Read Shorts: The Furry Years Online

Authors: John Van Stry

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #furry

Shorts: The Furry Years (7 page)

BOOK: Shorts: The Furry Years
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"I'll coach you as we go, and let you know what's acceptable and what's not. Don't worry about offending me or insulting me; I know you're inexperienced and young so I'm not going to get upset with you if you make mistakes."

He nodded, "I think I understand. Two of the male staff here are lovers, I always wondered why some of the others were a bit stiff around them."

"You're pretty perceptive," I chuckled, "How'd you know they were lovers? They weren't the ones you spied on, were they?"

He laughed, a rather pleasant sound, I'd have to get him to do it more often. "Oh no, they were very proper and professional, but I could smell how their scents were mingled on each other’s bodies and clothes. Like the two I had spied on that time. It took me a while to figure it out. But it does lead to a question, sir, I mean Bill."

"Oh? And that is?"

"How do you do it?"

"What, Sex?"

He nodded.

"Well, basically you do what ever feels good, and what ever your partner enjoys. I can give you all the books you want on the subject, but its something better shown then described, that's half the fun."

He looked at me with a mixture of curiosity, expectation, and something else I couldn't place.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you will not lack willing teachers once people get to know you better. I would suggest that you start with others your own age. You'll have more in common," I realized then that he was starting to fixate on me, I could see some others taking advantage of these kids when they first went out into the population. Another problem I'd have to be sure to flag to corporate in my report or I'm sure there would be other unpleasant consequences. For now I'd just make sure there were a lot of people about after we left so he would be more socialized. I'd also make sure there were enough in his own 'age' group as well, to give him some peers to interact with.

"But that's not a topic for today; you should have time to figure out your own mind after you've met some more people." I rolled out of bed then and stood up stretching. "Plus it's almost eight and we have a great deal to do today. Especially if we want to get out of here by six."

"Get out of here?" he blinked.

"Yup, we’ve got places to go and things to do. I don't live here you know, and now you don't either."

"But, but... but where do I belong then..." His voice faded out and he sounded once again like the young, very young, man he still was.

I walked over to him, as he sat on the bed looking lost.

"You belong with me, you work for me now. You'll live at my place for the time being, and if you pass your courses, you'll go with me when I head back out."

"Back out?" his ears perked up.

"Yes, back out, to space. I captain a small exploration vessel for the company. You're going to be a member of my crew."

"Wow..." was all he could say.

"You like the idea?" I asked, bemused.

"Oh yes! In the books they used to give me, there were all sorts of space travel and aliens and all that!"

I thanked God for small miracles, but then I'd expect scientists and such to have lots of sci-fi around.

"I always wanted to be able to go to those places, so I could find a place where I would fit in..." his voice got small again.

"Well don't worry on that part. Do a good job, show the folks who are paying for all this that you were a good idea, and before you know it, you'll have a lot of brothers, sisters and cousins all around."

He nodded then, thinking for a moment, "I'd like that, I really would." He looked up at me and smiled, "I'll do my best, I promise!"

I smiled and gave him another hug, "I know you will."

 

Jeidyn purred so loud then that I felt like a kid again. I had no doubts now that he'd be a safe and loyal member of my crew. He wasn't really all that different under the skin then anyone else, except of course that he was company property and company built. I finally understood what George had been trying to say to me, only he couldn't find the words.

We were in the slavery business once again, like it or not. The human race had left slavery alone a long long time ago, but we needed these morphs now, we needed the help to expand or we'd die here. As one of the ones in the front of this juggernaut I realized I had better do everything I could to try and set this on the right path, or when the Day of Judgment came there would be one hell of a price tag to pay.

"What are you thinking about Bill?" Jeidyn asked, getting up and stretching again.

"Something my dad told me, back when I was thinking of learning the family business."

"Oh? What was that?"

"Treat your charges firmly, fairly, and with respect. Don't abuse them, and always set their needs before your own. Otherwise they'll lash out, and you'll probably die."

"Wow. what did your father do?" he asked blinking.

"Trained lions for the circus, still does. Maybe someday I'll introduce you."

He just stared at me.

 

New Beginnings

by John Van Stry

 

I slicked my fur down, stepping from the shower and heading over to the dryer. The hot air was soothing as it blew over me, my mind wandering to the tasks of the day ahead. I took a few more minutes taking care of the usual morning tasks, then grabbed my shorts and gear and headed off to the bar.

I nodded to the waitress as I came in the front and slipped behind the bar, then nodded to Sam.

“Afternoon Jack,” he said to me, “ready to take on the night shift?”

“As always,” I chuckled, “had a rough day of dealing with the dregs of society?”

He laughed at that. The Legacy was about as quiet a place as it came, especially during the day. With a location in the heart of the business district, it was mostly white collar beer drinkers during the day. At night it picked up a little, office workers like to have fun too, but a yelling match was about the worst I’d ever seen in my 3 months here.

“Oh I tell you, I’ve suffered the trials of the dammed I have!” he went on in mock theatrics. “The trials of the dammed! Oh the fights, the arguments, the very risk to life and limb!”

“That bad huh?” I snickered.

“Worse,” he sighed, “I think the big excitement came when someone spilled their beer today. Isn’t that right Doris?” he raised his voice at the last to attract the attention of the waitress, a rather nice springer spaniel, who was working her way through college on the tips.

“Oh give it a rest you,” she shook her head coming over to talk with us. “Quiet is good. The tips are great, the customers are decent. Even the night crowd is well behaved. Go work a fight bar if you want some excitement.”

“Hell no! I’m not that crazy...” he said and dropped his apron behind the register. “Well it’s all yours Jack.”

I nodded and put on my own apron and checked out the patrons at the bar and in the dozen booths, all regulars. “Have a good one Sam, see you round.”

Doris
turned to me as he left, “I don’t hear you complaining about it being quiet in here.”

“Course not, I like it this way. Relaxing.” I smiled.

“Well I don’t know if I’d call it relaxing during the dinner rush.” She smiled back and returned to waiting her tables.

For the next several hours it was a fairly typical night, after the dinner rush the cook closed down the kitchen and headed home.
Doris
stayed till nine, it was a Wednesday so the crowd wasn’t that big. By ten it was pretty much the usual crowd, about fifteen people, all of whom I knew by name. I was cleaning glasses and popping the odd item in the microwave for whoever wanted a snack while listening to the present topic of conversation. They were talking firearms tonight, discussing the merits of different handguns mainly.

“I like the Glocks” said
Harvey
, a slightly hyper skunk. “They’re just so cool, with all that plastic and alloy. They’re just neat.”

“I don’t know, I think they’re over rated. I prefer the Smith and Wesson’s. Less jamming with a revolver.”

That was Sal, a
Labrador
who worked in the securities trade. The rest all weighted in with their different opinions. Bill, the Rottwieller liked Ruger blackhawks. Jeff and George, two cougars who I suspected were rather familiar both sided with
Harvey
, getting specific by voicing their round of choice, 9mm. Jill, Mike and Nick really didn’t seem to be taking much of a side on anything yet. I noticed their mugs were empty and gave them each a refill. That got them back in the conversation shortly.

“What about you Jack?” Asked
Harvey
, he was usually the one who dragged me into these things. I think it took him about a month to realize I wasn’t going to kill him, after that he had a tendency to hang on to me at times. I guess he just had a fascination with panthers.

“What about me Harvey?” I asked grinning.

He looked exasperated. “What gun do you prefer? You seem to always have an opinion on things.”

I laughed, “Well having an opinion is a bartender's job you know.”

“Only you seem to enjoy that part more then most....” Added Nick, his silver foxtail flicking against Jill’s redder one.

“Guilty as charged,” I grinned, I enjoyed these inane conversations. “Well, for handguns, I guess it all depends on what you’re gonna use it for.”

“In general,” said
Harvey
, “just in general, what do you like.”

“Well in general I guess I’d just have to go with the colt 1911.”

“But that’s so
old
!”

I shrugged, “It got that way for a reason. Parts are plentiful, ammo is common, they’re easy to clear, and it’ll knock the biggest tiger, lion, bear, or bull flat on his ass. And they won’t be getting up quickly either I might add.”

“Oh pu-lease” whispered George, and Bill nodded in agreement.

“Hey, he asked.” I grinned and pointed at
Harvey
.

They then went into a long discussion on stopping power and other such things, most of them seemed to be sold on 9mm. Though Sal was defending .357 magnums pretty well. I added a few things when asked. For the most part I don’t think they really valued my opinion, but I didn’t care. The city was pretty safe, especially this part. None of these guys, or gal, probably owned a gun anyway.

They all drifted off about 11. Except
Harvey
. He hung around a bit later then the rest.

“Why do you always say things like you know from personal experience? The others think you’re just a braggart.”

I looked at him and had to smile, “Then why is it one of you are always so quick to ask?”

“Because they think it’s funny. Like the martial arts stuff you said last week. Jeff and George both work out pretty regularly, and they found some of what you said hard to believe.”

“Actually I think they said it was Bullshit.” I chuckled again, wiping the bar down.

“You
heard
them?” He gaped.

“Hey, alcohol hurts the senses, and while you all are sucking down the beers, I’m sober back here. Your whispers tend to be a tad loud.” I snickered.

He kind of blushed then. I guess he did have a thing going for me after all. “Why didn’t you do anything then?”

“Why should I? I don’t care what you guys think. I enjoy chipping in to the little bull sessions when asked. I have to admit I get a kick out of what you think. But that’s about it.” I looked up at him into his eyes. He shrank back a bit, so I smiled to make him relax.

“But still...”

“But nothing.” I cut him off lightly, “I’m not here to worry about what the patrons think.”

“Then why are you here?” He asked looking very curious.

“Why to serve drinks, what else?” I laughed.

He finished his beer and left after that, looking very confused.

I closed the bar later that night, turning the chairs up and sweeping the floors before heading out. It was a quiet stroll home through the empty city streets. Very peaceful.

 

Friday night was busy, busier than normal. We had a band in, some kind of three piece local electric folk band. Jane, the weekend bartender was in to help, and
Doris
was running around trying to keep up with the demand. We had the full group of regulars of course, and about another couple dozen for the band. It was loud and busy, and the band was pretty good. Their music was pretty fast with a strong beat. It got the blood pumping and the beers flowing, business was pretty good.

As the night wore on I had to settle a few disputes. Nothing major, but some of the newcomers were pushing the edge of acceptable behavior. I’m big enough that when I stand between two people and give a little push with a growl, that they tend to get the message.  One Lion gave me some problems twice and I told him third time I’d toss him out if he didn’t tone it down. He harrumphed a bit at me, but he did behave better after that.

When the band finally packed up and left at ten, I was fairly happy to see them and about half the crowd go. But it was still fairly busy. My regulars were holding their typical court down at one end of the bar.

I was just popping a pizza out of the microwave when the commotion started. That same lion had started in again, only now he was picking on Jeff and George. From the tone of it, it seemed he disapproved of their lifestyle, narrow minded sort I guess. But it was starting to get physical, and while there were two of them, he was probably as heavy as the both of them combined, and a good foot taller than either. The rest of the group didn’t look inclined to get involved, being all office types, I wasn’t surprised. The lion could sense they were all unsure, and he was pressing his advantage. It was obvious he
was
exactly the rough and tumble type they weren’t.

I took off my apron with a sigh and vaulted the bar; this was going to take more then a stern voice this time.

“...fucking faggot’s” he was saying as I walked up behind him.

“YOU,” I said loudly from behind him. “OUT!
NOW
!”

He turned on me rather quickly, I could see he was spoiling for a fight, he had his weight balanced and his hands were up already.

“What the fuck do
you
want?” he growled.

“You the hell out of my bar. Now.” I said keeping my voice even.

“You standing up for these prissy’s?” he laughed looking down at me.

“Yea. Now you can either walk out, or be carried out. Your choice.” I moved closer to him, I knew what his choice was going to be already. Some folks are just too easy to read.

He swung at me then, I slipped out of the way, and slid in kicking his knee hard while giving him a punch to the sternum. He grunted and tried for a grab. I blocked and dodged back, drawing him more to the center of the room as the crowd cleared.

He charged, but came up short with a feint, giving a combo of wheel kicks that continued to move me back. I gave ground a little, then shoved a chair in his way. When he paused to deal with that I came in and gave a flurry to his chest, then gave him an uppercut to the chin as I slid back out. He roared and closed, swinging fast and furious, but still in control of his senses. I couldn’t slip or dodge them all and started blocking as well.

He kept pressing, so I dropped to a knee and gave a hard combo to his crotch at point blank range, then turned and drove a knuckle shot into the side of his thigh with all my might. He screamed and I jumped up, kicking him in the face as he caught me in the side of the head with a solid hit.

I backed away, he was on one knee. I came in again, kicked the knee that was up and did a round house combo to his head and jumped back before he could do more then trade a light blow or two. He started to get up slowly then, so I spun in, and landed a spinning heel kick to his face, which I followed with a bar stool. He went down.

And stayed there.

“Asshole” I mumbled, leaning over to make sure he was still breathing. I grabbed him by the belt and bodily hoisted him up; he sure was a heavy sucker. Walked over to the door and tossed him out onto the pavement. Next I went and got some ice and slapped it against my face after putting my apron back on. That was about when I noticed the bar was still quiet, except for some whispers.

“I’m sorry about that folks. But we don’t appreciate people starting fights in the bar. Next round’s on the house.”

That got them moving, though they were still a tad stunned. Harvey, Bill, George, Jeff and the rest all looked very shocked. And I felt very guilty.

“Where’d you learn to fight like that?” Jane asked, she had stayed late to help with closing.

“Oh, I’ve been around.” I replied, pressing the ice in so I wouldn’t get a lump.

“Obviously,”
Harvey
piped in.

I looked over at him and shrugged, “Couldn’t let him go beat up my customers, and friends, could I?”

BOOK: Shorts: The Furry Years
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