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8.

I hit the door like a bat out of hell, bursting into the cafeteria. I came to a skidding stop, avoiding a collision with the back of a guard by inches. That was a bullet dodged, I thought.

I walked as fast as I could without drawing too much attention. My eyes were drawn across the room to Dimitri. By the time I got to our table my palms were slick with sweat, my ears were plastered down, and my tail kept trying to tuck itself between my legs. My body was already trying to raise the white flag.

I sat down, keeping my hands folded in my lap, staring down at them. I listened to the dull roar of the crowded room and waited for Dimitri to berate me. It wasn't a long wait.

"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

"Sorry," I took a guess at what he wanted to here.

"For what?"

I really wasn't in the mood to play twenty-questions. If I didn't resolve this here and now, once we were back in our cell, I was a dead fox. "For everything, sir. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about this. But it wasn't really my choice. You told me to go by the Pack when we're in the Yard, and, and," I sighed and looked up at Dimitri, "they said I had to give them money if I wanted to stay alive."

Dimitri put down his spoon. "So you're saying it's my fault? Because I let you go out in the Yard?"

"No sir!"

"Then whose fault is it that you're a whore?"

I started to say Vince, but thought better of it. Besides not wanting to be in the middle of a feud, that wasn't what Dimitri wanted. "My fault, sir. It's my fault I'm weak."

Dimitri grunted in agreement. "That's not even why I'm fuckin' pissed."

I twitched involuntarily.

Dimitri picked up his spoon, waving it at me like he might scoop my heart out at any moment. "You're a slow learner, you know that?"

I nodded meekly, feeling very small in his presence.

"Give me your hand."

I stared in horror, fully believing he was going to impale my hand with a spoon. Dimitri put the spoon on his tray as I slowly reached out with my trembling hand. Dimitri grabbed hold of my wrist and a good portion of my forearm. His massive paw dwarfed mine.

"Let's try this: what are you?"

I tried to pulled away out of instinct. I would have had a better chance of bending one of the cell's bars. "A whore?" I squeaked.

"Wrong answer." His grip tightened. "Before all else. What. Are. You," he growled the words.

I damn sure knew he didn't want me to say artist, and as much as I wanted to, just to see his reaction, I was not suicidal. And at the moment I was too wrapped up in maintaining control of my bladder to be witty. "A fox?"

His hand tightened. I could feel the bones in my wrist start rubbing together. I managed to stifle a scream, but if it wasn't for the noise, my high pitched squeal would have brought the guard's attention.

"Wrong."

"Prisoner!" I gasped.

Dimitri twisted. I couldn't hide the pain any longer, sobbing a bellow of pure agony. "Please! You're gonna break my arm!"

Dimitri was unmoved by my tears. "Wrong. Answer."

I slammed my free hand down on the table, lifting off my chair and trying to twist my body to keep my arm from getting torn off. I suddenly knew the answer. An island of clarity in an endless sea of pain. "P-pet! Your pet!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Dimitri released me. I cradled my arm, flexing my fingers. A tingling sensation came with the the return blood flow in my hand. I let my head rest on the table. "I'm your pet," I repeated, just so he knew I had the right answer. I stared down the table, the felines closest to us were all watching the scene. I didn't care.

"You are my pet. My property," Dimitri spoke. It might have been wishful thinking on my part, but I think some of the anger was gone from his voice. "Who owns your mouth?"

I lifted my head off the table. I didn't want him be able to grab another part of me. "You own it, sir." I blinked away the blurriness in my eyes. The bastard was getting what he wanted.

"And your ass?"

"You own it."

"Then why do think I'm pissed off at you?"

"Because I didn't ask you for permission to let other furs use them."

Dimitri smiled. "And then you didn't tell me. If you would have come to me when this started, you wouldn't be in as much pain as you are now."

"I shouldn't have kept it from you, sir."

"Exactly. It makes me think you're dishonest. How the fuck can I trust you if you're keeping secrets?" He shook his head in disappointment. "When you were worshiping my feet this morning, how the fuck do I know you weren't just acting?"

I let go of my arm. The blood drained from my face. For a moment of terror I wondered if he knew how right he was. Letting him believe I was completely broken, resigned to his total domination of me, was the only way I could see of avoiding his wrath. If he started thinking I was manipulating him, he might decide I make a lousy pet and put me down. Or, worse, put me through some kind of warped obedience program he thinks up, and I really would become his broken lapdog. I can't take that much pain, I'd break under pressure!

"Please, sir, I'm so sorry! I promise I'll never hide anything from you again." I stood up, my legs shaking as I wondered if I should drop to my knees, but then he wouldn't see me over the tabletop. "Believe me, I'm your pet!" I put my good hand up signaling to give me a second. I ran around the end of the cafeteria table so I was on the same side as him.

I was drawing attention to myself again. It was an expensive trade off, but I'd rather a bunch of felines I'd probably never get to know think I'm pathetic, than live under the threat of the pain I'd endure if Dimitri thought I wasn't his devoted pet. Dimitri turned on the long bench, watching me as I made my way to him. I dropped to my knees. "I'm your pet. What can I do to prove it? Do you want me to eat off the floor? I'll suck your cock, right here, in front of everyone. Or, or do you want me to lick your feet again?" I clasped my hands together like I was in prayer.

Dimitri looked down at me. He either didn't hear all the laughter directed at me, or he didn't care. That look of satisfaction I thought I saw start to show earlier was beginning to make a comeback.

A voice I didn't recognize shouted at me. "Get the fuck back to your seat."

I didn't take my eyes off Dimitri. I needed him to believe I was devoted to him.

That voice again. "I'm not going to tell you again."

I stayed on my knees, silently pleading for his forgiveness.

A hand grabbed me by the collar. I thrashed my arm at the intruder, earning a hard yank that choked me and nearly ripped my shirt. I turned to confront the fur. "Get the hell-" I stopped cold. It was a guard. "Sorry, sir!"

The cold eyes of a hyena appraised me. "You got yourself a write up."

Fuck, I thought. That was not part of the plan. He walked me around the table, taking my name and number, saying I'd get a copy of the write up sometime this evening. I begged his leniency, but my heart wasn't really in it. He roughly shoved me down on the table's bench. I looked over to Dimitri. That assshole was really smiling now.

He shook his head and laughed, "Slow learner. But you do try. As long as you never lie, or hide something from me again, I think we can let this go."

I forced a smile. Wasn't he generous? Nearly breaking my arm, letting me humiliate myself and get in trouble with a guard. "Thank you sir." I reached for my tray of now cold eggs. Dimitri pulled it away before I could get to it.

"You still need to be punished. I'll let you know when you can eat again."

I pouted and rubbed my sore arm. There was no point arguing with him.

When Dimitri finished the last of his breakfast he looked at me. "What did you do with the skunk?"

He was testing me. Or maybe making a point, that I wasn't allowed to keep things from him, even intimate things like this. "I gave him a blow job," I said quietly.

"Who's bigger, me or the skunk?"

"You are, sir. A lot bigger."

He chuckled as I stroked his ego. "Damn right."

I flexed my fingers again. Dimitri saw me wince. "I didn't feel anything snap," he assured me. "It might be a strain. I'll let you run some cold water on it, when we get back to the cell."

"Thank you, sir." I kept reminding myself there was a difference between what I had to say and do to stay alive, and what I believed. As long as I could remember that, I'd be ok, I told myself.

"And, you can keep your pillow."

I looked up at the tiger. Damn him, I really was thankful for that. "Thank you," I said with more conviction, "I sorry I got you mad."

He just gave me a smile. I didn't get my eggs back, though.

***

The swelling went down after letting the cool water from the sink soak my wrist, but I was cold and hungry when we went out to the Yard. Dimitri didn't let me eat lunch. I wasn't sure when he'd stop this stupid punishment. The candy bar I'd gotten from the skunk was tempting, but I swore it would be a last resort.

"Don't forget what we talked about," Dimitri cautioned me.

It wasn't so much a talk as a lecture. He said I could keep my "job," because if any one was going to get the pleasure of beating the shit out of me, it'd be him. But I had to tell Vince that Dimitri's orders came first. He didn't bother to ask me who it was I was working for, he just said to make it clear to the Pack.

All my worries seemed to fade away when I saw Hash. He was nodding at something Vince was saying, so he didn't notice me until I was next to him. The smile on his face when he saw me made my heart flutter.

Vince interrupted what could have been a moment. "How'd it go?"

I shrugged. "It was fine. But could you, maybe, give me a heads up next time? You got me in trouble with my cellmate."

"The fuck," Vince returned my shrug. "I told you to let me get you out of there."

"I'm starting to adjust." Not a lie, but I wasn't off to a great start putting my Dimitri theories into practice.

"When I can, I'll try to give you a heads up, but you know how things are," Vince said, not fully appreciating how tenuous my position was. "Oh, you've got a date later."

"What?"

"A lion, what was his name?"

Greg knew. "Sanders. He paid a good price, so let him fuck you how ever he wants, and give him a good show. Otherwise, Vince'll let me give you some motivation."

I looked to Vince. "When? Where? What if Dimitri says no?" I frantically asked. I wanted time to run this by Dimitri. Hash side stepped closer, our arms touching. He took my hand, quieting the million questions that wanted to be heard. "I- I-," I let out a deep breath. Our oversized coats concealed his show of affection pretty well.

Vince scratched the stump of his missing ear. "Calm down. It'll be sometime after the evening headcount, when they open the doors. I know your cellie's an asshole, so you'll go over to his cell." He let that sink in. "Fuck, Ellie, you are seriously high strung. Have you thought about getting on some tranks?"

"The last thing I need is to get stoned," I said firmly.

"Whatever," said Vince, and he turned back to the subject of the odds on a football game he was taking bets for. I tried to follow what he and Greg were saying, but my mind glazed over. I've never been interested in sports.

Hash got Vince's attention with some body language.

"Yeah, go play," Vince waved us off, annoyed at the interruption.

"Any news from your lawyer yet?" Hash asked as we walked far enough to get some privacy.

I shook my head.

He frowned. Sympathy was so rare in here, I didn't want him wasting it on feeling bad. "I got Dimitri to give me a pillow."

"Awesome!" He patted my back, then got more serious. "The thing with the skunk, it was really ok? He didn't hurt you or anything?"

"No. It was weird, but I can handle it."

The coyote nodded grimly. "About later," he looked away, "I don't know the lion. Vince is usually pretty good about vetting clients but if..." he forced a fierce, confident smile, "if he gets too rough, don't be afraid to walk away. And tell him I'll personally kick his ass."

I tried to hold in my laugh, but I couldn't. Hash was only like an inch taller than my small self. He put on a look of mock offence but soon we were both laughing.

"I wish I could be more like you," I confessed. "You're always the one being strong. All I do is freak out." The thought of buying him a bag of chips seemed so small compared to the rock of stability he'd been to me.

"Regal," he took hold of my shoulders, making me face him. "Just keep being you. I like you. I like talking with you. You make me feel normal, like what I felt like before coming here." He gave me a fast bro-hug, not wanting to draw notice to us. "It's nice having a friend for once.

"Now, talk to me about your art. I want to hear about it." He sat down on the hard ground, motioning for me to join him.

If that was what he wanted, it's the least I could do.

***

Back in the cell with Dimitri, as the doors slid shut so the guards could take a headcount, I felt really good. Even my arm stopped throbbing as much. I stood in my corner, leaning against the wall. Dimitri was splashing himself with water from our sink. It was the best he could do until we got our turn at the showers over the weekend. If he didn't want to stink of sweat, he could always cut back on the exercise, I thought. But one look at the bulging muscles on his shirtless form told me if there was one thing he was more addicted to than television, working out was it.

I looked down at the arm Dimitri twisted and made a fist until pain was radiating from my wrist. I needed the reminder of what he was capable of doing if I got too careless. He had to see me as the loyal pet.

"Sir?" I asked when he'd put his shirt back on.

"What?"

"You told me not to keep anything from you. So, sometime after they open the door, they said I was supposed to let Sanders take to his cell for awhile. If it's ok with you, that is," I kept my head bowed, waiting for his response.

"Sanders?" he asked.

"Yes sir."

"You know, he was one of the lions that sent the leopard fuck to tell me who I could let sit with me."

I tried to picture the lions we sat near in the cafeteria. I couldn't say who was who, but aside from not wanting me near them, I don't think any of them actively wanted to kill me.

Dimitri rubbed his chin. "I'll have to think about it."

"As you wish. If you say no, I'll obey. It's just if I get hurt and sent to the infirmary, you wouldn't have your pet to make you happy," I tried to be seductive, but I think I might have come off sounding like an idiot.

Dimitri chuckled. "You do make a good point. I think you're trying to manipulate me," he smirk at the fear in my eyes as I wait to see which way his temper would swing. "But I think I could ignore that, if you wanted to remind me what I'd be missing if I let the Pack tear you apart."

I let out a breath I didn't remember holding. I could not believe it worked. I made a mental note not to be so damn obvious when I tried to manipulate him next time. He was mentally unbalanced, not stupid.

As I got down on my knees, ready to work my magic, I heard something clang against the cell door.

"What do you want?" Dimitri demanded of the visitor.

"Got somethin' for Regal."

I turned around to see a Badger CO, tapping a clipboard against the bars.

"What is it?" Dimitri asked.

The guard glanced at his clipboard. "A write up. Need him to sign."

It didn't surprise me, but it did annoy me, that the guard could causally go about taking care of paperwork while I was clearly about to give my cellmate head. I read the orientation booklet more times than I want to think about. It says, clearly, that intercourse between inmates was not allowed. But, whatever. My list of complaints about the prison system could fill a book.

The guard tapped the bars again. "Let's get this over with."

I looked up at Dimitri, afraid he'd make me give him the blow job right in front of the guard. I would have done it too. The worst the prison officials could do was nothing compared to what Dimitri could.

"Go."

I breathed a sigh of relief and got off my knees, dusting my pants off as I reached the cell door.

The badger read from the paper, telling me I refused to obey a guard and I caused a disturbance in the cafeteria. That was all technically accurate, but I was still bitter about this going on my record.

"This is kinda minor shit for what you did, from what it says here," the guard told me. "So, I guess they're giving you a break. Two weeks suspension of commissary privileges. But, just some advice, next time you'll probably get fifteen days in administrative segregation, so don't have a next time." He looked at the paper one last time. "You understand all this?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Sign here and here," he slid the clipboard to me.

"Is there any way to dispute this?" I asked.

"Not really. There's a process, but, like I said, it's looks like they didn't think it was serious." He looked at the paper again. "Weird. You should have gotten something more seaver. You blowing the warden too?" he asked with a laugh. "Kidding!" He passed me the clipboard again.

I looked around at the spartan cell. "No pen," I said.

The guard rolled his eyes and patted his pockets. "Here," he passed a pen he'd found.

"Thank you, sir." By now I was pretty sure most of the guards didn't care what they were called, I just used "sir" partly out of habit, and partly just to stay on the safe side. I took the cap off and looked at the write up. "Does it say on here who gave me the write up? I'd kinda like to thank them for not punishing me too harshly."

The badger glanced at his wrist, like he had someplace better to be. "There's an officer ID number, but the one who gives you the write up doesn't decide the punishment. Just sign it."

"Sorry," God forbid that I ask a few fucking questions. I signed with my illegible signature and passed the board back through the bars. I looked back at Dimitri, wondering if he thought my questions were unreasonable. He was sitting on the edge of his bunk, the earbuds in and blue glow of the television playing on his face. He probably didn't hear a word I'd said.

I realized I was still holding the pen. I looked back to the door. The guard was already halfway to the stairs. I looked down at the pen. A cheap disposable. The commissary sells them for a quarter each. I looked closer at it. There were teeth marks, and the ink was half gone. Would I be able to trade it towards my gift fund? Probably not, so I decided to score some points with Dimitri.

I stepped just close enough to be in Dimitri's peripheral. It took a few minutes for him to acknowledge me. I can't be sure if he was engrossed in whatever stupid show he was watching, or if this was just another way of reminding me where I stood in terms of importance. He pull out one earbud. "Mood's passed. Don't let Sanders fuck you up to bad, I'll use you later tonight."

At least I didn't have to worry about that part. "Sir?"

He raised an eyebrow, staying the reinsertion of his earbud.

"The guard left this behind," I held out the pen. "Did you want it, or can I keep it?"

He smiled at the hopeful note in my voice. Yeah I wanted it, but I wanted him to know I wanted it but was still not hiding it from him. Having him start going through my two possessions, there would be no concealing my stash.

"I think you're learning your lesson. Why don't you hold onto it. We'll even talk about you getting to eat breakfast tomorrow, if you keep being a good boy."

"Thank you, sir!" I bowed my head as he turned his focus back to the TV. Why'd he have to mention food? My stomach rumbled as I sat in my corner, spinning my pen between my fingers. I was still sitting there when the count was finished and the cell doors opened.

Damn Vince, I thought to myself. I could be waiting hours for Sanders. It made me too nervous to play with my new pen. All I could do was fret about things I had no control over. Dimitri said Sanders was one of the lions that didn't want me at a feline table. What if he was going to get me in his cell and kicks my ass? But I couldn't believe Vince and Dimitri would both let me walk into an ambush. On second thought, they might.

I was doing what I could to prepare for the worst. Which meant rehearsing a few things I might be able to say to get myself out alive. The lion had made it to the open cell door without my notice. When he cleared his throat, I let out out a surprised yelp, loud enough to get Dimitri's attention.

The two large felines locked eyes. Sanders waved to the tiger. Dimitri nodded in return, and went back to his television. I looked up at the lion. He wasn't as big as Dimitri, but I could see, even with his prisoner clothes, that he was solidly built. His lion's mane was well groomed, slicked back into a thick cowl of dark red.Needless to say, I was intimidated.

It took me by surprise when he held out a hand to help me to my feet. I took it hesitantly, and let him pull me up without much effort.

"Shall we?" Sanders asked.

I immediately suspected he was lulling me into a false sense of security. There was nothing I could do about it, so I nodded, letting him back out the cell and watch me as I followed. It was apparent he was inspecting his purchase.

"It's Ellie, right?"

"I prefer Regal. But, I guess you can call me whatever you want."

He hummed to himself. "Regal's fine."

I followed him down the walkway, still assuming he just wanted me to drop my guard. He started down the stairs, and I froze. It was just for a moment, but Sanders kept looking back at me and noticed.

"You ok?"

"Yeah," I lied.

He looked doubtful, but kept walking as soon as I started to move again. Tomorrow, I had to make sure Vince told Piter not to mess with me anymore. I couldn't live with this paralyzing fear that the demonic husky would rape me again. My heart was racing by the time I made it down the stairs.

"It's just in here," Sanders motioned to the second cell.

Much to my amazement, I felt a little better once I was over the threshold. The first thing I noticed was how much personality Sanders and whoever his cellmate was had given their room. There were photos taped to the walls, books and magazines on the shelf, and a stack of personal letters next to the improvised dice on the table. The place looked lived in, not at all like Dimitri's impersonal, sterile void that I was kept in.

After Sanders strung a sheet across the bars for privacy, he pulled the small plastic stool out from under the cell's table, and sat down, looking at me. He gestured to the bed.

I sat. The thin mattress felt soft and comfy compared to my floor. Sanders was still watching me. It started making me feel self conscious. I awkwardly rubbed my sore arm. "So," I started, "what do you want me to do?"

"I wanted to know what it is Dimitri sees in you. He kinda made it clear you'd be sitting at our table."

"Sorry," I said instinctively.

"Not your choice, I'm sure," he waved it away. "Can I see what you look like under those baggy things?"

"Yeah." It helped not to think about it while I stripped.

Sanders hummed appraisingly. "Not bad. Personally I prefer a little definition. Well, to be honest, I prefer a vigina, but beggers can't be choosers, right?"

I laughed.

He reached back and grabbed a bottle of moisturizer. "I got this from some scalies. It's the best I could do for lube."

He sounded apologetic. "It's ok. Most furs aren't even that considerate," I said.

"You've had a lot of experience then?" he asked with a smile.

I blushed a little. "Not really. But it just seems that's how things are."

Sanders poured a gob onto his hand and puffed a few hot breaths to warm it up. He noticed how grateful I looked. "I'll be gentle. I don't want things to get awkward if we're gonna be eating together. Or, even the rare occasions Dimitri feels social."

"He can feel social?" That was a surprising thought.

"Meh. Not that often, but if there's nothing on TV and he's not in the mood to lift, he's been known to play cards or whatever." He looked at the moisturizer pooled in his palm.

I got the message. "Where do you want me?"

"The bunk's probably the most comfortable, unless you know a better position. It seems theses cells weren't designed for having sex."

I really hate it when I misjudge someone. This fur was turning out to be rather nice. "The bunk is fine, sir."

He stood up while I kneeled on the lower bunk.

"You don't have to call me 'sir,'" he said from right behind me. He rubbed a dry hand down my back, wrapping it around my tail and letting the bushy fur slide through his hand. He repeated that a couple of times before holding on to my tail, lifting it up. "This might be a little cold" he warned me before pressing his hand holding the moisturizer to my ass. I shivered as his fingers began working it around my hole. He push a digit in. That moisturizer really helped with the burning, and I moaned in appreciation.

Sanders leaned forward, pressing his hips to me. He let go of my tail, letting it fall against his stomach. It twitched on its own as he added another finger and probed deeper. His other hand gave me a playful slap on my cheek. I yelped at the unexpected sensation.

"I think I can see why Dimitri likes having you around," he said, rubbing where he slapped.

The light sting turned to a warmth. I was starting to get hard. Fuck, I wondered what I was supposed to do. I didn't want to jizz on this fur's bunk. Maybe I could wait to wank tonight, after Dimitri was asleep and I had a little alone time.

He took out his fingers, the slow withdrawal sent a tingle up my spine and I moaned again. I looked over my shoulder to watch Sanders taking off his pants. The same thick, corded muscles rippling under his fur that Dimitri had. Maybe I should start working out, I thought, until my mind shut off at the sight of him dropping his underwear. I wanted it in me.

"Fuck me," I pleaded softly.

I could feel the head pressing at the loosened ring of muscle. "Say, please," he teased.

"Please!," I moaned, not wanting to lose that electric buzz his fingers started.

My moans turned to a low howl as he went in, stretching me with a delicious blend of pleasure and pain. I rocked back, urging him deeper. His guttural sounds paired well with my softer baying as he drilled me. We were out of sync, due to my inexperience, but it still felt good at every thrust. Try as I might, though, I couldn't get him to hit that magic pleasure spot that Vince was able to hit.

His touch turned more aggressive as the minutes ticked by, fingers clawing in my fur. He was almost there.

Sanders's jet of cum brought a new sensation, not unpleasant, but not enough to get me off. We were both out of breath, which made me feel good. It was a welcome exhaustion that would make sleep so much easier.

Sanders dropped down on the bunk next to me. He looked over at me with a satisfied contentment I envied. "Oh," he said and leaned to reach for something next to the bunk. "Where are my manners," he said as he passed me a roll of toilet paper so I could clean myself up.

Once I had my pants back on, I sat down to tie my shoes.

"You can chill here for awhile. I'm not gonna kick you out," Sanders said with a sleepy smile.

"I wish I could," I said honestly, "but I told Dimitri I'd, uh, you know."

"Oh. No problem." I pulled my shirt on and was about to slip under the privacy sheet when the lion said, "hey, don't be afraid to say hi."

"Thank you," I grinned knowing I went into this scared Sanders might be planning to beat me. Now I felt he might be friend in time. "I'll see you around?"

"Of course," the lion smiled as I left, eager to end on a high note.

I was on my way to the stairs, replaying how well things had gone. I stopped dead at the sight of Piter's tattooed cellmate reclining on the stairs. He was looking right at me, and a sadistic curl began to pull at his lips.