1/14/2021
7:48pm
	Maile Martinez stepped off her longboard and glanced upon Sassafrass McSapphire, dingiest nightclub in all of Oregon - and one of Maxwell's favorite hangouts, may the Creators help him.
	Low bass-heavy vibrations emanated from the squat rectangular building accompanied with harsh noise from crashing treble highs, flowing through an expansive dogwood grove, shedding many branches of their silky pink and white petals, as if caught in a sonic boom. Ferns and wild sagebrush received a showering of fresh flowery sprinklings to compliment splotches of gossamer dew, settled gently upon rich fuzzy leaflets, relics of fresh condensation gathered from the coast's natural oceanic mist. One could lick a leaf and taste a slight hint of saltwater.
	But Maile wasn't in the habit of licking leaves.
	The red panda-goat-demon hybrid hushed up, held her breath, stood upright and perfectly still, shoulders erect and ram-horns front and center. Then she blew a huge raspberry and cheered, hopping and whooping aloud, a figure of pure jovial excitement. Her white-ringed tail swayed and wagged, trailing a tiny plume of fire from its fuzzy tip and her hooves clattered and clopped hard against paved blacktop. She was excited - finally, she'd achieved a smooth longboard landing!
	Such a rarity.
	More often than not, Maile found herself rolling into a nearby grassy ditch to evade any gravel pits or corner guardrails. Ah, guardrails - something she'd come into contact with personally, despite the lack of any witnesses and a major crippling blow to her own personal pride. At least her determination got tested in handling tight corners and how to apply the efficient halt-stopping method. She swore to learn hard or die from sustained injuries while trying, which didn't ever seem likely to happen, considering her demonic genes.
	She calmed down, exhaled a relieved sigh and creaked her neck, feeling and hearing her tendons pop and crack, offering robust bursts of sweet relief in tension-heavy areas. Maile's green eyes stared out toward the building itself. Squat little shithole of a glorified modular home, smack-dab in the very center of God's country. Why Max savored such a lame-ass place, the red panda-girl would never hope to comprehend. Maybe it was a tweeker-bassist thing.
~
7:50pm
	Maile's slightly-hooved hand-paw slid into a jean pocket and yanked out a mobile flip-phone. She opened it up and glanced down to check the time. Ten to eight.
	Right on schedule.
	Pocketing the phone, Maile cleared her throat and glanced at her surroundings, trying to see where he went. Maile placed her fur-tinged fingerpaws at each corner of her lips and whistled, blowing hard, capturing a wide range. Luckily, it was just enough for Samson, her pet German Shepherd dog, to react and come trotting with haste to her side. Only this time around, he didn't. Maile half-expected to see Samson run up to her robust panda-girl leg and kneel, yapping and wagging his bushy fur-speckled tail with vast loyalty, quick at the heel of his goat-demon-panda mama. She'd ridden down a narrow private road dense with local foliage to arrive at good ol' Sassy McSapph's with Sammy running along at her side, leash-free, wearing a certified service dog harness around his shoulders. Sammy trotted alongside Maile, patting down his thick, fuzzy canine paw pads against the vast stretch of cool dampened blacktop road. Somehow he'd gotten way ahead of her, cutting through the forest range, acknowledging a detour. A part of Maile wasn't too surprised to see where he'd gone between then and now.
	She approached the building, hooves clopping through teeming meadows rich with vibrant wildflowers, swirling dust motes and pollen with each step taken, and Maile Martinez glanced upon her German shepherd dog, chewing at a honeycomb while lying flat on his belly, sprawled out before a large wooden bench, paws limp at his sides. His head bobbed up and down with each gnawing gluttonous bite taken of the honeycomb, rich and sweet and gummy in his maw, lapping at the waxen delicacy. He felt more bear than dog, savoring the chunk of natural rich sweetness. From behind Sammy's ear, a honeybee squirmed free and buzzed off, hovering and somnolent, passive of its own habitual demise. Maile wondered if he got stung in the midst of retrieving his newfound chewtoy, the large shaggy goof.
	"Did you literally jump through those trees and pull down a beehive while running to get here, you retard?" Maile asked her fat, dumb dog. The shep barked once, a muffled croupy brash roar in a burst of a second's time, lazy and nonchalant. Maile giggled and reached down to rub at her shep's ears, making him purr and moan like an overgrown deformed kitten, begging for more loving caresses and ear rubs. This was one of Sammy's weaknesses. He rolled to his side, honeycomb still juggling between his teeth, beckoning to Maile. She snickered beneath her breath and felt an elated joy blossoming within her chest. She loved her pooch so damn much, there was very little she'd be apt not to do for him.
	"You are something else, Sambo." Maile said. She looked around and fixated her eyes upon an unoccupied corner. She walked towards the space, toting her longboard in front of her waist, listening closely for any unwelcome strangers asking her what business she had hanging around. Despite her local celebrity status, being the fire-scorched drummer of that one wild grunge rock band, there were still a number of residents and citizens in the greater Grants Pass area who saw fit to exclude her from most social community-driven gathering spots, including Sassafras McSapphire's. 
	"Okay, this'll be fine right here, I think." Maile said to nobody in particular. She lay her longboard flat against the outside wall of the corny nightclub establishment, leaned upright with small clear wheels nestled against a nearby bundle of freshly chopped oak and cedarwood. She wondered if the firewood wasn't used in the kitchen for cooking, or in a woodstove for heating purposes. Then she realized that she could care freaking less, she was on a mission to track down and initiate a fellow anthropomorphic lady of the night, one of great prominence and dashing good looks - judging by what Maile had seen so far. She'd found some online listings for a furry dating ring within Sassy McSapph's, led on by a canine party-girl named Sable. She had photos listed under her profile, which Maile saved to her cell phone's hard drive for the sole purposes of masturbating herself into a trembling fury of satisfaction later on, after she'd dealt with her primary business. Always the business before the pleasure.
	"You ready to find out if this Sable girl has what it takes to take you on, bud?" Maile asked her pet, who now stood upright, wagging his tail and licking his chops free of excess honeycomb flakes. Sammy barked and his stoic brown eyes grew wide in response to Maile's pondering query. He felt supercharged enough to knot twenty Sables in a row, if only he could tell his master directly. "I hope she does," Maile remarked, tapping a finger-paw against her chin while maintaining a deep-thinking pose. "Wouldn't that be something? Then maybe I wouldn't be the only girl who desires your knot, huh boy?"
	Sammy yapped and pressed his nose against Maile's groin. The demonic entity in disguise as a voluptuous panda-goat hybrid giggled and calmed him down, brushing him aside from his typical vice, ushering herself and her pet into the front door of the building nestled amongst the Gods of nature herself, so resilient and patient. 
~
8:16pm
	"ID, ma'am."
	"I beg your indulgence?!"
	The bear bouncer rolled his lucid eyes and blew a raspberry with his lower lip. "Darlin', I need to see some identification before I can allow you to enter this estab-"
	"Sweet crimony, do I look like bitch-assed cub, a mofuggin' child?!" The cheetah woman in front of Maile asked the large brown-furred beast, face beady and spastic with aggressive jerky motions. A tiny clump of foamy spittle collected at one corner of her cheetah-blackened lips.
	The bear curled a brow up and gave the cheetah woman, seemingly younger than intended, a suspicious glare. "That depends on what you mean by 'child', exactly..."
	Maile slid her hand-paw into a rear pocket and yanked free a carefully-manufactured counterfeit Canadian identification permit she's managed to score from a fellow biker and number-runner, since identification didn't come particularly easy for an exiled relic of Hell's ninth inner ring. She held it up to bear-boy's face and smiled with charming excess. Bear-boy nodded, curling his brow at Sammy, then waved his hand-paw towards the camaraderie, urging Maile and Sammy to enter. He glanced upon a food-stamp card issued in New Hampshire, expired four years prior, held between cheetah-woman's finger-paws, practically poking his snout.
	"Here ya go! This good enough for ya?!" She asked bear-boy with a screechy, high-pitched tone of voice. Instead of arguing with her any further, something that proved utterly pointless already, Bear-boy finally gave up and gave in, knowing this was merely an uphill battle, a relentlessly endless argument with less than stellar resolutions.
	"'Bout time, damn! I thought y'all was jus' a desperate-ass cub or sumthin', know what I m-"
	Cheetah-girl pressed her body up against the bear-guy, smothering her supple breasts against his belly hard, wrapping a single leg around one of his own, hugging against his chest, latching on like a headcrab attached to an enemy Combine soldier's helmet.
	"Does this feel like a fucking cub's body to you, dude?!!?" Cheetah-girl screeched, laughing hysterically, hair swinging madly about.
	Bear-boy shivered and shrieked aloud, nervous and obviously thrown off by being mercilessly hugged so suddenly. He glanced around to find that they were both being watched studiously by surrounding nightclubbers. Maile smacked her forehead and chuckled low to herself, wondering what exactly Maxwell saw in this freaking place. Fraught with embarrassment, bear-boy shrieked and Maile laughed along with a few other furs while cheetah-girl kept on grinding against his body, squishing her boobs hard into his belly, letting her tangled blonde hair fall across his neck, burying her fuzzy feline face in his chest fur, causing a tremendous scene before his trusted bouncer brothers and giving him an unsightly erect-
	"OKAY!! I say goddam, you good to go in, sister! C'mon, jus' stop fuckin' wit' me like this!"
	Cheetah-girl sneered up at his face and Maile's eyes flashed with a bright green spark, numbing his senses, causing him to step aside in a zombie-like trance, unaware of a thing around him. The feline walked in, curving a wide berth around him, heading towards the main concourse. Thank goodness for small favors, thought Maile. She watched as cheetah-girl held her hand-paw up and smacked a high-five with a white-furred husky female, slightly more mature than the others. Maile's eyes diminished of their glow and she stepped aside, Sammy trailing her fur-tinged heels, relieving bear-boy of his telepathic connection. Upon seeing the greeting gesture unfold before her eyes, Maile immediately recognized Sable, the anthro doll who received cheetah-girl's high-five.
	"Holy fuck. She's more gorgeous than I originally imagined! Oooh, this'll be so freaking rad..." Maile whispered to herself, staring her down, feeling notions of illicit desire course through her body and senses while Sammy stood panting beside his master with anxious delight, apt to fuck anything that looked even remotely attractive to his German shepherd-in-a-rut's wandering eyes.
~
8:27pm
	Sable went directly to the DJ's booth, followed by Maile and Sammy, close in proximity. She was chaperoned away from the front of the booth by a security guard, a large rat named Doris Selzheimer. Doris was a butch-dyke with a stuttering speech impediment who possessed a heart of gold, the passive nature of a puppy and a raging, fuming edge when taunted hard enough by unruly bar patrons who disagreed with her methodical approaches. 
	"Afraid you'll have t-t-t-o keep a wide b-b-b-berth from the s-s-stage, ma'am. Deejay's orders. I know how s-s-silly that may sound, b-b-b-but she is v-v-very insistent. Something to do w-w-with enhanced hearing loss for c-c-c-c-c..." Doris took a breath, pinched her eyes shut and scrunched her face to struggle with the syllable, "C-c-canines, or something." Doris explained, shuffling her large wiry rat's feet across the building's rich polished cedar floors. "No offense t-t-t-taken, I hope?" Doris said to Maile, guiding the panda-girl towards a large full-set bar instead, pulling up a stool for her to sit in, which she did with profound courtesy.
	"That's no worry, actually makes sense. Thank you." Maile said. Doris chuckled with a smirk and a wink, clicking her tongue.
	"Think n-n-n-nothing of it, young lady! Go on and g-g-g-get yourself a d-d-drink, if you'd like. I'll try to r-r-rustle up a water b-b-b-bowl for your furry f-f-f-f-f-friend, there. D-d-damn this s-stutter!" Doris said, cursing her verbal disability while looking down at Sammy, admiring his lavishing German shepherd traits. Such a handsome dog he turned out to be! Doris considered Maile to be a very lucky dog-owner. She hopped into action, heading towards a kitchen located far behind the bar itself. Maile glanced around and saw all kinds of anthros: a fox and vixen swapping spit beside a large jukebox, a gaggle of geese tossing darts at a felt-cork target with former president Trump's printed face covering the bullseye, a small group of avian females dancing their asses off with each other on the main floor, beside Sable's DJ set, all complimented with a wide range of other species in all manner of shapes and sizes. The turnout upon this evening was ideal at best, quite a haul. Maile glanced upon a high-rise platform, on the other side of the building entirely, nestled in a corner beside the DJ's booth. She wondered what could possibly be up in the concealed space, adorned with velvet curtains and golden tasseled rope. She thought she could see a pungent blue haze drifting from between the curtains, wondering if whoever occupied the space wasn't blazing it up with furious persistence.
	"What'll it be, panda-girl?" One of the bartenders hollered out to Maile in an angelic voice, a white-furred tigress with attractive curves.
	"I'll take a tequila shot with a pineapple back, thanks!"
	"Any specifics on tequila?" Asked the barkeep with a feisty feline's grin.
	"If you've got any silver or aged anejo lying around, I'll jump on that action." Maile said, grinning politely at the feline with a golden tooth and an irreverent edginess practically unheard of in most kittens of her age and caliber.
	"Spoken like a true Hispanic, eh chica? You got it, one sec. Name's Rae, by the way. My partner over there is Ani." The other tigress, an orange-furred beauty, took notice and waved at the anthro girls while tapping a keg of IPA for a belligerent drunken hamster patron. 
	"Pleased to meet you! I'm Maile." They shook hand-paws with vast eloquence, Maile squeezing Rae's hand-paw slightly.
	"Oh, like that singer girl? Y'know, the Cyrus daughter?"
	"Not exactly, spelled a little different and even pronounced slightly off."
	"Huh. Okay then! Maile, eh? Would this be your first time in here?" Rae asked.
	"Pretty much." Maile said, nodding her head. Ani twirled a path past Rae with a graceful elegance and reached up for a shot glass, though there were none available. She gave a visible exhuming sigh, rubbed her fur-covered forehead with a twang of frustration and hollered towards the kitchen at the top of her lungs, causing the bar counter itself to vibrate slightly and glasses to hum.
	"YO, FUCKHANDS!!! WE NEED MORE SHOTTIES OUT HERE!!! BREAK'S OVER!!!"
	From the doorway that led into the kitchen, an anthro alligator's head peered out and he gave Ani a scaled thumbs-up. Maile giggled at the nickname. Rae cocked her eyebrow and leaned in closer. 
	"We call him fuckhands because he's really fuckin' good at usin' his hands for stuff, ya dig? Opening rusty cans, bar-backin' for us tigresses, even keepin' our sauciest clientele in check, if ya catch my drift?" Maile did, with a feverish blush to prove it. Sammy glanced up at her curiously, cocking his head at an angle. "Anyways, the dude's got a way about him, I tell ya. His real name's Sebastian Boonstoppel, but ya ain't ever heard that nonsense from me or my sister over there, dig?" Rae said to Maile, maintaining a low husky whisper so as not to be overheard by Sebastian as he brought forth freshly-washed shot glasses.
	"Not a word." Maile said with a grin, twirling her finger-paws together, reaffirming her promise never to tell. Rae smiled and stepped away for a moment to take other drink orders, including Cheetah-girl's cranberry vodka served in a highball goblet because to her, more always meant better.
	After a few minutes, Seb the gator dishwasher, aka fuckhands, brought out a plastic navy blue rack filled to the brim with freshly washed shot glasses, dampened surfaces reflecting colorful lights across the counter's surface. Ani thanked the faithful reptilian dishwasher with a pat on his shoulder and proceeded to grab hold of a fresh glass to pour a shot of tequila for Maile Martinez, sexiest hybrid anthro she'd ever laid her own tigress eyes upon. Rae cracked open a can of pineapple juice, poured it into a plastic cup and the anthro tigresses handed both beverages to Maile, thanking them accordingly. She downed the shot and sipped at the juice like she'd been downing tequila shots all her long and arduous life. The tigresses whistled and giggled like two coy schoolgirls.
	"I'm glad you agree with that one, we rarely pour our top-shelf tequila for just anyone."
	"Thank you, its freaking delicious." Maile said, eyes wide with satisfaction.
	"Sure thing, hon! Glad you enjoy it." Rae thought of other far more crude things which Maile may enjoy. Maile's eyes began to glow and she gave the white-furred tigress a suspicious glare.
	"What's on your mind, Rae?" Maile asked, though not needing to, for she could see everything. All her deviant little fantasies of the panda hybrid becoming her property and bending backwards to appease her will, oftentimes performing illicit sexual favors just for the fun of it.
	"I'm wondering what brings a legitimately beautiful hybrid such as yourself here, of all places. I know you aren't a regular, so what's got you showin' up in Sassy McSapphs?"
	"Actually, I was interested to know more about your deejay. What's her name?"
	"Sable. She's almost ready to get things going too, just a little more time for her to get set up."
	"I see. Do you know a lot about her? Specifically preferences in men or women."
	Rae grinned a wide Cheshire Cat's grin and gave Maile a lustful expression.
	"And what's got you so interested in our husky-girl deejay?" Ani asked, joining in on the grilling.
	"I've heard from a friend who attended this place previously that she's incredibly fun to hang out with so I wanted to get better acquainted with her, that's all. So! Know anything about her that I don't, ladies?"
	Ani collected Maile's empty glasses and placed them into a sink for Fuckhands to collect at his earliest leisure. Rae smirked at her, chuckling low."Only that she's a real freak when it comes to feral dogs. But don't tell anyone I said that, ya dig?" Rae asked politely but with a firm insistence. 
	Maile smiled with utmost satisfaction, hearing absolutely all she needed to hear. "Thank you, ladies. Take it easy, okay? I'll see you again soon." Maile said.
	"Sure thing, Maile! But I gotta warn ya, if my sister and I were to tell you all we know about Sable, you might opt to get a full-length novel written about her."
	Maile curled her eyebrows and leaned in closer to Rae. "Give me a New York Times bestseller, then. I'm all ears."
	Rae sighed, nodded and took a deep breath, then she told Maile all she ever needed to know about Sable the husky deejay female with a penchant for dog-loving, much to Ani's reluctance.
~
9:29 pm
	Sable finally got her sound system set up and she made an announcement of incoming music momentarily, showing those in attendance a blank sheet for specific song requests, if any should be made. She was really good at distinguishing her crowds though, had a savant's advantage in identifying any demographic and their preference in musical taste. She rarely ever received any special requests. Tonight, however, she'd not only receive a freaking astonishingly strange and unique request, but a healthy German shepherd's fat throbbing veiny knot as well. Suggesting things go according to plan.
	Maile hopped off her barstool and proceeded towards the DJ's setup, Sammy following closely behind, trotting along by her hooved heels. Neither Doris the stuttering rat-girl bouncer nor anyone else would hope to dissuade Maile of her primary motive. She wanted to see if the rumors were indeed true.
~
	At the doorway into Sassafrass McSapphire's club, a stunningly attractive calico-cat anthro girl waited with the others in line to gain admittance. She pulled a lock of dirty blonde bang free from her petite muzzle and brushed off a few shedding turquoise-glowing feathers, for she was a calico-bluejay hybrid, and her informants had all suggested that she'd meet her forlorn ex-lover in this ridiculous shitshow. Bear-boy at the door ogled her from eartips to fuzzy toepaws fitted neatly into high-heel stilettos and he attempted to ensure his surprise erection stay concealed, so as not to embarrass himself too heavily. 
	"Hi! Is there a cover charge to get in?" The calico-hybrid asked. Her thin spiny tail swayed and jerked with a mind unto its own, brushing against others in line, also diligently waiting to get in.
	"For you, darlin'? Hell to the no, come on in." Bear-boy insisted with great enthusiasm.
	"Thanks!" She exclaimed, slipping a hundred-dollar billfold into his suit jacket's front lapel pocket. She also squeezed at his groin teasingly and brushed her whiskers against his snout, provoking an early on-set sneeze to build up. He stifled it as well as his erection and cleared his throat, glancing away from her, hoping not to become far too distracted.
	"I'm Katherina, by the way!" Calico-girl said, wide smile pasted upon her brown-eyed face, ivory teeth shimmering in the low light of the building's facade. 
	"Cool." Bear-boy said, unfamiliar with anyone named Katherina by a long shot.
	"Katherina Manchego, you don't know me?"
	"Am I supposed to?" Bear-boy asked with resolute honesty, truly unfamiliar with her. She scoffed and let go of his crotch, turning her head away and marching into the building with a profound new arrogance unheard of just moments before. He held his arm out and barricaded her entry, which caused Katherina's face to go solid and her eyes to glance at Bear-boy with intense disgust and frank irritation. "Show me some ID and you'll be let in, easy-breezy-Japanese-eey."
	"This is such fucking bullshit. I'm famous, you know. Actually played for you guys here before."
	"That's nice, I'm a new hire so I wouldn't have known. ID, please." Bear-boy persisted, large thick hand-paw held upright, beckoning her to show him the great golden ticket into paradise.
	The cat-girl shoved her hand-paw into her pocket and held her photo identification up in front of Bear-boy's face, frowning in a dire pout. He looked at the necessities and verified that she was of legal age to enter, despite her youthful features and petite figure. Feather clumps grew wildly from her elbows, kneecaps, shoulders and along the spinal column of her back and neck. Her finger-paws were slightly scaled, like bird's feet. If not for acting like a complete and utter egocentric super-bitch, Bear-boy might have found interest in asking her out on a date.
	He just stepped aside and let her enter the establishment with stern silence.
	"Fucking narcissist..." He whispered beneath his breath, straight out of earshot, as she passed by and entered Sassafras McSapphire's club.
~
9:41 pm
	A knock emanated from the door within the DJ's booth as Sable was busy setting up shop. She stopped connecting wires to amps long enough to look over her shoulder and wonder who'd be knocking so early. Surely the management was not in need of anything more? Had she forgotten something, or did someone have a complaint to make early? Sable connected a microphone cord into an amplifier jack and hoisted herself upright, standing tall within the tiny cubicle-sized room, ivory white fur glowing under a blacklight and her own special LED lamp. She walked towards the door, flicking on a nearby light switch. A long slender fluorescent tube twitched and sparked into life, illuminating the entire room with ease. She powered off her special mini-lamp and pocketed it. To one side of the small room sat a dingy aged sofa, a love cushion from the seventies with enough knicks, stains and tears to show for it. Sable feared even sitting on it for a few minutes, worried that she'd be contaminated with the AIDS virus or something gruesomely similar.
	"Come on in!" Sable hollered, wrapping up extra cables to be stowed away in a nearby satchel. 
	"It's locked!" Replied a female's voice. Sable's interest suddenly piqued significantly and she peeked into a tiny peephole embedded into the center of the door. Through it, she saw a fisheye-lens perspective of a red panda girl, or a ram, some kind of goat. She was definitely a hybrid. 
	"Hang on!!" Sable called out. She walked over to the locked door, turned the handle and let in the most attractive female anthro she'd ever seen. Right at the panda-girl's very heels, cloven-hooved from what Sable could see, entered a robust German shepherd dog. Sable glanced down at him funny, then shrugged and closed the door behind Maile, wondering what on earth this girl and her dog could possibly want.
	"Hello, please come in, take a seat and make yourself at home." Sable said. Maile nodded with a gesture of thanks to her, plopping down into the sofa with no resistance or second though. Brave girl, Sable thought to herself. "Care for a drink?"
	"No thanks, I just had a couple already, from the bar. Those tigresses sure know their stuff!"
	"Yes, Ani and Rae have been working together before any of us can even remember. I think they might be twins, if not just very close sisters." Sable said.
	"Righteous. Thanks for the offer, though!" Maile said to Sable. Sammy sat patiently by Maile's hooved feet, watching Sable with calculated interest. From a window looking into the booth, Maile glanced out and saw a large spiraling lattice-iron stairway. She figured that it led up to the curtained VIP lounge area above the DJ's sound booth. For a very brief moment, Maile could've sworn she saw Maxwell trot up the stairs, led on by a large red and black-furred shepherd-guy. That subtle telepathic connection between them couldn't be felt though, so the chances of Maxwell and Maile in the same building at once were beyond slim.
	She considered such a distinct coincidence, briefly.
	The white-furred albino husky girl glided towards a leather-bound office chair placed in front of a large digital panel that controlled all the audio and video equipment in the facility. The room itself, though tiny in size and stature, was a techophile's wet dream. Maile had an idea as to just why Maxwell was so intrigued by the place. It wasn't just the slutty girls or the strong booze - it was this absolute beast of a sound system that kept Maxwell coming back for more. Sassafrass McSapphire had the capacity to dent planet Earth itself with its epic highs and soul-gnashing lows. Of course Max would be drawn to that music, go figure!
	"Of course. My pleasure." Sable said with a dashing smile, enough to make Maile blush a bit.
	"Actually, there's another reason why I'm here tonight."
	"That's kinda what I figured, hon." Sable said with a solemn gaze. 
	"Don't worry! I don't have court summons papers to serve you or anything, not even here to ask for donations or... Sable. That's your name, right?"
	Sable grinned wide, visibly excited to be recognized. "Yes! You've got the right deejay."
	"What would you say if I told you that my pet German shepherd here, Samson by name, is a prized asset to not just myself or my own family, but to the entirety of anthropomorphic women everywhere?"
	"I'd say you've got all the right reasons to believe so. He's quite a handsome pupper." Sable said, smiling down at him. She slapped her kneecap while sat in the leather chair and Sammy ran to her side, wagging his tail and panting with his tongue lolling freely from above his chin. 
	"Thank you, from both of us. Now what if I were to tell you that his sperm is nearly priceless? Rare, one of a kind, extremely potent and best of all, fully compatible with anthropomorphics?"
	Sable felt a tiny tickling flush of heat emanate through her crotch at such an idea.
	"That's something, all right." Sable said, trying not to become far too visibly perturbed.
	"Something. Yes." Maile stood up from the couch, eyes glowing feverish jaded green.
	"Look, what was it you wanted with me, exactly?" Sable asked, feeling a bit uneasy over Maile's glowing eyes. She approached Sable and reached out a hand-paw. The husky girl's arms raised up to her sides as if in a crucifixion pose. She gave Maile a confused, alarmed glance. 
	"What's happening? I'm not even doing anything, why am I moving on my own??"
	"Patience is a virtue, dear. I think you'll be quite relieved with what I'm about to give you. Or more accurately, what my partner here is about to give you." Maile said, acknowledging Sammy with her arms held outright towards him. 
	"What in fuck's name is THAT supposed to mean?!" Sable said, muzzle scrunched up into a snarl, slowly becoming more panicked at her circumstance yet attempting to keep her cool, maintain her nerve, not freak out or try to scream for help, very little good that would do.
	Maile creaked her neck and began to strip herself of all her clothing. Sable's blush flooded her cheeks and she struggled to break free from the demonic hybrid's telekinetic grip, failing gradually.
	"It means you'll be the bearer of a beautiful new anthro mix. A hybrid creature with both feral and anthropomorphic genes. You'll be responsible for achieving the impossible. Think about it! We'll be remembered for centuries in the making, all thanks to our glorious efforts! Or yours, more or less."
	"Whose idea is this? Who's putting you up to it, huh? What's this, a dare? A sick joke? Let me go or I swear I'll fuck you up, you dumb bit-"
	Sammy barked and ran up to Sable then, pressing his nostrils against the ridge of her mons and growling deep and loud. He'd threaten to bite her inner thigh if she continued to act up towards his master. Maile, however, pulled him back and calmed him down by rubbing at his neck-scruff.
	"There there, boy, relax. I've already forgiven her. I don't want you to hurt her. Just... fuck her really hard, that's all. No hurting, you understand?" Maile said to her dog, earnest and sure.
	Sable stared at Sammy, at his sheath, then her eyes met Maile's glowing jaded-green oculars and the husky-girl pleaded to her silently with all her might to just be let go, to forget all about this.
	Sammy, however, had other plans in mind, especially when he began to lick at the rough fabric of Sable's denim jean shorts, dampening her crotch with his saliva. 
	"Aaah!! No! Bad dog! Go away!" Sable yelled, trying to break free from Maile's gridlocked mental connection, to no avail. Sammy's tongue slathered its way past her shorts, slipped beneath her soft billowy cotton panties and began to permeate her vaginal folds with German shepherd saliva, so smooth, slimy and warm to the touch. Sable felt Sammy's pulse echo from his tongue as he licked her pussy deep, breathing hard against her clitoris, permeating her vulva with warm slobber, cold wet dog nose so cool to the touch, lubricating her for a round or several of serious dogfuckery. Maile's stance never changed, despite her incredible urge to break down and join in on the action. She had a mission to uphold and nothing would distract her from achieving her task, not even the succulent promise of drippy, raunchy, fucked-hard interspecies erotica with her beloved pet.
~
9:57 pm
	Katherina sat down at the bar counter and observed the entirety of the Sapph's turnout. Bunch of junkies and whores, the whole lot. She didn't understand what Maxwell saw in this place either. She suspected that he'd been frequenting this establishment for years before they'd ever even met. If that should be the case, then he deserved every square inch of the dilapidated little shithole. Ani, the delightfully headstrong orange-furred tigress sister, approached the calico-bluejay hybrid, asking her what she wanted to drink.
	"Vodka tonic, please, and hold the freaking olive."
	Ani rolled her eyes and nodded affirmatively, getting right to work on the mixed drink. Katherina looked up towards the velvet curtain-covered space, nestled directly above the DJ's sound booth, wondering what might possibly be behind those curtains, or maybe even who. She felt a profound urge to walk up the rickety old spiral staircase nearby and find out for herself. Somehow, she wouldn't have been too surprised to find Maxwell up there, knotted balls-deep in the ass of some random dog-girl bitch, somebody who simply wasn't Katherina. 
	Slowly and deliberately, she began to ponder the distinct possibility of meeting him in here. What an absolute coincidence that would be! She silently brainstormed what she'd say to him if she did happen to luck out.
~
10:08 pm
	The rolling office chair was pushed aside, landing against a nearby wall with a loud hollow thud strong enough to cause the fluorescent bulb within Sable's DJ booth to flicker out, casting a black-lit glare over the two anthros and lone feral. A knock came from the door, someone asking to put in a song request. Sable restrained a flurry of lustful moaning breaths and Maile allowed her a chance to catch a breath. Sable asked the outside individual to come back later, for she was still setting up, hoping her whimpering gasps wouldn't choke her up too severely. The outside individual condemned her for getting a late start, then stumbled away with uncoordinated drunken steps, hiccupping heard loud over the happenstance camaraderie.
	"Y'know, this stupid-ass futon of a couch is extremely uncomfortable. What gives?" Maile asked Sable, then giggled aloud. "Oh! Sorry, you're a bit preoccupied, aren't you? My bad... mmmnf, fucking hell yes, don't stop!"
	Maile buried Sable's muzzle deeper into her crotch, feeling the illustrious sensation of her robust husky-girl tongue twirling and flipping and spiraling from within her panda-hybrid womanhood while Maile sat at the edge of the couch. From behind Sable's spread-legged knelt-down body, Samson was heavily involved in fucking the husky-girl from behind like a good boy, like he'd been trained to do with Maile. He slammed himself against her fast and hard, penetrating her vagina with repetitive thrusting motions, slipping his bulbous knot in and out of her freely, smashing his pelvis against her own and gripping hold of her fuzzy hips with loving candor. Sable's tail was shoved aside and wrapped around Sammy's waist as she took his large knotted dick like a champ, shrieking and moaning in-between gasping bursts of air and occasional pleasure-induced growls.
	"Y-you...fuckin'bitch...tell him to... slow downomygodfuckmeharderAAAAUGH FUCK YES!!!"
	"If you stay good, you'll be rewarded quite prominently. I can assure you, scout's honor."
	Sable moaned and tried to say something, but found herself unable to break free from Maile's pussy lips. The panda-demon tasted fucking sensational, beyond anything imaginable. "And if you call me a fucking bitch again," said Maile with a raspy low voice, "I'll drag you down to hell and leave you below, abandon you where I came from. Ever been gang-raped by a group of insane homicidal cannibalistic monsters? By the Gods upon high, I know I certainly have. Don't bring that down upon yourself!" Between the taste of Maile's ridiculously sweet and savory vagina and Sammy's intense lovemaking, Sable wouldn't last for much longer, she knew it for a fact.
	And she didn't.
	At the very moment of the trio's shared mutual climax, flames protruded from Maile's ram-horns and from the tip of her tail, pyres illuminating the blacklight's glow, compensating for a busted fluorescent tube. The flickering flames frightened Sable enough to jerk herself back from Maile's crotch. She lifted Sammy up into the air, still embedded into her pussy and threw herself backwards. The dog's hip collided with the control panel, pressing a few buttons and sliding equalizer tabs out of tune. Sammy barked and bit down upon Sable's neck as he finally endured his feral animalistic achievement, ejaculating warm, thick, viscous semen ropes into her husky-girl's swollen puffy heated vagina. Her shrill, high-pitched voice echoed throughout the entire building as she endured a dog-dick-induced orgasm, reaching down between her legs to fondle at her tiny pebble-hard stiff clitoris. Maile chuckled low, very pleased with the outcome. She knelt down and kissed Sable's cheek.
	"Thank you for bearing his gift of seed, sweet child. You are a blessed soul now, we must-"
	"Fuck you, ya crazy bitch-ass freaking... bitch!!! Let me go NOW." Sable said, trying to wedge Sammy free from her backside, which hurt with his fat knot buried in her husky-girl twat all the way, squirting cum within like a burst fire hydrant. 
	"Awww, good boy, Sammy! Good boy! You've done so well, putting her in her place!" Maile exclaimed, kneeling down to kiss her beloved pet. "All in due time, child. You've done well for me and for him. I'm about ready to return the favor in full, don't you worry a bit about a thing." Maile said, petting Sammy's head and kissing his muzzle, still scented heavily with Sable's vaginal discharge. Maile felt tingly in her belly and inhaled deep, taking in all the scents of heavy sex and potent booze. Sammy returned her kiss with cheek-licks, even while his knot remained tied deep within Sable.
	"We ought to start calling you Slammy instead of Sammy, huh boy?" Maile said, giggling at her own silly joke.
	Sable struggled to break free, snarling at Maile with eyes brimming in hatred. "You free me right now or else I'll-"
	"MAXWEEEEEELL?!!?! ARE YOU HERE TONIGHT?!!!"
	Maile and Sable both glanced at each other curiously, then peered outside through the DJ booth's double-paned-glass window to witness a fairly short, petite young-looking feline-avian hybrid standing upright on the dance floor, calling out Max's name.
	So he was here all along, then. Maile suspected she recognized the elusive figure who'd gone up the spiral steps earlier, before all hell broke loose and sexuality reigned supreme. She wondered if he'd heard or seen much through his telekinetic abilities and realized that she didn't actually care all that much. Maile knew that Maxwell could choose to tap into her mind any time, yet this time refused to do so, for some reason. Perhaps he'd been preoccupied with whatever - or whoever - he'd discovered upstairs?
	In any case, Maile Martinez's full-fledged attention now leaned towards Katherina Manchego, the calico-bluejay hybrid who cheated on Maxwell Blackburnadeaux behind his back with another half-a-dozen fertile studs of various species and size, instead of fostering Sable and Sammy, helping to conceive the perfect anthro-feral hybrid. The panda-girl was extremely curious to see how things would play out between Kat and Max.
	Suddenly, Maile craved another tequila shot like crazy.
~
END