Desire
A lion gets a job he doesn't want to do. A BDSM themed slice of life. (It's old, and not by best writing, but it's something.) Feedback requested, as always.
The doorbell rung, and the lion opened one eye to look at the time. He groaned. Last night had been wild, and the party hadn't stopped until well after dawn. 4PM was simply too early for a caller. He pondered ignoring the ringing, until the doorbell rang three or four more times and he finally dragged himself out of bed. "Coming." he grunted, finding a pair of not too dirty slacks to pull up over his bare legs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
When he finally made it to the door, he yanked it open with a soft snarl at the cringing ringtail that was there. "For gods sake, Rich, I've said I'm through. It takes too much out of me." he said, before the much smaller fur could even open his mouth.
In response, the smaller cat, dressed in a rather proper English butler's uniform, simply pulled out a sheaf of papers with "EVICTION NOTICE" Plastered over the top. "Mistress has said that you can either pay your three months of overdue rent, or come and do this one job." he said, in clipped tones. He didn't like the lion, that much was obvious from his bearing, never quite looking up. "We are aware you find this sort of work not to your taste, but it is simply a fact that you are the best we've ever had."
The lion groaned, and the cat removed a much smaller piece of paper, this one bearing only an address. "You could move, you know. I'm sure that there are other housing arrangements where your landlady would not offer you such bargains, Jerry." He removed his glasses to polish them, an annoyed look on his face, trying not to stare at the lions chiseled pecs, knowing he was a few seconds from getting an erection, which annoyed him to no end. "The client may even tip you extra, if you do a good job." The officious little animal put his glasses back on as the lion stared at him silently. "Not that you ever do anything but a perfect job. We don't have anyone else on the roster who can pull this off."
Jerry slumped, defeated. "Fine. Three months back rent, I keep any tips, and you piss off until next month." he said. The ringtail nodded officiously, putting the eviction notice away and handing over the address. The lion took it, grabbing the ringtail's wrist and making him gasp and moan, causing the lion to smirk. Richard tugged it away, viciously hissing at him
"You TEASE." he said, and turned to rush away, his gait a little funny, possibly to find an ice cold shower.
The lion slammed the door and turned to go into the closet. He removed a large black bag from a corner of his closet, reaching for his mobile phone and tapping the screen angrily with a pawpad, lifting it to his face as he removed a vicious looking blade from the bag, bringing it up to eye level to examine the edge as he spoke. "Hey, Carl, I need a ride. Usual fare?" he asked, grinning softly. "Sure, I'll be out front in about twenty minutes."
He put the blade and the phone away, moving quickly into the shower to rinse some of yesterdays' grime off. Once he'd towelled off and brushed his mane out he dressed, this time in black skintight shirt and jeans which you could practically tell his religion through. He threw a heavy leather duster on over the top, swinging it up and over his head, slipping both arms into it at the same time. He donned heavy fingerless leather gloves which were so well-worn they didn't creak in the slightest, even when he clenched a fist in them.
He snagged up the bag and grabbed a large can of energy drink from a small crate of them before heading out the door, fluffy tailtip tugged out of the way of the door slamming behind him.
He took the stairs two at a time, blood quickening. He WAS good at what he did, but... it didn't come naturally. He had to force it. He stood on the corner of the dilapidated street and waited, ignoring the stares his black-clad form drew from a few of the passers by. He cracked the can open and drained about half of it, sipping the rest as he waited.
Soon after a yellow cab sped towards him, breaking at the last minute with a squeal of tyres. A manic looking possum looked through the passenger door at him, his Australian accent thick. "Hey, spunk, need a ride?" he asked, grinning and showing many pointy teeth.
Jerry smirked as he slid into the passenger seat, tossing his heavy bag in back and handing Carl the paper with the address on it. "Just drive, Carl. I'm still waking up." he said, draining the can, crushing it and tossing it into a convenient trashcan by the door to his apartment building. The possum nodded and stepped on the gas, wheels squealing as he accelerated down the mostly empty street.
"So I thought you was givin' up this sort of thing?" The possum asked, eyes on the road but ears perking towards the lion, half turning his head. Block after block sped passed as the taxi dodged around slower traffic, breaking no small amount of traffic laws as he did so.
Jerry seemed unconcerned. "Well, ya gotta do what ya gotta do." he said, sighing softly. "And right now, I have nearly four grand of rent due which needs paying." The possum made a sucking noise through his teeth and shook his head.
"I'd get you a job with the company, but you can't drive worth shit." Carl said, shaking his head. "Don't you got anything else you're good at?" He asked. "I know youse good at this," he said, grinning wickedly. "That one time that sheila wanted someone to watch it and you let me... I mean, wow. You have a mean way with a knife."
Jerry nodded, moodily. "Yeah, I do." he said, softly. "But it isn't what sings to me. And I tried to get into music, which is about the only other thing I'm any good at, but that didn't work out too well. I had to hock my axe to pay for food." he said, wincing a little at the thought of his prized guitar hanging in the shop window. "Might be able to go get it out if I get tipped enough tonight." The possum laughed as he swerved around a church bus, giving the finger to a crusty looking nun as she glared at him.
"Well, chances are you're gonna. You're a wizard at this." he said, turning violently to go down a side street. A few blocks more and he slowed down a bit, then pulled up to the curb in a surprisingly sedate manner, nary a squeak from his tyres. "This is it."
The lion straightened himself up, gave himself a shake, and reached into the recesses of his duster, the pocket there disgorging a thin wallet, from which the lion peeled out two twenties from a rather small stack of them. The possum reached over as if to take them, then leaned in suddenly and snagged Jerry by the chin, planting a kiss on the lions startled lips.
"Keep it. You can pay me on the way back if you strike it rich."
The lion smirked a bit, and stuffed the wallet back in his pocket, taking the piece of paper the possum handed him.
"Deal." He said, and slipped out of the cab.
The building was an old warehouse which had been converted into lofts. The entryway looked both ritzy and hardened to unauthorized entry at the same time, a difficult combination to pull off well, which upped Jerry's estimate of the property value. Carl waved and drove away, avoiding any attention-getting maneuvers until he was a few blocks away.
The leather clad lion flipped the note over and punched the code written there into the panel, which immediately opened the heavy steel door. He straightened up and sighed a bit as he walked up to the elevator, mentally prepared himself for what came next, punching in the same code on the elevator panel with a little more force than necessary. The doors slid open and he walked into the elevator, which had no buttons inside, just a small display that said what floor he was going to... B3? He thought, puzzled.
The doors snicked shut and he was sped off downwards. Jerry reached into his bag and removed a heavy leather muir cap with holes for his ears to stick through. Some theater was still expected, even in this day and age. The elevator took him a few floors underground, then slowed to a stop.
The doors opened to a richly furnished apartment. The windows seemed to reflect the light level outside, but a quick check confirmed that in reality they were merely frosted glass over luminescent panels. "Nice touch." he murmured, shouldering the bag and walking towards the feline. Where the skinny ringtail may have been wearing a butler's uniform, the domestic feline in front of him practically oozed butlerhood. A maine coon, with a rich, luxuriously soft pelt, dressed in a uniform that looked like it'd cost at least two months rent for the lion.
"Ahh, Mr. Hayes?" The gentleman's gentleman asked, his voice middle-aged and very British, keeping his eyes locked on the lion's, a soft smile on his face as he turned and gestured to one side, leading the lion down a side corridor. "You'll be working through here." he said. "We'll have some refreshments for you afterwards, if Sir cares for it. Coffee? Tea? Something stronger perhaps?"
The lion chuckled. "Well, I won't say no to a glass of water, and a neat scotch once I'm done, please." The cat bowed his head.
"Very good, Sir. There is already water available on a tray, as per your standard contract, along with the work table and your... er... canvas, at the proper height." He gestured to a door, then stepped back. "I'll leave you here. There is an intercom inside should you need anything. Ring for me when you wish to leave and I'll have your drink ready for you." The cat turned, and the lion waited until he took a few steps away before opening the door and walking in.
Inside, Jerry wasn't shocked to find a well appointed room, many of the utensils on the wall making what he brought in his bag almost redundant. He placed it off to one side, shucking the coat and tossing the hat on to a convenient chair as he looked over to the end of the room.
On a St Andrew's cross hung a dog, a rottweiler, bound and gagged, attached to a cross. "I must say, I don't usually find boys quite so willing and ready. I usually at least have to tie them up myself." he said, chuckling softly. The dog let out a little whimper, but his whippy tail wagged behind him, betraying his true feelings quite readily.
He smirked. "Okay. Lets get down to it, little boy." he said, setting down his bag and removing the blade from it, perusing the walls to select a suitable implement...
Four hours later, Jerry was cleaning his tools and putting them away. The precision required with the knife made him ache. He reached over and buzzed the intercom, and once the soft click indicated someone was listening, he spoke. "I'll be outside in about five minutes."
"Very good, Sir."
He smiled a bit, and walked over to the cross, undoing the restraints on the panting canid, admiring his work for what would probably be the last time. On the canid's back was a pattern traced in bloody cuts- angel wings, as requested. In a few months, the fur would regrow into that pattern, following the fine scars, forming the outline of the wings on the dog's back. It was hellishly difficult to get right, and there were perhaps two other people in the country who could do something like this in a single session, and both of them were on the east coast.
He helped the dog over to a leather covered bench, laying him down and gently draping a sheet over his shivering form. "All good there, bitch?" He asked in an uncaring voice.
"I love you. Call me."
"Sure." Jerry smirked. They both knew they were hardly likely to see eachother again.
The tawny feline finished packing away his tools and walked out, taking the waiting glass of scotch from the soft-furred hand offering it, taking a sniff and sighing happily. Macallan, an old one by the smell of it. One of the perks of working for the very rich- they didn't HAVE to give you the cheap stuff. The butler walked past him to the canid's side, and pulled the door closed, directing the lion to sit in a stuffed chair. "I'll return momentarily with your gratuity, Sir."
He pulled out his phone and looked at it. No bars. Underground, of course. He removed his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a small business card, waiting until the Maine Coon returned, handing it to him. "Can you call or text this number and tell Carl that Jerry is done, please." he asked. The butler nodded, bowing and taking the card, also removing two creamy envelopes from the inside of his coat and handing the thicker of the two to the lion.
"If you wish, Sir, My employer's car can take you anywhere you wish to go." he said, reading the number on the card and pushing a second envelope back into place. "Otherwise, you can wait there and we will alert you when your ride arrives." Jerry pondered. Carl could use the dough, but he hardly ever took the lion's money. He weighed the envelope in his paw before slipping the envelope, unopened, inside his wallet.
"Yeah. I'll take a ride."
The domestic smiled. "Excellent."
Jerry settled in to the cab, his bag slung on to the seat beside him.
"Where to?" The wolf asked, after the Lion got in the back, the smart driving cap he was wearing made of leather rather than the usual felt or cotton.
"Sixteenth and B."
"Done." The wolf pulled out into a gap in the traffic, then grinned a bit in the mirror. "So. Enjoy yourself down there? I heard Larry was getting a pair of wings. You the guy?"
The lion sighed a bit. "Yeah. I'm the guy. And no, not really. I mean, I have pride in my work, don't get me wrong, but..." he shrugged quietly with a soft creak of leather. "It's a job to me."
The driver nodded quietly. "What would you rather be doing?" He asked.
The lion smirked. "Playing guitar. Fucking. Reading. Playing video games." he shrugged again. "But... that's not what you're asking, is it. You mean to say, what would make me feel like the guy I was cutting on?"
The driver swung around a slow-moving vehicle, the car accelerating to a ludicrous speed- though Jerry didn't imagine the wolf would risk the car if he didn't have the skills. "I am." The wolf said, glancing at the mirror briefly, then eyes back on the road. "What's your greatest wish?"
The lion paused for a moment as he watched the streets roll by the window. "I don't know. I thought I did when I got the apartment I'm still living in, but that turned into a business arrangement more than a relationship." he sighed, eyes looking at the back of the wolf's head.
He nodded. "Mistress Claire. You were hers?" The wolf gave him the barest hint of a leer.
"Once. For a short while."
The wolf whistled a bit. "She doesn't take in many. At least, not anymore." He grinned. "I'm John, by the way."
The lion blinked, then chuckled. "Jerry.." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Pleased to meet you." He was blushing. WHY was he blushing.
"Jerry. Nice to meet you." The car pulled in- far faster than Jerry wanted it to. "We're here." He said, unnecessarily.
"So... John... what are you up to for the next few hours?" The wolf looked up in the mirror. His expression was unreadable for a few moments. Then it relaxed into a grin. "Funnily enough, I was on my way home... but I have no immediate plans. Do you have a parking spot?"
"Around back." The wolf immediately pulled back out into the street and swung around the building.
The evening was definitely looking up.