by L. M. Brown
* * * *
Farron paced the floor of the small room he rented at the community boarding house where he had taken up residence while waiting for Delta to return to Lupalia.
Just as he did most days, Farron headed over to the spaceport as soon as he had eaten. He queued as long as it took for him to determine that Delta’s ship had not returned, before he went to continue his search for news about the former inhabitants of the Pleasure Station, and most importantly Trix.
The Canine Information Network wasn’t too bad at providing news, and something as scandalous as the Pleasure Station was a popular topic to report on. While it might have been located in feline territory, there were plenty of other species who frequented the place, and canines flocked to the station just as much as the rest.
Farron wished that Cygon had a decent communication system. Unfortunately, a large asteroid belt a few days out of Cygon prevented any direct communications from that planet to the nearest relay station. The clan had talked about installing relay points on several of the asteroids to combat the problem, but nothing ever seemed to get done about it. Not that it would help him now.
Thinking about the relays had him checking the ones from Falcair and he was surprised to find that while there was no direct instant communication possible between the Falcon Clan’s home world and Lupalia, there was a decent relay between Falcair and Furyne, thanks to several high nobles of a previous generation joining various avian nests on Falcair, and wanting to keep in contact with their home world on a regular basis. The service was expensive, but he had plenty of credits at his disposal.
He had been stuck on Lupalia for far too long already and was no further on in his search than he had been the day he had arrived. Delta must have arrived on Falcair by now. Why hadn’t he responded to his message? Had he misread the canine so badly?
The thought plagued him that he shouldn’t be relying on Delta to help him. He was the one who had accidentally mated with Trix, and it was his responsibility to track down the feline and complete the mating bond.
As he sat at the terminal later that evening, trawling through any reports he could find about the Pleasure Station, a holographic message popped up on the left of the database he was trawling through. Had the canine from the port managed to get his message to Delta? Was this his reply?
He accepted the message, but was soon disappointed when a holographic head of a female canine appeared. The hologram was a recording and all Farron could do was view it, with no option to respond or ask questions.
He listened to the recording several times.
“This message is for whoever has been trying to reach Delta. I know you sent a message for him to Falcair, but I can’t view it as it was a private communication. As I was delivering Delta’s cargo, the message was pinged over to my ship for passing on to Delta. If you haven’t already caught up to Delta, he’s on his way to the Pleasure Station.”
Farron checked the date of the message and cursed that it didn’t tell him when Delta had altered his course. Thankfully, the journey was long enough that there was a very good chance that Delta hadn’t reached the station yet.
He had no doubt that Delta was going to check that Trix was well. Even the most randy of canines wouldn’t abandon his cargo to someone else, just to detour weeks out of his way for a quick fumble with a whore. Delta must have heard about the Pleasure Station and felt the same connection to Trix that Farron did.
Within the hour, Farron had packed his belongings and had booked passage back to the Pleasure Station. He felt as though he were going round in circles, but with Delta to help him, they had a much better chance of tracking Trix down.
Two weeks later, when Farron arrived back at the Pleasure Station the first thing he did was check the docks for Delta. He didn’t seem to be around, and Farron hoped he had beaten him there and that Delta hadn’t already been and gone. Surely he couldn’t have got back there all the way from Falcair that quickly?
He booked into one of the rooms on the station, grimacing at the inflated prices the humans were now charging. He supposed that without the sex trade they had to make the credits to run the station somehow, but even so, the price was very steep.
Farron spent his days wandering around the station, talking to the felines who had chosen to stay, as well as the humans, in the hope that someone might have heard from Trix. Perhaps he had friends on the Pleasure Station who he would want to keep in touch with?
The more residents he spoke to, the more he came to doubt that Trix would ever come back this way. Some of the felines were openly derisive of Trix because he was dual-gendered. Others thought themselves better than Trix because they were able to make credits for their rent with other skills such as serving at the bar. Most of them, however, hadn’t heard of Trix at all.
Farron wondered at how few friends Trix must have had on the station, and his heart ached for the loneliness he must have felt. Maybe if he’d had someone he could trust on the station, he might have stuck around long enough for Farron to come back to him.
One or two of the felines suggested that Farron might like to retire to a quiet corner with them, but Farron refused. The only one he could provide with cream was Trix, regardless of how many felines tried to slip their paws under his kilt to try to coax him to life. He pushed aside the guilt at refusing their offer, especially when it was obvious they were not feeding properly. In fact, when he looked at the felines still on the station, he could see that many of them were painfully thin.
“Why don’t you all feed from each other?” he asked the latest feline who had approached him in such a manner. They were sat at a table near the docks and he had one eye on the entrance, keeping a close watch for Delta.
“We do, as much as we can, but the new owners discourage us from feeding in public and not all of us can afford the rooms here now.”
“Then where are you staying?”
“We just wander the station.”
“But where do you sleep?”
“Anywhere we can find a spot quiet enough.”
Farron glared at a passing human as he squeezed the feline’s shoulder in a futile gesture of comfort. “The humans didn’t think about what they were doing when they took over the station, did they?”
“No, they didn’t, and there’s going to be trouble sooner or later.”
“What do you mean?”
The feline gestured around him. “The high noble felines might be glad that the Pleasure Station is no longer running as it was, but the common felines are not so happy. This might not have been perfect, and goodness knows there were enough felines and other species who avoided the place in case they ended up forcibly put to work, but it’s no better now.”
“There were felines forced to work here?” Farron had thought only the exotic species were held against their will.
“Most dual-gendered felines, particularly those who are male dominant, avoid this place. They are most popular with customers and with so few in residence the owners weren’t above the idea of detaining those who wandered in unawares.”
“Trix, the feline I’m looking for is dual-gendered. He seemed to be here by choice.”
“I don’t know anyone called Trix, but even if he wasn’t a prisoner, I doubt he meant to end up here. No one wants to live this life. I know I wouldn’t, if I had other options.”
Farron gave him a curious glance and the feline opened up to tell him about his life and how he had found himself living on the Pleasure Station. The tale sounded much the same as others he had heard during his stay, and he wondered whether Trix’s story might be similar. He wished they’d had time to talk more, to learn about each other, when they had the chance. Maybe if they had, he could guess where Trix was now.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to give me a little cream?” the feline purred into his ear.
“I can’t,” Farron replied, genuinely sorry that he couldn’t help feed the friendly young male beside him. “I’m from the swan clan, and I�
��ve accidentally bound myself to Trix, which means I can never be unfaithful to him.”
“Feeding and sex aren’t necessarily the same thing for us felines.”
Farron shook his head. “Nevertheless, it’s too similar for my kind, and I assure you, my cock has no intention of rising to the occasion.”
“Are you sure about that?” The feline inched his fingers a little higher, finally reaching the soft flesh. He stroked the length twice, frowned and removed his hand. “Oh.”
Farron chuckled. “I told you.”
“Would my mouth work?”
“No. There’s only one mouth my cock will respond to, and that’s the mouth belonging to the feline who’s carrying my young.”
“Then you’re celibate until you find him?”
“Yes.”
“That must be frustrating.”
Farron shrugged. “Not really. It’s not like I’m hard and aching for him all the time. I can’t even get as much as a twitch with my own hand. I’m just worried that I won’t find him in time.”
“In time?”
“Before the birth,” Farron explained. “Time is running out and I’ve no idea how to find him. If he gives birth before I track him down, I’ll truly be celibate, for the rest of my life.”
The feline frowned and shook his head. “Your clan has some very strange customs.”
Farron chuckled and nudged the feline. “Says the feline who lives on the cream sucked from a male’s cock.”
“Point taken.”
They sat companionably until the feline saw a better prospect for his next meal and left Farron to watch the docks once more.
Chapter Nine
Trix arrived at the fifth spaceport since his departure from Poltan’s ship. It hadn’t taken him long to realise just how unwelcome felines were at the ports, and all because of their diet. It was even worse than during the days when he had first left Furyne. It had come as no surprise to find the latest station had the usual signs warning that feeding felines would be arrested. He ignored them and decided to do the same as he had on the previous stops, feed when he could, and catch a ride elsewhere if he was in danger of being caught.
It didn’t take long to find a bar, and where there was intoxicated males, there was cream for the taking.
Trix got a water from the bartender. It was the only option his stomach could handle. He sipped it as he checked out the possible customers.
A mixed-breed avian sat down beside him and placed his hand on Trix’s bump.
Trix forced a smile. He had already noticed that there were those who seemed to believe that his pregnant belly was free for touching. He wanted to slap the hand away, but he needed to feed. The more advanced his pregnancy, the more cream he required. So instead of brushing the intrusion off, he placed his hand over the avian’s and gently guided it lower. His cock hardened, even though he didn’t feel any great attraction to the male beside him.
“I heard that pregnant felines are the best cock suckers,” the avian whispered into his ear. “Is it true?”
“Why don’t you take me back to your ship or your room and find out?” Trix kept his tone light and teasing.
“I don’t have a room, and the ship I’m crew on is crowded.”
“Then where do you have in mind?”
The avian gestured to the facilities at the back of the room.
Trix nodded and followed the avian.
When he returned a short while later he was no longer hungry, and a hundred credits richer. He also had a sore arse. The avian had driven a hard bargain, sensing Trix’s desperation, and forcing him to lower his price.
He left the bar and headed to the secluded corridor where he had stashed his belongings. He slipped into the neglected storage cupboard and made a nest out of his precious pillows. Then he curled up on them and closed his eyes to sleep.
The noise of crafts docking and departing kept him from falling into a deep sleep, but he didn’t try to find a new hiding place. The lighter his sleep, the better chance he would have of hearing anyone approaching.
He had started to purchase a few things for the coming litter, clothing and other practical items mainly. He had indulged with one frivolous purchase, a small cuddly toy in the shape of one of the canine species’ ancient ancestors. It had the exact same colouring as Delta, and he hadn’t been able to resist it. He held it close and squeezed the soft fabric. Tears leaked out of his eyes as he wondered where Delta and Farron were now. He had never felt so alone.
* * * *
It wasn’t long before Trix was starting to draw attention to himself again. It wasn’t easy to slip into the background and disappear when you were waddling about four months pregnant. He was already slightly worried about how big he was getting. If he was this size now, what would he be like when the time came for him to give birth?
He spent more time hiding out in his little burrow, only emerging when he had to feed. He alternated which bars he went to, trying not to visit any of them too often.
He had stopped asking for legitimate work at the stores and docks at the second port he had visited. No one wanted to hire a pregnant feline. Almost all of the jobs at the docks involved heavy lifting, something he was in no condition to do. As for the shops, they all wanted someone with experience in sales, and it seemed that selling his body didn’t count. So now he stuck to the only trade he knew, and hoped he could make enough credits to care for the litter when they were born.
The credit balance told him that it was rising, and that he might have enough to hire a room on the spaceport for a whole month. After that he would be destitute.
Each time he shifted uncomfortably on his pillows, he reminded himself that it was only for a little while longer. As soon as he felt the first contraction, he would find a room to stay in. He might have been desperate, but he wasn’t going to bring his babies into the world in a storage closet.
Trix’s instincts told him he was being watched, though he couldn’t catch anyone staring in his direction no matter how fast he turned. Or maybe it was just his guilty conscience.
His latest customer had had a room of his own, and Trix had enjoyed the rarity of being fucked in a bed for the first time since he had left Poltan’s ship.
As he left the hotel he glanced over the prices of rooms and cringed when he realised they had risen yet again. The credits he had just earned wouldn’t even cover the fee of one more night in the smallest room they offered.
As he entered the shopping district the feeling of eyes on him increased, only this time he saw who was watching him. The avian appeared rich, his clothing the royal colours of the eagle clan. Trix captured the avian’s eye but didn’t approach him. He continued on his way, and when he glanced back over his shoulder he saw the eagle following.
He slipped into a corridor between a bar and a tech store that had closed for the day. The eagle followed him.
“How much to fuck your pussy?” he asked.
Trix smiled to cover his annoyance at the insult. “One thousand credits.”
“That’s rather high.”
Trix shrugged. “The one who fucked me first paid five times that.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and now I’m in need of credits to deal with the consequences of that particular night.”
“Maybe you should have charged him more?”
“Perhaps I should charge you more?” Trix countered with a grin.
The eagle laughed. “You’re a daring one, aren’t you?”
“In many ways.”
“One thousand credits,” the eagle agreed. “Now spread those legs and let me see if I can get value for those credits.”
Trix did as he was ordered, shifting his toga out of the way and letting the large avian lift him against the wall. He closed his eyes and willed himself elsewhere, reminding himself once again that he did this for the litter he carried.
The avian left as soon as he was done, not even offering to let Trix feed. Luckily, Trix had taken pl
enty of cream from his last customer.
As he straightened his toga a shadow darkened the entrance to the corridor. He looked up to see two of the spaceport security staff blocking his way. He recognised one of them as someone who had reminded him of the no feeding felines policy a couple of days after his arrival. He hadn’t actually caught him feeding, but he had no doubt guessed what Trix had been doing.
“You didn’t listen to my warning,” the insectoid said.
“I heard you,” Trix replied. “I’ve not been feeding.”
“No, you’ve been fucking. You reek of sex. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that fucking in public is also against the law.”
Trix shrugged but declined to comment.
“I’m sorry, but you’re under arrest. If you’ll come with us.”
Trix knew there was no point in arguing or trying to resist. Insectoids provided the best security because they could often send bolts of power from their antennae, rendering their prey immobile. “Can I at least fetch my things?”
“Where are they?”
Trix pointed to the corridor over the way. “Down there, in a storage cupboard.”
The insectoid nodded. “Very well, but if you try anything like escaping, you’ll soon regret it.”
Trix had no intention of trying to run. He didn’t know what the punishment for his actions was, but a few days of being regularly fed would be a blessing. Other species didn’t like the feline way of feeding, but they were bound by the law and had to ensure that even felines were adequately fed whilst they were in the custody of the authorities.
* * * *
Trix sat on the hard chair as the insectoid and the avian waited for a response to their question. “I don’t know.”
The avian sighed and shook her head. “You’re telling me that you don’t know who has fathered a litter on you?”
“That’s right.” Trix was glad he had fed right before being arrested. He had been waiting in the cell for hours, before the interrogation began. He was tired, his back ached, and he just wanted this over with. He had expected to be asked if he knew he was breaking the law, and then given his punishment. Instead, the two security staff seemed to be more interested in asking him impertinent questions about his sex life.