Collector
Collector
"We don't see many of your kind around here, stranger," the old seaside merchant exaggerated the part about being a stranger, emphasizing that I probably wasn't welcome here in the port. The old opossum swatted at the flies around his face before he lit his pipe, "What is it that I can do you for?"
"I'm looking for some," I weighed my odds that the opossum was not on a payroll of any government agency, "Bamboo."
"So the stories are true," he sighed as though he made some miraculous revelation, he scratched at his straggly chin fur. I knew he was talking about the addiction. An addiction that over the last few centuries the Panda race had come to go without it. When they realized that our numbers were dwindling, they set up clinics. Clinics to administer a new Bamboo. More addictive than its predecessor. Reward for fucking. There was a dual side, they'd stick you with it every now and again to ensure you would jones for it.
"Yea? So?" I asked, impatient.
"Well," he took another deep draw from his pipe, "I don't have any, but there's a guy, a little ways into the city, I heard he keeps some of the stuff."
"Legit?" I asked, wondering if he wouldn't bring the Stars down on me.
"As legit as me," he waved his paw around at his shack of vices, some of which were casually illegal.
It was a gamble, and I had already spent some of my luck with the opossum. A little more couldn't hurt? As I left, I rubbed my tummy for good luck. I drew my hooded jacket over my head. There were some hovercabs as I walked away from the port and toward the fog.
"Where can I take you pal?" The canid mutt asked as I walked toward his hovercar. "Just get into town?" He was able to smell the sea on me. I had fled the Panda's Nation a week ago, disguised as a tall portly black bear, but it had faded a bit since the journey.
"I need to go to the bazaar," I said as I climbed into the craft. I swiped my cred stick, and it read with haste. Before the caste purge, I was an aristocrat, in a very long line of aristocrats. Now I was a criminal. It made me smile a little at what my folks would have thought if they were still alive to see the change.
The hovercab rose above the fog, and the brilliant sunset embraced the vehicle. We quickly came up to speed, heading toward the metropolis in the horizon.
The bazaar was what happens when smaller turn of the century buildings are brought into the new century. They hovered above their old foundations, not quite with the grace of the commercial stuff. All joined together by makeshift bridges, most of them didn't have their own zero point generators, or working power, and borrowed generously from their neighbors.
"You came at a good time, this weekend is the Festival of Colors."
"Festival of Colors?"
"You'll see," we made eye contact in his rearview, "Nobody will take notice of a bloke such as yourself running around."
He knew. Did he call the Stars?
"Worried about the Stars? No, they don't come down to the bazaar, not when everyone's getting ready for the festivities."
"What'll it cost me to keep you quiet about it?"
"I'm a dog, as honest as they come, but a dog's got to eat, and these days, scraps don't quite cut it." He looked a little sad as he knew that he was blackmailing me.
I paid for my six credit fare and left a hundred credit tip.
There were already many highly colored banners strewn about in some organized chaos. Vibrant colors of all sorts, some natural, others impossible. It was all very beautiful. I'd have admired it more, had my addiction not blanketed every one of my senses, dulling them down to a little more than objects in space. I could feel a wave of desire to be back on my high, where all these colors would dance before my beady eyes.
I made it to the little shop, unmarked save for a sun jar on the second step of the four step entrance way, the way the old sea opossum mentioned. I didn't knock, I let myself in.
"Go away," someone said as I entered the dark musty room. I couldn't see him clearly, he sat quietly in the shadows of the next room.
"I just needed to buy something from you, then I'll be gone."
"I've nothing to sell to you," he stated firmly, there was a gruffness in his voice that spoke volumes of his experience.
"The opossum at the wharf said--"
"I don't care what he said, there is nothing for you to buy, and I have nothing to sell."
I was getting impatient, or it was the craving that said it, "You don't seem to understand me."
"I don't understand?!" he boomed.
He spun around from his chair, and I realized that I had been looking at the back of his head. He stood, even taller than me. He stepped out of the shadow and toward me. A rhinoceros. I'd never laid eyes on one before. Which didn't say much, considering I had lived my entire life in the Panda's Nation. From what I heard, they were all but extinct.
He grabbed me by the shoulder and slammed me against the nearest wall. It loosened my hood, falling slowly aside.
We paused.
"Well, what do we have here?" He cocked his head to the side. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew some spectacles, gently placing them on his large nose. His horn was very quite close to my face, uncomfortably so.
He released his grasp from my shoulder and I could see his size quite well. He must have been seven feet tall, and built like a small house.
"I never thought I would see the day when I'd meet a panda."
Was my disguise that bad?
"I'm sorry, where are my manners?" He turned and walked back into his shadowy room. Fumbling through cabinets before he rushed right back out of the room. I have to admit, I flinched a little to see him coming at me a second time.
In his large palms, was several small green vials.
"It must have been weeks since you've used," he thought out loud. They were a bright green, envy green even. I wanted to take them from his hand, but had that been a small show of strength, he could have easily broken me in half. "Here, take it," he place them in my paws, "This stuff isn't going to be as potent as they stuff they give back in your country, but it can ease you off the stuff."
"There's no way to stop it," I said cynically. There really wasn't. Many underground societies tried to break away. After a month, they'd start to have blackouts. Don't remember where they were when they woke up, but sometimes they'd wake up in a clinic, an IV drip attached to their arms.
"Me with my manners, I haven't much talked to anyone these days," his thoughts trailed off elsewhere. He snapped back, "My name's Bruce," extending his hand.
"Dan," I returned the pleasantries.
"Well Dan," he he displayed his forearms, I didn't know what to look for, but soon it came to me that there were no track marks. The fur always masks it for my kind, but he was clear of any injection sites on his hide. "I haven't touched Savannah for years."
They didn't teach about Savannah at school, but we all heard the stories. Several months without a hit, and you were comatose, indefinitely. The rhinoceros were the test group, Savannah had additional effects, it also promoted growth, and a strong aphrodisiac. For years, they became bodybuilders and were a military force unlike any other, but their numbers took a turn for the worse. They had become sterile due to Savannah. Those that gave up on life, let themselves OD. Those that fought it, ended up in a coma.
A sharp burning jab of pain, the cool liquid courses through my veins. I feel light headed. The colors return. I feel like the air that I breathe is pure oxygen. I forget that the Stars are on the lookout for me. I forget that my kind is that of a dying race. Everything is in it's place as it should be.
I can taste it as it flows through me, becoming part of me. It reminds me of the times that I ran around my parent's garden, back then we liquified Bamboo and smoke it. Simpler times back then. When everyone saw it as recreation, and not something that we lived for.
Thoughts of Sam lingered in my head, but weren't enough to spoil my high. As the initial rush subsided, I became aware of Bruce watching me. There was a quizzical expression across his face.
"Who's Sam?"
"Someone from another lifetime," I said instead of taking the time to explain old lovers.
"Hmm," he rested his mass against the door from between rooms. The light of the day was gone, the streets outside filled with a sodium orange as the lamps flickered to life. "So do you know where you'll be staying?"
"I was going to find a nearby hotel until I can secure a line with you to get more of the stuff."
"You're not going to find a hotel," he said flatly, "All booked up, the annual Festival of Colors. You'd have to head into the metropolis, but you're more likely to be made there by the Stars."
"So where can I stay?"
"Thought you'd never ask," he answered with a smile, "I live upstairs, you can stay with me."
Great. Stay with my dealer.
"Before you start wondering, there's nothing ethically wrong with staying with your supplier. It's just been such a long while since I've had company. You never know when someone might be thinking about taking up the bounties sitting on our heads."
I followed him up the stairs to his rather cozy domicile. It was a fairly decent size, but seemed rather small due to our large proportions. There were homemade zero point generators sitting in corners of the room.
The smell of dinner wafted in the from the next room. My stomach pangs stabbed through my subtle high. It had been a long while since I've had a cooked meal. I entered the modest kitchen, it was already set, for two.
"I always have a second seat," he said as he put the food on the table, "Just in case."
"Just in case?" I saw his eyes were not focused on me, but in an other room behind me, I looked back, and could see someone lying in bed, unmistakably a male rhinoceros.
"In case he ever wakes up."
I sat down at his request.
"His name's Andrew," he said mournfully, "We met in the army thirty years ago, and I've loved him since the day we met. I discovered an antidote for Savannah, but it was too late for Andrew. Halfway through treatment to kick the stuff, he lapsed into a coma.
"That was four years ago," he said biting back his emotions, "His body doesn't need the drug, but his mind never came back."
We waited for something to break the silence.
"Sam was my best friend and lover," I shared my own story with him. Sam's family were servants of my family. I was an only child, and Sam was the only one close to my age, he was about three years younger than me. We played together all the time, especially after school. He went to a public school, and I attended a private one, and he would tell me about what the other panda's were learning. The stuff in the real world.
I'd never forget the night he taught me about sex. I had snuck some extra Bamboo out from the house, it was a higher quality that Sam's family couldn't afford, let alone for Sam to have any. We layed under the stars, and he brought with him a magazine that he beat another kid up for at his school. It had a lot of lewd images of females on it, I knew then that I didn't care for the women. I was interested in the eight inch tree that Sam was growing in his pants as he flipped through the pages of his magazine.
I'd grow to find out that he was extremely rough that night he took my virginity, but as the years went by, he'd get better at pleasing himself inside of me. From his erratic thrusts and slaps on my ass end to a well coordinated refined grind against my tailhole. Often while we smoked, he would complain about the girls from his school never allowing him to stick it in their asses. Probably because at the time, if a girl were knocked up, it smiled favorably upon her. The government subsidized quite heavily for purebred pandas.
When my parents passed, Sam moved in from the servant's quarters and into my house. He had matured by then, his discretions became less and less frequent. Though they never completely went away.
"After the second Reform that reinstated Bamboo as a legal substance, Sam left me. What better way to spend the rest of his life than fucking women and getting Bamboo?
"I guess the drugs helped make me believed he loved me too."
"Or not care if he didn't."
"That too."
The conversation never soured the dinner, the food was amazing, and I complimented Bruce on his fine culinary skills.
He explained that he did a lot of stuff on his own. I was intrigued at the number of things that Bruce did. He was an engineer by nature. When the call came to figure out how to undo the effects of Savannah, he pushed himself to learn chemical engineering. My stories were not as interesting as his lifetime experience in the military or even the life he had with Andrew.
His loneliness struck true and seemed to resonate with my own.
It was just past midnight when our conversation died down.
"So," he rubbed the back of his head, "You can stay on the couch if you like," things were quickly moving toward a very awkward situation. "Unless of course," he dropped eye contact.
"You can ask," I told him bluntly.
"It's just been years."
"Well why don't you start with, 'why don't you come back to my place?'" we laughed.
As we walked into his bedroom and I slowly undid his shirt, I told him, "This isn't about the drugs."
"No," he tossed his shirt aside, "I know." He shoved me playfully down onto the bed. I wasn't sure what had chiselled Bruce's body, the Savannah? Maybe it was the military? He was hardened with a rough leathery skin, but it made his massive muscles incredibly defined. Even now in the dark moonlight, I could count every abdominal muscle.
There was a passion in his kisses and his touch. He felt every part of my body, slowly removing the clothes from me. Between his heavy kisses, his tongue explored my maw. As he drew back, he observed my exposed body. I felt my ego diminish, compared to the rippling demi-god standing above me, I had nothing comparable. My heart sank some more when he undid the strap that held his pants on, revealing his thick veiny genitalia. It looked bigger than my forearm. On good days, I might have been six inches, his looked nearly twice the size of my own.
He smiled slowly, "You're damn sexy," he said almost a whisper.
I couldn't ask him to repeat it, though I wished he would. He laid down on top of me, his weight bearing down upon me. I felt comfort under him as he kissed and tongued my muzzle. Slowly he repositioned himself lower and lower, lightly kissing down the drift of my chest and belly. I felt heat engulf my member, his mouth slick with saliva. He worked wonders with his tongue, it must not have been a minute before I was getting close. I'd never known what it was like to have someone suck my prick before. I wanted more, but at the same time I didn't want to shoot down his mouth. My paw found his horn and held it slightly to keep him from bobbing down on my pulsating cock.
Bruce looked at me quizzically.
"I'm so very close," I tried to explain. I don't know if he had heard something else, but he lifted both my legs and next thing I knew hot spurts of my jism were strewn across my face. I didn't quite catch the first sensation, but it was a tongue between the cleft of my cheeks and across my tailhole. I could identify the second lap, but by then, I was still shooting my load along my belly, soaking my fur. I gasped and moan, or moaned and gasped. I couldn't tell. His tongue was electric, I shuddered and bucked against the intensifying orgasm.
He was still working my tailhole. I could feel the throws of orgasms start to subside, and tried my best to ride out the aftershocks.
I could feel him stand above me, resting my legs against his shoulders. I could feel the heat of his cock as it resided gently against the puckered orifice of my tailhole. It was probably the lingering effects of the Bamboo that made it less difficult for him to ease himself into me. I could feel my insides wrap around the head of his engorged meat. He worked his way deeper into me, I could feel the beginnings of a new orgasm working its way out from where his dick pressed in.
"There we go," he sighed, his fleshy member fully hilted and buried inside of me. The orgasm was rapidly working its way to the surface as he started to fuck me, pulling his sweaty prick out of me and returning it with gusto. I reached down with my paw to answer the cries of attention that my hard-on demanded.
Bruce reached down and brushed my paw aside, taking my cock in his palm. He didn't stroke it, but as he thrust his hips against my buttocks, the movement worked my cock inside of his grip. I could feel him begin to swell even more inside of me. He began working my aching prick, his thrusts became more erratic. I felt the pressure building inside of me. I squeezed down on his dick, only to realize that it was enough to push me over. I shot my load, my body shuddering and fibrillating against his massive instrument. I felt my insides go slick with the torrents of his sperm. He rode me more furiously, bucking his hard fleshy column against his newly found meat sleeve.
"I'm sorry," Bruce apologized from behind the sweat that slowly dripped off his face and onto my chest. The room was thick with sex. "You're just so tight, I couldn't resist."
He laid down next to me, the bed slowly sinking toward his side and drew me into a hug. We continued to cuddle until I fell asleep.
I stirred from my slumber as I realized Bruce was getting out of bed. I slowly climbed along his backside and rested my head on his shoulders.
"Hey," I broke the silence.
"How are you feeling?"
"Great."
"Any craving?"
I had awoke for the first time without a knot in the pit of my stomach telling me that I needed one more hit. "Just one," I realized.
"I'll get it from the other room."
"It's right here though," I gave him a squeeze.
"Sweet of you, but hurry and put on some clothes."
"I'm perfectly content here."
"Trust me, we'll want to be outside today."
"I thought you never went outside," I questioned him.
"There are never any Stars out during the Festival of Colors."
He opened the window, the light spilled forth in a deluge of colors. From what I could see from my cozy spot in the bed, people outside were throwing powdered dyes of a myriad of colors on each other. All sorts of species in ridiculous colors.
As we stepped out from his little shop and crossed the threshold onto another building, all I could see were smiling faces and people celebrating a good time.
The smells of food were everywhere and there was just so much to take in. I followed Bruce along closely as we made our way deeper into the bazaar, the streets and crosswalks strewn with bodies of every gamut of the rainbow.
A small panther girl painted in pinks ran by throwing a large paw full of pink at Bruce, I managed to step mostly out of the way. We laughed. He brushed off quite a bit of it onto me. As we journeyed further, I noticed someone different in the distance, "Do you know of any tigers?"
"I haven't seen any in years, not since their country was taken over, why?"
"Could have been my imagination, maybe he was just another feline painted up like a tiger.
"Or perhaps he's in hiding like us?" I thought out loud.
"Unlikely, they don't have a reproductive problem the way our people do. Their country was destroyed and their people were scattered. There would be no need for them to be in hiding."
The festivities went deep into the night, and we found a small cafe at the edge of the bazaar, overlooking the ports that lined the coast. It was really more like someone's patio, in which they had placed floating lanterns around, but I didn't complain. The day had been wonderful, the night tempered with residual heat keeping the night warm. A breeze came in from the port, carrying with it that peculiar ocean smell.
"It's been just such a long time since I've really had the opportunity to relax and be in good company," Bruce admitted to me.
"I can't remember the last time I had such a good time," I replied, matching honesty.
A stout mole walked up to the table, holding a bottle of champagne. "From the gent at the bar," he explained as he poured to glasses for Bruce and myself.
We looked back at the bar, there were several people there, toasting the good times, I might have saw a paw wave over at us. Bruce and I raised our glasses to whoever it was kind enough to buy us a drink.
It was probably that I hadn't had much in a while that I was starting to feel the effects of the bubbly beverage. Bruce aided me back to his place, his own words slurring ever so slightly. However, by the time we were at his door, he was full on drunk. Things were a little hazy as we entered his door, the room was a lot different than the last time I remembered it, this time around it was spinning.
I awoke to a sense of vertigo, as my eyes adjusted to the room, we were no longer in the bazaar. It was clean, sterilized, clinical. The world came warping back around me. I made to move, but something restrained me. As my senses returned I realized I was suspended above the ground, I struggled against my restraints.
"I wouldn't bother with that," a voice from somewhere in the room spoke.
I looked around, also suspended beside me was Bruce and beside him was Andrew. They were both unconscious. Their nudity only reminded me of my lack of clothing as well.
"Zero point energy can be used for just about anything these days," I could hear him smiling. The click of boots indicated that he was walking towards us.
A tiger in a uniform stepped in front of us. I didn't recognize the uniform, but that didn't stop my curiosity.
"You're with the Stars?" I asked.
"Heavens no," he started to pace. "I have much higher aspirations than that. But, I will admit I contracted out for the Stars on several occasions as a bounty hunter."
"So you're going to sell us back to our governments?" Bruce was starting to regain consciousness.
"Meh," he waved the notion away with a paw, "That would be counter productive. My boss, a very powerful tiger, is what we call a Collector.
"He likes," the tiger examined his claws methodically, "exotic play things."
A holoscreen behind him lit up and came to life, an thrall of bodies moving orgiastically against each other. Red wolves, polar bears, american bison, some sort of tortoise, all grinding upon each other, around a central tiger.
"What makes you think that we will just join a sick man's harem?"
A white german shepherd walked into the room, his uniform similar to that of the tiger's, he held a platter with two silver syringes.
"I'm sure you're familiar with the effects of Savannah.
"This is quite a bit like Savannah, similar aphrodisiacal qualities, unleashes serotonin, and highly addictive. You'll be on your knees begging for it every few hours.
"Only problem with Tiger's Bawls is that tends to get flushed out of your system when you ejaculate. You can thank me that little bit of jewelry though,"
There was a high pitched whine that started around my crotch, I could feel it start to vibrate, I looked over to see a metallic ring around Bruce's cock as it started to harden.
"Amazing the things you can apply zero point energy to," he held up a one of the cock rings, "These little babies will keep you from shooting your load, and keep you hard as nails.
"Give them a shot."
I felt a quick snap at my balls as though someone had pulled out a hair, then came a fire as my already engorged dick tried to burst out of its skin. I felt the waves of orgasm pull me from under like a riptide. I could hear the echoes of Bruce's groaning.
The next room was lit with reds, fancy silks and velvets lined the room. It smelled of some sort of incense that burned a little in my nostrils. I could feel the return of that knot in my stomach. I was completely naked save for the tight cock ring around my genitals. Bruce and I were ushered in by the white german shepherd.
Toward the back of the room sat a very large tiger. He was built the way a titan would be built. Muscles where I wasn't sure muscles could ever be. He sat quietly upon something that I couldn't quite make out. As we were shepherded closer, I could see that he was sitting down on top of Andrew's crotch. The whine of the cockring though not entirely unpleasant began its course.
The tiger opened his eyes, and smiled.
"A panda," he growled more than spoke, "I've yet to have one of your kind." He stood slowly, Andrew's cock slapped against his belly as it came free from the tiger's ass.
He opened the palm of his paw to reveal two silver syringes, though my brain had yet to make the full connection, my body already knew what that meant.
"Come to me, yes?"
We walked towards him, footsteps that were not our own. He commanded us onto our knees and we submitted. It might have been of our own accord, just to satiate the desire for that fix. I would admit that there was a certain disconnect between mind and body. I might have been otherwise terrified by the lack of control if it hadn't felt enjoyable. The tiger passed the two needles to over to the shepherd.
Twinge of pain. Rush of fire. Swollen in all the right places. We were his.
He sat me down upon Andrew's thick trunk of a dick already slick from the fountain like pre oozing out of his piss slit. As I slowly took the head in, I felt my body pulsate rhythmically as though I were cumming. Only streams of clear pre leaked out. My body continued to go into throws of orgasm as I rode further down. It didn't fit comfortably, in fact, it didn't fit at all, Andrew was much thicker than Bruce. Yet I was driven to bury it deeper in me. Gripping and releasing the entire way down.
The muscular tiger dropped onto all fours, positioning himself between Bruce and myself. His tail coaxing the rhino to shove his enormous pecker into his tailhole, prepped and already ready. I watched as Bruce drove in, obviously trying to furiously get his rocks off. As the tiger wrapped his dexterous tongue around my sensitive head, I came, or at least I thought I had, and probably should have.
The large muscular tiger continued to let the rhino pound him, while he eagerly worked my fleshy bits around in his maw. My muscles contracting like a flickering light bulb. My mind said I was orgasming, but my body said it was ready for more.
He rode between the two of us, dicks in both ends for what felt like hours. He started sucking harder when I realized that he was spent. The tiger rode a little longer through his afterglow. He took my cock out of his mouth and told Bruce to get off of him.
"Fine specimens to my collection," he wiped the pre-cum from the corners of his maw.
I was desperate to cum, I kept jacking my meat and grinding the fat rhino prick against my prostate. It was no good, it felt amazing, but nothing shot out. He watched my fruitless attempts to spill my seed.
"Since you're new, I'll be nice," he signalled someone, and the whine of the rings died down. The first load unloaded like a shotgun, and the next eight or nine just as far. I could feel the warm splashes of liquid against my face. Bruce squirted ropes of DNA out across the distance onto me. I climbed up off Andrew with a thundering shlock sound, his cum dripping down along between my thighs.
"Get them cleaned up," I overheard the tiger say, "Their next clients will be here shortly. Those boys from the Stars like to play rough."