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Today was the best day of Tony's job.

Doctor Tisdale would run the clinic, which meant no patients, no appointments, nothing for Tony to do but to welcome four new lives into the world, check that each was safe and healthy, and celebrate their very first day of life.

He checked his watch. He was running a bit late, but doubted they would mind: each meta born had a blissful smile on their face he envied; he hated to wake them from whatever thoughts made them smile so. All the same, the first meta had likely woken up by now. What was his name? Tony checked the clipboard with him: "Cody," that was it. Cody, then Cody's brother, Michael, then Misha and Miranda - twins, he recalled, rare metas who were allowed to share the same immediate parents.

Thump. Thump.

Tony's feet paused and his head lifted. He couldn't quite place the noise: dull and pulsing like a heart-beat. He checked the ceiling, at the mess of exposed pipes and wires that ran like an infinite spiderweb through the bowels of the facility. He didn't know anything there that would make such a noise, but he was no mechanic. Besides, the noise didn't seem to come from the ceiling. It seemed to come from farther along the hallway. Through a wall. Inside the birthing room.

Tony ran on instinct. He burst through the door and saw that the room was empty of any other humans - where was the blasted night watch? To his right was a row of large tubes of plastic and metal. In three of them, sleeping metas hung suspended in bluish fluid, slumbering peacefully. The fourth was awake, a jet black fox with eyes bulging from his skull, fists pounding at walls of his container, the liquid so thick it turned his furious punches into tiny taps.

"Don't worry!" Tony shouted, "I'll get you out." He spun to the controls. Could he evacuate the chambers suddenly? There wasn't enough pressure to cause decompression sickness, but barotrauma, maybe. Their lungs were thankfully sealed off from the fluid, but they might suffer temporary hearing problems. Worth the risk.

He tapped an intercom and shouted into it as he started the draining procedures. "Emergency in Birthing Room 04. I repeat, emergency in Birthing Room 04. I need technicians and a medical team now. This is Doctor Anthony Walden. There is an emergency in Birthing Room 04."

Tony heard the intercom crackle to life, a perfunctory acknowledgment sent, but he didn't stay to listen. He ran back across the room to the black fox's chamber. It was Cody: the first awake. As the fluids sucked away, his claws scratched over the inner surface of the tube. It took less than ten seconds and then the plastic slid to the side, allowing the fox to fall into Tony's arms, his body wrapped in wires and mechanics, breathing tubes, feeding mechanisms, waste removal systems, all of which Tony removed as quickly and carefully as he could. Cody gasped, choked on the sudden flow of fresh air, unable to relax. His body shook violently in the doctor's arms.

Tony tried to lift him up, to look over him, but the fox's arms clung tight to him like a frightened child. He couldn't see anything wrong with the fox, no apparent visual injuries (although he knew their fur could disguise a great deal). Mental trauma? That was far more likely. But how was that possible?

Tony heard the other tubes opening with a soft slicking sound of the still wet plastic sliding against metal. Moans came from the three other metas. He saw Misha and Miranda clutching at their long canine ears, whimpering into the breathing apparatus. Michael was tearing his off, kicking everything away. As soon as the last of the tube's mechanics was off him and he was free, he ran. Tony thought it was to get outside as soon as possible. He didn't notice that the angle was off until it was too late to stop him.

He spun around, Cody's head in his lap, as they both watched the other fox.

Michael ran full tilt, not towards the door, but towards the sharp concrete corner of the doorjamb. "No!" Tony found himself shouting. The fox's head went down just before he connected with the corner. A sickening crack filled the room, and the fox's body collapsed. Tony knew even before the fox hit the floor that he was dead.

One of the other metas started screaming. The technicians arrived: one fainted as soon as he saw the fox's dead body; the other was stunned, unable to move. And in Tony's arms, the newborn fox meta was thrashing, trying to be free, eyes locked on the other corner of the door, wanting to join his brother in death.

* * *

"I want a report, Dr. Walden."

Tony sighed. None of the big-wigs would ever show their face to him. It was always an impersonal intercom: voice only, always a gruff tone, as if the work you did was never quite good enough. "I can't give you much in the way of hard data. I only have my guesses."

"Start with what hard data you have."

"The second brother, Michael." Tony looked down at a piece of paper in front of him; it was to be Michael's data-sheet. There was no picture. He hadn't lived long enough for that. "Autopsy reveals a few torn muscle fibers in his legs. It appears he was pushing his body to its limits for those few moments. Upon impact, his skull split and a piece of bone was forced straight through his brain." He sighed and added, "Death was instantaneous."

"And the first brother?"

"Cody, yes." He looked at that sheet now, and then up from it, through the glass observation window to where Cody himself lay, naked under a single sheet, strapped to a bed. "Physically, he's in perfect health; however, when I tried to release one of his hands the other day, the first thing he tried to do was grab at his IV line and plunge the needle into his heart."

The line was silent a moment. He thought at first the man on the other end was praying, but he had long since given up hope for any kind of compassion from the Hotel's accountants and managers. "Any idea why?"

Tony sat up in his chair, straightening his back. "Cody has been mumbling a lot. He keeps saying, 'He doesn't want me.'"

"'He?'"

"I would guess he's referring to Dante." Dante was Cody and Michael's father, and also the only meta Tony ever knew who tried to escape the imposed deadline for death. All the other metas accepted the three-year lifespan; they even spoke with genuine confusion when humans expressed pity or remorse. Dante had tried to keep living, to sneak away from his life as a slave and live free for his remaining years. He was caught, however, before he had even made it across the street.

"Dante's dead. How could he possibly have done this?"

"Sir, all metas are born with the memories of their parents, which means knowing the parents' unconditional love for them from the moment they are born. Dante, though - he was not a normal meta."

"He wouldn't have hated his kids though, would he?"

"I don't see any reason why not. They took the spot he left in the world. He probably went to his death with seething hate towards them both. If they woke feeling that..." His eyes fell on Michael's report again, looking at the x-ray of a piece of his skull lodged straight down into the frontal lobe. He couldn't blame the fox for wanting to end it all so quickly.

"Doctor, do what you can for him. We want him at work as soon as possible." The intercom clicked, the call ended.

"Fucking bean counter," he said suddenly, causing the other people in the room to jump. Cody, on the other side of the sound-proof window, heard nothing. Tony's assistant, Laura, came up behind him, patted his shoulders gently. "Don't bother me with the extent of his injuries, just tell me how soon you can get him fucking and making us money again. Bastards, all of them."

He touched Laura's hand and gave her a forced smile, though he felt no happiness at all; she smiled more honestly in return and went back to her duties. Tony allowed himself a small yawn and stood with a stretch.

He was glad there were only a few others, techs and nurses mainly, present with them on the second floor of the clinic. The first floor consisted of a much larger area with examination rooms and a pair of rarely used emergency rooms. If he'd been stupid enough to curse his employers down there, at least a dozen others might have heard him, and they would not necessarily be fellow medical professionals who agreed with him.

He took a sip of the coffee Laura had brought him earlier, rubbed his temples to clean out the cobwebs caused by lack of sleep, then stepped through the door into the observation area. He took a seat next to Cody's bed, keeping all his motions slow and silent. Outside of an ear twitching, the fox gave no indication he had even heard Tony enter.

Tony sighed. Any other day, in any other situation, the sight of the black fox bound tightly to a bed would have been exciting. Cody had inherited the best of Dante's lithe good looks, a small frame that nonetheless exuded poise, toned, tight muscles with just the right amount of feminine curve and sway. Cody wasn't really a black fox; he was a red fox with a silver phase coloring, flecks of silvery white fur touched the rim of his face and ran down his back to a sudden patch of pure white at the tip of his tail. Despite whatever damage Dante did to Cody mentally, he and Cody's other father had given him intensely handsome good looks. Any other day, in any other situation...

Tony sighed again.

"Will you let me go away now?" Cody asked.

Tony looked up. Cody had asked to "Go away" not "Die." Death for metas was ephemeral, even a happy occasion, as it meant soon their children would be born. To "Go away" meant to die without their memories being copied and passed on: a terrible fate for any meta. "No, I won't."

The fox whimpered and kept screwing his face away from the man at his side, as if trying to hide in the pillows. Tony, out of the corner of his eye, spied a slowly growing tent in the sheets near the fox's hips. He gave a grim smile and said, "I suppose we haven't been taking care of your needs as well as we ought to."

He looked back up to the fox, and saw something odd in his composure: his ears were bent back, trying, but failing, to hide the whiter insides, which now showed a wild red of blush. The tip of his muzzle was parted, revealing the sharp teeth inside and the tip of his tongue pushing against them. Tony looked back down and saw the tent in the sheet had grown.

Tony's heart leapt into his throat. With a trembling hand, he reached out and grasped one of the fox's nipples, tweaking it hard. The fox yipped in pain, and Tony watched in horror as the tent grew larger still.

* * *

"Virgil! Get up!"

Tony entered the cafeteria like a storm, the wrath of the heavens following in his wake. All the sound died in an instant, all the smiles faded. Virgil, a handsome red fox, was midway through telling a joke at a table on the far end of the room. At the sound of his name, he stood immediately, while the metas surrounding him shied away, fearful of being hurt as the storm moved closer to the fox.

Tony didn't break stride; he walked straight up to the fox and smashed his hand against the fox's jaw. It was a doctor's punch: weak, but precise. It sent the fox sprawling to his knees, his jaw sitting at an odd angle, dislocated.

"Back up!" he spat.

Slowly the fox stood once more. His eyes had a distant look to them, as if focusing on some point just beyond Tony, right through him.

Tony felt a hand on his shoulder, a meek voice quavering, "Please, sir, Virgil didn't do any..."

He batted away the hand without looking to see who had put it there. "Next interruption earns whoever is responsible ten lashes." The hand and whoever owned it cringed away in fear. Tony focused his attention back on the red fox in front of him. "How many hours left, now, Virgil?"

The fox's voice was as distant as his eyes. "Twenty-seven, sir." Twenty-seven hours left to live.

Tony tugged his phone out of his pocket, waved it in front of the fox's face. "I have the events coordinator on speed-dial, and right now, Virgil, right now I am very tempted to tell him that in twenty-four hours, you will be performing under the whip of the tamers. And I think I want to tell him in addition, anyone who buys a ticket will be treated to a free ten blows at your ass with the instrument of their choice. I'm no expert on these things, but I think with an offer like that, even with only twenty-four hours, you'll be performing in front of a packed house."

The room was deathly silent. No one wanted even to twitch a whisker lest it attract Tony's wrath. The only thing that could be heard was Virgil quietly whimpering, "Please, please, no, sir."

"Then you will tell me what I want to know, you will speak honestly, and I had better DAMN well like every thing I hear, or so help me I'll warm you up with fifty lashes before the show even begins."

The fox could only manage to whisper, "Yes, sir."

"Now, you knew of Dante's plan to escape."

"Yes, sir."

"You knew of it even before he attempted it?"

"Yes, sir."

"And yet you told no one. Why?"

"He was my brother, sir. He was stupid and scared, but he was my brother. I hoped he succeeded, found whatever it was he'd been searching for."

"But he didn't. He was caught. Did you turn him in?"

"No, sir."

"Did you discuss any other plans with him?"

"Sir?"

"Plans for his kids?"

He could see the fox's body stiffen, heard the collective intake of breath around the room. What had happened to Cody and Michael was already gossip amongst the slaves.

"We discussed... ideas, sir."

"What kind of ideas?"

"Species... looks... the usual options, sir."

"He expressed the desire that both his sons be gay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Effeminate?"

"Yes, sir."

"That they should share his and your taste for pain?"

"Yes, sir."

"How much?"

"I... don't know, sir."

"What about humiliation? Did Dante talk about making him like that too?"

Virgil's body was starting to shake. His voice was so low, Tony could only just make it out, "No, sir."

"Because he does, you know." Tony pressed in close to Virgil, felt the fox's body quaking in fear under him. "He's not just turned on by it; he's very turned on. Give him a caning and some leering gazes and I bet he'd climax on the spot. Do you know what that makes him?"

Virgil hesitated. Tony waved the phone in front of his eyes, shouting, "Do you?"

"H-He's a rape fantasy, sir. The worst life a meta can have."

Tony wanted to grill Virgil still. He wanted to press him on every detail until he knew, with absolute certainty, that Virgil had no idea of Dante's plans for his sons. He wanted to hit him again regardless, because Dante was no longer here to hit. But he took one look at his face and knew that Virgil was innocent. The fox's eyes were screwed up to the ceiling, his mouth forming the words of a silent plea: "Please, don't let it be true."

For the first time since he had entered the cafeteria, Tony looked around. Trays of forgotten food littered the tables, growing cold from disuse. The metas cowered from him, the braver ones trying to act as shields between him and the more frightened ones. They outnumbered him fifty-to-one, but were pinned in place by the fear of the evening of agony he could unleash upon any of them.

Tony dropped his phone as if it had become a snake, ready to strike him. What sort of monster had he become?

"Virgil, come back to the clinic. I'll need to set your jaw. Someone... bring my phone back to me, but not until tomorrow at least."

* * *

Tony lay awake that night. It wasn't his bed; it wasn't his room. It didn't feel right.

He had chosen to stay in one of the rooms the facility offered to staff working on longer projects. In this case, his project was Cody. The room was little more than a bed, a nightstand, a TV, a bathroom, and a closet full of the sexual accoutrements that could be found in every room of the facility. Standing felt cramped. Relaxation was completely impossible.

He heard a soft shuffle of feet outside and rolled his eyes at the room's thin walls. But then there was a knock at the door. He sat up. "Who is it?"

"Virgil," came the quiet voice.

"Come in."

The fox opened the door and stepped from the bright light of the outside hall into the dim light of the room, his fur seeming to change from red to deep maroon as he did so. His eyes disappeared into a shimmering yellow as they caught and reflected the barely present light of the room.

"Virgil... You should be at your farewell party. It's your day tomorrow."

"I couldn't stop thinking about Cody, sir." Tony remembered earlier that evening at the clinic: Virgil couldn't stop staring mournfully at his nephew. Even after his jaw had been set and healed, after the day was finished and Tony was heading to this room for some rest, Virgil stayed.

"Virgil, you have your own children you need to be thinking about now. Come here, tell me about them."

The fox took a half step closer, but resisted speaking about his children. "Sir, please, you told me today you would give me fifty lashes." He knelt down and lifted his hands high above his head. Tony could barely see the polished coil of a whip wrapped in his outstretched arms. "I want you to give them. Please. I should have known something like this would happen. He was my brother. He was my responsibility"

Tony cringed, thankful that the light made it impossible to see. "I'm not going to beat you just because I can't beat your brother any more, Virgil," he said, although he still wished otherwise. "Put it away."

The fox's arms fell, the whip tumbling out onto the floor, and he bent low to nuzzle submissively against Tony's feet.

The doctor tapped a hand to the nearby lamp to brighten the room just a little. He let Virgil continue his licking and kissing for a while to burn off his tension through submission. The fox's head and shoulders finally began to relax as he devoted himself to the work of tending to the human's feet. "Why don't you get out a paddle instead?" Tony said with a smile.

Virgil crawled to the small closet in the room, rooted around until he found a paddle and then offered it the same way he had offered the whip before: kneeling, head bowed, arms held high. Tony took it and tapped his lap with a smile. "Up."

There was a flicker of a smile across Virgil's face. He slid onto the bed and laid down across the human's lap, his tail brushing across Tony's face once as it moved to lay flat across his back. "That's it, Virgil. You remember this, don't you?" Tony smiled as he brushed the side of the paddle against Virgil's year. Tony had been Virgil's first, a mere two days after the fox had crawled out of his own tube in Birthing Room 04. They had spent a night together, exploring, a wonderfully happy night for them both. Tony intended to remind the fox of every part of that night.

Virgil jumped at the first slap of the paddle. The blow landed just under his tailbase and made the fox jump forward before settling back. Tony tapped the paddle once along the fox's red ruffled shoulder. "No squirming," he said, and the fox nodded with ears bent back.

Within three more slaps, Virgil's shaft was slipping out of his sheath. Within seven, it bounced against the fox's white belly with every slap. Tony varied the blows, making sure to cover every inch of the fox's behind, making sure never to hit the same spot twice. He wasn't an expert with the paddle the way some metas were. He could keep the blows from becoming truly painful, but that seemed enough for the fox. Virgil's paws gripped the loose sheets of the bed tightly; his teeth were clenched together, resisting a moan. "Doctor Walden, this wasn't what I wanted."

"No, it's not. But I'm giving it to you all the same." He kept up a few more blows, until he could feel the fox's shaft dripping pre-cum onto his leg. Then he tossed the paddle aside. "Kneel, slave."

Virgil knelt up on his knees beside him.

"Virgil, kneel! Or I'll get the paddle out again."

The fox whimpered and settled down into a more proper kneeling position. His whimper jumped up an octave as his well-paddled rear touched against his ankles. Tony smiled at the haze of lust that clouded the fox's yellow eyes; he quickly shirked off his own clothes, used some lube from a bottle placed discreetly on the nightstand to lube himself up, and then patted his lap. Virgil eased himself into place, his back and tail against Tony's belly, kneeling up once more and doing all that he could not to let anything touch his sensitive rear.

Tony wrapped a single arm about the fox, for a moment just relishing the warm fur against his skin. Then reached down and gave the fox's rear a squeeze. He yipped. "I want to be in you," he whispered into the fox's ears. The same words he had spoken on their first night together. Then it had been about lust; today it was about comfort.

Tony reached around the fox, hooking his hands on either side of the fox's inner thighs, feeling that heated shaft tap against the backs of his hands. He hefted Virgil up until Tony's own length was positioned right at the fox's rear. He let Virgil take some of his weight back, the gravity helping pull the fox down over him. Tony worked gently: he would have much preferred something rough and fast, as they had done their first night together, and he knew Virgil would have enjoyed it too, but it was neither the time or place for that.

As the fox slipped lower and lower, Virgil's apprehension grew, and when at last his sore rear touched the human's hips, he yipped, clenching tight and shifting upwards suddenly, making Tony moan in delight. Virgil was also moaning, and, to Tony's happiness, his moans were also moans of pleasure. He wrapped his arms around Virgil's torso, crossing over his chest and gripping his shoulders.

The two lovers stayed almost silent as they began to mate. Virgil would grunt and whimper, whenever his rear contacted anything but air, and Tony stifled his own sounds of pleasure each time Virgil's body shifted quickly. Beyond that there was only the soft sound of Tony's lubed shaft slipping in and out, the two not daring to say anything to each other in the tiny, echoing room. Each sound they did make only made them try to be quieter.

But all too soon, they were both breathing and panting hard. Tony gripped Virgil's hips and forced him down tightly against his own hips; the fox arched and lett out a high-pitched squeal, which only intensified as Tony began to jerk the fox off. The fox's muscles gripped Tony in tightly, milking him, even as his arms wrapped behind him to try and hold the quickly breathing human in against his back. Tony tilted his head back, the stimulation too much, and climaxed. He kept his focus despite the pleasure, his hands slipping quickly along the fox's shaft, and he grinned as the fox held off unsuccessfully on his own orgasm, cumming moments later, spurts of white hitting the all-too-close far wall.

Tony kept his arm around Virgil and rolled them both onto the bed, pulling the single sheet over them. He eased himself out and just rested his naked body against the fox's.

Virgil rolled slowly, gave a whimper as his weight rested a moment on his rear, and then turned to face Tony, pressing his head in against the other male's chest. "Why, sir?" he asked.

"Because you deserve a happy last day. I want your kids waking up with smiles on their faces. And most of all..." He wrapped his arm tightly about Virgil, the fox shivering in his grasp. "Because it wasn't your fault."

The fox looked over the human, his gaze piercing deeply into Tony. "It wasn't yours either."

* * *

The house stood adjacent to the main complex, set between the towers and the wild forests and hills that surrounded them. It looked splendid at first glance, a simple two-story suburban home surrounded by yews and ponderosa, with a backyard that stretched up into the foothills and the massive Douglas-fir and redwood that filled them.

At second glance, the house was out of place. The massive complex behind Tony was filled with bright lights, advertising the casinos, restaurants, spas, rooms for the night, condos for longer, porn studios, strip clubs, dance clubs, and more that made up the massive industry known as the Hotel at the End of the Road. At one point, maybe it had just been a hotel, but now it stood for something far bigger. And though, tucked away on the east side of the grounds were a number of houses, both for the rich to vacation in and certain workers to live in, this house stood on its own: no other structures nearby to keep it company.

By the third glance, it seemed so lonely. Although a pathway looped about the entire complex, he could see almost no one on the path that went in front of the house. Those metas who were on it, kept their gaze down, averted, andshuffled past as quick as they could. The windows were shuttered, the ivy untended, the garden left dead and over-grown by weeds. No one looked in, and no one looked back out.

Tony sighed and knocked twice in quick succession.

The voice that greeted him had a cheerful lilt that belied the unkemptness of the house. "Come in! It's unlocked."

Tony pushed the door open, unsure what he would see inside. But it was a simple entry-way. There was a single stairwell that lead to rooms above and to a basement below. One door was closed, and from beyond it he could hear a shower faintly. Through another door he could see into a lounge, through another, a dining room. There was little in the way of decoration. A single painting of a hunting cheetah hung next to a coat rack. Besides that, there were no portraits, no flowers, nothing at all to suggest that the home was lived in.

"I'll be out in a moment," came the voice from the direction of the shower.

Tony stepped a bit more inside and closed the door. It felt like something awful might happen if the door were to open for too long, a mingling of worlds that were never meant to touch. He stepped into the adjoining room, finding it to be more than just a dining room but also containing a decent kitchen. The table sat four, and while everything was clean and free of dust, he found the chair stuck a bit as he pulled it back to sit on, as if the chair had not been moved in a very long time.

The sound of the shower ceased. He heard the splattering sound as its occupant shook herself a bit, and then the indistinct sound of her dressing. He tried to take his mind off it by looking around the room. It was not a comforting home, he thought. What windows weren't blindered were hung with curtains so thick they stifled most of the light. A number of slow-burning candles added some warmth to the otherwise sterile lighting.

"Ah," said a sultry voice directly behind him, "you must be Doctor Walden."

Tony tried to hide his surprise and the numerous hairs that were now standing up straight on the back of his neck. He stood up and turned around, before him an auburn and gray wolfess meta dressed in curve-fitting leather: bustier, pants, and boots, all the same polished black leather with chrome buckles and buttons. "Just Tony, please. You must be Laika." He paused then, unsure how to proceed. She was a tamer, not just a slave. It ranked her above every other meta in the complex, and even above many of the human staff. She might well have out-ranked him in the eyes of the executives. Tentatively, he reached out his hand.

She gripped it and shook, far more firmly than he did. "Yes. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm afraid I haven't hear from Doctor Tisdale much since my birth." She gestured to the table. "Please, take your seat. I was about to make some coffee. Will you join me?" Her tone was polite, but not subservient; she was no slave.

He nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course." She stepped into the kitchen and Tony took his seat in amazement. He watched her boots as she moved: they seemed so thick and imposing, yet she walked with hardly a sound. She had a whip coiled and hung from a d-ring at her belt, the other side carrying a riding crop and a holstered dildo. Most of the clips and rings at her belt were empty though: she didn't need to carry all the tools of her trade with her when she was at home.

"I imagine you don't get many visitors," Tony said by way of making a small joke.

"No," she returned without a smile. "You're our first in two months."

Tony chuckled nervously, a shame suddenly eating at his thoughts. The tamers were fierce creatures. The metas were afraid even to look at their place of residence, even to walk past it. The humans did their best not to interact with them much either. Part of that was professional courtesy, but far more was their own fear of what the tamers did.

Laika worked with quick, deft movements, giving her electric grinder with two quick shakes before pouring its contents into a pouch in the coffee maker. "What brings you here, Tony?" She flashed a quick smile that was more fang than lip. "Do you need us to help keep your assistants in line?"

"No..." He paused, eyes roaming over her form once more. "I've come for advice."

Laika's ears perked, but she focused otherwise on the coffeepot in front of her.

"Do you know about Cody, Dante's son?"

He caught a slight snarl on her lips at the mention of Dante's name. "Yes, we are aware." The we, he knew, referred to the male tamer, Dominic, also a wolf like Laika. "We heard as well of what Dante had done to him, and the threat you had given Virgil. Very impressive. Not sure we would have thought of it."

He shivered. He had their... respect. That's what it sounded like. One professional to another, complimenting his ability to instill terror. "How do you know about all that?" He asked.

She flicked a hand at a screen on the wall of the dining room. It picked up her motion and buzzed to life, immediately showing a camera from somewhere else inside the house. It showed Dominic, naked save for a harness, bent over a struggling meta, thrusting into her. Dominic had a cruel smile on his face, and the girl was sobbing, punctuated with soft screams and pleas for mercy, which stopped at another flick of Laika's hand, activating the mute.

Tony watched in a detached fascination. It was, he realized, rape. It sounded so odd to say, for every night at the hotel, guests would take metas to bed, metas who had no choice to be there or not; and yet metas, by and large, liked to serve, and even those guests who liked a resistant slave preferred a good actor to someone who was truly struggling. What he watched now was completely non-consentual.

"It's amazing what they will tell us sometimes, trying to make us stop." She tapped the pot as if impatient with the percolator. "She told us all about what you said in the cafeteria."

Tony nodded, vaguely recognizing her as one of the metas seated at a nearby table, protecting other metas from Tony's gaze as he rampaged. "What did she do?"

"Nothing."

Tony gaped. "What?"

"Nothing," Laika repeated. "Sometimes it is necessary for us to reinforce the subconscious fears they hold of us. Even the most well-meaning and devoted slave must be reminded of what awaits them for disobedience: a cold and uncaring whip."

Even as Tony watched, the black wolf on screen picked up a riding crop and began smacking it hard against the female's breasts. His strokes showed none of the concern for her pleasure that Tony had given to Virgil several nights previous. The meta's body was arched painfully, her mouth open in a wail, and suddenly Tony found himself very glad that Laika had put it on mute. "Monsters," he muttered.

"Necessary monsters." Laika took out the coffeepot, pouring two mugs with the still steaming and aromatic liquid. She brought one mug to him with a small plate sporting creamer and packaged sugars. He waved it away. She took a seat beside him, sipping her own much lighter blend of coffee and creamer, watching the screen. "I would have thought knowing Dante would have made that clearer."

"Dante still tried to escape even with the threat of the whip."

"And imagine had that not been there. Would he have tried to injure a client? Hold them hostage? Kill them?" She lifted an eyebrow. "We were both somewhat disappointed that we were not allowed to punish him for his insolence, but we also understand that sending someone to their death with the pain of us so fresh in their mind would not be good for their children." Tony shivered, again reminded of the cruelty he had very nearly inflicted on Virgil.

Tony watched her hand, wearing a fingerless leather glove, massage the side of the mug, as if trying to draw a little more heat from it into her. "Do you think it might have saved Michael, had you done it?"

"That's hard to say." Her paw's massage of the mug faltered for a moment as she reflected. "Such strong pain might only have compounded his hatred."

"So, you think it was Dante's hatred for his children that led him to kill himself?" Tony leaned in a bit closer, true curiosity bubbling up to see if his hypothesis would be confirmed.

"I have little doubt. We tamers experience something similar."

"I... never heard of a tamer attempting to kill herself after being born."

She laughed, as if he had made a joke. But it was a short laugh, quickly forgotten. "No. You see, we tamers are only allowed one child each, and those children will be the next tamers. That way our own memories do not get loose into the general public. The monster becomes much less fearsome if you know how it works." A frown tugged at her lips for a moment. "Instead we have one parent who is a tamer and one who isn't, who isn't even aware that their memories are given to us.

"We're born fully aware of what we must do, why we must do it, and how greatly we are feared and hated. Outside of Cody and Michael, I suspect that we tamers are the only metas born since the inception of this facility who were born without a smile."

Tony's mouth opened and then shut again. He had wanted to say he was sorry, sorry that they had to live a life like this, but his gaze had been drawn to the screen once more, at Dominic's heartless smile as he shoved his knot in and out of the resistant meta, and he couldn't bring himself to apologize to either of them. "So... about Cody?"

"Yes?" She gave a small smile. "I apologize, we do seem to have gotten off course."

"I was wondering if you thought a visit from yourself or Dominic would - "

"No." Her coffee mug clattered to the table and she held that gloved hand sternly before Tony's nose, pointing directly between his eyes. "No, and you will put that thought out of your mind right now. Nothing could be worse for that boy than meeting either of us, and you must pray Doctor, if he lives, that he should never disobey enough to be sent to us."

"I - but, why?"

"Because of what we represent." She gestured to the screen. "Fear, terror, degradation into nothing more than an object: the exact things that arouse and excite him against his own will. We would become a drug to him, an addiction he wouldn't even know he had. She," her finger jabbed at the image of the wailing meta, "hates this, every moment of it disgusts her, terrifies her. Dominic will make her climax; he's very good at that. And the knowledge that even in the midst of her terror, his touch could make her climax, that will help cement her place as a slave. Cody will not be like that. For him, the arousal would come first, not a side-effect of an skilled dom, but the desire of his own deepest heart. It would tear him up inside.

"You could not order us to tame that fox. We would take a whip to each other before we took a whip to him."

Tony sighed. He knew it had been a long-shot to come here, still he had hoped for something more concrete. "Laika, what would you do, were you in my position?"

She touched his chin and lifted it. Her eyes, he noticed, seemed empty, dull, lonely. "I would give him what he wants. I would let him die."

"But I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to help him live!"

"No, you're supposed to make him feel better. Those are not always the same thing."

Tony grunted, refused to acknowledge that she was right, which a part of him knew she was. Death, even death as an end to pain, was a last resort, once every other possibility had been exhausted. "Thank you for the coffee," he said suddenly, standing.

"Doctor," she said, touching his hand as Tony turned to leave, "if you were in our position, what would you do with that slave?"

He looked once more at the writhing female on the screen, caught now on the cusp of an orgasm she despised herself for having. "I would let her go, treat her wounds, and send her home."

"Then perhaps, Doctor, it is good that we are not in each other's position after all." She gestured across the hall. "There's a small shower there. I would suggest using it before you leave; you don't want to smell of me when you meet with your patients."

He nodded and used the shower as quickly as he could. When he left, he saw, she was staring into her empty coffee mug, as if contemplating their conversation.

* * *

Two days later, Tony sat in the observation room, his chair drawn up next to the bed where Cody still lay, strapped into place. The light of the sun had faded away with evening, but there was still a pleasant glow from the artificial lighting on the side of the building. Tony had volunteered to stay there for the night and keep an eye on Cody.

Cody hadn't said a word. Tony wanted to feel happy for that, as a sign that Cody's suicidal desire had lessened, but somehow he knew it wasn't that so much from a newfound desire to live as the knowledge that Tony wouldn't give in. Not yet.

He looked back at the fox. Cody kept his head turned away, as he did every time.

"Before coming here," Tony said, keeping away the silence with his own voice, "I interned at a hospital. They gave us a hell of a hazing there. A lot of us thought it was the old-timers making things rough for us, but after a little while, we learned it was to build us up. There would be harder things to come, so we had to lose our fear fast and early."

Tony looked back again. The fox's ears were up, listening, but his head stayed turned away.

"First case I ever had: older brother was bipolar, just got himself dumped by his girlfriend, and decided to put a bullet through his brain. Dead, but his younger brother, who idolized him, wanted to follow suit, tried to take a razor blade to his wrists. Failed, thankfully, but lost a lot of blood.

"I was little more than an attendant nurse for him. I hated it; thought it was undignified, beneath me. He was a bright kid though, talkative. I saw what his brother's suicide had done to the family. The mother wasn't completely stable to begin with and she started to break down quickly. The father started drinking more, a lot more. And the boy wanted to know why I wanted to keep him alive, why if his life was so full of shit did he have to continue on with it."

Cody's head had turned, pale yellow eyes focused on him. "What did you say?"

"I said the only thing I could: 'If you die, I'll be sad.'"

"And was that enough?"

"For a few days it was. He was a good kid; he didn't want to see me cry. He got himself home, got back to living." He didn't tell the end of the story, the increasing domestic strife, the father's growing alcoholism, and boy's successful suicide attempt three years later. Cody didn't need to hear that.

"If I die... will you be sad?"

"Die"... not "go away." Tony hid a smile at that one tiny victory. "Yes, Cody, very much so."

The fox turned his head away again, as if in shame.

"I need something to drink. I'll just be in the other room," he gestured to the one-way window. "Call if you need anything."

Tony stood, stretched to get a crick out of his back, and walked slowly through the soundproof doors into the other room. No sooner had the door shut behind him than two voices slowly purred out, "Hello, Doctor Walden."

He turned. Seated at one of the computer terminals were a pair of todd foxes, one in the other's lap, naked. The one on top had the brilliant orange back and flashy white front of a red fox, while the other had more muted palette of colors, whites and grays and browns in a patchwork pattern over his body, a red fox still, but with a cross coloration. "Go get him, brother," said the bottom one.

Tony didn't have time to protest. The top fox pounced forward, bowling him over. The thin vulpine tongue worked over his lips while fingers teased open the buttons of his jacket, then his shirt, then his trousers, wrapping around his shaft as soon as that was free. Tony mmphed.

"Now, now," the seated fox said. "No trying to order us away. You've had a trying week and you need to get some release. Father was very insistent on this point."

Father? Tony glanced from one fox to the other and then groaned. They were Virgil's kids, Matthew and Matthias. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have been there as soon as you both were born."

The red fox above him, Matthew he thought, put a finger to his lips. "No, no, cutie. You had a job to do and you can't run around tending to us just because you took a shine to Dad."

"He gave Dad quite the shining too, I remember," Matthias laughed.

"But, what are you two doing here?"

Matthew grinned, slitted fox eyes gleaming down at him. "Get to chose our first lover, remember, cutie? You meant a lot to Dad, being his first and last and all. So, I wanted to have you too."

"Not you?" Tony pointed to the seated fox.

Matthias laughed and shrugged. "Sorry. Straight."

Tony gaped. Virgil wasn't just gay; he and his ancestors had been gay for five generations, without a hint of bisexuality among them. Tony looked back to the fox still fondling him. "And you?"

"Gay as a bird in springtime. And I think you're doing awful too much talking and not enough filling me with dick."

Tony, despite himself, laughed, the antics of the horny fox peeling away the layers of stress. He managed to convince them both to take themselves to somewhere more private, a nearby closet with just enough room for the three of them. Matthias stood behind him, pinning Tony's arms in a full nelson. Matthew was down on his knees, licking over Tony's growing shaft.

Tony knew it was Matthew's first time with sex, and he could feel it to some extent. The fox's tongue seemed to hesitate or suddenly switch directions, his mind battling with memories of being in different bodies, with different tongues and different ways of pleasing a man. Still, he was eager, very eager, and the feeling of his warm muzzle around Tony's shaft was enough to make the human melt back into Matthias' strong arms.

He let his weight fall back against the russet-colored meta behind him. He was still shocked to feel a complete absence of erection from the fox there. Unbidden, an image came to mind of Tony forcing the other fox to his knees, making him suck his shaft too, regardless of orientation, maybe with some rough anal sex to finish it off while the fox whimpered and begged him to stop. He swatted the idea down after enjoying it for just a fraction of a second. He wasn't that kind of monster.

Suddenly, Tony was very aware of Matthew's teeth grazing over his length. He tensed up in Matthias' grip, but the fox held him tight, head over Tony's shoulder, watching the human's shaft slip in and out of his brother's muzzle. Matthew's hair, a mane of pure white the same tone as the fur on his belly, was brushed forward, half-hiding one eye, which gave him a sultry look as if he were peering at his lover around a corner. As he sucked, the fox would toss his head back from time to time, to uncover the eye, but moments later the hair fell back into place.

Matthew lifted his hands and grazed sharp claws along the skin of Tony's hips. It felt incredible, caught on that edge of momentary discomfort, fully aware of the pain those teeth and claws could inflict, but knowing that Matthew would never use them. He wondered if somehow Virgil's masochism had gotten mixed around; did his sons instead get enjoyment from inflicting pain?

Tony started to grind himself into the fox's muzzle, but almost as soon as he started, the fox had made him stop, sharp claws clutching around his testicles. The fox didn't so much as nick Tony's skin, he just held him there, enjoying bobbing his head over Tony's length at his own pace. It felt as though Matthew had settled on a technique: lips sealed tight, tips of his fangs grazing over Tony's length, long tongue trying its best to wrap about the shaft inside his muzzle. The stimulation was too much too soon. Tony lost his load, spurting his seed into the fox's waiting muzzle.

Matthew slurped every last drop down, still flicking his tongue over his lips longingly, while his hand had drifted down to his own stiff erection. "You know, hun, we could always give you some of the training we receive. Might help you last a little longer."

Tony felt Matthias' body wriggle with a chuckle and he reached back to flick the fox's ears. "Enough, both of you. I have a patient to attend to and you've kept me from him long enough." As Matthias let him go, he reached out, rubbing over a fox's muzzle with each hand. "But thank you, both."

They churred and helped him redress. Matthew, ever playful, captured Tony's hand and placed it against his own pulsing erection as they stepped back through the door.

"Oh! Laika, I didn't know you'd come in."

The wolfess was there, standing in the same black leather he'd seen her wear at her home. As soon as the two foxes saw her, they fell to the floor, prostrating themselves, the hint of a whine echoing from their throats. She looked to them, then to his confused reaction. "Don't mind them," she said, as if telling him to ignore a fly that was buzzing about the room. "I came because I reconsidered what you asked me. I do believe I can be of assistance with Cody."

He smiled. "Great!"

"Slaves, hold him down."

Tony's gaze turned sharply downwards. Both foxes were lifting themselves up, reaching for him. He fought off one of Matthew's hands, but Matthias had an arm on his jacket already, pulling him to the ground, forcing his arms up behind his back, painfully twisting the joints. "Please, sir," Matthias hissed. "Don't resist."

"What are you doing?" Tony shouted.

"What you asked me to do," Laika said dispassionately. "Merely making sure you do not interfere."

Tony struggled harder as the wolfess stepped through the door and into the observation room with Cody. "Please, sir," Matthias said again, "we don't want to have to hurt you."

They watched, all three of them on the floor, heads bent up to watch through the window as the wolfess unbuckled Cody's straps. The black fox practically fell off the bed as he was released, his whole body shaking as he too prostrated himself. The wolfess reached to her belt, pulling from it a long knife, it's blade glinting. "I understand you desire to end your life," she said. "I am inclined to let you do so."

"No!" Tony kicked hard to buck the two foxes off, but they simply bent him upright to give Matthias' fist a chance connect at his solar plexus. Tony doubled over, the breath and fight leaving him in an instant. He was forced back to the ground, gasping for breath.

"However," Laika continued, "your father was a coward."

She paused, as if waiting for a response. Cody's voice cracked once before he nodded, "Yes, ma'am."

"Dante tried to run away from who he was. He tried to escape, and when he could not, he blamed you and your brother, tried to punish you for living while he could not." She pulled out her whip, let the length of it graze over the whimpering fox's muzzle. "You know that punishment should not be given in that way. The only punishment you earn should be delivered by us and only if you yourself have earned it."

Cody gave a tiny nod, repeating, "Yes, ma'am."

"Punishing you for his own fears was the most cowardly act I have thing I have seen any meta do to another. His hate is a powerful thing. So I understand your desire for death, but I am not convinced your desire is truly your own and not that of your cowardly father wishing you dead." She spun her hand, and the whip wrapped about her forearm. "Convince me it is, convince me it is bravery and not cowardice that drives you, and I will give you what you desire."

Tony feebly tried to reach out, but by now he was too weak. Matthias could have held him in place with a single arm. With both foxes holding him down with all their might, he didn't have a chance.

He heard Cody's voice, meek, feeble. "How do I prove my bravery, ma'am?"

"Stand." He did. Her own body fell into a fighting posture, knees forward, one hand guarding her stomach, the other her head. "I don't have any sparring partners besides Dominic. If you're able, I want you to fight me."

"No," Matthew whispered. "Don't do it!"

Tony understood: the fear all the metas felt for the tamers was deep, primeval. Being ordered to strike one under orders wouldn't have been a problem - they were conditioned to obey - but being required to strike one only under permission was unthinkable. They couldn't build themselves up enough courage, unless, of course, they were fighting for something else.

Tony watched, they all watched, as Cody balled a hand into a fist and made the tiniest of strikes towards the wolfess. She simply stood to the side and let it pass right by her. "Pathetic. You truly are your father's son."

Tony could see those words hit Cody as if they had been a slap to the face instead. An ember of something dark and dangerous glowed inside his eyes. He held his hands up same as she did, mimicking her stance.

"Ah, now this is more like it."

Cody still hesitated, his eyes were focused on the whip still coiled around her arm. His next attack was a straight-forward punch to the face, but his motions were slow enough for Laika to duck under it and charge forward, her shoulder meeting his chest with a thud. Cody was knocked back, momentarily stunned.

The fox's next attack was a full charge. His hands were low, ready to deliver a crushing blow to her gut or chin. But Laika was far too fast and experienced, side-stepping one blow, deflecting the other, and then standing still as Cody's teeth found their way around her neck. She looked not the least concerned, only mildly surprised that he had got past her guard. It seems she had underestimated him.

She tapped his muzzle. "Enough."

The fox fell back to the ground, groveling and licking over her boots. "No whip for you, Cody. Not today. You did as your tamer expected and shall receive the rewards of doing so."

Tony struggled, but it was useless. He was held flat to the ground as Laika slipped the knife into Cody's outstretched hands. He saw her whispering into his ears, but couldn't make out the words. Maybe Matthias and Matthew could, though, for their mouths hung open while they listened. As Laika stood, the knife clattered out of his open hand, the fox curling into a ball, tail wrapped around himself for comfort.

Laika left the observation room, and upon seeing the two foxes still pressing Tony into the ground, she snapped her fingers. "Let him up."

Matthias and Matthew switched roles at once, helping Tony first kneel then sit up, still wheezing from the blow to his stomach earlier.

She lifted an eyebrow. "Which of you did this to him?"

Matthias' ears flattened. "I did, ma'am."

"I gave instructions for you explicitly to hold him. You will follow me." She growled sharply as he began to stand. "On all fours."

Matthias whimpered, slipping down to his hands and knees, and crawling over to lap at Laika's boots just as Cody had, but Laika kicked him away, sharply, as if he were some cur.

"What - What are you going to do to him?" Tony asked, supporting himself with Matthew's help as he tried to stand.

"I think I'll give him to Dominic for the night." Her growl was deep, the white of her fangs showing as she snarled. Matthias had done the unthinkable: he had harmed a human. "He needs a cock up his ass to remind him of his station."

Tony tried to inch his way closer to Laika, but Matthew held him back. "You can't do that. He's straight."

Without a trace of emotion, Laika responded, "So is Dominic.

"This is our price, Doctor. You wanted our assistance, and we gave it out of respect for your station and because in matters of medicine and health, we defer to your wisdom. We expect the same respect and deference when it comes to keeping order and discipline amongst the metas."

Tony could only watch, helpless, as Laika lead the young fox out of the room, back to their home of a thousand torments. "Get me to him," Tony whispered to Matthew, pointing to the still curled black fox in the other room. He could still barely walk and Matthew's guidance was more pull than support.

As soon as Tony was on his knees beside Cody, the fox looked up, just long enough to see who it was, then slipped into the spot against Tony's chest. The fox's fingers clutched at Tony's clothes and Tony gently held the silently shivering fox in against himself, for a moment not caring what price Matthias had to pay.

"Sir?" The black fox spoke quietly, as if not wanting to hear the sound of his own voice. "I'm ready to try living for a bit. I still want you to know I haven't made up my mind. But I'm willing to try."

* * *

"We have received your report, Doctor Walden. Congratulations on your success with Cody."

The man on the intercom again. Still no face, just the same simpering voice: the congratulations had nothing to do with Cody's well-being and everything to do with Cody now being in a position to earn them money. "Thank you," Tony responded formally, but his mind was back that morning: after Cody had regained the will (and Tony the strength) to stand, the first thing he did was take Cody to the cafeteria. No sooner had they arrived, then Cody was surrounded by a bouncing, wagging ball of fur, greeted and hugged by every single meta in the room and several more who came in from adjoining halls when they heard the news. Tony watched as Cody was subsumed by the mob, pulled out of the human's hand; it felt then like Tony had been yanked away from something important, a piece of himself lost to the mob of metas.

"We do have some concerns still, Doctor Walden. We have received information that your report is... incomplete."

Tony straightened in his chair. "How so?"

"In the sexuality section." Tony heard a rustle of paper as the man on the other end of the line flipped through pages - the bean-counters still wanted paper reports to file. "We understand that Cody has a high tolerance for pain, in addition to a fetish for masochism and humiliation, a very strong fetish. This could be a great asset to our company, and we would like to know why this was not reported."

Tony's brain whirred as he tried to imagine who had delivered that information to them. Laika or Dominic? No, they were cruel but would know as well as Tony what the impact of additional stresses would do to Cody's mind right now. The other metas wouldn't betray Cody like that; only one like Dante would have that kind of hatred. That left only Tony and those who worked for him.

Tony ignored the repeated request from the man on the intercom and swiveled his chair around. There were five other people in the room, five other possibilities. Four were attending their duties, looking back to Tony with concern when they could spare a moment's glance. The fifth, a simple medtech, was doing all he could to not meet Tony's gaze. That was the one.

"Those particular traits," Tony said, keeping his eyes on the tech in the corner, "will, I believe, cause a relapse into Cody's suicidal desires if allowed to be exploited." The tech in the corner froze. "With no offense to your position, sir: only those in the medical profession here tend to pay attention to warnings that say 'Do not use. May be lethal.' So I made the decision to ignore the details of the bureaucracy for my patient's sake. If you require more than my word, I believe the tamers will concur with my assessment."

"I... yes, it seems they would. We received a notification from them, stating that they would not, under any circumstances, take Cody in for punishment." His voice seemed uncertain, as if he had never been given such an absolute by a meta, even a tamer. "Still, Doctor Walden, we must impress upon you the need for clarity and precision in your reports."

Tony's patience snapped. "Then I must impress upon you the need for actually paying attention to what is written in those reports!"

He heard a shuffling; the man on the other end adjusting his tie, he suspected, and attempting to regain composure. "Doctor Walden. The potential of a slave with his unique skills is not one we can afford to pass up. If it indeed causes a relapse, then you must simply deal with it as it appears."

"Damn it! Listen to me - " but Tony's eyes saw the flashing red light: the call had ended. His hand slammed against the desk, making everyone else in the room jump.

He stood so suddenly his chair squealed across the floor. He marched right up to the frightened tech in the corner, placed a hand none-too-gently on his shoulder. "I hope this was merely a mistake. You're young and inexperienced, and you probably thought it was the right thing to do," Tony said. "But I can't have my staff second-guessing me to others. If you disagree with my decisions, I need to be the first one you talk to. If you still disagree, only then do you talk to someone else."

Tony leaned in closer, his grip tightened. "And if you ever go over my head like this again, I won't wait to see if your actions cost the life of a patient: I will see to it you are thrown out of here so fast that no hospital or practitioner's office in the country will be desperate enough to take you in."

As Tony stormed out, he once again found himself asking what kind of monster he was.

A very good one, he decided.

* * *

Tony nearly tripped over Matthias' body in the halls. The fox was splayed out length-wise next to the door to Tony's temporary room, his body - and his lungs - barely moving. His body stank of sweat, cum, piss, and blood. Lots of blood.

His hand immediately slapped the nearest intercom. "This is Doctor Anthony Walden, I have an emergency in the guest... quarters..."

He looked down. Matthias' teeth gripped the cuff of his pants, shaking his head for all he was worth, even though it was apparent even that tiny motion itself was excruciatingly painful.

"Nevermind. It appears it's been taken care of." Tony flicked his hand off the intercom and knelt down beside Matthias' wheezing body.

"Can't," the fox said, his eyes unfocused, his voice rolling in a strange way. "They'll drug me, make the pain go away. Not s'pposed to let that happen. Would have to go back, so they can make me feel it again."

They'd drugged him, Tony realized, something to keep his mind conscious despite the pain they delivered. He'd watched Dominic rape a meta who hadn't done anything just to instill terror into her. He hated to think of what they did to Matthias, who had committed one of the greatest taboos by injuring a human.

"Can I, can I stay with you, sir?" The fox asked.

"Of course," he said. He slipped his badge over the handle of the door and it opened, causing the fox's body, which had been propped up against the door, to roll inside. The fox's arms and legs flopped about uselessly, and Tony realized that the fox was far too weak even to crawl anymore. "Did you fight them?"

"With all I had, sir," the fox slurred.

Tony knew that fighting wasn't the same fighting Cody had done, this was the fighting of desperation, the feral kicks and punches of a cornered beast doing all it could to avoid the pain that it could not seem to escape. How had he gotten here after that? Likely the tamers had just dumped him outside when they finished, leaving him to crawl on his belly through the halls, avoiding all humans for the additional pain their kindness would mean, and being avoided by all other metas: he was a burning man, and they didn't dare to touch him lest they caught on fire too.

He stepped into the bathroom, drew a quick warm bath, and hauled the fox's limp body in, uttering silent praises to Virgil for letting his children be light. The fox's legs kicked a few times as the human's hands brushed over sensitive spots. There was nothing he could do about that; the fox's whole body was sensitive now. Carefully, Tony lifted Matthias' body over the lip of the tub and helped him slip into the water.

Almost immediately, the water turned milky, white in spots from cum still sticking to the fox's fur, red in most other places as caked blood lifted away. He opened up the drain and faucet together, constantly refilling the bath with clean water until it no longer changed colors the moment it touched his fur. Meanwhile, he cradled Matthias' head in his arms, holding it up out of the water so he didn't drown. "It's okay," he kept repeating, "I have you." Tony gave soft caresses to the back of the fox's ears; if he could ease the anxiety, it should cut the pain just as well as the anesthetic in the bathroom's medicine cabinet. He tried not to feel shame: Matthias' predicament had been as much Tony's fault as the fox's. Matthias had asked him, begged him not to struggle, but he'd done so anyways. Tony felt sick.

He ran his fingers as lightly as he could through the fox's fur. The fox flinched, often quite violently, but he knew he had to get the blood out now. They had used coagulators on him. They could have flayed his back all night long and he wouldn't have died of bleeding. Carefully he worked in some soap into the fur, keeping his motions as slow as he could manage. The water ran dark again as peeled off flakes of deep red blood filled it, then swept down the drain.

As he worked he felt through the fur, searching for any further damage, happy to find not much. The pain was intense, but the damage was superficial. The worst things he could detect were muscle strains and maybe a small tear at the back of one of his knees. He guessed they had drugged him still further with muscle relaxants when he began to resist: no sense in letting him do serious injury to himself. That probably explained the urine he smelled earlier too.

Tony reached down and unplugged the drain, letting the water slowly vacate the pool before grabbing a towel and ever so slowly wrapping Matthias in it. The fox wrapped one arm about Tony, tried with all the effort his drugged body could produce to pull him closer. The fox's head pressed against his chest and he simply babbled, saying over and over again, "M'sorry. M'sorry. Was bad. Was wrong. M'sorry."

Tony wanted to tell him not to speak, but knew it was pointless. The fox was driven by a night of terror. All Tony could do was listen to the fox, and tell him each time that he was forgiven, silently wishing for the fox's forgiveness in turn.

While the fox continued to mumble incoherent apologies, Tony patted the moisture from his fur, then took out a hair dryer and started blowing it over the fox's body. That made Matthias quiet. His body didn't even move as the hot air slid over his form. When Tony flicked the drier off, her could feel Matthias' paws grip him with more strength than before, his eyes more focused and steady.

With his help, Matthias tried to stand. It took two or three tries. The fox's legs wobbled underneath him, and even once upright, he still needed to use both arms on the wall or on Tony to balance himself. But he was standing once again. His tail gave a little wag, proud, it seemed, of his accomplishment.

"You should get some sleep," Tony said as he helped guide the fox out of the bathroom and onto the single bed in the room.

"Yes, sir," the fox said, unwilling to argue anything on that point. But as Tony stood, he found his hand being held tightly by the fox. "Please don't leave, sir. I don't want to be alone tonight." His eyes had the frightened look of a child who had just woken from a nightmare. Except the monsters under his bed were real.

"There's only one bed in here."

"Then we'll share." The fox's hand slipped down and gave a soft caress over the front of Tony's trousers, which all of a sudden felt much too tight. The entire room seemed too tight.

He took a step back so the fox's hand fell away. "Matthias... you're not thinking right. You've been drugged. You're straight."

The fox eased himself upright and pushed in against Tony, pinning him against the far wall, even though the effort apparently brought more than a few tears of pain to his eyes; while his hand returned to massage at Tony's trousers, his mouth started a kiss atop Tony's clothed navel, a kiss which continued up over his chest, around his neck and to his cheek. The action was so teasing and intimate, he half-expected Matthew's light-hearted tones in his ears, saying, ?That feel straight to you, hun??

Instead, when the kiss ended, Matthias' head rested on his shoulder. ?It was a bad day, a bad, bad day," he said, as if that were news to Tony. "Couldn't think for myself anymore. Had to run, hide in my memories. I remembered you and dad together. Other lovers, hundreds of them. Dreamed of kinder arms, and still he beat me and made me feel pain. I couldn't escape.

"I started to believe it was all made-up. That nothing like that could have possibly happened." Matthias pressed in closer, his hands now slipping under his clothes to directly massage his length. "I know you want me. I want you too; I want you to be my first. It's not that I'm attracted to you. He didn't turn me gay. I just want the same comfort Virgil felt with you."

Tony tried to hide the part of his heart that split at that: "It's not that I'm attracted to you." He hated himself, but he did wish Dominic had turned him gay.

Still, he looked into those wide eyes, the hint of a smile there, and wanted nothing more than to help. He shrugged himself out of his own clothes, felt the fox's fur (stiffer and more wiry than his father's) press in against his naked body. Tony lay out on the bed first and guided Matthias over top of him, lip to lip, cock to cock. It was the only position Tony could think of on short notice that wouldn't put any pressure on Matthias' abused back and rear. It still left the question of what to do with his hands, so he simply held onto the fox's own hands, fingers interlaced.

Matthias offered a weak smile and slowly started to grind. Like Virgil, Matthias' shaft was a little shorter and squatter than the average human, with a prominent knot at the base. It was slick still, partly from a bit of excited pre-cum, partly from moisture from the bath that hadn't dried earlier. As he kept slowly grinding, their pre-cum mixed over their lengths, making the motion slick and easy. Matthias gave a quiet moan at that.

The fox's head lay on Tony's chest, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of pleasure and pain. His hips were giving short sudden thrusts, grinding shaft to shaft, and after every thrust, his hips shuddered in pain. Tony kept asking, as softly as he could, for the fox to slow down, but Matthias was driven by a deeper lust than even Tony was; or perhaps, driven by the need for sex that had nothing to do with pain and fear.

But the drugs and long day had taken their toll on the fox's body; though Tony could feel Matthias' heart thudding directly atop him, pumping aching, needy blood through his shaft, he could also feel the hips slow, unable to continue moving.

Tony slid a hand between them and wrapped it about the fox's shaft, looping his thumb as best he could about his own, and stroked them both together. The fox's body arched limply, his tail flitted a few times, and his shaft pulsed with need. Tony tried to move his hand with the same urgency that Matthias had moved his hips, but it was never quite enough, the fox's body quivering and straining as if wanting more but unable to build up the strength to actually move.

Matthias spasmed in climax, the fox's body going rigid on top of him, not from pain but from the sudden release of pain. Tony kept his one hand clutched tightly to the fox's, not daring to embrace him further.

"Thank you, Tony," the fox mumbled, "felt good."

The fox slumped off the top of Tony's body and plodded in a half-circle, resting his head against Tony's still stiff erection. His tongue flicked out against it, thin supple tongue teasing over Tony's manhood.

"Tony..." The fox's voice was slow, not from the drugs anymore, but from the afterglow and exhaustion. "Virgil had a plan, an idea, a way to save Cody."

The fox's voice broke off, and Tony wanted to ask what the idea had been, but he saw Matthias had fallen completely asleep, his mouth wrapped around Tony's shaft, suckling quietly as he dreamed.

* * *

Tony's seat itched. The stadium seating of the theater had some indescribable fabric coating it, and it seemed to rub against his formal clothes in all the wrong ways. He kept shifting position, being reminded of a particular unscratchable itch against his thigh, and shifted again.

"Excuse me, is this seat free?" The woman who asked stood in the aisle, wearing an elegant evening dress and a pair of glasses perched low on her nose. A beaded handbag hung from her shoulders.

Tony gave a slightly stiff shake. The theater was about half-full, maybe a little more. In the higher seats where Tony sat, there were few at all. The main floor, just in front of the stage, was filled with elegant tables lit by candlelight, the tablecloths thick and draping down to the floor, hiding those underneath. All those tables were filled.

"Thanks," the woman said, taking a seat next to Tony. "I'm Madeline. What are you doing up here?"

"I..." Tony was somewhat taken aback. The obvious answer was, "I'm here for the sex show," but she didn't seem the type who shared the similar erotic interest. To an extent, everyone was here for the sex, but not all were quite so straight-forward about it. "I work here. The fox on stage has been one of my patients." He gestured to where Cody stood, the black fox's head wrapped in a tight hood as he hung from a St. Andrews' Cross, spread-eagled.

"A doctor? I'm one too of a sort." She took a seat next to him and crossed her legs. "Doctor of Philosophy. I study sexuality and behavior at Cornell. Decided I should spend a few weeks of my sabbatical studying meta sexuality while I was here. I try never to miss a show."

It was nice to meet another human being who actually felt like a human being. Tony had nightmares every time he sent away one of his patients, worried they would end up in the arms of someone who only wanted a quick dirty fuck, who'd use them as carelessly as Laika or Dominic had. An image welled up in mind of the woman, Madeline, seated on one bed as she observed two metas copulating, stopping them to ask questions here or there. It made him smile.

The lights suddenly dimmed and both he and Madeline leaned forward, eyes on the stage, where Cody's body was lit up suddenly from a footlight.

"Hello, dears!" Matthew's light call echoed in the theater. There was no microphone strapped to his chest; his voice was powerful enough to reach even the top rows on its own. The fox wore a corset with satin shoulder-length gloves and stockings. "I hope you all have been enjoying the pre-show entertainment." He put a paw on Cody's thighs, tracing it slowly to the black fox's erection. "I know he was enjoying it."

A ripple of laughter passed through the theater, and a sigh of relief passed through Tony. This was Virgil's plan: somehow, maybe the same way that Dante packed his hate into Cody, Virgil had managed to pack his own wishes into Matthew and Matthias, hoping that they, unlike him, would enjoy giving pain, not receiving it. It had worked for Matthew at least.

That made Matthew and Cody a natural pair, top and bottom, perfect for the stage. On his own, Cody would be given the worst of the worst that walked in and asked for a slave, but if he could bring in greater money another way, up on stage, the bean-counters would be leery of wearing him out through renting. He had to impress tonight, they both did: if they got enough positive reviews, they'd become a regular feature.

He watched as Matthew sashayed across stage to where an impressive pile of toys lay. The walk to the table and back to Cody gave time and pace to the act. Matthew picked up what looked like a simple cord of leather, wrapping it slowly about his paw, then sauntered back to Cody. Matthew's touch made Cody jump at first, a pair of fingers wandering aimlessly over his chest and belly, then aiming straight for his sheath, petting over it before cupping the balls firmly in hand.

The cord Matthew had selected had more to it than just leather. Some parts were stiffer than others, and there were metal fasteners over its length. As Matthew looped it about the base of Cody's scrotum, it started to push the fox's balls down farther and farther from his body. When he finished, they were extended a good three inches away from Cody's body. A screen flickered to life above the stage, showing a close-up of the black fox's balls, the skin stretched taut over their surface. Matthew flashed a massive, teasing grin to the crowd and reached in, tapping the tightened orbs a few times. Each tap made Cody's whole body jerk, the chains at his wrists and ankles clanking loudly.

"Awwwwww, poor darling," Matthew said. "You might think I'm cruel and naughty up here, teasing such a sweet young stud like this, but I know the truth. I know what a good slut he really is." Matthew knelt down, careful not to touch Cody's body at all so that the black fox had no idea what was coming. Matthew got his head within inches of the fox's hips and slowly, carefully, letting the camera get a perfect view, breathed out slowly over the fox's bound orbs.

Everyone in the crowd watched as Cody's hips thrust up suddenly, grinding against the air. And everyone heard the whine of pure need and lust escaping the fox's throat.

The applause was polite. That wasn't impressive, not yet. Matthew was just playing the crowd, hooking their interest.

Next were the clothespins, a whole box full of them. Matthew took his time with each one; he stroked over the spot he was about to place one on, teased and pinched the skin, and then applied the clothespin with a tiny sigh of happiness, as if he took no greater joy in life than in tormenting the black fox tied up beside him. The positioning started simple, twelve pins across Cody's abs, ten more across his chest, finishing up with one placed directly on top of each nipple (those needed no pinching; they were already rock hard).

From there, Matthew picked up the pace. The next clothespins lined up over the fox's empty sheath, four went along the underside of his shaft, and one atop the very head of Cody's stiff cock. But he didn't stop there. He pulled out the last four, flashed another massive grin to the crowd and without a moments hesitation, clipped them to the fox's dangling balls, one after another.

The room was dead silent, everyone leaned in, expecting Cody to do something, to scream or shy in away in pain. But Cody moved forward, thrusting needfully into the air.

"Pardon me, huns, I think I must have left him a little worked up." The crowd gave a quick round of applause, not wanting to delay the next part of the show.

Matthew tugged off a glove with his teeth, suckling on two fingers before sliding them both along Cody's thigh and pressed them up against the other fox's tailhole. The camera switched position, showing everyone as the fingers disappeared to the first knuckle inside the black fox. Then, Cody started to move, thrusting back hard against the offered fingers, seeming not to care that the sudden movement shook each of the painful clothespins. Matthew playfully rolled his eyes, as if looking far too used to the fact that guys would eagerly fuck themselves on just his offered fingers.

Cody's panting and whimpering filled the theater. Everyone leaned in, expecting to watch the fox climax despite the pain, when Matthew suddenly yanked his fingers away, leaving the other fox whimpering, hanging from the chains, thrusting in need. "Can't let him get off too soon, huns, you understand."

For the next part of the act, Matthew brought out a riding crop. He played with himself for a short while as he rubbed the crop slowly along Cody's body, just enjoying the shivers and sudden gasps he gave. When he finished teasing them both, Matthew's shaft was just as stiff and hard as Cody's. That's when he started to take the clothespins off, one by one, with a single sharp slap of the crop to knock them loose. He started on Cody's shaft, freeing it so he could cool Cody down in between flicking off the clothespins; however, his idea of "cooling down" involved running the leather tip of the crop along Cody's length.

Cody squealed in pleasure and pain when the last four clothespins, the ones at his balls, were knocked away in quick succession. Matthew then, for the first time, pulled off Cody's hood, revealing the ball gag underneath and leaving Cody blinking in the light of the stage. "You know, hun," Matthew said, speaking as if just to Cody, but loud enough to be heard throughout the theater, "I thought about stopping our show here, pawing myself to climax and leaving you in denial on stage. Of course, as soon as the curtains go down, I'd let you free, but..." That foxy grin returned again. "If I did that, I get the feeling you'd have pawed yourself thinking about all that could still have happened up on stage, with everybody watching. Am I right?"

Cody nodded, blushing furiously.

"Then let's finish where you belong, up on stage!"

The remaining part of the act passed by in a blur. Matthew spun Cody around so his back was to the crowd. He lifted away Cody's tail and used a cuff to pin its tip against Cody's neck. Then, he slipped a dildo into the fox's tailhole, pushing it in only an inch. The crop spun in Matthew's hand, landing sharply three times on Cody's rear before smacking the butt of the dildo, forcing it in another fraction of an inch. He kept doing this, the blows an unrelenting patter like rain on the rooftop, and every few strikes there was a thud as Matthew hit the dildo squarely and forced it in a little deeper. Cody's body writhed on the stage, his hips grinding up, pressing his length against the polished wood of the cross for added stimulation.

When at last the dildo had sunk in entirely, Matthew switched tactics, peppering the fox's constricted balls with a fusillade of tiny taps. Everyone's eyes were stuck on the stage, watching as despite the pain and discomfort, Cody climaxed hard, a fleck of seed even hitting the camera and obscuring its view.

Matthew bowed, the curtain fell, and the lights returned to their usual brightness.

"A little short," Madeline said next to him, "but wow! The pain tolerance of that meta must be astounding. Do you think he was specifically designed for that?"

Tony's teeth gritted. He didn't want to say much, largely due to his own erection throbbing against his legs,feeling ashamed for being so aroused when Madeline still had only academic interest in the show. "I can't discuss that, miss. I'm sorry."

"No, don't suppose you could. Thank you for the seat, however. They truly were astounding though." Tony felt a moment of pride: his patience with Cody had paid off, and now the fox was earning the honest praise of others. Madeline shook his hand, smiled, and left.

Tony gave himself a few more minutes to calm down before standing. He could see others in the crowd, fanning themselves, engaging in small talk to try and brush off the arousal before standing. When at last he felt he could, he walked slowly down to the dimly lit floor. The shadows hung so thick here that he couldn't see anyone in particular unless he was within a few feet of them. That was the point of the floor: privacy.

He checked a scrap of paper in his hand and walked up to a table on the far left side. There a middle-aged businessman sat looking a bit flustered as Tony neared. "Can I help you?"

"I work here. I'm to take the slave you were using."

"Oh," He saw the man's hands shuffle around under large tablecloth and then heard his zipper being drawn back up. The man scooted over and then gestured to the table. "Pity I couldn't take him afterwards," he said amiably. "I think he needs to be used some more."

Tony knelt down and pulled the tablecloth back. Underneath, Matthias hung. His body was wrapped in leather harnesses to keep his body tightly bound and well-supported. His mouth was in the perfect position to provide oral attention to anyone on this side of the booth. And while no one occupied the other side of the booth, anyone who did could have easily taken Matthias anally. He unbuckled the fox, taking care to release his arms and legs first so he wouldn't fall to the floor.

"Aren't you going to ask how he was?" The businessman asked.

"I'm a doctor, not an usher," Tony responded. "My first concern is him, not you." He helped Matthias to his feet, checking all the places where the straps had been placed for any signs of bruising or stress. He found none until he got to the fox's jaw. "Gave you a work-out, did he?"

The fox meekly nodded and whispered too low for the client to hear him, "Took ten minutes of my best just to get him hard."

Tony nodded and leaned back over the table towards the businessman, dropping his voice as if the slave would be unable to hear him. "sir, we can provide a number of very potent products that will make your stay here a far more enjoyable one. As a professional, I would recommend asking for a red-nine at the front desk."

The businessman looked up, surprised, a bit more flustered, and then happy. "Thank you. I will do that." He shuffled out of the booth and walked quickly towards the exit, no doubt to stop by the front desk as soon as possible.

"Sir?" Matthias asked. "What's in a red-nine?"

Tony smiled. "Sugar."

The fox shared his smile. "We shouldn't head back immediately, sir." His tone was deferential, far more so than Tony had heard before; he was in public and so had to act more like a proper slave. "They'll need a little more time to unwind."

Tony uncurled a leash from his belt and clipped it to Matthias' collar, taking a seat and pulling the fox into his lap. He reached up and began to massage lightly at the base of the fox's jaw.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"No offense intended, sir, but what are you doing? You shouldn't be attending to me like this in public."

Tony smiled, wrapped the length of the leash twice around Matthias' jaw, and then forced his head down against the table. "That better?"

The fox stifled a laugh and nodded as Tony held him down and continued the massage. When the fox started to relax, Tony spoke up again. "There was something I wanted to ask you about as well."

Matthias gave a quick look around to make sure no one would see and repositioned the leash about his muzzle to give himself enough room to speak from. "Yes, sir?"

"A few days ago, when Laika visited Cody, she whispered something to him as she gave him the knife. Do you know what she said?"

Matthias had given a shiver at the mention of the tamer's name, but looked up at him and nodded. "I'm surprised you didn't realize, sir. She told him that you had come to her and asked her for help."

"Why would that have mattered?"

"Sir, we may consciously know that the tamers don't inspire the same fear in humans as they do in us, but that doesn't mean we fully accept that. The thought of going to a tamer and asking help from them - we can't help but think of that as being incredibly courageous.

"I think it showed Cody that as much courage as he had in facing death, you showed just as much in trying to keep him alive."

Tony stayed silent. Some part of that explanation seemed strange to him. Why would Tony's courage matter so much to Cody?

A few minutes later, he and Matthias stood and walked backstage. They found Matthew and Cody nestled together, arms wrapped about each other as they relaxed in a dressing room. "What's the news?" Tony asked.

Matthew looked up with a smile and said, "Good, hun. The attendance and reviews from today have earned us a second showing a week from now. They want to see how good we'll do if they have a full week to drum up expectations. If we do well then..." He tugged Cody in tighter to him, play-biting at the black fox's ears. "Then we might earn a regular show slot, and Cody will be off the rough renter's market."

Tony smiled. "Cody, have you made your decision yet?" Though it was unspoken, everyone knew what he meant: his decision to live or die.

The fox looked away as Tony spoke to him. "No. I want to keep trying, but I don't know yet if I can."

The smile faded. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Matthew stood. "Do you need us to leave, hun?"

"No, no, that won't be necessary. It's something I was hoping to understand, Cody, about you and your brother."

Cody nodded, but turned himself further away, one hand on Matthew's thigh, looking down at the ground under his feet.

"When Matthias was with me the other night, he said that when things get bad, metas can lose themselves in the memories of their ancestors, wrap themselves up in good times gone by like a mental shield. When you and your brother were born, I had thought that Dante somehow just shouted over their voices, that his hate overpowered their love."

He paused. "But that's not true, is it?"

Cody slowly shook his head.

"I'm guessing that's what Michael felt. That's why he killed himself right away, but you didn't. With you, it worked differently. Dante's voice isn't as strong in your head. It's not that you drowned in his hate, but that his thoughts prevented you from feeling the love of your other ancestors. Am I right?"

Cody nodded, slow and steady, not looking up. "I guess, sir, it's what being human is like. We're supposed to know love, know it with no doubt from the moment we first wake. Humans have to struggle through the not-knowing."

"It's not as bad as you make it sound," Tony said and reached out to place a comforting hand on Cody's shoulder.

As soon as he touched the fox, Cody rounded on him violently, throwing off Tony's hand as he collapsed to the floor. His eyes were wide in fear and he pushed hismself back, curling himself into a ball in the corner. "Please don't, sir," he begged. "I know that you want me, but please, please don't."

Matthew and Matthias gaped, staring first at Cody then to Tony then back to Cody again.

Tony looked into Cody's eyes. He'd seen that look so much in the past few days: on the girl Dominic raped, on Matthias' face as he pleaded with Tony to stay with him that night. And here that same fear was directed to him. Part of him felt a surge of arousal, elation, desire - his darkest fantasies taking momentary form in the real world.

"It's because of me, isn't it? I'm why you can't choose life."

Cody was backed fully into the corner now, a nearby costume clutched over his body like a protective shield. He gave only the tiniest of nods.

And somewhere, Tony felt, Dante was laughing at him.

* * *

One, two. One, two. Tony felt the rhythm in his hands. One, two. One, two. His fingers ached even through the thick boxing gloves he wore. He bet the Corgi acting as his sparring partner was equally exhausted, but he didn't want to stop. Not yet. He wanted to hit and punch until he couldn't hit and punch any more, until he just passed out on the spot from exhaustion and could just let go of everything in a thoughtless, dreamless sleep.

He was in the gym. Not the main gym for the hotel, but the staff gym. Humans rarely came here except just before or after work. It was nearly midnight, so it had just a smattering of metas inside, and Tony himself.

He threw another punch at the corgi's padded hands. "Good blow, sir," the dog said. "Don't tense up. There's no need to waste energy that could be used to defend or attack."

Tony didn't care about the energy. He threw his entire body into every punch, just wanting to feel the impact. He felt the corgi gorigid, tensing just as he had instructed Tony not to.

"Doctor Walden," came a deep voice behind Tony, "might I remind you that the item you are currently turning into a pulp is considerably more expensive to replace than a simple punching bag."

Tony turned. There, leaning on the doorway to the room, was Dominic, golden eyes flashing amid his deep black fur. All the other metas in the room had kneeled at his appearance. Only the corgi remained upright, still under Tony's commands to serve as a sparring partner.

The wolf flashed his fangs in an imitation of a smile and sauntered closer. "What has you so worked up, Doctor?"

"Dante."

"Dante's dead."

"You think I don't know that?" Tony spun, sending two more full-body punches into the padded mitts of the corgi. "When you die, you get atomized, Dominic. Your body is chopped down into its constituent molecules and nutrients and used to help raise the next generation of metas. There's not enough left of Dante to piss on, and believe me I want to do far worse to him right now."

One, two. One, two. Tony built up his rhythm again, pretending the corgi's mitts had pictures of Dante's head on it, crushing in his skull the way Dante made Michael do to himself. If the hotel had worked in snuff films, they wouldn't mind cloning Dante, letting Tony kill him over and over again each day; Hell, they'd pay him to do it.

Dominic walked around the platform, stood behind the corgi. "And what did Dante do, besides the obvious?"

Tony huffed, tapped the corgi's hands to let him know he could lower them. The meta immediately dropped into a kneeling posture. "I don't know if he planned it or if it was just dumb, stupid luck. He gets a son who's frightened to death of how much he'll enjoy being raped and humiliated, manages to make that son miss the unconditional love that all metas are supposed to have, so when Cody is born, he imprints on the first human he sees, like a foster father or a godfather or something like that."

Tony collapsed back into a chair. "And he imprints on me. I am the one he looks up to for support. Me, the one doctor at this whole place who would actually enjoy the thought of raping and humiliating him."

"So..." Dominic took a step closer, his boots brushing up against the corgi's kneeling body. "Why don't you?"

"What?"

"Why don't you rape him?" He gripped the corgi by the scruff and pulled him up to his feet, getting a strangled yelp of fear from the meta. "I think I just figured you out, Doctor. The humans who work here, you all have different reasons for staying. Most honestly can't. They can't look into our faces and know that we will die in three years regardless of what they do. You doctors especially have trouble with it. But some of you manage to stay. For some, it's duty. For some, it's the good pay. But you," he chuckled and put a paw on the corgi's sheath, massaging it roughly, "you're in it for the fringe benefits, aren't you?"

Tony shook his head fiercely.

Dominic only laughed. "Oh, come now, Doctor. You can't lie to us. You stick around here because you get easy access to a whole bunch of guys brimming with energy and sexual prowess, who would each gladly let you fuck them. You don't have a personal life outside of this facility. I know; I've checked. Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy forcing that fox to the ground and taking him regardless of what he said. Don't tell me you haven't jerked yourself off to the thought. And don't tell me you weren't hoping I'd break that Matthias boy in for you."

Tony said nothing. He couldn't. Dominic was right.

The wolf kept rubbing at the corgi's sheath until the meta was hard. "You know, they'll never admit it openly, but there's no such thing as a straight meta. Oh, they might prefer one gender over the other, but they still react to the same biological need regardless of the sex they're presented with. See?" He moved his paw up, running it along the corgi's length. "Scared to death of me but he still responds so easily to my touch. He's already fantasizing about feeling me deep inside him; he can't help himself." The corgi gasped and gave a strained nod to confirm what Dominic said.

"Matthias fought me, hard as he could, but when I forced myself into him, he was in as much pleasure as that brother of his would have been. Tempts me to invite Cody over for a night just to see how fun he'd be."

"Shut up!" Tony jumped to his feet. "Take his spot. You're my sparring partner now."

Dominic smirked, showing off more teeth, and moved to take the mitts off the corgi.

"No, you go in with no defenses."

"Ha! Unlike these slaves, I am not required to simply stand down and let you hit me just because you order it."

"Fine."

Dominic placed his hands on his hips. "And unlike them, I am allowed to strike back."

"I really don't care. Dante isn't here, but you are, and you threatened Cody."

The wolf took a half-step back, falling into a fighting posture similar to the one Laika had taken with Cody. "You're right. I did. How much you want to bet he screams just as nice as Matthias?"

Tony punched, blinded by rage. Dominic simply tossed off his blow and landed his elbow against Tony's jaw.

"You're more pathetic than Dante. You really expected that to do anything?"

"Stop jerking me around!"

Dominic shrugged. "As you wish."

Tony never saw Dominic's first blow. It fell straight into his kidney, making him double-over in pain. The next landed under his chin. He saw it, but was helpless to avoid it; the blow sent him tumbling backwards.

"It good you didn't actually hit me. They might have fired you for that." The wolf paced around him, stalking. Each time Tony tried to get up, Dominic landed a kick to his ribs that knocked him down again. "You just don't understand what they're here for. Not yet. So let me inform you: they are slaves, here to do what you want." He gripped the corgi by the scruff, dragged him closer. "If you want to fuck him, all you have to do is order him onto his knees. Doesn't matter if he's gay or not. Onto his knees he'll go. And even though he won't tell you, he'll enjoy it too."

Dominic let out a full-throated laugh and kicked Tony down again. "You know, slave, I think he likes to hear his boys scream as they resist. So scream!" The wolf's paw closed around the corgi's balls, clenching tight.

The wail of pain was ear-splitting. Tony clapped the boxing gloves over his ears, but the sound didn't go away until the air in the corgi's lungs was used up and he collapsed beside Tony on the ground.

"Strictly speaking, we're not allowed to tame humans." Another kick sent Tony onto his back, where the wolf's paw pressed into his throat. "But I think you really need it. You need to understand their purpose.

"Of course, the challenge is to do this without whipping you or fucking you. But I'm sure you, you of all people, know: there's far better ways to induce pain than just physically. That boy's scream hurt you: because you liked it, the way he wailed; you wanted him to yell that way for you. And you hate yourself for it, even though you shouldn't.

"So I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll take that black fox bitch of yours and tie him down, pull out a camera and record the best porno the hotel has seen in years: 'Taming of a Slut.' I'll be sure to capture all his moans as I whip him, every last look of ecstasy as I humiliate him. And then, I'll make sure that video gets advertised with a big poster all over the complex, so you can never escape that look in his eyes."

"No!" Tony flung his legs up, trying to hit the wolf's head. Dominic had to jerk himself out of the way, removing his foot from Tony's neck. The human bounced to his feet, pressing the advantage, never letting Dominic regain his balance. His fists flailed wildly to keep him on edge, all the while he shouted, "Don't you dare touch him!"

He grinned as he felt an impact at his fist, but the smile vanished almost immediately. He hadn't injured Dominic; the wolf had simply caught one of his fists in the gap between his arm and torso, pinning it in. With a roar of rage, Dominic slammed his hand into Tony's outstretched elbow. His arm snapped straight with a loud crack. Pain burst in his eyes, and he collapsed.

"Hmph," the wolf knelt down and for added measure slapped Tony's face once. "As I said, good thing you didn't actually hit me. But you've been fun. We must do this again sometime." The wolf laughed as he stepped over Tony's groaning body and left.

All the metas in the room came to him as soon as Dominic was gone. They tended to his arm, gave him first aid, let him know everything would be all right. But none of them saw. All their attention was on Tony.

Tony's eyes were on the door, at the single window which showed Dominic's face for a moment more. All the cruel mirth had drained from his expression: his eyes were filled instead with sadness. He mouthed, "I'm sorry," and then was gone.

* * *

It was all an act. That was all he could think about, even as the metas got him a stretcher, transported him carefully down the halls. It was all an act.

Dominic hadn't wanted a fight. He'd deliberately provoked Tony into hitting him. That was the only explanation he could think of, but couldn't understand why he'd done it.

The pain didn't help his thinking. It felt like someone had jabbed a needle into his arm in ten different places, a big needle. Doctor Tisdale had seen to him, told him he'd been lucky, only a torn ligament, no muscular damage and no damage to the bones. Still it hurt enough that he was kept on a fairly steady supply of drugs. He didn't feel the pain so much anymore, but he felt weak.

Matthew and Matthias came to visit him at the clinic. They weren't yet working the usual rental circuit and requested to be there to comfort him. He was glad for the company. He felt them, in chairs propped up against his bed, resting their heads against his side. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness, never dreaming, but getting some rest. He would often wake with one hand cupping their cheek, the feeling of their whiskers tickling his wrist.

Sunlight finally woke him up completely. It trickled in over his face, warming it far too much. His hand was still on Matthew's cheek, and Matthias was curled in next to his lower legs, twitching as if in a dream. And just beyond the foot of the bed stood Cody, shoulders hunched, eyes glowering, lips curled in a snarl.

"You stupid, stupid human."

The fox's hands shook. He raised one high overhead, claws arrayed to strike.

"You stupid son of a bitch!"

Matthias caught him before the blow could land, acting quickly after the black fox's words had woken him. Matthias pushed him over and forced his hands behind his back. He then just wrapped his arms around the black fox, and held him tightly, not caring as Cody thrashed and nipped and likely clawed at his belly. "Whatever it is," Matthias whispered, "it's not worth hitting him."

Cody fought for only a moment more. "I... I just..." But he couldn't say anything more. He was overcome by sobs and went limp in Matthias' grasp.

Matthew woke up slowly. He looked to Tony, then went to his brother, joining in the gentle embrace holding Cody. They kissed him and nuzzled him until the tears streaming down his face had dried and all the fight had left him. Only then did they let him go.

Cody crawled onto the bed, stifling more sobs and trying to breathe regularly again. He nestled himself in against Tony's body, laying atop him, head to the human's chest, hands avoiding Tony's injured arms as he wrapped him into a hug, squeezing him tight. "You stupid idiot," he said, much softer now, no malice left. His hand had curled into a fist and was punching the bed beside him. "You should never have done that. Dominic could have had you thrown out. He could have killed you."

Tony's throat was parched. It felt like his tongue was made of sandpaper, dry as the Sahara. "I couldn't..." He closed his mouth, tried to think of eating succulent hams to moisturize his tongue once more. "Couldn't let him hurt you."

"You idiot," he said again. "Dominic isn't allowed to do that. Tamers can't take us in for punishment unless we've actually done something wrong."

Tony didn't mention the meta he had seen when he first visited their home, but he didn't. He couldn't explain why. Professional courtesy? From one monster to another?

"All he wanted was to rile you up." Cody sniffed, pounding his fist into the bed again. "And you idiot, you fell right into it. What would have happened to me if you left? Who else do I have to look after me?"

"What about us, hun?" Matthew asked quietly.

Cody sniffed again, looked over his shoulder. "I need to look after you just as much as you need to look after me. If I don't keep an eye on you, you'll fall in with the wrong kind of guy and get in a world of trouble."

Matthew smiled at that.

Cody turned himself back to Tony, clutching the human in against him as if the touch itself were precious and finite. "Please, sir, promise me you won't ever do that again. I don't know if I could take it."

And then, Tony understood. Cody saw him as a surrogate father, something the tamers must have recognized as well, and in fighting Dominic without any thought to his own well-being, career, or even his life, he'd shown himself to be just as devoted as a father to protecting him. He had become just what Cody needed him to be. He smiled down at the fox resting against him. "Cody," he said, weak and slow, "I won't do anything like that again, I promise. But you need to promise me something in return."

The fox looked up, still blinking moisture from his eyes.

"You need to promise me you'll live."

He laughed quick and sharp as he blinked away still more moisture. "I promise."

Tony kept his good arm wrapped about Cody. He was amazed that he didn't feel the dark fantasies pressing in on him; despite the beauty of the fox pressed in against him, there wasn't a sexual thought in his head right now.

Idly, Tony wondered what it would be like to be a father.

* * *

The doorbell rang.

Laika paused, halfway through her morning toast, ears turned to the door. The doorbell rang again and so she stood and opened it.

"Delivery for Laika and Dominic." A capped and uniformed delivery boy - human, no more than 20 - stood outside. In his arms was a massive bundle of flowers, at least fifteen different types. "Just sign here please." He offered up a pad from under the collection of flowers. She took it, signed quickly, and took the flowers from him.

The door slid shut quietly behind her.

"Who was that?" came Dominic's voice from the nearby bathroom.

"A delivery. Come out and see."

He stepped out, still toweling off the moisture from his shower, naked besides the blue cloth wrapped around his waist. The cloth nearly fell as he marveled at the flowers. They came in more varieties and types than he knew how to name. Laika was already preparing vases for holding them but needed to repurpose tall drinking cups for many of them. They added a touch of flair to the bare halls of their home. "Who sent them?" he asked.

"They were sent anonymously, but I have my ideas." She smiled and took a deep breath from a rose. It had been separated from the rest, carefully wrapped in tissue paper so as not to damage a single petal.

Dominic came up behind her, wrapped his arms about her waist, and nuzzled in against her neck. "We saved him."

"We saved them both. A good day's work."

He smiled and spoke, quiet and tentative, "I believe Matthew and Cody are putting on another show tonight. We could get a private box to watch."

"I'd like that."

Any further conversation was cut off by a quailing moan from beneath the floorboards, reminding them of the unfinished job still hanging in the dungeon. Laika sighed and started to move towards the stairs, but Dominic held her back, his hand grasping hers, his eyes pleading with her to let it go just this once.

Laika brushed away a lock of wet hair that had fallen in front of his face so she could look into both of his eyes at once. She silently shook her head and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before turning to the stairs again.

Then she trudged down into the darkness, becoming the monster once again.