The Philadelphia Experiment
Redundancy How can this sort of thing even happen? Twelve days being employed at the docks and already Narsassus has been "made redundant" as they like to tell him. Right now he is languishing in a room that he can ill afford to pay for. He looks around the small space. Apart from a halfway decent couch there is not much in here, not even video projector after the last one got stolen in his last place. A war is on you know, and wars always breed a great deal of criminal activity no matter where you are in it. Two years in Philadelphia and despite the military focused work there is no hope of getting a job here.He stirs on said couch, shifting from side to side. The kangaroo's tall, nearly seven feet tall, body means that to keep his head rested his big feet droop over along with his thick tail. A few strands of his long blond hair gett into his mouth and he starts to chew on it in boredom. This lethargic process of small, immutable actions is his way of building up some kind of drive to get up and get out of his flat. There is opportunity out there, maybe, somewhere in the worn city. Still, he should never have come out here to this waste. He hears Chicago still has some unique opportunities, ones that might be of interest to the marsupial even if it is near the frontlines. Narsassus finally gets up, scratching his ass ungracefully as he saunters over to the window dressed only in his boxers. He peers down at the hustle of the streets. Various different people in all shapes and sizes are out transporting goods and materials, commuting to workplaces, going to see trading partners. The over industrialisation of Philadelphia is a smorgasbord of work but not for any real future. And that is it, the real reason Narsassus was fired by his boss. The east coast might be have lots to do, but civilisation has long since become a shadow in the cities here. There is no ladder to climb, and certainly no opportunity for Narsassus to become successful with his true passion, that of the arts. A little stupid perhaps for a labourer like him, yet still...He wants to get away from here now, but without any credit Narsassus is out of any real options. Major transportation is expensive at best these days. But there is no point moping around in his soon to be rent owed apartment. So he puts on some clothes, rough working clothes mainly in differing shades of brown, and heads to the door. The kangaroo locks it behind himself and brushes his long blond hair back before putting his hat; threading his ears through the slits in the fedora's brim takes a moment. Stairs are the only way to reach ground floor here, since the elevator is always on the fritz and when it does work eats up coins like there will be no tomorrow.
Expo Time to find a new life, but where? The streets are busy, more with traffic carrying different cargos and manufacturing materials than people; except for when there is commute in the early morning of course. Still there are enough people on the streets that Narsassus has to dodge a little to avoid being bumped into by some of the larger and less friendly looking folks. Sometimes it feels as though all diversity in the city was sucked away ages ago. Now there are only an ever increasing number of rough labour workers, some of whom are probably even tougher than the stereotyped dock worker.Stopping at a billboard the roo waves his paw at it until it spurts into life. Crude blue-hued holograms are put together from recessed projectors in the billboard's frame. Holography was a relatively new technology, but due to the popularity of laser-based weapons for the war manufacturing the hologram machines are by consequence cheaper than old cathode ray tube television sets. As such billboards like this are everywhere, sometimes displaying propaganda, sometimes real news and sometimes... An art expo in town? Narsassus wonders rolling the thought around in his head. It is almost too good to be true. Who the hell sets up an expo in Philadelphia these days? The flicker-letters on the billboard do not give much information except a time and a place. It also rattles off some blather about the renaissance movement but does not say what displays will be there. But the first day of the expo is tomorrow and admission is free. It was fortunate he saw this today then. Now he needs to get something to wear.
Encounter The art exposition, as it turns out, has been set up by one of the industrialists who owns a good deal of the factories in Philadelphia. His reason for doing this is to show off some of his impressive wealth to his rivals. After the initial private viewing of certain artworks, and then a tour of select factories, the expo has been opened to the public for a limited time before it is taken down. The window of opportunity is a matter of days and by sheer chance Narsassus found it before it goes. As he enters the building, there is a quick signing where his name is entered into a guestbook. The badger behind the desk seems to give him one of those looks. Despite his attempt at grooming, that roughness from hard work still shows through with complete ease. Narsassus does not even remotely belong here from an expected stereotyped social perspective. He knows this of course, but as marked by the look he returns to the badger, he simply does not care enough to be stopped. Carrying on inside the building he is presented with an open gallery which branches off into different hallways.Each corridor has a different set of paintings, or in one case sculptures, from different artists or styles. A couple of the works are classics, but the vast bulk here seem to be contemporary pieces by artists still drawing breath. Narsassus enjoys spending time walking around and looking at one piece and then the next. Memories from his days in school resurface as he recognises certain styles and motifs. Those creative juices flowing again inside his very core. This is exactly the sort of thing he has been needing, something to inspire him. And artists do inspire other artists. Suddenly someone bumps into him, from behind to be exact. It is not a particular violent contact but is forceful enough to make the kangaroo stumble a bit and react with a little alarm. As he turns around he sees someone who is actually rather striking. A magpie, about six feet tall and wearing a peaked black cap and wearing a venetian red suit. His eyes meet with the marsupial's and Narsassus is momentarily distracted by their golden hue. The avian smiles at him and without even realising it the kangaroo blushes. He's cute. A tempting thought runs through Narsassus' mind."Sorry about that, I was just on my way out." His voice has that cheerful chirping quality many birds have, but not nearly quite as annoying as the kangaroo remembers from other comparative examples. "Don't mind me, enjoy the expo!"The magpie jogs off, and much to his own embarrassment Narsassus notices the way the bird's rear wiggles just so. Sighing, the roo turns back to the painting he was interested in and ignores the brief encounter. Of course he seems to be in an especially ignorant state of mind today as he also fails to notice two people who are following that stranger. Still now he has to keep maintaining that mood, that creative spark before he returns to his apartment. With any luck he might even be able to start work on something... exciting.
Visitor Three days pass and Narsassus has setup what might actually be a studio. By squeezing every last penny he has, the kangaroo has been able to pay the rent whilst changing his small apartment. Now there are canvases with different works in different stages of, well, being sketched then painted. Much to his own surprise the kangaroo's dormant talent has reawakened with a furious vengeance to make up for lost time and opportunity. Although much to his own chagrin, the quality of the work still lacks for something. However the silver lining is there, as such time he moves on to something new there is a noticeable difference; which the roo tells himself is sign of improvement.As he stands back looking at his current canvas, work clothes now a multicolour patchwork, something distracts him. Suddenly a knocking sound reverberates into the apartment from the door. It is a quick and short suffering knocking, with haste in the rattling sound. Someone is very interested in seeing Narsassus and he puts down easel and brush with equal haste. Whoever it is is causing quite the racket and even as the kangaroo walks over to the door his ears flick with agitation. Narsassus clasps the brass handle, twisting and pulling upon it, and as the door opens he stops in surprise. The visitor's mostly black hand -the forefinger and thumb being white- lowers from where the wooden obfuscation used to be. Looking up from the peaked cap, the halcyon eyes of the magpie from the expo meet the deep blue ones of Narsassus. He grins, briefly waves and then unceremoniously pushes the marsupial back into the room whilst closing the door behind himself. With deft finesse he flicks the latch on the door before stopping and introducing himself."Hello. You're painting, and I need your pants." The bird states all of this matter of factly."What?" No other words come to Narsassus' mind as he looks back with a bewildered expression."I need to see your pants which you were wearing at the expo. I'm afraid it is a matter of some importance." The corvid's eyes are already darting about, examining different elements in the apartment. It is obvious to the kangaroo that the magpie's mind is working on something, perhaps adrenaline, which would collaborate with the way he barged in and locked the door. "Come on, chop chop!" "Err, I think they're in the hamper over..." Narsassus is not sure why he is complying with the bird's request, but as he gestures the magpie dashes across the room to the small area which doubles as kitchen and general utilities area.The hamper is a sad affair of mostly slightly foul scented laundry. Sifting through them quickly the chromatic avian quickly finds the pair he remembers Narsassus wearing that day. He turns out the pockets, then he produces something from out of his jacket and combs through the lining of the pockets one at a time. On the second one he stops and retrieves something small and transparent which can been from a small amount of light refraction."What is that? Did you plant that on me? And just who the hell are you?" Narsassus gets all of the most pertinent questions off his chest in one running breath. Paws on his hips, his large rudder-like tail thumping against the ground he waits for an answer."Oh very well. My name is Fletcher, Horatio Fletcher," he takes a quick bow as a flurry to that. "To answer your other questions. This is a small type of data storage film. Yes I did 'plant' it on you at the expo. My reasons are because some very bad people were after it and I had to lose it before they caught up to me." "Umm." The dark brown -apart from the girly blond hair- kangaroo blinks as he gets all of his answers. "Well then, why do you have people after you?"Fletcher grins and walks right up to the marsupial, uncomfortably close. Although he is shorter than the kangaroo, the intensity burning behind his gold eyes manage to make Narsassus shrink back. Leaning on his tail he starts to freak out as the bird's soft feathered hands reach to start unbuttoning the paint stained work overalls he is wearing. Walls fall from the bird's beak, something about secrets are meant to be kept, but that he already knows how to apologise for the cursory trouble he has put the kangaroo through.For some reason the questions and concerns Narsassus has begin to fall away from his memory. Instead he goes back to thinking of how the magpie first looked to him as he sauntered off, cocksure and proud. Truth is the bird exudes something which might be something like an ineffable charisma and animalistic sex appeal. As for the corvid's end of this moment, he does find the kangaroo attractive and also does feel a twinge of guilt for forcing what little danger was there upon a total stranger. As Horatio undresses the kangaroo he chirps as Narsassus responds by pulling off the vividly coloured clothes the magpie wears too. The fall onto the floor, fur and feathers rubbing up against one another. They kiss, intimately, and although he is not sure if it is just lust, Narsassus really does want this. With sultry smooth precision the bird works his way down the roo's torso. First he caresses his chest, tongue reaching out to lick and drag a little on one teat and then the other. Narsassus mumbles something and flicks Fletcher's cap off to run his fingers through the avian's feathered head. The magpie continues going down, nuzzling his beak into the marsupial's soft dark brown belly. Narsassus is tone and lithe, with a soft smooth belly; although he did pack on a little muscle from his previous employment it has mostly gone into a wiry sort of strength instead of a braun kind."Are you going t-" Narsassus' question trails off as Fletcher undoes the kangaroo's belt and hooks his feathered fingers into the rim. Pulling them down he chirps as something black and throbbing springs out. The kangaroo blushes hard as his cock bobs with assured sitffness from the base of his groin. A long and thick black pole of twelve inches -or about thirty centimetres- pulse with aching longing for what it has been promised. "Doesn't take much to get you going then?" Fletcher teases as he begins to wrap one set of soft feathery fingers around the organ. His white finger and thumb just meet and he murmurs appreciatively of the girth.With great care the magpie leans in, catching the heady scent of the kangaroo's musk as the broad head of the phallus drools profusely. He does not use his beak, as that would be mighty uncomfortable, but does use his tongue which reaches some distance from his beak. The other hand joins the first and with double grip Fletcher begins to pump at the roo's large shaft. He applies a great deal of pressure in the grip, squeezing up and down and using the musky juices which spill down over his hands to help him. Narsassus leans back, hands splayed out across the floor behind him and groans as his eyes roll back. It has been months since he has had the chance to be with someone intimately; as evidenced by how receptive his body is to even the smallest of stimuli.The magpie's tongue slurps around the slit in the broad head of the stiff cock. He not only smells but tastes the other male's musk now, and he likes it. More licking, this time going around the slit before back into it. His hands pumping at the mid section and base of the organ speed up, rhythm racing in synch with the kangaroo's heartbeat. Narsassus finds the world around him slipping from perception as he thrusts upwards, awkwardly from his position on the floor, against the firm squeezing grip of the corvid's feathered hands. It all comes to ahead rather quickly, as Narsassus snaps his head back -barely being able to see Fletcher due to strands of blond hair obscuring his vision- and calls out for him to stop or... or... "Boom!" Fletcher exclaims as Narsassus loses himself, his loins bunching up as they unburden themselves. His dick twitches, swells and then explodes with thick white cream pouring out. Fletcher excitedly catches some in his mouth, but then pauses before letting it just go everywhere covering himself and the roo. Fortuitously somehow the corvid managed to remove the rest of his clothes and throw them to a safe distance against one of the walls.Thick heavy musk rises into the air as Narsassus pants hard, his orgasm dying down to a meager dribble from the broad tip of his softening length. He sits up properly, watching the avian cradle his dick as he squeezes the last few drops out to add to the pool seeping into all directions on the floor. Their eyes meet and Fletcher beams a stupidly happy smile at him. He tells him what a good boy he is, how proud he should be, and other patronising quips. Although he also comments that he did not even get a chance to start playing with the roos balls before he reached climax. However what happens next is not what Narsassus was expecting at all. Fletcher stands up and then helps the taller man up. Once Narsassus is back on his feet he points down and for the first time Narsassus notices the bird is butt naked. The magpie's own cock -a couple inches shorter than the kangaroo's- throbs in its fleshy pink hue, requiring attention. Narsassus is about to offer a blowjob, before the bird saddles up to him and grabs the marsupial's black length again. He squeezes and strokes it and as he expected Narsassus starts to get his second erection almost right away."I'm afraid I'm going to need a well hung kangaroo to help me this time." He teases and proceeds to walk over to one of the walls away from his clothing and brace himself against it. Tail feathers -black with white tips- lift up and he shakes his cute bubble butt at the roo. Two perfectly toned black feathered buns rub against one another, with a white strip between them which ends at the base of his tail feathers. At that point something in Narsassus' mind goes from mere horniness to bullish lust.Just as he expected, the kangaroo presses up against Fletcher's back. His arms and thick tail wrapping around the bird possessively. Already at full mast again Narsassus' black member rides up against the soft toned feathery buns which the corvid offers up to him. He offers words of encouraged, even something about punishing him for being such a rude houseguest, but no such words are needed on the roo. Securing his grip Narsassus begins with a steady grinding into the bird's ass. His footlong cock slowly works the two half sections of the magpie's rear open so that the broad head can press up to where his tailhole lies. Finally he thrusts forward and into the avian, firm and smooth without any need for lube as his cock is still dripping wet. "FFFFFUCK!" Fletcher shouts with a long moan afterwards. His ass flexes around the thick body of the kangaroo's shaft. Involuntary muscles tense and try to resist the entry, but to no avail. Applying the strength built up over his time doing manual labour, Narsassus just carves his way into the chromatic male's rump.Fletcher is pressed up against the wall, claw-like nails on the end of his fingers and thumbs digging into cheap tissue-thin wallpaper. The two males are both panting hard now, all the whilst Narsassus ramps up his rhythm of fucking the magpie's tight bubble butt. With each thrust forward his cock manage to gain another half an inch or more into the smaller male's rear storage. It does not take long before Narsassus' big furry balls come smacking down against the bird's buttocks and upper thighs. The kangaroo gives occasional bites against Fletcher's neck and left shoulder.Sweeping sensations of his rectum being pressed up and explored in the deepest of ways, Fletcher soon becomes incoherent as he tries to speak. Again though words do not matter, and soon his actions do all the speaking he requires. On one of the many thrusts all the way to the hilt inside the avian's rear, Narsassus can feel the male tense up more than usual. Then he is squawking fervently and the roo notices his partner is orgasming hard. Bird spunk splashes against the cheap wallpaper, returning to its owner to cover the front of his belly and thighs. Reaching around, Narsassus scoops some of the musky produce up and brings it to the bird's beak for him to taste and then to his own mouth; it tastes sweet. Narsassus lays in harder, his breath heavy and his loins aching for release as they smack into the bird's rump. He tightens his grip around Fletcher's chest, and before long he is reaching his limit unable to continue resisting the milking action from the smooth tightness of the bird's hole. He drives in one last time, all twelve inches disappearing past white and black feathers as the kangaroo grinds his crotch against the other male's ass. A flood of hot white cream, though not nearly as abundant as the last load, pumps all the way into the deepest corners of Fletcher's rectum and he cries out again, his cock twitching although only the smallest of squirts being given up.They stop, pull back from the wall, and fall down together with the magpie laying atop the kangaroo. Staying that way for a while, time passes, minutes or maybe a whole hour as both of them drift into half dreams and recuperating post-coital naps. That is until Horatio Fletcher, the bird with a mission, gets back up onto his talons. The length of black, though softened, manmeat slurps back out of the bird's engorged whole with a wet pop to land back between Narsassus' thighs. He proceeds to walk over to where his clothes are, and after cleaning himself a little, puts them on one by one. "Going?" Narsassus asks, sitting up with his legs crossed on the floor and looking up at the avian. Fletcher turns back to him and nods, then after being given another look explains further."I'm sorry for the inconvenience, I really am. But it is best if I leave now, not just for my sake but also for yours. Time is something that people like me never have enough of, and always works against us.""So just who are you, exactly?" Narsassus is not going to let the avian go without at least one more attempt at getting him to spill it."I told you my name, and I think you already know enough about who I am to you; a friend. If we're both fortunate, we will meet again soon." And with that Horatio Fletcher flies off, figuratively speaking of course. Taking the latch of the door he heads out into the apartment building's myriad of hallways and back out of Narsassus' life.Sighing to himself he turns back to look at the canvas' still waiting for him, and also the "paint" along the walls. Life is just getting stranger and stranger.