Where Minds Lay: Temporal Spectrum Part 1
#5 of Where Minds Lay
--A day in Dreya's life, then on to the club. Something's always going on at the club.---
Where Minds Lay:
Temporal Spectrum Prt. 1
Screee-doop-dah-ba-di-doo.
My ears fold and retreat from the horrid sound of my alarm clock playing techno beats. The morning aren't shiny and pleasant. My mornings are nocturnal; and, instead of the tweeting birds I've read about in fiction, welcoming sounds of the despicable grind-machine of the city treat my ears everyday.
I throw a paw out to firmly smack the snooze on that brick of plastic and numbers. Then my eyes scan the time it tells. I vaguely remember setting it for three hours before work. That gives me time to meditate, loosen up and exercise, and eat a conservative meal, i.e. some dried wafers soaked in steaming flavored soup. With a depressed society comes depressing food. We eat something that is affordable and healthy-enough. The ones with money can eat whatever they want. I figure as long as I don't know how truly good that tastes, I won't be missing out on anything.
When I sit up, the bottom of my ass makes a wail of pain to my brain. Then my brain reminds me to take easy because we did so-and-so last night. Even my own brain makes me feel like a freaking whore.
Dressed in boxers, I trudge around the house as I do all my hygienic stuff. I like to break out of the stereotype that all whores are infested with disease and can never be clean. Don't get me wrong. I've seen some flee infested sluts before. I just don't have to be one of them. It's a good feeling to take a bath everyday.
The shower is my next stop after teeth. I scrub extra hard at my rear end, lifting my tail for the application. My own touch makes me wince a little. I hope this doesn't interfere with my shows tonight.
After drying off, I move to the kitchen and grab a small cup of soupy wafers. A note from Jav is stuck on the fridge, but I don't worry about reading it. It's funny how he thinks I give a damn where he goes or what happens to him. My gator roommate is such a strange individual. He rapes me one night, and says sorry the next day, not very apologetically mind you. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his own mind all is forgiven. No, it's quite different here in reality-central. I haven't, and never will forgive him. I just can't do anything back to him, for now. If there were something I could do... I might have already done it by now, with the exception of my gift. The promise forbids its use, and the promise keeps that last piece of me.
The club was jumping when I arrived earlier. Now, I'm taking over some drink duty to relieve the waiters. They work about as hard as the dancers do. This also is what a dancer could consider a smoke break. Since I don't smoke, they give me pill break. Pills get frowned upon by Fred, but I make amends by volunteering and helping the waiters. Everybody can be happy. I know I am.
It's critical I get my own special meds before the next shift of the day. Backroom Duty. More commonly called "The Rear Room" because of it being notoriously known for rear-quarters sliding, shaking, jiggling, and sometimes touching paying clients. For some of the less popular, they get a break in between. But it's different for me, and two others, Hissem and Leritle. The three of us are usually booked, while the "Rear Room" is suppose to be a "pay for it when you get here" exchange.
I look down, very carefully balancing a tray of three drinks, to see the job-mandatory pills still working their magic. The two different doses are mixing well by the way every specie's voice inflates and deflates in the vast room. A smirk spreads over my lips, and I bet the glancing eyes see my red-tinted, heavy eyes. That sight combined with the rest of me, scantily clad in a chain mail top-decorative on the surface but fitted with a soft layer underneath- and a raggedy fishnet skirt draped over my foxhood, leaves me in the spot light. Heads turn, gazes left no where to go but on me, all of me.
A very overweight squirrel reclines his head back when I'm about to pass him. His tongue hangs when his eyes catch me, and I merely smirk and hood my eyes just a little for the drunkard. My tail flicks out of his reach when I leave him behind.
The table of three finally comes into view. Two wolves and a horse talking to each other turn to catch sight of me. I sit the tray down and act as if I'm trying to figure out what in the world they are looking at, but it's obvious.
"Hey, sweety, you wanna' sit in my lap over here?" The wolf furthest away in the middle speaks to me. His tongue wets his chops, never taking his yellow eyes off me. I smile and stare at him a moment. He eventually leans his chair back, his spread knees teetering upwards and his crotch becoming the focal point of his body.
"Brad, don't be offensive," the other wolf says. He had a red jacket and sat pretty close to my left. If it were Brad, I think his paw would be up my skirt and on my ass.
"Yeah, Brad. This place just lifted your suspension last week," the horse this time, laughing at my other side. He probably found the suspension funny before and more than likely would again. Brad checks the horse with a passive glare and hooded eyes. The red coat looks up at me.
"I'm sorry for my friend, really. We know the policy of verbal harassment and we'll be sure to keep him quiet."
"You can't keep me quiet, goody-two-shoes," Brad says. His ears lay back as he leans towards Red Coat. My ears twitch at the sound of a deep growl. I turn and glance back at a bull, a special bull with a black shirt about to bust from the bulking muscle underneath it. He's so far away and looking around, but I keep watching him until his eyes turn to make contact with mine. That's all the signal I need. His eyes are now where else but on my area, where a confrontation might happen.
I didn't intend to go blab on Brad's comments. I'm rather flattered, but I can tell the wolf has a temper that needs attention. The one next to me, after a moment, turns to acknowledge Brad's anger.
"Do it," Red Coat says in cryptic voice to Brad. He returns the same look, but doesn't have to growl. The conviction sends a thrill through me. He merely looks on Brad, who knows something I don't about Red Coat because he slowly sits back. I take the time to finish unloading the drinks, trying to look unaffected by the situation. I'm really used to it by now.
I turn to leave, but a paw grabs my arm. It's Red Coat.
"I apologize for my friend. We didn't mean to be-"
"Is there a problem?" the deep, but audible voice interrupts the wolf. I don't know if Adam, the bull in black, started making his way to my table earlier or just manifested out of thin air. I know that he does it every time. And no one ever catches him. For a bull his size, you would think you could here the damn guy coming your way. Hell, I'm surprised I don't feel his mere presence approaching.
"No, Adam," I say loudly enough to be heard over the music. "Their alright. This wolf has everything under control." I look back on Red Coat. "Right?" I wait briefly for his answer.
"Yes, sir. No trouble here," the wolf replies. His eyes unmoving and honest, something I don't see very often in this kind of place.
"Don't make me come back," Adam says to him. The way he voices his words bring my thoughts back to Red Coat's stare down on Brad. I try to think who would win that, and then I envisioned the violent brawl that would ensue. Then I felt my special pills give me an extra jolt, and a warm wetness slides down my length.
I immediately take a deep breath, which is bad because the whole room smells of arousal. There is a scent buffer mixed into our meds, but it isn't as strong when I have the other pills in my system.
The room is trying to spin, and my heat is rising uncontrollably. I'm panting through my mouth, trying to avoid any air rushing through my nose. I can't smell them. They'll drive me nuts, and I'll blow. Then I will definitely be fired.
I put a paw on Adam's chest to get balance.
"You okay?" I shake my head, feeling like I've ran a million miles in a sexathon.
"N...no." Huff... huff... "I need to... get air." With that, he helps me to the door and helps me leave.
"Take a minute. I'll cover for you if Jeff comes lookin'." I lean against the brick building, feeling the hard surface and enjoying the stability.
"Thanks, Adam, you're the best," I say with a little more breath than before. My cock is aching between my legs, and my paws firmly attach themselves to the wall. Closing my eyes, I envision some un-arousing things. The promise and the control are both devastating and horrible, but I stray from that because for some reason the power tempts me every time, no matter how much I hate it. Thinking about last night isn't helping either, making me steer away from the thoughts like a desperate driver with no where to go. Even though I think Jav is attractive, I hate him so much for abusing me. I hate how he just goes on like he owns me, disrespecting and mistreating me.
The anger makes that stiff erection calm down some. My breath is more relaxed, and I end up feeling a lot better. My legs are feeling up to the task of moving around, and my paws finally stop digging into the rough brick wall. A few more breathers and I should be up to going back in. I notice through some of the passer-by's on the street a lone figure standing and starring at me. The hooded creature looms at the corner across from me, existing apart from all that goes on around the both of us. Somehow, I speculate that he thinks we are similar in that disconnection from everyone else right now. It brings a cold shiver, and I turn away.
I get back inside before I think anything else about the strange stalker. He makes me even more worried than usual.