The crack of a whip sounded through the room, each little snap of leather hitting flesh followed by a gasp or a moan.  It was just another night at the weekly kinky house-party that one of Christy's friends hosted.  Christy leaned against the wall near the doorway to the "dungeon", which was actually an attic room above the host's workshop.  The room was crowded, and kept warm enough for those who wanted to wear their bare fur by the body heat of the occupants.  Christy, as a snow leopard, tended to stay near the cracked-open door where it was a little cooler.  She was still wearing a knee-length black skirt and Pink Floyd t-shirt for now, but given her thick fur, even nude she could overheat easily.

	Her long, spotted tail flicked slowly back and forth as she watched the scene playing out in front of her.  A stocky badger was chained to a kind of wooden frame in the middle of the room, and a curvaceous wolf was expertly wielding a long bullwhip.  The tip flicked against the badger's back with perfect accuracy, delivering exactly as much pain as intended.  He was leaning against his restraints, keeping very still, but he twitched and moaned with nearly every blow.

	He was completely nude, so other reactions were also visible; he was definitely enjoying the experience.  The wolf was wearing a short dress and Christy was fairly certain she wasn't wearing underwear beneath it, so the view there wasn't bad either.  The snow leopard was definitely enjoying watching, but her tail continued to flick restlessly.  She wanted to play tonight.  She was currently single, though, and hadn't brought a partner.  None of the people she usually played with seemed to be here tonight, either.  Just her luck.

	Well, perhaps she'd eventually run into somebody that she could lay claim to for the night.  The party hadn't been going for very long, so there was plenty of time to meet someone.  Meanwhile, at least there was a show to keep her amused.  She licked her lips and shifted just a bit, her eyes coming to rest on the badger's rampant erection.  Yes, the view was quite good indeed.

	The scene was wrapping up when somebody slipped in through the door and took a seat in an empty chair right beside where Christy was propping up the wall.  He was a housecat; Jet black from his ears to his toes, but with a splash of white across his throat and chest.  He wore a pink button-down shirt and black slacks, surprisingly dressy for an event where people usually wore either casual clothes or elaborate fetish outfits.  But the open collar of his shirt revealed a different sort of collar nestled beneath it, the thin black leather band showing stark against the white fur there.

	He glanced over at her and smiled.  "Evening.  I like your shirt."  His voice was a light tenor, almost feminine.  His features were a bit androgynous as well.  

	Christy felt a flick of speculation go through her mind.  He'd been a good six inches shorter than she when he walked by to take his seat too.  Though that wasn't too wildly unusual, Christy was quite tall.  "Thanks!  A Floyd fan, huh?"

	"Yeah, definitely."

	"What's your favorite song?"

	The cat considered for a bit.  "It's really hard to choose just one, there are so many. Echoes, I guess, if I have to pick."

	"Old school, huh?  I kinda like Learning to Fly best, but the early stuff is great too."

	"Learning to Fly is a good one."  He nodded.

	"I'm Christy," she said, sticking a hand out.

	The cat got back to his feet and took it, his grip firm, but his hand just a little smaller than hers, his fingers slender.  "Jake.  Good to meet you."

	"I haven't seen you here before.  This your first time?"

	"Oh no, I used to come constantly, but life has been busy lately.  I haven't had much free time.  I love it here, though."  He shot a sideways glance at the central play space, where a vixen was in the process of stripping down before starting some no-doubt fascinating performance.  "It's a lot of fun."

	Christy chuckled.  "That it is."  Jake sat back down, tucking his tail around him neatly.  Christy looked him over again, considering.  He was wearing a collar, so he might not be free to play.  But then again he might be.  There was only one way to know for certain.  "So, does that collar mean you have an owner?"

	Jake looked up at her, seeming a bit surprised by the blunt question.  "Ah... Yes it does.  But he doesn't mind if I play with other people.  We have a fairly open relationship."

	Christy tilted her head.  "'He', huh?  You're gay?"

	Jake smiled.  "Nope.  Bi."

	"What a coincidence, so am I!"  Christy grinned.

	Jake chuckled.  "Is this your way of suggesting we do something together?"

	"I was hoping to find somebody to play with tonight.  So yes, if you're game."

	"I might be.  What kind of 'something' did you have in mind?  I'm pretty much just a bottom, just so you know.  I don't do the dominant thing.  And, ah, I'm not really here for sex.  Just other play."

	Christy nodded.  She was a little bit disappointed that sex wasn't on the table, but for a first time that wasn't surprising, really.  His being a bottom didn't bother her one bit, though.  And speaking of bottoms... "How do you feel about being spanked?"

	Jake's ears flicked.  "Uhm.  I like it.  A lot."

	"Well coincidentally I like spanking people.  A lot."  Her eyes ran over the room, but all the play stations were full.  Looking down at Jake sitting on the chair, though, she decided there was no reason to wait for one to open up.  There were no rules against just starting a scene wherever you were.  "Why don't you get up and get those pants off," she said.

	There was a sudden tension in the air, and Jake swallowed hard.  Only moments ago they'd been two strangers, casually discussing something that might happen.  Now, all at once, they were sub and dom, top and bottom, and that power exchange sent a spark between them.  "Y-yes ma'am," said Jake.

	Christy smiled.  She loved getting called "ma'am", for more reasons than one.  She watched as Jake stripped off his pants.  He was wearing plaid boxers under them, and he glanced over at her after setting the pants aside.  "Those too," she said, and he nodded and pulled them off as well.

	He had a jock strap on under them, the gray elastic contrasting clearly with his darker fur, which pretty much confirmed the suspicion that Christy had about him.  The jock strap would be holding a packer, a rubber cock meant to make the line of his pants look right, because otherwise it might be a little too obvious that he didn't have one.

	The jock strap was a good look, though, and Christy was the last one on the planet to complain about that sort of thing.  She dropped down to sit in the chair Jake had just vacated.  "Bend over," she said, patting her lap.  Jake swallowed again, but obeyed, lying across her lap.  She could feel the slightly soft bulge of his packer just pressing against her leg.  With a smile she ran a hand down his back and out along his tail, then settled it on his rump.  The jock strap left his cheeks completely bare, and she rubbed one of them slowly.

	She could hear Jake's breathing, steady and even but just a bit faster than normal.  His body was faintly tense, no doubt anticipating the first blow.  Well, it would be rude to leave him hanging for too long. Christy grinned and pulled her hand back, then delivered a hard, sharp spank.  Jake yelped, twitching on her lap.  He grin broadened and she hit the other cheek just as firmly.  That got another yelp.  She rubbed the spot where she'd just hit, feeling the sleekness of his jet black fur and the warmth of the flesh beneath.  It would be warmer still by the time she was done with him.

	Lifting her hand again, she began a steady series of lighter slaps, gentle smacks that would barely sting at all.  He drew in a breath at the first one, then let it out in a long sigh as she worked over his rump, warming each cheek up in turn.  The lighter blows would get the skin warmed and the endorphins running, which would let her hit him harder and longer than if she just whaled away right from the start.  To keep things exciting, though, she sometimes delivered a harder smack.  Each of these made Jake gasp and twitch in her lap.

	He was very shortly panting hard, and as she slowly increased the intensity of the spanking, his gasps and sighs began to turn into moans.  Each slap of her hand grew harder and harder, and each seemed to make him moan louder and louder.  He started to squirm on her lap, his hips twitching, pushing the packer against her leg.  His moans were having an effect on Christy too.  Her own breath was a bit faster.  There was something oddly arousing about the feeling of the fake cock pushing against her leg.  It was soft, not being meant to mimic an erection, but still, the contact was stirring her own arousal more than a little.

	She wondered if Jake could feel that.  Did he already know or guess before they began, that she was the other side of his own situation?  Or was he only just now realizing it on feeling her cock rising in her lap, pressing into his belly?

	Christy didn't let that thought distract her too much.  She hit Jake harder, each slap now separated by a good long pause to let him anticipate the renewed pain.  The sharp cry he let out as she hit him hard was as much a whimper as a moan.  She suspected she was starting to push his limits a bit.  But she wasn't ready to stop yet, and he hadn't told her to, so she hit him again, even harder.

	"Ah!  Fuck!"  He jerked, his tail lashing.  She didn't give him time to recover, though, but hit him again, on the same spot, as hard as she could.  He hadn't had time to even draw a breath, so a strangled whimper was the only sound he made, though his whole body jerked again in pain.

	She went back to softly rubbing his rump.  It was heated indeed beneath her hand.  He went limp, panting hard, his head hanging down on the other side of her lap.

	"How are you doing?" she asked.

	"I... Uhm..."  His voice was dazed, breathless.  

	She chuckled softly.  "Still good?  My hand is a bit sore, but I've got a few more spanks in me."

	He let out a little whimper.  "I... I don't know..."

	She stroked his fur still.  "You want to take more, don't you?  You want to be a good boy for me, I know.  It hurts, but you still want it."

	Another whimper, but also a nod.  "Yes ma'am."

	"Just a few more, then.  Ready?"

	His breath started coming faster again, and he tensed, then relaxed with an obvious effort, blowing out his breath in a deep sigh.  "Yes."

	"Good."  She hit him again, hard, on the opposite cheek from before.  He gasped, then let out a long, whimpering moan.  She paused for a long few seconds, then hit him there once more, even harder, wringing a sharp cry from him, and then without giving him room to recover, delivered a series of hard blows, back and forth from one cheek to the other, in a steady one, two rhythm.  Each one made him cry out, and the cries started to verge on being screams, he was obviously now being pushed to the very limit.

	One last blow, as hard a she could, and he did scream that time, then went completely limp, faint sobs coming from him, when she finally stopped.

	She stroked his rump and his tail and along his back gently, soothingly.  "You did good.  You were such a good boy."

	"Th-thank you ma'am,"  he said, his voice trembling.

	Christy continued to pet Jake softly as he slowly relaxed, his breath returning gradually to normal.  He started purring as she did, and she smiled warmly.  Though the now-relaxed mood hadn't quite relaxed her completely, she was still more than a little turned on.  Reducing a man to sobs and whimpers always had that kind of effect on her.  She licked her lips as Jake lay still, purring softly on her lap.

	"Jake?" she said at length.

	"Mmm?"  His voice was a drowsy murmur, not entirely coherent.

	"That was a lot of fun.  Thank you."

	"Mmm, yeah.  Thank *you*."

	She chuckled, then gave her hips a little wiggle, rubbing her erection against him.  "You're very fun to play with.  And there's something else I  would like to do tonight.  I know you said you weren't looking for sex, though.  So it's fine if your answer is no."

	His breath caught, and his ears flicked back and forth uncertainly for a moment.  "I... Uhm..."  Suddenly he slid off her lap, crouching on the floor beside her for a moment, looking up at her.  He licked his lips.  "I think the main reason I don't look for sex at these parties might not apply.  Most people looking for sex here want a guy that has a cock.  I... er..."

	Christy grinned.  "You don't, but I've got enough for both of us."

	His ears flushed red, and he nodded.  "Uhm.  Yeah."

	She rose and held a hand down to him.  "Downstairs to the private room, then?"

	He took it and let her pull him to his feet.  "Yes."  He gave the little pile of shoes, pants, and boxers a glance then, and Christy grinned.  "Just shove those out of the way.  I see no reason to not parade you through the house.  In fact you might as well take the shirt off too."

	His ears blushed crimson again, but he ducked his head and said, "Yes, ma'am."  A few moments later he'd unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.  He wore a chest binder under it, a tank-top-like garment of black nylon fabric that barely stood out against his dark fur, though the v-line where it cut off his white bib was obvious.

	"Good boy."  She gave him an approving look, then beckoned for him to follow her.  She put a little swish in her step, and a glance over her shoulder confirmed that he was staring at her rump as she walked out the door and down the stairs from the shop attic to the house proper.