A Fox Behind Bars part 4

Story by Wip on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , , , ,

#4 of A Fox Behind Bars

Part 4! Not to everyone's tastes, I'm sure, but at least I'm trying new things

This installment turned out better than I feared it would, but there is always room for improvement. So, overall... what's that line from that Rush song? "Hopeful, yet discontent." Yeah, that's where I am with quest to become a pretty good writer. That seems to be a healthy attitude, no? :-)

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy! And feel free to leave any feedback, or questions, or reflections, whatev's ya want!


4.

Sunday morning. I'm still alive. I can't say I'm ecstatic over that, but I'm also not desperate enough to look for an alternative. Taking stock of my body was depressing. I think something in my shoulder was strained, or maybe torn, but at least nothing seemed broken. My stomach to my knees was a mass of stinging pain, but I'd stopped bleeding. I rolled on my back with a sigh. Looks like I'll pull through. I watched the ceiling for a few minutes waiting for the buzzing that started the day. When it came I smiled at how accurate my internal clock has become.

I managed to get Dimitri's shoes on him without using my left arm. I crawled back to my corner praying he wouldn't use me yet. I just wanted time to repress what I went through yesterday.

"Get ready. Line up for breakfast."

I looked at Dimitri as he pulled his fly up, finished with his morning routine. "I'm not going."

His face switched from indifferent to annoyed. "You're telling me this?"

Shit. I'd forgotten protocol. My ears flattened. "Sorry, sir," I said quickly, getting into a kneeling position. I felt sharp pain. Fuck, I might have tore open something again, but I pushed those thoughts out of my head. "Please, sir, let me stay here. I really don't want to go out there."

I felt his eyes boring into me even as I kept my focus on the floor.

"I'm not bringing you any food. If you don't go, you don't eat."

I nodded. "I understand, sir." Starvation was great compared to what was on the other side of those bars.

Dimitri walked by me. He muttered "dumbassˆ" just loud enough for me to hear. Even after the doors clanged shut, and the crowd of inmates making for the cafeteria were out of earshot, I stayed on my knees, staring at the floor. Slowly I drifted into a waking dream.

***

"Are you religious?" That was the first thing Dimitri had said since coming back from breakfast. It took me by surprise.

"Wh- um, no, sir... why?"

Dimitri stood and shut off his TV. "It's sunday. The State has to give us access to services. Most of the majors are covered. You don't have to go, but be ready for lunch in an hour."

"Can I stay here again? I'm really not hungry."

"No."

"But, pleeease, sir," I whined.

Dimitri stalked over to me, towering over my small form sitting crosslegged, back to the wall.

"Do I need to remind you whose cell this is? What did I tell you when you were first tossed in here?"

I was trembling at that point. Why couldn't I have just shut up. "Y-y-y-you-," I bit down on my tongue. Trying to speak was pointless. Dimitri bent down and took hold of my jaw, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

"I said I was a god in this cell. That makes you nothing. You exist because I'm letting you."

My eyes must have been wide as saucers, but even as they started to tear up I couldn't shut them. Strange, how the prospect of impending death can suddenly make even the most miserable of lives seem like the most precious thing ever. "I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me!"

Dimitri gave me a disgusted look and let go of my chin. "Thank you, sir. I shouldn't have disagreed with you." I hoped to appease him, and when he pulled down his fly I had a sense of relief. This was something I could do, something that wouldn't kill me. I enthusiastically shifted to my knees and hungrily opened my mouth, sliding my hands up the tiger's legs.

A hard slap to the side of my head got me by surprise. I looked up at Dimitri, feeling hurt. What did I do this time?

"Did I tell you to suck me off?"

"No." My heart sank. Was he going to take me from behind? I clenched at the thought of what damage he could do, and couldn't hold back a pleading whimper.

"Stay still."

As if if I could move.

I watched in mixed horror and appreciation as Dimitrti pulled out his massive cock. Before my mind could process what what happening, Dimitri let flow a hot stream of piss. It splashed on my shirt before soaking in. I threw my arms up to block it but Dimitri just adjusted his aim higher. My thoughts ran along the lines of, oh fuck! what is he doing? This is insane.

"Stop!" I shouted, but that was a bad move. With my mouth open, the acrid liquid hit my mouth, instantly triggering my well suppressed gag reflex. I doubled over, retching and feeling the tiger spray into my hair. I stayed there, kneeling in a tight ball, waiting for him to finish my punishment. Realizing I wasn't even putting up a token fight was one of the most disheartening moments of my life.

The dank, ammonia rich odor stung my nostrils, but I kept my mouth shut from the unreasonable fear that Dimitri could violate the laws of physics and somehow piss down my throat even as my nose hovered inches off the ground. The hot pressure stopped and I could feel the wetness spreading as it was sucked into my hair and fur. Dimitri's canvas shoe slid into my line of sight. He lifted my head with his toe until I was looking at him. I whimpered, wondering what else he would put me through.

Dimitri ran a finger along the bottom of his shaft, bring a twitch as he reached his slit. "Open," he demanded.

My jaw sprung open. Whatever he would do to me would be worse if I resisted. He stuck his wet finger between my lips. "Suck."

I did. In more ways than one.

The taste was sickening, but it was what I was doing that turned my stomach the most. I held back the rising tide of bile until he yanked his finger from my mouth. He bent down, examining my face, which was an open book of shame, disgust and fear.

"Didn't like that, did you?" his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"No, sir."

"The next time you're a bad fox, I stick my dick in your mouth and make you drink it all. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir," I trembled.

He straightened. "Good boy. Now, I'm going to church, be ready for lunch when I get back." I watched him leave the cell and turn back towards me, I cringed. "You can rinse your mouth out. Leave the rest in. This is shower-day, after all."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

I was still shaking long after the cell doors were closed and the religious furs we gone to their various chapels. Even as I cupped my hand under the running faucet my hands trembled, spilling more water than I could scoop into my mouth. His words came back to me then, "I'm going to church." The absurd hypocrisy of Dimitri hit me like a sledgehammer. I laughed, spitting my mouthful of water. I kept on laughing until I started to cry. Sob's mingled with hysterical cackling. Even the hell I was living through hadn't killed my sense of righteous indignation yet. I was still me, but it all hurt so much, and I was scared to death at the knowledge that I couldn't hold out forever.

Why was this happening to me?

***

I poked at noodles the prison dared to call spaghetti. My mind wasn't on my food. I was thankful that Dimitri didn't make me sit with the canines, and I was doubly appreciative of the near mystical bubble of space Dimitri's dangerous aura allowed us. Though part of me wondered if I couldn't have kept my personal space intact on my own, seeing as I currently reeked of tiger urine.

Funny how I was now looking forward to the showers. It still scarred the hell out of me to think what the experience could entail, but fuck it, getting pissed on put things in perspective for me.

"Hey."

I looked up at Dimitri. His gruff voice pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Have you given any thought to my offer?" he asked, while poking at his noodles with as much enthusiasm as I was.

I blinked. I knew he had big balls, from first hand experience, but to think now was the time to ask me if I wanted to live my life in prison as his pet? After what he'd done to me not more than a couple hours earlier!

I took a deep breath and swallowed my anger. "I'm still thinking." I pushed my noodles around and looked up to see him still looking at me. "You, uh, you'll still give me 'til thursday to make up my mind, right?"

He let the question hang for a moment longer than I would have liked. "Yeah," he said, and returned to the alleged spaghetti.

I was still thinking I could get away from Dimitri, and find some living arrangement that would at least let me do my time with my sanity intact, however long that would be, but after what the members of the Pack in cellblock H did to me, I wasn't as certain as I had once been.

I had to talk to the coyote. I wish I knew his name. He would know what to do. He had to, he was my only hope.

***

The wind bit into me like an angry badger. My hair was still a little damp, and the oversized prison issued jacket did little to keep in what meager heat I had. It was colder than yesterday and the Yard was more like a tundra than a field. I turned my back to the wind in time to see Dimitri walking away. An irrational panic hit me. What if I ran into Piter? What if the coyote wasn't outside today? What if Vince... What if?

"Wait!" I shouted. Fuck my need for the coyote's help, fuck my urgent need to get out of cellblock H. "Dimitri- sir!" I ran after him.

"What?" he asked without slowing his pace.

"Let me come with you. Please," I managed to refrain from losing all dignity by not tugging on his sleeve.

"No. Go play with the other dogs," he said without breaking his stride.

I knew giving into my fear was ridiculous, and putting this off for another day wouldn't mean anything in the long run, but I just couldn't get past feeling the truth of that old saying, better the devil you know than the one you don't. "Please. I'll just stand off to the side. You won't even know I'm there."

"You're right. 'Cause you won't be."

"But-"

Dimitri came to a sudden stop, spinning to face me. "Are you arguing with?" he asked with a hint of disbelief.

My gaze dropped to his crotch. I remember his threat from earlier. "No. Sorry." I gave a sort of half bow and back away, not wanting to do anything that might provoke him.

I pulled my coat tight, taking wide steps in the opposite direction. I guess my course was set, whether I liked it or not. I ran a hand through my hair, ruffling it in hopes the cold wind would blow away as much of the tiger's sent as it could. If I stay downwind, I might even manage to avoid the embarrassment of explaining what had happened.

As the cluster of picnic tables got closer I started scanning the faces. I don't know how, but Vince spotted me first. You'd think his missing ear would make him stand out in a crowd. He locked eyes with me as I walk towards him. He had a smug little smirk, like he'd known I'd be back. I really wished I'd had other options.

The stiff grass crunch beneath the soles of my thin shoes. Damn, it was cold. The heat drained from me at both ends now. What would happen during the heart of winter? Were the inmates forced into the blizzard like dissidents locked in a gulag, I wondered idly.

I watched Vince start to break from the crowd. Thank god, the coyote was there too. Unfortunately the bigger wolf, Greg, was also with them. I stopped a few yards short and let them walk to me. I wish I could say that was me trying my hand at playing head games, but really, I just didn't want an audience of eavesdroppers.

"You look like shit," Vince greeted me.

I shrugged. "I kinda wanted to talk to," I nodded toward to coyote. My ears flattened as the wolf looked at me, searching for some hidden agenda I didn't have.

The coyote looked at Vince. Only after Vince seemed satisfied did he give a small sign of acquiescence to the coyote. "But stay around here, where I can keep an eye on him," Vince said.

I hoped he would take me by the hand again. I wanted physical contact with someone who wouldn't hurt me. That realization hit me by surprise, and I pushed down a sudden burning sensation deep in my chest. My eyes stung, but I blamed the cold in the air.

He lead me just out of earshot. I heard him take a sniff, even though he tried not to make it obvious. I looked away in shame.

"It's ok," he said in his soft, liquid velvet voice. He move closer and put his hand on my elbow. "Don't cry, Elliot. Please. At least not in front of them."

I wiped at my eyes with my other hand. Fuck. I was crying. "God!" I moaned and rubbed my eyes with my sleeve. The coyote let me compose myself. It took a few minutes, but I pressed hard on my eyes, willing myself to ignore the cascade of emotion threatening to burst its dam.

I heard the coyote's voice in my ear. "It's ok to let it out, but just wait until you're alone. A lot of these assholes will feed on your pain."

I nodded and blew my nose in my jacket's sleeve. I wondered how often these jackets got washed... fuck it, not my problem. "Thanks..." I looked at him, "I don't know your name." I hoped he wouldn't think I was self absorbed. "I'm really sorry."

He chuckled. "I guess I never did introduce myself. My name's Ronald Carpenter, but, um," he ran his hand through his hair. He looked a little embarrassed. "Everyone calls me Hash." He blushed, almost imperceptibly.

"Oh," I said. Immediately I assumed he was in here on a drug charge. He must have saw the look I get when my imagination kicks into overdrive, because he hastily corrected what must have been a common conclusion.

"I wasn't a dealer. It's 'Hash' as in hash-tag, the same as the number symbol, and in here, apparently, being able to do simple math makes you some kind of a fucking genius, so, yeah... Kind of a stupid way to pick up a dorky nickname, but it's better than the alternatives I was offered." He made a lewd fucking-gesture with his hands and shrugged.

I couldn't help but laugh.

He smiled. "Heh. Feel a little better?"

My head was a little clearer and I nodded. "Thanks, Hash." I managed to tell him what happened to me last night. Not directly, of course, but he understood what I was saying. I couldn't look him in the eye, but I even told him what Dimitri did when I didn't want to do what he told me to.

He swore in his calm way. "Don't tell Vince."

I looked at him, confused.

"He'll take that as a personal slight, and do something, I don't know what, he's unpredictable. But, cause and effect don't factor into many of his plans. No matter what he does, it'll just get you in trouble. If he beats up one of Piter's guys, they'll just give you worse for being one of his. If he tells Dimitri to lay off you, and doesn't get killed in the process, how do you think Dimitri would react to you going behind his back?"

I shuddered at the implications. I sighed in frustration. "I can't tell the guards. My cellmate could kill me at any moment. A husky almost ripped me open... And my best chance is to let that idiot, whore me out?" I glance over my shoulder at Vince.

"Shh! Not so loud," Hash calmed me. "I know, it looks hopeless." It was hopeless! "If I made it, you can make it. Give it time. You'll find a way to live through this. It won't be pleasant, but I promise. You. Will. Survive."

I believed him. I had no reason to, but he'd been honest to me so far. I had nothing else.

***

I stood in the queue, behind Dimitri, waiting for my turn at an open shower stall. Dimitri didn't ask me what I did out on the Yard. He didn't ask me anything, really. I just followed him mutely, because my own questions wouldn't have been answered, he wouldn't allay my fears, and he wasn't one for smalltalk. There was nothing to say.

I felt like an animal in a mechanized slaughterhouse. Things were run surprisingly efficient (if slowly), but we were all just pieces of meat to the system. The inmates stand in a slow moving line until it's their turn. Then they throw their clothes in a bin, take a towel, shower, and dry off. On the way out we're supposed to be given a fresh uniform for the week. At least, that's what I could gather from peeking around Dimitri at what lay ahead.

A guard would occasionally wake past, telling the inmates to shut up, but other than that, I had nothing to stimulate my mind, and my thoughts replayed the days events. Talking to Hash didn't solve my problems, but it made me feel good. Even after I asked him to decide what I should do for me, he said he didn't want to take away one of the few choices I still had. He's such a cool coyote... I might have developed a platonic bro-crush.

And his nickname,Hash, I loved the way it rolls off my tongue-

My body launched forward. "Line's moving, moron!"

I snapped my head toward the source of the blow. The dark uniform of a CO. I dropped any thoughts of retaliation. "Sorry, sir," I said meekly and rushed to close the gap between me and Dimitri.

The line moved faster than I thought. Must have mentally checked out...

"Next four," called out another guard.

I shadowed Dimitri into the small alcove before the shower room, expecting at any moment to be set upon by a ravenous pack semi-feral rapists. Imagine my delight when the set up more resembled the showers at a gym, than the basement-abattoir from The Texica Chainsaw Massacre. I kept my eyes on the tiger, practically mimicking his every move. Until he pull off his shirt.

I was struck by how beautiful the vivid orange fur gave his stripes an almost three dimensional appearance. Fuck, I didn't want to drift into a stupor again. I shook my head and stripped. I must have been getting used to that, I wasn't preoccupied with who was looking at me, I just kept my eyes to myself (except the occasional glance to Dimitri) and hurried to get through my latest ordeal.

The smell of cheap soap, and generous amounts of disinfectant filtered in through the open doorway to the foggy, tiled shower room. The patter of water, and the occasional obscene comment, or laugh, provided the soundtrack that would have been better served by a waterproof radio. Something any institution not designed solely to torture us, would have provided. I sighed and left my shoes and towel on the bench next to Dimitri's towel. I noticed he, and all the other furs I could see, wore flip-flops. I made a quick mental note to find out how they got them.

I followed Dimitri into the mist. I immediately questioned how sanitary this all was. The floor was slick with what I could only hope was a carpet of assorted fungi and molds. Each step I took was a battle of wills not to freeze in disgust at the germs I could imagine chewing through the bottoms of my feet. If the showerheads were half as dirty as the floor and walls, I wonder if it might not be more hygienic to leave my fur coated in the piss and cum I was planning to wash off. I don't know, but it was probably less of risk as far as contracting a flesh eating virus or something.

Dimitri walked into a stall, though stall might be a generous term. It was a slot, partitioned by waist high walls. Privacy was enforced by prison etiquette only. That means eyeing a fur's like Dimitri's package would get you killed, but with furs that couldn't kick your ass, like myself, it was open season. Someone whistled whiled another called out, in explicit details, what they wanted to do to me. I don't know who, I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the semi-organic floor.

I stopped when the running water hit me, signaling I'd arrived in my empty stall. I lifted my head, scared of making any eye contact. The water was warm, not as hot as I like it, but seeing as there were no means to adjust the temperature, I should have felt grateful it wasn't fridged.

A claw dug into my arm. I yelped, looking for it's owner. A grinning raptor, his feathers plastered over his head like a drowned exotic bird. Water ran down his muzzle, dripping from fang-like teeth. I pulled away, nearly slipping.

"Let me wash you," he hissed, running an unsettlingly long tongue over those knives he called teeth.

"Fox!" I jumped at the new voice from right behind me. It was Dimitri. My eyes widened despite the sting from the water. Did I do something wrong?

My heart was in my throat as he jerked his head for me to move to his stall. I tried to preemptively apologize, which is hard when you don't know what you did, but stopped me with a firm "shut up," and went back to lathering his glorious fur as I stood right behind him. He tired of my awkward milling and grabbed me by the shoulder, pulling me past him into the shower's spray, and shoved a bar of soap into my chest.

I could have stood there all day, so dumbstruck I was. Dimitri was saving me from the harassment, and whatever would have come next. I rushed to wash as much of my fur as I could, who could tell when this momentary act of kindness might flip? By the time I got to feeling cleaner than any time since I got here, my heart was no longer pounding. It was weird, sharing a shower with a fur like Dimitri, especially Dimitri, but this was so much better than what that raptor had in mind. I looked over to where I'd been. A red panda was shampooing his long hair, and next to him, where the raptor had been, was a bull, waxing his dulled horns. I couldn't help but smile while I rinsed the last of the soap from my tail.

I turned to see Dimitri was finished, just standing there, watching me. It didn't take a psychic to see what was on his mind. I did kind of owe him... With furtive glances to check that we had what would pass for privacy, I slowly reached for his cock. I looked up at him, getting a reminder of just how much bigger than me he was. The warm water was hitting my back in a soothing rhythm. I storked him to full attention before sinking to my knees. I winced at the thought of how much bacteria would be hitching a ride on my knees, but that was something to be dealt with later.

Dimitri stood like a rock as I sheathed him with my mouth. His clean taste mixed with the water running down from where it hit his rock hard abs, carrying the faintest hint of soap from his fur. I moaned deep enough to add some vibration to my sucking. His hand possessively cupped the back of my head.

I probably read too much into it, but he could have just took a handful of my hair and face fucked me, but this time he let me do most of the pace setting. Maybe it was because I was doing this to thank him, or maybe he thought I was being a "good boy" by not bitching about everything I didn't want to do? Before I could over analyse the subtleties of this nearly-public blow job, I could feel his pulse through his cock start to quicken, and he started to throb. The hand on the back of my head became a little more forceful, pushing me to take him deeper. I started to choke but didn't panic. I let Dimitri shoot his wad, swallowing and greedily sucking for more. When he pulled out, I gasped in a few breaths, thinking how much better his salty cum tasted than his piss.

I took advantage of the running shower, and rinsed Dimitri's cum down with warm water. What could have verged on a touching moment between me and the lunatic was rudely interrupted by a guard shouting that any of us inmates still in the showers better be out in the next thirty seconds, or get written up for noncompliance.

Fascists.