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2.

Dimitri's libido matched his size. I lost count of how many time he used my mouth those first three days, but by saturday it became so regular I began to fall into a routine.

A klaxon would sound, waking the inmate population. As usual, I was awake before it went off. I'm not sure if that has to do with how uncomfortable it is to try and sleep on a bare concrete floor, while the unslept in top bunk, with it's blanked tucked snugly under a soft mattress looks down on you mockingly... or if I'm just an early riser.

Dimitri threw off his covers. That was my cue.

I scrambled over to the side of his bunk, fishing out the pair of tattered canvas shoes from under it, and kneeling. He swung his legs over, placing his broad feet in my lap.

Dimitri was not a morning person. The first day, I put his shoes on the wrong feet... I think I still have shoe shaped bruises from that faux pas.

"Good morning, sir," I say it almost as a prayer, because I'd hate to know what the tiger was like on a bad morning.

Dimitri grunted and I slipped his shoes on, scooting back on my knees. I tried to keep out of his way as much as possible. Funny how hard that is to accomplish in a closet sized cage.

While he took care of his morning ablutions, I mentally scratched off another day. Four more days until my lawyer shows up.

Eventually a guard makes one of the four daily headcounts. Let me tell you something about the guards: they suck. More than once, one of those bastards have seen Dimitri face-fucking me, but as long as they saw two bodies, they were satisfied everything was copacetic.

Another buzzing blare and the cell opens. Anyone going to breakfast lines up outside the cell and the guards march them to the cafeteria, which I hear is nice. See, because inmates can potentially buy all their food from the commissary, it's not mandatory to go to the cafeteria.

I've not left the cell since I got here... Correction, I've not been allowed to leave the cell since I got here.

I just sit in my corner, like I got a fucking time-out, until the door closes and I'm left to my own devices. Dimitri said I had to stay until the money transferred from my account to his. Just incase someone shiv's me before the transaction completes. He's all heart, that Dimitri.

***

Much to my delight and concern, my ability to zone out has been getting stronger. At the moment, these brief mental jaunts are probably what's keeping me sane. In the long run, I'm scared that one of these times I might just not come back to reality.

The cell doors opened as the breakfast crowd returned. I also returned from my mental oasis.

Dimitri walked in. I looked up at him expectantly. He pulled an apple from his pocket and tossed it to me. Before he was on his bunk, I had the apple fully devoured, core and all. In addition to controlling if I lived or died, and when I'd be allowed out of the cell, he was also my only source of food.

"I got this from Blake."

I stopped licking the apple juice from my fingers and looked to see him holding a white envelope.

Could it be that the money was transferred? Was I finally going to get to leave the cell? I felt an elation I didn't think I'd get to feel before being released from prison.

"That bastard wolf said he was disappointed you were still alive." He slid a nail along the top of the envelope, slicing it open. "That alone might be worth letting you live this long."

I would have rolled my eyes, but I was too caught up in what the letter was... That and I knew better than to mock a fur that could snuff me out like a candle.

Dimitri looked at the paper. At first I thought he was studying the fine print. The minutes ticked by and I started to wonder if he was trying to drag out the suspense to further fray my nerves. Over the tense minutes I even questioned if he might not be fully literate. If he didn't hurry up I might start really letting my imagination run wild.

"How much did you transfer?" His furrowed brow worried me.

"A-all I have."

He looked at me. "How much is 'all you have'?"

"Two hundred and thirty eight-" the crumpling of the paper cut me off. He threw the ball at me. Scared as I was, it was still impressive when he managed to hit me between the eyes without seeming to try.

I uncrumpled the note and read it. "What's the matter? It says it all transferred."

Dimitri leaned back on his bunk. "I thought you said you had 'money.'"

"I did... and now you have that 'money,'" I think the tiger and I were on the wrong page.

"Come here."

I looked behind me, at the open cell door and the common area below. I could have run. But there were no guards that I could see, and the big locked door of the cellblock. It wouldn't be worth it.

With the help of the bars I pulled myself to my feet. Spending most of my day sitting or kneeling left my legs tingly. I staggered to the bunk and climbed in between the tiger's legs. It was becoming so normal, I could imagine a day when I might have the luxury of spacing out while giving head. God, that would be nice.

I felt Dimitri's hand grip my hair, but instead of guiding me down, it forced me to look at him. "Two hundred really ain't worth my time."

My face was frozen in horror. That moment, I assume he was telling me that I was about to be killed. I started stammering, looking for any words that might change the course we were headed on.

He clamped my jaw shut with his other hand. "Quiet, while I'm speaking."

I nodded as much as I could in his iron grip. He took his hands off me, leaving me between his legs with my arms on his hips to support me. Might look romantic under different circumstances.

"You've been a good boy, so far. And I'm impressed. Most furs wouldn't have put up with this shit like you. So I'm going to give you a choice." He propped himself up on his elbows, bringing his face close to mine.

It's worth noting that I was one hundred percent present for this. My mind stayed focused like a laser.

"You've got two options. Be out of here by thursday," like a psychic he answered my nebulous doubts about that option's feasibility. "Don't worry about Blake. There are ways to get you out of this cell..."

As a sign of good faith, I chose to assume those ways would leave me alive.

"Or, you could stay with me. But I stand by what I said. I can't have a cellmate. You'd be more of a..." There's no good way to end that sentence, in my opinion. "Pet." There, see?

"Maybe having some companionship would do me good. I've spent too much time locked in solitary... might be nice for me." His voice got distant. I think he was speaking more to himself than me.

I had so many questions. "D-did you want my answer now?"

"No. That wouldn't be fair. I'll show you around and you can give me your answer thursday."

Dimitri talking about what was fair. That was hilarious. But a nice gesture. For him, anyways.

I already knew my answer. It had been a terrifying, humiliating, and thoroughly unpleasant time spent with him, but at least it would be short. I was still going to wait for thursday to tell him. Why risk insulting him?

He was staring at me. "Thank you, sir?" half questioning if that was the response he was waiting for.

He laid back and put his arms behind his head. That left me in the awkward position of kneeling over him on this cramped bunk. But now I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, not just imagine it. Four days and I'd be free from Dimitri, and on the road to being free from this hellhole.

Something sharp stung my ear. I yelped and shook my head. Dimitri had just flicked me.

"Get sucking or you won't live to make your decision," he said with only a fraction of his usual malice.

I apologized and started tugging his pants down.

I won't be seeing you much longer, I thought at Dimitri's cock. I'd had enough of him to last several lifetimes.

I woke the snake with some gentle licking, not using my hands. Dimitri's grunts gave me a good indication of how I was doing. Soon my lips were sliding over the head, putting a little pressure with my lips and poking the sensitive slit with my pointy tongue. That really got him hot.

Maybe a little too hot. If I teased him too much I knew he'd snatch a handful of my hair and take over, manually pumping my head. Rather than risk that spoiling my good mood, I went down. In only a few bobs I had my throat loose enough to take him in a satisfactory manner.

I started humming a little victory tune, knowing this was soon going to be a funny repressed memory that I'd only have to face in therapy, or when the write my autobiography, once I become a world renowned avant-garde artist.

"Fuck!," Dimitri moaned. "What is that?" His hips bucked in pleasure.

I smiled to myself. Experimenting, I hummed a tuneless note, first in a higher pitch, then a lower. Finding the right notes sent the tiger into ecstasy. For whatever reason, I felt some pride in that. Even after he exploded in my mouth, I could see myself as one of those old pagan myths, like a succubus, or something, and not just like the cum-hole that Dimitri and most other furs would see me as.

I could barely finish swallowing and licking my lips before we were back at it again. And again after that. And once more before he pushed me away so he could get in a nap before lunch. By then, I wasn't so happy in my improved blow job skills. I guess that was the asshole universe balancing out my good mood. Fucking universe.

***

We lined up in front of our cell for the before lunch headcount. I was hopping from foot to foot with all the pent up energy I had. I was out! Of the cell, that is. And that was a start. I could feel it, things were going to get better.

My eyes were wide and my senses were overloaded. I'd gotten used to the stale air and close smells of the cell.

Dimitri smacked my arm and growled at me, "calm the hell down. They'll think you've got drugs."

I wasn't sure what the COs might do if the thought I was high, but I'm pretty sure it would entail a deep cavity search. As much as I was able too, I tried to tone down the giddiness.

A guard blew a whistle and the inmates started to file out. In a more or less orderly walk down a wide hall, I tried to take in glances of my surroundings. Dimitri warned me not to make eye contact with any of the other furs or scalies until I knew who might go psycho. If my limited reference pool of Dimitri and the guard, Blake, were any indication, most of my eye contact would need to be made in a mirror.

I passed through a set of big double doors into the cavernous cafeteria. Later I found out the lunch times were staggered by where you were housed, but there had to be at least a thousand furs eating, getting food, or just relaxing at tables. It concerned me that I could only spot a handful of guards.

It was loud. Like an indoor concert waiting to begin. I made sure not to lose sight of that swaying tiger tail as Dimitri cleared a path to the food line. The line moved surprisingly quick. Probably because the pleasantries and chatter you'd find in a restaurant were absent.

I had to hurry to keep up with Dimitri, but I said yes to any food that was offered. I'd look to see what it was once I sat down. It might surprise you, but after living off of table scraps and cum for the past few days, I've worked up a healthy appetite.

I turned around and got a flashback of high school. Before I could take that stroll down memory lane, Dimitri was motioning me to follow him between the long tables. The place was packed but I saw a couple of open seats. I pointed them out. Dimitri shook his head. We ended up sitting near the door we came in.

"Look around you," the tiger said. I was sitting right next to him, but he still had to raise his voice for me to hear it over the din.

He pointed towards the back. "If you weren't with me, you'd sit there. It's where the canines sit."

"Why?" I asked, stupidly.

"It's just how things are. Now pay attention. By the doors here, are the felines. Over against the wall are the rodents. Opposite wall, anything with scales or feathers. The others and smaller groups get what's left."

Without ceremony, Dimitri began eating. I followed his example and dug into my first real meal since I arrived. Hunger can make anything delicious.

While I ate, I contemplated what Dimitri pointed out. Even my lawyer hinted that things were a little... tribal in here. I had no idea how segregated it really was. As a rather liberal fox, this arrangement was abhorrent.

A thought occurred to me. "How come I can sit here?"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "They know me. They assume you're my property."

That made a sick sort of sense. And it explained the covetous looks I've noticed from the group of lions, further down the table.

I was about to ask if Dimitri was going to finish his mystery meat, to change the subject, when a black furred hand came to rest on my shoulder.

"Still alive, I see."

I knew the wolf's voice. Even though I hadn't seen him since my first night, I don't think I could ever forget it.

"Yes, sir," I spoke quietly and edged closer to Dimitri. As if one tormentor might protect me from the other.

The wolf laughed. "Are you getting soft, Dimitri?"

"Why don't you bend over and find out, Blake?"

"Ha. Ha," Blake said mirthlessly. "I might start a betting pool. See who can guess how long your little roomie lasts."

Dimitri stood, with speed you wouldn't expect from a fur his size. Blake must have jumped back a step, because his hand was now on the baton clipped to his belt. He looked tense. It all went too fast for me to react, and diffused too quick for anyone else who might have witnessed it to contribute any instigation.

"We're going to the yard. You finished with us, Blake?"

Blake subtly moved his hand away from his weapon, acting as if nothing happened. "For now."

Dimitri wasn't waiting, so I had to scramble to catch up to him as he added his tray to the stack. I took one look back. Blake was still watching us as Dimitri led us out an exit.

We shrugged on two coats handed to us from an inmate locked behind a safety screen.

My eyes were blinded by the sunlight. I shut them and breathed deep. I'm not sure if it was the illusion of pure air after being locked away, or if the air actually was cleaner this far from New Abilon. It was so nice, if I concentrated, I could almost get the same sensation I had when I'd go walking around downtown looking for canvases (blank walls).

"The set up is the same out here," Dimitri said.

I blinked, letting my eyes adjust.

"When you're not with me, keep to your own kind. Or, keep to yourself. That would be safer," he looked at me. "Don't make any enemies. Half these miserable fucks would mess with you just because you're a fox. Don't give them any more reasons."

The yard was pretty big, but ringed by those squat, lifeless buildings with the tiny windows. That took away some of the sense of openness I first felt.

While I stood there taking things in, I noticed Dimitri started walking. I followed him along the gravel path.

He turned around. "Go hang out with the other canines. See if you can see yourself living with any of them."

"Where will you be?" I hated the separation anxiety I was already starting to feel. I should be rejoicing at the thought of getting away from him.

"With my kind. I'll meet you by the door when we head back in."

I had more question, like how long were we staying out, and what if I need to use the restroom. But he was walking away before I could utter a sound.

I felt a little lost then. I shrugged deeper into my coat and tried to get orientated. Down the gravel path Dimitri was on, was a paved area with a handful of benches, free weights, and pull up bars. The only furs I could see that way were felines.

What if I wanted to work out? They'd have to let me use the equipment, right? I pushed the thought from my mind. One of my lawyer's other nuggets of advice was to not rock the boat.

Fine.

I turned around and walked in the opposite direction. In the distance, almost on the other side of the yard, I saw a collection of picnic tables. I had to focus to keep my tail from wagging at the sight of pointy ears, and prominent muzzles shared by my genetic relatives who were gathered at the tables or in small groups in the general area.

***

When got close enough to be noticed I offered a sheepish sort of half-wave. The group of wolves seated at the tables promptly ignored me. Except for a couple that flipped me off. To be honest, I've made worse first impressions.

Not knowing what else to do, I kept walking closer, albeit at a slower pace. A coyote and two wolves rose from the grass and stepped onto the gravel path, blocking my way.

"The fuck you want?" asked a wolf with a sizable portion of his ear missing.

"I, uh, saw that the canines were all over here, so..." I trailed off. There was no way for me not to come off as a speciesist if I kept speaking.

One-Ear rolled his eyes.

The coyote looked to the wolf and only spoke to me after getting a nod.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

It was refreshing not to be recognized, but I also really didn't want to go into it. "Well, it was really just an accident, and I'm appealing-"

"It's not a sex-crime, is it?" the coyote asked.

"No! Third degree murder," I said hastily. Can't let thoughts like that take root.

"Bullshit!" called the other wolf, a big guy with light brown fur.

"No, really," I insisted. "It was on TV."

The three exchanged glances.

"Just ask officer Blake," I blurted out before thinking.

"Are you a narc?" the coyote asked.

You won't believe how badly I wanted to back away, especially when Chunky gripped something in his pocket that had to be a weapon of one kind or another. But I knew if I ran then, it would make me a marked fox. "N-no. He just recognized me and," my voice cracked.

"Relax," One-Ear laughed. "We're just fuckin' with you."

I tried to laugh but I'm sure the sound that came out was something else.

"You're new here, so I'll tell you how things work," he led me onto the grass, "your species makes you part of the Pack, whether you like it or not. Don't get me wrong..." he looked at me after finding a patch of grass that looked marginally less frosted than the surrounding turf. "What was your name, again?"

"Elliot."

"Don't get me wrong, Elli, there's no reason you wouldn't want in with the Pack."

He sat down, motioning for me to do likewise, while Chunky and the coyote stood behind me. I kept my peace about his calling me "Elli."

"I'm sure you noticed how hostile this place is."

I nodded in full agreement.

"The Pack watches out for its own. Just like it was in the old days, eh?" he said with a wide smile.

I had the urge to correct him, that my fox ancestors were not normally of the pack-mentality, but if he was offering to protect me from the likes of Dimitri, I'd be perfectly content to not show off my year and a half of college education. I nodded.

He went on at some length, telling me how the Pack would make my stay in this hellhole more bearable. How they could offer perks that the other inmates, not fortunate enough to have been born canine, lacked. How a short short stretch of time, like my sentence, would feel more like a third-rate vacation.

Part of me knew right away that his pitch was full of crap, but I wanted more than anything to believe him. "Can you get me a new cellmate?" I asked.

One-Ear laughed. "Of course. Who're you with now?"

I told them. They found it quite amusing.

"Yeah, we can fix that," he pointed towards the picnic tables, "our Alphas are seriously connected." He saw the look of relief I must have had plastered on my face. "I suppose I should bring up what's expected of you.

"There's really only three rules the Pack has. Any issues between Pack members stays within the Pack. No involving the guards. Not even your pal, Blake, I don't care if that asshole thinks he's a wolf, we don't get them involved."

"He's not-" I tried to interject.

"If shit ever goes down, like a riot or something, there's no sitting on the sidelines. Say those featherhead-lizards over on the hill start throwing punches, you," he let that word hang for awhile, like I might have forgotten he was speaking to me, "better be in there trying to kill those scaly bitches."

Now was not the time to bring up my pacifist beliefs... The drano-bomb was a political statement, meant to incite a change in thought, not hurt anyone. So, don't think I'm being hypocritical... or a pussy who doesn't want his ass kicked.

"And, all Pack members need to contribute the the greater good."

"Oh, you mean like charity? I'm into that. Maybe I could teach an art class," I offered. That sort of stuff would look really good when I appeal my case, or failing that, when I'm up for parole. Unfortunately One-Ear's look of perplexed bemusement pretty much killed that hope.

"Uhm, we we're thinking more along the lines of contributing..." he snapped his fingers.

"Fiscally," the coyote chimed in.

"Right, that's the word," the wolf smiled.

Of course. "Oh... I don't really have any," I let that trail off, my head slumped down. I felt like I was getting emotional whiplash.

"That's ok," One-Ear tried reassuring me. "Money is just the preferred path. I'm sure you could provide some, ah, service to the Pack."

I looked up to see him staring at me. My body shuddered involuntarily.

"A wispy thing like you could pull in a lot of business. There's a rhino who pays extra for new meat."

That was all I could take. Fuck this. I stood up to walk away, only to find Chunky an arm's length away. Where the hell was a prison guard? I've been in libraries with better security!

"Look, guys," I said. "I appreciate the offer, but there's no way I can-"

One-Ear and the coyote exchanged looks, prompting the coyote to get up.

"Back off," he said to Chunky. The big wolf took a step back. "C'mon, Elliot, let's go talk," he held out his hand.

The coyote was only the same size as me, I doubt there was anything he could do to protect me from either of the wolves, but I grabbed hold like he was offering me a lifeline out of shark infested waters, and let him save me.

He pulled me along a good distance, putting the grouping of picnic tables between me and his two companions. "Are you alright," he asked. "I can feel your heart beating."

I realized I was still clutching his hand. We sat together on the cold grass. He let me sit in silence while I got my nerves back together. "Thank you," I said.

He shrugged it off. "I know this how bad this place can get, I'm sure you know too."

"Yeah."

"You're not an idiot either. Idiots aren't into art."

Finally, an inmate that gets me.

He went on, "I'm not going to lie, Vince planned this out. He and Greg scare the shit out out of you, then I come in and play good cop." He spit in disgust. "Unfortunately, they weren't just making all that up. They're not that smart.

"If you don't want your ass kicked every day, you do have to pay protection to the Pack. Or let them use you as a drug-mule, or whore you out."

The coyote looked away from me. I couldn't tell if it was from guilt or shame, but it felt genuine.

"Vince want's me to make a deal with you. He'll cover your weekly tithe if you work for him. As much as I hate to say it, his offer is good. You still have to turn tricks, but he'll make sure no one gets too rough with you."

"Why can't I just stay in my cell, and everyone just leave me alone?"

He didn't need to say anything. We both knew how naive that sounded. The world doesn't work that way. "What if I talked to the Alphas? Maybe they could-"

The coyote shook his head. "They might act noble, but they're just in it for the money."

"Couldn't I tell them about what they're trying to do to me? Isn't that an affront to their power?"

He shook his head again. "They don't care as long as they get their cut. And the 'Pack' is more of a 'Packs.' Dozens of wannabe alphas, extorting us and each other."

I put my head in my hands. The coyote let me process the information for as long as I needed. I'm not sure how long we sat there but I eventually asked him the most important question. "Can they really get me different cellmate? Officer Blake doesn't seem to like me, and he put me in with that lunatic, deliberately. He wouldn't just let me move."

"Yeah. It's true, some of the Alphas are well connected. Vince can get that done... if you work for him," the coyote shrugged almost apologetically.

Things were looking grim.