FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"A story for anyone who has ever woken up in another person's lingerie."

The following tale of private things made sinfully public is brought to you by a generous donation from the FA: tigertau foundation

Disclaimer: Tau and Katja have a very special relationship that works for them due to years of established trust, and intimate bonding. Before you go out to find your own kinky playmate, learn to recognize your limitations, and do some research before getting into the hard stuff. Not only does rope burn, but the psychological impact of especially intense play can have a much greater impact than you might suspect. Please bind, and sex, responsibly.

Please enjoy!

________________________________

"If Wishes Were Tigers, Leopards Would Ride" By Bishiebunny

There are few things half so fearsome as a prowling pride of office ladies, and the birthday-party of five was no exception.

Fierce cougars, solitary hunters to a fault, retreated back to their booths, nursing wine glasses, and eying unattended college boys, waiting for the untethered workforce to drink the bar dry, and then wander off to find happier hours. Younger packs of party girls, basically herds of rabbits hurtling themselves into the nearest maw, gave the older women a respectful distance. The pride was largely comprised of mothers and the mother-adjacent. The last thing any young woman wanted was to be sent home with an earful of hypocrisy and a purse full of unused condoms.

The club crowd thought they were the pride's equal, whooping it up, and calling out for more shots, determined not to be outdone. But while the clubies fancied themselves a collective, they tended to be more a collection of singles, trying desperately to fend off adulthood for one more night. Eventually, they began to wander aimlessly, stumbling about on broken heels and precariously mixed drinks. One by one, they were picked off, succumbing to temptation, risking everything for those who promised less, and delivered nothing.

The pride was tactical and their evening had been meticulously planned: right down to the bars visited, the adult stores invaded, and the male-strippers tipped. They had long since mastered adulthood, domesticated it to their tempo. It held no fear, simply a dreary, monogamous monotony, and one on whom they delighted in cheating.

Figuratively speaking, of course. None of the married women were looking to step out on their husbands, except perhaps Elizabeth, but that was for another night. Nor were their single co-workers allowed to stray too far afield, carefully shepherded back whenever eyes or lips started to wander. This was their secret, it was how they broke the curve of every desperate soul, trying to milk the evening for all it was worth. All they wanted was a night out. They were satisfied with that and only that, so even a night that was dark, and full of terrors, held no power over the pride.

They flirted, because it was fun to flirt. They drank, because it tingled on the way down. And they danced just to watch the clubs spin about them, until the clubs became dizzy, unable to keep up. Defeated, the night wandered off to pick apart more desperate prey.

"Oh my god, he signed your tits?" Sheryl was scandalized, because the wide-bottomed, brown bear, with temporary crimson highlights, liked being scandalized. Her tone might be incredulous, but the matron's cheeks were rosy on more than just intoxication. "And he left his number too? Damn girl, what is Pieter gonna think of that?"

The curvy, blonde beech marten shook her head, though immediately regretted it. When the alley stopped spinning, she replied, "Pieter would want me to call the man," Irene sighed. "Poor dear has hit his second, or maybe third midlife crisis, I'm afraid. He wants to try out some new things while he still has the body to do so."

"You wouldn't," squeaked Vicky, a slim white mouse, wearing a shimmering black dress that threatened to slip off her shoulder at every turn. The glitter in her eyes and curve of her lips said she might, but that hardly counted, with her being so unconscionably single.

"Probably not, but you never know when a husband starts counting his greys," The marten tsked. "And to be fair, the kids are out of the house an awful lot these days." Flicking an errant, golden lock from her features, the mother of two, wife of one, gave her buxom beauties a tipsy jiggle. "Might be fun."

Licking her thumb, the bear reached up, smudging the ink before it could dry, "Awful lot of 'hell nah' in that 'might,' girl. Trust me, I've been down this road with Paul. You think your man is worried about his greys now? Bring a new stud into the bedroom, all swole and glistening; see how long it takes for Pieter to snag a ten thousand dollar membership at a gym he'll never step foot in."

"At least wait until I've had my fun," Elizabeth smirked, casually flicking the flimsy material of her cocktail dress to the side, revealing the shapely thigh of the New Forest pony, where the same number had been etched. "I will let you know if the boy is worth the trouble."

"Your husband is a good man, Liz, or near enough." Sheryl grunted, this time her disapproval clear.

"He is," Elizabeth snorted, not especially fond of the shortened use of her name, or the admonishment that came with it. She let her dress fall back into place, lest the mama bear assault her leg with saliva, "But I am neither, and he was well aware of that fact when we hitched up."

"Listen here, Liz, I-"

"Sorry, I can't seem to hear you over the sound of Paul ogling me at last year's Christmas party," Elizabeth teased. It was never wise to poke the bear, but she was riding high on recent attention and the drinks it had bought. Besides, two Liz's in a row was beyond the pale.

The mama-bear said nothing, but her eyes narrowed as she took a meaningful step toward the pony who had found a sudden, rather urgent state of sobriety. Vicky squeaked, hiding behind Irene, more firmly convinced than ever that marriage drove women insane. The heavy-chested marten simply folded her arms under ample curves, not really ready for cat-fight o'clock. But she was not about to step in front of a charging Sheryl, particularly when Elizabeth was so clearly asking for it.

"Is it over?" Moaned a throaty, long-suffering voice that came from right around crotch level. Katja, the silver, spotted leopard, with the amethyst eyes, whined from her chosen perch on the sidewalk, not caring that she had probably saved her co-worker from an aggravated mauling. "Is my birthday celebrated? Can I go home, and hurl now? I think I snorted one of those plastic witch hats up my nose. Now it's lodged in my brain, and I'd like to die in my own bed. Please?"

Sheryl held up a warning finger to Elizabeth, "That's your one, Liz. Don't push it," before turning to the beautiful birthday-leopard, who was currently sitting with knees neatly pressed to a shapely chest that peeked out from either side of the feline's sheer, emerald-green dress. "As for you? Girl, it's not our fault you can't handle your Scumble. I seem to recall you saying something about being able to hang. Look at'cha, cashing in on some fermented apples."

"Mostly apples, Sheryl," Irene chuckled, "Three is enough to pull the rest of us out of our undies, and I seem to recall your limit being four." The marten turned her smirk toward their disheveled peer, "Your 'girl' had five."

Regaining her composure, Elizabeth shook her head, "Eh, Sheryl has the right of it. Our company kitten had a choice: another drink, or her first lap dance." The pony sniffed, "Who would have thought little miss meow was such a spoilsport? You would think she had someone waiting at home."

Vicky smiled, reaching down to help her fellow, single coworker, to unsteady feet. "Maybe, ulp!" She had made a slight miscalculation, not accounting for the fact that the leopard was almost twice her size, causing the mouse to nearly end up in Katja's lap. A few flailing, awkward limbs later, and she continued, "Th-that is, maybe she's just not into oiled up guy bits, smearing grease and glitter, all over her face."

"Says the mouse who paid extra for a two-fer." Katja teased, swaying awkwardly where she now stood.

"Wh-what? They were both cute." Vicky blushed, "Was I supposed to embarrass the other guy, just because he brought a smaller party favor?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, matter-of-factually. "Though he did have nice calves."

"Quiet everyone! I believe we have a motion on the floor to table the evening's fun," Irene announced. "Will the chair recognize the request?"

"Afraid not, missus Secretary," Sheryl replied. "We have an itinerary to keep, and our constitution clearly states that the party don't stop until multiple question marks." The bountiful bear MILF whipped out her Mandroid, pulling up a few notes, flicking through the evening's schedule. "We've hit three question marks so far, maybe four. So onward, and upward it is." The bear fumbled a bit with her phone, catching it before it could hit the ground, then blinked as that same ground seemed to lurch upward.

Really? Come on Sheryl, you're supposed to be setting an example here. What are these girls going to think if momma bear loses a step? "S-still, we could use a breather, and Katja could use something in her belly, 'specially if she's going to survive her birthday present."

"Wait, my what? And what do you mean by 'survive?'"

"Let's see, Marcus' Curious Confections is nearby, and nicely expensive," Sheryl looked up at the New Forest pony with a sly expression, "Elizabeth's treat, right?"

"Say nothing to Thomas," Elizabeth shut her eyes, burying the scowl before it shifted into a pink blush, "or Paul, and you can stuff yourselves well silly."

"Sadly, I'll have to wait on the stuffing," Sheryl replied, "I gotta check on our suite. Irene's got the address, so we'll meet up there. Oh, and pick up something lemony and cheesecakey for me."

"Suite?" Katja blinked, "B-but bed, bath, bad TV in my yoga pants!"

"Assuming I didn't screw up the registry, the suite has enough bed space for all and even a private room for her royal highness' shiny hiney." Sheryl grinned, "also two baths, one of which I'll be using when you girls get there, and ya'll can fight over the second. Comes with cushy robes for lounging, or so I was promised, and I've got the entertainment covered. You'll see."

"But...."

"No rest for the wicked, I'm afraid," Irene smiled, hugging the protesting leopard with all the encouraging warmth of a proper chest smoosh.

"I'm not wicked, like, at all." Katja pouted, utterly defeated.

Sheryl slipped her phone back into her purse with a grin, "Well then, I suppose we'll have to do something about that."

***

Katja had to admit, the robe was ridiculously comfy, and the fuzzy footwear saw to her soles with all of the fluff that only proper bunny slippers could provide. No longer reeking of frustrated musk, or spoiled fruit, her clean hair was snug in its overstuffed turban of towels. She had been the last to snag a soak, and with a gratuitously large garden tub to do it in, she had let the evening's tension slip down the drain. Even her stomach had finally settled, if sitting a bit heavy on rich treats, and she was finally free to seek out the serenity that had eluded her ever since Sheryl had invited the leopard to her own birthday party.

The company bear was sweet, if a bit too interested in the comings and goings of her work force, but the woman wanted to play at a wild night in the way an actress might play at being a call girl. Sheryl's understanding was muted, muffled by a life that had never really known need. Oh she was full of want, as most women, most people were. Need, on the other hand, was beyond the bear's understanding, beyond most of them, really. This left Katja feeling jealous of the blissfully ignorant haze her coworkers took for granted.

Want was missing out on seconds, but need was to be on the edge of starvation.

She could hear them in the other room, being catty to the fashionably misinformed, cackling high and loud as they did when the menfolk were not around. A cork had been popped, a woo had lit up, and now they were toasting her health, wondering if their feline friend would make use of any of the brightly colored toys they had gifted her. She picked up one, which was equine in shape, if not quite in size. Katja doubted if even Elizabeth had seen a true stallion, his flanged member shimmering and slick, in all its aroused glory. Paul was supposed to be big, or so Sheryl liked to brag, but he was less a bear, more a badger. At least he was when compared to some of the men the leopard had teased, with no intention of keeping the promises made by her greedy eyes or wet lips.

Still, it was a decent sized collection, the very essence of quantity without quality. Here was everything a lonely woman, or adventurous man, might need to keep occupied, and it was all utterly useless to Katja. None of her peers really understood the purpose of toys. They were not meant to be substitutes, to fill in for lovers who were either absent, or simply incapable of performing up to the impossible standards set by expectation. They were aides, things to keep one distracted while a Dominant checked to make sure the night's plaything was properly restrained. Such objects were tools to elicit emotion, desire, and often shame, but they were incapable of bringing satisfaction on their own. Well, not for her at any rate, not for quite some time now.

Serenity? As if!

What had been a light scritch along the back of her neck became a scratch, and then a tightening grip. She pressed her thumb to her windpipe, threatening to tighten beyond all reason. She could never quite choke herself, any more than she could surprise herself with a tickle, but the attempt was shameful on its own, and that set a cold heat to rumble about her center. There was a quiver along her upper thigh, leading up to a wet warmth that pulsed in response. Her hand fell from her throat, sliding down between plump, perfectly shaped breasts, trailing fingers past her navel, toward the sensitive areas that lay underneath.

Katja's thoughts returned to the pile of battery powered mischief behind her. She leaned back on the suite's master bed, curves spilling from a lose robe, as she searched through the gifted erotics. Each one had been opened in full view of the others, painting the leopard's cheeks crimson. Not that any of the objects had shocked her, not really. Nothing her coworkers had gathered would have been worthy of her personal toy chest, and they certainly would not have passed His critical eye. Still, she was like a murderer being asked to play Clue, fumbling with the playthings that were so like, yet unlike her weapons of choice.

With a sigh, she pulled out a string of anal beads, that might as well had been marbles, "and not a shooter in the bunch."

Something came to life in a rolling spin of vibrating blues and illuminated reds. Something with a finger-grip, a smooth surface, and variable settings that had come from Vicky, which Irene had immediately flicked on, before settling it to bounce and bop between her breasts. Katja snorted, it was a piece of candy when she wanted, needed cake, but it would have to do. The color swirl was a bit annoying, but when properly tuned, the vibration had a nice dance, and she could probably beat to it.

Thighs spread slowly, revealing a hidden heat that was practically drooling, looking to make a feast out of a famine. She ran the digital device up the swell of her inner thigh, and gently kissed her feminine lips with the toys cool surface. Normally, she would have warmed it up first, but the shock of it was just what she needed. Eying the latched door, she ran the tickling time bomb where it could do the most damage, rolling a slow circle around an aroused nub, dancing just under her clit and then about the edges, varying the contact, careful of over-stimulation, even with her frustration building toward the unbearable.

The sudden rattle of the door had the leopard hissing, her eyes darting furiously to the useless "Do Not Disturb" signs scattered about the bed-stand. "Jus- nnff," Katja fumbled with the now-slick device, trying to find purchase on the off-switch. "Just a moment." It slipped from her hand, bouncing high in the air, like a disco-ball during a police raid. "Be there in a," misjudging, she sent the toy skyward once more, before finally clutching it hard to her chest. "Off, off, fucking off you little miserable shit-stain of a-"

"Katja?" meeped Vicky through the door. "Irene said the dresses go-"

"In here, yes, of course. Why the fuck wouldn't they?" Katja grumped, her thumb sliding over the switch, only managing to intensify its buzz, until it became a livid bumble bee in her palm. "S-sorry?"

"No, no, you're fine dear, be there in a minute. Bad cramp in my leg, rubbing it out, that's all. Shouldn't have bathed an hour after cheesecake." God, that was so stupid. "Joke! You know, just," she silently howled at the device, trying to burn out its motor with mind bullets, "a second." Well nothing for it now, huh? Sh-she could do this. This is what He had trained her for, right?

Shutting her eyes, lips pressed tightly together, she took the shivering toy, and with a low, guttural groan, sunk it deep within her depths, clutching with all the grip long hours of forced kegel exercise had granted her. No, not too tight. Just enough squeeze to keep it snug, where it couldn't be heard, or seen, only felt. She could do that. She could do more than that, with the right encouragement. Steadying her breath, she slowly got to her feet with barely a stumble, even when repeated sensation began to send electrical sparks up and down her spine.

It was something out of a bad sex comedy, but Katja would be damned if a bargain-bin bullet was going to defeat her. That was His sole domain. The silver, spotted leopard forced her head high, wiped the lone strand of drool from her lips, and answered the door with a bounding, bouncing, bit of motorized plastic trying to dislodge itself from her heat. "Hey Vicky. Oh wow, they really got you working tonight, huh?" BzzzZzzZzz.

The poor mouse was trying her best to balance four dresses, one set of stockings, and two pairs of pantyhose. "Low girl on the totem pole, I suppose. No worries, I totally got this. Umm, you know that robe comes with a cinch, right?"

Katja was impressed with the calm in which she gathered her robe together, tying it around her shapely form. "Sorry, came off while I was rubbing." Noting the pink blossoming about her coworker's cheeks, she amended, "The cramp, Vicky, rubbing the cramp." ZzzBbbzzZZz.

"Oh! Right, I forgot, 'the cramp,'" The mouse tried for a smirk, fumbled her wink, and instead just looked like an overly enthusiastic teenager on her way to her first, disappointing sexual experience. "Gotta rub those out when you can. I know exactly what you mean."

God save me. "J-just lay them over the chair, Vicky," Katja sighed, twitching as a jolt from below set everything internal to tumble about in precisely the wrong way, "I'll see to them." bRrrzzZzzzzzzrrrRr.

"Sure thing," Vicky bounced, as bubbly and bright as the toy currently turning the leopard's slick tunnel into a soppy, tingling mess. "Oh and Sheryl wants you. She says it's nearly time."

Katja barely suppressed a moan, feeling her own sweet trickle begin to slink a translucent trail down her inner thighs, causing them to clutch, which only served to intensify the internal shudder. "W-what? Oh, sure, I- I guess. Wait, nearly time for what?" rRrrRrrZzzrrrzz.

"She wouldn't say. Just said to get that girl's fine ass out here," the mouse's giggle overshot itself, and she had to repress the rest of it with her hands.

"Listen Vicky I-I...nnf, excuse me," Katja wiped a bit more moisture from her bottom lip, trying her absolute damnedest not to squirm. Then her distracted brain picked apart Vicky's comment, before putting it back to together. Suddenly, a cerebral light came on, and she clutched her coworker's shoulder. "Oh fuck me! Vicky, she doesn't have a paddle, does she?" rrRrrdrrBbrrzr.

Vicky squeaked, her eyes wide, then settling back down. "N-no, Katja, I promise. No paddles, or anything like that. C-come on, you don't think mama bear would do that, do you? Um, sweetie? Y-you're holding me kinda tight."

Sighing softly, her body swaying to the left where the internal sensation was guiding her, the leopard settled herself when the mouse gasped. "Oh shit, sorry. B-but I wouldn't put anything past that woman. Not tonight, at any rate." Finally, she managed a smile, "Alright, I got this. Go out there and tell the crew I'll be out in a few minutes. I-I've got to finish something real quick." rrrzzrrzrrrrrrr.

The mouse nodded, carefully pulling her shoulder from the leopard's grip, then burst into that irrepressible grin of hers. "The cramp? Oh sure, take your time. I'll stall for yah." Vicky rolled her eyes with a conspiratorial nudge, "Married women, huh? They've forgotten what it's like to be alone, haven't they?"

"Vicky, some women never know what they have, or what they've lost," sharing an enigmatic smile with her suddenly unsure friend, Katja ushered the mouse out the door, before crumpling in a heap, her back against it. Something flickered, burbled, and then slunk out of her quivering sex, coated in fresh, feminine lubricant. It spattered, sputtered, and then rolled to a stop against the heel of her foot, apparently spent.

"Poor little guy," Katja sighed, nudging the burnt-out toy with the toe of her slipper. "You really gave it your best shot, didn't you?" She smiled, picking the sphere up and laying a soft kiss along its glistening surface, catching some of her own flavor. "Not your fault. Someone much bigger got there before you. Still, I do appreciate the effort."

The frustrated leopard stood on knocking knees, carrying the broken orb to her purse as a reminder of things lost. With a sigh, every motion unfairly erotic, she began to hang up her coworker's clothes, leaving their nylons for later. Whenever an especially sheer bit of fabric brushed across her flesh, the quake it sent through her system was increasingly more agony, and much less ecstasy.

She was going to have to call Him, wasn't she? Not now, of course, but just as soon as she freed herself from her friend's clutches: tomorrow morning, tomorrow afternoon at the latest. She hated calling Him. It gave Him more power than He already had. Worse, it gave Him the option to say, "No." He never did, but the thought that He might was more than she could bear.

God, she hoped her coworkers hadn't polished off the whole bottle, or the cheesecake, for that matter. She was going to need a good bit of both.

***

By the time Katja stumbled into the common room, her internals had calmed into a dull, purposeful throb. At least it was manageable. It was not that much different than the background ache which had become her day-to-day. She could walk, flash her brilliant, amethyst eyes, and pretend to be in complete, and utter control of herself. She wondered how many of her coworkers might be thinking the same. How much of this was just a show for her benefit? Did they all have a Someone they could not bear to mention aloud, Someone that made all coherent thought evaporate into a confused mist? Or were they that Someone for somebody else?

The leopard leaned against the door frame, watching Irene and Vicky try and play a make-shift Jenga with an assortment of cheese cubes, while Elizabeth puttered about her phone, likely sexting a few of her less local admirers. Sheryl was the best of them, because Sheryl had a full glass of champagne to offer. Maybe they did, maybe they all shared unsharable secrets, each and every one of them. It was easier to imagine than she had first thought, but these days, wasn't everything?

"Lookit who decided to join us," Sheryl smirked, one hand on her hip, the other extending a welcome drink to the birthday girl, "thought you had fried yourself in the tub, trying to get Vicky's toy to work."

"Oh it's water-safe," Vicky chirped, causing Irene to arch an eyebrow as the blonde, buxom marten carefully placed a cube of Gouda to quiver atop a tower of cheddar and Swiss. "Err, said so on the box," the mouse muttered to her skeptical friend, before adding her hunk of Monterey Jack to their dairy fortress.

Katja laughed, reaching out for the bubbly intoxicant, ready to let it wash away all her unspoken desires. She had let herself get all worked up, tempted by the flimsy promises of a fickle night. This was all she really required. Good friends, something liquid that warmed the toes, while it tickled the nose, and a laugh unshackled by judgement or scorn. What more could any woman want, or need for that matter?

She had barely settled the cool glass in hand when a heavy fist assaulted their room's external door, sending Vicky and Irene into a fit of giggles as the walls of Cheddarcho came a' tumbling down.

"If that is a pizza, I am leaving while I can still make it through the portal." Elizabeth snorted, flicking her phone off, and shooting Sheryl an accusatory glance. As if it was the bear's fault that their British Isle-born coworker had developed an overwhelming addiction to New York-style cheesecake.

"Nope, I'm well stuffed," Sheryl grinned, doing her best Lizzy impersonation. Well, the best that could be managed without parting her robe so that her lush hip could sway forward, seductively. Turning to Katja with a sudden twinkle in her chocolate brown eyes, she tried to repress a sudden smirk, "You mind getting that, girl?"

"My birthday, and I'm last to bathe, last to cake, haven't even had a sip of champagne yet, and you want me to get the door?" Katja put on an air of mock-persecution, as she walked to gave the knob a twist, "I better get overtime for thi...!"

The white tiger, in a policeman's uniform and whose commanding frame nearly filled the entire doorway, ran an emerald eye about the frozen leopard, pausing to rest on the glass in her right hand. "Public intoxication, ma'am? Now you know that's a paddlin'."

"No, Y-you can't be here," Katja's eyes were wide, a shiver running up her spine. Her knees locked so hard, she might well have pitched forward, if not for fear of just Who might catch her when she fell. "Not here."

"I'm sorry ma'am, not my place to say," the smirk on the male tiger's lips said otherwise, "but we got a call about a naughty girl on the premises. Have you witnessed any indecent acts you'd like to report?" He took a step forward, the humid musk of him practically smothering the shocked leopard. One hand moved up, pressing firm against her chest, fingers twitching as though they were on the verge of turning a touch into a grope, while his lips breathed erotic warmth along her tingling ears. "Or maybe you committed a few indecencies that you'd like to confess."

"That's her officer," Sheryl called out, "we all saw her, and it was just awful. Girl was out drinking, breaking hearts, and just being a wild and wicked thing."

Irene agreed, laying a list of crimes at Katja's feet, some of which the leopard had committed, most of which would have been part of the beech marten's own rap sheet. Vicky had to be prodded a bit, not because she was reluctant to play, but because she was having a hard time not expiring in a fit of giggles. The petite, white cutie was obviously admiring the "officer" in a way that would have either gotten the poor mouse fined in the wrong circumstances, or spared a speeding ticket in the right ones. Elizabeth did not giggle, and she certainly did not join in on the play. What she did was simmer, biting along a wet, bottom lip, her eyes set to roam, her robe loosening, seemingly on its own.

"Guilty as charged," the white tiger purred, "Or should I say guilty as sin? Who wants to cuff the accused?" Pulling out the metal restraints, he tossed them to an eager mama-bear, before turning to shut the door, blocking off all possible escape.

Fuck me, fuck me, oh god, fu- no, it wasn't time for that. Oh god, please don't let it be time for that, Katja thought furiously, turning to Sheryl with a whimper, "W-where did you find Him?"

Sheryl simply laughed, pulling the untouched champagne glass from Katja, and handing it to Irene. "Lucky break, girl. Lucky for you, anyway." The married bear let her eyes join Elizabeth's as they wandered about the buff body before them, wearing a uniform that was either a size too small, or one he had simply outgrown. Still, he wasn't overloaded in muscle, nor were they sculpted beyond reason like some Adonis that had found his perfect mate in the mirror. Everything was just tight, toned, and seemed to be set to a predatory purpose.

"Damn lucky, girl," the bear repeated in a low mutter, shaking her head, while fiddling with the surprisingly real, yet had to be fake, handcuffs. "Found him out in front of the office, handing out business cards, and shaking what his momma gave him. Let me tell you girl, his momma was awfully generous."

Katja's shot an accusing glare toward the white tiger, only to be met by a look of such sure, confident swagger, she rebounded into a pout. "G-gah, i-it's just we don't know anything about Him, and mayb-"

"Kat!" The tiger barked, popping her nick like a whip, "Be a good girl, put your hands up, and let the nice, sexy bear cuff you."

Her peers blinked, looking at one another, suddenly a little unsure, until one by one, pink flares lit about their cheeks, and woos sounded from their throats. Irene went so far as to put a hand to her heavy chest, while Vicky's jaw dropped, and it was some time before she remembered to set it back into place. Elizabeth leaned forward, over the couch, her robe spread just enough that spilled cleavage graduated to a full nip slip. Only Sheryl kept her composure, though she had shut her eyes, and was whispering her husband's name, a dozen times over.

Defeated, unable to escape without revealing more about herself than she ever wanted these women to know, Katja held her wrists up, shuddering from toes to twitching nose, when the cool metal slammed into place. It was different being cuffed by someone else, not quite as damning as when He did it. Still, it was through His command, and that was enough to set the preheat between her legs to full broil. "N-now what? Mast- Officer Ta-" apparently she was on the verge of her own slips, which she bit back quickly, "So-sorry, didn't get your name."

"Officer Tau will do just fine," Tau winked, rolling his officer cap off and tossing it into the gaping mouse's lap, "And you are at my service." Mm, listen to those woos. He had not been appreciated like this in awhile. Most of his rendezvous with his favorite slut had been anonymous, dirty affairs. Oh there had been a couple of nights spent at her apartment, and once, when he had been especially hard-up, practically dragging the submissive kitten to his own. However, more often than not, they stole away to some hourly motel room, the kind you were afraid to black light, or found themselves in a graffiti-laden bathroom stall, where you hardly needed UV to see the stains.

"Now if Miss Sexybear will settle the prisoner down, I will attempt to give some service to these fine, upstanding female citizens." His potent green orbs found the New Forest beauty that was trying her best not to drool, "Music?" He smiled when the tall, shapely woman fumbled with what passed for a stereo these days. His smile went wider still when Sheryl set Katja down to squirm in a chair, not bothering to correct his use of "Miss."

Katja tried shutting her eyes, but when the music kicked in, she knew He would still be there when she opened them. She pinched the supple flesh of her inner thigh, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, but the dream would not end. There He was, where He absolutely should not be, on display, for all of them to see. And if they could see Him, they had to see her, right? Only, none of them let their eyes drift, utterly focused on the white fur at play, trying to turn a club dance into some form of strip tease.

The Man knew enough not to simply mirror the female strippers whose thongs He had stuffed, but beyond that, He seemed almost at a loss.

Not that it mattered. All He had to do was shake it, and let the howling women watch, when they weren't reaching up to pinch or tease. He scolded them playfully, but never really denied their touch. The Fucker was loving this, their attention, and something bitter began to heat within the leopard that had nothing to do with the gathering warmth between her thighs. S-still, it was gratifying as well. He was hers, after all, because a leash tugged both ways. Her coworkers were falling in deep, passionate lust for a Man whose rightful place was sunk deep as His lewd cock could go inside of his beloved pet. And that pet just so happened to be her.

A peculiar smile graced her lips, one that ran counter to the jealous, humiliated confusion that was burbling about her belly. She almost wanted to cry out, "That is mine, and you can look, and maybe you can touch, but you can't have Him; because He has me."

The leopard giggled a bit when her Tiger had trouble with His top. The hopeless Man had apparently found an actual uniform, and they weren't really made for quick relea- oh my! She joined the room in its collective squeal when buttons went flying, torn by a frustrated Tiger who was just not having it. He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, His fine chest rising and falling from sudden exertion. Her Master regained His composure, settled His stripped shoulders, and swayed sinfully toward Irene.

Tau flung the useless bit of shredded fabric to the side, reminding himself that authentic was not always better, while making his way toward the heavy-chested martin. He knew none of these women, beyond maybe Sheryl, and their relationship had been purely professional, in as much as his fake profession could be. What he did know was that the bear and the blonde could have competed in a MILF-off, and he was not entirely sure which of them would come in first place. But he definitely knew which would dominate the wet t-shirt competition. Thrusting his chest forward, undulating it so that every muscle had its moment to shine, he enticed the Dutch mammal to feel his hard, taunt six pack, which rippled at her touch. When the woman leaned forward to bite at his tummy furry, laying suckling kiss just above his navel, those large breasts ground so sweetly against his heavy package, he found himself considering a career change.

The low growl escaping from his slut was sweet music to his ears, and he backed away, hands moving down to catch his belt. He pulled it off with a sudden, feral flick, causing the leather to crack, and a mouse to squeak. Emerald eyes never quite leaving the amethyst beauty of his pet's own, he turned his firm backside to the crowd, dancing it toward the rodent who had nearly fainted. Athletic calves carried him down into a kneel, setting his bottom up and close to the woman's face, before he started fussing with his pants. Having learned his lesson from the top, he didn't try to force them to pull away like he might with an actual stripper's costume. Instead, he undid, and unzipped, slowly and with obvious purpose.

Another woo rose up, and he could feel feminine hands catching, and cupping his backside, pinching and squeezing what was offered in the sort of way that would have had a bachelor party out on its ear, but was generally more tolerated for the bride's crew. He looked over his shoulder, catching Katja's gaze once more, seeing the confusion in her face, the weakness in her features, the way her thighs were pressed together so tight, they might as well have caught fire. Down his pants went, revealing a black tong that was just as small for the tiger as that tight-ass uniform had been. He was beyond aroused, both from the attention, and the sight of his writhing pet, as bound by circumstance as she had ever been by red ropes.

Oh god, He was free. It was free! The cock that had invaded her dreams as surely as it had claimed every possible entrance to her body, was free.

Katja could see its hardness, pressing against his thong, threatening to burst forth at any moment: a great, reddish-pink monster with enough molten cream to claim every woman in the room. It peeked out of the edges of his struggling undies, and... damn, w-was there already a puddle of white at the center? When was the last time she had seen Him this turned on? She could not recall a date, but she could remember a feeling, a hard, insistent pulse of a feeling that had left the leopard unable to walk properly for a week after. As he pressed his backside to brush wickedly against a mouse who seemed perfectly willing to get her face as up in there as was feasible, it pulsed as though it were thinking about her.

"You know, luv," Elizabeth's voice sounded wet and wicked, tickling the fuzz of her ear. "If you don't want this lap dance either, I would be quite happy to substitute."

Katja fumed, "No, that's fine. I want it."

"Because that is quite a bit of man-meat we have in our midst. We would not want you to fall arse over elbows, just because you could not handl-"

"It's mine. He's mine, Liz!" Katja roared, "I told you, I want it!"

Vicky tittered, Irene cackled, Sheryl chuckled approvingly, and Elizabeth? She...? W-was that a satisfied expression on that smug pony's face? Katja's bound hands suddenly reached up, fully prepared to claw it right the hell off, when they were suddenly caught by a powerful, commanding grip.

"Well now, I do love a suspect who comes clean." Officer Tau smiled, lifting his sweet leopard up from the chair, until her robe threatened to come undone. "So that just leaves the matter of sentencing, doesn't it? I'm thinking a little public, corporeal punishment is in order. What say the jury?"

Katja squirmed as the chants of "birthday spankings, birthday spankings," devolved to howls, and heated laughter. Some of it even seemed a little forced, as though they were all toeing up to a cliff from which there was no escape, except to jump. Still, they had come this far, and some of them had been to bachelorette parties far friskier than this. Only, there was something about her Master, something that even her coworkers could pick up on. There was a warmth in the room, a humid, musky atmosphere that lent a sense of the taboo. It set them tittering, because wasn't that what made it all fun?

Yet, when they thought nobody else was looking, they glanced away, thinking impenetrable thoughts.

"Well there you have it," Tau smirked, plopping heavily into the chair his pet had occupied moments ago. It was still warm with her body heat, still smelled, even tasted, faintly of her. Of course, he had the real article right in front of him, but somehow he knew he could have sniffed out her chair even a week after she had left the room. Oh she was wet, she was wet as all hell, and she only had that robe to protect her. His hand slipped up her calf, sliding the edge of her covering upward, until his palm was mere inches away from a rear that radiated warmth, and a sweet, sinful nectar. "Anything the condemned wants to say? Any last confession to make?"

The silver leopard failed to suppress her groan, pushing wantonly back into her Master's palm, before one of her idiot coworkers shut off the music. Her noises no longer hidden by bad techno, she squirmed under a collective gaze. Finally, the coolness kissing her hind quarters clued Katja into her Master's question. "O-oh fuck, I-I'm not wearing any panties."

Vicky giggled, Irene bit her bottom lip, Elizabeth shrugged with that fucking awful smug smirk, and Sheryl tsked, shaking her head, "Damn girl, you are wicked."

"I didn't know we were having company, alright?" Katja hissed, turning to her Master with pleading eyes, "S-so with the robe on, okay?"

Tau shook his head, "Wasn't the confession I'm looking for, but I'll leave it up to the condemned. You can keep that fluffy shit on if you want, but that's hardly a spanking worth having. Somehow, I can't see that being enough for you." He slapped his upper thighs, encouragingly, "Now, lay yourself across my lap, so we can all see what sort of a needy slut you really are."

Damn, He knew, but then, He always knew. Sheryl made a face, and Irene was suddenly thoughtful, even shaking her head slightly. Vicky seemed confused, while Elizabeth was unreadable. To most of them, the S-word was a reason to back down, to assert herself, and put this guy, however hot he might be, in his place. To her, it was something else entirely. It was the next best thing to a leash. Surrounded by mixed company, the term was a mark of ownership that was personal, private, even when shared publicly.

None of these women were His slut, none of them could be, none of them but Katja.

She laid herself over His lap, shutting her legs tightly, though she was sure He could still smell her aroused flesh. At least it hid her upper thighs which were matted by a smattering of feminine dew. Katja rolled her hips over, just enough to set the edge of her robe to tumble, catching on her agile tail, which completed the flick, barring her bottom for all to see.

Cool, exposed, eyes everywhere, but only the approving green emeralds of her Master truly mattered. S-still, the others could not be ignored, and Katja trembled as she waited for the infuriating Man to finally make his claim. He waited, of course, giving her enough time to drown in her coworker's stunned expression, those who were not readjusting their own robes, seeing to damp panties that were becoming uncomfortable warm. Monday, they would laugh about what happened tonight, safe from its proximity, free to poke fun at their feline peer who had one too many, and gotten way too into the moment. But that was for Monday morning. Tonight was something else entirely.

Down came Tau's palm, slapping hard, and deforming the soft curve of the leopard's rump. It took the imprint of his hand, for long seconds, before it surged back to its normal shape. The cry from his sweet feline was as a heady mixture of delight, ass quivering sting, and humiliated squeal. He gripped her soft cheek for a moment, the edge of his tiger-claws digging, before pulling away, leaving her flesh to heat. Then his palm plummeted once more. Slap, slap, pop, crack, again and again, his hand made fearsome, brutal contact with her trembling flesh. Every pop, every spank, he paused just long enough to knead at her flesh, testing how warm, how red it had become in response, before he landed another blow to echo about the suddenly silent room.

When His hand came up for the tenth time, some of her feminine leak clung to His wrist. She was becoming a swamp below, a needy, sloppy mess that curled and jiggled with every flesh-molding assault. Oh god, they were watching so intently, breath caught and hips squirming. They could see everything now. They saw how she squirmed, how she gasped, how her legs kicked up, then beat forward, her entire body bouncing about His lap. They could see how her lower region was angled just so, the bulge of His thong, pulsing in response to every spank, throbbing where it had to be kissing her outer folds. If they slipped down to look, they might have noticed the slow grinding her hips had begun, pressing a wickedly aroused nub against His searing package, begging for it to pierce her, true and deep.

"H-how old do you think girl is?" Sheryl broke the sacred shell of their erotic communion, one hand up to her lips, biting hard on her index finger. "Y-you alright, Katja? Come on, err, Officer Tau, don't you think that's enough?"

"What do you think, Kat?" Tau leaned in, nipping lightly on the edge of his kitten's right ear. "Have you had enough? You know we're not counting years here, don't you slut? This is about that confession I want: the other confession. Why don't you tell me, tell them, what you really want?" He punctuated his words with another spank, this one short, quick, to the point. Then he melted it into an intimate squeeze, his fingers curling under, and between his pet's legs.

Katja whimpered, her hips rolling up and pressing to her Master's hand. She could feel two of His thick, inquisitive fingers sinking inside, making her inner heat come to a sudden boil. "I-I want Officer Tau to fuck me, in private, pl-please? I-I can have that, right?" She looked up, with damp eyes pleading to Sheryl, "I-it's my birthday. I get what I want, don't I?"

Sheryl blinked, then looked to Irene. They held each other's gaze for a moment, before the mama-bear finally shrugged, turning an encouraging smile to their feline friend, "Yeah birthday girl, you get what you want. That cost extra, Officer Tau?"

"Totally off the books, Miss Sexybear," Tau smiled, reaching up and pulling Katja's robe down. "Officer's discretion, and all that."

"It's Sheryl," the bear replied, though still not bothering to correct Tau's miss-take.

***

Katja rubbed her freed wrists, knowing they were not likely to remain so for long. Hell, He would have probably left the cuffs on had she not pointed out the difficulty of removing her robe while bound. With it laying in a heap, her shapely, well-toned body on full display, she arched her back in a stretch, pulling one leg up tightly against her sensual shape, till her toes pointed skyward. Mmrf, she could taste herself in the air so thickly, she might as well be spread-eagle.

"Which one is the BBC pony?" Tau asked, latching the door. He considered pulling a chair over to wedge it closed, but that could lead to a panicking workforce. Besides, it was a fire hazard, and having so recently been in the protect and service industry, he figured he owed them some consideration.

The leopard's left eye twitched, "That would be Liz. Why?"

Tau laughed, knowing it wasn't really jealousy. Katja had some idea of his past conquests, and she had come to grips with them in the same way he had come to grips with every inch of her shuddering form. Still, every now and then, she bared her fangs when one of the club girls got too close. It was cute, so long as he was around to pry his pet, and the soon-to-be eviscerated woman, apart. "Because apparently she leaves her phone number on her panties," the tiger held up a pair that had been pressed into his hand while he was still carrying his playmate atop his shoulder, toward the master bedroom.

"That limey, skeeving...," Katja stood, claws out, making her way toward the door. "Give those to me, and I'll shove them so far up her cooc-" Her eyes went wide as those same panties found their way around her muzzle, muffling her words. That was fucking unfair and He knew it. She was in her right, Liz deserved a beating, and literally rubbing the leopard nose it in the pony's crime was just cruel.

"Take a deep breath, slut," Tau purred, "Smell that? Taste that? That's a woman gone round the bend in arousal. You think there is any woman she envies more than you, right now?" Fingers pressed the damp fabric between his pet's lips, until the edge of them found the feline's reluctant tongue. "This is her new fantasy. Hell, it's all of their's, all hand-crafted, served up nice and hot."

Katja stumbled backward, eyes fluttering, cheeks bursting into a fine sunrise of crimson hues. He walked her back toward the bed, pressing Elizabeth's panties until they filled her mouth, making it impossible to escape the other woman's flavor. But He was right, they were drenched with the pony's juices, and her tongue became heavy with Liz's spill. Her lips closed over the make-shift gag, her body shivering as the Tiger spoke, until the back of her calves hit the bed, and she found herself tumbling onto it.

"See, at first I didn't know what to give the woman who had everything." Tau shrugged, "Apparently that's a thing. Then it hit me, I'd give my slut this one chance to show her everything off."

Tau stood over his pet, stretching powerful muscles, one hand sliding down to slip between her legs. Every other word came with a press of teasing fingers, spreading the inner depths of his shuddering possession. "We're going to do all the stuff they want to do. That's my gift, for my favorite kitty Kat. Tonight you live out the fantasy that all of your coworkers are going to be having while rubbing their cunts raw."

He left his pet to quiver on the bed, licking her sweet essence from his fingers and where the excess had puddled onto his palm. He considered the pile of satin sheers, still bunched about the desk chair. "Perfect. I was a little worried that we'd have to make do with just handcuffs and a belt." Tau lifted a pair of the worn pantyhose, still smelling faintly of the day's activities and the woman who wore them. "Just eyeballing the sizes here, and given Liz had something scrawled on her hip, I'm guessing these belong to the others."

Turning back to his playmate, he was proud to see the pony's panties still where he had left them. "Not quite as sturdy as the stuff we're used to, but I think the naughty factor cranks them up a bit. Also, you'll have to be careful not to rip them, won't you? Can't have them wondering what you did with their nice nylons while getting that pretty pussy pounded."

The leopard shuddered, chewing nervously at the panties in her mouth, muffling her embarrassed whimper. She couldn't bear to meet His eyes at first, curling up into an obedient ball as the weight of Him pressed the bed downward, pulling her toward him by gravity as surely as desire. Katja raised her legs without command, already lost to His hunger, preparing herself to be bound into familiar positions with unfamiliar bindings.

She felt Sheryl's smokey pantyhose wind about her calf and thigh, around and around, till the runs the mama bear had cursed were spread wide as the nylon stretched along one, frog-tied leg. The scent was faint, the warmth of their owner even more so, but she could have sworn the other woman was in the room now, watching them with those chocolate eyes, offering support even while judging their excess. Irene's sun-tan hose was next, looping about Katja's other leg, flavored as much by the men interested in the MILF's heavy chest, as by the woman's scent. It must be a new pair, as the warm nylon was tighter than the bear's. With it in place, the blonde was suddenly there too, always encouraging, no matter how wicked the pleasures indulged.

He was right, the stretched fabric wasn't as sturdy as their usual ropes, but neither did it dig so deep. It was a softer hold, as though her peers were present, pressing her legs together, before spreading them wide for her Master's use.

Vicky came next, her short stocking less useful, but more heavily perfumed. Their touch was light, tentative and skittish, not quite ready for what was to come, but happy to be a a part of it. One of the mouse's stocking was wrapped around Katja's head, pressing Liz's panties into an inescapable, wet gag. The other looped around the silver spotted leopard's heavy breasts, tight as it would go, and tied off at the end, so they bounced forward, heating at the edge where circulation was not quite cut off, but threatened.

Tau leaned back, always enjoying the sight of his slut, properly restrained, prepared for his use. "Normally I'd have you choking on cock tonight, to get the festivities going, but we don't want the women outside thinking they have to bust in when you start squealing, do we?" He laughed at her embarrassed glare, her cheeks as bright and warm as he had ever seen them. "Feels like we have company, doesn't it? I can just about smell them, but you? You're tasting those women, aren't you? They might as well be here, seeing how you squirm, just how soppy wet this mess has gotten," three fingers this time, followed by a forth, working deep within his pet's dripping heat.

"'Course, I can't let them have all the fun," he smiled, lifting the cuffs from the side of the bed, and catching them around her right wrist. Dragging her arm up, he looped the chain around a spoke in the headboard, then reached down, gripping her left arm. He brought her left hand down, letting her feel just how thick and hard he was, using her grip to fish his slick cock from his thong, pulling it free with a wet, muffled groan. Tau's shaft pulsed against her palm for a minute or two, before he lifted up a bit, grinding a freshly formed pearl of pre into her palm. Then, cradling his creamy gift in her left hand, he pulled it up to be cuffed to her right.

Katja moaned into Liz's panties and the added flavor of Vicky's stocking. As her Tiger bound her wrists around the headboard, the weight of His toned body pressed hard against her softer curves. She could feel the heat of His chest, the beat of His heart, a great, lumbering furnace that would have surely answered Blake's query. When He slipped back down, He pressed warm lips to her forehead. It was a simple, reassuring gestured, giving her just enough strength to endure what was to come.

She gasped, arching upward as she felt His belt slide under her body, the rough leather digging hard into her hips. He set it around her plump rear, and then over her thighs, creating twin leashes, or more accurately, a black leather rein. He gave it a tug, making sure it was strong enough to bring her body downward, and was satisfied when it supported her entire weight, if uncomfortably.

He asked if she was ready, but all she could do was moan a muffled, "I never am."

Tau wound the edges of his belt around his hands, then gave a short, sudden jerk. It slammed the thick, leaking tip of his red cock into her folds, though his aim was a little off. Slapping between too-slick lips, it was all too easy to just glide forward, kissing her plump nub along the way. He reared his hips back, making another go, slamming forward, pressing that thickness home, and finding a welcome wet that gripped his head with a greedy gulp. She swallowed his cock so easily, he could only smile. "Slut's eager tonight, isn't she?"

The leopard grunted, hands around the headboard, pulling on it until her body slipped upward, releasing an inch of the Tiger's cock. She glared at him with a bitter mix of shame, and impossible arousal. She might have tried to spit the gag out, had He not suddenly pulled her back to Himself once more. That wicked belt dug into her well-abused bottom as she was pulled down. Nnnf! The air was nearly knocked out of her, stars twinkling about her bleary gaze. N-no, not yet, she pulled back again, using her hips and hands to tug that fearsome cock nearly out of her sex. But then He was there again, yanking her body violently downward, onto a engorged shaft that stretched her inner walls, hitting spots within that no man, no toy, ever had.

"Mm, I do love it when you're all into it," Tau grunted, "Never could fuck a perfectly passive girl; could never get the hang of it." Up she pulled herself, though weaker this time, her body shuddering from exertion and a rising delight. Down he pulled her, pulling her right where she was meant to be, right where he wanted her, resting the full thickness of his swollen hilt inside of her slick sheath. "Bounce, writhe, run if you can," He slapped his hips forward, encouraging Katja to pull herself up once more, but she only went so far, a full half of his cock still pulsing within. "You know I'll find you, catch you when you fall."

Katja cried out, something internal twisting itself up in a knot. It was the way He tugged on her leash, the tightness of His collars. They were as inescapable as He was insatiable.

Slam! He was fully inside of her once more, His cock grinding a fat head against her deepest, most vulnerable depths. She pulled up, not to get away, but to squeal in ecstasy when he tugged her down, laying incontrovertible claim on her body and everything that came with it. Slam! Her body shook, and the shame of her coworker's garments puddled into a rich lubricant, one that greased her inner cogs till they were ticking with a rising, molten pleasure. Slam! His body pressed against hers, biting her shoulder, hard enough to hurt, before moving his attention downward, catching one bounding breast in the grip of a needy suckle.

Slam, slam, slam, slap, up and in, deep and wild, had she really thought He would say "no" to her call? He was as addicted to the grip of her sex's wanton spasm as she was to His throaty thrust. Again, He was inside of her, their body connected as much by sweat, and need, as by the thick, dirty dick that dribbled slick semen inside of her tunnel, threatening to white wash her womb.

"Happy," Tau grunted, "birthday," he thrust again, grinding his cock forward, using the ends of his belt to deliver short, brutal slaps to the underside of her breasts, "to you." Pulling back, all hips and grunts, he repeated the phrase, "Happy, nnff, birthday, mMm, to Katja!" Every syllable, a new fuck, tunneling with a swelling cock that tightened until he thought it might burst. It was certainly about to. "Happy birthday, toooOo nnnnnf," he never quite finished, which was just as well, as he certainly was not about to pay for the rights to the song. It hardly mattered, his erupting cock finished for him. It sputtered and spattered, jerking forward and releasing a sticky spray of tiger seed right where it was meant to be.

The leopard didn't quite cum with him, but that was because she had endured a half dozen miniature explosions through-out His off-key rendition of a yearly classic. When she finally felt that hot flesh sizzling as it swelled, pumped, and plumped with cream delivered deep as it could possibly go, she thought she was over the hump. Then, something within lurched up, arching her back, spreading her toes, causing her to tighten her tied hips around her Master's sides. It burbled up and out, and then flushed through her sex, causing her release to churn out a mix of her fluid and His own, to dribble in a boiling sear down his lap and over his balls. Eyes shut, she road out the extended wave of bliss, riding on a night's worth of frustration, humiliation, and final satisfaction.

Panting, Tau laid on top of his pet for several moments, letting his heart settle, and the room slow its spin. He considered the woman underneath him, struggling to breath in her gag, her tight eyes, dripping fresh, liquid salt.

Eh, fuck it. He'd buy the mouse a new pair. Reaching up, Tau sliced through the stocking with a sharp nail, letting his love gasp as she spat out panties and nylons in a choking cough. When her beautiful, amethyst eyes finally opened, he reached down, pulling her to face him, kissing those tortured lips hard before she could say anything. He leaned back for a moment, admiring the violet shimmer of her eyes, before he caught her lips yet again, his tongue pressing hers down, then flicking it up, indulging in a shared taste.

Finally, he broke the kiss when his lungs felt tight, brushing some matted, white hair from her brow, "G-guessing you blew out a few candles this evening. Think you got what you wished for?"

Katja blinked, before laughing, shaking her head and replying in a soft, sultry purr, "Mm, no Master. Wishing is for getting things you want. I figured I'd just wait for you to show up, to give me what I need."

The End.