Just How it Works
Ross let out a shaky breath. Drew it in. Released it. Sniffed a bit. And closed his eyes as he felt a cotton ball dabbing the bare skin of his right arm. The ball soaked in alcohol. And creating a cool, sterilizing sensation.
"Relax ... it won't hurt," the voice lied. "You just have to relax."
The room was dim. Nearly dark.
And he was strapped to a med table.
"We're going to fix you," the voice assured. And the source ... smiled. A forced smile. Reaching for the needle.
Ross closed his eyes and swallowed. He was terrified of needles. Absolutely terrified. He shook his head, eyes welling up.
"If you don't control your breathing, you'll hyperventilate. You need," the voice stressed, "to be awake for this to work. Don't force me to give you any more drugs."
Ross stopped squirming. Holding his breath.
The voice nodded. "Good," it whispered. "Good." And the source grabbed his arm. Pointed the needle. And ...
The bridge was quiet. Except for some beeps and bops. Little, mechanical chirrups.
Herkimer, the grey-furred mouse, drummed his fingers on the Ops panel. Swallowing. Looking around. His nose and whiskers twitching. Finally asking, "What do you think they're doing in there?"
Aria looked up from tactical. "It is not our place to speculate."
"They've been in there for half an hour."
The snow rabbit's ears raised to their full height. "And?"
"Well ... I don't know ... "
"Are you implying something, Lieutenant?"
"No!" he insisted, whiskers twitching.
"Good." The snow rabbit's pure-white paws danced softly on her console. She was very meticulous about her work. Very, very good ... at what she did. And with the Cold War between the snow rabbits and the Arctic foxes now over (the snow rabbits having won ... but at a cost) ... she'd left her home system. Her "break-up" with Oliver, her partner ... had facilitated in her decision to leave. Snow rabbits didn't take "mates." Not in the sense that most furs did. Their social system was ... a complicated one. But, then, a society of emotionally frozen prey ... was bound to be laced with subtle intricacies.
Herkimer looked to her. "Aren't you ever ... curious?"
"Curious?" She looked up.
"Yeah. You know ... do you ever wonder? Ever imagine things? I mean, like ... "
"No."
"No?" the mouse asked quietly.
She met his eyes. Her icy-blue eyes met his deeper blues. "No," she whispered.
A turbo-lift door swished open. Out exiting the ship's doctor. Welly, the skunk. He sighed and slumped into the seat at the science station.
"Busy day?" Herkimer asked.
"Not really."
"Why the sigh?"
"I'm antsy."
"Ah ... "
Aria regarded the two males with bemusement. "I have never understood the warm-furred need," she said, "to be constantly entertained. Constantly diverted. As if you are afraid of facing your own reality."
"I didn't say I was afraid of anything," Welly responded.
"You indicated boredom."
"Hey, Welly," Herkimer injected.
"Hey, what," Welly echoed back.
"Aria and I were trying to guess what Advance and Audrey are doing in his ready room."
"We were doing no such ... "
" ... really?" Welly asked, cutting Aria off. And responding to Herkimer with, "Why? You think they're, uh ... doing the nudge-nudge, wink-wink ... "
Aria scowled. "That is a crude statement."
"Why? What do you call it?" Welly asked, grinning. "Mm?"
"I bet snow rabbits call it 'committing misconduct'," said another voice. Another fur. A jaguar. At helm. The only predator on the senior staff. Solstice, like Luminous, was mostly a prey ship. Though the majority of the furry fleet ... consisted of predator ships. The jaguar grinned, spinning around in her swivel chair. And showing her teeth to the snow rabbit. "Don't you?" she asked, tilting her head.
Aria just squinted her eyes. She had the rank of Sub-commander. Being that she was a member of the snow rabbit militia. Had not attended the Furry Academy back on Home-world. For she wasn't FROM Home-world. Sub-commander was equivalent to ... just above, maybe, a regular commander. The rabbit was, in actuality, second in command of this ship. But ALSO the tactical officer. She served two functions. Had two jobs.
Audrey (the squirrel in the Captain's office) was the Comm officer.
It was Welly, the skunk, who broke the awkward silence with, "Committing misconduct, huh?" A pause. "Well, if they didn't call it anything else ... no-fur would do it."
Herkimer hid his smile.
"May I remind you," Aria said. "ALL of you ... that we are on duty. And, as such, shall refrain from making 'breeding' jibes."
"Jibes," echoed the jaguar (whose name was Advent). "Well ... that's a big word. For a rabbit."
"I suggest," Aria warned coldly, "that you pilot the ship on a straight course. As for your ego ... perhaps you should put it on auto-pilot. You're steering it with a bit too much force. It's becoming transparent."
The jaguar growled from her throat, and ...
... " ... hey!" Welly barked.
The two femmes, from opposite sides of the bridge, bristled.
"Hey," Welly repeated, softer this time. "That's enough. I've the authority to relieve you BOTH of duty ... by declaring you medically unfit. Don't give me a reason to."
"I wouldn't," the jaguar spat, "dream of it ... stripey."
The skunk narrowed his own eyes ... at what amounted to a species-oriented slur. But he didn't respond. He simply sighed and eyed the science controls.
Herkimer, from Ops, fidgeted. Whiskers twitching. Hardly able to keep still. Being a mouse, basically.
All of the furs waiting to find out what was keeping their Captain.
The stars streamed by outside the ready-room window. Solstice was at warp.
"Well, you know ... it's, uh ... a bit funny."
"Is it?"
The squirrel cleared her throat. "Well, not really," she admitted, wilting under the deadpan look of her superior. "Um ... here," she said, handing over the computer pad. "I haven't told anyone. I was running a check on the comm channels, and ... but I didn't let anyone know. I was afraid a panic would break out."
Advance looked it over.
"At first, I didn't detect it. It was so buried in layers of sub-space static."
The desert mouse squinted.
"It's human," the squirrel whispered. Taking a slow, slow breath. "From the specifications Luminous gave the Furry Command. That future ship they found, like, two years ago? Remember?"
"Vaguely. It was kept a secret from everyone but ... command-level officers."
"Yeah. Anyway, it's the only match in the database."
"A derelict human ship?"
"Five light years from here," the squirrel, Audrey, offered. "And, sir, I just ... "
The mouse looked up. Raised his brow a bit.
" ... I'm not sure about this. I mean, I know we're on the edge of known space, but ... I don't know."
"You don't wanna investigate this, do you?" the mouse asked.
Audrey shook her head quietly. "Let Luminous do it."
"They're a week away from here."
"They know about all this stuff ... "
Advance sighed. "We have predators on this ship. They'll inform the ... "
"Let them," Audrey interrupted. "Sir ... the predators are ALWAYS looking for a fight. You know they're SCARED of the humans. The predators never admit fear. But from what Luminous learned of the future ... "
"POSSIBLE future," Advance interrupted. "Possible. It was changed when ... "
"Still ... the humans are out there. The predators want to launch a preemptive strike. If we investigate, they'll get wind of it, and they'll send more ships, and ... "
"They'll get wind of it, Aud, regardless."
"We should stay away," the squirrel insisted, leaning forward. "I have a bad feeling."
"You're not a bat. You're not telepathic."
"No," she whispered. "But I don't need to be to ... have a gut instinct."
"And if we all followed every gut instinct we got, we'd be no better off," the mouse assured. "No, we have to go. It's derelict, right?"
"Supposedly," Audrey whispered. Indicating she had her doubts.
"Well ... have Advent set a course."
The squirrel sighed. Nodded.
"Aud."
"Mm?" She raised her muzzle a bit. Met the desert mouse's eyes.
"Get some rest, okay? You seem very ... agitated."
She nodded weakly. And stood. Pausing. "I'll try," was all she said. Going for the swish-open doors.
Welly, by now, was sitting next to Herkimer. And whispered into the mouse's ear (as Audrey left the ready room). "Now, see, if they WERE committing misconduct ... HE would've left first."
"What? Why?"
"That's just how it works."
The mouse blinked. Frowning. "But it's HIS office. Why would he leave it first? Wouldn't that be MORE suspicious?"
"Mm ... " The skunk faltered. "Uh ... "
"We weren't doing," Audrey hissed at them (as she passed by for the Comm station), "anything in there. We were talking."
"You two are SO alike," Welly said. "Don't tell me there's not a spark."
"Muzzle it."
"Ooh," went Advent, from the front of the bridge. Purring. "Fur fight."
"Is there a problem?" Advance asked, emerging onto the bridge.
All the furs sat up straighter. Pretending to busy themselves. All but Audrey, who gave Advent an exasperated look.
"We're in empty space. Hopping between worlds. We're a bit restless," Welly answered honestly. "We're relying on you for our excitement."
"Mm ... I don't think I want to ask HOW I'm exciting you ... do I?"
The skunk grinned. "Probably not."
"Mm ... well," said the mouse, settling into the Captain's chair. "We do have a problem. Maybe. I'm not sure. But I don't want this all around the ship, and I do NOT," he emphasized, "want it TOLD to anyone off the ship." He looked around. Specifically focusing his stares on Advent and Aria. "I have no idea WHAT we're going to find, and I don't need wild rumors fanning old fires ... that needn't be burning."
"What?" Welly blinked, confused.
"What I'm telling you is a secret," the Captain explained more concisely. A pause. A sigh. "Audrey picked up a signal from a ... derelict ship. Five light years from here. The ship, from all the scans she ran, appears to be ... well, human."
"Human?" Advent perked. Bristling slightly.
The other furs blinked.
"No human has ever been seen ALIVE by a fur before. Our encounters with them all came from Luminous ... and the humans they found were all dead, from the future ... you know, I don't even know. We know nothing about this species. Only that they exist. And that, sometime in the future, they're supposed to destroy all furs."
"If you believe in time travel. The snow rabbit science directorate has ... "
" ... declared that time travel is impossible," Advent finished for Aria. "But it doesn't matter. The humans exist. They must be destroyed."
"We're not going to be destroying anyone," Advance said calmly. "But we will be investigating ... we'll find this ship. We'll ... I don't know." A sigh. He rubbed his eyes. Nose and whiskers twitching. "We'll go to yellow alert. We'll keep our shields raised. And we'll go check it out ... and we'll be under radio silence, so ... just stay calm. Don't panic." A sigh. "And, yes," he said, before anyone else could make the joke, "I know that's rich ... coming from a mouse. But I'm the Captain. So, I can play against type."
Welly gave the desert mouse a playful thumbs up.
Advance rolled his eyes and continued, "We'll get there in a day and a half, I should think ... so, until then ... rest up. I have a feeling we'll all need it."
A few hours later. And Audrey was alone in the mess hall. In a corner. Her bushy, mahogany-colored tail hanging behind her. Looking a bit flat. She hadn't used any shampoo and conditioner this morning. Just water.
"This seat taken?"
The squirrel looked up. Blinked. "Bell-Bell."
The doe raised her eyes.
"Oh, no. No ... it's free. Sit. I mean, if you want ... "
"I do," the deer said politely, giving a smile. And sitting across from Audrey. "I think Chef cooked the broccoli and cauliflower in the same pot today."
The squirrel blinked.
"I can tell."
"Oh. Well ... I guess."
The doe situated her tray. And picked up her knife and fork. And started cutting little bites of her vegetables. Pushing her fork-tines into the bites. Lifting them to her muzzle and chew-chewing. "Mm ... " A swallow. She'd drizzled some shredded cheese on top of it all. Which had semi-melted. "Mm. You know," the deer said, swallowing again. "Normally, when some-fur's alone in a corner ... it means they're upset."
"I'm not upset," the squirrel whispered weakly.
"No?"
"I'm not upset," was the repetition.
The deer nodded. She was the ship's chief engineer. "You're not eating," she noticed.
The squirrel made a face. Her whiskers and nose twitching.
The doe shrugged an apology. "Just trying," she offered, "to help." A pause. "Trying to be a friend. Trying to be here for someone I ... "
"Are you done?"
"Almost," the doe said, tilting her head slightly. "Is it working?"
"Sending me on a guilt-trip, you mean?"
A sly nod.
"A bit," the squirrel admitted quietly. "Furs," she said weakly, unable to keep the smile off her lips. "Always caring about me."
"The nerve," Bell-Bell said, grinning.
"Yeah ... " The squirrel looked away. To the windows. To the streaming stars. And took a slow breath. And looked back to her friend. "Shouldn't you be in engineering?"
"A deer's gotta eat."
"I suppose she does, at that," Audrey answered quietly. Scanning the doe's tray. "No salt lick?"
"Saving it for dessert."
"Yummy ... "
"You trying to distract me?"
"Me? Trying?"
"Aud, come on ... what's wrong. You've been moping around for days. You didn't shampoo your fur, either ... "
"So, what, I'm unkempt?"
"You always keep your pelt shiny and soft. I've never known you to let it get dull ... "
"I don't know." The squirrel fidgeted in her seat, watching the deer cut apart and chew on bits of broccoli and cauliflower. "It's this human stuff. Bothers me. I wish we'd stay away ... "
"But that only came to light this morning. You've been in a funk for ... like, three days now. There's something else ... "
"Mm ... just lonely, I guess."
"You got eighty-two crew-furs. You see us every day."
"You KNOW what I mean," Audrey whispered.
"Yeah," the doe said, meeting her eyes. "I do. I was just waiting for YOU to admit it."
The squirrel made a face.
"So, you want a mate?"
"The mate I want ... is out of reach."
"The Captain?"
Audrey sighed, putting her paws on the edge of the table. Looking down. "I'm not even a command-level officer, you know? I'm a junior-grade lieutenant. I'm a Comm officer."
"Furs on all ships in the fleet," Bell-Bell assured her, "pair up and ... do what furs do. They all make it work. I'm sure you can, too ... he knows, right, that you like him?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"And he hasn't asked me. Hasn't asked me to dinner. To his quarters. Anything ... he should ask, right? He's the male."
A shake of the head. "Aud, really ... he's also a mouse. They're born subs."
"Never mated a mouse ... "
"Neither have I. It's just ... common knowledge. If you want to mate a mouse, you gotta TELL them ... don't ask. Tell."
"That's awfully ... predatory."
"No, it's just," the deer assured. "Look, I'm sure he likes you, right? You've at least picked up on that much ... "
A quiet nod.
"Then take initiative. You gotta be the dom here ... "
"You make it sound so ... "
" ... kinky?" A helpless smile.
"Instinctive," Audrey supplied. For it seemed a friendlier word.
"Hey, my minor at the university was inter-species psychology. I know what I'm talking about," the doe assured, picking up her water glass. Sipping from it. She swallowed and cleared her throat. "As for the 'he's my superior officer' thing ... as I said, it happens on every ship. If it works, it works. If it doesn't ... well ... wouldn't you rather try? Wouldn't you rather it did?"
The squirrel blinked. Whiskers twitching. "Yeah," she mouthed.
"A third thing," the doe added, swallowing, closing her hoof-like hands around her utensils.
Audrey looked up. "Yeah?"
"Don't look for perfection."
"What do you ... "
"I think your troubles," the doe said quietly, "in finding mates ... you know, you've always had that problem, right?"
The squirrel didn't answer.
The doe waited.
Audrey sighed and nodded.
"Well, I just think it's because you want your ideal. You want perfection. Sometimes, you just gotta find a fur you're compatible with ... compatible ENOUGH, you know, with, and ... try and make it work. Let time bring you closer. Let time MAKE the match."
"Time?"
"Or God. But they're one and the same, really ... "
The squirrel bit her lip at this.
"Now, I'm NOT saying go for the first fur who's available. That's just ... desperation. That's a mistake. But if you like someone, don't worry about ... oh, they're not my dream. We don't match up in every way. Don't ... focus on the kinks. Those will work themselves out," the doe assured, "in due time. Just takes some patience."
"I am the QUEEN," Audrey assured lamely, "of patience."
"Squirrels couldn't even be PRINCESSES of patience, Aud. I know a fib when I hear it." A friendly smile.
"Who asked you, anyway?" Audrey replied, smiling back.
A playful shrug. "Just tell me you'll snag him, alright?"
"Alright." A moment of quiet. "I got a few lures up my sleeves."
A giggle. "Mm ... " Chew-chew, went the doe. "Mm ... and you might wanna groom yourself, too. That always helps."
"I'm perfectly presentable."
"Not," the doe whispered cheekily, "if you want the male to bite." She'd quickly gotten through her vegetables. Was almost done with her meal.
"What about you, then?" Audrey asked, trying to turn the conversation.
"What about me?"
"Who you gonna mate? Got your eye on anyone?"
"Not sure."
"Aren't you lonely, too?"
The doe, after a moment of quiet, stood with her now-empty tray. "I hide it well," she said, a bit sadly. "Don't you think?" And she turned and left. To go back to engineering. Her engines needed her.
The squirrel sighed softly and watched her friend go. Why was it that Bell-Bell always felt the need to give help and advice to other furs ... and never followed it herself? She spent all her time in engineering. What was her problem ... why were some furs like that?
You're her friend, aren't you? Find out, the squirrel told herself. Shouldn't be too hard. You are the "queen of patience," remember?
Audrey rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me," she told herself.
Solstice, for several hours, had been heading toward the "derelict" human ship. They were now a day away.
And Advent, the jaguar, was nearing the end of her shift. Leaving the helm (which was pretty much on auto-pilot, anyway), she wandered around a bit. Stopping behind Herkimer, the grey-furred mouse.
The mouse tensed a bit. Not turning around from what he was doing, but simply smelling the feline behind him. Simply sensing her. Simply saying, "What do you want?"
"Aw, come on, Herk. Just paying you a visit."
"I'm not Herk."
"Herkimer. Herk. Herky," said the big cat, grinning with her teeth. The jaguar's fur was a golden color, with little specks and spots of black ALL over. Her pupils were slitted. Her tail was lazy. And her senses were keen.
The mouse, whiskers twitching, turned a bit. Sighed a bit, too.
"You've got an unusual name, mouse. You gotta grant that."
"A lot of furs have unusual names."
"Not really," the feline confided. "Not like yours, anyway. Herkimer. Mm ... you know, though, what I like about your name?"
The mouse, eyes wide, ears swiveling, looked up. Now facing the jaguar.
"The '-ck' sound ... very, very guttural," she whispered. "Very ... primal. '-ck' ... very effective in drawing attention. Like the '-ck' in fuck. A lot of furs hear it, and the think, 'how crude,' but ... what wonderful roughness. What ... divine," the feline whispered, "vocalization."
Herkimer blinked. Whiskers twitching.
"Cat got your tongue?" A slow, spreading grin. Bigger than the grin from before.
"Uh ... Advent, I, uh ... I'm really supposed to be working."
The jaguar made a "pssh" sound. "You're off-duty in two minutes." And, as an afterthought, "So am I."
"Uh ... " The mouse's heartbeat had increased. Had shot up. "Hmm."
"That's adorable," the jaguar purred, so that only he could hear her. "Mm ... mouse ... " She locked gazes with him. Her serious, golden eyes ... like hypnotizing orbs.
The mouse got caught in their tide. "Mm?" he went weakly, unblinking. Staring.
"I gotta a hankerin' to play some cat an' mouse. Problem is," she said daintily, "I need a mouse. Would you ... help me out?"
Herkimer blinked. "Whoa," he whispered, blinking some more. "Look, I'm flattered, but, uh ... I don't believe in that."
"In what?"
"Casual yiff. It has to ... "
"Oh, I know all about the prey belief of ... how you imprint souls with each yiff, and ... how it has to be for love. Spiritual damage. All that. It's very charming. And I respect it, mouse. I respect it. That's why I'm asking to mate you ... you are mate-less, yes?"
Herkimer fiddled with his paws. Really caught off-guard. "Um ... yeah."
"Well, so am I."
The mouse frowned and fidgeted more. "Predator/prey mate-ships NEVER work."
"That's not true. Sometimes, they do."
"You've never shown an interest in me!"
"I'm showing it NOW," the cat emphasized, growling a bit (in frustration).
"And how am I to know," Herkimer whispered smartly, "that it'll still be there in the morning?"
"Cause we're in a tin can hurtling through space. Where's it gonna go?" Her smile was disarming. And it faded. Into something a bit more desperate. Her voice very, very hushed. "I need to breed, okay." Her whiskers quivered. It had been ... too long. Months. FAR too long. Since dry-dock. Last time, for her, had been ... four months ago? How many months? Back when they'd brought Luminous home. Before heading back out into deep space. She'd hooked up with a predator at a party ... a wolf. Predators believed in casual yiff. Would indulge her. There were some predators on this ship, but she didn't care for them. They weren't her type.
Anyway, she needed something stable ... needed ...
... some-fur to manipulate and control. Prey.
He glanced at her paw. Which was shaking with contained energy.
"Most of the prey on this ship, they stay away from me. It's just ... prey habit. To avoid the predator. You're on the senior staff. I see you EVERY day. We talk EVERY day. You know ... I looked over the available options, and I decided you were my best match." She seemed so sincere. Was she?
"I'm flattered," he said. His tone a bit unreadable.
"You should be," she assured him. "Now ... Herky," she whispered, pleading. Trying to melt him with her purrs. "Herky," she said, blowing a warm breath right into his ear.
"Ah," was the response. The mouse sucked in air. Held himself still. And exhaled. "Oh," he breathed.
"You like?" She brought a paw to his thin, pink, naked ear. The big, dishy lobe of his ear. "Erogenous ... no?"
"Advent ... "
"Just give it a chance, okay? Mm? Furs are starting to pair off. I've seen it. Audrey's gunning for the Captain. Welly's got his eyes on Bell-Bell ... even though Bell-Bell doesn't know it. We're at the point in our mission where ... furs are starting to pair off. I don't wanna be the only one on this ship without a mate. I don't wanna be left out. I NEED ... I need it," she whispered, not saying what 'it' was, but ... the mouse could easily understand. It's not like he didn't feel it, too. He WAS a fur, after all.
"So, I'm, like, your desperation pick?"
"No. No," the jaguar hushed. "No, I told you ... I analyzed it all, and ... you're my best match."
"Look, I ... "
"Do you two," Aria interrupted, arching a brow (from the other side of the bridge), "wish to share your conversation with the rest of us?"
"What's it to you?" Advent growled back.
"You were off-duty three minutes ago. I am simply curious," the rabbit replied calmly, with snowy demeanor, "as to what's keeping you glued to the Comm station." Aria's eyes looked from Advent to Herkimer. And then back to Advent.
"We'll be going now. Nosy-nose!" Advent accused.
Aria twitched her nose. Squinting at the predator's childishness. Really, some furs ...
"Come on, Herky," said the feline, grabbing Herkimer's paw. And the mouse, still a bit bewildered (but not exactly putting up a fight) ... was led to the turbo-lift.
The doors opening. And the cat announcing, "C-deck." Her quarters were on C-deck.
Bell-Bell kicked open the door to the access tube ... with her hooves. She'd been crawling around the tubes for the past hour, basically. Running weekly systems checks. Looking things over. There were things that, visually, one could pick up on ... that maybe the scanners would miss. Regardless, they were HER systems. And she made it a point to know them by heart.
Slipping out hooves and legs first, the doe wriggled into a corridor on G-deck. Sighing, at a crouch. And shutting and sealing the access hatch. And standing, and ... " ... oh," she went. An exhale. "Didn't see you there."
"Mm ... I definitely saw YOU," the skunk replied.
"I'm sure you did," she whispered gently. Pausing. "I'm just on my way back to engineering. Gotta wrap up a few things. Then I'm gonna go back to my quarters."
"Not the mess hall?" asked Welly. The doctor. The skunk.
"I've been in there twice today already. Thought I'd use the food processor," she said, "for a change. I know it's not as REAL, the processed food, but ... it's a better variety."
"Yeah? Like, what ... what are you in the mood for?"
"I dunno. Heh ... to be honest? I don't know. I'm just tired, is all."
The skunk nodded.
"What about you? You spend all your free time lurking in the bowels of the ship?"
"Just doing some walking. I like to walk around the ship, you know ... instead of running on those treadmills in the gym."
A quiet nod on her part. And she bent to pick up her tool-kit. "Well," she said softly.
"Yeah," the skunk replied.
And Bell-Bell nodded again.
The two furs just stood there. By themselves in the corridor.
"Breakfast? My place? 0800?"
"Sure," said the doe, before she could stop herself (and before she'd even realized what the question was).
"Great!" the skunk declared, and he started to pad away.
"Hey," the doe whispered. "Hey, wait ... wait." A blink of confusion. "What just happened here?" she yelled after the skunk.
"I don't know. We'll have to find out!" the skunk yelled back, disappearing around a corner.
Bell-Bell shook her head. Maybe yiff-deprivation did that to a fur. Dulled her reflexes. "I've just been pounced by a skunk," she realized, shaking her head again. And pausing. Well ... why was she shaking her head?
Keep moving, girl. Keep moving ...
She hurriedly walked back to engineering, hooves making a friction sound on the carpet of the floor. Suddenly, she had plans.
She would have to go to bed early tonight. Generally, she wasn't a morning fur.
The jaguar ran her paws up and down the mouse's sides. Up and down. Slowly. Softly. Through the grey, demure fur. The mouse's shirt on the floor. His pants undone, but ... lingering around his hips.
Herkimer's eyes were closed. He simply had, for the moment, surrendered himself to catching air. And releasing it. Catching air. And releasing ...
" ... it's just something I've always wanted. Love," the jaguar whispered, "with a mouse. I just ... we're perfect opposites. You know?" She purred into the back of his neck. Wearing a white bra. And her panties. And nothing more. Her clothing, like his, had begun to find itself in a pile on the floor.
"Mm ... mm-hmm ... "
"Mm," she purred, running her nose along his neck. Finding his spine. And running her nose and lips down that line. Down to the middle of his back. And her paws going to his pants. Pulling them down. And reaching round the front of his briefs. "Ah," she went. Feeling his mouse-hood.
"Oh," was his slight, barely-audible breath. He rose to the tips of his foot-paws.
"Oh, Herky," she breathed. "Let me call you Herky ... " She kneaded his furry scrotum. From outside the white, cottony fabric of his briefs. Keeping the mouse stimulated enough so that he stayed, panting, on his toes.
A swallow. A nod.
"Mm ... thanks. Mm ... " A purr. "I just, you know ... I just NEED prey. I know predator/prey mate-ships often fail, but ... I've heard of some that haven't. I heard there's a feline on Luminous. She mated a rodent. How come I can't? I can be a good mate for you ... "
The mouse just nodded.
The golden-furred, black-spotted cat began to peel the mouse's underwear off. Pulling it down. "Oh, yeah ... " She gripped his cock. "Oh ... mousey ... "
Herkimer squeaked airily. Sinking down to the pads of his foot-paws. Knees wobbling. The jaguar's strong, clawed paw completely gripped the mouse's pink, stiff penis. And her thumb wagged very softly (back and forth) over the smooth, tipped head. He squeaked ... struggling for quiet breaths ...
"Mm," she purred. "Mm ... " Her muzzle was to the side of his neck. Suck, suck. Huffing, "I love ... oh ... a c-cut cock." Her paw squeezed.
"Uhn," Herkimer weakly whined. He was helpless. She'd been the PERFECT predator. She'd played him. Lured him. And here he was ... naked, whining in pleasure, and on his way to imprinting souls with her. A spiritual act that, once done, was ... permanent. Their soul-prints would be on each other. Always. This was so intimate ... so, so intimate. "Uhhnn ... " But, oh, felt so, so good. "Mm ... mm ... m-mates ... "
"Course. Course, baby," Advent purred. "We're mates ... don't worry. I know how mice are about fucking outside mate-ships ... mm ... I wanna try. Don't worry. I'm not gonna trick you into sinning ... "
"W-why ... "
"I told you. I wanna mouse ... " She pumped his cock, in slow, firm motions, with her paw.
Gurgle!
The jaguar chuckled to herself. Typical male ... enough tweaks to his 'joystick,' and he was putty in her paws ... their penis was their biggest weakness. But it made them SO cute. And he was all hers. What could a female feline DO with a male mouse? Mm ... mm-hmm ... oh, she was serious about mating him. She wanted him to trust her. She WANTED him ... for yiff. Maybe she didn't love him, but ... nor did he love her. So ... bottom line: the religious mouse wouldn't yiff outside a mate-ship. The jaguar needed to breed. Furs on the ship were starting to pair off. Her options were narrowing. She wanted to 'take care' of a mouse. And his want of yiff was such that ... he'd agreed to her proposition. End of story. And ... and WHY was she THINKING right now?
While the mouse gurgled and nose-sniffed, eyes lost in honey-glazed feeling ... the jaguar used her free paw (the one not stroking her new catch) to tug off her bra. And to pull down her panties.
They were both in the fur now.
"Herky ... "
"Mm ... mmm?"
"I got something for you."
"What?" His voice was dazed. His sheath-less mouse-hood dribbling pre. It slicked her fingers.
"I got something for you," she repeated, and she slid her paw away from him.
The mouse sighed (with an almost-disappointment). And he slumped. Slumped onto the bed, rump to the air. Foot-paws still on the ground.
The jaguar gently slipped a collar around his neck.
The mouse blinked, wriggling around. Sitting up, putting his paws to his neck.
"Do you like it?"
The mouse blinked, trying to look.
"Here ... here," she said, tugging him off the bed. Leading him to the mirror in the bathroom. "Do you like it?"
It was a simple collar. Silvery-blue.
"I ask that you wear it," she said quietly.
"Why?" A blink. His whiskers twitched.
"So they'll KNOW you're mine."
"But ... I'm not your pet." He looked to her, blinking. Whiskers twitching. "I'm your mate. We're equals."
"You're also prey, darling. I need you to wear it. It's ... think of it like a mating ring. Except ... not a ring, but a collar. It lets other predators know who you belong to."
"But I don't BELONG to anyone ... "
"Yes, you do," she insisted. "Me. I'm your mate."
The mouse opened his muzzle. Closed it. "Mm ... take it off." He tugged at it.
"I hid the key."
"What?" He twitched. Starting to panic.
"Herky ... baby ... calm down. Mm?" She pulled him into a hug. She shushed him. "Are you," she whispered, "embarrassed to have a predator as your mate?"
"That's not what ... "
"Well, it is, isn't it ... your tradition states it's improper to yiff outside of ... "
"It's my FAITH. NOT," the mouse emphasized, flustered, "tradition. It's faith ... "
"Alright, alright," the jaguar whispered. "I'm sorry."
"It's not ... it's real," he said. "God doesn't want us swapping souls if it's not for ... "
"Hey, okay, I understand ... look, but you need to breed. So do I. We're furs. We're single ... well, WERE. And I love," she said carefully, "mice. Do you love felines?"
"I love that ... you want to love me," was his whisper. "I want to love you. I just ... you caught me off-guard."
"So, we're not sinning. We're mates. It's okay, right? We're mates."
"Yeah," the mouse said, sniffling.
"You don't have to worry. I'm just saying that it's a predator habit to collar our mates."
"I've never seen a predator with a collar."
"We only collar PREY mates. Or we're SUPPOSED to," she said. "Some of the more prey-like predators," she said ... " ... they forget they're stronger. They forget the natural order of things."
"Why? Am I ... subservient?"
"Herky, just ... it's just what I want," the jaguar said, not answering the question. "I want you to wear it. It's a 'keep off the fur' sign for any predator you come across. Plus, it's ... looks erotic," she whispered, "on you."
"Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah," she assured, purring, guiding him back into the bedroom. Back to the bed.
"Really?" he whispered shyly, airily.
"Mm-hmm. All you need," she said, grinning, "is a gold, little hoop in one ear, and ... "
"I don't want earrings. They damage your hearing later on. It's proven in mice ... it hurts the lobes, and ... "
"I'm teasing. I'm teasing," she soothed. "Mm ... " Paws all over his body. "Look, I know you're wary, Herky, but ... we both need someone. You know? We can make it work. We can find a lot of affection. Get to know each other ... " Stroking his sides. "You're prey. I'm a predator. Your instinct is to submit to me ... so, just do it," she said simply. Softly. Stroking his penis.
"Oh ... ooh ... "
"There you go," she whispered softly. Stroke, stroke.
"Huh!"
"That's it ... good boy ... " A playful push.
The mouse hitting the mattress, and rolling onto his back, huffing. Wriggling into a comfortable nestle in the sheets.
She crawled over him. On all fours. Breasts hanging and heaving. "You're a farm-mouse, yeah ... "
A nod. A swallow.
"Are all mice farm-mice? Aren't there city mice, too ... "
"Yeah ... uh ... they're called rats ... "
The jaguar giggled. Amused. "Oh ... " Their furry bodies lying horizontal, they felt their paws all over each other. Their bodies wriggled, writhed. Their tails snaked and noses sniffed. They writhed, rolling a bit ... to the right. "Oh ... " Her loins ached. As independent as she was, as much a predator as she was, as many toys as she had ... her loins ached to be filled by a real male. She NEEDED to be bred. "Put it ... put it," she huffed, unable to finish. She sucked air.
He'd already gone for it. He'd been poking his cock between her legs ... had found it. Her vagina came, smothering him. Slick, steamy, and easy. Hump, hump ... both of them on their sides. Her exposed leg raised.
"Uhh ... huh-uh!" The feline wriggled. The mouse's cock was five inches. Average. But it fit so perfectly. Was being used with such relish. Hump, hump ... squish. Slurp ...
The mouse, chittering, sucking her muzzle like a maniac, humped at her ...
"Oh, yeah ... " A huff. And the feline, growling, wriggled up and pinned the mouse (with a good deal of force) to his back. Straddled him. Kept one paw on his chest as she rode, gyrating her hips, letting his rod of blood-filled flesh slide deeply into her vaginal tunnel. Little hisses of burning pleasure ... as she clawed at the mouse's chest.
He squeaked and wriggled.
"Oh ... oh ... that's it," she hissed, now fingering at her clit. The mouse wriggle-squeaked beneath her. She hissed loudly, batting her paws at him (softly, though ... so as not to hurt him). "Mm, mmm ..." Rise, fall ... gyrate. Oh ... she was in control. Was ...
... losing control. The mouse lost it. Squealed and shivered as his cock gave way. Sowing her. Each spurt of semen creating a shockwave of pleasure for the male.
She followed with a roar. With warm, flittering spasms. With hissing, joyous huffs of, "Fuck ... fuck ... "
The mouse was in a daze.
And the jaguar, through the haze of her afterglow, rejoiced.
He was her prey. And had NO idea what he'd just been swept away by.