The Vixen

"No, Raboso is not my mate. He's a..." She went to take a drink, thought better of it and moved to put the tumbler on the coffee table again but misjudged. There was a harsh clink and some of the liquor spilled over the lip. She ignored it. "God, I was about to say friend." She placed her face in her hands. "Truth is, I'm his mistress. He has a mate. Kits too. Two of them."

"But you want him to be your mate."

The vixen wheeled on me, her eyes flashing. There were tears in them. "You forget yourself." Then she snorted, rubbed her eyes with the angry back of a hand and reclaimed her glass. "Yes. Pathetic isn't it?" She drank her drink down and I quickly I refilled her glass before she even offered it to me.

"Trying to get me drunk?" she asked, amused. She drank the glass down and lay back against the armrest with what would have been languid grace if she hadn't misjudged the distance and been forced to grab the backing of the sofa before she fell back too far. Embarrassment flashed momentarily across her face, but she quickly recovered. "Looks like I already am."

She ran a hand down along her stomach, smoothing where her dress had got bunched up. She looked up, met my eyes and chuckled. "Do you humans find the same things attractive, I wonder." A pause, then: "Do you think I'm pretty, human?"

I blinked. "What sort of a question is that, mistress?"

"Answer it."

My heart beat faster. There was no point lying. "Yes I do, mistress."

The edge of her lip curled. "Is that so?" She sat up and drew a hand up along my leg to my thigh. I flinched, but didn't move away. Was this some kind of joke?

"Mistress?"

"Shh," she said. "Don't move. I'm just checking to see if you're lying to me."

Her hand rose higher until it was cupping my crotch. I was already half-hard and the sudden warmth and firmness of her hand, as well as the look on her face, made me harder. Her eyes were hooded with a mixture of sleepiness and lazy excitement and she smiled at the shock on my face.

"Mmmm," she muttered. "You seem to be telling me the truth. But still..." She leaned over, then, and lowered her head over my lap. I froze. Was she actually going to...? Her hands fumbled at the button to my pants and then struggled with the zip. Her head drew lower, and lower, and then she suddenly slumped forward and lay still.

I stared down at her head lying in my lap for a few moments before I heard the snoring.

I bit back laughter. If this was all a joke, she was definitely committed to it. I said her name and patted her head gently in an effort to wake her, but the snoring continued. I sat there, feeling idiotic, wondering just what I should do. If I pushed her head away, she might wake up and I'd lose my chance.

I gingerly leaned over to get her handbag from where it was sitting beside the couch. The angle was uncomfortable, and to make things worse I was now rock hard.

I finally grabbed hold of her handbag but not before my movement disturbed Azeri. She murmured and turned her head over. I slowly sat back up so that her head was back in the horizontal and there was less pressure on her neck. Then I placed her handbag on the armrest and lay a hand on her head, which seemed to settle her. Her hair was soft beneath my hand I started stroking it without thinking. She murmured and a long ear twitched.

I let my stroking continue up to her ear, I wasn't thinking particularly straight since I was pretty drunk too, and I didn't want to lose the opportunity of feeling what her ear felt like. It was soft and fluffy as I expected and it flattened against her head as I stroked it, just like a dog's does.

I glanced along the couch. Azeri's dress had ridden up, exposing a large amount of leg. Her legs were as slender as I expected, but toned and widening to some powerful looking thighs. The light fur along them certainly looked soft, as did that tail of hers lying against the back of the sofa, proud and tall and fluffy.

No, I couldn't let anything distract me. Azeri seemed to have returned to deeper asleep. I opened her handbag and fished out her phone. Luckily, it wasn't passworded and after a few moments I'd accessed the main menu. It wasn't too different from one of our smartphones, but my knowledge of the vulpine language was quickly put to the test. Luckily, the icons were self-explanatory for the most part and I soon had the note application opened. There was a set of numbers there but with no information on what they applied to. I committed them to memory and then went looking through her messages to see if she'd hidden the code there.

The logs recorded messages from several numbers, but two numbers predominated. One was probably Raboso, the other... well, work, I guessed. I looked through some messages from the other numbers as far back as I could go, but nothing jumped out.

Well, I had some numbers. That was enough for now. I closed her phone, put it back in her handbag and replaced it on the floor. But what was I going to do with Azeri?

I cradled her head in my hands and slipped from under her. She snorted and twitched her ears, but slept on. I lowered her head gently to the sofa and got up. I guess I could just leave her like this. She was a bit too heavy to move without waking, and she probably wouldn't appreciate it if she woke up in my arms. Chances were she'd tear my throat out instinctively, like she'd said before.

She looked uncomfortable, though, so I went and got a pillow from her room and placed it under her head. She murmured and turned over so that she was facing the backing of the sofa and as she did her dress rode up some more. It was all bunched up under her tail now and I could see her underwear. White and lacy, they covered what was a very nicely rounded butt.

I swallowed. She'd probably wake up and find her dress pulled up and think I did it. There was nothing else for it.

I crept up to her and feeling like a pervert I took hold of the soft material bunched up beneath her tail and drew it slowly down over her butt.

I sat back down and stared at her as her shoulders rose and fell with each breath. She looked utterly peaceful. Clearly she didn't view me as any kind of threat or else she would never have let herself get into this state. I rankled at the thought, and my sexual frustration added to my anger. I was just a glorified cleaner; no, worse - a pet she thought she could mess around with however she liked. Her teasing was probably some kind of strange dominance thing.

So I wasn't a threat? There was easy access to a knife in the kitchen, the same one I used to cut her breakfast for her. She was so drunk she wouldn't put up any resistance.

I stood there, wondering if I couldn't bring myself to kill her. She was a slave-master, after all, and we were at war. She was the enemy. It was my duty to try and escape however I could.

But just as quickly as the thought occurred to me, I pushed it away. I might be a soldier, but killing an enemy soldier on the battlefield and killing a woman, albeit an enemy, asleep in a home I shared with her were two utterly different things. That demanded colder blood than I had.

And besides, Azeri had treated me well. Uh, as well as you might expect a slave master to treat her slave. She'd teased and humiliated me, true, but was that deserving of death? Besides, without that passcode I was trapped here. There was always the chance that she hadn't recorded it anywhere.

I sat down and poured myself a fresh drink. Any escape would have to wait until tomorrow at the earliest, while she was at work.

She certainly seemed to be sleeping soundly. She really must have wanted to forget everything that happened tonight. From what she'd hinted at, she'd had an unpleasant evening with Raboso.

The thought of that bully striking out with Azeri pleased me. I sat there, pleasantly drunk, and finished my drink. Then I washed everything up and went to bed. I lay there a long time, as I usually do when drunk, my thoughts keeping me awake. Her fur had felt so soft under my fingers, and those ears... those furry ears... only her tail looked fluffier than them.

Even with my hands underneath my pillow I could detect her scent on them. A spicy scent, musky and rich like cinnamon. A hot, sexy scent. The way she'd run her hand up my leg, brought her pretty face down between my legs and been about to...

-----

I woke with an aching erection. The night had been filled with erotic dreams, but the alcohol I'd drunk left the memory of them indistinct in the haze of my cotton-wool mouth and throbbing head.

I glanced at the clock. Still early. She mustn't be awake yet. I got up and washed my face in my little sink. The cold water felt good on my feverish forehead and I drank as much as I could keep down. It was the only cure for a hangover that had ever worked for me.

But I also needed coffee. I ducked upstairs and glanced at the sofa. Azeri had shifted in her sleep and was lying on her back, one leg hanging off the sofa and the other slung over the back of it. The position looked utterly uncomfortable, but she was still fast asleep.

I went and made coffee. As the machine percolated I heard a murmur from the living room.

My name.

It was the first time I'd heard it since the employment centre. She'd always called me 'human' since then. I'd actually started to forget I had a name.

I stood there in shock for a moment, then I went into the living room. Azeri was awake and lying propped up on an elbow.

She blinked at me blearily. "What are you doing?" Her voice was dry and cracked.

"I'm making coffee, mistress," I said. "I'll bring you some when I'm..."

"I'm going to be sick," she said, and promptly was.

I managed to get her to the bathroom before the second wave hit. I had her over the toilet and held back her hair as she vomited again, and then again. Usually I get sick to the stomach when I hear and smell someone else vomiting, but this time I just felt sorry for her. Her body was wracked with heaving until there was nothing left in her stomach.

I brought some tissues and helped her wipe her mouth, but she snatched them from me.

"I'm not a kit," she whispered hoarsely. "Let me be!"

I went back and cleaned up the living room. After a while I heard the shower running. It ran for a long time. I started to worry she'd fallen unconscious and so I knocked on the door.

She said something, but her voice was so low and weak I couldn't make it out. I knocked and called out to her again.

"Go away!" she said, much louder this time and dark with anger.

I messed around until she finally came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. She'd done a poor job of drying herself and looked bedraggled, her wet hair lank against her skin and her ears plastered back against her head. Her face had lost its earlier greenness, but was still pale. She stumbled past me without acknowledging me and slid onto the sofa.

"Coffee," she muttered. I got her some.

She winced as she smelled the cup, but then she drank the coffee down and asked for another.

After another cup she had me bring her some pills from the bathroom, which she ate a handful of, and then, after snatching up her handbag, she retreated to her bedroom and slid into bed.

I left her there to sleep it off. After an hour I went to check on her. She was asleep. I checked on her every hour after that, with the same result. Around midday I decided I should wake her. I shook her shoulder under the tightly tucked-in sheet.

Azeri opened her eyes and grinned at me, but the grin rapidly slid from her face as her eyes focussed on me.

"Oh," she said. "It's you." She slid up onto her elbows. "What time is it?"

I told her.

"Damn."

"Are you hungry, mistress?" I asked.

"Mmm," she said. She grabbed her phone from under the pillow and checked it. A grim look settled onto her face and for a second I thought I must have left some sign of my earlier snooping on her phone, but I quickly learned the reason for her frown wasn't me.

"That asshole," she muttered. She looked up at me as though noticing me for the first time. "I'll have meat. Anything, as long as it's cold."

I excused myself and went to get her lunch.

I nursed her for the whole day, obeying her curt commands, but never fast enough for her. She was behaving like she had when she'd first enslaved me, keeping me at a distance and bullying me, but without her earlier mocking humour. That brief moment of intimacy last night seemed far away now.

Well, she had been incredibly drunk.

And yet... she'd called my name this morning. Her voice had been plaintive, fragile. Maybe, half awake and sick, she'd just forgotten to call me 'human'.

I weathered the storm. She spent a lot of the day sleeping. It was the first day of their weekend, so on their version of Monday I'd try out the numbers I'd memorised.

I played them over in my head, hoping I remembered them correctly. Well, we'd see.

The next day when I went to wake her, Azeri was already awake. I opened the blinds as I usually do and she watched me in silence, blinking her big golden eyes as the light spilled in. She looked as though she'd recovered.

"Do you feel better mistress?"

No reply. Just those large eyes fixed on me. I grew uncomfortable and left the room. She certainly seemed a lot better, even if she was acting odd. Her complexion, for one thing. Her face was a healthy pink colour, so different from yesterday's paleness. And there was something else. Yes, her scent. It was particularly strong this morning.

I got her breakfast ready. She came in dressed in a short-hemmed sun dress. She was also made-up, although for once her hair was held back by a simple headband rather than done up in the complex style she favoured when going out. She sat down at the table and I brought her her food.

She ate voraciously and asked for seconds. I was a bit slow bringing them and her eyes flashed at me dangerously.

So much for her being in a better mood. At least she wasn't shouting at me.

When she was finished she got up and fixed me with a strange look. "I'll be away all day, so there is no need for you to make me lunch."

"Yes, mistress," I said.

A gentle, mocking smile flickered onto her lips. "Aren't you wondering where I'm going?"

I shook my head. "It's not my place to ask, mistress."

The truth was, I was interested. She seldom dressed up to go out on weekends. In fact, she usually went to the office to catch up on paperwork.

Her curled lips settled into a grin. "You know, human, you have a droll sense of humour. I very much enjoy it." She stood up and twirled about in her dress. "So how do I look?

I stared at her. She'd never acted this way in front of me before. Also, she looked beautiful in that dress with her long legs on ample display. Her hair was loose and twirled with her as well.

"You look beautiful, mistress."

The words came out more heartfelt than I'd intended. Azeri looked at me and after a few moments she smiled.

"You are too kind, human."

Then, humming, she left.

I waited an hour. With the morning off from my usual weekend duties, I passed the time sitting on the couch and learning more of the language. When I decided she wasn't coming back, I went to the door. It was a simple keypad, and I'd watched Azeri use it many times before, although at a distance. The menus were very straightforward.

I'd counted the number of keypresses Azeri had made, and now I knew the folder options it was a simple matter of subtraction to work out how long the code was. It had to be six numbers long.

I mentally discarded the numbers that were either too long or too short, which left me with three sets of numbers. I input each of the numbers after the other.

None proved to be the code. Or maybe I'd just misremembered them.

I slumped back on the couch, feeling despair settle over me. I really was trapped. Although this was a gilded cage, it was a cage nonetheless. My entire life revolved around Azeri, my entire existence now directed towards her pleasure. The thought sickened me.

I went back up to the codepad and started pushing numbers at random in desperation. Then I fell to my knees and lay there, my palms against the cool lacquered wood of the floor.

So this was how I was going to spend the rest of my life.

-----------

Azeri returned little under an hour later. The front door flew open and she stalked into the apartment. I jumped to my feet from where I'd been sitting on the couch studying.

"You have your own desk," she snapped. "Go there now."

I stood up. In my hurry to leave Azeri and I almost collided with each other. I glanced up at her. Her eyes were red. In fact, all of her face was red.

"Mistress, are you alright?"

Her eyes flashed. "Of course I'm not, you fool." She brushed me aside and threw the bathroom door open. She began stripping her dress off with the door still open and, flustered, I retreated downstairs to my room.

What the hell was going on?

Raboso again.

I was lying on my bed when I heard Azeri call for me. I hurried back upstairs. She was in the living room sitting on the couch in a towel, her face in her hands. Her hair was still wet, lying flat against her skull, and her usually haughty ears were droopy, laden with moisture. When I approached her she looked up at me.

"Please sit down," she said, patting the couch beside her. "I... I need someone to talk to right now. And there's no one else around."

Despite the offhand cruelty of her words, her voice was tired, the expression on her face defeated, so I made no protest and did as she said.

"You said this morning I looked beautiful, human," she said after a while. "Were you telling the truth?"

"I was, mistress," I said.

She examined my face, then nodded. "This morning your words sounded genuine as well. I'm glad."

The plaintive tone of her voice pricked my heart. "Mistress, what happened? Why are you so upset?"

She shook her head. "I called you a fool, human. It's me who's the fool." She sighed. "We'd planned to meet today. He said he'd organised everything but after I'd been waiting for an hour I got a message from him. His mate had planned something without telling him. As a surprise. Bitch." She spat the word. "Nothing accidental. She knows he's straying. I know she knows and puts up with it. He is handsome, after all, and powerful and..." She frowned. "He made me feel loved, human. That bastard. And he doesn't give a damn about me."

She lay back, rested a hand against her forehead. "Do you know why we argued two nights ago? He refused to sleep with me."

I murmured disbelief. Azeri glanced at me but didn't say anything. She continued. "Too close to estrous, he said. He's petrified of getting me pregnant, you know. I realised last night he has no intention of marrying me. But when he invited me out today I thought..." Her voice broke. "Well, who knows what idiotic thing I thought."

"Estrous, mistress?"

She looked at me. A smile crept onto her face, incongruous with her moist, downcast eyes. "Oh that's right. You don't have estrous do you? It's our mating season." She sniffed. "You humans mate all year round, don't you?"

"Well," I said. "Some people do."

She laughed. "You know, human, I like your droll humour. Your lack of estrous must be why there is so very many of you. I feel sorry for your poor females. Of course vulpines are physically capable of having sex any time, but it never seems the same as it does in estrous. Everything grows ready for lovemaking." She leaned over and brought her face close to mine. "My eyes, for example. Do you see my pupils, how big they are?"

I swallowed and nodded. There was no denying her eyes were even larger and darker than usual. The pupils were almost fully dilated and glistened like dark water. I'd thought they looked that way from crying, but now I saw them for what they were: dangerous, but also playful.