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13.

Monday morning. I was getting used to the routine. Wake up, remember I'm in hell, stroke Dimitri's ego, and wait for the days unpleasant surprises to start. Today's parade of unpleasant surprises started at breakfast. I sat there with a tray of leftover chicken nuggets that must have reached its use-by date last week.

"If you don't eat those, take them with you when we leave," Dimitri ordered. I saw he was having no problem with the breakfast.

"Yes, sir," I said. I looked at the nuggets again. "Why?"

The tiger looked up. "Notice who's not here? Jake."

I turned around. Sure enough, the red fox must have been cowering in his cell after getting rejected by Piter. "Oh," I mumbled sympathetically. I'd been there before. It was a miracle I wasn't still hiding in my corner... I turned back around with a new appreciation for Dimitri.

"What?"

He must have noticed my stupid grin. I shrugged. "Thanks."

"For what?"

He genuinely didn't know. "Everything, I guess. For taking care of me. You're a lot more caring than you let on."

Dimitri gave a sharp laugh and shook his head. "Shut up, pet."

"Yes, sir," I said with a smile. He might be an asshole most of the time, but when he wasn't, he was kind of nice... In comparison to most of the other furs I've had the displeasure of dealing with in here, anyways.

***

On the way back to my cell I popped into Jake's cell. He was curled up under his blanket. I felt a spark of childish envy that he could sleep on a bunk, while I was still kept on the floor. But the weight of chicken nuggets bundled in a napkin that I was holding reminded me that this was no time to be petty.

"Jake?" I said as non threateningly as I could. The lump under the blanket still started quivering. "I, uh, me and Dimitri brought you some breakfast." The blankets pulled tighter. I looked around for any sign of his cellmate, but the possum was nowhere in sight. "I'll just leave it on your table."

I stepped in and immediately jumped back at the sound of Jake's whimpering. "Sorry! Sorry, Jake. I'll just leave your food here," I motioned at the corner, realising he couldn't see me from under the blanket. "It's in a napkin so... I'll see you later?" I backed away. The guilt over what he'd been through weighed heavily on my conscience. If only I'd kept my mouth shut about what Piter did to me, or tried harder to focus Dimitri's wrath onto someone who really deserved it.

Dimitri was on his bunk, looking at the earbuds running from his TV. He must have been imagining what the premium headphones would sound like when Vince delivered them. Lost in thought, he wouldn't be asking me to suck him off anytime soon. This left me with the dreaded abundance of time and nothing to do.

I sat in my corner, quietly drumming on my cardboard box when I remember the pen. And with the enthusiasm of a drowning fur finding a life preserver, I delved into the first act of creativity I'd engaged in in months. I became one with the ink and the paper.

So satisfying.

***

Dimitri walked next to me on our way to lunch.

"Sir," I said, "Jake didn't leave his cell again."

Dimitri grunted. "I told Vince this wouldn't work. I'm not going to keep bringing him food and he's not going to be sitting with the canines any time soon. Too many of those dogs see him as fair game." Piter held a lot of sway in this wing of the prison I was finding out.

"Could he sit with us, sir?"

"No," he answered simply.

I could think of myriad reasons why Dimitri wouldn't allow it, so I let it drop for now. But I wasn't going to abandon my fellow fox so easily.

In line for the food a Pack messenger approached Dimitri again. I sighed, already knowing what it must be. Dimitri passed it to me without opening it. "Read," he commanded.

It was Vince's unique handwriting. "Panda, Herb. Wants BJ from Ellie." I paused. Did Vince know how much it annoyed me when he called me Ellie, or was he blessed with the memory of a sponge? "Watch for him at lunch, if cool with you. Also, Hare, Kalvin. Wants full hour with Jake. Later in Cellblock-H," I finished and handed the note back to Dimitri.

"Ellie," Dimitri laughed.

Not funny, I wanted to say.

"No, to Jake's job. That bitch couldn't deal with it right now. You can decide if you want to fuck the panda."

My tail wagged at the prospect of making another decision for myself. I wanted to show Dimitri I appreciated it and said the first thing that came to mind. "I can take Jake's job for him, if you want me to, sir."

"Good boy," he turned around and ruffled my hair. Demeaning as it was, I smiled at his praise. I looked around the cafeteria and tried to spot the panda. You'd think it would be easy, given the scarcity of that species, but the place was so packed I couldn't find him. I kept looking over my shoulder while I ate in companionable silence with Dimitri.

Despite my vigilance, Herb, the panda still managed to sneak up on me. I jumped as he addressed Dimitri, "Hello. Dimitri, I presume?" He stuck his hand out.

Dimitri ignored the gesture. "You the fur that's paying for sex?"

The panda laughed awkwardly. "Uh, I guess you could say that." He looked uncomfortable under Dimitri's scrutiny. "Is, is that the fox you're selling?"

Dimitri's eyes narrowed.

"Vince said, I should talk to you about-"

"Fuck what Vince said. If your fat ass wants a blow job, talk to my pet." Dimitri looked at me. "Think you can find his dick?"

I didn't think that was a fair insult. Pandas were genetically predisposed to slow metabolisms. But, yeah, Herb was a big fur.

"Wait one minute," Herb huffed indignantly. "I paid Vince in advance. If you're thinking of ripping me off..."

Holy shit, I swore under my breath. This dumb panda was going to get himself killed. Worse than that, it would get Dimitri locked in solitary for another half a year when the guards found him holding the fat panda's cholesterol clogged heart. "It's alright," I announced to both of them, jumping to my feet. "I'll just take care of this, sir. No need to ruin your lunch over me. I'll go."

Dimitri silently seethed for a moment before saying to me, "If he gets rough, tell him what I did to the last fur that went too far with you."

The panda didn't look impressed. He must have been new. I nodded to Dimitri, asking his leave before following Herb. It worried me that the tiger didn't make hollow threats and the panda seemed too dumb to realise it. I was going to tell Vince not to do business with Herb as soon as I got out to the Yard.

"Who the hell does that individual think he is," Herb said loud enough for me to hear over the background noise of the criteria.

"I wouldn't make him angry," I advised, rushing to keep up with the panda's surprisingly quick pace.

"Do you think I care for your opinion, slut? Just keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise."

My dislike of this asshole just deepened.

Herb took me to the same door to the kitchen that I went through with my first client. I turned around, Dimitri was watching us. I could still back out, but I didn't want to look weaker than I already was. Besides, as big as Herb was, I was positive none of it was muscle, in case things got physical.

He banged his fist on the door, turning on me while he waited impatiently. "I could buy and sell his ass as easily as yours. Do you know who I am?"

"Herb," I stated the obvious.

"Herb Olyrea. Of the Olyrea's," he said with pride.

Recognition struck. "Like the restaurant?" Olyrea's was a chain of restaurants that operated regionally. I ate at one once. Once.

"Duh," he mocked. "I'm only in here until Dad fixes that bitch judge."

The door opened, giving me a chance to roll my eyes at this entitled asshole as he brushed past one of the kitchen staff. This was the kind of jerk that got me into street art. The world needed to wake up and see how fucked the system was that allowed furs like Herb to buy his way through life. My ears flattened at the sudden thought of having to suck his dick.

So unfair.

We made our way behind the inmates scooping food onto the trays. I looked for any sign of guards, but was becoming convinced none of them cared what went on as long as they didn't have to deal with paperwork. I followed Herb, keeping my head down and my hands in my pockets, not speaking, but he wouldn't shut up, bragging about his wealth and connections.

"Do you know why I'm in here," he asked me.

I shook my head. Frankly, I didn't want to know.

"I was clubbing, had this, this floozy," he spat, "a vixen, you probably know her," his casual speciesism made my fur bristle. "I was buying top shelf absinthe. Me and my entourage were really partying." Herb paused to open the door to one of the storage rooms.

I flicked on the light after letting Herb fumble for it in the wrong place for a moment. He looked around the room with an air of disgust. "Anyways, you probably don't know anything about it, but in the business world we have this thing called an implied verbal contract. And when that girl wouldn't fulfill her end of our implied verbal contract, I had to teacher her that you don't jerk around Herb Olyrea."

He looked at me like he expected a reaction. I wanted to tell him, yeah, I'm sure you taught her you're a douche, but even if the panda was mostly lard, I was now trapped in a small room with a fur that had at least a hundred pounds on me. So, I just nodded.

"I beat the hell out of her," he gloated. "She had a broken eye socket, missing teeth. She won't be so rude next time," he said with a guffaw. "That's what your pimp needs to learn. When you buy something, it's a contract. Maybe you should tell him how seriously I take that, and that I'm not one to be punked, if thinks he can get tough with me."

Don't tempt me. "Yes, sir," I said through gritted teeth.

"Hah! See, that's the kind of respect I should be getting. Bitches in here do not realize who they're dealing with."

I rolled my eyes again. Don't flatter yourself, it's just a habit.

Herb clapped his hands, "ok, slut, get to work."

"My name is Regal." I was close to walking out. This wasn't worth it.

Herb laughed again. "Whatever. Bow down, and wake the snake."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was ridiculous, but I got on my knees. Just suck him off and you'll never have to see him again, I told myself. And to think, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I unfastened his pants, pulling them down, holding my breath against the musky smell that had been trapped in there.

"That's right, slut. Tell me you want this," Herb bucked his hips, slapping his small pecker against my muzzle.

"You paid for a blow job, not foreplay," I hissed. Had this been any other fur, I wouldn't have any problem giving them a show, but this fucker?

"'Foreplay?' I'll show you foreplay." Herb grabbed hold of my ear with all his strength, pressing my face to his groin, stroking himself with the other hand.

I yelped, unable to free my ear.

"I have... a verbal... contract," he panted between strokes.

"Let go!" I shouted and grabbed at the hand clutching my ear in a deathgrip. The struggle brought life to his flaccid cock. I pulled at his fingers, scratching my ear in the process. My nose felt the damp of his crotch. I cringed, wondering it it was Herb's sweat or precum.

All my struggles only got him off balance. His shifting, jacking mass remained in control. Desperation set in and my jaws flew open like a set beartrap. Before I could orally neuter the douche bag, the storage room door kicked open. Herb's hand stopped squeezing my ear. I shoved him off, scuttling backwards towards my saviour. "Sir," I whined, bumping into a pair of legs.

"Regal."

I froze. That was Blake's voice, not my tiger.

Herb was standing with his cock in his hand, deciding how to react to the interruption. "What the absolute fuck? Get the hell out of here. I paid for this!"

Blake took out his baton and spun it between his fingers. "You must be that new panda. Sorry I missed your processing," he commented and took a step closer to the panda.

Herb seemed to lose his confidence suddenly. "Hey, stay back," he started pulling his pants up.

"Olyrea, right?" the jet black wolf asked, getting closer. "I'm Blake, or God. Take your pick."

I looked behind me. The door had swung shut. But if I ran, where would I go? This was a prison after all.

Blake looked at me and Herb, both of us backed into opposite corners. "Seems I interrupted something. Why don't you finish what you started, big guy?"

Herb shook his head. "Th-that fox attacked me! I want to press charges!"

Blake nodded, getting within inches of the panda and looking at me like he was about to speak before jamming his baton into Herb's soft gut. The panda went down like a sack of crap. "Regal, get away from the door." He motioned next to the gasping, groaning Herb.

I scrambled across the store room, nearly tripping on a box of canned vegetables. There were no cameras in here. Not that I thought that would have stopped Blake from doing whatever he wanted. I kept my mouth shut, determined not to give him any cause to hit me.

"Sit up," he commanded Herb. The panda struggled to right himself. His breathing was ragged as Blake adjusted his head with the end of his baton. "Which guards did you pay for the use of this suite?"

Herb rattled off names, not just the guards, everyone, including me and Vince. Blake repeated the names of the guards, not bothering with the inmates. Herb gave no indication of shame at violating the unspoken rule of noncooperation.

Blake seemed satisfied and spun his club again. "Why don't' you finish what you started." It was more of an order than an invitation this time.

Herb shook his head.

Blake's grip tightened on the baton. "Stand up."

Herb stood with a grunt, still holding his stomach.

"Regal. As you were." Defeated, I sank back to my knees. "Now, fat boy, I want you to cum in his face."

"What?" Herb asked.

Yes, I thought, get him angry. I would have loved to watch Blake beat the hell out of the panda, but Herb was too much of a pussy to really resist, letting his unbuttoned pants fall again. Blake folded his arms and reveled in the power he could wield over us.

"This can't be legal," Herb whined.

"Regal, jack him off. If you're not covered in his cum in the next five minutes, I will use this baton and we'll see which one of you can take it the deepest without needing reconstructive surgery."

Herb opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get his first word out, I was fumbling to get hold of his dick. It flopped around like a dead fish. Herb was gawking in horror at Blake. I needed him to focus because I was getting nowhere in my effort to milk him. I squeeze his balls with my free hand.

Herb gasped and swatted the side of my head. "The fuck? That hurt!"

"Pleeease," I moaned. "He isn't fucking around! Cum on my face!" In the back of my mind, I added a new entry to the list of phrase I never would have thought I'd say.

"Four minutes, girls," Blake commented.

Herb looked from me to Blake and back, blushing redder than Jake's fur. He shoved me back, "get off me, you perverted slut."

I bit my lip, calculating if I could overpower the panda, or maybe beg Blake to force the fucking panda to stop resisting. I whined in frustration until Herb began handling himself. I'm sure he had a lot of practice at that.

He swore the entire time. Most of his cursing was directed at me, like I was to blame for the situation. Every time the panda's heavy breathing hitched, nearing climax, Blake would make a distracting, cutting comment to throw Herb out of it.

"I've seen both your junk, now," Blake laughed. "Guess whose is bigger."

"Fucking pervert," Herb whispered.

"Two minute warning," Blake announced.

Herb had his eyes closed, nearing a sweaty, grunting finale. I opened my mouth, hating myself for not resisting.

"Shut it, Regal. I said I want him to cum on you. Not in you."

I kept my expression neutral. Squinting at the panda so I wouldn't get hit in the eye. It would be six days before I could get a proper shower, I thought glumly. Blake probably knew that.

Herb let out a hoarse cry of triumph as the ropey strands of jizz shot across my muzzle. I choked at the warm stickiness I felt sink into my fur. I swallowed back the urge to vomit and looked at Blake. Herb was out of breath, leaning against the wall.

"Bravo," laughed Blake. "I hope you can now see how things are run around here." Blake walked closer, regarding me as I bowed my head in shame. "Rub that in," he ordered with a wave of his club.

"You proved your point, sir. Can't I wipe it off? Please," the thought of feeling it crust in my fur until I got a chance to wash it out in my cell turned my stomach. The wolf stalked closer. I put my arm up, expecting to get slammed with his baton. Blake stood in front of me and with that same element of surprise he hit Herb with, I was suddenly on my back, clutching the shoulder he'd just kicked.

"Stay down," he shouted. Herb backed away, looking like he was about to run for it. "Fat boy! I want you to rub your mess into that son of bitch's face. Now," he growled, sending the panda into action.

"Wait!" I protested as that clumsy bastard, Herb, straddled my chest and mashed his paw into my hair. Blake was laughing his ass off while I was spitting out some of the spunk that made its way into my mouth. "Get off!" I yelled.

Herb began to rise before Blake raised his hand. "Stay seated. We need to have a little chat."

The panda eased back, his ass making it hard to breath. "Get off," I wheezed again.

Blake spoke to the panda, content to let me slowly asphyxiate. "You made a potentially dangerous move, spilling those names like you did. Not that I don't appreciate it." Blake crouched down to look Herb in the eye. "And I will reward your risk, but first, I'm writing you up for insubordination and giving you a week in solitary. It's the only way to make it look like you didn't talk."

"W-what kind of a reward?" Herb asked after thinking it over.

"I guess we'll need to work that out, but believe me, working on the side of justice is so much more rewarding than taking the path this fox is on," Blake said casually.

My lungs were on fire. I slapped at Herbs thighs, struggling to force air into my chest. Blake's laugh was becoming a hollow echo.

"Ok. Get off the bitch. Unless you_want_ to kill him?" he asked hopefully. Herb didn't pick up on that wistful note in the wolf's voice, thank God.

The second Herb was off me, I rolled onto my stomach, taking in painful breaths while the two assholes discussed Herb's new career as a prison snitch. As I caught my breath, I noticed they were now talking about me.

"What do mean, he's not getting sent to solitary? That is completely unfair," Herb said.

I snorted derisively at him even having a concept of what fair was.

"If I don't send him to solitary, and I make a move on some of those names you gave me, who do you think will look like the snitch?"

"Oh," Herb said, satisfied by the reasoning. "You'll make sure the slut gets what's coming to him, though?"

"Absolutely," Blake said, giving me a smirk.

I groaned and got off the floor. "Don't," I coughed, "don't do this to me. Please, Blake- sir. Please."

"As tempting as it is, to speed up your impending death, I think I might let you suffer for a while longer. Besides, I want to be there when you die. It wouldn't be as fun if you just checked out with a shiv in your eye. I want you to know what's happening when it comes."

Even Herb found that a bit much. His smug mask of doucheness slipped for just a second, but long enough for me to catch.

Blake took out his radio, calling for an escort to take Herb to a holding cell while his paperwork was drawn up. "Don't look so sad. This'll give you street cred," Blake chuckled at Herb as guards came to haul him away.

"Regal," he cooed.

I pressed myself against the wall, wishing I would melt into it.

"Anyways, the reason I followed you was that your lawyer is here."

My jaw dropped. "What!"

"Yeah. Apparently, he left a message for you last thursday saying he needed to reschedule for today, but it must have gotten lost."

I wanted to punch that goddamn smile off his face. "You, you," I had no words strong enough to convey the hatred I was burning with. He knew the whole time. That was why he made it point to suggest I'd been abandoned. That was why he made that fatass panda rub his cum over my face.

"I know, I'm so generous, letting you see him even after this. I suppose I will have to write you up, though. That's two since you got here. I can't imagine that will look good on your record."

***

I waited for an eternally half hour in a small room with just a desk and chairs. My hands were cuffed behind me and my ears twitched at every sound that approached the door. My lawyer was here, I kept telling myself. It was the only sliver of hope holding back the flood of tears threatening to burst their dam. I refused to cry in front of Blake or any of the guards, but every time my sore ear moved, or I let my thoughts drift outside the immediate present, I had to fight for control over my emotions.

I laid my head on the cool desk and shut my eyes, squeezing them tight at the sting of a question my mind wouldn't stop asking: why me?

A voice! The voice of my lawyer. Douglas Sharpe, a canine of indeterminate lineage, with floppy ears and an optimistic outlook. I yelped at the pain from my ear as it zeroed in on the door. It didn't matter. He was here. It wasn't a cruel trick Blake was playing on me.

The door opened and a guard walked in, stepping aside. And there he was. He seemed to be finishing a conversation with someone in the hall, but when his gaze fell on me it stopped. "Holy hell," he muttered in a weird mix of disbelief, recognition and aversion. "Get those cuffs off my client," he demanded.

The guard pulled my arms back, unlocking the cuffs.

"What the hell happened?" Sharpe asked. I rubbed my wrists and looked at the guard. Sharpe took the hint and insisted he would be safe alone with me.

"I... don't want to talk about it. Please tell me you can get me out." My eyes welled with tears.

Sharpe ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair. "I'm working on it. I need a few more days to put in the appeal. I'm going over the records to find anything that could be considered a constitutional violation, just in case we need to take it to the next level."

I lowered my head. He hasn't even started the appeal. I know it was a lot to ask of a state provided defender, but I couldn't last much longer, given the way things were going.

"I know, it's going to take some time, but I think we have a strong chance to at least getting your sentence reduced. Maybe even to something better than that plea deal I advised you to take, and," he stopped talking long enough for me to lift my head to see what was wrong. "Seriously, Elliot, what happened? You look horrible," he said as kindly as he could.

"I really don't want to talk about it." I didn't think I could talk about it.

"You need to tell the guards." I winced at that suggestion and he understood. "It was one of the guards?"

I nodded. "Not just the guard. Some inmates too."

Sharpe brushed at his hair again. "Fuck. Elliot, I told you to keep your head down and not to cause any trouble. They tell me you already have two write ups." My ears flattened at his admonishment. He sighed. "You need to get that documented," he motioned at his ear. "Tell me the guard you want to avoid. I'll get someone else to take you to the infirmary."

"No!" I sunk lower in the seat. "You can't! Someone will find out!"

"Ok, ok," he made a calming gesture and looked at the door. "Don't yell. I was just trying to help." He thought for a moment. "I've got it," he took out his phone. "Here, let me at least take a picture of your ear, and your nose, it looks kind of bruised. I'm not sure it will stand up in court, but maybe we could make a case that you're not safe in here."

Sharpe took a few pictures while I held back a smile. Why couldn't he have been this clever in front of the judge?

"There," he said, reviewing the pics. "Do you have any other marks?"

"Yeah," I looked at my shirt.

"Oh." Sharpe looked at the door. "Um, let's do this quick. I don't have to tell you how this could look," he laughed. "If you're ok with it, that is."

I pulled off my shirt. Sharpe sucked in a breath at the dark discolorations still visible under the fur on my chest, stomach and arms. Gifts from Piter and his pack, and Dimitri. Some faded, some still shades of purple. We spent a couple of minutes, Shape nervously glancing between his phone and the door, and me holding a pen for scale and parting my fur in places so he could take better pictures.

"Well, Elliot, I really think you should report this, but I understand why you won't. Here," he snapped open his briefcase while I tucked in my shirt. "I've got some stuff for you to sign."