PRECIOUS CARGO @Copyright 1999, Maureen. All rights reserved. Part 23 Windrunner's ears perked up, listening to the conversation without taking part, Fodessa's skritching sending frissons of pleasure through him. But he wished he could see Panchiti more clearly, without her and Quong sitting in the way. Panchiti asked about the two bodyguards, but Fodessa politely discouraged him. "You don't want to know," she said, waving her free paw. "Things have really heated up in my sector. But if you do, I'll tachyon-mail you later." "Then let's talk about more pleasant things tonight," he said, and the wolf could tell from his voice that he was smiling. Their idea of pleasant conversation wasn't especially exciting. Soon they were deeply involved in a dry business discussion, about tariffs on Open Planets, about spaceport traffic problems at a planet he'd never heard of, about how Panchiti had spent the recent religious holiday on Buddhatha. The other wolf's name was Jagran, and he was Panchiti's second in command. He spoke only occasionally, though he didn't seem to be a slave or even a submissive, from what Windrunner could tell with his scent and the subtle intonations of his voice. Fodessa's paw left off skritching Windrunner's neck, and he began to lose interest in the thread of the conversation. To occupy his time, he began looking around. A waterbuck doe, wearing only a scanty wrapping of black leatherette over her pert breasts, sipped her own drink as she conversed with a huge white tigress in the colorful robes of Singhit. On the tigress's other side sat a male red kangaroo, in the off-the-shoulder scarlet robe of the Woorragurn minority on Singhit. Beside him, a male dingo sat collared but otherwise naked. His face, with its half-closed slanting eyes and relaxed ears, bore the sleepy expression that has earned dingoes their stereotype of being lazy. A gold ring pierced his left nipple. Meanwhile, a more animated chiru antelope smiled, ears flicking, as an elegant-looking leopardess scratched the back of his neck, under his long horns. He wore no collar, so he wasn't her personal slave. A lone male pronghorn took a drink from a crystal-clear goblet, then noticed the wolf's gaze and smiled back at him. Windrunner's nostrils flared, taking in the combined scents of nearly thirty furries in the room. Underneath that, he could catch the lingering scents of food and of sex from previous shows, an indistinguishable melange of hundreds of different species in various states of arousal. He felt the beginning of a hard-on. Beside him, Caitlin was whispering something into Katie's ear, too softly for even his wolf ears to hear, and he saw her shudder. He wondered uneasily what would happen when the "dessert" appeared. Would he be permitted or commanded to take part? Or would she simply order him to kneel against the wall or something and watch helplessly while she satisfied herself? Now four uniformed waiters entered the hall, pushing two big carts laden with more glasses and goblets and pitchers. They made the rounds of the great table, furnishing the furs with the drinks of their choice: catnip-scented wine, beer, scented waters from three or four different manufacturers, deska (a Perion specialty), even dinner coffee and tea. Fodessa looked up from her conversation. "I'll have the Pharseen coffee, extra cream," she ordered. Windrunner had hoped to have a beer -- it had been a long time since he'd been permitted one. But Fodessa went on, "-- and a glass of the muskergen-scented water for my wolf here." The waiter, a raccoon in Bessie's red and gold uniform, placed a goblet in front of him and filled it. Dosh and Quong accepted only water, smelling their glasses carefully before drinking. Caitlin tried to order catnip wine, but Fodessa abruptly countermanded him. "You'll get buzzed. I know you. Waiter, give him another coffee instead." Caitlin's ears and whiskers drooped, his smell turning embarassed. Chuckles sounded from other furries overhearing the conversation. In a low voice, he ordered another scented water for Katie. Windrunner sipped the water. The muskergen scent is a subtle thing, a hint of musk with generalized artificial pheromones that act on most species of furries. It's exactly the sort of thing you sip if you want to get horny. Did this mean Fodessa going to let him get off? Or was this just to frustrate him? Her conversation with Panchiti turned interesting again. "-- a new mini-stable," Panchiti was saying. "Looks just like a stable for nonsentient horses, only smaller, of course. I think it'll be a marvelous humiliation for the hoofed ones - keeping them like mere animals." Fodessa's ears perked. "How much like mere animals?" she asked, grinning. Panchiti leaned back in his chair, so that Windrunner couldn't see him easily. "Let's put it this way," his voice sounded, "I've got actual straw on the floor." A brief pause. "It would give servo-cleaners fits if I used them, but it's worth it!" Fodessa chuckled, and Caitlin guffawed. Windrunner felt his penis swell again. Panchiti went on. "And they'll have their arms bound behind their backs, with head halters and bridles." "Very humbling, I'm sure," Fodessa purred. "Now me, I still rely on good old anal humiliation - especially for males. It's hard for a slave to get too full of himself when he's full of my first mate's cock - or a dildo!" The clouded leopards laughed together, echoed by Caitlin. Windrunner didn't see what Quong's reaction was. He felt his ears trying to flatten right into his neck, his tail trying to clamp between his legs and encountering only the padded surface of the bench. "Tell me, is he wearing a dildo right now?" Panchiti asked. Damn him to a furless hell! "No, he's not at the moment." She looked over at him. "Go on, finish your drink." Dinner was served all too long a wait later, with the waiters wheeling in more carts laden with dishes and drinks. Once again, Fodessa ordered for him - a plate of thinly sliced nonsentient caribou haunch with only a light garlic sauce, and a refill on the muskergen. She obviously didn't intend for him to gorge himself into lethargy. His hardon got harder as he ate. Fodessa munched daintily on venison medallions in burgundy sauce. At long last, the plates and glassware were cleared. The anticipation level rose, the room reeking of furry arousal, as the guests awaited the "dessert" . . . . . . And then a tall, slender, elegant figure appeared in the entrance, and all conversation suddenly hushed. It was a male mountain lion, his sleek fur dyed silvery-gray. He wore a frilly gray silk blouse that shimmered in the electric torchlight, with tight linen trousers that were just a shade darker. Several chains of silver necklaces encircled his throat. He smiled down at the sitting furries. "Good evening, gentlefurs," he intoned, and his voice was musical, tinged by a lilting accent. "I am Hlong Quadmi, and I'm the master of ceremonies for this evening. You have waited patiently, for which I thank you. Now, your wait is over. "I remind you all gently of the rules here: don't injure the 'dessert', and be courteous. Other than that, you may enjoy it in the fashion that you please, and if it should prove too tough, ask one of our attendants - " he nodded at a nearby smirking female jaguar, dressed in Bessie's uniform but flourishing a nasty-looking black riding crop - "to help soften up the skin." Chuckles sounded in the hall. Windrunner's heart seemed to stop. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. All around, bustling attendants were now dragging in huge long cushions, padded footstool-like affairs, pillows, and placing them against the walls of the great dining hall. "Otherwise," Hlong said, "if you need anything more, simply ask one of our attendants to fetch it for you. Please enjoy yourselves!" He was answered by a solid round of applause, in which Fodessa and Caitlin joined. More attendants appeared in the doorways - now pushing antigrav-equipped carts, each cart holding an enormous silver covered dish. They began pushing the carts toward the great dining table. The air was so thick with the smells of different species' sexual pheromones, Windrunner was sure he could chew it. He became aware that he was so hard, it almost hurt. Direct comments and criticism to: maureen_lcn@yahoo.com .