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Towards Antipathy

"Radical Stranger"

by Mog Moogle

Focus. Intent focus as the lines of power poles started to blur to streaks. The black asphalt and hashed lines on the pavement stretched in front of him as the needle on the tachometer climbed skyward. Ported headers pushed spent gasses and raw flames through the pipes that kicked out the back of the car. On the up-shift, loud pops of backfires echoed in the sheet metal interior.

Hazel eyes watched the needle push past the hashes in white to a red tab on the gauge and a tube mounted to the dash with a recessed light that was flashing yellow turned solid green. A moment too late, and the green would be flashing red.

Third gear. The engine roared and scenery outside passed the windows faster than most people would ever see it from a ground level view. Fourth gear. The old factories and warehouses in the distance increased their speed as they sat rusting from years of unuse. Fifth gear. The constantly climbing needle pushed past the deuce and double-aught as the digital display on the same gauge clicked over from one ninety-nine to two hundred.

In the right corner, another needle also started to steadily climb. The inverted pointer moved from the green concave band along the bottom of the gauge and crossed into the red. The driver pulled the stick into neutral and hit the kill-switch on the dash. He slammed a fist against steering wheel with a curse as the engine went quiet and the car coasted.

The driver brushed his long bangs off his forehead before rubbing the annoyed furl on his brow. He'd been working for two weeks on the overheating. Cooling fan on an override toggle, restrictor plate above the water pump instead of a thermostat, running unmixed coolant. Nothing had worked.

He shook his head as looked back out the windshield over the yellow fiberglass hood. He was about to step on the brake when something hit the drivers side of his car and glass showered in the bare rear from triangular shaped window between the B and C pillars.

The impact forced him to grab his steering wheel and fight to keep his car on the road while his ears rang. The sound wave following the compression wave hit him with a rumble that caused his chest to reverberate in a familiar way. For a few moments, he was transported back to the sight of the right corner of his HMWV lifting off the ground as scraps of metal and plastic flew skyward.

He looked toward the source of the sound and saw a big fireball where one of the old factory warehouses used to be. Torn fragments of the corrugated roof and pieces of glass streaked and tumbled through the air, displaced by the explosion. Then there was a bright flash.

A bolt of energy jumped from the flames and arced like lightning. It snapped across the hood of his car and the loud pop, coupled with a bright light blinded him. He slammed the brakes and the car slid while he tried to get the hues of black and red to leave his vision.

The car didn't feel like it was on asphalt anymore. The rubber of the slicks didn't squeal and the ground felt moist and loose, like he was on a dirt track. There was a crash and the five-point harness caught him. It knocked the wind out of him as the ruptured radiator hissed and his eyes fluttered closed.

When they opened again, he could see white steam pouring up from the splinters in the fiberglass hood. The windshield had a long crack from the left corner stretching up over it's length. He groaned and coughed as he rubbed his eyes. The blinding effect of the bright bolt of energy had thankfully worn away while he was unconscious.

He hit the release on his harness and tugged the safety net from its snaps at the top of his window. Climbing out slowly to mitigate the pain in his chest and arms from the crash, he pulled his legs out of the car and sat them on the ground.

He looked up at his hood and grumbled as he saw the last years worth of work converting the mid 80's sports car into a circle track racer crumpled against-

• a tree. A big tree.

"What the hell?" he said aloud as he looked at the base of the trunk, wider than his car by several feet on both sides. "There's no trees in this part of town."

He looked down and saw the crumpled leaves, soft forest floor and dirt below him. Behind the car for about fifty feet were ruts in the mud where the locked tired had slid. He took a step back from the bright yellow car with the orange trim and looked up. Trees all around him stretched skyward. They were taller than the buildings downtown and their massive canopies blocked the sky.

As he looked back down he looked at his surroundings, he realized he was in a forest. A forest that looked ancient. It was like something out of a fantastic story. He quickly put his hands on his head and checked for signs of an injury. He found no knots, cuts or bruises. He sighed as he let his fingers fall from his hair.

Reaching into his left pocket, he pulled out his phone. It indicated that it had no service, but there was something else that was odd. No searching for a roaming analog signal, no indicators that it was functioning in any way other than the message that read, 'No SIM Detected' on the lock screen. He wondered if his phone was damaged in the crash.

He swiped the screen and scrolled over to his compass app. It took a moment to load and then gave an error window indicating that it had no signal. He checked to make sure his GPS location was on and tried again. Same result: No signal.

He dropped it back in his pocket and shook his head. Though he had no real bearings in the strange place, he knew that he didn't want to be stuck in the woods overnight with nothing but a t-shirt and baggy cargo pants to keep him warm.

Reaching into his car, he pulled the key out of the ignition and picked up a good luck charm that went with him almost everywhere he did. A curved piece of wood shaped like a sword he'd had since he was young. It'd seen sparring matches over the years, been dragged to both Afghanistan and Iraq during the Global War on Terror and had been his co-pilot every time he sped off the line in a race.

He put the keys in his pocket and slid the sword through a belt loop on his left side. Taking a final moment to look his car over, he shook his head and walked away in the direction he thought was East. As he walked he tried to make sense of things.

The trees around him were magnificent. Bigger than even the redwoods he'd seen as a child in California. They towered like monoliths that would convey millennia of knowledge if he could but understand them. He'd never heard or read of anything like it anywhere. Even the calls of the birds sounded different. He didn't recognize one robin, starling, dove or pidgin like was common in his Midwestern city.

The more he thought about it, the more outlandish his theories became. Alien abduction, multidimensional rifts, micro-wormholes, but no matter how ridiculous or simple the explanation of it was, the fact remained he was still lost in the woods.

His wristwatch chimed for the fifth time since he started his trek. He looked at the digital face as it read 17:00.05. Looking behind him in the direction he assumed was west he saw the streams of light from a descending sun through the canopies. At least his local time seemed to still be synced with the time of wherever he was.

The terrain wasn't harsh, and the forest floor was fairly forgiving when it came to briar patches and dense brush. The tall trees seemed to keep most of the smaller growth minimal. A blessing for the travel, but as his stomach growled he worried that it would make finding anything edible a challenge.

He was considering whether he should try to fashion some form of crude shelter for the night and attempt to start a fire when he heard what sounded like voices. "Oh, thank God," he said to himself as he picked up to a light jog toward an embankment that dropped off.

Easing up to the shallow decline, he saw three men standing on a road about twenty feet below him. Two were in dark hooded cloaks, each holding a drawn sword. The third man, whom they were facing, stood about ten feet from them in a silken shirt with elaborate embroidery. He looked at them curiously as the scene unfolded.

"You've been causing us a lot of trouble, old man," one of the cloaked figures said. "To think, catching you out here like this. It must be our lucky day."

"You will be dead before your wretched body falls, hoodlum," the old man in the silk shirt said back to him as he palmed the hilt of a sheathed sword.

As he looked at them he couldn't believe what he saw. It was as if he had stumbled into some sort of scene from a renascence fair. He saw the cloaked figures step forward and the silken shirt man take a step back. He looked down at his feet and saw a smooth stone. He picked it up, cocked it back and yelled, "Hey!"

All three looked up just before the closest man in the black cloak took the impact of the stone on his head. He toppled to the ground and the other cloaked man ran up the embankment toward him. "You'll pay for your interloping, boy," he hissed as he struggled against the loose leaves on his climb.

"Boy?" the young man said as he stepped back from the ledge and drew his wooden sword. He pointed its tip at the cloaked man's face just as he peered over the top at him. His surprise turned into a mean grin as he looked up past it.

"What are you going to do with that stick?" he said in a cocky voice. Before he could say anything else, blunted sharp side of the wooden sword impacted his temple and he toppled down the embankment.

He shook his head as he sheathed his sword in his belt loop then stepped off the ledge. He performed a controlled slide down to the dirt road and stood in front of the gentleman. "You alright?" he asked as he looked him over.

"Quite all right now. Thanks to you, young sir."

"Please don't call me sir," he said before looking back at the two unconscious cloaked men.

"I did not mean to offend my savior."

"It's okay. It's not like I wear my name on me anymore," he said as he looked back at the older gentleman.

"Then, may I ask your name?"

"Nathan," he replied.

"Nay-thon. Hmm, an odd name," the older man paused as Nathan looked at him curiously. "But then, with your dress, you seem a bit out of place."

"If 'Nathan' is odd, may I ask yours?"

"Lord Balthas, of the Balthas estate," he said and then smiled. "But, I insist that my savior address me by my first name. You may call me Reginald."

"Reginald?" Nathan said then cocked his eyebrows. "So why is Nathaniel an odd name?"

"Nathaniel? You said your name was Nay-thon."

"Nathan is a short name," Nathan said and then shook his head at Balthas' confused expression. "You know, like Reggie is short for Reginald?"

"Hardly," the nobleman said in a scoff.

"All right. Didn't mean nothing by it. But, please don't call me Nathaniel."

"Hmm," Balthas paused as he looked Nathan up and down. "May I ask where your from?"

"Oh, a little town in the Midwest," Nathan replied.

"I see ... middle-west of what?"

"The Midwest of a country I'm increasingly certain you've never heard of," Nathan said before sighing aloud. "Where am I?"

"This is the kingdom of Mellath. You must have been traveling in our borders for awhile. You are three days from the Port of Autumn."

"Maybe. I'm not really even sure how I got here. I wrecked my car in your woods here and I got no reception on my phone."

"I am sorry," Balthas said, "I am afraid I do not understand what you are saying."

"Yeah, I figured," Nathan said and shook his head.

"So, what is your social status where you come from?" Balthas asked. "Do you hold any titles, own any land?"

"Sure," Nathan said. "I own my house and a little garage in a run-down industrial park where I work on my cars. I guess if you had to give me a title, you could call me a driver or a mechanic."

"What is a mechanic?"

"Someone who works on cars." Nathan paused and chuckled at the older gentleman's confused expression. "You know what? It don't matter. You not knowing shit about cars or phones just affirms what I was afraid of to begin with." Nathan said as he turned away from Balthas and looked up the road. "If you'll excuse me, I need to ... whatever."

"Sir Nathan?" Balthas said, causing Nathan to look back at him. "Where might you be going?"

"I need to find someplace to sleep before I lose the light."

"In that case, accompany me to my estate. It is not even half of a league from here."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"Nonsense. We have several guest rooms. It will be no imposition," Balthas walked toward Nathan and smiled. "I beg you, Sir Nathan."

"Well, it's not like I have a better option anyway. Maybe the cell reception will be better at your place, huh?" Nathan chuckled but it faded to a solemn expression.

"Yes, well, I'm not sure about that. But the servants should be nearly finished preparing the evening meal."

"Food would be good," Nathan said as Lord Balthas came abreast with him and they walked up the dirt roadway. Nathan gave the two unconscious men in cloaks a final glance before looking back at the older nobleman. "So who were they? Robbers?"

"Scum," he replied. "Misguided young men that have been operating in my forest for far too long. Last week, they stole two of my servants as they tended the grounds outside my gate."

"Stole your servants?"

"They call themselves Abolitionists. A small group of dissidents that got their start in the underground of some of Mellath's larger cities. Personally, I believe that they just free servants to try and lash out against Lordly authority."

"Free servants? You mean slaves?"

"Nathan, are you telling me that you do not know what a servant is?"

"I suppose I don't," Nathan replied as he cocked his eyebrow at the old man.

"We do not keep slaves. We are not barbarians from Knell. We purchase servants to do our menial tasks or hard labor. A few years ago, a group of idealistic young men in the capitol got it in their minds that exploiting a long standing tradition and custom was somehow wrong. Servants are not even human. How could they have any rights or privileges? It is our duty to control them so they do not destroy themselves." Balthas paused as they came to a created clearing with an iron fence and hand shaped stone pillars.

"What do you mean, not even human?" Nathan asked as they stopped at a large gate, but before he got his response, he saw a large grizzly bear step out of a small building on the inside of the gate. He walked upright, stood seven-and-a-half feet tall and had a finely tailored black suit on. Nathan looked at the creature in awe as it opened the gate.

"Welcome home, Master," the bear said in clear language that could have easily been from a human, save for the deeper voice. "I see you have a guest with you. Shall I set another place at the table."

"Yes, Brutus," Lord Balthas replied. "This young man is Nathan. He gave me some assistance when two ruffians tried to ambush me. Afford him every courtesy. Prepare our finest guest suite."

"Welcome to the Balthas estate, Master Nathan," Brutus said and then gave him a polite bow.

"Uh ... hey," Nathan replied as he looked up at the massive creature.

"I'm sorry, Master Nathan. Have I said something to offend you?"

"You're a talking bear," Nathan said then looked over at Balthas. "He's a talking bear."

"Nathan, are you all right?" Balthas asked.

"Dude, this bear is talking to me. I ... I don't know. This can't be real."

"You have really never seen a servant of any kind?"

"I ... are all of your servants bears that talk?"

"No," Balthas said and chuckled. "I purchased Brutus' mother before she reared him. Of course, had the broker known the she-servant was with cub, she would have cost me substantially more. Most of our servants are of the conventional assortment. Brutus is my personal valet, since I've trained him from birth."

"Oh, right. The 'conventional assortment' of talking animals," Nathan said sarcastically. "Where the hell am I?"

"Sir Nathan, please calm yourself."

Nathan grit his teeth and shook his head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the dark screen lighting up as he looked at the warning boxes indicating he still had no service. He grumbled and put it back in his pocket. Nathan looked back at up at the nobleman and the bear and saw they both had expressions of bewilderment.

"What in the name of the gods was that glowing talisman?" Balthas asked.

"It's ... not important," Nathan said and shook his head.

"I will not treat with sorcerers or warlocks, I warn you."

"Jesus, it's a phone. Where I'm from we use it to talk to people who are far away."

"What manner of magic is that?" Balthas asked, reaching down to his left side.

Nathan stepped back and held his hands up. "Look, it's not magic. It's technology. Where I'm from, we've found ways to transmit what we say over long distances by converting the sound waves from our voice into energy waves so they move at the speed of light and we can direct their transmission. It's stuff any high school kid knows. It's stuff we grew up with. It's not magic."

"I ask that you keep your talisman covered and its spells inert while in my walls."

"Yeah, no problem," Nathan said as he emphasized his raised and open hands, "I don't want no trouble, and I'd appreciate it if you took your hand off your sword."

Lord Balthas scoffed then turned toward the front of the large manor house. "I will trust you, since you did come to my aid, but mind your strange ways. Especially while in the presence of my wife."

"Yeah, you got it," Nathan said and then looked on as the old man walked away. "Fucking hell, I've stumbled into some kind of backwater world filled with talking animals and people afraid of electronics."

He looked up at the bear, who gave him a polite smile then gestured for him to take the lead. Nathan sighed as he walked past the beast and caught up to Lord Balthas. When they got to the front door, the bear quickly stepped around them and held it open for the two. Nathan looked at the elaborate wood work in the glow of the setting sun before crossing the threshold.

The grand entryway was decorated with pillars that looked like carved marble. The banisters on the two stair sets to the upper level were plated in gold, and a large crystal chandelier hung above them. Paintings of vistas and well dressed nobles hung on the walls, and the parlor furniture was handcrafted and upholstered with silky embroidered cloth. The carpets that Nathan's muddy boots tracked over were vivid colors and plush. Other than Nathan's muddy boot prints, the place was immaculate.

"Wow," Nathan said aloud as he looked around. "It's like a palace."

"Oh, we are much more modest than the royal family, I assure you," Lord Balthas said. "Come, I will have one of the servants show you to a powder room so you can clean yourself up. It looks as though you have been traveling for days."

"Kind of feels like it, too."

Lord Balthas led Nathan to the back of the entrance hall and down a hallway. He noticed a raccoon polishing an ornate candelabra on a small table below one of the paintings. She was wearing a white hat, white apron and a black dress. She was barely four feet tall and looked up at the two as the approached then shied her eyes away from her Master's.

"Good evening, Master," she said softly.

"Rose, is dinner prepared?" Balthas asked.

"Nearly, Master. Won't be but a few more moments."

"I trust it will not be long," he said, Nathan noting his harsh stare at the little raccoon.

"Aye. I noticed we'll be having company. Will his servants need showing to the servant quarters?"

"Our guest has no servants, apparently. Show him where he can freshen himself before the meal," Balthas said then looked at Nathan. "Please, make yourself at home in my house. Would you like a fresh dinner garment?"

"Nah, I'm good," Nathan said. "Fancy clothes make me itch."

"Very well." Balthas said with a hint of annoyance in his tone as he looked back down at the raccoon. "You will be summoned when the meal is served. Until then, Rose will look after you."

Nathan watched Lord Balthas continue on down the hall. He shook his head and looked at the raccoon, who still refused direct eye contact. "Rosie?" he said softly.

"Yes, young Master?"

"Don't call me Master."

"I ... uh, yes Mas-" she cut herself off and looked up at Nathan, genuine fear in her eyes.

"Call me Nathan. That's my name."

"It wouldn't be appropriate to address you informally, young Master."

"And I find it offensive when you do address me formally," Nathan said, moving his hand up to her shoulder. The raccoon flinched and recoiled as his hand approached her. He took a step back from her and sighed. "Does Balthas beat you?" She kept her eyes down and frozen in place. "Does your 'master' beat you?"

"Sometimes a servant makes a mistake," she said softly. "When that happens, we have to be disciplined."

"That's not what I asked," Nathan said before stepping up to her again and putting his finger under her chin. She flinched, but didn't try to pull away as he eased her chin up and she looked into his eyes. "Does he beat you?"

She mouthed the word, "yes," before lifting her chin off Nathan's finger and looking back at the ground.

"Well, I will not," Nathan said sternly. "Does he beat all of his servants?"

"Please," she said as she sniffled back a sob, "please don't ask me that. If Master overhears-"

"If he lays a hand on you or anyone else while I'm here, he'll never touch anyone again."

"No!" she said with a tremble, "Master takes care of us. From what we've heard from his other guests' servants, we have it far better than most."

"That's atrocious," Nathan said, nearly in rage. "What a bastard. How can anyone beat another intelligent person?"

The little raccoon looked up at him curiously. She wiped a tear away from her eye as she studied his expression. "We're not people," she said. "We're furs, and we're servants."

Nathan managed to wrestle his rage down and smile at her. He pat her softly on the shoulder then stepped back again. "Now, since you've been assigned to me, or whatever it is, mind showing me to that powder room thing?"

Her response to the curious young man was a soft nod and she put the cloth and candelabra back on the table. Nathan followed her down the hall past various doors. The estate was large and Nathan wondered to himself what it was that Lord Balthas had done to earn his title and his fortune. He watched Rose open one of the doors near the end of the hall for him.

Nathan stepped inside, thanking her before looking around the comparatively small room. There was a small table on the wall with a washbasin and a pitcher inside of it. Above it was what looked like a mirror, but it was much more dingy than the glass mirrors he was used to. After a brief examination of it, he realized that it was actually a very thin piece of metal in an ornate frame that had been polished so fine it had a mirror reflection. In the back corner was a box with a closed lid. He ventured a guess that it was the toilet, but decided not to investigate.

He walked over to the table and picked the pitcher up. Pouring some of the clear liquid into the bowl, he looked it over as something odd hit his nostrils. There were little flakes of what appeared to be flower petals floating in the water. He moved the pitcher to his nose and wafted some of the scent up.

It didn't smell like any flower he'd ever inhaled, but he wasn't going to worry about it much since it didn't smell pungent like a poisonous plant might. He sat the pitcher down and cupped a little of the water in his hand. Nathan took a sip of it and swished it in his mouth before spitting it back in the basin, then took another cupped handful of it and slurped it down.

The water felt refreshing on his tongue as he realized it had been the first time he had drank anything since before he wrecked his car. He slurped the water up again and again before he heard a tentative, "Master?" from the open door. Nathan looked over at Rose who was peering in at him.

"Would you like me to fetch you a proper drink, so you don't have to drink the wash water, Master?"

"No, Rosie," Nathan said as he shook the droplets off his hand. "Thank you though."

The raccoon gave him a small nod then eased back into the hallway. Nathan shook his head and looked up at the mirror. With his wet hand, he slicked the bangs of his shoulder length dark blond hair behind his ears. Finding a small folded cloth on the table, he dried his hand and tossed it back near the basin before stepping back out of the powder room.

"Ah, Sir Nathan," he heard from a little way down the hall. He looked over and saw the Lord of the manor walking with a much younger looking woman in a long and elaborate evening gown. "I would like you to meet my wife, the Lady Balthas," he said as they stopped in front of Nathan and Rose.

"A pleasure to meet such a brave young traveler," she said. "But, you look a little odd. Tell me, where did you have this tunic tailored?"

"Charmed to meet you, ma'am," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "It's not a tunic, it's a t-shirt. But, fuck it, call it whatever you want." Nathan looked away from them and back at the raccoon.

"I trust Rose has not given you trouble?" she said with irritation. "She has been rather incompetent of late."

"No, quite the contraire, ma'am," Nathan said. "She's been helpful and insightful."

"I have heard that rodents always tend to get troublesome as they age."

"Rodents?" Nathan asked and then looked at her with a scowl.

"Yes, the smaller, less intelligent servants like the raccoons, mice, skunks and rabbits. But, then, they are cheap." Lady Balthas paused and looked at Rose. "And easy to replace."

Nathan grit his teeth and growled inaudibly. He'd spent his entire adult life fighting to liberate others, and being around people that oppressed this race with casual callousness inflamed his sense of morals.

"Rose," Lord Balthas said. "Fetch some wine from the cellar. Nathan, join us in the parlor for a drink before the meal?"

"I had a bad run with alcohol after I got back from Iraq," Nathan said as he looked over at his host. "I'm afraid I don't drink anymore."

"Of course, I will not force you to drink," Lord Balthas said, "But the company is always better with a little wine."

"I suppose I can make and exception, Lord Balthas," Nathan said and then looked away, shaking his head. "Given the circumstances."

"Excellent. Oh, and Nathan? Call me Reginald. I insist."

Nathan sighed as the two walked past him. He looked down at Rose and shook his head before the raccoon turned and hurried away. As they walked, the opulence of the estate grated on him. It reminded him of being in one of Hussein's palaces, but without it gutted by the liberating coalition and oppressed populace taking back their country's wealth.

They passed another servant. A female fox in the same uniform as Rose. As they walked by, she stepped to the side and bowed to them. The fear about her in the presence of her masters was tangible to him. He cursed under his breath.

They turned and stepped inside a large double door. The room was lavishly decorated with paintings, elaborate furniture and hunting trophies. One the far wall was a big ornate fireplace with several large armchairs near it. Lord and Lady Balthas took their seats on one side and Nathan pulled the wooden sword from his belt loop and put it in his lap as he sat down across from them.

His eyes scanned the room. The mounted heads on the wall of various creatures large and small adorned them. There was something odd though. A few of the smaller game animal heads seemed as large as the few bears, deer and wild cats.

"How do you like my trophy collection?" Lord Balthas asked as he noticed Nathan observing them.

"They're unique," he said before looking back at his host. "I used to hunt myself, back home. Never did it for sport though. We always hunted for the good of the animals."

"How would it be for their own good?" Lady Balthas asked.

"Population control. We cut numbers of the wild animals so they don't overuse feeding areas and die of starvation and disease." Nathan paused as he swallowed hard, the obviousness of what he was looking at dawning on him. "And we don't hunt sentient beings."

"Sentient beings?" Lord Balthas asked.

Nathan covered his face with his hands as he felt his stomach knot. Not only were these people slavers, they hunted creatures every bit as intelligent as they were for sport. His repulsion was turning to nausea.

"Are you all right, Nathan?" Lord Balthas asked.

Nathan dropped his hands from his face and looked at them and nodded while feigning a smile. It was then he noticed the raccoon walking into the parlor with a glass bottle on a silver tray and three crystal wine glasses. "Rosie," he called to her.

"Y-yes, young Master?" she said and approached him.

"Are you aware of your own existence?"

"Excuse me, Master?" she said confused.

"Are you aware that you're alive?"

"Well, uh, yes Master," she replied.

"And you, Lady Balthas," Nathan said as he looked back at his hosts who were both staring at him with confusion. "Are you aware of your own existence?"

"I hardly see the point-"

"A simple yes or no will do, ma'am."

"Yes, young Nathan. I am aware of my own existence," she replied with obvious annoyance that the crass young man had dared interrupt her.

Nathan nodded as he looked at her, then looked up at Rose, then back at Lord Balthas and chuckled. "There you have it," he said. "Two perfect examples of sentience. From the lowest of the low, our servant friend Rosie here. All the way up to the highest of the high, your lovely wife. Sentience is simply the awareness and intelligence to realize you're alive. And, _anyone_born with that has the right to live as they see fit."

Lord Balthas nodded softly then looked up at Rose. "Pour us three glasses, then leave us," he commanded.

"Of course, Master," she said as she took the bottle and poured a taste into two glasses then set them on the round end table between Lord and Lady Balthas. She walked over to Nathan and poured the same small taste, but stopped when Nathan held up his hand.

"Fill it, please."

"Wine is best when savored," Lady Balthas said.

"And alcohol is more effective in larger quantities," Nathan commented and took the glass from Rose's paw before she could set it on the table and thanked her politely.

Rose bowed to him, then turned and bowed to the her masters and hurried out of the room. Nathan gave the liquid and experimental sniff. He could tell from the odor of the beverage that it was as potent as a bottom shelf whiskey, but smelled much better than most Tennessee bourbons. He raised it to his hosts in a mock toast and then tilted it back, gulping until the globe was empty save for some burgundy liquid retreating back down the inside to the recess in the globe.

Nathan exhaled sharply then shook his head. "Potent stuff for wine," he commented then looked at the small amount in the bottom as it pooled with a nostalgic gaze.

"Nathan," Lord Balthas began, "there is something I wanted to discuss with you. Your attitude toward the servants is not one that you are going to find common among anyone in this kingdom who is remotely reputable. As a matter of fact, you will not find it a common attitude in the neighboring kingdoms, or the kingdoms beyond that. Frankly, I do not see where this animosity comes from.

"You attacked the Abolitionist rouges on the road, so that leads me to believe you are not one of them, but the way you dress, the way you speak, that mysterious talisman you carry. I fear you will not have many friends here in Mellath if you do not conform to our customs."

"I'm sorry," Nathan said, still looking at the red liquid in his glass. "This is just how I was raised. These are the ideals and beliefs I was brought up with," Nathan said before putting the glass down on the table beside him. "I've never owned a servant, and I've never been anywhere owning a servant was acceptable."

"Which raises a multitude of questions. Where are you from?"

"The United States."

"United States of what?"

"Of America?" Nathan said as he shook his head. "It's nowhere you've heard of. It's nowhere you've been. And I'm fairly certain now that I can never go back. I'm trapped here."

"Which means this will be all the more important of a gift I am offering. Brutus!" Lord Balthas called toward the door.

Nathan looked over to the door and saw the bear walking in with another something else following him. A short figure, clad completely in an uncomfortable looking burlap robe with the hood up to conceal its face. "What is this?"

"My wife and I have discussed this, and we believe the best way to thank you for your assistance today will be to gift you a servant."

"What!? No!" Nathan said as he looked back at the two. "I will _not_own another living being as property."

"Nathan, listen. This way you can travel without being accused of being an Abolitionist. This way you can learn about our culture."

"Why is the servant dressed like that?"

"This is Arla. She is a skunk. The heavy drapings keep her undesirable odor to a minimum."

"Oh, that's real nice. I'm sure that works wonders on its self esteem. Tell me, what if I am an Abolitionist, huh? What if the reason I don't own any slaves is I spend my days setting them free?"

"Nathan, you're no Abolitionist," Balthas said. "If you were, you would have tried to kill me. I am a hunter. I have been a hunter in service to the king since I was just a boy. I hunt his enemies, not just the trophies you see in this room."

"Some kind of assassin, then? Gee, I saved a real peach, didn't I?" Nathan shook his head and sighed. "Thank you for your offer, but I have to decline. I can't own someone else."

"Nathan, we insist. Brutus," he said as he looked up at the bear, "please take Arla to the guest suite so that Nathan can get to know his servant, then see that she's returned to the servant's quarters when he's finished."

"Of course, Master." Brutus bowed to Nathan, then to his master and ushered the skunk in burlap out of the room

Nathan watched as they left, barely catching a glimpse of the skunk's eye as she looked back at him curiously. He wondered why she had looked at him that way but shook it off as a probable reaction to his unusual outburst.

"Nathan?" he heard Lord Balthas say to grab his attention. "You seem unsettled."

"Oh, to say the least, sir." Nathan rubbed his eyes with both hands and shook his head. "I'm never going home again, I'm in a place where people hold another race in slavery, and to top it all off, I wrecked my fucking car."

"Nathan, you are ranting like a madman."

"It's just ... a lot to swallow," Nathan said and sulked in the chair. He glanced over at the glass, picked it up and upturned it. The last little bit in the bottom ran down the globe and he caught it on his tongue. "So," he said as he sat the glass down again, "I'm curious. Why that servant?"

"Because," Lady Balthas said, "skunks are undesirable as servants and are cheap."

"Darling, please. Arla is very loyal and obedient, and we feel she would make a good first servant for someone who has never had one." Balthas paused as Nathan glared at him. "And, also for the reasons my wife mentioned. Tomorrow, you can take some provisions for yourself and Arla. The port of Autumn is three days walk to the east. From there, you can go where you like. Try to find passage back home even."

Nathan scoffed and looked away. He ran the possibilities through his head. Book passage to where and to do what? He highly doubted that there would be much need for a car mechanic anywhere in this world.

"Master?" he heard from the doorway and looked over at Rose standing there. "Dinner is served."

The Lord and Lady rose from their chairs and Balthas beckoned Nathan to follow. He stood up, keeping his wooden sword in his left hand and felt the slight fuzz over his perception as his two years of abstinence from alcohol was washed away by the high proof fermented beverage. He sighed and followed his hosts out of the room into the hall.

Just a short ways down they turned into another set of double doors. Nathan saw a long table with settings at each end and one in the middle. The two went to their respective heads of the table as Nathan walked up to the chair in the middle. A male raccoon servant in a uniform like Brutus' pulled the chair out for him and he sat down. He looked at the large number of utensils laid out and sighed.

Nathan eased back in the chair and tried to relax, but before he could settle in, several of the servants in white uniforms came out pushing trays. One of them stopped by him on his way up the table and lifted a silver lid bowls of lightly colored broth in them. He picked one up and sat it down on the plate in front of Nathan.

"Enjoy your meal, Master," he said before moving on to serve the Lord and the Lady.

Nathan picked up the spoon on the end that looked like a soup spoon and took a little of the hot liquid into his mouth. The flavor was superb. He didn't know if it was because it actually was truly delectable or if the added spice of his hunger made it so, but he was finished with it quickly.

As soon it was empty, it was picked up and a smaller plate with some very thinly sliced fish was put down in front of him. Nathan took the small fork and tore some of it with the side of the tines and took a small bite. It was very fresh and reminded him of salmon. He couldn't help but smile as he quickly finished off the appetizer.

Next was a salad. The greens looked a little odd. Very spiky and bitter tasting, but it was more than passable. When he put the fork down in the empty salad bowl, it was taken away and he looked up at the doors from where all the white uniformed servants were pouring in and out as they tended to their masters. He expected the next course to be rushed out like the others, but there was a delay while the two on the ends of the table finished their starters. After their plates had been cleared, two servants wheeled a large cart from the kitchen.

The platter was massive. They wheeled it to the opposite side of the table where Nathan was sitting and it took both of them to lift the lid. As they pulled it off, they revealed a skinned and slow spit roasted deer laying atop the platter.

Nathan blanched as he looked at its musculature. It was nothing like the feral deer he'd killed and skinned. This one looked like he would have walked upright, just as the other servants in the house. His face was sheets of white and he felt sick. He nearly vomited his stomach full of soup, wine and greens right there, but managed to swallow the bit of regurgitation that had crept up his throat back down. That made him feel even worse.

He pushed away from the table and stood up from the chair so quick that the heavy handmade high-back toppled over. He saw Lord Balthas look up at him confused. "Excuse me," Nathan said as he took his wooden sword and ran it through his belt loop. "I'm not feeling well. I need to leave."

"Are you all right, Nathan?" Lord Balthas asked as Nathan was walking toward the doors.

Nathan paused and turned around to face the Lord of the manor. Everything inside of him told him that this man was evil. That he was a fiend that he'd happily put down. He longed for his M4 and wished he could rid the world of the despicable man. "Yes," Nathan said before looking back at the servants starting to carve into the roasted corpse of the fur. "I just need rest."

"Very well," Lord Balthas said and motioned for Brutus. The bear walked over to him. "Brutus, show Nathan to his suite."

"Of course, Master," the bear said, then bowed.

Nathan didn't wait for the bear. He left the room and ducked around the corner. He put his back against the wall and closed his eyes with a groan. Easing up off the wall as Brutus left the dining room, they turned toward the front. Brutus passed him and took the lead and Nathan idly followed the grizzly as he tried not to remember the look of terror frozen in the deer's empty eye sockets as it laid on the platter surrounded by garnishes.

"Brutus," Nathan said. "Do you like your servitude?"

"Master has always treated me well," the bear replied. "I am fed, cared for and I genuinely enjoy Master's company."

"Well, I guess you wouldn't be the best one to ask," Nathan said. "I doubt you're disciplined as heavy as the others, if at all."

"Why do you say that, young Master?"

"Please don't call me master," Nathan said and sighed. "You're big, you're strong and you seem very intelligent. They're afraid of you, and they'd be afraid of reprisal if they did. When was the last time you were disciplined?"

"Last week," Brutus answered. "Lady Balthas reprimanded me for knocking over a vase with freshly cut flowers."

"And what would have happened if our friend Rosie had done the same?"

"I assume she would have been reprimanded as well."

"Bullshit," Nathan said. "You know as well as I do that she would have been beaten."

The large bear stopped in front of him and turned around. Nathan looked up as the grizzly towered over him. He saw intelligent eyes scanning over him as if the bear was trying to see what was inside of him. Nathan was confident he'd stand up to the soul-screening of the bear.

Brutus sagged his shoulders and sighed. "I know the servants here are not treated as well they should be, but I can tell you that they are treated far better than most that I have seen in the travels with my Master."

"If this is the good life, I'd hate to see how the others are treated," Nathan sad before balling his fist and cracking his knuckles.

"There are farms, brothels and sweatshops. Most servants work from the time they wake until the time they sleep. They work the smithies and forges. They haul the wood they burn, mine the ore they smelt. They are used for entertainment and diversion. As you saw with the evening meal, they are used as food.

"I sense, at heart, you are a good person. And what you have seen here concerns and disturbs you. But spreading dissent among the servants here will do none of them any good. I have seen entire stocks liquidated when there is any hint at rebellion."

"They'd kill you," Nathan said and scowled. "Sick bastards. Brutus, I don't care what it takes. I don't care if it kills me. I am going to put a stop to this."

"Your homeland must truly be an amazing sight if there are others like you in it, stranger." Brutus let a soft smile show and nodded his head. "This way, Master. The guest suite is just upstairs."

Nathan continued following the bear back to the entrance hall and then up the stairs. He stopped at a large door and opened it for Nathan.

"This is your room, Master. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call on us."

"Yeah, thanks," Nathan said and stepped in.

The door closed behind him and the dim illumination of only two small glass globes with candles burning behind them lit it. He saw a massive bed with a big canopy and ornate quilting. There was an armoire on one wall and a large vanity on the other. On either side of the bed were small tables, one of which with a washbasin and pitcher like in the powder room. Nathan sighed and walked over to the vanity, looking at the dim reflection in the polished steel staring back at him.

"Good evening, Master," he heard from the side of the vanity.

He jumped a little and looked over to see the skunk wrapped in burlap sitting in a chair and patiently waiting for him. "Oh, Arla. I forgot that you were supposed to meet me here."

"I'm sorry, Master," she said in a soft voice that hinted she was genuinely afraid that he would be angry.

"For what? It's not your fault. I've just had a lot on my mind since dinner."

"How was your meal, Master?"

"Oh, terrific. Absolutely fabulous. The soup, the fish, the salad. Oh, and of course, the roasted living person they served for the main course. Fucking savages," Nathan snarled and Arla cringed in her chair at Nathan's outburst. "Hey, it's okay," his tone was a reassuring as he could make it. "Again, this is not your fault."

"I ... see. May I do anything for you, Master?"

"Yes, Arla. I'm going to give you an order, and it's the only order I'll ever give you. Don't call me master. My name is Nathan. I don't see you as a servant, I don't see you as a slave. I see you as an equal."

"I ... I'm sorry, Master. I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Nathan, not master."

"Yes, Mas-" she cut herself off and looked down at the floor.

Nathan stepped over to her and pushed his finger under her chin and lifted it up. He could see big brown eyes looking back up at him. The faint glow of the subdued candles sparkled in them. Nathan moved his hand up from her chin and pulled her hood off the top of her head. Her headfur was long and white, and seemed to flow off her with two little black peaks on the sides of her head where her ears parted the fur around it and stood up.

He took in the delicate features of her face. The contrasting black and white stripes on her muzzle, the soft cheeks and the brown eyes big as saucers looking back at him. Her short muzzle and delicate mouth. The very subtle overbite of her canines resting on her bottom lip. Her short whiskers around her button nose and atop her eyebrows.

"Wow," he said aloud, then cleared his throat and took a step back from her as he realized that he was staring and even blushing. He moved his hand away from her and cocked her head to the side a little as she studied him in turn. Nathan shook it off as best he could then sterned his expression a bit.

"Okay, Arla. I know this is kind of a hard concept for you, but let's just start with ... getting you out of this uncomfortable looking flour sack you're wearing."

"Master?" she said curiously.

"Take your robe off," Nathan explained.

"Yes ... Master," her tone was a bit unnerved.

Nathan watched as she stood up from the chair. He sighed softly as he shook off her trepidation as just being nervous and turned around to walk back across the room to the armoire. Opening it up and looking inside, he saw a surprising amount of clothes in it. It looked like it was stocked for a couple to stay for weeks in the room without ever needing their own clothing. Nathan scoured the selection before he pulled a silky garment out that he would have described as a nightie.

"Okay, give this a try," Nathan said as he looked back at the skunk, who was standing with her burlap robe folded in her paws and nothing else. "Jesus, you're naked." Nathan looked away. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you didn't have any underwear on."

"Under-wear, Master?"

"Yeah. You know? Bra, panties, loincloth? Things you wear under your clothes."

"Like the Lady's brassier, petticoat and corset?"

"Yeah. Brassier. That's the fancy French word for the mother-fucker, isn't it?"

"But, of course no servant would be allowed such finery, Master."

"Yeah, well, put this on," Nathan said as he balled the nightgown up and tossed it at the skunk. He stood looking away as he heard her shuffle a bit and then looked back over when he he didn't hear the skunk moving around anymore. Arla was standing with the nightgown down to her toes very much like a one piece dress. "There, that's better," Nathan said as he walked back over to the skunk.

He looked her over and noticed the fabric hugged her front tightly. As loose as it was, it should have left the small framed skunk plenty of room. He could see every curve of her figure as he looked down, subconsciously drinking it in. Past her knees just below the bottom of the fabric, he saw small black toes sticking out that resembled more paws than feet. Then he saw her tail tip brush the floor.

"Ah," he said aloud. "That's the problem. Your tail doesn't have anywhere to go."

"I'm so sorry, Master," Arla said and cringed as if she was about to be struck. "I know we're not supposed to show our tails."

"What? No, it's okay." Nathan stepped around behind her and knelt down. The large bulge in the back of the nightgown was obvious. "Why wouldn't you be allowed to show your tails?"

"Master ... that is, the master of the house, has told us we're never to expose our tails. It's repulsive."

"Well, there's nothing repulsive about a skunk having a tail," Nathan said as he slid his hand up under it and bunched the fabric. "Lift your tail, please. Bring the tip up to your waist."

The fabric moved as Arla arched her tail upward. When Nathan saw the bulk of it up, he reached in his pocket and flicked his folding knife open. He carefully put the tip against the fabric and pushed it through, dragging the sharp side down until he'd cut a slit in the material. Nathan folded his knife and put it back in his pocket and reached inside the hole he'd made and gently grasped her tail tip.

He felt Arla jump when he put his hand on her. "It's okay, Arla. I'm not going to hurt you." Nathan tugged softly until the black fur was through the slit. "Now, push your tail back down." When the white stripes started to appear, Nathan released her tail and watched as it worked its way until it was fully exposed. He saw the tight fabric relax and he stood up behind her.

She had two stripes down the plush fur, the one on the left broader than the one of the right, and they met in a point near the black tip. The inside of the markings was hollow and the dark black fur made it resemble an inverted candle flame. Nathan smiled as he put his hands on her shoulders. "That looks a lot more comfortable."

Arla's tense shoulders relaxed a little in his hands. Her soft panting turned into quivering inhales. Nathan looked at the long headfur still tucked into the neck of the nightgown and moved his hands to it and pulled it up until the length and let it drape down her back.

The ends of Arla's headfur stopped just above her tail. It looked to Nathan as if had been years of growth, and it was meticulously clean and well groomed. His hands slipped away from it as the small skunk turned around and faced him. Despite her former owners forcing her to stay concealed, he could tell she took care of herself.

"Is that better?" he asked softly and Arla shied her gaze down.

"Yes, Master," she answered while keeping her eyes on his chest.

"Good," Nathan said before easing her chin up to look at him again. "Now, the next problem at hand. I don't want you to call me master. I don't own you. You no longer have to do anything that you don't want to do. I realize that might be a hard to grasp when you have no concept of it, but I think you'll appreciate it."

"But, Mas-" she stopped herself again and tried to look away, but Nathan's hand under her chin kept her eyes on him.

"Call me Nathan. That's my name," he said and she looked at him shyly. "Don't worry; you won't be in trouble for calling me by my name."

"But ... Nathan," she finally managed. "We're forbidden from addressing our masters informally."

"Ah, but since I'm not your master, there's no issue."

"Yes, but-"

"No," Nathan interrupted. "From the moment I acquired you, you became free. You don't have a master. If anyone has an issue with that, they'll have an issue with me." Arla lifted her chin off his hand and looked down at the ground, but Nathan eased it back up to him again. "The floor has to be getting boring, Arla."

"Why? Why are you being so kind to me?"

"Because I have no reason not to. There's no reason why I wouldn't treat you or any of your kind as an equal. I don't care what the people here think. If they had come from where I come from, they'd be amazed that you walk upright and talk." Nathan paused as he sensed that he was losing the skunk. "Look, what I'm saying is, there's no reason that you shouldn't be treated as well as any human. No, even more than that, you should be treated better because they've enslaved a whole race just to satisfy their own laziness."

"I still don't understand," she said. "Talking this way, treating me this way will put you in danger. Even mentioning freeing a servant is enough to merit a death warrant."

"So be it," Nathan said. "Bringing freedom to the oppressed has been my calling my entire adult life. I accepted a long time ago that the pursuit of that might cost me my life. It's a price I'd gladly pay, even if the only one I ever truly free is you."

"Master ..." Arla looked down and scowled a bit, then looked back up with a new determination. "Nathan. I don't want to see you hurt because of me."

"Well, tomorrow we can go separate ways. You're free. You don't have to follow me."

"No," she exclaimed. "I, uh, I wouldn't know where to go. If I was caught without a master, I'd be sold, or killed."

"I don't want to put you in a situation you don't want to be in. That's what freedom is. The freedom to choose what you want." Nathan watched her facial expressions shift as she thought about his words. He looked at her face. Her bangs draped lightly over her eyes, her mouth shifted and her eyes darted. Nathan smiled softly.

"I ... I want to stay with you," she said softly as she looked back up at him.

"Are you sure?"

Arla looked down for a moment and then looked up at him and gave him a determined nod. "You're so kind. I want to repay you for that, Mast- Nathan."

"If that is truly your choice. I want you to know this, though. You don't owe me anything. I'm kind to you because I know in my heart that it's the right thing to do."

Arla nodded softly then smiled at him. It was the first time he'd seen her smile and it filled his chest with warmth and contentment. He'd never felt that way about any human before, and the thought of that was a little frightening. Nathan returned her smile then stepped back.

"Well, I'm sure tomorrow is going to be a long day," Nathan said. "I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"Of course," she said softly. "Would you like me to turn the bed down for you?"

"No thank you," Nathan replied. "I can turn the covers down by myself."

"Would you, like anything before bed?"

"No thank you, Arla," Nathan said then shook his head. "You're a servant anymore. You don't have to wait on me."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry for wanting to make me comfortable," Nathan said as he walked over to the bed.

He pulled the wooden sword from his belt loop and sat it against the wall. He reached down and grabbed the bottom of his black shirt and peeled it over his head, wadding it into a ball and tossing it on the floor. Nathan interlocked his fingers and stretched his arms behind his back with a groan as he tried to work the days soreness out of him.

When he glanced back at the skunk, he saw her starting at him. She noticed it and looked away from him and at his sword. Arla cocked her head a little then looked back at Nathan.

"M- ... Nathan? What is that?"

"It's a boken," he replied.

"A, bow-kin?"

"Mm, it basically means wooden sword."

"So, it's a weapon?"

"Yes and no," Nathan said. "It can be used as a weapon, but its mostly for training."

"And that's what they use in your homeland?"

"No," Nathan said and chuckled. "No, not many people in my homeland use swords of any kind."

"Oh," Arla said softly then took a few small steps toward Nathan, "But you do. Are you a hunter like Master Balthas, or a knight?"

"I was a soldier, but that feels like a long time ago now."

"So you have had to fight?"

"Yeah," Nathan said and sat down on the bed. "Two tours in Afghanistan and three quarters of one in Iraq. Medical discharge after that."

"Where are those places?"

"From my home, they were about as far away as you could go. At least, until I came here."

"Where did you come from?"

"Nowhere you'd know. At least, not yet." Nathan looked at her and smiled. "Hopefully, you'll know what it's like in my homeland before this is all over."

"Will you take me there?"

"I wish I could," Nathan said and sighed. "I don't know how to get back. I don't think I can get back."

"Why can't you go back?"

"Because I'll be busy here. Lots of work to do."

Arla nodded softly and then stopped as she noticed she was standing by the bed just a few steps from Nathan.

"So, Arla," Nathan said, pulling her focus back to him. "We've jawed for a bit about me. Tell me some about you? How long have you been here?"

"At the estate? I was purchased from the broker in Autumn the third summer after I was born."

"So you've been a servant since you were three?"

"No, I was born a servant, like all furs. I've been the property of Lord Balthas for sixteen summers past."

"So you're nineteen?"

"Nineteen?"

"Your age. You're nineteen years old?"

"I suppose that would be about nineteen years, yes."

"So you don't know when your birthday is?" Nathan deduced with his question.

"Birthday? No, servants don't celebrate the day of birth. That's a special celebration for the masters."

"I see," Nathan said as he stood up and faced her. "Well, I'm twenty-five, in case you're curious."

"Twenty-five?" Arla said confused. "Twenty-five years old? That would make you middle-aged."

"Middle aged? Twenty-five is young. Got a lot left in me, God willing." Nathan cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her. "How old do I look?"

"You look younger than I am, Mast-" Arla caught herself and looked away.

"So, how long do people live here?"

"Um, well, Lady Balthas, that is the late Lady Balthas, was forty-five when she left us. Lord Balthas is fifty, but he's healthy enough we believe he'll see sixty days of birth."

"And sixty is an old age to die?"

"Oh my, yes. I'd hate to think how far my health will have faded if I lived sixty summers." Arla cocked her head as she looked up at him. "How long do they live where you're from?"

"Eighty or ninety isn't uncommon. Anyone that dies before fifty dies young. Is healthcare just that poor here?"

"Healthcare?"

"Well, that would explain it," Nathan said as he shook his head. "Let me guess, you don't know what gunpowder or petroleum is, either?"

"I'm sorry?" Arla said as she looked at him curiously.

"Terrific. So even if I get my car out of the woods, there's no way I can get fuel to power it. I'm assuming nitromethane is way out of the question."

"Are you okay, Nathan?"

"Yeah, Arla," he said and sighed loudly. "It's just a little unnerving that I'll never race again."

"Race?"

"In my car. Since I left the Army, racing is the only thing that really focuses me and helps me keep serene. On the days I get my adrenaline pumping, I don't have nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"Don't worry too much about it," Nathan said and smiled at her. "I'll just have to focus on other things. I would like you to do something for me."

"Of course," she said and returned his smile. "Anything you need."

"Be selfish."

"Excuse me, Master?"

"Nathan," he corrected. "Be selfish. Do something you enjoy doing. Don't worry about what my needs. Focus on your own."

Arla furled her brow and cocked her head. Nathan chuckled at the skunk then sat back down and raised his legs onto the bed.

"We can work on that as you explore your other freedoms. Now, I really need some sleep."

"Of course," Arla said and looked over at the door. "I'll return to the servants quarters and-"

"Sleep on a bed of straw? No. You can sleep in here. There's plenty of room for both of us."

"But, Master, that's not ..."

"It's not what?" Nathan asked as he looked up at her.

Arla sighed and looked back at him. She nodded her head softly then stepped over to the side of the bed beside him. "I know it's not socially acceptable to lay with a skunk, but I do wish to make you happy."

"Lay with? Arla, I'm not asking for sex. I just thought you would enjoy sleeping in a comfortable bed. I can even take the floor if you would like."

"The floor? No, it's just ..." Arla shied her eyes away and ran a toe pad over the wooden floor.

"Yes?"

"I mean, you had me show you my tail, and that's what they do in the brothels, or so Master Balthas says."

"Whoa, I didn't know I was propositioning you, Arla. I just wanted to try and make you comfortable. I didn't mean to do anything to you that you didn't want."

"No, it's not that," she said softly and looked back up at him. "You're so nice. You make me feel like my heart is swelling and glowing. Other guests of Lord Balthas have had the servants spend the night in their quarters. I ... just thought ..."

"Arla, I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want. If sleeping in here makes you uncomfortable, or you think I want something from you because of that, I'm not going to stop you from going back to the servants quarters."

"I ... want to," she said quietly.

"You ... want to?"

Arla nodded shyly then looked away and covered her face with her paws. Nathan eased back off the bed and stood up in front of the skunk. He took her paws in his hands and gently pulled them away and the little skunk looked up at him.

"Arla, I ... there's something about you. Something I've never felt toward anyone before. I'm not going to tell you to sleep with me. I am going to ask you if you're sure it's what _you_want."

"I want to," she said and then cooed softly. "What I felt, when you were touching my tail, something inside me. My cheeks and ears were hot, my breath felt short and I knew then, that even if you were to demand it, I wouldn't want to refuse it."

"From the first time I saw you, your brown eyes looking at me from under that hood in the parlor, I felt there was something different about you. I know what it is, now. You're beautiful."

Arla looked away and closed her eyes, but Nathan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She laid her cheek against his chest and Nathan rubbed her back. "If we're caught together, bedding a skunk is not something Master Balthas would react well to."

"I care little for what others think of me, Arla. Right now, there's only one other I care about, and that's you." Nathan lifted her off the floor and she grasped his body. He eased back onto the bed and laid down, pulling the skunk on top of him.

Arla's legs slid down against Nathan's hips and the fabric of the nightgown brushed his bare stomach and chest as he pulled her against him. Her soft paw pads held his shoulders and he looked up into her eyes. The small skunk was panting against him as he slid his hands down her back, over her hips and then her small, perky backside.

The skunk put her muzzle against his chest and murred. Nathan stopped and looked down at her curiously. "What was that?" he asked.

The skunk looked up at him and blinked a little, obviously confused by his query.

"That sound you made," Nathan explained, "what was it?"

Arla's eyes darted away for a moment and then she eased her body down against his, rubbing the silky fabric against his stomach and her hips against Nathan's. She closed her eyes as the sensations and desire built in her and she murred softly again.

"God, baby girl," Nathan said as he caressed her rear again. "I don't know what that is, but it's a hell of a turn-on."

"Turn-on?" she asked softly as she looked up at him again.

"Yeah. It makes me want you even more."

The skunk smiled softly as she pushed her backside against his hands and murred for him again. She was starting to move a little faster, pushing her covered rear up and grinding her hips down. Nathan tugged the silken fabric up and moved his paws down over her bare thighs, letting her fur slide through his fingers.

"Nathan," the small skunk said softly.

"Yes, Arla?"

"This feeling ... it's so strong. I've never felt anything like this. My heart is beating so fast, my whole body is shaking."

"And we haven't even started yet," Nathan said before leaning up and pressing his lips to her muzzle.

Arla cooed in his mouth as she felt his tongue push inside. She moved her own tongue against his and panted. Her eyes closed and she leaned down into the kiss while sliding her paws over Nathan's chest. Her paws grasped at him and her body pressed down against him.

Nathan pulled his head back from the kiss and looked up at Arla. Her chest rising against his as she laid atop him, her bangs draped down over her closed eyes. Her paws holding his body tightly as her head lowered and draped on him. Nathan slid his hands up the back of her thighs and brushed the back of his fingers between her legs, feeling a warm dampness on his skin.

"Baby girl?" Nathan whispered softly.

"Mmm?" the little skunk replied, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.

"Is this your first time?"

Arla looked up at him and opened her eyes. She shied her eyes down and nuzzled her nose against him softly. "With a human?" she managed with a little embarrassment.

"With anyone?"

Arla looked back at him and nodded softly.

"Would you like to know something?" Nathan said, and the small skunk nodded. "You'll be my first, too."

Arla smiled softly then yipped as she felt Nathan's fingers brush her nether lips. She closed her eyes and moaned at the sensations of being touched by another for the first time. Her paws clenched his chest tightly and she pushed her rear back against his hand.

"You seem eager," Nathan said softly. "Are you nervous?"

"A little, I think," Arla replied. "But all this heat, all this ... desire. There's so much."

"I know the feeling," Nathan said before easing the tip of his finger up inside of her, causing her to gasp then moan as it slid past her soft lips. He pushed a little deeper and her muscles clamped him like a vice. Arla's walls were soaking, but the much smaller body and virgin tightness stopped him before he could even get inside to his medial joint. "Damn," he said hotly, "You're so tight."

Nathan withdrew his finger, realizing that he'd not be able to get inside her without some serious work. He brought his arms up around her back and rolled over. Arla held him tightly as he switched positions with her and then he eased up off the bed and looked down at her. "I'm going to have to do something so this can work," Nathan explained. "Lay back and try to relax."

She looked up at him and nodded softly before he eased himself down to her midsection. He grasped the ends of the nightgown and lifted it up over her knees and hips. Her back rested on the bed with the white underside of her full tail pointing up at him from her backside. His hands slid down her thighs and to the plush soft fur of her tail as he stroked it gently.

"I never thought my first time would be a woman with a tail," he said then looked up at her brown eyes. She was looking back at him curiously. He looked back down at the white fur around her pubic area, the pink lips of her wet sex peeking slightly over the dampness from it. It looked much like he would expect from any human female.

From his own limited experience with female anatomy, he was fairly certain that he could still make it work. He lowered his face down to the slightly puffy tuft where a human's pubic hair would be and bumped his nose against it softly. He could smell her arousal emanating from her damp fur and leaking from the juices that glistened on her lips.

There was something else mixed with it. Something that he noticed but it wasn't overpowering. It was what her masters had tried to contain with heavy cloth. It was what she was born with, and it was every bit as part of her as her beautiful eyes, her delicate face or her shapely body. It was a musk that mixed with her arousal and complimented it like a bouquet of roses and lilacs. It was something beyond alluring to him.

Nathan eased down a little farther down then pressed his mouth against Arla. His tongue extended and he swept it upward along her labia from the base to the small nub at the top. He heard the small skunk gasp as her legs parted and eased open. He couldn't help but smile at her reaction.

Licking up her slit then brushing his tongue back down. He felt Arla's tail twitch then lift up and brush his bare chest as the tip of his tongue pushed past her clit and into her. He could taste her arousal on the sweet buds of his tongue tip.

Nathan felt Arla arc her back and lean up, and then he felt her soft paws on the back of his head. After a few moments of the strokes up and down her sex, he locked his lips against her and pushed his tongue inside as deep as it would go.

"Nathan," she gasped as his tongue penetrated her, "that's ... it feels so ..."

Nathan responded by grunting in agreement before he pushed his tongue up and then down inside of her velvet passage. He could hear her panting and taste her getting even more wet. A little splash of her arousal sprayed lightly against his lips as he worked her. He pulled his tongue back out and lightly nipped the swollen bud on her clitoral hood.

Arla yipped and then let out a long sultry moan as her fingers tumbled through his hair. She felt Nathan nibble her softly then plunge his tongue back inside. Her hips bucked up against him as she panted, her vision blurring to stars as her lover snaked his tongue against her involuntary muscle clenching.

Her body tingled from the electrical pulses of pleasure radiating from her loins. Her legs quivered and her toes curled as she gasped for air. The pale sheets of darkness in the room peeled away into brilliant and vivid illumination. "N-Nathan," she said aloud as she struggled to keep what wits she still had about her, "something is happening! Something is ... ah, gods!"

Nathan felt her muscles squeeze against his tongue so hard that it almost forced his tongue out of her. The soft trickle of her arousal sprayed against his mouth as her hips pressed against him tightly and her fists balled up and gripped his hair. He smiled against her sex as he gave the skunk her first orgasm.

Nathan slowly eased back and Arla's fingers reluctantly released his hair. He crawled up over her and looked down at her panting face, her eyes still locked closed and her muzzle slightly agape. Pushing his lips to hers, he opened his mouth and covered her muzzle to lock into a kiss.

Arla opened her eyes and blinked softly as her human lover probed inter her mouth with his tongue. She could taste herself on his tongue, and her cheeks and ears burned as hot as the arousal between her legs. It was unlike anything she ever experienced, and she relished in it. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around him, her paws rubbing his back.

Nathan slowly eased out of the kiss and looked down at her. The little skunk moved her legs up and wrapped them around Nathan's waist, grinding up against her. Nathan chuckled softly then brushed her bangs back. "Awfully eager, aren't you, baby girl?"

"Nathan," she said hotly. "I ... I want you to mount me."

Nathan chuckled and shook his head. He looked back at her expression as a soft pout crept across her muzzle. "Never heard it put like that before," he said. "I'm getting to it." He lifted off her and sat up on his knees, pulling out of Arla's arms and legs. Moving his hands to her hips, he coaxed her to roll over.

He slid his hands back down under the fabric of her nightgown and pushed it up, lifting the material as her tail slipped through the slit he had made for her. Her fur ruffled against it as she lowered her tail back down until the tip was free. The bushy tail came to rest on Nathan's shoulder and he rubbed his cheek against it.

He looked down at her shapely hips, her hourglass curves and her long headfur cascading over her shoulders and back. "I still can't get over how beautiful you are, Arla." He saw the skunk shy away at the compliment, but he didn't allow her to shrug it off for long. His hands slid up her sides until the fabric of the nightgown bunched around her headfur.

Caressing down her body under her arms and across her chest to her breasts. He cupped them both and squeezed them softly, causing the skunk to moan. Pulling her up gently against his body, he rubbed her nipples before moving on to the fabric and lifting it off her.

Arla raised her arms as the opening in the fabric eased over her head, then lowered them down. Nathan tossed the nightgown to the floor and then wrapped his arms around her in a hug, holding back against his chest. He kissed her neck as he caressed her front softly.

Nathan eased back from her slightly as he moved his hands around her, gliding his fingers through her fur before quickly unfastening his belt. He pushed his pants off his waist and eased them over his knees before kicking them off at the foot of the bed.

Arla slumped down a bit and rested on her paws before looking back at Nathan as she felt the bed shifting. She looked at the fabric still covering him even after he had removed his trousers. She blinked and then cocked her head. "What is that?" she asked as she saw the strange short pants still adorning him.

"My boxers? That's my underwear," Nathan replied. "And I think you already know why they look like a pitched tent."

"But ... why wear them?"

"Given the circumstances, that's a good question," Nathan replied before hooking the elastic band with his thumbs and pushing them down.

Arla's eyes went wide as she saw the erect penis spring free. She turned her head away and blushed softly, never having personally seen an aroused human. She gasped softly as she felt Nathan's hands on her hips pull her back toward him. Arla was lifted up slightly and looked down as she felt Nathan's erection slide between her legs.

She saw the head of Nathan's member peeking out from between her legs as he began to rock back and forth, rubbing it against her thighs and damp lips. She shivered at the feel of her opening being teased by the shaft and flare on the glans. Arla pushed her body down against it and started to move her hips instinctively.

"It feels like you're ready, baby girl," Nathan whispered in her ear.

Arla murred softly then yipped as she felt Nathan gently push her down on all fours. She closed her eyes as the tip of Nathan's member slid up and down her soaking slit. She bit her lip as she felt him push forward, but her tight virgin opening held him outside.

Nathan held her hips firmly as he pushed a little harder. The tip of his member parted her outer lips then the glans slipped in her vaginal canal. The skunk under him cried out at the sudden loss of the resistance as his girth expanded her completely unstretched hole.

"Nathan!" she cried out as she gripped the comforter tightly in her fists. "It ... it hurts."

"I know," Nathan said as he rubbed her sides. "I'll go slow. It will probably hurt for awhile though."

Arla looked back at him and nodded softly. A small tear welled in the corner of her eye and soaked her cheek fur when she tried to wink it out. She drew a shaky breath then put her face down in the comforter. Even though it was painful, she still felt hot on the inside and her heart still raced. She knew she didn't want him to stop.

Nathan stayed with just the head of his member inside of her. He was sure that he'd torn her hymen, and the tight walls wouldn't have made rapid movement possible at the moment even if he had wanted to. He stroked over her backside, down her thighs and pet her tail.

All the while, her muscles continued to squeeze at his glans, involuntarily he assumed. Along with the beautiful skunk in front of him and the stimulation, it was more than enough to keep him aroused. It came as a bit of a surprise when the small skunk was the one that started to push back against him.

"Are you sure you're okay, dearest?" he asked her.

"I ... it still hurts, some," she replied. "But I ... I want to keep going."

Nathan rubbed her pert buttock with his right hand while he wrapped the left around her hip. As she pushed back, he eased forward. Slowly, inch-by-inch, her inner muscles gave way until the head of his glans bumped against her cervix with just a little of his length left to spare.

"God, baby girl. You're so tight and hot. How do you feel?"

"It's sore," she said as she panted. "But ... it's so full."

"I'm about to pull out a bit," Nathan told her. "I'll go slow."

He eased about half of his length out of her and then rocked slowly back in. He heard Arla gasp sharply as her muscles squeezed against him, but as he pushed against her resisting muscles, the little skunk pushed back against him as well. Nathan grunted as he bottomed out inside her again, still rubbing her cheek with his right hand.

It was hard for Nathan to keep his pace under control as the little skunk continued to push back against him each time. He mustered all the willpower he could to not just plow into the skunk. Despite her wetness, pushing back against him and the mix of her virgin blood, the tightness around his member was almost overwhelming.

Arla clenched her teeth and drew in a sharp breath as her lover bottomed out in her again. She grabbed the comforter tightly when he started easing back out. It wasn't as bad as it was when he first pushed inside of her, and the sharp pain was slowly fading away.

She pushed back against him again, her own desire overcoming the tender soreness. On his next thrust she pushed back a littler harder, causing his glans to butt against her cervix which made her slightly uncomfortable on top of the pain. Despite the protest of her body, she knew in her heart she wanted all of Nathan.

Her own movements became quicker and harder, trying to get the last bit of him in. She arched upward and discovered that by lightly gyrating her hips as he thrust, his member rubbed something inside of her that, for a brief moment, overwhelmed all of the pain. Arla repeated that and got the same result.

Nathan grunted as Arla's new motion changed the angles of the tightness around him. He moved his hand off her rear and gripped her hips with both hands, rocking her body as her hips moved against him. "Arla," he said as his breathing picked up. "Damn, that feels wonderful."

Arla's response was to move even faster. Nathan took it as an indication that she could take a him being a little more vigorous and he started pulling more of his length out and pushing in faster. After what seemed like several minutes of a slow build up, his pace was getting to the point beyond the teasing and into the actual act of coupling.

Nathan's hands gripped her tighter, helping her keep pace with him as almost all of his penis withdrew from her and but for a very small bit, pushed the entire length in. The skunk wasn't gasping nearly as much as he did, and she was started to coo and moan on his inward strokes.

Arla sighed contently as the sharp pain was now completely absent. The soreness was still there, but even that was diminished. As she rocked her hips back and up against him, tinges of pleasure started to radiate through her. It was similar to when Nathan had his tongue inside of her, but it felt deeper and more intimate.

Her panting was supplemented by moaning as the first sexual experience of her life was shared by this strange human that she wanted nothing more than to be in that moment with. Just as she was getting used to the quickening pace, she felt Nathan move his arms up around her waist. Arla yipped in surprise as she was lifted off the bed and held tightly against Nathan's chest.

She couldn't move her hips much in the new position, but the angle let Nathan thrust up into her in the same way that teased her g-spot. Nathan also picked his pace up, moving his length in and out much faster as he held her up and did all of the work. She let out a deep moan as her paws grasped his arms and squeezed them tightly.

Nathan eased himself back a little more, holding the light skunk off him while he made love to her. He could feel his climax drawing close, and wanted to slow his pace to stave it off, but his lust for the small skunk made that impossible.

He held her close to him as he pushed in as deep as he could. The tip of his member pressed tightly against the barrier of her womb and sprayed up inside of her. It flooded in the small skunk as pulse after pulse of his seed filled her small womb, then leaked around his shaft. Nathan kissed her neck gently as he panted, and his skunk gave him a small murr in response.

They eased back down onto the bed, Nathan slowly lowering her to her side as he kept holding her tightly. Arla's tail brushed against his chest while he panted into her headfur, basking in the afterglow of his climax. Arla lightly nuzzled her head back against him while she enjoyed the feel of her lover still inside of her.

"Are you okay, baby girl?" Nathan asked in a whisper.

"Nathan," she said and murmured. "I never thought it would feel like that."

"I know." Nathan paused as he hugged her tightly. "That was amazing. Does it still hurt?"

"Only a little," Arla replied then giggled. "It feels much better than it hurts."

"Good." Nathan yawned and then rubbed down her belly. He inhaled the scent of her headfur and sighed. "Can you get pregnant?"

"I ... humans and furs can't do that."

"I see," Nathan said as he rubbed over her tummy. "Too bad."

"Too bad?" Arla said softly, then bit her bottom lip. "Yeah," she agreed. "Nathan? This feeling in my chest, when you're holding me, or even when I'm just looking at you ..."

"I know," Nathan replied. "I love you too, Arla."

Arla blinked then smiled. "Love," she said as she closed her eyes. "I never dreamed it would happen to me." A small tear streamed her cheek as the veil of consciousness slipped away with her smile still on her muzzle.