FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I'm starving by the time the taxi drops us off in front of Meryn's, a dingy-looking corner bar with neon signs in the windows and a gray awning sagging over the door. Inside is much nicer than the outside might suggest, with polished hardwood and gleaming brass everywhere. It's kinda crowded, with people seated along the whole length of the bar and most of the booths and tables occupied. I glance around as Carson leads me through the crowd to an empty table. I see an older-looking snow leopard in a fancy, three-piece suit, his silver fur and ashen rosettes sparkling against the fine black material. He catches me staring and I quickly look away.

Carson and I find a table in the back, near the silent, antique jukebox and away from the noisy bar. We've just barely sat down when the snow leopard approaches, somehow not looking out of place in his immaculate black suit, even though most of the clientèle in here is dressed in jeans and T-shirts. He just has an attitude that he belongs here. I wish I had that kind of confidence. He stops beside our table.

"Hello, Violet," he says to me, his deep, gray-green eyes sliding down my body from my long ears to my big feet. I'm used to being ogled, but not like this. I'm trembling when he finally turns away. "And you must be Carson, Violet's manager." He has a musical, cultured accent, like he's from England or something. Did he fly all the way here just to fuck me?

Carson rises from his chair and I quickly do the same, my chair legs scraping across the hardwood floor with a grating squeal and drawing the attention of several nearby patrons. I cringe. We're supposed to be inconspicuous.

"Hello," Carson says. "I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten your name, Mister..."

"You can call me Joseph," the snow leopard says.

Carson nods. "Just making sure. Would you mind leading the way to the restroom so we can check for listening devices?" He's clearly been thinking about this a lot. He sounds so polite and professional.

"That won't be necessary," Joseph says, pulling out an empty chair at our table. "Clyde is an associate of mine. He recommended you." He starts to sit down, then pauses and looks at Carson. "Unless you'd like to check me for wires?"

Carson glances at me and I give my head a tiny shake. "No, that's okay," Carson says, motioning for him to sit down as we retake our own seats. "If Clyde referred you, that's good enough for me."

"All right," Joseph says, making himself comfortable by unbuttoning his suit jacket. The vest underneath is dark blue silk with silver and black rosettes, just like his fur. "Shall we start with a drink?"

I try not to make a face, but the thought of drinking alcohol on an empty stomach makes me nauseous. Carson hesitates, and I'm both relieved and proud of his tact as he answers.

"We'd love to buy you a drink," he says, "but I'm afraid Violet and I were running a bit late this evening and didn't have a chance to eat dinner, and if there's one thing I've learned from experience, it's never drink on an empty stomach. So what can we get you?"

"I'm actually not much of a drinker," Joseph says, his silver whiskers rising as he smiles. "It's more of an expected pleasantry I'd be glad to skip. Shall we get down to business, then?"

"Of course," Carson replies. I find myself sitting there, quietly watching him and admiring the fox he has become in the short week that I've known him, so completely different from the cur who mugged me in the park. I know I shouldn't forget that, forget what he did, what he was, what he could become again if circumstances push him into a similar situation. I shouldn't forget that he took advantage of me, that he nearly got me killed, but I also can't forget that he rescued me. Is this a fairy tale relationship? Hell no, but it's probably the best relationship that a whore like me can expect.

Carson glances at me and I quickly look away, turning my attention to Joseph.

"I know your base rate is two thousand an hour," the snow leopard is saying. "Am I correct in assuming that is for sexual encounters?"

"That's right," Carson says, his ears twitching as he tries to mask his confusion. "Are you looking for...something else?"

"Not completely," Joseph says, his gray-green gaze sliding over to me again and lingering for longer than makes me comfortable. Predation has been outlawed for two hundred years, but the way he looks at me makes me think that if it wasn't, he'd like to devour me whole. "I'd like to contract Violet for two, perhaps three occasions. Only the third would be sexual, and only if the first two occasions go well. Does that sound like something you would be open to discussing?"

"Sure, we can discuss it," Carson says, again glancing at me to see if I have any objections. I don't. Talking doesn't hurt anything. "Since you brought up the fee, can I assume you'd like to negotiate a lower price for the first two times?"

"I'd be willing to pay five hundred an hour," Joseph says and I see Carson bristle. That's one quarter of what we usually ask. But if there's no sex...

"And what would I be doing for five hundred an hour?" I ask, speaking for the first time. Joseph turns to me and I'm suddenly wishing I'd gone ahead and gotten a drink, because my mouth feels full of sand.

"I have two social engagements that I need dates for. Should only be three or four hours each night. Dinner, dancing, mingling, laughing at jokes what weren't funny the first dozen times you heard them. I believe you Americans call it 'arm candy'."

"Me?" I ask, stunned. "Surely, you can do better than me."

"Oh, Violet," he murmurs, a low purr rumbling in his throat. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes upon."

I blush, my face burning so hot it's a wonder my fur doesn't frizzle. "Oh- I- I- Well, I- Thank you," I stammer. "Still, I'm not sure...I don't really...I don't have anything to wear," I finally spit out.

"My tailor will see to that," Joseph says, taking a business card out of his inside breast pocket and laying it upon the table. "I'll make an appointment for you tomorrow morning. The clothes will be yours to keep, of course."

Carson looks over at me, waiting. Five hundred an hour to play dress-up and boy-toy for a rich businessmen? I can do that. I'd be crazy to turn it down. I give him a nod and he goes back to manager-mode. "When are these social engagements?"

"The first is tomorrow night," Joseph says. "The second is two nights after that. We can discuss the possible third night after we see how the first two go."

"All right," Carson says, reaching toward the business card on the table. "We'll do it. What time should we be at the tailor's?"

Joseph passes over the card. "Would ten a.m. work for you?" Carson and I nod. "Good. Here is the key card for the hotel room where I'd like to meet tomorrow evening, around seven." He slides a hotel room card across the table to me. "Bring the clothes with you, please; don't wear them. I'd like to help you get ready."

I look across the table at Carson to see if he thinks that sounds just a little weird to him, too, and I feel his foot tap against mine. He meets my gaze and I see one ear flick back, almost as through he were shooing away a gnat on a still summer evening, but I can read the question in his eyes. Do I want to go through with this? Do I want to play dress-up for some rich wacko for five hundred bucks an hour? I've done a lot worse for a lot less. I give his foot a soft tap back and turn to Joseph.

"I can do that," I say. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"No, that's the brunt of it," Joseph says. "Do you have any questions?"

I hesitate. "Just one: what sort of social engagement is this?" For all I know, it could be a S&M sex circus. I almost think he must read my mind, because he smiles.

"It's a Christmas party; one of my former business partners still keeps in touch. It's just a small affair, maybe two dozen stuffy old foreigners rambling about fortunes made and squandered in bygone times." That doesn't sound so bad. A little boring, perhaps, but certainly not anything to be afraid of. And yet, the thought of being paraded around on the arm of this sophisticated gentleman makes my stomach knot up like an old phone cord. "And now, if that is all, I'll bid you good-night," Joseph says, rising from his chair. "Until tomorrow, Violet." And then he takes my hand and kisses the back of it! I feel myself blush to the tips of my ears and I sit there in shock as he walks away, the black tip of his silver-blue, spotted tail flicking back and forth as he weaves through the crowded bar and disappears.