© 1991,1998,2003 Watts Martin
This story deals with adult themes and sexual situations.
– Chapter 4 –
Two days after Teisha had made love to Troll, Allin found an encyclopedia of pets in her bookcase.
He didn't know if that was really what it was, of course—but it was one of the few books with illustrations, and all of them were of animals. The pictures themselves rendered the rabbit 'morphs and their animals perfectly, neither paintings nor drawings but what he guessed to be an advanced, full-color daguerreotype process.
And the animals—
No normal cats or dogs, no mice or birds, could be found in the book's pages. Most of the animals were quadrupeds, but Allin recognized few of them. All but a very few would be considered quite large by Ranean standards.
It wasn't until he reached the very back of the book that any pages featured humans. Evidently he was a more exotic pet than he had realized; he suspected Teisha had spent a great deal more money than she should have to purchase him. Her home, as nice as it was, did not suggest she had much income to spare on such frivolities as rare animals.
The humans were shown not only being cuddled and posed for the pictures, but doing tasks around the house, such as cleaning, dishwashing, even cooking. Perhaps humans were partway between pets and slaves; in a sense, this was good—it allowed him a little more freedom than a pet might normally have, without the responsibilities of a slave—but conversely, it explained Teisha's maddening lack of surprise at his independence and reasoning. He came across as a perversely temperamental chimpanzee. But why didn't she want him to do any chores? She was content to let him be a house cat.
The last page of the human section featured a picture of a rabbit buck, clad only in briefs, with a relatively pretty human girl on his lap. One of his hands was completely covering her left breast and massaging the nipple of her right with one fingertip. His other hand was between her thighs. Her face showed pleasure and an almost idiotic, placid trust in her owner.
Well.
Allin stared at the text under the picture, dying to have even a general idea of what it said. Was this pose supposed to be innocent, or was it common to take advantage of pets?
He flipped back through the book. Several other bipedal species were shown, but none in any more suggestive pose than a rabbit doe kissing a two-foot tall fur-covered… something on the neck in much the same way a human might kiss her cat on the top of the head. Or the way Teisha had kissed Allin on the top of his head.
All right. Was it common to take advantage of human pets?
He had already assumed humans were treated differently than other animals. What was Teisha's purpose in buying him? A pet who could provide companionship on a level a cute little doggie-equivalent couldn't match? Or had she planned to use him as a sex toy? No, almost certainly not.
But was it really that certain? She had "found" Troll shortly after buying him, after all. If she hadn't…?
It seemed like a well-tempered form of bestiality to him, but he was at her culture's mercy. He'd come to think of Teisha as a nice, awkwardly shy woman, but her wanting a sex pet wasn't at odds with that view. In fact, it might fit very well.
Allin sighed, putting the book back on the shelf, then stretching out on the couch. She hadn't come home at all last night; he assumed she had spent the night at Silarant's. He didn't like seeing her spend that much time with Troll… but he might not like seeing her spend that much time home alone, either.
* * *
He was dragged from the nap he had fallen into by being scooped up and twirled around at arm's length, Teisha's hands under his shoulders and straight out above her head. Allin blinked, feeling a sudden flash of vertigo at the sight of Teisha's laughing face three feet under his. "I missed you too," he said. "Put the mountain climber down before he gets a fear of heights."
She set him down on the couch with a thump and skipped into the kitchen. Watching an eight-and-a-half foot tall rabbit skip was, Allin decided, an awe-inspiring sight. Especially one built like Teisha, wearing a short skirt. They weren't the same clothes she had left with. Troll had, apparently, taken her shopping. They lacked the plain dullness of Teisha's normal style, but if Troll had selected them his fashion sense—at least for women's clothing—needed almost as much help as Teisha's did. If the blouse's cut was a touch less conservative, the look would border on trampy.
The sound of pots and pans came from within the kitchen; Allin wandered into the room and stood by the cooktop. He was at eye-level with a skillet, not able to see inside but able to smell it. Stir-fry?
Teisha shooed him away from the stove as she worked. "No, Allin. Wait."
He started. "Did you—?"
No. She had spoken in her own language; it had been so long since he had heard another speaking Ranean that he'd become accustomed to the rabbits' flowing trills as if it were his own tongue. Jumo. He had translated it as "wait" without thinking about it, even though he couldn't recall hearing it before. It could also mean "stay," or "out"—but those were thafir and hris, weren't they?
She took a pot from behind the skillet off the cooktop, drained it and dumped a rice-like grain onto a large plate. Then she did the same with the skillet. Opening up a drawer, she took out two forks, one full-sized (three-quarters of a foot long) and a smaller dessert fork, and put them on the plate. Heading out to the living room, she brushed past Allin, taking his hand and pulling him after her.
She set the plate down on the coffee table, then sat down on the floor between it and the couch. "Wim."
Allin followed her motions and sat beside her. The table was low for her, at chest level on him. "Okay, now what?"
Teisha took the larger fork and ate a bite with it slowly and carefully, making sure he was watching.
"This is an intelligence test, isn't it?" he asked. He picked up the dessert fork, watching her expression to make sure it was still positive, and took a bite of the food himself, scooping up some of the grain and a few vegetables. It was exotically seasoned—although to her it might be quite ordinary—and perfectly done. "You're a very good cook."
"Choni, Allin!" she said, beaming. "Choni!"
"Woof."
They finished eating the food together, Allin surprising himself with his appetite. He hadn't realized how hungry he was for a meal that wasn't… that was real. The food he had been living on was surely prepared the same way pre-made pet food was in Ranea—not bad, certain to be disgustingly nutritious, but the same flavor and texture throughout.
"Thank you," he said after they were finished. "And you wouldn't know how deeply I meant that even if you could understand me." He rose to his knees and kissed her quickly on the cheek.
Teisha let out a low, charming squeak of surprise, then kissed Allin on the cheek a little less quickly before rising to her feet and taking the plate back out to the kitchen.
Allin sat down on the couch and blinked twice, the warm wetness of her lips and the cool, hard feel of her two big front teeth fading from his skin, and laughed softly.
When she came back out a few minutes later dressed only in underwear, he decided to play it safe and retired to the bedroom. He obediently let her hug him, which was a mistake; she played with him for a few minutes by trapping him between her legs and holding him on the couch until he squirmed free, letting her affectionately tickle him as he walked past her head.
As he lay on his mattress waiting for sleep, he smiled ruefully. Well, at least you're getting better. Hardly any arousal. He wondered what Teisha's reaction would have been if he had started tickling her instead of squirming free, but decided he was better off not knowing.
* * *
In the middle of the night, Allin realized someone was sitting beside his mattress. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. A human sat in the shadows, looking at him with a sourly amused expression. Something was odd about him—not just that he was wearing clothes. "Mott?" Allin said after a moment, brow furrowed.
Mott brushed at his permanently wrinkled black denim jacket. He had always worn it; it was one of the things Allin had saved. It was gone now along with the rest of his supplies, of course. The pack was probably still out there, rotting where dropped. Allin realized it was the first time he had thought about the pack since losing it. "I lost your jacket," Allin whispered.
Mott laughed. "Not like I need it." He tapped out his pipe on Teisha's immaculate carpet. "How long you been here?"
"Here?" Allin frowned. "With Teisha?"
"It's important." Mott looked at him piercingly from under his bushy black eyebrows.
"Three… three weeks and four days."
"Hmm. So what the hell are you just sittin' for? Expectin' a search party?"
Allin looked up at the bed. Teisha still slept soundly. He looked back at Mott, who had refilled his pipe and was lighting it. "It's not like I can just walk out the door, Mott."
"Depends on whether you think it's better to spend the rest of your life in a pen or risk gettin' killed to get out."
"I was in a pen before. This isn't it."
"This is just a nice pen." Mott blew a smoke ring and watched it travel over Teisha's sleeping form before speaking again. "So what's your plan?"
"I'm trying to learn her language."
Mott laughed. "Fine idea. 'Sit up.' 'Roll over.' 'Comb mistress's tail.' How you going to use that to tell her she has the wrong idea about you?"
Allin looked away. "I'm going to have to learn more than that—"
"Damn right you are." Mott blew another smoke ring; this one somehow suggested the shape of a dog's collar and leash before disappearing.
Allin looked back up at Mott, but the apparition had vanished.
* * *
He spent the next day going through books, trying to find any that might be suitable for learning the language. After a few hours of perusal, though, he admitted this was a dead end. He only knew the vocal language; reading books would require Teisha's help.
More searching around the room revealed a lot of boxes he was unwilling to disturb, a few decks of cards completely unlike any in Ranea. And, oddly enough, a chess set.
Chess was not native to Ranea; nobody knew exactly what plane it had originated on, or if its earliest variants had developed independently of one another. There were as many different versions of it as there were races, but some were almost universal. Teisha's set corresponded to one of the less common variants; it had simpler rules than the most popular chess game in the Empire, but its proponents claimed that was an advantage, as players could spend more time developing strategy and tactics rather than worrying about which movement pattern was available to which piece in which situation.
The pieces had been carved out of a light, shiny stone, with the appearance of marble and obsidian but half the weight of either. They stood over twice the size of the pieces he was used to playing with, bigger than a "standard" set even in proportion to the rabbits; his fist could close around a pawn and still have the top and base peeking out. The king and queen were nine inches tall.
He took the set over to the coffee table and set up the board in the normal pattern. All in all, it looked fabulously expensive. Evidently Teisha was given to occasional, likely budget-breaking extravagances. Like him.
The box had a diagram of all the pieces, with the written names of each one next to its illustration. Wonderful. He still couldn't convince Teisha he was intelligent, but if necessary, he'd be able to write the rabbits' word for "bishop."
He was in the kitchen getting food when he heard Teisha yelling something that sounded like a curse from the living room. He ran back out, wincing.
She had collected the books he'd left on the couch and was shoving them back into the bookcase angrily. When she saw him, she continued yelling. You've made a mess, stupid animal. He hadn't realized how late it had become.
Teisha gestured angrily at the chess board, still yelling. Then, instead of merely noticing it, she looked at it. She dropped the last book she held, walking toward the board slowly. "Vo runa brakiba?" she mumbled, kneeling by the board. "Prash, Allin."
"Don't be angry," Allin whispered, staying still. "Prash, Allin!" she said sharply, looking across at him and gesturing him toward her. He swallowed and walked over.
When he was within arm's length, she pointed at him. "Vo runa," she pointed at the chessboard, "brakiba?"
He looked up at her. "Kin?" she said. "No sa?"
Shit, I don't know what you're saying! he thought madly at her. He reached to the chess board hesitantly; her eyes narrowed, remaining locked on his face, but she made no move to stop him. His hand shaking more than it had the night he drank five pots of coffee in two hours, he picked up the white king's pawn and moved it forward two squares. "Sa?" Teisha whispered, folding her arms across her chest. She pursed her lips, eyes unfocused, and sat that way for a full minute without saying a word. Then she reached down and moved the black queen's pawn forward two squares and looked down at him.
Allin studied her, his fear of being beaten subsiding. Now what? He looked up at Teisha's eyes. She wasn't smiling, but she no longer looked angry. He took a deep breath, looked down at the board and made another move.
* * *
For some reason he'd hoped to be able to impress her with how well he played chess, not merely that he knew how; when he had been in Raneadhros for about a year, he had joined the Federal Chess Society and had received a rating of 108, well past Journeyman rank and only twelve points shy of Master, the highest title awarded by the group. Teisha played two games with him, letting him go first each time; she beat him in twenty-eight moves the first game and in a humiliating seventeen the second. "This may convince you I have more potential than what you expected when you bought me, bunny, but it's not going too far toward proving I'm as intelligent as you are," he sighed as she checkmated his king the second time.
After the game, she cooked them another meal, and they sat on the couch together, the plate on Teisha's lap. Several times she looked down at him and started to speak, waiting as if he was going to respond, then caught herself, sinking back into the couch and staring at him with a puzzled expression.
The third time she did that, he smiled at her. After a moment, she smiled back, although she still looked puzzled.
He stroked her side lightly. "Well, I'm finally getting somewhere with you. Hell. Maybe you feel the same way about me, hmm?"
She nestled down against the couch slightly, mrrring. He stroked along her arm, allowing himself to concentrate on how soft her fur was. Whether or not he chose to admit it, sitting with her like this felt quite good.
When she started stroking his leg in return, though, it started to feel good in slightly different ways. He shifted a bit uncomfortably, wishing he'd get over that reaction to her soft touch.
In a few more minutes she patted him, and started to stand. On sudden impulse Allin rose to his knees and beeped her on the nose.
He thought he was ready for any reaction, but not the one she had. She caught his hand with hers before he withdrew it and cupped the back of his hand in her palm, her thumb gently pinning his, and brought it up to her face. Then she licked it from the base of his wrist to the tip of his middle finger before releasing him and walking into the bedroom.
Allin sat in place for a few minutes, trying unsuccessfully not to think of that tongue caressing other parts of his body. He shivered slightly.
As he went to sleep that night, Allin wondered how his relationship to Teisha would change if they learned to speak intelligently with one another. Or even if they didn't.
* * *
He had hoped Teisha might think to come home with children's books, something to help him learn more than simple commands. When she walked through the door, two hours late again, empty-handed but for her purse, he felt slightly cheated. "For God's sake, I play chess. What else do I need to do to get through to you?" he snapped as she closed the door.
But for the first time since she had brought him home, she didn't greet him. Instead she walked past him, throwing her purse and then her body on the couch, burying her face in her hands.
Allin frowned, crossing over to the couch and touching her knee gently. She pushed him away in irritation.
He sat down on the floor by the couch, stunned. She'd rejected an approach from him. That was… wrong. Teisha simply didn't do that.
After a few moments she rose, padded into the kitchen and returned with a big—even by her standards—glass, filled with a translucent amber liquid. She sat down again, taking a small sip. Then she took a much larger one.
"You've had a shitty day, and you're going to get yourself drunk now."
She didn't look over at him, continuing to sniffle and sip until she had finished the glass.
Allin sighed and went into the kitchen, coming back out with a plate of vegetables, setting it down in front of her. She ignored it. He shrugged and picked up a carrot, realizing he was feeling more upset with her than concerned about her. When he actually tried to be a comforting pet, she pushed him away.
After she had finished most of her second glass—about two hours later—Teisha shuffled into the bedroom.
Allin picked up the glass with both hands, sniffed, and took a sip. It contained a fortified fruit wine—he guessed twenty percent by volume. Even as big as she was, she was asking for a hell of a hangover tomorrow.
When he went into her room a few minutes later, she was passed out, still clothed, across her bed. "Teisha?" he called softly. No response. Then he frowned at himself; that was the first time he had called her, aloud, by her name since… since he could remember.
* * *
Allin woke not to the sounds of his owner dressing, but retching. He sat up and looked through the open bedroom door across the hallway; the bathroom door stood open, showing Teisha leaning against the toilet, looking awful.
As he walked around the bed, she stumbled to the sink and splashed water on her face, then slowly sat down on the floor, resting against the wall and moaning.
"I think this is your day off, and that's damn good," Allin said, coming over to her, "because you're barely in good enough shape to find the bed again."
She looked up, not quite at him. "Silarant?" she mumbled. Then she closed her eyes, moaning again. "Kin. Theffin libala…."
Allin reached down to her, pulling at one arm insistently. She did look at him this time, not comprehending; her clothes were disheveled and her ears were back, almost limp, with confusion. The sight was comically miserable.
"We need to get you to bed. Prash," he said, pulling at her arm harder.
She looked at him, wide-eyed, mouth slightly open, then drew herself up, glaring down. "Prash?" she repeated unsteadily. She pointed at herself. "Ji," she said, pausing on the word, "vey voth," accenting the last word and jabbing a hand against his chest hard enough to push him back a few inches, "shifin!" And on that word her hand was around his neck, lifting him up into the air to her head level. Then she tossed him back into the bedroom. "Hris."
Allin skidded across the carpet, rolling against one of the bed's legs. He curled into a ball, whimpering. What had she said? I am your… owner, or mistress. And he had just given her a command.
He felt, rather than saw, her walk toward him, and he curled up tighter. "I'm sorry, mistress," he whispered, desperately wishing he knew the words in her language. Right now he could imagine nothing more terrifying than being the object of Teisha's drunken rage.
But she just stepped over him, dropping onto the bed and groaning.
Allin remained in that position for another ten minutes, then slowly uncurled himself, breathing heavily. There was no drunken rage; if she'd intended to vent her momentary anger on him, he'd already be unconscious or dead. No, he had just pushed her, as he so often did—but this time in the wrong way at the wrong time. He had given her a command, and she'd asserted her authority. She might very well do the same when sober.
After a few more moments, he stood up. She lay on the bed, sprawled in a half-undressed state, moaning softly. Now what? He had watched her make coffee and knew where she kept the pot and supplies, and she was surely in dire need of some. Should he dare? A few minutes ago he wouldn't have even paused.
He padded into the kitchen and climbed onto the counter, searching for the glass coffee pot and then for the basket. Finding the coffee was the hardest part. He guessed at the right amount of grounds for one of Teisha's smaller mugs (he guessed around thirty ounces). The coffee was high-quality, a beautiful, rich smell… he doubled the amount he was making and got down another mug.
A few minutes later he came back into the bedroom carrying both cups, setting them down on the bedside table. She sat up at the smell, winced, and took one of the mugs, staring at it in bewilderment. "Vo… vo runa ni pilromti a jinth?"
Allin quickly sat down on the floor at her feet, eyes lowered, occasionally glancing up at her.
Teisha shook her head weakly and took a drink from one of the mugs, then looked down at him.
"Ch… choni?" he whispered.
Her expression remained impassive. "Sa. Choni," she muttered. "Suf… sufrit i vo." Then she looked at the second mug contemplatively, picked it up, and gently handed it to him.
Allin smiled, feeling absurdly pleased with her approval, and sipped at his coffee, leaning back against the bed by her leg. It was as good as it smelled.
Assuming Teisha remembered this later today, he'd established he was picking up on her language. He knew some of the words. At this point, this wouldn't come as a surprise to her. He didn't know what that'd mean to her, though; if he tried to imagine what they'd do if their roles were reversed, it was difficult to picture any scenario that would lead him to conclude his new pet was as intelligent as he was.
Almost as intelligent as he was, he amended silently. He was beginning to take for granted that, even if she had no few social graces, Teisha was smarter than he was. He wondered if she was as proportionally smarter than him as she was stronger; he'd thought that before, but this time he found the possibility didn't bother him.
Teisha shifted on the bed, moving a leg so it came down across his shoulder. He found himself with a perfectly shaped, albeit oversized, foreleg resting against his chest. He petted it absently. "You have some of the softest fur I've ever felt," he said, daring to rest his head against her knee. He looked up; she had set down the coffee mug, apparently stretched out on the bed again, only her legs visible.
In a moment she returned his pets by stroking him with her foot, toes rubbing his inner thigh. He gasped, reflexively pushing her foot away.
Her other foot came around and started stroking, too. When she exerted her strength, it took both his hands to keep one foot off his skin, and the other one would tickle his thighs, lower belly and several extremely sensitive points between.
He squirmed, trapped between her legs and enjoying the sensation as strongly as he wished she would stop—and hating the contradiction. When he glanced up, he realized she was sitting up now, looking more sober and quite amused. Then he looked down. His arousal was quite visible; he looked away, flushing, wondering if Teisha had noticed the effect she was having on him.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, her tickling moved quite deliberately in that direction, no longer just brushing past his growing erection but running both big toes along it. He gasped and pushed both her legs away with a monumental effort, rolling away from the bed and sitting up a few feet away, just out of leg's reach.
Teisha looked at him with an amused/puzzled expression as he stared back at her, almost panting, waiting for his arousal to subside.
* * *
She had gone out later that afternoon, after giving him the now-customary goodbye kiss and an affectionate—fortunately, not arousing—pat on the buttocks. Allin wasn't even sure she understood his jumping away was connected with where she was "playing" with him, at least on a level other than it being particularly sensitive. Remembering the picture in the animal book, it was possible she figured he'd enjoy it. And she was right. That was why he'd jumped away.
He had never believed having sex with nonhuman sapients was bestiality, and the people who could find a human-elf mating perfectly acceptable but recoil at a human and a fox-girl romancing each other were more puzzling than disgusting to him. If the partners involved all knew what they were getting into and consented to it, then he believed it was nobody else's business. The defining quality of rape was lack of consent. Perhaps that also contained the clearest definition of bestiality, with the presumption that animals are, by definition, nonconsenting.
The humans here—and Teisha's casual sexuality toward him—belied that presumption. Either they weren't animals, the presumption was false, or at least in that respect, the rabbits' society was immoral (making the further presumption that bestiality was a universally immoral behavior, of course).
His thoughts were interrupted by Teisha coming home, slamming the door behind her and marching straight into her bedroom, slamming that door as well.
Allin sighed and walked up to the room's door, opening it softly. The giantess was lying face down on her bed, sniffling sounds muffled by the pillow. With sudden, illuminating clarity, he realized what accounted for the last two days' behavior. Troll had dumped her.
He sat down on the bed next to her, stroking her back with both hands. "He wasn't good for you anyway," he said softly.
Teisha continued to lie there, being massaged, for about ten minutes, then sat up, muzzle wet but no longer crying, and gave him a brief, almost rib-snapping hug before going into the bathroom. The sounds of her before-bed washing routine came through the closed door; it was still early, but she apparently had decided she was having too miserable of a day to let it continue.
She came back out, nude, and tossed her clothes in a negligent heap at the foot of her bed before pulling back the sheets. As she climbed in, Allin started to climb down onto his own mattress, but she caught him by one hand and pulled him close to her, giving him a much more gentle hug this time.
Teisha had pulled him into a position with his head nestled against one breast, his mouth just above the nipple, his body laying awkwardly across her legs. The hug turned into a gentle stroke, and she leaned back against the headboard, propped up against a pillow, one arm holding him to her, the other firmly massaging his back from his neck down to his buttocks. She needs you close, he thought. Don't pull away.
Maybe, he thought as he tried to relax, she just wanted him close. And maybe that was all right. She was warm and so soft, and her touch was… very… arousing. He forced himself not to turn away from that truth. He wanted to be aroused by her. If Troll or any of the other male bunnies didn't find her exciting, it was their loss.
The stroke become the same soft, almost teasing one she'd used on the couch the first night she had met Troll, with the same inevitable physical response. Allin began to tense, trembling slightly as his growing erection pressed against her leg, and his acceptance of her attention began to waver. "I'm not waiting for you to strike the right nerve," he whispered, rolling off her. "Kin," Teisha said softly, sitting up and pulling him, gently but irresistibly, to her lap. "Vo thiy wanti i rofiju, Allin." Before he could react, she lifted her legs up, straightening his out against the bed, and folded hers cross-legged over his, neatly trapping him with his back against her stomach, one of her breasts touching each shoulder.
She began stroking his chest with one hand, leaning her head forward enough to see his reaction. He looked up at her face, reading its loving but mischievous expression, and tried to relax, closing his eyes.
The massage felt wonderful, but the heat of her body wrapped around him did nothing to lessen his arousal. Then her other hand traced lightly down his chest as the first moved up to his chin, tickling his neck.
"Just where are you going with that hand?" he whispered, knowing the answer before the tickle came at his groin. "Uh… no," he gasped as she stroked along the erection, now growing rapidly again; he tried to push her hands away, but this time she was not to be dissuaded, fingers playing lovingly and insistently across him. He protested again, more weakly. Suddenly he couldn't remember no in her language.
One of her palms came down across his length, pressing it against his belly, fingertips resting against his thighs. Then she slid her other hand down the other side and started to squeeze, rolling him between her fingers and palms sharply and repeatedly. He struggled more a moment, then decided to just surrender himself to the overwhelming sensations. His breath started coming faster, more shallowly, and he gasped, leaning into her and holding her legs tightly as if for support.
In a moment it was over. Allin lay flat next to Teisha, not quite remembering when she had gently disengaged him from her lap. He felt foolish, a little perverse and completely exhilirated as he tried to catch his breath. She had already turned off the light and was pulling the sheets over her, giving him the same chaste kiss on the forehead she did every night when she put him to bed. Allin lay looking at her form in the near-darkness, wondering—almost against his will—what her reaction would be if he returned the favor to her some time.
Sometime shortly after he'd realized he was attracted to her, he'd fantasized about… well, about things very similar to what she'd just done with him. He'd wondered if letting her make him climax would ease his lust for her. It hadn't, but it had confused most of his other feelings about her.
Had she just decided that she should relieve his frustration? Had she decided that, without Troll, it was time to ease him into the role she'd actually purchased him for?
He had surrendered to her attentions, yet he had hardly consented. Had he just been raped?
He knew she hadn't intended to rape him; Teisha seemed as devoid of malevolence as anyone he had ever met. He could imagine her thoughts: if I show you what this is like, you'll enjoy it. And, setting aside all but the coarse, hard truth, she would have been right.
But even setting aside the matter of consent, Allin had long ago lost interest in relationships built solely on physical pleasure. His conscience would haunt him if he allowed Teisha to innocently involve him in one.
He looked over at his mistress, studying her huge, graceful form. All of today served as an object lesson in the fallacy of the logic he kept trying to use. Shifin. His wants didn't matter; his conscience was irrelevant. What Teisha wanted mattered. His safety and security depended on her conscience. Time and again, his choice came down to denying that truth, or accepting it. Ji vey voth shifin.
After another moment, Allin nestled against Teisha and fell asleep.
He woke up once in the night, her arm across his chest; he hugged it to himself lightly, without waking her, and fell back asleep, not waking again until after she'd left for work.