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Call Center

A challenge.

The site lead indicated his annoyance, clattering stiff claws onto the desk, one finger after another. Pinky, ring, middle, forefinger. Pinky, ring, middle, forefinger. The lion's tight business suit must have made him a crankster (if the rhythm that presaged my demise was any indicator). The office would have made for a fine cell at this moment. All it needed was a toilet, a bunk, and a hung stallion named Bubba.

"Look, Theodore." Here it comes. "Last month you were our top seller. But your sales over the past few weeks have plummeted." The lion shook his head, his rust-tinged mane shaking as if also disappointed. "We're trusting you to lead the floor with our numbers--you're one of the best we have. But our clients have been on my ass like some desperate call boy. We can't have that."

I wondered if all the head honchos were lions. Last job at a call center, my boss was one--all mangy-haired and wild-looking like bushfire with claws and teeth. Looked like he could tear your face off with appearances alone. Even the cool blueness of his eyes did little to temper his visage as the whole salesfloor avoided him. But damn, could he sell. Bring the horses to water and not only convince them to drink, but to bathe in it too. Think it was liquid gold. Shame a sexual harassment claim forced him into early retirement. Dismissing the thought of ringing him up for a refresher course on sales, I blinked at the current king of our telecommunication jungle. A king who was young, around my age, and inexperienced (although determined, to his credit); he was the exact opposite of my former, older, more capable leonine commander. But a boss was a boss, even if undeserving.

"You listening?"

"Yeah. Call boys all night. Won't happen again."

"Look!" The lion's fingers straightened into switchblades, his paw striking the desk with such force that papers stamped with graphs and important numbers flew off, seesawing onto the floor below. My ears flattened. "Get serious. I'm not writing you up. I'm not smearing your clean record. We know what you can do. You're capable. Better than the coaches leading the teams on the floor. You pass all your QA checks with flying colors. No zeroes. Everything legit. I've pulled QA off your calls to focus on the other agents. We certainly don't need QA holding your paw again like you're fresh out of training, do we?"

Shirking off the temptation to earn brownie points by retrieving the fallen papers, I frowned instead, my tail curling confidently, then riposted, "No. I do everything by the book. Just too many bad calls. Too much tech support. They're hard sells, even for me. Just give me a few more days to even out my stats. It's not the first time this has happened."

"No," the lion said, calmer, the extra teeth he'd grown with his scowl diminishing. His mane withdrew to its dormant volume. He straightened his tie (though it didn't need straightening), coughing politely. "But you know the economy is shit. We're one of three call centers looking at a shut down if one of our clients pulls the plug. It's not just your job on the line, nor mine. It's everyone's here. We all need to pull our weight for the sake of each other."

"I understand, sir. We done?" If I had a tie, I'd probably straighten it as well. Instead, I swallowed.

"Just do your best."

* * *

The call floor was a circus of agents hammering information into their computers, yammering into their headsets--or to each other, bullshitting until one of the coaches sent them back into the fire. Many of them moaned, needing a cigarette break, or were taking a few meager seconds to swig a bottle of soda, for a quick bite of cheese fries or whatever greasy food from the small cafeteria down the hall. The smell of deep-fried goodness wafted in from the bottleneck of a single door, the only exit, taming the scents of fur and sweat. Meanwhile, the four coaches kept track of sales on large dry-erase boards, congratulating the agents as they did so, reprimanding the ones with too many blank spots by their names. I thought about my old boss and some of the pointers he'd given me to get a sale: Establish rapport. Probe for need. Fine-tune benefits of products to the customer's specific needs. Close the sale. Assume it.

This past week? Not easy.

Finding my chair in the corner where it was quiet--or, at least, not as noisy--I straightened the papers on my desk, looking over my page of callbacks and leads. Potential sales. Debating on whether to call them up or take new calls, I slipped my headset around my neck, then leaned back on my chair until it squeaked to formulate a mental game plan.

Lámina, an ocelot with a personality as flat as her chest, tossed her headset onto the desk, letting out a sigh. Usually no one occupied the seats next to her, so we ended up as lone neighbors most days, the other guys opting to sit next to more visually appealing gals who spoke in bubbly code, brushed their tails during calls, adjusted their breasts. The only thing going for the ocelot was a blur of rosettes, which she kept modestly concealed with her plain-as-sky clothing. A pariah of sorts, Lámina reminded me of my old boss.

"Another no sale?" I said, a phrase many of us offered like an understanding shoulder.

"Yes." She was emotionless. A speaking flat-line. "What did the site lead have to say?"

"Oh, you know...the same shit everyone else has to tolerate. I'm just another cog in the machine that needs oiling. Though, some days I wonder if I'm the only busted cog."

"Probably." Lámina blinked. She was an average salesperson, here just for a paycheck like everyone else with no other option except grueling production line work making commercial folding tables--that or fast food, although I've heard applications for your local McDonald's piled up as quickly as food stamp requests. "However, part of me suspects a poorly stocked intercourse department as accounting for his rough-and-tumble management style. I wouldn't take that lion too seriously."

"In that case," I scoffed, "I can certainly relate!" Mandatory overtime, college, and a bad break up last year meant little time and desire in finding a partner to lay, much less develop a deep blossoming relationship full of beach-side evening strolls and candlelit dinners. This also meant terribly hard morning wood most days, ending with a ritual clean up on aisle eleven when I had the time.

"Well, cheer up, pup." Odd hearing Lámina of all people telling me to cheer up, considering a smile on her face was as rare as a pay raise. And pup? She was the same age! "No one has ever topped your stats for any month since this place first opened. I'm sure he's noticed that."

"I know, I know." My ears flattened, a bad habit for the day. "But my latest calls--I swear, they're sending me all the bad ones. Yesterday, I had one lady tell me to fuck off. That's never happened!"

"Watch your language." The biggest, most imposing of all the coaches turned the corner, a gruff-talking black bear with ears as keen as an elephant's, and a visible scar on the side of his face the shape of a tusk (many speculated he got it from a previous bouncer job when a drunk-ass pub crawler pulled out something equivalent to a shank). It was a slip--one complaint from a customer that managed to hear a curse word in the background, and you're gone. The bear made sure of that. His equal disdain for upper management was the only reason any of us remotely liked him. "Back on the phone, Theo. You too, Lámina." His voice didn't so much as grate as it did frighten. It was no wonder they pulled him off the phones, promoting him to coach. Best to scare the underlings into submission than a customer into hanging up.

Blackie turned the other corner to growl orders at another agent, allowing my nerves to settle as I propped my headset back to its proper place around my pointed ears. Offering an encouraging smile at Lámina who'd just started another call, I logged into the system to take my own next call, tail curling in anticipation.

* * *

My headset clattered onto the paper-sprawled desk as I let out a heavy groan. The past hour: nothing. These half-a-dozen customers demanded tech support for services they already had, leaving me with only extended warranty and protection plans to sell before transferring them. No one bit. Like tossing a line in a pool void of fish, it didn't matter how much I baited the hook.

"Theo, we need you on the board," called the bear, a fat marker in his menacing paw. "Urgently."

Glancing over at the board, empty boxes, one for each hour, inhabited a horizontal formation next to my name like a rigid snake, indicating my abysmal performance. Even the worst agents on the floor were doing better, their boxes full of tick marks and letters that signified the different up-sells. We had minimum requirements before the day ended, and with the few hours left of my shift, it seemed the site lead would write me up for sure. First agent to have a zero-percent score across every product? Termination was the more likely outcome. No way our clients would tolerate dead weight. One phone call from their head office and the lion would give me the boot.

I had to get a sale. At least one.

Collecting myself with a reassuring thumbs-up from Lámina, I retrieved my headset and set myself to READY. Phone ringing without hesitation, I waited for the third ring as was standard, then answered. "Hello. May I have your name and number in case we disconnect?"

A few seconds and no reply. Just quiet. An occasional occurrence. Sometimes the system placed a customer on hold for so long they set the phone down, only to discover later an impatient agent disconnected them after finally picking up. Normally I'd ride the silence, wait for the customer to return, and not worry about taking another call right away. But right now, I needed a sale.

I repeated myself. Still no reply. "Okay, thank you for calling. Since there's no answer, I'm hanging up."

"Hello?" The voice hit me just as I moused over DISCONNECT.

"Uh, hi.... May I have your name and number please?"

"Sure, you can--" The voice was distinctly but pleasantly masculine and confident. Sometimes it was hard not to laugh when another guy sounded too nerdy or femmy or intoxicated. Of course, a customer complaining about being laughed at also meant an instant pink slip, so none of us made the mistake of forgetting that mute buttons were invented for a reason. Sounded like I wouldn't have to use it. "--if I can have yours first."

Scratch that. Prank calls or customers with strange senses of humor normally didn't bother me, but we still had to attempt a sale. He better buy something.

Offering one of my well-practiced laughs, I said, "Well, first time another guy has ever asked me that." Moving the call along: "How may I help you today?"

"You sound cute!" My fur stiffened into pins. "You must get that tons. What are you? Lemme guess. Canine?"

Might as well humor him. "Good guess. Guess the breed correctly and I'll think about giving you my name." I'd baited the hook. Time to toss him the line. "And perhaps my number, too."

The caller gave a deep, almost intimidating chuckle. "A tiny hint? Fur color?"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Black and white."

From the hum of his voice I could tell he was thinking. Then he said, "Husky."

"Good guess," I echoed. Even with that leaf of a hint, there was no way he could've guessed the tree correctly the first time--except for dumb luck. In just our call center alone, we had a Border Collie, a Dalmation, a Landseer, and a couple Bull Arabs who were black and white. Or: "Sounds like I'm talking to my own personal stalker!"

"No, no...you've got the playful sound of a husky. I almost said Dalmatian, but you sound friendlier than all the ones I've met."

"And let me guess what you are. Lion?"

"Good guess! No hints or nothing! How'd you know--caller ID?"

"Let's just say you remind me of a certain somebody." The forwardness of my current and previous bosses came to mind.

"Regardless, color me impressed. And now for that name and number of yours...."

"Said I'd think about it." If only he'd played his part from the beginning, he would've gotten my name as part of the script. I could still give my name anyhow, but the call's obviously a prank...or one from a sad, desperate man who had too many bad online hook-ups. Time to pull the plug depending on how he answered this: "Anyway, what services were you looking into today?"

"Got a big dick that could use servicing."

Time to hang up. At least I'd have something to laugh about in the break room with the other agents, assuming I still had a job. "Unfortunately, sir, since you're not looking into any of our products today, I'm going to have to hang up. Thank you for calling and have a nice--"

"Wait, wait, wait. Sorry, man, just having a little fun with you."

Hesitation snagged my ear like a fish hook from a wild cast. Perhaps this was a bite after all?

"Just moved to a new house in a new neighborhood. Don't know nobody. Used to joke like this with the old compadres back home all the time. They always told me I had no filter when talking to strangers. Mega-apologies!"

"That's fine," I said, although still on guard. "So, I take it you need to activate services in your new home?"

"Yes. Need some TV. Bored outta my mind here!"

My heart started to pound. This was the sale I needed, although I could've done without the rocky, near-pornographic start. Fingers poised over the keyboard to jot his information on Notepad, I began with my first probing question. "So what kind of shows do you need?"

"Well, what do you think? Just a lonely guy here, nothing to do, nobody I know. Need a channel with some M on M action, some heavy ass-pounding. I'm a big fan of cumshots. Studs with big dicks and bigger loads. How much for that?"

Was this guy serious? I couldn't decipher if this was an actual request or not. I kept the cursor steadily over the disconnect button.

"Well...." I cleared my throat. "I recommend the _internet_for that, which I can also set up, or your local adult store. I can get you started with a basic television package, but I'll have to transfer you to the direct provider in your area to see if they offer those sort of...add-ons."

"I see. Or we can settle with your add-on. How big does yours get?"

A frown tore my face. What a complete waste of time. "Sir, it's obvious you're not looking to purchase anything. I'm hanging up now. Thank you for calling and have a nice day."

The line went dead as the crank caller protested, trying to keep me on the line so he could further rattle my skull. The fact that I gave him so much of my time made me immolate in embarrassment and anger. I should've hung up sooner. By now I may have had a call with an actual sale! Releasing the disconnect button, something else rattled inside my mind, prickling the parts that understood my subconscious. I had to admit, the call had me curious--and under different circumstances I may have pressed a little further...not just attempt a sale but see where the guy was heading. Reel him in.

"You all right, Theo?" Lámina raised a paw to one of the coaches with a flick of her tail, indicating a sale, before regarding me with the calm spheres of her eyes.

I snickered. "Just got the most perverted call ever."

"Oh, you got him, too? Sarah and Max had the displeasure of his acquaintance as well. Coaches say to simply disconnect. If he keeps calling, they'll ping him for harassment."

"Got it." Looking over at the board again, I noticed all the sales my coworkers earned...and the severe lack of my own. Fuck. "Better just dive back in."

"Need me to take a call for you?"

"No, no. I can do it." I stretched, trying to look casually confident. "Just need one good call."

"You'll probably need more than your diving skills to pull off a sale before the shift's over. Positive you don't want me to take a call under your name?"

"Trust me, I've been lost at sea before. I can do this. Besides, you know what they do if you're caught taking a call for somebody else! Remember that annoying tabby cat with the awful rainbow he called a mohawk? Got fired last week for that!"

"Rain-_mo_hawks frighten me more than the unemployment line," Lámina replied. "If you change your mind, I'm here." Turning back to her computer, she took another call I knew she'd turn into a sale--and I couldn't help but silently curse myself for not accepting her offer.

Staring back at the blank, glaring eye of my own computer screen, a sigh pushed its way out as I set myself to READY once again, hoping against hope I wouldn't drown.

* * *

"Fuck." The headset crash-landed onto the desk again. "Fuck."

Another caravan of difficult, technical-support-only customers that didn't want anything I had to offer. Just technical support, "Now!" How the hell was I supposed to earn sales with these terrible calls? I fumed. My breaths came out in such hot bursts that my whiskers nearly singed off. Fists clenched until my claws dug into my palms. Worst. Day. Ever.

"Fuck."

"Theo! Language!" Thundering over, the bear pulled a chair beside me, which groaned beneath his weight. "I understand that you're frustrated, but you've got to save the language for the break room."

"Sorry."

"So how many sales have you annexed since last we spoke?"

"None."

"None?"

"Bad calls. Bad, bad calls."

"Your shift's almost over. You know we don't tolerate no-sales for an entire shift here."

"I know. I, I just don't think I can do this anymore."

"Come, now. Get yourself back in the game. You still have an hour left. All we need is one sale so you don't end up in the nightly reports to our clients. Just one. Can you do that?"

"I'll--I'll try."

"No, you'll do it." The bear's dark eyes seemed to pierce through some deep part of me. I almost shuddered. "Say it."

"I'll do it."

"Good. I'm counting on you. Make a comeback."

"Will do."

After that award-winning pep talk, all that was left was the hollowness of the computer screen again, staring back as it always does, the grip of my headset as I donned it, and the roar of the call center as the eagerness of the final hour overtook each employee. Sixty minutes. I could do this. Lámina breezed through the final stretch of a sale. Thanking her customer and informing them that they were now being transferred to the installation department, she rerouted them with a smile and waved her paw at the coach. "Grand Slam!" she said to the cheers of all the coaches and the congratulations of some nearby agents.

"Nice work, Lámina!" The bear marked her sale: every product and service we had available. Grand Slams, though rare, earned customer reps a respectable bonus and praise in the nightly emails, as well as recognition on the Top Sellers board the site lead perused each day. Some days our lion boss would strut there for a few minutes, stroke his mane, and determine the promotional worthiness of each employee when a coach position opened. Although I've made the board plenty of times, it was obvious why the lion never promoted me even after multiple requests. They needed to keep someone on the floor who could sell.

"But why can't I anymore?" I said under my breath. "Why?" And I couldn't lose this job, not with a student loan hovering over me like a dark star, and the sheer difficulty of getting any sort of employment in the first place. Damn this city and this stupid economy. "This next call is a sell," I promised.

I hit READY.

The phone rang. Rang again. Rang one more time.

"Hi. May I have your name and number in case we disconnect?"

Silence.

"Hello?"

"You still haven't given me your name and number first."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"Guess I'll have to count myself as one lucky guy, getting an encore of that cute husky voice of yours."

"Oh, you again." What were the odds? Lámina patted me good luck on the back, whispering that she was going on her last break. I could just hang up right now and join her, but the lack of sales meant I needed to forsake a break's small comfort as I did for lunch. I waved a quick adieu.

"Glad to hear you miss me," the lion said. "Where did we leave off? You were going to get my television connected, weren't you?"

"Yes, if that's what you really want."

"Of course! I wasn't lying when I said I just moved. House is too quiet. Need some shows!"

"Well, like I said...for pornography, you're going to need to talk to the installation department after I transfer you with your basic package."

"Mmm...package. That's what I like to hear. Especially big packages."

Internally groaning, I composed myself as best I could before speaking. "Look, man. I've had several really bad days here, and you're the cherry on top. You don't work at a call center, that's obvious, or you wouldn't be harassing us. There's an hour left of my shift and I need one sale to stay off the chopping block. I can't waste that on some prank." A little too much information, especially with QA possibly eavesdropping, but who could take this?

"Oh, my bad," the lion on the other end offered with a chuckle. "Look, I do know what it's like. My old man worked on the phones most of his life and would tell me all about it. I'll buy whatever it is you need to sell. I do need all that shit hooked up. Money's not an issue. But boredom--shit, that's deadly! Just humor me a little?" He paused, waiting for an answer. I felt torn between hanging up and testing his honesty. "If I were a canine, I'd be giving you those big puppy-dog eyes. But that wouldn't matter. You and I exist only as voices."

"True. Can we start things off with your name?"

"Yours first."

I shrugged. Whatever. "Theodore. Friends call me Theo."

"Theodore, huh? God's gift. Well, I certainly hope you're holding true to your name!"

"What, you some etymologist or something?"

"Not really. Just got a thing for names. Kalmin's my handle. Means manly and strong. Two adjectives I generally use referring to my penis."

"You seem to also have a thing for the male reproductive organs."

"Only when they're big and produce loads that can rival my own." The lion didn't even try to hide the excitement in his voice. "Hope I'm talking to a husky that can satisfy both requirements. Woof!"

"Well...." Was QA listening to this call right now? It's something they haven't done in several weeks, but the boss may have sicced them to check on my performance today. I peered over the cubicles to the far end where the quality assurance guys sat with their evaluation sheets. No one. Coast was clear. Probably at a meeting. "I'm a bit on the bigger end of the spectrum." Did I just say that? "Although I'm not so sure how my endowment relates to relaxing on the couch to channel surf."

"Ah, a good mental image indeed. I'm looking forward to my weekend respites in front of the flat screen, kicking back, paws up. But I can do that anytime. Not often I converse with a husky with a cute voice and who's apparently hung. How many inches you got hard? I'll start things off. I'm a solid nine."

It would be easy to lie to satisfy this size queen, but I had no need. "Well, don't think I'm trying to one-up you--or, in the case of inches, two...."

"You're blessed with almost a foot of cock?"

"Well, I wouldn't say blessed. Being big sounds good in theory, but no one I've been with could handle the size. I've had my share of embarrassing bedroom moments."

"Shit, come over to my place. I'd make good use of all eleven inches."

"I'm pretty thick, too." Saying that made me blush beneath my fur. I never cared much for talking about my genitalia, but if it meant a sale....

"How do you keep your junk in your pants? Does it just swing around all day as you walk?"

"Well, I tend to grow more than I show, I think."

"I'd love to see that."

"Unfortunately, we exist only as voices."

"Glad you listen," Kalmin said, almost sounding serious. "You wanna get yourself good and hard for me?"

"E-excuse me?"

"Come on! Touch yourself."

My head shot around the room, worried that someone could hear our--for lack of a better word--conversation. "If this were a sex line, I'd more than oblige. Unfortunately, I sell TV, internet, and regular phone services. And it's more crowded here than the taco stands outside during lunch hour."

"Here's the deal, then," he said, clearing his throat. "You said you needed a sale. How about I buy all three of those services and whatever warranties I know you guys need to upsell and you show me a little extra attention. You know, like a preferred customer."

Fuck, he serious? Hesitation crisscrossed my mind like a blazing mental light show. I could hang up on this horny prankster and hope the next call earned me a sale. Or I could risk playing along and possibly pull through with a Grand Slam. Or nothing, if he were to hang up after having dragged me along his sex-frenzied hayride, which I suspected would happen. But a Grand Slam was exactly what I needed to show up the boss and save my hide.

"You're not messing with me, are you? I'll probably lose my job if this turns out to be a no-sale."

"Scout's honor, bro. Just do what I say, and I'll take one of everything."

The buzz of phone static seemed to roar between us, my mouth gaped open like a moron who'd been asked the square root of 121. And the answer he wanted? Each inch that comprised my hard-ons! Dammit. "Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Not much, actually. I'm easy to please. Got your dick whipped out yet? And don't go faking it--I can tell."

"We've got something called a dress policy here. Doesn't explicitly state 'No Whipping Out of Dicks,' but I think it's heavily implied."

"Time to break policy then. I'm already good and hard. Been rubbing off since the beginning of the call, imagining sticking this thing in that coy mouth of yours. Just need a better visual of the entire dog. Describe yourself for me?"

My face burned. I couldn't believe I was doing this. "Well, I've got the nice soft fur typical of my breed, and--you know--the curly tail...."

"Yeah..." he moaned, "perfect for when I top guys like you."

"I, I suppose."

"Love yanking on those tails as I slide in deep." He paused for a breath. "But go on. What's your build? You're not a chubster, are you?"

My lower lip nearly bled from the hesitation. Do I really want to describe myself to this guy? "No, I'm a lean guy," I surrendered. "I do my push-ups in the morning and I hit the gym with a friend, so I've got a nice chest and all that. But I'm not a hulking mass of muscle or anything."

"Oh, no worries. Got that department covered. Have the big chest, six-pack, 'ceps...all the muscly goods you could want, so a leaner guy like you to keep things balanced is perfect."

"So why are you calling me? Sounds like you could hit up the local bar and scoop any guy you want off their feet and have your way with him."

"A good question for another day, but you're killing the boner here. Focus isn't your strong point, is it?"

"Only as strong as your tact."

"Tou-mothafuckin'-ché."

"But where were we?" I continued, knowing my time was limited, as Lámina would be returning soon. But even if she took her sweet-ass time, being in a corner cubicle didn't guarantee privacy from everyone else in the call center. The grumpy old bear could pop in for a visit, demanding a sale. Another coworker could peek their head over my cubicle for whatever reason, probably to ask a question when no one else around knew. I had to act fast. "So, if you like hung, lean guys," I said, unzipping my pants to let the goods hang out, unwilling to risk pretending, "I sound perfect for you."

"Oh, yeah, baby." More eye rolls.

Seductively: "What else you into?" My heart pounded as I jerked myself off from underneath the desk. Getting nervous, I took a quick peek across the room. Coast was clear...so far.

"I don't ask for much," he said. "You hard?"

"Close. Got a long, thick husky dick." I kept stroking, focusing on the sensitive glans, my dick stiffening with each heartbeat. "It takes a moment to get completely hard."

"Damn, that's what I'm talking about." I could hear him groaning a little through the phone. I imagined he was stroking himself off with a bit more fervor. "Talk to me."

"Well, what types of positions do you like?"

"I'm a simple guy with simple needs. Like guys riding my dick while I sit on the couch and watch."

"Like to touch?"

"Wouldn't pass feeling up an eleven-incher. But you can start things off."

"How about you imagine me straddling you on your couch," I suggested, glancing at the time inhabiting the corner of my computer screen. Had to hurry and get this show on the road. "Damn, you got some nice muscles. My paws are rubbing up against your meaty chest then down toward your hard abs, down all that sleek fur."

"Thatta boy," Kalmin said, allaying the awkwardness I felt from roleplaying. I figured he had his eyes closed, imagining what I'm saying. Never done anything like this before. "You like?"

"You're getting me so hard. Can barely wrap my paw around my dick." God, that sounded cheesy. "I'm rubbing my ass against you. Can feel that big rod of yours prodding against my hole." My face was on fire. "I drop my head to yours, rub my muzzle into your mane. Your smell is intoxicating."

"Now we're talking." Kalmin's breathing became noticeable, and through all his soft moaning I could hear the faint sound of the lion beating off. "Damn, you feel good. What do you want me to do to you?"

"Stick that big cock in me," I whispered. "I'm hungry for it." Fucking hell. Even I winced at that.

"Beg for it."

Pausing for a shocked second, I then muttered, "P-please."

"Got a nice thick cock that's ready for ya. If you really want it, you gotta try a little harder than that."

"Please," I said, sounding pathetic. I glanced around, worried someone was eavesdropping. Still clear. I pressed the mouthpiece closer, then whispered, "Just give it to me."

The lion groaned, a mix of pleasure and amusement. "All right," Kalmin chuckled, a manly sort of grunt. "Since you insist. Ever have a dick inside you before, Theo?"

"N-no."

"Well, just imagine a rock-hard nine-inch dick pressing inside you...damn, you're tight."

I had to stop. This whole thing was weird and the fur standing on end warned that my luck would soon run dry. Someone was bound to catch me in the act. The fluorescent tubes overhead shined down on me like a damn spotlight, telling everyone to come look--come see what I'm doing! "I don't think I'm comfortable with this."

"Never been with another guy at all?"

"Of course not!"

"Ever thought about it?" My pause made Kalmin smile big, I could sense it. "Then this is perfect, dude. You can play along from the safety of your imagination. Come on, what does it feel like to have my big dick inside you?"

After a pause, I finally said, "You're stretching me tight. You feel so big."

"You're so warm inside. Got pre-cum leaking like mad here, making you nice and slick." The lion's lustful groans betrayed his arousal, the fact that he was touching himself. "What do you want me to do to you now?"

"I want you...I want you to fuck me." Whispering that made my cock throb despite my mind bitching at me for playing along. All of this was wrong. Despite that, I could feel some of my own pre-cum beading at the tip of my aching dick.

"I'll start slow then, ease you into things. I thrust back and forth, nice and easy, feeling that tight husky hole of yours swallowing all nine inches of thick lion cock. Feel my broad paws stroking the fur on your back, all that nice lean muscle underneath. I move down to squeeze your taut ass, my mouth exploring those hard nipples of yours, the fur on your chest and belly."

"Damn..." I played along, "feels so good." But the thought of the lion's huge dick inside me, of the lion touching me, sent another charge to my crotch. The tautophony of my arm brushing back and forth against the fabric of my pants grew louder. "Faster."

"I grasp your tail, tugging at it, start slamming into you, feeling those nice husky ass cheeks slapping against my body. Oh, man, can't get over how good you feel." Could hear him beating off in the phone through his irregular breathing. This only got me more excited, my dick throbbing in my paw. A warning.

"Keep going," I said, imagining the lion pounding me with all he had, his strong hands holding me tight. "Feels so good. My dick is so hard just thinking about you inside me."

"Yeah?" he managed through a labored breath. But that's all he said for a while--went full concentration mode. We listened to each other pawing off. I kept my moans quiet, while Kalmin grunted and growled lustfully. Could almost feel his hot breath through the phone. Finally, he whispered, "I'm so close." More hot panting as he stroked faster. With tense satisfaction, the phone exploded with his climax. "Urghh...grrrrr...ah, yeah. Fuuuuck."

My own dick was ready to blow, the sensation of an impending orgasm shooting its waves of pleasure up my body. It took everything I had to stop my paw from finishing the job, my dick so hard from wanting to cum I could bust the computer screen with it. Ejaculating all over my cubicle? No way I could clean everything and not get caught! I breathed out.

"Damn, man," the lion cooed. "Got cum all over my chest and stomach. Even shot myself in the face a couple times. You're a natural! Sorry I kinda dropped out there at the end."

"No worries," I said. Time to calm down and let my dick soften so I could stow it away before Lámina returned. Thinking about it, she'd been gone for a while now. "Glad I could help." Honestly, I was embarrassed about the whole thing. Imagine reading a transcript of what we just said to each other? "So, let's go ahead and get your services started." I hurried through a few prompts on my screen, clicking on the services Kalmin said he would buy. My erection slowly subsided as I focused on work--almost to the point I could stuff myself back into my jeans. "I've got you set up for our television, internet, and phone package as well as the home protection plan and the computer service upgrade. I just need to verify your address and your payment information."

Waiting for Kalmin to respond, the headphones only offered the background hiss of telephone silence. The sales board loomed in the corner, empty white squares still inhabiting a row next to my name. One of the coaches marked another sale from her team.

"Hello?" I said. Again, the silence. "Hell-o?"

What. The. Fuck.

My heart began to pound. Was I duped? Less than an hour remained of my shift. The computer still said we were connected.

"What do you think you're trying to pull?" Kalmin finally demanded.

"Uh, sorry?"

"I asked for the preferred customer treatment, not some fake orgasm bullshit. I wanted you to cum for me."

"I, I did."

"I've been around the block a few times, kid. That's not the sound of a guy getting off."

"What are you doing?" Lámina's voice shot my fur up into spikes. I closed my legs together, concealing my dick. Thank god it'd gone soft. I slammed the mute button.

"Uh, trying to clinch this sale."

"Oh? Sorry, you were just sitting and talking a little funny." Lámina slumped into her seat next to me. So far, no indication she caught me still holding my dick. "Anyway, I stopped by the site lead's office to let him know you were doing a great job, just the calls were bad. Seemed distracted at his desk with something, but he told me to send you to his office after your call. Better get that sale, I think!"

As Lámina spoke, the lion on the phone kept pestering with a "Hello? Hello?" every few seconds. I nodded at Lámina, thanking her for stepping up for me. She mirrored a polite smile before slinging on her headset to take another call and finish up her shift.

"Yeah, yeah," I said back to the lion. "Look, sorry about that, 'kay? But you gotta understand, I've got people right next to me. I can't go shooting off all over my desk."

"Not the deal, bud. I want you to cum nice and hard for me. Do that and I'll take one of everything as promised."

A stammered reply fell weakly from my mouth, a jumble of words that made no sense nor offered me any recourse. Kalmin chuckled as if understanding my plight. But a deal was a deal.

I rolled my chair in as close as possible, concealing my lower body beneath the desk as much as I could, the desk's edge pressing uncomfortably against my mid-riff like a vice. I snuck a hand to the flaccid meat pressed between my thighs, releasing it.

"You good and hard again?"

"Working on it."

"Good."

My paw worked my dick faster, but the stress of Lámina sitting right next to me made it difficult to get hard. I closed my eyes. Imagined sexy thoughts.

"So, what do you like? Buff guys like me, I hope?"

"Like I said, never been with a guy before."

"Never ever? You're missing out!"

"I somehow doubt that."

"Gotta ease you into things first. Imagine my paw stroking you off instead of yours."

"Uh...."

"Just imagine it. Think of a tall, handsome lion pressed up tight against your body from behind. Feel all that hard muscle against you, the bulging chest, those abs. Imagine my big dick hotdogging between your fuzzy ass."

A moan escaped my maw, drifting like a sigh into my mouthpiece, as I hardened up again, my malehood pressing against the bottom of the desk. Not knowing the exact details of Kalmin's appearance, I imagined some nondescript musclebound lion gripping me close, my warmth, his warmth intermingling as his member pressed against my rear. My paw became his, clutching the erect piece of husky-meat tucked away under the desk, stroking me off, making me feel good. The familiar sensations of pleasure coursed through me as the paw went through the motions. Kalmin's smile blared from the other side of the line.

Never thought of another guy like this, much less in a call center with coworkers around. I'd have to psychoanalyze how I felt about this later; I had to get off--quick.

"Yeah," I moaned. "Feels good." Admitting that made my face flush. I'm surprised the rest of my body hadn't gone into shock with how often this happened today.

The lion on the other end groaned pleasurably, egging me on, describing how he was teasing me from behind, tugging my fur, nipping at an ear. But we already did some of that. Time for something different.

"How about I get behind you instead?"

"There we go, that's what I've been waiting to hear," the lion said. "You wanna work my ass or something?"

"Think you're manly and strong enough to take all eleven inches?"

"Try me. I'm presenting myself for you, my tail high in the air. Whatcha' want to do to me?"

"I get behind that ass of yours, give it a firm squeeze with both paws, testing to see if it's ready for some thick husky meat."

"Man, feeling you handle me like that," the lion purred, "it's getting me hard again."

"Let's get straight to business, shall we?"

"Do it."

"I'm stretching your cheeks out, looking at that hungry tailhole of yours."

"Mmm...yeah."

"Grabbing my hard dick with a paw, guiding it to your hole, the huge head of my cock straining against that tight ring of muscle."

"Stick it in me, dude. All of it."

"I slide in slowly, give a teasing thrust."

"God, you're so big."

"I keep humping, thrusting, getting deeper inside you. My large balls slap against your ass as I hit home."

Kalmin growled his approval. "Fuck yeah. You're making me arch my back, my muscles quivering from the pain and pleasure. Keep fucking me."

"The thought of you taking my whole dick makes me want to cum so bad," I whispered, a throb of pleasure sending its warning signals of an impending climax again as I worked my dick over quickly.

But then Kalmin fell quiet, although I could still hear his steady breathing. My paw stroked my long veiny dick, the feeling coaxing a few small grunts and moans from my maw. I kept imagining myself pounding the lion, going balls deep, the tight warm tunnel taking all eleven inches, making me feel so good. "God," I whispered, sucking in a breath. Kalmin moaned approvingly. Lámina adjusted herself, still talking to a customer. I beat myself off faster, my tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. The thought of someone able to handle my full length aroused me to no end.

Breaths pressed passed my lungs in quiet unsteady bursts. My eyes winced shut as I bit my lower lip. My whole body finally shuddered. I plastered the inside of my palm with warmth, filling my little cubicle with the musky scent of a satisfied canine. Restraining a pleasurable groan as my dick throbbed again and again, warm seed almost dripping from my cupped paw, I instead resigned with a satisfying sigh before panting softly, catching my breath.

"Thatta boy," Kalmin said. "An award-winning cumshot right there." I stole a quick glance at the mess in my paw--maybe he was right. "Just hearing you breathing like that got me so hard again. Gotta save up my juice for later, though!" The lion chuckled. "What do you need?"

"What?" I said, still trying to figure out what to do with the pawful of my seed. No napkins or tissues nearby. Dammit.

"You need my contact info, right? Full name, address, credit card number, all that?"

"Oh, right!"

Didn't know what to do with my dirty left paw, so I just held it cupped on my lap, making sure nothing dripped for an embarrassing clean up later. Couldn't risk running to the bathroom for a quick handwash and have Kalmin hang up. Typing with one paw it was!

Phone etiquette. Manners. Kalmin had them. I was surprised, shocked even, how we greased through the motions of my script, the lion giving a yes or an explanation of understanding as I read my parts (I took a quick sec as we spoke to tuck my dick away when it finally softened). Agreed to all the upsells. Kept wisecracks to a minimum. Almost wished all my customers were like this!

My right paw flew all over the keyboard. When he recited his address, my fingers froze briefly before continuing. Same state--and his city, some hole-in-the-wall type of place I've never visited, was a 30-minute drive from my hometown. I mean, we got customers from the same state all the time, but to think a guy like this lived so close....

"S-sorry, could you repeat your address?"

"Yeah, it's 1325 North Westwood Circle. Hold on a sec.... Oh, interesting!"

"What is it?"

"Add those numbers up and it's your dick size!"

"What?" Dang...and he was doing so well, too.

"One plus three plus two plus five. What does that equal?"

First-grade math skills don't fail me now! My free paw did the dark lord's dirty work and helped me add. Kalmin was right: Eleven.

"Interesting," I said--yeah, like a bucket of rocks. Had to hurry. Lámina teetered on the edge of finishing up a sale too, and I didn't want her catching me with husky-juice all over a paw. "Anyway, please stay on the line and I'll go ahead and get you transferred over to the installation department."

"Thanks, man. Grade A customer service. You deserve a raise!"

I chuckled despite myself. "Tell me about it. Take care." I placed Kalmin on mute, dialing up the installation service. The other line picked up, some guy who seemed to speak in squeaks; I gave him Kalmin's information. When he pulled up the account with all the requested services, squeakster boy gave me the go-ahead to transfer.

Unmute: "All right, Kalmin, I've got Installation on the line. They'll get the rest of the process handled for ya."

"Cheers, dude. Thanks again." I hit mute, listening in for a few seconds as I usually did, making sure that Installation could hear the customer.

"Hi, there," the installation guy squeaked. "Looks like you're getting all three services set up with us, is that correct?"

"Yeah, man. The guy who helped me has an 11-inch dick!"

"Uh...."

I disconnected. I clutched my paw still sticky with cum and adjusted my pants and fly with the other, making sure everything was stowed away properly. Lámina pushed herself from her desk, ready to announce a sale. From the corner of my eyes, I watched as her nose and whiskers twitched. "What's that smell?"

Acting as if I didn't hear Lámina, I raised my clean paw as I stood, and shouted, "Grand Slam!" to the bear who was busy haranguing another of us minions. My headset clattered onto the desk.

"Nice comeback, Theo!" Blackie's compliment chased my tail as I slipped through the door and down the hallway, careful to avoid the gazes of my fellow reps.

Seriously. Look for "What the hell just happened" in the dictionary and find a picture of this: A frantic two-toned husky, a sticky fist held tight against my midsection, ears flat as the fritters the cafeteria down the hall fried up, eyes shifting away from the couple employees wandering around.

Shouldering through the men's restroom door, I jammed my paws under the automatic sink, waiting for the water to kick in. Nothing. I moved my paws again. A toilet flushed, the sound of shuffling and pants being zipped up warning me of an oncoming intruder.

"Come on," I muttered, shaking my hands beneath the dead sink. I moved to the next one, which sprung to life just as my neighbor, the big-boned Landseer with a similar black-and-white color scheme as I had, flung his door open. Sauntering towards the nearest sink, he tapped at his head-fur in the mirror, making sure everything was right. He left without washing. "Remind me to avoid his desk," I told myself as soap and water laved away my shame.

Disbelief took my head for a spin. Did I just pull that off? Lámina didn't seem to notice--kept an eye on her the whole time, although I'd have to concoct some sort of lie about the smell. The bear would have yanked me out of my seat without hesitation, so I'm good there. No one peeked over to spy on me beating off in my cubicle, either. However, the boss wanted me to pay him an office visit, probably to issue another reprimand for my lack of sales. The Grand Slam today should buy me forgiveness and more time.

The restroom door waved shut behind me as I headed for the site lead's office. Ignoring the growl of hunger as those damn tasty scents wafted from the cafeteria, I strode into the call floor towards the room at the end, stopped at the boss's door with a breath, then knocked before stepping in when I heard him give the go-ahead.

"Hey, Theodore, come in," the boss-lion said, his paws locked together calmly on his desk. The fur on the back of my neck stood, warning me of the false politeness in his voice. "Please lock the door behind you. We have something important to discuss. Don't want interruptions."

Shit, I thought. Shit, shit, shit.

The lock clicked apologetically. I joined the lion at his desk in the same seat in which I sat this morning. Twice in one day. Not good.

"So, I heard you got a Grand Slam just now." The lion's eyes were expressionless, just a sandy sort of brown--a vast, empty desert. "Your only sale for the day, but at least you went all in to get it. Good job."

"Yeah, thanks. Got lucky, I suppose."

"We all know you can sell. Just a string of bad calls. Luck of the dice." He punctuated each sentence with a nod, that rusty-brown mane shifting so slightly, sending whispers of his intentions for saying such things.

"Yeah."

"Bumped into Lámina earlier. She said you got harassed by the same caller that Sam and Max did. Is that so?"

"Yep. Total pervert. Wish I'd hung up sooner, but it took me a sec to realize it was a crank call."

The lion raised an eyebrow. "Just the one call from him?"

I froze. Even my tail refused a single twitch. He was stringing me along a line of questioning to see if I'd back myself into a corner. The lion noticed my hesitation and smiled, flashing the large points of his teeth.

"Only QAs and coaches know I can do this, but I can track specific phone numbers and which agents receive them."

"Oh?" I said. My mouth was sapped of all moisture.

"So, of course, after hearing multiple complaints about this caller, I had to track him down and get a recording of him harassing our agents. And guess which agent he ends up with for my recording?"

"M-me."

"Precisely." The lion paused like some Disney movie villain. I half-expected the back of his office to glow green. "Interesting sales tactic, Theodore, although I don't remember your training covering that sort of...strategy. Here, have a listen." The lion clicked at his computer, my voice springing to life on the speakers--my moaning, Kalmin edging me on. I sat there and listened, my entire body on fire from embarrassment. I wished all this extra heat would melt my entire body--fur, bones, muscles, everything--into a giant puddle, and that I could just evaporate away into the ventilation system and dissipate into the air away from here. Away from it all.

My voice on the speakers sighed, marking my climax. "Thatta boy," Kalmin's own voice said. "An award-winning cumshot right there."

The site lead paused the recording. My eyes focused on his desk, the jumble of papers, pens, and paperclips. Couldn't manage to bark up an excuse, something to justify my actions. My mouth opened, then closed. Opened again. Closed. The site lead lifted an eyebrow. Finally, "Am I fired?"

"Well, you've certainly placed me in a pickle, Theodore." He stood. Adjusted his damn tie again. A small gut strained against his business shirt--too many weekend beers--and below that, an erection against his dress slacks. "But I am curious. Eleven inches. Damn, how does a pup like you get so lucky?"

"S-sorry?" Couldn't tear my eyes away from his crotch.

"Your dick, Theodore! To think all this time...." The lion's gaze undressed my nether regions. I became painfully aware of my own body, as if I were naked in a packed auditorium, all eyes on me. My paw clutched at the bottom hem of my shirt. "Now, I can arrange for a little computer accident. The recording of your little sex-line session gets deleted. No one knows of this little incident. We move on."

"In return, you want me to be your personal office slut, right?"

"'Slut' is such a harsh word these days. Just treat this like a business transaction. You show me a good time, whip out that big piece o' meat of yours, and you keep your job here without a hitch."

I tugged at the bottom hem of my shirt so hard I thought I would rip my shirt off. My eyes soured shut into a grimace. What the hell was I supposed to do? The idea of a sexual harassment suit crossed my mind, but I knew how these things would work: he'd just produce the recording as evidence, would say that I freaked out when he had to let me go, and that the whole sexual harassment suit was just retaliation for being fired. Plus, I'm a guy--weren't we all supposed to man up to these things or something?

"Don't think so much. Not like you'll be my sex slave here all day long. Thinking like once a week tops. Too many eyes. Someone will notice if you stop by too often." The lion gave me a thoughtful look, then he clutched at the heft of his cock, still impressively erect. "If it's any consolation, I'm pretty big myself, although certainly not 11-inches big."

"I-I'm not even into other guys! I just wanted to make a damn sale to save myself from being tossed into the fire!"

"Well, you're burning up as we speak. Your fuse is short, so you'll need to decide." The lion crossed his arms, sitting back on the edge of his desk. "How 'bout I up the ante a bit? A coach position opens in a month. I'll make sure you get it. Much easier than handling customers on the phones all day. You'll get a raise and paid time off. Both of us benefit."

My mouth opened to protest, a flash of teeth and fury. My fists clenched, claws threatening to carve fresh openings into my paw pads. But then my tense muscles loosened. Would it be so bad? Coaches almost never got fired if their team did well enough. The raise and paid time off would be nice while I finished college. Would it be so bad blowing my load with the boss on the regular? Getting him to blow his? Could learn to like it. Maybe I already did and just didn't know it?

I stood calmly, fingers relaxing at my side, then lifted my gaze to his. "No deal," I said. "I quit."

"What a waste," the lion said nonchalantly, as if some other agent with a dick as big as mine was already in line to take the offer. As he turned to sit back down, I watched the fluff at the end of his tail whip about mockingly. The chair groaned under his weight, and he spun around without another word.

My legs carried me to the cubicle that would no longer be mine, my body penetrating the din of phone conversations and idle chit-chat. Gritting my teeth together, I held back tears as I collected my few things. Really, just the headset that came out of my own pocket, a notepad, some scrap paper, and a couple pens. Lámina shot up when she saw me, asking if she could put the customer on hold before slapping the mute button.

"No, don't tell me...."

"Sorry, Lámina. Tired of drowning in this place."

She brought her arms in for a hug, our whiskers crossing paths as my head nestled on her shoulder. Probably the biggest emotional display I've ever seen from her. Returning the hug almost made me burst into tears, but I held it in. I'm a big boy.

"Call me, all right?" Lámina said as we released the embrace. "Let's get together. I'll help you get through this."

"Thanks for everything. You made this place bearable."

She waved a quiet goodbye before returning to her customer. Could feel her eyes following me as I turned the corner from our little row in the back, heading out. I waved the bear a goodbye for good measure before slinking down the hall of food smells for the stairs, my footfalls landing heavily on each step as I headed for the first-floor exit.

The sun still blasted the parking lot, which radiated an uncomfortable warmth, making me question the benefits of my lineage living in such a hot state. I batted away cigarette fumes from a couple agents taking a quick break, a third agent joining them, trying to bum a smoke. My ride was nestled somewhere in the sea of vehicles, a dinky, metallic-teal compact car on the last leg of its life--all I could afford. Tossing in all the stuff I carried as a blast of that inside-car heat nearly singed my fur off, I kicked the engine to life and headed out, the radio coughing up with static.

While navigating the city towards the highway entrance, I kept a lookout for hiring and help wanted signs. Could probably find a student job at my university, but I heard the pay and hours there were so limited. A growl escaped me as my fist struck the hot steering wheel. I gunned a risky left turn at the intersection to the highway entrance, a car honking as it blared past.

My mind still racing within the red zone, my foot slammed onto the accelerator, my car blasting onto the freeway, merging in with ease. Thanks to losing my job a few minutes before the shift ended, I was able to miss the main swell of evening traffic. Small miracles, am I right?

"Small miracles my ass!" I yelled. But who was at fault here? The boss for laying down the pressure so thick this morning? Blackie and always being such a hard-ass on the salesfloor? The perverted customer that roped me into playing along with his sex-line escapade?

"Your fault, dude. Shouldn't have gotten so desperate for a fucking sale." Sucking back a sigh, my eyes lit up as a death-green highway mileage sign approached. My turn was in two miles, but something else called me to travel twelve miles further. I merged into the passing lane and gunned it towards a place I've never visited.

* * *

Got lucky. Stopped to fill up the tank, though all I really needed was a breather to think things through. I remembered Circle as part of Kalmin's address. What was the rest? Two cardinal directions in the name. North something. West? Why am I even here in the first place? An eleven-inch woody, that's what got me here. "Hmm...." Wood? Westwood, that's right. North Westwood Circle. But now the house number. Started with either a 13 or 15, but I wasn't quite sure.

As I paid for the gas, I asked the cashier in the convenience store, a young Samoyed with fur so soft and white he'd make bank as a professional pillow, if he knew Westwood Circle. The town was small, so it was worth a shot. He whipped out a smartphone, said he could look up the address for me. Felt ashamed of the cheap flip phone in my pocket, but I had other things to worry about now. What was the house number? A 13 started it, I think. The second half eluded me. My mind was a jumbled fog of possible numbers.

"Eleven," I said. Enlightenment struck.

"Eleven?" the Samoyed repeated.

"One plus three plus two plus...five!" I remembered.

"Uh, so 1325 North Westwood Circle?"

"Y-yeah, sorry." The Samoyed showed me the directions on the GPS app on his phone. Kalmin lived only a few blocks from here. "Think I got it. Thanks!"

Got lucky--didn't get lost or anything. Here I was, car jilting to a stop in front of the lion's house, a light-blue bungalow big enough for a family of four. The house was nestled in the middle of a cul-de-sac, away from passing cars and the foot-traffic of too many neighbors. A sprinkler rattled water across a well-manicured yard, a young aspen quaking from a shy wind in the direct center. My paw paused at the handle of the car door. What was I doing here? What was I planning to do exactly? Knock him out? Demand an apology? What if the guy ended up having a wife and kids or something? Why bother driving all the way to a small town I haven't thought twice about until now?

"Because if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have gotten fuckin' fired."

I stamped up his driveway with still no idea what I would say or do, smashing a finger into the doorbell. My fists clenched at my sides. My chest rose and fell. The door opened, a huge lion wearing nothing but a pair of dark-blue shorts filling up the frame. His fur, a mix of tans and light browns, looked damp, as if he was fresh from a shower. The wonderful smell of dough and meat baking wafted out the door. Probably a pizza. The growl in my stomach made me realize I haven't eaten since breakfast. Anger plus hunger? Not a good combination right now.

True to his description, the lion bulged in all the right places, while the damp fur intensified the lines of muscle. A full auburn mane tapered into a thin trail of fur that teased down the crevice of his chest and abdominals before disappearing into the bulge behind the only piece of clothing he wore. I glared up at the cool blueness of his eyes, unafraid that the imposing lion stood a good foot taller. But my fists unclenched. Kalmin looked oddly familiar.

"Hey, you from Installation?" Kalmin's tail whipped about cordially behind him. A broad paw scratched at his chest. "Just got off the phone like 30 minutes ago. You guys are fast! Ain't even tomorrow yet."

"It's me," I stated, hurling each syllable at the dumb fuck of a lion. My fists clenched again. My tail stood at attention, ready for a fight. "Theodore."

"Theodore?" the lion said, a puzzled look rearranging his face. "You mean, from the phone just now?"

"See you hold true to your name, Mr. Manly-and-Strong," I spat, looking him up and down as if unimpressed. "Kalmin."

A smile crept up the lion's face, showing off a hint of sharp teeth. He gave a few quiet nods, as if he understood something that I didn't. "God's gift," Kalmin said, throwing a humorous look of gratefulness at the sky. He stepped aside, indicating for me to come in. "You really do hold true to your name!"

I unclenched my fists, still no clue as to what I was doing, and walked into his home.