Blackrose Theatre Company
A stage hand catches the eye of the prima donna and two worlds are set to collide.
This is an adult story. Don't read if you're not legally allowed to. Duh.
So... I've written this as a once off, there may be sequels I don't know. As you can probably tell I'm bad at continuations. It's mainly just an exercise I did to practice. Enjoy it for what it is. _ Favourite and Rate if you like it! _
Edited by the lovely https://riotousruse.sofurry.com/
...
"Blackrose Theatre Company", the words larger than life as they stared down at him from their billboard, three large spotlights burned so brightly on them that it almost seemed like they had a shining halo. Tom supposed that was indeed, the point. You could see the sign from just about anywhere within a couple of miles; from the busy arterial highways pulsing with headlights, the smaller, bustling shopping streets and even the darker, dirtier alleyways. The theatre company itself was nestled into a less bustling area of the city, surrounded by daytime shops and storage facilities - but he had read it did surprisingly well for an establishment not in an entertainment district.
The crime in the area was really low despite the murky looking urban scenery. Tom was a statistics guy, before even applying for the job he had to check out everything to do with the local area. He had pinpointed that a job as a maintenance hand at the Blackrose was the best opportunity out of the miserable-looking shortlist he had created. It was safe enough: only a single train line away and even with the low hourly rate, once he had calculated all costs, it worked out the best. It was what he did best, number crunching and bean counting. All he needed the job for was paying his way through his accounting degree.
Tom never aspired to much more than that: safety and profitability. He was following his father's footsteps and hopefully becoming a partner in a conservative little accounting business a few states over. His plans were about as limited: inherit the firm, buy a house, marry another horse and settle down. It was enough motivation for him. A plan to stick to. Right now, he just wanted to survive his first week at a new job. He kept his head down and did as he was told. Tomas poked his temporary access code into the back door, disappearing into the huge building - a blast of music and sound echoing into the alleyway briefly.
...
Flashing lights. Bright colours. The world was flying by in a blur of wonderful sound and motion. Sandra had her arms outstretched as she swung over the stage, silks in all imaginable shades trailing behind her like a rainbow as she felt the wings on her back flutter against the flow. This was where she was meant to be. She could hear the hush fall over the crowd as she made a running entry, seamlessly unclipping the wires with a practice motion that would have been easy to miss. Her voice instantly raised into the powerful opening to her character's introductory piece.
The play had been a great success despite the doubts of the critics. It was a rather complicated song and dance routine involving forest spirits and demons in a war over an innocent and unsuspecting population of natives. At least, that's what she had made out from her brief look into the history notes that had come with her script. Sandra wasn't one for such nonsense. All she needed to know was what to say, what to do to make the production a success, and win the adoration of the people. It was her life and she loved it.
It was the intermission before she finally stepped off behind the curtain, panting lightly as she walked around to the drink table, the buxom cougar still lithe as ever. She took up a cup of water and sipped at it gingerly as a couple of young women tugged and pulled at her costume, dismantling parts of it and replacing others. In a brief reverie of thought, her eyes landed on a young stage hand. She pondered him a moment - a fit-looking horse wearing black pants and a white shirt that had just the right amount of strain against his muscles as he worked.
"Who's that?" She asked in a sultry way that could only mean one thing.
"Who? Oh." The reply as Chris, the male lead sat down. Someone was busy pulling his wings from his back, the wolf shaking his head. "He's fresh in the door and you already have your eyes on him."
"I'm just curious." She gave a small smile as she finished with her drink.
"I think it's Tomas, or Jonas or something..."
"Don't lie, you know who he is and I bet you've had your eye on him."
Chris just smiled, making no denial. "Yeah, but he's as straight as anything from what the girls have been saying." Sandra's smile broadened.
"Perhaps I have a chance then."
And just like that, the break was over. The actors rushed back to their allotted spaces, ready for the next scene. Sandra couldn't help but sneak another look at the stage hand as he rushed about some menial task, right as she was about to take the stage.
...
Tomas felt slightly out of place in the world of fantastic costumes and the craziness that went on behind the scenes of the playhouse. He did his best to remain a shadow as he went about moving the set props and equipment. A bunch of girls walked past him, wearing somewhat risqué corsets... The horse couldn't help himself from catching a peek as they passed. Much to his embarrassment, a cat was straggling behind and caught him mid-gawk.
"My favourite view too." She spanked the blushing horse playfully on the way past as she half-ran half-skipped to catch up. Left somewhat bewildered, he continued to haul a large bag of used towels and discarded clothing down the hall that lead to the laundry and maintenance rooms. He frowned. God, he was lonely.
There were plenty of attractive young girls at the playhouse, but most of them were too adventurous and deviant for the horse. He couldn't let himself get distracted; he just needed the job, the money. The cat dressed in a sequinned corset had been Katherine, or more aptly, Kat. He was preeetty sure the girl was a lesbian; he had seen her with a young dragoness by the name of Cherry. They had been, well, it was probably a little more than what the conservative horse would call kissing. Tomas wiped the sweat from his brow as he made his way to the main backstage again. A stout weasel pointed him to the task of rearranging some of the props for use in the next act.
...
Sandra finished her melody, the last note lingering on a fine point, spotlight burning brightly on her. It gave her a thrill, an almost tangible excitement as she knew her bedazzling corset and dress would shine gloriously for all to see, and that _she_was the centre of attention while the audience would - no doubt - have shivers running up their spines. The spotlight cut and the huge hall erupted into a cacophony of applause. The other actors and dancers had already taken the stage and everyone was taking part in the celebration.
But it was as short and sweet as ever, as soon as the hit began to fade Sandra turned and began the procession offstage as the curtain closed behind her. She quickly made her exit and turned down the hall and into the stars' dressing room. She let out a very unceremonious grunt as she flopped down onto the plush couch. She waited and almost like clockwork, Bethany the doe made her dramatic entrance as she pretended to stumble in, exhausted.
"What a night!" she exclaimed as she went straight for her bag to find her cigarettes.
"You say that every night deary." Sandra said her bit, ironically, as she wrinkled her nose briefly at the doe lighting her vice. It smelled of something a little more than tobacco. Before she could make any comment, Chris entered, shutting the door behind him.
"Oooh, gimme!" and almost instantly he and the doe were in a mock contest for the joint. Sandra sighed exaggeratedly from her seat, because of which Chris instantly aimed a barb.
"Don't be all bitchy Sandra; you're just pining over your horse cock."
"Fuck you."
"Yeah you go the intellectual route honey." He flopped down next to her on the couch, Bethany suddenly looking much more interested as she exhaled.
"Oh?" she asked, though it wasn't much of a question.
"Yeah, old sour puss here wants the new guy." He made a defensive motion as Sandra threw her hair clamp at him.
"Who wants the new guy?" The weasel asked the question as he opened the door. Realising he might have been rude had it not been with friends he corrected himself. "Uh, that was a good show out there tonight guys."
Sandra just rolled her eyes, everyone knew now.
"Hey Jerry, can you do something for our star?" Beth made her usual stab at the directors' choice to have Sandra star in the play. The stout man looked a little nervous, but the stage manager was too much of a perv to let a juicy chance to be involved in the staff shenanigans slide.
"Yes?"
"Why don't you make sure this - " She looked at Chris.
"Tomas."
" - right. Why don't you make sure Tom is back late tonight?"
The weasel nodded with his sickly grin, and Sandra could just tell he was enjoying this in some voyeuristic, gossipy way. He slipped back out the door. Sandra turned her head and noticed both her friends looking at her intensely. She rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in submission.
"Ugh, FIIINE! You got me."
...
Tomas grumbled as he swept along the backstage floor. His stupid manager had told him on his way out the door that he needed to do the sweeping for tomorrow's remodel. The only thing that had made Tom stay was that the weasel had also offered him a bonus, seeing as it was the end of this particular play. Still, he would have to catch a different train home and the new line would stop more often. He stopped to move a bin from his way when a small noise startled him.
Leaning against the wall was none other than the prima donna herself. The curvy cougar was just staring, watching. Tomas pretended not to notice, trying to hide his glance as he began to sweep again.
"Hello, Tomas," came the voice he had heard on stage and it was no surprise to him that she spoke in the sultry melodic tones that she sang in.
"H-hi... uhm..."
"Sandra."
Tomas silently cursed himself. How could he not have remembered her name? It was even on the brochures.
"Hello, Sandra, uh, you can call me Tom. Everyone else does." He gave her a nervous smile.
"Tom." She said as though lost in a reverie. As the horse turned to start his chore again, she spoke up.
"You don't need to be doing that. I was the one who made sure you had the extra job." Tom looked at her with a puzzled expression, she continued. "I make a point to get to know all of the staff members here... personally."
Tomas gulped, the woman had pushed away from the wall and was approaching him. "But why now? You don't get paid hourly... It seems a little extreme to just say hello."
"It's not always about the money sugar." She said sweetly.
Tomas suddenly found himself backed up against a support pillar, his ears flattening. She was behaving very forwardly with him. The cougar reached out and put a hand on his, gently urging his fingers to let go of the broom.
"And I never said that I just wanted to say hello."
She had pushed herself up against him. He looked down at her and all he could see was cleavage. He was blushing, his other hand moving to safely touch her on the shoulder and push her back... but the moment he laid his hand on her she grabbed his shirt and kissed him.
Tom's head was spinning; he knew he should push her away and make a break for it, but even his conservative manner was failing him as her tongue sought out his own. She tasted sweet like strawberries, and in his reeling confusion he felt his will melting away; his loneliness and pent up frustration welled up inside of him. He dropped the broom as her hand reached for his mane and pulled him closer.
...
Sandra smiled inwardly at how easily she had conquered him; it added to the sweetness of victory as she moved to claim her prize. She stopped gripping his shirt; instead her hand reached down and gently groped around his groin - he tried to pull back a little, but a gentle suckle on his tongue brought him into line as she felt the bulge in his slacks throbbing. She deftly undid the buckle on his belt and lifted it open enough that she could pull down the material of his pants and the tighty whities underneath.
She was surprised when one of his large hands began to roughly grope at her chest around her corset. She would allow it, letting out a small moan as his pants and belt fell to the floor with a clink. She could feel his meat already growing as it rubbed against her fur. She guided his hands under her skirt, loving the way he tensed as he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath - his impressive length surging to full attention.
She let out a lusty growl before hoisting one leg up over his hips, and when he figured out to grab hold of her rear, she lifted the other leg so that she was straddling him, his eyes showing a lust-dumb realisation that his length was now pressed along her petals, and they were very ready for him. A single glistening drip of fluid trickled around his cock before dripping onto the stage floor, and the horse spun around to press her against the pylon.
...
He couldn't think. His whole body was alive with lust as she grabbed hold of his dick and pulled it so that his spongy tip pressed right up against her entrance. It was so hot and wet; he could feel his maleness practically ache with how hard he was. He gave a tentative push forward, and without much force he slipped a couple of inches inside of her. His heart was pounding away, the sensation enough to have his eyes closed and his mouth open as she pulled him into her with her legs.
He felt his cock engulfed in those tight, hot muscles and he let out a long moan, which was cut short by the older woman pressing him into another kiss. He could barely control himself as his hips began to give short strained thrusts, each one feeling amazing as his flesh would slide along inside of her and she would pull him back in using her hips. Over and over again, he was beginning to feel a heavy, tingly pleasure building deep inside of him.
...
Sandra was in heaven despite her body struggling to take all of the horse meat inside of her. She gripped him in a kiss as that throbbing spire penetrated deep within her, pleasure outweighing the pain. She could feel his thrusts get more fluid, more of that cock being drawn back before pushing into her - each pump of his hips pushing her into the pylon. She began to moan encouragingly into his mouth as he ploughed her harder and harder.
Judging by the desperation in his tongue and the twitching in his motions she could tell he was as close as she was. She gripped his mane and pushed her weight from the pillar they had been fucking against. She could feel him desperately trying to fill her over and over even as they spun around - his body instinctively humping deeper as he was forced to try and balance them and support her. Still he ground in, harder, deeper. She could feel his balls lifting as her own muscles began to tighten as the pleasure overwhelmed her in a crest of white hot heat.
Tomas panicked as he felt himself falling through the curtain, but the milking around his cock only caused him to cry out - his eyes shut tight to avoid the stares of the theatre as he felt his length swell and surge after surge of bliss ruptured through his body.
He lay, paralysed in defeated embarrassment as his body emptied inside of her cunt; he could feel her still milking him as some of his sticky seed was forced back out over his groin.
She rode out the rest of her orgasm, clinging to him as her fantasies ran wild with each gush of cum into her. Sandra imagined the crowd roaring in applause as she claimed her prize atop a throne of horsey glory on centre stage.
The couple opened their eyes. No one was there, only the darkened theatre was staring back at them. Tomas let his breath out in a sigh of relief and Sandra sighed in mild disappointment. Fantasies and horrors abated into the chemical afterglow.
...
Sandra could already feel the horse softening inside her, and his awkwardness was quickly growing old as he lay there fidgeting. She lifted herself off and held herself with a paw before she made her way to a nearby table and used a towel to clean up. She didn't wait for the horse or even give him a second look as she did so.
"H-hey, what... What now?" his question almost a whine.
"Nothing. I got what I came for." The cougar walked over and looked down at the horse, who was clearly struggling with something behind those dreamy, youthful eyes. She gave him a sympathetic smile and threw the towel on his junk.
"Clean up. Go home. It was fun."
And with that, the prima donna left the stage for the night, a confused stage hand left to see himself home.