The First Penitatas: Bexley
Original Series by Vaahn



It was tough for a child to be alone in the dark, but when the child wasn’t used to even being their new age yet, the feelings and tumultuous worries made for a mind that clambered in silence. In nothing but her own fur did the girl sit on hard, barely smoothed stone and brick with her knees tucked to the flat of her chest; seemingly unfamiliar dark fur sparsely intermingled with the blotchy lighter bits of golden blonde she would have been better acquainted with a day ago, unable to stop staring at her own short, innocent looking fingers in pained disbelief. So many things were wrong with the sight, from their size and color, right down to the glaring etching of silver beneath her knuckles, forming this ‘P’-looking symbol adopted from another world onto Taviksaad only recently. In a way it did her a favor… but, in all others, it brought only tears to her eyes, though there were none in the grungy, dank smelling room of stone and metal bars to see them. Those wet eyelids left her feeling so weak and unsure, wrestling with the mind of a four year old.

The Revelry had only just ended across the districts and lands, leaving the cell meant for fresh slaves empty while others had been too busy releasing their sexual tensions to arrest, or simply having too much filthy fun to bother so much as committing crimes. Bexley was the only one she knew of… if that was even her name any longer, when being female was just as new and uncomfortable as her small, toddler-like body. It was only so long ago that the man he once was cheered for the miracle of rejuvenation and the technology that came with it when the lords unveiled the social system, saving those from the clutches of the Shepherd while setting their worst off to be punished in ways they’d never be able to defend their soft hides and very souls against. Here he was, in the same place he thought would be a wonderful thing, not so much as certain what his gender truly was any longer when he stepped from the rejuvenator feeling oddly light in his groin, with a fur pattern of an entirely different person; a Dawnsider left to come to terms with not even having a tuft at the end of their tail any longer, in this bizarre bending of reality.

There was no trial, not that one was needed when his hand was caught in the proverbial snack-container. Well-punched into submission by the local Enforcers of the law, despite not resisting, he was thrown into a transport vehicle when his home district had no rejuvenator of its own. It left him a girl, and without so much as knowing where in all of Taviksaad he was.

In time a foreign looking man came into the cell chambers followed by another Kyrreni in worn armor. She was looked over by the light they let in through the door, all staring without much of a sound, before the pair turned and left without concern for the tiny thing huddled in nothingness. It tucked the wolf-like girl’s muzzle into her kneecaps, canid lips quivering like she’d blubber in her self-loathing, but it was hardly two minutes before the door swung back open with a metallic creak. It was followed by the jingle of keys, and as soon as the door to her cell was unlocked, the scruffy man in the armor turned around and left if there were to be no prisoners or slaves left to look after – good riddance, with surely better things to do then watch one four year old mope.

The different-looking man that remained came into the cell slowly, not seeming to be either well built or all that tall. His fur more orange than the golden hues of a Kyrreni male, it was accented by a strip of black along the sides of his more narrow muzzle in the light, and had this flowing, bushy tail that came to a white tip. Vulpine and smartly dressed, looking fairly clean for someone that didn’t look anything remotely of nobility, he was an Aspatrian; not that Bexley was all that familiar, or truly cared in the situation she was in. Once a leather collar slipped from the pocket of the man’s artisan vest, who he was became readily apparent.

He was her owner.

With a kneel and not a word, the fox came down to the level of her weak, huddled cower and slipped the seemingly soft leather across the fur of her neck. Fighting a tiny, dauntingly girlish whimper of fear and sadness, Bexley fought not to cry in the more uncontrollable trembles that came to her lip, sniveling and sputtering despite. Still, the fingers didn’t pull or prod, securing the collar until it fit comfortably snug and the sound of a metallic click coincided with a faint tug. Bexley cracked her watery eyes to find a simple lead clutched in his paw-like hand, and a fair idea of what all could be in store for her.

“… Are you-… ?”, her shaken voice tried to whisper, bringing the man to take a tightened expression across his muzzle.

“Hush. Not yet.”, he replied promptly in a way that made it sound dismissive. Bexley wasn’t about to argue.

Once he stood and motioned with the lead that it was time to go, the new little girl rose to her feet and walked behind with her head hung. It felt terrible to be naked and walking toward light where she’d actually be seen, but there wasn’t a whole lot of hope in her that there was any clothing waiting just outside. And, of course, there wasn’t.

Though as her small paws left the metal of the jail and a bright light forced her slit irises to contract, the lift of a shielding hand made her find that there wasn’t exactly anyone around to see her as she was anyway. It looked like the interior of a fairly nice dome that was well kept, as if their jail was tucked just enough out of the way to be off the main thoroughfare on its own concourse… perhaps not seeing that many criminals here to begin with, leaving Bexley all the more curious and worried for the sake of her hide. The stories of what happened to those newly rejuvenated little girls were horrifying, and he tended to be in the right place to even witness a few of those stories be written in person.

“I might be a law abiding citizen, but I don’t like talking my business anywhere near cameras. You had one pointed at you in that cell you were keeping warm, likely with some lazy Enforcer watching on the other end. Guys are glorified babysitters for the grown children that play in their gangs.”, the Aspatrian man griped with a lower sort of tone without so much as turning his head, making clear note of how he preferred his privacy and liberties on this sometimes ass-backwards planet he did at least enjoy when Enforcers and local ruffians alike weren’t in the middle of trying to make a bloody sandwich out of his skull. Bexley tried looking up with this intentionally submissive expression as she walked behind, seeing the vulpine creature of a man turn his head to try and look back down along the length of the leash he held.

“Name’s Reisner.”, the fox did at least greet, though it sounded like it had some anti-social and rough inflections to how he fired off the syllables; the leather lead he held getting a bit of a flick from his hand, as if in gesture. When it merely got the Kyrreni he was leading along to nod her head, that eye of Reisner’s squinted with a look across his face.

“This is the part where you talk.”, he seemed to suggest with some awkward annoyance, damn near publicly musing aloud what the hell he just got himself into getting into this new-fangled Penitatas program.

“Oh – Bexley. I’m Bex.”, she quickly got out of her muzzle, so unsure of what to do with her fidgeting hands and tail. Wanting to cry made her voice squeak, but she kept it down seeing as nothing bad was happening… yet, at least.

“Bex, huh.”, the middle-aged fox grumped as he stepped up off the path and onto the transport platform that served the area.

Metal back beneath their feet without a soul around, the tiny platform was all theirs – not that Reisner was about to wait for a car. A casual and lackadaisical smack of the control console with an open hand on the way by made it chirp strangely in protest, bringing one car to surge forward and stop with a wobble and a clang against the magnetic rail it hardly rode upon.

“Well congrats. I need help around my workshop, and it looks like you’re it… not that I had anyone else to choose from, when the rest of you Kyrreni were too busy keeping me up with horny racket to get arrested and enslave yourselves. Can’t say the likes of your crime were exactly what I was looking for.”, that griping, persistently gruff tone of the vest-wearing man went on to suggest she not give him any “buyers remorse” over choosing her as his first slave while he waited for the car’s doors to noisily clatter themselves open for them, groaning the same as he tended. Showing that he knew exactly why she was thrown into being a Penitatas made Bexley swallow uneasily, balling her hands defensively over her chest.

“… It was an accident.”, Bex could hardly stop her quivering little voice from whispering, wanting to plead that it was all just a misunderstanding. It became a bad time to be so meek and have her eyes on her feet.

A jerk on the leather leash that held her made the four year old take a forward stumble, and after a mere single step did she take a hard, plowing blow of an open Aspatrian paw to the left side of her face. So small to that of an adult, even if the vulpine man seemed to have such stubbier fingers, that palm-pad crossed her muzzle with the reach of fingers that whipped clear into cheek and across her ear, slapped so hard it was more like a punch in the way it knocked her clear off her feet to fall with a bang upon the platform – dulled by that of her own girlish screech. The pain was immediate and the burn came second, clutched by both her hands with the tantrum-like batting of her legs with a sobbing, frustrated cry.

“I had no intention of doing a single thing like that until you saw your home and at least got to know you’d be in a decent place and not some shit-forsaken brothel, but I will absolutely split you in two with the first electrical wire I can rip out of this damn mag-line car if you’re going to feed me that you fucked some little kid on accident!”, Reisner came forward with the slam of a lightweight boot upon rickety worn metal plating, curling his muzzle to the distinct and liberal bearing of fangs in ways far removed from the casually sarcastic drips of his personality. Bexley breathing quickly, whimpering and making such shrill and scared little sounds, she kicked along the platform with her feet to extend the lead attached to her collar taut.

Before she could so much as say anything else, that boot came around to her side, and when she flinched expecting a kick, the grumpy fox merely used his foot to give her light body a shove. She glided along on her own fur over the lip of the platform and into a waiting door of the car Reisner “summoned”, tail streaming awkwardly with the immodestly bared split of her own vulva in having no clue where to even begin in hiding the damn thing.

“I… !”, Bexley tried speaking again, but opening the chocolate brown of her muzzle; two little blonde spots of marbling just under each eye; just made the forlorn and scalded child explode into a series of sobs. It wasn’t until the car’s doors began to close and the old, haphazardly operating transit system clunked back into moving that she could get even the smallest handle on her emotions.

“I didn’t know she was a real kid! I’m not lying!”, the words hurt to say for several reasons, including not knowing if it would cause her to be hit so hard again. She couldn’t let him think the worst of her like that for the sake of her hide either! She didn’t want to think of herself that way either…

“Tch’!”, the Aspatrian let off his tongue and though his teeth harshly, eyeballing down with a degree of his own disdain.

“Yeah, I can figure exactly how too. Revelry has you all hot and bothered, so you visit some hole-in-the-wall hell-house to cop yourself a good time with one of those fancy new rejuve girls. Legal and fair game. Being a cheap-ass, you get the most inexpensive piece of tiny-tail you could find.”, Reisner lifted and flicked the leather leash attached to Bex about, smacking and tapping at her own tearful muzzle with it as the car picked up speed and shot into the darkness; artificial lighting cropping up all around them.

“But those ‘penny slaves cost money, just like you cost me. A less reputable establishment can offer better prices if they abuse the local kids… or ‘Kindern’, I think they’re calling them now. And hey, poor you – horny jackass was too busy looking at the back of her head to check the backs of her hands.”, that oddly intelligent voice did so continue stabbing and twisting, able to maintain such calm of body while he went about his verbal railing. Bexley, took a deep breath and wet sniff, grabbing the base of the tan lead coming off her collar to cease it from the endless thwapping against her lips.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, just stop if you know-… !”, the whole thing just made her riled if he had enough of the puzzle put together to understand the night she had, when Enforcers sprung all over the place and interrupted his good time over things he didn’t know were transpiring beneath his own body.

Unfortunately, that was again the wrong thing to say to someone who took such umbrage over a minor being treated in such a way, to be dismissed with such callous. Bexley might not have meant for such things, but “she” still did them and was fully responsible for the penis that was taken away from her as institutionally required. As if simply to prove that he was a man of his word, Reisner reached up with his free hand and tore an electrical wire to one of the overhead lights clear from the fixture’s housing, and with a jerk of his body ripped a chunk of the line clear of the ceiling; bits and pieces of clamps and braces scattering across the floor with sharp ‘ticks!’ and bounces

“… And her crying was all just part of the fun then?”, a fox’s flavor of questioning annoyance followed, even as he bent the cabling into a whip in his hands, keeping that leash clutched as Bexley tried to slide backwards on her hands and feet again.

As soon as she felt the leash pull at her neck, Bex threw herself forward and down into a full bow against the floor, damn near slamming her face against the dirty old flooring of the mag-line car. Prostrating was an act that crossed cultural lines, and if her other submissive behaviors wouldn’t work, she’d grovel to keep from being cut into.

“I know what I did – I’m bad with words! I know you’re the master, I beg of you!”, the girl took the highest of the lowest roads she could, screeching so desperately with her new young voice in fear of being whipped bloody by a hard-insulated metal wire.

“I’m a fuck-up!”, she cried aloud into the metal plating, ears shaking along with her tail. Back heaving with the motions of her chest, she feared a pain she’d never be able to swallow…

A noisy clatter brought her head to move, and as soon as she saw it was the mess of light wiring on the floor in front of her nose did she slop over onto her side in a crumble and begin howling in a Kyrreni child’s tears. Spared what she was deathly afraid of, Reisner merely let her let those sorrows and fears melt away, watching her with a face that surely didn’t look happy. For a man that could be so stiff, the ends of his muzzle actually hooked into a frown while he wasn’t being stared at, running the sight through his mind of such a small thing as Bex was, clearly experiencing the throes of their physical age and terrible place in the world. For all his prodding words acting like he didn’t care about much; not even owning a slave he fully intended to buy as a helping hand to have around; he too was relieved he put the wire down.

They were able to have their peace for the rest of the ride while the transit system and streets were mostly dead while the city recovered from the Revelry, nursing bruised genitals and hangovers. Able to at least prove he wasn’t going to be entirely awful by sparing Bex something he had warned was entirely possible to happen, by the time they arrived at their destination station Reisner was able to lead his tiny new slave along with little more than a tear-soaked long face. There was plenty more to say, but he held that in.

The exit to the station platform placed them in a dense street he was greatly familiar with, and finally had at least some movement to it. Air weirdly clean for some of the places around Taviksaad, everything seemed almost natural in how vibrant the light and temperate could be; signs and shops tucked so close together, dotting the whole way down like a city alley. It was hardly a twenty second trek and a single tug of the leather lead to keep Bex’s curiously weary eyes from staring at anything too long, soaking in this place. Under a board that described itself as being a pharmacy and chemist, Reisner stopped to unlock and throw a door open; a piece of metal attached to it ringing like a makeshift bell.

“This is your new workplace. Home too, but work first.”, the man’s indifferent sort of tone had returned to the place it was before, with the unpleasantries of crimes committed taken care of in their social repertoire.

It wasn’t the best lit, but looked little more than a more scientifically inclined person’s workshop. There was a few tables and benches to do different kinds of work behind the shop’s wooden counter, with bottles upon bottles stacked on shelves up to the ceiling. Powders sat on a tidy mat beneath a light in back, with a molding press beside it to form pills. There were smells of herbs and light chemicals, and was enough to keep Bex’s mouth shut as she stepped around, never pulling on the leash her newfound master held as she stuck to where she was guided.

“I make medicine. Some of it custom ordered, and for different purposes. I’m a chemist.”, he clarified of all the equipment and seemingly endless supply of substances. More of them appeared with the push of a side door… along with a small, already made bed.

“And this is your room. It’s also a storage closet, but that just means work is always in reach.”, came a little more of his casually smart-ass language, minus the ribbing he seemed to have earlier. As Bexley came to stare at the little bed, finding it at least nice to have a place to call her own with a pillow, blanket, and more than most in her place might have as a slave, she felt a light tug at her neck as the fox disconnected the leash from her collar.

“The people who run the program you’re in expect you to be taken care of, and I’ll be doing just that. You’re supposed to be punished and cared for, and I’m willing to do the whole thing. I’m no parent and want no part of that nonsense when you’re a grown-ass man in that girly body… so the rules are simple. You familiar with those places that have been popping up? ‘Corrections’ – the shops with all the goods for beating kids?”, Reisner questioned as part of a broader explanation, crossing his arms to let the leather leash lead dangle across his vest to his feet. Those stores were fairly well known even to those not affiliated with the concept of Penitatas rearing when Kyrreni young could be willful and thickheadedly tough things, allowing Bexley to nod her head with a hesitant exposure of a few sharp teeth.

“I’ll be getting some of those things, and you’ll be feeling them periodically no matter how clean you keep your nose. It’ll hurt less, the better you are. You mess up, or disobey me, and “corrections” will be exactly what will happen.”, was the best forewarning the astute fox’s colorful language could muster for this new position he had to fill, taking in a small servant through the new system the populace attempted to set forth to corral their criminals into places they could be useful and still be severely punished. With that in mind, he squinted slightly down at the soft, feminine gaze coming up his way from a small girl that hardly knew what to make of the world as it became.

“… And for what you did, I think I might put you in the same place you put that little girl, every once in a while. Use your little snoot as a tissue at least, if you’re no good at using your tongue.”, he knew very well he was more harshly condemning Bex to, and how cuttingly uncomfortable the notion alone would make her; something he very much hadn’t imagined when he set out to choose a slave to take in, but wouldn’t discount after learning exactly what “she” had done from that Enforcer earlier.

Those slit eyes of hers’ widening, Bexley shrank ever so faintly where she stood, looking like she wanted to withdraw backwards and simply had no place to go. She attempted to speak, but the stammer and lack of words came to sound no more than a confused, desperate whine, wanting no place of being the sexual slave she just thought she had gotten out of being! No part of her wanted any place near another guy – that thing she still felt like she was, at least at heart!

“Don’t give me that look like you’re not into men. I’m sure that kid didn’t want to touch your dick either. I’m not exactly into women, and less so into girls, so we’ll both just have to face the fact that you’ll be an object in those situations.”, did Reisner’s voice grow nearly scolding in the way he found himself trying to press to someone so young, having some of the same reservations over it himself. If Bexley could do that to some minor, or even some rejuve should the original plan have panned out, then she could be “punished” in an alternative and meaningful way to suit. He’d not mind having a place to put what his paw could milk, or something to hump should she earn less than what he would deem “friendly.”

“Just a sleeve, am I right? Something worth a coin or three? Cheap-cheap?”, he reminded of what had to have been Bex’s own mindset over going to that brothel to pay to nail some rejuvenated girl, purposely making it more teasing and prodding. Unsurprisingly, just as having those misdeeds bared into the open the first time, doing that made the little Kyrreni look so wounded, turning slightly.

“So don’t be a little bastard, and-… ”, Reisner followed his voice until he stumbled, cracking a look across his muzzle.

“Pardon my manners. Don’t be a little bitch, and we’ll get along fine.”, he corrected his use of gender-insults, going full into putting Bexley into her place if she was to live under his shop and home’s roof; his own living quarters upstairs, above the place.

When that harsher form of “humor” failed to make any sort of hostile reaction, Reisner took a few steps to his nearby pill-forming station to set his Penitatas’ new leash down; one eye keeping on Bex, just to see if she’d make any sudden movements when he turned his back. There was nothing; not even a cross glare. She looked so perturbed, shaken and feeling a nobody. That was how the system seemed to want her to feel, as an object to be enslaved and beaten down until deemed reformed and paid. But…

“… You do good, and you’ll earn me buying you some clothes. Keep it up, and I’ll let you get some things to have fun with, and more time off to enjoy them. I know this ‘penny thing is some real fresh bullshit and nobody has any idea how to make this work, but I won’t run you off into trying to guzzle one of these bottles to death.”, the vulpine man lowered his voice and tried to remove some of his usual tones to convey, making a gesture to the ingredient vials and containers beside them in wanting Bexley to see that there was some light across all the darkness.

“It’ll be hard, but you’ll make it till it’s over. Just expect to pay. No free ride… you admitted you fucked up, and I’ll remind you with an electrical cord if I ever have to prove to you I’m not bothered by the sight of blood.”, the promise he made on the mag-line car returned as one he would hold over her, should he need to do something so drastic; his kinder notes rounded out with the threat of consequence, trying to paint a picture of a life she had more control over than she likely realized in the relationship he was looking to form. Trapped in her frown of worry, so young and impressionable, Bex looked through the doorway at her bed, trying to think of that closet as being a real bedroom.

“… But not if I’m okay? And I serve, as told?”, she asked wearily, and sounding like a real four year old.

“Right. I’m not going to torment you for the fun of it. Normal punishment for normal days, and light to none for good. Anything beyond that and you’ve really gone and screwed your ass up.”, the off-world resident of a fox felt like he was getting through to her as to how he meant for things to be. He had quite the way of speaking and was surely one of the smarter people in the entire district, but… yeah, he wasn’t the most social, and knew he didn’t always say the right things. Sometimes, not even friendly things. That time, he did get a bit of an eye from Bex, if he was to permit some of her own confidence and independence to bubble back up from being broken by fear.

“Not for the fun of it… except the sleeve part.”, she made at least as a statement, sounding so neutral even in questioning the act he suggested making her partake in. Reisner wondered if this was how a dad felt, pushing their kid to do something they didn’t want; a single nod affirming his will.

“Consider it one of your chores. Come if you’re called. Or would I be doing the coming?”, that directive as a master to a slave did so get a tad muddied by his own crass indifferent flavor of humor. That prompted Bex to make a face, crossing her arms… but not defying the words outright, which was good enough for now.

“Maybe we’ll both get lucky and my wit will grow on you. For now you can get to know the place, and I’ll guide you into some chores come tomorrow when the shop is open. Just be very careful touching anything, and it’s better you don’t pick up any glass when you’re looking around. Keep in mind how much would be poisonous to a four year old that wouldn’t be to anyone else.”, Reisner couldn’t help but try to smirk himself into a smile, being stared at with that look for his joke. Come on, he really didn’t dig girls, it would be an adventure for him as well.

“I don’t expect to be called master, or sir, or any other stupid title. Still, you’re doing the ‘penny thing, and so am I now. We have ‘bonding’ to do before bed… nothing too horrible. I’ll find something around here to make you answer to, and it will be brief and calm only so long as you are.”




Under the light of a simple desk lamp, Reisner leaned back in the chair he’d more leisurely prepare pharmaceutical powders when the shop was open. The old-style desk of wood and green, faded felt-like material propped his elbow while he read academic observations from other casual practitioners of his trade upon his portable electronic pad; the only other light source in a particularly dark room. With it being late at night, it was the sharp witted Aspatrian’s time to unwind and partake in other duties in order to properly manage his time, and his Penitatas. While the whole scene would have looked innocent from a few angles, Bex would have begged to differ in the position she was in.

Reisner had shed his typical vest and pants for the evening, doing as he normally would but with the assistance of Bex’s small Kyrenni maw to keep his right paw free for more comfortable reading. The sort to bang out two leisure tasks at a time, this was a way he could keep that up and enforce a bit of the extracurricular discipline he had promised his inadvertent Kindern abuser. The white for of his lower belly flowed into the thick of his sheath and that seemingly familiar dangle of his testicles that Bex once knew well, shaded into being dim by his own lounging body when that desk lamp really did do a whole hell of a lot. It at least gave Bex a degree of privacy that most Penitatas on the world didn’t seem to get from what she had seen from her brief time under the roof of his home and business; always taken aside for matters unpleasant, though the fox said it was more for his customer’s comfort than her own.

It left her on her knees upon the soft-feeling worn flooring below, hands settled upon the warm crease of where Reisner’s bare thighs met with the bulk of his groin. Not her first time at this point, the young Penitatas was far enough past her initial disgust and personal discomfort to do as she was told without protest, no matter how much she personally disliked the sensation of an Aspatrian rod in her mouth. She tightened the lips of her muzzle around the silken red length, stroking with her tongue and the motions of her head to provide the oral pleasures she was directed as part of her punishment.

The only catch was how long she had been doing there, basically idly sucking her owner off without the man so much as making a remotely stimulated puff of air from his black, vulpine nose. Not a twitch, a moan, or word – he just kept reading, leaving Bex faintly squinting up at him while her muzzle slid from pointed tip to the furred, fuzzy-feeling base of his sheath. Sensitive to being stared at, the middle-aged fox peered around the corner edge of his black, tablet-like device to meet with the little eyes trying to feel him out.

The gazes so similar, both out of their element, the moment of silence was surprisingly long; the wet sound of slapping and sucking being the only sound or motion in the entire shop.

“… If you’re looking for some performance commentary down there… ”, the fox’s muzzle popped open with one of his lower, more blandly cynical tones.

“You’re shockingly terrible for someone that supposedly had a dick.”, that pad fell limp in Reisner’s paw, lifting it with something of a wag in gesture. Even with a fat wad of surprisingly average Aspatrian phallus in her maw, Bexley’s expression drooped around it with a scowling sort of, “seriously?” allure to it.

“Yeah, I see that face. No, you have no experience, but you’d have to imagine this sort of blowjob sucks.”, the man popped right into a gruffer sort of bemoaning, slumping limper in his chair with a loose sway of his tail behind himself; dangling as it was.

“Or doesn’t – I don’t know.”, he of course couldn’t help but wisecrack at his own choice of words, bringing Bex to groan. That had to have at least tickled, seeing Reisner blink somewhat awkwardly at the sound resonating through his crotch.

Letting the situation go with a sigh through her nostrils, Bexley slid her hands around the base of her far older “partner” and tried to think of how to do better. She’d have to if she didn’t want to kneel here for an hour just to have a load jacked into the back of her throat by a man that would rather go to bed then get himself off any longer. The shape of vulpine masculinity, nor the flavor of soft skins basted by the interior of a hot sheath being something the once-male child was “into”, Bex closed her eyes and tried to imagine a wet, nice sleeve of sorts and how she might be able to be one. Such red flesh easy to glide upon, lubricating her saliva with slick strands intermingling in it whether Reisner was truly enjoying the attention or not, the four year old continued accepting the tip of the fox deeper into her throat to make broader strokes of muzzle.

A diligent bob made for an honest attempt Reisner was not about to fault when he merely wanted to discipline the girl over such matters, but before he could get back into his pad for long a sharp, jarring jab actually made the fox jump in his seat. Coming as a violent jerk, all the man’s muscles clamped down in surprise with a forward bolt to get up from his lazy position, given a harsh prick to that of his own – a shark-like tooth having gone astray to give him quite the slash along the lower side of his shaft. The pad smacked down upon the desk with a slam of his paw, muzzle curling like he was about to get into using his heavier, harsher words that weren’t tainted with the same levels of casual apathy, but in the motion and glare of his eyes did Bexley’s maw pop free of his length with a surprise of her own.

Not looking the same kind of worried since the accident was of no fault of her own in that case, Reisner’s cock smacked her cheek once free; something that made her blink a little more disquietedly in her hands reach for her mouth. With the face only a child could make, Bex plucked a loose tooth from her muzzle to be the thing that stopped her master from giving her an earful – and likely a heavy smack to each of hers for such a painful spook as that was. The little shark tooth between her fingers made her laugh, coming out like a little girl’s giggle.

“Whoops.”, Bex made light of the loss of her tooth, only for Reisner to sigh roughly.

“What the hell is with you Kyrreni and popping teeth out like they’re disposable?”, that paw of his came back up off his pad and desk with a flick; his length below left to throb and idle jump in the low light, faintly shimmering a thin sheen of Bex’s saliva.

“What, you want it?”, Bex wiped her muzzle with the fur of her opposite forearm, cracking a playful smirk in offering the lost toddler-tooth with an upward reach toward Reisner – something he recoiled from with a slight roll on his chair’s wheels away from her.

“No, that’s just creepy, get that away from me.”, the man put up his general bitchy shielding; voice returning to that of a grumpy coot. Such a thing could only make a four year old sly in wanting to tease and play.

“Nope, you’re my owner – take the tooth!”, Bexley did so insist if she was going to be on the floor, sucking on certain parts of him until her baby teeth popped free. She’d have a new one in a few days, but apparently the Aspatrian offworlder couldn’t quite handle the thought of such things.

“I – don’t – want it!”, Reisner threw his head back and complained, soon coming to be chased around by a naked little Penitatas while his own bottomless self bobbed around the workshop in its own weighty leaps and bounds.

It was a bit strange, and a bit broken if thought about too hard, but at least the two got along.
