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Are We Human?

12

The thumping of ravenous hearts bolstered the bass that shook both the walls and the creatures confined within them. The dance floor was pulsating with convulsing limbs, fluttering hair, and swaying hips. Stifled urges saturated the air as they eyed each other, gauged each other, breathed each other in. They bathed in each other's sweat as their demonstrations turned to exhibitions. It was easy to sense the furious need that made their claws dig into each other; it wouldn't be long until they were pushing flesh together someplace that one of them found unfamiliar.

"How come you're not dancing?"

Drew's head snapped from the mating grounds in front of him to the voice at his side. The girl seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but there was no way to tell how long she had actually been there. Although she had yelled to him, her voice came out quiet beneath the roar of the music. He asked her to repeat the question.

"You're stood on the edge watching everyone else have fun. You twist an ankle or something?"

She grinned, making it known that she was mocking him. The darkness of the bar made it hard to distinguish her features, but at least now he could tell that she had all her teeth. Her lips were thin as well.

"My ankles are fine," Drew responded, mirroring her smile. "But I appreciate your concern."

"If they're so fine, then why aren't you out there with all the pretty girls and boys?"

His mouth opened, ready to charm her by saying that he didn't need the pretty girls and boys when the prettiest one was standing in front of him. Then his eyes met hers, and he hesitated. Her eyes were big, but narrowed slightly when she stared at him, as if she saw his mind working and already knew the stupid remark he would make. It seemed she was warning him and daring him at the same time. The line never came out. Instead, to Drew's surprise, he found himself telling her the truth.

"It weirds me out. Like, we all say that human beings are so complex and so sophisticated, but then you go out to the bar and it's like we've turned back into animals. Everyone's showing off, everyone's trying to get a mate. I mean, aren't we supposed to be more than just our biological need to reproduce? I'm not trying to sound judgmental. All I'm saying is, I don't really enjoy feeling so primitive."

She raised her eyebrows, but her glare failed to loosen.

"That's your reason? Seriously?"

Dread flooded into Drew's veins. What he had said had come out sounding far more arrogant than he had anticipated. He wished he had gone with the pick-up line. The woman turned her head toward the dance floor, where the frenzy had only grown more manic. She pursed her thin lips and nodded.

"Okay, you're right," she relented. "This place is for savages."

Her hand clasped shut around his, making him jump slightly. She grinned again.

"Come on then. I'm here to rescue you."

Cool night air was blowing through the hairs on Drew's chin before he even realized he had been led outside. He didn't know this girl's name or where she was taking him, and yet his feet kept following after hers. At least now, with moonlight glistening in her short black hair, he could see her clearly: almost as large as him in height and in the thickness of her limbs, but slimmer in her shoulders and midsection. Her face was slender and finished into a pointed chin. The eyes that he had so recently fallen into revealed themselves to be hazel in color. She also had a hell of a grip.

"Wait," Drew spoke up.

The woman stopped and let out a sigh. She whirled around, pointing her narrowed eyes at him once again.

"What's the matter?" she jabbed. "Having second thoughts?"

"I haven't even had time for first thoughts. You haven't told me who you are or where you're taking me." Drew protested.

The woman placed her free hand over their conjoined hands and shook it violently.

"My name is Abby, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm going back to my house and I would like you to join me. I hope that's okay with you," she explained with feigned sincerity.

Abby's aggressive response gave Drew some pause, but he heard the implication in what she said. That was incentive enough for him to roll with it.

"My name is Drew," he told her. "Please lead the way."

She forced a disingenuous smile, then turned back around and continued down the road. Her grip was noticeably tighter on his hand this time. For a girl who had insisted on taking him home, she really seemed to resent his presence. Drew kept quiet for the rest of the walk, afraid that even the smallest noise would set her off and result in his immediate banishment from her presence. That couldn't happen; Drew was drawn to her now, and it worsened with every second spent staring at her. Also, because of that constant staring, he hadn't been paying attention to the route they'd taken. Trying to make it back on his own would be more of a hassle than he needed tonight.

The pair had long since left the stench and din of the bar behind. Now, in the outside air, he found that even Abby's scent pulled him in. The urge to come closer and breathe her barked inside of him, but he repressed it. He was on thin ice as it was; stopping her to sniff her dark hair and pale skin would not be appreciated. Still, every time a passing breeze carried her scent down to him, he inhaled deeply and let it into his brain. This wait was starting to get aggravating.

Just as he had the thought, however, Abby led him onto the lawn of a one-story beige house. The front door was weathered and white, and Abby sifted through her purse before producing a set of keys to let them both in. He scanned the property, appreciating the flower boxes on the windows. They were blooming with attractive plants he couldn't identify, so all he said was, "I like your flowers."

"They're my roommate's, not mine," She responded.

There were an infinite amount of word combinations in the universe, and yet none of them would be enough to warm Abby up to him. She pushed open the door and, surprisingly, held it open for him. Drew thanked her, and she nodded without smiling. The door closed behind him; for a moment, he was alone in complete darkness. In that solitary moment, the surreal nature of his situation became apparent to him. This strange woman had picked him up from the bar effortlessly, without any kind of discussion or negotiation. It wouldn't have taken much negotiation to get him to her place, but she hadn't even given him an option. The decision was solely hers. Should he have made a stronger display?

"My roommate isn't here, so don't worry about making noise."

With that comment, his mind cleared of reservations. Abby kicked off her shoes and watched expectantly as Drew did the same. Then she grasped his hand and once more guided him to where she wanted to go. At the end of the front hall, their door awaited them. She pushed it open, pulled Drew inside, and shut it behind them. The darkness continued. Instead of turning on a light, Abby began lighting candles.

"How romantic," Drew joked.

"I prefer them to artificial light," she explained. "They're very relaxing, not as harsh."

It wasn't an affectionate response by any means, but for the first time since the bar, there was no impatience in her voice. Patience was no longer necessary. In the wavering candlelight, things did indeed seem more relaxed than they had been before. Abby turned to face him, wearing the same smile she'd had on when they first met. Tension filled the room like kerosene fumes. It seemed certain what would happen next, but it was very uncertain just how they would get there.

"Well, here you are," she began. "No mating dance required."

Deliberate footfalls closed the gap between them. Hers, not his. Drew stood still and let her approach, let her arms envelop him like an ocean wave. They draped around his neck and kept his eyes pinned to Abby's. He inhaled her every breath. His thumping heart threatened to shake the posters off her walls. She pulled him in and made sure her thin lips were there to greet him. Somewhere out there, the sun was rising. Hummingbirds drank deeply from the tulips dotting the hills that rolled green and eternal. The world can be a beautiful place sometimes.

Abby's tongue poked its way inside Drew's mouth. He let it explore him. His own tongue pushed back weakly, but Abby sought to devour him. She walked him backwards until he was sprawled flat along her purple bedspread. Their mouths broke apart for a second, enough time for Drew to take a breath, but she was on him again before he could exhale. Her legs settled against either sides of his hips; her clawed hands crawled up his splayed arms and coiled around them. Abby pulled back slightly, allowing her mouth to drift down Drew's jawline before finding his neck. He crained his head and exposed it to her.

A series of soft coos fluttered from his parted mouth. Her tongue slid against his neck, pausing only so she could suck at him. Drew wanted to put his arms around her, grab her hips and hold them down against his hardening cock. When he attempted to raise them, Abby's grip tensed to keep them pinned. He tried once more, but this girl was stronger than he had anticipated. Her nails dug into his flesh, and something of a growl reverberated against Drew's wet skin. It was another warning, but this time it went ignored.

"I want you to grind on me," he requested, his tone exasperated.

Abby growled her response.

"I don't give a shit what you want."

She bit him. Sharp fangs stabbed into his skin. Drew gasped, thrashed around, but Abby kept him down. Her legs clamped down around his hips, her claws sunk deeper. He was trapped beneath her, unable to break away from the teeth that gnashed at his neck. She relented for a moment and leaned into his ear.

"Don't fight me," she warned over the sound of Drew's outburst. "I'll leave bruises."

Drew's mouth was readied to protest when Abby sat herself down against his hips. His cock was four layers of fabric away from her, and he could feel it. It hadn't softened for a moment. She began to grind against him, and just like that, the revolt had been suppressed. The feeling of her hips stroking him over his tightening pants was enough to make him go docile. His arms relaxed, and he returned to his cooing.

"Good boy."

Her hands slithered back up to his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as she continued to rock against him. She tilted her head back and sighed. Drew gawked at the way her breasts heaved with each breath. They peered out from her low cut shirt, beckoning his lips to come closer. His brain sent signals out to his arms, ordering them to reach up and squeeze them. And yet, he remained immobile. His arms stayed where Abby had left them. She had roughed him up the last time he had tried to take what he wanted; it wasn't certain what would happen if he tried again. Perhaps it was best to let her have her fun. With the way she was enjoying herself sat on top of his cock, it couldn't be much longer until he was inside her.

The grinding stopped. Drew looked up, ready to protest, but another sharp glare shut his mouth for him. Without releasing her hold on his shirt, she climbed off and tossed him aside. She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. Disoriented and flustered, Drew stood in front of her; he instinctively covered his protruding erection with his hands. A half smile cracked its way onto Abby's face, but it was gone before Drew could notice it. All he saw now were a pair of hazel eyes looking right through him.

"Strip," she ordered.

The single word, like a judge's gavel, made him freeze. A few seconds passed without movement. Abby's eyes began to narrow, and before he could realize it, Drew's hands were tearing at the buttons on his shirt. It fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap. She continued to observe him, making it clear that he was meant to continue. So, his belt came undone, his pants slid to his ankles, and he kicked them off along with his socks. There he stood, in front of total stranger, with his erection raging against the only clothing item he had left on. Apart from raising her eyebrows, Abby didn't make a move. Drew wasn't finished.

There was a slight tremble in Drew's hands as he slid his boxers off. It couldn't be helped. With his last line of defense on the carpet now, there was nothing stopping Abby's eyes from dissecting him. The spotlight was inescapable, searing every inch of his exposed flesh. In a small showing of sympathy, Abby peeled her socks off with her big toes. Her feet were now as naked as Drew's entire body, but the rest of her outfit remained intact. That was the extent of her sympathy.

She stood up and walked toward him. Every step made her larger and Drew smaller, until she was inches away and miles above him. Circling to his back, she grabbed his hips suddenly and held them against her own. Her hand went around to his cock and trapped it in a tight grip. Drew gave out a weak cry. Abby rested her head on his shoulder and flicked her tongue at his ear.

"Grind on me, slutty boy," she laughed into his head. "Show me what that ass can do."

She dug her claws into his soft butt, and it began to move against her. Drew hadn't told it to do that. It frightened him the way his body listened to her, as if she was the one controlling his every movement. But she wasn't. It was his body, and he was just playing along until he got what he wanted. This girl liked her foreplay, her very strange foreplay, but it couldn't last forever. Abby's hand had begun sliding along his cock. On the inside, she must have needed him just as badly as he needed her. Soon enough, her will would break. He moaned for her.

"It sounds like you're enjoying yourself," she whispered.

A faint "yes" was heard in between moans.

"But you want more, don't you?"

An eager "yes" was heard in between moans.

"You want to know what my mouth feels like wrapped around this thick cock, don't you?"

Her hand stroked him faster. His moans became a series of desperate "yes's".

"Tell me how much you want it. On your fucking knees."

She pushed him to the ground. There he was, on his hands and his fucking knees. Hurried panting raised and lowered his arched back. His eyes were fixed on the ground, where a pair of bare feet stepped into view. The nails were painted dark blue, he noticed. Drew tilted his head upward, climbing up this tower of a woman that stood before him. Her smirk peeked out from behind her breasts, like a sun shining over the mountaintops.

"You look so cute down there," she remarked, prodding his erection with her dark blue toe. "Now get to begging, bitch."

For a moment, Drew said nothing. His mouth opened uselessly like a caught fish choking on air. Begging? He'd never begged for anything in his life. Girls would just give it up to him; they never made him jump through hoops like this. Now there was this girl, with her commands and her condescension, her insults and her drawn out games. It was absurd of him to be letting this stranger push him around. He'd bought into her powerful aura before, but he had reached the end of his patience.

"Suck my dick," he demanded from below her.

He paused for a moment, then added:

"Bitch."

A silence fell over the pair. Drew boasted a defiant grin; rebellion felt good. He would make his stand now, push back against her until he got what he deserved. Abby's smirk faltered, but to Drew's surprise, the emotion that replaced it wasn't shock or rage, which he had expected. Instead, she looked away from him, lips pursed in a thoughtful manner. It was the same look she'd had when observing the dance floor at the bar. It occurred to Drew just how far away that time felt from this present moment.

"Fine, I've had my fun with you. Climb on the bed, I'll finish off that big cock of yours."

She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her.

"Thank you, Abby," Drew said arrogantly, as he rose to his feet.

He stretched out across the bed while Abby assumed her position toward the end of his body. She ran her nails gently up his sides and began planting kisses on his stomach, moving down his thighs so her cheeks brushed ever so slightly against his cock. The very tips of her hair tickled him. Drew sighed and put his hands behind his head. The foreplay had been an interesting experience for him, and he couldn't deny that she was damn good at what she did. In the end though, he was here for his pleasure; as Abby's thin lips squeezed the head of his cock, he knew that it was time for him to get it.

It turned out that Abby was damn good at this as well. She took him far in her throat, making him slick with her saliva. She took a firm grip and glided along his shaft. Despite her slow pace prior to this, she acted in a frenzy now. Putting her mouth back on his tip, her hand rubbed him furiously. Impassioned moaning made it difficult for Drew to get his words out. He was getting close now.

"I knew you couldn't hold back for long," he finally managed to say.

Abby pulled her mouth away and raised her head. Her furious stroking continued.

"God, you're so right," she told him. "I could never stop myself from playing with such a thick, beautiful cock."

"I can't wait to fill your mouth with my cum. I'm so close."

"You're getting close, baby?"

Her stroking slowed down.

"You're excited to cum, baby?"

Her stroking came to a stop.

"You can't wait, baby?"

She pulled her hand away. Drew sat up and found Abby smirking back at him. A dire mistake had been made; even the blood that was throbbing in his cock had turned to ice water now. She rose up and kept her wicked grin aimed down at him. Fear. Fear burrowed into his chest and crawled out to his every limb. Fear pulsated beneath the surface of his skin.

"Abby, wait. Please."

With a single finger on his lips, she silenced his meager pleas. She pushed him lightly back to the bed, and her hand slithered downward to wrap loosely around his neck. A dribble of saliva birthed out from her mouth and plopped onto his tip. With her free hand, she grasped his penis, resting her thumb in the fresh pile of spit.

"It's time to make something clear to you."

She dug in her thumb, rubbing it hard against the head of his cock. An overwhelming shockwave of sensation shot directly up Drew's body. It was too much, it was too sensitive. He struggled to get away, but Abby squeezed his throat and held him down.

"This is not about you. Your pleasure means nothing to me, and nothing to you. You're here to serve me, obey me, and do whatever I fucking tell you to do without question."

"Please Abby oh my God stop please it's too much!" he choked out weakly.

Her grip tightened. Suffocation.

"You should be lucky I'm even bothering with a worthless whore like you. It was so easy for me to get you home, so easy for me to get you out of your clothes and onto your knees. You're a pathetic little waste, you know that?"

Her thumb pressed harder into him. Agony.

He cried out again, "I'm sorry I'm sorry please stop torturing me please!"

"Go ahead and scream, bitch. No one can hear you anyway. You're so helpless, so weak. You can't fight me. You can't stop me."

He pleaded with her, "No I can't I can't you're so strong you're in charge please I'll do anything you want anything everything!"

"Are you my slave?"

"Yes!"

"Who owns you?"

"You own me!"

"Good boy."

She released him, but her gaze never relented. Disgraced and embarrassed, Drew covered his face with his hands and whimpered into them. His body was trembling all over. He had been foolish to think he could rebel against this woman, his owner. She could break him down with a stare, make him suffer with the slightest touch. Worse than the shame of his weakness, however, was the shame of his enjoyment. Through all the degradation, he found himself even more drawn to her. Her power both intimidated and enticed him. It felt abnormal; perhaps he really was the whore she had claimed him to be. The thought, compounded with Abby's nails trailing daintily along his stomach, made his trembling even worse.

12
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