Holdenthorpes
Chapter 4

As if seeking to set a record for how quickly they could make a day turn to shit, Francine's parents chose to wake her by caning her feet.
The four year old fox snapped awake as a jolt of searing pain arced through her right foot. She tried to jerk it away, only to find a claw had her ankle in a vice-like grip. Before she could even cry out a second cane found her left foot, slapping a hot, red welt across the black pad found there. The girl let out a terrified wail, fighting and scrambling in blind confusion, only for the canes to swing down again and torture her exposed and helpless little paws. Her flailing found her mother's body blocking her chosen avenue of escape, and the Karrian flashed a wicked grin her way. “Morning, sleepyhead!”
Francine could only howl in response, thick blobs of tears rolling down her face as her limbs twitched and spasmed under the hellish rain of blows upon her tender feet. It only ended when each paw was sporting a dozen welts, each of which throbbed and pulsed in time with her hammering heart.
“That's the morning punishment taken care of. What's next?” Ross asked, eyes shining with malicious fantasies of what they could do to make their penitatas suffer today.
Avelyn let out an almost childish giggle at the question. Her claws took a firm grip of the squirming little girl and settled her into a sitting position near the top of the bed, tail resting on her pillow. With a simple head gesture she signalled Ross to hold the four year old Penny in the chosen spot. Francine realised what was coming the moment her mother eased her legs apart. “No! Mommy!”
“Francine!” Avelyn scolded as the girl hastily closed her legs again. Taking up the cane, she grabbed the child's right hand-paw and pulled her arm out straight, smacking the palm sharply four times with her cane to add more welts. The girl could only shriek at the assault, unable to break free of the two adults. “I'm going to keep going until those legs open!” she barked, then gave two more swats to prove the threat wasn't idle.
With a long, anguished howl, Francine squirmed back into her proper sitting posture. Satisfied, Avelyn let go of the tortured paw, which flew instantly to the girl's chest. Rubbing the wounds with her other thumb, the girl closed her eyes tight and whimpered at what she knew was coming. Scaled fingers eased her lower lips apart, and an evil nettle-sting probed at her privates, as if seeking her urethra. As she had been so cruelly trained these past two weeks, the child's bladder began to empty into her own bed. The erection pressing into her back told the girl, as if it wasn't obvious enough, that her father adored the idea of making her sit in her own mess, which she did for several minutes while Avelyn ran a bath.
A cruel father's whisper reached the child's ears. “We've not flushed your backside out for a few days. Does someone need to take care of that?” Francine reacted with a howl as long and loud as any cane could draw from her. Laughing at her distress, Ross lifted the girl out of her puddle of shame and put her onto the stinging welts of her feet. Taking the nettle-brush from Avelyn, he walked Francine downstairs and out into the yard. This was yet another of his new favourite ways to torment her; when she wasn't a baby, she was a dog. Francine was made to dig a small hole in the dirt with a trowel, squat, and receive the burning nettle-kiss on her puckered rear passage to signify “permission”.
Once she'd buried her shame, the cleanup came from an ice-cold bath. Just what she'd done to earn an especially evil morning, Francine had no idea. She knew all-too-well that it could be nothing more than her parents being hornier than usual, and choosing to abuse her as a form of foreplay. The one saving grace she had, as she shivered through a thorough towelling dry, was that breakfasts were now something to look forward to.

True to their promise, and to Francine's eternal surprise, her tormentors had changed her diet. Gone were bowls of healthy slop designed by a man more concerned with profits than taste, and in came plates of meaty sausages, crisp bacon, and a rotating range of fruit, vegetables or similar accompaniments. Today, her peppery sausage was flanked by strips of wholemeal toast and fried mushrooms. Needless to say, threats were no longer required to achieve a clean plate.
Once the final fork-full had been devoured, Ross counted off the day's tasks on his fingers. “Penny has been punished, emptied, cleaned and fed. I think we're ready to go.”
“Go where?” Francine asked. Ever-so-briefly she hoped it might be Mr Wu's again, but as she'd already eaten that was unlikely. Instead, she jumped at her next dearest hope. “Am I going to see Isabelle?”
“No, you're going to see one of our friends. She's asked to meet you.” The answer drew a flinch from the fox cub – no friend of those evil lizards could be good news for her!
As was typical during the few times she was allowed outside, Francine travelled in her father's arms, resting on his shoulder and under her mother's scrutiny. The weather was slowly improving, with days growing longer and the sharp chill ebbing away. Being blessed with natural fur, the cold was less of a concern from Aspatrians than Karrians, but as the weather turned to favour the reptilian majority it became more common to see other rejuves out and about, and penitatas specifically. The little fox derived a certain perverse comfort from seeing boys and girls slightly older than herself wearing anxious expressions as they were lectured, scolded, or in one case dragged to a bench for a bare-bottom spanking. Misery loves company, as the old saying goes.
The first Francine knew of their destination was a sudden turn to the left. The open air above her vanished, replaced by the spacious, glass-fronted entrance hall of some building or another. Only then was she placed down, an unwelcome act given her still aching footpaws, and she whimpered softly as her parents checked in. They took the elevator up to one of the higher floors, following a corridor that ran along the outer edge of the building. All the while, Francine was soaking in signs and notices, realising near instantly she was in a Department of Corrections building. Her only true sight-seeing happened when a glance out of the window caught sight of a large, green playing field behind what looked like a warehouse. From her elevated position she could clearly see a running track, and white lines of a sports pitch, but after a few moments her mind registered the scale difference between the majority of players and the referee.
Ross gave a whistle to draw her gaze back forward. “You'll be heading there soon enough,” he said as Francine was steered for the office at the end of the hall. Through the doors was a comfortable waiting room, though Francine wasn't given a chance to sit down before a Roferian female beckoned her over. “Aha, right on time! Francine, please come with me. Mr and Mrs Hutchins, you are welcome to wait here.”

Rubbing her paws together, Francine crept through the held-open door to the office beyond. The grey furred Roferian smiled warmly as the door clicked shut, gesturing with a slow motion of the arm towards a reclining couch. “Please make yourself comfortable. My name is Persephone, but you can call me Perse. Are you happy being addressed as Francine?”
“That's my name now, isn't it?” Francine sulked into the pillow, choosing to lie face-down on the red leather.
“I know that's the name you've been given, but I'm happy to use whatever name makes you most comfortable.”
Francine's eyes briefly met the patiently smiling female's. “Francine is fine,” she mumbled before hiding her muzzle again.
“Do you know why you're here, Francine?”
“Obviously. You're a therapist, so I'm supposed to confess all my deep-down pain and anguish and you'll write it all down to use against me later.”
“That's not the case at all, Francine,” Perse's tone was firm, but understanding. “What you share with me is entirely confidential. I will use it to advise, nothing more.”
“Advise?” the girl snarled. “As if they'll listen.”
Perse allowed a pause for the girl to settle. “I know some of my questions might seem obvious, or even pointless, but I would appreciate an answer all the same, alright?” Francine nodded into the pillow. “Great. First, how do you feel?”
The little fox's muzzle slowly rotated into view. “I won't even dignify that with an answer,” she growled.
“That's fine. You don't have to answer any question you don't wish to. What about your crimes? How do you feel about the actions that brought you here?”
With a huff, Francine rolled upright. “I am very, very sorry for all the bad things I did, and I promise to never be bad again!” she snarked.
“Francine, you are free not to answer. However, it's important to understand that lies prevent proper healing. We lie to ourselves as a shield to try and protect from the things we do not wish to face. Honesty is needed if you ever wish to heal.”
The Penny's tail thumped against the chair, and with each gentle strike Francine's lip curled and twitched. Her gaze stayed low, scanning the floor of the room for something to focus on besides the therapist. “Is there anything about your past life you do regret?” Perse's question drew a huff from the fox girl's throat, and a return to her face-down posture on the couch. “I sense something from you, Francine. Please, share it with me? I'm certain it will make you feel better.”
“Get out of my head,” she mumbled, blinking the wetness from her eyes.
“It's something you weren't charged with, isn't it? Something you got away with? You don't want to speak about it because you're afraid it'll just add more time to your sentence?”
“You're the mind-reader, you tell me!”
Perse took the petulance in good humour. “Whatever you tell me is strictly confidential. In fact, confessing to further crimes might actually work in your favour, if you offer information that leads to the redressing of wrongs.”
The Aspatrian girl writhed on the couch for a time, huffing in frustration as she tried to settle her mind – no easy feat when trapped in a four year old body and subject to frequent, brutal punishments. In the end, the only way out seemed to be to go through with it. “Fine! You want to know if I feel guilty? I don't! I'm glad of it all! Everything I did! I enjoyed it all, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat!”
To Francine's surprise, Perse shook her furred head at her outburst. “That isn't true either, Francine. It's mostly true, I suspect, but there is definitely something eating away at you. Guilt, perhaps? Or... regret? A choice you made that you definitely want to have gone differently.”
The girl stirred once more, rocking herself up back to a sitting position. She met Perse's eyes for just an instant. “You really want to know? Then you have to promise it won't come back to bite me. I won't tell unless I get something good out of it!”
“All I can promise is it won't make things worse. But I suspect your parents will appreciate your honesty, and that surely can't be a bad thing?”
“You don't know my parents,” Francine growled.
Perse merely raised her paws in surrender. “You are correct, I don't know your parents. I won't insult you by pretending to have any idea what they've put you through. Don't do it for them. Do it for yourself.”
“It... it's my sister,” Francine began, each word drawn out with great reluctance. “I wanted... I'm only here because I came to get her out.”
With gentle, careful coaxing, Francine began to speak. Perse listened, and as the girl grew in confidence her words gained focus, and took a more alarming form. The Roeferian began to take notes, her smile fading away entirely as the meandering words began to piece together into something far larger – a confessional, and a serious one at that. “Is all of this true?” she asked when Francine stopped talking.
“I think you know it is.”
Persephone rose from her chair and straightened her shirt. “Thank you for telling me this, Francine. Now, as much I hate to end a session so abruptly, I really think there are some other people you need to speak to.”

Isabelle felt a chance in the room as she walked in. The Hutchins household was never a warm place, but both of the grey-scaled Karrians seemed out of sorts, almost as if they were unsure what to do with themselves. Avelyn did her best to smile at Isabelle as she entered. “Francine is in her room, dear. She's expecting you.”
Heading up the familiar, spartan living space, Isabelle found Francine sat with her back to the bed. The room had a faint, yet persistent tang of stale urine despite the bathroom space being immaculately clean. “What's going on?” she asked the smaller girl, whose eyes seemed heavy and longing for sleep.
“Fucking therapist coaxed a confession out of me,” she pouted. “I've been recounting the same damn thing over and over to parents and police and-” a strained huff slipped out as she waved at her bed. “-my parents made me piss the bed this morning and they haven't changed it!”
Isabelle took a seat beside her younger twin, patting her knee once she'd settled. Francine gratefully put her head down, and smiled as Isabelle's paw softly caressed her shoulder. “Mind telling your story one more time?”
“I guess so. It was about my rescue plan for you. When I first came here I thought it'd be easy to bypass Halkat security and pull you out, but things don't work here like Aspatria; I quickly realised it'd take a lot more work than first imagined.” Isabelle's paw halted, prompting Francine to glance up at her troubled muzzle. “I promise I've not given you any trouble!”
“You'd better not have!” Isabelle growled, though she resumed her stroking.
“Well, I needed a way in. I figured out pretty quickly that I couldn't just bribe the guards, or parents, or whoever. I needed someone high up, and so I started looking for a way in... long story short, I used one of our old war-chests to found a company under a false name. Even got a few partners in to be the front-face of the operation. Totally clueless pair, by the way; they were just happy to live the dream of running their own business, and never really asked many questions. Then, when things took off, I made myself a sales rep so I could get face to face meetings and... off I went.”
“What business are we talking about here?”
Francine tensed before answering. “Healthy Choice.”
Once more, Isabelle's paw froze mid stroke. “You set up a health food company?”
“It seemed perfect! Everything I found about the Department of Corrections pointed to two things – they were all about healthy lifestyles, and all in on making Pennys suffer! Well, what better way to do that than a health food brand that tasted awful?”
Isabelle shook her head in dismay. “if it ever got out you were behind Healthy Choice, I honestly think you might not leave Northrock alive! Do you have any idea how miserable you've made people here? How many of my friends you've made to suffer?”
“I never imagined I'd be force fed my own products,” the little girl whimpered. “but it worked! We got a bunch of sales from whackos who convinced themselves the nasty taste was proof it was good! They were like cultists! We actually became profitable in just three years, and just as we carved a name for ourselves in the healthy life circle I scored the ultimate prize – a contact in the Department!”
“Oh no...”
“Yeah, she was all in on the health thing! I brought her on as a personal customer, and once things got rolling I naturally pawned her off to a third party so I could keep some distance. We only spoke via a black-box system, and mine was blown to smithereens so no evidence of any of this could be found when I was arrested. But she was the ultimate score!” Francine laughed at the memory of a past meeting. “The stupid bitch was happy to run her mouth at every opportunity! She even smuggled out a cute little picture of you for me! Once we had her on board it was just a case of biding our time, prodding her along now and then to steer things in the right direction. She was only twenty when we met, but she'd been interned since sixteen – an up-and-coming girl for sure. Took all of two drinks to get her blabbing about how the system was broken and needed reform. Girl like that is easy to manipulate, as you well know; just agree with everything she says, act like her half-baked ideas are revolutionary, and give her a pretty bauble or two. A few years later she was climbing the ranks, and through my proxy I pushed her to come back to Northrock and try to 'reform' the place from within. I knew if she could land a position of power here I'd have a chance to get you out.”
Francine pulled herself back upright, biting her lower lip at the sight of Isabelle's cold fury. “Look, I'm not a total idiot, despite what you think. When I figured out what was going on with you I gave up trying to pull you out; I kept my girl sweet because it was a government contract, which meant free and easy money. Plus, having a friend in the Department couldn't hurt, right?”
“I trust you've told your parents who this 'girl' is?” Isabelle's words fell into place like tombstones.
Francine nodded. “Parents, and the police. I was coerced into helping with a little sting operation of theirs; I suspect there'll be another little girl for you to torture very, very soon.”
“What did that cost you?”
“A share portfolio. One they apparently didn't realise was mine. I'd hoped that fucking nest-egg would still be there when I finally got out of this hellhole, but-”
The subtle sound of the bedroom door opening made Francine fall deathly silent. The little fox stared in timid anticipation of what the female lizard silhouetted by the hall light had in store. Soft whimpers slipped from the four year old's maw as Avelyn approached with the household nettle brush in claw, which she held up for Francine to see. “Since you've been good today, I'm willing to give you a choice; we can put this away for a while, or you can have a clean bed to sleep in.”
The little white fox glanced up at her soiled bed, but the subtle clenching of her legs was proof of her choice before she voiced it. “No more brush!”
“Alright. But, and let me make this explicitly clear to you, this little mercy only lasts as long as your behaviour does. You could be feeling it first thing tomorrow morning if you act out, understand me?” The snow-white Aspatrian nodded urgently, paws shielding her crotch. Satisfied, for now, Avelyn fetched a leather collar and leash, which she handed to Isabelle. “Make her use the garden like a good little puppy. Then you can give her a bedtime spanking. Puppies don't talk!” The woman added sharply as Francine began to protest.
“It's not fair!” the younger of the two foxes whined as she glanced about the garden to make sure no-one was watching before lowering herself to the floor. “That Roferian bitch promised things would be better if I cooperated!”
“I know they mustn't seem like it, but your parents are cutting you some slack here,” Isabelle was kind enough to look away until the sound of pattering fluids ceased.
“What was the point if it didn't get my anything?” the little fox whimpered, shame filled sobs bubbling out of her as it became clear her desperate dream of mercy was just that – a dream.

Despite her good deed, nothing of Francine's world changed after her cooperation. Her parents hinted at going easy, but the spankings came just as often, and when she wasn't being spanked it was some other inventive punishment. It took a few days for one such act of imaginative cruelty to rear its ugly head; after two days of sleeping in her own stale urine, Francine had still not been given a bath. Her parents kept her physically active of an evening, using canes and switches to 'encourage' their daughter through various exercise routines, pushing her until she cried with exhaustion before carrying their aching, sweating little cub to bed for a harsh spanking and tucking her into her unwashed bed. On the days when she wasn't run ragged, they made her wet the bed again to 'freshen' the scents.
The living Hell all but broke her. The rancid funk of piss and vinegar-stink of worked in sweat was so strong she could taste it when climbing into bed. The odours were worked so deeply into her fur it was a physical thing coating her flesh. In her dismay, the girl lost all track of how long this torture went on for; it felt like an eternity.
Shaken from her stinking pit, her white fur stained with shades of yellow and grey from weeks in her own filth, the end of her ordeal came without remark. The spent little kit awoke to the sound of running water, eyes wide in surprise as she was hoisted out of bed and carried rather clumsily towards the warm, soapy water. She cried, but it was tears of relief she shed. Avelyn worked slowly, scrubbing thoroughly, grinding the soap into every pore and follicle of fur. Little Francine let out a soft huff of regret when she was finally hoisted out and stood on a towel, but rather than being dried she watched as the bath was drained of greyish water and refilled. Back in she went, with less soap this time, gasping a little at how piping hot it was. Still, she did not complain – getting back in the bath was the best thing she could have hoped for!
 “We've been harsh on you lately,” Avelyn stated the obvious. “It's not for nothing though, Francine. Your father and I have talked about what we should do in regards to your recent confessions, and we felt you needed a double-dose; extra punishment on account of yet another unforgivable act, but more importantly, a reminder of what you might have to suffer if you betray our trust over your reward.”
“Reward?” Francine parroted the alien word.
“We're going to let you meet some of Isabelle's friends. We hadn't planned on socialising you this early, but Persephone suggested it would be a good way to reinforce positive behaviour. There will be no mischief of any kind, is that clear?”
“Yes!” The little kit squeaked in fright. “No mischief!”
The nature of this reward kept her wondering until lunchtime. After a light meal of sandwiches and several hard swats on the rear with a wooden spoon, the sniffling little kit was led outside and marched southward towards unfamiliar streets. Francine's anxiety swelled as she found herself walking down a straight path alongside rolling farmland, with a series of small, narrow rises acting as a barrier against the blustery sea wind to her right. Occasionally, she'd spy houses over the hill, or find an opening leading to buildings or the beach. The latter had a way of catching her off-guard and making her stagger, though a father's tight grip kept her from fumbling off the path.
Eventually, the family came upon a cul-de-sac of blue roofed houses. Francine guessed their destination immediately, spying quite a gathering through the living room window of the house at the bottom of the horseshoe. They were greeted at the door not by the family of the house, but by an all-too-familiar Aspatrian girl. To Francine's surprise, she was also in bare fur. “Hey!” Isabelle squeaked in excitement, grinning at Francine before shifting her gaze upwards. “Would it be alright if I introduced her?”
“I don't see why not,” Ross replied. His claw opened, freeing Francine from his control. The girl was paying no attention to Isabelle by this point – her eyes were locked on the glass wall opposite. Inside of a conservatory on the seaward side of the house there was a swimming pool. A swimming pool! The very idea was beyond believable!
“Come on. No need to be shy,” Isabelle offered the soft encouragement as she waved her smaller sibling through and steered her towards the dining area. Francine's gaze pivoted away from the pool with great reluctance towards the dining table where a group of rejuves, all nude like Francine and Isabelle, had clearly just finished eating. Three were Karrians, one was another Aspatrian in the common shades of reddish-brown, the fifth was an amphibian and the sixth was a  woflish Kyyreni boy. “Everyone, I have someone I'd like you to meet!” Isabelle called to them.
All heads turned towards Francine, and one by one the same look of confusion came over them. “Why are there two of you?” the frog-girl asked. The question made Francine shiver.
Isabelle took a half-step forward, as if to shield Francine. “This is Francine, my sister. Formerly my twin brother.”
A flood of questions followed – “You have a brother?” “She's a Penny too?” “How long for?” “Why haven't we met her before?” – Francine tried to shut them all out. She didn't know these people. A part of her didn't want to know them! The only thing she cared about right now was just beyond the glass: the shimmering surface of the pool, reflecting the sunlight in soft, tantalising patterns. How long had it been since she'd enjoyed that simple pleasure?
Francine jumped at an unexpected touch upon her shoulder, snapping round to find the culprit was Isabelle. “You okay? You looked a little spaced out.”
“This is a bit much,” Francine mumbled, her pining gaze returning to the pool.
“Then how about we cool you off?” Isabelle flashed a smile to her friends as the siblings headed towards the tantalising water. The other rejuves were close behind – after a brief rinse in the shower, and the adorning of floatation armbands, the little kit was finally exposed to the joyous water.
Nothing could sour her mood after that. Not the watching eyes of her parents, nor the shared critiques of the other children, audible only due to her superior Aspatrian hearing. While the other children played with an inflatable ball in a boys-vs-girls competition, the rules of which were seemingly made up as they went, Francine happily swam widths at the shallow end, glad to be left alone.
Her hosts chose to make conversation later, when she'd climbed out to rest on the poolside. The Kyyreni boy looked almost corpse-like due to the pool water plastering his thick fur to his thin frame. “Figured you were going to bolt like our last guests,” he snorted as he tried to shed some water-weight with wriggles and spasms of his body.
“Who was that?” the girl couldn't muster much excitement, but rudeness might get her kicked out of the pool.
Beaming with delight, the boy replied, “Richter Saccard. Aka: Velius. And his little fox friend, Zachary.”
“Velius? Unlikely.”
“It's true. He got into a big huff over something and stormed out after your sister gave him swimming lessons.”
Francine let out a derisive little snort. “He was probably sick of her lecturing him on what a terrible person he was, and how he should 'learn to accept his spankings!'”
Kost burst out laughing. Without meaning to, Francine had slipped into a convincing imitation of Isabelle's voice. “You aren't wrong about Miss C.”
As if summoned, Isabelle glided over and came to rest in front of Kost. As she gripped the edge of the pool to steady herself the boy sat down, putting her snout at his crotch. She gave his manhood an unimpressed glance. “You spend so much time trying to get my attention that I'm starting to think you have a crush on me.”
“Don't flatter yourself,” Kost answered, which earned him a cruel flick of a finger against his sac. Isabelle kicked off the wall and darted back to the two Karrian girls, leaving Kost clutching himself and huffing through his teeth, while Francine turned away to help hide her laughter. Despite the interaction there was clearly no bad-blood between them; minutes later, Kost and Isabelle were at play together, their previous encounter forgotten.
After watching for a time, Francine dropped back into the water and doggy-paddled towards the main group, trying as she went to come up with a way to convince them she should join. To her surprise, no such convincing was needed – the air-filled beach ball wafted towards her quite deliberately and she punched it towards the brown-scaled girl in response, immediately becoming part of the play. For a time, she dared lower her guard enough to simply have fun, splashing and playing with these strangers until she had utterly exhausted herself, and had to reluctantly limp back to the safety of dry land.
Isabelle came with her. The pair found a sunbed together, Francine resting against her older sister's chest, facing up at the pleasant afternoon sky. “Your friends aren't how I expected them,” she confessed.
“You thought they'd all be cruel?”
“That would certainly be more our speed,” Francine agreed.
Isabelle chuckled at her sibling's pessimism. “They've all done wrong, but that doesn't mean they can't do right either.”
“Was Velius really here?”
“Yes he was. He's staying in the house on the corner.” Francine's eyes widened at the revelation. “He's here on some sort of volunteer work. Making amends for his past misdeeds.”
Francine didn't hear those words – her mind was too focused on her own inner monologue. Richter Saccard. Velius. One of the greatest hackers the galaxy had ever known. That would be a useful man to have as a friend. But even better to have as a man she could control...
“I think I'd like to meet him,” the girl announced.
Isabelle stayed quiet for just a little too long. “Maybe you will,” she said at last.
Francine's gaze turned down to the house proper. Her father smiled as he met her gaze, and beckoned to her with a lazy claw. A petulant little whimper slipped from her maw – it seemed her playtime was over all too soon.