Utterly Mad

                                                                                                                               2. King's Court

A mere month later, Catnip found herself once again in the "Dungeon" of King's Court. The reason for her confinement had been her violent refusal to pleasure King's head of security. Again. In the last month since her appearance in the desert north of the Texas-Mexico border, she had been tricked, collared, enslaved, sold, and finally ended up here in the ever popular entertainment venue "King's Court." The King, the Court's owner, was a tall gaunt man with salt and pepper hair and an sour disposition. He had purchased Catnip for what her captor had thought a pittance, but what King himself believed to be far too much. Despite her unique appearance, he considered his acquisition "worthless goods." If the numerous scars hidden beneath her fur were not enough, Catnip had no skills in any of the areas of general housekeeping King preferred his slaves to have, and no skill whatever in the act of lovemaking, which she refused to do even for him. The only skill she seemed to have, was those of fabrication and mechanics. These skills he allowed her to excersize in order to bring in what little money such professions could bring in a city that required no mechanics and contained an overabundance of manufacturers. Overbearing and sometimes cruel he may have been, rich in the extreme to boot, but King was not a stupid man. Until his newest slave gave in and joined the brothel harem, she would earn her food in the only way she knew.

The head of security, a repugnant little man with heavy handed ways and who always kept his brown hair closely shaved, had taken a liking to the rat mechanic right away though. It had been him to suggest to King that it would be a good idea to obtain her. Catnip's brownish fur, angular muzzle, pointed ears, and jaunty kinks to her tail caught and held the head of securities attention. He imagined what it would be like, as he had with all the other girls he had convinced King to buy, to have that strange Misling's legs wrapped around his head. For three days he had gone to the slave yard and for four he hinted and hectored at King until he saw things his way. It hadn't been hard, the two had been friends since before the cataclysm. Doug Braison, that was his name, got what he wanted from King, but had not counted on the wild resistance he would come against later that night when he attempted to use Kings newest "piece of ass." She bit and scratched, actually drawing blood and keeping Braison beyond arms reach until he ordered her thrown in the "dungeon" out of frustration.