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Brimstone on the Boardwalk

Simon © Roureem

Story © Searska GreyRaven

The August heat lay heavy on the wind, despite the Westering sun. Only a Chicago summer could still feel so oppressive at such a late hour. Simon panted as he walked down the boardwalk of Navy Pier and dug into the pocket of his cargo shorts to find his wallet. A family of humans with a small girl in tow walked the other way, and Simon looked up in time to see the child smile at him. He waved back, and she tugged at her mother's arm in an effort to get closer.

"Kitty!" She squealed. Simon smiled, careful to keep his teeth behind his lips. Humans may bear their teeth in greeting, but when an anthro did so, the effect was quite the opposite.

The little girl's mother paused to see what was distracting her child, and noticed Simon waving. "Yes, big kitty. Come on sweetie, or we're going to miss the train."

Simon watched them go for a moment longer before the dryness of his throat forced him to move on. It was so strange to be in a city where hybrids were almost common enough to be a non-issue. In the South, some counties still had varmint laws on the books. Shooting a hybrid on sight was simply "hunting out of season." Simon sighed. Things were a-changing, but slowly. Chicago, while not exactly a bastion of justice, at least treated those of different "skin" with a little more respect. The mother's nonchalance in seeing a black panther/human hybrid was proof that, at least here, he wasn't so completely out of place.

Well, openly, anyway. But the other half of his heritage was strictly internal. If that mother only knew...Simon sighed. Ah, well, bliss and ignorance.

Strings of small white lights radiated outward from a bar at the furthest end of the dock, and Simon's pace increased. He still had enough cash on paw to keep himself comfortably buzzed for another evening, but a buzz wasn't what he needed. It had to do with that part of his heritage that no one ever saw, and only guessed well after the fact and it was too late to question him about it.

He sauntered up to the bar and ordered a beer. The bar was open to the air, with stools set up along it and an air of a seaside beer stand. A few short tables were set up closer to the water, illuminated by lanterns hanging from the wooden beams of a partial overhang. Simon sat, listening to the patrons while he waited, and had to resist the strong urge to down the entire bottle when it arrived. The humidity! Even with a breeze rolling off the lake, it still felt like breathing through a sponge. A really hot sponge. When did I end up in Miami? Simon wondered ruefully. At least Chicago lacked the distinct fishy seawater smell of the coast. Not that he would look terribly out of place in Miami tonight either. Between the Hawaiian shirt and his khaki cargoes, he looked just like a tourist.

The moon rose and a handful of stars managed to shoulder their way through the glare of the city when Simon noticed another hybrid making his way toward the bar. Simon blinked, unable to believe his eyes.

The hybrid was a gator, and a spectacularly muscled one. Not body-building muscle, but the lean frame of a professional swimmer. Thick armored scuts marched in twin lines down the gator's back, several of which were pierced with gold hoops. The boney ridge above his right eye sported a row of small gold hoops. His tail hissed softly as the gator made his way to the bar. He leaned against the counter, grinning and flirting with the bartender. She finally waved him off with a laugh. Simon couldn't make out most of the conversation, but he caught something about "scales" and "chafing." He almost snorted beer out his nose at the image that popped into his head, of the gator rubbing the blonde human female raw. The girl gave him a bottle and shooed him from the bar with an apologetic smile.

The gator started to walk on by, but noticed Simon and changed direction. The image of the blonde was quickly swapped out with a mental image of himself.

And here I thought the rumors of gators in Chicago were mere urban legend, Simon thought.

"Evenin', mate. This seat taken?" The gator said. Simon expected to hear the characteristic lisp most reptile hybrids developed when attempting to speak a human tongue, but the gator was as articulate as a human.

"No, by all means," Simon said, gesturing to the seat in front of him. "There's always room for a good looking gator."

The gator laughed and settled down. Simon felt the whole table shift as he sat, and the earlier image in his head was updated with a slightly squashed black panther. Simon resisted the urge to purr. The idea of being roughly ridden by this gator was making him happier by the minute. And the "happier" the idea made him, the more likely it was that the gator would pick up on the pheromones he was releasing. It was a trick, inherited from the hidden half of his heritage: that of an incubus.

"Must be a perfect night for your kind," Simon said. "Name's Simon, by the way."

The gator took a drink from his beer and held out his claw. "Call me Bayou. What brings a cat like you out on a night like this? Ain't it a bit hot under all that fur?" Bayou raised his right eye ridge, making the row of rings jingle merrily.

"I hear Chicago is always like this in August. Gods, if I wanted hot and humid, I should have gone to Miami instead," Simon said.

"Take my word for it, mate, it may be the same weather, but the reek of humanity would put even a cat like yourself off his beer," Bayou laughed. "Shame, too. Always wanted to see Disney World. Chase the guy in the Captain Hook outfit all around MagicKingdom."

Simon snorted into his beer and put the bottle down so that he could perform a proper face palm. "It would be on youtube within an hour."

"Aye, it would! Bah, but with the economy the way it is now... Admission is a bit much for a lark. And they don't take to well to gator hybrids. Gators, even, unless they're on the far side of an electric fence. Ah, well. It's too nice a night for something that depressing. Where are you from, what are you doing in a place like this?" Bayou asked.

Simon smiled. "I'm from all around, really. I've been traveling, seeing the world. I heard Chicago was a great city, so I came here to see for myself."

"And?"

"I'm impressed. Hybrids aren't exactly popular, but at least we're tolerated. It's a nice change from being chased out of any bar I walked into down in Texas." Simon replied.

"Chicago's a nice place. There's a fair bit of weirdness here, don't get me wrong, but I think every city's got its legends and such."

"Oh? Like what?"

"There's supposed to be a shapeshifting dhampir watching the city proper, there's coyotes that walk into sandwich shops. Real coyotes, not hybrids! And there's supposed to be gators in the sewers. Oh yeah, and if you ever see a bar by the name of Planer Chaos, don't ever drink the pink shit. You'll wake up a week later in bed with a flamingo and not remember a thing."

Simon burst out laughing. "You're pulling my tail."

"Trust me, mate, I can't make this up. Nothing surprises me anymore about this city." He took another drink from his beer and shook the now-empty bottle. "Well, time to move on, I think. There's going to be a party on the lake later tonight. Can't miss the boat, it's the only one loaded with hybrids. Consider yourself invited." Bayou winked and left the table.

Simon sat for a bit, nursing his drink and contemplating. Ack, what the hell.

***

Simon stared at the water of Lake Michigan. The boat Bayou had promised had either sailed already, or it wasn't real. Simon wasn't sure yet what to make of this lack of a party boat, but since he was unfamiliar with the city in general, he decided to make certain before he left the pier. With the setting of the sun, the temperature became a little more bearable, but not by much. Simon was still panting in the heat.

He sighed and skipped a rock across the water. Maybe he was just wasting his time. Maybe Bayou was wrong about a party boat. Simon skipped another stone over the water, and out of the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of movement. A piece of driftwood, probably a broken piece of the dock, floated by.

The dock lights glinted off something on the driftwood, and Simon took a closer look. It looked like an earring stuck into the wood. The board drifted closer, and Simon reached out to touch it--

The water exploded. Simon tried to recoil, but something grabbed his arm and pulled him into the water. Glowing yellow eyes leered at him from the spray, and Simon had just enough time to inhale before the water's surface closed over his head. Scaled arms wrapped around his body and held him like a vise, and powerful legs squeezed tight around his own, stopping the panther from trying to kick himself free. He pried his eyes open, and through the bubbles and the distortion of the water, Simon caught a glimpse of his attacker; a gator with golden piercings.

Bayou.

Simon snarled and tried to struggle free, realizing he'd been tricked, but the gator squeezed tighter and sank to the bottom of the lake. Bayou didn't try to out-power him. It didn't need to. All the gator needed to do was hold on and wait for Simon's air to run out.

And he wasn't going to have to wait long. Simon could feel his lungs burn for air, and the urge to breathe was getting more urgent by the moment. He struggled harder, but the gator chuckled and shifted its grip. One claw dropped down and gripped his sheathe. Startled, Simon growled, realizing too late that he'd just played right into the gator's claws. Half the air from his lungs drifted upward.

Air! I need air!

Simon kicked as hard as he could, but the gator had him in an iron grip. The edge of his vision began to fade, blacken. He lost the battle with his lungs, and gulped water. And as he passed out, a last thought crossed his oxygen-deprived mind, in the form of a children's song:

Never smile at a crocodile, never tip your hat and ask to stay a while...

_ _

***

He came to with his face pressed against something hard and flat. His fur was matted against his muzzle and his chest ached something fierce. But he was alive, and breathing air.

Blessed air.

Simon tried to rub his eyes, but his paws wouldn't obey. He tugged harder and discovered he couldn't move them.

That woke him up.

Simon's eyes flicked open. He was in a room, bare walls and tile floor. His paws were tied down. In fact, so were his legs. He blinked, trying to make the world come back into focus. He followed the ropes with his eyes, and discovered that he was tied to a table on his belly. The table's surface was easily as long as Simon was tall, but he seemed to only be taking up half of it. Someone had tied him to the end, lashing his legs to the legs of the table and his wrists to the opposite legs. The edge of the table dug into his belly, and he shifted. A jingling noise came from behind his head. He glanced behind. His tail had a bell on it, and was tied to a collar around his neck.

He'd been bound, bent over the table, like a tabby in heat.

Oh that bastard...

He heard the sound of scales sliding against tile, and Simon craned his neck to see. Into the room stepped a familiar gator.

"Bayou," Simon said in greeting.

"Good morning, kitten," Bayou rumbled. The gator ran one claw down Simon's back, lingering on his backside. Simon shifted, trying to get out from under the cold touch.

"What's the matter, kitten? I thought you were looking for a good time," Bayou growled, nuzzling the cat's neck. Simon snarled and clicked his teeth at the gator.

"Nearly drowning isn't what I had in mind," Simon snapped. Bayou pressed his body against Simon, and the panther could feel the gator rumble. The sound vibrated through his very bones, sending shivers down the feline's spine. And Gods help him, he was getting _aroused_from it. The pink tip of his cock peeked out from his sheathe, and Simon desperately tried to control his rising libido.

If he'd fed recently, he could have controlled it. But it had been too long, and the hunger wasn't going to be denied this time.

"Get used to disappointment," Bayou said, leaning close to Simon's ear. His cold, scaled nose brushed the sensitive tip, tearing a hiss of pleasure from Simon's throat. "You're a different sort of cat. I felt it when I met you. See, Chicago gets its fair share of the strange and the supernatural, but you--" Bayou chuckled and licked the edge of Simon's ear, thrusting his hips against the helpless feline's exposed backside. Simon could feel the heat of his mammal body leeching into the colder reptile's, draining the cat of warmth. "You're something even I haven't seen around these parts for a _very_long time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Simon said, trying very hard no to pant. The ache in his loins grew, pressing against the bottom of the table.

"I think you do, kitten," Bayou replied.

Simon had to swallow twice before his voice would work. "I'm just a panther hybrid, Bayou. Really," He panted.

Bayou chuckled, and Simon bucked under the gator. He could feel something cool and wet soaking into the fur of his back. "This is how it's going to work, kitten. I'll give you your release if you tell me what you are," Bayou rumbled, thrusting his hips harder and nipping Simon's neck.

Simon felt a knife of panic cut through his arousal. Incubi, even half incubi, were still considered supernatural beings and could be bound, spiritually, under the right circumstances. All it took was the right incantation, a little magic, and he was metaphorically (and he suspected literally) screwed. His life of freedom would be over. And because supernatural beings weren't considered "people" by law, once he was bound, he could only be released by the one who held his bonds.

Simon hissed. "Go to hell."

Bayou laughed. "As you wish, kitten. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I had mammal flesh?"

The gator pushed off of Simon's back and vanished under the table. Bayou ran his hands along the cat's thighs, working up to the V of his legs, and ran a single slick digit along the length of--

"Oh Gods!" Simon gasped.

Bayou chuckled. "Methinks the kitty doth protest too much. Admit it, kitten. You're enjoying this."

Simon grunted, shifting his hips. "I'd enjoy it a lot more if it was mutual pleasure, and I wasn't bound helpless to a table."

"Wouldn't you, though," Bayou replied from beneath the table. "Then tell me what you are."

Simon bared his teeth as the gator wrapped a claw around his length. "I _told_you," Simon panted, "I'm a black panther hybrid."

"Wrong answer." Bayou said, and something cool and wet coiled around Simon's member. Simon yowled, straining against his bonds. His claws unsheathed and dug into the wooden table, leaving shallow furrows. If he hadn't been so consumed by pleasure, he might have been able to work his claws into the rope, but Simon was too far gone to do more than blindly struggle. The hunger of the incubus was fully awakened, and with each stroke of the gator's tongue, it became harder and harder for the captive feline to think.

The gator worked Simon's length slowly at first, drawing the cat to his fullest almost leisurely. Suddenly, Bayou swallowed Simon and sucked.

Simon yowled, his hips thrusting of their own volition. The gator suckled faster, flicking his tongue across the sensitive barbs and driving the cat mad with lust. He panted, rutting into the gator's mouth with more urgency until--

Simon howled in frustration. Abruptly, the gator had completely withdrawn, leaving Simon bereft. "No! Don't stop!" He tried to grind against the table, to get that last bit of friction that would send him over the edge, but Bayou held his hips still. After a moment, Bayou let go and slunk out from under the table, licking his chops. "How do you feel, kitten?"

"Gods damn you," Simon panted. "Where did a gator get a tongue like that?"

"Human genes in the mix have their perks." Bayou replied. "Ready to talk yet?"

Simon dropped his head to the table with an audible thump. "I'm seriously. Just. A. Panther."

Bayou pressed Simon into the table, leaning into him and pinning the smaller cat under his larger bulk and ran his short claws through Simon's fur. He slid his claw between the cat's exposed cheeks and traced the edge of his tail hole.

"Don't you dare," Simon hissed.

"Dare what? This?" Bayou fairly purred, thrusting one digit into him. Simon yowled, bucking frantically. It wasn't that he didn't like it; he rather enjoyed being penetrated. But his control was only so good. And the gator seemed very intent on finding out Simon's true nature.

Simon growled and closed his eyes, trying to ease the burning need coiling in his belly. But Bayou slipped another finger into him, and it was all Simon could do not to scream with pleasure. Bayou pulled out and pressed in again, brushing the cat's prostate just enough to cause Simon to yowl and buck. The ropes holding him to the table dug into his hide, leaving tracks in his skin. Bayou slid into him again, harder this time, deeper, and Simon cried out.

"Bayou, stop!"

"I told you, kitten. You tell me what you are, and I'll give you your release. But since you insist that you're nothing more than a run-of-the-mill black panther, I'm going to insist that I continue. Besides, you have such a voice. I love hearing it." Bayou plunged into the cat, rending another yowl from him.

"I'm...nothing important!" Simon grunted.

"Well, at least you're admitting that you're something. I suppose it's a start." Bayou withdrew completely from Simon's body, and the cat collapsed onto the table. But his relief was short lived. A moment later, he felt something cool and wet prodding his entrance.

"What th--oh Gods!"

Something long, slender and cool slid into Simon in a single stroke. Bayou ground his hips against Simon's body a few times, working his length in and out and shifting with each thrust until--

Simon screamed. Bayou's length pressed against the cat's prostate, sending electric pleasure through the cat's body. The gator pulled out and thrust in again, hitting that damned spot again. As he rutted into the feline, Bayou rumbled, sending bass vibrations through Simon's body and driving him mad.

He tried clenching around the gator, tried to get Bayou to climax so that he could at least feed on the energy and draw strength from it. But Bayou's control and patience were reptilian. He brought the tormented feline at the very edge and kept him going for what felt like forever.

"Bayou, please!" Simon howled.

"What are you, Simon?" Bayou asked, hitting the spot again.

"Nuh. Never," Simon grunted. Bayou growled and began nibbling on the tip of Simon's ear, and Simon let out a primal cry of frustration. The ropes bit into his wrists and creaked as he thrashed, trying to either cum or throw the gator off his back.

And suddenly, Bayou was gone. Simon whimpered at the sudden lack of sensation again. "Bayou, don't do this," he sobbed.

"Don't do what?" Bayou was back under the table, his breath hot against his rock hard member. The gator had obviously stolen enough warmth from delving into Simon's body to feel mammalian hot. Bayou ran his tongue across Simon's sac, languidly lapping at the cat's testicles. Simon whimpered again, going limp. He needed, so badly...

The gator coiled his tongue around Simon again, suckling harder than before. His hips rocked against the table, pumping into Bayou even more desperately.

He couldn't...he mustn't...damn it, he was stronger than this.

But in the back of his mind, Simon knew his will was breaking. Bayou slowed down, licking Simon's shaft from tip to base and back to the tip, flicking his tongue along the cat's barbs, cracking the cat's will further until, at last, Simon broke.

"Please, I'll tell you! Just...finish it!" Simon screamed.

Bayou paused, and uncoiled his tongue from Simon's body. The feline was shivering so badly that the whole table shook. He closed his eyes, feeling faint.

"What are you, Simon?" Bayou rumbled.

"Incubus." Simon sobbed miserably. "I'm half incubus."

"Bloody hell."

Simon screamed as he felt Bayou return his attention to his throbbing member. "Bayou, I told you, please, no more, Gods you're going to kill me!" Simon cried. But this time, Bayou didn't slow down. He sucked faster, driving the cat up and up until, with an anguished cry of relief, Simon orgasmed. His back arched, his toes curled, and he swore that the table cracked under his claws.

Simon collapsed, aftershocks rippling through his body. He felt drained, too weak to move. Bayou came out from under the table with a large knife and sliced through Simon's bonds, but the cat was too exhausted to even acknowledge his freedom.

"Do you have any idea, any at all, how rare your kind is, even in a place like Chicago? Sobek's blood, mate. No wonder you held out so long," Bayou murmured. He nuzzled Simon's neck, but the exhausted cat could only offer a thin meow in reply. The gator picked up Simon and held him, but the cat collapsed into his lap and immediately latched on to Bayou's diminishing phallus.

Bayou grunted and tried to pry Simon off, but before he could put much of an effort into it, the cat began to suckle and Bayou couldn't remember why he should stop Simon. Soft, furred lips and delicate whiskers brushed the gator's exposed skin as Simon lapped. The cat sped up, drawing energy from Bayou as he became more and more aroused. The gator rumbled, and Simon could feel the vibration through his teeth. He purred, causing Bayou to buck under him. Taking it as a hint, Simon thrummed harder and sped up, milking the gator's length. With a savage roar, Bayou came, thrashing and clutching at Simon.

"Are you...alright, mate?" Bayou panted when had enough breath to speak. Simon grinned and nodded, looking much better than he had a few minutes ago.

"So. Incubus." Bayou raised an eye ridge.

Simon nodded. "I was afraid you were going to soul bind me."

Bayou snorted. "If you were just some demon spawn, perhaps. But you don't kill when you feed like a full-blooded incubus, right?"

Simon shook his head.

"Then you're free to go, mate. My vendetta's against demons who kill. Not horny half-bloods," Bayou chuckled. "You've got the be the first other half-incubus I've ever met."

"Other?!" Simon blinked.

Bayou grinned and nodded.

"That...explains a lot."

Bayou chuckled. "Do you have a place you're staying in the city? I'll take you back. Least I can do, really." The gator looked sheepish.

"I'm...not really complaining," Simon replied. "And I'm staying at a hotel by the lake."

"Well, if you decide to stay in town for a few more days, let me know. I'll send you to safer places to feed. Navy Pier is owned by the demons, you know."

Simon smirked. "I think I can find an excuse to stick around for a while, under one condition."

Bayou looked at him.

"We do this again. And this time, you're on the table."

Bayou laughed, and agreed.