Beyond The Pale (M/M)
Beyond the Pale
by H. A. Kirsch
Copyright 2008.
Note: I am a native speaker of English. However, the narrator is not.
Warning: This story contains gay sex. Surprise!
--
When I was eleven years old, I became very ill. By the time I was thirteen, I turned into a cat.
This is not fairy tale, there was no magic wand or anything. There was pain. There was so much pain
I do not remember. Maybe that is why I am broken now, collection of pieces that reflect the picture
of a cougar and man and sex and peculiar destruction.
Other hybrids, they are born into their bodies, and their minds. I was forced in, after already
having a body and a mind. This is not the same thing, and I will never be like them. I am a cat and
a person at same time, and they fight to see out through my eyes. When I was young, I had no control
of this, and I got into trouble all of the time. My parents adopted me because they wanted to do
good, but they were idiots. My real parents, somewhere in Poland, probably poor and addicted to
things and crying to sleep each night because their son was taken by American government and
hospitals and turned into a cat.
By sixteen, I would fight a lot, and did not take direction, hissing at people and claws out against
them. I had to go home alone after school and half of the time, I never made it to home before a
problem would come up to me and I would arch my back at it, spit and bite and fix it. Then
counselors found me job to do, for some money and to improve my discipline. There was YMCA near my
home, and they made me work as janitor, made me sleep in an empty lodging room for poor people and
do schoolwork, then work at night after closing.
It was not that bad, somehow I did not care about disgusting things, when drunk people would stagger
in and throw up or someone would piss and shit on the floor in the bathroom to be asshole. The thing
I minded was smell, the human stink, it was mostly humans who went there and it was acid and hot
butter and come and fish and rotting sweat. I did not like to clean the machines, I cleaned hallway
and stairway but not the machines with filthy human stink burned into vinyl pad and metal.
Another janitor did that, he was hyena, a spotted brute in overalls and heavy boots. There was
something wrong with him, I did not notice at first, because I did not talk to strangers back then.
Other employees made fun of him, but hyena just looked and looked away, maybe he made a grunt. For
months I watched this, and started to feel bad, he never talked to anyone, never had anyone to sit
with and eat a snack, always just carried his bottle of blue liquid and cleaned off all that
skin-stink after patrons left.
It was a while before I really noticed that his head was broken. The hyena - no one ever used his
name but his badge said, "Pete" - had a terrible scar. I thought it was fur pattern until I looked
closely, it was an uneven square. I asked someone at the office, and they said that he had some sort
of accident or a tumor. Doctors cut off part of his skull and did things and put it back. Maybe they
took out the part that makes you talk. I heard this Pete mumble sometimes, but it was like when you
go to swear and do not want anyone to hear.
Pete would not take his breaks anywhere I could see. I would stand wherever and eat something, maybe
some meat sandwich while some other janitors made funny looks. I was not good at eating then and
made a mess, but I was supposed to clean up everything so who cared about mess? It was months before
I found where he went. He did not eat at work. Maybe the smell made him sick, or maybe he made more
mess than this angry cougar. He was not stupid, I do not think, but sometimes he would stop where he
was going and look funny, maybe sit down for a few minutes, then pull out a pad of paper with
scribbles on it and then stomp off.
I was using bathroom, I would just piss into a shower and then run it because I wanted to piss on
walls but did not want trouble. I turned to see Pete go by, stomping his boots on the tile. I
finished pissing and looked around corner; he was gone. There was nowhere to go, it was dead-end
into bathroom stalls. He would have to come by me. There was utility door, and I went over to it. I
could smell him there. The door was not closed all the way, some air from ventilation pushed it out,
and it stank of strange smells, sex and maybe rubber. And the sounds, heavy breathing and a rhythmic
fleshy sound. I lashed my tail, Pete was doing something filthy! I opened the door and he did not
even move. It was utility room for plumbing, some machinery, a cart with tools on it, and hyena
standing there touching himself. He faced away and something was strapped to his head.
It was a minute or two before he turned to look at me. I stood there, just watching, since I like to
stare and he did not notice. Pete sees me and his head comes around and all of my fur stuck out. He
has on a mask, some kind of painting respirator that covers his muzzle, with a long hose dangling
off, the source of all those heavy huffing sounds. His eyes are behind... maybe welding goggles? His
hand stops touching himself and I see it, covered in a heavy rubber glove - like you use with acid -
and slippery with his own lubrication. He turns to see me and I cannot see his eyes, and his face
is under that rubber, his headfur is unkempt like he has been rubbing his messy hand into it. I
hissed and my tail fluffed out and I backed right up and shut the door.
I left work right then, I tell them that I was sick and ate something bad, and someone laughed until
I threw up onto him. It is so easy for cat to throw up food. I got the night off and ran home and
hid in my bedroom. I could not sleep, and had to listen to my 'father' snore through the wall. In my
head as I lay there in bed, I saw that mask, no expression on hyena's face. It brought up something
from my head, a memory, but not picture. When they made me a cat, I forget everything and doctors
put pieces back in. Memories of things are like watching a film, or like feeling with no words or
picture. This one scared me, made me cower in bed and fluff out my fur, but when it faded to
nothing, I was so hard under sheets.
The next time I saw Pete at work, he was same as always. I worried that he would do something to me,
but he just did his work, cleaning the human-stink from machines while I mopped floor and stair. I
went to piss again after break, and halfway through spraying the shower wall, it was so hard I could
not piss any more. I looked out of corner of my eye for him. Somehow I missed him, only seeing bit
of tail as he went past. I waited, no more piss coming, too hard. Then I went to the utility room
door. I did not open it this time.
Air blew from inside, heat from steam pipes, it brought his smell. The stink of sex and sweat and
musk. A stench like the workout-room, but it was not foul to me, I was lost in it. I must have been
like housecat sniffing at a new human, nose pointed, muzzle open. The smell went through me like
warmth and wet tingle. Then I put ear to crack. Hyena groaned and grunted, voice distorted by that
mask. I imagined it, and cold water poured down my spine. I heard the slap of rubber glove against
arm, wetter and wetter as his precum wetted his hand.
Hyena was so fucking loud, how did I not hear this before? Heavy, ragged inhales and huffs through
that mask, groans and snorts, the sound escalating. All of a sudden, the huffing stopped, replaced
with muffled sound, like when someone grabs over mouth. Gurgle and choking, harder and harder rubber
sounds, then a faint splat. Oh fuck. I pissed all over the door, terrified enough to go soft and let
it out, using instinct to replace hyena smell with mine. Then I stuffed away and ran off to do work.
I could not think of school. I tried sometimes, only when in shop or art when I had to make things,
or in English. I am not so good at English but I wrote strange things and the teacher liked that it
was not same old shit. That week I could not think of anything, all I thought of was hyena, gloved
hand and that mask, the fucking god-damn mask. I tried to draw it, then when I thought someone
looked, I shredded paper. Hyena would not have same shift as me until monday, and it was hard, so
hard, all the time.
At first I did not like touching myself. I thought I was ugly, I was monster, cat-man, it didn't
matter if there were so many others. I hated it. My cock was ugly, uncut so much that the skin
dangled over tip, but pointed and strange and with nubs around glans-ridge. It is not small, which
is good, but I would not touch it for years. I would fuck pillows, chewing and leaving teeth-marks
on bedframe. But hyena, he made me touch myself. I felt so bad, feeling my own flesh spurt and
throb, that it only made me come harder. I had not thought of sex until then, it had just been
something in my head, that I had to squeeze out. Now it was something I thought about, and the
thoughts never stopped, I could not control them.
I would excuse myself at school and jack off in the toilet, it was easy to excuse myself as I had
stomach problems as teenager, some effect of cat transformation and poor American bullshit diet. It
was so bad, cock so hard in my jeans, so hard to hide, leaving a wet-spot all of the time, same
thing in mind over and over and over. Hyena.
I was thinking of this at work as I took piss-break, and started to touch myself. Maybe it would be
okay, if I came I would stop thinking, and who would see? No one was ever in far back locker room at
night. Somehow I did not realize there was one person who would come by, the fucking Hyena. He snuck
up on me, as I touched myself, piss-wet cock in hand, about to come. Hand grabbed me and I hissed
and went soft and nearly took his face off. He did not startle, he just leaned back, then patted me
on shoulder and stepped away. I put my dick away, ears hot. The hyena backed up, then slowly went
around the corner. He paused, then leaned around it, grunting and knocking head to side to beckon
me. Oh shit, oh shit.
Hyena opened the door to utility room and waved me in. I stepped in, tail fluffed, ears back. The
smell, the stink of come and rubber and cleaning solution and wet from steam pipes. Hyena came in
after me and then backed up, shutting the door with a thump and click. At first, I thought he would
touch me, and I cowered back into corner, hissing when I touched hot metal. Hyena did not touch me.
He stood there and unlocked small safe box, then took out things. Black rubber chemical gloves,
almost up to his elbows. I stared at them, gleaming surface marred with streaks of mess from how
many times? Then welding goggles, round and black. Seeing his eyes disappear was better, because he
was not looking at me, he was just there, a figure now.
The mask... heavy black rubber muzzle-cup, with rubber hose off from one side to some metal fitting,
some valve at nose. Gloved hands strapped it on while I stared, now hyena was monster. He breathed
and it was low huff in mask, air wooshing out valve, sucking in hose. A hard breath made something
flutter in the hose, a strange farting rattle. I watched those hands touch at his crotch, start to
unbutton the fly in his overalls, rubber cuffs waggling. Then he came out. Most hybrids have human
cocks, except dogs, and me. He had thick human one, fat and uncut, flesh over the wet head, balls
tight to the base. Black fingers started to touch it, smooth skin back and forth, and he groaned
into the mask.
Soon Hyena was pumping hard, wet slap of skin and rubber, glistening precum bubbling out of thick
cockhead. His other hand felt his balls, then grabbed at the mask, stroking its shape. I was not so
scared all of a sudden, it was pathetic and amusing, he was not unknown, he was sick in the head. He
stroked the hose down to the end, deep grunts coming out the air valve, huffs through the hose. He
lifted it up, then mashed the air hole against the side of his mask. He huffed out, then grunted and
struggled, hand near beating his sticky cock. Hyena choked and gurgled, short 'unnh!' sounds barking
out of the mask as he had no air, and then come. White shot out, big splat landing on my motorcycle
boot, the rest splattering to the floor as he snorted and choked. Then he let the hose down, hand
dripping with come, breathing hard. He slowly stepped to the side, exposing the door. I grabbed for
it and ran out, then tucked into stall to wipe off my boot with tissue.
The next day, I went into utility room as soon as I went on break. I had to piss, so I used the
floor drain, then I waited. I needed to have hyena come in and do things for me to watch. My life
revolved around seeing that, the idea, the possibilities. It was never like that before, all of a
sudden I was obsessed and it hurt, it hurt inside the way it did to keep stroking after all the come
is out.
I was done and trying to get into the lockbox where Hyena kept his toys, when I heard boots coming.
I froze, my hackles went up. I did not look meek, I wore black leather motorcycle jacket, black
jeans, motorcycle boots. I put on jacket when I went on break, took it off to work, the other
employees stared at me but I didn't care. I cared, but not that kind of caring. But when Hyena came
into the room, I was scared and almost pissed more into my pants.
The hyena came in and pushed the door shut. I thought he was mad that I was trying to get into his
box, but he ignored that completely. Instead, he pushed me over against wall and crouched down.
Hyena's thick muzzle went to my boot, sniffing at the right foot, then starting to lick like a dog.
Hyena was not quiet about it; he groaned and slurped.
"What the fuck?" I said, and moved my boot away. I stared down at the splotch of spit. The hyena
reached out to wipe at it with his shaggy wrist. Then I remembered, it was where he came on me. He
stood up, then grabbed me by the coat lapels and pushed me against the wall. "No, fuck, get off..."
He was not going to do something terrible, his hands just felt at leather, then he leaned in and did
the same thing to my jacket collar, a lick and groan. This time, he rubbed spit off with face-fur.
Hyena looked up at me, and I thought he would kiss me, I recoiled my head away. It did not bother
him, he just stared at me with strange yellow eyes for a moment, then stepped back. He took out
keys, then opened the box. Out came gloves, but the mask stayed, sitting in the box with hose coiled
like snake. I could not stop looking at it, until Hyena grunted.
He pulled on one of the long, heavy gloves, one hand gripping the cuff as the other punched up into
it, then made a fist with creak of rubber. Then the next, hands flexing under stained, mottled
rubber. I stare at them, his hands, big in the gloves. Then he starts to touch me, grabbing at coat
again, then down, then down... rubber fingers tug at my fly, pull the button open, then the next,
until it is open. I swear something, but it is Polish and you would not understand. I am against
the wall, so scared and wired, I stare at his black hands as they touch my flesh, bring it out.
Hyena does not think it is disgusting, he plays with it, fingers sliding foreskin back and forth,
teasing at the head.. that hurts, it is so sensitive, but I cannot move and only stare at him. Other
hand holds my balls, and that makes me more scared, he is very strong and sure. He stands, thigh
against me, staring at me in the face, then staring at his hands. He is so forceful but it is not
heavy and hard, rubber pulling my foreskin, stroking over dickhead as slime comes out. It is too
much, I cry and hiss, I don't know if I come this way it is so intense. I smell his breath huff into
my face, strong and rank, like wet meat. I feel something inside, it is such strange feeling, I am
full of something, I am full and lost and coming! I shoot onto rubber, so startled I do not make
noise, gloved hands not stopping, wet slaps. Finally I push him off and he stands there, looking at
his wet hands. Maybe there is little smile.
I do not go soft. I am a cat, I can repeat. He starts to take his cock out, pulling thick flesh out
of his pants. He teases and touches it, fat and swollen, skin rolling over thick head. He lets go of
his cock, points to mine.
"I am not done, I guess," I stutter. "It is cat thing." I am very quiet, someone could be outside.
Hyena grunts, taps at his cock. I reach out a hand, touch it. Warm, and the skin moves so easy, like
it is alive. It is uncut like mine, but touching is not the same, I feel nothing when I touch it,
so it is just flesh and warmth, surreal. Hyena groans, a little drool comes to a lip that he licks
off.
Then he tapped at his lips with come-wet gloved finger. "What? I do not... kiss you," I said, hand
still on his cock. He shook his head, made a lick into the air. "Unngh, no, I do not..." I backed
against the wall, stared at Hyena's engorged dick. He stepped forward. I stared. I don't know what
would happen, so slowly I sank down. It pushed towards my face, closer and closer. It stank, sour
and hot, like sweat and hot butter and salt. Thick glans pushed at my lips, and I twisted head to
side, then licked myself. Salt and a little sour, the taste of meat. I cannot suck, mouth does not
let me, but I lick at it, and Hyena groans hard, knees shaking. Cat tongue is rough. I lick over his
foreskin, slide it back, and I am drooling so much. I feel a little sick, that makes drool, and soon
his dick is covered in spit. I try to push tongue along the underside, but gloved hand pushes on my
face, smearing my own come to it. I am so filthy, my ears are pinned to my head.
Hyena grabs my jacket and pulls me up, but he does not move face to face. He turns me, gloved hands
coming around my front, stroking at black leather. He smears come onto it and I growl, I do not want
to be a mess at work! He steps me forward, against this cart that is always in utility room, tool
cart for fixing pipes and wires. His gloves pull at fly buttons, shove in against fur, he's pushing
my pants down! My tail lashes and hits him, thumping at his legs, hips. "What? What are you doing?"
Glove rubber slides down my ass, and I heave up onto toes, thighs flexing, back arching. Oh fuck. He
fools around with tailbase, then pushes jeans down further, and I am lifting my ass like a queen! I
cannot help it, it makes me dizzy, I want so hard that I am terrorized, Hyena is going to fuck me!
I hold onto cart hard, so hard my knuckles hurt.
Hyena is taking a long time, so I look back, and fuck! He has toy box open, the mask is coming out
in his hands, snake-hose coiling and spilling over rubber, muzzle-cup lifted to his head,
disappearing his real snout into black rubber. The helpless thrill of being touched at rump and
lower back is gone, and now I am so scared. Hyena takes goggles and puts them on, then starts to tug
and squeeze at his dick. He has to pull my tail out of way, which is hard, he makes a few grunts.
Then he is touching the base and my lower back, gloved fingers stroking at the spine up under my
coat, asshole knows that cats are excited there! I push back, chest shoved to the cart, purring so
hard - I am so scared, cats purr when they die too! - and then his dick touches me.
I have fingered myself, and it was tight, and it hurt, but when I did it I came hard. This was not a
finger, this was... it was someone else, and it was huge, it hurt. It hurt and hurt and I ached
inside, I rrrrowrled and hissed and chewed on edge of the cart. There was nothing but cock and my
asshole, huge hyena pushing in, filling me with pain... filling me. He holds my jacket by collar,
gloves hunched at leather, pulling on me as he goes deeper, body rocks against mine, into mine. The
pain is a hard burn, but the ache is slowly gone, if I make like I am to shit his cock out.
He leans over me, close down to my back, head next to mine... I feel that mask, smell the stink of
rubber, the hose lies across back of my neck. I hear him huff hard, hot breath spraying out air vent
onto me. I hear his gloves squeak, boots creak and thump as he lifts off heels then comes down
again. Hyena is not too rough, he is a man and pushes and bucks, but it is not violent and deep like
in videos. Maybe he even just moves in his foreskin, I cannot tell, I am just full, helpless and
held as a toy, a purring toy for him.
Then I come! I feel it growing, like I have to piss, then my pulse is hard, and I'm shooting, and it
makes me scream as it sprays onto side of cart. With his cock inside, it is so different, it is
pain that I want, I cannot squeeze my asshole because cock is in the way. His gloved hands grab over
my muzzle, the sound cut off after a second, I am being smothered by him!
Then the hands are sliding away, petting my face. Hyena is still pushing in me, still penetrating.
Hands drop down, reach for something in the cart's insides. I am dizzy, I am spent and aching, but
my mouth hangs open, drool comes out as it is still good to be full. Hyena is distracted, and he
slides out, grunts. I turn my head to see what is the matter, and black thing comes towards my
muzzle. It is another mask! This is regular painting mask, with two round air-filters at the sides.
It stuffs onto my snout, and he ties it behind my head.
It is not same with it on me, I am not so scared, I hear my breathing turned dark and loud, rubber
surrounding. I like this. No, I like it because he is touching my back again, I am presenting to
him, and then he is inside again. This time I do not care, because suddenly it is hard to breathe. I
do not see why, I am too busy being split apart, then I start to panic. It is not the mask, he is
holding the air filters covered with glove rubber! I clutch at his hands, try to pull them away.
Asshole aches, I am getting tight, tight, tight!! I thrash and pull and twist, and he is breathing
so hard, valve in mask flutters as he snorts out. Then I hear Hyena grunt and slobber and gag as he
climaxes, and it is inside me, inside my asshole, his come is inside me.
I do not know what happened next, I rip off mask and run out of there. I think I get my pants back
up before I leave YMCA, I see coworkers staring at me as I rush out, maybe there is come all over
me? I remember next that I am at home, sitting on the toilet, and I shit out big gouts of white come
from my ass, I wipe myself and there is come all over the paper, white and slick, and I want to
faint.
No one ever said anything at work, no one talked to me after that except to tell me what to do.
Hyena did not come back, and no one ever said why. He just did not come to work again, and did not
come again, and finally there was someone to replace him. It was a tiger who would get high out
behind dumpster on break. I did not care, he cleaned the human-stink from machines like Hyena did,
and this tiger mumbled about his girl all the time. He was not faggot like Hyena was.
That moment, in the bathroom, when I see his come out of my asshole, it was a split. It was the
crack between life and more life, like when I became cougar. I was never the same, I was haunted for
my life, echoes of that mask on my face, and I could not breathe, and his huffing, and violating me,
and coming helpless, it was there, is there, will be there, forever.