Enraptured
Not the most sex-centric story in the world, more something to introduce an old character of mine. Indira is indeed Mahiri's mother, and they don't remain apart forever in my 'canon'.
She looked just like the poster. In his bedroom, among bands and surreal art, there had always been the one poster, no more than the recreation of an old artist's rendition, somewhat precariously tucked away so as not to look like too much the focal point. The blue tigress, her hair silken and black, her eyes fierce and violet, her history that of which few spoke. It was with admiration that he had always seen her image there, on his wall each day, dreaming of what he'd say if he ever ran into her. And there, walking swiftly ahead of him in the silence of the night, was she. It had to be her.
So he followed. Kamili didn't consider himself much of a threat. He was a young hyena, still a little thin at the shoulders but pretty firm all around, his hips carrying a strange curve to them. Much about him fulfilled the stereotype of feminine male hyena, but if he were to be mistaken for a female, he would be a particularly toned and rippled one, the way his muscle was layered over his lean, nimble body. Strong, yes, but also gentle of eye and soft of muzzle - he certainly wasn't as intimidating a member of his species as some others he could think of. And so he kept his pace high, trying to let her know that he wanted to catch up.
Could it truly be? She would be much older than the last known photograph had shown, but striding there before him was a tigress fit and limber as history had known her twenty years ago. He could see it in the spring of her step, as if she might go streaking up the side of a building at any moment. And while his cherished poster portrayed her in silk sari, the feline before him could have been mistaken for a college student, with hooded sweater and lightly torn jeans. After some time, she raised the hood and seemed to speed up. He wasn't sure.
This was going to be a mistake. Whether he caught her or not, he was going to end up explaining to some unimpressed police officer why he'd been stalking a young girl in the darkest of nights. It wasn't like there was only one blue-furred tigress in the world. But if it was her... the tigress of his admiration, he simply could not let such an opportunity pass by. And so he went a little faster himself, trying not to seem like he was chasing her, but closing the distance gradually.
He would call out to her. That would work. If she turned around, he would know whether he was mistaken or not, and then they both could go on their way without any further discomfort. He was going to do just that with raised paw when she was simply gone. She did not dart away, leap into the skyline, nothing of the sort. There simply was no longer anyone in front of him, and the streets were silent.
Kamili stood and let the wind rustle his mane. The cold grip of a lingering winter that just did not want to let go chilled his skin. He paced back and forth, and he looked out across the street, where streetlights winked at him. A lone car hummed by. There was nobody.
Times hadn't been the easiest lately. Perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing. The creation of a mind occupied with too much at once. It made more sense than suddenly spotting someone he'd admired since he was a boy out there in the street one night. He rubbed his muzzle and fluffed his mane, and then just shrugged, walking on. If she had been there, she was gone. And it was just like the great tigress he knew to simply vanish like that... the shadow in the night, the silent blade, the hidden danger. All these things, she'd been called, all of them beneath her.
The truth of it was that she was a killer. That was, the tigress on his wall. The one he thought he'd been pursuing. An exotic beauty from the far east, a dealer in death who would take every risk to spare innocent blood. And she always came through unnoticed, unharmed, and unstoppable. Indira Shirazi. The history books never used her name. She'd always been simply the assassin, there one day and then another simply gone, presumed dead. But there were those who knew of her as more than a footnote, and to Kamili's young mind, such beauty and grace in such a deadly body was the stuff of dreams.
Paws were upon him. Pacing to the side with back to a dark alley saw him seized and dragged into the near-blackness by a force overwhelming his strength and easily shoving him up against the dirty brick wall, shrill cackles of fright echoing from him. A gleam in the night accompanied a shrill ring, and then there was something pressed to his throat, which lay bare and exposed as he suddenly held himself very still. A blade. His fearful eyes caught a glimpse of violet, reflecting in the minimal moonlight, glaring into his face. It was her. It had to be her. And she was going to kill him.
"Child. Whoever has sent you thinks I will not harm you. Explain yourself. It will be so."
Her voice still held glimpses of her exotic heritage, a subtle spice that turned the ordinary into the slightly sultry. But this was no time to think about such things. Kamili simply whimpered and flattened his ears, trying very hard not to shake where he stood. It wasn't working. Every tremble brought the knife tickling against his skin, a twitch of a finger away from his death.
"What... oh god! I'm sorry, miss, I didn't..."
"No." She interrupted him firmly and powerfully. His voice stopped at once. "Your act means nothing. Tell me who sent you. You will be safe. I will see to it."
Kamili shuddered deeply, and stared wordlessly into the infinite purple that burned angrily into his gaze. He knew exactly what was going on. The fabled assassin, still hunted all these years later, wary of every person who drew near. He had no words. A whole boyhood of admiration for the dark, dangerous figure and now she would be his death.
"I'm sorry..." he murmured out, his voice broken and weak.
The tigress paused, and the threatening pressure that had been building on Kamili's throat came to pass. The blade remained, but it no longer held his life upon its edge. The eyes in the darkness stared into him. He felt as if naked, everything within him on display for the killer to know, old shames suddenly embarrassing despite she having no way of truly knowing them. Then the blade was taken away, and the hyena was released. He slumped to a seat against the wall, breathless and whimpering a little, not looking towards she who could have been his death.
"It seems I have made a mistake."
Everything she said had a cool, enrapturing quality to Kamili's ears. Even as he sat shaken by how close he'd been to oblivion, he could feel her charm sinking into his mind, making his body tingle. And even in such an inappropriate time, there was a hint of arousal to him.
Kamili couldn't rise. It wasn't so much that he didn't have the strength as he didn't have the will. He knew it was her, and he knew how quickly, how effortlessly she could kill someone - or at least he knew what he had read. To simply be in her presence was to be at her mercy.
"Please. Forgive an old cat. She remains jumpy at the sight of her own shadow."
A paw was offered to the frightened hyena, one he merely considered for a time. When he took it, he found she was able to heft him to his feet with hardly an effort. It wasn't that she was unnaturally strong, she simply knew all the right directions to pull, how to use his weight and momentum. And this was simply in the grasp of a paw.
Still shaky and hardly able to remain on his feet, Kamili gave his head a shake. "I'm so sorry, miss, I shouldn't have... it was stupid of me..."
It was deeply dark that night, but he could clearly see her cross her arms as she observed him. She never seemed to blink, or fidget, or even breathe. It was so that when she stood still, she became almost lifeless, a statue.
"Consider your carelessness adequately repaid, young sir. Now tell me... why do you follow?"
The question almost had the hyena blushing. It was made worse by the fact that she almost appeared to be smiling, in the same subtle, seductive way that she always did in the drawings of her.
"It's not what it looks like. Really. I just thought you might be... well, -are- you?"
She simply nodded, her arms still crossed. "It is as you believe. You are familiar with my history then. Should you not do the opposite of follow?"
Her charm was infectious. Kamili smiled, despite having moments ago stared death in the eye. Death being her.
"It's... well, it's stupid really. But I'm kind of a fan. Of yours. All the stories and the like..."
The tigress' brow furrowed. "A fan? A killer does not have fans. A killer has only those who dread her and hate her. Do not speak to me of this 'fan' business."
"I'm sorry, really... I'll, um, leave you alone if you want."
The tigress sighed and slowly raised her paw. Though she was the most dangerous thing Kamili knew, it was not a gesture with threat.
"There is no need for apology. You are young. A tad foolish." Her smirk darted onto her features for half a moment. "Tonight has not been your night. Come. We will speak over tea."
When she beckoned for him to follow, it was a sharp, insistent movement that he would not think twice of disobeying. He could feel the grit clinging to his coat as he peeled away from the wall, taking a moment to brush himself off, but not before wiping a single tear from his eye. Of all the people he could have met in such a dirtied, shaken state, it had to be she who he had dreamed of since his younger days.
The walk was quiet. Indira's slim body cut through the night, every movement one that had her ready to spring upon attackers unseen. Kamili watched with more than just the youthful attraction he felt. He could see in her the tension, the worry and readiness for those who might wish her harm. She was a beautiful creature, striking, bright, smooth, curved, but she was burdened by the old weight she carried from her past life. It was a long walk under flickering streetlights and hushed gusts of wind before the hyena said anything. He was shy, suddenly. It wasn't fear as before, but merely the apprehension with which he had always expected to talk to his hero - even if she did not wish to be called such.
"Are they still... um, well, after you?"
"No," she simply said, and nothing else. It was not until they had reached the front step of a building - an apartment building, to Kamili's surprise - that she elaborated. "I have spent the better part of two decades waiting, hiding, casting shadows over all that I do, and still I fear the day." Idly rolling her keys between her fingers, her mastery of blades evident in the precision of her idle movements, she sighed. "It is fortunate to have come across you this evening. I will be pleased for the company."
This was a side of her the young hyena had never considered. It had always been a somewhat childish preoccupation, the thoughts he had of her. He had cast aside the darker tones of her tale merely to admire her as the graceful one worthy of song. It wasn't that she killed that made her special to him. It was more the legend, the stories, the overall glory that she seemed to represent. Not until now had he ever really considered the weight of it. A weight she still carried.
"It's, um, my pleasure, Miss Shirazi."
That got him silenced with a raised finger.
"Speak my name quietly, if you please."
Kamili nodded politely and followed her through the entrance hall of her building. It wasn't a dirty or run-down place, but he had always imagined her living in some sort of extravagant mansion, stretched out on silk pillows in one of those fine saris she was always depicted in. Stretched out, yes... now that she was here with him, those silly adolescent thoughts he'd had of her in years past felt as if they were worn on his sleeve.
The apartment was not befitting of the fabled assassin. It was cozy, decorated with rugs and candles, simple and liveable, but then, there was no sign of who she once was. No swords sheathed on the wall, no poisons being mixed upon the table, no grisly trophies of her hunts. It was entirely possible that she was simply an ordinary young tigress, he thought, albeit one with the rare blue colourings. But every movement she made, every word she spoke... and the gleam of those eyes. There was simply no doubt in his mind it was truly she.
When he removed his coat, she took it and neatly hung it up, and then brushed past him to disappear through a curtain into what he assumed to be the kitchen. The hyena was left to stand and consider just what was going on. She was a notorious historical figure, and one who had almost killed him, and now she was off making tea like nothing had happened. It was surreal. He looked around. It was the most he could do in his present state of mind.
There were a few small decorations, nothing too complex. She had a fine assortment of lamps and candles, all of them dark for the moment. It was upon an old desk that he spotted the most curious of the decor. It were the tiniest thing, a single framed picture pressed back near the edge of the desk. Smiling on was a youthful leopard... maybe a leopardess, it was hard to tell in the small photo. Kamili bent to observe closer, noting the family resemblance in the gleam of eyes, and curve of smile. It was a few minutes idly wondering about the apparent son... perhaps nephew or even sibling, before a paw came down upon his shoulder.
"The tea is ready."
She had crept up on him not simply without a sound, but without even projecting her presence. His hunter's instinct told him that moments ago, he was alone in the room, and yet, there she was. In her voice, there was a insistence that intimidated despite the mundane words. Kamili didn't know why, but she didn't seem to like him looking at that photo. Perhaps for the same reason she did not like him following her - fear of those who might bring her or her loved ones harm. And when he was done considering all these possibilities, his body remembered that he'd been startled, giving a very delayed yelp that contained a bit of his species' laughter.
"Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to snoop."
"Be at ease. I am no longer the assassin you know."
That subtly sharp tone was gone, to be replaced by what almost seemed like playfulness. Whatever the case, he found himself encouraged to take a seat alongside her and sip the offered tea. It warmed him to the very toes, filling his mouth with an exotic blend of flavours. Strong and foreign to him. He felt better about the night's events, no longer on edge.
"Now tell me once more. You were following me for what reason?"
Scratching behind an ear, Kamili felt like an idiot all of a sudden. It didn't help that she had the habit of staring right into him, the violet shine making him feel so very small and powerless, even in the presence of such a lean, light creature like her.
"This is going to sound pretty dumb," he chuckled. "But I thought you might give an autograph or something. I mean, you're a pretty big deal and all."
She smiled to him, and placed a paw on his arm. "I think well of you, I will have you know. You are a kind young one. But dispel such a foolish notion. I am not your hero."
"Not exactly hero, it's just..."
"Do not admire me. Accept me despite my transgressions, at best."
The hyena nodded, and sipped his tea. She did too. There was a silence, until he couldn't help but pressing forth, feeling regret for every word he said.
"So, you don't feel good about any of it? It wasn't like you were heartless. I've heard... stories, poems even, of your mercy, of the change you made possible..."
"Romanticized. Idealized. I was a killer," she said. "I killed." She stared into his soul between sips. "I was not in the business of saving lives."
"I'm really very sorry for all this, if I had known you felt this way..."
"One evening can only contain so many apologies. There is no harm. You are young."
He wasn't that young. No longer an adolescent, he considered himself an adult by then. But in her presence, there simply was so much he didn't know, her wisdom open to him without even needing demonstration, making him feel like a child. .
"Thanks for, um, having me up here by the way. It's fascinating to meet you, regardless of... it all."
"You are welcome. You may stay as long as you wish. There is much tea to be had." Again, she offered the faintest glimpses of a more lighthearted being beneath the weight of her history. He found himself uncomfortably attracted.
"That sounds great. I don't really have anywhere to be. I, uh, definitely didn't expect to run into you tonight." He bit his lip, wondering if he'd feel like an idiot for saying what he did next. "I mean, I've dreamt of it... childishly, really. That we might be friends... and the like."
"Young one, - your name if you please? - your wish is granted. I enjoy your company."
"I'm Kamili, miss Shir... miss." He avoided speaking her name, to respect her wishes.
She nodded, taking in the name, and then cast her gaze into her mug. "I will tell you the truth. I am lonely here. Many years have I been without anyone. My lover is dead. My son is hidden away, not knowing he is mine. All those around me sense my tainted soul. It is what I deserve." When she looked up to his eyes again, her purple globes were even more piercing. "And it is more than I can bear."
Kamili almost apologized again, but caught the words in his throat. It hurt him to see her like that. Despite what she had insisted, she still was a thing of such beauty, such grace and honour to him. He reached his paw out tentatively, and then laid it on her shoulder.
"I'll stay with you for as long as you need, ma'am."
Her faint smile, one that resided more in her eyes than lips, found its way back onto her face. She sat up straight, setting her tea aside, and embrace the young hyena, her back arched elegantly and her neck straight. In all her movements, she was like a dancer, and the closeness had Kamili in a trance. He was turned on, he couldn't hide it. With his own drink put to the side, he returned the embrace, feeling over her curved hips just briefly before pressing his paws to her lower back. She was so thin, and yet so toned, so very powerful and dangerous. He was playing with fire to be so close.
"You are a kind soul, Kamili. As I have said now repeatedly, ha." Her paw rose to his cheek, and began to stroke. "Share this evening with me. Perhaps it shall make up for my earlier behaviour."
The bulge in his pants made it quite clear what he thought of that proposition, but still the hyena took time to question it. "Are you sure? I mean...you don't need to do this just because of what happened..."
"You are the first to know who I truly am and not leave me in fear. I ask you. Do you trust me, Kamili?"
Her intensity had him tense. She was a wild beast, a flaming passion in the form of a tigress. He simply hoped he'd be left intact once she was done with him.
"I trust you."
"Thank you." The tigress was smiling with her lips this time. "It warms my heart to hear those words."
And then she simply attacked him. He was left cackling and yelping in fear for a moment as he thought himself being torn apart. But neither he nor his clothes were being destroyed, she simply had a haste about her that he dared not question or restrain. His shirt was pulled over his head, leaving his chest to be admired and stroked over for a few seconds, and then she returned the favour, guiding his paws to her simple sweater, making him take it off.
She was a beauty. If he had to articulate what he saw, that would be the best he could do. Her stripes were a shocking black across lush azure fur, and she gleamed in the low light of the apartment as her sleek, curved form was revealed to him. Her bosom was firmed and shook softly with the motion of the disrobing. He reached and grabbed at her and she quietly moaned, his paws not finding anything in particular but finding themselves engulfed in smooth softness that was like dipping them into a warm bath for the comfort it brought. His member pounded in his pants, the tip poking up from under his belt. He was pretty big down there for a smaller guy, after all.
When she continued her assault upon his clothing, his pants were easily taken care of. Her precision was just that of which he had read. Even with bodies pressed to one another, she could free him of his last remaining coverings. He wasn't sure how, but in moments he was naked, his pants on the floor, his underwear strewn off somewhere else, his erection throbbing in the tigress' grasp.
It was all so fast. For a moment, he wondered if he was still in fact in the alley with knife to his throat. But soon the only focus he could think of was animal lust and pleasure. She was stroking him, gripping at his thick, mildly dripping ebony shaft. A rumble emanated from deep within her throat. He was a male hyena, he was by instinct subordinate to a powerful female. And she was a powerful female.
Soon, she was upon him. Her weight was minimal, but she pinned him easily, her paws pressed flat to his shoulders, allowing him to caress over her curves. Half of her was still covered, but the other half was enough to keep his groping paws busy. His fingers curled into the waist of her jeans. Those garments that were so unsuited for her alluring form. He felt deeper, and firmer. His length pounded along with the rest of his body. He was naked, pinned, and at her mercy. His tail thumped the couch.
A faint squirm passed through his muscles, just to test to see how well she had him in place. There was no doubt. He was held. He was hers. A sweet, feminine aroma came forth as she stripped further, her body sliding along on its curves as she exposed her brisk, blue body to him. Their colours merged sweetly; chocolate brown with deep sapphire. They were together, and Kamili wanted nothing else in the world at that moment.
No longer could he see what was going on. She was simply a blur. A whirl of motion, all of it elegant and perfect. She knew just where to touch him, just where to breathe even, to hypnotize him. A whimper escaped his throat. He wanted so very badly to please his feline alpha. She was not hyena, but she was matriarch to him. A growl came with the showing of her fangs, glistening and lethal. She knew she was in control.
Heat danced along the heaving inches of his member. Desire had his muscles tensed, his teeth clenched. It would have been a snarl had he given it the sound, but he made no more than a dull panting. The heat enveloped his length and soon was accompanied by wetness as the naked cat pressed down on him, sitting up on his thighs, leaning over him in a mighty, triumphant pose, her back arched, her toned form flexed. He was finally slipping inside, with a rush of pure pleasure that had his head tingling. His ears were flat, and he bit his lip, clenching his legs together to no avail.
The surge hit him from bottom to top. It was more the pleasure, it was pure happiness rushing through his body to be released all at once into the heated confines of the tigress' sex. He released a gush of his thick seed, and then more. Gush after gush, springing forth with potence. They filled and soaked the walls of the feline's insides. She was snarling at him. It wasn't anger. At least he hoped. It was a passion that she demonstrated as she leaned down to meet his lips in a tight kiss, her tongue invading his taste, making his mouth hers.
It wasn't over. He could always go twice, and she wasn't going to let him stop at one anyway. And her motions had only begun. As she lay there, stretched over his spotted form, pressing down, her hips moving to plunge him in and out of her, she soon moved to overwhelm him. Her soft hips collided with his. His body creaked down to test the strength of the couch. It didn't hurt. It should have, but there was only enjoyment.
She used her strength. Everything she did, she did it hard. Body mashed to body, hips pounding hips. He whimpered some, but not in complaint. Simple submission. His efforts to assist were simply hammered down into the couch beneath as she delved him into her deeper and firmer with each moment. Her lips were curled back, her eyes ablaze. A horrifying beauty. Almost too much to bear looking at, and yet impossible to look away from. She could break him in half, nip off his head, any sort of cruelty. But he had said he trusted her. Now more than ever.
Her roar split her features and tossed her delicate beauty into that of pure, wild cat. The sound shattered the air, sending Kamili recoiling. His cackles joined in, but were largely drowned out. She was finished. He could feel it by the rush of wetness over his slamming shaft. He released again. Harder. Sac drawn tight up to his body, squeezing out every drop he had to give her, spurting two orgasms' worth of seed within. Much of it washed back out by the dominant female release. He ended up a mess. His cackles of pleasure remained.
Momentum demanded that she did not cease moving immediately. Her hips continued to pound, and then to simply thrust, and then rub. She came to a stop, and paused for a time, purple glaring into his golden orbs. He could only express awe, and thankfulness. No words, not yet at least. When she sighed and pulled off of him, there was a great release of fluids, belonging to the both of them, and most of them ended up on the hyena's belly. He'd be marked with the remembrance of their evening, allowed to cherish it with his keen nose.
Her paws were upon his chest, stroking. She was rumbling. Not purring, but it was similar.
"I do hope I was not too rough."
Kamili considered that for a time, and then he just started to laugh. Not a cackle as he'd given during the mating, but a hearty chuckle as he shook his head. "I... phew... I think this is the part where I stammer breathlessly and fail to find the right words..." he huffed. "Kind of like I'm doing."
She shared in his laughter. It was brief, and subtle, but it lit up her fine features like a ray of sun. "I am slowing down in my old age. I assure you I have done better in times past."
"Did they live to tell the tale?"
"Not always." It took a moment for him to realize that she was dead serious on that fact. Fortunately, it didn't break the mood of happy aftermath. "You did well for yourself. I admit I expected less from one of such youth."
"I didn't really do much more than lay around and squirm, really. Does that count as good?"
"Ah, but you are virile." She softly chuckled. "And you did not ask me to slow down."
He smiled as he stroked his arm, and gave a small rumble of his own, a murr of sorts while he continued to press his naked body close to hers. The balance was a little precarious with the both of them partially side-by-side on the narrow couch, but that just meant he had to press closer to her silk. No complaints there.
"I think you may have broken me, actually. Like if I get up from here my spine's going to just flop down to the floor and roll away."
"You are stronger than you look. I have dealt with those much larger who could handle much less." She licked his cheek. "Crying out and mewling like kittens, too fast, too hard, too vicious, they say." Raising her head above his, she observed him. "I did not scare you, did I?"
"I will admit to a few flutters of the heart." He was grinning by now. "But I survived, and I'm proud of myself."
"You did a fine job. You may stay here tonight, if you wish. There is a bed that might make it easier to be together."
For a moment Kamili's heart actually sunk at the thought of more sex. He was so very drained, and so very satisfied. But he'd give her whatever she wanted, that he knew.
"Indira... um, miss," he started, faltering with his sudden thoughts. "I don't want to make to make this sound like I was before... all obsessed with you and such... but if you ever need someone to be with, I can be your friend. Just... wanted you to know. I'm talking too much. I should just sit and enjoy my stupor, right?"
"You have already become a cherished friend, Kamili." Her soft playfulness faded as she became more serious, ensuring he got the idea. "You are here for me in a time of need. I will not simply cast you out when I am done with you."
They exchanged a smile, and then kissed slowly.
"But there is one thing I request," she softly spoke.
"Of course."
"I am no longer Indira the assassin. I am Indira who you met out walking one night. Is this simple enough?"
"Of course - I, heh, so no more childish fantasies.Got it."
"Not to say all your fantasies will go unfulfilled, friend." She cast him a sultry look and then licked his face, snuggling her body warm and close to his.
Kamili didn't feel the need to say anything more. He simply remained close and enjoyed her presence. Killer, legend, myth... it was all irrelevant. She was simply a beautiful, loving creature, and he would be there for her whenever she needed him.