, voila, they settled on just over two million dollars, at a "discounted rate", as the cheetah had phrased it. Once everyone was on the same page, hands were shaken, contracts were signed, checks were cut, and backs were patted firmly in masculine fashion.

But the giddiness the coyote felt gradually dissipated, and worry soon began to take its place. A worry that gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He'd had to confront the fact that he'd been bilked by a con man, to the tune of millions of dollars, no less. All they'd done was flash a few nude photographs they probably gotten from a quick internet image search and he'd been happy to fork over an uncomfortably large percentage of his life savings.

But that was all going to change that day, he decided. Getting out of his car on a clear, breezy day, Luke walked across the parking lot and into the office building where he'd met Aric and strode purposefully towards the elevator.

Spotting him from behind the welcome desk, a secretary or intern or some such tried to grab his attention as he made his way past.

"Sir? Sir! You'll need to sign in, sir. Sir! I don't have any appointments scheduled for this time. If you'll come over here and-- sir, wait!"

Luke ignored the pert, well dressed female squirrel and stepped into the elevator, which thankfully responded the moment he pressed the button. Selecting the floor that he'd met with the damned lying cheetah at the last time he'd been here, the determined coyote also slammed the elevator door close button with a clenched fist, shutting the grey metallic doors several meters in front of her as she scampered across the lobby to intercept him. As the doors closed, the last thing he saw was her reaching between her cleavage to retrieve what looked like one of those Life Alert necklaces you see on late night TV for the elderly. The secretary was probably summoning staff security.

'Let them come. I won't go quietly. I'll just have to make them see that it'll be less painful just to give me back my money, rather than deal with the disruption and migraines I'll make sure to give them.'

Luke found himself smiling at the thought, relishing the idea of going into moral battle against these ne'er-do-wells, the self-made entrepreneur already brainstorming a series of scathing criticisms he'd shout out over the heads of whatever mall cops they sent to greet him. But the coyote's smirk faded and then vanished when he realized the elevator wasn't going up towards the thirty-second floor, like he'd selected. It was going down.

Visually scanning the buttons, he saw that there wasn't supposed to be anything underneath the lobby, and yet, the red LED display said he was already at -B10 and still going down.

Beep, -B11...

Suddenly not so entirely sure of himself anymore, Luke was at a loss.

Beep, -B12...

The coyote's unhelpful, apparently troll-like subconscious decided to take this particular moment to remind him that he hadn't told anyone where he was going.

Beep, -B13...

It also began replaying every dark, creepy, arousing rumor that he'd ever heard about this company.

Beep, -B14...

Handsome young men, down on their luck, offered well-paying jobs across the country that were never heard from again, so some said, always in a hushed whisper.

Beep, -B15...

Well, he was sure they'd be reasonable. Why shouldn't they be? He was still a paying customer, with a money trail that would lead back to the company, he mentally reassured himself. Not that anything like that could happen. Not really. Right?

Beep, -B16...

His hands began to feel clammy. His formal tie too tight. His shoes cramped and his feet achy. His gut felt vacuously hollow... and yet, somehow filled with panicked butterflies.

Beep, -B17...

Luke's subconscious was still at working, this time helpfully reminding him of that horror movie he watched years ago, where that lady was trapped in a slow moving bare-wire elevator as snarling demon creatures battered themselves against the walls, trying to devour her.

Beep, -B18...

He'd be polite, he decided. No reason to make a scene. He was a civilized coyote, and there was no gain in playing the tyrant. He'd be reasonable. They'd be reasonable. Everyone would be perfectly reasonable.

Beep, -B19...

'Good lord, just how deep does this shaft go down? I'm probably just over-thinking this. I'm betting the elevator is just on the fritz, and my nerves are just jumping the gun. Nothing to get bent out of shape about, I'll just take the stairs back up and--'

Ding. -B20.

The metallic door slowly slid open and in front of Luke stood a bull who was the perfect image of a mall cop, right down to the silly hat and fake looking badge. He unconsciously allowed himself a sigh of relief.

"Oh, hello there! I seem to have gotten a bit lost, can you help me find Mr. Aric? I'm afraid I don't have an appointment but I'm sure he'd want to meet with--"

Unfortunately for the coyote, he wasn't able to continue on with his calm, pleasant disarming of the situation, due to the long, black, stick-like taser that had just been crammed between two ribs and discharged at near full strength directly into his chest. His mind registered intense agony, and then all went black.

---

Twenty minutes later, Luke lay on the floor in the corner of a small, windowless conference room, crumpled into a somewhat fetal position. Still very much unconscious, his hands were handcuffed together behind him.

Above him stood two men arguing loudly. However, despite their volume and proximity to the coyote, he was mercifully unaware of the discussion.

With crossed arms and hostile body language, Miles Aric the cheetah confronted the man he blamed for this entire mess.

"This is what happens when you drop the ball, Hank. Lack of follow through isn't just unprofessional, it's a liability. This is your mess... so tell me what you're going to do about it?"

Sneering in response as only a hyena can, Hank replied, "Unprofessional, eh? Sounds like an apt descriptor for a suit who signed a contract he couldn't follow through on. And you can cram that attitude right up your ass. Shit don't work on me. Bluster alone might be all you need to manipulate your subordinates, Miles, but I don't work for you, and I sure as fuck ain't putting up with your corporate bullshit. And just who is this guy supposed to be, again? Despite your shrill nasal-ing, I haven't heard you get to the part where any of this is actually problem."

Making a visible effort to calm himself, Aric gritted his teeth and tersely said, "This is Luke Burnet -- the case I assigned to your docket months ago. The case you've been ignoring. The case I've emailed you a dozen times about. Or doesn't the phone we supplied you with have email and calendar apps?"

If Hank was worried about any of the fallout from this debacle sticking to him, his calm demeanor and tone didn't show it. He appeared confident, relaxed, and in control.

"You can assign as much shit to my docket as you like, suit. Doesn't mean fuck-all to me. I'm a free agent. I work on contract, and I take the cases I feel like taking. Thirty-something thrill-seekers aren't up my alley. Stick him with someone else. So, in case you didn't get the message from me ignoring your emails, I formally pass."

"Listen, you little--", thinking better of it, the business man paused and changed tactics. "There's over two million dollars on the line here, for a single one-year contract. With your commission percentage rate, you stand to take in a very large portion of that haul. In one year -- in a SINGLE contract you could make more than enough money to retire on. Instead, you've turned this into a shit-storm of epic proportions. We don't know who he's talked to, and we don't know who knows he's here. We can't just make this guy disappear, Hank. The only reason I even put your name on the list of eligible contractors in the first place is because you flagged yourself as open to side work. Well, here's your side work. My advice: Take the money and do the job, before things get hard on you."

Allowing his ample chest and arm muscles to flex, Hank enjoyed an internal chuckle as he spotted an almost imperceptible flinch from Miles. 'So the corporate shill is genuinely worried I might wreck up his pretty face. Maybe he's not so stupid after all.'

"Pass. Shove him off onto one of the other Trainers or give him his money back. See? Simple problem, simple solution."

Professional facade cracking once more, the suited cheetah nearly hissed out, "We tried -- he'll only accept you. He's got it hard for you. Don't ask me to explain it -- some kind of obsession. He saw your one-pager during the negotiation and now he's dug his heels in. He's already throwing around legal threats and accusations of a shell game. And refunding his money isn't an option."

"Why isn't it an option? You fuck something up? You did, didn't you." The hyena's big muzzle broke into a grin, "Come on, suit. Lie to me. Spin out some more bullshit for dear ol' Hank."

Thinking on his feet, Miles replied, "It's nothing nefarious. Just a small accounting oversight, it doesn't matter. But you're not hearing me. We can't refund his money, and we can't make him disappear. This isn't some homeless teenager, Hank. You have to take the contract."

"Oh, I have to, do I? Well, tell me more about this 'small' accounting oversight."

Breaking eye contact briefly and forcing his arms to stay at his side as he resisted the urge to scratch the back of his neck in nervous frustration, Aric lied as convincingly as he could.

"We've rolled into a new financial year. Since he pre-paid last financial year, that money has already been allocated and doled out, as per our usual accounting practices. Like I said, an oversight. For you to appreciate any further explanation, you'd need an accounting degree. Short story is, we've taken and spent his money already and we haven't made good on our end of the deal. And as his presence here on the floor might indicate, he's losing patience and not taking 'no' for an answer."

"Seems pretty assertive for an alleged submissive. He really charged in here all by himself?"

"As far as I can gather at this time, yes. So, will you do it, or do we have a problem? If this escalates any further I'm going to have to contact HQ proper, and neither of us wants that."

Not as immune to the siren call of a huge influx of cash as he might pretend to be, the Trainer crossed his arms and silently mulled the situation over. With his rate of commission he'd stand to gain somewhere around a million outright, plus whatever he could strong-arm the coyote to pay for during the contract period. If Hank got his way, and he always did, that could cover damn near all living expenses plus entertainment. As for the Product itself, the coyote didn't look half bad. A bit on the scrawny side, maybe, but Hank could fix that with a strict training regimen.

But the hyena could tell that there was something more to this situation. Something he didn't have a handle on quite yet. One thing was for sure: the coyote's appearance had rattled the suit's cage for some reason, and he planned on finding out why. In the meantime though... if the standard compensation for this contract was great, more would be even better. And the cat's desperation smelled delicious.

"I'll think about it. No promises. And, if I do decide to take on the contract, you owe me a favor. No, make that two favors. Big ones. And when I call them in, I'm not taking 'no' for an answer, cheetah."

Furred eyebrow twitching in indignation, Aric sputtered, "Outrageous. No favors. Just take the huge check and be satisfied that you stumbled into this good fortune."

Smiling the dashing grin of the victor, Hank's deep voice rumbled out, "No favors, no contract, suit. And it just became three favors. I'd suggest you accept the offer now, before I get priced out of your market. I believe the term you're familiar with is: non-negotiable."

Experiencing the rare (and very unpleasant) sensation of being trapped between a rock and a hard place, the business man sweated under his collar. He felt the compulsion to talk the Trainer down to more reasonable demands (blank-check favors were incredibly risky, to say the least), but the man had a long running reputation for being both stubborn and entirely uncompromising. In another situation, Miles might have admired about that about him, but at the moment it was simply infuriating.

"Fine. Deal. But only two favors, and only if you take on the contract. We're through here. Let me know what you decide by the end of the day."

Watching the cheetah storm out of the room, the hyena allowed the man his small victory of breaching his supposedly 'non-negotiable' point, and considered all the ways he could call those favors in.

He could stop the elevator mid-floor with just him and the little twit inside, and use his superior strength to call in a favor right then and there. Maybe for a blowjob, maybe to make use of a convenient urinal. Maybe both. The mouthy fucker deserved no less, he figured.

Perhaps he'd even sample the arrogant asshole's asshole. See if it was wound-up as tightly as his personality. Hank bet the lithe little cheetah would squeal real good as he pressed his thick meat between the cat's spotted buns.

Or, even better, give the much shorter business man a nice, humiliating, permanent tattoo. Sure, the suit's fur would grow back and then it would no longer be publicly visible. But the two of them would always know it was there. It'd have to be something tasteful... like, 'HYENA URINAL' or "KNOTTY KITTY".

The possibilities were nearly endless. But, that could wait. Looking down, Hank sized up his potential new charge.

'So, this is the chump who paid two million for the privilege of being bossed around by the tallest, best ripped, and most handsome Trainer on staff? Can't say I blame him. You better be ready to prove to me you got what it takes to hang with the big dog, sleeping beau.'

With that last thought, Hank picked up the limp body of the still unconscious kinky coyote, slung it over one of his broad shoulders, opened the door and stepped out of the conference room, whistling softly as he walked.

---

Luke woke up from the sensation of a paw slapping across his face. Not too rough, mind you, but not particularly gentle, either.

With a start, he arose. Or, rather, he attempted to sit up. Instead, he found himself strapped down to a padded table of some sort. "Mphrrhph!," was all he managed to utter, simultaneously discovering that he had been gagged while unconscious. And apparently stripped naked.

In an instant, everything came rushing back to the coyote. The anger. The drive. The worrisome elevator ride. The taser.

As his eyes adjusted to the room's somewhat bright light, he realized he wasn't alone. Which made a certain sense, of course. He had just been slapped, after all. Blinking a few quick, half-dozen times, he focused on the tall silhouette of the person in front of him, until it came into focused and took the shape of a man. A hyena, to be exact.

'The hyena!', Luke mentally exclaimed. The coyote stared up at the man, awed by the sight of him. He looked, well, just like his picture had. He was even grinning like he had in the pictures, that strong jaw line and big smile something that Luke had dreamed about kissing. He towered over the table Luke was strapped to, and he was grinning down at the coyote like he'd just said something funny. 'Holy shit, he actually exists. And he slapped me... oww...'

And it was the same hyena, Luke could see that his tan and brown fur had the exact pattern of the man in the pictures. He'd memorized those pictures, and he could see the pattern of little dark spots common to hyenas on his chest thanks to the open white shirt he wore. A shirt that was so tight Luke could see every muscle in his chest, and the man's arms looked like they might rip the fabric if he flexed too much.

Fully focused on the object of his fantasies for the last few months, the coyote turned his head and crooked his ear, not wanting to let his sleep and taser addled brain prevent him from hearing what the man had to say. Seeing that the fellow's lips were already moving, he strained his cognitive faculties to tune in.

"--bit of a pain to carry around. Let's not have any more acts of heroism, shall we? You don't fit the part, and it certainly isn't a turn on. Comes off more like some jerk standing in line at the service counter at some super-mart, demanding a refund. Just kind of tacky, if you get my drift. You understand me?"

The gagged, tied-down coyote wasn't really confident he was following the context or hearing all the subtleties of what the hyena was trying to say, but he was awake enough by this point to nod his head enthusiastically.

"Peaches. Okay, well, since you're here, you and I are going to have a little chat. And by that, I mean I'm going to tell you how this going to go down and you're going to continue to nod at me with that endearing befuddled look on your face. Still following along?"

More neurons coming online with each passing second, Luke nodded again. By this point he was conscious enough to start genuinely wondering if he should be start becoming worried.

"Bonza. So, we know why you're here. You paid a couple mill or so to spend some quality time with me. But, I'm no hooker and I don't jump for anyone just because they flash around some bills. I'm a free man and a free agent. You want to feel me press your face into a pillow while I help myself to your rump... well, you'll need to prove to me you're worth my time first. In short, we need to find something about you that impresses me. Help me out here, would you? Because I'm not seeing it yet."

"Mphhhrphph!", the outmatched canine tried to interject, unsuccessfully. Looking around his surroundings for the first time, he realized they were in some sort of medium sized examination or medical room, given the equipment and supplies lying about.

"Well, let's check you out, then. So, you have a bit of money. Well, that doesn't impress me much, so... moving on. Hmm. What else. Maybe you were born with an easy win? How about package size? You got a lot going on inside the sheath department? Or maybe you're one hell of a shooter? What you say, you packing a super soaker for me?"

Seeing Luke's ears go down in embarrassment, Hank clucked his tongue. "We'll, I'll take that for a no, then. Shame. Okay, so money is out... package is out... appearance is out -- no offense. Well, that really only leaves one thing left, doesn't it? Obedience and eagerness to please. I confess... I have a soft spot in my heart for good boys. Can you be a good boy for me?"

Blinking a couple times as he processed what the hyena was saying, eventually an internal light switched on and he nodded up and down in a terribly excited fashion.

"You sure, pup? I'll be honest with you: it's not going to be easy. I'll ask you to do things you won't want to do, and then I'll expect you to do them anyway, all while keeping a smile on your face... irrespective of how you might feel. Think carefully now. You and I, we're going to get into all sorts of kinky situations, many of which will be miles past your comfort zone. If I tell you to run to the store in the middle of the night to pick up some Icy Hot so we can smear it all over your cock, I'm not going to want to hear all the reasons you think that's a bad idea. I'm going to want you to smile, kiss me, hop in your car, and go pick up a big bottle of Icy Hot, so we can have some fun making your dick feel like it's on fire for a couple hours. Getting the picture, pup? I need a boy who'll scream out how much loves me when I press my shaft into him, but is just as happy to have me nearly split his dick in half with an unreasonably large metallic sound. No safety words. Just obedience and eagerness."

As the hyena gave his kink-filled speech, Luke couldn't help but be affected by the picture the man was painting. Feeling his pulse pick up and his breathing deepen, the coyote's face blushed hotly under his fur as he felt length begin to slip out his sheath. For the introverted entrepreneur, this all was almost too much. All the simultaneous stimuli: The hyena Trainer's deep, sexy voice. His exceptional height and well-developed musculature. His words. His rugged, handsome face. He wanted to be a "good boy" for this man. Almost desperately so. And as his cock grew to full, rigid arousal, he felt the emotions of lust and shame competing for the driver's wheel in his brain.

Allowing himself a deep, rich chuckle, Hank walked over to the side of the table that Luke was strapped too, and said, "Well, since you're offering a taste, I don't mind if I do."

Leaning down, he took the coyote's average sized shaft into his mouth, and allowed his tongue to roll around it as his wet lips caressed the base of the canine's shaft, where his knot was already beginning to form. Making pleased humming noises to himself as he enjoyed the submissive's offering, Hank cupped the boy's sack in his left hand as his right sought out and found one of his nipples, before squeezing it between two fingers.

Luke could only groan through his gag in response to the amazing sensation of the Trainer's lips and tongue manhandling his privates. At first he couldn't help but watch as the hyena's head bobbed up and down on his pole, but soon he had to close his eyes. The view was just too agonizingly erotic, and he was deathly afraid of cumming too soon. Both because Luke wanted this experience to last as long as possible (forever, if it could), and because he was more than a little terrified of what would happen if he seeded the huge man's muzzle without his express permission.

Strapped down on the padded table, the submissive grappled with his desperate libido for over ten minutes as the self-assured Trainer sampled the taste of his flesh and pre-seed.

Finally, Hank extracted himself off the Product's length with a wet smacking sound, licked the boy's pre-cum dripping slit once more with his broad tongue, and said with a big grin, "Nice flavor, boy. Too bad for you we have things to do now, or I'd of gotten a sample of your milk production. Speaking of which, since we need to get this show on the road, have you made up your mind? Will you be an obedient, eager, loving boy for your dear ol' Hank?"

His arousal lying hard and saliva covered over his stomach, Luke nodded so fervently he was a tad worried it might look like he was having a seizure. But he was too close to finally fulfilling a decade long dream to worry too much about embarrassing himself.

'Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!'

Holding the coyote's doe-eyed gaze in his own, much sterner eye contact, the hyena replied. "Well, we'll see, won't we? Your test starts now. Don't fail me... and don't let yourself down."