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Dru was staring at his veggs and sweetcake. Staring and not eating. The resort commissary was lively this morning- lots of workers eating together, talking and joking and getting ready for the day, same as me and Dru. Except here was Dru, not talking, not joking, and definitely not looking ready.

I swallowed a bit of the over-salted veggs and said, "Hey," but he didn't look up. His ears didn't even flick to the sound of my voice. Trying again, I said, "Dru," a bit louder. That at least got him to look up at me, instead of his untouched food. He still didn't answer, though.

"Dru, what's up with you? You go out last night or something?"

He shook his head and rubbed his muzzle and cheeks with his hands, then pressed his fingers against his eyes, like he had one of those headaches that sits right behind them. I didn't think he had gone out- it was a temptation, sure, and most new breeders did it once, saw what it ultimately cost, and didn't bother again.

"You sick?" I asked in a much quieter voice, though I couldn't stop my long ears from pricking forward in concern. Catching a bug was a hazard of the job when you dealt with so many females from so many faraway places. It meant you had to go off duty for however many days it took for the docs to flush it from your system. And missing days meant missing chits and if you didn't come up with your chits each day you were out.

I felt relief when he shook his head again. I resumed eating my veggs- I would need the protein and the salt for the day ahead. So would Dru. I ate the whole rest of my meal, trying not to notice how many others were looking his way. There were about twenty or so of us breeders at this resort, and you might think we competed against each other. Hell, you might think a lot of things about this job, but I'll tell you that unless you've done it for a summer you have no idea. The others, looking at Dru with quick stolen glances from nearby tables-- they were worried he looked like he was going to limp out. That is, not take any clients today. And since the demand never stopped some of us would earn his chits today.

It seemed inevitable when he finally stood up. "I can't-- I can't do it today, Jin," he said to me. Then he picked up his tray and took it to the waste window and left it there, untouched. I watched him stumble out of the commissary and then looked over at a nearby table where four other breeders were watching and shook my head.

I got my first chit less than a half hour later. I was one of the first in the lounge, and this female liked to get an early start, same as me. She was a lepus like myself; that is, her fur was white all over, no other colors. The resort made sure they had a nice selection of fur colors and patterns among us. Some females really preferred a male who looked like them. Or unlike them. There were even a few non-lepus clients. I had had a badger a few days before. Obviously I couldn't impregnate her, but she paid her creds and got a chit, same as any. Some of us didn't like wasting semen like that. Back in the old days I hear it wasn't even allowed. But creds talk in Silver Beach and it's not like this was some new lepus colony world that needed population.

I led her to one of the adjoining private rooms and began my usual routine- a nuzzle at the hollow of her neck, some nice feather-touches to her ears, a brush of my claws down her back. Tweak her tail. You learn a nice groove that works and you just ride it. She backed away from me, though, before I got through the whole dance. Then she turned and climbed up onto the fresh-made bed.

She said in a low, subtly aggressive voice, "Do it," while coming up onto her knees and tilting her rear at me, tail flagging.

I could tell from her scent and the swelling of her vulva that she had taken estrosane, probably the night before. I didn't need that to get hard- I was already there. They don't hire you if you can't get and stay hard on command. But there was something about knowing I was going to get a client pregnant that got me just that extra little bit more excited.

I nodded, switching from the gentle sensual act to the more instinctual uninhibited posture her voice suggested she wanted. Climbing up behind her I wasted none of her time with the licking and the nuzzling and the petting I would have normally been doing. I just set my feet and dipped my hips down and grabbed her waist. Then I tilted up and in, sinking my lepine shaft into her in one practiced motion. She grunted in response, and pushed back eagerly. I made a nice low growl, deep in my chest and I felt her shiver. Always nice when their desires are so apparent.

She was molten hot inside from the estrosane, and slick as you please. She knew she was my first of the day- probably why she was there so early. The first one after a good night's sleep is always the best. And usually the biggest load, obviously. Probably she knew that too. I was up and going quick, thrusting into her with increasing speed as she lowered her head, ears slicked back against her neck. She didn't have to say anything, though I wouldn't have minded if she had. Sometimes they told me when to do it, and I was good at hitting my cues. This one had told me before I was even in her. Do it.

So I did it, and hissed as my only warning. My frenzied thrusts slowed, then stopped as I pushed her down onto the bed, my shaft pulsing within her grasping channel. Great sticky gouts of my fresh sperm pooled inside her fertile belly. There- that's why I'm here. Not the orgasm- it's deeper than that. A lot of guys I know at school, they think it's some kind of damned vacation. Mating with female after female, all day, for an entire summer. And getting room and board at a fancy resort as payment! But it's not. And if it wasn't for this thrill, satisfying something deep in my brain that needed to spread my seed, I wouldn't have lasted even one week.

I lay on top of her until the contractions in my groin ceased. She purred- a quiet humming sound from her throat, which I could feel through her back. Sometimes they wanted to stay coupled for a while, or just be held. More than once they tried to get another load out of me for free, but I hadn't made that mistake since my first summer, when I was still all swagger and stupid. One chit, one load, one hour. This one didn't need the whole hour, though, and soon enough she was nudging her bottom up against my stomach. I rolled off her, trailing a bit of my semen across the back of her thigh. She carefully scooted herself to the edge of the bed, holding her legs together.

She said, "Thanks," more quietly than she had commanded me earlier. I smiled at her and she nodded. Then she was gone. I liked her. Quick, all business. Lots of clients want more- sometimes a lot more. I get to be a stand-in for males I've never met, or some idea of a male that no one ever was. I can handle the physical stuff no problem. The resorts make damned sure of that. Dozens of tests. Genetic profile, ejaculate volume, cardiovascular stress tests, plus I had to prove that I could deliver viable sperm ten times a day. My penis couldn't be too small or too large. Bunch of psychs asked me about a million bizarre questions. But I had passed and now I owed the resort five chits a day for my room and my food and whatever medical care I might need. And for those five chits I owed the clients whatever they asked for. A lot of them felt that chit bought them all of me for an hour, but you learn to hide yourself inside yourself.

I made seven chits that day, banking two for days off or for profit at the end of the summer. The other six clients were a mix. All lepus, as usual (that badger had been a kind of a treat- I was sort of hoping for some other exotic client). Two had clearly not taken estrosane-- both seemed older as well. No matter, I still gave them what they paid for. My last of the day I thought had been one female, but after she handed me her chit she pushed her young daughter at me. The youngster looked terrified, but I calmed her down, took it slow. There's a dance for that too and after three summers I knew it by heart. If they followed the usual pattern, I would see her mother the next day.

Back at the commissary for the evening meal I looked around for Dru, but I didn't see his distinctive orange fur anyplace. I sat with two of the new guys. I looked at them and flicked my ears just so, asking the question we always did at the end of the day.

"Ten," said the tall black and white male, with the curl of a proud smile on his muzzle. This was his first summer.

"Nice," I said. "Double day. I got seven."

"Six," said his grey-furred companion, with less enthusiasm.

"Anything over five is a good day, my man," I said as I dug into dinner.

We talked about our clients for the day, complained about some, praised others. Halfway through dinner, Dru appeared at the door, looking ruffled and half-asleep. He stumbled to my table and sat down next to me.

"The hell happened to you?" asked Mr. Double Day.

Dru shook his head and looked at me. "I'm out, Jin. I turned in my license."

I put down my sticks. "What? What happened?"

He shrugged. "I'm done. I'm sorry, man. I know I said I'd finish this summer with you, but I want to go home. I want to be me again."

The first-year said, "Aww, fuck. You leave and we all have to pick up your loads. Sack up."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Shut it."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Dep, I don't want whatever this loser caught," he said as he stood up and moved to a different table.

Dep said, "Sorry," then added, "Good luck, Dru," before following his friend.

I focused on Dru. "You got any profit?" I asked, knowing he didn't. He'd been doing the minimum for weeks. He shook his head predictably and I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I have some banked."

"You don't have to," he started to protest.

"I know I don't fucking have to, Dru. But you don't have the creds to catch a transport back to school and Silver Beach doesn't tolerate the credless."

He took the creds and the transport home. He didn't understand why I would help him-- it's not like we knew each other outside this summer job. And I doubted he was coming back. Even if he wanted to, the resorts don't like quitters. He should have seen, though. He was going home to own himself again, and if I could help him, then I still owned a piece of myself, too.