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41.

I ran down the stairs, still feeling dizzy from my blackout but wanting to get as far away from Herb's cell as I could. Counting off the first three doors on the lower level I stopped in front of the lion's.

Two quick knocks. Fuck, my hand hurt. At least it wasn't broke.

Sanders sat up in his bunk. "Hey, Regal. C'mon in." He waved me over. "Did it go well?"

"Yes, sir. Can I please use your sink?"

He stood and let me squeeze past. "You're bleeding."

Shit. I touched my nose before seeing the blood was coming from a split knuckle. Probably from when the bear was slamming my hand down on the table. Not a lot of blood, just enough to seep through my fur, tinting the gray into a blackish brown.

It stung when I put it under the faucet. Sanders leaned over me, watching. You'd think any fur bigger than me would send me into panic mode, but score one for Regal. I still knew who my friends were.

"How hard did you hit him?" he asked with a grin.

I laughed and bent forward to splash the tastes and smells of Herb off my muzzle. "I'm ok now," I told him and wiped my face with my shirt.

He patted my back. "So it worked?"

"More or less." I shrugged. "He took the letter, but this whole plan depends a lot on luck... All I wanted to do was help that new fur, that fennec that came in last week. There had to be an easier way."

"You know him? The fennec?"

"No. But he was being hurt... I wanted to do what no one did for me, and make his life a little easier." I could feel him judging me. Thinking that I was an idiot. I guess I was, but it wasn't something that looked like it would change.

Sanders sighed. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Dimitri said I have to do whatever you say."

"That wasn't my idea. Sorry I didn't say anything, but you know how he is. Sometimes it's just easier to let him have it his way."

That was an understatement. I wanted nothing more than to sleep, but if Dimitri really does make Sanders tell him what we did, I wanted to make sure the lion could answer with complete honesty that I let him tell me what to do. So I stood there quietly, waiting for him to suggest something.

He caught on quickly and it turned into a silent staring contest until I laughed when he stuck his tongue out.

"Fine, Regal." He sat down and motioned for me to join him on the bunk. He pulled his tail to where he could comb the tuft of fur on the end. He shared the cell with another lion, but one look at their shelves and the space by the toilet and you could tell Sanders was into grooming even more than most cats. His stuff was mostly small bottles of fur product he bought from the commissary.

"Did Jake mention me lately?"

Uh... kind of, when he told me to stay out of his life he did say that if you wanted him, you knew who to pay. "He knows you might be interested."

He leaned forward. "Really?"

"Yeah. I think you've got a chance. But you know how shy he is."

Sanders grinned. "Heh, ain't he cute? I'm not into dudes when I'm on the outside, but a fox like Jake... Shit, I could convert for that fur."

That's almost exactly how I felt about Hash. Dammit. I was hoping the experience with what Herb just did to me would have put me off trying to help anyone ever again. But nope. Jake needed someone and Sanders deserved someone. I had to do what I could to make it happen.

He sighed and lean back against the wall. I couldn't help it, I looked at his crotch. Am I a horrible fur? The only way I could show appreciation to anyone behind bars was to offer them myself. It was all I had.

"You know," I said in that lower voice I used to use on vixens down at the clubs, "you could pretend I'm Jake." He looked at me and I thought I might have offended him. "I do a really good impression of him. Wanna hear it?"

"I have to," he said with a grin.

"Ok. Close your eyes and just listen. You'll swear you're here with Jake."

"Ok." He shut his eyes, his grin growing wider.

I really did have a good impression. I sat there, wordlessly waiting for Sanders to react.

His grin lessened. "Whenever you're ready... Still don't hear any- Oh!" he opened his eyes and roared with laughter. "Shit, Regal, that was a good impression."

"Thank you. My talents are wasted in prison."

He didn't fuck me that evening. It was weird to think how strange that felt. To just hang out in private and not end up with a hole full of cum. I can't say why Sanders didn't make a move, but I can tell you what I wanted his reasoning to be...

I wanted Sanders to feel a sense of commitment to Jake. Even if the red fox wasn't his yet, how romantic would it be for the lion who could have all the ass he wants, to feel compelled to wait? Then again, this place might have warped my notion of what romance was. For all I knew, Sanders could have just been turned off by the scent of panda balls and jizz that clung to me like leech.

The two of us spent the next couple of hours just talking. For whatever reason, Sanders gave me one of the best evenings I would ever have.

***

Dimitri made me wash the scent of other furs off before he let me curl up on the edge of his bunk. It was getting easier for me to tell him everything that gets done to me. I'm not sure that I liked that. Having so few secrets made me nervous about the ones I kept.

"Jake saved you?" the tiger leaned on his elbow so he could watch my face.

"Yes, sir." I'd got to the part where I woke up to Jake talking Herb out of breaking my hand.

Dimitri took my hand and checked to see that nothing did break. I'm not sure what kind of medical training he had, but his method of squeezing and twisting to find if anything moved that wasn't supposed to, was both scary and painful. He made up for it all when he put my knuckle to his lips, dragging his rough tongue over the blood stained fur. It reminded me that in his own way, he really did care about me.

"You didn't kick the panda's ass like I taught you."

"Sorry, sir. I- I would have but he had that bear with him."

"You're coming with me on the Yard tomorrow."

Fuck. I hated when he would make me work out. And the exercise equipment was in feline territory. They'd all be staring. And what about Hash? I haven't seen my coyote in days! Every time I saw that bag of extra spicy chips I planed to give him, it made me feel like my heart ate one. All stingy and burning. "Thank you," was the only safe response.

"You did everything Sanders told you?"

"Of course, sir," I chirped with pathetic pride.

"Good, pup. I'll ask him about it tomorrow at breakfast. If you're telling the truth, you might deserve a treat."

That made me tense. Naturally he noticed and laughed at me.

***

The next morning Jake returned my thanks with a shrug. As we walked to the cafeteria for breakfast I tried to tell him to tell him how grateful I was but he barely paid attention. A guard then yelled at me for talking. Don't think I didn't immediately note that he conveniently ignored the giant polar bear who was laughing and bragging loudly about stomping some poor fucker into the floor over an unpaid debt. Do you see the double standards I have to deal with?

The second we passed through the double doors one of the Pack's messengers slipped Dimitri a note. In line for our food, the note was given to me. I took a risk and scanned it for anything written by Hash.

Nothing. Just Vince's damn near illegible scrawl! That's it. I'm going to beg Dimitri to make Vince stop punishing my coyote.

I shoved the note in my pocket and took a tray. A mouse was serving toast with a pair of tongs. I tried to take my mind off Hash by finding things to complain about. It was becoming a hobby of mine.

"What is that?" I asked, shielding my tray from the toast held above it.

"Bread, dumbass."

"White bread," I corrected him, "but I'm asking what it's coated with."

He blinked.

"It's not butter. I want to know what it is," I said.

The line was slowly moving on. Experience taught me I had less than a minute before someone became pissed at me.

The mouse's nose scrunched. "It's butter. I brushed it on the bread myself."

"Restaurants, or a prison as the case may be, don't use real butter. It's too expensive. You probably are using a mixture of artificially flavored fats and oils."

"Ok... What the fuck do you want me to do about it?"

I thought I was being clear. "Can I have unbuttered toast?"

"Oh," he grinned. "No." He dropped the toast onto the back of my hand.

I snarled at him and tried to shake the crumbs out of my fur. Eew. That asshole got greasy faux-butter on me. I pushed my tray along the counter and ignored the laughter.

Sausage links, ninety-percent carcinogenic preservatives no doubt. That powder they try to pass off as egg. A biscuit that smells like plastic and tastes like rubber. Good God. No wonder I'm so skinny. None of this shit was actual food.

"Real lettuce. Biodegradable pesticides, but," the goat held up his finger, "approved by the State and I washed the heads extra good. The carrot and turnip slices came from a bag, but they should be easy to pick off if you don't like them." He smiled at me like someone getting electrocuted.

I squinted, looking to see if this was the same goat that usually clashes with me over the edibility of the food. My mouth opened but he struck me speechless again.

"Two," he held up the fingers to emphasize this, "helpings."

"Uh... wow. I'm- Thank you." I tried to match his smile but now it was starting to look psychotic.

"Don't mention it. I had to ask a lot of questions and it took a lot of time, but as long as you're happy. Right?" His words were clipped, and almost sounded rehearsed.

"Yeeaah... Really, thank you. It means a lot that furs in here can still be civilised and-"

"Move your cheap ass, faggot!" shouted someone behind me.

I sighed and picked up my tray. God, prison sucks.

***

"Do you want me to read the note, sir?" I asked as I sat down.

Dimitri shrugged, which was his way of saying yes. That's something I've learned. When he doesn't want you to do something he will make it painfully clear. I glanced around making sure there were no guards, then cleared my throat dramatically and started.

"'Congrats to Ellie. Can't believe he got Herb to take the bait.'" I lowered the letter to offer my customary commentary. "Why does everybody underestimate me? I mean, I know it was a team effort, but I think I'm pretty capable, right? Right?" Jake was staring at his tray and Dimitri was busy shoveling food in his mouth, but I'm sure they agreed with me.

Continuing with Vince's letter: "'I've got one more shitty job for him..." damn it, "but if he starts to bitch, tell him I'm bringing Hash out on the Yard today.'" My eyes lit up. I felt so happy I could have burst into tears.

"What job?" Dimitri asked.

Reality came crashing down on my fantasy of frollicking through the Yard with my favorite coyote. "Um, let's see," I read it, and reread it. "It says I should wait for the breakfast line to wind down, then go into the kitchen and ask for a goat named Gideon." I looked up at Dimitri. "It says he paid extra to be rough." My ears flattened. My normal jobs were rough what did it mean when Vince actually thought it would be rough?

"I know who that is," Dimitri said during a break from his devouring of the faux eggs. "Don't let him get too rough. I'm not changing my mind about making you work out today."

"Sir," I whined in desperation, "I haven't seen Hash in forever!"

He set down the fork. "You haven't worked out in longer."

The way he looked at me, it was like he was inviting me to try and challenge him. My heart sank and I looked down, submitting again to the tiger's will.

"Go now," he ordered, "I don't want to spend all morning in this shithole."

I looked at my uneaten breakfast, the double serving of salad I was never going to taste. There was no way I foolish enough to say anything. Dimitri seemed to have reached his limit earlier than usual today. I just nodded and left with a monotone yes, sir. Dimitri's good little pet.

***

The guard didn't care when I started knocking on the door that led behind the food counter. He was a hyena with a few holes in his ears for piercings he must have worn when he was off the clock. Oh, to not be locked in here! I know furs joke about giving their left nut for something, but I think I would actually do it. I can live with one nut, but how long can I live in this soul sucking hell. Even if I just slept somewhere that wasn't here...

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to bury those thoughts. They would do nothing but depress me.

The door opened and an otter gave one look at me before leaving the door open and walking away. I guess I've been back here more than a few times. Or maybe it was just that the Pack made all the foxes whore themselves out and the whole prison knew it.

"Wait," I called after him. "I was supposed to ask about Gideon."

The otter turned around and raised an eyebrow like he recognized me. "Oh... Yeah, Gid's waiting for you in storeroom three."

I trudged through the hot kitchen, the staff hard at work churning out their poison. As my fingers touched the latch on the storeroom door my brain finally made the connection. Gideon had to be the goat that worked the foodline.

Oh. My. God. He was going to kill me. I- I fucked with him almost every day! It was my one chance to complain without fear of getting my ass kicked, when I was safely on the other side of the counter.

My had pulled back like I'd burned it. This was not good. This was- This was a fur who must hate me. And he paid Vince to be rough. I felt panic start to well up. I turned around ready to indulge my impulse to run away, but the otter was watching me as he leaned against the sink. Not just the otter, several of the kitchen staff were staring at me. There was no escape. They all wanted payback for the grief I gave them.

Now was not the time to fall apart, I told myself. If I can survive Dimitri, I can survive this. I put a shaky hand back on the door latch and took a deep breath. Time for some foxy charm.

"G-gideon! I can't believe it took us this long to finally meet," I walked to where the goat stood. He was no longer smiling maniacally. I put my hand out. "I know Vine said my name is Elie, but it's really Elliott, and I kinda prefer it if furs call me Reg-" a massive slap knocked the words out of my mouth.

I fell to one knee holding my burning face, trying to keep my balance.

"Ohh," Gideon moaned. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do that!"

That really fucking hurt!

"Get up, bitch. I want to do that again," Gideon howled with laughter.

"Wait! Please, don't hit me," I whimpered.

"Get up, bitch, or I swear to God I'll just beat you on the floor," his voice shook with rage.

I struggled to my feet, still whimpering like a pup. "Please, you don't need to do this. I'll never say another word about the food again," I choked out the words.

He shook his head gleefully. "No, no! I want you to talk. Ask me if the apples were ethically harvested!"

"What? That doesn't even sound like-" he raised his fist and I cowered, "ok! I'll say it... Just.... Please, not that hard. I'm begging you," I appealed to any sense of mercy he might have have hidden as he stood before me. "H-have those... apples... been..." I saw his arm pull back and I squeezed my eyes shut, "ethically har-"

I can't tell you how loud the slap was because my ears were ringing from the blow. I covered my head with my arms and fell to my knees hunching into a ball.

"Ohhhh!" he moaned like this was giving him an orgasm.

I peeked up. How could so many furs come to hate me? I try to be good. I try to keep my snarkiness to a minimum. Did I deserve this? Am I really in hell because of what I did? I don't even believe in a hell, but I was there!

Gideon walked away from me, toward the back of the storeroom. If he was going for a shiv, I might not want to resist. He came back holding something that looked like a peeled potato. This confused me until he bent down and held it in front of my face. It was carved into the shape of a cock.

"Do you know what this is?"

"I was afraid to say. "A.potato?" I ducked my head, fearing more slaps.

Gideon laughed at me. "I love seeing you like this, but knock it off. I've got the hitting you out of my system for now." He waited for me to straighten my back so I was looking at him from my knees at about crotch level.

"It's not a potato. It's ginger root." He looked expectantly at me.

I knew where he was going to stick that, but honestly, I was a little relieved. With the amount of cocks and cock shaped objects I've had shoved into me, this was not all that big. I could take it. No problem.

"You've never heard of figging, have you?" he asked.

I shook my head no. "I'm not really into cooking."

My answer seemed to delight him further. He laughed and walked around me. "Take you pants off."

Lately I've tried to give my clients a little show, imitating the way Jake would shimmy out of his clothes like he was dancing. Gideon got no such treat. He's already hit me twice and I was sure things were going to get worse before they got better.

Back on my knees, my bushy tail curled up between my legs, like a thong made from a giant caterpillar, let me feel just a little less naked. Gideon made me bow down, raising my ass. Gideon took the opportunity to step down on the back of my neck, pinning me.

"Gideon, s-sir," I said through clenched teeth as he ground me out like a cigarette.

"What, bitch?"

I got the distinct impression he liked calling me bitch. "Um, I, I'm not going to struggle. Could you maybe take your- OW!" I yelped as the tread on his shoe caught my ear, twisting and bending it. "Please! That hurts!"

He ignored my reasonable pleas and kept grinding his foot on the side of my face while he roughly tugged my tail. He took his foot off and bent down behind me. With one hand he spread my cheeks.

"These are the rules, bitch. You leave this in until you leave the cafeteria. I don't care what you do after that. Vince said I could beat you up if you don't listen."

Damn that one-eared jackass. He would promise something like that. "Understood, sir."

I felt everything as he started to push the ginger root plug into me. A little heavy breathing, but otherwise I kept myself calm so there would be less stretching. There was a little burn, but I was used to it. It's hard to believe how I could feel so relieved about a violent fur shoving something up my ass.

Gideon came back around, looking down at me. "Alright, straighten up, but keep it in you."

I wiggled a little to get more comfortable. It kind of itched.

"Good boy, bitch. How's it feel?"

Definitely itchy. "Uh... sort of uncomfortable." I clenched, trying to stop that weird sensation. "W-what is it supposed- Oh, fuck! I-it's really-" I gasped. That ticklish tingle was starting to burn. A lot!

Gideon watched me squirm. There was nothing I could do to stop it. It was like someone shoved a bunch of fire ants in me.

"Feel that?" he smirked. "That would be the natural irritants seeping into you. You know all about irritants, don't you? Don't you?"

I was hyperventilating, my muscles quivering. "I'm sorry! Let me take it out! I'll never bother you again!" I scratched at my stomach, on the verge of trying to claw my way down to the burning.

"You know the rules," Gideon laughed. "Not til you leave the cafeteria. And before you do, I want you to have a taste of my fully organic meat."

I grabbed for his belt, he let out a startled shout and my speed. I don't think I've ever been this aggressive in trying to suck dick. I licked him to attention quickly, my suffering already had him started. He didn't need to grab my head, I was already bobbing on his length, taking his as deep as he'd go.

I thought Gideon would be distracted. My hand reached between my legs, creeping slowly for my hole. I wasn't going to pull the ginger out, I mean, I was sure he would check. I just wanted to scratch. Well, Gideon is more observant than I would have guessed.

He pulled out of my mouth, leaving me looking like I was making out with an invisible fur. My turn to be surprised at the speed of someone's movements. He slapped me, not as hard as before, but I think that was because most of his blood was going to supporting that massive erection that still dripped with my spit.

"Try that again," he said, "and I will invite the rest of the kitchen to take a turn."

I shook and nodded. Apparently I'd made a lot of enemies by being health conscious. I whimpered, and put my mouth back on him. The searing itch giving me no time to feel self conscious or offended.

When Gideon shot his load I swallowed everything, no complaints, nothing to give him cause to prolong my torture. I sank back on my knees, flexing muscles I never thought I'd need and shifting anxiously from side to side.

He looked down at me. "You're going to remember this next time you bitch about the food."

"Yes, sir." I'd remember this the next time I ate any ginger too.

"Put your pants back on," he said smugly.

"C-can I pleeese take it out? It's soooo uncomfortable," I clasped my hands together, begging. He slapped me around, he made me suck him off, this had to make us even, right? All I did was complain about the food.

"Heh, no. Not until you're out of my cafeteria."

I whimpered, pulling my pants on as fast as I could. "C-can I go now?"

Gideon sighed. "You said your name isn't Ellie?"

"Yeah. It's Elliott Regal. Vince only calls me that because he's an asshole. Everyone else calls me Regal." Or pet, but that was another story.

He laughed. "Alright, Regal. Try not to be such a prick and I won't have to do this again." He pointed to the door.

"Thank you, Gideon." You didn't have do it at all, but I ran out of there taking what I could get.