The Prisoner's Release and Other Stories (2 page)

Sasha had probably just forgotten to see Van Wyck in his rush to get home through the streets of Divalia to his family. Jonas yawned, and then snapped his muzzle shut with a snap when he opened the door to his room and found the mouse sitting on the edge of his bed.

“
Sasha?”

Sasha was holding his head in his paws and rocking back and forth on the edge of the bed. He was wearing his nicest clothes and several of the gaudy rings he liked to buy, but he didn’t look elegant or showy. He looked like a terrified mouse lost in a fashionable person’s laundry pile.

“
Jonas, I can’t,” he squeaked. “I can’t do it.”

“
Can’t do what?” Jonas’s tail lashed as he padded across the small room and sat on the bed.

“
I can’t go back in there. Not Van Wyck. He’ll see, and that’ll be it. I can get it fixed, I can get it cured, I just need, I just need some time.” Now he turned to Jonas and his dark eyes were large. “You won’t tell Tally, will you? Please?”

The fur on Jonas’s shoulders prickled. “Get what cured?”

Sasha shook his head and moaned. “I didn’t see until it was over, and I was so careful because he was another mouse, and that’s the only way you catch things, you know. But I didn’t see until it was too late. Oh, Jonas, please say you won’t tell Tally. He’d never let me come back.”

“
You got…?”

Tears were already soaking Sasha’s cheeks. He nodded. “I need to see a doctor, for a few days, kitten. But I’ll be back. Just tell Tally, tell Tally that it was a family emergency, that I won’t be back for a couple weeks, that I’m very sorry.”

“
Sasha, if you’re…” Despite himself, Jonas edged away from Sasha. He knew he couldn’t catch a disease from the mouse, especially just by sitting next to him, but his fur was already nearly standing on end and he wanted to run out and wash in the communal bathroom.

“
Thank you, kitten.” Sasha patted his knee. “You’ll see. I’ll be back and all better in no time. I promise. I’m really sorry about this. I’ll make it up to you.” The last few words spilled out in a rush, and at the end of them Sasha squeaked again as though he’d said something wrong. He jumped to his feet, rings clinking together, waved to Jonas, and disappeared through the open door. Jonas heard the staff entrance door clack shut a moment later.

Disease. He knew that he had to watch out for whitemouth, but that was only transmitted through bites. Some of his customers liked to bite, and he’d bled a few times, but Tally had herbs on hand that he claimed would protect against whitemouth. There were other diseases, venereal ones, that one could only get from one’s own species or Family. Before he’d been allowed to start working, Jason had been thoroughly educated in all of this by Tally, and had met Kitta, a blind, syphilitic fox who’d worked at the Staff years ago and hadn’t been careful. Now he worked in a weaver’s shop and his paws were cracked and bleeding because he couldn’t see to keep them out of the way of the shuttles.

Jonas had taken the lesson to heart. After his first year, he’d learned to look for signs of disease discreetly, and he’d done so without fail. He couldn’t fathom how Sasha had let his guard down, especially with another mouse.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and a moment later Pike’s masked muzzle came into view. He stepped into the room and gestured back towards the main building. “You better not miss Van Wyck this week. Tally’ll kill you.”

Jonas nodded, getting up from the bed. The raccoon was also naked, but where Jonas was kept modest by his fur, the organ that had given the raccoon his nickname was on full display. Jonas gestured down and grinned. “You should put that thing away before you hurt someone.”

Pike leered up at the taller cougar. “You got somewhere for me to put it?”

“
Go take another client.”

The raccoon snorted. “I’ll be in the lounge.”

It sometimes mystified Jonas how Pike could be so relentlessly randy. Some nights (like tonight), if Jonas hadn’t come all night, he wanted something quick to get him off. Most nights he just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep. The staff lounge often saw casual sexual activity, sometimes before a staffer went on shift, to relieve any pressure, and sometimes after, if he needed relaxation. They called it training, and occasionally it was that, but more often it was a chance for them to be intimate without pressure or obligation.

Alicar had gone back to sleep on his sofa, but this time Jonas didn’t wake him. He walked back to the back room (empty, to his relief), and then into Tally’s office.

The smell wasn’t the worst of Van Wyck. The herbal, medicinal odor was no worse than the smells on the patrons that Jonas got pressed into his fur every night. And the room wasn’t hard on his eyes. It was very bright—Van Wyck kept four oil lamps lit—and the walls were bare, but he didn’t mind that. What he hated most was just being in this room, lying on the raised bed against the far wall while the weasel’s paws measured and shaped his fur.

The weasel was at his cabinet, washing his paws in a basin and washing some of the silver instruments he kept in a black case. “Hello, Jonas. Please lie down.”

Jonas nodded without saying anything and walked over to the bed. He could smell Pike on it as he lay down, and Alicar, and Richy. Everyone else who worked at the Staff, in fact, except Sasha. He wondered how long it had been since Sasha’d been seen.

“
How are you feeling, hm?” The weasel was gathering some tools, but still over at his cabinet.

“
Fine.”

“
No coughing? Blurred vision? Running nose, trouble hearing? Muscular cramps?”

“
No.”

“
Any sores, itches, swelling, unexplained pain?”

“
No.”

“
All right. Let’s see your fur.”

Jonas closed his eyes. Moments later, the weasel’s paws were patting every inch of him, trimming the fur here and there, rubbing some herbal-smelling lotion into some of the areas. It was all the cougar could do to keep from flinching as the paws and scissors attacked his ears, his whiskers, his cheek ruffs, his neck…but he gritted his teeth, waiting for it to end.

End it did, but the examination and grooming of his back and arms was not much more relaxing. And then his tail, which he absolutely could not keep from lashing (“this would be easier if you would stay still,” Van Wyck complained, as he always did), and then under his tail, where the weasel pushed the fur apart gently and brushed Jonas’s tail hole with a cold metal probe. When that examination was complete, the scissors trimmed fur from his sac and the inside of his thighs, and Jonas opened his eyes then to stare at the wall and pretend he were someplace else.

“
Turn over, please.” He paused as long as he thought he could get away with and then rolled onto his back. The paws and scissors trimmed his chest fur, groomed lines into his stomach (“breathe in…hold it…”), and evened the fur on his sheath. The whole process made him feel like a living toy, an exhibit with no free will of his own. Van Wyck never asked him how he wanted his fur; he groomed it in accordance with Tally’s orders, and Jonas never had a choice. He envied Richy’s bushy tail fur, Alicar’s longer body fur, and Pike’s fluffy cheek ruffs, but he was never given the chance to grow his fur, or to dye it like Tally did. His fur was always short and trim, showing off his muscles.

“
Almost done.” The weasel set the tools down on a small table to the side, and picked up a linen cloth. “Just one more thing. Please try to cooperate.”

His small paws rubbed at Jonas’s sheath, and Jonas sighed. He tried to think of erotic images, but as usual, his mind refused to cooperate. He imagined Pike sliding into him from behind, but his mind skittered away to recall the crushing weight of the bear on top of him. Finally, he thought of Van Wyck as a client, and his instincts took over, focusing warmth at his sheath and pushing his stiffening member out into the air.

Van Wyck grasped it gently in the cloth and lifted it, examining both sides. “No sores, no pain while working or urinating?”

“
No.” Jonas stared at the ceiling.

“
All right. You can go.” Van Wyck gathered his instruments, hopped down from the stool he’d been standing on, and walked over to the cabinet, washing his paws in the basin again.

“
Thanks.” Jonas got up and padded quickly to the door.

“
See you next week,” the weasel called after him. He grumbled in reply.

Nobody was in the back room, though Jonas saw by the board that Richy and Ishel, a rabbit, were now off as well. He lingered by the door of the main room, attracted by the scents of desire that filled it. Back in the corridors and the private rooms, the scents were of lust and mating, and Jonas had his fill of those. Desire was more enticing, so he occasionally let himself sample it. He didn’t linger long tonight, because there were other things on his mind.

When he walked back into the lounge, it was just as dark as it had been, but Richy and Pike now lay in the light of the single lamp. Richy was bobbing his muzzle up and down in Pike’s lap, and Jonas could see the glistening of Pike’s member reflect the lamplight when the young wolf slid up. On the opposite side of the room, Alicar’s eyes reflected the light, shining greenly in the shadows.

“
Hey, Jonas,” Pike said. “Richy says he can get us both in his muzzle at once. Wanna call him on it?”

Richy didn’t react, but Jonas was sure the wolf had said nothing of the sort. He flicked his tailtip and walked through the room. “Another time.”

Behind him, he heard Pike’s voice, and then the click of claws on wood. He hurried to his door, but the raccoon caught him before he could go inside.

“
What’s with you, anyway?”

“
Nothing. I just don’t feel like being part of a threesome, okay? Been a long night.”

The raccoon slid the paw down to his tail, and Jonas angled his hips away. “All right, all right,” said Pike. “I’m just trying to be nice, you know. You always disappear with Sasha or else go straight to bed, and I can see you’re still all tense from the night and Van Wyck. Thought you might like a little fun to help you relax.”

“
You thought wrong.” But still he hesitated. Of all the people still about, Pike was the oldest and the most likely to know what he wanted. And though he hated to admit it, he
was
still tense and wouldn’t mind some release before bed.

“
Oh, come on. Out there it’s work. Here it’s fun, it’s for us. And besides,” the raccoon purred, “I’m better than any of your clients.”

As unlikely as it seemed, the words were arousing him. He felt a heat in his groin and his erection, which had faltered since Van Wyck had summoned it, was gaining life again. Jonas didn’t understand why he was responding like that until he glanced down and saw Pike’s paw brushing him so softly he only registered the arousal, not the touch. He should pull away, he thought, but his body ignored his mind.

“
So?” Pike grinned, showing the tips of his canines in the lamp light from Jonas’s room. His paw slid down Jonas’s sheath and cupped his balls. “The thought of sitting in ol’ Pike’s lap sounding better to you?”

Jonas turned, backed up, and sat on the bed. “Just paws,” he said, spreading his legs. “I’ll do you and you do me.”

“
Hell, I could get that in the lounge,” Pike said, but he stepped forward anyway.

“
And close the door.”

The raccoon grinned. “You’re so cute when you’re shy.” He eased the door closed with a paw and came to the bed.

To Jonas’s surprise, Pike didn’t lunge right for his sheath. He put his arms around the cougar and nuzzled his chest, then gave his muzzle a small lick. Jonas returned the caresses automatically, then allowed himself to relax a bit. The foreplay didn’t last long, but Jonas enjoyed it, and after Pike’s gentle paw had reached down to Jonas’s full erection, Jonas didn’t mind closing his paw around the raccoon’s thick shaft and stroking in return.

He barely noticed when Pike stopped stroking him, as he’d let himself become attuned to Pike’s breathing and body language, the way he did with his clients. But as when he was with Sasha, he was able to appreciate the communion more because there was no responsibility. He didn’t know Pike as well as he did Sasha, but he’d been working alongside the raccoon for a couple years, and he got a vicarious thrill when Pike shuddered against his paw and came.

“
You’re pretty good yourself,” Pike panted, and kissed Jonas on the nose. He rubbed his paw over Jonas’s and then curled it around Jonas’s erection, rubbing slickly up and down. The musky scent and the slickness of the paw felt lovely, enticing Jonas to let himself go, and so he did, basking in the sensations. When he came, it felt good, so that for a moment he forgot he was with Pike and not Sasha.