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Tonight's the big night. With plenty of solo dances under her belt, Molly was ready.

She had trained and rehearsed, planned and practised; all in service to tonight. It was time for a sensual duet...

The announcer's voice might as well have been white noise, lulling her into the dreamlike ecstasy of the moment. Her stage name pierced the murk — Venus — and echoed in her mind. Her compatriot followed — Savannah — her closest partner, the one she'd spent the last several weeks perfecting her craft with.

It was time.

The curtain drew back on Stage One. Molly felt the warm orange glow of the lighting paint the side of her face as she hovered backstage, awaiting her entrance. The board had been set. She was the first piece to move. The rumble of tribal music rose over the bated anticipation of the crowd — those multitudes of slobbering mouths and expectant eyes. She breathed, calming herself.

I am ready.

Her mind wandered to her boyfriend. He was somewhere in the audience by now, one of the upper sections. No amount of assurances could fully steel her thoughts. But she was ready. It was time. There would be no stepping back...

The stage-lights dimmed, drowning her in darkness. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom. She strode into place under solid black.

* * *

Cade's heart raced. His girlfriend, the woman who barged into his life and whom he couldn't bear to be away from, was about to go onstage and bare all. His first impressions of the club were misplaced. He thought it quiet, discrete, hidden. But as the customers flowed and the night progressed, he realised the enormity of what he'd been placed within.

He knew his fears were silly. The concerns of a close partner. This was her job, and she was nothing but a consummate professional. He had been prepared.

I am ready. I hope she is too.

He paid no heed to the booming announcer. Nor the whispers of a chattering crowd. His eyes were fixed on the luxurious curtain. Soaked in red, it's heft supported by ornate pillars either side. The colour bled into the air, shimmering...glowing...poisoning the room with its lustful shades. It crept back, and Cade gripped his seat. He was suitably alone. He could afford to show weakness, just a smidgen of it.

Stage One opened. The lights transformed into beams of warm summer sun. The strong radiance of the scrublands, leaping out of a nature documentary into the comfort of the Violetta's plush abode.

His breathing grew shallow. He sensed the rush of excitement travel through him.

Onstage lay scenery. False grass and arid plains. It conjured the savannah, the serenghetti; the richness of the desert-encroached south. Streamers trailed at the fringes of the stage-curtain, flowing like long yellow stalks. Blades of grass rustled under false winds. The 'sunlight' coated the scene in orange tones.

Woah! She wasn't lying. What a night to pick.

He congratulated Molly on finding a place that did things on this scale. This...sheer, awesome scale!

Then, suddenly, the lights dimmed before shutting off completely. He was left in the dark. A slow-building track emerged from the speakers, transporting him to far-off lands in a far-away time.

He could feel the crowd's anticipation. The audience hungered for his mate. A pang of jealously rose and fell — as quickly as it had spawned. He put his subconscious thoughts on hold, keeping his mind clear...understanding what he had agreed to witness.

Cade waited, as the music got louder. He waited as the light began to return. Its glow a comfort to him; to others. He inched forward in his seat.

As the stage came back into view, he saw the wonderful set dressing once more. But his eye was also caught by a person, centre-stage. Someone he knew very well.

He couldn't help but smile, and exclaim to himself:

Holy fuck!

* * *

A single pole jutted from the middle of the large stage, its silvery sheen dulled to better match the environment. Beside it, and off to the left: a gorgeous, slender creature stood. Venus, dialled back to the days before civilisation. Her body shifted ever so slightly as she took a step forward. All lights shone upon her. Her eyes were closed. Her hands moved through the air, flowing down from her shoulders along her chest, waist, and thighs. Then spreading — extending out in a sweeping motion before climbing high above her horned head.

A low rumble came from the sound system as it sprang into life. The music started with a pan-flute flurry — it's notes quivering as much as the tension growing in the room. It evoked ancient, pastoral life. Primitive life, leaping straight from nature to nature's perfect creation: her.

The tribal soundscape grew with the thumping of drums joining the flute. The animal-skinned instruments were not alone. If you listened closely, chanting could be heard. This music stirred feelings. Strange feelings. Nostalgia for a past that didn't exist — a past transplanted with the hybrids of today. All eyes fixed on Venus, as hers remained shut.

She took another step, her movements enhanced by the music. Her fluid motion keeping with the hastening tempo. Her snout tilted, head raising. A gesture of aloofness. She moved her hands again in a wide arc. Her weight shifted to one leg, tensing it and slackening the other.

Her hip tilted too, drawing attention to her sparse clothing.

The antelope hybrid was dressed in a two-piece garment. Its cloth a replica of tanned hide and scavenged fur. The warm pallet of colour it exposed with its rough-hewn appearance suited the brown fur of its wearer.

Her loincloth was cut to a fine edge. Smooth fabric descending to about knee-height, leaving her lower legs bare and her flanks exposed. Around her waist, a plunging strap-line charted path over and around her hips, its string obscured by folds and patches of soft fur dressing. Two-thirds of her thigh and hip were afforded to the audience thanks to this design. Soft beige fabric swept by the motion of her legs kept the lower half of her costume in a constant state of activity. Her belly, replete with fine-groomed fur — a treat to run your hands through — remained firm. Strong. Luxuriously silken. Higher up, her costume returned in the form of a skimpy bikini top fashioned from the same material as her loincloth. It caught the lustful imagination with its plentiful underboob, the swell of her large breasts forcing watchers into fits of drooling. It hung via the same string-and-faux-fur-pelt styling as her bottom. Suspended in erotic tension by the primitive trappings of the Stone Age.

Thrummm—dum-dum-dum-dum...

The first rattle of flute and drum came to an end. Things went quiet.

Her hoof traced a circle on the dusty floor. Graceful poise of leg and foot transitioned to a slow advance. Now Venus neared the centre pole, approaching it from behind. Her audience watched her body flow, her curves float...her best bits hidden from gaze.

She still faced them. Front, well...front-and-centre! Idling by the solitary pole. The music returned, its chanting rising from guttural growls to something resonant. Again, she made controlled moves to excite. To summon sensuality before the pending slaughter. Her hand glided from her cheek to her neck to her collar, her chest rising as she breathed heavily.

Thrummm—dum-dum-dum-dum...

Again the music rumbled to a close. Venus opened her eyes.

The world wrenched itself apart trying to contain her. One look into her shimmering eyes, wrapped in dark black ink that coiled in patterned strips around her snout and ears, was all it took to lose yourself. Beyond a mask — beyond the need to hide herself. Venus looked stunning, and the painful longing of the crowd was almost at its height. Her eyes dazzled, the stage-lights changing tint to better accentuate their colour. Her horns shone — obsidian pillars jutting from the furred landscape, ornate with intricate prehistoric patterns: rings, circles, concentric spirals. An art historian's dream to study and admire, if any happened to be in the faceless crowd. As more and more attention was drawn to her, and the lights continued to change colour and intensity, they saw...more...

In the handful of seconds between the quiet peace and the resumption of the show's music, the audience were treated to a glimpse of greater beauty. A quick burst of odd blue and purple light revealed the patterns on the rest of her body; the decorations inked into her fur...

Like snakes, two great spirals coiled around her sides — painted from the bone of her ankle to her ribcage, widening and thinning along the stroke's length. Speckled dots surrounded those shapes, and others. Dagger-points, bristling with feral intent, stabbed her from many angles. Chevrons slathered in the blood of a kill — white and red, a living cave painting. Striped bands appeared on her upper and lower arms, as well as her legs — two or three in groups apiece. Shoulder, wrist, knee, and ankle were painted with such stripes. Rings swirled around her bellybutton, and parts of the same design could be seen couched by the disappointing modesty of her barbarian bikini-top. Lines, angles, and curves...curves competing with her own physical plenty.

No sooner had her sensual canvas been shown, it vanished. The lights restored the sun-kissed glow onstage, and the music — long-building in volume — intended to stay.

Venus side-stepped and grabbed the pole. With a flourish she swung all the way around and kicked up her leg as she came to rest, one complete rotation later. She twirled again, this time slow and agonisingly sensual. After a quarter-rotation she stopped, finally showing her rear to the crowd. Plump cheeks shook and squashed the cloth between them. She knelt, her chest pressed against the pole, hands dragging along its length at the end of outstretched arms. Her squat forced her buns to tighten, firming with the expansion and compression of muscles in different parts of her leg. The music continued its wild thrumming, picking up its pace whenever one got too comfortable. Striking the yearning hearts of the audience with another round of intense drumming and chanting. She rose quickly — shooting bolt upright as the notes rose with her. Now she completed her spin, hurtling her hybrid body the remaining three-quarters, returning to her original spot.

The scene was palpable. Exotic. Enthralling. Extreme — for what was, to put it crudely, a striptease. The effort involved amazed those thinking about it, and paid its cost back many times over if the audience's fixation was anything to go by. Molly's practised form, filling the role of Venus completely, danced alone. But her alone was enough. Vi could've billed this as an extravagant solo performance. Like her debut — making her the centre of attention and the target of adulation. But she didn't. Violetta was no mere strip club. It was an experience. One-of-a-kind. Serving to a niche that in time would evaporate, as hybrids and humans and their intermingling...their differences, quirks and qualities merged...leading to normalcy. Nothing new under the sun. An antelope striptease? Ho-hum, pass the remote...

Until that future arrived, this club thrived.

* * *

Molly could've done her routine and ended it there, with everyone happy. But Vi had been specific, planning for a grand 'show'. This was what Rylan kept telling her — how much bigger and better it had to be.

The audience didn't know. Maybe some of them had gone to an earlier 'show' (finger-quotes included). Didn't matter. Fresh faces cycled into the club every day...week...month. Word-of-mouth proved a powerful engine of advertisement. They watched, sitting in their seats, concealed by the darkness of the theatre, excited. And content with their excitement, ignorant of what came next.

Just wait and see! Molly thought, thinking about their attention. Just you all wait and see!

For a second she was herself, not her 'Venus' persona — the silent goddess. For a second, she could remark in confidence.

Just you wait...especially you, Cade!

Her gyrations flowed from one to the other. Moves well-rehearsed, second-nature to her. The warm lighting had not changed since the glimpse from earlier. It coated her with a bright sheen, dampened by the matte of her costume. Her fur begged to breathe. Not yet.

Freedom beckoned, just around the corner of the next routine...two steps, turn, swing...two steps, bend, shake...she felt her garments loosening, preparing to abandon her of their own will. Molly smirked.

Almost time.

* * *

Venus scaled the pole, wrapping around it in a long, drawn-out motion — hips and crotch grinding against the metal. Stage-lights tracked her as she ascended, until she was a metre or two above ground. Once she reached her mark, she froze. At that same moment, the music cut off; a fade-out timed to her stoppage. She held herself still, freeze-framed. Then, the narrow shafts of light that coated her in rich yellow shrank and spun rapidly upwards, shooting into the heavens. Darkness enclosed the stage, and sound returned with a faint electronic backing track.

Motionless, Venus let the ultraviolet black-lights align on her — illuminating her painted fur once again. They glowed in the dark, her furry hide clad in a low shimmer. The other spotlights swept across the stage — bright patches of the supposed sun crossing cloud on the great plains, simulating a speedy progression from dusk to dawn.

She remained still, her body perched on the pole, her sultry form begging for action.

Amidst the swirling light show, another entered from stage right. A spotlight wheeled around to discover 'Savannah' (Emily). The second character billed for tonight's grand performance.

The lioness slunk in low to the ground, her ass raised and tail whipping the air. She too wore little. A barely-perceptible g-string and bra disguised as prehistoric garb, same as Venus. Furs and a prop knife clung to her hip.

Savannah let out a growl — amplified by the mostly silent theatre. The audience was drawn to her, away from Venus — whose statuesque beauty remained fixed, motionless. The newcomer, however, proved dynamic. She writhed along the ground, a predatory look on her face. Muscles bulge and flex as she slid across scenery, keeping herself prone. Enough sensual movement is made by her adept approach to turn a natural stalk into a piece of erotic art.

As she prowled, she crossed the front of the stage. Venus did not respond. Underneath sweeping shafts of light, her golden fur shone for some, and pulsed with inked patterns for others. Light and dark constantly switched places, moving around the stage. Patches of radiance here and there pulled apart and joined together — keeping predator and prey constantly in focus.

Savannah's ass gyrated with each crawling step. Thick cords of muscle tensed and relaxed as she moved to a crouched posture, one knee raised and the other resting on the ground. One of her hands slid across her thigh. Her back arched. She bundled herself as small as possible, keeping her body hard to spot in the fiction of the scene. She eyed Venus, oblivious to the danger. The special UV lamps doused her in eerie blue and purple, her body's painted patterns jagged — brutal. All sharp edges and dagger-points, strokes resembling teeth and claws imprinted on her very being. A body built to ravage the unsuspecting antelope.

A second or two passed, and the lights raised. They reached about half of the strength of Venus' solo dance, and removed the ethereal symbology from each of the performers. They now danced only beneath the orange sun — their hides clean to the naked eye.

Savannah resumed her prowling, stalking sensually around the simulated serenghetti (try saying that five times fast!). She crawled, a lioness on the hunt, throwing in the odd dance or flourish as she circled the centre of the stage.

The lights continued to brighten, and Venus reanimated. Savannah dashed to cover, and found a hiding place among the fake foliage. The antelope hybrid slid down the pole, play-acting a romp through the landscape, all the while being followed. By now the tune of the music playing had become tense, building tension as both move sensually.

Once Savannah had found her mark, she pounced! A musical sting accompanied the attack, the lioness leaping over to Venus and grappling with her.

The chanting and heavy drums of the early show returned with a vengeance. Loud, pounding rhythms beat out the struggle between Venus and Savannah.

THRUMMM-BOOM-BOOM-THRUMMM!

The notes repeat. The pair wrestled, Venus did her best impression of a frightened beast trying to escape. Savannah freed one of her hands and raked her claws across Venus' chest, causing her to spin away. Just as planned, her primitive bra bursts open, reduced to tatters from being caught by Savannah's sharp claws.

Venus gasped and feigned immense shock as her chest bounced free. The first signs of nakedness would usually bring howls and whoops from the audience, but tonight they are glued to the scene. Out of respect for the sexy showmanship they stay calm, and quiet. Men and women, humans and hybrids, collectively pitching a tent.

A chase ensued. Savannah dove at Venus again. This time she caught her and pinned her against a piece of hill scenery. The two ground against each other, the lioness miming bites on her prey's neck and chest. Fighting back, Venus unhooked Savannah's bra, and the thin garment got flung offstage into the hands of a very lucky fan.

Both topless, they wrestled, mashing their breasts together and copping feels just as much as pretending to bite, claw, and scrape. The music hit a high tempo, bass thundering through the stage and seats.

Savannah dropped to her knees and savaged Venus' ample bosom. Her quaking breasts a feast for the naughty lioness. Plenty of licks and kisses found their way to her mounds, before Venus forced her to part and strode across the stage, Savannah pursuing close behind.

Her third attempt at pouncing landed short — intentionally; falling, Savannah grabbed the string of Venus' loincloth and brutally sheared away the last scrap of clothing on the other female. Twirling to face her assailant, Venus gave the audience a good look at her gorgeous bare figure and its jiggle. Savannah deftly turned her fall into a forward roll, catapulting herself on top of Venus and bringing the troublesome antelope to the ground.

They hit the stage floor in a controlled fall.

Savannah slowly crawled over her, making her movements as sensual as possible. Writhing 'neath the predator, Venus shivered and held her body against Savannah's mounting pressure. The lioness enveloped her prey, limb entangling limb, until she had pinned her completely.

The stage-lights narrowed, focusing on the entwined pair.

With the audience hanging on every subtle twist and turn, Savannah shifted her leg — letting one thigh press against Venus' pussy. The tickle of foreign fur evident on her prey's blushing face. Venus attempted to break free, but did nothing except squirm helplessly, allowing Savannah to tease her by rubbing further.

They faced off, eye-to-eye. Their heads drew closer...closer...until...

Savannah's lips met Venus'. Warm, sopping tongues fought behind the seal of their mouths clamped together. Both let their eyes close as they were swept up into the thrill of the hunt. Predation turned to pleasure — bodies writhed, twisted, and rolled in a fabulous tableau. Leonine claws gently raked their victim, reminding her that she was indeed fearsome. A cause for panic, befuddled by the growing feelings between each actor. A cause for relief, as Savannah's golden-furred form trapped Venus in sensual struggle.

Their kiss broke, the instigator wearing a pained yet ravenous expression. Starved of satiation. With a hapless antelope to quench her desire.

The dance of exploration moved to a new motion. A sequence of equilibrium. Venus, though under a tonne of big cat muscle, matched her assailant with her own vigorous kiss. Her long legs found purchase and pushed her away, dragging against Savannah as they passed her by — bidding the frustrated huntress a mixed farewell.

Completely naked — her fur tussled by a predator's tongue and claw — Venus took up a defiant stance. Her back straightened, her ass firmed by her strong-legged pose, head held proud; she stared down the lioness, her bare body now a challenge issued. Come and get it.

Savannah snarled and leapt into action. Bounding after the flighty antelope, she attempted to bring Venus down again. This time, however, she was ready. In a choreographed battle Venus swept behind Savannah and pivoted the lioness into a submissive lock. The scene was spectacular. Fiery cries issued from the fighting pair — a blur of gold and tan fur, limbs tangling, breasts shivering, butts smashing together; they acted their parts in such a way as to drive the audience wild. Where once silence reigned, a chorus of excitement. Where once those watching were held in suspenseful anticipation, balanced on the precipice of delight, they wallowed in the aggression...the sensation...their cries and cheers complemented the performers' own.

At the height of the sexual combat, Venus had the upper hand. She bent back Savannah's arms and brought her to pained yowls, tempered by the great lust that thickened the air. She pressed herself against the lioness' back, body gyrating against her. She moaned as the long tail wriggled between her thighs — teasing her pussy with its fluffy floundering. Venus nipped her compatriot's ear, giving the predator a taste of her own medicine. Not content with that alone, she gradually worked her opponent to the floor — weakening her stance until she was crawling around with her on her back. Her wet nethers freed the captive tail, small streaks of soaked fur dotting its length. With a sigh and attuned to the change in musical tempo, Venus pinned Savannah against the stage.

The lioness play-acted defeat, and let the victorious antelope claim her as a prize. Grinding against one another, the pair worked themselves into a frenzy. Miming the act of scissoring, extracting some real pleasure from their entanglement. All the while the lights kept switching. Flickering...strobing...adding to the frantic energy of the scene.

Seconds remained. The music reached crescendo.

Their bodies writhed. Their performance neared its end.

Painted stripes, arrows, and curved patterns glowed on their hides.

Flesh and fur mingled gloriously.

Climax approached. They feigned orgasm as the Stage went black, and the music came to a sudden end.

It was over.

* * *

Behind the stage, Molly's colleagues watched her and Emily slink away after the lights dropped. Whooping and hollering echoed as they stood back and observed. In one corner: Rebecca, Juni and Angelica shared excited conversation. Proud of their sister-in-arms. Some ways away, Mark chatted with Rylan, occasionally gesturing to the pair. Their mutterings were also positive.

Resting against a pillar at the mouth of the stage, Vi's expression turned into a frown. Not angry, nor upset...something else. A feeling she couldn't place. Her time alone ended as Rylan trotted over to her, the others nearby dispersing — no doubt to greet the performing pair on their triumphant return backstage.

She was first to talk: “well, was I wrong?"

“No siree, boss," Rylan huffed, his words descending into a nicker, “that was one helluva show. Good job partnering her up with Emily. They do great work complementing each other."

Vi glanced at Rylan, noticing how he was dressed casually, not in his usual skimpy attire, and sighed. These kinds of shows were expensive, and often pulled performers off of their usual schedules to sit by the wayside on the night, to keep all eyes on the main event. Pricey...a hit to the books...but worth it.

“Now that Molly's hit the heights a performer at Violetta can reach, I wonder if she'll be happy with roster work for the foreseeable future." Vi may run the club, but she wasn't clairvoyant. Had she talked her friend into joining with too much emphasis on spectacle?

“She's your friend. You tell me."

Vi paused. She tried answering her doubts by herself, thinking hard about Molly. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to think that was it. To get bored with Violetta. She didn't want that, not if it happened so soon.

A grunt of inquiry from Rylan forced her to respond: “think she'll be fine. We always used to worry about letting the thrill-seeker inside of us loose in college. Age hasn't changed her spirit."

“Nor has genetic modification," the horse chuckled.

“That too."

“Heh...'course, that's not the only reason you hired her."

“No," she said, her voice becoming stern, “and I want no back-chat about my reluctance to go through it myself. Hear me? She can make fun of me being a pussy 'because she took the plunge."

“And what about me? I wasn't always a giant horse dude."

“Yeah, but you never tell me about yourself. About what your life was like before your anthromorphing."

Rylan shrugged, confessing to the charge. “True..."

A second pause ensued. Violet surveyed the emptying hall, her patrons filtering back to the bars or the smattering of table dancers still performing elsewhere in the club. “Well," she asked, “aren't you gonna say anything to me now?"

“Eh...not my thing. There was lots of lumber-jacking. Will that tide you over 'til our next heart-to-heart?"

Vi smiled. “Sure will, Rylan. Now go and do whatever the fuck you do when off the clock, and keep not telling me about it. Can't have our workplace lacking secrets, can we?"

Rylan left her alone. The nearby chatter of Rebecca and the others faded as they also left through the backstage area. She yawned, and looked over her shoulder at the empty space. Her expression didn't settle — her feelings dithered as she stood quietly, and wondered whether she could go through with it.

What could she do to feel a bit better? Schedule another update meeting with Molly?

What would that do if they had nothing new to talk about?

She hung around a while longer before joining the others to greet the returning performers, her old friend chief among them.

* * *

As she shuffled back into seclusion, Molly checked her bag and phone. She found a message waiting for her. Cade seemed pleased. At least the small image of a thumbs-up suggested so

She texted in response: you still around? and followed the corridor from the changing rooms to the back offices. No time had been spent 'changing' from nothing into something. Molly walked naked, her ruffled fur on display to passing dancers. In her hand she clutched her phone, absent-mindedly showering her hip with its pale white screen-glow.

From across the way she saw Emily approach. A warm smile travelled across the room, exchanging wordless pleasantries with the two spent performers. She too was nude, her golden fur snugly coating her fabulous body. Fluffy breasts bounced in Molly's vision — complementing the swish of her long, flexible tail. Molly's mood raised. The antelope's gait turned into a hop, skip, and jump as she reunited with her co-star. She came to a stop a foot or two from Emily, and sighed happily.

“Good job Molls," the lioness purred, “I think everyone wants to say 'well done' to our newest star."

“Behind this?" she asked, pointing to a door beyond which eager, excited voices emerged.

Emily said nothing, merely gesturing for her to open it.

Molly glanced at her naked body, feeling unsure of strolling into the room with what Mother Nature gave her — but seeing Emily nonchalantly prepare to enter as well put her fears of embarrassment to rest. They just watched me fuck live in front of a paying crowd, why am I now nervous to show myself to them?

She entered. A room of beaming familiar faces shoved itself unceremoniously into her field of view. Her ears flicked and she rubbed her neck, muttering something along the lines of 'shucks' or a simile thereof.

“Molly!" came the assorted cries of welcome. Several of the girls took her underarm and dragged her, tittering, into the crowd. She passed Rylan, who smirked and gave her silent affirmation. As she was towed away, his grin only grew as Rebecca hugged her and squealed with delight:

“You know what this means...AFTER PARTY!!!"

A champagne bottle popped. A musical sting heralded backstage celebration. Molly, exasperated, tried in vain to take in the sights surrounding her. Meek resistance to her cheering colleagues was all she could muster.

“No, no!" she sighed, “please, I'm tired..."

“Aw! C'mon Molls," Rebecca chirped, “have a drink. I'll make one specially for you!"

“Like you can mix drinks," Rylan said, approaching Molly.

“I can so, horsie-boy!"

Ignoring the collie stomping her foot indignantly, Rylan fetched a conical glass with a thin stem and placed it on the nearby bar counter. Two seconds later, three distinct colours of alcoholic beverage blended into a rainbow-stream of swirling liquid.

“Nooo, you can't," he shot back, chuckling as he handed Molly the glass, “pouring them from a single bottle isn't mixing."

Molly took a sip. The liquid stung.

“Not having any more?"

“I will," she replied, nursing the glass. “Let me get in the mood first!"

A smattering of other dancers corralled Molly into a hug and an excited chat. Two of the faces looked vaguely familiar — but the rest? She was exhausted, and couldn't give less of a shit about remembering names, faces, and what-not. Tonight was at long last the night she accepted that Violetta was, to quote her scattered appreciation: 'fucking huge'.

Rebecca smiled as she drank more. The chirpy canine watched her finish the glass before offering another, away from the interference of Rylan. Molly thanked her but turned down the offer. “One is enough," she said, “it's already late."

Juni, standing beside the pair, spoke: “not thinking of staying?"

Molly's response was non-committal. Rebecca chimed in: “she wants to go home to her man."

“A partner? Mooh...Molly I never would have guessed. Boyfriend? Herd-mate? More?"

Before she could answer, the familiar sensation of claws dug into her sides.

“Surprise!"

Emily's exclamation formed close to her right ear, causing Molly to flinch at the sound. Spinning 'round, Molly confronted the naked lioness, her own figure bared to the room.

“And here's the other half," Rylan said, re-entering the conversation after small talk with guard dogs Hannah and Heather, tucked away in a far corner, “how's it going Emily?"

The lioness smiled, and held herself with a regal air. “Very well, thank you Rylan. You were watching us too?"

“Sure was. Me and the boss lady."

“Got any critiques?"

“What? About your choreography? Nah, it was flawless."

“Either one of you could have done it beautifully," another voice emerged from the ambient noise of many conversations, “and you did Emily. Another notch in your belt."

Everyone in the group turned to the newcomer — Violet. The human looked pleased with the outcome of the night's show, a fact clear to all present by the enormous grin she wore.

“And Molls..." she paused, taking a second to gather herself. “Molly, I can't even describe how well that went. First time and everything..."

Vi chuckled, gesturing to her friend's frayed form. “I'd hug you, but...maybe take a shower first!"

“Are you sure?" Molly asked, arms outstretched. “I could grab you right now — take hesitation out of the equation."

Vi's head shook, and she ignored Molly's threat of embrace. “I'd be covered in fur. Ruining my outfit."

“So what!? Do I need an outfit?" she declared, turning her outstretched pose into a pirouette, showing off her curves. “Looks like I don't."

“That's more like it," Rylan cheered, another glass of something-or-other rammed into the antelope's hands. “Here's another on me."

“Well," Vi replied, “seeing as you're loosening up — I'll leave you all be. Got some things to sort out before I leave, and as much as I'd like to hang around and celebrate our newest member's success she can tell me all about it after the hangover tomorrow."

Vi exchanged words with Rylan — business talk, with some requests for covering others' shifts thrown into the mix. As the attention of the remaining 'partiers' shifted away from her and the equine hybrid, she left for her office, leaving the horse standing on his own. He interrupted the group once more to let Molly know he was heading home, and to offer a car ride.

“No thanks, but thanks, Rylan...I've got Cade out front."

“One lucky sunavabitch that guy," he joked. “Hope he enjoyed the show."

With Rylan leaving, Rebecca grabbed Molly's arm, and her fully attention — pushing aside Emily and Juni. “Yesss...now I can ply you with shots until the cows come home. Uh..."

She made a side-glance at Juni, who simply nudged her with her elbow in a friendly way. “C'mon Becca, quit being a pussy. Do you think I get weirded out every time I use a phrase that's dog-related?"

Molly stopped the collie's offer before it had even settled in her own mind. “No thanks, I need sleep!"

“Just a little celebration? C'mon girl! Where's your attitude gone? I want the badass cave-babe from the show back."

“To...do shots with? Did they have shots back in prehistoric times?"

Rebecca wavered. “Yeah...well...it doesn't sound like it makes sense when you...um...just...just shut up and drink!"

Lifting the glass Molly already held to her lips, she 'encouraged' her colleague to down Rylan's parting gift in one. The bitter, scouring taste of the cocktail left her coughing. “Fucking—what did he put in this? Absinthe and paint stripper!?"

“He must know you need the hard stuff," Rebecca jeered, “now, let me fix you something."

Molly relented. “Okay, fine...a little..." She backed up her statement by pinching her thumb and finger together, waving the gesture close to Rebecca's nose so she got the message.

The group now reduced to three, with the excitable collie rummaging through the bar stock for what she wanted Molly to taste. Several pours later, Molly was sipping a fruity potion that left a slightly clinical aftertaste. She couldn't tell if she preferred it to Rylan's hammer-stroke of a drink. But she diligently drank it all.

Rebecca shared a look with Emily, and piped up with more congratulations: “amazing work onstage. That's what I call hot!" The lioness hovered close to Molly, as if to feel her sensual aura.

Molly placed her empty glass on a table. Smitten with the scene, her lips curled into an eager grin. “Heh," she said, “it was hot."

Unconsciously, she slipped her arms between Emily's, wrapping around and laying her hands on her soft back. The tight layer of impenetrable muscle fought back against her digit's entreaty. She shivered when she felt Emily's paw stroke her belly...hip...then cupping her ass. Warm sensations coursed through her. A touch of light-headedness kept her in a tizzy, whether it be the drink or the lustful encountered they'd played out. Soon she found herself pressed against Emily, the purring lioness had her eyes closed and was gently nuzzling her. She could sense the others leaning in...getting as close as possible to the moment...

A yelp escaped Molly. The feeling of Emily's finger probing her clit, gently massaging her exposed womanhood, rocked her. Emily giggled quietly. The room went suddenly silent, before a chanting chorus of 'Kiss! Kiss! Kiss' consumed them both.

Another? And offstage...how daring!

“Why not?" she heard Emily whisper, her Savannah persona re-emerging. “We didn't get to finish during the show...not for real..."

Molly put the baying crowd from her mind. Reverting to instinct, she let Emily's tender touch pass over her — one second, two seconds, three...

She felt it building. It was a while away, but the horizon would not stay static forever.

The lioness moved her head, and went in for the kiss.

Their lips met. Planted firmly together, the nude pair tussled with tongues amid sopping lips. A roaring cheer from the others encouraged them. Greedy hands and paws wandered, capturing curves and ploughing fields of fur. Emily's claws still danced at her entrance, shortening Molly's breath and causing her to break the kiss, to her counterpart's chagrin.

“Naughty," she cooed, wagging a finger at Emily. “What would my boyfriend think?"

“The guy you brought here to watch us?"

Searching around for a reply, Molly found none. She graciously forfeited the game of seduction by taking a step back and bowing her head. One solitary word carried the defeat to Emily, informing her of Molly's surrender:

“Touché."

Emily laughed. “That was easy," she remarked, glancing around at her fellow performers. “Maybe there's something else we can show off."

At the request of the frisky lioness, the lights shut off. Someone brandished a portable black-light, dousing the naked pair in ultraviolet, revealing their decoration. The swirls of sharp edges of their painted fur elicited a few 'oohs' and 'aahs' from dancers who hadn't seen the display up close. For one of the only times that night, Molly felt exposed. Her arms crossed and held her bosom back from the gleeful gang.

Fate intervened, rescuing Molly via the buzz of her phone as Cade responded to her message. She grabbed it from her bag — plopped haphazardly on a nearby table. The sheer brightness of the screen blinded her, the room turning pale white as it came alive. With a quick 'yeesh' and a brightness-adjustment later, she read his message. Ever the saviour, he informed her that he was ready to pick his beleaguered girlfriend up and drive her home.

Her head began to sting. The small creeping pain annoyed her.

Thank God I have an out!

“Sorry guys," she lamented as the lights turned on, “I'd love to stay and celebrate, but I gotta get home!"

“Dressed like that!?" someone said. “Nice."

Molly glanced at her work-mates. They were getting rowdier. As much as she'd love to wreck shop with the girls (and boys), her bed cried out for her weary bones.

Her wonderful...soft...bed...

“No, not like—" Molly looked around. “I gotta pop back to my changing room."

With a parting smile, she left her friends and colleagues but one command:

“Get wasted for me, okay?"

* * *

The drive home as late in the night turned to early morning, with the first peek of sunlight cresting the canopy of trees that ran alongside the road, was quiet. One could say serene.

Molly rested, her head propped against the car seat as her designated driver dutifully scoured the road for any hazards. With the time of day being what it was, there was nothing to be concerned about. Empty asphalt spread out in a straight line, the road markings faded in parts.

With only the hum of the engine and the incessant crackle and grind of the wheels on hard road, she drifted in-and-out of sleep. Cade had stuck around, saving her the fee for a taxi. There was nothing free in life, however. The price he extracted, she had a feeling would be a little more steep...

She was awoken by a remark from her boyfriend. She didn't quite hear it, and mumbled for him to repeat as she opened her tired eyes.

“I said: you're smiling a lot, must be something good you're dreaming."

“Oh, yeah..." she murmured, “thinking 'bout how to repay you for doing me a solid. I didn't know it, but I had an inkling they'd try to ply me with booze afterwards!"

“Ah," he said, warmth emanating from his words, “you know you can count on me."

“More than I thought," she whispered.

“Hmm?"

“Nothing." Molly looked at the road ahead, seeing the first signs of the mixed suburbs hove into view. The dawn was still beginning, and its deep dark blue ruled the skies. The black outlines of buildings far away and their approximate size meant another half-hour before they reached the city limits.

Now she looked at Cade, who bit his lip. She could tell there was some consternation. Not a lot, but some. What did he want to ask?

He noticed her staring, and coughed to clear his throat.

“That was, uh, cool — what you did with the lights and your makeup."

“Yeah," she sighed. “It's gonna be a bitch to clean though, so no sneaking around with one of those freaky flashlights to shine on my ass!"

“But that's one of your best attributes," he joked. “Now I know why you earn so much. Never been to a strip club before but I'll hazard a guess that isn't what they're like most of the time."

Molly mouthed the word 'nope' as they shared a split-second glance. They turned back into their seats, seatbelts flexing over their chest and shoulder. “You haven't lived, Cade."

“Ouch!"

She hummed fondly. “Oh shush, and let me have this. I can be boring during the day. Let me be a wild thing a little longer."

Her hand found its way across the gulf to Cade, running the length of his chest. “This part of being a wild thing?" Cade asked. “Feeling up the driver?"

She leaned over, and snapped her teeth inches from his ear. “Pull over."

The car slowed.

Cade tried to speak, but Molly planted a wet kiss on his cheek and he lost the will to resist. Despite their tiredness, and the start of a new day, the events of the night couldn't be shaken. Nor could the emotions it birthed. The feelings it stirred...

Pulling in, they found a part of the roadside that was secluded enough park in. As the engine died with the withdrawal of Cade's keys, the sound of seatbelts unclipping rang out. Molly dove at him, embracing him and kissing him frantically. He fought in kind, dealing the same passion her direction.

Her hands explored him. Sinking to his waist and abdomen. She felt the flush of heat consume him; the rising lust. They wanted each other. After much interruption in the past, they were able to at last consummate their love in the best way possible.

Their lips broke, and Molly stammered an apology for something she wasn't sure she needed to apologise for. “You trusted me," she said, “I know I told you what I'd end up doing...but it's a whole 'nother thing to actually go from talking about it to...to it."

Cade silenced her with a forceful kiss of his own. Together, they bailed out of the car on both sides, circling around to meet in the back seats. More room for them there, and not as chilly as outside could be for a fur-less creature like him.

They locked lips again. Molly felt the tightness of her blouse disappear as Cade slid it off her, raising her arms to let him take it off completely. With no bra on, her tits bounced in front of him, nipples hardening with the cold and the anticipation of their coupling. Her openness with Emily forgotten, its marks long expunged from her system, her body readied itself for another bout of pleasure.

She felt a hand travel up her skirt. Nibbling Cade's neck and cheek, she helped guide it to her exposed pussy; soaking the seat with its wetness. His fingers pushed inside, and an almighty bellow escaped Molly — her lungs expelling as much air as possible and drowning out the sounds of their foreplay with her animal moan. The saccharine squelch of finger among damp fold tossed them both into a spiral of escalation. Both Molly and Cade grunted and groaned as their bodies were mutually explored.

Cade still wore most of his clothes. The only exception (if you can call it that) were the handful of burst buttons that littered the floor, its comrades still binding his shirt together against all odds. Too impatient to do any further damage to her boyfriend's ensemble, Molly loosened his belt-buckle and slid a hand underneath his boxers. There, the firm mass of his cock dwelt, ready for her. Her soft palm held it in place while her fingers coiled around it, suffocating it in a shroud of smooth fur. As her hard fingertips dug into her palm, she began to pump — stroking her lover's shaft gently at first, then building in pace as they kissed.

The clank of his loose belt their only music, Cade ran his hands through his girlfriend's chest-fur. Their mouths sopping and stuck together, their bodies pressing close...her grip around his manhood causing him to tense up on each downward stroke and loosen with its opposite. She was hungry. Hungry for a human like him. He grabbed and massaged her breasts, feeling their weight and swollen nubs shaking in tune with the shivers he elicited from the rest of her body. Her body shifted; she leaned back — the string of spit between them breaking no more than a foot between well-exercised lips. Her top half lay bare, coaxed into pleasant feelings by his ministrations on her breasts. Her thighs flanked his, and her skirt draped over his waiting cock.

Slowly...surely...she inched forward, holding herself above him.

They stared into each other's eyes for a long time, waiting for just the right time to take the other's breath away.

At last, Molly braced her hooves on the front seat and lowered herself down upon him. Cade felt her left hand hold him erect against her approaching entrance. The air turned to steam as they breathed and the temperature of the dormant car fell. Her mouth hung open, quivering ever-so-slightly, as they came closer and closer to the most intimate contact.

Cade gasped as the first inch of her warm flesh swallowed his tip. Gradually, she opened up to him — her swollen lips consuming his cock. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy. She bore down on him, letting her weight settle atop his body, pinning him to the seat. A coarse, churlish moan boomed as she sought to capture as much pleasure for herself. Cade wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him, as her nether-lips kissed the base of his shaft.

Revelling in the loud, whorish moans she made, Cade pushed his hips forward and plunged himself to the hilt, causing the larger hybrid to seize up. Now he could help control the pace, and started pumping his hips in a steady rhythm, leaving Molly to bask in their ecstasy. She held her arms out, either side of his head, and grabbed hold of the seat, steadying herself.

Happy he was receptive, she moved on her own, matching the in-and-out push of his cock to slide over his rigid flesh with her damp innards. The sensitive walls of her vagina closed around his dick, requiring more and more force to penetrate. This drove them into a frenzy of thrusting. Very soon she was taking control again, slamming her hips against his groin, riding him rough and hard.

Molly sensed a change in his tactics. Bolts of pleasure shot through her as he pinched her nipples, digging into the chocolate-brown flesh and rolling the fat nubs between his fingers. Her breasts bounced and shook as she rutted him. Their carefree quaking aiding the pleasure running through her.

As she was taller, whenever she held herself close to him her head rose above his, which merely nuzzled her neck as the onslaught continued. Her horns prodded the car roof, not enough to damage it, but she was mindful of her enhanced size compared to when she was human. A back-seat quickie had a great deal more logistics involved now that she was a post-human hybrid. Her hooves dug into the driver's seat behind her, slotting into any nook or cranny she could find to prop herself and her gyrating hips. Her ass kissed the leather backing every time her hips rose to the peak of their cycle, cheeks grazing the sleek black material and causing a small amount of friction. No such problem existed when she came slamming down on her man! No, then her wide ass shook joyously, its plump shape rippling with exertion. She wanted to scream. To bleat or bray like an animal — unchained by civilised society. Her instincts roared at her to surrender, to lose herself...to take her mate and fuck his brains out!

Now that was an intrusive thought she could agreed with!

Their pace continued to speed up. Cade grunted as he felt his body resist Molly's pounding but becoming more and more drained in the process. He rubbed and stroked her breasts, worshipping her bosom...her curves. He would sometimes change the target of his affection — switching to the broad, bulging rear that jiggled with every painful yet pleasurable slam of her hips, or the perky tuft of her tail as it twitched atop her ass. The fury grew with each passing second...the battle for control...

“Graagh!" he exclaimed as he grit his teeth and renewed his efforts.

Molly cried out as her worked her harder and harder, trying to dominate with her own intense motions. “Aah-aahh!"

Rocking back-and-forth, the whole car creaked. It had started slow, but now you might be forgiven for thinking the car was springing into the air on its rear axle. The wheel-hubs almost smacked into the tire-rubber with the force of Molly's bounding. The whole rear end of the vehicle shifted, minute slides left and right tearing up the dust and soil of the roadside, transformed into shifting sands by the grind of its occupants.

Inside, their intense fucking was tiring the pair. It was a matter of minutes before one or both of them gave up the ghost. Until then, however, both plied their best moves on one another, wordlessly expressing their desire, no...craving for their lover.

Cade was first to lose control. Underneath Molly's powerful body, he felt his muscles spasm and his legs buckle. He erupted deep inside her, blasting her with ropes of seed. A handful of stammering unintelligible words were her herald, the new warmth within her the final proof of his climax. Molly kept moving, even as streams of cum slimed their way out between her nether-lips, coating Cade's shaft with sticky love juice mixed with her own inner concoctions. The wet smack of her body against his grew wetter. She sensed his expiration, but he did not yet soften. So Molly maintained her pace, the wild rocking of the car and the groan and moan of her human pinned beneath her unabated.

It took her a while longer to reach her own orgasm. One last great heave and she collapsed on top of him, speared by his spent cock to its hilt. She moaned loudly, sharing Cade's relief as waves of blissful abandon overtook her addled mind. Wave upon wave, wrenching her out of her sexual fury. Still clasping the back seat, Molly felt the seams split, and the leather disintegrate under her strength. Her hands ripped open the seat and tore into its padding as they balled into rock-hard fists. She braced herself as her orgasm rippled through her, drenched in endorphins. Her large, lanky body coiled around Cade, the odd shiver a sign that there were still errant sparks crackling 'mong her nerves.

“I...ahhhh..."

She looked around, seeing the fogged-up windows to her left and right, then her eyes returned to Cade, who buried his face in her chest. The subtle tingle in her nipples remained as she put a hand behind his head and held him there, smothering him in her curves.

Thirty seconds passed and Cade was free again, breathing hurriedly. After noticing the damage to the car on either side of his head he merely sighed, too well-fucked to give a shit. “You can pay for repairs to my car later Molls," he said.

“Deal! Just let me...ah...let me catch my breath..."

* * *

Early morning wind gently wafted through the trees. The crack of branch underfoot echoing through the canopy. An hour had passed since their back-seat rut. They'd left the car and wandered into the greenery, taking in the forest's natural beauty. Listening to the birds chirp; the multitudinous musicians of the dawn chorus nesting in the forest fringe.

A silhouette filtered through the trees, striding with confidence. The earth damp beneath their feet. Soil cushioning the strong hoof-falls. Foliage crumpled, errant branches snapping 'gainst the weight of the interloper.

Molly walked through leafy undergrowth, breathing in clean air. Refreshed and invigorated.

A small distance away, Cade sat. The moss-eaten log solid enough to take his weight. He brushed his jacket, closed his eyes, and listened to the peaceful sounds.

Each crack or rustle of Molly's steps reached him, and he let them transport his soul. To a lost time. A simpler time. The shiver of foliage as it responded to his girlfriend's passing enough to sate his tired heart. A lot had happened last night. And he churned inside. Processing things.

Green glades, flower-rich, filled his mind as she returned. Low shrubs parted as the nude hybrid made her entrance. Her fur shone in the dawn light. Like a creature of legend; human and non-human, enticing a weary traveller into her forest realm. The breeze passed over her, catching on the longer parts of her fur and tossing them about. Unlike her observer, she walked without shame. Her prize form on show.

Cade hadn't summoned the courage to go without clothes. He wasn't there yet. Give her some time, thought the gentle woodland goddess, and she'd remove his inhibitions.

He sat in awe of her. She turned to her side, her ass and tail wiggling as she walked, and circled the small clearing. Strolling around and around, making him lust after her — his desire renewed.

Her words broke the peace.

“Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Cade felt the air shake with the dense clomp of hoof on sodden earth. He let his gaze linger on her sumptuous body, from horn to hoof he admired her figure — her poise, her elegance...and her sex appeal. Those curves couldn't contain themselves. Not onstage, not offstage. And certain not after their antics. With no-one else around, he was free to stare and she was free to tease.

“My phone's back at the car," he answered sheepishly.

The graceful hybrid paused, fingers making long strokes down form her neck to the cleft of her bosom.

“Not gonna get it?"

He laughed. “I already did."

She grinned at his bawdy remark, showing her supple ass as she walked away. A handful of steps from the clearing, she stopped, and basked in his adoration.

“You have my clothes?" she asked, at last tiring of their jaunt into the woods.

“Yeah, here..."

Cade picked up a smattering of spare clothes they had brought from the car and held them out for Molly. She trotted over and took them from him, putting on a show of wiggling her hips as she pulled her skirt up. Dressing herself, she got assistance from Cade when it came time to navigate her blouse past her horns. Those six-inch spears could wreak havoc on textiles if you weren't careful! Cade helped her out, manoeuvring his aid into a hug after his task was done.

They held each other. Time passed around them, but it felt like an age.

Molly followed the flow of Cade's body. Her hands rolled over his shoulders and draped down to the base of his spine. Part-pudgy, part muscled. An altogether average build. She sighed as she embraced him, feeling his head rest against her breasts. The myriad vestiges of their coupling had faded, and she lacked his warmth inside her. As she sensed his breathing, and let his hands settle on the cusp of her ass, fingertips buried in the soft fur of her tail as they flanked it, she knew she wouldn't have it any other way.

It was fun to toy with the idea of a macho hunk, super-sculpted and down to fuck. Not him. She wouldn't trade that for him. She was happy to have Cade, and he seemed more than happy to be with her. They liked each other — more than sexual partners seeking a quick tryst.

She would hate to trade that away for fleeting fancy. Unless...

...nah! It was a stupid thought...

Unless, she joked to herself, she convinced him to join her.

“You're smiling," Cade mumbled, his speech as groggy as his face. He planted a kiss on her exposed cleavage, fur tickling his cheeks.

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking."

“About what?" he asked, staring up at her face.

“How much more fun we could have if you were a big buff antelope like me."

“You can just pretend I am. Close your eyes and picture—"

“A handsome hybrid..." she said, her voice trailing off.

“Hey — you saying I'm not handsome?" His hand, that once stroked her soft behind, switched to a sudden pinch and grab, startling her.

Molly exhaled. “You could always be more handsome."

He smiled at her. “And that would be the way, in your eyes?" He paused, adjusting their embrace. “I'm not opposed to the idea. But it can wait."

She snorted, which turned into a chuckle. “Geez! You sound like Vi."

They laughed as the morning sun bleached the tree-tops, finally scouring away the last trace of the muddy dark.

“Sorry," Molly said after a long silence, “I think I need to go to bed."

“That's right." Cade led her back to the car. “We should head home."

“Yours or mine?"

“Considering mine is a lot smaller and overflowing with reams of my student's college work, is that really a valid question?"

“Heh. Won't you have everything ready for work today?"

“Molly," he said softly, “it's the weekend. Your show was Friday night."

“Oh crap," she exclaimed, “I really need some sleep!"

They approached the car. Molly looked away and admitted she felt a little bashful for making those kinds of comments about him. Cade just laughed.

“Molly...Molls...you just walked through a forest naked, hours after a giant cosplay hunt routine which included lesbian fucking someone on a huge stage in front of...I dunno, hundreds of people? In between that you found time for a second round of hot sex, this time of the straight variety, in the back seat of my car. You don't seriously think you should be embarrassed about letting your mind wander?"

“Look at you," Molly cooed, “able to make words good." The last fragment of her sentence slurred itself across several syllables as she leaned on Cade for support, her body surrendering to the idea of some shut-eye.

“Yup, you definitely need to go to bed! C'mon babe...let's go home..."