PRECIOUS CARGO PART 3

Original copyright @Maureen Lycaon, 1998. Rewritten May, 
2000. All rights reserved, but permission granted to make 
one copy for personal use.



   Windrunner knelt obediently before Fodessa, wrists crossed 
behind his back, thighs well apart to utterly expose his 
erection.
   The clouded leopard studied the wolf closely. He'd been taught 
the correct position, at any rate. His pink-red lupine penis was 
now completely hard. He was looking directly at them -- Caitlin 
had taught him that much already. He had lovely green eyes in a 
strong-boned yet refined lupine face, now reflecting his arousal 
and curiosity.
   She nodded to Caitlin. "Go take care of the vixen." He bowed 
and walked out.
   The wolf remained on his knees, waiting. A difficult thing for 
a wolf, remaining patiently in one position, for the species 
seemed programmed for restless motion; yes, he'd definitely 
received training.
   Now she'd find out how good it was.
   "Let's get acquainted," she told him. "I'm Fodessa Ruggae, the 
captain and owner of this ship, the Satisfaction. The black 
panther is Caitlin, who serves under me. He'll be taking care of 
you when I'm not. Obey him in all things, just as you would me. 
Do you understand me?"
   "Yes, Mistress Fodessa," the wolf replied. His voice was 
another unexpected pleasure, rich and deep, a piquant contrast to 
his submission. It sent a tiny shock wave through her loins.
   "Good. Make obeisance to me."
   She waited, giving no further instructions, to see how he'd 
been trained to do it.
   He lowered himself to all fours and crawled to her feet. She 
had prepared while Caitlin did his work: her nakedness was 
compromised by thigh-high black leather boots. He lowered his 
head and began to lick at her boots.
   "Stop!" Fodessa ordered. He stopped, glancing up, and she 
could see his puzzlement.
   "That's not how I wish it," she told him. "Just kiss them, 
gently, and work your way up."
   He wasted no time in amending his error. He started over, 
kissing the toe of one boot, planting more kisses along the way 
to the ankle, and then up the shin. His technique was good: slow, 
in no hurry to get this over with, using the total concentration 
the task deserved, concentrating on getting it right. Even so --
   "Stop!" she ordered again. He obediently halted.
   "Kiss both boots, each in turn. And it's permissible to work a 
bit faster."
   He started over again. Now, he had to move from side to side 
to kiss each boot, a difficult maneuver to make while still on 
his knees.
   Fodessa loved making a slave work for it like this, rocking 
from side to side, craning his neck, tail in the air. The effect 
was delightfully accentuated by the bare buttocks; from her 
angle, she could just barely see them peeking up from the long 
fur above. Those round pink fesses seemed to beg for punishment, 
or at least handling.
   He worked his way upward, kissing along each ankle up to her 
shins, her knees. He planted a series of kisses along her thighs 
until he reached her pale-furred groin, then hesitated; he wasn't 
sure if she wanted him to kiss her there without specific orders.
   She smothered her grin. "Now, kiss my pubis -- then the hood 
of my clitoris -- and keep your mouth against it without moving, 
until I tell you what to do next."
   She felt that muzzle and those humble lips against her female 
places as he obeyed, feeling the familiar shock at the touch on 
her clitoral hood. He stopped, mouth against her as he'd been 
told.
   Fodessa smiled. So far, so good. She admired the sight, the 
sleek gray wolf head with its long snout buried in her muff, the 
bushy tail waving behind.
   She could order him to eat her now, and she'd get a sample of 
his technique where it counted most -- but it wouldn't really 
test his willingness to submit the way she wanted. Most slaves 
were happy to perform oral sex.
   Instead, she ordered: "Stand up." He obeyed, revealing he was 
taller than her, which wasn't unusual -- like most clouded 
leopards, she was fairly short, only five feet four inches Terran 
Style.
   "Turn around, back to me, bend over and grab your ankles."
   He obeyed without a murmur. Good. The naked buttocks were 
utterly exposed to her, two delicious pink globes for her 
pleasure. The tail was lifted, wavering, for balance.
   She squatted to get the best possible view, and saw to her 
pleasure that they were plump enough to completely conceal the 
depths of the division between them, and the anus. Her paws went 
to each cheek, feeling the skin, squeezing to get an idea of the 
consistency of the flesh underneath, and it was perfect: soft, 
smooth, tender skin, a layer of rubbery fat, with good, taut 
muscles underneath.
   Spanking this one would be a real pleasure.
   "Now," she ordained, "take your paws off your ankles and 
spread your cheeks, as wide as they'll go."
   She heard his little gasp of surprise and shame. This was a 
difficult order for many males. But he obeyed, his paws going to 
either side, carefully spreading those rounded cheeks wide. He 
lifted his tail higher despite the precariousness of his balance, 
and spread his legs farther apart, shuffling his feet along the 
floor.
   Fodessa always relished this first moment with every male 
slave, forcing him to exhibit his most secret, vulnerable place 
to her. And this one was well worth the look: a tender vertical 
valley, with a neat, clean, puckered orifice at its north end, 
which she inspected closely. Not quite virgin, as she already 
knew from his dossier, but still pleasingly tight.
   She poked at it with one stubby finger, keeping her claw 
sheathed, feeling it carefully. Yes, he was still fairly tight. 
The hot little ring shuddered and clenched involuntarily at the 
sensation of her touch.
   She rose and cleaned her finger on a nearby antiseptic wipe. 
He remained bent over until she came back.
   "Get up," she ordered, "and turn around again."  He did so, 
his green eyes looking a little glazed, his erection full and 
hard.
   "Now, some rules here, just in case your training didn't cover 
them. First, you *do not* play with yourself without permission. 
You do not *come* without permission -- which I may not give for 
the whole trip. And Caitlin has the authority to punish you as 
well as I." Only when she let him, but that wasn't the slave's 
concern. "You'll be fitted for a chastity belt soon, but until 
then, you'll have to rely on your own obedience. Got that?"
   "Yes, Mistress," he said, nodding slightly.
   "Good. I'll show you to your quarters now."
   He followed her obediently down the corridor to a small room.
   It was little more than a cubicle, with no furniture except 
for a clean dog-pillow on the plush-carpeted floor, big enough to 
accommodate him. A furry-style toilet lay up against one wall. 
The color scheme was green -- not institutional green, but a 
rich, pleasant green, relieving the prison air of the room.
   One wall was mostly taken up by a big round porthole to space, 
through which the stars and black void could be seen. It was in 
fact a holopicture transmitted by one of the Satisfaction's bow 
cams, but it looked real enough. Fodessa enjoyed leaving the 
victim feeling open to the world, as if any passerby outside 
could look in and see him being kept naked like a mere non-
sentient animal.
   "You'll stay here until one of us calls you," she said. 
Without another word, she stepped out and put her paw against the 
doorlock, closing it -- feeling a pang of regret as her splendid 
prisoner was concealed from view.
   She turned and padded back down the hall toward the bridge. 
She might as well check on the ship while she waited for the 
other prisoner to be readied.



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