Not a Sailor
" ... couldn't break through, though ... mm ... but, uh ... I tried. They're gonna use Assumpta, instead ... "
"Mm ... "
A sigh. The bat sitting in bed, back upright (and leaning back on the headboard) ... legs spread, knees bent. With pads of foot-paws on the sheets. "Mm ... need me ... lower?"
Mouse paws all over her soft, pink thighs. Him on his belly ...
"Like, uh ... lying down ... " A pause. A huff. "Oh ... you like when I sit," she remembered, reading his mind. "Cause I can reach ... these."
An involuntary squeak ... the mouse's ears erogenous. Blood-filled, rosy-pink, and ... hearing at heightened ability ...
"Oh ... oh ... do that again."
"Mm ... mm?"
A huff. She, at a leaned-back sit, knees bent, legs spread ... naked. Fur pink and bubbly, and the mouse (also bare), with his earthy, honey-tan fur ... on his belly. Nose and muzzle and tongue ...
Field did it again. Put his lips right to her clitoris ... and squeaked. Letting the vibrations go from lips to clit to ...
"Oh ... uh ... " She clutched at his dishy ears, which tried to swivel in her grip.
His whiskers, twitching, brushed the soft, soft pink of her vulva ... where the pink fur was so, so short, so velvety ... where it gave way to fleshier, rawer shades of pink. He moaned as the heat from his ears trickled through his body.
"Mm ... mm ... I wanna bite ... " Her versatile tongue licking her fangs.
A huff ... " ... mm-mm ... " Tongue worming up and down her furry folds, licking, wetting ... trying to worm into her vagina. Taste, taste ... get a taste ...
"F-field ... I NEED to ... bite ... " Drops of milky fluid dripped from her fangs, clinging to the fur on her chin. Her beasts heaved.
Lick-lick ... slurp!
"Ohhh ... oh, y-you ... cheeky mouse." A giggling huff. Huff! She let go of his ears, gripping his shoulders ... shivering. "Okay ... okay ... "
His thin, snaky tail ... wavered about, like a live wire.
Orgasm began to well in her loins ... the promise, the pulsing, the building of it ...
And the mouse could smell it. Could sense it ... and eyes closed, pulse pounding, he ravished her. With lips, breath, tongue ... until he felt her muscles quiver. So close to him, quivering ... muscular spasms, and little squirts and drips from her vagina ... which he licked, sucked up, nose wet, glistening, whiskers twitching ...
"Ohhh ... uhn, uhn! Umm ... huh. Oh ... mm," she went, breathing deeply through the nose. "Oh, gosh ... paw ... p-paw!" she chittered.
Field hurriedly fumbled a paw ... to hers. He squeezed her paw ... for the touch. The contact. As if supporting her ... while she endured the orgasm he'd wrought.
Chitter ... chitter-squeak ...
Field sighing ... muzzle still buried between her open legs. Until, after a minute, he swallowed, wriggling to his knees. His slender body matted lightly with sweat (as hers was).
Adelaide cleared her throat. Inhaling through the nose. Whispering, through half-lidded eyes, "Y-you ... you have orgasm all over your muzzle ... F-field ... "
A shy, innocent smile. "I know ... " A flush, licking his own lips.
"Go on," she giggled, leaning back, breathing. "You can say it ... "
"Mm ... " A shy breath. "I love your pussy," he breathed.
A toothy grin. "And it loves you." A giggle. "But I want some mouse cock, so ... how 'bout you ... " She huffed, fangs drip-dripping, fur hot, hot ... " ... how 'bout you let me mount you, and ... and I can bite you, and ... " ... their minds would be linked. He would feel, simultaneously ... the stimulation to his mouse-hood ... AND her femininity. Would physically, emotionally feel her orgasm ... as her female body felt it. Would hear her internal thoughts and cries ... would see her memories and flashes of imagery ... would swim in a sea of her! While she swam inside him, feeling him ... all the while, still feeling their own selves.
Sensual sensory ... overload!
"I, uh ... actually ... wanna be on top this time," he admitted. Normally the sub.
A sweaty smile. Wings pulling him forward ... as she slid to her back ... and as he squirmed between her legs, mouse-hood pink, smooth, proud ... and dangling, leaving stringy trails of pre. Like spider web strands ...
She was licking, lapping ... licking his neck. Numbing a spot for her bite ...
He slipped, poked ... at her folds. With his mouse-hood. Slipping the tip in. Sighing ... slipping more, more ... inches into wet, muscular warmth!
BITE!
Squeak ... chitter-squeak ...
And her arms, from beneath, went round his back and hugged him, keeping him from squirming ... keeping him down. And her legs went round his ... tangled with his. A tangle, now, of furry limbs and forms ... as her eyes seemingly glazed over. As she released her mating milk into his blood. As ...
... their minds were merging. Their minds becoming one ...
Oh ... oh, this was going to be fun!
"I sniffed him out ... down on G-deck."
"He is a snow rabbit," declared Assumpta, looking into the brig.
"No."
Assumpta frowned, tilting her head.
"An Arctic fox," Pyro explained.
"I had Kody run cellular scans," Wren added. "Pyro's right."
"My nose knows," was the wolf's response. A chuckle. A grin. The three of them were in the brig (which housed two holding cells). This was the first time they had been forced to use the brig. Normally, no fur was even stationed here, but ...
Assumpta, still frowning, said, "What is he doing here?"
"Spying," said Wren. "He's been perfectly altered ... I don't know how they did it, but ... their surgeons do good work. If it weren't for Pyro's nose ... who knows what he could've done. Sabotage ... "
"He's very controlled," Pyro added. "I can tell when any-fur's lying ... I can see the waves of body heat. I can ... but I can't tell anything with him. He's a total predator."
"Which is why," Wren finished, looking to Assumpta, "we asked you down here." A pause.
The snow leopard squinted.
"I want you to interrogate him."
"Interrogate?"
A hesitation. "Yes ... we have to know what, if anything, he did to our systems. He could've planted a virus. A bomb. He ... could be a harbinger to an Arctic fox assault. We need to know."
"Have the snow rabbits interrogate him," Assumpta countered.
"The snow rabbits hate foxes ... the fox will never break ... not for them. But for you, a fellow predator ... a fellow predator of the ice, no less. Maybe you can reach him. Somehow. I don't know. And you don't hate him, so ... your judgment won't be clouded."
"What about Adelaide? Can't she delve into his mind?"
"He's had mental training ... he has blocks in place. He's a spy," he reminded. "Anyway, Adelaide already tried. I had her try ... just in case."
Assumpta swallowed, looking into the cell. The snow rabbit/fox was in a corner. Sitting. Eyes closed. But not asleep. His ears were too alert ... for him to be asleep. He was listening to their every word.
There was a pause.
"Can I go now?" Pyro asked, raising a paw.
Wren nodded. "Yeah ... and good job," he commended.
"Thank my nose," Pyro said gently. Smiling. Tail wagging as he left through the swishing doors.
When the wolf was gone, Wren turned back to Assumpta, whispering, "I need you to ... do this, okay?"
The snow leopard looked uncomfortable. "Is this an order?"
"Yes," was the whisper.
"Sir, if I may ... "
"I know your history. I knew it before I brought you aboard this ship ... and I know that, during the past year, you've ... started to thaw. As it were ... "
The snow leopard frowned.
"I know you don't consider yourself a true predator anymore," Wren confided. "I know that you fear, by doing this, you'll reawaken your ... predatory instincts. Your fiercer instincts. Your ... "
" ... violent," she asked, "instincts?"
The squirrel shrugged.
"If you ask me to interrogate him, a predator interrogating a predator ... it will get messy. It will get ... bloody. I do not wish it."
"You're the only one who can do this," Wren insisted. "If we give him to the snow rabbits, he won't talk."
"And what makes you think he'll talk to me?"
"I don't know. I'm taking a chance. I'm asking you to take it with me ... for our safety."
Assumpta looked to the rabbit/fox ... and whispered, "I was having dinner with my mate ... when you called me down here."
"I'm sorry ... but I didn't think it could wait until morning."
A nod. A pause. "Very well," Assumpta said, looking back to him. Her angular ears cocked. Her slitted, icy eyes ... squinting. "I will make him talk."
A nod.
"I suggest you leave."
Another nod. "I'll be in my ready room ... for a few hours, and ... if you finish ... "
Assumpta said nothing.
And Wren left ... leaving just two furs in the room. Assumpta. And on the other side of the force-field in holding cell one: an unnamed Arctic fox. Altered to appear as a snow rabbit. And opening his eyes for the first time, and giving a wicked grin to the cat.
"I'm not a sailor. I'm not so good," Ketchy whispered, "on a ship ... or on anything, for that matter. Or ... anywhere, or ... "
" ... no? Nowhere?"
"I don't know," she whispered. In the dark. In bed. With him. "I've just never fit in. Doesn't matter where I go."
"You're good," Denali assured, "with me. You fit," he said, "with me."
"You're just saying that."
"Why would I just say that?"
"Cause, sometimes," Ketchy said, "furs just say things ... cause ... that's just the way it is."
"You've had a history of ... "
" ... bad relationships?" she supplied.
The otter said nothing.
"Yeah," the squirrel admitted, nodding. "Maybe I just make bad decisions, or ... I don't know. But ... I mean, I consider Luminous my home. I mean, it ... it has to be. I've nowhere else. None of us do."
"What are you getting at, hun ... what's bothering you?" Denali pressed. Snugged up behind her. Her rump to his lower belly. Her back to his chest. And his strong arms wrapped around, holding her to him ... in a comforting hug.
"I'm awkward. I'm ... have no confidence. I'm ... always desperate. I do stupid things. I just don't understand," she said, "what you see in me ... "
"You want me to ... convince you I'm in love with you? Is that it?" Denali challenged (gently). "So, making love to you nightly ... is not enough? So the kisses and the meals and ... are not enough? So telling you, daily, 'I love you' ... is not enough? How do you want it ... to be shown?" he asked. "How do you wish me to express it?"
"I don't know. I just ... " Ketchy's voice faltered. Her eyes were closed. Her whiskers twitching, and her bushy tail ... flitting (absently). "I just ... I don't know," she whispered. "I'm not used to it being real."
"What ... being real? Love?"
A little nod.
"You ARE loved," he assured her. "Many furs on this ship ... love you. And I love you."
"But we still don't really know each other," she said.
"That's an excuse ... I don't know what for, but it sounds like an excuse. You make me feel good, and I ... am pretty sure," he whispered into her ear, "I make you feel good, too. And not just physically. And the fact that we can talk like this, and be so open about every ... emotional thing ... I mean, this is HOW ... furs get to know each other. We're getting to know each other. And, you know, sometimes, it takes a lifetime ... for two furs to know each other. We can't entirely know anyone ... "
"Adelaide can ... "
"Stop being jealous of Adelaide ... "
"I'm not jealous," Ketchy defended. "She's my friend ... "
"You have a low self-esteem. Your confidence was ... I don't know what happened to it. I don't know all the things that have happened to you. All your pains. But I want to know. And I want to make them go away."
"Why?" she whispered. It was almost a plea. "Why?"
"Because you need it," was his response. "Because you need for someone to heal you."
"I don't understand!"
"Then stop trying to," was the otter's restrained whisper. "Please ... I like you. I love you. You've a gentle sense of humor. You're smart, you're humble ... you're beautiful. Your tail, your fur, your ... everything. You just always look like you need to be hugged, and I'm always wanting ... someone to hug. We need each other. I mean, we want each other ... don't we?"
A shy, quiet nod. Eyes opening in the dark, and then ... closing again.
"So, maybe you're not a sailor, and ... you've trouble sailing stormy seas, but ... you're not sailing alone. You're not alone," Denali whispered (into her ear). And a melting smile. "Need more proof?" His fingers tweaked her nipples, rubbing them firm ... " ... mm?"
A cute, needy giggle. "Oh ... p-please?"
"It's too warm in here," said the rabbit/fox. Finally opening his eyes. "Don't you think?"
"I've grown accustomed to it."
"Ah, but ... isn't it uncomfortable? Don't you still find it uncomfortable?"
"No," was Assumpta's terse response. She tapped at the holding cell controls. The force-field lowered. And she stepped inside. And seeing his eyes, advised, "If you run for it, the force-field will reactivate ... only my body signature is keyed to pass beyond the threshold."
"Some crazy science, I'm sure," was the rabbit/fox's response. "There are ways around it. This is an advanced ship, I'll give you that, but ... I'm a spy. You really think I can't deactivate a force-field?"
"Perhaps. But you will not be able to deactivate me. So, it is of no consequence."
"Ooh ... a sense of humor? What HAVE," the rabbit/fox asked, "they done to you?" A bit of a smile. "You've been corrupted."
The snow leopard padded, padded ... in front of the prisoner. Ignoring him. Asking, "What was your purpose here?"
"I wonder ... "
"Simply surveying? Sabotage?"
" ... what it would be like to do a feline. Never done one before ... "
"Are you in contact with your superiors? Are you bugged?"
"Done snow rabbits. Snow rabbit prisoners. They fought, but ... they had to submit. They're prey. Prey need to learn their place. Don't you agree? They're getting too cocky. They need to ... "
"Your attempts at flustering me," she assured, "will fail."
"Yeah?" There was a cockiness in his voice. He was still at a sit, and she stood above him.
"Yes."
"Your prey friends ... do they know what you're capable of?"
"I am not a predator ... like you are."
"Oh, but you are. I can smell it. I can sense it."
"I do not approve of what you do."
"And what, exactly, do ... I do?" he asked. "Aside from feisty femmes?"
She ignored his remark. "You deceive. You damage. You kill. You ... "
" ... kill. You've never killed?" he questioned, squinting. "You're a predator," he whispered. "You've shed blood. Don't tell me you haven't."
"I do not shed it for sport."
"Nor do I. Shedding blood isn't mere sport ... it's art."
She showed her teeth in disgust.
"Don't try and deny who you are. Just because you've planted yourself on this ship of prey and rodents ... don't think you can change your baser instincts. Oh, we're a lot more alike than you ... "
" ... profess to be a spy?" she said, wresting back control of the conversation. "You profess to be a spy. You are awfully talkative," she accused, "for a spy."
"Well, you're a great conversationalist," he teased. "How can I help but open up to you? You're just so ... warm and cuddly."
"And you claim to be a predator. Predators do not ... flaunt wit," she said, "as you do."
"You just made a joke, didn't you?"
"Unintentionally."
"I don't believe you. Anyway ... when you've given your life for species and home-world ... when you've allowed your body to be changed to that of your enemy ... you develop a sense of humor. Otherwise, you want to kill yourself. And, believe me, I've contemplated it. And I see ... you can't understand. Why would we hate the snow rabbits? They're prey ... and they're not ordinary prey, either. You have no idea what they're capable of."
"Just as I have no idea what you are capable of. But forced to choose between them and you ... I choose them."
"Based on what?"
"Instinct."
"Ah, instinct ... your predatory instinct ... would sooner side with prey? Than with a fellow predator? Where is your sympathy? Where is your loyalty?"
"With my friends. With my mate. With ... "
" ... mate?" the rabbit/fox's eyes widened. "Ah, so you have a mate? And he must be aboard this ship ... so, he must be prey," he realized. "You took prey as your mate?" He sounded incredulous. "I mean, I've used prey for ... yiff. It is the right of a predator to do so. But ... to mate with one? To create an emotional attachment to one ... "
She glared at him. Mad at him ... for how he prodded at her. And how he, somehow, eased her into revealing the tiniest threads of her personal life ... which he then extrapolated. And used against her.
"How can you live with yourself?"
"Your name," she demanded. "Your rank. Your purpose on this ship ... "
"I'm a spy," he said, shrugging. "What more is there to know?"
"I will have the information. It is vital ... that you talk to me."
"Or what? You'll hurt me? You wouldn't dare ... "
"Do not push me."
"Maybe I want to. Maybe I want to unleash what everyone has bottled up ... what YOU'VE bottled up ... over the course of ... however many years. Maybe I see a beautiful, fierce creature inside you. With claws and teeth and passion. Maybe I want to uncork you. Maybe I want to taste of that."
Her heart pounded. She showed her teeth.
"That's it," the rabbit/fox whispered. "You're mad at me, aren't you?" he whispered seductively. "You hate me, don't you?"
"I do not hate ... anyone. Hatred is wrong."
"Ah, but so are many things ... doesn't stop us from feeling them. Or doing them."
"I am not run by my emotions. I am not," she said, "prey."
"But you're becoming more LIKE prey ... all the time, aren't you? And purposely so ... does that embarrass you? Why deny it now? Why, at first, act the reformed predator ... and, now, fall into defensive posture?"
"You are trying to confuse me," she whispered, "with your words. Your words ... are like poison. You do not speak the truth. If you even know it." She took a step closer to him. "Get up," she growled.
"Temper, temper," the rabbit/fox whispered. Eyes looking upward.
"You are onboard this ship for a reason ... I doubt that reason is beneficial to me and my crew."
"What species is your mate?" the rabbit pressed.
"Your name, your rank, your purpose on this ... "
" ... mouse, squirrel ... rabbit? Chipmunk ... what kind of prey ... shares your bed? Does he know what you're capable of? Is he scared of you? What would you do ... if he became scared of you?"
"You will not touch him," she whispered. So, so quietly, as to ... sound deadly.
"Didn't say I was going to. Don't see how I COULD ... being that you have helpless in this cell. At your mercy." The rabbit/fox gave a mock-submissive bow.
"You will tell me," Assumpta repeated, maintaining her neutral composure, breathing steadily ... " ... what I need to know. I do not wish to use force. But I shall, if ... "
" ... necessary? You're a predator, cat. With us, force is ALWAYS necessary. It's just a matter of degrees. It's a matter of ... whether or not it's been bled out of you. Whether you remember how to use it. You still have claws, and yet ... you don't. Metaphorically, you've been declawed, I think ... I think you are weak. I think you are not better than the snow rabbits. I bet you've met them. I bet you enjoy them ... I bet they intrigue you."
Assumpta stared at the rabbit/fox.
"Ever bred with one?"
She didn't answer.
"Nothing to be ashamed of. I have ... "
"By force. In predatory fashion."
"So, you have bred with them? And you liked it?"
"I do not see what this has to do with ... "
" ... anything? What does anything," the rabbit posed, "have to do with anything. Really, if ... "
She didn't see his motion ...
SWIPE! Kick ... kick! The feline falling ... with an oomph. And the rabbit/fox rolling, rushing to the force-field controls. Rewiring them.
Assumpta dazed, shook her head, turning ... as the force-field went down, and the rabbit/fox ...
... squealed, claws digging into the backs of his legs. Slicing, tearing down ... through fur, creating red, ruby-red gashes. Staining pure-white fur ... and causing him to stumble. But he tried to roll away, and Assumpta, with blood drawn, with ire raised ... batted him viciously with her paws. With extended claws. Growling as she subdued him ... as he barked out ... as he fought her (forcing her, in her mind, to fight back).
A minute passing ...
... and the spy ... heaving, bloodied, coughing. Breath staggering.
Assumpta, with a bit of blood on her own fur ... had fared far better. And, with expressionless tone, she yanked him up and shoved him into the wall.
He whimpered.
"Tell me," she whispered, "what I need to know."
"I can't ... tell you ... anything. You're too far gone," the rabbit/fox spat.
Shove!
Squeal!
"I will give you to the snow rabbits. They will be far less lenient."
"Then you'll never know what I did aboard this ship. You'll never know ... "
" ... what fuels the hatred in your heart? What keeps you in your emotionally frozen state? What renders your soul ... lost? No, I shall not. But I can live with it. Can you?" she asked. And she reached to slap at the comm panel on the wall.
The rabbit glared at her. Holding his breath.
She slapped it. "Assumpta to Wren."
"Yes?" came the din of the Captain's voice ... over the speaker.
"I am afraid our guest is ... not cooperating. I believe we must give him to the snow rabbits."
"You sure?"
The snow leopard raised her eyes. Looking to the prisoner. "Am I?" she asked him.
"You'll all be destroyed ... you've sided with the snow rabbits, and you'll die right by their sides. Right ... " A squeal ... as she batted his face.
Assumpta heaved. "Yes, I am sure," she said aloud ... to Wren.
"Alright ... well ... okay ... give me a few minutes. I'll have to contact Annika."
"I shall wait here."
The comm cut.
"You were hoping I would kill you?" Assumpta realized. "You were never going to talk. You just wanted to ... draw me into killing you?"
The rabbit, wincing, wiping the blood from his lips, nodded. "I wanted to die by a predator's paws ... not by prey's. A predator's paw is more efficient. Is quicker. Is more dignified. But prey ... " He shivered. And heaved.
"Unfortunately for you ... I am not the type of predator you seek. You may have thought you could bait me. Maybe, to some degree, you did. But you will not drag me over lines ... I refuse to cross."
"Pity," the rabbit/fox whispered. "Pity, that ... " His eyes looked tired. Looked pained.
Assumpta met his eyes. And then stood, and then left the holding cell ... and took a breath. Closing her eyes. Needing a shower.
"Uhn ... uh ... y-you ... "
"Y-yeah ... "
"Oh ... D-denal-eeee," she squealed. Not MEANING to squeal it ... and blushing when she did. But ... oh, but ...
An understanding chuckle ... the strong, masculine otter ... with his rich-brown fur, which his muscular rudder of a tail ... as he humped, humped. From behind. Doggy-style.
Ketchy loved it ... this way. On her hands and knees, and his weight rocking her forward, and ... oh ... hearing him behind her ears, right behind her ears. And feeling him nipple on the nape of her neck ...
Slide, slide ... squelch!
Pull ... push! Pull ... push ...
"Huhn ... uhn ... "
"Y-yes ... yeah ... " ... oh, she had wanted proof, and ... the proof was in her pussy. Making its point over and over and over ... " ... again! Oh ... oh ... again ... "
Assumpta slid into bed ...
"You okay?" Azure whispered, putting down his journal ... his flower catalogue. His sketches and notes from hydroponics.
"Yes."
The squirrel's whiskers twitched. "Darling ... "
She hesitated. "I ... do I scare you?"
"What?"
"I never wish to scare you. I never want to ... be something ... that scares you."
"You don't scare me," he assured. "Hey ... you don't scare me."
She met his eyes.
And he smiled for her. Softly, gently. With that rodent-like way.
And she nodded very quietly, and ... gave an eye-smile back.