[Lucci’s Fur] I Saw Him in The Seven Gardens
#1 of Lucci's Fur
Lucci's Fur: I Saw Him in The Seven Gardens
Warning: This story contains Furry/Man sexing. But you can skip those parts and instead enjoy a story about a man and his friend (who happens to have fur on his body) as they become friends...really really close friends. "But where is the fun in that?"- BeaverReturn
_ Hold a mirror to the earth and look upon the reflection. That is the world of this story. Told within a time that could be compared to man's own rise of modernity, this story tells of a period where man stopped looking to the sky to find god, and started looking to the skies to find planets and stars in their pursuits of scientific thoughts. In this world, industry would feed society, society would feed the industry, and sitting at the heart of this arrangement, the wealthy would reside within a smoke filled room:_
The majestic nature of the year's first snowfall had come early in the first month, Christmas had ended quite some time ago, and New Years was but a hazy memory in the minds of revellers. As the chill of winds came to ride their chariots all through January, it was then, at the end of the month, had I realized that it was truly the beginning of the dead of winter.
On that day, as I watched the snow fall in their incessant decent from my manor's window, it was in the cosiness of my office that I sat. In the fireplace behind me, a crackling flame hungrily fed on the logs within. It was all too eager to eat upon the lumber beneath its orange glow but all the same I enjoyed its warming aura. Its heat could completely fill my round office and as I sat circled within an almost complete ring of book stacks around me, I knew that this was the warmest room in my richly abode. To sit at my desk, within the arms of my large, wooden and quite ornate chair was to sit within an erudite utopia. For in the ring of bookstacks that bordered my office, which only became gaped by a thin window, the dual office doors and my fireplace, there was a book from every corner of the earth, from every muse of the mind, for any curiosity needed known within our universe. For me, it was a veritable cornucopia of distractions.
On that day, when I had strayed my eyes from "Psychology of the Furred Islanders volume IV" to gaze at the falling snow from my window, I had quickly learned to regret ever escaping the imprisoning pages of the encyclopaedic book before me. My literary distractions immediately faded from their hierarchy in my mind. For the very same time that my eyes had left its pristine pages did my servant Wilfred Abraham come bursting through dual office doors, holding a sealed envelope within his canine paws.
My servant, Wilfred Abraham was a hybrid from the Furred Isles. In this case a mixture between canine and man. More specifically, his direct second species would compare to that of a collie. Like a man, he stood bipedal within a very human bodily shape, but his body was covered in collie's fur, he had the formation of a collie's sharp head and mane, a collie's fluffy tail, and his feet and hands had become a mix of man's hands and feet with that of a dog's paws. Although, having a hybrid servant might be looked down upon within some of the higher social orders, originally I had purchased him because as a man of science, and in reasons I will soon discuss, I had recently developed a growing curiosity towards them.
Hybrids are by definition, part man and part beast. When man had first discovered their tribal like villages on the isles they were first feared as demons before we saw that they too could be civilized like us. Over the next couple of generations missionary workers would visit the isles in hopes of saving these damned people. However, as integrated into our society as they had become over the years, it was within their own mysterious origins that our people had developed the most mythically arcane rumours. Only by searching in the lore's of our past did some people dwell within a collective imagination that would religiously damn these otherwise humane creatures. In believing this, they had developed for the creatures their own offensive monikers. Some would simply call them beasts, others would say demon, but mostly they were the children of the damned; or much simpler just called, "the damned."
Within my past, I too would admit that I was once like these people. Caught up in my own prejudices, for what science could not explain I had grown to fear. When they had first been brought overseas into our civilization I had been less then eager to hire them for work. However, their cheap wages and the natural strengths that came from their bestial blood, forced me (in staying economically relevant) to accept their employ. Of course the later actions of businesses practicing such behaviour would only continue to foster the growth of hate that people already felt towards the hybrid immigrants. Even I, despite knowing how beneficial they could become to my business, did not enjoy the fact that such beasts were stealing jobs from our fellow labouring man.
In the past, my dislike for these creatures had been strong, and as I held the envelope that Wilfred gave me within my hands, I was reminded of a time when I once was a very different man.
On the day when I had looked at the growing winter from my study's window, I had been a very old man. Sitting in the comfort of my own elegant robes, I often rested my wrinkling skin within the colourful and clothed embrace of its fabric; much in the same way a festering corpse would lie within the shrouds of its own funerary wrappings. When I first saw my own snow topped head I knew my hair was the first to betray my youth, but then the skin under my eyes began to fall, and before I knew it I had become an old man in the span of many life events. But time had not been the thing that aged me. I had become aged by the very corruption of a soul I had all too long held rotten. When men do bad things the sands of time begins to fall quicker for them.
On that day, when I had brought my attention to the envelop within Wilfred's paw-hands, I could only feel déjà-vu for a time when a similar scene had taken place. But to understand what was within THAT envelope once must go even farther back.
It was the early spring and Sir Edward Van Klootzak in celebration of his wife's, Bella Van Klootzak, birthday had once again made it his rightful duty to prominently showcase his wealth within an excessively rich and terribly audacious private event. Inviting but only his closest friends, family, and the men who owned the businesses that were seen as lesser to his, the event was less in celebration of the life of his late wife, and more in celebration of the fact that despite all his hardships (including the death of his wife during childbirth), he still was better than most of the guests he invited to the party.
His first act of monetary indulgence would have him renting out La Palais des Chiens Putain. A memorial and ancient site, La Palais des Chiens Putain, like a fine wine, became better with its age. Standing as a defined symbol of it own brilliance, the most central of three towers located in the front of the palace prominently displayed the house's own waving flag that defiantly stood tall even after the many revolutions, wars and civil unrests the building would face in its time.
Although the grandiose fashion of the building often caught the impressed eyes of its visitors as they first walk into it, it is within the many levelled cliff-side gardens that the palace became visually unique. Resting along the outer side of the sea-side cliff located behind the palace, they appear like gargantuan mushrooms growing out from the rock face. Seven large semi-circular stone balconies descended down in a seemingly random placement until hitting beach level. Connected together by various staircases, each balcony's garden is a world on its own. It was on these numerous gardens, by the sounds of crashing waves, that Sir Edward held his event.
As the guests arrived they quickly flooded through the Palace on their way to the back gardens. Only momentarily would they give pause. Halting ever so often to give ample and deserving consideration towards the displays of artistic visions that were placed in great esteem among golden frames all through the many rooms of the home. Each frame, from whispered voices, became a curator to each of the masterpieces they held. Their tiny voices telling tales of how each piece came to represent splendour and higher fortune. Traveling from room to room, being flooded amongst a crowd of overly friendly and gossipy company, myself and the other guests finally broke through large dual glass doors and came onto the first floor of the palace's seven balconies.
An artist's brush swished streams of purple and pink across the backdrop of a coming dusk. The party taking place later in the evening, from placed column to placed column various lines of strings held octagonical paper lanterns in a Zigzag pattern that would provide the luminance that the evening party would later call for.
In the centre, where its peak had also become a path for the paper lattern trail to cross, there was a large and white gazebo. Inside a band of various pale and elderly men played a symphony to which I could not recognize at the time. Something soft and pristine, it brought to mind the musical works of the renaissance performer only differentiated within a strong sense of lingering nostalgia. The tune was enjoyable, but nothing I had not heard before.
Beds of floral arrangements casted themselves randomly around the hemispherical space, so that the floral was noticeable by wandering eyes, but not too intrusive to begin to bargain against the space needed to situate the many coming guests.
To try and match the decadence of the occasion, I had in great squander wasted many coin on the suit I wore. From first glance, it's differentiation could not be seen amongst the other penguins that waddled around the lot, but I knew this suit had a special curve that hugged concave into my body, specially tailored long posterior flaps that dangled richly from my lower back, and a pair of pants that not only stiffened in their sense of pristine construction but fought to accentuate both my crotch and rear.
I was young and in my own abounding vanity my own physical appearance (both clothed and unclothed) had become quite important to me. With my body in tremendous physical shape, my black hair always slicked back gentlemanly and clean, my green eyes, and my strong sense of repartee, in physical and mental form I had become the nemesis to many a women's sense of innocence.
Unfortunately, at this party, where many a young girls gave me shy glances, it was Ms. Patterson, a wealthy and quite elderly heiress who would be the first to talk to me. Between fair gulps of the champagne she held in a crystal glass between two holding fingers , and the struggling breaths her weak lungs forced her to undergo, it was from within an outlandish olive-green dress (that only accentuated her aged breasts), that she spoke to me,
"Hello," And then she spoke my name, "I did not think you would be invited this year. I heard your business was in a bit of a rut as of late. But I suppose that is not true, as you were invited here. You know our host doesn't just invite any old rubble. You should be very proud to be here!" Her peculiar enunciations were enhanced by vocal oscillations that fought against the rough cough that had hit her at an old age. If she had not been such a latent bitch, I would have almost felt sorry for her.
"I assure you my business profitability is only being affected by a change in strategic development. As we come to face this new age, one must be prepared to pool resources to make the transition easier. A new dawn is amongst us; soon whatever was old will seem irrelevant in the new day."
She blinked at me with disapproving eyes before muttering, "I see..." and finishing off her glass. I had thought that would have been enough to have her leave me but her need to gossip seem to overwhelm her own integrity, "You know, one of those beastly savages is amuck here. I saw him. When I had asked why such a disgusting creature would ever be invited to a party like this, Edward simply told me he is here for business purposes only. Well, I heard that his daughter had recently become--" A half-cough, half giggle, and then a sip of a glass recently refilled by a passing servant, gave a brief pause, "joined at the hip." Again she giggled the champagne taking its effect early, "Anyways, that bastard of a creature, the father of the son who became engaged in this-- histoire d'amour apparently had blackmailed his way into this very party."
I had suddenly become interested in what the elderly drunk was telling me, "Having a man-beast here? Is that not a bit dangerous?"
"Apparently not as dangerous as having one's reputation spoiled. Just in case he gets any lewd ideas about me, I have a tiny pistol attached to my ankle."
"Thank you for the warning. Maybe I'll go talk to Edward about this." I said politely bowing my head to Ms. Patterson.
"Oh, I am very serious about these dangers. I heard that on the coastland town of Folkshire, a horseman had been practising demonic ritual in the local graveyard."
I ignored the comment as pure hogwash and stepped away from Ms. Patterson. Leaving her to gossip elsewhere my head became flooded with thoughts of my own imminent danger. At that time my business was just in the threshold of making the necessary adjustments to give space for the new coming hybrid workers. In my past, I had heard stories of revolutionary hybrids assassinating such prospective businessmen like myself in the streets and suddenly I felt extreme apprehension in being at that party. A twisting feeling of nervousness tormented my gut which then soon turned into a feeling of extreme determination in needing to talk to Edward about this.
After passing through various clouds of people, I finally saw Edward's robust and short stature leaning over a large stone curved banister as he overlooked the sea. But as I saw Edward I also saw HIM for the first time. He was a Panther-Man, his fur as black as the night that had begun to set all around us, tall, in his oddly fitting white suit, his clothes did little to hide the natural strengths his kind supported genetically. As I came closer, my heart stammered, and in my mind where a shouting voice told me I had been feeling fear, a whispering voice told me something else.
I admit, where I had indeed laid with many a women, there had been times in my youth where in the privacy of another man's chambers, or during the underground private viewing of a bootlegged pornographic film that I had engaged my fellow man in acts of sexual curiosity. I believed myself as a very straight man, I still do to some degree, but as an educated man, one who is open to free thought, I could also not refuse that there were many things to appreciate in my fellow man.
But when my eyes had first set upon the panther as I approached Edward, I could not quell my beating heart. As I came closer, to the degree of fretfulness I felt, something in my mind told me that I wanted to lay with him. Perhaps by his very anthromorphic figure I saw the man he would have normally been, a tall, handsome, muscular man, or perhaps in my anticipation and apprehension to hiring hybrids within my work force I had, by Freudian terms, fetishised the very thing I feared the most.
Either way my first engagement with the beast was not an easy one. I had been trained in many gentlemanly ways, and the art of speech was a forte of mine, but it would seem all practises became shot out of my brain as my proximity to him forced me to gaze on his crystal amber eyes. Edward was the first to raise a hand to shake mine. First excusing himself from the panther man and then wrapping an arm around me to bring me elsewhere, he left the panther man alone on the banister, where he remained stoic in his watchful gaze towards the sea.
"You're mad. You know that." I said forefront, before Edward even had a chance to speak, "Bringing one of THOSE to THIS party. Are you not afraid of your guests?"
"First of all, I am glad you came." Edward said, his voice trying to calm me as I shook nervously, "Second of all, if you look around you will notice that this place is well guarded." My eye quickly scanned the party and I felt foolish in not noticing the many blue-jacketed, kepi headed guards who patrolled the grounds with loaded rifles and sharpened bayonets. I suddenly felt a bit safer, "Thirdly, and foremost, I encourage you to treat my guest with absolute politeness and esteem. He is a dignitary from the Furred Isles and I wish to purchase land from him. Despite a quite hefty donation to him and his people, he has made it a prerequisite before signing the final agreement that he would be given passage to our lands and given proper opportunity to witness our people. He knows not much of our civilized lands and he wants to make sure that when his people come here they will be given the utmost respect."
I shook my head in confusion, "We're buying land in the Furred Isles now?"
"Well mostly I am buying people. I do not agree using force when monetary opportunities are available. But, to my own devices, I guess I am also buying the land. However, a proper businessman is like a magician: he never gives away his secrets."
The magician businessman comment had become a prideful mantra for Edward. He said it on every opportunity he could and always said it with the same belittling enunciation.
After resisting rolling my eyes at the shorter man I continued the conversation between us, "And the other guests. Will they not feel the same as I do?"
"Unfortunately, that is true. I've noticed that he's been getting quite the many unwelcoming glances from the guests and I feel that it might impact his view on our people." The short man pulled out a cigar from inside his jacket, "You've always been a friend, haven't you pal?"
I had not been his friend, not ever, and like most people, I really only spoke to him briefly at these yearly events. Still as a business man, and with Edward being so contentious over business agreements with his fellow practitioners, to become Edward's friend would certainly do me a favour in the prospective future.
"Sure. But don't ask what I think you are about to ask."
"Listen, I've got guests to entertain and reassure. It won't exactly be an easy task with the kitty cat tailing me around. All I ask is that you show him around the gardens, talk to him, and maybe even drop him a little lie about how good life is here. I'm just going to do my rounds and then I'll come find you guys. You've always been a friend to me, I know that now, and suddenly I'm feeling a lot better about that agreement you wanted to make with me last year."
"I'm really not comfortable doing this. I really don't like the hybrids."
"Look, just do this for me and I'll be sure to keep you in contact. I've been eyeing your business and I know what you are up to. Listen, I hold the Hybrid trade in this area. That's no joke. A partnership between us could be very resourceful for both of us."
I could not deny him that. He could certainly help my business if we were to partner. In accepting a bad night in favour for a grand tomorrow I caved in to his request.
Moving back through the crowd I moved up to the taller hybrid. My once calmed heart had accelerated itself until the moment became all too theatrically surreal. Had I been sweating? Was I shaking? As I clasped together clammy hands, I already felt the words falter behind my tongue and yet I had not said a word. Each minute became an hour and even though to walk from Edward to the Hybrid was barely a moment's stride, the trek I had ventured in my mind was much more expanded.
At first, I stood beside him, caught in silence as my mind damned the inoperativeness of my tongue. He ignored me for a while, pretended I was not there; instead his eyes stayed transfixed on the rolling waves of the Atlantic scenery. Mustering what I could from a single nerve of courage, I raised my hand, croaking my dry throat as I spoke,
"Hello, distant traveller," I immediately questioned my choice of words, "My name is," I spoke my name, "How is the party treating you?"
When he looked at me he moved his eyes but not his head.
"I've heard of your name before. I did not expect your smell to be so weak. A hunter of my people, yet from your very stench, I can tell that you are no predator. So speak clearly--what gives you the right to come to my land, to shovel up my people by the morsel, and bring them back here to work as common fodder for the teeth of your mechanized abominations." His voice, dark and raspy, his words were aggressive but his voice was not. Instead, his voice, in surprising well and clear articulation, came hinted with a sense of melancholy that hovered like a fading apparition from behind the bumps of his feline tongue.
"I'm sorry?" Is all I could muster as I was caught dumfounded by both the newness of the continuing experience and the brashness of the panther.
He turned his head to me and we met eyes. I had immediately become lost within the duel iris's that looked upon me questioningly. Their amber colour, a yellowish-orange, was enough to shoot a lightning bolt into my heart. The blood in my veins had suddenly turned pink and although I was not ready to admit it, from out of the wound the heart shaped arrow placed within my chest did a rose liquid leak out. Unbeknownst to me, my jaw dropped as the panther continued speaking, "I want you to know that I am not stupid. Your friend, Edward thinks of me that way but it is far from the truth. It is true that we had made a deal but I was not as easily fooled as he believes. I am not here because he has tricked me into surrendering my people. I am here because for my people, being forced to cross the seas and live within your world is a brighter alternative then being slaughtered by the thousands if we had stayed back home. It is not a much brighter alternative but at least this way we get to keep our life. What value it now has, I am not certain."
Feel pity for me when I say that even in the supremacy of my own wit, I was at a loss of words when the panther said such things to me while looking at me with such intense eyes. Taking one brief second to look back out at the sea, he let out a deep sigh, sniffed the air and then turned himself once again to face me. From feline lips he let a smile crack on his face,
"But I suppose this is supposed to be a party. And parties are meant to be fun, are they not? From my feline hearing I overheard your duties in seeing me here. Why not make your boss happy and show me around?"
"Certainly. I do not know much of this palace myself. I would like to explore it as well." I politely said, trying to ignore the panther's words spoken just a few moments ago.
With hand behind the panther's back, a gesture to indicate my guidance, I lead the panther down a curving staircase into the second garden below. By the light of the lanterns above, a white vine gateway lead us into a garden of Orchids. As we walked a curving stone pathway, we curled around various flower beds as Orchids of purple, white, and pinks lay elegantly designed within levelled flower beds constructed to adhere to various rudimentary geometric design. As I stopped to stare at one of the flowers closely I became spellbound by its certain nature defying mysticism. Even at night it was in full bloom. As I ran a finger along the long floral pedals that stretched out towards me, appearing like the calling fingers of a lustful lady, I remembered what they use to say about the palace's gardens. It was said that in myth, the flowers here were blessed to forever be in full bloom by the very tears of a lady scorned by a betrayed love. As I recalled the story I considered it a conversation starter,
"In the mythology of this palace it is said that the flowers stay in full bloom because-"
"You do not need to make conversation with me. I know you do not wish to do it on your own accord. Please, keep your tongue as a sign of respect for both of us." When he spoke, I caught a glimmer behind his eyes and although his face remained stone as he said those words, something told me that when he spoke them it hurt himself more then it could ever hurt me.
"Why did you come to this party if you only wish to mope about?"
"I came to this party for the exact reason your friend told you I had come. I wanted to see how exactly your people live. How exactly you people live despite the fact that you are the ones who sign the contract that genocide my people. I came here because I had to want to see the face of the murders who force my people out of their homes." Again, there was that glimmer in his eye, it was like a glazing sense of innocence. He was not an aggressive man, I could tell by that glistening in his eyes. Even as he continued to speak he could not bring himself to raise his voice, "And yet where I expected to come to this party and walk amongst the faces my people have known to be evil, all I see around me are the smiling faces. You do not see the blood your ink comes to represent as you sign away our lives. Even now, I look at you, as I smell you, I know you are not an evil man. Yet you have the capacity to do such evil things."
I had started to become annoyed, "I understand it may be hard to make the transition from your isles to our lands but I think you fail to see what our people can offer you as citizens amongst us."
"And even if we were considered citizens amongst your own in this land, what exactly have you tried to offer my kin?"
"Do not take for granted the gifts of modernity. Medicine, literature, art, we truly are a brilliant society."
The covering lens, that hid his stare behind a shielding glass of innocence, fell from its frame and in a flash a mean glare had begun to make me fear for my life. He grumbled something but I did not understand as he had quickly turned his back to me and begun to walk away.
I ran to catch up to him as he came to the adjacent descending staircase on the other side of the garden, but just as I was about to leave the garden, from the corner of my eye, did I notice some scoundrel who had begun to take a lustful serving maiden behind one of the flowerbeds.
By the time I had caught up to the panther (whose strides were long indeed) I had reached the next garden. The third balcony was not much of a garden but instead converted into a buffet for the guests. As I passed by the tables of food lined up in long rows, I became enveloped by the many smells the foods around me offered. One table would dance fresh herbs under my noise, while another table would fully explore my nasal cavity, ticking my nose hairs with scents of various mouth watering meats. Picking up a chicken leg and chewing the moist white meat directly off the bone I spoke with my mouth full,
"See? We are a society of plenty. No one goes hungry in our lands."
"And yet I have seen my people fight over a loaf of bread in the streets."
The panther was unfazed by the buffet around him and only continued walking. Dropping the half eaten chicken leg back onto the table, in the few seconds I took to do this, he somehow already managed to get many strides away. As he descended the next set of stairs, I was about to follow, only from the corner of my eye did I first give witness to a wide gutted man sitting at a table in his lonesome. Caught in some sort of frenzy, the man had been indulging on an entire goose as he sat. Using no utensils, he instead stabbed pudgy fingers into the goose, ripping the meat off of bone like a wild animal would with its claws.
I descended the stairs and came to the fourth garden, it was known as the social garden. Various faunas sat within a single and bordering flower bed that decorated all along the garden's perimeter. A circular expanse in the middle of the garden housed many various people gathered under a large wooden gazebo. From the rice paper screens, that became the walls of the gazebo, I could see silhouettes of people as they navigated around the space. Silhouette friends shook hands with each other and silhouette friends laughed with each other. I stopped a while to gaze at the friendly sight as the panther pushed open the door and walked into the mini party within. In losing sight of him I ran to join the party in the gazebo.
As I searched the small expanse of the interior area, I became swallowed by the conglomeration of people inside. Standing almost shoulder to shoulder, to squeeze past the bodies to get to the exiting door on the other side of the gazebo was no easy task. By the most polite means possible, in a space so tight and enclosing, I pushed and shoved people away from me, using my shoulders to move my body through the thin cracks between people. All the while I could hear their whispers,
"Sell your business to me. It'll be very profitable." A man said his lips close to another man's ear.
"This ring cost me dearly, but it was worth it. A girl can't walk around looking like any old street trash can she?" An old lady said, waving her ring around an envious group of women.
"So we make the deal and now he's giving me 25% of his profit margins. We shake hands, and just as he thinks he's made a new friend I--" A man says speaking proudly.
By the time I had reached the end of the gazebo, my breath had turned heavy as I became caught within the grasp of stress. In escaping that gazebo, I had felt blessed, and when I ran to catch up with the hybrid I dared not look back.
The next floor, the fifth floor, was the smoker's garden. Small circular flower beds decorated an open expanse that became blanketed by a collection of assorted pillows. Poppies, tobacco, and many other smoking herbs grew within the various flower beds, as gentlemen and fancy women laid across the many cushions, as pipes, cigars and other smoking apparatus were either placed into the floor or carried by finely dressed servants. The men indulged in the cloudy hazes around them, smells of burning tobacco and other relaxing drugs wafting through the air like the sea's thick morning fog. As I stepped around them to catch up to the panther, I was careful to not disturb their rest.
"Leisure is not hard to find in my land. The work may be tough, but we are a people can enjoy relaxation as well."
The panther did not look back at me as I spoke but just continued walking through the crowd,
"It is easy to dull your mind with pleasures," he muttered, "when other people forgo your pain."
The panther had already made it to the next staircase at the other side of the garden. As I navigated myself behind the lazy crowd my eye began to take notice to the people that lay below me. They did not speak to each other, they did not even move. Instead, as though they were paralyzed they seemingly become complacent towards life, uncaring as they lay on their backs with mouths open towards the sky above them.
As the smoke became thicker as I reached the centre of the expanse. In a misstep I had accidently stepped on the hand of an older man. I apologize but his only reaction was that of an apathetic and low groan.
Coughing on the smoke now, I reached the next descending staircase and continued to chase after the panther.
The next garden was a brilliantly beautiful rose garden. The red roses, caught in the mystics of the palace, were in full bloom in the light of the lanterns above us. The aroma they wafted into the air smelt of pure brilliance. A crossed pathway divided the rose beds into four fenced sections. The posts of the fence were tall columns that stretched above and supported a grated awning ceiling. The roses had completely grown over the column and the celing, so that when you walked through the crossed path you were walking within a floral tunnel. I spoke out to the panther that was at the centre of the garden's crossed path.
"In our appreciation for the finer things in life, does it not become evident that we have truly mastered the beauty of the world around us?"
"Every rose has it thorns." He shook his head and kept walking.
By accident I had placed my hand on one of the rose bushes and found this to be true. My finger was punctured as I sucked on the blood of the wound. Starring at the rose that had cut me, I noticed that my own blood had become a decoration on the rose's thorn like a proudly worn cloak. I wondered how such a beautiful plant could ever have the desire to harm me.
In trying to catch up to the panther I entered the centre of the gardens cross. Just as I had stepped within the centre, I heard a loud smacking sound that had caught my discretion. To the seaside direction of the garden had two men begun to brawl on the path. Launching fists at each other, each dull smack came with a spray of blood that decorated the leaves of the rose behind them. I had a desire to break up the fight but then I realized I still had not caught up to the panther.
Leaving the fight be, as it was best that I do not get involved anyways, I descended the next staircase and came into the sixth garden.
The next garden was known as the women's garden and truly was the most beautiful garden out of all the seven. A curving pathway turned into a wooden bridge that arched over a still micro-river that was built into the suspended garden balcony. Narcissuses grew along the water's edge as the stream separated grassy turfs from each other. On both sides, upon those landed turfs Calla Lilies grew in bundles around the area as a large ornate fountain on the other side of the bridge continually spouted water.
Around the garden, women of varying fashions paraded their dresses proudly. I became fascinated in the elaborate dresses that these women wore. Each dress brilliantly made with its own sense of individuality, its own sense of beauty, I could not choose my favourite dress. In a giggle I spoke to the panther who stood idle for but a second so he could pick a narcissus flower from its stem.
"Look how fair our women are!" I said, stuck gawking at the women around me.
"Fair in body, perhaps, but not in mind." The panther dropped the narcissus flower head into the water and kept on walking.
"Oh come on!" I relented, wishing that the panther would at least enjoy one of the many gardens the palace had to offer.
I continued chasing after the panther and I had almost finally caught up to him when once again my distracted eye did wander. Oddly I noticed just how in the positioning of the paper lanterns above that they had become like spotlights on the women's faces as they wandered around the expanse. As they moved in and out of the light of the lanterns, the image of their faces appeared and disappeared in the darkness of the night. On each, pale and powdered face, I saw not women who were enjoying themselves but instead the opposite. Narrowed eyes look onto the fellow woman in judgement as they crossed paths in their seemingly random wanders. Narrowed eyes, nasty eyes, almost discomforted eyes: none of these women enjoyed what they were wearing; none of them enjoyed parading around. However all the while, even though there were no spectators to seem them but themselves, they constantly moved around the expanse as though they were part of some show. My interested in these women faded and I ran to catch the panther at the final garden.
The seventh garden had a staircase leading onto it, but no descending staircase. Instead the balcony garden sat at near ground level with its front open. Along the curve of the hemispherical garden a staircase descended onto the beach below. The panther waited for me on the beach, standing with his bare foot-paws at the very edge of the water's tide. His hybrid-modified shoes abandoned at the foot of the frontal staircase. In the distance, he had become like a strange white beacon, only his coat visible, his fur blending well into the night.
Stepping off of the stone staircase, I sat my foot down into the sands of the beach below. When I had stood on the highest, first garden the beach had appeared miniaturized within its golden streak of land. A carpet of dirt that rested before the sea's rolling waters; it had seemed so small from up on that peak. But now as I stood on top of the grains of this beach, it became a world of pure nirvana. With no paper lanterns to light the space around me, the night turned my visual reality into a void while my other senses became strengthened in compensation. In my sharpened senses, I heard as the crashing waves rolled their colossal shapes triumphantly out into the sea, I could feel the hairs along my neck pay their respects as the oceanic breeze danced against their thin bodies, and as I breathed the air, I felt as my tongue become titillated as the ocean gave a strange taste to the maritime air around me.
I walked up the beach and finally caught up to the panther. Feeling rather defeated, I half-sighed as I spoke,
"At least our beaches are nice."
"That they are." He said, a paw innocently played with the buttons of his suit jacket as he opened it up, "It truly is your own ignorance that blinds you. In your mind's eye we are inferior to you. On our isles we do not have a surplus of food; we do not have elaborate fashions, and in our scientific inadequateness we are certainly more technologically limited. But yet as I give witness to your so called sophistication, I still prefer my home. I still prefer the world I had lived in, rather more-so the world my ancestors had lived in before your people came to us. And if you cannot see why this is, then perhaps you are the ones who are inferior."
I had suddenly realized that despite all the extravaganza, glamour, and riches of the gardens past, it was standing on that beach that I truly enjoyed the most. The cooling breezes in my hair, the soft sand below my feet, and the rolling waters before me, became a rare piece of the natural world lost by the curse of our own growing industry. The beach was a real-life watercolour, and as I listened to the panther speak, I heard his words, and reflected on his nostalgia despite it being within a world I had never truly been a part of.
The panther slid the jacket off of his shoulders and let it fall into the sand below. As he continued to speak, he then began to undo the cufflinks on his white undershirt,
"I had wondered what kind of person you would have been if you were born in a different time, in a different world. I do not judge you and I do not truly judge your people and even though I give witness and testimony to your own humanitarian falters, I am truly not mad at anybody but the cruel hand from that sense of destiny that misguides people into realms of godliness. " His cufflinks undone, he took off the bowtie around his neck and then began to undo his shirt, "I know I should be mad, I know I have every right to be mad, but as a feline, I am akin to a greater sense of smell, and in a certain way I have been given the ability of an insight your people seem to lack." He opened his shirt, let it fall off of his shoulders, and it too rested in the sand below, "I can smell you my friend. Are you aware of what I can smell on you?"
The top portion of the panther was now full exposed and with my eyes fully adjusted to the dark of the night, I became aware of how strong, how handsome of a body he had. In body he had become an exemplary display of masculinity; of truly uninhibited and natural strength. There was no hiding the arousal I felt when my eyes had set upon the exposed figure of the feline man. Despite the covering of black fur that decorated his body, I could still make out the human quality within his shape, and in the gaze of the desire he inspired within me I could not help but stare. Caught starring, I barely noticed as he begun to undue his pants, his gaze still transfixed on the ocean before him.
"What....w-w-w-what are you doing?" I took a step back, my heart stammering.
"Answer my question, what do you think I smell on you?" He turned his gaze towards me and despite the darkness around us, his eyes, as though possessing some sort of glow somehow had remained visible.
The silence that momentarily filled the space between us became disrupted by the panther's chuckle as he continued to speak, "I could smell fear. There was fear on you when you first came up to me in the top garden." The first button of his trouser was opened as he turned his taller body towards me. I was shaking, I almost felt disgusted, but I did not falter away as he made his advance towards me. "I could smell nervousness. You've never really talked to one of my kind before, I could tell that." A soft hand-paw fell on my cheek, I wanted to protest it, I wanted to push the panther away, but by the very growing sensation within my own trousers, my body destined me to stay, "But despite those primal scents on you, I smelled something else, something that was much deeper inside of you. That despite, your fear of me, your arrogance towards me, I could also smell your arousal towards me. " In my mind, I could feel a glass pane shatter as feline lips met my own. I could not reciprocate the kiss at first. The initial situation mollified me as I became limp and dumb, as the kiss melted my own physical form. It was just a peck on the lips but the sensation it coursed through my body was positively electrifying.
Strong arms embraced my frame and he pulled me closer towards his kiss. The kiss grew in passion as he forced my lips to part against his own. The kiss quickly turning into a desiring French, as I began to reciprocate the gesture I could feel our own arousals swelled against each other, caught in the barrier of the clothes that they became imprisoned within.
Kissing a man and kissing a hybrid is different but not as different as many would imagine. To kiss lip against muzzle was certainly a strange feeling but not completely alien. I easily navigated the kiss, and even began to enjoy the slight ways instances of beast would become implemented within our shared lips. The sensation would come with just a hint of animalistic savageness but would have no limit to how much it aroused my own growing need.
"You see, on a most primal level your lust towards me speaks so much more than your attire, your stature, or your sense of refinement ever could." He turned back towards the ocean, dropped his trousers and then ran into the waves. Something in my body conflicted against my mind's inactiveness, but my thoughts had become indefinitely voided. Instead, I only turned my head and watched as his nude tail and well resolved behind, both firm and perfectly rounded, disappeared into the dark waves of the ocean. Standing within waist high water, the panther then called out to me, "Swim with me. Let us embrace as the brothers your body wishes for us to become."
He turned his body and dove into the water and started to crawl his way into a distant and outwardly curving rocky cove. The cove, in the figure of a crescent, stretched from the wall cliff of the palace out into the ocean.
At first I thought my own hesitation was in swimming within such shady waters that were both unkempt and aggressive-- but in truth, it was the very confliction of "to do" or "not to do" that had me beached. But as the dark swimmer began to disappear more and more into the cover of night, unscarred of the waves that threateningly crashed against the surface of the dark pool, I threw caution to the wind and quickly disrobed myself leaving my clothes beside the panthers.
My own nude body entered the water, and suddenly the water chilled me with ice fangs that sunk past my flesh and into my bone. But I did not care, and even though the ocean growled at me like a rabid dog, I too dove into its dark depths and chased after the panther towards the rocky cove.
From a distance the waves did not seem as menacing as they did from up close. But quite suddenly small hurdles of waves became increasing impeding as they turned into titan walls. At first my confidence was unwavering and I believed that I could survive this water, but as fatigue hit me I became a puppet to the dark waters around me. Soon enough, the foreboding body of miasmic liquid started to pull me under its surface as crashing waves slammed against my body. For a while I could rise back to the surface, fighting on behalf of my own instinct but eventually I relented to the strength of the beast around me and could only feel an odd sensation of acceptance as I let it swallow me and carry me deeper into its dark depths.
I awoke coughing and wheezing in a brightly lit grotto somewhere deep within the cove. As my blurred vision began to focus on the rocky walls around me, I gave notice to the luminescent flora that grew along the cave walls. Growing like a mossy vine, it covered the walls in a dazzling array of reds, greens and blues. Each strand of vine was like a glowing vein that pumped its blood liquid into the flowers that grew off of it. The bigger the flower, the brighter the light created.
Even though I had only heard of such flowers in rumours, I knew what they were called. Perhaps a souvenir from an expedition to the Draconian Lands, Draco-Vine Flowers were rarely seen within our world as the inhabitants of the Draconian Lands, scaled hybrid monstrosities, were extremely xenophobic and well adept at defending their land. Evidently however, Edward had managed to extract some and now within this grotto had begun his own secret farm.
Finally breaking my haze, I realized that the panther was knelled down beside me, he was still nude and his fur was still wet. As he spoke, he laughed,
"I had not realized that us felines were better swimmers then man."
"You saved me?"
"That I did. Consider it a favour. And if you cannot do that, accept it as a favour of goodwill. From my people to yours."
"Thank you." Sitting up, I lurched my body forward and wrapped my arms around the panther. He paused a bit, shocked perhaps, but then eventually reciprocated the hug. For a while we were joined in that embrace, but as my body continued to awake from the shock of almost drowning, other parts of me began to awake as well. My arms had been wrapped around the shoulders of the panther but with a solidifying desire growing within myself, I could not help as I slowly dropped my hands along the furred back of the feline. My slow hand-scan quickly surveyed the tight muscles of his back but just as I had almost reached the entire length of the panther's back he broke the embrace.
"I believe this may be in an inappropriate time. I will get you back to your people to make sure you are well."
"I do not want to go back. Not yet. Let us share a moment together. I feel that I owe you that much." Grabbing the feline by the shoulders in a tight grip, I pulled the black cat towards me as our lips met again. This time I was the one to part our lips as the passion within our kiss grew yet again. As my arousal stiffened out from me, strong and straight, my own sexual inebriation casted me into a state of extreme need. As the passion of the kiss grew, so did the closeness of our bodies. Eventually the panther shuffled his body, positioning himself over me and grasping both of our members within a single padded paw.
One paw-hand was delicately placed on my head as the other locked our erections within the single and firm grasp. As he was taller than me, so too was his manhood larger than mine own. My length, not unimpressive by any means, felt stunted against his as he too came to grow into his own full arousal.
His pumping paw worked our duel cocks as they became stimulated within the same grip. Our erections together, our tongues caught dancing in a duet, and our bodies pressed within the closest proximity that our physical being allowed, we had begun to become like a unified being. A reflection of each other as our pleasures became much the same.
A low purr began to hum from within him and as our mouths became pressed, lips to lips and our bodies became pressed chest to chest I could feel his verbal vibrations within myself. In matching this purr I had begun to moan, feeling the build up of my own climatic release but before I could achieve such glamour, the panther broke the kiss and released his erection from my own.
Before disappointment could be realized the panther began to rub his muzzle into my neck. His paw, that once rubbed our erections together, now rose along my hairless chest, moving from my own visibly strong abdominals, onto my pectorals, where he danced a paw-finger in a circular motion around my hardened nipple. Where his finger first played, soon became replaced by his mouth as he danced his moist tongue around my nipples, the bumped nature of his tongue feeling rough but at the same time quite enjoyable. A clear liquid welling from my own cockhead, I coursed my fingers through his wet fur, petting and rubbing him as he adoringly suckled on my nipple.
Even though I was aware of the second paw that now rubbed the cheeks of my rear-end, I did not care as the panther continued to explore the rest of my chest with his tongue. But as the paw-finger made its way onto my opening and attempted to penetrate it I spoke in protest,
"Stop!" I cried out, "It has been quite some time since any man had been there. "
He did not say a word; he did not apologize, but instead shifted our bodies in a way that my rump became elevated between his paws, and his muzzle became pointed towards my lower opening. Extending his tongue, I felt as the rough bumps slathered saliva onto my hole, lubricating it with a healthy dose of feline saliva.
I gasped at the odd sensation of the panther against my hole. It was not unwanted, nor did it feel painful, but the odd sensation left a questionable response in my body. It was not completely enjoyable but it was not completely comfortable either, but as a paw-finger began to explore my hole yet again, the sensation of being penetrated had become more enjoyable.
One finger eventually met two fingers, as he prepped me to take his fully-extended genitalia. The long length of his own genital being stimulated within his other paw. The pumping fingers that inserted themselves into me repeatedly had me moaning again.
With my desire fully outstretched, I too rubbed my own erection, pausing at my head only to feel the pool of clear sexual liquid that poured off the head of my penile opening. Eventually the sensation of climatic release built up in me again and in a forced cry I pleaded,
"Take me in this cave."
The panther turned my body over so that I was bent over and facing downwards. One paw grasped my underbelly as he lined his arousal against my opening with his other paw. With strong hips he pushed forward and I winced as I began to take his size. Not just in length, but in his width also, he tested the limits of my own inner walls as he continued to slowly push forward. Hearing my rather audible groans the panther paused when his entire length had made its way inside of me,
In a cautious voice he spoke to me, "Am I hurting you?" He wondered.
"Please, it is fine. Keep going." I replied, taking in a deep breath as he complied.
As his thrusts increased in power and speed, the discomfort I felt decreased. His own sexual passion grew with each completed thrust cycle as he quickly pumped in and out of me. His animalistic instincts taking over, as his paws gripped onto my under belly and held my frame strongly in place. Heavy breathing, a deep purr, and strong thrusts, turned this experience something beyond any sexual act I had ever had been apart of. Be it with women or be it with man. In the enjoyment I felt, I had relented myself towards the shaft that penetrated me and in doing so I had become sexually bound as the slave to my dominating master.
Faster still he gave into me, the erotic display first seemingly evolved past any sense of time but then continued to evolve past any sense of space as the world around me became abstracted. The luminescent flora that at first had only given light to the chamber had now become like painted splotches within a realm of pure aesthetic appreciation as I became intoxicated by the very sexuality the panther resonated out from behind his dark ebony fur. Even the stone floor to which he took me on began to feel, less like cold rock, and more akin to the comforts of the most luxurious of beds. The naturalness of such a realization heightened by the very, natural, visceral, and animal acts of sexuality that we had became paired within.
I could hear him growl from behind me as his climax built, his muscles firming, his thrusts coming with a sense of accelerated desperation as he fought to control himself. Acting from instincts of his pure-animal side, he suddenly nipped the back of my neck, marking it, and drawing a bit of blood.
"Ah-" I winced, the pain sudden but erotically sensual.
Realizing he had bit me, he corrected his instincts and placed his muzzle in the crook of my neck. My own arousal needing stimulation, he placed his paw onto my erection and begun to pump it powerfully. My climatic build had come sudden and quickly as I shot my stream of white seed onto the rock below me. Feeling my own release shudder through my body was enough for the panther and soon he too gave into his own release as he exited my entrance and shot himself over the rocks as well.
Our sexual bonding over, my weakened body fell into a state of relaxation as I laid onto the rock below me. The panther joined, moving so he could spoon me from behind, wrapping his arms around me and bringing me closer into the warmth of his fur. Although we had finished out act, the purr that resonated in his body since the beginning of our passionate affair still carried itself as we cuddled. The vibrating sound becoming like a lullaby that would soothe me as I fell asleep into the arms of the dark furred hybrid.
It was then that I realized, before my moment of slumber, that I did not even know the name of the fur I had slept with.
"So what is your name, anyways?" I mumbled within my own exhaustion.
"It's Lucci." He chuckled weakly.
"Lucci? It is nice to meet you."
And as we curled, bonding our bodies as though trying to complete the prophecy of Aristophanes, questions of society, of right and wrong, of my own beliefs, became disregarded as love flooded over the thoughts of my busying mind. The future-- my future, did not matter as I cuddled this panther within the seaside cave as we fell asleep within a spectrum of multicoloured stars above us.
But it did not matter if I could not consider my own future; our tragic end would soon come anyways. For I did not realize that upon entering that final garden, I had myself stumbled into a new strand of destiny. That the minute I let myself fall for the panther on those sands so golden, I had also let myself become corrupt by the seventh demon so foul. And as the time between us would pass and as the snow would first fall, it would be then that my pistol would clasp its flint lock against itself. It would be then that the booming shot would break the silence of a winter wasteland so serene. It would be then, that I would become aware of the final evil I had ingested. For every begining had an end and in those final days of our romance, it would be not be me that pulled the trigger, but my pride.
But that story has yet to be told....
Author's Notes: Tune in Next We-(well probably not next week, whenever exams/essays stop raping me really), for this stories stunning [and tragic] conclusion. Same Fur Time, Same Fur Channel!
After being inspired by a review on my last single story submission: "The Last Show of a Hard Rocker" in following a developing fantasy I began to imagine myself writing a submission for Bad Dog Book's erotic anthologie, Fang. Now I know that I'm way behind on the deadline (Almost a month) and won't be submitting the story, I thought it would be an interesting practise to write something based off of a pre-existing theme anyways. Maybe it'll even motivate me to actually submit something next time. Anyways, the inspiration for the story came from the theme, "Best Enemies." Well, in all honesty, that inspired the plot. For quite some time, after watching, "Age of Innocence," I REALLY wanted to do a turn of the century period piece but could not find a plot idea. I knew it was going to be experimental, a play on setting, but I needed something more with my plot.
Well that's where I got the "best enemies" idea of this paper. Unfortunately, in the story I constructed I would have to use Human/Furry in terms of how I imagined this story playing out (a part of furry I don't usually invest it) but as I really began to expand on the story I really started to enjoy how I thematically could use "fur" characters in a reflective piece concerning certain aspects of history. In this case, I really like how Fur characters within this story became a surrogate for racial representation. It is very much a story about racism, about capitalistic blinding, but by using Fur I believe a whole spectrum of races can be interpreted. That was the intention. Don't feel afraid to tell me if I failed in showing this.
I'm happy with the story on a whole, I think the sex scene could have melded better with the rest of the piece, but I think only briefly within it do I lose a sense of flow. I just can't figure out where. It's harder to edit LONGER pieces. I think in future goals I want to work on making my stories smaller, I want to write better science fiction (ugh my Cybernecromancy story..we need to talk) even though I think my rising obsession with Nu Disco could help, and in the future I'm thinking about trying a simpler, less subjectively thematic erotic piece as both a more accessible piece and a piece to which I can focus more on perfecting the art of erotic writing.
But for now it's paper, paper, paper, exam and then home for the holiday's baby!