FSE

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Warning: this story contains strong themes of objectification and degradation, much more so than is typical of stories in my gallery. If you dislike those things, please do not read. Also, if you feel that anyone should be objectified and degraded in real life without their consent, please do not read.

The air at the back of the Love's Lost bar smelled singed. While the patrons up front preferred their alcohol and opiates and wetwork-destroying drugs, the back was the playground of the synapses. Discarded wires and old decks lay strewn about the floor. A few people were there, jacked in and zonked out, their bodies giving the tiny tremors from the nerve impulses that hadn't been diverted away from their body.

Ravon guided his date down a dimly lit back hallway and into a private room. The big, black wolf was talking, low and smooth. "Jerison is the best in the business, sweetheart. He'll spool you up the best sensorium you ever felt."

The little vixen in his arms, eyes wide and mouth dry with the anticipation typical of a new addict, practically danced into the room. "I can't wait."

"And our bargain...?"

She flicked a russet red paw to him carelessly. "Yeah, yeah. Do whatever you want with my body. I won't be using it. Just no injuries and nothing that'll show in the morning, else Ms. Dragovic will have my head."

Teeth shone in the wolf's muzzle. "Scout's honor."

She sat on the edge of the bed in the tiny room, her hips unable to stay still. She kept tapping a paw on the ground impatiently.

Jerison was right on time, as usual. The raccoon was dressed in a lab coat that seemed impossibly clean for something that had come through the Love's Lost bar. He pushed his glasses high on his head, smiled at the vixen, and stepped into the room, rolling a massive deck in with him. He stopped it as the vixen--Ravon had already forgotten her name, but not that it would matter in a few minutes--crawled over the bed to be right next to the deck.

"Money first," the raccoon said and held out a pad. The vixen swiped her finger over the biosensor without even glancing at the price. Ravon knew it was expensive. Jerison then quickly started getting her set up, opening the ports on the back of her neck and feeding in the delicate wiring until her heard it click and lock into place. Ravon sniffed the air and could already smell the scent of her excitement building.

"Just a bit to begin with," Jerison said. He tweaked a dial on the deck and the vixen's eyes fluttered.

She started whispering, "Oh god, oh god, oh god."

"All going well?" The raccoon asked. Standard procedure, especially for those new, was to build the sensorium up in stages. Newbs often couldn't handle the full dive without frying.

"More, more," she begged.

"Stage two then," Jerison said and tweaked a second dial.

The vixen's body shuddered from head to toe. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and her muzzle was split in a rictus grin. She barely breathed except to hiss out, "Mooooooooore."

"Final stage." Jerison counted down in his head and then flicked a switch.

The vixen fell to the bed motionless except for her breathing. Jerison checked a few readouts on the deck and smiled. "Sensorium complete," he said. "Her brain is communicating solely with the deck now."

Ravon gave a growl and found himself rubbing his package through the tight jeans he wore. "I'm curious. What did she request?"

"The Silken Goddess. Right now she feels like she's in a grand Arabian palace floating aloft in the clouds with an entire nation worth of harem boys to satisfy her needs. Oh, and a constant feeling of bliss and steady rolling orgasm."

"Heh, I could have given her that."

Jerison side-eyed the wolf. His kindly demeanor disappeared for a moment. "Sure you could. Now, for part two." He reached down and slid a disc into the deck. There was a beep as it was read and the vixen's eyes fluttered back open.

"Diagnostic," the woman said in monotone. Her body shivered, but it was a slow shiver, as each muscle was tested in turn, moving from ears down to the tip of her tail. The slim jaw worked a few more times, then the vixen sat up in a jerky motion. "Diagnostic complete. AI designation Pepper interface successful."

Jerison gave one last smile and a wave as he ducked out of the room, his role complete.

Ravon gave a low whistle. No matter how many times he saw it, it still amazed him. With the vixen's brain communicating only with the deck, an AI program running separately in the deck could communicate with her body and work it like a fleshpuppet. The same tech was used by cyborgs who wanted a copilot to take care of things they didn't want to think too intensively about, like balancing or aiming.

"Pepper, is it?" Ravon asked.

"Yes, sir."

Sir? He liked the sound of that. "Fully interfaced, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

"Let's put that to the test. Orgasm. Now."

The wolf watched as the puppetted vixen's thighs quivered immediately and less than five seconds later, the monotone voice declared, "Orgasm achieved."

Ravon couldn't help but laugh and applaud the AI's power. "That's the stuff. You have any personality subroutes in there?"

"Standard deployment awaiting activation."

"Customizable?"

"Yes, sir," the fleshpuppet intoned, her eyes still staring sightlessly past him.

"And one last question, can you scratch her brain any?"

There was a whirring sound from the deck, while the vixen remained almost motionless. "Yes, sir, low-level synaptic intrusion possible without resistance or notice."

Ravon clapped his hands together. Jerison always did provide him with the best. "Good, good," he growled out. He could feel his jeans becoming uncomfortably tight. "Let's start with the standard nympho personality, and since I'm feeling randy right away, I want you to be in heat. You need your next cock like a tweaker needs their next fix. And here's what I want you to scratch her with..." He leaned down whispering into her ear even though there was no need to do so: their privacy was assured. "Foxes like you are worthless, useless, inferior species. The only thing you are or will ever be good for is serving your lupine betters and trying not to fuck it up too much. Got it?"

The fleshpuppet vixen was unphased by the venom in his voice, still staring transfixed. "Personality deployment ready, sir. Shall I deploy?"

Ravon stood up and dusted his jacket down. "Deploy."

Life seemed to spring back into the vixen. Her eyes focused. Her ears turned to sound. Her body began making life-like motions, shivers and quivers once more. She turned her head around taking stock of her position, then eyed the wolf in front of her, or more accurately eyed the big bulge in his jeans. A tongue ran out over her lips. None of the motions were quite the way a real person would make, but Ravon didn't care. The fleshpuppet did its job.

Ravon leaned in, looming over the woman. He braced one hand against the tester atop the four-poster bed. "Got something to say, fox?" he growled out, spitting the last word like a curse.

"No, no, I don't."

He dropped his hand against her cheek. It wasn't a slap, he doubted it even caused pain, but the AI knew how to act appropriately while he kept true to his word about not leaving any lasting injuries on her body. She clutched at her cheek. "I'm sorry, sir," she said plaintively. "I'm in heat."

Ravon gave a dismissive snort. He groped his package in front of her. "So you thought you'd just take the first wolf to pass by? Do you think you really deserve that?"

The vixen's gaze never left the bulge under his jeans. "No, but..." her hands rubbed over her own form seductively, the action taken straight from a sensorium doll. "I want it. I need it."

"What you need," Ravon began and reached around to grab her by the scruff. His fingers encountered the wires hooking her into the deck, so he reached up higher, gripping the base of her skull. "What you need," he repeated, "is to be reminded of your place, the true place of all foxes: on your knees, licking my boots."

He let go of the fleshpuppet and she obediently fell to the floor. Ravon worried for a moment that she would tug herself free of the deck, but Jerison had been thoughtful: he included plenty of cord. He looked down at the red vixen who was doing a poor facsimile of tonguing his boots. Likely it had never been programmed with that particular command in mind and was approximating as best it knew how.

"And get out of those nice clothes, you dirty vixen bitch."

"Yes, sir." The vixen sat up and began removing the slim black dress and lace undergarments. She moved as though in a striptease, a lascivious smile on her face, but as soon as the last article was off, the subroutine ended and she went back to the tonguing his boots, looking meek and fearful.

Ravon let himself lean back against a wall, which creaked and groaned from age. He undid his button and zipper and fished out his sheath into the over-warm, stale air of the back room, rubbing along it as he did so. He looked down and caught the eye of the vixen, who quickly lowered her head and returned to licking. Ravon contented himself with slow strokes through the short fur of his sheath. It was all the pleasure he needed now, drunk as he was on power and control. His shaft hardened and pushed out, showing off the various enhancements he had made over the years. Roids and splices had given his already good length an added two inches and an increased stamina to boot. He had clocked his refractory period at no more than 30 seconds.

His shaft out and drooling now, he glanced back down to the vixen. "I suppose there is something I can use you for."

The vixen's head lifted with an eager look and she immediately got on the bed, facing away, tail raised high.

"No, no, turn around."

The vixen's ears and tail drooped at those words, but she dutifully crawled around on all fours to face him, her mouth just inches from his shaft.

"Open."

The vixen's mouth fell open at his words.

He leaned in and slid his shaft into her muzzle. "No gagging, Pepper. It's inconvenient," he said, addressing the AI itself so that it would overlay those commands onto the personality structure. Her mouth worked in an attempt to say "Yes, sir," but his shaft was already filling her up. He decided to give it a test run and pushed in as deep as he could go. Given his shaft's size and her small muzzle, that meant pushing into her throat, a delicious feeling without any of the usual gagging and rejection of untrained mouths. Even better, the AI knew the body's limits and would pull off only to refresh its lungs with oxygen before sinking back into place. On the downside, since mouths were complicated things, it couldn't really give a decent blowjob without having spent a long, long time attuning itself to the body. No matter.

"Don't get the wrong idea about this," he said as he pulled his shaft back and the slipped in deep again. "This isn't making love. This isn't fucking. This is a wolf relieving his needs with the aid of a nice warm hole. That's all you are. That's all you are good for. So don't get any ideas above your station."

The vixen's head bobbed once in a nod as he thrust in again and again. Her mouth wasn't closed very tightly as the AI did not want to risk biting him by accident, but it was good enough. He could already feel his passions rising, the tension boiling up through his body. The vixen's head pressed back and he let go long enough for her to breathe deeply once, then shoved himself in as deep as he could go, his shaft immediately releasing a few spurts of seed. "Swallow it," he commanded sharply and felt the rhythmic clenching around his length as she did so.

He took a step back, his shaft still hard thanks to those splices and a touch of mental willpower. Despite the load she had just taken, the vixen was still staring at the shaft with hunger in her eyes.

He hefted his shaft by the knot and swung it hypnotically in front of her face. "You want it still, don't you?"

A nod.

"Give me a reason why I should give you what you want instead of just using your mouth again?"

The vixen's eyes unfocused as the AI considered this question. Her ears twitched in a rhythmic pattern that might be thought or might be interference from the vixen's own brain slipping past the deck. Then the vixen refocused, sat up on the edge of the bed, knees wide to show off her sex. She reached down and spread her labia open in a vee formation. "I am much tighter here and likely to give greater pleasure," the vixen said, her voice reverting towards monotone as the AI gave a more clinical evaluation. "My muscular control is also much finer here, allowing for more precise attention to be given."

Ravon took a step forward and rubbed the head of his shaft over her exposed sex. The vixen shivered. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, like you're worth anything."

"I'm not, sir," the AI said through the vixen, her voice losing its monotone quality again. "I'm just a warm hole for you to enjoy."

"That's right." He pressed his tip into her and shifted his hips forward. Her response was powerful. Even with only two inches inside of her, she wrapped her legs around his backside, holding him close. He could feel the tension in her legs, the curl of her toes as she was finally given what she was programmed to need. Her eyes rolled back. She bit her lip. The AI might have been having as good a time as the vixen herself was in the sensorium.

He pushed in more and with each inch of him that entered her, her preprogrammed signs of ecstacy only increased. She groaned. She moaned. She squeezed him inside. She clutched at his chest. She panted for breath. Ravon knew from conversations with Jerison that these were meant to make the customer feel like he was bigger inside of her than he really was. In Ravon's case, that wasn't needed. He pushed right up until only his knot was outside. "Want it all?" he whispered in her ear.

"Negative," came a monotone voice. "Further intrusion is likely to result in damage to the host."

Oh well, Ravon thought. He had thought she was a little small for him, but no matter. That wasn't why he was here. He thrust in a second time, all the way back to the knot. She clutched tighter to him and shivered. "You're right," he said as he thrust again and again, "this is a better experience."

"Thank you, sir. I am glad to have--" her voice caught for a second as a sudden deep thrust forced a moan from her throat "--glad to have been of service to a wolf like you."

He grunted as he started to thrust harder and deeper. "You're decent for a fox. Quiet, eager to please, obedient--just the way all foxes should be." She was starting to get to him. He could feel his own tongue lolling out.

"Can I show you just how skilled I am?" the vixen asked.

He looked down at her and then shrugged with a nod.

She reached down and gently took his knot, pulling him in deep, as deep as it was safe to go. Then the vixen's sex started to ripple around his shaft in a way he had not thought possible. The AI could control smaller individual muscles than the vixen herself likely could. And even though it didn't have much skill with them, it didn't need to. The effect was better than a blowjob, that was for sure. Ravon's nostrils flared and he dug his claws into the bedding. He pulled back to thrust in, but the vixen kept hold of his knot, moving with him, so that rippling sensation was ever present.

The orgasm hit him without him even realizing. There was no rush to it. There was simply a plateau of pleasure and need that lasted for minutes, and then she flipped a switch that released the floodgates within him. He spurted several more times within her. And this time, when he was finished, he staggered back, trying to catch his breath, his shaft dripping onto the floor. He looked down to his length, muttered a half-hearted command, "Clean," then tried to calm himself down.

After the vixen had licked his shaft of every drop of their combined fluids (she had climaxed while he had to add to the sensations), he zipped himself back up. "I need to go grab a drink. You stay there on the floor. Where you belong, fox."

He stumbled back to the main bar and got himself a drink, nursing it slowly as his internal chronometer ticked down to the time when the sensorium would finish. He came back to the door in time to meet Jerison there. The raccoon followed him in and slowly dialed back the sensorium as the vixen (still kneeling and naked) woke up. She had a distant dreamy look on her face. Ravon helped her to her feet only for her to flop back against the bed, relishing in the touch of the sheets. It was as though, coming out of the sensorium, every sensation, no matter how small, was new again. "You can't imagine how wonderful that was," she said to no one in particular. "I can't wait to go back."

Jerison gave a knowing smirk to Ravon and wheeled the deck out. Ravon took a seat next to the vixen as she explored the world around her anew. She touched his fur, gazed out the window, lifted her ears to the sound of clattering glass from the bar. Then she felt at her sex and the wet stickiness still left there. "Oh, looks like you had some fun while I was out." She leaned in and nuzzled against his neck. "I would say sorry that I missed it, but you have no idea how great that sensorium was."

"I can imagine."

The vixen sat up in the bed. She fidgeted and played with her hands as if she didn't know quite what to do with them. "I wanted to thank you, too. You've been so nice to me and I know I..." She paused for a long time while fighting with herself. "I don't deserve it," she said at last. "I'll make it up to you any way that I can."

Ravon grinned. The scratch had worked. Probably only a little for now, but with more sessions... "No worries. For now, why don't I take you back home?"

He drove her back under the perpetually gray skies over Seattle, before stopping at his own little apartment. He downed a nutridrink, scanned the evening news, then let himself collapse into bed.

The next morning Ravon woke up, had another nutridrink, showered, put on his best suit and tie, and set off for work. He dropped his car off on the deck, where it was taken to the 20th floor for storage, and he walked into the gigantic CyberSystems tower, riding the elevator to the 18th floor himself. There he took a seat in a too-small cubicle surrounded by dozens of other too-small cubicles, jacked into the server, and felt the vision from his left eye fade out to be replaced by lines of code.

"Hey, wolf."

He didn't even need to look around to see who was speaking. His boss, Ms. Dragovic. The vixen was at his cubicle "door" leering down at him.

"You're late, wolf. Three minutes."

"Yes, Ma'am," Ravon said without a trace of emotion on his face. It didn't matter that he was there almost an hour before all the other code jockeys.

"And where's Merra?"

"Merra?"

The vixen boss narrowed her eyes. "My secretary? The girl you've been dating for the past week?"

Oh so that was her name. Right. "I dropped her off at home last night. I haven't seen her since then." He gave a shrug. "She left with a big smile. I don't know why she wouldn't be here. I didn't think I tired her out that bad."

Ms. Dragovic's lips pursed. "Look here, wolf. I've said it once, but I'll say it again just so you don't forget. The only reason you are here is because of that damned cross-species initiative. You are useless. You are worthless. You're the worst coder here and the only thing I ever want out of you is for you to not fuck it up too much. What Merra does on her own time is her own business, but if you keep her from doing her job, then I'll have you sent back to the place all you wolves belong: on the street, begging for scraps. Don't get ideas above your station. Got it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good."

The vixen turned and stalked back down the hall of cubicles. Ravon watched her go, ice in his heart. His test last night had been a success. He had scratched Merra, and with enough time, he could use her to scratch Ms. Dragovic, and then maybe even higher management. He'd be the first wolf in a management position at CyberSystems. He swore to it.

"Eyes on the prize," he muttered as he turned his attention back to the streaming lines of code. "Eyes on the prize."