So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part Two
[So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part One](%5C)
So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part Two
[So A Husky Walks Into A Bar: Part Three](%5C)
Me and Sasha worked fast; since the bar had to be open at 6, we had to take care of all our tasks before then. It was New Year's, one of the best nights of the year for business. We had quite a few affairs to take care of. First, me and Sasha had to drive out to the motel she was staying out and get her stuff to move into my place. I drove my 2015 Dodge Dissonance to the run-down old place, and got out. The air in this section of town was offensive to my new nose; I wrinkled my muzzle as I stepped out. "Phew; a little ripe, wouldn't you say?"
Sasha fished her keys out of her pocket. As she opened the door to the small room, she said "I'm sorry if it offends your sensibilities, but some of us don't have the money to live on Airfreshener Road."
I smirked, and as I stepped inside, I stroked her curly tail. "Do I detect a hint of bitterness?"
She yipped in surprise, and turned around and nipped my nose playfully. She said "Not in the slightest. After all, you should see what I'm going to do to your home. Potpourri, anyone?"
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please, no... Not pleasant-smelling objects!"
She started opening drawers. "I'm also throwing out all those lamps of yours. They're hideous."
I blinked. "But you can't! They're antiques!"
She started repacking her meager wardrobe into her suitcase. "Antique is just a word for something no one's ever had the courage to dispose of humanely. If it makes your heart bleed so much, I'll just stuff them in a closet somewhere I don't have to look at them."
I started folding her clothes for travel. "And I thought the instinct to rearrange a male's household was just a cheesy comedy gag."
Sasha draped her arms around my neck, and kissed my cheek. "Sorry, foxy, but it's real all right. At least you get other... Benefits, at least."
I reached around and grasped her butt. "Do tell..."
She moaned, but disengaged. "Not here; God only knows what's happened in this godforsaken place. Wait until closing time tonight; maybe I'll be buzzed enough to go for another round."
I whistled as I held up a pair of her panties. After she snatched them away, I said "Did you forget? Tonight's New Year's. We're going to be working till past 1."
She got out what looked like a toiletries bag, and playfully shook it, smiling mysteriously. "I know. I figured, what way to set the tone for the New Year than a good late-night rut?"
I was distracted. "Eh... What's in the bag?"
She hid it in her suitcase. "Wouldn't you like to know."
I zipped up one of her carry-ons. "Look, if you're smuggling drugs, I'd like to know now, so I can call some friends."
She laughed. "It's not drugs, I promise. If you're so curious, you can find out after work tonight." She looked around, and said "Okay, that looks like everything."
I scratched myself absent-mindedly. "Good. I think I caught fleas."
Later, as we pulled into the parking lot of a mall, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to her. "Here. This should help things along."
She took it, and looked at it curiously. "What do you mean?"
I got out of the car, and shut the door. "I mean that you're going to go buy whatever you want in there, INCLUDING, I should add, that outfit we talked about this morning, while I go sit in the food court and consume pure fat."
She giggled, and held my hand as we walked inside. "You're not coming?"
"Sweetheart, no matter what you've heard or read all males burst into flames whenever we enter women's clothing stores. Any guys you see in there are already neutered."
She found this more than a little entertaining, and as we passed into the threshold of the mall, she snuggled into my side. "I appreciate this, Jack. You know, I just met you yesterday, do you want to think about this some more?"
I put my arm around her, and squeezed. "Honey, I stopped thinking when I saw you yesterday and haven't started since."
"Aww... That's so sweet! Do you think of all these on the spot?"
I scratched the underside of my muzzle. "I'd like to say that I do, but I don't. I used to fantasize a lot, so I have a pretty big reservoir of cute things to say."
She reached her head up, and nosed the underside of my muzzle. "Well, can't win 'em all. This is my stop; you said you'd be in the food court, right?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I'll be the guy screaming about how I found an eye in my burger. Have fun, and for God's sake don't bankrupt me."
She hugged me again, quietly said "Thank you," and rushed inside like a furred whirlwind.
I shook myself, and muttered "There goes my retirement fund." I shoved my paws in my pocket, and started wandering. It'd be a while before Sasha was through, so I just meandered through the halls, admiring the shiny stuff. I did make one purchase for myself, though; since my transformation, I couldn't fit my new paws into my shoes. I stopped by a specialty store and bought a couple of pairs of tasteful leather paw-shoes. Breaking my purchases in, I made my way to the food court. After checking that I had enough money for my order, I approached the counter at my favorite fast-food restaurant, Mickey Donalds (sue me now, a-holes!).
I smiled politely at the service lady, and enunciated "Excuse me, could I please get a medium cheeseburger with fries, and a small soft drink?"
She just stared at me for a second, and said "I... I'm sorry, sir, but we've run out of patties."
I frowned in confusion. "Say what? I can see, like, ten just through that window."
She stuttered. "I mean, we're out of soda."
Without turning my head, I looked out of the corner of my eye at a mother helping a child reach the soda fountain, which dispensed the carbonated liquid on command. I turned my gaze back to her, and raised an eyebrow.
She sighed, and leaned against the counter. "Alright, alright... Look, we're not supposed to serve your kind here."
My other eyebrow rose. "My kind?"
She fished a mirror out of her pocket and turned it so I could see. I glanced at it momentarily, and smoothed my hair a little. "Yes, I can see. I'm a Malis. So?"
"So... So we can't serve you."
I placed both hands on my side of the counter. I was starting to get angry. "So by mere virtue of me having a muzzle instead of a face, I can't partake of your variety of artery-clogging gunk?"
"I'm sorry, sir; it's policy."
I switched my tail back and forth irately. A line was starting behind me, but I had other things on my mind. "Oh, it's okay because it's policy, is it? Tell me, dear; I can't imagine it's franchise policy, so that leaves two options; personal policy or managerial." I snarled. "So either you're a bag of slime, or your boss is."
She drew back from me. "It's... It's managerial."
I growled. "Ah. So that's the way it is. Now listen here, minimum-wage. When you see your boss, I want you to tell him he's an asshole. Think you can handle that?"
People behind me were starting to mumble to each other, and the waitperson tried to defuse the situation one last time. "Sir, if you could just keep this civil..."
I nearly bit her. "Civil? CIVIL?!" The last word was loud enough for most everybody to hear. I kept speaking at about that same volume level. "Civil stopped when you told me to go fuck myself just because I'm a Malis! Civil went right out the window then! Good DAY!"
I turned on my heel and stormed off to find a restaurant that wouldn't turn up their nose at me. I finally found a decent sandwich shop, and sat in the courtyard, munching on a club sandwich. As I ate, my rage abated, until I was left with a vague sense of annoyance, which itself was soon lost. I dismissed the slap on the face as an isolated incident, the sort of thing caused by a single bigot in a position of limited power. I struggled for a moment with my drink, as a straw does not lend itself easily to a muzzle, and when I looked up, I saw two police officers enter the area, and get called over to a table. I glanced away, thinking that it was probably a purse-snatching. When I looked back, I saw the two talking to the waitperson at Mickey Donalds. I swallowed. Uh-oh.
I looked away and tried to appear non-threatening, and swore to myself when I saw the lady point at me. I held my eyes to my plate with sheer force of will until the officers reached my table. I looked up, and forced a smile. "May I help you, officers?"
One of them, a big beefy-looking guy, crossed his arms. "Sir, we got a 911 call that said someone matching your description was causing a public disturbance."
I coughed. "Well, I don't know about a disturbance, but there was a little bit of an incident. See, I was trying to order some food from that Mickey Donalds over there," I said, pointing. "The person on the counter came right out and said that they don't serve Malises, and I got a little heated. After all, how would you feel if someone didn't serve you because you were a policeman?"
The bigger one flipped open a notebook. "It says here you called her 'a bag of slime', 'minimum-wage', and 'an asshole'."
I shrugged. "Technically, that last one was her boss. She said it was managerial policy."
The big one glared at me, and I gulped. He started to say something when I heard someone behind us. "Jack, what's going on?"
I looked over my shoulder, and saw Sasha. She was carrying several bags, and was looking concernedly at the scene. I tried to be cool. "Nothing, Sasha. There was a little thing over at the Mickey Donalds. It's over now."
The smaller policeman, a blond, looser-looking guy, asked "Do you know this person, ma'am?"
She dropped her bags next to my table, and put her paws on my shoulders. The message was unmistakable; 'This belongs to me, so hands off.' "Of course I know him, officers. This is my mate, Jack Anderson."
My heart leaped in my chest to hear her refer to me as such. Mate... Such a lovely word.
The smaller officer shot a look at the big one, who plowed ahead. "This Malis was seen making a public scene, swearing prolifically in front of the general populace. We were about to..."
The smaller officer tapped the larger one on the shoulder, and led him away. However, they must not have known how well Malises can hear, as we understood every word they said.
"Look, Johnson, so what if he snapped? It's unfair to discriminate like that. Besides, it's New Years. I think we can cut them a little slack."
"Brock, I know you like to give everyone second chances, but I've seen this type. They're just going to keep on and on until they get what they want. They say they want equality, but what they want is superiority. If we don't slap them down as soon as they get up, it's a sign of weakness."
"Superiori... For God's sake, he just wanted to buy a cheeseburger! If we start arresting everyone who has a meltdown in public, the lock-up'll be full in hours. Besides, that's his wife there! If we hauled him off to jail now, it'd just be cartoonishly evil. We'd go from The Boys in Blue to Cobra freaking Commander!"
A sigh. "Fine, fine. It'll probably be easier to just give him a warning. Saves us from having to touch him."
The two came back up to us. We tried to act like we hadn't heard every word. The bigger one, Johnson, I guess, said "Alright, we're going to let you off with a warning. Try to keep your temper in check next time."
I smiled, for real this time. "Thank you, officers." I almost put out my paw to shake, but thought better of it. As they went back to whence they came, Sally finally sat down, and pushed her head close to mine. "What was that about?"
I kissed her cheek. "Nothing, sweetheart... Just some manager at Mickey Donald's that didn't want to serve Malises. I yelled a little, and went somewhere else to eat."
Sasha gasped, and grasped my hand. "That's terrible!"
I waved my other hand. "No, Sasha, it's alright, it's just a thing."
I saw that her eyes were beginning to cloud with tears. "It's not alright! I should never have forced you to sleep with me, now you're going to get this everywhere you go!"
I choked back a laugh, and whispered "Sssh! Not so loud, puppy, or you're going to cause some parents of young children out here to be very uncomfortable. Now, I don't want to hear another word about this 'forcing me' business. I hit that knowing full well the implications. Now, cheer yourself up and show me what you bought."
She sniffled a little, and I dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. She laughed, and pushed my hand away. Rustling in the bag, she said "First, about what we were talking about earlier..."
Her paws came to light, holding what had to be the lowest-cut shirt-skirt combo I had ever seen. I inhaled soft drink, and had to cough for about a solid minute. I pawed at my mouth with a napkin, and finally said "Do you think you could put that on for me before we leave?"
She laughed, and held up the clothes to her body. She winked at me. "Do you like what you see?"
I smiled. "Like it, heck; I'm crazy about it. Now, if we could just do something about the stuff in front of it..."
She blushed. "Ooh, you fuzzy little pervert... You're not getting any until the New Year."
I put my paws behind my head. "I can wait. What else did you get?"
Sasha showed me the other clothes that she'd picked out, and a few *ahem* hygiene items. By that time, I'd finished my sandwich and drink, and it was time to get ready for work. We drove home, chatting about our favorite bands. I had recently found this old rock band from around the Aughts called Sum-41 that I was really digging. Sasha was a fan of the new procedural synth-trance algorithms that were all the rage now; you know, every time you play them, they sound different.
When we got back to my apartment, it was around 4. Sasha and I ordered pizza, and as we waited for it to arrive, I started to wash the stuff Sally had bought, as well as her cute little work outfit so it'd be ready for the New Year's rush. Sasha sorted out her other items, and as she'd promised, stuffed all my lamps into a hall closet. As I was looking for them, I heard a bell. That was the doorbell; I'd set it up so I'd hear it upstairs rather than the bar. I trotted downstairs, and paid the guy for his trouble. I brought it back upstairs, singing operatically in broken Italian.
Sasha appeared out of nowhere; she'd explained to me earlier that she was a pizza fiend. She snatched the box from me, and flipped it open. She looked at it in confusion. "You got half pepperoni, half pineapple and hamburger?"
I took the box back from the cheeky bugger. "Of course. You wanted pepperoni, right?"
"Yeah, I did. I was more questioning how anyone could eat that combination."
I spoke through a mouthful of pineapple pizza. "Don't trash talk my pizza! If you tried it, you'd like it."
She shook her head, and stuck out her tongue. "I would not! That's disgusting."
I proffered a slice. "Try it, you'll like it!"
She drew back. "No!"
I put the box down, and smirked at her. "Oh, so you're going to be like that, are you?"
She took a step back, and tried not to laugh. "And just what does that... Get away from me!"
I advanced on her slowly, a nasty smile spreading over my face. "This is your last chance to try it peacefully."
She turned tail and ran, and I followed. It was a little harder running with the pizza, but I managed. I chased her through the living room, where she vaulted a couch, and through the bedroom, where I caught her as she tried to clamber over the bed. I pinned her gently, and held the slice above her face. "Don't make me force-feed you!"
She said "Jack, if you eat make me eat that, I will bite your furry little..."
What can I say? She shouldn't have opened up her mouth so wide. She reflexively bit off a piece of the slice, and her eyes opened wide. She chewed, thoughtfully. When she was finished, she said "Actually, that wasn't bad."
I leaned back. "I told you. You just need to broaden your... OW!"
I guess she hadn't been kidding about that threat earlier. She'd leaned forward with surprising speed, and lightly clamped her jaws around... Well, I hardly think I need to explain. Needless to say, I got off her sharpish, and retired back to the kitchen, muttering.
After a few minutes, I heard Sasha come back in. I didn't turn to look around, and felt her go into the laundry room. I heard the slam of the dryer, and cloth shuffling. After a minute, she came back into the kitchen, and said "So, Jack, is this how you pictured it?"
I turned around, and said "How I pictured wh..." I was stopped dead in my tracks. Standing behind me was Sasha, wearing her work outfit. It was... Better than I had imagined. Sasha was standing with her hands on her hips, which were cocked at a jaunty angle. She stared at me with half-lidded eyes. But I wasn't looking at her eyes. Her tiny shirt was black silk, with a neckline that wasn't anywhere near the neck. It allowed all of her gorgeous white chest-fluff to spill out, and only just stopped short of letting her breasts out to play. When it ended at her hips, her miniskirt took up the torch. It was black too, but not silk; it was more than a little stiffer. It was only about seven to eight inches long, and when she turned around, modeling for me, I did indeed see what I had hoped to see; her curly little tail lifting the material, almost but not quite showing her panties.
I was stunned. She walked a little closer, and modeled it for me again, brushing her tail against my nose. "I said, is it as good as you imagined?"
I got back my voice. "Honey, it's even better than I thought."
She slunk around, and sat in my lap. She laid the underside of her muzzle on my head, and said "So, tell me; why am I wearing this, while you get to wear whatever you want?"
I put my arms around her, and cinched them tight. "Because not a lot of women go in for drinking like guys do, and because if you're going to stay and work here, then I get some liberties with your dress. The hotter you are, the more guys will come in to look."
She started nosing her muzzle against my head. "Okay, bartender-boy, what am I supposed to do when some drunken guy palms my ass?"
I tickled her back. "You come tell me so I can go curb-stomp that fool."
Sasha giggled, and then wormed her muzzle through my shirt and rested her nose in my chest fur. I let her, for a while, before I had an idea. "Hey, honey, get up a second. I had a thought."
She got off my lap, and I grabbed a piece of paper and a marker. I scribbled a few words on it, and showed it to Sasha. She laughed hard, and said "Look, but don't touch? And I suppose you're going to put that on my back?"
I snapped off a piece of tape and smirked. "Turn around."
About thirty minutes later, I was drumming my hands on the bar in time to the music, which I had just switched on. I counted down the ticks on the clock on the wall, and when the hour hand hit six, I walked out from behind the counter and unlocked the door. Barely had I done so when the door flew open. It was bitterly cold outside, and with the gusting wind came a figure bundled in a heavy coat. From inside the cavernous garment, I heard the voice of my lawyer friend Fred Daniels. "Christ on a cracker, it's cold enough out there to freeze beer. Speaking of beer..."
I said nothing, and let him look at the empty bar for a second. "Jack? Jack? Where are you?"
I tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned around. He stared at me for a few seconds deadpan, and took a step or two back. He took his hat off, and kneaded his eyes. He opened them again, and continued to stare. He turned back towards the bar, and sat down, taking off his coat. I walked behind the counter, and started filling a glass with his favorite Irish draught. As I passed him the glass, he finally must have found his voice. "Gee, Jack; you're a little hairier than yesterday. Trying a new shampoo?"
I pinched the fur on my left arm. "Yeah, is it that obvious?"
He took a gulp. "I'd say so. Want to tell your old buddy what happened?"
I held up a perfunctory finger. "One second."
I moved out from behind the bar, and went upstairs. After a moment's exchange with Sasha, I brought her down. We walked arm in arm up to the bar. Fred nearly did a spit-take, and swallowed sharpish. He sat the glass down, and looked at Sasha. "Didn't I see you yesterday?"
Sasha nodded, and said "Yes, it was just yesterday."
Fred's eyes passed from one of us to the other for a couple of seconds, and he laughed. He shook his head, and swiveled back to the bar. A couple more customers, human this time, came in, and I swatted Sasha's rear in their general direction. She pulled out her notepad, and went to get their order. I went back behind the bar, and leaned on it. I watched Sasha as she jotted down the choices, and then looked back to Fred. "What? You don't have anything to say?"
He smirked. "I say that you're one lucky bastard." He fingered his mane. "I got this by being bitten, not by getting lucky."
I started polishing a glass, and said "Well, we can't all be as lucky as me."
Turns out I had a lot of explaining to do that night. Every regular patron of mine would come in, stop, and stare. They'd ask some kind of vague question, and I'd point towards Sasha. Most of them didn't get it at first, and I had to make some eyebrow motions, but by and large, everyone understood. Some gave me winks and thumbs-up, others just gave me weird looks. A couple of my patrons walked in, saw me, and turned on their heels and walked out. I didn't mind. If they were like that, they could go somewhere else and fornicate themselves with a metal pipe. However, soon enough, the bar culture formed, and I just slipped into the background. Not so much for Sasha; all eyes, human and Malis, were on her as she went about her business. I smiled as I saw extra-large tips start to roll in for her, and had to avoid laughing outright when some customers started buying her drinks. It's an old strategy, but it seems adding in some *ahem* womanly touches always helps. It was just as I had imagined it, and although I knew Sasha had been consenting (I would never have dared to try it if she wasn't), she seemed to attack her job with enthusiasm. She walked with a hip-swinging gait, and didn't seem to mind at all the fact that whenever she bent over even a little, everyone got a glimpse of her underwear.
As the night dragged on, and the crowd got more and more animated, I started to get into the feeling myself. I noticed that there were a lot more Malises than usual tonight, and they were all spending freely. At about 11, I flipped on the television above the bar, and surfed channels until I found the ball about to drop. I reflected momentarily why they were here, since the actual ball was within walking distance. I shrugged, and rationalized that if they were drinking in public like they were here, there'd be a riot in an hour. In fact, it was beginning to sound like there was one in here.
I looked along the bar, and noticed a cluster of Malises, all singing off-key and almost spilling their drinks. I noticed that the liquid levels were getting kind of low, so I slid along the bar, and leaned on it next to them. "Freshen your drinks, boys?"
For some reason, they all stopped dead and looked at each other, then at me. One of them set a wad of cash on the bar, and said "If you please... And why don't you pour one for yourself, and join us?"
I blinked. I refilled their glasses, and said "I appreciate the sentiment, guys, but I don't drink. I'll stick around here, though, if you want."
From the pack, I heard the whisper "The bartender doesn't drink?"
followed by muffled laughter by the group. The one who had set down the money nodded. "Sure; always nice to have another voice for the chorus." And after they had wet their whistles again, they started to sing again. I smiled, and after a moment, joined in myself.
As midnight approached, the crowd got more and more enthusiastic, until finally the minute countdown came on-screen. Everyone twisted around in their chairs to count down from sixty. I counted down with glee with my new-found friends. Fred Daniels, now more than a little crocked, roared out with delight. Even Sasha joined in, wagging to beat the band. As the countdown hit single digits, the voices became almost deafening.
"10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."
" HAPPY NEW YEAR!"
That shout echoed up and down the street for blocks. The crowd cheered wildly, and Sasha had to fend off at least two amorous males. The party wound down pretty quickly after that; my new buddies left, but first identified themselves as Todd Taylor, a mechanic, Larry Gelling, an accountant, Matthew Roderick, a doctor, and James Page, an author. They promised to come back tomorrow, though. Only a few patrons were left, and me and Sasha started to close up. As I put up a malt whiskey bottle up on the shelf, I felt through the floor several heavy footsteps. I thought it was the gang back, having forgotten a jacket or something. I turned, and my heart froze.
Standing in the doorway were Bill Paxton and his pack of henchmen. They were staring at me in wide-eyed shock, and from the looks of them, were well past inebriated. I quickly motioned for Sasha to go upstairs. Bill Paxton was the first to break the silence, lurching towards me drunkenly. "Why... Why, you little bastard..."
I grasped my Ruttgers Peacemaker beneath the counter. "You're drunk, Bill. Go home."
He continued on. "I always knew you were a chickenshit coward fur-lover, but I never figured you for a goddamned blood traitor. What's the matter? Human race not good enough for you? You gotta go bang some Malis bitch?"
I was starting to see red. I growled, menacingly. The cronies took a step back, but Bill stood his ground, and motioned them inside. The formed a semi-circle around him. I spoke. "Bill, I've had it. Get the ever-loving monkey fuck outta my bar, and don't ever come back. You got that?"
Bill got a dirty little smile on his face. "Oh... Won't serve humans, huh? That sounds like discrimination to me... And that's illegal. I'm gonna have to report you on this one, Jackie-boy. But first, boys, why don't we conduct a little vigilante justice?"
One of his boys nodded, and picked up one of my tables. With a grunt, he slammed it to the ground, breaking it into pieces. I lost it. I pelted around the side of the bar, aiming my shotgun. I screamed "Alright, punks! Get out now, or I'll fucking kill you!"
Bill just threw back his head and laughed. He looked at me and said "You don't have it in you, Jack; you don't have the steel to shoot me. Boys, why don't we break a few windows?"
He picked up a broken table leg, and smashed in my front window with it. I was almost foaming at the mouth by then, but Bill was right; I couldn't shoot someone else, not even a scumbag like Bill.
He was about to smash another when suddenly, he was hoisted by his shirt. I gaped. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," I heard a drawling voice say.
Holding Bill Paxton like a ragdoll in one hand was a Malis, a black cat. He wore, perhaps un-ironically, a cowboy hat and a leather jacket with blue jeans. He wasn't the biggest Malis I've ever seen; he was the biggest anyone I've ever seen. He must have been 6'7 if he was an inch, and looked 270 pounds, all of it muscle. Bill blanched, and started throwing wild punches in every direction. "Put me down, you filthy..."
The cat shook him like a beer can. Bill lost his voice as he was violently joggled up and down. The big Malis looked over at me and said "Barkeep, how much did that window and table cost? Round up."
I did a little mental figuring. "Eh... Around five hundred dollars."
The cat shook Bill a little more. "Alright, boys, let me tell you how it's going to go down. You're all going to empty your wallets until we've got a pile of money equal or greater to $500. If you don't, then I get angry." He gave Bill one last jerk, and set him down. The cat stepped back, and folded his arm menacingly. Tapping his paw, he said "I'm waiting..."
All of a sudden, there was a flurry of green paper as every member of Bill's gang started throwing all their cash on the floor, and sprinting from the bar. Bill rubbed his neck, and swiveled back towards the cat. "When I tell the police..."
The Malis deftly plucked Bill's wallet from his pocket. Skillfully separating his money from it, he threw it carelessly out into the street. He leaned over Bill, and slowly said "Now, get."
I thought Bill was going to have a heart attack. He huffed and puffed, and then stormed out without saying a word. The cat closed the door behind him, and walked up to the bar. I squeaked as he thrust out his hand, until I realized that he meant to shake. I put my paw in his much more massive one, and returned the bone-crushing grip. "Name's Omaha. Omaha Dempsey."
I smiled through the pain of having my paw crunched. "Ah! I'm Jack Anderson. It's a lucky thing you were here tonight; I couldn't have stopped them."
Omaha smiled a little, and pushed his hat further back up his head. "No problem; I couldn't let that prick and his friends trash your place."
I kneaded my throbbing paw. "So, if you don't mind my asking, are you... Okay, I'll just say it. Are you an army experiment? 'Cause I've never seen a person who looked more like the Hulk in my entire life."
Omaha threw back his head and laughed. "Ha! That's a good one. Naw, I used to play football back before..." He looked down at his furred arms. "Well, I don't think it matters. Mmm... This is kind of sudden, I know, but... Would you maybe have a job opening?"
I blinked. "What?"
Omaha shrugged. "Well, I can't play in the professional circuit anymore, and at the risk of sounding like a has-been, I wasn't ever trained to be much else. I'm kind of out of work at the moment, and I wondered if you needed some muscle, like a bouncer or security officer."
I glanced at the broken window, and gulped. "You're timing is eerie. If I know Bill, he's going to be back. You're hired. If you'll give me your phone number, I'll let you know when we reopen. We'll have to get this window replaced, and until then I can't open."
I vaulted over the bar, and scooped up the money pile. I started counting, and put the 500 dollars necessary to rebuild the bar window and replace the table to the side. Then I tabulated the remaining money, and handed to Omaha. He took it in surprise. I gave him a sly smile. "If the police stop by, say that Bill came in and broke a window and table. Don't mention the shakedown."
He tipped his hat again, and said "I'm mighty grateful. By the way, wasn't there a waitress around here before, a little husky girl?"
I smiled. "Just a sec."
I went upstairs, and coaxed Sasha down. She peeked around the corner shyly, and when she saw Omaha, her eyes widened. She turned and whispered back to me "God, look at him! Did he eat Bill?"
I pushed her out, and she yelped. Omaha turned to look, and a smile spread across his face. He took off his hat, held it over his heart, and bowed a little. "Ma'am, it is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance."
She cautiously walked up to him, and put her tiny paw out to shake. "P-pleased to meet you... I'm Sasha Anderson."
I twitched. I'd heard her refer to me as her mate before, but I was quite frankly surprised that she'd dropped her last name. Omaha enveloped her dainty palm with his own, and squeezed softly. "Omaha, Omaha Dempsey. When I saw those thugs come in, I knew that it was trouble, and I couldn't let a lovely lady come to harm."
Sasha giggled, and put a hand to her face. This time, I was the one to come up behind her and put my paws on her shoulders. "We're very grateful, Omaha. If you hadn't stopped them, they might have trashed the whole place. Thank you very much."
Omaha put his hat back on, and began to step backwards towards the door. "My pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. I await your call with pleasure."
He turned on his heel, and strode out into the night, his jet black pelt hiding him instantly. Sasha put her paws on top of mine. "Jealous much?"
I buried my nose in her neck fluff, and made a negative noise. She laughed, and swatted my nose. "No, down boy. First we have to clean up first."
Sasha picked up broken table pieces while I nailed up a few sheets of plywood over the window hole. After we had the bar halfway respectable, we turned off the lights and went upstairs. I reheated some pizza, which was a task made more difficult by the fact that Sasha was clinging to my back, and had pushed her nose into the hollow between my shoulder and head, and refused to let go. After the pizza was warm again, I had a few bites of pineapple pizza, and held a slice of pepperoni over my shoulder for her to munch on. After we ate, I reached down and picked her legs up. She yipped as I pulled her into a piggy-back ride. She giggled as I walked through the house, and dug her knees into my sides. "Faster!"
I pelted through the house as she laughed, managing to avoid hitting her head on (almost every) doorframe, until I ran into the bedroom and hurled myself onto the bed. I lay there panting as she ran her hands through my hair, and stroked my ears. She hugged my neck, and whispered in my ear. "Mmm, you've been a good foxy today, haven't you? Waited patiently all day to play..."
I pushed my head deeper into her arms, and said nothing. She continued to stroke my head with one hand, but reached the other hand down to scratch the base of my tail. Boy, but that felt good! I started whipping my tail around in ecstatic fits. She laughed. "That feels good, doesn't it? Well, I have a reward for you for behaving all day."
I closed my eyes as I felt her get off the bed, and heard rustling sounds from one corner of the room. I opened my eyes to see her holding that bag I had seen this morning. I watched as she unzipped it, and bolted upright when I saw her draw from it two pairs of handcuffs and a tube of lube. I said "The next thing out of your mouth is either going to really good, or really bad." She laughed, and moved around the bed. She slid the handcuffs into her bedside nightstand, and said "No, silly, these aren't for you." Flopping onto the bed, she cradled my head in her hands. "I'm your bitch, you're not mine."
I picked up the tube of discarded lube. "So... What's this for?"
There was a shuffle of clothing, and when I looked back, Sasha was completely naked. She rolled over onto her stomach, and laid her head on her hands. "I thought we could do something... Different, today, if you wanted to."
I patted her rump playfully. "Am I in the ballpark?"
She wagged. "Home run, honey."
I quickly undressed, and threw my clothes aside. Then I lay atop her, and wormed my hands under her body to hold her breasts. She moaned, and wiggled her body against mine. I whispered in her ear. "You sure about this? Have you ever done it before?"
"Maybe... Maybe not. Are you gonna start, or do I have to?"
I leaned back upright, and smiled. "Let not your heart be troubled. Hold still."
I unscrewed the cap on the bottle of lube, and tapped the nozzle of it a few times. Then I upended it, and let the clear lubricant pour down over her shapely rear. She laughed, and lifted her tail for the running liquid. It slid down her cheeks into the crevice, which split the flow into two streams; one which dripped down onto her entrance, and the other which led right into her tailhole. She moaned, and her limbs tensed up. I patted her flank. "Easy, girl, I haven't even started yet. If you don't want to do this..."
"No," she panted, "it's fine. Go on!"
I said "Okay, but this isn't going to work. Here, let me help."
I shimmied off of her, and put my hands under her hips. I lifted them until she was lying with her rear in the air. I approached on my hands and knees, and caressed her bum. "Ready?"
She just whimpered. I took that as my cue, and placed the tip of my member at her hole, and with infinite care, pushed in. She whined, and clenched around me. I stopped. "What's the matter? Does it hurt?"
She yelped. "Ah! No, 's not that... It's... Big!"
I flexed my erection. "Well, maybe, but the real problem is, you're tiny! I'm making love to a Cheerio back here."
She laughed, and moved her hips. "Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation? Keep going!"
I said nothing, and just pushed in farther. Sasha threw back her head and whimpered higher and higher as I pushed, until I hit something. Then, she screamed in ecstasy. "Oh, God, that's it! That's it!"
I stroked her side. "Ooh, did you like that?"
She growled, and ground herself against me. "Do it again!"
I obliged, pulling out to the head and hilting myself again. Another scream of joy erupted from her muzzle. Shakily, she pulled herself up on hands and knees, and reached a hand down to paw at herself. I caught her hand, and shook it. "No, no, no... Let me handle that."
As she returned to her four-legged stance, I thrust again, simultaneously bringing my paw to her entrance and starting to pleasure her there. I slipped three fingers inside of her, while I used my thumb to rub her clit. Sasha was having paroxysms, thrusting herself against me, shivering, and making highly flattering animal sounds.
Then I decided to play with her a little. I drew back out to the head, and removed my hand from her tunnel. She turned her head around and breathed "Why'd you stop?"
I patted her butt a little harder than was necessary. "Because I don't think you want it bad enough."
She whined, and thrust herself against me. "Yes I want! Please, let me have it!"
I scratched the base of her tail. "Hmm... Maybe if you tell me what it feels like."
She whimpered, and then spoke. "It feels... It feels like something wonderfully warm and big is filling me from the inside out, and I just want to hold it in, but then it starts slipping out. So I try to hold it as best I can, but it almost leaves anyway. But then, it comes back, harder and further than before! Oh, please, take me Jack! I can't stand it!"
I hilted myself. "Now that," I said, "is what I wanted to hear." I thrust with renewed vigor, as I pleasured her hard with my paw. She moaned and whimpered as I went, rolling her hips in delight. However, I soon noticed that it was becoming harder and harder to stuff her. I looked down, and was more than a little surprised to see this bulbous knob forming around the base of my shaft. I said "Uh... Sasha? I don't want to alarm you, but my penis is swelling."
She yelped, and pushed back against me. "That's -nnh!-your knot! It happens with canines, that thing forms to trap sperm in the womb!"
I tried to contain myself. "I don't think it's going to fit!"
She screamed. "Keep trying!"
I thrust a few more times, and finally, when me and Sasha synchronized in one push, it slipped in without a sound. If I had thought Sasha could scream before, I was proven wrong by the unearthly howl of climax she let loose. My fingers felt a rush of fluid as she clenched all around me. I grunted, and released. The knot worked to perfection; nothing slipped around its seal as I pulsed repeatedly into her ass. Finally, it was over, and Sasha slumped over, just barely remaining upright. She started swaying, and I picked her up. I slowly slid us out of the bed. Yes, us; I was still locked into her by my knot. I kissed all over her as I guided her to the shower, and as the hot water rinsed away the fluids and other things that coated us, I held her limp body upright and stroked her.
She leaned heavily into me, and twisted her muzzle up to kiss me. I returned the favor, and we locked lips for more than a minute. She broke the kiss first, and leaned her head up farther. "I love you, Jack," she said, whispering tenderly to me.
I hugged her all the tighter as I felt my erection pulse once more, still buried in her. "I love you too, Sasha."
As I held my beautiful husky in my arms, I felt that every price I would ever pay; service denied, strange looks, out and out violence for being a Malis... It would all be worth if for this. I sighed, and held my mate.