Tiger Cage

So the guard and the tiger walked me out of the room and down to the security office. The tiger strode close behind me. From the corner of my eye I could see him watching me, his nostrils flaring. He seemed disappointed that he wasn’t going to get to eat me after all.

Then they took me down to my room. As prisons went, it wasn’t bad. It had comfortable-looking furniture, a very soft and luxurious mattress, and a fully-stocked media center. There was even a computer, and a laptop I could use to surf the net from in bed. For a moment I entertained the thought of emailing the police that I’d been kidnapped—but I knew better. Even if I weren’t “property” as long as I was wearing Nadia, I had no doubt that my new “owner” had enough influence to shrug off any law-enforcement investigation. I was stuck here, for the moment.

As I settled onto the sofa and got ready to watch some TV, there was a knock on the door. When I went to open it, I was entirely unsurprised to find the tiger there, watching me.

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