I’m Not Well: Part 1

I’m Not Well

Part 1

Two Bodies

“Do you know what I love about this country?” Al-Frado began.

“It is the emptiness. See out your window? Nothing, dirt and sand as far as the eye can see. And yet our ancestors fought the last great war here.”

“Yea.” I replied in the affirmative, transfixed on the barren nothingness that was the desert.

I was here on business of course. Because if I were to travel to far away lands on vacation I’d pick some snowy mountain were I can be far off from people like Al-Frado AND my editor(bastard) if I’m just going to be naming names, which I’m want to do when high. I’d taken the standard regime before boarding the aircraft of course, two shots in the arm and a couple of poppers for focus so ‘Al-Frado’ and his driver ‘El-Hauncho’ couldn’t throw me for a loop and take my stash.

More curious was the security that sat beside me. She wore a tan cloak, an assault rife, and maybe 20 or so scars? I don’t know, cloak pretty much covered everything, even that tail of hers.

Ah yes, the infamous “Sandies”, remember them! One of the worst fish out of water situations turned into a nightmare military unit that despite having a high success rate did jack-didly for the war effort.

So every once in a while you’ll come across these Kitsune here sporting these cloaks and rifles, and it got me to wondering, what the hell do they wear under it? I saw the combat boots and black tights, but maybe they just wear a black skin suit under it all. Ahh, I shouldn’t be thinkin’ about those kind of things. This one looked to be about 16 or so. I’m only 23 myself, but people tell me with this silver hair of mine I already look 50.

“See something you like old man?” Al-Frado said with a wide grin.

“Hi asshole, she has a gun. How about not putting me into a position to be shot at?” I said turning away.

The girl didn’t seem to take any notice, keeping her slit eyes on the landscape, thank God.

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that, we hired her! Desert foxes do their jobs you know. Shit that reminds me, Katiya, I’m giving you over to this man.”

“News agency didn’t say anything about a body guard.”

“Oh don’t think of her as that twiddly thumbs. Think of her as a guide, a living encyclopedia of the desert.”

I looked back to the girl and saw her staring back at me with those definite, straight, fear-inducing slits. I look into the depths of fear and flinched in my soul while the drugs held my body. She merely nodded at me and returned her gaze to the road.

Even though the drugs I could tell she wasn’t human.

When we finally arrived at a settlement Al-Frado threw a bag at me, pointed to the desert, and told me to get walking. His brown ass got out of there pretty quickly giving me the impression there was some trouble with the law there. I don’t typically hold that against most people in my profession, journalists gotta stay un-biased after all. Yet, hiring what was essentially a child solider? Nah, that just rolled me a bit raw.

“Sir.” She said to me sharply with a voice that cut like knives. I gave her my undevided attention.

“While I am in your service I have three rules. 1. you will do what I ask of you. 2. you are not to have relations. 3. you will pay me for my services. Is that all clear?”

“Wow,wow,wow. Listen I was told my travel expense were paid, did Al-Frado not cover your fees?”

“Al-Frado has given the contract to you and you have accepted it. Therefore you are to provide payment.”

“And what would that be?”

“Payment is decided at the beginning of the contract and will only be discussed at it’s end.”

“And that’s until I have enough for the article yea, but listen here is this is some ‘entrapment’ sort of scheme-”

“Excuse me?” She said a sudden fire in her eyes to give with her dagger like voice.”

“Look don’t give me that, I ain’t no kiddy-didler and this isn’t my first time in foreign lands so I know the score. Fact is I’m not going to be paying with my body. Correct?”

“Yes.” She replied turning away. “Most certainly not.”

“Good. Now are we renting a Jeep or something because otherwise were trekking it right?”

“No Jeep.”

The expanse of the desert really doesn’t set in until about the 10th mile or so and it’s vast emptiness only served to highlight the ever more apparent curves on this Kitsune. That all to conservative cloak was actually seeming more erotic by the minute as her body swayed side to side in constant pace, the cloak hugging it in all the right places. Giving more credence to the whole black skin suit theory. The worse part was that tail of hers. Every time I could finally break my stare from her body the tail would come out just in my corner of vision and drag my eyes back to her rump. Probably because a drug-addled man is attracted to such fluffy looking objects.

Some light conversation may ease the tension.

“Hey can I ask you some questions? It’s for my work and all that.” I tried to say without sounding creepy or obnoxious.

“You own the contract. Do as you please.” Oh please don’t bait my imagination like that foxy girl.

“So how long have you been doing this?”

“Two years.” She replied curtly.

“So you started at what, 14 years old?”

“I’m 14 now.”

This just keeps getting worse and worse from all ethical angles.

“Did you fall into this line of work, or is it more of a family business?”

“The tribe maintains several agents to do business with foreigners.”

Hmm. She may only be 14, but she was a rock. In my line of work woman usually open up when I ask about themselves, their situation, or their families. Time for a new approach.

“So does that piece of yours see any action?”

“The desert does not see many engagements. The natural order is quiet and evasive, as are it’s winners.” A poet if I ever did know. Or she’s just spitting out her father’s talk.

“Have you killed anyone?”

“A few ferals whilst escorting a particular troublesome client.”

“Oh so I take it ferals are more of an occupational hazard than thieves?”

“The only thieves here after the war wore white collars.”

Really just the toughest of nuts. Despite the distance form her home, Katya talked as if she was a dignitary fresh out of Kitsune manner school. No doubt this was quickly turning into a reverse interview, with Katya baiting my questions. Well Foxy girl I’m afraid I’ll have to ignore the bait and just stare at your tail for another couple of hours.

“Where’s my tent Al-Frado?!” I yelled while shifting though my bag.

We’d made it to one of Katya’s local haunts(A lovely rock formation) and were planning to spend the night. This would be fine if the drugs hadn’t began to sour in my body and my tolerances dropped to zero.

“He did not pack one.” Katya said as she pounded her last tent stake into the ground.

“So what, did he pack it with you?”

“Yes, I have the tent.”

Well that made no sense if you had the tent why not oh hold on just a tick.

The tent.





“Do you have ‘the’ sleeping bag.”

“Of course.”

I looked over and saw her shred the light brown cloak to reveal exactly what I was expecting. 100 or so pounds of toned underage body wrapped in a skin tight black suit.

“Katya, may I speak frankly?”

“I would prefer you did.”

“Would you say I’m old enough to be your father?”

She tilted her head to one side, flicking her ears for a moment, and then turned it to the other.

“No.” She answered.

“And am I young enough to be your son.”

Katya repeated the gesture, but this time only tilting her head to one side.

“No.” She answered sounding just a touch confused.

“And would you say your a young adult?”

Again, but three times, and with more rapid ear flicking, but with the same blank expression.


“Now when a man and a young woman sleep in close proximity certain things tend to happen right?”

“Of course.” She replied this time with no pause. Was she genuinely this dumb or was she trying to act cute?

“Then how is this sleeping situation okay?!”

“Ah, you are not used to sharing a bed with a woman.”

“Now see here-”

“It is not for any purposes of entrapment, dear client. Deeper in the desert where you would travel there are several ferals. The desperate kind who will attack any single man for a chance at a mate. In the desert the main way they determine who is single and who is not is scent, scents that a kitsune’s tail emits when she is sleeping.”

“Couldn’t we have two sleeping bags and you just slip your tail in mine or something?”

“Do you want to carry two sleeping bags? Maybe you’d like to walk 15 miles back to that town to buy another one and walk another 15 back here?”

“No it’s fine.” I say, absolutely defeated by this kid’s bullet proof logic.

“Get in, we’ll be heading out early tomorrow so we need to begin sleeping now.”

I took a deep breath and stayed my heart. Wearing nothing but a wife beater and my undergarments(So the scent would be deep), I slipped into THE sleeping bag with my young escort and tried to evoke the calm only drugs could give me.

When I was completely submerged in the thing Katya wrapped herself around me, hands, legs, tail, she even nestled her head into my chest. For a small moment I felt a warmth in my body. I’d not had a woman embrace me so recklessly before and the embraces I have had didn’t feel so calculated, so sure. Her legs had wormed between mine, her arms wrapped around my chest so her head sank deeply into it, and her tail snaked it’s way up between my legs to wrap it’s tip lightly around my neck.

If only to make matters worse I felt a slight tickle as her ears flicked at my chin.

“Can you give me a little space?” I asked quietly.

It was no good. Soon I heard quiet coos leave her body as it took in oxygen and pressed a little harder against me. It was to my great luck that my manhood was the one part of my body left untouched by her, thus saving us both a tad bit of awkwardness.

And I was left no recourse. I squirmed a little and as I did she would tighten her grip uncousinly.

I felt more agonized than any bad trip, more paranoid than any aftermath, and all I could do is try to not dream of this weird reality where a young-old man like me gets dropped in the desert by two brown asses and sleeps with a cut up 14 year old fox in the middle of a barren wasteland.

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One thought on “I’m Not Well: Part 1

  1. Haha jesus. This guy’s more rock steady than Hunter. He must’ve dipped into his stash to be able to deal with that right? Just having an armed guard sprung on you could sour a high. Even I’d be too stressed to sleep; because A) theres a fucking 14 year old suddenly cuddling me whilst I’m on a comedown, and B) I’ll be expecting a camera crew and Chris Hansen to pop up any second.

    Are some Lizard people gunna turn up?

    Enjoying this. Iffy on if they fuck, but its not like there weren’t half crazed nymphettes in F&LiLV.

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