Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
I ignore that and gesture at my nudity. "I need fresh clothes when you get a chance."
She cocks her weird little human head. Strange how they have so much fur on the back of their head and none at the front. "Excuse me, what part of 'no' did you not understand?"
I understood it, all right. I just refuse to acknowledge it. I eye my claws, wondering how long before they start to look sharp and unmanicured. "I need a bath, too. Not too hot with the water, but not too cold, either. Just warm enough to be pleasant. And I'll need some sort of mane detangler." Now that I think about it, I wonder if I even had mane detangler in my thirty-odd missing trunks. I'd foolishly assumed that this planet would be civilized, but if I have to judge by her mane, the facilities are very backward here.
Would it look suspicious if I ordered a crate or two of the best brand for praxiian mane detangler? Probably. Kef, how am I going to survive with a frizzy coat? The thought fills me with despair.
"Uh, hello." She snaps her fingers at me. "I'm not doing any of that."
"Any of what?" I give her a lazy look and roll onto my stomach. Crossing my arms under my chin, I stare at the wall. Even it looks pathetically run down and miserable. Is this my life now? This hovel and a servant who pretends like she can't be bought?
"I'm not drawing you a bath or getting you clothes!"
I shrug. "Then I will just lie here, naked, until you do."
She sputters.
I wait for more of her protests, but she says nothing. Silence is far more suspicious than anything else, so I glance over at her and see she's still in the room, her hands on her hips, her face drawn up in what I can only assume is either constipation or frustration.
"I don't know what to do with you," she admits.
"You can draw me a bath, just like I explained."
"I could smother you with a pillow."
"First of all, no you could not. Your arms are like puny twigs." I roll onto my back again, and I notice her gaze goes back to my cock. It's always gratifying to see female attention drift there. Not only was I blessed with my position in life, but I was also blessed with a large, thick cock and it always draws the females in. "And second of all, we're working together, remember?"
"You have a funny idea of working together. It sounds like you expect me to work for you, not with you."
That's exactly what I expect. I only smile at her, because she's like a cub getting its first taste of independence. She's spitting at me, determined to get her way. From her standpoint she is fierce and strong...and from mine, she is a kitten making ridiculous tiny noises and thinking she is full-grown. It's surprisingly adorable.
Meev flicks a hand at me. "Come on. Get out of my bed. You're rubbing your balls all over my sheets."
"Is my bath ready? I'll get up when it's ready."
Her jaw clenches. "For the millionth time, I'm not making you a bath, and I want you out of my bed."
"There's room here for you to join me." Is that what she's angling towards? I don't know humans well enough to judge their demeanor. Everyone I've met that has owned one has described them as positively cock-hungry. Is that the situation here? It's impossible to tell with Meev.
Her expression is downright appalled. "I'm not getting in bed with you! You're still naked!"
Not cock-hungry, then. At least, not yet. "So I am. I'm also filthy from my travels, but someone has yet to draw my bath."
"Oh my god, I hate you." She presses her hands to her forehead, as if her brain is going to erupt from its confines. "Why are you like this?"
"Naked?"
She makes a sound that might be a bellow of frustration and throws her hands in the air as she turns and leaves.
Huh.
I stare up at the ceiling, wondering where my thirty trunks are. I'm not sure Zebah took them. My clothes are bespoke and wouldn't fit a mesakkah female, and they'd be hard to resell in the black market without people asking questions. And did I pack any mane conditioner? Surely there are other praxiians here. I heard a rumor that there was a praxiian gladiator living in hiding on Risda, and that he was friends with Lord va'Rin. Perhaps I can find him and ask what he uses to keep his mane soft.
Living on this planet is going to be more work than I anticipated. Just keeping myself groomed is going to be an ordeal, I can tell already.
Meev storms back into the room. "You swear to me that these cat things are legit?"