From: elf@halcyon.com (Elf Sternberg)
Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.furry
Subject: Journal Entry 226 / 0259 [ Between a Hard and a Rock Place ]
Date: 14 Feb 1996 13:18:39 GMT
Organization: Pendor, UnLtd.
Lines: 450
Message-ID: <4fsnff$juq@news1.halcyon.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: coho.halcyon.com
Noren, Narquel 15, 0259
"G'night, you two. P'rose, don't keep him out too late!"
P'nyssa said as she headed out the door. "I'm going to be over
at Cutter's for most of the evening working on a burn case."
"Mom, you work too hard!" P'rose insisted as the door closed
behind P'nyssa's retreating back. "She does, you know."
I nodded. "There isn't much I can do about it," I insisted.
"I just seem to live here at everyone else's whim, P'rose."
"Bull. You live here because everyone here adores you, and
besides, your contributions to the world can't ever be returned,
technically." She sighed. "I just worry about her."
"Tell me something, P'rose. What was it like, growing up
with P'nyssa and T'Fia?"
She smiled. "Well, Mom, I mean, you know, P'nyssa, was
always busy. She was trying so hard to master this new skill
that so few people had before the Tindals, and she was also
trying to earn a physical medical degree at the same time. She
knew I needed a mother, so she made an agreement with T'Fia.
They both raised me."
"It sounds... mechanical when you say it that way.
'Agreement.'"
"Well, you weren't a part of it," she replied. "They were
both wonderful to me, and both of them did everything they could
to raise me. They did a good job." I was about to compliment
her when she glanced down at her watch. "OhMiFah! I'm due on
stage in less than an hour! I can't believe I let the two of
you keep me here so long! I told you to warn me when I had to
go!"
I looked at the wallclock and agreed with her. "Well, you
didn't ask Dave, and none of us really keep track of the time.
Besides, half an hour is plenty of time... isn't it?"
"No, no, no!" she said, standing up. "Come on. If you're
going to listen to me play we have to get moving. I have to do
my hair, and my eyes, and... Come on!"
"Coming, coming!" I said, laughing. I had promised P'rose
earlier that I'd come listen to one of her concerts. "Shouldn't
I, like, dress for this?"
"You'll be backstage. You don't have to dress up like the
kids out in front. Come on!" She grabbed my hand in her mitten
and hauled me towards the door. I was surprised by the strength
in her grip and said so. "Years of guitar," she insisted as we
half-walked, half-ran down the hallway towards the SDisk.
We reappeared in a darkened town on a dirt road. "P'rose!"
someone shouted from the edge of the SDisk. "We waited for you.
The AI said you'd be here. You're late!"
As my vision resolved, I saw a young, black Felinzi on a
stylish, forward-swept motorcycle painted in gleaming red. She
held a helmet under one arm. "Heya, K'Nady. Do you have room
for him?" P'rose asked, pointing her thumb back at me.
"Can do. March?"
"I can carry him. Who is..." Another motorcycle, this one
much wider in the middle, more 'muscular' looking, pulled up
alongside me. "Vatare'! It would be an honor if I could escort
you to our show." The driver was an apparently short Mephit.
"Cut the 'honor' and it's a deal," I said, straddling the
back of his bike. Springs whispered softly under the added
load, and the engine gunned. I couldn't make out his species
since he was wearing a helmet. "Got a helmet for me?"
"Attached to the rear," he said. I picked up the small box
he pointed to, pulling out the cloth within. A touch of a small
stud on one corner of the small box and the cloth immediately
hardened into a fully functional helmet. I pulled it on.
"Set," I said.
"Let's ride!" the Felinzi shouted.
"Yieee!" I shouted as the Mephit gunned the engine and the
rear wheel spit dirt and grit backwards. The bike vibrated
insanely, but he seemed to have it completely under control.
P'rose's bar, The Rose, is currently the "hot" place on
Pendor. I guess being a stick-in-the-mud kind of guy has set me
a little behind the times. But P'rose's latest song is
skyrocketing in demand; the AI that keeps the charts says that
replays of her song have been in the top-five rotation slot for
nearly seven weeks now. I don't really understand that; to me
it sounds like just another popular rock song. Her progress up
the charts has given her enough friends that she persuaded them
to build her a nightclub, complete with all the fixings. She
didn't build it from scratch, but instead took it over from
someone who, she had said, had grown tired of the therapy
business and was going back to school to study history instead.
The two bikes soared through the town, which an AI inquiry
in my head identified as Ramdal, a curious name by any measure.
The Mephit handled his bike as if he had been born driving it,
an attitude that reassured me. The wind whipped past my leather
jacket as the bike cornered tight around a two-story building
and pulled up into an alleyway. A couple of rats ducked as the
lights of two internal-combustion beasts growled their way to a
door. "Here we are." He got off the bike, and so did I,
returning the helmet. "Thanks," I said.
"Thank you," he replied, grinning. "If I can calm down
enough, I'll really be in the mood to rock tonight!"
"Come on, March," P'rose said, grabbing him by the shoulder.
"Let's get dressed!" Just as she had done with me earlier, she
hauled him in through the dark doorway out of sight.
I followed, curious, and apparently invited. Inside, there
was a madhouse of two mels and four fems hurriedly dressing,
getting ready. A tall Uncia came back and shouted "P'rose! Ten
minutes!"
"I'm ready, I'm ready!" she shouted back. I retreated into
a black hallway that led to the stage, taking cover. Out on
stage, two mels were assembling the gear the band would be using
to play. It was nice to see that people still used
unsynthesized electric guitars, animal-skin drums and brass
saxophones. The fact that I found that interesting shows just
how out of the mainstream I am when it comes to music.
The crowd outside was mostly youthful-looking, with a few
people showing that carriage that comes with maturity. I
estimated most of her fans were less than fifty years old, and
it showed in their dress and the noise. Oh, the noise!
Unbelievable! P'rose was going to try to play over *that*?
They came running by me, slowing only as they reached the
edge of the stage, walking out into the view of the audience
calmly, waving. I admired that professionalism.
And then they began playing. A wall of noise rolled over me
as the guitars began screaming and the bass drum began thudding.
The beautiful human girl with the saxophone was belting out high
notes on that thing so high they threatened to make my ears
bleed. But as I stood there, watching them, my body began
responding to the rhythm all on its own. I found myself
bouncing back and forth, enjoying myself.
The crowd, of course, ate it up. That's what they were here
for. To listen to what was now the most popular band on the
Ring. I watched and listened, to the lovely bodies on stage
interacting with the equally lovely bodies down in the audience,
wondering about all the rumors that surrounded this musical kind
of hero worship.
At the intermission, P'rose walked straight towards me,
accompanied by one of her other bandmembers. "Rosy, who is
this?"
"Meet Minda, my keyboards. That over there is V'Drow, my
lead guitar. That's Tim on string synth."
"And who's this?" Minda asked.
"I hope you recognize Ken Shardik, Minda."
"Ohmifah! I'm sorry! Ohmifah, it really *is* you! Rosy,
how do you know him?"
"Be serious, Minda," the lead guitarist said. "Rosy's
mother is P'nyssa Traken."
"Ohmifah, I'm such a vacuum! I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Minda. Go get something to drink, would you?"
P'rose shuffled Minda out of sight, then turned to me. "Great
musician, not a great thinker. So, what do you think?" she
asked.
"It's... um... powerful," I said.
"It's not your kind of music," she said.
"I listen to Iron Maiden once in a while, okay?" I laughed.
"It's just been a long time since I listened to anything played
live. That sounded really wonderful," I said.
"Glad you like it," she said. The Uncia who had come by
earlier came by again, placing a pitcher into her hand. "Water.
Thank Fah," she said, raising the entire jug to her mouth and
draining what looked like half of it. Then she glanced up at
me, smiling. "I should be careful saying things like that
around you, shouldn't I?" she asked. "Mom warned me about
that."
I shook my head. "Be yourself around me," I said. "That's
all I ask."
She nodded. "I gotta go back on." She kissed me on the
mouth, which surprised me. "Wish me luck."
"Luck," I said, still recovering.
"HELLO OUT THERE!" P'rose's voice screamed over the
speakers. "ENJOYING YOURSELVES?"
From the expression on her face, the roar of the crowd was
giving her orgasms. She looked wonderful, just like her mother,
only with more muscle. "Good!" she said, lowering the volume a
little. "By the way, I want to point out a very special person
in the audience tonight. Most of you out there can tell who my
mother is, right?" she asked, pointing to her eyes. I groaned.
P'rose, I begged silently, don't do this. The audience cheered.
"Well, she's not here, she's too busy. But we do have Ken
Shardik in the audience. Mac, gimme the spotlight on Vatare'!"
"Ack!" I said as the light panned across me. The audience
just went berserk at that point. I tried to put on an indignant
chin, glaring at P'rose. She stuck her tongue out at me. So I
stuck mine right back at her. The audience ate it up.
"Okay, enough humiliation for Shardik. Let's rock!"
The band exploded in another wave of feedback and I ducked
back behind the stage again, my heart beating loud in my chest.
I *hate* being pointed out like that. It drives me crazy. I
seriously thought about how I would get back at her.
Finally, though, the concert was over and the nightclub went
back to being a club, serving drinks and clearing out a space on
the floor for dancers. I waited in the back room for P'rose to
come out, and finally she did. "What did you think?" she asked.
I grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out into the
alleyway, just as she had hauled March and me around earlier
this evening. The door slammed against the brick wall as I
threw it open, then slammed shut into the doorframe, vibrating
on its hinges as I closed it. I turned her around and shoved
her up against the brick wall of The Rose. "What kind of crazy
stunt was that?" I asked.
Her expression fell. "Well... I just thought..."
"You could embarrass me in front of all those people?"
"Oh, come on, Ken! They love you. There's nothing
embarrassing about that."
"I was embarrassed!" I said. "I don't like being..." I
have the hardest time in the universe holding onto anger. It
dissipated right there and then. "Sorry. You just had me going
for a moment there."
"Look, I'll never do it again," she said, raising her eyes
to me. Her face is so much like her mother's, with the white
rings around her dark yellow, almost orange, eyes. She was
imploring me, and I couldn't hold back.
A light drizzle began to fall on us, out in the alleyway. A
single lightglobe, high on one corner of the building,
illuminated us, the two motorcycles, and the gritty, glistening
blacktop. Droplets were misting on her upturned face. I leaned
over and slowly placed a kiss on her lips. Her mouth opened
slightly, just enough for a breath, as I straightened back up.
Her eyes were closed. "You're forgiven."
She fluttered her eyes open again. "Ken? Do that again."
As I leaned over, I heard music coming through the walls.
The entire building I was pressing her against thumped with the
recordings of bass guitars and monstrous drums. And as I kissed
my step-daughter, I heard the words. They were playing her most
popular song.
Baby, can't your heart dance?
Can't you give me one more chance?
You came into my life, now all I do's about loving you.
Her kiss grew more passionate. Between the music and the
cool of the mist, we were generating more than enough heat for
two. Her mittens reached into my jacket, touching my chest
through the cloth of my shirt. I ran my hands down the sides of
her body, covered in a tight latex corsetry and miniskirt
decorated in garish pinks, blues, whites and reds. She moaned
under my caresses, seemingly being turned on just by my smallest
progress.
I remember the first day that you walked into my dreams,
You were the most handsome creature I thought I'd ever seen,
And I thought I was the kind that someone like you'd never want.
"P'rose?" I asked as I managed to get a pause for breath.
She looked up. "I'm sorry... do you not... want me?"
I laughed. "Oh, P'rose, you have no idea. I'm just a
little surprised by your forwardness."
She smiled. "I just thought now was a good time. I've
always been a little excited by the idea of making love out
here, in an alley, where I could get caught. Please?"
"Make love out here?"
"Sure!" she said. She took my hand and led it between her
thighs. "It's a short skirt. See?" She grinned.
Like a flame we joined and loved and tore each other in two,
And I'm left with nothing but anger to remind me of you,
And it's in my dreams or are they nightmares that you're the haunt.
My fingers did indeed "see," as I felt the wetness slowly
spreading from her slightly swollen lips. I pressed her up
against the wall, my mouth finding hers again as my fingers slid
between her nether lips, caressing her already very hard
clitoris. She shuddered. "Gently," she sighed.
I slowed down slightly, and her mittens found the buttons of
my fly, pulling them open with an easy tear. She reached in.
"You don't wear anything underneath."
"Not usually," I said.
"Good. Makes this so much easier." She knelt down onto the
hard pavement and fumbled momentarily with my pants; a second
later she had my erection in her mitten, and a second after that
in her mouth. I gasped as she swallowed my cock smoothly. I
reached down and ran my fingers into her hair. She moaned as I
held onto her, trying not to grab at her large ears. Her tongue
pressed hard against the underside of my cock, teasing the head
as it swirled around and around. "Easy!" I gasped.
She eased back only enough to inhale deeply through her
nose, then attempt to swallow the whole thing. I felt my cock
curve gently against the back of her throat and downwards until
I felt the warm wetness of her lips at the very root of my cock
and looked down to see her nose pressed into my fly. Gods, she
was incredible. She slowly backed off and began stroking,
slowly, making sure my cock stayed hard as a rock. My hair was
standing on end from the pleasure. "Oh, P'rose."
She released my cock and stood up, pulling my head down
until I kissed her lips. But she still pressed down further,
until I got the idea and dropped to my knees before her. She
spread her legs wide as I pushed up the plastic hem of her
almost nonexistent skirt and pressed my mouth to her labia.
It was her turn to moan in pleasure as I spread her lips
with my fingers, digging my tongue against her lips and
caressing her surprisingly large clitoris... much larger than
her mother's. I sipped the juices that were almost running down
her legs as she held my head against her cunt. She had no
qualms about holding me in place! The smell of her filled my
nostrils and the sweet taste of her cunt flowed along my tongue
as I flickered it against her beautiful, blue-furred cunt. She
moaned, "That's it. That's it, Ken. A little more... a little
harder... yes! YES!" Her body bucked as she came, her mittens
tight against my head. "Oh my fah, yes!"
I smiled as I looked up at her. "Now," she gasped. "Fuck
me, Ken."
I looked around and found a small beam of wood, once part of
a cargo pallet. I kicked it into place. "Stand on that," I
said. "I'm taller than you are."
She smiled and stood on it. "How's this?" she asked.
"Perfect," I said, approaching her. My cock, even to my
surprise, had not softened at all. I pressed up against her,
aiming my cock between the wet lips of her cunt. I slid past
the hole the first time, but the second time I thrust it felt
like her opening grabbed me and pulled me in. "Yes," she moaned
again.
"Uh-huh," I sighed, kissing her. Even with my jacket, the
heat had leeched from my body long ago; the sensation of her
warm cunt enveloping my cock felt wonderful. I grabbed her tens
right below the mittens and pressed them up against the brick
wall, thrusting deeper. She spread her legs further apart, and
I began a slow, rhythmic fucking. The hard part was staying
inside her.
We managed. I found it hard to breathe in the cool night
air as the mist fell around us. We panted as I thrust into her,
holding her hips. We were watching each other, occasionally
taking side-glances to look down and see if anyone was watching
us.
Then the door to The Rose opened. "P'rose, where are you...
Oh." It was her Mephit drummer, March. I glared at him, and
she did too. "This can wait." He closed the door hurriedly.
She giggled. "We'd better hurry this up," she sighed. "Not
that I want to."
"I understand." I slid out of her.
"I didn't want to... whoops!" I grabbed her by the waist
and turned her around, facing the wall. With a brusque pull I
had her skirt up again, and slid my cock back into her willing
cunt. "Oh..." she gasped. "Yes."
I grabbed her hips and began thrusting harder. She held
onto a drainpipe and bent over further, pushing her ass out to
meet my thrusts. "Yes," she groaned. "Like that."
"I'm close," I gasped as the tickling in my groin said the
same thing. "I'm really... YES!" I pushed into her, hard. My
cock pulsed come into her, and I heard her groan.
"Yes..." she sighed. "Oh, yes."
I slid my erection out of her. It jutted up into the cold
night air, wilting slowly. "That was wonderful," I sighed.
She grinned wildly, kissing me on the cheek. "I enjoyed
myself." We both laughed as I dug my black handkerchief out of
a pocket and wiped myself off. I handed the kerchief to her as
I put my shrinking cock away and closed up the button on my
jeans.
"Nearly zipless," I commented.
"Come on," she said. "I'd like a drink of something cool."
"Me too. And you have to find March and find out what he
wanted."
She giggled. "And probably apologize to him, too." She
reached up for my cheek, pulling me down towards her, kissing
me. "Thanks."
"You're very welcome," I said. Like the perfect gentleman
that I sometimes pretend to be, I held the door open for her and
followed her back into the club.
--
"Journal Entry 226 / 0259 [ Between a Hard and a Rock Place ]"
The Journal Entries of Kennet R'yal Shardik, et. al., and Related Tales
are copyright (C) 1989-1995 Elf Mathieu Sternberg. Redistribution of
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Any redistribution must include this copyright notice intact.
--
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