He was wearing a suit, and a tasteful silver name badge that read CONNER and sported a small Union Jack. He looked impersonally at Firefox.
"You Chili?" he asked.
"Yes," Firefox agreed.
He paused a moment, waiting for her to add a "sir." She didn't give him the satisfaction; instead, she just stood, watching him expectantly. Firefox was about to add a "sir" when something rebelled inside her. To hell with it. Since they were on the Floor, in the elegant, tasteful neighborhood, she doubted he'd get abusive. Much better to let it slide.
"Come with me," he ordered, pointing to the door.
"Yes, sir," she agreed with a nod. No sense in pushing it.
She stepped out, holding the door for him. "Where are we going?" she asked casually, looking around. The trick to infiltration in plain sight, she thought, is looking and acting as though you have every right to be where you are.
"Room 1015," he replied.
She nodded. "I can find it," she said.
"Rules say that red collars have to be escorted," he replied.
She shrugged. "Suit yourself. You new here? I don't think I've seen you before." She saw a sign for the main lobby, turned to follow it up a staircase. That was a slight risk. It was very possible he wasn't new here. Still, she sensed something uncertain in him, like a new officer wearing his bars for the first time. As long as she didn't do anything too obviously wrong, he would probably follow her lead. The main lobby would obviously have signs and an elevator bank. And she could get a sense of the layout without arousing suspicion.
She could smell gun oil and cordite on him. The scent was delicate, not unappealing. He didn't stink of it; he had showered with Irish Spring since his last visit to the shooting gallery. He either carried a pistol, or practiced with one. She suspected he was packing. And that couldn't be right. Blue Diamond, like any other prison, would never allow a guard to carry a gun in these circumstances, where she take him out and get it. No, he was doing it against the rules. Good to know.
His voice clouded. She smiled to herself. "I've been here long enough," he said.
As she had hoped, he followed her, trustingly. There had to be a serious disconnect somewhere, she suspected. In fact, it seemed so blatantly wrong that she wondered if they were giving her rope to hang herself. This was the first time she had walked in the corridors without a leash, chained hands, and a hobble.
She glanced back at him, looking slightly amused; an old hand's reaction to a newbie.
"No doubt," she agreed, respectful but still with a touch of laughter in her voice.
At the top of the stairs, she waited for him and memorized the signs. A man in a robe walked by, hair wet and smelling of chlorine; back from his swim. She watched him with frank and flattering interest; he walked a little straighter when he felt her eyes on him. She let the tip of her tongue slip out of her mouth, as though she was appraising him as a potential bedmate, not as a client. He smiled a little and she looked at the signs: Pool, Arcade, Meeting Rooms, Restaurant, Lobby.
It had only taken a second or two. Give the customer a little thrill, make him think she was in it for fun. He'd be a bit less likely to have her tied up, maybe. Conner came up behind her, and she started walking towards the main lobby. Her nostrils flared, her nose glistened wet as she added scent and sight to the growing map in her head.
The main lobby smelled of the sea. The sun was just coming up, and a dawn's breeze was wafting in through the open door. She blinked with surprise at that, but of course it had been a long night's work.
A monorail car was a few meters from the front door, under a concrete roof that would give shelter from rain. The car was at the end of the line, and what she could see of the rail was angled sharply downwards to the right. An illuminated sign cycled through different languages: Boat to Mainland, it read in English. There were four people on line to the registration desk.
Well, that was about as straightforward as it got. The hotel was high up from the ocean, high enough that guests didn't want to make the walk, but not so far that light rail was impractical. Firefox noticed that one or two of the hotel staff were eyeing her suspiciously; maybe because she was a red collar out without a leash. So, she put a big smile on her face and walked to the guests on line.
"Welcome to Blue Diamond," she said brightly, giving each a hug in turn. Nothing suspicious about that, surely. Embarrassed smiles and chuckles as the nearly naked fox slave greeted them. "We all hope you enjoy your stay."
"What's your name?" one asked.
"Chili," she replied, "Pardon me." Conner followed her to the bank of elevators, and she hit the UP button.
One opened almost immediately, and they stepped in. Fifteen floors up -- no, sixteen. There was a 13A and 13B. Casino, she guessed: gamblers considered the 13th floor lucky. Ground Floor, and below that, B1 and B2.
"Did they tell you who my client is?" she asked.
"No," Conner replied. "Just the room number."
"Uhm," she frowned. "I hate it when they do that."
"What difference does it make?" he asked.
She blinked at him, as though surprised by the question. "Do I go in happy, sultry, or crawling to my master?" she asked rhetorically. Yes, that would probably convince him that she had done this before. And he might relax around her. "A good entrance is important," she improvised. It sounded reasonable.
"Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, completely fooled.
"Did they give you any toys for me?" she asked.
"No, I'm afraid not." He was a bit taken aback, squicked, as though it had never occurred to him that the job might involve something like that. Firefox nodded blandly and looked away before he could see the broad smile on her face.
The signs made it easy to pretend she had been here before and knew the way. So she led him down to room 1015.
"You might not want to stand so close, sir," she suggested. "You might embarrass the guest."
"Oh, right," he said, and took several steps away. She knocked on the door and waited. Her ears swiveled forward, and she broke into a sincere grin.
"Hi, Milton," she said happily, leaning forward to kiss him.
He closed the door behind her, and she slipped out of her top. He turned and blinked.
"Don't you want to talk first?" he asked, with mock indignation.
"No," she replied, undressing him and dropping his shirt on the floor. Her hands shook as she undid his belt, letting his erection free of its restraints. She stared at it, overcome with fascination. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to stare at it, hold it, taste it.
She went to her knees and took him into her mouth, savoring the feel of him against her tongue, the taste and scent of his sweat. She held it in her hand and licked his tightening scrotum. She panted for a moment, and looked up at him.
"I want you," she said softly. "I want you to come into me fast and hard. I want to feel your seed in me right away. We can play later, but right now I just want that. Okay?" She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against his penis.
"Quick sex with a beautiful woman," he said dubiously. "I dunno -- that's asking a lot of any guy."
"I should remind you that my teeth are very close to your family jewels," Firefox pointed out politely, grinning.
He carried her, laughing, to the bed, stepping out of his pants as he went. She kept her tail against his erection, rubbing it lightly as he carried her. He put her on her back, and she took him in her hand and guided him into herself, sighing softly as he shifted his weight onto her.
He looked deeply into her eyes. "I can't believe you're doing this for me," he whispered, hoarsely.
She shook her head. "It's for me," she said. She pulled him tightly against her, chin on her shoulder, her chin on his. He started to move inside her, and her long legs and arms wrapped around him, cradling his flesh against soft fur. She closed her eyes, and whispered into his ear.
"I'm so glad it was you," she whispered to him. "I love being in your bed, I love the way you feel inside me." She licked his ear. "I'm lucky to have a man like you to look forward to, to hope for. I'd do anything for you, can you believe that?"
He kissed her, hard, silencing her. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, his body inside hers twice. She gasped and clutched him closer, wishing she could somehow pull him even tighter inside her, some animal side of her desperate for his penetration into the most private parts of herself.
And he must have sensed her desperate need; she watched and smiled as he tensed and came into her, impregnating her, gifting her. He fell against her, exhausted.
"I'm sorry," he apologized.
"You gave me what I asked for, and I asked for what I needed," she assured him. "You think I'm too shy to complain?" she asked, and licked him gently. "So you owe me an orgasm. I can collect later."
"Blue Diamond says that tomorrow, they'll be providing three models for a jungle princess shoot. They provided pictures, but not their real names. You, Technofox, and a third vulpine model they called 'Noir.'"
"That's Shadowfox," Firefox said, relieved. "She told me they were using that for her a while ago."
"We won't be going outside, I'm afraid," he said. "I floated the pictorial as 'Fox Queen of the Pacific Deciduous Forest' but they wanted to go with a jungle. So we've been given one of the rumpus rooms instead. It's sort of a greenhouse."
"I would have liked to go outside," Firefox said wistfully. "Still, that's not a problem. Did Doctor Clayton get in touch with you?"
She was half expecting bad news, she suddenly realized. That was why she had practically assaulted him -- she wanted a quick, fun fuck before her spirit crashed. In a way, it was good to know that she could still think of sex as fun.
He smiled and nodded. "If you'll let me go, I'll show you."
She chuckled and let him disentangle himself. He went over to his laptop, and brought up an email, so Firefox could confirm it was Shadowfox.
Then he pushed a release that ejected a memory card from the built-in reader. Firefox recognized it immediately: it was a disguised case for smuggling hardcoded program chips. Inside, there were two chips, each the size of a small fingernail.
"These came by courier," he explained. "They are programmed with an attack script and intrusion software updates for Shadowfox's implant. A primary and a backup in case the first doesn't boot."
We're going to destroy Blue Diamond. Brave words, but they were words. Firefox didn't regret them, but she knew that if it came to it ... she'd compromise with her friends' freedom.
Still, she didn't have a plan yet. A plan could only be made after she knew her capabilities.
"What, exactly, does the software do?" Firefox asked.
" I'm told it makes you four super-users," he said. "Authorized to open any door with an automated lock. Effectively, the security system will assume you have access through any door."
"Nice," she said thoughtfully. "Does it add any back doors?"
"Yes. After you have authorization, you will be able to invert authorization. Basically, the security system will become convinced that any slaves have guard rights, while any guards get slave rights."
Firefox smiled broadly. "Wow," she said. "That's almost biblical, isn't it?"
"Funny -- I was thinking the same thing," he agreed.
She was already thinking of how to use the capability the software would give them. It would be an enormous advantage, obviously -- but it wouldn't instantly provide victory either. The guards would be unable to use any equipment that needed security interlocks, like doors. But nightsticks didn't have security interlocks.
"You better keep that, for now," she said. "Did he send you any equipment?"
"Just a magnetic lockpick," he said. "Like you asked for."
"Good." She held the lockpick: it came in a small cylinder, thin and as long as her thumb. It contained a set of magnets that could be used to duplicate a magnet key -- Firefox and Technofox already knew the sequences for their own collars. Shadowfox would get hers when Tigre removed her collar for tomorrow's shoot. That would only leave Silverfox.
She wondered how she could conceal it. She thought about inserting it in her vagina. No, they're less likely to spot it if I carry it in my hand. She chuckled slightly before laying it on the table.
"He also said there was a safe house ready for you in San Diego, and that you would know where it was," Jamison said.
"Yes, I do," she assured him. The company had a deal with the Imperial hotel chain -- employees on assignment could register as guests and the computers would give access to special rooms. Hotel employees might not even know this, but as long as the security systems did, that wouldn't be a problem.
"And one more thing," he said, and hesitated. "He wants to add a complication."
Firefox blinked rapidly. "A complication?" she asked.
"Yes." He brought up a picture of a girl with black hair, dark skin, and sharp features. A humanoid model, not one that Firefox recognized. "You're supposed to get this girl out if you can."
So now they had to get two slaves out, in addition to themselves? Firefox studied the picture for a long time. "I don't know her," she said finally.
Jamison shrugged. "Well, that's between you and him. He did say something about a bonus, though."
"What the hell is he thinking?" she asked, cross. "As long as we're breaking out of a prison, pick up milk on your home? He should be focusing on getting our tails out."
"I'd think so," Jamison agreed.
Firefox nodded. "I assume he sent an email for my eyes only?"
"Yes." He pushed the laptop in her direction. "You can see I didn't read it, at least not on this machine."
Of course, she realized, that was easy to trick. All he needed to do was leave the message on the server and read it through webmail or on another machine. Still, she had no reason to distrust him.
Or did she?
Suppose, for instance, he was afraid that Firefox would decide to break only one other slave out. Who would they choose -- Saffron or the chimera worth a bounty? After all, his leverage over them vanished the moment they got out. He could hardly turn them back over to Blue Diamond, especially given that the sale was probably illegal in the first place.
"I'll keep an eye out for her," Firefox said, trying to sound disinterested, "but she's a secondary objective at best. Getting the five of us out will be hard enough."
"So Saffron's a priority?" he asked, quietly.
Firefox went silent for a moment.
"One thing about this job," she said. "Your word's important. Milton, I give you my word that I will try to bring Saffron back to you. I can't promise I'll succeed. I won't lie to you. But as far as I'm concerned, your pay is Saffron, and I'll do all I can to get her out."
He smiled and patted her hand.
She opened the email from Clayton, without asking Jamison to turn away. She hoped that would look more open and friendly. But if he wanted to, he had already read the email.
The body section was just a repeat of what Jamison had already told her, except he brought up the possibility of having a boat meet them. It would be tough to arrange a rendezvous when Firefox couldn't even rely on knowing the date.
She looked unhappily at the header for the email. It was one of those obnoxious corporate logos, embedded into the message. Except there was some chance that it was the message. Data could be encoded directly into the image, and decoded using the protocol in her implant. Which, of course, was locked in a test mode and continually resetting itself.
Tomorrow, Shadowfox would be having her scalp sliced open and Technofox would be trying to fix and upgrade her implant. And frankly, Firefox envied her. She had lived with that tool for so long that being without it was a real difficulty.
She looked back at the picture of the chimera they were supposed to get out. The bounty was nice, good enough for an expensive vacation -- but there was something odd about it. She was young, younger than any of the women Firefox had noticed here. Almost, but not quite, pubescent. And while Technofox was getting a lot of "schoolgirl" business, the fox was still pretty clearly mature.
But the picture itself bothered her. She thought of pictures, of photographers, and of Saffron, and it suddenly hit her. The picture wasn't a triptych mug shot.
Jamison had shown her a picture of his wife, one he had taken in Africa. That was perfectly natural. But the company wasn't a man in love, proud of what made the girl a person. No, if a bland ID photo were available, they would use it instead.
And a triptych was made of every chimera to leave any factory.
"Do you think you recognize her?" he asked, a little too casually.
"No," Firefox said. "I just ... want to make sure I do if I see her."
No, she was certain, that was not a picture of a chimera. Even a forced-growth clone, possibly legally human, would have a triptych. The company would never rely on a snapshot to ID someone when a mugshot was available.
Perhaps it would have been harder for a human to recognize the girl in the picture. Humans relied so heavily on color in their vision, and lingering social artifacts like race. Firefox was trained to notice facial shape, the spacing of the eyes, and to ignore or bypass things like nasal shape and breasts and haircuts, so easy to alter with surgery or padding or a pair of scissors.
Yes, she knew the girl in the picture.
Take that young girl, add a few years. Make her hair blonde, cut it short and give it a bit of a punk style. Make her skin as pale as moonlight and china, sculpt a heavy pair of breasts. Cap her teeth for fangs.
Victoria was as sane as Firefox herself.
Firefox stared at the text of the message. Had there ever been a section that explained the woman they were looking for was a human? Had Jamison edited the message, afraid that even Firefox would put Saffron on the back burner if she knew a human woman were turned over to Blue Diamond?
Perhaps he had another motive she couldn't even guess at?
She smiled at him, at her lover, and wondered if he was a liar.
He rested his hands on her neck and shoulders and squeezed gently. "You seem a little stiff."
"It's been a hard day," she admitted. "Can you give me a backrub?"
"Sure. Would you like me to order some food?" he asked.
"Thanks." She paused. "This is going to sound silly, but I'd like some pretzels, and maybe something alcoholic."
"Okay," he said amiably. "Let's see what they have in the mini bar."
"And I'm sorry, but I was just working."
"And you'd like to sleep?"
She smiled slightly. "Yes."
"That's okay. We don't start taking pictures until five or so. I came in on the early boat, and I was up most of the night. I could use a nap too."
She opened the mini bar, and took out a small bottle of scotch. She unscrewed the top, and emptied half of it into her mouth. She went back to him, licked his lips open, and transferred some to him. She then took out a bottle of whisky and a package of pretzels and corn chips. They shared the food, and she poured a teaspoon of the whisky onto his belly, and licked it off.
She made love to him fiercely, hardly speaking. She didn't want to think, or talk, or plan; there was nothing but him inside her. She used her teeth and claws, exciting both of them. And when he was spent, and she was exhausted, he gently and chivalrously touched and tasted her to completion.
Blue Diamond had worn her down so completely, that the simple act of satisfying her made her weep. He held her gently, not speaking, while she clutched him and sobbed with the joy of knowing there was a man who didn't see her as something to empty himself into.
They didn't put it in words, because he understood without being told, and maybe because at the same time, he didn't want to think of what that meant for Saffron. They went to sleep that way, for the moment using one another's body to keep the dread of thought away.
Firefox dreamed of being in Africa with the white tiger and Jamison. It was one of those dreams which made no narrative sense, where the tiger was both Saffron and Tigre at the same time, an imagined, gentle lover and at the same time a cruel mistress; where Firefox was both terrified of the whip and at the same time, aware that she was free to leave at any time, where the battered old Hummer somehow contained a huge and comfortable bed, with a comforter made of a zebra pelt. Tigre, holding a riding crop, commanded her to make slow and gentle love to her own husband, ordering every move of her hands, her hips, and her tongue. The tiger nestled in behind her, and somehow he was able to penetrate the two of them at once, the man passing through the fox to enter his wife as well.
She woke, hungry and rested. He had draped a blanket over her naked body, the almost-instinctive Human gesture of comfort and care, so unnecessary for a woman in a climate-controlled room with fur. She half-opened her eyes, hovering uncertainly between feigning sleep and being asleep. Her ears twitched, listening for his breath and heartbeat, wondering if it might, in any way, be possible for that dream to come true, or if everything she shared with the two of them separately was simply a reaction to stress and the situation and it would wither away when her life returned to normal. Whether what Saffron and Jamison shared was too tight and too strong to admit a third, and that Jamison would never sleep nestled between a tiger and fox.
He was at his laptop, earplugs on, so he wouldn't disturb her. He wore a robe, and when she looked at him she saw he was wet from a shower. There was a coffee next to him, half empty.
Firefox slipped out of bed, and stepped up behind him. He wore earplugs, and she was moving as softly as a shadow. She couldn't help but stalk him, the childish delight in playing "peek-a-boo" working together with the altogether nastier thrill of hunting. She drew closer to him. He was reading an e-book, Guide to Photographing Wildlife, unaware he was in a room with some. She noticed that the coffee was almost room temperature, barely shining in infrared against its background.
She drew closer, her cold nose almost touching his neck. She extended her tongue slightly, playfully, barely tasting his skin. He lifted a hand absently as though to brush away a fly, and caught her chin with his fingertips. He started and she laughed, her voice low and playful.
He looked a bit rattled. "I'm sorry," she apologized, growing more serious.
"No, no, it's just --" he hesitated. "It's just that Saffron used to do the same. Is it a chimera thing?"
"Us predators, I think," she said lightly, slightly put out and maybe even jealous. "Nothing we love better than leaping on some meat animal."
His eyes were laughing as he looked at her. "Meat animal?" he asked. "Is that all I am to you?"
"Uh-huh," she assured him, draping herself around him and rolling into his lap. "You got some meat for me?" she asked. His eyes dropped to her breasts, and she felt something stir against her naked flank. "I think you do," she said softly.
"Do you want something to eat, first?" he asked, bringing the phone closer to him.
"Sure," she replied. "And then we can have lunch." She smiled.
"You... are incredible," he said softly, and a little sadly.
"How so?"
"You're so impossibly beautiful," he said, sitting her up on his lap, facing him. He ran his hands lightly over her, making her shudder with anticipation. "Even if you weren't brave, and smart, and strong, even if there were nothing to you but your body and your passion, you'd be the most -- one of the most desirable women I've ever seen." He moved his head down to her bosom and she lifted her breast for him. He hesitated. "Are you in love?" he asked, suddenly.
She paused. "I'm not really seeing anyone right now," she said, understanding what he meant. "Silverfox and I sleep together sometimes. But that's not an exclusive thing. There's another slave here, Victoria, who I think likes me. She's one of those homemaker types, I think -- she's looking for someone to settle down with."
How, she wondered, how can I tell him I think I'm in love with Tigre?
"Are they cruel here?" he asked, softly.
She knew he was asking for the sake of his wife. She closed her eyes for a long time, and slowly sighed. She took his face in her hands. "Very," she said softly. "I'm beaten every day, and sometimes I'm raped, and I've licked the floor and begged for sex from men I hate."
She saw his eyes soften and begin to brim with tears. He was about to say something, and she lay a gentle finger on his lips.
"And worse than that," she said, "is the memory of what we've done and said in a moment of fear, to protect ourselves, to buy a few minutes without a whip." She swallowed. "But all through that, I think of these hours I've spent with you, of the time we've had and the time we will have, and it gets me through the bad times, realizing that someone as special and as kind as you will share his bed with me. Saffron's truly blessed," she said shakily, "truly blessed to have someone like you to go home to."
He embraced her tightly, and somehow he kept from crying.
"I think I love you a little," he said.
She kissed his head. "That's good enough."
"It's time to go," he said softly.
Firefox nodded, rubbing her snout against his arm. "Okay. Can I use the bathrobe?"
"Sure," he said, pulling his pants on. "I'm sorry my slippers won't fit you." He touched the speakerphone on, and touched his finger to his lips. "Reservations? I'm Milton Jamison, and I have three models and a room reserved."
"You must be very energetic," she whispered.
He fought a chuckle. "Yes, sir," said the speakerphone. "Chili should be with you now. Noir and Candi are presently working a show in Theater One-Coco in the East Wing, with Tigre. It's running a little late. Our apologies for any inconvenience. If you'd like to catch the end, I'll be happy to authorize a pass for you."
"And for Chili?" he asked, as Firefox's jaw dropped. She was about to say something, but absurdly, hesitated -- he had ordered her to be quiet. That hadn't kept her from delivering a wisecrack, but this was different somehow -- this would be disobedience, instead of amusing her client. And she was shocked at herself when she realized that was actually a problem, that she needed to nerve herself to disobey him.
"Certainly, sir," the phone assured him.
"Thanks very much. That was 1-C, you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you. Goodbye."
He looked around at Firefox. "We shouldn't go," she said quietly.
"They'll expect us to, now," he said, puzzled. "Besides, I want to see Saffron."
"You don't want to see her like this."
He paused.
"Firefox, it's something I need to deal with," he said finally. "She's my wife and I have to know what happened to her."
"Let her tell you. Later."
He pressed his lips together. "This is something I wonder about every day, every night. I have a right to know for sure."
What could she say? Maybe he was even right.
"You'll have to lead me," she explained. "I'll follow behind you, like a good girl. It might help if you patted me from time to time. Do you have a leash for me?"
"Amazingly enough, no," he said dryly. "I have to say that isn't something I generally carry on a photo shoot."
"Well, then," she said, "I should carry some of your stuff. It'll look a lot better that way."
"If you say so," he said with a nod. He broke his equipment into two loads, and she took the bigger one, wondering desperately if she should try harder to keep him from seeing Tigre at work.
"Please be quiet, sir," the usher said in hushed tones, "And take seats in the back. The show is underway and we don't want to disturb the patrons." Firefox looked at a flatscreen display: the title was Half-tamed. Shadowfox was shackled, nude, her mouth nuzzling Tigre's throat. Tigre held a whip in the same hand he held the end of Shadowfox's leash. It was a nice poster, Firefox thought, and she wondered if Blue Diamond sold hard copies.
The usher didn't speak to Firefox, of course: her silence was taken for granted. He glanced at her curiously, just for a moment, and it seemed Firefox could read his mind: Well behaved for a red collar. She memorized his face and scent: she'd enjoy forcing that thought back down his throat, along with some broken teeth.
They went in. It was a small theater, about three quarters full. Instead of spreading themselves evenly through the theater, the audience was clustering far up; the last few rows were empty. Firefox steered them into seats in the middle, probably not the best seats they could have found. She didn't really want a good view.
Shadowfox had collapsed onto the stage. Her clothes were half-off, exposing her breasts and pubes. She was panting, but Firefox was relieved to see she didn't actually seem to be in pain. A shotgun mike somewhere was locked on Shadowfox, and its input was being mixed with other mikes before being sent to the sound system, which assured the audience that every gasp and cry would be clearly audible. The illusion was incredible; even Firefox's hearing was fooled.
The stage was brightly lit, the audience less so. The air was moving from the stage to the back of the auditorium, so Firefox was confident the women on stage would not see or scent them. But she could smell them, even over the soap and colognes and antiperspirants used by the washed and clean bodies in the audience.
Tigre was drawing Technofox to her feet by a leash. Technofox was still in the pleated skirt and blouse Firefox had seen her wearing on the floor. Technofox looked at Tigre fearfully. She was whispering softly, and it was boosted for the amusement of the audience: "No -- no -- no ..."
"You seem to think rather well of yourself," Tigre said softly.
"No, Ma'am," Technofox said immediately.
"What's your name, girl?"
"Candi," Technofox replied promptly.
"Good girl," Tigre said with a nod. "And do you have any other names, Candi?"
"I used to, ma'am."
Tigre jerked the leash. Technofox was yanked up on her toes, and gasped. "But not any more?"
"No, ma'am. Not any more."
"Good girl. Now, I'm going to ask you what you are now and then. You'll answer me and you won't repeat yourself. Understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What are you, Candi?"
"I'm dirt under your feet, ma'am," Technofox said in a monotone.
"I don't like the tone in your voice," Tigre said.
"I'm the dirt under your feet, ma'am," Technofox said with conviction.
"Good girl." Tigre said with a nod. She spun her riding crop, and Technofox flinched back, teeth gritted together, eyes closed and ears flat. But Tigre was merely pointing out into the audience. "There's a lot of men out there," she said. "And most of them want to be inside you. Do you like that?"
"Yes, ma'am," Technofox said, choking back a sob.
"What are you?"
"I'm a miserable cunt, ma'am," Technofox said, voice cracking.
"Now I think you're being unkind to yourself," Tigre said gently. "You have a wonderful cunt. Men have told me it's tight, and warm, and strong, and welcoming. And I know it's sweet and responsive." There was a pause. "I complemented you," she reminded Technofox.
"Thank you, ma'am," Technofox responded woodenly.
"Let them see what we're talking about," Tigre ordered.
Technofox closed her eyes and her mouth opened and closed twice. Firefox could feel and hear the audience stir around them, edging forward for a better look. Slowly, reluctantly, and in the most enticing manner imaginable, Technofox lifted the edge of her skirt upwards, exposing her delicate cleft. Firefox was thankful the air moved the way it did. It was kinder this way. Firefox could scent the excitement in the air; could smell the interest and even the erections of scores of men. She felt her own loins tremble slightly, prepare themselves to accept the men around her.
Jamison took her hand lightly. She jumped. Looking at him, she could tell he was worried and hurt and looking for reassurance; Firefox was so tightly wound she was dumbfounded for a moment, as though unable to understand physical contact that wasn't sexual.
Tigre rested her hand on Technofox's privates. Technofox's eyes snapped open, and looked at Tigre, bewildered, as though hoping against hope that Tigre was interposing her hand, mercifully shielding her from the eyes of dozens of strangers. It was an impossible delusion, verging on insanity. Tigre was Tigre, and anything unexpected she did was to be more, and not less, cruel.
Technofox's tongue darted out and back, with a soft slurp The sound system paid special attention to this proof of animal pleasure. Tigre's fingers moved, slightly, delicately. Technofox shuddered and gasped, and Firefox felt tears forming in her eyes.
Tigre was an expert at masturbating other women. Firefox remembered endless, passionate sessions in Tigre's bed, laying as still as possible while Tigre lay on her side, bringing her to one intense orgasm after another, half-smiling at Firefox, her only reward to watch the fox writhe in intense pleasure under her hand. And this reminded Firefox, in the cruelest manner possible, where that skill had come from: Tigre had learned it to humiliate women, so she could bring them agony and follow it with incredible, almost impossible pleasure, to remind them, brutally, that they were animals designed for fucking and coming instead of people.
Tigre was up on stage, treating Technofox exactly the way she treated Firefox, except it was an act of brutality and humiliation instead of a playful act of affection, even if not love. It reminded Firefox of something she fought to ignore, something she refused to admit to herself. The vicious monster on stage with the whip was the same woman she bedded eagerly. It wasn't just that Tigre could make Firefox climax, even against her will. It was that Firefox had let Tigre into her heart, and Tigre was up there, violating Firefox's dearest friends, sisters who had become lovers.
If only she could pretend that Tigre was forced into it, but she knew the Tiger was enjoying herself, and that she took even more pleasure from it because it was violation. If Technofox had been into it, Tigre would not be.
Monster. Monster.
And what did that make someone who loved a monster?
"You are not to climax," Tigre ordered. "This is for me, not you. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"What are you?"
"I'm a slave, ma'am."
"Hurm. Give me an adjective with your nouns from now on."
"I'm a pleasure slave, ma'am."
"Yes, you are a pleasure slave. Each word is important, you understand. You must give pleasure, and you must feel pleasure. You must be fire and feel the heat at the same time. A pleasure slave should never fake an orgasm. It should never be necessary. You're a pleasure slave at Blue Diamond, not some cheap mainland hooker. And you're a slave. This means you accept that Master's will is your will, and that you are here to service your guests. Do you like what I'm doing to you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Technofox said, her voice breaking, because it was no lie.
"Yes. And do you want me to stop?"
Pause. "No, ma'am."
"I think that was a lie."
"Yes, ma'am. I lied. I'm sorry, ma'am. Please don't do that to me."
"Why not?"
Pause. "Not in front of people, ma'am. I don't like men seeing me, ma'am."
"If I had you tied on a struggle board, you'd be enjoyed by maybe three men in an hour."
Technofox's eyes swung to Tigre, afraid. "Not again, ma'am, please, not again."
"Do you prefer this?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then you enjoy it more?"
Pause. "Yes, ma'am."
"What are you?"
"I'm a filthy whore, ma'am."
"I think you're clean and fragrant, and beautiful as a flower," Tigre said.
Technofox gasped, squirmed, and almost fell over as an orgasm washed over her. Tigre quickly removed her hand, and stood, regarding her sternly.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Technofox whispered. "I'm sorry."
Technofox slipped her blouse off her shoulders, and turned away from Tigre. Her breasts and her tight, hard nipples came into view as she bared herself for punishment.
"No," Tigre said softly. "You are one of Blue Diamond's angels. You're sensual, and so very sexual even the threat of a beating won't keep you from climaxing. You're a good girl, Candi. Work a little harder, and I won't have to punish you any more."
Technofox's joy and relief were so obvious that Firefox almost screamed out loud.
"Thank you, ma'am," Technofox said, eyes bright, tail bouncing happily.
"Give me a kiss."
Technofox did so, so happily and so enthusiastically that Firefox closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep silent.
Technofox and Shadowfox had not been told they were doing the shoot today. They spent a few minutes in costuming, coming down from the intense fear Tigre could invoke. "Obviously," Firefox said lightly, "Tigre wasn't going to lay into you right before a shoot."
"The bitch," Shadowfox said softly, as though afraid she'd be overheard. Shadowfox rubbed lightly at her wrists. Her bonds had been removed for the shoot, but she wore a bulky anklet.
"Mm-hmm," Jamison said tightly. Firefox looked at him, worried. She wasn't sure how he was handling it, or even what he believed. Did he think it was an act on Tigre's part?
Well, what else could he believe? Shadowfox and Technofox were obviously shaken, and badly shaken, from their experience. But she was still Saffron to him, and what else could she be?
Firefox was wearing a tiger-striped Jungle Goddess outfit, with a stage knife and plenty of glass beads. Technofox held a khaki pith helmet in her hands by the brim, turning it nervously Ms. Ramirez had Shadowfox dressed and was accessorizing her, with large metal clip-on earrings. Shadowfox wore a broad bead necklace over a tied bikini top, and a skirt that went below her knees, which was tied to show her left leg, and went below her tail to show the tops of the curves of her buttocks.
Ramirez looked at Shadowfox dubiously. "Are you sure you want her to be the native bearer?" she asked.
"Right, the black fur," Jamison agreed. "I know what you mean. That's why I was hoping we could do the shot outside, in a real forest instead of a hothouse jungle." He paused, before explaining. "That way, it's more of a spoof -- 'Fox Queen of the Deciduous Forest'. Having a black furred native bearer would come across more as a joke that way. Doing it in a jungle makes it look too straight and serious. It could come off as racist instead of politically incorrect satire."
"Maybe we can play up the goofiness," Firefox suggested. "Put on some silly-assed 'I'm so naughty!' expressions in some of the shots." Firefox demonstrated, opening her eyes wide and pursing her lips. "Oopsie!" she said. "My tits fell out -- tee hee!"
"Wow," Jamison said admiringly. "For a moment there, you looked like Bettie Page."
"Except fuzzier," Shadowfox said. She examined her spear. It was fairly light and quite flimsy, with a large shiny blade no sharper than a paddle and probably less effective as a weapon, as fake as Firefox's knife. Shadowfox looked disappointed as she came to the same conclusion Firefox had.
"Is that good?" Firefox asked.
"Yes, I think it'll work out. Let's split the shots -- some straight, some goofy, and see how it comes together," Jamison said.
To Firefox's relief, Technofox stopped fidgeting with her pith helmet and smiled, a little. "Do you think the two of us can pass as a safari?" she asked.
"I was looking into that," Jamison said. "We can take some stock pictures of other girls in jungle costumes and composite them in for some shots."
"Stock footage," Firefox said suddenly. "We'll need to do some reaction shots for obvious stock footage inserts. That'll make it look like a bad jungle movie if nothing else does."
"I like that," Jamison said thoughtfully. "You ready?" he asked.
"I don't know," Shadowfox said.
"Pizza and cokes in the studio," Jamison said entreatingly.
"Let's go," Firefox said brightly.
She didn't blame Shadowfox for being nervous -- Technofox was going to be cutting into her scalp shortly, performing minor surgery with primitive instruments and topical anesthetic. Despite that, there was nothing to be gained by wasting time.
The foxes helped carry the camera equipment and props -- really much too small a load for four people. Firefox was astonished to see that he had a box of sterile latex gloves for Technofox. Very useful for surgery, but how had Jamison convinced Blue Diamond it would be used as part of a nude pictorial?
She thought about it a little longer and grimaced.
They followed Jamison and a guard across the hotel to the wing with the fantasy suites, near the schoolroom set. Jamison unlocked a walnut-veneer door, unleashing stereo sound. The guard closed the door behind them, and locked the slaves in. Firefox had once been in an African jungle; these sounds were quite different in pacing and intensity. Also, the trees and plants were spread out further, at least by the door.
Stepping into the room, she saw her first impression was slightly off. The plants were spaced more closely together towards the walls, no doubt to help disguise the fact they were in a room, to subtly encourage people to stay in the center clearing. The room had a heavy, greenhouse scent of mulch and the nicotine used against some swamp bugs.
It was less like Firefox's memories of Uganda than it was a Tarzan set, the sort of "jungle" where a pride of lions and a tiger might suddenly appear, the sort of jungle ruled by Europeans orphaned by plane crashes, or stern jungle queens ready to give themselves utterly to the first explorer they met with the daring to make them feel like women. It was a jungle where swinging from tree to tree was the fastest way to travel, and where native bearers would flee at the first sight of a plaster skull on a pole.
Firefox looked up to see if there were any vines to swing from. Sadly, liability lawyers had done away with that aspect, but the grass on the ground was soft and comfortable, and she suspected it was specially grown.
"Look much like Africa to you, Milton?" Firefox asked.
"We spent our time in Kenya," he said. "Lions and cheetahs, mostly. Savannahs."
Technofox looked at a box over the door, and pointed. Firefox looked up. It might be a wireless port. Firefox and Shadowfox looked sharply at Technofox, who shrugged elaborately. It might be possible for Shadowfox to access through here. They wouldn't need to get her into Tigre's bedroom. Shadowfox looked relieved.
"Can we get started?" Shadowfox asked, slightly on edge. And Firefox knew she wasn't talking about the photo shoot.
Jamison nodded, and held a finger to his lips. They were likely being listened to, but not monitored with cameras. Shadowfox looked flustered and nodded, quickly.
Jamison opened a camera case, first taking out a clean, folded cloth, about the size of a pillowcase. Spreading this on a flat bit of ground, he then took out a device that looked like an expensive, metal pen: Unscrewing this into two parts, he removed a set of small, slender hobby blades. Tucking one into the end of the pen, he tightened a collar, turning it into a very adequate scalpel. A set of nipple clamps came out next, and two small squeeze bottles, labeled LENS CLEANING SOLUTION. Then, finally, the box of latex gloves.
Technofox came over, and sat next to him. She popped the tops of each container, sniffed, and nodded, satisfied. Next, came out some jewelers' screwdrivers, sterilized and sealed.
"Chili," Jamison said, "I'd like to start with you alone. We need to establish you as the wild jungle queen."
Jamison laid the computer chips on the cloth, pointing at one and then at Shadowfox. Shadowfox licked her lips. Firefox felt a stab of sympathy. Shadowfox was about to have minor surgery performed on her, using very little more than stuff that could be bought at a hobby store. Intellectually, she knew that sterilized paper clips bent with pliers were perfectly good replacements for most sutures and other surgical equipment, but there was a big difference between that and actually seeing someone lay a small Leatherman tool on an improvised operating table.
Jamison got up, took his camera, and went over to Firefox, his eyes apologetic. Firefox nodded, calmly. She was used to working as part of a combined forces team. She accepted, reluctantly, the necessity of taking herself out of the schwerpunkt from time to time. But still, posing for titty pictures while her friend was being cut open rankled every instinct she had. She wished it was her under the knife.
Shadowfox seemed to sense this, and turned to her. Her teeth flashed white against black fur in a broad smile, and she lifted one thumb. Technofox followed suit after a pause. Then Shadowfox took a length of leather strap in her teeth, and lay down, her head trustingly in Technofox's lap. Technofox turned around, blocking Firefox's view of Shadowfox.
Firefox turned to face Jamison. She had her own job to do.
"Okay," Jamison said, "You are a jungle goddess, feared by the ignorant native tribes because of your courage and your ferocity, worshipped because of your beauty. A legend says that you and your dominions will belong to the first one able to capture you."
"And bring to me the pleasures of being a woman," Firefox promptly added.
"Yes, perfect."
"Okay." She reflected. "Can we start with me sneaking around? I'll lurk you from behind this tree."
"Sounds good."
She went behind the tree, dropped low, and peeked out over a rise in the ground. She moved silently, cautiously, as though setting up a firing position. She heard the camera mechanism cycling, and shifted her gaze around, as though her enemy was to the left, to the right, above, and directly at the camera. Jamison's style was to machine-gun exposures of a model in motion and pick the best shots, not to pose the model.
Shadowfox yelped, an animal cry of shock and pain. Technofox hunched over, rattled. Firefox stared for a second or two.
"Careful where you step," Firefox said, finally, calmly for the benefit of any monitors. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Shadowfox said with a laugh. "Wish us ignorant savages had shoes."
"Okay, good," Firefox said. "I'll give you a foot rub later."
Technofox squirted something onto Shadowfox's head. Probably Neocaine.
Jamison tried not to look worried. "Okay, nice. Can we do that again, with your knife in your hand?"
"Want me to brandish it or hold it properly?"
"First one, then the other." She shifted upwards a bit, coming to all fours. "Oh, wait -- that's great. I've got an incredible shot right down your cleavage that way."
"That's good, right?"
"Oh, yes. Hold that, please. Now go through some threat faces. No, that's just sort of intent and serious. You're a jungle queen. That's right -- turn your head a bit to the left, I want your teeth to show."
Technofox put down the scalpel, and picked up some nipple clamps. She'd be using those to hold the skin open, so she could work on the exposed implant, sitting in a socket carved into Shadowfox's skull. Firefox thought of Paleolithic human skulls she had seen in museums; skulls that showed evidence of surgery far more extensive than what Technofox was doing now. Well, fretting about that would do no good.
Firefox came to her knees, looked directly at the camera, and then suddenly pushed her breasts together. She played with them for a minute or two.
"I'm looking at the beautiful strangers who have trespassed into my domain," she said. "Although they can't see me, and although I've never seen women like me before, I can see how beautiful they are, and I want to have them," Firefox explained.
She pulled one of her breasts free, licked her nipple lightly. She lifted her loincloth, touched herself there, with the handle of her knife.
As she masturbated and as the camera cycled, she found herself thinking of herself, dressed like this, tied to the struggle board while a man she didn't know slipped himself into her. The thought was exciting, shamefully, humiliatingly so.
He'd uncover her breasts first, and his teeth and his tongue would probe and nibble and taste her flesh. He wouldn't bother to strip her top off; he could reach everything he wanted this way, and his need for her was too urgent to bother with getting her naked. His cock would feel good and hard against her leg; she could scent the first release of seminal fluid as it came fully erect. She'd feel the head maneuvered up inside her, then the sweet, painful pressure as he thrust his weight into her...
"That's incredible," Jamison said gently. "You're beautiful."
His comment jerked her back to reality. She gulped softly, genuinely embarrassed for a moment. Everyone in the room was a lover of hers, and yet she had drifted into a rape fantasy, and what was worse, a fantasy she knew would probably come true within a week.
Beyond Jamison, Shadowfox came to her feet, unsteadily, using Technofox's shoulder as a crutch. But she stood, steadied herself, and her hand came to a slow, sharp salute. Firefox smiled broadly, and as she stepped forward, Jamison looked over his shoulder.
Technofox was standing proudly, arm halfway around Shadowfox. Shadowfox got a distant look in her eyes, and Firefox knew she was accessing the implant. The black fox grinned slightly, and the grin grew wider. Firefox envied her; the inactive implant was irritating, like having one eye covered by a patch. Now that Shadowfox's was up again, she could access the full range of the implant's capabilities, from serious things to trivialities like solitaire games and any books she had downloaded from the Net. Shadowfox suppressed the chuckle caused by having her toy back.
Firefox gently nudged Shadowfox's head down to look at the wound. She pushed aside hair and fur to see a gash maybe two centimeters long, sitting under a pink patch of blood mixed with white Wonder Dust. It would flake off as the incision closed.
Firefox hugged both of them, her tail swishing happily, panting with mouths open. After a few minutes of that, Firefox felt a vague sense of something incomplete. She looked over at Jamison, who was standing quietly, giving them some privacy. After a moment, Technofox and Shadowfox followed her gaze.
They glanced at one another and came to a silent consensus.
Soon they half tackled, half lowered him to the ground, careful of his camera. They tickled him, nuzzled and nibbled him and one another, as eagerly as happy puppies, but with the bodies and minds of mature women. He responded by hugging, kissing, and petting the fur of their heads.
Shadowfox had straddled him, and froze suddenly. Firefox and Technofox looked up. Shadowfox was positioned with her hips directly above his. She met his eyes, suddenly serious, and nervous. It didn't take much imagination to realize that she was feeling his erection pressing directly against her mound. Shadowfox's tongue flicked out, briefly, against her upper lip.
Shadowfox sat up, ran her hands lightly over her breasts. Her nipples stiffened, clearly visible through the fabric chosen for her costume. Without taking her eyes from his, she lifted herself, reached down, and put a hand on his belt.
Seeing the change in another was perhaps even more of a surprise than seeing it in herself; proper, serious Shadowfox was ready to fuck a man she had never met before, simply because she was in a good mood and he had an erection. Firefox watched, emotions tugging her in two directions at once: she was glad her friend was about to get some, and at the same time she was shocked at Shadowfox's behavior.
For herself, she realized she didn't feel jealousy so much as envy, for both of them: she wanted Jamison inside her, and she wanted Shadowfox.
Gently, he put his hand on hers, and moved it away from his belt. She looked at him, a little confused. As though a man refusing sex was something so outside her experience it was as unthinkable as not offering herself to him.
"If we did that, I'd lose some energy I need to put into the pictures," he said gently.
Shadowfox looked away, and smiled shyly.
"You ready to do some work?" he asked.
Shadowfox grinned again and nodded. She pointed to Firefox and Technofox first, and clasped her hands. She then pointed to herself and to the network hub over the door. Firefox raised her hand in a fist. Stop. She then pointed to Jamison and Shadowfox, and nodded firmly. They needed to be able to show pictures of Shadowfox, or it would look too suspicious.
"Shadowfox," Jamison said, "Let me work with you and Technofox for a bit. Then I want to try some shots with Firefox and Technofox. Maybe we can do some threesies later."
Good.
Firefox sat idle as he worked with Shadowfox and Technofox, coaxing them into their roles. Firefox watched Shadowfox carefully, for any sign she was reacting badly to the cut in her scalp. She seemed okay, though; in fact, she even seemed to be having fun with her role, hamming it up. Technofox was a bit more reserved and uncertain, but that seemed to suit her part.
It wasn't long before it became time for the intrepid explorer and her native bearer to meet the jungle queen in combat.
"How the heck are they going to subdue me?" Firefox asked.
"I've got a spear. You have a knife," Shadowfox said. She grinned and thumped her chest. "Me tekkum you down easy, I betcha."
"Sure, you could," Firefox agreed. "But we're talking about Jungle Goddess versus Native Bearer."
"Chief Bearer," Shadowfox corrected archly. "But no, you're right. Sheena would have me and Tech both on our ass."
"Asses," Technofox corrected, pedantically. "I think the traditional Jungle Queen Capturing weapon is a net."
"Of course," Jamison agreed. "I knew I forgot something."
"Maybe a tennis net?" Firefox suggested. "Soccer net would be even better."
"Good idea," Jamison said. "I'll call and see if someone can bring us one. We can skip ahead to the ravishing."
"Oh, do I get ravished?" Firefox asked. "Sorry. Stupid question."
There were some coils of plastic vine in various lengths, perfect for their purpose. Firefox wondered how many jungle goddesses had been bound with them. Jamison took some pictures of Shadowfox pretending to cut it from a tree, using Firefox's knife. Shadowfox hesitated, sniffed the handle. Firefox blushed for a moment. She had masturbated with the handle before, and she knew Shadowfox would scent her.
Shadowfox held the knife by the blade, closed her eyes, and delicately touched the tip of her tongue to the handle. Jamison hesitated, and held his finger down as she slipped her free hand into her top.
The lovely fox pushed her top down, and pulled her breast out. She started playing with her breast, lifting it and teasing her nipple, while she tasted Firefox on the handle of her knife, as though she was pleasuring Firefox through the knife, as though she were Tigre loving her husband through Firefox.
Jamison was silent, holding his breath, almost. It was as though he had forgotten she was a hired model, and he instead turned quiet and inconspicuous, as though she were a wild animal he didn't want to startle. For several minutes, the only sounds were the lapping of Shadowfox's tongue, the shearing click of the shutter, the soft, nervous, swallowing of Technofox.
Firefox looked at Technofox; her eyes were bright, shining, intent on Shadowfox's sweet body as Shadowfox opened her mouth wide and lay the knife handle along the length of her tongue. Firefox shifted forward, staring at that warm, wet, pink tongue and the flashes of white teeth, thinking of how many men had climaxed into that mouth, how many women had sat in front of her, as Shadowfox knelt, bound before them, and had gently slipped that tongue over and around vulvas and erect, sensitive clitori. What could possibly be more submissive than that, than holding your master's genitalia between your teeth in perfect safety, giving pleasure, and taking none?
Shadowfox caught her eye, and smiled, just slightly. She recognized Firefox by taste and scent, and Firefox felt strangely flattered by that, that Shadowfox recognized her among all the other women she had tasted.
Shadowfox stopped, picked up the vine, took a few steps towards Jamison. "I want to fuck your brains out," Shadowfox said to Firefox, low and soft, and Firefox felt her tail rise instinctively with excitement, accepting the offer, presenting access to a man mounting her from behind.
They found a suspiciously convenient tree. They tied Firefox's wrists together behind her back and around the tree, and then had her go to her knees. Shadowfox went behind the tree and tied her ankles together, which forced Firefox's legs apart. She then passed the vine around Firefox's waist a few times, and crossed it between her breasts.
"Can't have you squirming away, can we?" Shadowfox murmured into her ear. Firefox swallowed, thinking that Shadowfox was either a wonderful actor or a very bad one.
Firefox tried to remain still as Shadowfox worked, but she was acutely aware of their eyes on her, almost as palpable as a caress from a hand or a tongue. Shadowfox's hand lingered on her body, just a little too long to be entirely innocent.
By the time Shadowfox was finished with her, Firefox was wet, excited, her loins twitching slightly. She knew Shadowfox could scent her arousal, just as easily as Firefox could scent Shadowfox's.
"Technofox?" Shadowfox said slowly.
"Mm?" Technofox asked, blinking.
Shadowfox hesitated, and turned to Jamison. "Sir?"
"Milton," he corrected immediately.
"Milton, how about some shots of Technofox and me making out in the tent?"
Jamison blinked, and looked over at Firefox. "That's a good idea,  but let's get Firefox finished first."
He went over to a panel by the door. "Let's make it nighttime."
The lights dimmed, and the background sounds changed subtly. Jamison set up a small, battery-operated light on a tripod, slipped an amber light over the end, and turned it onto Firefox. He looked at Firefox critically, unsatisfied. Then he brightened. "Shadowfox, can you sort of wave your fingers over this, make it look like it's flickering?"
"Oh, that's our campfire?" Shadowfox laughed. "Neat."
Jamison knelt by Firefox. "Okay, you're captured, and you don't know what fate awaits you. But you see the shadows of your captors on their tent and it arouses you in ways you don't understand."
"Gotcha," Firefox agreed.
Shadowfox waved her hand energetically and Jamison focused on Firefox's profile. As the camera shuttered, she looked down, disconsolate, and slowly lifted her head. Technofox was crouching behind Shadowfox; she suddenly winked, grabbed Shadowfox's breast, and blew a kiss at Firefox. Firefox broke into a smile and laughed.
"A bit more 'turned on,' please," Jamison said, unaware of what Technofox had just done.
She tried, she really did. But for whatever reason, she was feeling too giggly and playful to hold a serious lustful expression for more than a few seconds.
"I'm sorry," she apologized over and over again. "I'm trying, I really am."
He sighed, melodramatically. "That's okay," he said, finally. "I think we've got some good shots. Technofox, I'd like to get some pictures of you putting on a glove."
Shadowfox looked up at the box over the door, yearningly. "Right," she said. "I'll warm up Firefox." Firefox blinked, and pointed her snout at the door. Shadowfox tilted her head. "I want to make it easier for you," she said.
Technofox put on her helmet, and Jamison took a few pictures of her from various angles, tugging at a latex glove with different expressions.
"Don't look at her, beautiful," Shadowfox ordered. "Just look at me."
Shadowfox knelt next to Firefox and put an arm on her shoulders, brought her face close to hers.
Shadowfox closed her eyes, and parted her lips. She touched Firefox's muzzle lightly with her own, licked gently until Firefox opened her mouth. She slipped her tongue in, gliding it softly on Firefox's teeth and gums, wrestling playfully with Firefox's own tongue. Firefox leaned forward, trying to get closer, but Shadowfox shied away, kneeling with a smile that barely showed her white teeth and red tongue.
"I'm not going to let you come, you know," Shadowfox told her.
Firefox blinked.
Shadowfox reached a hand out and stroked Firefox's head gently, with a single fingertip. "You fuck a lot like a man," Shadowfox said, thoughtfully. "You're hard and fast and impatient. But you see, I'm not." She pushed her breasts together. "You'd like to taste these, wouldn't you?"
Firefox nodded. Her mouth was dry. Shadowfox put her hands on Firefox's shoulders. "Well, you can't," she said lightly. "I'm going to give you exactly what I want to give you. And you want to know something? It feels really, really good to be in control. Not being handcuffed, not having some guy grab the back of your head and drive into the back of your throat."
"Shad," Firefox said, laughing softly, "Please get me lubed up. I really need you help for what's coming."
Shadowfox clucked her tongue. "What do you think I'm doing, beautiful?" she asked. She leaned closer. "You know something?" she asked. "I've got such a reputation now some of my regulars go off before I can even get them in my mouth." The tip of her tongue flicked lightly over the end of Firefox's nose. Firefox shuddered in response. "Just a little touch like that is all it takes."
She looked down at Firefox's breasts. "I'll bet your nipples are hard as rock," she said. "I'll bet they're as sweet as licorice, and that you'd practically come if I just breathed on them hard. You'd like me to suck on them, wouldn't you? You'd like my teeth pulling at your flesh, till you felt you were being eaten? So I won't do that."
Firefox was almost shaking at this point. By now, she was so used to being mounted without ritual or even conversation, that Shadowfox's teasing was unendurable. And, she had to admit, she was wet -- she couldn't remember being so excited, so anticipating.
She sat back and looked at Firefox thoughtfully. Firefox's whole body strained towards her, helplessly. Shadowfox took a small tube and squirted a transparent gel onto her right thumb. With her left hand, she flicked away Firefox's loincloth, exposing her.
Her thumb thrust up and into her, the cold of the gel and the sudden intrusion making Firefox gasp uncontrollably. "This is more what you're about, isn't it?" Shadowfox asked. "Something hard up inside of you, something fast, till you almost feel like you're being ripped apart?" she asked. "Hard to imagine something too big for this girl. She's voracious, isn't she?"
Firefox gasped. Shadowfox's thumb was up inside her, her fingers resting lightly on her mons, so close, so painfully close, to her clitoris and yet refusing to touch it. Instead, cruelly, she focused her attentions entirely on her vagina, slipping in her forefinger, slowly parting them, opening Firefox wider, turning her fingers within Firefox. Shadowfox's free hand trembled, and she licked her lip nervously, and Firefox knew she was as excited as she was.
Shadowfox lowered her mouth to Firefox's ear. "I want to make you come so bad," she whispered. "I don't care if it's under a spotlight, I don't care if it's in front of a camera, I don't care if there's a hundred men watching and jerking off, I don't care if it's at the end of Tigre's leash, I just want to taste you and feel your clitoris under my tongue as you go off beneath me."
"I love you, Shadowfox," Firefox replied.
Shadowfox looked at her, startled, considered, and smiled. "I love you too, Firefox," she said. "Sir?"
"Milton."
"Milton, she's ready."
Shadowfox got up, walked towards the wireless box. She looked up at it for a moment, and gave a thumbs up.
Firefox exhaled, slowly. Shadowfox had a connection, but it would take time to run the script. It was very unlikely they could access the high security parts of Blue Diamond's network from here; this wireless network was probably for the convenience of hotel staff and guests. Still, Firefox could poke around a little, and there was very little risk of something going wrong.
"Okay, thank you," Jamison said. "Firefox, I want to see you struggle a little first. That's right. A little less thrashing, please." The camera cycled as he photographed her fighting the vines. "That's good, yes. Technofox?"
Technofox approached Firefox cautiously, trying to gauge how much she could move while bound. She got bolder, touching her, smiling as Firefox pretended to snap at her. Finally, she grabbed at Firefox's top, and ripped it free.
Technofox played with the fabric, sniffing at it, wrapping it around one hand. Then, slowly, watching Firefox every second, she undid her belt and lowered her pants slowly to the ground, stepping out of them. Her panties were white, barely frilled, and tight enough in the crotch to show the shape of her vulva.
"Hold that," Jamison said. "Stand over her. That's right. Stand over her. Put your hands on your hips. You're going to have this bitch, no matter what --" he stopped short, looked suddenly nervous. "Uh, sorry, Firefox."
"Don't wreck the mood," Firefox admonished him. "Go for it. She's going to fuck me."
Technofox looked down at her, and smiled cruelly as Jamison got her in shot. She then took off her panties, took Firefox's head under one arm, and tied her panties around Firefox's snout as an improvised muzzle.
Technofox lay on her side, head almost in Firefox's lap. She lifted her head higher, and bit at Firefox's nipples. After chewing on them for a short time, she sucked greedily at one and put her hand between her own legs.
Firefox squirmed ineffectually for the camera as Technofox enjoyed herself, and the shutter mechanism sounded with the soft hiss of a precision mechanism.
Technofox stopped, and held Firefox's head gently between her hands. "Are you okay with this?" she asked softly.
Firefox hesitated, and nodded.
Technofox changed her glove for a clean one. Firefox was already spread wide enough to make her hips ache, but she tried to spread herself even wider. Tentatively, at first, Technofox began exploring around Firefox's pubes. Firefox forced herself to relax, to be more inviting for her.
"Firefox, can you try to put up a bit of a fight?" Jamison asked.
Firefox hesitated, and started struggling. As she was afraid, Technofox became more skittish, afraid of hurting her. Firefox paused. "It's okay, you silly girl," she said. "You're supposed to be fisting me against my will."
"Yeah, but--" Technofox said uncertainly.
"Use a safeword," Jamison said.
"What's that?" Technofox asked.
"It's a code word," Firefox said. "I'll say your name if you really start hurting me. Then I can scream and thrash around and you'll know I'm just acting. Okay?"
Technofox nodded. "Okay." She looked better.
Firefox looked over at Jamison. He had frozen, his camera about the level of his mouth, as though shocked.
"Milton?" Firefox asked.
Jamison blinked. "Sorry. Just ... sorry. I'm ready."
Technofox played with her intently, as Firefox struggled and shrieked. She suspected that this wasn't going to be easy. This had always hurt her a bit, sometimes more than just a bit. She had only done this with Silverfox before, and Silverfox knew her intimately. Technofox had, as far as Firefox knew, never fisted a woman before. On the other hand, Technofox had a small fist. She knew there was a very good chance she'd be shrieking for real in a few minutes, and she wanted Technofox to think it was part of an act. She didn't want to make her nervous.
Technofox started with one finger, then two, then three. Then Firefox started to feel a little uncomfortable. With four fingers, the little fox was beginning to stretch her out past where Shadowfox had stopped. Firefox hissed slightly, each time Technofox pushed her hand in a little deeper, wider.
Shadowfox sat still, performing her own act of violation.
Technofox took out her hand, and Firefox opened her eyes. Technofox touched her five fingertips together and started sliding that in, each time a tiny bit deeper. Firefox tried to relax while struggling, inviting her friend to thrust in deeper all while pretending to fight and resist.
This would be torture if she weren't trying to bring Technofox in, she realized. As it was, it was painful, but it was pleasurable at the same time; more than the physical aspects of being entered, despite the vines and costumes it was still Technofox, and Firefox knew she was letting her friend into her, that her friend was taking her in a way only Silverfox had taken her so far. There was a strange intimacy to that, to accepting the discomfort because it was from Technofox, as opposed to simply enduring a stranger.
She bit her lips to avoid crying out. Technofox had withdrawn, formed a fist, and was pressing it slowly into her. By now she was dilated, but the tension in her arms was still real as Technofox slipped between her legs. She gasped, and yelped once, her eyes closed tightly, and thrashed as Technofox pulled out.
There was a pop and the vine came loose off her wrist. Firefox and Technofox looked at one another in honest shock for a moment, and then Firefox impulsively wrapped her arms around Technofox, lifting her up so she stood, and Firefox buried her tear-streaked face against her conqueror's belly. She held Technofox tightly, and then kissed and licked her pubes tenderly, in homage to the woman who had won her.
"And ... cut," Jamison said dryly.
Firefox and Technofox giggled helplessly. Technofox helped Firefox out of the vines, and she stood groggily.
"Did I hurt you?" Technofox asked immediately.
Firefox decided not to lie. "Yes, a little, but it's okay." Shadowfox stood, turned to look at them. Her eyes and grin were wide. She nodded excitedly, and kept giving a thumbs-up gesture. She ambled towards them, so full of good news she would burst, but unable to speak out loud.
Firefox's jaw dropped. "The hotel network is tied in to the main network?" she whispered, amazed.
Shadowfox nodded. "The script ran. It returned a success. We're cleared."
It sounded too good to be true. Firefox pointed to the door, and looked at Shadowfox enquiringly. Shadowfox nodded and gestured her toward it, confident, giving her the honors.
Firefox walked to the locked door. She looked at the band locked onto her arm, similar to the one which Tigre had identified as a remote-controlled hypodermic. She doubted that now. It seemed more likely that it was simply a tag to identify her, identical to one she usually wore in her collar.
She felt sensors flicker over her, identify her as Chili, a red collar Vix-Dix, pleasure slave in training. A subroutine checked her security access, and with a soft click, the lock opened.
Firefox opened the door a hairline crack, closed it again despite her elation. They had a key to practically every door in Blue Diamond.
They were by no means "out of this,"  she had to remind herself. The computers thought she had access; no human guard would be fooled. And any human guard seeing them in a secure area would report them, and the operators would correct the error. And it was likely that they would find the other code that Shadowfox had infiltrated into their software. They'd have to be careful.
But it would be a huge advantage.
Firefox gave a thumbs up. "I'll order pizza and coke," Jamison said as the foxes jumped excitedly.
Lunch came, and then the props for the rest of the shoot. They captured Firefox in a net, and Technofox and Shadowfox made love in a tent, a light casting their shadows on the fabric, while a bound Firefox watched them hungrily. But it went quickly.
The clock went on remorselessly, and finally, guards came to bond the foxes again. Firefox tried not to respond as they groped her while putting the collar and wrist and ankle shackles back on her arms and legs and neck.
"It's a bit late," Jamison said. "I'd like to stay an extra night." He pointed casually at Firefox. "and toss her in too."
"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," the guard responded. "We'll have to escort her to your room, though."
"Thank you," Jamison said.
"Not that I'm complaining," Firefox said, when they were back in his room, "But I wish you could have hired the other two as well."
Jamison rolled his eyes. "Cost is a factor, I'm afraid." He kissed her and she kissed him back.
"Uhm," she said softly, uncertainly. "Is it okay if you don't take me between the legs? I'm still a little sore."
"No, no, of course not," he said, anxiously. "Would you rather rest? You're not obliged to --"
She kissed him. "Stop being so noble."
"We'll have to decide on the next step," he said. "I mean, what you'll do, how I can help --"
Firefox rested a finger across his lips, closed her eyes, and kissed him. They could worry about that later. For now, all she wanted was to lay with him, rest, and pretend he loved her. She dropped her robe to the floor, pressed her naked body against him, and closed her eyes.
"Firefox," he said gently. "There's something important. Technofox. I saw her in a bondage show with Saffron, but she didn't know what a --"
The door popped open and Tigre stepped in. The door closed behind her as They stared at one another, in shock. Firefox had completely forgotten that Tigre was going to meet her in Jamison's room after he left.
"Sir," Tigre said uncomfortably, "I'm very sorry. I thought this room was ... unoccupied."
Her voice was so different from its usual mocking command; it was actually disturbed. She had just done something unpardonable, she knew.
Firefox was the first to recover. "Tigre is telling a little white lie, Milton," she explained. Tigre's brow furrowed, and Firefox knew she had to make this work, or the tiger's revenge would be savage. "Tigre and I are lovers. She was going to meet me here, so we could make love in your bed."
Firefox turned to Tigre, naked, shackled, and smiling invitingly. "Come here, love," she said. "Come here with us. I want to share my strong tiger."
Tigre hesitated, and took a step forward. She was as uncertain and nervous as a girl. Firefox stepped back slightly, pushed them gently closer together.
Tigre was blinking rapidly, nervously, and couldn't focus on his face. Her nose twitched, and he held out a hand for her to sniff. As she did so, she seemed to settle down, inexplicable tension replaced with inexplicable familiarity.
"D -- Do I know you?" she asked, her voice cracking. "I feel different when I scent you, as though I'm someone else, as though it's Master's will we..."
"Master's will?" he asked gently. And Firefox realized he had been holding his breath.
"No," Tigre said. "Not Master's will. Master wouldn't ... he wouldn't want me to know you." She looked at him, confused. "You're more important to me than Master's will," she said. "How is that possible?"
He folded her in his arms. "Oh, Saffron. What did they do to you?"
"Saff --" Tigre snapped, shocked. "I know that name. She's important. Who is she? Who are you?"
"My real name is Andrew Larson," he said. "I'm here as Milton Jamison. Do you know Andrew Larson?"
"That's so important," she whispered. "It's so important I know that, but ... I can't remember. What's wrong with me?"
"We can't push her too fast," Firefox said gently. "Tigre, please, will you trust us for now? I promise you, it will make sense."
"I can't disobey Master," Tigre said firmly. "He's my will."
"Just give us time," Firefox implored her. "You'll understand that ... that this is all part of Master's will. You're Master's whip, aren't you?"
"Yes," Tigre said firmly.
"But it's very complicated, and ... and you don't want to trouble Master unnecessarily. We're going to help you make sense of this, Tigre." Firefox knelt and licked her hip. "You are Master's whip," she said humbly. "And I am your dog, your girl. I'm yours, now and forever. Trust me."
"I ... can't let you break the rules," Tigre said firmly.
"I know that," Firefox replied.
"Firefox..." Tigre said. Her voice grew more firm. "I have a photograph by Jamison on my wall."
"The cheetah, yes," Firefox agreed.
"I want you to get it for me. My room's just down the hall, left through the secure door."
Tigre smiled, just slightly, her arms still around Jamison.
"You can get it for me, can't you, girl?"
Firefox looked up at Tigre, suddenly terrified.
She knew about Shadowfox's hack. How did she...