{"sf1_id":2063316,"sf2_id":"bebl9Wwn","title":"GLUTTONY AND TEMPERANCE","author":"LiveIron","words":861,"posted_at":"2023-10-22T17:03:04.000Z","tags":["Anger","Angst","Anthrostate","Blood and Injury","Car Chases","Dark past","Gun","Horror","Hug","Human","Interspecies","Interspecies Awkwardness","Large Breasts","Magic","Old Friends","Pain","Paranormal","Possession","Resurrection","Size Difference","Smothering","Smothring","Spies \u0026amp; Secret Agents","Tiger","Tigress","Transformation","butt slapping","driving","fights","firearm","healing","monsters"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2063316-gluttony-and-temperance","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/bebl9Wwn","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/00/71/0071a8c4-1fcf-4bad-965c-1d512e139cc8","description":"'You need'","content":"\\\u003eRebecca hugs you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou stiffen, but don't resist.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe's warm. Soft.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eOverwhelmingly all-encompassing.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Anon --\" she starts, but stops partway through.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe pulls you closer instead.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer size means your head doesn't clear her chest, and her arms swallow you almost completely.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGod.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHow long has it been since you've held someone?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHow long has it been since someone held you?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHow long has it been since you felt so warm, so safe? Trusted someone like this, cared for them like this?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eGuilt burns bright in your stomach.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut strangely, your hands still seek her plush form.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eRebecca jumps, then pulls you into her lap.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe same questions are going through her head, you realize.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Anon,\" she manages, shifting her grip, \"I'm so, so sorry.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou can feel the holes in her sports bra against your face. Soft fur pokes through.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You went through all that, and now I -- I brought you back here.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer legs tighten around yours; her arms pull you closer.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThere's a shiver to her voice.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"It's not your fault,\" you say into her chest.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe doesn't hear.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I appreciate your words,\" she says, oblivious to your slight struggles, \"but I don't think it's the same.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe fire in your gut burns brighter as you feel her hold tighten.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou push harder, trying to free yourself.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIt's so nice. It's so tempting to let go.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMore than you'd thought it'd be.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut you can't.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIt's not what you deserve.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"But I know that I -- I need to repay you,\" she sighs. \"For everything.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou feel her lay back, pulling you with.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe's starting to tip to the side.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I'll hold you. Like this. For however long it takes --\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"No!\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe tigress stiffens, brought out of her trance.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou pop from her chest with a gasp. Her hands don't leave you, keeping you firmly in her grip.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut she’s no longer smothering you in her chest.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I -- I'm sorry,\" she manages, looking down at you.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThere's confusion in her face. But disappointment as well.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Why not?\" she asks.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I -- we can't,\" you say.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Why not?\" she repeats, voice slightly deeper.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Because _I_ can't.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou have to keep your face from falling.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I should have died, Rebecca. This is my second chance. It's more than I deserve, and I --\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA howl pierces the air.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer claws scrape against your armor as the two of you look up.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"He's here,\" Rebecca says, all the warmth from before gone.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"...That's another reason.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe doesn't smile. The tigress pushes you off to the side, already standing when you hit the cushion.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer blade hums and her tail flicks.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou grab your discarded PsyScope and curse.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou should've been fixing it.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou summon Talia and turn it on anyway, scanning the windows.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNothing.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNo pounding of feet, no wheezing or gasping.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIt's like when you first arrived all over again.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYour heart beats softly.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eRebecca growls.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAnd then it happens.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWindows shatter with a howl, dark shapes flowing through them.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou fire and Rebecca roars; each of you take one half of the house.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe thralls are new. They're unscathed by the fire or by scars from previous battles.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut they fight just the same as before, feral and uncoordinated.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe unsorted mess scatters about the room as you dodge swipes and bites.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eClaws scrape wood, shred paper, shatter valuables.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThough their blows never land, you still feel each one.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eA growl forces its way to your throat. You start double tapping.\n\n \n\n\\\u003ePutting extra shots into the monsters you've already put to the floor.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYour magazine may be limitless, but you stop yourself.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eIt's what he wants, you realize.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThat's why they're scattering her things about and smashing wood and glass.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThat's why there are thralls lurking outside in the yard.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Rebecca!\" you yell. \"Where is he?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe snarls, cleaving through a row of monsters before she answers.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Towards the truck!\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou flick the pin on a disruptor.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Then let's move!\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou toss the charge at the back door, popping the closest thralls before it goes off.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe device itself hardly makes a sound, but the screeching from the creatures in range is near-deafening.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou shove them out of the way as you go outside.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe disruption field feels strange like always. You feel cold, empty -- Talia seems to glow less brightly.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut she still works.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou cover Rebecca as she barrels your way, picking off the thralls not yet in range.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe grunts when she hits the barely-visible shimmering field. Her body tenses, and footsteps almost falter.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut her momentum carries her through.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou ward off the creatures waiting outside; the tigress clutches her head, slowing to a stop just on the edge of the charge's range.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You good?\" you yell.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Yeah,\" she grunts. \"Just -- a headache.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Good,\" you say. \"I think I know where to go...\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe field behind Talia's home is filled with figures. The dead weave through the dead stalks of corn as smoke rises behind them.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eWhatever's burning sends a glow into the night sky.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou take a breath; the monsters howl.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eRebecca rumbles.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAnd you both go to work.","series":{"name":"Negligent Discharge: Repent","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2062357-greed-and-charity.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2065366-lust.json"}}