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Gothica 2: Hunger And Hunger

Let's say you're a guy. And since this is a furry story, let's say you're a fox; partly because foxes are cute and mainly inoffensive, but partly because foxes aren't as big as that coyote who barged into the bar and plunked himself down beside you. You only came for a beer after work, but he decided that you're his wingman; distract his target's friends for him while he seduces her, he said, maybe you can get the pick of his left-overs. You've never met this jerk before in your life! And the mouth on the guy; fuck this, bitch that and pussies, pussies, pussies... You'd think he had a thing for feline girls!

And what's worse, he hadn't been there ten minutes before he got attention; the wrong kind! She's a vampire bat; her fur is dark blue with a pale blue tummy and pale blue streaks on her underwings. She has large, pointy ears, small, deep-blue eyes and a cute, turned-up nose. You've seen her before; her name's Dominica, she hangs around this bar. She has a reputation for going home with anything in pants and some things out of them.

So naturally, she sat next to you! Well that didn't please Commander Yiff at all. He was leaning in your face to get to her, giving you none-too-subtle hints that you should go fuck yourself now. But when you gladly tried to leave, Dominica grabbed your hand and plunked you down on her far side. (And without half trying; she's a bit chubby, but she's strong!) You just had to watch her and the yiff hound sip their beers towards the inevitable conclusion. Since it didn't include you, that was about as much fun as a hangover. Then she said something that almost made you bolt!

"Say, why don't you both come up to my place? I bet two old buddies like you have shared a girl lots of times. I know I'd love it! I've never been... you know, shared before." And she whispered something to the coyote that made him sneer at you.

"If that's the way you want it babe," he said. "I'll try fuckin' anything once!"

So here you are back at her place, watching the two of them making out and wishing you were back at work, or anywhere but here! This Dominica has the weirdest décor you've ever seen. Her bed's on the ceiling, (which figures for a bat), and she has another bed on the floor just for... for what she's doing with that coyote now. There's a whole rack of vibrators and dildoes nearby, some of which look more like deadly weapons! There's a chest under that, and some of the stuff she's pulled out of it, you wish you didn't have to think about. The weirdest thing is curled-up over in the corner. At first you thought it was an otter guy, but he hasn't moved since you got here. It has to be one of those inflatable lovers you hear about. It's a damned good one, very realistic.

If only you could concentrate on him instead of... them! But she's proving to be a noisy lover and she has you sitting where you can't help but look. She doesn't have any inhibitions that you've noticed. He's had her in sixty nine different positions, including sixty nine; she's taken them all in stride. His manner's been abusive, disrespectful and rude by turns. At first you wondered if he really thinks his attitude is sexy; then you figured he must be turning himself on and he only cares that it's not turning her off; but finally you've realized that he... and she, are doing it to bug you! They keep looking at you, snickering and he gets even worse. And no, he hasn't made any least gesture towards actually sharing her with you. And you can't leave, either. The only way out is straight down. They've got you real good!

Right now he's humping her tail hole from in front. She's on her back, holding his butt cheeks in her odd, squirrelly feet. She's grunting with his thrusts, but it can't be hurting her that much; just guessing from her reputation, she's probably used to it.

He's not being rude otherwise, just now; he's pumping like mad and breathing too hard to talk. Not that you care, but he's been having a hard time catching his breath for a while now. He must be getting tired. Well poor baby! Yet he's humping and pumping her tail hole like his life depends on it! At least he's having fun, too bad you're not! (And the truth is, this really is turning you on. Just the smell is doing things to you. Parts of your body that are actually starting to hurt!)

And now he's coming, grinding himself against her ass. He's trying to howl between pants; it must be a heckuva... never mind. He's fallen onto his back, trying to pull out of her, gasping for breath. She's trying to get still more action out of him. She probably knows that canines can swivel that way and do it ass-to-ass. But he's clearly out of it for now; she lets go of him. Make that for a while; he looks like he's in pretty good shape, he should be catching his breath by now, but he's not. But look at the boner on him! He's just come good and hard, his dick should be pulling back into it's pod, but it's still as stiff as a stick! There's something wrong here. He senses it too, he's pawing at it gingerly. He's hurting, more than you are.

But Dominica isn't through with him. She's got a basin of water, soap and a wash cloth handy. She washes his stiffy; understandable, you know where it's been. She dries it with a fresh towel. And now she's taking a bottle of something out of the chest... Whatever she's pouring over his dick, it smells like plenty of alcohol! It's stinging him, you can tell from his expression. But he's still panting too hard to talk, he can only whimper; he looks weak!

"Hey, are you okay there?"

He looks at you, his face is pleading; he's in trouble! You turn to Dominica, your mouth open to tell her there's something wrong... but the words freeze in your mouth as you look at hers. She's giving him an open-mouthed grin and her fangs -- they're growing. Oh God, she's not just a vampire bat, she's really undead! And she's crouching over him... he's whining, panting, terrified... he yelps... oh God, his poor cock! He tries to pull away, he doesn't have much strength... it only hurts him more. He looks at you again.

"...help me..." he pants.

But you look at her and she's so strong, supernatural, what can you do?

"...fuckin'... faggot... help me..."

You come to his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He bares his teeth, but you know he can't hurt you any more.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a cross or a stake or anything! There's nothing I can do!" (He tries to growl.) "Getting me killed wouldn't save you..." You turn to Dominica. "Would you take my life instead of his?"

"...goodz dead now..." she mutters around his cock.

"...fuckin'... faggot..." he pants.

The fur around his eyes is getting damp, now. His pants turn to sobs. He glares at you for watching him cry, but it's only now that you feel any sympathy for him. You take his head in your arms. He calls you a faggot again, but you know he doesn't mean it. He's just scared. So are you; he's dying right here in your arms and there's not a damned thing you can do about it! You pet his ears.

"...can't see..." he murmurs; he can barely even pant now. "...just grey..."

Then he whines a little. You look; she's pulled her fangs out. But even now, slowly bleeding, he's still got a stiffy; she must be doing that to him. She steps over and mounts him; he whines again. She leans over and pushes you back with a hand to your stomach; not hard at all, but she puts you out of her way just the same. He whimpers; he's terrified.

"You're smart not to interfere," she tells you. "Now give me some room, my foxy. As for you," she tells the coyote, "you have one more morsel to feed me before you leave this life!"

She's humping him now, thrusting herself onto his erection. She's kissing his mouth, deeply, lingering, reaching a hand towards his face...

"No, don't... don't!"

She covers his nose with her thumb. He can't breathe, he's struggling. No, he's convulsing from oxygen starvation! His whole body's quivering, his hips bucking... she made him come one more time! You can see despair in his face... Maybe you just imagined it. He's not moving any more, not even shaking. You just watched him die. And she's still kissing his dead lips. She's spreading her wings, covering you all. It's dark here, though your eyes adapt quickly and you see her in shadow...

Something silvery is oozing from his body, straight into hers, like she's sucking it out of him somehow. Her underwings are glowing faintly blue. The silvery stuff is alive somehow, struggling, losing again. She folds her wings as the last of it disappears into her. But she bites his neck, then inside his thighs, before she finally lies down beside him, stroking her stomach happily. Look at him. You thought he was dead before, but somehow he's even deader now; empty! Dominica is licking her lips.

"You're mistaken to mourn for him," she says. "He was evil, like me. Mmmm! His blood was sweet with self-interest!" She sighs happily. "He's the best meal I've had in months. He might very well have been a psychopath." She looks over him at you. "The world is better without him. He meant it when he called you names, he'd gladly have sacrificed your life to save his own." She sinks back to the bed behind him. "The same way that I knew that you really were offering your life to save his; yes, I can see into your mind." She sighs a long, contented sigh. "But I have better plans for you, my foxy!"

She rises slowly to her knees. She picks up the coyote's body in her arms as easily is if he were a stuffed toy, spreading her wings behind her for balance. She takes him to the corner and puts him down at the otter's feet.

"There's no life force left in either of these bodies," she says. "They won't start to putrefy too soon, there's no rush to dispose of them." She lifts the otter's head and nuzzles the mouth. "He was such a sweet lover! He did his best to satisfy me and never even realized that I was killing him until the end. Even then, he gave himself to me. I was actually fond of him. I made his death pleasant and let his soul go unmolested."

"But you killed him just the same."

"I'm a hunter. I live by taking life from others, just as your primitive kind ate mice and rabbits." She kisses the dead otter's nose. "His blood wasn't very tasty. I only drained it all to keep him from rotting too soon." She looks down and scritches the coyote's belly. "Not like him! Go ahead and try, I won't hold it against you."

You know what she means. You were thinking about all the stuff in her love chest. You crawl over the bed to get to it. She gets up and paces slowly towards you.

There are things in the chest that you'd rather not think about; you don't think about them, you only have seconds to find a weapon... like that package of hardwood dowels! You break it open and take one, no, three out. One you put on the edge of the chest and lean with all your might; it snaps raggedly, giving you a sharp point. The other two you hold in your fingers and turn into a rough cross. You hold it up at her frantically, the improvised stake ready in your other hand.

"In the name of the father... uh... the son and the holy ghost, I command you, be gone and never bother any mortal again... Ow!"

She snatches the dowels from your hands and tosses them aside. She chuckles and shakes her head as she bends over you. "A stake in the heart, even if you managed it, would only hurt and make me cross," she says, as she takes your jaw in her hand and gently lifts it towards her face. "Garlic gives me gas," she adds, as she kisses your nose. "I take scotch with Holy Water." She kisses your nose again. "No, I can't digest an immortal soul. But I can torment it as it passes through me and rob it of energy." She strokes your nose leather with her own. "His greatest torment now is that I'm with you." She nuzzles your mouth. "How lucky for you that I won't be hungry for weeks after that blood meal!" She nips your cheek, slowly licks and nuzzles her way to your ear. "When I saved you for dessert, my foxy, I meant you to satisfy a different hunger! A hunger that good men can slake better than evil. Slake my desire," she whispers, as she takes the base of your ear under her fang, "and I'll make sure you enjoy it, too. Don't resist, accept my lust, and I'll let you live!" and she slowly bites your ear. "I'll show you what those dowels are really for!"

You hear yourself whimper as her fang pierces your ear. You know what you have to do to live. You feel her in your mind, waiting; you start to cry as you relax, let go, let her in. She lets you weep; you need to. Of all the horrors you've been through today, surrendering to her will is the worst. She's inside you, make you do things, feel things, want things! Not resisting is a mental struggle, especially scared to death!

She lets you weep, but she doesn't waste time making dessert of you. You start to crave her lips, her mouth. You let her slip a butt plug into you as you lick her teeth, suck, encourage her to plunge her tongue into you. She needs little encouragement. Her tongue is very long; she licks to the back of your mouth, tickles your throat. She doesn't let you gag. You try to swallow. The butt plug starts to vibrate; your cock rises quickly. Her tongue still tastes of coyote blood. The taste reminds you of something, someone you need to remember, who came here with you... but you came with her! Relax, let her in, let her have her way with you... very important... because that's why you wanted to come with her. Just you and her, and... lust! You love how she makes you feel. Lust so strong it makes you weep. Just you and her... and... and nothing else matters....."

Copyright © 2004 Allan D. Burrows, All Rights Reserved.