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pups love to lay on top of him and snuggle
into his fur, and Kena is as attentive to him as she is to the others. She
loves her kitty, don't you, girl?" Alex asked the nursing mastiff. He received
a return tail wag.
    "You sound like a proud
papa. She certainly looks content," Jack said, gesturing to the dog
sleeping in the nesting box in the corner of the office, with her puppies and
Rodin snuggled against her warm tummy.
    "I have to give Kena
all the credit. She fell in love with Misha the minute they met. Hell, Kena
even sat on the kid. And drooled. A lot."
    "Oh yeah, I forgot
about the dog spit. Misha doesn't mind it?"
    "Not at all. She didn't
even blink when she asked for a spit rag."
    "She has some flaws,
but I'm telling you, Alex; this girl is a keeper."
    "I'm doing what I can
to make that happen. I have a bunch of calls to make, starting with my attorney
to go after that jerk."
    "Have you told her
about your little quirks?" Jack winked.
    "Don't you have some
work to do?" Alex asked, pointing to the door.
    Jack saluted teasingly and
departed after patting the happy Kena on her massive head. Kena rose, waddled
over to Alex and placed her paw on his thigh. Alex scratched her behind the
ear.
    "You're a good
girl," he praised. "Let's find out a bit about your kitty's namesake.
Maybe we can plan a surprise for Misha."
    Alex turned on his computer
and typed 'Rodin'. He was not much of an art lover, but what he saw both
surprised and enticed him. Her favorite artist? The works were oozing with
pure, raw sexuality and bold images of female submission. Was this a covert
proclamation to her secret desires? He felt his cock twitch as he skimmed
through the images, studying each with interest. Hmm, he would have guessed her
to be more keen on Picasso, or even something surreal like Dali, but this? He
wondered which piece was her favorite.
    Alex quickly chose one that
caught his own eye. The Danaid. The sculpture showed a beautiful woman, her
graceful, despairing figure mimicking the contours of her rocky bed as she
slumped over in tearful
frustration, with water streaming from her broken jar. Her face was unseen,
except for a peek at a glistening eye. Something about the piece bothered him.
He could not explain what it was that either disturbed or intrigued him about
it, but the image was burning itself into his mind. With a concentrated scowl ,
he read about the mythological inspiration. He felt an unusual ache in his
heart as the words jumped up from the page to proclaim that the woman depicted
was forever condemned to the underworld, and doomed to the futile task of
perpetually trying to fill the broken container. This was an eternal punishment
for murdering her bridegroom on her wedding night.
    "That was a little
extreme," Alex commented to the attentive Kena. "She has a lovely
bottom. A good spanking would have sufficed." Kena tilted her head and
made a questioning sound in her throat. "Okay, maybe not just a spanking.
She did kill off her husband. But we don't know what type of jerk he was."
    Alex tapped his finger on the desk, thinking about Misha. What he would give to see
his beautiful little roommate place herself into that kind of flowing and
graceful submission before him! His manhood began to rise. She would be magnificent,
of that he had no doubt. He had never seen her without her safari pants, boots
and khaki shirt, but the feel of her body next to his when they hugged
suggested that she was both soft and firm. He clicked the tab to the purchase
page. Maybe he would treat her to a nice welcoming gift.

Chapter 5
     
    "So, I hear you moved,
Tiger," Jack commented through the enclosure gate, as Misha hand fed the
three adult Bengals. She ignored him, concentrating on her task. The cats had
only been there for six months after having been rescued from a zoo. They had
been living under foul and abusive conditions, and it had taken daily exposure
to her for them to finally allow her to enter the enclosure without