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Finding Yourself Beyond Purgatory

By Rix Prime

Chapter 1 – Letting Go

The otter's mouth opened in a pained cry, her pink tongue sticking out, as the cane struck her rump. She jerked and writhed in the bindings that had her held down against a spanking bench, but the flexible metal cabling attached to her collar and the cuffs on both her limbs held fast. Another strike of the cane drew out another cry. The paunchy old wolf that had delivered the strikes stepped in front of her and leaned down to kiss the otter's nose. Words were exchanged and she nodded, tears streaking her pink cheeks. The wolf patted her cheek and then kissed the otter's nose again before stepping behind her. One after another, more strikes of the cane came, one or two right against her mound, and each time her mouth opened and she writhed.

When the old wolf finally decided he was done, he quickly pressed the thick and broad tip of his cock under the otter's upraised tail and began to press in, squeezing her rump with the hand that didn't hold the thin cane he'd been using. The otter shuddered, but pressed back against the wolf as much as she could, trying to make the position easier for him. She asked him something, tears still coming from her lips, and the old wolf laughed then nodded. Dropping the cane, he took hold of the otter's hips and shoved himself forward with punishing force, driving himself in to the top of his knot in one thrust. The otter's lips parted, and she let out a pained scream.

Not for the first time, Cherry wished he could hear that scream, but he was a floor above the wolf and the otter, and a floor-to-ceiling glass panel separated him from the huge chamber within. The wolf and otter were regulars, and the things he'd seen them do had fueled many a sleepless night. The young caracal had found Purgatory a few weeks before and had been fascinated by the sight of the Inner Circle, a club in the club, where dozens of individuals, covered head to toe in latex, served the patrons in every way possible, from basic drink service to much more carnal servitude. In another part of the room, a large, hulking tiger in bright purple latex was in the process of mounting a mouse who had a look of utter bliss in her eyes. Cherry rather liked that there were tops on offer in the club, too, something he'd not heard of an establishment like the Inner Circle providing. But who was he kidding? There were no other establishments like it. Sunk into the floor, the place was encircled by huge glass windows that looked on from Purgatory. The glass was apparently one-way, or he'd have been able to see into the office that was directly opposite where he was standing.

Cherry ran his fingers through his crimson-red headfur. It was the one act of rebellion that he'd managed to get away with. Even at the age of twenty-two, a full adult literally everywhere, his family had been relentless in making sure that every single member of the family presented a so-called decent and proper image. Pretty much everyone fell in line easily, because if they didn't, they were immediately disinherited and cut off from the family fortune. Going down into the Inner Circle was out of the question. If someone saw a member of the Raleigh family of caracals down there, distinctive for the stripe of white that started at the neck and followed the spine to the tail, there would be scandal. So, he came here to watch and get some sort of vicarious pleasure out of it. There was so much he wanted to try, to feel, to experience, but it would be too risky by far.

“Excuse me, sir?" came a voice at his shoulder, making the caracal jump in surprise, his tufted ears twitching and swiveling toward the speaker. He turned to look at the speaker and let out a surprised sound. It was one of the bartenders from the Inner Circle, a slender squirrel that he'd watched ply their craft. Like all the employees there, he was covered in latex from head to toe, in his case that of midnight black. It was the first time that Cherry had gotten the chance to really look at one of the outfits that close. The detail was incredible, he had to admit, and there didn't seem to be any seams at all. His sheath even had latex dipping into it. It was so tight that it seemed to move like a second skin on the squirrel. Cherry let out a sigh, wishing he knew how the outfit would feel on him.

“Ah, sorry, ah, what? Is there something you need, uh…" Cherry stammered, not sure what to call the squirrel. Unaware he was staring, he took in as much detail as he could.

“Kel, my name's Kel," the squirrel said. The inside of his mouth, at least, wasn't latex, Cherry saw, though some part of him had expected for some reason that it would be. “The boss wants to see you in… her office. Is it her? I think it's her today. Sometimes confusing. Especially when she flits back and forth multiple times a day. Either way, if you could make your way over to the office? She doesn't bite unless you want her to. Oh, and you can do more than just look if you want."

Trying to work his jaw and formulate a proper response, Cherry stared at the squirrel. Curiously, he kept his huge red tail uncovered, though many of the others didn't. “Me? why me? I just stand here and watch. I'm not late on my bar tab. What's up?" He rather studiously didn't take the invite the squirrel offered, a bit too embarrassed to be called out for letting his gaze linger.

Shrugging, Kel just said, “Hey, I don't ask why, I just do. So I did. Gotta get back to work, have a shift." Before Cherry could say anything, the squirrel had disappeared into the crowd, headed for the stairs that led down into the Inner Circle.

For just a moment, Cherry considered declining the invite, but his curiosity had been piqued. He really had no idea what the owner could want with him, and the squirrel's uncertainty about them was even more intriguing. “It's 'her' today…" the caracal murmured to himself as he made his way through the club to the set of double doors that led to the office that he'd often wondered about.

There was a tall jackal in a tight fitting muscle shirt and jeans by the door, one of the security staff for Purgatory. As he approached, Cherry thought for a moment that the jackal was going to stop him, but instead he found the bouncer opening one of the frosted glass doors and nodding deferentially to him. “Uh, thanks?" Cherry said and stepped through the door.

The office was huge, filling the entire wedge of the circle that two opposing pairs of glass doors blocked off from the rest of the club. The walls were all seemingly one-way glass, including the doors. “Guess I know how I got noticed," Cherry murmured. The floor was covered in a soft blue carpet that he expected would feel wonderful on bare feet. Near the back wall was a huge desk with three chairs in front of it that looked like they would actually be comfortable to sit in, and behind it was an almost throne-like office chair that appeared to be leather. There was a comfortable looking couch situated right in front of the glass that looked down on the Inner Circle, offering a much more relaxed view of the carnal acts taking place within than he'd found in Purgatory. Without thinking, he took a step toward that window, drawn to it out of force of habit.

A voice came from behind Cherry, “Sometimes I just sit on that couch and masturbate while I watch. I really do love watching all of it." Cherry spun around, sputtering a bit, and got his first look at the owner of Purgatory and the Inner Circle. Standing only a few metres away, having seemingly appeared out of nowhere was a tall red fox vixen wearing not a scrap of clothing, showing off every inch of her plump and curvy frame. He found himself peeking down to where a splash of red fur highlighted her mound. “As, I think, do you," she said in a smooth, musical voice. She had a faint accent that Cherry couldn't seem to place. When he looked up, he realized that her eyes were a deep emerald green rather than the usual burnished gold hue.

“Ah, I uh, yeah, I ah, I do, uh," Cherry stammered, aware that he'd, again, been staring a bit too long. The vixen laughed and took a few steps toward Cherry, reaching out to touch his cheek. He let out a surprised mewl and felt himself pressing into the touch before he was even aware he was doing it. “You um, you're naked."

“I'm quite aware. Your observational skills are impeccable." She gave out another laugh, then took the caracal's hand and led him to the couch. “Sit with me? I have some questions, and perhaps an offer for you." Without waiting for Cherry to respond, she seated herself on one end of the couch, leaning back against the armrest. One leg was lifted up on the couch, the other hung over the side, with her tail lightly thumping on the carpeted floor. It was obvious that she was showing off her mound and the silver ring that pierced her clitoral hood.

Swallowing noisily, Cherry sat down on the other end of the couch, happy to be able to hide the bulge that threatened to show in his black slacks. “Ah, do you greet all your guests like this?" he blurted out suddenly, then flattened his ears against his skull.

The vixen shook her head, “I greet my guests as I think they should be greeted. You obviously appreciate a woman's body, so I figured I would let you see everything. Of course, you watch the men when they're mounting each other, too, don't you? My name, Charles Raleigh, is Misha."

Cherry felt a lump of fear and disappointment form in his belly. She knew who he was. Who wouldn't, though? Anyone with connections would recognize him as being a Raleigh by his white stripe and his crimson-dyed hair would further identify just which one. He slumped and took a look out over the Inner Circle, taking in the sight as if it was going to be his last. He wondered if someone had noticed him at Purgatory and told someone in his family. “What do you want, ma'am?" he asked, voice flat.

Misha frowned and reached over to squeeze his thigh, making Cherry squeak in surprise. Softly, she whispered, “I want for you to tell me what you desire. What about all that down there fascinates you?" She stood and stepped around the coffee table, standing less than a quarter of a metre away from the glass.

Cherry sighed and tore his gaze away from the sight of Misha's plush rump and looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap over the bulge of his swelling sheath. “That's… really all you want? Fuck… I didn't expect that. Honestly, moment I knew you'd recognized me, I was expecting… I don't know. A message from my family that I was hanging around with the wrong crowd. Or some sort of subtle kind of blackmail. It's happened before. Went to a club once that had… things like that…" he gestured toward the window. “The manager was a sleaze. Talked about how he'd hate for mommy and daddy to know their wayward scion was in a place like his. Hell, when I found Purgatory, I was happy that it didn't have the same feel or I would have left. I kind of loved that about this place. So much sex, even up in Purgatory, but none of it feels seedy or creepy. It feels natural."

Misha turned and faced Cherry, a sympathetic expression on her face. “Oh, my dear Charles. So lonely isn't it? All the social progression in the world and beyond never entirely erases the stain of old money. I had hoped that the proteus plagues would have eliminated that, but here we are."

Cherry fidgeted with his hands a bit, confused by the way Misha had mentioned the plagues, almost as if she'd been there for them. He met her gaze and murmured, “Only people who care about my family name call me Charles, ma'am. Call me Cherry. That's what I want to be called."

“Cherry Raleigh," Misha all but purred, and Cherry felt a strange resonance in his mind as she said it. “Yes, that feels right. You're right. Your name is definitely Cherry." She smiled and stepped back around to sit on the couch, but this time it was on the caracal's side, close enough that her bare thigh was up against his own. “Don't hide yourself away, Cherry. I have no desire to know the Charles Raleigh that the world and your family expects you to be."

Cherry let out a long, low sigh and leaned back, his hands falling away from his lap, letting Misha see the effect she was having on him. The vixen's eyes sparkled and she laid a hand on his lap, squeezing his leg just above his knee. He wished that he could feel those fingers on his bare leg instead of through black khahkis. “You know," he said softly, “I do want to work with the family business. It's why I don't just fucking throw it all away. I couldn't care less about what the money could do for me. I'm a good Raleigh. I've got a damn good mind for business. It's been as much a part of my life as high school was. I've got a full ride to Avalon's Business program. When I take hold, when I take charge, though, things are going to change. All that money, all those assets, I'm going to do good with them."

Misha was nodding along with Cherry's words, and when he finally paused, she said, “That's why you don't go down there. Join the Inner Circle. Why you've rebuffed the advances I know you've gotten. Because it's alright to find yourself here, always watching, but no respectable Raleigh would participate, even up in Purgatory. It would be far too… hmm, what's the word…"

Cherry finished the thought and said, “Uncouth. Scandalous. A Raleigh's above all that. So while I want to, wish I could just lose myself down there, I can't. Because even though I'll be able to change things in ten, twenty years… right now, I can't afford to."

Misha's sudden smile was beatific, “There we go, Cherry. What do you want? What fascinates you, what would you do if you could? You can tell me, my dear."

For nearly a minute, Cherry considered what to say. Finally, he stood up and took up the same spot that Misha had vacated. He looked down and grinned when he saw the otter was chatting with the bartender, Kel. Her wolf companion was elsewhere, curled up in a pit full of pillows with a ram and a ewe. “They're so… at ease. They don't care that they're being watched. They can be themselves. I want to explore and experience everything I can. I wish I could do that. It shouldn't matter that I want to get bent over and fucked by that wolf down there did with the otter. I should be able to get whipped and paddled, but nobody's going to do that to ME. Not a Raleigh. I… fuck. Misha, I haven't even gotten a blowjob before. Because I'm old money and I was always wondering if the girl or guy showing interest was attracted to me, or my family's money. So yeah, it's lonely, you're right. But at least until I'm in charge, it has to be." He hadn't realized how loud his voice had gotten, how bitter his tone had become until he all but shouted the last three words.

“Oh, my dear boy," Misha said behind him, “I had no idea. So you haven't ah. Not even once?" There was a note of amusement in her tone, but it wasn't the cruel sort. “That, my dear, is a shame. So you would go down there, then, if you could? You'd like to be as free and open as them. As my employees and my patrons."

Cherry sighed and turned back to face Misha, about to respond, but the words caught in his throat. The vixen had moved to the middle of the couch and was laying back with her arms draped over the sides of the couch. Her rump was right on the edge of the cushions, and she had her legs spread wide. He saw soft pink labia, now parted slightly by her position, and had an even better view of the gleaming ring that rested at the top of her cleft. She looked back at him, smiling, the look in her eyes eager and excited. And inviting. “Uh. N-never. I k-kissed… but that w-was a l-long time ago. Fuck, you are gorgeous, Misha." he blurted out, then looked away. He was intimately aware that his pants were tented, the tip of his tapered shaft pressing against the fabric of his underwear. He didn't try to hide it though, even though he normally would have.

The vixen blinked her eyes slowly, her grin widening. “There is nothing quite so wonderful as words of praise given from one's heart. Now, my dear Cherry. I think you know what I'd like right now, don't you?"

A soft, low moan spilled from Cherry's lips, and he found himself undoing the button of his khakis before he could really think about what he was doing. Hooking this thumbs under the waistband of the briefs beneath, he tugged pants and underwear both down, letting them fall to the floor. His pale pink tapered shaft jutted from his red-furred sheath, covered in rough little bumps. “You're sure?" he half-whispered.

Misha laughed again and shook her head, “'You're sure' he asks. Cherry, get the fuck over here and bury your face in my cunt and stop worrying. There's nobody watching. I'll tell you exactly what to do and how long to do it, and if you're really good and obedient I'll let you do something I haven't let someone do in a very long time."

The caracal stood there, naked from the waist down, just staring at Misha. A bead of pre had formed at the tip of this cock, glistening in the soft light of the vixen's office. His nose twitched when he caught a soft scent in the air that hadn't been there before. Soft, urgent, it teased at his senses and answered a question that he hadn't even been aware he'd been asking himself. Yes, the vixen really wanted him. He opened his mouth a little and drew in a deep breath of the vixen's desire.

“Mmm, good kitty," Misha murmured as Cherry stepped around and fell to his knees in front of her. She lifted her right foot off the floor and stroked it against his side, “Just start with one long taste, as deep as you can, bottom to top, hmm?" She set her foot down and reached down and spread the petals of her sex wide.

Cherry shivered as he knelt. Of all the things he could have guessed was going to happen as he'd been told that Misha wanted to see him, this would have been little more than a fleeting fantasy. Here it was, one of the only things he'd ever wanted for his first time; someone who wanted nothing more than for him to please them, to be with him. “Oh, my god," he whispered. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the vixen's soft-furred thighs. When he drew in another deep breath, mouth and nose both, the scent of her desire was so intense that it drew a low groan from deep in his throat.

“Mmn, sometimes, but not today," Misha said, giving Cherry an enigmatic little smile. For just a few seconds, he pondered what she meant by that, but the scent of her arousal was persistent. He pressed his face forward, feeling his whiskers touch first before he drew his tongue upwards between her spread labia, from the lip of her passage to the firm nub of her clit. Misha let out a strange sound, somewhere between a gasp and a growl, “Fuuuck, haven't felt a cat's tongue on me in too long."

That first taste of Misha would be something Cherry wouldn't forget for the rest of his life. Heady, heavy, and strangely tinged with a ghost of what he thought was rubber, he found that he really couldn't describe it. All he knew in that moment that he wanted to keep tasting it, and so he drew his tongue along the same path again, eliciting a soft moan from the vixen.

Drawing her hands away from her mound, letting Cherry take over, Misha urged him onward. “Just keep doing that, kitty. Spread me with your thumbs, get your tongue all over. Oh… oh, fuck, yes, like that. Ah, fuck, very good, just keep doing what I tell -AH- tell you." Her voice quavered a little, and soon she was letting out happy little squeals and gasps, her tail thumping against the cushions beside her.

As he drew his raspy tongue across Misha's sex over and over, Cherry was surprised to feel a deep, thrumming purr begin in his chest. It was so unexpected that he actually stopped what he was doing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so at ease that he'd begun to purr. “Is something wrong?" Misha asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“No, no," Cherry said quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. His ears were perked forward, and he could feel the almost sappy grin that had curled his lips. “Nothing at all. I'm… I'm doing alright?"

Resting her hands on top of Cherry's head, Misha said in a deep, husky tone, “Oh yes. Yes you are. Wonderfully. I think I'll want you to do this more." She laced her fingers through his headfur and firmly tugged his muzzle right up against her mound with a soft growl, “Keep going, kitty. Or no treat when I'm done."

Needing no more encouragement, Cherry began to lick at her labia again. His purr deepened as the vixen began to gasp and squeal again with each stroke of his tongue. The feeling of her fingers gripping him tightly and holding him against her made him groan. “Deeper, kitty, and m-more, ah, attention to my clit. Play with my p-piercing," Misha managed to gasp out between her sounds of pleasure.

With two conflicting demands resounding in his mind, Cherry decided to follow the first before the second, pressing his nose up against the metal of the silver ring and driving his tongue deep into her. He knew he'd done right from the way Misha tugged even more firmly while rocking her hips, grinding herself against his muzzle.

With his muzzle mashed up against the vixen, Cherry was suddenly aware of just how achingly hard his cock was. The moment he really thought about it, he faltered. He wanted more than anything to be burying it where his tongue was. He wondered how those soft, slick, and tight walls would feel wrapped around him and moaned.

Almost as if she knew what he was thinking of, Misha growled firmly, “No, kitty. You haven't earned that." Her grip on Cherry's hair grew tight enough to ache a little, making him mewl in surprise and shock. “You focus on me. Pleasing me. That's all you need to do. All you are supposed to do. You are mine right now." There was a sudden hard edge to her tone.

“Yes… s-sorry… yes…" he stammered, feeling a flush of embarrassment fill him. To keep himself from touching his aching shaft, he gripped the side of the couch. As he resumed his attention to the vixen's sex, he felt his purr returning. He closed his eyes and devoted himself completely to what Misha wanted of him, letting everything else fall away but the feel of his tongue upon her flesh, guided by her gasps and the grinding of her hips.

Cherry had only just begun to tease at Misha's piercing, firmly pressing his tongue on her clit, when the sounds of her excitement became higher pitched. The vixen cried out suddenly in a small howl of bliss while at the same time her fingers curled into fists, drawing a pained mewl from the caracal. Her tail began to thump excitedly on the couch. “Fuck… yes, fuck…" she gasped.

She ground herself against his muzzle, hunching over a little and letting out more yipping howls. Then, her whole body suddenly shook from head to toe and Cherry felt a small gush of her honey against his chin. She held him against her for a few more moments, her whole body trembling, a couple more trickles of her pleasure joining the first. Finally, she let go of his hair and fell back on the couch, panting.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Misha looked down at Cherry with a happy grin. “You, kitty, are absolutely wonderful," she said, her voice shaky. She stroked one foot against his side and looked down at him. She blinked her eyes slowly and then looked pointedly at his erection. “Cherry, what would you like to do right this minute?" Cherry opened his mouth, but before he could answer, the vixen shook her head, “Show. Don't tell."

Cherry went still, not quite sure if the words were the invitation that he thought they were. He opened his mouth, started to make a sound, then snapped his mouth shut. Misha had already made it clear that she would tell him what not to do when she'd stopped him from starting to paw himself off. Meeting her gaze, he rose to his feet, his tapered shaft jutting out proudly. With a low huffing sound, he leaned over her and moved his hips forward. At the same time, he gently caressed her heavy breasts, taking in the sight of her delightfully plump frame. He felt the tip of his cock brush up against the soft fur of her belly and let out a low groan. He could all but feel the warmth emanating from her mound against his soft-furred sack.

Still smiling, Misha draped her arms on the back of the couch. There was a curious look in her eye, a sort of dare. “God, I… fuck, Misha," he said, voice catching. “I just… I'm not going to l-last long." Silently, she lifted one hand off the couch and pressed her index finger to his lips. When he sputtered and tried to say more she shook her head. Instead, she moved her hand down and took his shaft in hand and guided it downward so that the tip rested at the lip of her passage.

Needing no clearer invitation, Cherry pressed himself forward and felt the head of his cock enveloped in tight, wet warmth. “Oh God," he groaned, then bucked his hips, tail raised high and straight with the tip curling slightly. He lifted his hands from her breasts and laid them on the vixen's shoulders, then,

in one motion, he buried himself all the way to his sheath, marveling at the way her depths yielded to him.

Misha let out a low, pleased sound when Cherry's sheath kissed her mound, again draping her arm back over the couch. “Mmm, again, not at this moment, dear, you keep calling me that," she said enigmatically, amusement colouring her tone. “You know you're the first I've given this gift to in three years?"

“Three years?" Cherry gasped out. With her tightness all around his shaft, warm and wet and slick, he let out a low groan. He wanted to hold on to the moment for as long as he could. Everything fell away from him then, all his concerns and worries, all his self-consciousness. He let himself feel nothing but her depths gripping his shaft, and began to rock his hips. As he pulled back, Misha gasped and made another pleased sound and gazed back into his eyes.

Cherry had no idea how long he was rocking his hips, but the whole time he found he couldn't look away from those deep pools of green. They held his attention as much as the sensation of his cock pressing in and then pulling back, over and over. When he felt the rising pressure of his impending peak coming, he didn't even hesitate before he was slamming his hips against her even harder and faster. He could somehow understand that Misha was taking as much enjoyment from him simply letting himself go completely as she was from the feeling of his shaft -and the tiny bumps that covered it- buried in her. Moment by moment he grew closer, and just before he hit his peak, Misha growled loudly and all but demanded, “Say my name, Cherry!"

Pure ecstatic pleasure washed through Cherry and he screamed Misha's name as he came. He held himself against her, buried as deep as he could, feeling his seed pulse from him in a dozen powerful spurts. She never moved her gaze from his, but she felt her flex and squeeze his cock deliberately, milking one last little jet from him. Suddenly able to tear his eyes away, he fell against her, gasping and shivering. He soon found himself nuzzling her chin and letting out a ragged little mewl. “Holy…" was all that he could manage to say.

Misha embraced him then, her arms coming down on his back and hugging him. Her voice deep and husky, somehow resonant and booming, she said, “Yes. That's what it is for me, dear Cherry. Holy. And when you're ready for it, I have another gift for you. Because we aren't done yet, not by far. It's time you knew what I am, and what I can do."

Suddenly, between one moment and the next, the soft fur against Cherry's cheek and body was replaced by smooth gleaming white latex. His eyes, half lidded in the afterglow, flew open and he jerked back his head in shock. The vixen's features were all there still, completely recognizable, but fur and whisker, black wet nose and gleaming white teeth were all the same shiny substance. He could even feel the change around his cock. She'd somehow become a little tighter, the honey of her pleasure suddenly more heavily scented of rubber. Her eyes though, were one single colour, glowing faintly with an inner light.

“It's time, sweet kitty, if you want it, to join the others in the Inner Circle."