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Who wouldn't grow stiff over [i]that[/i] action?! XD lol\n\nRight! So this story was in development... for a little while now. Didn't know exactly how to pull it off without it becoming a ginormous sex-capade. I believe I've done an alright job with this one though! Really focused on Amanda's personality and a number of character summaries provided by her owner and most righteous artist @Passpartou while writing this thing. \n\nI can only hope that you, the reader/fapper/god-knows-what-else-er, will have just as much fun reading this as I did writing it.\n\nSo now then! Rock Hard, Live Harder. Enjoy the read! \n\n-Max xoxoxo\n\nMaxwell, Maile, Bradley, Rory & Story (C) @GratitudeAdvocate\n[url=https://inkbunny.net/submissionview.php?id=1077339]Amanda Scratch[/url] the lynx-girl cutie-patootie (C) @Passpartou\nIcon artwork (from left to right) (C) fa!ShutUpJen, @Passpartou & fa!Ikazu, respectively. ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Man, I have me some FUN while writing this little story-poo! ;3

So there's this awesome loli-cub OC who's a lynx and her name is Amanda Scratch and if you aren't familiar with her, TIME TO GET SCHOOLED, KIDDIES!

Anywho, I thought long and hard about an ideal scenario involving my fursona Maxwell (y'know, this shep-coon butthead.) "pairing up" with Amanda because hell, rock/emo/punk-style lynx girl and gnarly assassin grunge-bassist shep-coon guy... together? Who wouldn't grow stiff over that action?! XD lol

Right! So this story was in development... for a little while now. Didn't know exactly how to pull it off without it becoming a ginormous sex-capade. I believe I've done an alright job with this one though! Really focused on Amanda's personality and a number of character summaries provided by her owner and most righteous artist \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPasspartou\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPasspartou\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
while writing this thing.

I can only hope that you, the reader/fapper/god-knows-what-else-er, will have just as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

So now then! Rock Hard, Live Harder. Enjoy the read!

-Max xoxoxo

Maxwell, Maile, Bradley, Rory & Story (C) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tGratitudeAdvocate\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t

Amanda Scratch the lynx-girl cutie-patootie (C) \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPasspartou\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
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Icon artwork (from left to right) (C) \n\t\t\t\t\tShutUpJen, \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
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\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPasspartou\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tPasspartou\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
& \n\t\t\t\t\tIkazu, respectively. ", "writing": "Nobody else actually noticed the young lynx-girl getting heckled by perverted assholes until Maxwell did.\n\n~\n\n\"Another solid performance, you guys! Way to go! Drinks are on me tonight!\" Bradley hollered, ecstatic and flustered. His eyes glimmered with hyperactive excitement as if he'd gotten a head-start on Mr. Jose Cuervo just a few shots too early. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, coursing into his synapses, driving his happiness to epic proportions.\n\n\"Did we really do that well? Man, I kept hearing feedback glitches from Max's bass amp rig.\" Maile said, shrugging her shoulders. \"No offense, shep-coon, but I did.\" Brad cleared his throat, bending down to touch his toes, jutting his tail up into the air behind him restlessly.\n\n\"Nah, I ain't offended by that. My bass tech, though? He should be.\" Maxwell said curtly, smiling wide with sinister deathly crazed intensity. \"Oh yes, he surely should be.\" Max swiveled his head back and forth, his one good eye scoping every nook and cranny of the venue's long hallway, cluttered with crew members, security personnel and anthro groupies aplenty, both young and old, some with fanboy lovers and most single and ready to mingle with whoever they could. \"Say, where is the scrawny little shit anyways? RORY!!! I got a bone to pick with you, ya lil' fuckin' bastard!\" Max called out, kneeling down to peek underneath a nearby table smothered with cables and pedals being rolled away into a nearby storage room. Max kept gawking around with his eye opened wide, seeking out the bulldog bass technician responsible for ensuring Max's sounds produced crisp, clear, deep throbbing low notes. Tonight, Rory fucked up significantly. Luckily, Bradley and Maile had no issues with their gear set-ups, so not all hope was lost for a fatty bonus tip from the location's property manager, something Brad was most excited about.\n\n\"Shep-coon, you're just overreacting.\" Maile said, rolling her goat-iris eyes sarcastically. \"So do me a solid and stop acting like a giant moist pussy.\" Maile blurted out. Bradley guffawed stupid laughter while popping his knuckles, leaning backwards to hear his back snap and pop. Max's muzzle scrunched up into a sneer. \n\n\"Oh yeah? Bite me six shades to Sunday, princess.\" Max retorted.\n\n\"I'll get Sammy to do that dirty deed before I consider such a decision, you dick-face.\" Maile said, rolling her goat-eyes.\n\n\"Oh, joy! Lo and behold! You'd send your fuck-toy in your stead? To bite me?! God, how flattering! I should feel truly lucky, knowing Maile's pet German shepherd will give me a proper biting where the sun don't shine. Ha! Pathetic!!\" Max exclaimed. A couple large gorillas loading up the band's gear stopped and pondered towards the three performing anthros, slightly miffed over their heated exchange.\n\nMaile inhaled, snorted a tiny plume of fire from her nostrils and gave Maxwell a stern glare. \"Shep-coon? Go fuck yourself.\"\n\n\"Oh, with pleasure, trash-panda. You want me to use my thumb or my big toe-paw to perform the dirty deed?\" Max asked, grinning sardonically. Maile socked Max hard in his belly, causing the shep-coon to laugh hysterically, even though a sudden burst of pain seeped into his guts.\n\n\"Relax, buddy! You did fine! Shit, we all did fine.\" Bradley said, clapping his hand-paws together.\n\n\"Yeah, we did!\" Maile said, raising her arms high above her head, rubbing her biceps against her ram-horns, winking at Max, who returned the wink with a raspberry, all in good teasing fun.\n\n\"Too true! I mean it, we knocked this show right outta the park! The SUCK will surely be satisfied now, especially with that performance!\" Bradley exclaimed, whiskers jittering, large gamboge fox-eyes flushed with admiration. Bradley giggle-snorted at how damn overjoyed he felt. Rarely did Brad ever become this joyous over anything, let alone another routine show performed. It was a spectacle to behold for Maile and Maxwell, who just stared in dead-pan silence, unsure of how to respond. Bradley regretted not having a camera with him to capture the moment. Maxwell broke the awkward silence.\n\n\"Uh, 'the suck'? Hey Bradley-san, just exactly what the fuck [i]is[/i] that?\" Max asked with avid curiosity, head cocked, eyes pondering freely, nose twitching in a state of profound confusion. Maile chortled at her bassist's reaction.\n\n\"It’s the organization we dedicated this show towards, shep-coon!\" Brad said, rustling Max's chest-fur playfully. \"The reason why we even bothered playing tonight! That's what!\"\n\nMax stared at Brad with a blank face, devoid of expression. Bradley and Maile giggle-snorted at each other, covering their noses with their hand-paws. \"Oh, Maxwell… you don't know, do you?\" Brad asked.\n\n\"Enlighten me, fuck-tard.\" Max said, shrugging his shoulders. Maile massaged Max's neck briefly, making the shep-coon moan satisfactorily.\n\n\"It means 'The School for Underprivileged Cubs and Kits', abbreviated to: The S.U.C.K.!\" Bradley said, arms spread out wide.\n\nMax scoffed, shaking his head. \n\n\"God, what an ignorant fucking abbreviation. I swear, a monkey could come up with a better name.\"\n\nThe gorillas reared up and snorted at Maxwell, frowning and clobbering their chests with large hairy fists.\n\n\"No offense, fellas!\" Max said, hand-paw raised towards the heavy-bodied mammalian apes.\n\n\"Yeah, not as ignorant as your face, and monkeys are smarter than you give 'em credit for, so pipe down.\" Maile said in a low voice.\n\n\"Blow a llama, Mai-Mai. Seriously.\" Max growled.\n\n\"Age before beauty, fag-weed! Seriously.\" Maile replied with dry sarcastic wit in her tone.\n\n\"Ay caramba, chica!\"\n\n\"Yup. You know you love it, shep-coon.\" Maile said, grinning deviously.\n\n\"That's the problem, girl.\" Maxwell flung his dreadlocks back from his face, freeing his forehead and reclaiming his 50/50 vision. \"I might love it [i]TOO[/i] much!\"\n\nMaxwell shook his head some more. Brad snickered, rubbing his slick-furred fennec-collie head nervously.\n\n\"Yeah, I know, it’s dumb as shit, but it certainly gets its point across. You see, it really sucks to see how many younger anthros don't get nearly as much acknowledgement as human children do, especially in terms of schooling and higher education development and opportunity.\" Brad said, speaking freely and concisely. \"That's why we embraced this non-profit charitable donor-drive and played a show for them - to raise ample awareness of their goals and incentives. Cool, huh?\" Brad smiled wide, proud as hell over his executive decision to book Enim-Noinu in a performance for this particular gig, standing with righteous splendor in his pose.\n\n\"That's really cool, man. Now I'm glad we performed here. Gosh, I hope we get paid substantially and equally well for this!\" Max insisted. \n\n\"That's what I'd like to find out about soon enough too, shep-coon. If we played for charity, no go there. But if the owners find our performance suitable enough and then some, well… bonuses all around!\" Bradley exclaimed. Maile cleared her demonic throat, nodding with figurative understanding. Max patted his hips with his paw-padded palms in a drum-roll.\n\n\"Alright, you hard-rocking ragamuffins!\" Max announced, wrapping his arms around Brad and Maile's necks, caressing their shoulders. Maile's goat hooves dragged across the wooden backstage flooring as she giggled. Brad caught a deep whiff of Max's odorous underarm-pits and felt a strange fleeting sensation of bliss sweep over him, not sure why he never before noticed how damn hot Max smelled after a heavy performance. Brad felt as if he were developing a straight fur's gay crush on Max with every show they played, every venue they traveled to and toured at, every waking moment spent with the wild and crazy shep-coon hybrid. Max chuckled as he hugged his band members tight against his body, lightly kissing their foreheads. \"We're gonna get drunk as skunks tonight and celebrate our performance in style!!\" Harvey, a skunk stage-hand and voluntary head of security, gave an awkward glance towards Max, eavesdropping in on his statement. The skunk walked away, whispering beneath his raspy breath. [i]\"Dude, not all skunks are alcoholics, you biased aggregate dirt-bag.\"[/i]\n\nBrad cracked a sardonic smile and shook his head, freeing himself from Max's underarm head-lock. \"Well, as tempting as a bottle of brewsky sounds, unfortunately I won't be joining y'all tonight for that sort of thing. Got some issues that need resolving with Rory, for one, and I need to negotiate our pay with the owners of the venue for another. Priorities first, you guys. You know that, right?\"\n\n\"Awwww, duuuuude!!! C'mon! Fuck Rory! He'll get stuck in a shitter somewhere and we can find him then! The pay will come all in due time, Bradley! This is serious business, dude.\" Max groaned, falling limp and nearly pulling Maile down with him. Maile lifted Max's flimsy and rubbery arm off her shoulder and let it swing raggedly down against Max's waist side.\n\n\"Max, he might have a point.\" Maile insisted.\n\n\"Oh, for fuck's sake! Not you too!!\" Max yelled. His face curled into a misbegotten pout, frowning with frustration over the group's lack of fun times had over a bottle of bubbly or maybe something stronger to suit the occasion.\n\n\"Sorry, Max, but Bradley is right - priorities first. Maybe later? Take a raincheck for me.\" Maile said. She caressed Max's shoulder, brushed her bristly hand-paw against Max's cheek and nodded affirmatively. As Brad walked back towards the consultation office, holding a clipboard with notes pertaining to the show's pros and cons, Maile sighed aloud, hugging up against Max's body, pressing her snout against his breastplate.\n\n\"Maile-san, it looks to me as if we'll be boozing it up alone, babe.\" Max said, still hugging against his drummer. Maile leaned her head upon Max's shoulder, poking her nose against his larynx, feeling it throb slightly, hoping not to prod his cheeks or neck with her thick, curled ram-horns.\n\n\"Okay… but could we at least go back to the dressing room? I need to change into some clean clothing, not to mention tidy up a little. Or is that you I smell, you dirty dog?\"\n\n\"I doubt it. Must be your upper lip. And goodness gracious, Mai-Mai, is your vag really that dirty? That's very unbecoming of a girl of your stature. I thought all drummers, especially female ones, were supposed to tend to their filthy puds on a regular basis.\"\n\n\"Shit, man, wouldn't you like to know?\" Maile pinched Max's nipple hard, nearly pulling his chained piercing right off. Max screeched and yelped. He leaped back, flinching from the red panda/goat-demon hybrid. \n\n\"AAAH! Not the nipple! Not the nipple!\" Max chanted with a high-pitched squeal, forcing a braying laugh out of Maile.\n\n\"And for your information, fuck-tard, my vagina is not a 'pud'! In fact, you're the only 'pud' I see anywhere around here right now!\" Maile said, eyes blazing with jaded emerald green, wickedly attractive. Max held his hand-paws up in a surrendering yield, smiling graciously.\n\n\"Yeah, okay then. Go on ahead, I'll meet you there.\" Max said, relaxing from his sudden burst of excitement, re-adjusting his dreadlocks behind his shoulders. \n\n\"Will do. Try not to find any dirty hookers to be invited into our dressing room this time, would you please?\" Maile asked Max with a stern, serious expression.\n\n\"For you, my dear? I shall invite twenty of 'em. All with dirty Southern hillbilly names.\"\n\n\"Dammit, shep-coon! Do that and I'll punch all their stupid ho-bag teeth out, suggesting whether or not they even have any to spare.\" Maile replied, snarling slightly. \"I'm serious, you motherfucker. No whores. Not tonight. I lack the patience for such a thing.\"\n\n\"Fine, fine! You have nothing to worry about, Maile. I promise.\"\n\n\"I've got my eyes on you, pal.\"\n\n\"Which parts of me you gawkin' at, Tits McGee?\"\n\n\"God, you are such a delightful jackass. Has anyone ever told you that before?\"\n\n\"Every fucking day, kiddo.\" Max said with a companionable wink. \"But that's why you find me irresistible. You and damn-near everyone else out there.\"\n\n\"Max?\"\n\n\"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Just go find Rory so we can move on with our lives, would you?\" Maile said, patting Max's chest.\n\n\"Ten-hut!\" Max barked aloud, standing in a mock-salute, smacking his hand-paw against his forehead. Maile snickered, shaking her head, cocking her wrist at the shep-coon. Max chuckled as he parted ways with the red panda-hybrid girl, in hopes of finding his short-round bulldog bass technician, so that Max can nail his chubby fat ass to a wall for fucking up the bass delivery as abrasively as he did. Rory was in for a class-act scorning from beyond the grave. As the day dwindled down and the sun set past the distant horizon, settling into nightfall, Max didn't exactly run into Rory, but he did encounter another smaller anthro… smaller and far younger than ever to be expected.\n\n~\n\nSupply closets and empty rooms, hundreds of cubic feet in storage space, yet not a single sign of just one goddam stupid little bulldog. Maxwell began to grow frustrated over his lack of success in finding Rory, wondering if the bastard wasn't hiding from Max intentionally, evading a quick lashing-out. One way or another, he'd receive a proper scorning in the name of discipline.\n\nMax was by no means a perfectionist, nor did he demand anything too highly of those who he worked with. His expectations were never set too high for the crew responsible for all the technical aspects of his band's touring premeasures - from the lighting techs to the drivers (which there were very few, mostly on voluntary participation and mostly related to their touring manager Gus somehow - a cousin here, a grandson there, all in the family), everyone had their mutual part to play in the outcome of every show Enim-Noinu performed. Some went exceedingly well, others just became massive shit-storms before the third song on the set list. A couple moshers would engage in fist-fights that wound up calling off the music and conjuring the paramedics; a large anthro wolf stud would forcibly rape a small otter girl and get dragged away by beefy-butch security guards, rhinos or dragons mostly; an overdosing hipster-spider anthro would be carried by the crowd, hoisted to the front of the general admission floor, frothing from his spindly mouth, relocated to a cot with water and ibuprofen, heart monitors set upon his abdomen. Paramedics were often prepped for any best or worst-case scenario, composed of wolves, cheetahs, field mice... sometimes Maxwell wondered how many lucky chance-encounters he, Brad and Maile have had in the past not to end any given show with a massive riot under their noses. They played grunge rock, not heavy metal, but there was always still a superiorly profound ass-hat or two who ruined the experience for everyone else involved by way of a stupid fucking decision or several. No guns drawn against the band while on-stage (thank goodness!) or crazed sex-fiends chasing Bradley while wearing a neon pink strap-on. Things could always be way worse in the long run. Enough years devoted to the road can really screw with a musician's head like crazy. Maxwell was fine with taking things easy, step by step, day by da-\n\n\"You will honor his wish and give him what he wants or else we're gonna hurt you, little bitch!\"\n\nMax gasped and stepped quickly behind a large pillar jutting free from a cemented wall in the hallway he was traveling down. Somehow, he'd bypassed all the masses of crowds and arrived in a barren, seemingly-abandoned area, neglected by the others. Max heard the struggling grunts of a female, a young girl from the sound of it. Max closed his eyes and squinted his lids tight. He detected three older presences with a significantly smaller one, much shorter than the rest and far more petite in body shape and tone. \n\n\"Fucking stupid-ass groupie rapists, they have no clue what they're in for.\" Max whispered to himself silently.\n\nMax prepared to step around the pillar extension and kick one of the bastards in his scrawny nuts, then frighten the other two off with a little brash tough-guy talk, something he felt especially skilled at doing. Instead, the younger presence managed to find a means of attempting a last-ditch escape effort. Max saw shadows protrude from the end of the hallway, illuminated by a patch of outdoor fluorescent bulbs that glared with intense bright light. A young girl's heavy panting emanated through the hallway, echoing off the stone walls, as she pushed open a door and the three older males (judging by their silhouetted muscular builds and masculine-sounding voices) chased after her. No way would Maxwell sit idly by while letting such a young, innocent female (maybe even a potential student of the very S.U.C.K. he'd just finished playing a show for with his band-mates) get raped or harmed by a few dick-less losers. \n\n~\n\nMaxwell pushed the door open with his shoulder and saw three anthros pestering a young girl. \n\n\"HEY, YOU FUCKS! [i]PAWS OFF!![/i]\"\n\nMax ran and body-tackled one of them to the blacktop. The first assailant, a cheetah, grunted and collided with a thudding crash. Max hit him hard enough to cause one of his sneakers to fly free from his foot-paw. The other two, a wolf and a squirrel, spun around quickly, visibly startled. Wolf-dude reached into one of his rear jean pockets and removed a switchblade, twirling his arm in a flash, exposing glinted steel. He pointed it at Max while the shep-coon stood up quickly, fists raised in self-defense.\n\n\"Hey, fag, lay off! She's our catch, you go find your own pussy to violate!\" Wolf-dude snarled.\n\n\"I'm gonna say this once and only once. Put that shit away and get gone. Trust me, you fellas don't need me in your conscience. I don't want any bloodshed tonight, but if you keep it up, that's exactly what you'll get.\"\n\n\"Jeez, dude, who spat in your Corn Flakes?\" The squirrel asked Max. The young girl, an anthro lynx-cub, looked up at Max with desperate eyes… only for a brief moment. Within a split-second, her expression shifted from that of a frightened girl in need of help to a determined rogue with nothing to lose. She reared her leg way back behind her body and swung it forward, plunging her foot-paw directly into Wolf-dude's gonads. The squirrel jumped back in response and gasped. Maxwell's eyes opened wide in shock as the poor wolf bastard fell to the ground, squealing and yipping, uttering a wounded dog's cry. He rolled crookedly into a nearby gutter, caressing his groin in extreme visible pain. The lynx-girl spun around and swiped her hand-paw across Squirrel-guy's face, cutting into his cheek with extended cat-claws. He hollered and twirled on his ankles, reeling to the pavement, banging his head roughly against a cement parking curb. A tooth plopped free from his mouth - one of his two nut-chompers. Unfortunate, but not entirely unwelcome.\n\n\"Uugh… holy ph… phit, my toof! [i]Fuggin' shtupid lil' bish brog my goddam toof![/i]\" Squirrel-guy said through bitter weeping and a severe lisp, sounding downright pitiful. The cheetah wrapped his arms around Max's ankles in a feeble attempt to bring him down, maybe beat him senseless for intruding upon their diabolical plans. The girl ran up to Max, pausing briefly to kneel down and grab Wolf-dude's switchblade upon her approach. She pawed at Cheetah-man's hair (a goldenrod yellow) and held his head up, groaning at the heaviness of his dead-weight, then she placed the blade against his throat.\n \n\"Thought you could just rape an innocent young cub like me, huh? Well guess what? Not everyone is into that sort of thing like you perverts are. If you had half a brain in your stupid head, you'd listen to this raccoon and get the heck out of here if you knew what was good for you. When you go, leave and never come back. If I find out you tried this on any of my friends, I swear I'm gonna… I'm gonna…\"\n\n\"What're you going to do, kiddo? Come on, spill it out… don't grow all nervous on me now…\" Maxwell whispered beneath his breath, heart racing off the charts.\n\n\"I'll cut your balls off and juggle them in front of your big dumb face! Y-You got it?\"\n\nMax looked into her face with liberated glee, amazed by how radical she had become in just a moment's time. He felt obligated to ask her if she'd be interested in becoming Max's protégé, to help annihilate similar assholes like these for a living. Then he thought twice. She was too young for that sort of thing. Max suspected she had parents somewhere out there looking for her. Also, she appeared to struggle in holding back scared jitters. She was brave, but still a child at heart. Peer pressure, most likely. Max sympathized for her struggle.\n\n\"I'm sorry, girl. It was their idea, I swear. I never even meant to hurt you, was only just playing! Please, let me go! I promise, I promise I won't do anything like this to you or anyone else ever again!\" Cheetah-man said, eyes pleading, staring at her arm, at his buddy's paltry weapon, neglecting to look into her green eyes for fear of those eyes being the last thing he might ever see before she decided to carve into his neck, like a butcher to the cow in a slaughterhouse.\n\n\"Look me in the eyes and apologize to me.\" She ordered him. When he finally broke down and obeyed, a single tear ran down his cheek, carving a trail through his black-lined fur pattern. Max snickered like an Asian schoolgirl inside, thoroughly impressed yet somewhat mortified by her extreme persistence. He also felt a strange and impeccably queer sense of responsibility for her overall safety. \n\n\"Who are you?\" She asked aloud. Max presumed she was pondering for his identity, so he reacted with limited delay.\n\n\"I'm the guy who saved your hide from these delinquents. You wanna… just hand me the blade, kiddo? I mean you no harm.\"\n\n\"Obviously, you prick! Goddam punk, you kicked our ass instead of helping us fuck hers. For fuck's sake, all I wanted was a taste! Just one lick, that's all! Nobody ever got pregnant from a simple twat-lickin, right? Little fuckin' prude, she should've spread her legs for us so we could violate her stupid little bitch-cunt, but no! [i]Nooo, you[/i] had to come into the scene and [i]fuck it all up, pal! Thanks for nothin'![/i] You stupid fucking raccoon, dog, what-fucking-ever you are, [i]piece of goddam horse shit![/i]\" Cheetah blurted out loud, sneering at Max.\n\nThe lynx-girl, rolling her eyes, obviously bored to death of the yammering vulgar cheetah's nonsense, tightened her grip upon his scalp and pressed the blade against his dampened feline nose. Cheetah-prick winced, trying to shake his head, hand-paws extended behind his back. Max noticed he was trembling with fright. A grown-ass anthro-kitty, scared of a little lynx-girl unafraid to fight back, to stand her ground, to pay it forward for the dick-less fucks who tried to rape her. What a beautiful portrayal of karma hard at work!\n\n\"Shut your big mouth or I'll carve a new butthole into your muzzle.\" She said, warning him. Max noticed her hand quivering slightly yet refused to acknowledge it out loud. She was just as scared as he was, if no more so - and she had every right to be. If Max had been a moment or two late (or worse, never even noticed anything at all), she might have been brutally stabbed, fucked, killed and left to rot in a dumpster or a gutter somewhere in the cold. A horrible visual to conjure, especially seeing as how… cute she was. Cute and lethal with a knife, evidently.\n\n\"Listen!\" Max insisted. He held his hand-paw out to her. \"Just… give me the blade. I think… no, I'm sure they get it. Right?\"\n\nCheetah nodded vibrantly, coinciding with Max's decision to prevent a possible eye gouging or throat slitting. \"See? They get it. No more violence. They won't do shit to you. I'll make sure of it. First thing's first - give me the knife.\"\n\nThe wolf struggled to stand up, limping and hyperventilating, short of breath. He was still rubbing at his crotch as he scampered away across the parking lot, making a quick escape, hoping no minor harassment charges would be filed against him. The squirrel reached down to grab his tooth, pocketed it, flipped Max off and ran to catch up with the wolf, using his shirt as a makeshift gauze-pad for his fresh new gum-hole. The girl at last kicked cheetah in his gut, knocking the wind out of him in a single deep, hollow wheezing breath. When he fell to the ground in a stone-cold faint, she handed Max the knife and stood at attention. Max glanced at her, at the switchblade, at the unconscious cheetah and back at the entry door to the performing venue. \n\n\"Maybe we should call 911 for this chump?\" Max asked, thumbing at the cheetah.\n\n\"Nah, he's scum. Let him freeze out here, doesn't bother me none. He was the one who flashed me first.\" She said, shaking her head. \"Besides, he wasn't all [i]that[/i] big anyways. I've seen bigger.\" Max's eyebrows raised at this statement. \"For now? I'm cold… and hungry. Can you, uh… can you please help me?\"\n\n\"Okay.\" Max said, mind blown at the sudden intensity she conveyed upon her rapists. If she was a scaredy-kitty by nature, then she did a damn fine job at hiding it. \"Uh, wanna come back-stage for a bit? Just to catch a bite to eat, to freshen up, get warm… that sort of thing?\" \n\nShe glanced at Max with uncertainty, swayed her hips, shrugged her shoulders, lowered her pointy lynx-ears and walked towards the door. \"I [i]gueeeess[/i]. You're sure you won't tell my parents what happened?\"\n\n\"No, not unless you want me to, for safety's sake. You seemed to handle yourself well under pressure. I gotta admit - I'm impressed.\" Max said.\n\n\"Okay.\" Lynx-girl said, exhaling a relieved sigh. She cleared her throat, rubbing her chilly wet nose with her sleeve. She pointed towards the door, smirking lightly while glancing up to Max. \"Lead the way, kind raccoon sir.\"\n\n\"Shep-coon.\" Max muttered aloud. She glanced at him with curious eyes. He shrugged with a smirk and scratched an itch upon his muzzle habitually. \"Yeah, I'm a raccoon and German shepherd hybrid mix. Thus, a shep-coon. It's totally okay though - everyone gets me confused for one or the other. C'mon, I'll get you fed and tended to.\"\n\nMax approached the door and held it open for her to enter. He caught one last glimpse of the parking lot before entering in behind her. He wondered where she had learned to defend herself. Was it street smart videos? Were her parents in law enforcement? Maybe she'd encountered horny bastards like that in the past and gradually learned how to protect herself as a result? And what on earth was that bit she mentioned earlier, about her having 'seen bigger', anyways? As small as she was, Max cringed at the idea of this random cub-girl having lost her virginity at such a tender, youthful age. He reflected on how young he also was when he'd been molested by his father… perhaps roughly her age, if no younger. Maybe there really wasn't much of a difference between them after all? He shook the bitter memory of his own past free from his mind and entered into the hallway, treading back into the venue-space, leading her towards Enim-Noinu's dressing room. He thought she'd be fine with some snacks and hot tea or something, just to set her off comfortably, in light of all the madness they'd both just endured. Max also hoped they had seen the last of those three creepy rapist jerks for a long while.\n\n~\n\nThe crowds had dwindled down to virtually nothing by the time Max and the lynx-girl arrived at the Enim-Noinu dressing and rehearsal room, also known as \"Murry Chambers\". Max knocked two times, once then three times before entering. The lynx-girl gave Max a perplexed gaze.\n\n\"It's sort of an insider's trade secret - a special knock we established. To let each other know when we're entering. That way, I won't catch my drummer or guitarist with their pants down and vise-versa.\"\n\nShe tee-hee'd, covering her mouth with her dainty hand-paws, visibly blushing upon her cheeks. \n\n\"Oh, [i]that's[/i] always a good idea.\" She said. Max found her nervous shyness and her childish giggle nothing short of profoundly adorable. He held the large oak wood door open for her to enter. When she did, Max made a brief visible observation of her. A spry, lanky, underdeveloped feminine-figured lynx girl, no older than twelve or so, give or take. She had long, cedar-brown hair that was tied in a ponytail behind her cat-like head. She wore black polyester pants with pink legwarmers adorning both legs, size 5 or 6 kid's sized skateboarding sneakers upon her feet and a long-sleeved hoodie jacket, equally black and pink, with a pink backpack adjusted by straps resting upon her shoulders. On her black hoodie was a pink paw-pad symbol. A small puffy tail jutted free from behind her hoodie, through a generously-cut access hole against the base of her spine. Her face was vibrant and pretty, cheeks and big pointy fur-tufted ears sprinkled with small brown spots and a pink heart-shaped nose. This girl was crazy for pink! When she smiled, she exposed a perfectly white row of sharp, petite teeth. Good hygiene, another highlight to her overall personality. She knew how to tend to herself. Max admired her charm, her good graces, her punk-rock-inspired demeanor. He felt that if he were many years younger, he'd probably try to ask her out on a kiddie-date to a pizza parlor or an arcade palace.\n \nWhen she entered the dressing room space, Max let the door swing shut behind him. As it came to a stellar close, leaving behind a loud slam, Maile called out from a nearby bathroom, steam emanating from a cracked-open doorway. \n\n\"Max? Is that you? Please tell me you didn't invite any bimbos into the room! No hard powdered drugs allowed!\" She called out, slightly muffled by the fluid sounds of rushing water echoing from inside the bathroom. \n\n\"Not a chance, Mai-Mai! No bimbos here!\" Max replied aloud, winking reassuringly at the lynx-girl. She smiled and flexed her finger-paws together, twirling them against her belly, swaying from her heels to her toes, back and forth. \n\n\"Sit down, kiddo! Relax. Hang out, stay awhile. You certainly don't have to stand in that spot forever. In here, we all get along pretty well with each other.\"\n\n\"Okay.\" She said, curling her feline lips into a smug little grin. Max's heart melted. \"So, do you prefer milk or tea?\" He suspected he knew the answer already, but wanted to ascertain her decision regardless.\n\nShe trotted to a nearby sofa and plopped down into its warm leathery comforts. Her hoodie flung off her head and crumpled into a mass of cloth against her neck. \"Milk, please!\" She said, raising her finger-paw up into the air. Max nodded affirmatively, walked to a far corner of their rehearsal space and opened up an ice chest to remove a bottle of organic 1% low-fat milk. \n\n\"I don't think we ever even properly introduced ourselves yet, did we?\" Max asked as he poured some of the milk into a red plastic cup.\n\n\"No, we didn't.\" She replied, shuffling her legs up and down, kicking the air. She'd found a nearby drumstick and was air-clanging with it with one hand-paw. The other one she kept raised, finger-paws forked into devil horns, imitating a heavy metal all-star. Max was delighted beyond comprehension. This lynx-girl was different from most young anthro-cubs her age, less girly and frilly, way tougher and more bad-ass than usual - that suited him just as fine as could be.\n\n\"Okay, I'll start. My name is Maxwell. You call me that, or Max, Shep-coon… even Mapache. Whatever works for you, okay?\"\n\n\"Cool!\" She called out to him. \"My name is-\"\n\nThe bathroom door burst open and Maile, wrapped in a large bathing towel with her hair bundled up into a dampened, clamped-down wad, stepped through into the main dressing room, bringing in rivulets of steam from behind her equally dampened tail. Her hooves clopped against the floor with hollowed, wooden click-clacking strikes. \n\n\"Hey, Max, shower's free for you to use now! You can go in there and wash your smelly balls in peace and comf-\" Maile froze mid-sentence and glanced towards the couch. She made eye contact with the young lynx-girl. Her face brightened up into an awestruck flash of wonder and adoration. \"Who is this? Max, who… who is this… this… total CUTIE?!?\" Maile shuffled like a gleeful fanatic towards the girl, giggling loudly with her lips curled up into a thickened smile. Her goat hooves left dampened tracks across the carpet. The lynx-girl looked slightly embarrassed, yet embraced the open praise regardless. \"[i]Oooh, Maxwell! She's sooooo CUUUUTE!!![/i]\" Maile said, kneeling down in front of her, reaching out and grabbing the lynx-girl's petite feline hand-paws, holding them in Maile's own, rubbing her wrists with slender red panda-girl thumbs.\n\n\"She has a name… I think. You were about to tell me what it was…?\" Max asked, walking over to her with a plastic cup of milk in one hand-paw and a plate of peanut butter-spread graham crackers in the other.\n\n\"Yeah… I'm, uh... Amanda. Nice to meet you, Max and Mai-Mai!\" Amanda said politely, lips curled into a feline grin that could make even the most uptight cat-hater faint with adoration.\n\n\"[i]OOOOOOOMYGOSH!!![/i]\" Maile squealed at the top of her lungs, laughing like a teenage girl discovering eroge-hentai games for the first time.\n\n\"Amanda, huh? Right on! You look like an Amanda to me. Here, milk and treats for you. Enjoy!\" Max said, placing the milk cup and cracker plate down upon an end-table beside the sofa's armrest. \n\n\"Thank you, Mr. Max!\" Amanda said, eyes brimming with gratitude, smiling wide with impeccable youthful beauty. \n\n\"You're welcome, kiddo.\" Max said, winking and clicking his tongue. He stepped over Maile's freshly-washed tail and sat down on the other side of the large leather-bound sofa, hoisting Amanda into the air for a brief moment. \n\n\"Where are your parents, hon? Did you walk here all by yourself?\" Maile asked Amanda.\n\n\"Uh… I guess you could say that. I actually hitched a ride down the mountain from a friend of mine. He owed me a favor.\"\n\nMax and Maile looked at each other briefly with a hint of concern in their eyes. \n\n\"Is that so? Do you often hitch rides with older guys?\"\n\n\"Yeah, it's no big deal. Like I said, he's a friend of mine. He lives in a really cool cabin up the hill. We see each other often. He's really funny and smart and… well, a good friend. My parents don't mind either way if I hang out with him. He's a good cat.\" Amanda said, fidgeting her hand-paws against Maile's own, looking at the carpet, the goodies, the insulated ceiling pattern, a nearby rack of clothing, Bradley's guitar amp… anywhere but into Max and Maile's eyes. \n\n\"Okay hon, I'm gonna go get a quick snack. Do you want anything?\"\n\nAmanda shook her head timidly, lips pressed shut tight, shoulders hunched. Her pose suggested that she'd done something terrible and had been sentenced to a lengthy time-out. Maile walked over to the ice-chest, then pulled Max's wrist, tugging him along. When they reached a safe distance to speak privately, Maile snapped her finger-paw, a dawning reminder flashing in her face. \"Oh! If you wanna turn the TV on, hon, feel free to do so! We don't get very many channels but you might find yourself a video game or two to keep you occupied in the meantime!\"\n\nAmanda's face brightened up on the spot, looking at Maile with intrigue. \"Okay! Thank you, ma'am!\"\n\n\"You're welcome, sweetheart!\" Maile said with a smile. When the television clicked on, Maile leaned into Max's dreads and whispered into his ear. \"She's lying. I can tell from a mile away that she's totally fibbing her story.\"\n\nMax nodded, casting a quick glance towards Amanda. \"Maybe so, but let's not pressure her into saying anything she might regret, okay? She's too young for that sort of thing, so we'll just ensure she feels safe and secured before we decide to turn her loose. She's shy as a dickens, but she's apt to share a little more emphasis upon her situation if we just step back a bit and let her.\"\n\nMax and Maile both looked at the lynx-girl now, who was booting up a Nintendo Wii-U system, visibly excited beyond her years. \"Yeah, I guess that'd be fine.\" Maile remarked.\n\n\"So anyways, I sorta kinda rescued her from a few creeps outside just now. That's why I brought her here, for safe keeping.\"\n\n\"You what?!\" Maile said, voice raising slightly. \n\n\"Yeah, three older anthros were trying to have their way with her. I think their aim was to rape her, the sweet lil' thing. Not too sure, but she probably would've been much worse off had I not stepped in and intervened when I did.\"\n\n\"Oh, the poor dear…\" Maile cast a look of genuine concern towards Amanda. \"I'm just happy to see that she's well, but this sort of environment is no place for a young cub like her to be in, especially after-hours and most especially backstage! How did she get back here to begin with, anyways?\"\n\nMax shrugged, raising his shoulders up to his cheeks. \"I can't say for sure! I never even noticed her until I heard her getting rustled up by those bastards, in the back hallway, leading towards the rear entry doors. Do you think she came for the show?\"\n\n\"Hmm… not likely. She'd have to have a parent or a guardian of some form to gain entry. I wonder if she has a relative who works here, maybe a voluntary events coordinator or concessions vendor…\"\n\n\"Well, she seems pretty independent, so I can't say she's with anyone in particular - which in turn makes her case all the more curious, by far.\"\n\n\"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, then?\" Maile asked, looking into Max's one good shep-coon eye.\n\n\"Possibly.\" Max replied, reading Maile's expressive facial cues.\n\n\"We should ask her directly.\"\n\n\"You go first. I think she might not trust me to approach her with such a thing as that.\"\n\n\"Okay, Max. You sure?\"\n\n\"Woman's intuition is a powerful thing, Mai-Mai. I'm sure.\" Maxwell said. He clasped his hand-paw against Maile's shoulder and she gave his neck a gentle squeeze as they both turned their heads back towards Amanda. Judging by the lynx-girl's forlorn expression, Maile suspected she knew what was coming next. Maile walked with a clopping gait towards her while Max stood back to watch, surveying the scene.\n\n\"Honey, you don't have to feel bad about telling either me or Maxwell here, but did you run away from home?\" Maile asked her. Amanda just sat still, staring down into her lap, tight-lipped and silent. \"If you did, that's something we'd have to tell your parents about. As much as we'd like to help you, we can't exactly harbor runaway youth in our dressing room.\" Maile said. Amanda remained still as a statue, fidgeting with her own hand-paws nervously. Maile knelt down beside Amanda once more and brushed her hand-paw softly against the lynx-girl's cheek, planting a small maternal kiss upon her forehead. She jerked herself back upright and walked towards Max, brushing past him to proceed to a nearby dressing-room curtain to change into more suitable attire and yield to the shep-coon, allowing him a chance to make an advance upon their recent VIP guest.\n\nAs Maile retired into privacy, Maxwell knelt down beside Amanda and rubbed her shoulder. The lynx-girl broke her focus away from her lap and made direct eye contact with Max, staring with gracious eyes that sought out an unforeseeable truth amidst total chaos. \n\n\"Amanda, you don't have to feel bad to admit anything like that to anyone. We only want to help you. So, give it to me straight. Did you… y'know, run away?\"\n\nAmanda nodded. Max smirked and nodded back in return.\n\n\"Okay, hon. Okay… did you come here to watch the show, then?\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"No? Huh. Well, you said you got a ride here from a friend, right?\"\n\nHer lynx-head bobbed up and down. Maile peeked out from behind the curtain, keeping a steady eye on their verbal exchange.\n\n\"This friend of yours… is he your age?\"\n\nAmanda shook her head, frowning slightly.\n\n\"Older than you?\"\n\nShe nodded. \n\n\"How much older?\"\n\nAmanda counted the numbers in her head, briefly using her dainty pink-padded finger-paws as a calculator, then held nine feline digits up to Max's face.\n\n\"I know it's rude to ask and I'm sorry ahead of time, but how old are you, hon?\" Max asked Amanda. She took a nearby guitar pick and dragged it through one of the crackers, etching numbers into a layer of spread peanut butter. First a one, then a two. Twelve years old. Just as Maxwell had imagined.\n\n\"Twelve. That's a good age.\" Max said with a gracious smile, hoping to brighten Amanda's mood a bit. Amanda reached out and grabbed the shep-coon's arm, squeezing her grip tightly. Max gave a startled response at her suddenness. \n\n\"Max?\" Amanda blurted out with a voice slightly muted, barely audible.\n\n\"Yeah?\" Max replied, leaning in close to hear what she wanted to say.\n\n\"Do you guys have ice cream?\" She asked earnestly.\n\nMax smiled a big, goofy clown smile. \"Of course!\"\n\nAmanda's face lit up with swift pleasure.\n\nMaile exhaled a sigh of relief.\n\n~\n\n\"Oh, I'm winning! I'm winning! [i]You'll never defeat meeeee![/i]\" Amanda hollered, tapping away the buttons on her controller as she dominated Max and Maile at a video game, laughing hysterically. The room had a nicely-sized thirty-two-inch HDTV situated with all the hook-ups provided. Maxwell brought his cousin's Nintendo Wii-U and attached it to the device for the anthros to fiddle with during their down-time, since they'd rented out the space a few days in advance, mostly for rehearsing purposes. Now that their show was over, they had time to spare, to unwind and to get their lily-asses kicked hard by Amanda's gaming know-how.\n\n\"This little punk! Can you believe it? Here, I thought I was the champion of this game! [i]Dag-nammit![/i]\" Max said, mashing away the buttons on his controller relentlessly, touching his nose with the tip of his tongue in furious concentration. \n\n\"Yeah, man! It seems as if you're about to be dethroned by our newcomer! Who knew she was so freaking good at Splatoon, anyways?\" Maile said, giggling aloud. She'd changed into a more suitable outfit - a heavy-metal-inspired emo-goth chick's leather bra-top and striped skirt, with skull-covered cotton panties beneath. Her goat hooves bounced and tapped against the carpet as Maile timed her moves carefully, ringed red panda tail jerking and swaying excitedly behind her back.\n\n\"Not a chance in [i]heeeeell[/i], missy!\" Max said. He nudged and swayed along with the controller, feeling in touch with his character in-game. Maile and Amanda laughed at his involvement, wondering how he'd feel playing a fully 360-degree-immersive virtual-reality video game. \n\nWhen Max's inkling boy exploded into a myriad of paint and green ink, he groaned, raising his arms into the air, flexing his biceps in utter defeat. Maile and Amanda cheered aloud, whooping and gallivanting. Amanda raised her hand-paw up into the air and gave Maile a high-five. Maile hugged Amanda close to her cheek, squishing their faces together. \"You did [i]sooo good!!![/i]\" Maile said, sprinkling Amanda's forehead and fluffy ears with small butterfly kisses. The lynx giggled wildly, audibly purring aloud. Max nodded in a sore loser's sneer, crossing his arms, silently pouting. \n\n\"Yeah, laugh it up, ladies. Next time, you won't be so lucky!\" The shep-coon said in a playfully brash tone of voice, hooking a finger-paw towards Amanda. The lynx grabbed Max's finger-paw and nibbled the tip of it comically. \n\n\"Awww, says the sore loser, mister [i]cyclops-dog![/i]\" Amanda said, bursting into laughter immediately after. Maile's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She looked at Max, witnessed his forlorn expression and guffawed with her own unabashed laughter. Amanda snorted from laughing so hard and a tiny stream of milk flowed free from her nostril, forcing an even heavier comical response from Maile, even causing Max to blow a small raspberry from beneath his shep-coon lips.\n\nA loud 2-1-3 knock pattern thrummed against the main door. \n\n\"Come on in!\" Max hollered briskly. As the door swung open, in stumbled Brad, drunk beyond all comprehension. He was laughing quite heavily. As he stepped into the room, Brad lost his footing and slumped down to the carpet, landing on a nearby beanbag chair. He rolled onto the ground, laughing the entire way down. Amanda wiped her nose with a nearby tissue and watched the grown anthro-dog try to hoist himself back up off the ground, failing miserably with repeated attempts, enduring a massive struggle. She couldn't help but stare with immersed avidity. A grown-ass anthro-guy, rolling around on the ground like a big overgrown babyfur. Amanda knew what happened when too much alcohol was consumed (not from personal experience, but from witnessing others getting hammered at rock concerts), so she wasn't entirely affected… but it was still a hilarious sight to see, nevertheless.\n\n\"Welcome home, you lovely doggy-face!\" Maxwell called out loud. He stood up and skipped daintily towards Brad, kneeling down to tickle at his ribs and belly. Brad screeched and wailed, squirming like a hyperactive worm placed in a microwave. \n\n\"[i]GaAAAaaAH!!![/i] No tickles! No tickles!!! [i]STAAAAHHP!![/i]\" Brad screeched, voice higher in pitch than a pygmy girl giving skydiving a try. Maile laughed, shaking her head. She looked at Amanda and lavished over her dumbfounded expression.\n\n\"It's okay, honey - that guy was just ready to party a little harder than we were, that's all.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I guess… I think he needs a cup of cold water and a slap to the face!\" Amanda said in a factual tone. Maile chuckled aloud and nodded her head in agreement. \n\n\"Dude, you gonna be alright?\" Max asked Brad. No response came though, for Brad had fallen fast asleep against the floor beside Max's thighs. Maile and Amanda shared laughter when they heard him blurt out an audible snore. Max patted Brad's head companionably and reached over to grab a nearby pillow, slipping it effortlessly under the guitarist's cranium. \n\n\"Sleep tight, amigo.\" Max whispered, planting a brotherly kiss upon Bradley's muzzle. Maile and Amanda exchanged a glimpse and a grin between each other.\n\n~\n\nMaile used the bathroom while Max and Amanda turned to discussion: what types of rock music they enjoyed the most, their favorite flavors of ice cream, the best RPG card games and how healthy foods tasted like mildew-tainted athlete's foot fungus. Max played a few small standalone riffs on his bass guitar and Amanda danced to the rhythms, thoroughly impressing the shep-coon. She was a damn good dancer for a young cub-girl her age. She must've enjoyed practicing her moves in her spare time, apparently. When Brad awakened from his brief sobriety nap and spoke up, Max had finished a particularly funky riff and Maile had already exited the bathroom.\n\n\"What's up, Bradley-poo?\" Max asked the fennec-hybrid, now significantly more sober than he'd been upon entering into the room earlier. Amanda watched Brad with curious eyes.\n\n\"Almost forgot to give you guys our earned pay for the performance. Turns out they do pay for musical acts, even when there's charity involved. So here.\" Brad handed Maile a bill-fold of mixed tens and twenties, totaling out to $150. Max got an equal amount, which he stuffed into his rear jean pocket. While Max flipped through the bills in his hand-paws, ensuring the right amount was accounted for, he noticed Amanda's eyes focused upon the green papers from his peripheral vision, glued to them like a starving child staring at a taco-wagon. \n\n\"Work for a living, then you'll be able to earn your own money, kiddo.\" Max said, startling Amanda. Maile cocked her brow at Max, then pocketed her earned performance profits into her bra-top for safe keeping. \n\n\"Right. I know. It doesn't grow on trees.\" Amanda said, chipper and attentive. Max grinned and nodded. \"It's just… you guys make a lot, just from playing some music! I guess people really like hearing you perform, huh?\"\n\nMaile shrugged. \"Yeah, we usually receive mixed crowds. Some attend our shows to hear our songs, some attend to deal drugs, some to flirt and swoon over others - including us…\" Max emphasized this fact by laughing as falsely as he possibly could. \"And yet, others actually follow us regularly because they feel a certain attachment to us. Not for the music we play, not so much, but for the [i]style[/i] in which we play our stuff. You know what I mean, Amanda?\"\n\nAmanda thought about it, forehead furrowing into a pocket of ridges, eyebrows curled low against her eye sockets, tapping a finger-paw against her cheek, then nodded. \"Yeah, I suppose I do… I think.\"\n\n\"That's what we live for. That's what we [i]strive[/i] for.\" Maile walked forward and knelt back down to Amanda. The panda-hybrid brushed a single loose strand of bangs free from the lynx's face, leaned in and planted a companionable kiss upon her cheek. \"I'm very happy to have met you, Amanda. You are a beautiful young girl and will grow to become a gorgeous young feline woman. Never ever let anyone convince you otherwise. Can you remember that, hon? For me?\"\n\nAmanda nodded, eyes becoming watery, slightly dampened. She really grew to admire Maile in so short a period of time.\n\n\"Good girl. Chin up. You'll be fine in this life - I guarantee it.\" Maile smiled, then stood up and walked back towards Bradley, standing him up, raising one of his arms over her shoulders. \"I've gotta get our guitarist here into bed. I'd say he's pretty exhausted.\" \n\n\"You can say [i]that[/i] again, schweetheart!\" Bradley murmured in a slurry growl, forcing a chuckle out of Maxwell.\n\n\"Max, could you… y'know, take her where she needs to be?\" Maile asked Max. The shep-coon nodded and looked down to Amanda.\n\n\"You ready to hit the road, kiddo?\" Max asked her. Amanda nodded reluctantly, stood up, brushed crumbs off her lap and took a final swig from her cup of milk. Before Max guided her out from the dressing room, Amanda ran back over to Maile and hugged her waist tightly. Maile gasped and swooned, looking up at Max. They exchanged a look of pure graciousness. How humbled Maile felt right then and there! She hugged Amanda right back as hard in return, feeling the young lynx-girl purring beneath all her thick clothing. \n\nMaxwell held the door open for Amanda. Just as she stepped outside into the long, fluorescent hallway, she stopped and waved at Maile, smirking slightly. The sight was nothing short of a Kodak moment if there has ever been one.\n\n~\n\nMaxwell led Amanda out into the Enim-Noinu Econovan touring vehicle, the graceful old bird that delivered Max and Co. from one venue to the next in style for many years standing now.\n\n\"Okay, just guide me in the direction of where you want me to take you and I'll get you back before it becomes too late. Okay?\" Max said.\n\nAmanda nodded in agreement, buckling her seat-belt up and adjusting her hoodie against her shoulders. \"Got it!\"\n\nMax fished for the van's key in his pocket, inserted it into the ignition, turned the starter, fired off the engine and pumped the gas pedal a couple times to rev it into submission, also to get a head-start on the heater. He pulled a small gearshift lever attached to the wheel over to 1st gear and proceeded forward, pulling out of the seemingly empty parking lot.\n\n\"Okay, go straight a few blocks up this road and make a right. I'll tell you when exactly.\" Amanda instructed Max. \n\n\"Got it, kiddo.\" Max replied, looking both ways to ensure no cars were approaching from either side of his peripheral vision. When one had only a single eye to drive with, one proceeded in paying twice as much attention to one's general surroundings. A traffic signal light switched from green to yellow, forcing Maxwell to slow down and engage the clutch back to Park. As the light flickered red, Amanda purred aloud, giggling softly. Max glanced over at her. She was staring directly at the shep-coon, hardly even blinking, eyes boring into his soul.\n\n\"So you never asked me why I ran away from home, Maxwell.\"\n\n\"No, I suppose I didn't huh?\"\n\n\"Go on.\" Amanda insisted. \"Ask me.\"\n\n\"Okay. Amanda, why'd you run away from home?\"\n\n\"Because I was in dire need of sex.\"\n\nMaxwell's train of thought screeched to a halt. He was lucky the van wasn't in motion, otherwise he'd have to plunge it into one of the road's gravel-strewn emergency-only shoulder paths.\n\n\"Excuse me?\" Max said to Amanda with avid disbelief, staring at her with unease.\n\n\"Yeah. I know that wasn't very wise of me, since I could always just find a carrot or a cucumber or something like that to play with, but…\" Amanda shrugged. \"I dunno, just felt like letting an older guy screw me this time around.\"\n\nMaxwell slowly put the van into 1st and pulled into a nearby park-N-ride. Upon entering, he found a reasonably private spot and parked, shutting the engine off, sitting perfectly still, staring at Amanda, unsure of what to say in response to her primary reasoning. He was flabbergasted over her blunt honesty.\n\n\"You know how hard it is for a girl like me to develop these… sensations from such a young age? I really craved a guy's mass in my slit-spot and I knew I could always go to a rock show and tease a few morons to acquire what I craved. However, those assholes you helped chase away earlier had other ideas in mind for me. If I'd only known their true intentions, I never would've flashed my panties at them or played hard-to-get.\"\n\n\"So… they didn't actually jump you first, you [i]forced[/i] them to approach you?\"\n\n\"If dancing naughty and licking at my finger-paws while eyeing them down is considered forcing, then… yeah, I guess I forced them to come at me.\"\n\nMax shook his head, rubbing his brow with his thumb and index finger-paw, as if consoling a bad headache. Amanda felt a dire pit of grief in her chest, knowing she'd be judged and disciplined, treated like a dumb little baby cub, told to never approach Max or his band members or any of their concerts ever again.\n\nInstead, Max just snickered, unbuckled his safety belt, and leaned in to kiss Amanda on her velvety-smooth lips. Amanda reeled back in shock and surprise at his sudden advances. Max reached down to caress her thigh in his hand-pawed grip, rubbing at her leg sensually. His thumb came dangerously close to her sensitive region and she whimpered.\n\n\"Amanda, Amanda… if only you could've kept your cool for a moment longer, I'm sure I would've shown you far more… enticing pleasures… than those dumb asses could have ever dreamed of.\" Maxwell said, low and coy, almost in a snarl. He brushed his hand-paw up her leg, across her crotch and dragged it beneath her shirt, rubbing up her belly, touching her underdeveloped breast, pinching at her small nipple, twirling and flicking at it teasingly. She moaned and breathed deep, gasping and shivering with each nuanced touch. Max's other hand-paw caressed the back of her head as he opened his maw wide and shoved his tongue deep into her mouth, brushing against her small bristly cat-tongue, her sharp teeth, the serrated fleshy roof of her muzzle. He lavished in her taste, her scent, her gorgeous beauty. Maxwell wanted her in ways he couldn't even begin to comprehend. Amanda's crotch began to feel itchy, tingly, dampened and right... oh so right.\n\n\"Amanda… have you ever been… fucked… by another guy… before?\" Maxwell asked her slowly, cupping her nape in his grip, brushing his thumb-paw against her jaw-line, tickling her nose with his long shep-coon whiskers. The lynx-girl nodded, visibly embarrassed and nervous as hell. This turned Max on harder than he cared to admit. He could literally feel himself leaking pre-cum as he gazed deep into Amanda's trembling, aroused eyes.\n\n\"How about a guy… like me?\" Max said. He reached down to unhinge her pants, to pull them down and slip them off her ankles, to expose her sweet little underage lynx-girl vagina, to finger and tease her, to drive her into a euphoric rush of unhinged bliss. Amanda fluttered her eyelids open and shut, gazing lovingly at Max's face, then shook her head. \"Oh, then you'll love what I have in store for you, then.\" His words emanated pure sex and his voice glided into her ears like rich honey, sweet molasses, a scrumptious treat to feast upon for hours on end.\n\nMax reached down past her hips and he pulled a lever, causing Amanda's passenger seat to fling backwards, She rolled free from her laid-back position and tumbled down upon a bundle of soft blankets and pillows in the back of the van. A strange, musky smell lingered in the rear of the vehicle, like a sickly-sweet earthen skunk-stench. Something very similar to what concert-goers often sparked and blazed when the music got really good. Maxwell had also unbuckled her seat beat with mysterious grace, working as steadily as a natural-born Houdini. When Amanda gained her bearings, Max was already looming over her body, smiling with wicked deviancy. His eye-patch had been removed and his socket was fitted with an ocular prosthesis that showed a small eight-ball with a crack running through the middle of its spherical surface. Max, stripped free of his jeans, panted with hungry sexual prowess as his large knotted shep-coon penis dangled freely, erect and stiff as a rod, throbbing, rosy-red and sweltering with the potent scent of masculinity and canine musk. The mix of different scents forced Amanda to breathe deep and fast. She was beyond nervous now, scared at how big he was and what he intended to do to her. She was only so little, could only handle so much dick inserted into her body, and yet as thickly aroused as she had been since the day before…\n\n\"Spread your legs for me, little bitch… I'm gonna fuck your brains out and make you scream my name out loud as you cum for me.\" Max growled, holding onto one of her small dainty shins, keeping her forcibly spread. Amanda nodded and placed her other leg against Max's waist-side, fully spread now, exposed and nervous, so very nervous. Her breathing increased more and more as the blankets beneath her butt rustled and crumpled. Amanda could hear traffic passing by just outside the van's wide-opening rear doors, could hear voices and commotion and the entire world in motion. She heard these things for a brief moment, then her hearing vanished into a dull buzzing drone. Now all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Maxwell heaving breaths in and out against her ear and cheek as he thrust himself forward into her, forcing a sweltering pain to sear through her entire body. Amanda yelped and yowled, extending her lynx-claws, dragging them against Max's chest and arms, cutting him deep, drawing blood. He just laughed and kept on humping her, pushing deep and hard, licking at his blackened canine lips, stretching her swollen, sensitive vagina out wide, fully absorbed in the moist, enduring sensations of her sweet lynx-girl twat. He lowered his head down and licked at her tiny breasts and nibbled upon her nipples for a brief moment, which caused Amanda's legs to jerk and her knees to buckle outward, toe-paws curling inward, body shifting and churning relentlessly, feeling Max's shep-coon tongue dragging up her neck and across her jawline, giving her a passionate wet-willy. Amanda grit her teeth, clenching down upon his fond embrace, tightening her groin muscles immeasurably, forcing Maxwell to thrust harder into her, rocking the van upon loosened suspension shocks.\n\n\"Ah! Yes! Gonna fuck you 'til you bleed, little whore! I bet all the guys you've fucked in the past never loved you at all, huh? I bet all those sexual occurrences were just ways to gain admiration with older gentlefurs, huh? A way to fuel your own self-esteem, huh? You are nothing more than a stupid little weakling, a dumb little emo-rocking baby pussy bitch, huh? Huh?! Answer me when I'm talking to you!\" Max snarled, gripping her neck, choking her briefly while he licked her muzzle, breathing hot and heavy against her ear. Amanda felt equally scared and aroused at his demeaning advances, knowing that he was somewhat right in his presumptions of her.\n\n\"Aaaaaah, please don't do me so hard! Please! Please! [i]PLEASE!!! Not so hard, you… you moron![/i]\" Amanda screamed out loud. Max laughed and gnawed at her neck playfully, refusing to honor her wish, only humping faster and harder into her. Amanda's legs wrapped tightly around Max's waist, thighs pinning against his hips. When Max began to breathe harder, ready to blow his load, Amanda jutted her tongue out and moaned feverishly, hearing Max's cock slap in and out of her ripe, underage lynx-girl pussy, feeling his testicles smacking equally hard against her puckered tailhole, ready to blow a fuse and endure a superior shared orgasm. Amanda was in heat and demanded a rock-hard, hot, sultry fuck for some time now. Little did she know that she had access to one in the form of her shep-coon hero, the one-eyed rock-star hybrid who helped her recuperate and feel good about herself again after having rescued her from perverted rapists, who decided to show his true colors at the mere mention of her interest in fucking older anthro guys in the back of a touring van parked in a public park-N-ride. Amanda loved the feeling of Max's big thick shep-coon dick slamming hard and heavy into her repetitively, filling her wide, feeling Max's heartbeat inside her body, hearing his whispers of encouraging naughtiness echo into her ear, knowing and feeling how close he was, ready to bust a nut or two and drain a month's supply of pent-up spunk into her belly, to choke or slap her while he came hard and balls-deep into her, to bite her neck or lick her flat chest while she screamed and uttered his name repeatedly, shivering in an orgasmic state of lust, pure bliss, raw, real, raunchy, ready to fuck hard and fast, to squirt her sweet seminal fluids upon his chest and sit on his handsome face, drowning his fuzzy chin and grey muzzle in her lynx-girl nectar and licking his big knotted shep-coon dick clean of her candy-flavored lynx-syrup, becoming his favorite groupie cub-whore to fuck for hours on end over and over again, to stroke his dick and swallow his jizz and satiate his hunger and lavish in his desires and-\n\n~\n\n\"Max? Max? Wake up!\" Amanda yelled, snapping her finger-paws in front of Maxwell's face. He'd nodded off at a stoplight, long-since turned green. Vehicles honked in an extended line behind the van. He shook the hideously taboo fantasy out of his mind, looked at Amanda with a riveting gaze, then cleared his throat and put the clutch into first, accelerating forward. The cars behind him quit honking their horn at long last, going along on their own separate ways.\n\n\"Sorry. Got lost in thought for a moment there.\" Max said, trying to come to terms with what he'd been fantasizing about. He gave Amanda a weird little glance, feeling stupid and guilty. Amanda said nothing, only kept her eyes open and fixated upon the road, the cars, the night sky brimming with stars spanning among the hundreds of thousands.\n\n[i]I'm not a pederast… I'm not a pederast, I'm not a pederast - I'm not a goddam pederast! I helped her out, I showed her a good time, no need to spoil it all by becoming a demon myself! Keep your fantasies in your own mind, shep-coon! Don't screw her! Whatever you do, anything but that! Dude, don't even touch her funny! Just take her where she needs to go and that's that. No problem! No harm, no foul! You fought off assholes trying to rape her, don't assume that role before the night's end! Just play it cool, play it safe, play it-[/i]\n\n\"Hey, pull over right there. That's my road, Max.\" Amanda blurted out, breaking Max's mental mantra. Max cleared his throat, grunted aloud and pulled the Econovan over into a low ditch, muddy and tarnished. The road she pointed out led into a tangle of trees and endless wheat fields. Max wondered if she didn't happen to live in a cabin or a farm house or maybe just a trailer or something. \n\n\"Okay, there you go, kiddo. Your stop! You sure you don't want me to drive you in?\" Max insisted. \n\n\"Yeah, this is fine. Thank you!\" Amanda said with a grateful smile. \n\nHe held a fist up and lowered it a couple times, imitating himself pulling a train horn. Amanda opened the door, unbuckled her safety belt, hopped out and stopped mid-way. She turned around and regarded Maxwell with wide open eyes. Max cut his charade short. \"Woah, everything okay, Amanda? Did you forget something back in the room? You did, didn't you?\" Max asked with a goofy voice, strangely reminiscent of old-time boxing announcers.\n\n\"No. I just… wanted to say something, before I have to leave, before I go back up the hill, before we part ways.\"\n\n\"Okay then.\" Max said, relaxing casually, opening up to hear Amanda's parting statement.\"What's up, buttercup?\"\n\n\"Back there, when you attacked those jerks who tried to… y'know, have at me…\"\n\n\"Yeeeah?\" Max let his word draw out slightly. Amanda stared into empty space, conjuring the words necessary to make her statement last. Her eyes widened and she regarded Maxwell with a solemn gaze. \n\n\"Well, I really didn't expect to lash out and attack them the way I did. I think seeing you arrive gave me the courage to do that. If it weren't for you… well, let's just say I was terrified of those guys before you showed up. Absolutely [i]terrified[/i].\" Amanda confessed, shivering at the thought. Max noticed slight hints of moisture forming upon the corners of her gorgeous almond-crescent lynx-girl eyelids. \n\n\"Well, that's fine. Nothing to feel ashamed about. I can't tell you how many times I've fought against very similar assholes just like those chumps we ran into and felt beyond scared. Not just for my life, but for the lives of others as well. You handled yourself considerably fine tonight, young miss. If nobody else comes out to say it, allow me to be the one to tell you that… I'm proud of how well you conducted yourself, Amanda. Very proud indeed.\"\n\nAmanda nodded her head, blushing thickly behind her fur-tufted cheeks, remained paused for a very brief moment, then hoisted herself across the seat and planted a nice wet kiss upon Maxwell's muzzle. Her lips were soft and smooth, pleasing to the touch. Max's heart jump-started in his chest and he suddenly felt strangely aroused. She slid back out of the van, closed the door and knocked on the passenger side's window. Max rolled it down by reaching over to spin a small lever counter-clockwise.\n\n\"That was for helping me earlier with those dirt-bags, Maxwell. I… never really got a chance to thank you for that. So.\" Amanda waved and winked. \"Thank you!\" \n\n\"Hey, any time, Amanda. If you ever need anything, anything at all…\" Max grabbed a post-it note stack and a pen from a middle glove-compartment between the two front seats. He scribbled down his name and cell phone number, then pulled the adhesive sheet free and handed it to her. \"Just give me a call or text or whatever. I'll be sure to come to your aid, no matter what.\"\n\nAmanda glanced at the number, then snickered with her nose scrunched up. Max cocked his brow in curiosity. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\"How in the heck do you pronounce your last name??\" Amanda asked as seriously as she could muster. Maxwell laughed aloud, slapping his forehead. She tittered in return, still looking desperately confused. \"I'm sorry, but… what the heck, man?!\"\n\n\"Yeah, that's a toughie, isn't it?\" Maxwell said. Amanda nodded, shrugging her shoulders. \"Tell you what. Just call me Mr. B.\" Amanda smiled, nodding happily. \"Or better yet, how about plain ol' Max. Sound good?\" She jumped up in the air and winked while giving the 'A-OK!' hand-paw gesture. \n\n\"Yeah! That works for me! My last name is much easier to remember anyways - its 'Scratch'.\"\n\n\"Amanda Scratch. Light of my life, apple of my eye.\" Maxwell recited, like fine poetry. Amanda appeared to be blushing heavily beneath her tufts of cheek-fur.\n\n\"Okay, Max! Thanks again for the lift! And the yummy milk and crackers! And…\" Amanda's ears lowered down to her head and her eyes sweltered wide, trembling with early hints of flowing tears, shed to convey grateful joy. \"Well, everything. Thank you. I… uh, I…\" Maxwell waited for her to drop the bomb-shell, all in due time but before she could, he removed the wad of cash he'd made from his jeans pocket and handed her one hundred dollars' worth. Amanda Scratch's jaw became unhinged, drooping down to her neck. Her pretty green eyes grew as wide as teacup platters.\n\n\"Don't even try to argue with me. You are one cool kid and I'd feel bad if you had to call a cab to get home or something. Consider that my compensation for your safety. Take it easy, Amanda Scratch. Remember: [i]call me if you need anything at all[/i].\"\n\n\"I… I… [i]I love you![/i]\" Amanda screeched aloud. Chilled vapor flowed from her mouth in hazy torrents. She waved again and turned around to run as fast as she could, back up her street (or maybe up the street of her 'good friend', who knew for sure?), running right out of Maxwell's sight and life. Max felt liberated, redeemed, much better than ever before.\n\n\"Huh. What a total cutie she was. I hope she finds her way in life, instead of spending it all on condoms or catnip or something.\" Max said, snickering at the idea.\n\nAs he sat for a moment to gather his thoughts, Max shifted the van back into 1st gear but before he had a chance to leave, his phone buzzed and the text message indicator chimed. He engaged the clutch and jerked the van back into Park, fishing his cell phone out from his pocket. A small blue light flickered from the top-right corner of his screen, indicating to Max that a new message had arrived.\n\n\"Oh, probably Maile checking in on me to see how things are going. Let's see…\"\n\nMax activated his phone, unlocked it to display his home page (with a background image of Layne Staley and Jerry Cantrell playing an acoustic Alice in Chains show) and opened up the new text message. It wasn't sent by Maile, but rather from a woman named Penelope Peahen. It was a reminder to Maxwell that in a week's time, he was due to arrive at her ranch for sustained assisted work labor.\n\n\"Oh yeah! Peacock-woman! That's right! Man, I'm glad she reminded me about this, I'd nearly forgotten! Shoot, maybe I'll luck out and wind up working alongside a pretty farmhand maiden, or even a farmer's daughter. That'd set me right as rain. We'll see, won't we? Yes we will, mister shep-coon. We'll see, alright.\"\n\n[right]END[/right]", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Nobody else actually noticed the young lynx-girl getting heckled by perverted assholes until Maxwell did.

~

"Another solid performance, you guys! Way to go! Drinks are on me tonight!" Bradley hollered, ecstatic and flustered. His eyes glimmered with hyperactive excitement as if he'd gotten a head-start on Mr. Jose Cuervo just a few shots too early. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, coursing into his synapses, driving his happiness to epic proportions.

"Did we really do that well? Man, I kept hearing feedback glitches from Max's bass amp rig." Maile said, shrugging her shoulders. "No offense, shep-coon, but I did." Brad cleared his throat, bending down to touch his toes, jutting his tail up into the air behind him restlessly.

"Nah, I ain't offended by that. My bass tech, though? He should be." Maxwell said curtly, smiling wide with sinister deathly crazed intensity. "Oh yes, he surely should be." Max swiveled his head back and forth, his one good eye scoping every nook and cranny of the venue's long hallway, cluttered with crew members, security personnel and anthro groupies aplenty, both young and old, some with fanboy lovers and most single and ready to mingle with whoever they could. "Say, where is the scrawny little shit anyways? RORY!!! I got a bone to pick with you, ya lil' fuckin' bastard!" Max called out, kneeling down to peek underneath a nearby table smothered with cables and pedals being rolled away into a nearby storage room. Max kept gawking around with his eye opened wide, seeking out the bulldog bass technician responsible for ensuring Max's sounds produced crisp, clear, deep throbbing low notes. Tonight, Rory fucked up significantly. Luckily, Bradley and Maile had no issues with their gear set-ups, so not all hope was lost for a fatty bonus tip from the location's property manager, something Brad was most excited about.

"Shep-coon, you're just overreacting." Maile said, rolling her goat-iris eyes sarcastically. "So do me a solid and stop acting like a giant moist pussy." Maile blurted out. Bradley guffawed stupid laughter while popping his knuckles, leaning backwards to hear his back snap and pop. Max's muzzle scrunched up into a sneer.

"Oh yeah? Bite me six shades to Sunday, princess." Max retorted.

"I'll get Sammy to do that dirty deed before I consider such a decision, you dick-face." Maile said, rolling her goat-eyes.

"Oh, joy! Lo and behold! You'd send your fuck-toy in your stead? To bite me?! God, how flattering! I should feel truly lucky, knowing Maile's pet German shepherd will give me a proper biting where the sun don't shine. Ha! Pathetic!!" Max exclaimed. A couple large gorillas loading up the band's gear stopped and pondered towards the three performing anthros, slightly miffed over their heated exchange.

Maile inhaled, snorted a tiny plume of fire from her nostrils and gave Maxwell a stern glare. "Shep-coon? Go fuck yourself."

"Oh, with pleasure, trash-panda. You want me to use my thumb or my big toe-paw to perform the dirty deed?" Max asked, grinning sardonically. Maile socked Max hard in his belly, causing the shep-coon to laugh hysterically, even though a sudden burst of pain seeped into his guts.

"Relax, buddy! You did fine! Shit, we all did fine." Bradley said, clapping his hand-paws together.

"Yeah, we did!" Maile said, raising her arms high above her head, rubbing her biceps against her ram-horns, winking at Max, who returned the wink with a raspberry, all in good teasing fun.

"Too true! I mean it, we knocked this show right outta the park! The SUCK will surely be satisfied now, especially with that performance!" Bradley exclaimed, whiskers jittering, large gamboge fox-eyes flushed with admiration. Bradley giggle-snorted at how damn overjoyed he felt. Rarely did Brad ever become this joyous over anything, let alone another routine show performed. It was a spectacle to behold for Maile and Maxwell, who just stared in dead-pan silence, unsure of how to respond. Bradley regretted not having a camera with him to capture the moment. Maxwell broke the awkward silence.

"Uh, 'the suck'? Hey Bradley-san, just exactly what the fuck is that?" Max asked with avid curiosity, head cocked, eyes pondering freely, nose twitching in a state of profound confusion. Maile chortled at her bassist's reaction.

"It’s the organization we dedicated this show towards, shep-coon!" Brad said, rustling Max's chest-fur playfully. "The reason why we even bothered playing tonight! That's what!"

Max stared at Brad with a blank face, devoid of expression. Bradley and Maile giggle-snorted at each other, covering their noses with their hand-paws. "Oh, Maxwell… you don't know, do you?" Brad asked.

"Enlighten me, fuck-tard." Max said, shrugging his shoulders. Maile massaged Max's neck briefly, making the shep-coon moan satisfactorily.

"It means 'The School for Underprivileged Cubs and Kits', abbreviated to: The S.U.C.K.!" Bradley said, arms spread out wide.

Max scoffed, shaking his head.

"God, what an ignorant fucking abbreviation. I swear, a monkey could come up with a better name."

The gorillas reared up and snorted at Maxwell, frowning and clobbering their chests with large hairy fists.

"No offense, fellas!" Max said, hand-paw raised towards the heavy-bodied mammalian apes.

"Yeah, not as ignorant as your face, and monkeys are smarter than you give 'em credit for, so pipe down." Maile said in a low voice.

"Blow a llama, Mai-Mai. Seriously." Max growled.

"Age before beauty, fag-weed! Seriously." Maile replied with dry sarcastic wit in her tone.

"Ay caramba, chica!"

"Yup. You know you love it, shep-coon." Maile said, grinning deviously.

"That's the problem, girl." Maxwell flung his dreadlocks back from his face, freeing his forehead and reclaiming his 50/50 vision. "I might love it TOO much!"

Maxwell shook his head some more. Brad snickered, rubbing his slick-furred fennec-collie head nervously.

"Yeah, I know, it’s dumb as shit, but it certainly gets its point across. You see, it really sucks to see how many younger anthros don't get nearly as much acknowledgement as human children do, especially in terms of schooling and higher education development and opportunity." Brad said, speaking freely and concisely. "That's why we embraced this non-profit charitable donor-drive and played a show for them - to raise ample awareness of their goals and incentives. Cool, huh?" Brad smiled wide, proud as hell over his executive decision to book Enim-Noinu in a performance for this particular gig, standing with righteous splendor in his pose.

"That's really cool, man. Now I'm glad we performed here. Gosh, I hope we get paid substantially and equally well for this!" Max insisted.

"That's what I'd like to find out about soon enough too, shep-coon. If we played for charity, no go there. But if the owners find our performance suitable enough and then some, well… bonuses all around!" Bradley exclaimed. Maile cleared her demonic throat, nodding with figurative understanding. Max patted his hips with his paw-padded palms in a drum-roll.

"Alright, you hard-rocking ragamuffins!" Max announced, wrapping his arms around Brad and Maile's necks, caressing their shoulders. Maile's goat hooves dragged across the wooden backstage flooring as she giggled. Brad caught a deep whiff of Max's odorous underarm-pits and felt a strange fleeting sensation of bliss sweep over him, not sure why he never before noticed how damn hot Max smelled after a heavy performance. Brad felt as if he were developing a straight fur's gay crush on Max with every show they played, every venue they traveled to and toured at, every waking moment spent with the wild and crazy shep-coon hybrid. Max chuckled as he hugged his band members tight against his body, lightly kissing their foreheads. "We're gonna get drunk as skunks tonight and celebrate our performance in style!!" Harvey, a skunk stage-hand and voluntary head of security, gave an awkward glance towards Max, eavesdropping in on his statement. The skunk walked away, whispering beneath his raspy breath. "Dude, not all skunks are alcoholics, you biased aggregate dirt-bag."

Brad cracked a sardonic smile and shook his head, freeing himself from Max's underarm head-lock. "Well, as tempting as a bottle of brewsky sounds, unfortunately I won't be joining y'all tonight for that sort of thing. Got some issues that need resolving with Rory, for one, and I need to negotiate our pay with the owners of the venue for another. Priorities first, you guys. You know that, right?"

"Awwww, duuuuude!!! C'mon! Fuck Rory! He'll get stuck in a shitter somewhere and we can find him then! The pay will come all in due time, Bradley! This is serious business, dude." Max groaned, falling limp and nearly pulling Maile down with him. Maile lifted Max's flimsy and rubbery arm off her shoulder and let it swing raggedly down against Max's waist side.

"Max, he might have a point." Maile insisted.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Not you too!!" Max yelled. His face curled into a misbegotten pout, frowning with frustration over the group's lack of fun times had over a bottle of bubbly or maybe something stronger to suit the occasion.

"Sorry, Max, but Bradley is right - priorities first. Maybe later? Take a raincheck for me." Maile said. She caressed Max's shoulder, brushed her bristly hand-paw against Max's cheek and nodded affirmatively. As Brad walked back towards the consultation office, holding a clipboard with notes pertaining to the show's pros and cons, Maile sighed aloud, hugging up against Max's body, pressing her snout against his breastplate.

"Maile-san, it looks to me as if we'll be boozing it up alone, babe." Max said, still hugging against his drummer. Maile leaned her head upon Max's shoulder, poking her nose against his larynx, feeling it throb slightly, hoping not to prod his cheeks or neck with her thick, curled ram-horns.

"Okay… but could we at least go back to the dressing room? I need to change into some clean clothing, not to mention tidy up a little. Or is that you I smell, you dirty dog?"

"I doubt it. Must be your upper lip. And goodness gracious, Mai-Mai, is your vag really that dirty? That's very unbecoming of a girl of your stature. I thought all drummers, especially female ones, were supposed to tend to their filthy puds on a regular basis."

"Shit, man, wouldn't you like to know?" Maile pinched Max's nipple hard, nearly pulling his chained piercing right off. Max screeched and yelped. He leaped back, flinching from the red panda/goat-demon hybrid.

"AAAH! Not the nipple! Not the nipple!" Max chanted with a high-pitched squeal, forcing a braying laugh out of Maile.

"And for your information, fuck-tard, my vagina is not a 'pud'! In fact, you're the only 'pud' I see anywhere around here right now!" Maile said, eyes blazing with jaded emerald green, wickedly attractive. Max held his hand-paws up in a surrendering yield, smiling graciously.

"Yeah, okay then. Go on ahead, I'll meet you there." Max said, relaxing from his sudden burst of excitement, re-adjusting his dreadlocks behind his shoulders.

"Will do. Try not to find any dirty hookers to be invited into our dressing room this time, would you please?" Maile asked Max with a stern, serious expression.

"For you, my dear? I shall invite twenty of 'em. All with dirty Southern hillbilly names."

"Dammit, shep-coon! Do that and I'll punch all their stupid ho-bag teeth out, suggesting whether or not they even have any to spare." Maile replied, snarling slightly. "I'm serious, you motherfucker. No whores. Not tonight. I lack the patience for such a thing."

"Fine, fine! You have nothing to worry about, Maile. I promise."

"I've got my eyes on you, pal."

"Which parts of me you gawkin' at, Tits McGee?"

"God, you are such a delightful jackass. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Every fucking day, kiddo." Max said with a companionable wink. "But that's why you find me irresistible. You and damn-near everyone else out there."

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Just go find Rory so we can move on with our lives, would you?" Maile said, patting Max's chest.

"Ten-hut!" Max barked aloud, standing in a mock-salute, smacking his hand-paw against his forehead. Maile snickered, shaking her head, cocking her wrist at the shep-coon. Max chuckled as he parted ways with the red panda-hybrid girl, in hopes of finding his short-round bulldog bass technician, so that Max can nail his chubby fat ass to a wall for fucking up the bass delivery as abrasively as he did. Rory was in for a class-act scorning from beyond the grave. As the day dwindled down and the sun set past the distant horizon, settling into nightfall, Max didn't exactly run into Rory, but he did encounter another smaller anthro… smaller and far younger than ever to be expected.

~

Supply closets and empty rooms, hundreds of cubic feet in storage space, yet not a single sign of just one goddam stupid little bulldog. Maxwell began to grow frustrated over his lack of success in finding Rory, wondering if the bastard wasn't hiding from Max intentionally, evading a quick lashing-out. One way or another, he'd receive a proper scorning in the name of discipline.

Max was by no means a perfectionist, nor did he demand anything too highly of those who he worked with. His expectations were never set too high for the crew responsible for all the technical aspects of his band's touring premeasures - from the lighting techs to the drivers (which there were very few, mostly on voluntary participation and mostly related to their touring manager Gus somehow - a cousin here, a grandson there, all in the family), everyone had their mutual part to play in the outcome of every show Enim-Noinu performed. Some went exceedingly well, others just became massive shit-storms before the third song on the set list. A couple moshers would engage in fist-fights that wound up calling off the music and conjuring the paramedics; a large anthro wolf stud would forcibly rape a small otter girl and get dragged away by beefy-butch security guards, rhinos or dragons mostly; an overdosing hipster-spider anthro would be carried by the crowd, hoisted to the front of the general admission floor, frothing from his spindly mouth, relocated to a cot with water and ibuprofen, heart monitors set upon his abdomen. Paramedics were often prepped for any best or worst-case scenario, composed of wolves, cheetahs, field mice... sometimes Maxwell wondered how many lucky chance-encounters he, Brad and Maile have had in the past not to end any given show with a massive riot under their noses. They played grunge rock, not heavy metal, but there was always still a superiorly profound ass-hat or two who ruined the experience for everyone else involved by way of a stupid fucking decision or several. No guns drawn against the band while on-stage (thank goodness!) or crazed sex-fiends chasing Bradley while wearing a neon pink strap-on. Things could always be way worse in the long run. Enough years devoted to the road can really screw with a musician's head like crazy. Maxwell was fine with taking things easy, step by step, day by da-

"You will honor his wish and give him what he wants or else we're gonna hurt you, little bitch!"

Max gasped and stepped quickly behind a large pillar jutting free from a cemented wall in the hallway he was traveling down. Somehow, he'd bypassed all the masses of crowds and arrived in a barren, seemingly-abandoned area, neglected by the others. Max heard the struggling grunts of a female, a young girl from the sound of it. Max closed his eyes and squinted his lids tight. He detected three older presences with a significantly smaller one, much shorter than the rest and far more petite in body shape and tone.

"Fucking stupid-ass groupie rapists, they have no clue what they're in for." Max whispered to himself silently.

Max prepared to step around the pillar extension and kick one of the bastards in his scrawny nuts, then frighten the other two off with a little brash tough-guy talk, something he felt especially skilled at doing. Instead, the younger presence managed to find a means of attempting a last-ditch escape effort. Max saw shadows protrude from the end of the hallway, illuminated by a patch of outdoor fluorescent bulbs that glared with intense bright light. A young girl's heavy panting emanated through the hallway, echoing off the stone walls, as she pushed open a door and the three older males (judging by their silhouetted muscular builds and masculine-sounding voices) chased after her. No way would Maxwell sit idly by while letting such a young, innocent female (maybe even a potential student of the very S.U.C.K. he'd just finished playing a show for with his band-mates) get raped or harmed by a few dick-less losers.

~

Maxwell pushed the door open with his shoulder and saw three anthros pestering a young girl.

"HEY, YOU FUCKS! PAWS OFF!!"

Max ran and body-tackled one of them to the blacktop. The first assailant, a cheetah, grunted and collided with a thudding crash. Max hit him hard enough to cause one of his sneakers to fly free from his foot-paw. The other two, a wolf and a squirrel, spun around quickly, visibly startled. Wolf-dude reached into one of his rear jean pockets and removed a switchblade, twirling his arm in a flash, exposing glinted steel. He pointed it at Max while the shep-coon stood up quickly, fists raised in self-defense.

"Hey, fag, lay off! She's our catch, you go find your own pussy to violate!" Wolf-dude snarled.

"I'm gonna say this once and only once. Put that shit away and get gone. Trust me, you fellas don't need me in your conscience. I don't want any bloodshed tonight, but if you keep it up, that's exactly what you'll get."

"Jeez, dude, who spat in your Corn Flakes?" The squirrel asked Max. The young girl, an anthro lynx-cub, looked up at Max with desperate eyes… only for a brief moment. Within a split-second, her expression shifted from that of a frightened girl in need of help to a determined rogue with nothing to lose. She reared her leg way back behind her body and swung it forward, plunging her foot-paw directly into Wolf-dude's gonads. The squirrel jumped back in response and gasped. Maxwell's eyes opened wide in shock as the poor wolf bastard fell to the ground, squealing and yipping, uttering a wounded dog's cry. He rolled crookedly into a nearby gutter, caressing his groin in extreme visible pain. The lynx-girl spun around and swiped her hand-paw across Squirrel-guy's face, cutting into his cheek with extended cat-claws. He hollered and twirled on his ankles, reeling to the pavement, banging his head roughly against a cement parking curb. A tooth plopped free from his mouth - one of his two nut-chompers. Unfortunate, but not entirely unwelcome.

"Uugh… holy ph… phit, my toof! Fuggin' shtupid lil' bish brog my goddam toof!" Squirrel-guy said through bitter weeping and a severe lisp, sounding downright pitiful. The cheetah wrapped his arms around Max's ankles in a feeble attempt to bring him down, maybe beat him senseless for intruding upon their diabolical plans. The girl ran up to Max, pausing briefly to kneel down and grab Wolf-dude's switchblade upon her approach. She pawed at Cheetah-man's hair (a goldenrod yellow) and held his head up, groaning at the heaviness of his dead-weight, then she placed the blade against his throat.
 
"Thought you could just rape an innocent young cub like me, huh? Well guess what? Not everyone is into that sort of thing like you perverts are. If you had half a brain in your stupid head, you'd listen to this raccoon and get the heck out of here if you knew what was good for you. When you go, leave and never come back. If I find out you tried this on any of my friends, I swear I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

"What're you going to do, kiddo? Come on, spill it out… don't grow all nervous on me now…" Maxwell whispered beneath his breath, heart racing off the charts.

"I'll cut your balls off and juggle them in front of your big dumb face! Y-You got it?"

Max looked into her face with liberated glee, amazed by how radical she had become in just a moment's time. He felt obligated to ask her if she'd be interested in becoming Max's protégé, to help annihilate similar assholes like these for a living. Then he thought twice. She was too young for that sort of thing. Max suspected she had parents somewhere out there looking for her. Also, she appeared to struggle in holding back scared jitters. She was brave, but still a child at heart. Peer pressure, most likely. Max sympathized for her struggle.

"I'm sorry, girl. It was their idea, I swear. I never even meant to hurt you, was only just playing! Please, let me go! I promise, I promise I won't do anything like this to you or anyone else ever again!" Cheetah-man said, eyes pleading, staring at her arm, at his buddy's paltry weapon, neglecting to look into her green eyes for fear of those eyes being the last thing he might ever see before she decided to carve into his neck, like a butcher to the cow in a slaughterhouse.

"Look me in the eyes and apologize to me." She ordered him. When he finally broke down and obeyed, a single tear ran down his cheek, carving a trail through his black-lined fur pattern. Max snickered like an Asian schoolgirl inside, thoroughly impressed yet somewhat mortified by her extreme persistence. He also felt a strange and impeccably queer sense of responsibility for her overall safety.

"Who are you?" She asked aloud. Max presumed she was pondering for his identity, so he reacted with limited delay.

"I'm the guy who saved your hide from these delinquents. You wanna… just hand me the blade, kiddo? I mean you no harm."

"Obviously, you prick! Goddam punk, you kicked our ass instead of helping us fuck hers. For fuck's sake, all I wanted was a taste! Just one lick, that's all! Nobody ever got pregnant from a simple twat-lickin, right? Little fuckin' prude, she should've spread her legs for us so we could violate her stupid little bitch-cunt, but no! Nooo, you had to come into the scene and fuck it all up, pal! Thanks for nothin'! You stupid fucking raccoon, dog, what-fucking-ever you are, piece of goddam horse shit!" Cheetah blurted out loud, sneering at Max.

The lynx-girl, rolling her eyes, obviously bored to death of the yammering vulgar cheetah's nonsense, tightened her grip upon his scalp and pressed the blade against his dampened feline nose. Cheetah-prick winced, trying to shake his head, hand-paws extended behind his back. Max noticed he was trembling with fright. A grown-ass anthro-kitty, scared of a little lynx-girl unafraid to fight back, to stand her ground, to pay it forward for the dick-less fucks who tried to rape her. What a beautiful portrayal of karma hard at work!

"Shut your big mouth or I'll carve a new butthole into your muzzle." She said, warning him. Max noticed her hand quivering slightly yet refused to acknowledge it out loud. She was just as scared as he was, if no more so - and she had every right to be. If Max had been a moment or two late (or worse, never even noticed anything at all), she might have been brutally stabbed, fucked, killed and left to rot in a dumpster or a gutter somewhere in the cold. A horrible visual to conjure, especially seeing as how… cute she was. Cute and lethal with a knife, evidently.

"Listen!" Max insisted. He held his hand-paw out to her. "Just… give me the blade. I think… no, I'm sure they get it. Right?"

Cheetah nodded vibrantly, coinciding with Max's decision to prevent a possible eye gouging or throat slitting. "See? They get it. No more violence. They won't do shit to you. I'll make sure of it. First thing's first - give me the knife."

The wolf struggled to stand up, limping and hyperventilating, short of breath. He was still rubbing at his crotch as he scampered away across the parking lot, making a quick escape, hoping no minor harassment charges would be filed against him. The squirrel reached down to grab his tooth, pocketed it, flipped Max off and ran to catch up with the wolf, using his shirt as a makeshift gauze-pad for his fresh new gum-hole. The girl at last kicked cheetah in his gut, knocking the wind out of him in a single deep, hollow wheezing breath. When he fell to the ground in a stone-cold faint, she handed Max the knife and stood at attention. Max glanced at her, at the switchblade, at the unconscious cheetah and back at the entry door to the performing venue.

"Maybe we should call 911 for this chump?" Max asked, thumbing at the cheetah.

"Nah, he's scum. Let him freeze out here, doesn't bother me none. He was the one who flashed me first." She said, shaking her head. "Besides, he wasn't all that big anyways. I've seen bigger." Max's eyebrows raised at this statement. "For now? I'm cold… and hungry. Can you, uh… can you please help me?"

"Okay." Max said, mind blown at the sudden intensity she conveyed upon her rapists. If she was a scaredy-kitty by nature, then she did a damn fine job at hiding it. "Uh, wanna come back-stage for a bit? Just to catch a bite to eat, to freshen up, get warm… that sort of thing?"

She glanced at Max with uncertainty, swayed her hips, shrugged her shoulders, lowered her pointy lynx-ears and walked towards the door. "I gueeeess. You're sure you won't tell my parents what happened?"

"No, not unless you want me to, for safety's sake. You seemed to handle yourself well under pressure. I gotta admit - I'm impressed." Max said.

"Okay." Lynx-girl said, exhaling a relieved sigh. She cleared her throat, rubbing her chilly wet nose with her sleeve. She pointed towards the door, smirking lightly while glancing up to Max. "Lead the way, kind raccoon sir."

"Shep-coon." Max muttered aloud. She glanced at him with curious eyes. He shrugged with a smirk and scratched an itch upon his muzzle habitually. "Yeah, I'm a raccoon and German shepherd hybrid mix. Thus, a shep-coon. It's totally okay though - everyone gets me confused for one or the other. C'mon, I'll get you fed and tended to."

Max approached the door and held it open for her to enter. He caught one last glimpse of the parking lot before entering in behind her. He wondered where she had learned to defend herself. Was it street smart videos? Were her parents in law enforcement? Maybe she'd encountered horny bastards like that in the past and gradually learned how to protect herself as a result? And what on earth was that bit she mentioned earlier, about her having 'seen bigger', anyways? As small as she was, Max cringed at the idea of this random cub-girl having lost her virginity at such a tender, youthful age. He reflected on how young he also was when he'd been molested by his father… perhaps roughly her age, if no younger. Maybe there really wasn't much of a difference between them after all? He shook the bitter memory of his own past free from his mind and entered into the hallway, treading back into the venue-space, leading her towards Enim-Noinu's dressing room. He thought she'd be fine with some snacks and hot tea or something, just to set her off comfortably, in light of all the madness they'd both just endured. Max also hoped they had seen the last of those three creepy rapist jerks for a long while.

~

The crowds had dwindled down to virtually nothing by the time Max and the lynx-girl arrived at the Enim-Noinu dressing and rehearsal room, also known as "Murry Chambers". Max knocked two times, once then three times before entering. The lynx-girl gave Max a perplexed gaze.

"It's sort of an insider's trade secret - a special knock we established. To let each other know when we're entering. That way, I won't catch my drummer or guitarist with their pants down and vise-versa."

She tee-hee'd, covering her mouth with her dainty hand-paws, visibly blushing upon her cheeks.

"Oh, that's always a good idea." She said. Max found her nervous shyness and her childish giggle nothing short of profoundly adorable. He held the large oak wood door open for her to enter. When she did, Max made a brief visible observation of her. A spry, lanky, underdeveloped feminine-figured lynx girl, no older than twelve or so, give or take. She had long, cedar-brown hair that was tied in a ponytail behind her cat-like head. She wore black polyester pants with pink legwarmers adorning both legs, size 5 or 6 kid's sized skateboarding sneakers upon her feet and a long-sleeved hoodie jacket, equally black and pink, with a pink backpack adjusted by straps resting upon her shoulders. On her black hoodie was a pink paw-pad symbol. A small puffy tail jutted free from behind her hoodie, through a generously-cut access hole against the base of her spine. Her face was vibrant and pretty, cheeks and big pointy fur-tufted ears sprinkled with small brown spots and a pink heart-shaped nose. This girl was crazy for pink! When she smiled, she exposed a perfectly white row of sharp, petite teeth. Good hygiene, another highlight to her overall personality. She knew how to tend to herself. Max admired her charm, her good graces, her punk-rock-inspired demeanor. He felt that if he were many years younger, he'd probably try to ask her out on a kiddie-date to a pizza parlor or an arcade palace.
 
When she entered the dressing room space, Max let the door swing shut behind him. As it came to a stellar close, leaving behind a loud slam, Maile called out from a nearby bathroom, steam emanating from a cracked-open doorway.

"Max? Is that you? Please tell me you didn't invite any bimbos into the room! No hard powdered drugs allowed!" She called out, slightly muffled by the fluid sounds of rushing water echoing from inside the bathroom.

"Not a chance, Mai-Mai! No bimbos here!" Max replied aloud, winking reassuringly at the lynx-girl. She smiled and flexed her finger-paws together, twirling them against her belly, swaying from her heels to her toes, back and forth.

"Sit down, kiddo! Relax. Hang out, stay awhile. You certainly don't have to stand in that spot forever. In here, we all get along pretty well with each other."

"Okay." She said, curling her feline lips into a smug little grin. Max's heart melted. "So, do you prefer milk or tea?" He suspected he knew the answer already, but wanted to ascertain her decision regardless.

She trotted to a nearby sofa and plopped down into its warm leathery comforts. Her hoodie flung off her head and crumpled into a mass of cloth against her neck. "Milk, please!" She said, raising her finger-paw up into the air. Max nodded affirmatively, walked to a far corner of their rehearsal space and opened up an ice chest to remove a bottle of organic 1% low-fat milk.

"I don't think we ever even properly introduced ourselves yet, did we?" Max asked as he poured some of the milk into a red plastic cup.

"No, we didn't." She replied, shuffling her legs up and down, kicking the air. She'd found a nearby drumstick and was air-clanging with it with one hand-paw. The other one she kept raised, finger-paws forked into devil horns, imitating a heavy metal all-star. Max was delighted beyond comprehension. This lynx-girl was different from most young anthro-cubs her age, less girly and frilly, way tougher and more bad-ass than usual - that suited him just as fine as could be.

"Okay, I'll start. My name is Maxwell. You call me that, or Max, Shep-coon… even Mapache. Whatever works for you, okay?"

"Cool!" She called out to him. "My name is-"

The bathroom door burst open and Maile, wrapped in a large bathing towel with her hair bundled up into a dampened, clamped-down wad, stepped through into the main dressing room, bringing in rivulets of steam from behind her equally dampened tail. Her hooves clopped against the floor with hollowed, wooden click-clacking strikes.

"Hey, Max, shower's free for you to use now! You can go in there and wash your smelly balls in peace and comf-" Maile froze mid-sentence and glanced towards the couch. She made eye contact with the young lynx-girl. Her face brightened up into an awestruck flash of wonder and adoration. "Who is this? Max, who… who is this… this… total CUTIE?!?" Maile shuffled like a gleeful fanatic towards the girl, giggling loudly with her lips curled up into a thickened smile. Her goat hooves left dampened tracks across the carpet. The lynx-girl looked slightly embarrassed, yet embraced the open praise regardless. "Oooh, Maxwell! She's sooooo CUUUUTE!!!" Maile said, kneeling down in front of her, reaching out and grabbing the lynx-girl's petite feline hand-paws, holding them in Maile's own, rubbing her wrists with slender red panda-girl thumbs.

"She has a name… I think. You were about to tell me what it was…?" Max asked, walking over to her with a plastic cup of milk in one hand-paw and a plate of peanut butter-spread graham crackers in the other.

"Yeah… I'm, uh... Amanda. Nice to meet you, Max and Mai-Mai!" Amanda said politely, lips curled into a feline grin that could make even the most uptight cat-hater faint with adoration.

"OOOOOOOMYGOSH!!!" Maile squealed at the top of her lungs, laughing like a teenage girl discovering eroge-hentai games for the first time.

"Amanda, huh? Right on! You look like an Amanda to me. Here, milk and treats for you. Enjoy!" Max said, placing the milk cup and cracker plate down upon an end-table beside the sofa's armrest.

"Thank you, Mr. Max!" Amanda said, eyes brimming with gratitude, smiling wide with impeccable youthful beauty.

"You're welcome, kiddo." Max said, winking and clicking his tongue. He stepped over Maile's freshly-washed tail and sat down on the other side of the large leather-bound sofa, hoisting Amanda into the air for a brief moment.

"Where are your parents, hon? Did you walk here all by yourself?" Maile asked Amanda.

"Uh… I guess you could say that. I actually hitched a ride down the mountain from a friend of mine. He owed me a favor."

Max and Maile looked at each other briefly with a hint of concern in their eyes.

"Is that so? Do you often hitch rides with older guys?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Like I said, he's a friend of mine. He lives in a really cool cabin up the hill. We see each other often. He's really funny and smart and… well, a good friend. My parents don't mind either way if I hang out with him. He's a good cat." Amanda said, fidgeting her hand-paws against Maile's own, looking at the carpet, the goodies, the insulated ceiling pattern, a nearby rack of clothing, Bradley's guitar amp… anywhere but into Max and Maile's eyes.

"Okay hon, I'm gonna go get a quick snack. Do you want anything?"

Amanda shook her head timidly, lips pressed shut tight, shoulders hunched. Her pose suggested that she'd done something terrible and had been sentenced to a lengthy time-out. Maile walked over to the ice-chest, then pulled Max's wrist, tugging him along. When they reached a safe distance to speak privately, Maile snapped her finger-paw, a dawning reminder flashing in her face. "Oh! If you wanna turn the TV on, hon, feel free to do so! We don't get very many channels but you might find yourself a video game or two to keep you occupied in the meantime!"

Amanda's face brightened up on the spot, looking at Maile with intrigue. "Okay! Thank you, ma'am!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart!" Maile said with a smile. When the television clicked on, Maile leaned into Max's dreads and whispered into his ear. "She's lying. I can tell from a mile away that she's totally fibbing her story."

Max nodded, casting a quick glance towards Amanda. "Maybe so, but let's not pressure her into saying anything she might regret, okay? She's too young for that sort of thing, so we'll just ensure she feels safe and secured before we decide to turn her loose. She's shy as a dickens, but she's apt to share a little more emphasis upon her situation if we just step back a bit and let her."

Max and Maile both looked at the lynx-girl now, who was booting up a Nintendo Wii-U system, visibly excited beyond her years. "Yeah, I guess that'd be fine." Maile remarked.

"So anyways, I sorta kinda rescued her from a few creeps outside just now. That's why I brought her here, for safe keeping."

"You what?!" Maile said, voice raising slightly.

"Yeah, three older anthros were trying to have their way with her. I think their aim was to rape her, the sweet lil' thing. Not too sure, but she probably would've been much worse off had I not stepped in and intervened when I did."

"Oh, the poor dear…" Maile cast a look of genuine concern towards Amanda. "I'm just happy to see that she's well, but this sort of environment is no place for a young cub like her to be in, especially after-hours and most especially backstage! How did she get back here to begin with, anyways?"

Max shrugged, raising his shoulders up to his cheeks. "I can't say for sure! I never even noticed her until I heard her getting rustled up by those bastards, in the back hallway, leading towards the rear entry doors. Do you think she came for the show?"

"Hmm… not likely. She'd have to have a parent or a guardian of some form to gain entry. I wonder if she has a relative who works here, maybe a voluntary events coordinator or concessions vendor…"

"Well, she seems pretty independent, so I can't say she's with anyone in particular - which in turn makes her case all the more curious, by far."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, then?" Maile asked, looking into Max's one good shep-coon eye.

"Possibly." Max replied, reading Maile's expressive facial cues.

"We should ask her directly."

"You go first. I think she might not trust me to approach her with such a thing as that."

"Okay, Max. You sure?"

"Woman's intuition is a powerful thing, Mai-Mai. I'm sure." Maxwell said. He clasped his hand-paw against Maile's shoulder and she gave his neck a gentle squeeze as they both turned their heads back towards Amanda. Judging by the lynx-girl's forlorn expression, Maile suspected she knew what was coming next. Maile walked with a clopping gait towards her while Max stood back to watch, surveying the scene.

"Honey, you don't have to feel bad about telling either me or Maxwell here, but did you run away from home?" Maile asked her. Amanda just sat still, staring down into her lap, tight-lipped and silent. "If you did, that's something we'd have to tell your parents about. As much as we'd like to help you, we can't exactly harbor runaway youth in our dressing room." Maile said. Amanda remained still as a statue, fidgeting with her own hand-paws nervously. Maile knelt down beside Amanda once more and brushed her hand-paw softly against the lynx-girl's cheek, planting a small maternal kiss upon her forehead. She jerked herself back upright and walked towards Max, brushing past him to proceed to a nearby dressing-room curtain to change into more suitable attire and yield to the shep-coon, allowing him a chance to make an advance upon their recent VIP guest.

As Maile retired into privacy, Maxwell knelt down beside Amanda and rubbed her shoulder. The lynx-girl broke her focus away from her lap and made direct eye contact with Max, staring with gracious eyes that sought out an unforeseeable truth amidst total chaos.

"Amanda, you don't have to feel bad to admit anything like that to anyone. We only want to help you. So, give it to me straight. Did you… y'know, run away?"

Amanda nodded. Max smirked and nodded back in return.

"Okay, hon. Okay… did you come here to watch the show, then?"

She shook her head.

"No? Huh. Well, you said you got a ride here from a friend, right?"

Her lynx-head bobbed up and down. Maile peeked out from behind the curtain, keeping a steady eye on their verbal exchange.

"This friend of yours… is he your age?"

Amanda shook her head, frowning slightly.

"Older than you?"

She nodded.

"How much older?"

Amanda counted the numbers in her head, briefly using her dainty pink-padded finger-paws as a calculator, then held nine feline digits up to Max's face.

"I know it's rude to ask and I'm sorry ahead of time, but how old are you, hon?" Max asked Amanda. She took a nearby guitar pick and dragged it through one of the crackers, etching numbers into a layer of spread peanut butter. First a one, then a two. Twelve years old. Just as Maxwell had imagined.

"Twelve. That's a good age." Max said with a gracious smile, hoping to brighten Amanda's mood a bit. Amanda reached out and grabbed the shep-coon's arm, squeezing her grip tightly. Max gave a startled response at her suddenness.

"Max?" Amanda blurted out with a voice slightly muted, barely audible.

"Yeah?" Max replied, leaning in close to hear what she wanted to say.

"Do you guys have ice cream?" She asked earnestly.

Max smiled a big, goofy clown smile. "Of course!"

Amanda's face lit up with swift pleasure.

Maile exhaled a sigh of relief.

~

"Oh, I'm winning! I'm winning! You'll never defeat meeeee!" Amanda hollered, tapping away the buttons on her controller as she dominated Max and Maile at a video game, laughing hysterically. The room had a nicely-sized thirty-two-inch HDTV situated with all the hook-ups provided. Maxwell brought his cousin's Nintendo Wii-U and attached it to the device for the anthros to fiddle with during their down-time, since they'd rented out the space a few days in advance, mostly for rehearsing purposes. Now that their show was over, they had time to spare, to unwind and to get their lily-asses kicked hard by Amanda's gaming know-how.

"This little punk! Can you believe it? Here, I thought I was the champion of this game! Dag-nammit!" Max said, mashing away the buttons on his controller relentlessly, touching his nose with the tip of his tongue in furious concentration.

"Yeah, man! It seems as if you're about to be dethroned by our newcomer! Who knew she was so freaking good at Splatoon, anyways?" Maile said, giggling aloud. She'd changed into a more suitable outfit - a heavy-metal-inspired emo-goth chick's leather bra-top and striped skirt, with skull-covered cotton panties beneath. Her goat hooves bounced and tapped against the carpet as Maile timed her moves carefully, ringed red panda tail jerking and swaying excitedly behind her back.

"Not a chance in heeeeell, missy!" Max said. He nudged and swayed along with the controller, feeling in touch with his character in-game. Maile and Amanda laughed at his involvement, wondering how he'd feel playing a fully 360-degree-immersive virtual-reality video game.

When Max's inkling boy exploded into a myriad of paint and green ink, he groaned, raising his arms into the air, flexing his biceps in utter defeat. Maile and Amanda cheered aloud, whooping and gallivanting. Amanda raised her hand-paw up into the air and gave Maile a high-five. Maile hugged Amanda close to her cheek, squishing their faces together. "You did sooo good!!!" Maile said, sprinkling Amanda's forehead and fluffy ears with small butterfly kisses. The lynx giggled wildly, audibly purring aloud. Max nodded in a sore loser's sneer, crossing his arms, silently pouting.

"Yeah, laugh it up, ladies. Next time, you won't be so lucky!" The shep-coon said in a playfully brash tone of voice, hooking a finger-paw towards Amanda. The lynx grabbed Max's finger-paw and nibbled the tip of it comically.

"Awww, says the sore loser, mister cyclops-dog!" Amanda said, bursting into laughter immediately after. Maile's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She looked at Max, witnessed his forlorn expression and guffawed with her own unabashed laughter. Amanda snorted from laughing so hard and a tiny stream of milk flowed free from her nostril, forcing an even heavier comical response from Maile, even causing Max to blow a small raspberry from beneath his shep-coon lips.

A loud 2-1-3 knock pattern thrummed against the main door.

"Come on in!" Max hollered briskly. As the door swung open, in stumbled Brad, drunk beyond all comprehension. He was laughing quite heavily. As he stepped into the room, Brad lost his footing and slumped down to the carpet, landing on a nearby beanbag chair. He rolled onto the ground, laughing the entire way down. Amanda wiped her nose with a nearby tissue and watched the grown anthro-dog try to hoist himself back up off the ground, failing miserably with repeated attempts, enduring a massive struggle. She couldn't help but stare with immersed avidity. A grown-ass anthro-guy, rolling around on the ground like a big overgrown babyfur. Amanda knew what happened when too much alcohol was consumed (not from personal experience, but from witnessing others getting hammered at rock concerts), so she wasn't entirely affected… but it was still a hilarious sight to see, nevertheless.

"Welcome home, you lovely doggy-face!" Maxwell called out loud. He stood up and skipped daintily towards Brad, kneeling down to tickle at his ribs and belly. Brad screeched and wailed, squirming like a hyperactive worm placed in a microwave.

"GaAAAaaAH!!! No tickles! No tickles!!! STAAAAHHP!!" Brad screeched, voice higher in pitch than a pygmy girl giving skydiving a try. Maile laughed, shaking her head. She looked at Amanda and lavished over her dumbfounded expression.

"It's okay, honey - that guy was just ready to party a little harder than we were, that's all."

"Yeah, I guess… I think he needs a cup of cold water and a slap to the face!" Amanda said in a factual tone. Maile chuckled aloud and nodded her head in agreement.

"Dude, you gonna be alright?" Max asked Brad. No response came though, for Brad had fallen fast asleep against the floor beside Max's thighs. Maile and Amanda shared laughter when they heard him blurt out an audible snore. Max patted Brad's head companionably and reached over to grab a nearby pillow, slipping it effortlessly under the guitarist's cranium.

"Sleep tight, amigo." Max whispered, planting a brotherly kiss upon Bradley's muzzle. Maile and Amanda exchanged a glimpse and a grin between each other.

~

Maile used the bathroom while Max and Amanda turned to discussion: what types of rock music they enjoyed the most, their favorite flavors of ice cream, the best RPG card games and how healthy foods tasted like mildew-tainted athlete's foot fungus. Max played a few small standalone riffs on his bass guitar and Amanda danced to the rhythms, thoroughly impressing the shep-coon. She was a damn good dancer for a young cub-girl her age. She must've enjoyed practicing her moves in her spare time, apparently. When Brad awakened from his brief sobriety nap and spoke up, Max had finished a particularly funky riff and Maile had already exited the bathroom.

"What's up, Bradley-poo?" Max asked the fennec-hybrid, now significantly more sober than he'd been upon entering into the room earlier. Amanda watched Brad with curious eyes.

"Almost forgot to give you guys our earned pay for the performance. Turns out they do pay for musical acts, even when there's charity involved. So here." Brad handed Maile a bill-fold of mixed tens and twenties, totaling out to $150. Max got an equal amount, which he stuffed into his rear jean pocket. While Max flipped through the bills in his hand-paws, ensuring the right amount was accounted for, he noticed Amanda's eyes focused upon the green papers from his peripheral vision, glued to them like a starving child staring at a taco-wagon.

"Work for a living, then you'll be able to earn your own money, kiddo." Max said, startling Amanda. Maile cocked her brow at Max, then pocketed her earned performance profits into her bra-top for safe keeping.

"Right. I know. It doesn't grow on trees." Amanda said, chipper and attentive. Max grinned and nodded. "It's just… you guys make a lot, just from playing some music! I guess people really like hearing you perform, huh?"

Maile shrugged. "Yeah, we usually receive mixed crowds. Some attend our shows to hear our songs, some attend to deal drugs, some to flirt and swoon over others - including us…" Max emphasized this fact by laughing as falsely as he possibly could. "And yet, others actually follow us regularly because they feel a certain attachment to us. Not for the music we play, not so much, but for the style in which we play our stuff. You know what I mean, Amanda?"

Amanda thought about it, forehead furrowing into a pocket of ridges, eyebrows curled low against her eye sockets, tapping a finger-paw against her cheek, then nodded. "Yeah, I suppose I do… I think."

"That's what we live for. That's what we strive for." Maile walked forward and knelt back down to Amanda. The panda-hybrid brushed a single loose strand of bangs free from the lynx's face, leaned in and planted a companionable kiss upon her cheek. "I'm very happy to have met you, Amanda. You are a beautiful young girl and will grow to become a gorgeous young feline woman. Never ever let anyone convince you otherwise. Can you remember that, hon? For me?"

Amanda nodded, eyes becoming watery, slightly dampened. She really grew to admire Maile in so short a period of time.

"Good girl. Chin up. You'll be fine in this life - I guarantee it." Maile smiled, then stood up and walked back towards Bradley, standing him up, raising one of his arms over her shoulders. "I've gotta get our guitarist here into bed. I'd say he's pretty exhausted."

"You can say that again, schweetheart!" Bradley murmured in a slurry growl, forcing a chuckle out of Maxwell.

"Max, could you… y'know, take her where she needs to be?" Maile asked Max. The shep-coon nodded and looked down to Amanda.

"You ready to hit the road, kiddo?" Max asked her. Amanda nodded reluctantly, stood up, brushed crumbs off her lap and took a final swig from her cup of milk. Before Max guided her out from the dressing room, Amanda ran back over to Maile and hugged her waist tightly. Maile gasped and swooned, looking up at Max. They exchanged a look of pure graciousness. How humbled Maile felt right then and there! She hugged Amanda right back as hard in return, feeling the young lynx-girl purring beneath all her thick clothing.

Maxwell held the door open for Amanda. Just as she stepped outside into the long, fluorescent hallway, she stopped and waved at Maile, smirking slightly. The sight was nothing short of a Kodak moment if there has ever been one.

~

Maxwell led Amanda out into the Enim-Noinu Econovan touring vehicle, the graceful old bird that delivered Max and Co. from one venue to the next in style for many years standing now.

"Okay, just guide me in the direction of where you want me to take you and I'll get you back before it becomes too late. Okay?" Max said.

Amanda nodded in agreement, buckling her seat-belt up and adjusting her hoodie against her shoulders. "Got it!"

Max fished for the van's key in his pocket, inserted it into the ignition, turned the starter, fired off the engine and pumped the gas pedal a couple times to rev it into submission, also to get a head-start on the heater. He pulled a small gearshift lever attached to the wheel over to 1st gear and proceeded forward, pulling out of the seemingly empty parking lot.

"Okay, go straight a few blocks up this road and make a right. I'll tell you when exactly." Amanda instructed Max.

"Got it, kiddo." Max replied, looking both ways to ensure no cars were approaching from either side of his peripheral vision. When one had only a single eye to drive with, one proceeded in paying twice as much attention to one's general surroundings. A traffic signal light switched from green to yellow, forcing Maxwell to slow down and engage the clutch back to Park. As the light flickered red, Amanda purred aloud, giggling softly. Max glanced over at her. She was staring directly at the shep-coon, hardly even blinking, eyes boring into his soul.

"So you never asked me why I ran away from home, Maxwell."

"No, I suppose I didn't huh?"

"Go on." Amanda insisted. "Ask me."

"Okay. Amanda, why'd you run away from home?"

"Because I was in dire need of sex."

Maxwell's train of thought screeched to a halt. He was lucky the van wasn't in motion, otherwise he'd have to plunge it into one of the road's gravel-strewn emergency-only shoulder paths.

"Excuse me?" Max said to Amanda with avid disbelief, staring at her with unease.

"Yeah. I know that wasn't very wise of me, since I could always just find a carrot or a cucumber or something like that to play with, but…" Amanda shrugged. "I dunno, just felt like letting an older guy screw me this time around."

Maxwell slowly put the van into 1st and pulled into a nearby park-N-ride. Upon entering, he found a reasonably private spot and parked, shutting the engine off, sitting perfectly still, staring at Amanda, unsure of what to say in response to her primary reasoning. He was flabbergasted over her blunt honesty.

"You know how hard it is for a girl like me to develop these… sensations from such a young age? I really craved a guy's mass in my slit-spot and I knew I could always go to a rock show and tease a few morons to acquire what I craved. However, those assholes you helped chase away earlier had other ideas in mind for me. If I'd only known their true intentions, I never would've flashed my panties at them or played hard-to-get."

"So… they didn't actually jump you first, you forced them to approach you?"

"If dancing naughty and licking at my finger-paws while eyeing them down is considered forcing, then… yeah, I guess I forced them to come at me."

Max shook his head, rubbing his brow with his thumb and index finger-paw, as if consoling a bad headache. Amanda felt a dire pit of grief in her chest, knowing she'd be judged and disciplined, treated like a dumb little baby cub, told to never approach Max or his band members or any of their concerts ever again.

Instead, Max just snickered, unbuckled his safety belt, and leaned in to kiss Amanda on her velvety-smooth lips. Amanda reeled back in shock and surprise at his sudden advances. Max reached down to caress her thigh in his hand-pawed grip, rubbing at her leg sensually. His thumb came dangerously close to her sensitive region and she whimpered.

"Amanda, Amanda… if only you could've kept your cool for a moment longer, I'm sure I would've shown you far more… enticing pleasures… than those dumb asses could have ever dreamed of." Maxwell said, low and coy, almost in a snarl. He brushed his hand-paw up her leg, across her crotch and dragged it beneath her shirt, rubbing up her belly, touching her underdeveloped breast, pinching at her small nipple, twirling and flicking at it teasingly. She moaned and breathed deep, gasping and shivering with each nuanced touch. Max's other hand-paw caressed the back of her head as he opened his maw wide and shoved his tongue deep into her mouth, brushing against her small bristly cat-tongue, her sharp teeth, the serrated fleshy roof of her muzzle. He lavished in her taste, her scent, her gorgeous beauty. Maxwell wanted her in ways he couldn't even begin to comprehend. Amanda's crotch began to feel itchy, tingly, dampened and right... oh so right.

"Amanda… have you ever been… fucked… by another guy… before?" Maxwell asked her slowly, cupping her nape in his grip, brushing his thumb-paw against her jaw-line, tickling her nose with his long shep-coon whiskers. The lynx-girl nodded, visibly embarrassed and nervous as hell. This turned Max on harder than he cared to admit. He could literally feel himself leaking pre-cum as he gazed deep into Amanda's trembling, aroused eyes.

"How about a guy… like me?" Max said. He reached down to unhinge her pants, to pull them down and slip them off her ankles, to expose her sweet little underage lynx-girl vagina, to finger and tease her, to drive her into a euphoric rush of unhinged bliss. Amanda fluttered her eyelids open and shut, gazing lovingly at Max's face, then shook her head. "Oh, then you'll love what I have in store for you, then." His words emanated pure sex and his voice glided into her ears like rich honey, sweet molasses, a scrumptious treat to feast upon for hours on end.

Max reached down past her hips and he pulled a lever, causing Amanda's passenger seat to fling backwards, She rolled free from her laid-back position and tumbled down upon a bundle of soft blankets and pillows in the back of the van. A strange, musky smell lingered in the rear of the vehicle, like a sickly-sweet earthen skunk-stench. Something very similar to what concert-goers often sparked and blazed when the music got really good. Maxwell had also unbuckled her seat beat with mysterious grace, working as steadily as a natural-born Houdini. When Amanda gained her bearings, Max was already looming over her body, smiling with wicked deviancy. His eye-patch had been removed and his socket was fitted with an ocular prosthesis that showed a small eight-ball with a crack running through the middle of its spherical surface. Max, stripped free of his jeans, panted with hungry sexual prowess as his large knotted shep-coon penis dangled freely, erect and stiff as a rod, throbbing, rosy-red and sweltering with the potent scent of masculinity and canine musk. The mix of different scents forced Amanda to breathe deep and fast. She was beyond nervous now, scared at how big he was and what he intended to do to her. She was only so little, could only handle so much dick inserted into her body, and yet as thickly aroused as she had been since the day before…

"Spread your legs for me, little bitch… I'm gonna fuck your brains out and make you scream my name out loud as you cum for me." Max growled, holding onto one of her small dainty shins, keeping her forcibly spread. Amanda nodded and placed her other leg against Max's waist-side, fully spread now, exposed and nervous, so very nervous. Her breathing increased more and more as the blankets beneath her butt rustled and crumpled. Amanda could hear traffic passing by just outside the van's wide-opening rear doors, could hear voices and commotion and the entire world in motion. She heard these things for a brief moment, then her hearing vanished into a dull buzzing drone. Now all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Maxwell heaving breaths in and out against her ear and cheek as he thrust himself forward into her, forcing a sweltering pain to sear through her entire body. Amanda yelped and yowled, extending her lynx-claws, dragging them against Max's chest and arms, cutting him deep, drawing blood. He just laughed and kept on humping her, pushing deep and hard, licking at his blackened canine lips, stretching her swollen, sensitive vagina out wide, fully absorbed in the moist, enduring sensations of her sweet lynx-girl twat. He lowered his head down and licked at her tiny breasts and nibbled upon her nipples for a brief moment, which caused Amanda's legs to jerk and her knees to buckle outward, toe-paws curling inward, body shifting and churning relentlessly, feeling Max's shep-coon tongue dragging up her neck and across her jawline, giving her a passionate wet-willy. Amanda grit her teeth, clenching down upon his fond embrace, tightening her groin muscles immeasurably, forcing Maxwell to thrust harder into her, rocking the van upon loosened suspension shocks.

"Ah! Yes! Gonna fuck you 'til you bleed, little whore! I bet all the guys you've fucked in the past never loved you at all, huh? I bet all those sexual occurrences were just ways to gain admiration with older gentlefurs, huh? A way to fuel your own self-esteem, huh? You are nothing more than a stupid little weakling, a dumb little emo-rocking baby pussy bitch, huh? Huh?! Answer me when I'm talking to you!" Max snarled, gripping her neck, choking her briefly while he licked her muzzle, breathing hot and heavy against her ear. Amanda felt equally scared and aroused at his demeaning advances, knowing that he was somewhat right in his presumptions of her.

"Aaaaaah, please don't do me so hard! Please! Please! PLEASE!!! Not so hard, you… you moron!" Amanda screamed out loud. Max laughed and gnawed at her neck playfully, refusing to honor her wish, only humping faster and harder into her. Amanda's legs wrapped tightly around Max's waist, thighs pinning against his hips. When Max began to breathe harder, ready to blow his load, Amanda jutted her tongue out and moaned feverishly, hearing Max's cock slap in and out of her ripe, underage lynx-girl pussy, feeling his testicles smacking equally hard against her puckered tailhole, ready to blow a fuse and endure a superior shared orgasm. Amanda was in heat and demanded a rock-hard, hot, sultry fuck for some time now. Little did she know that she had access to one in the form of her shep-coon hero, the one-eyed rock-star hybrid who helped her recuperate and feel good about herself again after having rescued her from perverted rapists, who decided to show his true colors at the mere mention of her interest in fucking older anthro guys in the back of a touring van parked in a public park-N-ride. Amanda loved the feeling of Max's big thick shep-coon dick slamming hard and heavy into her repetitively, filling her wide, feeling Max's heartbeat inside her body, hearing his whispers of encouraging naughtiness echo into her ear, knowing and feeling how close he was, ready to bust a nut or two and drain a month's supply of pent-up spunk into her belly, to choke or slap her while he came hard and balls-deep into her, to bite her neck or lick her flat chest while she screamed and uttered his name repeatedly, shivering in an orgasmic state of lust, pure bliss, raw, real, raunchy, ready to fuck hard and fast, to squirt her sweet seminal fluids upon his chest and sit on his handsome face, drowning his fuzzy chin and grey muzzle in her lynx-girl nectar and licking his big knotted shep-coon dick clean of her candy-flavored lynx-syrup, becoming his favorite groupie cub-whore to fuck for hours on end over and over again, to stroke his dick and swallow his jizz and satiate his hunger and lavish in his desires and-

~

"Max? Max? Wake up!" Amanda yelled, snapping her finger-paws in front of Maxwell's face. He'd nodded off at a stoplight, long-since turned green. Vehicles honked in an extended line behind the van. He shook the hideously taboo fantasy out of his mind, looked at Amanda with a riveting gaze, then cleared his throat and put the clutch into first, accelerating forward. The cars behind him quit honking their horn at long last, going along on their own separate ways.

"Sorry. Got lost in thought for a moment there." Max said, trying to come to terms with what he'd been fantasizing about. He gave Amanda a weird little glance, feeling stupid and guilty. Amanda said nothing, only kept her eyes open and fixated upon the road, the cars, the night sky brimming with stars spanning among the hundreds of thousands.

I'm not a pederast… I'm not a pederast, I'm not a pederast - I'm not a goddam pederast! I helped her out, I showed her a good time, no need to spoil it all by becoming a demon myself! Keep your fantasies in your own mind, shep-coon! Don't screw her! Whatever you do, anything but that! Dude, don't even touch her funny! Just take her where she needs to go and that's that. No problem! No harm, no foul! You fought off assholes trying to rape her, don't assume that role before the night's end! Just play it cool, play it safe, play it-

"Hey, pull over right there. That's my road, Max." Amanda blurted out, breaking Max's mental mantra. Max cleared his throat, grunted aloud and pulled the Econovan over into a low ditch, muddy and tarnished. The road she pointed out led into a tangle of trees and endless wheat fields. Max wondered if she didn't happen to live in a cabin or a farm house or maybe just a trailer or something.

"Okay, there you go, kiddo. Your stop! You sure you don't want me to drive you in?" Max insisted.

"Yeah, this is fine. Thank you!" Amanda said with a grateful smile.

He held a fist up and lowered it a couple times, imitating himself pulling a train horn. Amanda opened the door, unbuckled her safety belt, hopped out and stopped mid-way. She turned around and regarded Maxwell with wide open eyes. Max cut his charade short. "Woah, everything okay, Amanda? Did you forget something back in the room? You did, didn't you?" Max asked with a goofy voice, strangely reminiscent of old-time boxing announcers.

"No. I just… wanted to say something, before I have to leave, before I go back up the hill, before we part ways."

"Okay then." Max said, relaxing casually, opening up to hear Amanda's parting statement."What's up, buttercup?"

"Back there, when you attacked those jerks who tried to… y'know, have at me…"

"Yeeeah?" Max let his word draw out slightly. Amanda stared into empty space, conjuring the words necessary to make her statement last. Her eyes widened and she regarded Maxwell with a solemn gaze.

"Well, I really didn't expect to lash out and attack them the way I did. I think seeing you arrive gave me the courage to do that. If it weren't for you… well, let's just say I was terrified of those guys before you showed up. Absolutely terrified." Amanda confessed, shivering at the thought. Max noticed slight hints of moisture forming upon the corners of her gorgeous almond-crescent lynx-girl eyelids.

"Well, that's fine. Nothing to feel ashamed about. I can't tell you how many times I've fought against very similar assholes just like those chumps we ran into and felt beyond scared. Not just for my life, but for the lives of others as well. You handled yourself considerably fine tonight, young miss. If nobody else comes out to say it, allow me to be the one to tell you that… I'm proud of how well you conducted yourself, Amanda. Very proud indeed."

Amanda nodded her head, blushing thickly behind her fur-tufted cheeks, remained paused for a very brief moment, then hoisted herself across the seat and planted a nice wet kiss upon Maxwell's muzzle. Her lips were soft and smooth, pleasing to the touch. Max's heart jump-started in his chest and he suddenly felt strangely aroused. She slid back out of the van, closed the door and knocked on the passenger side's window. Max rolled it down by reaching over to spin a small lever counter-clockwise.

"That was for helping me earlier with those dirt-bags, Maxwell. I… never really got a chance to thank you for that. So." Amanda waved and winked. "Thank you!"

"Hey, any time, Amanda. If you ever need anything, anything at all…" Max grabbed a post-it note stack and a pen from a middle glove-compartment between the two front seats. He scribbled down his name and cell phone number, then pulled the adhesive sheet free and handed it to her. "Just give me a call or text or whatever. I'll be sure to come to your aid, no matter what."

Amanda glanced at the number, then snickered with her nose scrunched up. Max cocked his brow in curiosity. "What's wrong?"

"How in the heck do you pronounce your last name??" Amanda asked as seriously as she could muster. Maxwell laughed aloud, slapping his forehead. She tittered in return, still looking desperately confused. "I'm sorry, but… what the heck, man?!"

"Yeah, that's a toughie, isn't it?" Maxwell said. Amanda nodded, shrugging her shoulders. "Tell you what. Just call me Mr. B." Amanda smiled, nodding happily. "Or better yet, how about plain ol' Max. Sound good?" She jumped up in the air and winked while giving the 'A-OK!' hand-paw gesture.

"Yeah! That works for me! My last name is much easier to remember anyways - its 'Scratch'."

"Amanda Scratch. Light of my life, apple of my eye." Maxwell recited, like fine poetry. Amanda appeared to be blushing heavily beneath her tufts of cheek-fur.

"Okay, Max! Thanks again for the lift! And the yummy milk and crackers! And…" Amanda's ears lowered down to her head and her eyes sweltered wide, trembling with early hints of flowing tears, shed to convey grateful joy. "Well, everything. Thank you. I… uh, I…" Maxwell waited for her to drop the bomb-shell, all in due time but before she could, he removed the wad of cash he'd made from his jeans pocket and handed her one hundred dollars' worth. Amanda Scratch's jaw became unhinged, drooping down to her neck. Her pretty green eyes grew as wide as teacup platters.

"Don't even try to argue with me. You are one cool kid and I'd feel bad if you had to call a cab to get home or something. Consider that my compensation for your safety. Take it easy, Amanda Scratch. Remember: call me if you need anything at all."

"I… I… I love you!" Amanda screeched aloud. Chilled vapor flowed from her mouth in hazy torrents. She waved again and turned around to run as fast as she could, back up her street (or maybe up the street of her 'good friend', who knew for sure?), running right out of Maxwell's sight and life. Max felt liberated, redeemed, much better than ever before.

"Huh. What a total cutie she was. I hope she finds her way in life, instead of spending it all on condoms or catnip or something." Max said, snickering at the idea.

As he sat for a moment to gather his thoughts, Max shifted the van back into 1st gear but before he had a chance to leave, his phone buzzed and the text message indicator chimed. He engaged the clutch and jerked the van back into Park, fishing his cell phone out from his pocket. A small blue light flickered from the top-right corner of his screen, indicating to Max that a new message had arrived.

"Oh, probably Maile checking in on me to see how things are going. Let's see…"

Max activated his phone, unlocked it to display his home page (with a background image of Layne Staley and Jerry Cantrell playing an acoustic Alice in Chains show) and opened up the new text message. It wasn't sent by Maile, but rather from a woman named Penelope Peahen. It was a reminder to Maxwell that in a week's time, he was due to arrive at her ranch for sustained assisted work labor.

"Oh yeah! Peacock-woman! That's right! Man, I'm glad she reminded me about this, I'd nearly forgotten! Shoot, maybe I'll luck out and wind up working alongside a pretty farmhand maiden, or even a farmer's daughter. That'd set me right as rain. We'll see, won't we? Yes we will, mister shep-coon. We'll see, alright."

END
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