Harvest
This story came to me after reading this past week's Thursday Prompt, which was "harvest," in the shower. I built upon it, and ran with it. I'm pretty satisfied with it, despite it's relative shortness. Warning, however, that the story has sex in it... but I glossed over it. So if you're here lookin' for hot, hot lovin's... probably not what you're gonna get.
Still, no kids.
Harvest
by pyrostinger
A Thursday Prompt response - check out www.furaffinity.net/user/poetigress for details
I love raves.
There are many reasons why I do. But I think the thing that I find most captivating about them is the sheer amount of energy circulating in the room, in the darkness. Lights shining, people moving, dancing, everything culminating in the neon blur of glowsticks, jerking wildly in a controlled sort of chaos... I think that's it. The controlled chaos of a rave is what attracts me to them, time after time.
This particular one took place in a semi-abandoned club, on every Friday like clockwork. However, what happens there is never the same... planned spontaneity, if you will. Oh, there's a DJ, and somebody brings alcohol and opens a bar, but aside from that... it's come what may. About the only thing that one can count on is wild energy and dancing.
With so many here to let loose in the dark, I find I can slip in and out easily. I know every face that comes here, by heart. They, however, hardly know me. I'm a shadow in the dark... unseen until, of course, I desire to be seen. It matters not to me who I pick... I'm not picky when I'm in the rave. I see many types, many species; foxes, wolves, rabbits, deer, humans; predators and prey, all here for one purpose. To have fun. To forget about all the trials and tribulations of life... and whatever else it may spawn, and just dance. For the most part.
For the friskier, or for those who can be convinced that way, there are the side rooms. Little pockets of alone time, poorly soundproofed, but nobody cared. For some, they could tune out the noise and the madness of outside the room, and focus on their partner... or partners. I did say "friskier," did I not? For others, counting myself, the music was the background, rolling through the experience, making it that much better to pound the pulsing beat. It infiltrated everything, enhancing it, making those pulse-pounding moments... more.
Of course, when I said that some took more than one person to the back rooms, I can't count myself as one of them. At least, not regularly. There are the occasional moments when I feel as if I want another on top of the one I have, but then I'm greedy. Like I said, I knew everybody here... and the new people are always appealing. For the most part, I focus on my... prey... individually.
Tonight, I was surfing the crowd, dancing and smiling and generally having a good time, but looking for my next target. I hoped that there would be a new face in the crowd, and hoped not in vain. Don't get me wrong, I do like everybody I do take away, for their own reasons... but I do want fresh meat. Every predator does. The excitement of going in for the "kill" can match... very little, except for the act itself.
The newcomer was a cheetah, a lean, almost gangly female. She gave off the impression of height, and was all legs, with a relatively small bust. I had a feeling, however, that she projected that intentionally. Her clothes reflected that, an almost scandalously short skirt that drew more attention to her legs and away from the neon sports bra. I saw her as she stalked from the bar, my eyes riveted on her graceful form, glancing across the crowd as if she owned it. That... amused me, honestly. Amused and intrigued me. Still, I observed her... waiting to see her hit the crowd.
I must say, the decision gratified me as I sat at a table, nursing some kind of alcoholic drink the barman mixed for me. Tossing down whatever was in her cup, she strode directly into the crowd, making it ripple around her. And she danced... pulling off moves I can only describe as graceful, and a little frightening. Her energy was palpable, visceral. The crowd knew it, and as I could feel it from where I was, I wondered how much the rabble was subjected to. I had to find out. Tossing down the rest of my drink, I got up and moved into the crowd, gliding through it to the center. Unlike her, I didn't leave much of a wake.
Oh, but to feel that energy... she was full of it. The beat pulsed through her, and her movements made it seem like she was apart of the music, and apart of the masses, but also separate, unique. My desire only grew as the song slipped into another, the circle around her disappearing to incorporate her fully, but still she danced. And with her every movement, though the crowd no longer singled her out, she still sent shockwaves through the rest of them.
I had to have her.
There were, of course, at least six others surrounding her, trying to curry her favor... a good mix of predators and prey in various states of dress, but I cut through them like a scythe through wheat. I was going to have her, and I made my presence known, aggressively pursuing her though she fought to keep me at arms length, like all her other suitors. Eventually, she knew that the gauntlet had been thrown down, and the crowd did as well. As if the planets aligned themselves, the DJ started to play something new, high energy as the crowd parted around us to see our moves.
She, the challenged, moved immediately to attack, showing off a few more moves from her expansive repertoire. I fired back, smirking at her, and she was arrogant enough to instead push up against me, then push me away, causing me to stumble back a few steps as she danced her response. When my sheer amusement at her gall caused her to dance on, mocking me, I took the challenge she threw in my face, matching her step for step. Gradually, I gained control, and by the time she realized this, it was far too late. Soon, I had her spinning and dancing for me as if it was a choreographed routine, her face burning in a blush that none could see but I could smell.
As the song came to a close, I pressed her up against me with a flourish, her back to my front. At that point, of it wasn't clear enough already, she could feel the interest she had aroused in me. We stood there for a moment, a heart beat, recovering our breath, and she made a minute push against me. I would have celebrated right there, that I had tamed this kitty with my own feline movements, but now I wanted to take her to a slightly slower dance, to recover our energy. I needed hers... I was feeling a bit low. By dance's end, I was feeling much better... though I admit to have been siphoning off of her. Her energy seemed boundless, and she gave it away, even with the considerably low tempo song. But we both knew that she was mine, and when I drew her away from the dance floor to the back, she came with me without complaint.
Whoever masterminds these parties, somebody I have yet to fully figure out, knows what happens when you add backrooms to a rave. There was a hallway of six rooms, guarded by a large hippo. The bouncers switched off every few hours, and were pretty good at sifting out all of the rabble, and keeping people in line should alcohol get them too troublesome. After all, they've stopped me more than a few times, taking my prey to the side and questioning them to make sure they're under their own will and not of any other substance. I've patrolled this party for at least a year now, and while I know all the guards, they won't let their guard down for anything or anyone, which speaks of good training and good instincts. Of course, they can still be convinced to let me in despite their misgivings; I can be very persuasive. Here, however, there was no suspicion of clouded judgment, so it was a wink, a nod, and in we went.
She didn't want to wait. I loved it. As soon as the door closed (probably a few seconds before it did), she was on me, pressing me against the wall. Her passion flamed brighter, hotter, and I rode it, my mind flooded with the energy she gave me. It livened up my own slightly ebbing libido, and I drove her against the opposite wall, pressing my lips to hers as fiercely as she did mine. Her claws raked down my shirt, almost tearing it, and I figured to dispense with the pleasantries. I still needed some measure of privacy...
Grabbing her wrist, I pushed her into the nearest room after checking that it was unoccupied. It was sparsely furnished, like all the rooms, but there was a bed and that's all that was needed. I let out a short growl as I pushed her onto the bed, and finally let myself go. I fed on her. I fed on her lips, on her neck, on each of her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her core. There was not an inch of her body that went untouched by me, her spotted fur soon matting with sweat and saliva. Clothes were dispensed, and soon I had her open and accepting, driving myself into her while I continued to feed.
Among cubi, the old ones like to draw from one emotion and one emotion only, placing their target in such a situation as to deliver the most energy from that emotion, and draw it out of them. The new breed find more creative methods, and generally draw from a variety of emotions at the same time, which very often leave their victims more drained, but better able to recover. To be honest, we quite fell into the practice. Of course, when the feeding is done, often this leaves our victim as quite the mess. Some will walk away, sated. Others... will stay behind.
When I finished inside her, riding the wave of her massive energy of joy, tapered with strong helpings of lust and fulfillment... I had drawn out of her also sadness, disappointment in herself, and others. It seems that my prey was a student in college, suffering from some failing grades. As we lay together on the bed, I offered a few words of advice, something I feel I can do, drawing on my many, many years of experience. As we cleaned up with some thoughtfully provided towels, she left, but not before leaving me her phone number. Already, I felt her energy begin to make a massive rebound.
This is the reason why I like raves. People like her... like... what was her name? Penelope. I could harvest and build up Penelope, and others like her; they were abundantly available at such a high-energy location. And they were so delicious. both physically, and mentally.