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Now she's paroled, and it's time for people from her past to finally get their comeuppance.", "count": "4", "submission_left_submission_id": "3202433", "submission_left_file_name": "4819252_Vaahn_holdenthorpes_2.rtf", "submission_right_submission_id": "3305704", "submission_right_file_name": "5003228_Vaahn_holdenthorpes_4.rtf" } ], "description": "", "description_bbcode_parsed": "", "writing": "Little Francine's world was focused entirely on the hot lashings of pain coursing through her backside, delivered by the fierce, rapid strokes of a cane. Her father's swings were brutal, each leaving a deep red welt that edged with yellow and purple of deeper bruisings, and despite the rejuve occupying the body of a four year old fox girl, the much larger, stronger reptile was pulling no punches. The Aspatrian's helpless howls echoed off the bare walls of her spartan bed-chamber, finding no sympathetic ears at all.\nThe twentieth cane stroke fell, leaving the naked, white-furred girl howling and sobbing. The instant it was done, Ross lifted the girl from his lap and placed her onto the bed, shuffling the flinching, howling little thing until her head rested upon the pillow. “Go to sleep now,” he ordered coldly, pulling the blanket over her and heading for the door. She barely acknowledged the keypad's chirrup as he punched the unlock code and stepped through, the lights dimming moments later.\nAll that was left was to suffer, alone in the dark. Francine new all too well the fire under her tail wouldn't die down quickly, and to so much as put a toe out of bed would be detected and lead, mere minutes later, to yet another callous spanking. Or, she reflected with a cold shudder, something infinitely worse.\nOne paw cupped itself protectively around her feminine mound, as shielding the oft-abused passage from her own intrusive thoughts. Being punished often and harshly was a grim facet of her new life; she'd be punished upon waking tomorrow morning, punished at least once during the day, and then punished again before bed. In between, the slightest slip-up would see yet more punishments piled on top. Spankings were the most common, by hand, paddle or the back of a wooden hairbrush; but there were a seemingly infinite number of other ways her parents could make her life a living hell. Of all of them, her father's favourite was his own cock. The longest she'd gone without being raped was eight days, and that was if she didn't count the times something else was being forced inside of her instead.\nShe was going to have to live like this for another four years. Then, on her ninth birthday, she'd be taken to a rejuvenation chamber and reverted back to age four and start the ordeal over again. And again. For forty cycles. One hundred and sixty years of being beaten, raped, and then left to cry herself to sleep in the dark.\nFor the first two weeks of captivity she had prayed every night to Hakra, the god of her distant homeworld, pleading the deity for mercy. It took that long for her to realise, with sickening clarity, that her prayers would never be answered; she was female now, and thus impure. In His eyes, she deserved everything her parents put her through.\nThe mewing, balling cub longed for an escape from her agony, silently pawing at her pillow and whimpering wordlessly in desperate need for care. Her sister, Isabelle had thawed to her somewhat, but it felt like lifetimes between visits. There had been only one person she'd known to show anything akin to kindness, and that was the old restaurant owner the siblings visited weeks ago.\n“I need to get out of here,” the little cub whimpered, her voice cracking in time with the pulsing pain in her rear. As much as it hurt to be awake, sleep was worse; the things that happened in her dreams were no less cruel than the waking world. Even so, broken and spent as she was, sleep was unavoidable.\nShe dreamed of fire, of waking to find bright, searing flames dancing along the walls of her bedroom. In her dream, Francine bolted for the door, towards the mirrored wall that separated her bedroom from the landing beyond. Her little paw reached for the keypad, but there were no numbers there, only a red X. She banged on the door, shrieking at the top of her lungs as the flames drew closer, and as her fists hammered at their own reflection the mirror became a window. Beyond stood her parents, their grey-scaled muzzles wide with rictus grins, their eyes reflecting the firelight.\nThe girl snapped awake with ghostly laughter still echoing in her mind. The room was dark, with no flames to be seen, but she wasn't going to wait for her nightmares to become reality. A new voice piped up inside her head, the voice of the man she had once been. Francesco Holdenthorpe spoke with stern authority: “Focus! Think! Remember every little detail!”\nFrancine tried her best to obey her own advice. The house was one of brutal routine, but routine for her parents as much as herself. Before she came to bed she'd been made to stand in the corner of the living room. When sent to bed the biscuit tin was on the coffee table, which meant it was movie night. Ross and Avelyn were always more positive towards each other after movie night...\nShe glanced at the curtain-covered window. Dark, obviously, but was there any clue as to the time? Her eyes turned to the glass-wall of her room. It wasn't set to reflective. A flicker of hope sparked in the girl's breast; no lights downstairs, just a hall light above. If she was right, her parents would be too busy fucking each other for once to stop her!\nLeaping from the end of her bed and landing with only a slight stumble, Francine bolted for the door. Her little paw could barely reached the number pad, but thankfully she only needed the middle and lower row of buttons. Punching the code she'd memorised through teary eyes weeks before, she was downstairs before her father's angry calls echoed from above. The next door was trickier, forcing her to waste precious seconds dragging her cornerstool over to the front door's lock and once more punching a stolen code. Clad only in her bare white fur, Francine darted into the amber glow of the street lights. Her raging father's pursuit was hobbled by the cornerstool, the Karrian barking a curse as he tripped and fell at the front step. Francine had no intention of pausing to see how hard he'd stumbled.\nIt was late by her standards, though not by those of any adult. The four year old fox darted along a half-remembered route, heart pounding as her ears burned with the effort of listening for any pursuer. Twice she had a close-call with a random passer-by, once almost colliding on a blind corner and another nearly grabbing her on a straight. Both time she kept running without being chased, until her frantic feet led her at last to the glowing frontage of the restaurant.\nShe hit the door full-force and bounced off, landing painfully on her backside. Her howls of pain quickly turned to desperate words as she punched and beat the glass pane. “Lemme in! Please! Lemme in!”\n“Francine!” her father's roar echoed from behind. She turned in horror to see him running up the street clad in nothing but a dressing gown, red-faced and raging. She closed her eyes and raised her paws to protect herself, only to be suddenly hauled through the now open door, which slammed shut in Ross' face.\n“Hey! Open this door right now!” he barked, his voice slightly muffled.\nFrancine's jaw dropped. Mr Wu had not only brought her inside, he was actively holding the door closed, leaning into it with all his weight as he fought to lock it. “Not a chance! You can stay out there until you calm down!” the girl's heart leaped as the lock clicked into place, and the kindly old Karrian stepped back with a triumphant grin on his face.\n“You can't do this! I'm calling the police!”\n“By all means, but seeing as you're the one trying to trespass I'd suggest you think twice about that!” he turned to flash Francine a warm smile, placing a paw upon her trembling head. “This little lass and I are going to sit down right here and have a chat. You can come in when you've calmed down.”\nRoss chose to stand and scowl in the doorway, his shoulders rising and falling as he fought to control his rage. “Francine is my penitatas daughter. She ran away and I chased her down to here.”\n“I figured that out on my own, thank you. I will let you in on one condition: you sit in the corner and keep quiet until I've had a chance to talk with her. Oh, and kindly conceal that.”\nRoss glanced down at his bare crotch as if only now realising how exposed he was. A subtle reddening formed on his muzzle as he tightened his gown. “May I come in now, please?”\nTo Francine's horror, the door was opened. “Have a seat. Would you like a drink? On the house, of course.”\n“No. Thank you. I would like to take my daughter home.”\nMr Wu nodded. “I know, but I would much rather like to know why a 'runaway' chose to come to me of all people. Wouldn't you?”\nAfter a pause, Ross nodded. Satisfied, Wu gently steered Francine towards a table on the opposite wall and lifted the chairs down. “Have a seat, my dear, and let's have a chat. What brings you here this time of night?”\n“I h-had to... to getawayfromhim!” her words devolved into pained sobbing as an accusatory finger thrust at the waiting parent. “Hesevil! H'safuckin'mnster!”\n“Shh! Easy now! Deep breaths, nice and slow.”\nIt took a long time for the girl to find some composure, but with each new confession she would break down again, leading to another pause of sobbing. “They spank me allatime! Three times a'day a'least! An' he... he does...”\n“He does something much worse than spanking,” Wu said for her. A kindly paw enveloped her own. “Francine, as much as it must feel you have no rights in this place, we do offer one: a right to your past. I think I know who you used to be, and if I'm right then I know at least some of the crimes you committed. But the only thing I know for certain is you're a penitatas. Your father there knows a lot more than I do. Would you mind if I asked him some details about your sentence?”\n“'kay,” the girl whimpered with a nod.\n“Sir, what grade is your daughter?”\n“B-5,” Ross replied. “40x4-8”.\nA grimace flickered across Wu's face. “Yes. I had a feeling it would be something like that.”\n“W-what's that mean?” Francine asked.\nThe kindly shopkeep sighed. “I'm afraid you already know all too well what that means, Francine. The harsh punishments you suffer, including the ones you don't want to talk about, aren't being inflicted upon you because your father is cruel and abusive. It's part of your sentence; the justice system itself wants you treated this way, and if it wasn't your father doing it they'd find someone else. I am so sorry.”\nAll Francine could do was bow her head and wail, tears streaking down her little muzzle in despair at how truly hopeless her situation was. In truth, Mr Wu had told her nothing she didn't already know, but hearing it spoken aloud by another, and one she desperately wished to trust, made it all too real.\n“I'm afraid there's only one thing I can do for you right now, Francine. You won't like it, but it truly is the only help I can offer.” Wu beckoned Ross over with a gentle wave. “I've been around long enough to know a B-5's life is a living hell. She's clearly suffering as it is. Does she have to suffer any more?”\n“Are you suggesting we let an escape attempt go unpunished?”\n“I'm inviting you to consider why a girl in desperate need of some support ran halfway across town to a man she's met precisely once, rather than reaching out to you.”\nRoss clearly caught the veiled insult. “It's not easy to be supportive in her case. You know what's demanded of us.”\n“I do. And I'm well aware many in town say I'm too soft on these little tykes, but just because I like to offer a little mercy doesn't mean I don't accept they need their licks. I think a little mercy tonight will go a long way.”\n“You want 'mercy', Francine?” Ross turned his focus on the wilting little cub. “Then I expect you to earn it. No lip from you on the way home, and if you so much as squirm too much then you'll be getting the full force of my ire. Understand?”\n“Y's,” the timid cub whimpered in reply.\nRoss accepted the blub with a nod. “Okay then. Thank you, Mr Wu. I am sorry you were troubled with this.”\n“It was no trouble, I assure you,” the old man held the door open as Ross lifted Francine onto his shoulder, resting her so he could take her weight with one arm. “I hope to see you soon, little one. Preferably during business hours.”\nHer last sight of Mr Wu was of him smiling and waving. She smiled and waved back, but both had pain in their eyes. Ross carried his daughter home via an alternate route, snaking down a side alley and coming out on an unfamiliar road. “Where-” she began to ask, but Ross was quick to shush her.\n“No talking, cub. You want me to forgive tonight's behaviour, you just keep your muzzle closed and accept what's coming. You'll get it ten times worse if you don't!” he added as she began to sob once more.\nThe journey brought them to a bar, brightly lit with neon signage that read Naughty Little Things. The bouncer, a heavy-set male with dark scale patterns stepped forward to intercept Ross as he approached. “Hold up, sir! We don't allow penitatas in here!”\n“I just need some lube,” Ross replied as he reached out with his paw. The bouncer produced a hand scanner, and after a moment's confirmation he whispered into his microphone. Francine was crying openly when one of the staff emerged with two sachets of lubricant and a small packet of cleaning wipes.\n“You interrupted a pleasant evening, Francine; I hadn't finished with Avelyn, so I think it's only fair I finish with you. There's a little park here that's just perfect.” A minute or two later, Ross had found his spot. He placed Francine on her shaking footpaws and tended to himself, stroking his member to full hardness as he lubricated himself. “I have to admit, you've been a good girl so far. Staying silent, not squirming. I want you to keep silent now, bar crying of course, but I'll welcome a little squirming once you're seated.”\nFrancine's paws balled protectively over her eyes as she was pulled into place, the tiny girl lifted onto her father's lap and lowered onto his waiting cock. She drew a sharp breath as his thick head slid about, streaking lube over her privates in search of her too-small passage. “There we go!” he purred as the tip found its mark, and with both paws on her little hips he pushed Francine down.\nThe kit's head snapped back, maw open in a long, primal howl as she was stretched open by the invading cock. Ross gave her no time at all to settle, falling into a steady rhythm as soon as he was deep enough. His thrusts were not long, but didn't have to be; each little buck of his hips slammed his cock against Francine's cervix, then he would lift her a fraction as he reset and repeated, dragging her down into his rising cock to maximise his own pleasure, and draw more long, tortured howls from his victim.\nWith a drawn-out grunt, Ross emptied himself into the helpless Francine, who blubbed and mewled through the shameful ordeal. He drew himself out with more care than he entered, then hoisted the girl back onto his shoulder. “Home now,” he said softly.\nAvelyn was waiting for their return, but Ross waved away her questions until morning. Francine made no fuss as she was carried back into her room and placed, albeit unsteadily, back onto her own feet. “Go and use the potty. We're tired of changing your sheets.”\nAs much as Francine wished to make a barbed rebuttal, she complied without comment. She was tired, and hurt too much, and was drowning in self-loathing and radiant hatred for the world. Simply breathing took more effort than she could stand.\n“We'll be disabling the inner door lock as well,” Ross added, and that was what finally broke the girl from her zombified state.\n“Nooo!” she wailed, her mental supports collapsing instantly. The frantic wail caught her father completely off-guard. “Idon'wannaburn!”\n“What are you talking about?”\n“Idon'wannaburntodeath!” the little girl wailed, falling to the ground and curling up in a gently rocking ball.\nRoss reached for her, overpowering her pathetic attempt to bat him away and lifted her bodily over to the bed. “Take a breath, cub. What did you mean about 'burning to death'? Is this a nightmare you had?” The little fox merely nodded in reply. “Do you have this nightmare often?”\n“I... have lots of nightmares,” she whimpered after a pause. “Some about fire. Some... about you.”\nRoss glanced to the door, noting his wife stood in the unlit corridor. The grey-scaled male sucked his teeth as he considered his options. “Fine. We won't lock you in this time, but this had best be the last time you slink out or you will be locked in from now on. Now go to sleep.”\n\nThe nightmares were waiting. She dreamed of the public violation, only now her sleeping mind added a crowd of onlookers that mocked her as she howled for mercy. She woke from the phantom rape with a squeal, tears staining the pillow and sweat dampening her sheets. She tentatively touched the clammy sheet and sniffed her fingers. Only sweat, thankfully.\nIt took some time for a parent to emerge. Avelyn crossed the room and gently shook the girl, whose eyes snapped open instantly. “Oh, wide awake already? Come on, use the potty and then straight back to bed. You're staying under the sheets until lunch time.”\nThe sentence was hardly the worst ordeal Francine had faced, but nevertheless unwelcome. She dragged out the act of relieving herself, risking the scoldings and threat of punishment simply because it meant she had a few moments more of company before being sentenced to isolation. At least the bed was warm and, while a little clammy, still comfortable. Breakfast came up minutes later, delivered via a baby bottle. Again, she had learned the hard way how much she could get away with fussing; the shame of being babied was infinitely preferable to a burning backside. Now fed, all that remained was loneliness.\nShe tried to fill the time with mental exercises, repeating key numbers and vital details in order to preserve them in her mind, but even this normally simple task was made more complex by her new body; the outer child, small and terrified, fought to wrestle control of Francine's inner mind and filled her thoughts with random fears and anxieties. When in pain or under intense stress, the child took over; right now, even in relative calm, Francesco was finding it increasingly difficult to be heard.\nA soft humming sound signalled the opening of the bedroom door. Heavy footsteps drew close, until a broad shadow loomed over the balled-up little fox. A timid whimper slipped out as her father settled on the edge of her bed. “I suppose you'd like to visit Mr Wu again?”\nThough she did not stir, the question caught her off-guard. She held her breath, mind racing over the question, turning the words every which way in her mind to figure out where the barbs lay concealed.\nThe subtle pressure of her father's paw came to rest upon her shoulder. “Well, here's our offer: you behave, and take your punishments like a good girl, and we will go out to Mr Wu's for a family meal once per week.”\nStill, Francine did not stir. With a soft sigh, Ross rose from the bed. He cast one last glance at the girl, whose open eyes were deliberately turned down towards her pillow. “Quiet is good, I suppose. Stay in bed, and you can avoid any more spankings today.”\n“Can we go today?” Francine whimpered, still not looking towards her father.\n“We'll see,” Ross answered, taking the time to study the otherwise unresponsive kit. When it was clear there would be no more input, he left her alone.\nAn hour passed, perhaps more; four-year-olds were hardly skilled at measuring how time passed. Days in Northrock certainly seemed to last far longer than they did when he was free. Driven to tears by boredom, it was a relief when the grey-scaled Karrians returned. Avelyn clapped her claws and called out, “come on, out of bed! You're getting a bath!”\nThe announcement lit a spark of hope in the Penny girl's chest, but she dared not utter it aloud. For now, she tried to reign in her expectations, telling herself that her 'mother' simply wanted her daughter clean and not smelling of dried-in sweat. Yet the forced stoicism couldn't hold for long, and a happy little squeak slipped out when she saw Ross stripping the bed.\nAs Francine sank into the warm, soapy water, Avelyn held her muzzle and fixed her with a stern gaze. “We have decided to take you out for lunch, but that means we expect nothing less than perfect behaviour from you. Any slip-up, however slight, and you'll not only be getting your backside thoroughly tanned, but you'll be losing what few privileges you have.”\n“I don't have any privileges,” the girl mumbled as her jaw was released, the scolding having robbed what little pleasure the bath brought her.\n“That's where you're wrong, little lady. You remember Isabelle's inventive little ideas? We're happy to use those ourselves. So unless you want to find out just how much that little bladder of yours can hold, you'd best not put a toe out of line.”\n\nDespite the many warnings, Francine felt a glimmer of excitement return as she was carried through the streets. Held tight to her father's chest, her little head resting on his shoulder, the bare-furred fox tried to keep her dread imagination in line as memories of the previous night began to surface. Avelyn stayed in her field of vision, smirking at her worried little face and gently turning her head back whenever she dared look around. “Now now, you shouldn't be so curious,” the mother Karrian cooed. “Not unless you're willing to pay for it.” The girl grimaced at the threat, her eyes clenching shut and remaining so until she was placed back on her own two footpaws.\nAll the anxiety of the trip melted the moment she confirmed their location. A young female Karrian welcomed them inside, guided them to their table and took a drinks order – just water for Francine, of course. Yet it was the ever-smiling Mr Wu who brought them, and he met Francine with a hearty smile. “Well now, isn't this a lovely surprise! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon!”\n“Hello, Mr Wu,” Francine offered a shy wave in greeting.\n“How are you holding up, little one? Rough night?”\nThe smile died quickly. “Yeah. Rough night.”\nA kindly Karrian claw stroked the fur of her own paw, as if trying to massage away the 'P' mark from her white fur. “Be brave, little one. It does get better, eventually. Now, what can I get you? Ah! Wait! I think I can guess what you want... ashgrow?”\n“You have ash'rko? Really?” The Aspatrian's face was practically glowing at the idea.\n“Indeed I do! Got it in special now that I know there's a few little foxes who might order it. There'll be a bit of a wait for it as I have to prep it special, if that's alright?” the last note was directed at the Hutchins, who were both perplexed as to what was being offered.\n“You've imported food specifically for her?” Avelyn asked.\n“Not just Francine, but... yes. You're free to order what you like, of course, but it's a little easier on my kitchen if we do a big serving – enough for all of you with some to spare. It's quite good, if I do say so myself.”\n“Mom! Dad! Please can I have it?” Both parents were taken aback by their daughter's eagerness, relenting almost immediately. Mr Wu looked overjoyed at their decision, and to help pass the time he had crayons and an activity sheet sent for little Francine. Ross and Avelyn found themselves transfixed by the girl sat opposite them, staring as if they'd never seen her before.\nThe ash'rko arrived in a rectangular glass bowl, perhaps to show off the impressive layering of the meal. It resembled a sandstone formation, with layers of dull orange vegetable broken up by thinner, darker seams, and all topped with a cream-coloured crust that smelled strongly of nuts and fried cheese. Francine's was served in a smaller bowl, though to her parent's eyes it was still far too much for such a small girl. “Tuck in!” Mr Wu announced happily, and Francine obeyed with gusto.\nOnce more her parents were astounded. “I don't think I've ever seen her have such an appetite,” Avelyn confessed.\nWith a note of disapproval, Mr Wu remarked, “the trick to making a child eat lies in what you feed them.” He quickly nodded to the couple and darted to check on another table.\nThe focus of the Hutchins snapped back to Francine as a soft whimper came from her maw. For a moment they wondered if she'd burned her mouth, but then her sob became a single, stuttering laugh. “I take it you like your meal?” Ross asked as he forked a morsel from his own bowl. The overwhelmed little lass could only nod eagerly, quickly giving up on trying to articulate her feelings and instead filling her maw with more food.\nBoth adults sampled the meal and considered the flavours. Earthy, nutty, and with a hint of meatiness from the inner layers. Unusual to a Karrian palette, but pleasant all the same. Yet the ravenous hunger of their daughter remained the most remarkable part of the meal; Francine completely cleaned her plate, and it was only after scraping out and swallowing the last morsel did she seem to register how much she'd consumed, leaning back in her chair and letting out a soft moan as her paws moved to cradle a stuffed, bloated stomach.\nHer self-inflicted suffering was met by an amused snort from her mother. “My oh my! How do I get you to eat like that at home, cub?”\n“By not feeding me Healthy Choice food!” Francine moaned, hiding her mouth as a burp rumbled out. “If I'd known I'd have to-”\n“What?” Ross pressed, noting how her expression had so swiftly changed from sleepy to alarmed. “You're not going to be sick, are you?”\n“M-maybe!” Francine whimpered, earning her rolling eyes and disapproving shakes of the head.\n“A bit of fresh air and a gentle walk will settle your tum-tum. Come along.”\n\nHer father's wisdom paid off, though it seemed touch and go for the first few minutes. Both parents kept tight hold of a paw each as they trotted their little charge out towards the ocean, caring little how the strong sea air made her shiver and whimper with each harsh gust. Francine was steered to a metal rail along the top of the sea wall. Below her was a beach, and to her left a long pier that jutted out into the grey ocean. Rejuves, most in their teens, played in the shadow of that pier in a manner that told Francine they were surely not penitatas themselves.\n“What was that you were saying before, cub?” Ross asked softly, seemingly content to watch the youths play.\n“Nothing. Doesn't matter.” Francine shuddered as her father's claw stroked along the back of her skull.\n“A Penny of your grade can be put through an awful lot,” he said as his claws drew little circles in her fur. “For example, we could take you down to those boys and hand you over, give them permission to use and abuse you however they see fit. When we explain to them the crimes you committed, I'm certain they'd be happy to oblige.”\nTo neither parent's surprise, Francine began to whimper, with dark streaks rolling down each cheek as she silently blubbed at the prospect. “I was... t-trying to make a joke.”\n“A joke?” Ross' fingers halted their motions.\n“Y-yeah. Like... If I'd known you'd make me eat Healthy Choice I'd n-never have b-broken the law!”\nThe claw moved from her skull to the shoulder, patting twice before withdrawing. “I'd like less humour and more contrition from you, alright?” Francine nodded urgently in agreement. “Good. Now, can I carry you home without incident?”\nAnother nod, and Francine was back in her father's arms, watching the sea disappear as they wound their way back home. As before, Francine kept her eyes fixed on her mother, whose smile brought little comfort. The little white fox could only imagine what tortures were being dreamed up behind those reptilian eyes.\n“How much would a change in diet be worth to you, Francine?” Avelyn asked as they strolled. “What would you be willing to accept in exchange for tastier meals?”\n“W-what are you planning?” she whimpered in response.\nHer mother's chuckle had all the warmth and comfort of an axe being sharpened. “I was thinking we might trade. If we make what we put in nicer, we make what comes out a little worse. Dear? Set our cub down by the drain there.”\nWhimpering in fear, Francine was perched over a roadside drain, her legs gently pried apart with slow, yet firm shoves of a father's boot. Avelyn drew a thin red case from her pocket, popping the lid to reveal the nettle brush Isabelle had used on her first visit. “I've been eager to try one of these out myself. I was honestly hoping you'd kick up a fuss so I'd have an excuse! But I think a little demonstration is in order. Take her weight, dear. She's likely to squirm.”\n“Noo!” Francine wailed as Ross gripped her tight. Avelyn knelt down and forced one leg up into the air to expose the Aspatrian's privates.\n“Just a few strokes, I promise. One... two... three...”\nFrancine howled as hot needles of pain lanced through her privates, thrashing in the inescapable grip of her father. Her sole mercy was that, as promised, it was only a few stinging touches. “That sting means it's time to tinkle, dear! Be a good girl and wet yourself!”\n“She obviously needs a few more,” Ross chuckled. Francine howled at the cruel words, sobbing openly as the nettle-like sting erupted across her labia once more. She frantically pressed down and forced herself to pee, prompting a little gasp of surprise as Avelyn barely got her brush and claw out of the way in time.\n“That's it, good cub,” Avelyn cooed. The brush returned to its box. “So that's the deal, okay? If you want more say in what you eat, then you only go potty when it stings down there. An itchy front means tinkle time, and itchy rear means poopies.”\n“And if you think having an accident will get you out of it, think again!” Ross added. “We'll just keep using the brush until you go on time.”\n“Nonononono!” the cub wailed in panic. “Ican'thelpaccidents!”\n“Well you will just have to learn. I'll fill that naughty bottom with a nice, spicy enema and you can lie in bed for a few hours, thinking about your options. You have until dinner time to choose; nice food and stinging bits, or nasty food and slightly less sore parts.”\nHome was just around the corner, so the girl was made to walk the rest of the way. Sobbing and squirming all the while, the inner voice of Francesco rose once more. “You can turn this to your advantage. Grow a fucking pair and make the play!”\nWith another sob, Francine stopped walking. Small and light as she was the act made no difference to her parents, but they both noted the stumble and stopped. Yet before either could scold, the girl looked up at Avelyn and blurted out. “What do you want me to pick?”\n“What do you mean?”\n“T-the choice you gave me. B-between nasty food or... or nettles for toilet time... what do you want me to pick?”\nPuzzled looks were exchanged between parents, who both shrugged. “Well, I would certainly enjoy making your little bits sting every day,” Avelyn laughed.\n“O-okay! Then... then that's what I want. P-please! Please st-ting my n-n-naughty bits when I p-potty!”\nFrancine recognised the look of pleasure on her parent's faces – she'd worn it herself countless times as Francesco. “Could it be we're making progress with our little cub?” Ross asked with a smirk.\n“Ask me again in a few days,” Avelyn chortled as she waved the nettle-brush box in front of Francine. “Time will tell just how eager she is to win our approval.”\nThe little fox bowed her head, trying hard not to cry in the face of the days of suffering her choice had earned her. “Play the long game,” she whispered to herself, and meekly offered her paws to be led to whatever punishment home had in store for her.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Little Francine's world was focused entirely on the hot lashings of pain coursing through her backside, delivered by the fierce, rapid strokes of a cane. Her father's swings were brutal, each leaving a deep red welt that edged with yellow and purple of deeper bruisings, and despite the rejuve occupying the body of a four year old fox girl, the much larger, stronger reptile was pulling no punches. The Aspatrian's helpless howls echoed off the bare walls of her spartan bed-chamber, finding no sympathetic ears at all.
The twentieth cane stroke fell, leaving the naked, white-furred girl howling and sobbing. The instant it was done, Ross lifted the girl from his lap and placed her onto the bed, shuffling the flinching, howling little thing until her head rested upon the pillow. “Go to sleep now,” he ordered coldly, pulling the blanket over her and heading for the door. She barely acknowledged the keypad's chirrup as he punched the unlock code and stepped through, the lights dimming moments later.
All that was left was to suffer, alone in the dark. Francine new all too well the fire under her tail wouldn't die down quickly, and to so much as put a toe out of bed would be detected and lead, mere minutes later, to yet another callous spanking. Or, she reflected with a cold shudder, something infinitely worse.
One paw cupped itself protectively around her feminine mound, as shielding the oft-abused passage from her own intrusive thoughts. Being punished often and harshly was a grim facet of her new life; she'd be punished upon waking tomorrow morning, punished at least once during the day, and then punished again before bed. In between, the slightest slip-up would see yet more punishments piled on top. Spankings were the most common, by hand, paddle or the back of a wooden hairbrush; but there were a seemingly infinite number of other ways her parents could make her life a living hell. Of all of them, her father's favourite was his own cock. The longest she'd gone without being raped was eight days, and that was if she didn't count the times something else was being forced inside of her instead.
She was going to have to live like this for another four years. Then, on her ninth birthday, she'd be taken to a rejuvenation chamber and reverted back to age four and start the ordeal over again. And again. For forty cycles. One hundred and sixty years of being beaten, raped, and then left to cry herself to sleep in the dark.
For the first two weeks of captivity she had prayed every night to Hakra, the god of her distant homeworld, pleading the deity for mercy. It took that long for her to realise, with sickening clarity, that her prayers would never be answered; she was female now, and thus impure. In His eyes, she deserved everything her parents put her through.
The mewing, balling cub longed for an escape from her agony, silently pawing at her pillow and whimpering wordlessly in desperate need for care. Her sister, Isabelle had thawed to her somewhat, but it felt like lifetimes between visits. There had been only one person she'd known to show anything akin to kindness, and that was the old restaurant owner the siblings visited weeks ago.
“I need to get out of here,” the little cub whimpered, her voice cracking in time with the pulsing pain in her rear. As much as it hurt to be awake, sleep was worse; the things that happened in her dreams were no less cruel than the waking world. Even so, broken and spent as she was, sleep was unavoidable.
She dreamed of fire, of waking to find bright, searing flames dancing along the walls of her bedroom. In her dream, Francine bolted for the door, towards the mirrored wall that separated her bedroom from the landing beyond. Her little paw reached for the keypad, but there were no numbers there, only a red X. She banged on the door, shrieking at the top of her lungs as the flames drew closer, and as her fists hammered at their own reflection the mirror became a window. Beyond stood her parents, their grey-scaled muzzles wide with rictus grins, their eyes reflecting the firelight.
The girl snapped awake with ghostly laughter still echoing in her mind. The room was dark, with no flames to be seen, but she wasn't going to wait for her nightmares to become reality. A new voice piped up inside her head, the voice of the man she had once been. Francesco Holdenthorpe spoke with stern authority: “Focus! Think! Remember every little detail!”
Francine tried her best to obey her own advice. The house was one of brutal routine, but routine for her parents as much as herself. Before she came to bed she'd been made to stand in the corner of the living room. When sent to bed the biscuit tin was on the coffee table, which meant it was movie night. Ross and Avelyn were always more positive towards each other after movie night...
She glanced at the curtain-covered window. Dark, obviously, but was there any clue as to the time? Her eyes turned to the glass-wall of her room. It wasn't set to reflective. A flicker of hope sparked in the girl's breast; no lights downstairs, just a hall light above. If she was right, her parents would be too busy fucking each other for once to stop her!
Leaping from the end of her bed and landing with only a slight stumble, Francine bolted for the door. Her little paw could barely reached the number pad, but thankfully she only needed the middle and lower row of buttons. Punching the code she'd memorised through teary eyes weeks before, she was downstairs before her father's angry calls echoed from above. The next door was trickier, forcing her to waste precious seconds dragging her cornerstool over to the front door's lock and once more punching a stolen code. Clad only in her bare white fur, Francine darted into the amber glow of the street lights. Her raging father's pursuit was hobbled by the cornerstool, the Karrian barking a curse as he tripped and fell at the front step. Francine had no intention of pausing to see how hard he'd stumbled.
It was late by her standards, though not by those of any adult. The four year old fox darted along a half-remembered route, heart pounding as her ears burned with the effort of listening for any pursuer. Twice she had a close-call with a random passer-by, once almost colliding on a blind corner and another nearly grabbing her on a straight. Both time she kept running without being chased, until her frantic feet led her at last to the glowing frontage of the restaurant.
She hit the door full-force and bounced off, landing painfully on her backside. Her howls of pain quickly turned to desperate words as she punched and beat the glass pane. “Lemme in! Please! Lemme in!”
“Francine!” her father's roar echoed from behind. She turned in horror to see him running up the street clad in nothing but a dressing gown, red-faced and raging. She closed her eyes and raised her paws to protect herself, only to be suddenly hauled through the now open door, which slammed shut in Ross' face.
“Hey! Open this door right now!” he barked, his voice slightly muffled.
Francine's jaw dropped. Mr Wu had not only brought her inside, he was actively holding the door closed, leaning into it with all his weight as he fought to lock it. “Not a chance! You can stay out there until you calm down!” the girl's heart leaped as the lock clicked into place, and the kindly old Karrian stepped back with a triumphant grin on his face.
“You can't do this! I'm calling the police!”
“By all means, but seeing as you're the one trying to trespass I'd suggest you think twice about that!” he turned to flash Francine a warm smile, placing a paw upon her trembling head. “This little lass and I are going to sit down right here and have a chat. You can come in when you've calmed down.”
Ross chose to stand and scowl in the doorway, his shoulders rising and falling as he fought to control his rage. “Francine is my penitatas daughter. She ran away and I chased her down to here.”
“I figured that out on my own, thank you. I will let you in on one condition: you sit in the corner and keep quiet until I've had a chance to talk with her. Oh, and kindly conceal that.”
Ross glanced down at his bare crotch as if only now realising how exposed he was. A subtle reddening formed on his muzzle as he tightened his gown. “May I come in now, please?”
To Francine's horror, the door was opened. “Have a seat. Would you like a drink? On the house, of course.”
“No. Thank you. I would like to take my daughter home.”
Mr Wu nodded. “I know, but I would much rather like to know why a 'runaway' chose to come to me of all people. Wouldn't you?”
After a pause, Ross nodded. Satisfied, Wu gently steered Francine towards a table on the opposite wall and lifted the chairs down. “Have a seat, my dear, and let's have a chat. What brings you here this time of night?”
“I h-had to... to getawayfromhim!” her words devolved into pained sobbing as an accusatory finger thrust at the waiting parent. “Hesevil! H'safuckin'mnster!”
“Shh! Easy now! Deep breaths, nice and slow.”
It took a long time for the girl to find some composure, but with each new confession she would break down again, leading to another pause of sobbing. “They spank me allatime! Three times a'day a'least! An' he... he does...”
“He does something much worse than spanking,” Wu said for her. A kindly paw enveloped her own. “Francine, as much as it must feel you have no rights in this place, we do offer one: a right to your past. I think I know who you used to be, and if I'm right then I know at least some of the crimes you committed. But the only thing I know for certain is you're a penitatas. Your father there knows a lot more than I do. Would you mind if I asked him some details about your sentence?”
“'kay,” the girl whimpered with a nod.
“Sir, what grade is your daughter?”
“B-5,” Ross replied. “40x4-8”.
A grimace flickered across Wu's face. “Yes. I had a feeling it would be something like that.”
“W-what's that mean?” Francine asked.
The kindly shopkeep sighed. “I'm afraid you already know all too well what that means, Francine. The harsh punishments you suffer, including the ones you don't want to talk about, aren't being inflicted upon you because your father is cruel and abusive. It's part of your sentence; the justice system itself wants you treated this way, and if it wasn't your father doing it they'd find someone else. I am so sorry.”
All Francine could do was bow her head and wail, tears streaking down her little muzzle in despair at how truly hopeless her situation was. In truth, Mr Wu had told her nothing she didn't already know, but hearing it spoken aloud by another, and one she desperately wished to trust, made it all too real.
“I'm afraid there's only one thing I can do for you right now, Francine. You won't like it, but it truly is the only help I can offer.” Wu beckoned Ross over with a gentle wave. “I've been around long enough to know a B-5's life is a living hell. She's clearly suffering as it is. Does she have to suffer any more?”
“Are you suggesting we let an escape attempt go unpunished?”
“I'm inviting you to consider why a girl in desperate need of some support ran halfway across town to a man she's met precisely once, rather than reaching out to you.”
Ross clearly caught the veiled insult. “It's not easy to be supportive in her case. You know what's demanded of us.”
“I do. And I'm well aware many in town say I'm too soft on these little tykes, but just because I like to offer a little mercy doesn't mean I don't accept they need their licks. I think a little mercy tonight will go a long way.”
“You want 'mercy', Francine?” Ross turned his focus on the wilting little cub. “Then I expect you to earn it. No lip from you on the way home, and if you so much as squirm too much then you'll be getting the full force of my ire. Understand?”
“Y's,” the timid cub whimpered in reply.
Ross accepted the blub with a nod. “Okay then. Thank you, Mr Wu. I am sorry you were troubled with this.”
“It was no trouble, I assure you,” the old man held the door open as Ross lifted Francine onto his shoulder, resting her so he could take her weight with one arm. “I hope to see you soon, little one. Preferably during business hours.”
Her last sight of Mr Wu was of him smiling and waving. She smiled and waved back, but both had pain in  their eyes. Ross carried his daughter home via an alternate route, snaking down a side alley and coming out on an unfamiliar road. “Where-” she began to ask, but Ross was quick to shush her.
“No talking, cub. You want me to forgive tonight's behaviour, you just keep your muzzle closed and accept what's coming. You'll get it ten times worse if you don't!” he added as she began to sob once more.
The journey brought them to a bar, brightly lit with neon signage that read Naughty Little Things. The bouncer, a heavy-set male with dark scale patterns stepped forward to intercept Ross as he approached. “Hold up, sir! We don't allow penitatas in here!”
“I just need some lube,” Ross replied as he reached out with his paw. The bouncer produced a hand scanner, and after a moment's confirmation he whispered into his microphone. Francine was crying openly when one of the staff emerged with two sachets of lubricant and a small packet of cleaning wipes.
“You interrupted a pleasant evening, Francine; I hadn't finished with Avelyn, so I think it's only fair I finish with you. There's a little park here that's just perfect.” A minute or two later, Ross had found his spot. He placed Francine on her shaking footpaws and tended to himself, stroking his member to full hardness as he lubricated himself. “I have to admit, you've been a good girl so far. Staying silent, not squirming. I want you to keep silent now, bar crying of course, but I'll welcome a little squirming once you're seated.”
Francine's paws balled protectively over her eyes as she was pulled into place, the tiny girl lifted onto her father's lap and lowered onto his waiting cock. She drew a sharp breath as his thick head slid about, streaking lube over her privates in search of her too-small passage. “There we go!” he purred as the tip found its mark, and with both paws on her little hips he pushed Francine down.
The kit's head snapped back, maw open in a long, primal howl as she was stretched open by the invading cock. Ross gave her no time at all to settle, falling into a steady rhythm as soon as he was deep enough. His thrusts were not long, but didn't have to be; each little buck of his hips slammed his cock against Francine's cervix, then he would lift her a fraction as he reset and repeated, dragging her down into his rising cock to maximise his own pleasure, and draw more long, tortured howls from his victim.
With a drawn-out grunt, Ross emptied himself into the helpless Francine, who blubbed and mewled through the shameful ordeal. He drew himself out with more care than he entered, then hoisted the girl back onto his shoulder. “Home now,” he said softly.
Avelyn was waiting for their return, but Ross waved away her questions until morning. Francine made no fuss as she was carried back into her room and placed, albeit unsteadily, back onto her own feet. “Go and use the potty. We're tired of changing your sheets.”
As much as Francine wished to make a barbed rebuttal, she complied without comment. She was tired, and hurt too much, and was drowning in self-loathing and radiant hatred for the world. Simply breathing took more effort than she could stand.
“We'll be disabling the inner door lock as well,” Ross added, and that was what finally broke the girl from her zombified state.
“Nooo!” she wailed, her mental supports collapsing instantly. The frantic wail caught her father completely off-guard. “Idon'wannaburn!”
“What are you talking about?”
“Idon'wannaburntodeath!” the little girl wailed, falling to the ground and curling up in a gently rocking ball.
Ross reached for her, overpowering her pathetic attempt to bat him away and lifted her bodily over to the bed. “Take a breath, cub. What did you mean about 'burning to death'? Is this a nightmare you had?” The little fox merely nodded in reply. “Do you have this nightmare often?”
“I... have lots of nightmares,” she whimpered after a pause. “Some about fire. Some... about you.”
Ross glanced to the door, noting his wife stood in the unlit corridor. The grey-scaled male sucked his teeth as he considered his options. “Fine. We won't lock you in this time, but this had best be the last time you slink out or you will be locked in from now on. Now go to sleep.”

The nightmares were waiting. She dreamed of the public violation, only now her sleeping mind added a crowd of onlookers that mocked her as she howled for mercy. She woke from the phantom rape with a squeal, tears staining the pillow and sweat dampening her sheets. She tentatively touched the clammy sheet and sniffed her fingers. Only sweat, thankfully.
It took some time for a parent to emerge. Avelyn crossed the room and gently shook the girl, whose eyes snapped open instantly. “Oh, wide awake already? Come on, use the potty and then straight back to bed. You're staying under the sheets until lunch time.”
The sentence was hardly the worst ordeal Francine had faced, but nevertheless unwelcome. She dragged out the act of relieving herself, risking the scoldings and threat of punishment simply because it meant she had a few moments more of company before being sentenced to isolation. At least the bed was warm and, while a little clammy, still comfortable. Breakfast came up minutes later, delivered via a baby bottle. Again, she had learned the hard way how much she could get away with fussing; the shame of being babied was infinitely preferable to a burning backside. Now fed, all that remained was loneliness.
She tried to fill the time with mental exercises, repeating key numbers and vital details in order to preserve them in her mind, but even this normally simple task was made more complex by her new body; the outer child, small and terrified, fought to wrestle control of Francine's inner mind and filled her thoughts with random fears and anxieties. When in pain or under intense stress, the child took over; right now, even in relative calm, Francesco was finding it increasingly difficult to be heard.
A soft humming sound signalled the opening of the bedroom door. Heavy footsteps drew close, until a broad shadow loomed over the balled-up little fox. A timid whimper slipped out as her father settled on the edge of her bed. “I suppose you'd like to visit Mr Wu again?”
Though she did not stir, the question caught her off-guard. She held her breath, mind racing over the question, turning the words every which way in her mind to figure out where the barbs lay concealed.
The subtle pressure of her father's paw came to rest upon her shoulder. “Well, here's our offer: you behave, and take your punishments like a good girl, and we will go out to Mr Wu's for a family meal once per week.”
Still, Francine did not stir. With a soft sigh, Ross rose from the bed. He cast one last glance at the girl, whose open eyes were deliberately turned down towards her pillow. “Quiet is good, I suppose. Stay in bed, and you can avoid any more spankings today.”
“Can we go today?” Francine whimpered, still not looking towards her father.
“We'll see,” Ross answered, taking the time to study the otherwise unresponsive kit. When it was clear there would be no more input, he left her alone.
An hour passed, perhaps more; four-year-olds were hardly skilled at measuring how time passed. Days in Northrock certainly seemed to last far longer than they did when he was free. Driven to tears by boredom, it was a relief when the grey-scaled Karrians returned. Avelyn clapped her claws and called out, “come on, out of bed! You're getting a bath!”
The announcement lit a spark of hope in the Penny girl's chest, but she dared not utter it aloud. For now, she tried to reign in her expectations, telling herself that her 'mother' simply wanted her daughter clean and not smelling of dried-in sweat. Yet the forced stoicism couldn't hold for long, and a happy little squeak slipped out when she saw Ross stripping the bed.
As Francine sank into the warm, soapy water, Avelyn held her muzzle and fixed her with a stern gaze. “We have decided to take you out for lunch, but that means we expect nothing less than perfect behaviour from you. Any slip-up, however slight, and you'll not only be getting your backside thoroughly tanned, but you'll be losing what few privileges you have.”
“I don't have any privileges,” the girl mumbled as her jaw was released, the scolding having robbed what little pleasure the bath brought her.
“That's where you're wrong, little lady. You remember Isabelle's inventive little ideas? We're happy to use those ourselves. So unless you want to find out just how much that little bladder of yours can hold, you'd best not put a toe out of line.”

Despite the many warnings, Francine felt a glimmer of excitement return as she was carried through the streets. Held tight to her father's chest, her little head resting on his shoulder, the bare-furred fox tried to keep her dread imagination in line as memories of the previous night began to surface. Avelyn stayed in her field of vision, smirking at her worried little face and gently turning her head back whenever she dared look around. “Now now, you shouldn't be so curious,” the mother Karrian cooed. “Not unless you're willing to pay for it.” The girl grimaced at the threat, her eyes clenching shut and remaining so until she was placed back on her own two footpaws.
All the anxiety of the trip melted the moment she confirmed their location. A young female Karrian welcomed them inside, guided them to their table and took a drinks order – just water for Francine, of course. Yet it was the ever-smiling Mr Wu who brought them, and he met Francine with a hearty smile. “Well now, isn't this a lovely surprise! I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon!”
“Hello, Mr Wu,” Francine offered a shy wave in greeting.
“How are you holding up, little one? Rough night?”
The smile died quickly. “Yeah. Rough night.”
A kindly Karrian claw stroked the fur of her own paw, as if trying to massage away the 'P' mark from her white fur. “Be brave, little one. It does get better, eventually. Now, what can I get you? Ah! Wait! I think I can guess what you want... ashgrow?”
“You have ash'rko? Really?” The Aspatrian's face was practically glowing at the idea.
“Indeed I do! Got it in special now that I know there's a few little foxes who might order it. There'll be a bit of a wait for it as I have to prep it special, if that's alright?” the last note was directed at the Hutchins, who were both perplexed as to what was being offered.
“You've imported food specifically for her?” Avelyn asked.
“Not just Francine, but... yes. You're free to order what you like, of course, but it's a little easier on my kitchen if we do a big serving – enough for all of you with some to spare. It's quite good, if I do say so myself.”
“Mom! Dad! Please can I have it?” Both parents were taken aback by their daughter's eagerness, relenting almost immediately. Mr Wu looked overjoyed at their decision, and to help pass the time he had crayons and an activity sheet sent for little Francine. Ross and Avelyn found themselves transfixed by the girl sat opposite them, staring as if they'd never seen her before.
The ash'rko arrived in a rectangular glass bowl, perhaps to show off the impressive layering of the meal. It resembled a sandstone formation, with layers of dull orange vegetable broken up by thinner, darker seams, and all topped with a cream-coloured crust that smelled strongly of nuts and fried cheese. Francine's was served in a smaller bowl, though to her parent's eyes it was still far too much for such a small girl. “Tuck in!” Mr Wu announced happily, and Francine obeyed with gusto.
Once more her parents were astounded. “I don't think I've ever seen her have such an appetite,” Avelyn confessed.
With a note of disapproval, Mr Wu remarked, “the trick to making a child eat lies in what you feed them.” He quickly nodded to the couple and darted to check on another table.
The focus of the Hutchins snapped back to Francine as a soft whimper came from her maw. For a moment they wondered if she'd burned her mouth, but then her sob became a single, stuttering laugh. “I take it you like your meal?” Ross asked as he forked a morsel from his own bowl. The overwhelmed little lass could only nod eagerly, quickly giving up on trying to articulate her feelings and instead filling her maw with more food.
Both adults sampled the meal and considered the flavours. Earthy, nutty, and with a hint of meatiness from the inner layers. Unusual to a Karrian palette, but pleasant all the same. Yet the ravenous hunger of their daughter remained the most remarkable part of the meal; Francine completely cleaned her plate, and it was only after scraping out and swallowing the last morsel did she seem to register how much she'd consumed, leaning back in her chair and letting out a soft moan as her paws moved to cradle a stuffed, bloated stomach.
Her self-inflicted suffering was met by an amused snort from her mother. “My oh my! How do I get you to eat like that at home, cub?”
“By not feeding me Healthy Choice food!” Francine moaned, hiding her mouth as a burp rumbled out. “If I'd known I'd have to-”
“What?” Ross pressed, noting how her expression had so swiftly changed from sleepy to alarmed. “You're not going to be sick, are you?”
“M-maybe!” Francine whimpered, earning her rolling eyes and disapproving shakes of the head.
“A bit of fresh air and a gentle walk will settle your tum-tum. Come along.”

Her father's wisdom paid off, though it seemed touch and go for the first few minutes. Both parents kept tight hold of a paw each as they trotted their little charge out towards the ocean, caring little how the strong sea air made her shiver and whimper with each harsh gust. Francine was steered to a metal rail along the top of the sea wall. Below her was a beach, and to her left a long pier that jutted out into the grey ocean. Rejuves, most in their teens, played in the shadow of that pier in a manner that told Francine they were surely not penitatas themselves.
“What was that you were saying before, cub?” Ross asked softly, seemingly content to watch the youths play.
“Nothing. Doesn't matter.” Francine shuddered as her father's claw stroked along the back of her skull.
“A Penny of your grade can be put through an awful lot,” he said as his claws drew little circles in her fur. “For example, we could take you down to those boys and hand you over, give them permission to use and abuse you however they see fit. When we explain to them the crimes you committed, I'm certain they'd be happy to oblige.”
To neither parent's surprise, Francine began to whimper, with dark streaks rolling down each cheek as she silently blubbed at the prospect. “I was... t-trying to make a joke.”
“A joke?” Ross' fingers halted their motions.
“Y-yeah. Like... If I'd known you'd make me eat Healthy Choice I'd n-never have b-broken the law!”
The claw moved from her skull to the shoulder, patting twice before withdrawing. “I'd like less humour and more contrition from you, alright?” Francine nodded urgently in agreement. “Good. Now, can I carry you home without incident?”
Another nod, and Francine was back in her father's arms, watching the sea disappear as they wound their way back home. As before, Francine kept her eyes fixed on her mother, whose smile brought little comfort. The little white fox could only imagine what tortures were being dreamed up behind those reptilian eyes.
“How much would a change in diet be worth to you, Francine?” Avelyn asked as they strolled. “What would you be willing to accept in exchange for tastier meals?”
“W-what are you planning?” she whimpered in response.
Her mother's chuckle had all the warmth and comfort of an axe being sharpened. “I was thinking we might trade. If we make what we put in nicer, we make what comes out a little worse. Dear? Set our cub down by the drain there.”
Whimpering in fear, Francine was perched over a roadside drain, her legs gently pried apart with slow, yet firm shoves of a father's boot. Avelyn drew a thin red case from her pocket, popping the lid to reveal the nettle brush Isabelle had used on her first visit. “I've been eager to try one of these out myself. I was honestly hoping you'd kick up a fuss so I'd have an excuse! But I think a little demonstration is in order. Take her weight, dear. She's likely to squirm.”
“Noo!” Francine wailed as Ross gripped her tight. Avelyn knelt down and forced one leg up into the air to expose the Aspatrian's privates.
“Just a few strokes, I promise. One... two... three...”
Francine howled as hot needles of pain lanced through her privates, thrashing in the inescapable grip of her father. Her sole mercy was that, as promised, it was only a few stinging touches. “That sting means it's time to tinkle, dear! Be a good girl and wet yourself!”
“She obviously needs a few more,” Ross chuckled. Francine howled at the cruel words, sobbing openly as the nettle-like sting erupted across her labia once more. She frantically pressed down and forced herself to pee, prompting a little gasp of surprise as Avelyn barely got her brush and claw out of the way in time.
“That's it, good cub,” Avelyn cooed. The brush returned to its box. “So that's the deal, okay? If you want more say in what you eat, then you only go potty when it stings down there. An itchy front means tinkle time, and itchy rear means poopies.”
“And if you think having an accident will get you out of it, think again!” Ross added. “We'll just keep using the brush until you go on time.”
“Nonononono!” the cub wailed in panic. “Ican'thelpaccidents!”
“Well you will just have to learn. I'll fill that naughty bottom with a nice, spicy enema and you can lie in bed for a few hours, thinking about your options. You have until dinner time to choose; nice food and stinging bits, or nasty food and slightly less sore parts.”
Home was just around the corner, so the girl was made to walk the rest of the way. Sobbing and squirming all the while, the inner voice of Francesco rose once more. “You can turn this to your advantage. Grow a fucking pair and make the play!”
With another sob, Francine stopped walking. Small and light as she was the act made no difference to her parents, but they both noted the stumble and stopped. Yet before either could scold, the girl looked up at Avelyn and blurted out. “What do you want me to pick?”
“What do you mean?”
“T-the choice you gave me. B-between nasty food or... or nettles for toilet time... what do you want me to pick?”
Puzzled looks were exchanged between parents, who both shrugged. “Well, I would certainly enjoy making your little bits sting every day,” Avelyn laughed.
“O-okay! Then... then that's what I want. P-please! Please st-ting my n-n-naughty bits when I p-potty!”
Francine recognised the look of pleasure on her parent's faces – she'd worn it herself countless times as Francesco. “Could it be we're making progress with our little cub?” Ross asked with a smirk.
“Ask me again in a few days,” Avelyn chortled as she waved the nettle-brush box in front of Francine. “Time will tell just how eager she is to win our approval.”
The little fox bowed her head, trying hard not to cry in the face of the days of suffering her choice had earned her. “Play the long game,” she whispered to herself, and meekly offered her paws to be led to whatever punishment home had in store for her.", "pools_count": 1, "title": "Holdenthorpes - Chapter 3", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "text/rtf", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "12", "type_name": "Writing - Document", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "274" }