This story was started as a response to what happened to the Skunkette from Chapter 10 of the Kerr story. Will she get her freedom, will more bad things happen?(probably) or what?
Waking slowly, the skunkette is at first only dimly aware of where she is and that someone is gently playing with her left nipple. "Get lost, Mahor," she mumbles, then swats at the intruder.
"I'm sorry."
The unknown voice shocks her fully awake and the events of the last evening comes rushing back to her. That wasn't my annoying little brother, it was the fox who bought me, and I swatted him! Shelana, NOW you're in trouble!
"I'm sorry," the fox again states from behind her, "but the blanket had slipped down and exposed your breasts, and I couldn't help but touch them. They're so nice."
My breasts aren't that nice... Wait! Did he apologise for touching me? Rolling over on her side and opening her eyes she stares directly into his face. He's young, she thinks, is he even of age?
Pulling his gaze away from her breasts, the fox states, "The innkeeper have drawn you a hot bath, and I'll bring you something to eat, but you must hurry because we leave soon."
A bath? "Where?" she mumbles, sitting up and looking around.
"Down the hall," he replies. "Do you need help walking?
"I can manage," she mutters. And I can certainly do without his groping! Getting up she notices her tail still tied to her leg. Stumbling a bit she makes her way to the door and slowly pulls it open. Seeing no one in the corridor she makes her way to a door standing ajar at the other end. On the other side she finds a wooden tub with a high back, almost full of warm water. With a soft sigh she slowly lowers herself into the water, stopping momentarily as the water reaches her intimate regions, then continuing as the warmth seeps through and softens bruised skin and muscles.
"Enjoying the bath?"
When she turns her head towards the voice she finds the fox standing there with a bundle of fabric in his paws and a large bowl on top of it. "Yes..." she replies slowly, "master." Better humor him for now; or until I find a way to escape, at least.
"Master?" the fox asks, then adds, "yes, I guess I am." Placing the bowl on a chair next to the tub and the bundle on another, he adds, "The innkeeper thought a broth would be best for you and his mate sold me some used clothes. Since she's a coyote they're a bit too large, but not overly so."
As she picks up the spoon and begins to eat she can't help noticing his stare. "What are you looking at?" she hisses.
Hurriedly looking away from her breasts he exclaims, "Nothing!" Then, remembering that she's his slave, he moves his eyes back and adds, "Or anything I want." Feeling his ears heat up and his pants getting tighter, he soon moves his eyes to her legs instead. "We're losing valuable time," he mutters, grabbing the coarse soap laying next to the tub and dipping it in the water, then reaching for her left leg. "I'll clean your feet and tail while you eat."
What's his hurry? Or is it just an excuse to grope me? Content to let him wash her, at least for the moment, she focuses on her food, and soon empties the bowl.
"Finished?" the fox asks.
"Yes, master," she responds. Unless you have more, that is. I haven't had a decent meal for more than an eight-day.
"I'll get you more to eat later," the fox states, as if he read her mind, "but for now we must hurry." Then he tosses her a towel and stands there watching as she slowly stand up, turns her back towards him, steps out of the tub and begins towelling off. "Hurry up!" he exclaims when she fumbles with her legs.
"You try drying your legs with a sopping wet tail tied to it!" she hisses back.
"Don't speak to me like that!" he growls, "I'm your master!"
You're just a little twerp! If I could get away with it I'd rip your throat out! Composing herself, she mumbles out, "I'm sorry, master. Please don't punish me."
"I'll think about it," he grumbles, not entirely convinced of her sincerety. "If I untie your tail, what's to stop you from spraying me?"
"Nothing, master," she mumbles, "nothing but the fear of your punishment."
"At least you don't lie," he states. Then he pulls a short knife from a sheath in his belt, goes down on his knees and starts cutting through the tough leather strips holding her tail down.
That feels good! she thinks as her tail begins to swing up, then almost by itself, slaps the fox across his muzzle as it passes. And THAT felt even better! Her tail free and out of the way she makes quick work of drying off her fur, then hurries to pull on the pants and tunic provided.
"Good," the fox states, "you're finished. Come, we must hurry." Then he turns and hurries out of the room.
By the time she has managed to step around the tub and out the door, he's back from the bedroom, with a thick cape on his shoulders and a large pack in his paws. Walking as quickly as she can with her sore muscles, she follows him down a set of stairs, along a short hallway and outside to where a heavyset badger is waiting with a large, horsedrawn wagon.
"You took your time," the badger grunts. "Hurry up and climb aboard; you're waisting valuable daylight!"
The fox tosses his pack in a hollow amongst the bales, crates and drums, then helps her climb aboard. "You can sit on the pack," he offers, "it's probably the softest place." Then he climbs up after her and makes himself comfortable on a bale of hides. "We're ready," he states.
"No, you're not!" the badger barks. Tossing a black cloth to the skunkette he continues, "Put this on. This is a hidden village, and no slaves are allowed to see the entrance or the area around it. And don't even think of removing it until tonight, or I'll kill you myself."
Better do as he says," the fox states when she only stares at the cloth. "I've never known a badger to joke."
"And if I don't?" she hisses at him, "are you going to try to put it on me?"
"No," he responds, sighing, "I'll just sell you to the first male who shows me some gold."
Glancing around, she notices a large wolf male nearby. Not that! "All right," she mutters, unfolding the cloth to reveal it to be a hood which she pulls over her head. "Not that there's anything interesting to see here!"
"You've got a spirited one, there!" the badger exclaims. Then he barks an order to the horses, snaps his whip and unlocks the wheel brakes. Then the wagon begins to move, slowly at first, then faster, until it reaches a fast walking pace.
Midday.
"Hey, kid! Get down and lend a paw!"
The badger's yelling jolts Shelana awake. "What's happening? she mumbles, reaching for the hood over her head with her right paw.
"Don't touch that!" the badger shouts. "It looks like rain, and we're going to put up a canvas top on the wagon. You stay down and out of the way."
The next few minutes are filled with the sounds of the two males working; clacks as wood bars are slotted into place, fluttering fabrics, the sound of a rope being pulled through metal loops on the sides of the wagon. Then the wagon creaks as the badger climbs back up. A moment later the fox follows, sitting down next to her.
"Everyone sitting down?" the badger asks, then cracks his whip to get the horses moving again.
"Hungry?" the fox whispers.
"Not really," she replies, but her lie is is soon exposed by her rumbling belly. Quiet! she growls at her belly, I don't want his pity.
"Here," he whispers, "the opening in the hood should be enough to slip your paw up through it." Then he grabs her left paw and folds her fingers around something.
Feeling it gingerly with her paws, she finds a long, thin, slightly curved object. It can't be? No, it's a sausage. Sighing with relief she manages to push the sausage up through the hood and into her muzzle. "Thank you," she mumbles between the bites.
"I don't know what was worse," the fox states, sniggering, "your snoring, or your belly-rumbles."
"I don't snore!" she exclaims.
"Yes, you do," he retorts, "but not loudly." Then he drops another sausage into her paws. "Now, eat up and be nice."
"Yes, master," she mumbles in a suitably meek voice.
A few minutes later the excpected rain begins to fall; a drop here and there at first, then incresing until it's a torrent.
"Why didn't you just put on the canvas top before we left the valley?" the young fox asks, "it would have been quicker, with all the others nearby to lend a paw."
"Always the inquisitive one eh, young Terruan?" the badger retorts. "You see, on the first stretch of the road the prevailing winds are from our left side, and if it gusts, it could tip the wagon quite easily as lightly loaded as we are now. Luckily we're past the worst stretch now, or we'd have had to lay the canvas flat, and that wouldn't have left much room for you or the skunk."
"Can the wind really get that strong?"
"Sure does," the badger replies.
Evening.
"Up skunk!" the badger shouts, "you have a job to do!"
"W-what?" she mumbles, groggy from sleep.
"Take off the hood and come here," he grumbles, "and don't waste my time!"
The first she sees when she pulls the black hood off her head is the dark gray canvas top, then the fox putzing about with something all the way at the back of the wagon, and finally the badger at the front where a part of the fabric on the left side has been lifted. "Coming, master," she mumbles, then get up and slowly navigates across the cargo to the opening. "What do you want of me?"
"Do you know your way around horses?" he asks, gruffily. When she nods, he tosses a brush towards her which she barely manages to catch, then, gesturing towards the raised flap, he adds, "Get out there and brush them down. And do it properly; good horses are worth more than you!"
"Yes, master," she grumbles. Climbing through the opening she ends up in a narrow lean-to made of another piece of canvas attached to the side of the wagon, with a basket of hay in the middle and the two large horses tied up facing each other.
"Ah, you're still here," the badger states when he enters the lean-to and finds Shelana busy brushing down the brown mare. Adding a few pawfulls of oats to the horses' food, he strokes them a bit before turning his attention back to he skunkette. "I assume there's a reason why you haven't used the opportunity to escape?"
"What opportnity?" she retorts, "it's raining ice-water outside, there's no shelter and probably less food."
"True," he admits. "If you had tried to escape I wouldn't even have bothered to go after you because you'd be more truble than you're worth. That fox kid might have tried, but I would have stopped him. Besides, you know what happens to escaped slaves?"
"No, what?"
"I think they start off with a gang-rape," the badger begins, "and male slaves aren't safe, either, if there's wolves nearby as they're not too particular about such details. Then, there's usually a whipping or beating and depending on whether or not the slave hurt his or her master they may do other nasty stuff like biting off tails and ears or breaking bones."
"Noo?"
"Yes! And as long as you have that collar around your neck you won't be welcome in any free village, either. They'll know that trackers are after you and will fear what they'll do."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"To warn you," the badger explains. "That fox kid is too young and naive to realise what he's gotten himself into. If you want to have any hope of ever being free, I suggest you take good care of him." Poking his paw back into the wagon for a moment, the badger extracts a small oil-lamp which he hangs from a cord near the open flap, then carefully lights it with a small fire-starter. "Can't do a good job if you can't see the horses."
As Shelana finishes the dappled horse, the badger reappears. For a moment or two he studies the horses, then he states, "The horses look good, I guess you've earned your food today. Now, give me the brush and get back in the wagon."
Happy to obey she paws him the brush, then clambers back through the open flap, quickly followed by the badger.
"We can't make a fire because of the rain," the badger states, "so there's only cold food tonight." Then he gestures towards an open basket with sausages, potatoes, carrots and apples.
Any food is better than no food, or the half-rotted leftovers the wolverine fed me, she thinks, quickly grabbing two sausages and a large carrot, then retreating to a corner of the wagon to eat before someone decides otherwise.
"I'll be sleeping up front," the badger states, gesturing to the area just behind the seat, "and you two can sleep in the back. There should be enough room where the canvas rolls were stored."
"I have already laid out the blankets," the fox comments.
I bet you have!
"We'll be moving out at first light," the badger states, "and it'll be a long day, so get as much rest as you can." Then, as an afterhought, he adds, "and no screaming, moaning, shaking the wagon or anything else that might spook the horses."
Mumbling something intellible the fox makes his way aft while the skunkette grabs a pear. "Thank you," she whispers.
"Don't," the badger retorts, "I'm not doing it for you, but for me; I want to get over this pass and home before winter sets in, and I can't do that with skittish or injured horses."
"Thanks anyway," she mumbles, then get up and makes her way aft to find the young fox wrapped up in a blanket, in a cleared area about two by seven feet large. Seeing the narrowness of the place and the fox' smug grin, she looks around to see if there is any other place where she might lie down, but without success. Rot! Determined to awoid being pawed all through the night she lies down in opposite direction to him, with her feet next to his head and wraps the blanket tightly around herself. When he doesn't protest she grins to herself. Not so tough after all, foxy? Listening to the heavy rain she adds, If the rain stops I migh get a chance to run.