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Mythical Pain
Thrag hated his name. He mused over just how much he disliked it as he stood outside Princess Rebecca’s doorway, waiting to be introduced to her. It wasn’t a particularly bad name for a coyote, and in some circles it even held deep ancestral significance among his people. Yet Thrag cared little for his ancestors, what good had they ever done him? Raised from birth in one of the largest cities he knew of, Thrag spent his life swaddled in civilization. A life spent learning simple trades along with the various human tongues, and like many of his family, he ended up a paid servant. A servant by choice and merely as a matter of employment, he often reminded himself. He was not indentured and he was certainly no one’s slave.
It was simply that in a city founded, built and controlled by humankind, Thrag’s people were often seen as little more then barbarians barely a step above mere animals. There were few jobs available for his kind, fewer yet that were relatively well paying. There were always mercenary jobs, and bodyguard jobs, but those tended to be a bit more dangerous then Thrag liked. To say nothing of the fact those jobs were most often taken by those skilled in combat. Or at least, those with significantly larger and stronger bodies then Thrag had. If a human was looking to hire a beast-person mercenary or bodyguard, surely they would hire some well built wolf, skilled in sword and bow, or some hulking bear who was like a wall of muscle.
Thrag was neither of those things. In fact Thrag was nearly the exact opposite of humanity’s perception of his people. Small, slender, entirely civilized, and very well spoken. Shrewdly intelligent as well, though he often hated to display as much lest he should anger those around him. Those who looked down upon anything that wasn’t human did not often appreciate being made to look a fool.
Thrag hated the perception humanity seemed to have of his people, though he could hardly blame them for it. With so many of his kind living in the wilderness, huddling in huts crafted from sticks and hide, attacking anyone who entered their territory, what other perception could be expected? He knew, of course, there was far more to their heritage then that. Growing up, his mother and father had tried to instill in him a sense of pride for his ancestry, but he’d never quite grasped it.
Despite what many in the city thought of his kind, Thrag did not mind working as a servant. When he was able to find a good employer, it paid nearly as well as did mercenary work, with none of the inherent dangers of that profession. Plus, housing and food were often provided which left him even more money of his own to spend in his free time. He certainly didn’t mind playing the servants role and letting people talk down to him if it meant a roof over his head, a warm bed to sleep in, and plenty of money to spend. Plus, it gave him a chance to show people that not all of his kind were simple barbarians.
Best of all, a good servant always had a chance to find employment with the royal family. Sure, the royals could of course demand servants work for them for free, but happy subjects were loyal subjects, and everyone who worked for the royal family was paid a premium wage. From the highest ranking military officer down to the petty guards, and even to the stable boys, kitchen servants, and garbage collectors everyone was paid for their services.
So, Thrag had been overjoyed when members of the Royal Court approached him to offer him a job as servant to the Princess herself. For the last few months he had been serving as a bartender at a small tavern that mostly catered mostly to the beast-folk, loathe as he was use that term. It was hardly a job he’d relished, but it provided him a place to sleep and a chance to converse with others of his own kind. Before that, he’d worked for a merchant family, but after a dispute with a rival family nearly bankrupted them, they could no longer afford the luxury of servants. Thrag had been having little luck finding another high-class servants job until the royal envoy surprised him with the offer. Apparently the princess was in the market for another servant of her own.
And what a surprise their arrival had been. As usual in the evenings he’d simply been tending the bar, passing out drinks and plates of food to various moping patrons, listening half-heartedly to their paranoid tales of war creeping ever closer to their kingdom and beasts slaughtering villagers in the far counties. Thrag had never been one to buy into rumor and hearsay, but it was hard not to get at least a little worried when patron after patron not only took the rumors seriously but went out of their way to worry everyone else with the latest twists the stories had taken. And just when Thrag had heard just about all he could stand, in walked a group of royal administrators clad in rich purple and gold tunics and black breeches with a whole legion of armored guards shadowing their every movement, and sizing up everyone in the tavern. Thrag actually thought they were there to arrest someone; probably the rather shady one-eared coyote who owned the place. Instead, they marched straight up to Thrag and offered him a job serving the princess directly.
Why they’d chosen him, he had no idea. He simply had to assume that whoever was looking into the matter on her behalf must have heard what an excellent servant he made. Thrag was versed in several languages, in cooking and cleaning, even a little skill in sewing and tailoring. Though he was not especially knowledgeable in the particulars of royal etiquette, he was a very quick learner, and he knew well enough how to be respectful and proper around those of nobility and royalty.
Of course, the truth was that Princess Rebecca was simply looking for a new Pet to join her dear Foxy in serving her, and in serving as the occasional object of her “loving care.” She’d specified that she’d like another male non-human servant, a companion for Foxy and herself, and she’d also requested this one be “cute.” Little did Thrag know it was simply the fact that he was a young male coyote with rather fluffy, well kept fur that got him the job.
Then again, had they told him the truth, he might have taken the job anyway. The initial offer of payment was significantly higher then he’d made in the last few years combined. And when the royal envoy had taken his stunned silence for a shrewd negotiating tactic, the offer was raised another ten percent. Needless to say, young Thrag took the offer on the spot, and spent his last day as a bartender getting good and drunk to celebrate his good fortune. A few days later, after overcoming the worst of his hangover, he’d paid his family a visit to tell them the good news.
They were all quite happy for him, though his older sister did make the rather strange comment that she “hoped he wasn’t planning on puppies”. She herself often worked for a noble family who’s daughter was friends with the princess, so perhaps she knew something he didn’t? Though when he pressed her about what she meant, she merely smiled and told him he’d just be too busy making all that money to have a chance to find a girl. Then she walked off laughing, and he wasn’t quite sure why.
However, now that the time had come and he found himself standing in front of the beautifully carved door that lead to the princess’s tower bedroom, he was starting to wonder. The nice fox he’d met who had guided him up here had only just gone inside and closed the door when Thrag heard the most horrific cry of pain. At first he was afraid that there must have been assassins laying in wait to murder the princess and her favored servant, and yet the massive guard standing near the door had only snorted impassively, as if such noises were a common occurrence.
And so Thrag found himself waiting at the end of the walkway that lead to the princess’s room, getting increasingly nervous. He had yet to be granted admittance and as the sounds of pain continued the big guard just kept staring at him. Thrag was glad his species did not sweat the way humans did or he’d have already drenched his brand new clothing as his anxiety built.
The walk up here hadn’t been so bad, but now the waiting was nearly unbearable. Thrag hadn’t expected to meet with his new employer directly this evening; rather he’d only come to register himself with the court officials and administrators. But the fox who served the princess directly had spotted him, and whisked him away almost immediately. Thrag regretted that he hadn’t yet caught the fox’s name, and he hoped the higher ranking servant wouldn’t hold it against him. It had been a brisk walk through hallway after hallway and up steep stone staircase after steep stone staircase.
The castle was an awe inspiring place to visit, and to think he would be living here soon. Everywhere he looked was something incredible. Ancient tapestries woven from silk that depicted detailed scenes of conquest and glory or beautiful landscapes at dawn. Antique furniture that was nearly as old as the castle itself. Delicate glasswork and pottery brought in by trade or by conquest, and as gifts from other kingdoms before the rumors of war had closed the borders to all but the wealthiest and most well connected of travelers.
The princess’s tower bedroom was accessed by an enclosed stone walkway that spanned the area from the upper levels of the castle proper to the tower’s higher tiers, and the walkway was nearly a work of art unto itself. Arched windows ran the length of the walkway on both sides, gold paneling divided the windows into several panes, and in the where all the panes met in the center the gold trim curled up upon itself and formed a flower, different in each window. A spiraling rose, an elegant lily, and so on. And even the walkway was covered in the same thick, lush carpeting that seemed to cover all the major hallways throughout the castle. Thrag had no idea how they kept it clean, and he half expected that would end up one of his many new duties.
At the end of the hallway there was a small antechamber just beyond the tower walls with only a single door in it. The door lead to the princess’s private chambers, and was cut from a heavy, dark mahogany. The entire door had been carved into beautiful art, designed to look as though it were covered in layer upon layer of overlapping vines with heart shaped leaves and blossoming flowers. There were carved roses, tulips, irises, lilies and many more that Thrag couldn’t identify.
Also in the small room there were a few simple wooden chairs with sky blue cushions, all in a line along the gray stone wall. Thrag thought about sitting down, but decided against it, he wanted to look sharp and well prepared the moment the door was opened for his introduction. Yet as that wait for that particular moment stretched on and on he began to question his decision. Not just his decision to remain standing but also to accept this job; it was starting to sound as though someone was being tortured in there.
It didn’t help that he was being glared at by perhaps the largest man he’d ever seen. Thrag was by no means a tall coyote, even a human male of average height stood taller then he did, but this human positively towered over him. And he looked as though he weighed nearly four times as much as Thrag did, not an ounce of which appeared to be anything other then muscle! And his whole massive frame was wrapped in links of chain and plates of steel that rustled and rattled every time the man shifted his weight a little. In one meaty hand he clutched the haft of a sturdy looking spear with a wicked looking bladed tip, his other hand rested upon the ebon hilt of a longsword strapped around his waist. An ax across his back and a crossbow at his shoulder completed his armament, at least as far as Thrag could tell. He supposed with the rumors of war raging on the kingdom’s outstretched fingers as well as the tales of mysterious beasts prowling the farthest reaches of both land and sky, the Court couldn’t be too careful with the safety of it’s only heir.
Thrag shifted nervously back and forth from one booted foot to the other, his bushy gray and tan tail twitching behind him at the sound of yet another long, drawn out moan of pain. He licked his muzzle, and glanced up at the towering guard. “Are you sure everyone’s alright in there, Sir?”
The guard, his face normally as still and impassive as that of a statue, finally cracked a smile when the little coyote worked up the nerve to raise his voice. “Everyone important, anyway. Hope you didn’t want puppies.”
Thrag gulped. There was that phrase again. He was starting to get the idea now, and it was starting to scare him. He wrung his tan furred hands together, and licked his muzzle a second time. “Oh, dear. Oh dear, indeed.”
Just as Thrag was contemplating turning right back around and tendering his resignation before he’d even started his new job, the door suddenly flew open. Too late to turn back now, he thought, and offered the princess his brightest smile, and his deepest bow. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” Thrag said, bowing as deeply as he could, golden eyes flicking to her blue-painted toenails. “Allow me to introduce myself- ERP!”
The grand introduction he’d spent so long planning for himself vanished into a startled yelp when the princess reached out and snatched up his hand, yanking him firmly into the room. “Oh, Foxy, he’s adorable!”
Thrag was caught off guard, and stumbled into the room, very nearly plowing the princess over. In the nick of time he managed to catch his balance and his footing as well. As he straightened up, he spotted the same fox who’d brought him up here. Though a bit brusque, the fox had treated him quite nicely and he’d already begun to like him a little bit. So it was quite a shock to see that same fox now curled upon the floor in a crumpled heap, clutching his groin in both hands, and crying softly against the plush blue carpeting.
“Do mind poor Foxy,” The princess said with a giggle, as she walked into the room, and the guard shut the door behind Thrag. “He’s having a problem with his testicles!”
“Oh dear,” Thrag murmured once more. For a few stomach-twisting moments, all he could think was “But I did want puppies!”
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Princess Rebecca opened her door to find the most adorable little thing she’d ever seen. A coyote, from the looks of it, though admittedly she wasn’t entirely up on her knowledge of the various sub-species. She quickly snatched up his hand, yanked him into her room and given that he nearly knocked her over with his clumsiness, instructed him to watch out for Foxy. She didn’t want her poor senior servant getting his tail stepped on by some clumsy newcomer.
Once she had him in the room, she turned around to look him over. The coyote was at least a whole head shorter then Foxy, no taller then the princess herself. Which seemed odd to her, were not the true foxes that Foxy had descended from smaller then the coyote’s own ancestors? Perhaps it was much like people. Her bodyguard was larger then almost everyone after all, or perhaps she was merely putting too much thought into it. Whatever the case, this coyote was a good deal smaller and more slender then Foxy. Rebecca reached out and squeezed his bicep. The coyote tensed up in reaction, and though slender, at least the muscles of his arm were firm and tight. That was good, she did not want a flabby servant. Scrawny was fine, so long as he was at least fit.
At any rate, being short and a little bit scrawny only made him that much more adorable to her. But what really did the trick was his fur. While she’d always imagined coyotes to be somewhat bushy furred, even scruffy or raggedy, this coyote was nothing of the sort. Instead, his fur looked silken and soft where it was short, and ever so fluffy where it was long! Even more so then Foxy fresh from the bath and a brushing. She reached out and gently grasped the soft, silken fur that coated his neck in thick, fluffy cascades. It was gray across his throat, shifting to a golden tan color towards the back of his neck. She tugged it a little, giggling at the way it made the coyote grunt.
“You’re so fluffy!”
“Yes, well, you see,” Thrag stammered a little bit. He didn’t exactly like having his fur tugged upon, but who was he to tell royalty to stop. “I’m not so sure I’d call myself fluffy, aside from perhaps my tail, and I suppose the back of my cheeks and around my neck. Mostly right after I’ve had a bath and washed it rather well, and given it a quite good brushing out. I wanted to look my best for the Court and Your Highness, after all.”
Oh, how good of you!” Rebecca smiled and patted his head between his fuzzy, tan-furred pointed ears. Thrag blinked, ears instinctively folding to the sides of his head as the princess touched him. “And so well spoken already! Dear Foxy over there was so coarse when he first came to me. Not that it was a surprise, coming off the street and all.”
“Not that you minded,” Foxy managed to mutter as he pushed himself up to a seated position.
Rebecca giggled a little bit, azure eyes sparkling with mischief. “No, Foxy, I certainly did not! My handmaidens only knew so many bad words to teach me, and my bodyguards are afraid of being tossed in the dungeons if they should get just the least bit inappropriate.”
Thrag licked his muzzle, glancing back and forth between the two of them a few times. He certainly didn’t want to be thrown in the dungeon. But he didn’t want to get kicked in the groin, either. And yet the princess didn’t seem to mind the fox’s apparent sarcasm, maybe she let him get away with a bit more when he was in too much pain to think about what he was saying?
Thrag rubbed his hands together. “I assure you, Ma’am, I would never become at all inappropriate.”
“That’s disappointing,” Rebecca said, teasing him a little. Confusion fluttered across the coyote’s gray and tan furred face, and Rebecca found the twisted expression endearingly cute. “I should hope you’d get highly inappropriate so that I’d have an excuse to kick you in the balls.”
Thrag’s gulp was nearly audible even to the guard standing beyond the door. “I should much rather not be kicked in the ba-” He paused, what if she wanted him to say “balls” just so she could say it was an inappropriately dirty word, and kick him? Yet, hadn’t she just said it herself? Better not take the chance. “I should rather not be kicked between my legs, Ma’am, it’s ever so painful.”
“Oh? Been kicked there before, have you?” Rebecca folded her arms beneath her breasts, causing them to press outwards against her blue blouse just slightly, a little more cleavage blossoming through the cut. Rebecca found herself greatly amused to see the coyote struggling to keep his beautiful golden eyes from lingering on her chest for more then a second or two.
“Y-Yes, Y-Your Highness,” Thrag stammered. “More then once.”
“Oooh, been a bad puppy, have you?” Rebecca asked with a wicked laugh.
“Not exactly,” Thrag muttered, pinning his ears back in humiliation. “But my older sister used to have more then a bit of a bullying streak.”
That made Rebecca laugh even harder. So, the coyote had a mean sister? How intriguing! “Oh, I should very much like to meet her some day.”
“Oh, God save us all,” Foxy muttered as he staggered towards Rebecca’s bed, and sat himself down on the edge of it. Rubbing his crotch with a black furred hand, he glanced over at the coyote a moment. “Poor kid just got here, Your Highness. Can’t ya cut him a little slack?”
Rebecca made a show of rubbing her chin in thought, then twirled a red curl around her fingers. “Of course I could! I’ll just go back to playing with you for the rest of the night, Mister Foxy.”
“Yer own yer own, Kid,” Foxy said quickly, closing his legs open and looking away.
Princess Rebecca turned her attention back to her newest acquisition, he was looking more and more nervous by the moment. She hoped he wasn’t about to wet himself. That would be quite unpleasant and not just for the coyote. If he did, she’d give serious consideration to having him tossed out upon his rump, along with the administrators who had hired him to be her new pet. Though as she stared so intensely at him, the coyote made a point to stand up even straighter, and to try and look as proper and courageous as he could. He certainly tried to make a good showing for himself even now that he was probably worried about the future health of his little furry reproductive organs. That was good, perhaps he’d not wet himself after all.
Then again, he was so cute that even if he did perhaps she’d keep him around after all. Such beautiful fur he had. Shades of lovely gray and soft tans like the beautiful sands of a sunlit beach that was littered with patches of seashells ground to soft dust by the ever-crashing waves. For the most part, the silky mercurial grays covered his face, his cheeks, and down over his throat. The tan coloration marked much of his neck, and wrapped up over the back of his head and his ears like a cute little hood. Another tan stripe ran down the top of his muzzle. Rebecca walked around him, and she saw that along the very back of his neck was just hint of black fur peppered in among there darker tan areas.
Walking another circle around him as he stood still for inspection, she admired his clothing; he was far better dressed then Foxy had been when he first arrived. When Rebecca first saw the fox he’d been in the filthiest, grimiest dirty black clothes she’d ever seen. The fox had looked and smelt as though he’d spent the last week in a dungeon. Come to think of it, Foxy had spent the last week in a dungeon when she’d first met him. The first thing she’d done after sparing his life was order her guards to toss him into the bath, and not let him out until he was clean as could be. His grimy old clothes had been tossed out, and she’d sent her servants in search of something more fitting for him to wear.
The coyote though was wearing nothing of the sort. Instead, he was in a smart, crisp tunic the rich, dark green color of leaves deep in the forest. Ebony buttons up the front complimented it well, and she was pleased to see they were all properly buttoned up. The sleeves ran a little past his elbows, allowing her to see that his arms were covered in pale tan fur, with just a trace of gray smeared along the inside of his forearms. The pale sandy colored fur ran all the way down across his hands and fingers, and just like Foxy the underside of his hands, his palms and pads were all soft pink skin. And to match the ebony buttons upon his emerald tunic, the coyote wore nice black breeches with gold buttons at the front and also at the back where they buckled around the top of his tail. It was good to see at least someone out there made clothes designed for the beast-folk that looked as nice as anything designed for humans. And while Foxy often strode around barefoot, Rebecca was happy to see the coyote in a new pair of black leather boots.
“Aren’t you just the clever dresser!” She smiled at him, and walked one more circle, this time pausing behind him to grasp his tail. He tensed up a little bit, tail flicking in her hand. “And such a lovely tail!”
Rebecca had to admit, the coyote had an even nicer tail then Foxy. Bushy and fluffed out and clearly combed with care, it was a mixture of all the other colorations she’d seen in his fur. Soft, reddish browns met sandy tans, met faintly visible strips of black, mingled with soft waves of gray. She ran her fingers through it, first with the lay of the fur and then against it. Rebecca was pleased to see that when she ran her fingers against the lay of the fur in his tail, the coyote shivered just like Foxy did. She couldn’t help but wonder if that was some sort of erotic sensation for their kind; having their tails toyed with that way.
Rebecca smoothed the fur of his tail back down again. “What is your name, Mister Coyote?”
The coyote grimaced. There was that question he’d been dreading. “…Thrag, Your Highness.”
“Thrag?” Rebecca made a face the coyote couldn’t see as she stood behind him. “Did you say, Thrag?”
“Unfortunately, yes, Your Highness,” Thrag said with a little chuckle. “It is a name left over from my people’s ancestral days, but I am well aware it sounds like something one would expect to cough up and spit upon the street.”
Rebecca burst out laughing at that, and released Thrag’s tail. She walked around to stand in front of him again, staring into his brilliant golden eyes. “It certainly does, Thrag. I think I shall call you something else. However, Coyote doesn’t have the same ring to as Foxy does, so perhaps I shall call you…” She pursed her lips, and hooked a coil of red hair behind one of her ears. “I’m not sure yet. How old are you, anyway?”
Thrag shifted his weight at the question, he hoped there wasn’t some sort of age or experience requirement for this job he was unaware of! “Eighteen, Your Highness.”
“Not more then a kit,” Foxy muttered, looking the coyote over from his spot on Rebecca’s bed. “Looks younger, too.”
Thrag scowled a little, but did not reply. It wasn’t his fault he’d grown up on the scrawnier side of his family. He almost bit his tongue to keep from spitting out an acidic retort. The last thing he needed was to anger not only the princess but her number one servant, as well. “My sister says the same thing,” he offered instead, trying to endear himself to them.
“She says you’re a pup?” Rebecca asked.
“Well, she used to call me puppy, when I-”
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Rebecca. “Puppy!” she exclaimed, her face brightening immediately, dark blue eyes shining. She balled her hands up into fists and shook them in the air as she gleefully bounced upon her bare feet. “Puppy, yes! Perfect! I shall call you Puppy!”
“Bahahaha!” Foxy burst out laughing before he could stop himself. Pinning his black tipped ears back, he licked his red furred snout and offered a half hearted apology. “Ah, sorry ‘bout that, Kit.”
Thrag put his head in one of his hands and moaned aloud, his ears drooping. “Your Highness, I really, really do not want to be called Puppy.”
“That’s a shame,” Rebecca said cheerfully. “Because Puppy it is! No more arguing, Puppy!”
“But puppy is -”
Puppy never had a chance to finish that statement, and Foxy never had a chance to warn him. Just as the fox was opening his muzzle to warn Puppy not to argue his new name, Rebecca ran out of patience. She stepped forward, grabbed Thrag’s shoulders, and viciously thrust her knee into the young coyote’s groin.
“AWWRRRHHH!” Thrag’s golden eyes exploded from their sockets and his muzzle went wider then it had ever gone as the human girl’s knee found and mashed both young furry coyote testicles against his pelvis. The force of Rebecca’s knee easily lifted the young coyote to his very tip toes, trapping his precious canine gonads in the middle, and flattening them out a little bit. The moment her knee dropped back out of his groin, Thrag dropped to the floor in a crumpled heap and began to cry.
It was the first time poor Puppy had been hit in the balls in several years, and he’d forgotten just how agonizing it could be. And given that Rebecca was older and more experienced at the act then the last girl who’d kicked him in the groin, it hurt worse this time then ever before. Even as the first sharp stabbing pains began to recede, his young coyote testicles throbbed steadily with a wretched, unbearable ache that quickly spread to his bowels, and his belly. Tears ran down his gray furred cheeks, his lips twisted up around his muzzle to bare his fangs in a snarl of male agony. For a few minutes he just lay in a heap, softly crying, but gradually Puppy began to writhe in pain. Squirming back and forth a little, rubbing his legs together and moaning to himself.
“Oooh! Oh, God, my balls! My balls!” His voice soon twisting into a long, canine whine. “Oh God above, it huuuuurts!”
“Of course it hurts,” Rebecca said, rolling her eyes and putting her hands upon her hips. “Your name is Puppy until I say otherwise, and I will take no argument. Now say it. Say your name.”
Thrag was unsure. He managed to pry his tear-filled eyes open and stare up at the girl who’d just kneed him, now standing so dominantly above the fallen coyote. Then he looked over at Foxy, who was wincing in sympathy. Foxy nodded and gestured in the air with his hand as if encouraging the coyote to go ahead and say it before he got hurt even worse.
Thrag finally sighed. He didn’t want to get kicked again, and really…given how much money he was getting paid, a little agony here and a little humiliation there was worth it. “Puppy,” he finally said with a whimper and a sigh. “My name is Puppy.”
“That’s right, it’s Puppy,” Rebecca said in glee. She hiked up her skirt a little bit, and knelt down upon the carpet. With her skirt pulled up, her bare, pale skinned knees ended up just in front of Puppy’s gray and tan snout. The plush blue carpet contorted slightly around the firmness of the woman’s knees, and Thrag couldn’t help but contemplate how that very knee had just contorted his own furry privates the same way. Especially when Rebecca edged her right knee nearer to his snout, and told him to give it a kiss.
“Go on,” the Princess urged, giggling. “Give my knee a little puppy kiss. You wouldn’t want to make it mad, or else it’s going to find it’s way between your legs again.”
Thrag whimpered, unsure what she meant. He half thought the princess was mad. Thrag knew she was isolated up in the castle, barely allowed out of her room lately, much less out of the rest of the castle. Perhaps that solitude had pushed her over the edge. But he didn’t want to get kneed in the balls again, and he was damn sure not going to give up on all that money. Let alone face his family to report that he’d given up on the highest paying job he’d ever had just because a girl had roughed him up a little bit.
Puppy pushed his muzzle towards the princess’s knee, and pressed his lips against it. Then he parted his jaws just slightly to let his broad pink tongue slide over the soft, warm skin of Rebecca’s knee. She giggled a little bit, squirming in place upon her knees. Thrag licked her a second time and a third, not sure how many “kisses” were needed to protect his testicles from another assault.
“That tickles,” Rebecca said through her laughter. She put her hand atop Puppy’s head, leaning over him and gently stroked his velvety soft tan ears. “Such lovely fur you have! That’s enough licking, now Puppy.”
Puppy pulled his head back from her knee, and curled up a little tighter. He was still clutching his throbbing canine gonads, waves of hot, belly-twisting ache radiating through him. Oh, God did his balls ever hurt. He whined in pain, and blinked a few tears out of his golden eyes. At least the pain would start to fade soon, he hoped.
“I should like to feel your testicles now, Puppy. I wish to see if they are as large as Foxy’s.”
“What….what?!” Puppy stuttered a little, lifting his head from the ground. “F..feel them?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “You’re the one who’s stuttering, Puppy, not I. Yes, I said feel them. Now, move your hands and open your legs. I shan’t ask again.”
Once more Puppy cast his gaze over to Foxy, who quickly nodded. If the little runt didn’t want to lose them, he’d damn well better open himself up for the princess! Whining in lingering pain, Puppy ****** himself up to his knees. He wasn’t really sure how Rebecca wanted to feel them, but he hoped she was going to let him keep them in his pants! Once raised up upon his knees, he spread his legs out a little bit, kneeling for the princess with his thighs as far apart as possible.
“How’s this?”
“It will do,” Rebecca muttered.
The princess reached out with both hands and grasped the waistband of the coyote’s black breeches, then hoisted them up sharply enough to make him yelp. The seam just beneath the golden buttons wedged right up between the young coyote’s testicles, causing the aching glands to bulge out against his breeches on either side of it. Rebecca burst out laughing at the sight, and promptly gave the twin ovals a sharp slap.
“Ooh!” Thrag yelped in pain, doubling over, balls aching with renewed pain. He found himself leaning against the princess, who was suddenly cupping his crotch in her hand to prevent him from doing the same. He whimpered, trembling against her for a moment, the warmth of her hand radiating into his testicles even through his breeches.
“If you grab them, I’m going to have Foxy tie your hands to my bedpost,” Rebecca said. Actually, that sounded like a lovely idea. Perhaps she’d do that later, anyway.
Thrag whined, and with a great deal of effort straightened himself back up. Pointed tan furred ears pinned back against his head, and his bushy tail was now quite limp behind him. “Yes, your Highness.”
Once that was straightened out, Rebecca slapped the little coyote’s balls three more times in quick succession. Each time made the furry creature yelp a little louder and jump a little more sharply, tears leaking from his golden eyes again. But he managed to avoid grabbing his crotch, mostly by balling up his hands into fists and holding them behind the princess’s back. After the third smack, his little coyote testicles were simply pulsing with pain, and now his furry scrotum stung like hell. The pain rang like the tone of a bell up into his body, left him trembling and groaning and wondering why the hell he’d ever agreed to this job.
Rebecca enjoyed the feel of the coyote’s testicles against her palm, even with his breeches between her flesh and his. She could still feel his private parts against her hand; it made her feel as if she ruled his very world. She waited until he’d calmed himself, and giving Foxy a smirk to make sure he was watching, she began to tease and explore the coyote’s gonads. She’d done the same to Foxy before, felt him through his pants, and it sometimes left her feeling just a little heated and damp as well.
Where Foxy’s testicles were rather like furry hens eggs, this coyotes were perhaps half that size. Puppy’s balls were closer to the size of large walnuts, shell and all, with one perhaps a hair larger then the other. Walnuts, and eggs. Rebecca rather liked those euphemisms. It made it sound as though the silly things were just hanging between their legs waiting to be cracked!
The princess isolated a single testicle through the coyote’s breeches; his left. She tugged it against his pants, making him yelp again, the little walnut sized egg outlined a bit more clearly against the black fabric. She held it there with her fingers, trapping it, and examining the silly thing. With her other hand, she flicked it sharply with a single finger. Much to her surprise, that single gesture made the whole coyote’s body jerk, and caused him to give the cutest little canine yelp.
“ARP!” he said, his whole furry face scrunching up, ears twisting to the sides of his head.
Rebecca flicked the trapped puppy maker again.
“ARRPP!” The reaction was nearly identical, but his yelp was even louder! And the pain she simply didn’t understand left the little fluffy coyote trembling. She even heard Foxy groan in sympathy from his perch atop her bed, and when she glanced over, she saw him cringing. Flicking them when they were trapped like that must be quite painful.
Giggling, the girl began to flick that single helpless coyote gland over and over! Snapping her finger into it from every angle she could. Thumping it again and again with her blue painted nail from the front, from the sides, and against the slightly rounded top and bottom of the little orb. Each time made the poor coyote yelp as another jolt of sharp pain tore through him, each harsh flick a little more painful then the last. Soon his yelps had progressed into little squeals, his left testicle screaming in protest.
Finally, Thrag couldn’t hold off any longer. The little coyote instinctively snatched at the princess’s hands to try and pull them away from his privates, which turned out to be a very, very bad idea. Rebecca hated it when someone did something she’d just told them not to do, and as soon as the coyote tried to grab at her hands, she simply pinched that helpless little coyote testicle with all she had.
Thrag gave a horrible shriek and curled up around her hand as the worst pain yet stabbed through his nut and into his bowels, belly and kidney. There was little in the world that hurt a male creature like harsh pressure on a testicle, let alone after that testicle had already been abused. As the princess pinched that tender orb till it started to flatten just a little, Thrag’s canine face scrunched up as though he were sucking upon a lemon that was not only exceptionally sour even by lemon standards but also exceptionally rotten.
“Bad Puppy! Very bad Puppy! I told you not to grab at yourself, and you certainly should know better then to try pawing at me!” Rebecca kept her grip tight on that nut, relishing the feel of the private coyote organ trapped between her finger and thumb, slowly squishing out a little in the middle to bulge at both ends like a rubbery grape. Thrag began to shriek and she had to raise her voice to be heard over his wailing. “I was only flicking it a little, surely it couldn’t hurt that badly. Certainly not as bad as what I’m doing now!” Rebecca twisted the organ till it was nearly sideways, then did the same back in the other direction, still pinching it. “And now here you are, getting a nut pinched. It certainly seems terribly painful, Foxy wails like a banshee the same way when I pinch one of his.”
Rebecca rather enjoyed the feel of that delicate yet important puppy-maker flattening out in her grasp. She also enjoyed the feel of the coyote curled up around her hand and arm, nothing more then a helpless ball of wretched fluffy male agony for as long as she kept her grip so tight. His fur soft and warm against her skin, his body shaking and writhing. He’d run out of breath to scream with so for the moment, he was just gasping, groaning and making unpleasant little retching noises.
“He doesn’t have as much to pinch as you do, Mister Foxy,” Rebecca said with a giggle.
“Oh no?” Foxy replied, his voice a twisted mixture of sympathy and pride.
“Not at all. Yours are certainly much larger then his.”
“Heh, good to hear,” Foxy said, grinning. Though seeing the coyote getting pinched so badly was making his left orb ache in sympathy too. He whimpered and rubbed it a little, and when it bulged out a little against his breeches he had the strangest urge to show it off to the princess. “You mean this one?”
Rebecca looked back over, and when she saw Foxy’s black furred fingers pressing his own testicle out against his breeches, she couldn’t help but start laughing! “Yes, Foxy, that one!”
As she laughed, Rebecca finally released the coyote’s left nard and let him curl up. Which he did immediately. Finally grabbing his groin in both hands, curled up into the tightest ball he could manage. He stayed that way for a few long, agonized minutes, and then he began to writhe frantically as if the pain was only getting worse. Uncurling to stretch his legs out and roll back and forth, then scrunching himself back up, rubbing his thighs together around his hands before rolling onto his belly, kicking his feet.
The whole spectacle was truly quite hilarious to Rebecca. Puppy was even more of a “squirmer” then Foxy was. How delightful! The princess already wanted to get him again. As he writhed about on the floor, she stood back up, and made a point to kick him in the butt a few times. Then she tried to step on his testicles while he lay belly down, wedging her bare foot under his rump. She managed to feel a single coyote lump beneath her toes for a moment, but when she stepped down it squirted away from her foot like a greased almond pinched between her fingers. Strangely, that still made the little coyote squeal.
“Hmmph,” she snorted, placing her hands upon her hips. “I suppose you’ve had enough for now. I should think you’re going to learn quite swiftly to be a good Puppy for me. I think perhaps I shall have your pay doubled, as well. You are a paid servant, are you not?”
Puppy only managed to groan something completely incoherent. The pain in his left testicle was really all he could think about. The worst of the sharp pain had been relentless while she’d squeezed it, and though it had faded upon his gland’s freedom, now that precious, gray furred orb was aching worse then it had ever ached in all the young coyote’s life. His sister had never gotten him this badly. And to make matters worse, when she had wedged her foot under his furry rump, it was once more his left one her toes had nearly mashed. The burst of sudden pain when the rubbery gland slipped its way to freedom reignited the ache all over again.
Rebecca simply watched the fluffy coyote writhe and cry for a little while. She was afraid he was going to permanently stain her beautiful blue carpet with all his tears, but she supposed he’d stop crying eventually. A shame about his once crisp clothing as well, it was now as dirty and wrinkled as poor Foxy’s tunic. When his writhing finally began to subside, she decided to see if he’d learned his lesson. If he had, perhaps he deserved a treat or a reward. Or both! Though, she still hadn’t thought of one.
“I shall take your pathetic groans as a ‘yes’, and because it’s your first day and I’ve already been so mean to you, I shall have your pay doubled.” She bent over and tapped him sharply on his black nose to get his attention. He yipped and peered up at her through wet golden eyes. “Now, what is it you never do?”
“Grab…your hands?” Puppy murmured, uncertain and now a little bit afraid of making her angry. Though he had to admit…If she was serious about doubling his pay he’d almost be ready to let her squeeze his nuts like that any time she wanted. …Almost. He’d never have to go back to working a bar again! Hell, he could BUY that damn bar. He’d just have to hope that today was the exception to the rule, and usually a hard working coyote like him wouldn’t be getting his testicles mashed so thoroughly on a day to day basis. “Or…anything you tell me not too?”
“Good boy,” Rebecca said with a smile, and patted his head. “And what is your name?”
Thrag took a deep breath, rubbing his aching nuts in his tan furred hands. He let it out in a long sigh, and once more repeated his new name for her. “Puppy. My name is Puppy.”
“Excellent! How do your poor balls feel?” The princess asked.
Puppy glanced up at her, pinning his ears back against his head. “Horrible. Especially my left one.”
Rebecca patted his head once more. “That’s a shame,“ Rebecca said with a smirk, a wicked urge overcoming her. “Does this make them feel any better?”
Rebecca parted her thighs a little bit while kneeling down, and pulled her skirt up up around her hips. High enough for Puppy to see the full creamy extent of her smooth, supple thighs, and even the frilly blue undergarments that lay snuggled against her feminine flesh just between her legs. His golden eyes went wide and his muzzle dropped open. He was practically being flashed by royalty! And despite the pain, Thrag could feel his sheath stirring inside his breeches.
“A little better,” Thrag admitted in embarrassment.
“Good,” Rebecca said. She smiled and dropped her skirt back down, then rose to her feet. “You may hold yourself until you feel better,” she told him, as if he was going to be doing anything else for the next little while.
Over on her bed, Foxy was staring at her with wide eyes. “Did you just show him your…?” He trailed off a little at the end, glancing away.
Rebecca rolled her eyes, and strolled over to her bed. She leaned up against one of the elegant mahogany posts, carved to resemble a vine wrapped tree stretching up to hold aloft the silvery, cloud-like canopy. For a moment, she simply smirked at the fox. It looked as though he honestly believed she’d just showed the little coyote something truly illicit. As if she’d ever show him something like that before she’d showed Foxy. She’d definitely show Foxy first. Foxy was important, and Foxy was…
…Wait, what?
Rebecca blinked, and quickly pushed that line of thinking out of her head. She smiled at the fox, and shook her head, crimson tresses swaying back and forth. “I’m wearing underwear you silly fox. Why, do you want to see too?”
“Oh,” Foxy muttered, running a hand back over his black tipped ears. He licked his muzzle, and then nodded. “Yeah. I do. But I’m not gonna ask if it’s gonna get me kicked again.”
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