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Anxiety

My predicament flashed by in my mind over and over. It was so ridiculous, almost contrived, that I had to keep refreshing my memory of it to remind myself that it was real. I was having drinks in a private booth at one of the most prestigious nightclubs in town with a slightly unusual, but amicable Regulian Prince and a powerful Sirian businessman whom was blatantly sweet on me and whom, I inadvertently spurned at a party he invited me to, by having sex with the host in a moment of weakness. Complicating this was the prescense of Argus's slave, whom looked far too similar to me for my own comfort and would likely be begging for table scraps if we had food on the table; and his daughter, who had just made out with me in the men's room and was engaged to the party host, the Duke of North America.

I even attempted to draw up a chart in my head outlining all the connections but gave up. It was all so asinine and no matter how hard I tried to put it all behind me, I got dragged back in.

Thank god for the alien greeting. Larga rubbing her face against mine probably saved us from Argus using his big, black nose to sniff out just what kind of scents she plastered all over me. In fact, Argus was staring at me as if he was expecting something and a quick flaring of his nostrils gave me the incentive to try and change the subject.

"So, uh, Argus, you're playing king-maker now?" I said.

"It is only natural to support my future son-in-law, no?"

"I suppose so. But do you think he's the best choice? Personally?"

Argus's brown eyes continued staring back impassively, "I would think that you would be well acquainted enough with him to judge for yourself."

Blushing, my eyes shot to Larga, who was licking her lips slowly after taking a sip of beer, a black lip mark remaining behind on the rim of the glass.

"It's okay, Nate. While not officially approved, it is normal for wealthy Lupiads and Sirians to have multiple concubines while married and the Duke is notorious for spending far too much time and getting too personally involved with his slaves. Did you know he was helping his stable-hand court an Equuleian while we were there? Now there's a pairing!" He paused, but before I could ask him what the hell an Equuleian was, he continued, "It will not effect the wedding."

"Still, it's a little inappropriate..." I glanced once again at Larga, who was doing her best to ignore us, "...and besides, I'm not his concubine!"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. I have my own, after all," he brushed his brown paw through Rawk's hair. His voice lowered to a mutter, as if it was directed to me alone, "So there's no hard feelings, understand?"

Larga's ears pricked and she leaned in, trying to listen in.

Once again, it was all on me to swiftly change the subject.

"So, uh, where'd you get him anyways? You grow him in a vat or something?"

"Grow him...?" Argus replied, quickly shaking his head with a laugh, "No, no, I was browsing for a new slave online and saw him. I arranged a meeting with his handler and enjoyed what I saw and purchased him. It was at a premium, as he had sold himself into slavery to support his family, but it was well worth it."

"What a good boy," I said, instantly recoiling at my choice of words and once again, I wanted to leave right away.

A buzz broke out in my pants and I reached in, pulling out my phone. It didn't matter what it said, I would turn it into an excuse to leave. I turned on the screen:

(555) 555-5294: Don't come home tonight.

I stared at the screen, a chill rolling down my spine. I didn't recognize the number. I had given Rit a cellphone, but had neglected to add her to my contacts.

Nate: Who is this?

Rit: It's Rit.

Rit: Don't come home tonight.

Nate: What's going on?

Rit: There have been two cars parked outside with tinted windows. I think they're watching your house.

Rit: I'm going to sneak out and leave the lights on. I've got a room at the Oceanside Motel, meet me there.

Nate: You rented a hotel room?

Rit: I'll pay you back. Room 215.

I deposited the phone, hands quaking the whole while. I was worried for a moment that the party had noticed my anxiety, but I quickly found that a new visitor had occupied their attention.

He was a Sirian, much shorter than Argus, even a head smaller than most Vulpeculans, including the two female ones his arms were wrapped around, one silver-furred and one black-furred. His muzzle was tiny and narrow, and a pair of aviator sunglasses covered his eyes, the supports modified to rest atop his pointed ears. I usually liked to compare most Sirians to dog breeds for a point of reference, but he didn't really resemble any particular one.

"Argus, you're making a big mistake backing Duke Horith. I thought you were a great, Sirian merchant, no?" His voice was high-pitched, but still had a hint of Sirian guttural depth.

"My holdings on Earth speak for themselves."

"But what about your galactic profits? Hm?" He let loose a yappy laugh as his muzzle flapped open. He released his grip from the silver Vulpeculan and held his paw out, making a clutching motion, "I whooped you good on Sirius Prime and now, with the King of Earth on my bankroll, I'll have everything I need to finish you off on Earth! If I were you, I'd save your money and call off the engagement."

I whispered to Shalth, who was being remarkably quiet for himself, "Who the hell is this?"

"Ragoon. He owns Ragoon Holdings and they basically made every housing development in Sirius and Lupus for the past decade."

Argus took a sip of his drink and lifted his brow, "So then, dear rival, whom do you intend to bankroll? Raleth doesn't have a chance after naming you-know-what on a live broadcast and Aleesh would be an unstable investment. And knowing your history of dodging allegations of supplying Sirian separatists but showing no signs of avoiding such controversy, you'd pick a Sirian candidate, but they'd never accept a businessman as King, so it must be..."

"Excellent deduction," Ragoon frowned, "Duke Lorgan of Oceania. He has everthing he needs to win, he's a war hero, he's tough and rugged; and he knows that the humans need to be dealt with harshly," Ragoon turned his muzzle to me, "I'm sorry, but it's true! You guys have really tried our patience!" He turned back to Argus, "But on the other hand, he's nowhere near as unstable as Aleesh and he enjoys a high level of popularity in Oceania, much like your precious Horith, but lacks his eccentricities."

Lorgan was a war hero, I know this because the Regulian newscasts said he was. Indeed, he was involved in the ground invasion of Earth, performing successful captures of many East Asian capitals, which was no small feat in of itself, even if human morale was low due to orbital bombardment. While there were no known cases of atrocities from him directly, there has never been, as with many such battles, a believable casualty count released.

"Lorgan?" Argus asked, a slight grin forming on his heavy jowls, "An excellent choice." Argus suddenly switched to English, "He's a good boy, yes he is, isn't he?"

"I have no idea what you just said, but I care not! I've invested a lot of money on his campaign." Ragoon wrapped his paws back around the Vulpeculan girls, "You might as well begin merger talks with me, you're finished! Perhaps, we may even discuss marriage with your..."

"Larga is engaged to Duke Horith," Argus said bluntly, "Nothing has changed."

Ragoon uttered a tiny, barely threatening growl and sauntered off, giving a quick lash of his curled, puffy tail as he took his girls away.

Argus quickly downed his drink and suddenly spoke, "I must leave. I have business to attend to. Come, Rawk."

They both slid out of the booth and Argus quickly grabbed a phone from his pocket and began dialing. Silently, he smiled, exposing his jagged, sharp molars.

Argus left, dragging Rawk roughly behind him, his tail happily brushing against his slave. I was relieved to see them go, but this still meant I was here with Larga. I really wished she would leave, but she seemed intent on nursing her drink and she had a long way to go before it was finished.

I tried to say something to Shalth, as he as the closest thing to a friend I had here, but Larga butted in.

"Did you fuck my dad?"

That's it. I was done.

"No," I shuffled in my seat, getting up to leave, "I've actually got to leave, I have a date..."

"I don't care if you fucked my fiancee, but my father? My father!?"

"Goodbye, Shalth," I said, ignoring the increasingly irate Sirian, "Maybe we can grab a beer sometime?"

"It's on you next time!" He replied.

"Later!"

I walked away, not paying any attention the cacaphony of angry growls and barks behind me.

"Don't you walk away from me!"

I dropped off the suit, just before the rental place closed, and caught a cab.

"Oceanside Motel."

It was going to cost me, but it was worth it to get out of there. I was worried about Rit and sent her another text message but received no reply. Ironically, leaving the chaos of the nightclub meant that I had nothing to focus on but her cryptic messages and the danger she might be in.

I even tried calling her, but got sent straight to voicemail, which was a series of unintelligible, throaty but high-pitched noises I recognized as Vulpeculan, but naturally, I did not know a word of it.

"Hey buddy," the cab driver said, "Dispatch said to turn on the news. It's something else."

I loaded up the only news station I paid to have access to on my phone and was immediately greeted with shaky video footage of a naked Sirian, a brown and black one similar to a doberman, kneeling on the floor with a femur gripped between his teeth, a red erection peeking out of his sheath. Marking his muscular body and face were several pink scars. A collar was around his neck and a black leather leash chained to it, leading past the camera, likely being held by the person taking the video.

"Who's a good boy?" A voice from behind the camera whispered happily. It was not very clear, but it sounded like a human. "Who's a good boy?"

The Sirian whined like a dog, opening his maw with a smile. A hand, a human hand, reached forward, rubbing him on the top of his head and scuffing up his short fur.

"Who wants a treat?"

The Sirian's mouth flew open, the bone went to the ground, drool trailing behind on it. His tongue lolled out and he leaned forward expectantly.

"What do you say?"

"Please!" The Sirian said in English.

"Please, what?"

"Please, master! I would like a treat!"

The leash collapsed to the ground and the camera violently shivered before stabalizing just in time for a thin, very human penis appearing at the bottom of the video, aimed directly at the Sirian's open yap. A hand started stroking it quickly.

"Please, master! I can't wait!"

The footage cut out suddenly, revealing a room of unfamiliar, but very shocked looking human news-anchors. One of them, the head anchor and replacement for long-time apologist Allen Jacobs, broke the silence.

"We, uh, seem to have had a hi-jacking of our signal again," the head anchor, an older, gray-haired woman said.

One of the co-hosts, a man with short, brown hair, spoke, "Wasn't that the Duke of Oceania?"

"Quiet!"

"We're all fired anyways, might as well..."

And with that, the signal ended as abruptly as Lorgan's attempt to claim the crown. Even if the humans had a say in the appointment or the right to vote, he would still probably lose. Hell, even if he wasn't going to run on Ragoon's described platform and one that was more in our interests, he would still lose. There's a difference from being man's best friend and being...that.

The Oceanside Motel was only about ten minutes from my place, in fact, the taxi actually drove past my apartments. I didn't see much, having slouched about as far down in the seat as I could without dislocating my spine. If there were cars staking out the place, I didn't see them, but I'd take Rit at her word.

Soon enough, we were at the Oceanside, a drab, flat, concrete place that, contrary to the name, had nothing even close to an ocean-side view. Despite the false advertising and it looking about as nice as an East German tenement block, it wasn't unclean or seedy. It was just the kind of place a traveling salesman would stay at between cities.

Then again, they did allow a Vulpeculan slave to rent out a room using her master's credit card, so clearly they have some sort of a "Don't ask questions," policy in place.

I climbed the outside stairs and was immediately greeted with three crooked, brass numbers attached to a white door reading "215."

I knocked. "Rit, it's me."

There was a click and the door cracked open. A small whisper echoed from inside, "Get in!"

Pushing my way in, I nearly ran into Rit, wearing nothing but her red and white fur. I pulled her into an embrace, kicked the door closed, and brought my lips to hers. My hands ran through her thick, silky fur and I clutched at her rear, fingering the base of her tail, eliciting a moan.

"I'm sorry I left you." I whispered.

Her nose pressed against my cheek, sending a cold chill to run down my spine. She sniffed rapidly, leaving behind a cold trace of moisture as it probed around.

"Met someone nice tonight?" She asked.

"Hm?"

She inhaled deeply, uttering a soft sigh. "I must admit, I didn't peg you as a Sirian kind of man, master."

"Shit," I muttered, "I'm sorry, Rit. She, uh, she pressed herself against me and..."

"You don't have to explain yourself. It's normal for you to want to branch out."

"Yeah, but I really didn't..."

"You could even bring her back one day and if she was okay with it, we could both pleasure you."

That sounded almost tempting, had I not completely burned bridges with Larga and was not in the slightest mood to see about getting it repaired. Still, the image of two pretty girls, one on each side of me, pressing their naked, warm bodies against mine...

"Trust me, even if I was interested, I figured you'd want me to come back alone," I said, brushing my palm against the side of her face. I made my way into the sparsely furnished room and laid back on the bed, far too firm for my liking and covered in a hideous floral duvet, and continued, "I'm glad you were able to get out of there. You were certain that they were watching the place?"

"I'm certain. I don't know who they were, but with everything that has happened," Rit paused, "Some people might be still after you, trying to wait for you to slip-up and incriminate yourself. No doubt there's people wanting to pin the recent murders on you."

"Aleesh?" I said aloud, not realizing that Rit would have no idea about the full details behind that incident.

"We'll sort it out tomorrow, okay?" She said, taking a seat on the bed next to me, her fluffy tail swishing and landing on my chest. I began to stroke my fingers through it.

"Yeah, I have a job tomorrow morning, real early. Don't need to stop by home though."

"Did you hear about the news getting hijacked again?"

"Saw it on the ride here. Bet Argus is happy."

"Argus? Of ArgusCorp?"

"Yeah. He's backing Horith, plus he got in a big argument with a rival of his, who was supporting Lorgan."

"Interesting."

Rit fell down beside me, nuzzling at my check gently, "You can pretend I'm her, if you like, master."

"Why would I want anyone but you?" I whispered back, running my hand down her flat chest, prodding at every nipple I came across.

She ran her long tongue across my chin before continuing to sniff at my cheek, even holding her mouth open in surprise as her breathing became heavier.

"Did you meet any humans tonight?"

"I told you, I only want..."

"I'm serious, Nate," she sat up, planting her paw on my chest and looking down at me, her usually warm, amber eyes now deadly sharp, "Did you meet any humans?"

"A few, yeah."

"Did any of them touch your face?"

I had to think for a moment. Not about who touched my face, I knew the answer to that already: Argus's human dog and the Captain both did; but I had to consider whether I should even tell her about the Captain. I decided not to, as I didn't want to get her mixed into the business with the rebels, especially when I had just gotten myself out of it.

"Nate, I can smell the human whose scent lingered in your apartment. The one who broke in."

"Oh, I already know who did that, it was Prince Shalth. He's got this cologne that masks his scent as human's and he stole my beer, but it was all in good fun. He's a bit of a strange one..."

Then I paused, a harsh fear rolling down my spine. Shalth said that the door was already unlocked. I still couldn't get her involved, but I had to give her as much as possible as she was really the only ally I had right right now.

"There was a girl who wanted me to dance with her," I lied, "And then there was Argus's slave, he gave me the standard alien greeting."

"Argus's slave?"

"Yeah. He's something else. Imagine Lorgan, but a human not a dog, I mean, Sirian. Otherwise, acted pretty much the same. Made the whole damn evening awkward."

"Hmm," she moaned sultrily as she crawled atop me, her pink tongue lolling out as she stared at me, lust filling her eyes, "If you want to put a leash on me and have me chew on a bone...your wish is my command, master."

"No, not the bone, that's just disgusting."

"And the leash?"

I reached up, wrapping a finger around her metal collar and pulling her down towards me, "I wouldn't object if you wanted that."

A smile grew around her slim muzzle and she took my hand by the wrist, followed by reaching for the other, pinning me down against the bed, her thighs straddling my crotch and causing my cock to press against the fabric of my pants.

"Shouldn't I be the one doing this? I mean, uh, I do well," I coughed. The word was still really uncomfortable, "Own you, after all."

"Do you object?"

I said nothing, enjoying the feeling of her grinding against me far too much. I groaned, closing my eyes as I pushed back with my crotch.

A sharp pain in my hip caused my eyes to shoot open open to find Rit withdrawing an empty syringe and tossing it onto the floor.

"I'm sorry Nate, but this is for your own good. The stakes are getting too high and I can't let you leave tomorrow morning."

She reached behind me, shortly followed by two clicks. I swung my head from side to side, which felt like it took minutes as the world blurred and slowed, and found two handcuffs wrapped around my wrists, leading to the tarnished, brass bedposts.

Sighing, she laid atop me, taking my head in her arms and licking my cheek. My nose was pressed against her chest and I took in her sweet, musky scent and heard the quiet thump-thump of her heart. I could do nothing more than that.

"I didn't want to have to do this. You're a good man." She whispered, running her claws through my hair, "But you're in way over your head. Help will be here tomorrow, I promise."

My senses were starting to fade, to the point where I could barely even smell her prominent, intoxicating musk.

"I hope you can forgive me."