Poisonous Fox

If I had to decide which was worse, the Inquisitor or Lady Trigg, I would be hard pressed to decide.

Lady Trigg had led me back to the princess’s pavilion, where I once again found myself leash. Bizarrely enough, Lady Trigg once again tied a simple knot to secure my leash to the ringed post.

It was curious. I wanted to ask. But I remembered what she had claimed: ten lashes for each time I spoke. Besides, leaving the means of escape available would only make escaping easier later, whatever Lady Trigg’s motivations for re-using an already defeated security measure.

Lady Trigg must have read the confusion upon my face, as she tapped the knot as she sat herself on the top of the post, so that her knees were at my eye level. She loomed and she smirked down upon me like an all to smug goddess of ill-fortune and sadism.

“Let me make clear my expectations for you,” Lady Trigg started. “As punishment only works if the subject knows what they’re punished for… the same for rewards in fact. Undoubtedly, you have questions. I can see it in your eyes. A sharp mind. Undoubtedly, you have abilities. Or had, perhaps…” Her eyes lingered on the stump of my arm. She crossed her legs and leaned back, despite the fact there was nothing for her to lean upon. With her perched upon the narrow post, her balance was remarkable, along with the fact that she appeared comfortable.

“For your earlier escape, you will of course, be punished. Have no fear of that.” She nodded, as though that cleared up some of my uncertainty.

I winced.

Her smirk only grew.

“Now then, ground rules…” She paused, her smirk turning uncertain. “You understand that much, yes? Without knowing your past training, indeed, if you had any at all, it should not be assumed that you understand.”

“No, I… I understand,” I bit out.

Her uncertain facade dropped, and she smiled, almost laughing. “Ten lashes, keep count. Now, first rule: speak only when instructed or permitted.”

I had been tricked? But… why? I wanted to ask, but I held my tongue, not wishing to worsen whatever fate Lady Trigg had in store for me.

“You may wonder why I baited out a response from you,” she said, accurately. “Tricks such as this are mild compared to a royal house, and you will be expected to perform admirably, or consequences will be most dire. You see, pet, I only have your best interests at heart.”

Her cruel smile failed to carry any warmth.

I nodded all the same though, not wanting to upset her. I would need to be wary. I should have already been wary. I should have never followed that mothersworn Muleater.

“Next, likely obvious, but perhaps not. Kneel when royalty arrives, rise only when permitted explicitly, and never make unrequested eye contact. Never match gazes with your superior, unless it is forced by that very same superior. Even one such as you will know if that occurs..

I may have grimaced while looking up at her, realizing I had been matching gazes with her this entire time. Did she count as royalty?

“Ten lashes. I hope you’re keeping count, pet.”

I suppose she did. Unfortunately. I averted my gaze towards the floor. Lady Trigg was reminding me far to much of-

She let herself down from the post, landing gracefully, despite her skirts. She sauntered around me, almost daring me to glance her way. And indeed, I did watch her, but from a downturned face, and from the corner of my eye. How could I not?

She arrived at the trunk, and pulled the very same riding crop that Princess Marissa had teased against me.

I wanted to groan.

A shiver ran through me. An unholy mixture of both self-loathing, and excitement, which left me feeling even more shame than before.

She snapped the riding crop against the side of my neck. It stung, but not overly much. My fur doing much to blunt the sharpness of it.

“Disrobe for your punishment, pet.”

I hesitated. Before, whenever the humans wanted me ‘disrobed,’ they would manually strip me of my possessions, unbearing my shame. I had never done so voluntarily. Would doing so make it better, or worse. I was uncertain.

“Now.”

The riding crop hit the same spot upon my neck, smarting just a little bit more.

Still undecided if it was better or worse, I obliged the command, allowing the silken robe to trail off my skin and land around my feet.

“Ten more lashes, for the delay.” A sharp sting arrived from the inside of my left thigh, my tail swished of its own volition, in its own protest, attempting to cover the angle from which the attack came.

“Now. While I enjoy my games, the same as Princess Marissa, it is important to know when we’re playing. Assume that we are not, and we shall tell you otherwise. Unless commanded to do so, never struggle. Never protest. You will be informed, otherwise.”

That left me cringing. Not that they wished my compliance, but what they expected me to inherently comply to. It left me sick.

Another sting, this time upon my right cheek. The lashes were better than vivisection by far. In fact, it could be argued that this was someone’s idea of a good time. But it was not mine. No, not, at, all.

She continued with her administrations, while expounding upon the rules. “Speaking of games. Escape is a game that must be initiated by your mistress. Though, I suppose, there are sometimes unspoken permissions…” she tapped the riding crop in her hand, over and over and then–thwap–struck my left side.

I bit back a yowl.

“Next up, Proper Grooming: You absolutely must take care of your appearance. A mangy pet is absolutely undesirable. It’s surprising that Her Highness saw through your mess at all, though always an eye for potential, that one… What this means? Not a hair out of place. Manicured nails. Conditioned. Proper facial care. Calisthenics.

“But do not fear, for this is a pampered life–”

Thwack! She struck my right side this time. Then my neck, then the base of my tail. A small whimper escaped.

“Rejoice at your fate. Foods for your coat will be given, and no expense will be spared to maintain your desirability. Though, from grooming, I must broach a perhaps unpleasant but necessary subject. Toilets.

Another strike, this time around the front, to my chest, landing on my bottommost left nipple. Another yelp.

“Ten more. It is rude to interrupt, pet.”

Oh, I was the rude one?! I began fantasizing of sinking my claws into Lady Trigg’s throat. Perhaps that would be game enough for her.

“But as for making water, or waste… it has been the better part of a day since you were recovered, and not once has it been observed, of you making a mess. And in fact, before the Lieutenant parted with us, she reported that she also had the same observations. Do I take this to mean that whatever Marks you have been given have blessed you with the inability to make waste?”

I caught myself before I answered. I held my tongue. Not even daring to nod.

“Answer.”

“Yes,” I said weakly. “I don’t need–”

“Ten more.”

For what?! I almost shouted.

“This is a blessing, I am sure. If your imagination cannot capture what a guaranteed clean exit provides, then I am sure Princess Marissa will delight in educating you. That finishes the immediate notables. Now, you are clearly Marked, and clearly, have some ability. What you have been put to use for in the past, and what you may do in the future, may overlap, or may not. Your primary role, however, will be providing entertainment.”

“Logistics. A personal groomer will be assigned for you. You will be expected to follow their instruction. If you are fortunate, they may escort you on guided walks through Her Highness’s estate. But this is in the future–”

She struck me again and again, often returning to a previous spot, and adding to the smarting bruise.

“-and for names–”

A horn blew from far away, splitting the air and leaving my ears laying flat against my skull.

The blows stopped landing, as Lady Trigg listened.

The horn blew thrice more, two short, and one long.

“An attack?” Lady Trigg said, more to herself than anything. “It appears the wyrkwik make their move then. Without the others here, I should supervise.”

She sighed as she pressed the crop against the top of my nose. “Never despair, pet. I shall return after this bothersome chore.”

She set the crop down upon the trunk and walked to the entry where she paused. I dared not look behind me, lest I ruined my chances, or encouraged further punishment. “And pet?” she asked. “Do not escape. Or do…” She trailed off with a wicked grin. “I could use entertainment myself, and Her Highness has granted me some degree of freedom with your training. Especially if you prove recalcitrant…” She licked her lips and left, chuckling like the sadist she was.

The horns blew again. The camp outside was rousing. Men were calling out, and Lady Trigg shouted orders. I thought I heard the Inquisitor’s voice as well.

If there was an attack, if the mucary were here, then this would be the perfect chance to escape. Or, I could wait and see and hope for a rescue–

No. I needed to take initiative.

These people were insane. I had to escape.

So, just as before, I untied my leash. I slipped the robe back on to cover my nakedness. I escaped out into the night, heading away from the sounds of battle.

This time, I refrained from seeking the key. I would have to hope that Emboru could help remove this collar.

Surely, there must be a way to remove it.

I hoped.