Picking up the leash he gently reaches toward me. I don’t like the leash, not until I am ready for it. Some animals do, some animals prefer their o...ners to leash them, but I am a fox, not a dog, or a pony. I am a fox; leashes only suit us when they suit us. It takes a few moments for him to realize what I am looking at, but when he does, he smiles and tosses the leash on the sofa behind him. “Oh, is that better?” I lick the back of my wrist and rub behind my left ear. My breasts, almost. The gold inlay on the platform gleams in the heavy candle light. The hardwood platform holds up what looks like a gold painted throne.The thing that gets my attention is the man sitting on the throne. He is short. Even with the throne to prop him up his feet dangle down like a child's. He has rich brown hair and a good complexion. He eyes are a watery blue. What really draws me is the amount of jewelry he is wearing. He must have gobs and gobs of gold chains around his neck, rings on every. More

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