All-Guys August 3/4 - Initiation (Patreon)

"So why do they call him Godmaw?"

"Ronnie? Oh, well. S'cause he's been in a lotta fights, so he's got scars a'plenty. He keeps his shirt open so you can see the scars from his biggest fight. Fight with god."

The smaller lion looks at the boss, a lean maneless cat slumped in a high-backed chair with a severe look.

"They look like top surgery scars."

"'Xactly. Nobody puts him in the wrong kinda bod without him puttin' up a fight."

"Geez." Jackie - small, scruffy-maned, still green to the business - is breathless. The warehouse smells of wet and dust but in here there's a smoky mahogany scent. Cigars, whiskey, sweat, powdery cologne.

"Jackie Du'Lone?" Ronnie Godmaw's voice is honeyed and light but firm. "Y'applyin' to be the new numbers guy, correct?"

"Yes." The panther elbows Jackie in the ribs. "Yessir."

"Paperwork checks out. Good ref'rences. I knew ya brother before he went off to med school  outta state. Good kid." The boss takes a drag. "Got me my T when the docs wouldn't give it to me. So if he can vouch for ya, I trust his judgement. You seem bright enough, good grades, even if y'brother says you're a kissass sometimes."

Jackie bristles, but under the eyes of the panther and the lion boss, he straightens up.

"Thank you, sir."

Chuffing, Ronnie shifts in his seat. "Y'think the kid's ready for initiation?"

"Think so."

"Initiation?"

Looking around, Jackie sees the boss raise his legs and swing both feet onto the desk. His heart skips - the paws are so soft, perfectly robust but elegant like a dancer's. His paw-pads look like high-quality leather, the cushions of an expensive car, flexing and beckoning.

Jackie laughs anxiously. Nodding, the boss indicates his raised paws.

"Here's the deal, boy. If y'can make me laugh or move my feet off th'desk, you're in. Y'have ten minutes."

Seriously?!

"And... and if I can't..."

The panther chimes in. "Then you'll spend two hours in the stocks, and THEN you're in."

Huffing, Ronnie smirks. "And my guys are real mean with their claws. A twink like you would get tickled to shreds."

"U-uh-" Jackie looks between the two other cats and nods, gulping. "S-sure. I'm ready."

"Alright. Give it yer best shot, kid. Yer ten minutes start now."

Inhaling, Jackie crouches down, brain shifting into attack mode as he considers his approach. He could focus the toes and work down, go with a pattern, mirror his movements on both feet or go the opposite to keep him guessing-

Or he could just dive in. The boss's feet are luxurious, softer than any velvet. His claws test the water and soon become lost in the gorgeous golden plains of his new boss's fuzzy feet. Almost inaudible, the boss inhales sharply.

He needs to attack smarter.

Slow circles turn into faster scribbling but Ronnie isn't even cracking a grin. His scar-streaked gaze is stony and unwavering.

"Pick up the pace, kid," murmurs the panther. "You'll be in the stocks if y'keep staring at 'em."

He heeds the advice and moves his other hand to join its twin, lacing his fingers into the boss's toes and toying with the stems. This time he sees Godmaw flinch. Great.

Minute six rolls around and no dice - some huffs and twitches but if Godmaw's feeling it, he's not really letting on. Jackie could've sworn that he could tickle those feet for hours but he's running out of ideas already - it's not that he isn't having fun, but he's not making any headway.

Come on, what could he...?

An idea comes. It's risky, but it's something.

Opening his mouth, he tentatively sticks out his tongue and licks Ronnie's sole.

This time he hears an audible bump as the chair moves, Ronnie jumping in surprise. The panther snorts hard, rocking on his heels as Jackie's tongue steadily laves up in a long, careful lick.

"Well, that's one way to do it."

Ronnie's eyebrow visibly twitches. Breath quickening, Jackie continues to scrape and scratch as his tongue flicks faster, secretly delighting in the texture of the boss's soles.

It's hard to see, but the boss is beginning to crack. His toes tremble so Jackie pins them back. The panther mumbles 'kid's got guts after all' but Jackie's focusing on tickling and licking the larger lion's feet. Small, subtle hitches in breath, rumbles, twitches. Little tells.

"One minute left."

Time for the big guns.

Opening his mouth wider, Jackie presses his thumbs against the middle of each arch and pops both of the boss's big toes in his mouth.

It takes one nibble and then they come out with a pop, a thud and a shriek as Ronnie Godmaw falls out of his seat with a ribbon of laughs.

There's a silence as Ronnie overcomes the giggle fit, hauling himself back into his chair. His teeth are sharp; one is pearlescent platinum-coated. He collects himself. Jackie breaks the quiet.

"Sorry."

"Nah, y'did good, kid. Looks like you've escaped the stocks. Not even big guy back there managed it."

He gestures the panther, who huffs.

"Looks like yer gonna have a good time at this job. Real problem-solver. I like that."

"Thank you, sir."

Ronnie grins, exhaling sharply through his nose.

"I am g'nna have to see ya in my office tonight, though, kiddo."

"Sir?"

He ashes the cigar.

"Wanna see what else that tongue'a yers can do."