title: Night Out aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [Dsc85] id: [52774344] date: 星期日, 七月 30日 2023, 1:56:32 下午 modified: 星期日, 七月 30日 2023, 2:05:30 下午

[TOC]

Night Out

Author: Dsc85 Source: Night Out [by Vonadi]

Fiera stood in front of the mirror, looking over her face, her eyes, her muzzle, her fur… any imperfection that might stand out as embarrassing if overlooked. She had just finished brushing back the hair along her head and neck, to the point not even a single strand stood out in defiance of her intended look. The red hue highlighting where her fur transitioned from white to black had been freshly dyed, soft and fluffy from her usual shampoo and conditioner, and miraculously enough her outfit remained untarnished by the endless shedding of a husky’s coat.

“Finally,” She thought, “I can be seen in public.”

Pulling up her denim shorts and adjusting the edge of her crop-top—ensuring her fluff doesn’t stick out along the edge—Fiera glances between the pair of black, open-toe heels resting against her desk and her usual sneakers. The former was certainly more appropriate… albeit a pain in the paws to wear. The latter was trashier… but it certainly made the evening sound more enjoyable in her head.

Baring her teeth slightly at the thought, ultimately she reaches down and grabs the heels, quickly pushing her right paw into the first and buckling the strap before she could convince herself otherwise. Just as she begins to fit her left paw in as comfortably as her footwear would allow, however, she realizes she forgot something…

Picking up the amethyst ring from her desk, she examines it fondly, the vibrant purple gemstone as eye-catching as when she bought it. For such an expensive, custom-cut piece of jewelry, it never ceased to bother her she botched the ring size… but, at the very least, it fit snugly enough on her toe. Sliding it past the padded ‘bean’ of her toe, she finishes adjusting the strap of her heel, now fully prepared to head out.

Tegon could do nothing as the husky slid the ring onto her paw, the thin string leashing his body to the gemstone dragging him helplessly beneath the shadow of her foot. Fiera dominated the sky above, a godly being compared to the insignificant, millimeter-tall drake actively being forced to join her for the evening. His legs, arms, and body were bound by string as thin and resilient as spider silk, rendering him helpless as the ring settled against Fiera’s toe. Briefly, his body dangles over the worn surface of her heel, the faded outline of her paw’s shape having formed a craterous wasteland against the leather below.

And then all at once, she slides her furred foot into her heel, the captive micro landing roughly against the very edge of one such crater, formed by the very toe he was involuntarily chained to. Immediately recognizing the potential danger of being caught beneath the colossal canine’s weight, he wriggles in vain, desperately trying to inch his way free of the toe print, fearing what might happen if he were caught under her step… fortunately enough, he finds himself under the relative safety of the gap beneath her toes.

In a single swift, nauseating motion, the entire world shifts as the surrounding goddess stands upright. The ceiling of fur above lowers rapidly as her pads press flat to support her weight, fitting neatly into the imprint of the footwear. His eyes growing wide, Tegon pulls frantically at his restraints, pressing his cheek against the ground as he focuses on pulling his arms with all his might: his muscles hurt, his wrists grow strained, his tail flicks wildly about… but no progress is made. At least not before the world begins to tilt again, the sky lifting, the minuscule dragon feeling his body shift down towards the crater.

“No! Please!” The dragon begs in desperate panic as he feels his body begin to slide back into the crater- at first slowly, then rapidly descending beneath her toe. The world tilts ever downward, the string pulling taut as the forward momentum of her step forces him against the leathery insole.

Then, just as suddenly as the world lifted, it swings forth like a pendulum. Briefly, Tegon begins to lift, literally lighter than a feather, only for an instant, as the paw above rapidly descends, her toe catching him between it and her heel as she finishes all but a single step forward….

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-

The husky growls quietly to herself, arms crossed, idly tapping her paw as she waits in line. If there was one thing Fiera struggled with, it was patience… but what she lacked in patience, she more than made up for with self-restraint. She knows the wait takes less time than the walk to get there, but she’s eager for a drink. And she knows acting haughty over waiting in line would mean no drink.

Every few seconds, the line moves, and she takes another few steps forward, each one another rollercoaster for the unfortunate passenger caught beneath her toe, too small to be felt, too insignificant to be heard. It was a long, arduous walk- for Fiera, in heels. For Tegon, a single step was overwhelming, exhausting, dizzying, nauseating… an unimaginable feat to have to endure for the entire trip thus far. And the night had only just begun.

Stepping inside the club, the canine barely waits to adjust to the sudden flashing lights and blaring techno, deftly avoiding patrons as they beeline for the bar, fixated on getting a solid buzz before anything else. Finding her way to the bar, she eagerly mounts the nearest empty barstool, tail wagging behind her. With a firm clack, her heels come to rest against the bar railing beneath the seat, obliviously squeezing her ‘companion’ beneath her as she hails the bartender.

“Hey Zeph!” The husky barks loudly, immediately recognizing the skink at the table’s rainbow-colored stripes. The skink grins and turns her head as she recognizes her voice, quickly losing interest in the flirtatious wolf leaning over the counter. After all, Fiera never failed to tip well.

Sliding towards her customer, Zepha leans across the counter, cheek resting against her palm, tail brushing smoothly along the wide selection of intoxicating refreshments lining the shelves beyond.

“What’re ya having today, Fie?” The skink coos, bringing her snout close enough to the dog one might assume she was aiming for a kiss. The coy gesture hardly goes unnoticed by the nearest patrons.

“Mm… Mojito, but replace the rum with vanilla vodka.” The husky replies, playfully nuzzling the skink’s nose. Internally, the bartender suppresses a grimace- vanilla replacements were popular among canines, not so much other guests. But she was in no position to refuse…

“One abomination coming up,” She mocks, abruptly pulling away and ignoring the ensuing growl as she gets to work.

Turning to look at the dance floor, Fiera’s ears twitch as they take note of a change in song. A more appealing beat flows out from the club’s many speakers, the intro rising quickly, a heavy bass taking hold, the crowd enraptured by its energy. Her tail starts to swish, at first slowly drifting to each side, then rapidly, unable to hide her enjoyment. She smiles and begins to sway in her seat, and her paw starts tapping along with the alluring rhythm…

Those more partial to a hardcore club environment might consider Tegon’s predicament the ideal club experience. Every tap of the husky’s foot was a dizzying whiplash between her padded toe and the cushioned leather insole; each tap of her heel against the bar a violent, earthshattering impact synced to a loud, thunderous bass shaking the very atmosphere within the club. Tegon is rendered so helpless at the whim of the husky’s paw his brain can hardly process a single thought, all too overwhelmed by the world shaking around him. He has little choice but to wait for it to end, yet Fiera is enjoying the song all too much for that to happen anytime soon.

Yet by some miracle, her paw does stop- the husky pauses, chatting briefly with the bartender as she receives her drink, the oblivious dog’s unwilling passenger granted a brief reprieve from the nauseating experience. Tilting her foot to the side, she carelessly slides the dragon between her toes, idly toying with him as she wiggles her toes. From Tegon’s perspective, it’d almost come off as intentional, but only by chance. As gentle as a feather, her long, soft strands of fur brush smoothly against the bound lizard, providing a modicum of comfort as she sips her cocktail, crossing her legs as she takes in the atmosphere.

The experience remained no less mind-boggling for Tegon, and he knew things could grow worse at a moment’s notice. But for the time being, he tries to enjoy the soft, passive brushing against her warm fur, nuzzling wearily into the mountainous toe he was leashed to. As miserable as it was, something about being tied to her like this—the intimate proximity, the sheer scale, the fact he was so incomprehensively overpowered without her intention—instilled some excitement within him. He couldn’t help but blush, whimpering softly as, for but a moment, he’s held gently in the gap between her toes. The blaring music and rowdy crowd almost seem to fade away as he takes in the moment, resting against her for as long as she’d allow.

Tilting her head back, Fiera lifts the end of her glass, the last few ounces of liquid disappearing down her throat in one final, satisfied ‘gulp’. The warm, anxiety-relieving comfort of booze had already started to take effect, prompting a relaxed sigh from the canine. Finally, she was starting to feel in the mood…  She lifts her arms high, stretching back and squeezing her toes as a smile spreads across her face. All at once, she releases the tension in her body, shaking her head and letting out a contented growl, one quickly drowned out by the music.

Then, she stands up sharply, planting both feet firmly against the ground as she lifts from her seat. The dancing lasers and flashing strobe lights were calling her to the dance floor, already packed with the night’s party animals, the majority of which being nocturnal predators. Nevertheless, she passes a group of deer with dulled and shortened antlers, only just enough left to support a fanciful array of glowsticks. Taking her first few steps out on the floor, Fiera nearly trips over a fennec seemingly having mastered the art of dancing and running simultaneously, only just barely stopping herself upon seeing the shine of the many piercings adorning the top of their ears. Normally this would elicit a growl from the husky- but tonight was different. Unlike her day-to-day life, the club was a place of chaos and disorder, a moment to let go and enjoy it all; even amongst the inconvenience of bumping shoulders and inconsiderate dancers, flicking tails and splashing drinks, she somehow found it within herself to appreciate the madness of it all.

And besides, the music and drinks made it just that much easier.

After pushing through (and being pushed around by) the lurching crowd, the husky manages to find a small spot to herself behind an inebriated rabbit. Her ears flick as they focus on the music, her eyes focus on the rhythm of the crowd, her tail wags, her hips begin to sway, her legs begin to tap and kick, within minutes she relinquishes any sense of control to the instinct to dance.

Seconds bleed into minutes. The minutes pass into an hour. The DJ fires their endless beat into the crowd, only the wildest among them able to duel the rhythm for long. Rarely can even one hold their ground to the music’s end: many falter, they grow tired, they leave for a drink, a break, to head home, to use the restrooms, to refuel their addictions, to empty their stomachs after over-indulging on such addictions, inevitably all fall victim to the music’s vampiric qualities. Yet some fight for hours, champions of the dance floor, whether through skill or perseverance they deftly maneuver through the crowd, the energy they exude a challenge to the very electricity coursing through the speakers, the lasers and lights, the power fueling the beast of rhythm. Fiera is one among them, challenging the auditory beast in its very lair, holding her ground to the very end, even as the floor empties and the crowd grows thin, she remains. The heels come off, her fur grows unkempt and damp with sweat, she begins to pant heavily, yet she savors every second. This was her time, and she refused to give anything less than her all in the never-ending fight against that beast.

Tegon, to the contrary, was bearing the brunt of the battle. The conditions of his plight are nothing short of brutal; for hours he can do nothing but feel himself be smashed, squeezed, trampled, and compressed beneath the coarse, leathery paw pads. With the occasional odd kick or twist of her foot, he’d find himself flung freely out from the claustrophobic confines, only to land squarely between her toes once again. The warm, damp fur is the last thing he wants to be pressed against, and no amount of AC was enough to keep him from feeling the heat emanating from the dancing husky’s paw.

There were some less strenuous moments, brief reprieves and momentary breaks as the dog grew tired enough to pause and pant, to settle down along with the end of a song. And yet every time he thought she might be done, he’d find his captor eager to begin again, another few minutes of dizzying, nauseating kicking, stepping, dancing… her energy was boundless. The shrunken dragon hardly has the ability to think, but even in his miserable state, he comes to realize she’s keeping a relentless pace on the floor. Made all the worse by the fact he was already exhausted by the time she had first stepped into the building. His pained, desperate whimpers continue to be drowned out by the music, the oblivious crowd towering in the skies above. 

Another song begins. Another pause ends as her foot begins to move. Far beyond fatigued, the little dragon leashed to her ring can only muster a faint squirm against his restraints, his vision starting to blur. For the millionth time, the world moves, it dances, it shakes… but just as it begins, just as he resigns himself to his inescapable fate, this time, time itself seems to slow to a crawl. For the briefest instant, the dizziness, the nausea, the vertigo, they all fade away and—in that one second of euphoria—the dragon finally reaches the brink of consciousness, his mind no longer able to keep up with it all.

Eventually, the dragon begins to regain his senses, though for how long he was out… he can’t quite be sure. His hands twitch against the restraints at his wrists, an immediate reminder of his predicament. But the world isn’t shaking anymore- no, he wasn’t being kicked, squeezed, or trampled. There was no rumbling of giants, no music shaking the very atmosphere around him, no kicks or twist of the giant’s foot to send him reeling. He could sense he was dangling from the wire, still adorned to the husky’s paw as an accessory, his left side pressed gently against a warm, soft surface. But even more then that, he sensed just how sore he was… almost as soon as he regains consciousness, his entire body began screaming at him, aching about as much as if he were used as a punching bag. Every breath felt painful, as if every scale, every cell were bruised with each rise and fall of his chest.

He winces as he slowly opens his eyes, finding himself back in the moderate safety of Fiera’s apartment. A quick glance to the side reveals that the warm surface he was pressed against was the padded sole of the husky’s foot, resting in an upright position. Peering in the gap between her toes, Tegon can just barely make out a mountainous figure in the distance, a towering snout topped with a wet, black nose. A long, pink tongue seems to pulsate as the canine pants heavily, each rhythm of breath can be heard and felt reverberating throughout her body, reaching down her toes and across the wire holding Tegon against her. 

At least the worst of it was over, the dragon thought. As to whether or not Fiera would remember where she left him, well… Surely she had only just forgotten?

The night before was a blur. They had both been drinking… he knows he did something to annoy her. Did he push her a little too far? Do something awkward? He had wanted to ask her out, but- surely that alone wasn’t it. Whatever it was, she didn’t like it. He remembers the flash of light against her teeth as she smirked, a malicious smirk, an ‘I’m too good for you’ kind of smirk. Or perhaps the flash of light was the… thing she used. A gun? A remote? A pen…? Something with a protruding end, a barrel or a point, and when she activated it, everything grew bright. Bright as the sun. The whole room seemed to turn white as his entire body tingled, tingled like when your leg falls asleep.

And then he was small. Small as an ant- no, smaller than that, a sugar ant. Hardly a millimeter or two, if that. Shorter than even the small, thin strands of fur on her paws.  As for the wire… He vaguely remembers tying it himself, or perhaps that was just him trying to fight against it? Maybe she was able to shrink herself down to do it? It was too small, too thin to handle at her size, at least not with how precisely he had been restrained. He can’t quite recall, but he knows it wasn’t long after he had been resized that he was leashed to the ring- he remembers kicking and struggling as he was teased, flaunted, humiliated amongst some mutuals, her friends, his friends. She took pictures of him with her phone… or, maybe he was making that part up, but he was embarrassed, his cheeks burning, a mixture of fear and embarrassment, and she didn’t hold back in sharing his predicament with others. But- didn’t she say it was only temporary? He remembers that- yes, yes she did, she said it was just for that night, just to ‘fuck with him’… he thinks those are the words she used. But when she took off the ring, she left him there all night. And she didn’t put it on that morning for work, he just sat there all day.

That must mean she forgot then; Tegon reasserts to himself. She didn’t even acknowledge him when she put on her ring that night, and- she likely didn’t feel him either. So… surely she’d remember eventually? Surely she wasn’t keeping this up… intentionally? It was all just a mistake, at some point she had to remember he was down there, apologize for taking it further than she meant, fix his size and let him go. It was a cruel joke that turned into an unfortunate mistake, but he’d live. Go home, lick his wounds, try and forget the fact he spent two days the size of a bug, an entire night leashed to her foot. Technically what she did might’ve been illegal, but… they both knew he wouldn’t say anything. The humility of the situation, her very prestigious role with that security company, the way she oh-so-nonchalantly used a highly coveted, unfathomably expensive, dubiously legal, yet-to-be-regulated weapon to make him a mere accessory… No doubt they both knew he would be out of his depth trying to get back at her. Right?

…

…

…

The only answer Tegon gets is a soft, resounding snore from across the couch. She’d fallen asleep, drunk and undoubtedly exhausted from partying, albeit incomparable to the level of fatigue she’d inflicted upon Tegon. She’ll remember eventually, Tegon thinks. She has to.

He shivers as cold air billows out from a vent above, rustling the husky’s fur, undoubtedly having chosen this spot intentionally. Weakly, he presses his cheek against the warm, still damp underside of her paw, nuzzling into the leathery surface, as if the sleeping giant might somehow acknowledge the pitiful gesture. The air in her apartment was freezing, and he didn’t have a blanket… just the fact he was dangling from a wire, pressed against her foot, likely to be stuck there the entire evening. At the very least, the simple opportunity to press against her for warmth was nicer than being kicked and trampled.

Sniffling softly, he leans further against the snoring husky, trying to angle his body as close to her as he can manage.

“Just one more night,” The dragon says to himself, “One more night and I can go…”

It’s a long night, but eventually, the dragon manages to drift himself off to sleep, hoping for a better tomorrow.