Chapter 10 

Firefox's first instinct was to try to cover up. Try to convince Tigre she didn't know anything about it, no matter how hopeless that would be. 
"I have rights to go through secure doors?" Firefox asked slowly, trying to sound puzzled. 
Tigre looked back at her, as blank as Firefox was pretending to be. "...Yes," Tigre said, as though replying to a question like Do I have fur? "Firefox, are you feeling all right?" 
Firefox nodded, quickly and sharply. "Yes, ma'am. It's just that I haven't actually done it before." 
Tigre chuckled. "Then it's time you did. I can't believe you being so skittish." 
Firefox forced a grin, nodded, and picked up her robe. She opened the door into the hall, and saw the AUTHORIZED ONLY sign on the door across the way. She held her breath and pushed it. 
There was a pause as the compromised security system acknowledged her. The door had a wood veneer, but it was solid, metal, heavy, and moved smoothly on oiled hinges. This side of Blue Diamond was so elegant it was impossible to believe that past this door lay concrete and bars and abusive guards. 
She couldn't figure out Tigre's behavior. If Tigre knew security was compromised, why was she so casual about it? Firefox couldn't believe that Tigre had flipped sides, no matter how much she might want that to be true. 
Even while Firefox  tried to make sense of that, she moved cautiously, ears forward, alert. She had to be careful to avoid any wandering guards. 
It was one thing to tell a door lock that her ID chip was authorized; it was an entirely different matter to fool a human or a chimera. No, machines were easy to fool... 
Sweet lord. Firefox's jaw dropped as it all clicked together. 
And then Firefox heard a boot clicking against the floor up ahead, beyond a corner. She looked up, at the ceiling. People tended not to look up unless they were suspicious. 
Plumbing and conduits in service areas were generally kept outside the walls, easier to fix -- Blue Diamond, she saw with relief, was no exception.  She jumped up, gripped a cold water pipe, and smoothly tucked herself tight against the ceiling. 
She pulled up her tail, and slipped against a supporting frame, holding herself up with her arms and wrists until she was able to find a foothold. 
Tigre could smell and hear Lilith before she saw her, moving slowly. Firefox caught a whiff of another woman, and tried to identify the weird shuffling noise she heard, and the reason behind such raspy breath. She considered peeking, rejected the idea just as quickly. 
Lilith came around, dressed in black plastic armor inlaid with gold filigree; "armor" of a sort never seen outside of cheesy elf-porn fantasy, armor that protected one shoulder and one arm, pushed her breasts together and lifted them, barely covered her nipples, and left her belly exposed. 
She had a woman on a leash; no, bit and bridle; one of the identical triplets. The girl was naked, moving awkwardly on all fours. Lilith's attention was on the slave. Crawling any distance on the concrete floor had to hurt. Firefox had fur on her shins and she knew she'd be in agony after a few dozen meters. 
The bit was tight, forcing the girl's mouth wide open. 
Firefox controlled her breathing as they walked under her, moved her eyes slowly to keep the elf in view as she went down the hall. Firefox would have to kill her if she saw her; and all the tamer needed to do to see her was turn around. 
Damn. Lilith jerked the reins, sharply, so sharp the girl was lifted up off her hands with a shriek. 
"Whoa there, horsie," Lilith said in a quiet drawl. Then, she kicked her ribs, with the sole of her boot. There was a hollow thump and the girl was knocked down. Her shins were badly bruised, and she was bleeding at the knees. "LOOK AT ME," Lilith screamed. The girl cowered. 
"Now," Lilith said casually, "Who wants to help pull a troika?" 
The girl turned around, looked up at Lilith, and -- 
Looked directly at Firefox. 
She blinked once and looked back at Lilith. "I 'oo, na'an," she declared. 
"I don't know... " Lilith said, pondering. "The other two were happy to do it. You screwed things up for them. I don't know if I believe you. I think you need to convince Tigre." 
Oh, God, Firefox thought, appalled. The girl might decide to distract Lilith by pointing at Firefox. And then, Firefox would have to kill them. Maybe both. 
The girl shook her head, her strawberry blonde hair whipping about. 
"No," Lilith said firmly. "I really think you need an attitude lesson with Tigre." Lilith glanced at a fingernail, bit it as though working on a hangnail. The girl threw herself onto the floor, and started licking Lilith's boot. Lilith stood for a while, watching. She sighed. 
"Why are you such a problem, girl?" she asked, rhetorically. "I could be fucking some girls I really like instead of spending time with a miserable, scrawny little bitch like you." The elf jerked her up on her knees, again forcing her to look directly at Firefox. 
Lilith grabbed one of the girl's breasts and squeezed. "Tits that barely make a handful," she said disdainfully. "The only thing you have going for you is you're part of a matched set. Foursies with the three of you is a kick, but other than that you might as well be human." She kicked her again. "All fours, horsie. We've got a lot further to go." 
They were off again. The fox felt a moment of profound gratitude to the girl, tempered by the odd thought that she had no idea which one of the three she should be thankful to. 
When they were out of sight, Firefox dropped down silently and smiled to herself. She had held herself flat against a ceiling with one leg and her hands. Find a Human strong enough to do that, silently, she thought with pride. 
It felt good to pull it off; Firefox could feel a certain confidence return to her. After so long crawling and licking the floor, it was reassuring to know she still had it, that she was still the same killer she had always been, pleasure chimera or not. 
Firefox went up two flights of stairs, like a ghost. She didn't want to risk getting in an elevator and meeting someone. Tigre's room, RESIDENTIAL 1223, was right across from the exit to the stairwell. The automated systems let her in. She stopped in front of the framed cheetah. 
No human, no chimera, would simply accept that Firefox, a half-tamed, red-collar slave, was authorized to walk about in a secure area. No, that sort of insane disjoint between common sense and reality could only be accepted by a machine intelligence. If Firefox's identification number was in the right list, by definition, she was authorized, as far as an MI was concerned. 
Tigre was not merely connected to Blue Diamond's computer network; she was part of Blue Diamond's computer network. 
It came together, obvious in retrospect. How had Saffron supposedly died? Strokes, Jamison had told her. And they had probably told him the truth. There was no mystery there, no need to suspect the hospital of wrongdoing. Saffron was probably legally dead when her body was sold to Blue Diamond, and her head stuffed with networked communications gear. 
Oh, there was some of Saffron left, some part of her brain intact. Firefox knew that had to be true. There was enough of Saffron left to remember a picture Jamison had taken. There was enough of Saffron to feel and love. Any dog could do the same. 
Firefox had known for some time that there was a conflict between Jamison's wife "Saffron" and the brutal sadist "Tigre," and that under different stimulus, either personality could dominate. 
She had thought that "Tigre" was simply brought out by torture, by VR, by drugs. Now she realized that "Tigre" was encoded in beams of laser light, passing through lenses and fiber optic cables. They had probably cut away the damaged parts of Saffron's brain, using the space for chips and batteries and communications. And take that away, and how much would be left? 
Carefully, she took the cheetah off the wall, and stared at it for some time before she realized she was weeping, silently, knowing what she would have to do. 
When she made it back, Tigre and Jamison were sitting stiffly in the armchairs, drinking coffee made in the little pot. They were tight, tense with emotion that couldn't be expressed. 
"Ma'am," Firefox said respectfully, handing her the framed picture. 
"Ah, thank you," Tigre said gratefully. She fumbled opening the back of the frame. "Thanks for the autograph," she said. "We're really not supposed to ask celebrity guests-" 
"My pleasure," Jamison replied. "I'm hardly a celebrity, so it's still flattering to be asked." He grinned and Tigre laughed, uncomfortably. 
He signed his name, and Tigre put the picture back in the frame, closing it. "Thank you again, sir," Tigre said, standing. "I won't take any more of your time--" 
"Wait," Firefox and Jamison both said, at the same time. She glanced at him, silently asking him to trust her to handle this. Tigre looked at her, blinking, trying to understand what Firefox was doing. 
Firefox stepped up close to her, put her hands lightly on her muscular shoulders. Firefox closed her eyes, parted her lips, and pulled Tigre's head down into a long, slow kiss. 
"That's my strong tiger," Firefox murmured. "She's not afraid of anything, is she? She's not afraid to take what she wants when she sees it." 
Firefox reached around behind Tigre, put her hand on the zipper. Tigre froze. Firefox kept her eyes on hers and pulled down, firmly, without bothering to ask for permission, daring Tigre to stop her. 
Tigre's bustier fell open in back, held up only by the pressure of Firefox's body against her. Tigre put a hand against her own belly, holding the heavy leather up. The tiger glanced nervously at Jamison. 
Firefox stepped backwards, and without taking her eyes off Tigre's, shrugged her robe off and let it drop to the floor, stood before Tigre wearing nothing but her collar and cuffs and fur, tilted her head to be unashamed. 
"You want him, don't you?" Firefox asked. 
"M-Master says--" Tigre said, and stopped, confused. 
Firefox shrugged. "Mister Jamison's paying for me, and we were going to fuck here anyway," she said. 
"Yes..." Tigre said uncertainly. 
"Milton," Firefox said softly, "why don't you step up and hold her?" 
Jamison's coffee mug clacked onto the table. He stood behind Tigre, and gently took the bustier from her, lowering it to the ground. 
He held one of her breasts in his hand, squeezed it, lifted it, pinched the nipple between thumb and fingertip. He nuzzled her neck, bit her lightly. Tigre whimpered and closed her eyes. 
"Isn't she magnificent?" Firefox asked softly, almost sublimily. "Can you taste her fur, feel the muscles under her skin?" 
"Mmm," Jamison said softly. 
Firefox stepped forward, and started removing Tigre's clothes. One by one, each glove hit the rug, As Jamison kissed the tiger, held her, and the tiger hissed softly, panting. 
Firefox hesitated. It took an almost physical effort to overcome the fear which suddenly welled up as she lifted the whip off Tigre's hip and lay it, coiled, on the table with a shudder. She couldn't let it drop to the floor. The disrespect was too much for her. 
Once the whip was gone, it was easier to unbuckle Tigre's load-bearing harness, and lay it on the table. Part of Firefox's mind dispassionately looked over the equipment: lengths of chain with snaps on either end, a dildo, a taser, nipple clips, both conventional and electrified, a bit, like Lilith was using earlier. Nothing Firefox would normally consider a weapon; more like tools to humiliate and agonize and so perfect for a Tamer's job of beating down a woman who couldn't fight back. 
Firefox knelt, undid the buckles on Tigre's boots. Jamison glanced at her. Firefox nodded, and Jamison smiled and lifted Tigre off the floor. The tiger seemed surprised he was strong enough to do so, and Firefox saw him strain. 
He lay Tigre on the bed, and Firefox silently moved to the wall. 
Tigre watched, passively, as he took off his clothes, licking her lips as his erection swung out, eyes moving between it and his face. 
She lay, watching him, as though unable to believe this was happening to her, as he climbed onto her. She raised her hands, as though to ward him off, but instead held him lightly, as though uncertain. 
As he lowered himself onto her, she suddenly froze, and Firefox worried that she would demur. But instead, she reached between his legs, positioned the tip of his penis against her mons, and guided him into her as he rested his weight onto her. 
When he was entirely within her, they remained still for a long moment, looking at one another with wonder, as though unable to believe this was really happening. 
He started to move, watching her eyes for any sign of discomfort or rejection. Tigre licked her lips, sighed gently. 
Firefox sat, watching, as they quietly made love. Firefox was struck by its oddness, its other-worldliness: it wasn't an acrobatic display meant for an audience. It wasn't an exploitive fast-and-hard that would leave Tigre sore and aching after he was done. It was like watching something from another, alien world, heterosexual sex between lovers and not something bought and paid for; more like an affirmation, a logical extension and expression of something precious and mutual. 
Against this, she realized, what she had shared with Jamison and Victoria was like two damned souls brushing fingers, and pretending to find comfort there. They had been in pain and looking for something that Jamison and Saffron had found. 
She knew anything that she could do here would be an intrusion, so she sat quietly, unobtrusively, and tried not to feel the aching hole in her soul. 
Saffron shuddered, wrapping those hard, muscular legs around him as he came into her. They smiled at one another, kissing lightly, as though they still couldn't believe they had found one another. 
He fell asleep shortly after that. Saffron kissed his forehead, blinked, and noticed Firefox sitting on the chair. 
"Come here," she said. 
Firefox stood. "Yes, ma'am." She was shocked at the bitterness in her own voice. 
Tigre blinked. "That...wasn't a command," she said gently. "I want you to come here with us." 
"Won't he wake up?" 
The tiger smiled. "No. He never does." 
Firefox slipped quietly into bed, careful not to disturb him, and Tigre pulled her into her arms. 
"I'm so confused, Firefox," she said softly. "I don't know who that is or who I am." 
Firefox looked at her. "Do you trust me?" she asked. 
Tigre nodded. Firefox paused. 
"You are not the first Tigre," Firefox explained. "I don't know how many there were before you. But before you were Tigre, you were --" 
"Saff --" Tigre said, sharply, ears suddenly flat in her confusion. 
"Saffron." 
"Saffron," Tigre repeated, slowly. "I was Saffron." 
"Yes." 
"But I'm Tigre now." 
"Are you?" 
"I don't know." 
Tigre squeezed Firefox tightly. "No matter what happens now," she whispered, "I want you to know that I appreciate your bringing me to him. Master wouldn't approve... but thank you." 
Firefox embraced Tigre, as hard as she could. "Thank you, ma'am," she whispered. 
Tigre's eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious. "This isn't like you, Firefox." 
Firefox lowered her head, dropped her voice to a whisper. "Tigre, I'm tired of it." 
"Tired of what?" Tigre asked. 
"I'm sick of the beatings, I can't take any more. It's driving me mad." 
Tigre shook her head, sadly. "No, you don't understand. It's driving you sane. It's making you what you were first, and always, meant to be." Tigre reached out and touched Firefox on the face. "You're a pleasure chimera. That's nothing to be ashamed of. You're not some human whore, turning tricks because you can't handle a job, or because you need money for drugs. You're better than that. You're a living piece of art, bringing joy to the people fortunate enough to spend time with you. Humans are programmed, too -- and you are designed to be desired, and to give pleasure." 
Firefox met her eyes steadily, and slipped away. Tigre smiled. 
"You are wondering," Tigre said gently, "why it was necessary to beat you and punish you. It's because you were warped away from what you were truly meant to be. I know you don't believe that yet. But answer me some questions." 
Tigre went silent. "Yes?" Firefox asked reluctantly. 
"Has a man ever taken you as a slave without your coming? No matter how humiliating, no matter how painful it was on the struggle board, have you had a man inside you without climaxing?" 
"No," Firefox replied, honestly. 
"Was that true before you were a slave?" Tigre asked. "Did you always come from vaginal intercourse? 
Firefox hesitated. "No, not always. Sometimes my boyfriends would have to go down on me, or finger me before I came." 
"Do you think that's because the men who come to places like that are exceptionally skilled and competent lovers?" Tigre asked with a sarcastic grin. 
Firefox thought. "Master is skilled." 
"Yes," Tigre agreed. "He's exceptionally well-practiced. He's made every woman in Blue Diamond climax in his bed. He's had more women than almost every man living. Literally hundreds." She patted Firefox's belly. "His seed's been in here, in every woman in Blue Diamond. But that's not why you came for him. You came for him because he was the first to use you as a slave, to take you the way you have always been meant to be taken. But most clients here aren't as good as he is. And they wouldn't try all that hard to please you even if they were. You're there for them. They are not here for you. Isn't that true?" 
"Yes." 
"Then why do you think you enjoy it so much? Tell me the truth." 
Firefox hesitated. "I was modified as a combatant. They lowered my libido and responses." 
"And now sex for you is as intense and real as it should always have been?" 
"...Yes." 
"And again, isn't sex better since you were first taken as a slave?" 
Firefox nodded. 
"I want you to answer with words," Tigre instructed. 
"Yes," Firefox said. 
"Yes, what?" 
"Yes, ma'am." 
"No... use a full sentence. Admit it to me, and to yourself." 
Firefox licked her lips, before continuing reluctantly. "Sex is better as a slave." 
"That's right. It's right for you, it's right for your friends. Now tell me, honestly, why you want to be a good girl." 
 "I don't care any more," Firefox said. "Today, I spent the day being photographed. The day before, I was half naked in a bar. That's a huge step up for me, I think. It's not because I want to serve Master. It's not because I think it's fun, or because it's what I'm for. If a dozen cocks in my mouth means no whip that day, I'm okay with that." 
Tigre nodded slightly. "Thank you for being honest about it. That's a good first step. " 
"You think it's a first step?" 
"Yes. Most of the women here take it before they come over." 
Before they came over. Does she really think that? Firefox thought of the small acts of sullen defiance she had seen, wondered how many indicated something deeper than adolescent rebellion. The girl Lilith was tormenting -- what she did was passive, but still dangerous and brave. If Lilith had spotted Firefox and somehow managed to sound an alarm, Firefox had no doubt the girl would be dancing for Tigre right now. 
Tigre took Firefox's jaw lightly in one powerful hand, moved her eyes to look into her own. Firefox looked deeply into yellow eyes, pupils wide in the dark. 
"I'm glad to hear it," Tigre said gently. "I'm honestly happy that I won't have to beat you so much any more. You will be getting some light duty." 
"What sort, ma'am?" Firefox asked. 
Tigre was silent for a moment, accessing and considering. "Tomorrow, you have to start the day with Walton." 
Firefox bit her tongue for a long moment before answering. "If it's what you want, ma'am," she said. 
"It's ... not," Tigre said reluctantly. "I'll ... if you promise me you'll fight him, give him a good show, then we'll do it without the struggle board." 
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you. I promise." Hell, she could squirm in pain and fury or in mock outrage. Why not? 
"Thank Master," Tigre replied. "And after him, I'll see to it that you get someone with different tastes. Someone who likes his women bound, but co-operative. After that, you can work the floor again." 
"Thank you," Firefox replied, with unfeigned relief. 
Tigre paused. "Firefox, about your free day. It's scheduled for three days from now." 
"Thank you," Firefox said, surprised. 
Tigre met her gaze steadily. "You have to remember, though, that it's not really a vacation. There will be automatic cameras in the room, and you will be required to put on a show, both alone and with each slave you take in with you. You can name up to two other women." 
Firefox tilted her head. "Does it count as their day off?" 
"No. Usually, the women you invite will invite you when it's their turn. That means you get more free days if you invite other women." 
Firefox nodded. The idea of having to do only three sex acts on camera and then taking the rest of the day off was extraordinarily appealing to her, and probably more so for the other women in Blue Diamond. Tigre's eyes turned hard. "You have earned this with your good performance yesterday on the floor. Master is pleased with you." 
"Thank you, ma'am," Firefox said formally. "May I choose the two women to share my time with?" 
Tigre blinked. "Subject to approval, of course." 
"I wish I could choose my strong tiger," she said, and kissed Tigre's nose. Tigre laughed. 
"No, that would be pushing our luck," Tigre said, a little sadly. She reached out and stroked Firefox's belly, rested her hand on the fox's hip. "You should tell the other women I order you here," she said. "Don't let them think you..." 
Tigre trailed off and looked away, disturbed, knowing she couldn't finish the sentence. 
"Don't let them think I love you," Firefox said. 
Tigre looked at her, startled. Firefox smiled back. 
"Is that it?" Tigre asked, her voice shaky. "Is that why I don't like to hit you all the time, why I have to look away when you're being violated and you're suffering? Do I love you, Firefox?" 
"I can't answer that." 
"No," Tigre agreed, shortly. "No, you couldn't." She paused. "Which women would you like? I'll try to get my girl what she wants." 
Firefox wondered what it was, this thing, this emotion that flowed through Saffron, that was able to affect Tigre's behavior. But Firefox couldn't even explain her own feelings about Tigre, a mixture of impotent, suppressed rage and a love that made her strain against chain to lick her foot. 
It was with a dull ache Firefox wondered if it were her, alone, if she didn't have the responsibility for the rest of Foxforce. Could she make herself fight this woman? Would she be Tigre's dog, by her own choice? 
"Silverfox, first," Firefox responded. 
"Yes, she's a very good girl," Tigre agreed. "I'm pleased with the way she's coming around. You would have an easier time of it if you took her example." 
Wanna bet, you bitch? Firefox thought, fighting desperately to keep her face polite and submissive. 
Yes, she had to admit it. She loved Tigre. But she still responded like a spitting cat to an attack on Silverfox, an attack all the more grating because it was phrased as an approval. It was pleasing to realize that: Foxforce was still sacred to her. 
"But not Technofox or Shadowfox," Tigre said. "I don't entirely trust you with them." 
Smart girl, Firefox thought. "Then I'd like Victoria," Firefox said. 
Tigre blinked. "That I'm not sure of. She has a lot to make up for." 
Firefox looked confused. "Ma'am, she helped me quite a bit my first day on the Floor. You said it pleased Master. Victoria showed me how to behave properly." 
That was risky. Tigre bit her upper lip. Firefox was almost convinced that Victoria had tried to kill Master, and that Blue Diamond was denying it had happened, because ... well, maybe it was because they couldn't actually kill Victoria. And certainly, Tigre wouldn't admit that Victoria was still alive after trying to kill Master. It put Blue Diamond in a bizarre position, protecting a "guilty" slave because they didn't dare say why she was being punished. 
"Yes ... " Tigre said slowly. "I have to admit she's under a bit of a cloud, but she's been well behaved recently. And you two worked wonderfully together on the Floor. Yes, I think that's possible." 
Tigre looked at her, and Firefox could almost feel Saffron draining away. Tigre lay on her back. Firefox wondered if her next command would be to come with her to Master, if the Tigre subroutine in the Blue Diamond superorganism had already communicated with the rest of the system and decided Firefox was acting against the interests of Blue Diamond. It now seemed that their best hope was that Tigre's personality was isolated to some degree from the rest of the program. 
"I guess things work out in the end," Tigre said, touching Firefox's face. "I've told you before that I'd like to be a man and force myself between a slave's legs." 
She smiled softly at the memory, stroking Firefox's muzzle. Wordlessly, Firefox took her hand and kissed it, not trusting herself to speak. Tigre was speaking nostalgically about a time she had whipped Foxforce on stage, and raped Firefox with the handle of her whip. And the horrible thing didn't seem to be what Tigre had done to her, but the way the tiger reminded her that abuse had been inflicted by the same hand that now caressed her face, that lips she now longed to kiss had once smiled as she shrieked under the lash, had used and humiliated her in front of a crowd that applauded every blow, that savored her torment like some fine wine. And so Firefox kissed Tigre's hand and wondered if she would ever be sane again. 
"Fingers, girl," she ordered, half closing her eyes, relaxing against Jamison. "I want to come again." 
"Yes ma'am," Firefox said, relieved. 
Firefox tapped at the keyboard, looking up at the sleeping figures with every keystroke. She had the laptop screen turned away from them, but in the dark room, it would shine like a beacon. 
Firefox was certain that their assignments were meticulously plotted out in advance, well before the slaves were told what they would be. One of the reasons these plans were kept quiet was no doubt to make planning a breakout impossible. To conspire required a certain amount of prescience. 
But of course, this was exactly what Foxforce had to do -- they had to choose a time when they would all be unsupervised by humans or other chimera. 
There was a coded email for her, letting her know that there was "data essential for her mission" encoded in a graphics file. Except, of course, she couldn't read it. 
This made it essential that Foxforce get together with Jamison, unsupervised. Shadowfox's implant was working and she could tell them what was in the message. Once they knew what the message said, they could move forward another step. 
It was possible, although unlikely, that the information in the message might be their way out. It was frustrating to the point of madness to realize that they might have a map out, and yet be unable to read it. So how to get Shadowfox and Jamison back together? 
That was relatively easy. Firefox looked at Jamison's handheld; it was a multimedia model. She thought that was extraordinarily lucky until she remembered he was a photographer. Firefox loaded the encrypted file onto the handheld. Shadowfox spent almost every working day shackled into place, kneeling in front of a chair. 
Firefox wrote some terse instructions, feeling uncomfortable as she did it. She had never asked a man to buy a blowjob from a friend of hers before, but it seemed to be the easiest way to get the two of them together with some privacy. It wouldn't be suspicious if Jamison walked around with his handheld -- a lot of people kept theirs with them all the time. 
That would get the data to Shadowfox, but they still needed to get the four of them together at some point. Firefox rubbed her chin and considered. 
Technofox was usually chained and tormented in front of an audience.  The only times she wasn't on a leash was when she was modeling for Jamison. Firefox would have to talk her into being more co-operative -- the less time Technofox spent chained to something, the more likely they were to affect a rendezvous. Firefox realized, with distaste, that what this meant in practical terms was getting Technofox off the "rape a schoolgirl" duty and onto the "seduce a schoolgirl" circuit. 
Firefox didn't have much more freedom. was just barely beginning to convince Blue Diamond that she was a good girl, who could be trusted outside of constant supervision. She'd have to be very careful not to "backslide." 
Of the four of them, only Silverfox spent most of her days on the Floor, where she might be able to sneak out without being spotted by a human or chimera. 
They all slept in their cells together, but they certainly couldn't try to make a break from the Panopticon. There was no place where they were more certainly being watched every second, by humans and by machines. That was what the name meant. 
No, they had to pick a time when all four would be under relaxed supervision, and all at the same time. And what were the odds of that? 
If things fell into place, they would be pretty damn good. 
Milton, she wrote, you should see this message once you're out. Please try to arrange for another photo session, with Shadowfox and Technofox, in three days' time. We may try to break out then... 
Firefox stared at the screen, and added what she knew was a heartless lie: 
with Saffron. 
Firefox 
She looked at the dark letters on the glowing background. She would kill, without compunction, to get Foxforce out of this, and would feel cleaner than she felt now. 
The second message was simpler: to arrange for a boat near Blue Diamond, ready to take them off. 
She turned off the computer, and contemplated leaving Blue Diamond, and tried not to be afraid. 
It couldn't possibly work, could it? 
"Good morning," she said brightly, as Jamison started to stir. "I'll get the coffee started." 
"Aren't you having any?" he asked as she took out a cup she had rinsed and washed in the bathroom sink." 
"There's only enough for two," Firefox said, and pointed to Tigre, still sleeping on the bed. 
"Oh," Jamison said. "Well, I'm okay. You have some." 
"I couldn't --" Firefox said. She realized, with a shock, that he was asking her to do something almost unthinkable -- to have coffee which should go to Tigre and the client. She swallowed, hard. 
"No, no," he insisted. "Please. I'll just order a pot from Room Service." 
"...Okay," she said uncertainly. 
He stepped towards her, smiling. He took her in his arms; she opened her lips to let him slip his tongue into her, felt the first warm rush of excitement flow to her loins. 
"Thank you so very, very, much," he said softly. "I know it's going to be a while before she's okay again, but thank you for bringing us back together. I'm sure we'll be together for good soon." He kissed her lightly on the forehead, like a sister. 
She fought to keep the smile on her face as his words and tones cut into her. Saffron would be back; he didn't need Firefox any more. 
She told herself she was being unfair, she was being hideously selfish; Saffron and Jamison were husband and wife, and all Firefox had ever shared with him was at best a friendly hump or two, and at worst calculated and mutual exploitation. 
It didn't make her feel better. 
 "Glad to be of help," she said back. "We have to talk --" 
"Talk about what?" came a drowsy voice from the bed. 
Firefox and Jamison turned their heads sharply to the bed, as Tigre tried to detangle herself from the covers. Firefox had slept with the tiger enough to realize she was barely coherent and awake; it was very likely she wasn't even aware of what she had just asked. Jamison smiled widely, let go of Firefox and went back to his wife. 
"About coffee," he said. He lay next to Tigre, kissed her lips, moved down to her neck and throat. 
"Mrrrr..." she purred softly. She smiled. "You know how women don't like sex in the morning?" 
"I know," he replied. 
"I feel like breaking that little rule." She looked down between his legs and smiled. "I don't think you'll need too much help." 
She shifted down, and gently started licking his shaft, already erect. She used the tip of her tongue, barely touching him. He turned and moved his head between her legs. She meowed in surprise and parted her thighs. 
Firefox remembered her taste and her fragrance; the salt of her excitement, the way her clitoris and labia felt under her tongue, the way her body would quiver, involuntarily, as it grew more and more excited as Firefox worked at her, the quiet satisfaction she felt as the tiger's taut, strong body climaxed under her. 
Tigre was too anxious, too excited, too close to climaxing to let him lick her for long; she rolled on top of him, wiped his face with the back of her hand, rose on her knees, and positioned his tip against herself. 
And Firefox knew how that felt, how he would long to thrust into her, but instead would let her take him slowly into her, inching slightly deeper with each thrust, opening her gently and spreading her lube about inside her. And she knew how the tiger felt, as his hands found her breasts, stroked and caressed them, the flush of almost-pain as he playfully pinched a nipple erect and stiff with excitement, and how those delicious, firm and yet fluid breasts felt in his hands; warm, and soft, alive and passionate and excited. 
Tigre and Jamison began moving their hips, synchronized, apart and back together again. She lay down on him, their lips touched and they kissed and tasted one another, and to them, there was nothing else in the world but the universe of their partner's body. 
"I'll order the coffee," Firefox said, to nobody. 
"I wish I didn't have to go," Tigre murmured softly, kissing him again. She blinked. "I know what that sounds like," she said, suddenly defensive. "It's something a good hooker would say. It's something I'd tell you, even if I didn't mean it. But I do mean it. Can you believe me?" 
Jamison pressed her hand to his lips, and kissed. "Yes," he said firmly. "I do believe you." 
Tigre smiled shyly. "Maybe that makes you a fool," she said. 
"Possibly," he agreed amiably. 
"Firefox," she said reluctantly, "Let's go." 
Firefox met her eyes steadily. "To Walton?" she asked, briefly. 
Tigre nodded, impatiently. 
"Is that bad?" Jamison asked calmly. 
Your Saffron is going to tie me up, beat me, and let a man rape me, Firefox thought. It's what they do here. 
"It's nothing," Firefox assured him. "Nothing new." 
"Can you tell me something, Tigre?" he asked. "The other day, I heard a slave here ask me what a safeword was." 
Tigre blinked. "And?" 
"And how does a girl go about working in an S&M club without knowing what a safeword is?" he asked. 
There was a moment of silence. 
"I can only think of one way," he said. "There is no safeword. There is no acting. She's being beaten for real, as hard as her client wants to hit her. Isn't that true?" 
Tigre looked distinctly uncomfortable. God, Firefox thought. Don't let him freak out over this. They had to make it look like he was okay with all this; the last thing they needed was outrage suddenly blowing up. 
"Chimera have neural implants," Tigre said. "They can be used to send a silent message if it gets too uncomfortable. She doesn't need a spoken safeword." 
He relaxed, visibly. "Ah, good. I was worrying." He hesitated, and took out his wallet. "I'd like to tip you." 
Tigre smiled amiably. "Thank him, Firefox." 
Firefox went down on her knees and bowed her head. He patted her. "That's okay," he muttered. "I meant both of you." 
Tigre stiffened slightly. "I ... don't want money from you." 
"I understand, love. Think of it as a gift. Please?" 
Tigre considered, and nodded. 
Tigre held Firefox lightly with one hand on her upper arm. "How do I use that silent message system you mentioned in there?" Firefox asked. 
"Slaves don't have that privilege," Tigre said absently. "We monitor your anxiety levels directly. Master has decided how much pain you will accept while pleasing a guest." 
"So you lied to him?" Firefox asked, surprised and angry. Foolish, she realized, but there was some part of her that wished it were true -- that she would be able to control something about the next few hours besides how loud she cried out and how hard she struggled. 
Tigre turned on her furiously, and slapped her once, across the face, hard. Firefox was more surprised than in pain; it was as though she had forgotten that Tigre could beat her on a whim. Tigre took the dildo off her hip, shoved it into Firefox's muzzle. "Here," she said. "If you have to use your mouth, use it to hold this." 
Firefox nodded, and walked after her. A few women passed, but nobody looked twice at the fox chimera with a dildo clamped between her jaws, like a dog carrying a favorite toy. After all, that wasn't an unusual sight in Blue diamond. 
Tigre took her to one of the Torment rooms. She looked for a long time at the struggle board, and then at Firefox, considering. Firefox kept silent, but her stomach churned. 
Tigre sighed and shook her head. "Strip," she ordered. "I'll get the bars and straps out of the locker." 
Firefox smiled gratefully; she didn't say anything, not even to thank her, because she still had the dildo in her mouth. 
Firefox sat on a folding chair, near a part of the floor with a number of attachment points. She knew that soon some or all of them would be binding her in some way, holding her so she couldn't escape even if she tried. Idly, as though the question were academic, she wondered which would be binding her fast to the tile floor. Tile floor, so easy to clean. 
First, Tigre attached two straps to her knees,  and used them to anchor a spreader bar to open her for Walton. The bar rested lightly on the edge of Firefox's lap, like a short club. Tigre paused, and Firefox knew she was enjoying the sight of her privates, spread and ready to be used. Tigre lowered herself down and ran her rough tongue, twice, over her labia and clitoris, sending pleasure shivering through Firefox. Tigre looked up with a grin. "Can't resist stealing a taste. You can take that out of your mouth, now." 
Firefox kept her eyes on the tiger as she handed her the dildo. Tigre slipped it into its sheath, and took out two more lengths of chain. "Good girl. Now rest your hands on your knees." 
Firefox sat quietly as Tigre fastened the fox's wrists to the spreader bar. Firefox was sitting with a sort of dull acquiescence; like a bird terrified into passivity by a coiling snake. Part of her mind was trying to convince her that if she was just co-operative, Tigre would let her go as a reward. Ridiculous how a fantasy like that could take hold, and even dominate, no matter how absurd she rationally knew it was. Yes, it was terribly, terribly important not to get Tigre angry, even though Tigre was trussing her up so she could be taken by a man she hated. 
"Good so far," Tigre said absently. "Now get out of the chair and kneel." Firefox did so. Did Aztec sacrifices feel this way? Numb with shock, only able to look a few seconds into the future at a time? 
Tigre locked one end of the bar to the floor, and threaded a cable through a traction device, connecting one end to the other end of the bar. She turned Firefox slightly, then inched her backwards, lining up the bar between the two fastening points as closely as possible. Tigre then took the loose end of the cable and, in a motion that reminded Firefox of a servant lacing Madam into a corset, pulled sharply as hard as she could, muscles bulging under her fur. The bar barely shifted. Firefox tried to move it, experimentally; it was almost as though it were bolted to concrete. 
"Now  lean forward," Tigre ordered. "Face on the floor." 
Firefox obeyed immediately, and Tigre turned Firefox's collar, D-ring on the floor. She threaded a chain through, connecting it to a ring on the floor, close to Firefox's head. 
"You've got a little slack on the leash," Tigre said, "but you want to be careful that you don't raise your head too high. He'll be pushing you forward, from here," she said, patting Firefox's rump lightly. She left her hand there. "He'll have a lot of leverage. He'll drive your head down against the floor, so careful of that." 
"Thank you, ma'am," Firefox finally spoke. 
Tigre then took a strap, and wrapped it around the middle of Firefox's tail. She attached a strap to that and to Firefox's collar. Firefox stiffened. She had seen this used in photographs, but she had never had her tail restrained before. Tigre carefully tightened the strap, slowly until Firefox's tail was bent double against her back, leaving her buttocks, anus, and pubes exposed from the rear. Firefox licked her lips. 
There was one more thing, one last thing that might spare her some pain. "Ma'am, Walton will be watching me get my ten strokes, yes?" 
"Yes," Tigre said, her voice suddenly distant. 
"Ma'am, if you go easy on me, I'll scream and fight for you. You know that I'm trying to be a good girl, and that you don't have to hit me hard. I'll put on a good show for you ma'am, just please don't, please don't --" 
Firefox cut herself off, because she knew she was close to babbling hysterically. 
Tigre sighed softly, as though she were about to deny a dangerous toy to a child, for its own good, of course. 
"I'm not going to be beating you today," she explained. "You're going to be working with another tamer here." 
"Another..." Firefox said slowly. Of course. It made perfect sense, in retrospect. Tigre was a big bitch, strong and tough; she'd be given someone dangerous like Firefox. Once Firefox ceased to be quite so dangerous, other trainers would start working on her. 
It was a cruel joke, in a way. Just when Tigre was softening towards her-- 
"Thank you, ma'am," Firefox said, her voice cracking. 
Tigre actually flinched. "I'm sorry, I really am. And I believe you. I know you're trying to be a good girl, and I believe you when you say you'd put on a good show for me. You've done it before. Work with her, prove you're a good girl. I should tell you what she wants." 
Firefox sighed and shook her head. 
"It's important," Tigre said sternly. "It's what I told you earlier. She wants to see you fight." 
"Yes, ma'am," Firefox said, miserably. 
"And if you don't, she'll press a button and your implant will --" 
"-- Stimulate my rage centers, like you did to me before," Firefox said bitterly. "I remember." She hesitated. "Ma'am." 
Tigre burst into laughter and patted Firefox's rump affectionately. "That's my girl," she said, with a smile in her voice. "I can't wait to get you in my bed again." Tigre hesitated. "I've had girls shrieking in my bed, I've had them pissing themselves with fear when I ordered them into it, but I'd rather have you, compliant, then violate any of them. You're my girl. The best I've ever had, and my favorite for now." 
Firefox laughed in reply, and she realized that despite everything, she would rather sleep with Tigre than in her own cell. She felt more than a little guilty for that: Shadowfox was an excellent and enthusiastic lover, and she loved Shad to death -- but Firefox knew that at the same time, there was part of her that was proud and happy to be Tigre's dog, curled up metaphorically at the foot of her bed. 
And it was entirely without acting or pretense that Firefox kissed Tigre, straining painfully at her chains to reach her foot, knowing that she'd be suffering shortly at the hands of strangers, but still prideful in the awareness that Tigre, that this powerful and dangerous and cruel creature, lusted for her. Tigre was with her right now, and Tigre was happy, so Firefox was happy. 
Soon after that, the tiger padded away, leaving a kiss between Firefox's legs that the fox could still feel minutes later. 
Firefox was left alone there for some time; exactly how long, she didn't know, and didn't really care. Every second was a treasure, a moment of time she wasn't being harassed, and she was grateful for it. She only wished she could stop thinking. 
Handed over to other tamers? Well, it wasn't like she would never be handled by Tigre again; and maybe (here she actually shuddered with excitement) maybe even now Shadowfox was downloading information which would get them out in two short days. Maybe this wasn't a problem at all -- just put up with the new tamers for -- 
The door opened. 
She recognized him by his footstep immediately; even before his thin, light voice reached her. By his gait, he was walking with his arm around a woman; at first, Firefox could not hear her footfall at all; just a single tap - tap - tap, as though someone were on stilts. She listened more intently, and then realized it was a woman with a cane, and a footstep as light as a shadow's. 
Her fragrance washed over Firefox before she heard her. She smelled fur, and an indefinable essence of cat. Firefox sometimes wondered at the language chimera would develop if they didn't speak English -- fewer words for color, more words for smells? 
And then Walton spoke. 
"Ah," he said, sounding quite pleased. "I believe I've met her before. If I'm not mistaken, intimately." 
"Chili knows me, too," the woman lied, smoothly. Firefox turned her head, and saw her for the first time. 
She was a tiny thing. Walton was not a big man, but she fit comfortably under his arm. Her fur was a rich yellow, spotted with the open circles of a leopard, chin and throat a bright white, eyes large and green and bottomless. Her hair was golden, waist-length, braided tightly into intricate cornrows. Firefox suddenly noticed that she had seen a lot of waist-length hair recently. 
The tamer's cane was split bamboo, or a good simulation; her clothing was a simple bra and skirt, long enough that Firefox couldn't see if she wore panties. Her bra matched her collar; black leather, chrome studs. A tamer. 
"She's screamed for me many times," she went on, looking directly into Firefox's face. "There's nothing I like more than beating this bitch until she begs to lick me." 
Her voice was so confident that Firefox actually wondered if it had actually happened, and that she, Firefox, had simply forgotten about her somehow. But that seemed more than just a little unlikely; Firefox was sure her scent was unfamiliar. 
"But I don't think she knows my name, does the nasty little slutty thing?" she asked, smiling. "She can't name half the men and women she's made come with her mouth alone, can she?" 
Firefox glared at her, and looked away. This tamer was lying, lying extravagantly and obviously. 
The tamer waited for a reaction before going on. "My name is Cheshire." She looked Firefox over. "Anything you want to say before we begin? No?" 
Cheshire swung the cane up, twirled it twice, with a loud roaring noise, stepping around behind Firefox. The fox gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, knowing that the way she was bound, there was only one place it could fall. 
It cracked hard, drawing a line of fire across her buttocks. She was prepared for it, but she still cried out, and it still drove her forward, her cheek hitting against the ground, dazing her for a moment before the pain hit her and she held her breath to avoid moaning. She could hear Cheshire walking, feather light though her footfall was, as she took a step, the cane roared, and a second blow drove Firefox forward again. 
Despite her own pain and fear, Firefox remained together enough to realize that Cheshire was doing a kendo kata, using the cane as a practice sword. A third time the cane roared, barely missing her, as she yelped in fear. This wasn't good. She could feel her nerve starting to crack. Cheshire continued to turn, and landed the blow after another full rotation. 
After five blows, Firefox was sobbing uncontrollably. Cheshire walked around her, smiling, twirling the cane in one hand; Firefox's ass was so sore she almost wished the last five blows would land on her arms and ribs. It wasn't just the pain; it was the sheer indignity of where she was being hit. Cheshire stood, looking down at Firefox, clearly wondering what she should do next. 
Still, Firefox thought, this was much easier than being beaten by Tigre. Firefox hadn't yet lost count of the blows. She knew there were five left. And Cheshire was distributing the blows across the curve of her buttocks, instead of hitting the same welt, over and over again. Cheshire was more interested in putting on a good show that maximizing Firefox's pain. 
"It's a little warm in here," Cheshire murmured softly. "Would you like to take off my top, sir?" 
Walton laughed. "What a showgirl you are, Cheshire," he chuckled. He walked over to her, unfastened her bra, and pushed it off her shoulders. He stroked her breasts as she chuckled softly and shook the bra off her arms, letting it drop to the floor. She looked up at him with a smile, then licked his face. Firefox wondered, hoped, that this meant he wouldn't be raping her today, but she knew how forlorn that hope was. 
"You are an enchanting little witch," he said, pinching a nipple as she gasped in pleasure. "I almost wish I could have you tonight." 
"I'd like that, sir. All you need to do," Cheshire said with a grin, "is put it on your card." She kissed his lips, hopping up a little. She then turned from him, letting him trail his hand over her small, firm breast, before she brought the tip of her cane up again. 
"Stop," Firefox said, her nerve suddenly cracking. "Ma'am, please stop." 
The sixth blow came down, landing firmly in Firefox's butt crack. Firefox screamed on that one. 
"No," Cheshire said casually. 
"Ma'am, please," Firefox said. "I'll fuck you, I'll fuck both of you --" 
Cheshire dropped low, swinging the can horizontal, almost parallel to the floor, breaking upwards at the last moment to crack against Firefox's buttocks. 
"Not much fight in her, is there?" Cheshire said grimly. 
Somehow, that triggered something in her; set off some hidden reserve of strength she had never tapped. "Bitch!" Firefox screamed. "Damn you!" 
Again, the cane struck. Firefox gritted her teeth; instead of screaming, she made a loud hissing noise. 
"Tell me you love me," Cheshire teased her. 
"Up yours, fur cunt," Firefox growled. 
That was strangely satisfying, even though it made very little sense for Firefox to call someone else a "fur cunt," and even though it was followed by the ninth blow. 
"One more chance," Cheshire said, tapping the end of the cane on the ground in front of Firefox's nose. "Tell me you love me." 
Firefox was too bleary to realize that Cheshire was waiting for something to provoke a last, tenth blow. "I'll sit on your face and piss in your mouth before I'll tell you that," Firefox replied, perfectly seriously. 
The last blow almost knocked her unconscious. Firefox panted, trying to keep from fainting. 
"Careful," Walton said, alarmed. "Her tongue's between her teeth." 
Cheshire shrugged. "I can't hit her again anyway," she said. "That was her fiftieth stroke today." 
"Quite the incorrigible, isn't she?" Walton asked. 
"Yes, sir," Cheshire said, glowering at Firefox. "But she'll break. Would you like me to get her wet for you, sir?" She sat down, smiled at her. "That's what little fox girl needs, isn't it?" She put her hand on Firefox's stomach and rubbed. "Some nice warm come inside you, hmm?" Firefox glared at her, and looked away. It was obvious what was coming, and she dreaded it. 
"No, thank you," Walton said. "I'd rather hurt her a bit." Firefox heard a sound; clothing hitting the floor. 
Cheshire stood, and unfastened her skirt at the hip. "I hope you don't mind, sir," she explained. "I don't like wearing more clothes than my man." 
"Oh. Am I your man, then?" 
Cheshire shrugged, embarrassed, holding up her skirt. "Well, beating these miserable little bitches always gets me hot, sir," she said. "I haven't had the pleasure of having you inside me, but I feel a bit like we've been sharing sex since yesterday." She lowered her eyes, and dropped her skirt on the floor. 
The fur over her groin was unusually thick, almost a pubic patch. She kept her eyes lowered, rested her hand between her legs, and as though it were an accident, touched herself and shivered. 
"I had a girl do me last night, with a strap on," she said. "I pretended it was you." She looked away. Firefox didn't believe it for a second, but only because she knew Cheshire had already lied. 
He walked around Firefox, and came into her view. He was naked, his penis stirring slightly as he walked. Cheshire lifted her eyes, first to his face, then dropped them to stare, fascinated, at his member. He took her in his arms, and she looked up at him, with wonder. 
"Would you like me to take you?" he asked. 
She nodded, slowly. "Yes, yes sir." 
He smiled and shook his head. "I'm an old man, little witch." He pointed down at Firefox. "I need that hate." 
She nodded, disappointed. "I understand, sir. Can I ... " she looked down, looked back up, slipped out of his arms and went to her knees. 
She rested one hand between her legs, and started masturbating lightly. With the other, she took his half-erection and brought it to her lips. 
"It's so sweet," she said softly, tasting it, and then taking him into her mouth, moaning softly. 
Her crotch was almost in Firefox's face, and she watched as Cheshire switched hands, getting him erect, and at the same time lubricating his tip with her mouth and with her own nectar. Cheshire looked down at her. "You're such a lucky girl," she said, and grinned. "So lucky to get so much attention from so many good, strong dicks like this one." Firefox shook her head, bewildered. Cheshire had just finished giving her ten, and now she was lubing him for her. 
He patted Cheshire's head and gently withdrew. Cheshire looked disappointed, but obedient, and watched as he walked around Firefox. 
He went to her knees. Firefox gritted her teeth. She dreaded this. 
She felt his warm tip against her mons, and shifted her ass away, but he held firmly to her, an arm around her belly, pushing her hard against her bonds and the floor, leaning his weight against her. And once his tip was inside her, he grabbed her with his other arm, applying pressure, forcing his penis into her vagina. 
And Firefox knew this was it, that there would be no more delay or waiting, that what she dreaded most was happening. Not the beating, not the rape; Firefox was not yet beyond feeling outrage when taken against her will. But what she dreaded more was the pleasure, warm and glowing, her loins celebrating her own violation and turning it into ecstasy. 
Her moan was deep, heartfelt, and entirely involuntarily. Women don't feel like this, she tried to argue with herself. Insertion is nice, but not this nice, and not when it's rape, done by a man who wants you to suffer... 
"You're not really a woman," she imagined Walton telling her. "You're a thinking sex toy shaped like a woman." 
His hands grabbed roughly at her breasts, sharp pleasure from her nipples, and she fought, tried to squeeze him out, not because she wanted to put on a good show for him, but because her anger and hate was beyond reason; fighting him and cursing him even though she knew it would make him drive into her harder. Her buttocks were sore and every time his hips thrust forward against them, a spasm of pain went down through her thighs and up her back, but she heard herself growling her pleasure at him, even as she struggled against his grasp, mingling curses, weak threats, gasps of pain, and hoarse moans of pleasure. 
Cheshire knelt before her, grabbed her hair roughly, forced Firefox's mouth against her own groin. Firefox didn't consciously think about it. It was the most natural thing in the world: a woman's mons was open in front of her; it had to be tasted. 
Immediately, Firefox put out her tongue, and started licking, loudly, as though she were drinking out of a bowl of water. Cheshire gave a small meep of surprise when Firefox tasted her clitoris, and smiled as the fox began working at her earnestly, slipping her tongue deep between her pubic lips, drinking deeply at her loins as Cheshire's touch, suddenly gentle, trailed around her ears and hair. 
Cheshire's groin was barely flecked with dew when Firefox started, but she soon grew wet, both from Firefox's tongue and her own flow, matting the thick fur between her legs. Cheshire started to breathe deeply, and then began panting. 
His hands suddenly went off Firefox's breasts and grabbed at Cheshire's; instantly, Cheshire devoted her attention to him, and they began to kiss as he squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples, but continued to drive into Firefox, fucking her while caressing another woman; both of their genitals using Firefox for stimulation as they stroked, licked, and kissed one another. 
Despite his driving into her from behind and the ministrations Firefox was paying to this woman, this stranger, Firefox abruptly compiled a mental list: Tiomkin, Master, Tigre, Jamison, Walton, the other man whose name I never learned, Lilith, Victoria, now Cheshire, even Technofox and Shadowfox. As a free woman, she had made love to eight men and three women. As a slave, six more women and five more men. Half and half. Did Tiomkin count? Was she really wondering if jerking off on her breasts "counted" as sex? 
Half her lovers had been as a pleasure slave. 
With that thought, she climaxed; gasping. She rested her head on the floor for a moment as he continued to pound her. She resumed licking at Cheshire, and moments later felt her quiver and twitch in orgasm under her tongue. Firefox felt him tense, drive deep one last time, and shoot his warmth into her. Firefox collapsed, exhausted, as far as her bonds would allow. 
"Incredible," he sighed. "She's the most magnificent woman I've ever used." 
He pulled out, giving her a little twinge as his head came out. "Hate me all you want," he said smugly, "but who makes you come?" 
Firefox shook her head, wearily. She was too exhausted, too drained by her own orgasm, her mouth was too dry. Still, she forced it out. 
"Fucking rapist. I'll fucking kill you." It was a promise. 
He chuckled, and slapped her buttocks hard enough to make her wince. Cheshire stood, and embraced him for a long moment. "You make her an animal," she said, and shook her head. She licked him, as though in admiration. "I shoved my pussy in her face, and she went for it like a dog after a rabbit." She kissed him. "Thanks. You really bring something out in her." 
She knelt before him, cleaning him with her tongue. He stood, hands on his hips, a soft smile on his face as a second woman licked Firefox and his own semen off from him. 
"I have to stay here with her," Cheshire said, half-apologetically. "We'll be working for the rest of the day." 
"Thank you for your time," he said. "But please -- don't dress until I leave. You're beautiful, and I'd like to look at you some more." 
"Thank you, sir." 
As he dressed, she brought a folding stool in front of Firefox, and filled a small bowl with water. Sitting in front of her, she washed her groin and then the pads of her feet, turning the water a light gray. She pushed the bowl under Firefox's nose. "Drink," she said curtly. Firefox turned away, with revulsion. "Drink," she insisted, as the door closed. 
Firefox gritted her teeth and started to lap the water up. It tasted of salt, but she was thirsty, and overall it was what she needed. 
"You can stop," Cheshire said. "Let me get you some fresh water." 
Firefox heaved a deep sigh of relief. She wasn't sure how much of it was an act with this woman -- she had earlier claimed to have been working on Firefox, as though she had been training her. "Thanks." 
"I'm not as formal as Tigre," Cheshire said coldly, "but I insist on a little fucking respect." 
Firefox was bound helplessly, and Cheshire had her cane, and could hit her another forty times. "Your pardon, ma'am," she said, faking a croak. "It's hard to talk, ma'am. Thank you for the clean water, ma'am." 
"Too little, too late," Cheshire said lightly. "Finish what you've got before I give you more." 
She went to a refrigerator, took out a clear bottle, sweating with cold. "What's the big deal, anyway? You've licked feet clean; you've licked between my legs. By now there can't be many places that tongue of yours hasn't been." 
She opened her water and downed half in a long pull. "Nothing quite like some nice cold water after a job, is there? Normally, I'd untie you now, but I think you're a little too comfortable as it is." 
Firefox looked at the water. She shrugged and continued to drink. 
"Smart girl," Cheshire said. She poured out the dirty water and filled the bowl from her bottle. "Consider that lesson one," Cheshire said. "It's the easiest thing in the world for me to make you suffer. If you're not afraid of me, I'll make you afraid." 
"Yes, ma'am," Firefox replied. She finished gulping the water down. 
"Tell me," Cheshire asked, "did you ever imagine that some day you would lick a woman's feet for water?" 
Firefox hesitated. 
"No, ma'am," she said. 
"Have you ever considered what you're here for? And don't try to pull any of that 'I'm-a-free-woman' stuff with me. You're a slave cunt. What's a slave cunt for?" 
Firefox looked away, stonily. Cheshire paused. "I'll count to five and get the cane. One. Two --" 
"To make money for Blue Diamond, ma'am," Firefox replied instantly. 
Cheshire lifted her brows. "Very astute," she complimented her. "Most slaves are too simple to think that way. Entirely wrapped up in themselves, they are, so focused on avoiding the whip or cane they can't think or plan or understand. I don't think I've ever heard a girl in your position able to come up with that answer. Tigre said you were sharp, but I always figured that was because you were her favorite tongue this week." 
"This month at least, ma'am. With respect." Firefox was actually angry. 
"That's true enough," Cheshire admitted. "I don't remember the last time she used her off time to screw the same bitch for two weeks running. Usually, she gets bored with women before that." She settled down next to Firefox. "Don't say anything, don't confirm or deny it. I get the sense you actually like it with her. I don't know how you can bear up under her -- when she gets rough, she gets rougher than we let our clients get." 
How could Firefox explain it, when she barely understood herself? Tigre didn't beat her the way Tigre enjoyed hurting others, but there was still something cruel in the way the tiger treated her; she would wake her if she wanted sex in the middle of the night, had never asked if she could do something for her, she ordered her about in bed, would take without asking, would even slap her if Firefox was inattentive or careless. 
 Yet worse than the occasional violence were the times Tigre would gently criticize Firefox's performance, worse because Firefox knew that Tigre was doing it to make Firefox a better sex slave, teaching her techniques to use on others, and that Tigre didn't even feel the need to pretend they were a couple. 
But despite all that, maybe once a night, Tigre would suddenly do something kind that made up for all that. She would thrust less hard when Firefox gasped in pain. She would put lube on her dildo. 
Anywhere outside of Blue Diamond, Firefox realized, it would be an abusive relationship, brutally so. In Blue Diamond, it was precious to her. 
"It's to your credit," Cheshire said. "I salute you. For that, I'll give you a customer tonight. Do him good and he'll tip you." 
Firefox hesitated. What she really wanted was to see the others in Foxforce that night, to find out what was in the message from home. Perhaps if she acted up a little, Cheshire would revoke the "reward" ... but there was the risk Cheshire would apply more punishment. And the thought of that cane lashing against her sore and abused flesh was stomach turning. No, she couldn't. 
"Thank you, ma'am." 
"Yes, you are ultimately here to make money. But step back from that for a moment, and think like an empty-headed little whore for a moment. What are you here for?" 
Firefox hesitated, not because she didn't know how to phrase it, but because she didn't know the answer. "For sex." 
"Possibly. Give me a better answer than that." 
"To crawl, to lick the floor, to bow to customers." 
"Now that is the answer Tigre flogged into you," Cheshire said, resting one foot comfortably on Firefox's back, "It's a good start. But it's not the whole answer. Being a slave is a complicated thing. Tigre does not train slaves. She simply makes them receptive to training." 
She lifted her cane and thumped the end against the floor. "For half the cunts in Blue Diamond, this is all the why they need. But I think you're beyond that. I know the answer. You don't  And that's why you're tied up afraid of my cane. Try again." 
"Ma'am, in all honesty and with all respect, I don't know," Firefox said, trying to keep her voice level. Any moment now, Cheshire would give her the extra forty. And she almost fainted, just thinking of that, remembering the fifty Master had given her that day that seemed so long ago. 
"That's okay," Cheshire said gently. "I used to be a free chimera. I once wondered if I could force myself to sleep with men I didn't know. Tigre helped me over that. I had to crawl at Tigre's feet before I learned to stand again. You, I think, can do the same." 
"Thank you, ma'am. Why am I here?" By now, Firefox was genuinely curious. 
A smile flicked over Cheshire's face. "You are here to give the customer what they want. You are not here to make love to them. That's entirely secondary. You are here to be the woman they truly want. Bitch, lover, whore, submissive, dominant, enthusiastic partner. You have to smell their desire and give it to them. Even if they don't know what they want themselves, even if they can't tell you, you have to work it out and become that woman for them." 
She tapped her cane again, meditating, not threatening. "Take Walton. Wait, you just did." She smiled. "I should say, let's use him for an example. He thinks he wants power, someone helpless under him. But he really wants a fan. By coming when he rapes you, you complement him as a lover. I'm giving him that by being very impressed with him. He'll be fucking me within a few visits, and he hasn't gotten it up for an unchained woman for years." 
"You're saying that you'll be taking over for me, ma'am?" Firefox asked, hopefully. 
Cheshire shot her a look. "I'm saying we'll be a team, you and me," she said. "He likes hurting women, and he probably always will to some extent." Cheshire shrugged. "Better you than me, I think." 
Bitch. "Yes, ma'am," Firefox said, her voice level. "If I work with you, will you hit me less hard next time, ma'am?" 
"That's the right attitude," Cheshire said encouragingly. She patted Firefox's head. "It's not just about having a tight pussy and a relaxed ass and being able to tickle his cock with your tonsils. It's about accepting that you're in show biz." 
She bounced to her feet. "Yes, next time I won't hit you so hard. You're doing well. We have an hour before your client for the night is ready for you. Now, let's talk about Walton, and how you and I are going to make him happy next time." 
Firefox was showered, brushed, dried. She wore a t-shirt, cheap, white, nicked for tearing. A pair of panties barely covered her vulva, a seam slipping between her lips to show her cleft.  She rested her left ankle next to the eye on the foot of the bed; Cheshire hooked a chain to the D-ring on Firefox's bonds and clicked it onto the bed. 
Firefox still felt anxiety when she was tied up. Still, she knew that anything that would be done to her on a bed would be much better than what would be done to her if she fought. In a sense, she realized with distaste, she had been tamed. 
"What will he do to me, ma'am?" Firefox asked. She was already afraid, imagining a beating. 
Cheshire tutted. "Don't ask what he will do to you. Your only concern should be how you will please him." 
"That's what I meant, ma'am," Firefox lied. Cheshire smiled again, and Firefox could see she had given the jaguar what she wanted. 
"Good question," Cheshire said. "Walton wants to violate, to outrage. Your other regular, Jamison, he likes to pretend his whores like him. This guy is somewhere in between. He thinks you're reluctant, but that it's not a big deal for you. He'll expect you to say no." 
All of Firefox's anxiety vanished at that, replaced with another terror. 
Jamison had other women? 
Why hadn't he told her? Was he hiding something? 
"You're set," Cheshire said, and patted Firefox lightly on the stomach. It suddenly struck Firefox that Cheshire, unlike the guards and Tigre, hadn't taken advantage of her when she was tied up. Firefox felt very, very alone when the door closed. 
She heard his step outside; her heart turned to ice as she recognized it. Then the door opened, and scent reached her; her lips pulled back from her teeth, and she snarled, hackles rising as she jerked her arm helplessly against the chain. 
"You," she growled.