Addiction

by Bilou

She sighs as she sits. The night was exhausting. No rest or breaks for her, her “protector” has always been strict with his rules. When there are customers, there’s no time for fooling around. He’s always been like that, every day of the year, every hour of the day. When he calls for a job, “no” is never an option.

She looks around her. Nothing changed much in the past 6 years. The same cheap motel, and the same flimsy room that she sees day after day. She scrubs her arm as she look at the phone. He doesn’t like her to use the phone, outside the business. He’s afraid she may call someone, or the police. Slowly, but surely, he’s ensured her isolation. No friends, no family, nobody around her. He’s managed somehow to keep her out of the police files: another unknown “sex worker” as the community services likes to call her work, nowadays. But she couldn’t care less, how nice they like to name her profession. In her mind, she’s just a prostitute, a hooker, a whore.

She gets up and walks to the small window. He’s unusually late. Sometimes, he allows himself to take it slow, when her night is quiet. But never more than 20 minutes. She starts to feel nervous. Almost an hour late and she have a big amount in her paws. It was one of her busiest nights, this year. In fact, the whole month was busy, now that she thought about it. Her species has become popular, lately. Usually foxes, canines, and skunks, have most of the market in this business. Felines are also in demand. Even so, for a chipmunk, it’s easy to make some money. Even in total pain, the work must be done. The clients ignore how sore you feel, they don’t care. Boy was she sore last night! She had it tough to pretend, too, as she wished for that overweight bear get done and leave. No complaints, no screams; except if requested. No excuses, either, to not be ready and to look happy, and excited. Playing the comedy she had been taught since so long. He wouldn’t accept any kind of absence. Sometimes, he throws her a pain killer, but only if it’s obvious her pain is terrible. The only sign of kindness he ever shows. Otherwise, he acts as a dominant. He’s the master and she’s the slave.

She feels anxious and watches the phone. Another hour has passed and no news. Something’s wrong. No phone calls, no notes; such a thing has only happened once before, when he thought the police were on his tracks. He was so angry that day. He hit her viciously to make her talk. But she was innocent as he soon realise. To cover his abuse, he sent her his worst clients. These she plead him to not call back. She understood it as a warning, and a coverup. She got the message perfectly and made sure to never make him angry again. It was so long ago. Now, she knew where to stand, what to avoid, and how to act to give him the only thing he wants: money. Money that she never knows the use or sees any part of. He takes care of everything that, according to her profession, she may need. If she dare ask, all she gets is an evil glance. Putting her, as he sees it, in her rightful place. She rested her muzzle against the grimy window. Whatever’s made him so late won’t improve his mood. She’s shivering because she knows whats in store for her. Silently, she prays to have him arrive as soon as possible.

She goes back to the bed and lets herself fall on the cheap mattress. She closes her eyes for a moment. What could he be doing? Not a clue. She starts shaking as she imagines the most horrible scenarios. She feels so cold. Strangely, this unexpected time for herself gives her the opportunity to recall the very first time she saw him...

###

It was autumn. The leaves were slowly changing. The trees were full of bright and warm colors, giving fall its own magic. Some of the leaves had already started to fall, scattering themselves around the sidewalks. One of her games was to try and not step on one. She had just turned 13. She was feeling the differences in her body now, but she hoped that it was only her imagination. She wished so much to stay a child forever; to dream, to play, to enjoy the simple pleasures of childhood; to be happy. She never found the prospect of adulthood very appealing. Her parents were never really an ideal example of happiness.

She reached the corner and the school appeared. She paused for a moment. School had never really been her favorite thing, but, she believed, that education was important, as her mom kept telling her. She sighed loudly and resumed her walk. It was then that she noticed him. He was standing on the opposite side of the street. Nearby, a shiny red sports car was parked. She never saw a male so beautiful. She felt her heart beat strongly as she stared at the doberman, standing proudly at the curb. He was wearing sunglasses and his blonde hair was cut short. She felt anxious that he may see her staring, and hid behind a fence. But he didn’t seem to care about what was around him. The car door opened then, and Trixie, one of the senior students at her high school gets out. Trixie, a very pretty young wolf, arranged her hair, then said something to him. The doberman removed his dark sunglasses, and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of his gorgeous blue eyes. He looked unhappy as he replied to Trixie, but eventually gave her something, she observed. Trixie is extremely happy, and nervously takes what he paws her. After a nice and gentle hit on her rear, he sent her off to school. But just before she turned to leave, he pointed to his feet and said something sternly. Trixie lowered her head and nodded, then turned and rushed off to school.

She felt nervous, and yet somehow happy, at the same time. For some reason, she feels sure, that he’ll be there at the end of the school day. So, bouncing with joy, she went off to school herself. Her sudden movement caught his eye, and he watched her go. A young chipmunk femme isn’t normally something of much value, but the way she bounced and sang to herself, made him raise an eyebrow. He though for awhile as she was joined by her friends. She pointed at him as he faked lighting up a smoke. She’s too young for now, knows, but keeping an eye on her as she grows may not be such a bad idea. He smiles to himself, then get in his car and leaves.

For two months, he appeared every morning, and every afternoon. She was now constantly worried to be late, or to miss him. But so far, he’s always been there. He’s never seen her, she thinks, as she takes great care to hide. She giggled as she thought of what her mom would say, if she ever discovered why she leaves for school so early now. She dances as she walks to “their” meeting. Of course, he’s a male. She have to be cautious as her mom taught her. Why? She’s not sure. But her mom always told her to never forget: males are males and that she shouldn’t stay alone with one she doesn’t know. In her heart, she believed that he was different. He’s beautiful, strong, and kind. A real gentlefur! After all, doesn’t he drive Trixie to school every morning? And take her home, after? Oh, Trixie doesn’t seem to appreciate it all the time. Sometimes she’s moody and aggressive. Then, the next morning, she’s quiet and keeps her head low. How can he tolerate that, she always wondered. Of course, Trixie is the prettiest girl in school and she’s always wearing the latest fashions. But her style tends to be vulgar. Showing off her body and revealing her generous breast. Everyday, Trixie wears make-up, some days more than others. Last week, her eyeliner looked like a wide black line under her eyes. Frankly, if she dare, she’d have told him to give up on a female like that. But she can’t. She doesn’t have the nerve. All she can do is admire him, his body, as he stands straight, always perfectly dressed. Lately, he seems to have let his hair grow a little, and a small mustache and beard appear, circling his mouth. She remembered one time, he was turning his head around and he stopped, gazing in her direction, and she’d swear he was looking right at her! She crouched down further, but how her heart was pounding! Oh, someday... someday she’ll dare to talk to him.

In school she would often daydream about him, sketching wedding dresses and hearts in her notebooks. Her name is written with “Doberman” as she called him. She’d give anything to know his name. She’d think often of him, dream of him, and almost see him in her soup. She liked to tease her friends about “her” new friend, who had an interest in her. Of course, there was really nothing. But she get some attention and her friends were envious. Isn’t life wonderful, when you get to make someone jealous? She got out of her lovely thoughts, when she arrived at the corner. She stopped, frozen. No sports car, no doberman, only Trixie walking quickly to school, looking unhappy and almost angry. She thinks, her heart will stop as she looks around. Maybe he’s late? But even after the school bell, nothing in sight. After a minute, she felt so bad as she reached the school. Slowly, she looked one more time to make sure. But he wasn’t there. Unbeknownst to her at the time, he only appeared after she went through the doors. He laughed for a moment as he thought. His phone rang, and he answered it, his eyes steady on the building where his prey had disappeared.

Then, she didn’t see him for almost three years. Trixie finished school a year later and graduated with honors. In those last few weeks, Trixie often gave her some very unpleasant glances, and would whispered mean things about her in the hallway. She never had the chance get to know her better, and really never desired to, but she always felt some “complicity” between them none the less. Even if she only ever spied on Doberman and Trixie. She concentrated on school and study. But every morning, she secretly hoped that he’d be there. And every day the same disappointment as she passed the corner. The summers seemed longer to her, because there’s no school and no reason to go there. She got herself a boyfriend, a gentle mouse, who liked to show off a bit. But in her heart, Doberman made his print. She keep his souvenir there and no longer talked about him to her friends . Lately, her boyfriend had started to press her to make love with him. But something stopped her. Unconsciously, she still pines for Doberman and hopes that he has the same feelings for her that she’s kept hidden for so long. Eventually, she starts to consider the possibility of sleeping with the mouse. After seven months, it’d be normal, and she knows how much his friends laugh at him. She sighs. She feels nervous, when she thinks about giving up her virginity to someone she likes, but doesn’t love. She tries to imagine it and only feels grossed out. She wonders if she could break up for a while. This way, she could avoid it. But she feels secure in this relationship. No effort to do, just act nice and he’s content. Another boyfriend could ask for more. Being single isn’t an option for her. Things will get only bad from it. When she’d feel down she’d think of her Doberman. The impact he made in her heart and head is greater than he’ll ever know.

That morning, she turned the corner and as usual, she gave a quick look. She stopped, stunned, for there he was, sitting on the hood of his car, smoking a cigarette. When she appeared, he looked up, a smile on his face. He stood, one of his paws in his pocket, as if he’s been waiting there for her all these years. She doesn’t know exactly how she should react. But finally, she smile shyly. She felt hypnotized by his glance as he crossed the street towards her. She doesn’t hear the bell of her school. She was now in another reality: His reality.

###

She opens her eyes as she remembers that time. Yes, it was a good time. She was naive, so innocent. She would have followed him anywhere without question. She gets up and goes back to the window. It was raining again. Another grey day. Usually, it’s good for business. But today, she didn’t care. Him being that late is not normal. Never has he been late like this, without warning her beforehand. She started shivering again. What if he decided to not come? She felt nervous and anxious. He knows what she needs, why she needs it, and why she tolerates everything, every day, for these last 6 years.

The day is almost over and already she has eight calls for tonight. She decides to work. Going through the day was terrible. She was in need and nothing could calm her down. But she was afraid that if she left, he’ll arrive, and then, she’ll have his wrath upon her, because she wasn’t there. She check the time. The first client should be there in half an hour. She’s distraught and tightens her paws against herself. She has no choice. She’s too weak. He used an old recipe to put her where he wanted. She hated him so much... she shook herself. On the other paw, she need him and she knew it. Putting these thoughts aside, she prepared herself for work, starting with a long, hot shower. Always the same ritual: shampoo, soap, cream rinse. Then, she perfume and lightly put make up on. Doberman warn her to never abuse it, to maintain a little innocent look, playing the cutie. Which is what most of her clients liked. She dried herself with the blower and looked through her “working” clothes. It was hard to choose, but she decided on Doberman’s favorite. As she dressed herself, she thought. ‘In all these years, I still don’t know his real name, or where he lives...’ Her only reality, after she went with him that first time, was cheap motel rooms, or the backseat of his regular car. She learned that first year, that the sports car was only used to attract young femmes. Once they were trapped, a more common sedan was good enough. Sometimes, on her birthday, he arrived in it. But never to give her a ride as she hoped, but only for giving her what she needed, or simply to check in on her. He comes around less often lately, she noticed, but still, once or twice a week, for sure.

The client was on her for a while. His movement were quick and his breath was loud. He keep asking her, if she ever had a good time like that and she keep telling him what he wanted to hear. As he start to have his orgasm, she start to fake, screaming louder than him. He made a strange noise and she wasn’t sure if he was done. But when he let himself fall heavily on her, she had her answer. She’s patient, and wait for him, and when he finally moves, she gets up too. Suddenly shy and nervous, he sat up on the edge of the bed and starts to dress himself. She goes straight to the mirror, to arranger herself. She doesn’t listen to much of what he says. If he could only leave her alone. Finally after, she nod and smile for him, he put her fee on the table and left. Same time next week, he said. If only she could avoid him. She found he smelled like grease and his routine never varied: always the same words, always the same compliments. But he payed well and asked her to act like his psychiatrist, his friend. No amount of money could ever pay for everything a client wishes to gain from a prostitute. Still, they expected it. The less they gave, the more they expected. The most annoying clients were the ones that tried to save her soul from that sinful work, but they were always the first in line to jump on her and do the most disgusting stuff. Why they can’t understand the contradiction, she’ll never understand, but she knows how to handle them. Knows exactly what to say, and how to act, to give them the moral superiority that they desire. It’s the most disgusting part of her profession, but the one that she’s most used to.

The next client should be coming soon. A new one, she’s never had before. She’s always untrusting with new ones. They could be cops. Even if Doberman manages to hide her, she’s concerned that, someday, they’ll come anyway. But soon, all the evidence that she just had sex had been removed. She’s clean and ready, awaiting the signal they had agreed to on the phone. Meanwhile, she inspected her nails. Two will need to be done soon. Maybe she could get Doberman to take her tomorrow. Where is he, though? Still no sign, it’s awful. She’s dead worried. It’s at that moment that the new client arrives and knocks the signal on the door. She dismisses her thoughts with a sigh and answers it. She looks surprised at a young doberman standing in the doorway. His hair is longer and he’s smaller than “her” doberman. His muzzle is short, but he’s pretty in a way. He look different physically than her “protector.” For her, seeing a dog like him, after her stressful day full of worries, is too much. She sits suddenly, heavily, on the bed. The dog smiles gently as he joins her there. He take her paw softly in his, and presses it with kindness.

“Are you okay?” he asks, with a warm and soft voice. “Would you prefer me to go away? I’ll understand.”

“No, no!” she quickly replies. “I was just surprised to see a doberman tonight. All day I’ve been worried about my friend, and then you appear.” She explain as she hugged him.

She smell him lightly. He started to rub her back as she smell him a little more. She lightly shake as she recognized the scent: the needed one. She closed her eyes. Exactly the same scent, but not the effect she desired. She doesn’t feel the urge, the need. She just enjoyed the scent. Could she be free of it? Free of the need, the untamed desire? She looked squarely at the dog. Nothing on his face said that he’s here on Doberman’s orders. In fact, Doberman never send another male to do his job. He always comes alone. What will he do if she keeps smelling him? He’ll get suspicious that she didn’t get her dose today, that’s what. She hugs him and starts kissing him in his neck, deciding to give him what she only reserves for her male. Maybe she’ll feel the same effect? The dog enjoys the feel of her against him, but tenderness isn’t what he came for, and after a moment, he gets annoyed. He takes her paw and makes her understand what he wants. Roughly, he pushes her to the mattress while working his pants loose. She gets the message and she become the professional she was. But still, giving him a little more, than what he payed for.

After he’s gone, she again sits on the bed. She’s free for a couples of hours and she needs that time to consider what happened. After the act, she realised that the scent was only very light. Usually, it’s enough to make her lose control. But this time, nothing - just a more exciting and sensual job. She removed her torn tights and threw them in the waste basket. Sure, it was a good time, but he was aggressive like most of canines. Needed to show his dominance. So sad, he was looking so kind at first. Well, always like that. Looks promising and then, just more deception. Only Doberman is different. She doesn’t know why, but only he has something unique. No need to ask with him.

She turns on the TV, switching to the news. The same bad new all the time, over and over. She’s stunned when she sees Trixie’s face on the screen, soon follow by Doberman, arrested this morning. She was magnetized by the screen as she discover the story. Trixie is holding her new kit, a mixed breed of dog and wolf. A kit of Doberman! More than what she ever dare to wish from him! Trixie is supporting him as he walk, his muzzle and ears lowered. They accuse him of corrupting teenage females, 4 years ago. Since 10 years, he was going to local high schools to charm and recruit them, then convincing them to prostitute for him. She felt as cold as the dead. She looked around her room. A prostitute, like she is. Five young females accused him of doing that. If he’s found guilty of those accusations, he’ll go to jail! Doberman will be a convicted criminal!

Of course, she rationalized, it’s exactly what she’s doing for him all along. But he needed help to pay some debts. She only wanted to help her male! She’d do anything for Doberman... any thing! He taught her in the beginning. He showed her what to do, what to say. He was demanding taskmaster and never accepted anything less than her best. But wasn’t he always was there as she needed? Making her feel important? Making her feel special? Giving her what she needed to continue in her life, everyday? The news fox continued his report but her mind refused to accept that reality. It was too big - too hard to understand. Her Doberman - a criminal! The very thing he’s always been so afraid of, has finally come home to haunt him.

She awoke the next morning, tired and moody. She finished her work as usual. Maybe it was all just a bad dream? Since nothing and nobody forbid her to go out, she decided to go get a newspaper. She wanders slowly outside, unfamiliar with being outside alone. She reaches the convenience store and enters. A pile of the newspapers are at the entrance, on every one, his picture. Doberman the presumed criminal: a new reality she would have to deal with. She discovers his real name, but for her, It’s not important anymore, as he’ll always be Doberman to her. She takes a newspaper and some food and goes back to her room, locking the door behind her. She decides to not answer the phone. She offer herself a day off! But what if Doberman arrives? How could she explain? Then she calmed herself and thought clearly for a moment. If he does arrive, he’ll just have to believe her - she has enough money to prove that she worked. He doesn’t know how many customers came the two last nights. Maybe, she thinks, giddy at the thought, she can offer herself the rest of the week off... a real vacation! Her first one in all of this time with him! She smiled and felt good inside. But the sensation doesn’t last very long as she realized her predicament. How will she manage without him? How will she get survive? She doesn’t know anything about life outside this room. She breathes quickly and gets increasingly nervous. Her paws are shaking heavily now. She needs it and right now. But Doberman is in prison and if he gets out, he’ll go to his home, to Trixie, and his baby. To his family, where he always returns at the end of the day. The unpleasant truth rears its ugly head, as she now remembers a detail she had overlooked all these years: a wedding ring on Trixie’s finger - the symbol of her marriage to Doberman. Seething, he hatred for Trixie rises to a new passion.

###

Trixie knew that the other girls thought that she was like them, except that she had managed to get him to marry her. In reality, Doberman needed her family fortune. But she never completely trusted him, and kept a close eye on her family finances and interests. She knew how he was since high school, when his dad presented him to her; a young executive from a less-than-legit business transaction. Perhaps her father wanted to seal the deal with the offer of his only daughter - perhaps he was hoping for a wedding, and heirs, to run his estate after he was gone. She always did have trouble understanding her fathers motivations. Regardless of his intentions, she tried to look like the kind of female Doberman might be attracted to. Trying, as she always did, to please her father. But when she reached 20, and uncovered his dalliances with those other femmes, she simply turned her back on him. It was just too much for her to take. After all, she was a femme of high breeding and social standing - this kind of petty intrigue was beneath her. Doberman, sensing that he was in danger of losing her and her fortune, quickly changed his tune. He begged her to take him back, which she did, but not before making him promise to give up his lecherous lifestyle - and especially to stop seeing that little chipmunk tramp he seemed so fond of!

Their life together was peaceful after that. She didn’t really know exactly what his business was - she presumed it had something to do with her daddy’s enterprises, and as long as he left in the morning and came back in the evening, she didn’t ask too many questions. But when ugly rumors started to surface, she realized that she couldn’t ignore the mounting evidence, and that, despite his promises to the contrary, he had gone back to his “girls.” This time, though, through her father’s connections with the police department, and several certain “undercover agencies”, she made absolutely certain that she had stopped all of his illicit activities. He’ll be in jail for a few days, as she told him, “to give him time to think.”

Trixie crossed the room to the dresser, and laid her paw on the big glass bottle standing there. The perfume smelled good, as she well knew, but it wasn’t effective on her anymore. Oh, those other femmes, she was sure, didn’t appreciate to be cut off from what they needed, but she really couldn’t care less about them! She grinned as she thought about that filthy little chipmunk. It was so hard to get rid of her! Absently, she caressed the bottle. Maybe she was addicted to the pheromone-spiked perfume he used to charm “his”girls. The stuff is strong, and in conjunction with his natural scent, it was easy for him to get any girl he desired. It took her time to get use to it. Eventually, though, it worked - the perfume has no control over her any more.

Everything is up to Doberman now, she decides. With daddy’s connections, he could go to jail for a long, long time - or he could get a “miraculous” reprieve. He swears that this time he’ll stop, but she knows she can no longer trust him - so she used her most powerful arguments to keep him on the up an up: his son. That, and the detail that daddy can make him, and his fortune, disappear forever. For this sake, he says, he’ll behave. Trixie smiles smugly. Power doth have it’s privilege, she muses. Maybe, she reflected, just to be on the safe side, she should take care of the chipmunk bitch once and for all. Erase her for good. Trixie grins evilly at her idea. Cleaning up his environment for him will be good for them both. To her family, she knows, he’s just a bum - but to her, he’s a prize.

###

The vacation wasn’t such a good idea after all. She feels like she’ll suffocate if she spends another moment on the bed. Not a single, solitary, moment of her “vacation” was enjoyable. She’s a working girl - work is all she knows. She simply doesn’t have a clue how to do anything else. Where is her male to tell her what to do?! Her eyes are dilated and she started talking to herself. She was restless - standing, sitting, she couldn’t keep still. She didn’t eat at all. She wanders from her bed, to the windows, to the TV, and back to the bed, trolling the room in endless circles. She had to pay for her room for a week. She was hoping for a sign from Doberman, but still nothing. Slowly, she realise, that she was just like all the others. Nothing more than a piece of meat to make money. Not worth sparing feelings for, no tenderness to show, just possession. A thing. A contemptible object for men to spill their seed upon. He knew how dependent she was on him, and how to manipulate her to his will. She cried again, perched on the edge of her bed. She chewed nervously on her lips. What to do? She invited that other doberman back again. But it wasn’t the same. She needed her Doberman and he knew that she couldn’t stand more than a week. He knows! How can Trixie leaves him in prison? How pitiless can she be? She loses her composure, and cries again, ashamed of herself. If only she knew how to set herself free. If only she could go out and simply start a new life. Make peace with her family, study to be someone. But she’s unable. She realizes that not only is she his prisoner, but a willing one, too. Even if she hates him most of the time, when he’s with her, nothing else matters. Just him. She continues to cry and babbles to herself nonstop, completely disconnected from reality.

###

Trixie waits for a moment as she watches the ambulance pull away. Doberman is looking down, shyly holding her paws. She knows he’s been broken. Being in jail crushed his ego. For all of his care, he was caught, punished, exposed. Now Trixie made the all rules, his image of dominance has been destroyed. He knows that she made him come here to witness the end of his “business.” To humiliate and ridicule him. She held his son in her arms, to ensure his cooperation. He never had any pity for his victims, and it didn’t surprise him that she had no pity for him. He tried to be to be quiet about it, but the fact is that he lost. His addiction to power, to control of young females, had been defeated. His wife showed him her superior strength and intelligence. All the time he thought he was in control, she knew, and manipulated him. Finally, he accepted it. He don’t have any choice; losers never do.

He looked up at the cheap motel. How had she discovered it? Probably with a detective following him, he mused. For what it matters, he felt bad about this one. He could make this one do as he wished without even trying. Even if he was moody, he was soft with her. He never made her take drugs, but, at the same time, he never realized that she was addicted to something far, far stronger. The Pheromones he was using at the beginning weren’t strong enough to cause any damage, he knew. But he never realized, never even suspected, how overpowering it could really be. Silently, Trixie led him away, back to their car.

“It’s awful” he whispered.

“What awful? You abused that perfume. Your natural scent is stronger than anyone - in conjunction with the perfume it was overwhelming.” replied Trixie.

He harumphed, then grinned.

“You don’t understand. Her imagination made things worse. It wouldn’t have made any difference even if I wore wearing nothing. Or if it were just my normal pheromones. No, she wasn’t like the other girls. She spent the last 9 years concentrating solely on me. Her world orbited around me and she willingly cut all ties with everyone else. She was trying to create a place for only the two of us.” He explained.

“Yes, but still. Nobody goes crazy because their “protector” is arrested, or stopped coming. Now she’s in a better place. They don’t know if she’ll ever get out of there. Crying, and calling your name all the time. You see? She didn’t even react when you passed near her and tried to speak to her. Frankly, I think, she was missing some bolts already!” exclaimed Trixie, impatient.

He laughs and nods. Trixie couldn’t understand how complex she was. Everything she’d built, everything she’d created, had collapsed around her. The reality she had in her mind was all a lie. All lies being held tight by her mind. Convincing herself that she could only survive with him in her life. In her universe, there were no others females, only him and her. No love, only needs from her. Desperation. He tried to leave her once, after he grew tired of her body at 16. She had given herself to him so easily. Trixie never had guessed. He wanted some money and had trained some girls for prostitution, yes. But he was keeping the chipmunk for his personal pleasure - until he got tired of her, or until Trixie would agree to make love with him. But when he tired to leave, her crisis, her panic, made him realize just how dependent she was on him. He knew at that moment, that hormones and pheromones had nothing to do with it, as he was just out of the shower. The truth was stunning; big and ugly. Yes, he was living off the fruits of prostitution, but he wasn’t a murderer. So he added her to his roster, taking care to keep her close and under control. To protect himself and her, and to make some money too. Making, at least, some effort to preserve her sanity. He lowered his muzzle again, sighing, and whispered sadly “It’s over now. Everything’s over. Except for her. Her nightmare is just beginning. I hope she’ll get over it soon, I really do.” He pauses. “But I don’t think that hope is on my side.”

“Do you know what it was?” Trixie stated emphatically. “I only wanted to talk to her, and when I arrived with the baby, she fell apart! What an awful crisis she had! What stuff was she was addicted too? Drugs? Medication? Alcohol? What?!” Demanded Trixie.

He squirmed in the seat for a moment, seeming to ignore Trixie’s question, but then, he looked over at her. He put his paw on her arm, taking a slow, deep, breath. Then, he looked back out window. His voice was low, as if he were speaking to himself, alone. “Her drug was a strange and powerful one. A drug controlled by her imagination, and her mind.” He paused, his breathing ragged. “Her addiction was simple: She was addicted to me.”

The end