"Then maybe we'll pick a new one." And I give him my brightest smile.
6
CRULDEN?
I wasn't expecting to touch her.
In fact, I expected her to stay in the hall like the guards do. The moment the cage was taken from my quarters and the collar exchanged for it, they've been giving the door to my quarters a wide berth, as if they expect me to bust through and attack them. Which is fair, given I've done exactly that in the past.
She's fearless in her soft, smiley sort of way. It's like she's decided that she's going to be a warrior, but on her own terms. She fights not with claw and muscle, but with sweet words and sweeter smiles. It works, too. They all dance to her tune, and I do, too. It's hard not to give this female everything she wants. Not when she smells so good and looks so delicious.
There have been a great many changes in the last few days, but I like this one the best. I lean against the sink again, watching as Bee moves and sits down on her stool across from me. Just knowing that I can reach out and touch her fascinates me. Knowing that she is right there, that I can move over to her and run my hand along that soft arm? It pleases me…and it makes me hunger for more.
The male's scent is on her face again today, but her cunt remains dry. I have never mated, but I know what it smells like. Lord va'Rin came in with his pretty little mate when I first arrived, and although she was pregnant, he whispered filthy things into her ear and made her cunt fill with fragrant need. That taught me a lot, listening in to that conversation and her reactions to it. When a male arouses his mate, her body responds.
Bee does not respond to her male, and I cannot wait to test her. To see if she responds to me.
I know she will. I am a champion, after all. Why not in this?
I wonder what Bee's cunt would smell like if I aroused her with soft words? If I told her all the things I thought about doing to her body in the dead of night? When the lights are off and the guards think I am sleeping, I instead think about the aching heat of my cock, and how it rises when I think about Bee. The implanted memories I have are enough that I know the mechanics of mating, but I have no practical experience. Would she let me touch her cunt? Would she let me push my cock inside her?
She is soft, though, and I am not. I am barbed all over. It would hurt her. I have never cared about hurting someone before, but I care about hurting Bee.
"Well," Bee asks, crossing those thick, yet delicate, enticing legs of hers as she sits on the stool. "Have you given it much thought?"
My cock twitches in my trou. "All the time," I growl. "But mostly late at night."
Her head tilts to the side and a little frown crosses her rounded face. "Why at night?"
Because it is the only privacy I have, those moments in the darkness when I can hide in the back of my cage and rub the heel of my palm against my aching shaft? "I do not want to be overheard."
"Oh." Bee leans forward. "Would you like your new name to be a secret, then?"
My name?
I suddenly want to laugh. Of course we are talking about names and not the violent longings I have for her. "I suppose it does not matter," I say, swiftly changing subjects before my cock hardens enough to tent the front of the loose trou that they have given me to wear. I touch the collar at my neck, because it feels strange against my fur, but not as obtrusive as the cuffs were. "What do you want to call me?"
Her brows draw together and she laughs, for once her smile real and genuine. "That's not how names work."
"How do they work, then?"
"You pick your name."
"Did you pick yours?"
The rounded swells of her cheeks flush with color and her scent heightens. "Well, not really. My mother gave it to me at birth. It was my grandmother's name, so she passed it down. But everyone has always just called me Bee, and I prefer that." She clasps her hands in her lap. "Your situation is slightly different. If you have parents, they're not around to tell us what they prefer to call you, so I think it's safe to say that you can pick your own name. Do you have anything that you like?"
I lift one shoulder in a shrug, then scratch at one of the spikes that pierces through my skin. They are scabbed up, and it itches. "Champion?"
"Um." She considers this. "Maybe 'Champ'?"
"Maybe not." I curl my lip with distaste. It sounds…cheery. I do not like cheery…unless it's her.
"Then give me another suggestion," she says, folding her hands over her knee. "What about…Victor? Short for Victorious?"
"What about 'Ultimate One'?"
She giggles, her hand going to her mouth, and the sound is delightful, even if she is laughing at me. "I wouldn't be able to call you that with a straight face.
Her smile pleases me. "Perhaps you should suggest more names and I will decide if they are worthy."
Bee taps a finger on her chin, thinking. "Well, let me think. I don't think you're a Stan or a Bob and you're certainly not a Junior. You need a unique name that suits you, but also one I won't feel silly calling you." Her eyes go unfocused for a moment, and then she looks at me. "What about Victor? It might suit you."
Victor. As in, a champion. A winner. I like it. I nod. "Prime is good."
Her smile broadens. "I'll just have to remember to call you that. Victor. I think it’s a good name." She gestures at my room. "Speaking of, what do you think of the improvements?"
I shrug.
She notices me leaning against the sink, and her expression becomes thoughtful. "You don't like the changes? Do you miss the cage? Is that it? Did you feel safer there?"
Safer? I snort. "I do not miss the cage, no."
"Then what is it, Victor?"
She is testing my name out, seeing if I like it. Seeing if I will respond to it. I like the sound of it, especially on her lips. Even so, the question she asks me is a little uncomfortable, because I hate showing weakness. Not that this shows weakness, but it shows I don't belong, which is almost as bad. "The bed," I point out, and then deliberately touch one of the spikes on my arms. "It won't work for me."
"Oh." Bee looks over at it, crestfallen. The mattress is a thin, soft pad, the blankets atop equally fragile. I'll shred them the moment I lie down, and then I know they will mock me, or take them away.
I don't want anyone snatching what's mine, even if it's a blanket I cannot use.
The human gets to her feet and moves to the bed, frowning. She picks up the blanket and folds it, moving to the foot of the mattress pad. "There are sturdier blankets," she offers. "I could switch them out. Perhaps a mattress filled with hay might be more efficient than one filled with cotton down?"
"Leave it alone," I growl. "I didn't suggest it because I want you to remove it. It's mine."
Bee smiles up at me, her managing smile, and she doesn't back off at the sound of my growl. She moves to my side and touches my arm, her fingers light on the short fur that covers my skin.
My body grows hot at that small touch, my cock instantly responding. "Wh-what are you doing?"