The Vixen

The living room and the kitchen were far smaller jobs. She mustn't use them much. She probably left early every morning like she had today - she had told me not to expect her until late in the evening. She would phone me via the video screen. It had a little pad of various symbols on it, none of which I could read beyond the one she taught me necessary for accepting a call. Although our spoken languages were almost exactly the same by virtue of our universes being close together, the therian writing system was very different, similar to Cyrillic or Greek with neat alphabetical characters.

After a long period of boredom the phone began to chime. I hit the accept key and the mistress' face appeared on the screen. She looked tired. As she told me what she wanted for dinner, she glanced about the room behind me. At the end she nodded, pleased.

"It seems you make a better cleaner than a soldier, human. Perhaps I was not wrong to choose you."

Her face flashed off the screen. I felt conflicted emotions, then: humiliation at her slight, but also pleasure at the thought she was happy with me. But then I felt sick: thinking like that was a servile emotion. The only reason I was doing my job properly was to give myself time to escape. If she was happy with the results, that was great, but I really didn't care either way.

I got dinner ready. The vulpines ate raw meat and it was important to cut it properly. I tried hard to do a good job. I guess it's the same sort of thing that's expected of a sushi chef when cutting fish for sushi or sashimi. I also got her refreshment ready: liquor and it smelled strong. I sneaked a little and it reminded me strongly of kirsch. Dessert was fruit, berries mostly.

The vixen came home. She looked even more tired In person than she had on the screen. I took her coat and bag from her and she sat right down at the table and fell upon her food. Vulpines don't use cutlery, of course. I said she 'fell upon it', but don't get the wrong idea: she wasn't tearing it to pieces like a feral dog. She might not have been a dainty and graceful eater, but she ate like a human woman who was very, very hungry.

When she was finished she lay back in her chair, undid one of the buttons at the bottom of her blouse and fixed her golden eyes on me.

"You must be hungry."

I nodded. I was.

"You did a good job today. I think this is going to work out." She had food left over and she pushed the plate towards me. "Want to try some?"

I've never been averse to trying new things and I'd eaten raw horse flesh in Japan, but I eyed the food with a strange mixture of emotions. I felt a bit like a pet being offered a tid-bit.

I was hungry, though. I took up some of the meat and ate it.

The meat tasted very similar to horse.

"How brave. You've no idea what kind of meat that is, do you?" said the mistress, amused.

I stopped mid chew and my stomach began to rebel. Of course I didn't know what it was. It could be anything!

But as I went to take it from my mouth, the mistress laughed. "I'm just playing with you. It's from an animal not unlike your cow, although it has stripes rather than spots. Vulpines do not eat sentient beings. No therian does."

I swallowed down the meat and the mistress laughed again at the relief on my face. She downed a hit of the liquor and then held out the little glass to me and wiggled it back and forth.

I refilled her glass for her. She drank quickly and told me about her day as I ate. She held an important managerial position in her company, a large and important one which dealt with transportation and logistics. At the moment they were involved in the war effort so the hours were long and the work exacting. The details of what they did exactly were largely lost on me, but I did learn a lot about office politics. She drank glass after glass of the liquor and toyed with the berries and after a while she told me to bring the bottle as she retired to the couch. She had me switch on the screen and turn it to a landscape channel.

I attended to her, which meant refilling her glass rapidly. After a while she stretched and lay out lengthwise on the couch. She waved at me and said, "Put it back. I think I've had enough."

When I returned her eyes were closed, but as I approached the couch she opened them. A subtle smile slipped onto her lips as she looked me over.

"You've acquitted yourself well, human," she murmured. "I think we made the right decision invading your world. You seem pliable and useful, even if you do look like big, bald apes." She closed her eyes again. "I'm sleepy. Have my bed made ready."

I did as she said. Beds in her world were flush with the floor, not unlike futons. Since vulpines had evolved from an animal like our fox, it made sense they preferred to sleep close to the ground.

When I returned to the living room this time her eyes were still closed and she made no move to acknowledge my presence. I stood and waited, watching for any sign of wakefulness. After a while she murmured and drew her knees up to her belly, her lips parting in a sigh.

I moved closer. She really was a strange and beautiful hybrid of woman and fox. Her tail had curled up between her knees and she held the brush like a teddy bear against her chest as it rose and fell with her gentle breathing. Up close, I noticed her cleavage had the same soft covering of fur as the rest of her body and her nipples were pronounced against the material of her blouse, even through her bra, the straps of which were visible. I noticed too that there was another set of nipples beneath those ones: a second set of breasts, but far smaller. Of course. Foxes have multiple sets of breasts.

The vixen stirred and her ear twitched like a dog's might. I took a step back.

A plan began to form in my brain. She enjoyed a drink - a little too much. But the door to the apartment was locked, from the inside as well, and I had no idea of the combination. That would be the next step: finding that combination.

The mistress looked peaceful sleeping on the couch. I moved closer to see just how deeply she slept. I managed to get right up next to her before my courage gave out and I stopped. Her big fluffy tail was within touching distance. For a moment I thought about touching it and even reached out, but I drew back my hand at the last moment and turned to leave.

I stopped dead when I heard the vixen sigh.

"Disappointing," she said. "I thought you might have actually been brazen enough to try and overpower me."

I turned. Her big, golden eyes were open and considered me with quiet mockery. At my shocked expression her lips split in a wide grin and almost every needle-sharp canine in her mouth became visible. "But then, of course, I would have been obliged to tear out your throat and find a new servant. Perhaps it's for the best you're timid."

A half-apology, half-excuse began to tumble out of me in a jumble, but she laughed and drew her brush closer to her chest. "You're certainly very excitable. I was just joking, perhaps." She let go of her tail and stretched out her arms and legs with sensuous slowness, making a soft yipping sound of delight deep in her throat. Then she sat up and yawned. "Goodnight, human. I will have my breakfast at five o'clock. Don't be late."

I watched her leave. The pronounced wiggle of her hips made her her tail with its white-tipped brush wag back and forth and I stared at it as though hypnotised. She glanced over her shoulder, catching me at it, and with a laugh she closed the door behind her.

-------------

The next few days followed the same pattern, except that she didn't fall asleep on the couch again. She'd have a few drinks after dinner and watch some television before retreating to her room. I continued to be regaled with stories about her work life, and soon it felt as though I was somehow married to her and playing the part of a house-husband. But her mockery lost none of its sting. She never let up on the slights directed towards my species and seemed to take a perverse pleasure in telling me the names of the latest cities that had fallen to their armies. I knew how to operate the TV screen but there was never anything interesting on in the few moments I had free, so I stopped watching it after a while. The news was strangely parochial with only passing mention made of the war, and I learned more about current events from my dinner conversations with the vixen. I tried to watch some of their entertainment programs, but the vulpine sense of humour tended towards the Fescennine and the pratfall and it got boring pretty quickly. How many times can an actor get their tail stuck in a door and still expect to get laughs? The vulpines seemed to have an endless appetite for that sort of thing.

The other therian channels weren't much better.

But soon the mistress brought me back materials published by the central government designed to teach humans how to read and write their complicated language. Now I had something to do during my meagre allotted free-time, and I was actually happy for it.

One evening the mistress came home early. She gave me only the most perfunctory greeting before she rattled off a litany of requirements and disappeared into the shower. Earlier she'd called and told me there was no need to prepare dinner for her tonight as she'd be going out.

She spent longer than usual in her room. Usually, she'd come straight out in her house-wear and throw herself on the food I'd prepared. Tonight, when the door opened, I was left speechless and starring at the transformation she'd undergone.

Instead of the pyjama-like clothing she usually wore when not in her work clothes, she was wearing a dress. Her hourglass figure, always so obvious in her pencil skirt, was made even more pronounced by the shimmering material which contoured lovingly to her form, hugging her curved hips and thighs. She'd done her hair up in a loose yet intricate style which drew attention to her perky ears. I'd noticed, from watching TV, that a vulpine's ears were considered an important part of their looks. They were agile in response to a vulpine's emotions: perking up in interest, flicking about whenever they were distracted, folding back when they were annoyed - and the mistress' ears were large and shapely and complimented her angular cheekbones and slanted eyes well.

And her tail! She must have spent a long time blow-drying it. Her brush was even fluffier than usual.

The mistress caught me staring at her tail and her lips curled into a grin. Then the door chirped and the grin disappeared as she cocked her head at me and started fussing over her appearance. I hurried over to the door and opened it.

Standing in the corridor was another vulpine, the first I'd seen in the flesh since coming to serve the vixen. This one was easily over six and a half feet tall, towering over my own average height, and clearly male: his face was squarer and more aggressive in outline than the vixen's, and his clothing had the unmistakable utility of all masculine clothes, although it was decorated with the gold embroidery which vulpines seem to favour in their formal attire.

I looked up at him, wondering just how I should invite him in, when he grinned at me and took a step forward. Alarmed, I moved aside but he reached out and grabbed me by the collar and with little effort lifted me clear off the floor. I cried out in both surprise and pain, for my shirt had become an impromptu noose around my neck, cutting off my breath. I kicked my legs like a man being hanged as all the while the vulpine's eyes looked me up and down.

The vixen appeared. "Release my servant, Raboso," she said. "You'll damage him."

Raboso laughed and immediately set me back on my feet. As I double over gasping I felt his large hand pat me on the back.

"So they're just as fragile as they say," he said. "Little wonder we won as easily as we did."

"Maybe so," said the vixen. "But they're also intelligent."

Raboso leaned down and brought his face close to mine. I coughed and brought myself back up to full height and stared back at him. My lungs still burned but I wasn't going to give him any satisfaction from his bullying.

His grin deepened. "Small and smooth, but it looks like there's a male inside there after all." He brushed me aside and took hold of the vixen's hand. "Shall we, Azeri?"

The vixen snorted at him. "You males and your macho posturing." Then she smiled and ran a long-nailed hand through the short fur of his bare arm. "But I suppose that's why I love you."

She glanced at me. There was annoyance but also some other emotion I couldn't divine in her gold eyes. "Be sure to complete your evening duties, human. I do not want you slacking off merely because I'm not at home."

"I won't, mistress." I bowed. The vixen closed the door and I retreated back inside.

My heart still racing from Raboso's manhandling, I swallowed back the bile of my humiliation and threw myself into the myriad of jobs awaiting me.

----

My duties completed, I sat up waiting for the vixen to return. Wait. There was no need to call her the vixen any more, was there? She had a name: Azeri. Azeri.

So I suppose Raboso was her mate. Well, boyfriend maybe. Not her husband, though. I'd learned from the TV that vulpine' society was more or less similar to our own. They usually had only a single mate, although some important males had larger families: not multiple wives or mistresses it seemed, but other vulpines attached to him, most of which were female but who took the role of nursemaids for the children. I didn't really understand how it was supposed to work.

I shook my head. I was wasting time. I was only part way through the textbook of their language. They were arrogant fools to give me the chance I needed. Once I knew how to read their language, finding the code would be easier. If vulpines were anything like humans, it would be written somewhere. Mind you, Azeri seemed too smart to leave such a thing lying around. It was probably on her phone. I'd need to wait until I could take it from her.

I glanced at the clock and tested myself. Vulpine clocks were divided into sixteen periods of around 45 smaller increments roughly equivalent to minutes. That meant...

It was very late. She'd never been this late before.

I was being stupid. She wasn't coming home. She was staying at Raboso's place. You didn't get done up like that to just go to dinner. She was wearing those sexy clothes for a reason.

How did foxes do it? Doggy style? No, wait, foxes aren't dogs, although they do act a bit dog-like at times. Foxy-style.

Not funny. I pushed the image from my head. The thought of that bully fucking her made me sick. Wait. She was at least as big a bully as he was. They suited each other.

And yet...

I plunged back into the book and did the chapter's exercises over and over until I got them all right. Then I started the next chapter, even though my eyes were aching from tiredness.

I must have fallen asleep. The vixen was standing in the living room, staring at me. I hadn't even heard the door open.

She was frowning. "What are you doing awake?" Her mouth slid into an unhappy grin. "And lying so arrogantly on the couch as though you own the place. Go to your room."

I grabbed my book and got off the couch, muttering a sleepy apology. I'd only taken a few steps when Azeri said, "Wait."

I stopped. She brushed past me, tossed her handbag on the floor and collapsed onto the couch. "Get me something to drink."

I hurried back from the kitchen with a bottle of that gin-like berry liquor and a small glass. She glanced at the glass and shook her head. "No, go get a bigger one. Oh, and one for yourself."

I blinked at her. "Mistress?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just do it. I'm sick of arguments tonight. I might be pathetic, but not pathetic enough to drink alone."

I returned and poured Azeri a large drink and then one for myself at her urging. She grabbed her drink from me and knocked it back. I stood there with my own and took a sip. The liquor burned but was delicious. Azeri glanced up at me and rolled her eyes.

"Sit down, would you? You're making me nervous."

I glanced about. Should I sit at the bench?

Azeri patted the space beside her. "Here. I don't want to wait for you when I need a refill."

I did as I was told. It felt awkward sitting next to her, after the distance she'd kept me at for so long. The situation was similar to that of a week ago and despite the awkwardness, I grew excited. This was my chance. Something had happened to her tonight and she seemed ready to drink her problems away.

I sipped my drink. Azeri watched me and laughed.

"You drink like a vixen. Put some effort into it. I don't want to be drunk alone."

I had no choice but to do as she said. I'm not shy of knocking them back, but I'd planned on pacing myself. I might not get another chance to further my escape for a long time, and I didn't want to drunkenly screw things up.

The liquor burned going down and a pleasurable warmth spread throughout my chest. Azeri watched me drink and murmured. "Good. That's better." Then she turned her eyes from me and looked about the room. "You've done an excellent job as always. It's a nice change coming back to a home that feels like one."

"Thank you mistress," I said.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Don't make me laugh. I know your servile manner is all for show. You grit your teeth every time you say 'mistress', did you know that?" She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "It's better for you to get used to being a servant. You'll be happier in the long run." She sighed. "Listen to me. Talking to you about happiness like you were another vulpine. I really am..."

She broke off what she was saying and took a drink which went on until she'd drained the glass. After I refilled it, she took a smaller sip then leaned over and placed the glass on the coffee table. She repositioned herself on the couch so that her back was against the armrest and she was facing me. Her gold eyes considered me with a strange intensity. A frown, more sad than angry, settled onto her face.

"I once said I wanted you to talk more, but you're still as quiet as a golem at times. I'm sick of males who keep everything hidden. You're my servant. I order you to tell me something about yourself."

I stared at her. She seemed upset by something and I felt a dangerous undercurrent in her words. "What would you like to know, mistress?"

She reclaimed her drink. "Do you have a mate back on... what's your planet called? Earth?"

"Yes, Earth," I replied. "And no, I don't have a mate."

Azeri's eyes slipped over me. "I can't really tell if you're considered good looking," she said. "But you don't strike me as ugly. Why don't you have a mate?"

"Well," I said, taken aback by the question. "I guess I've just never met the right girl. I mean, I've gone out with my share of girls, but..." Why the hell was I telling her all this? "Well, things've never really gone on long enough to get serious, I guess."

Azeri laughed, an unpleasant sound. "So you humans are really no different from us. Afraid of commitment, I suppose?"

"No," I said. "They always ended up breaking up with me."

The vixen's smile slid from her face. She took a long drink and arched her eyebrows. "Well, I suppose it's for the better you don't have a mate or any kits. I might have felt bad about keeping you here."

She fell silent. After a while I decided that it was better to keep her talking. The more she talked the more she drank and I didn't want the opportunity to slip away. "Mistress, is Raboso your mate?"

A look of surprise flashed across her face. For a moment her expression teetered on an edge between anger and unhappiness, but she turned away before I could learn which direction it ended up in.