FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The sign said 'Matat Lounge' in simple, backlit black-on-white. There was nothing wrong with it. Jason couldn't stop staring. The longer he looked, the more the vertical strokes stretched in his eyes; the smaller everything else became, until the letters were meaningless shapes. Blocks of white and black, pressing into his eyes. Elle flicked his stomach with the backs of her fingers. Jason flinched and gasped and blinked. The sign said 'Matat Lounge' in simple, backlit black-on-white again. "Are we going in, or are you going to stare at the sign some more?" she asked. With her elbow on top of his shoulder, she leaned on him until he gave way. He couldn't find the words to explain the strange emotion in the pit of his stomach. It was already retreating from the forefront of his mind like a flicker of a bad dream. Jason smiled at his vixen girlfriend instead. "Yeah, sorry, just zoned out," he said. He flicked his keyring into the palm of his hand, checked the car door to make sure it was locked, and then stepped up onto the sidewalk with Elle. She was the one who'd suggested the hookah bar in the first place. She'd found it online and thought it seemed pretty cool. Jason would have been fine with spending another night on the couch in his apartment smoking with her, but hey, he had to do cool stuff with her to keep up his boyfriend cred. Elle had a jacket and tank top on. Her arms were crossed over her chest like she was chilly. Despite keeping her hair in a short page cut, between her lip piercing and the studs in her ears and her fondness for eyeliner, no one really mistook her for a boy. She had a lean, lithe body, all slender muscle and very little fat at all. Jason didn't mind. She could snuggle like a hungry python. Jason was a fox just like Elle--maybe a little too much like Elle sometimes, as some people assumed he was her older brother. He never bothered to comb his shaggy hair, and before going out Elle had been forced to literally go into his closet and find a button-up shirt for him to wear. It was olive and looked a bit like a safari shirt, and Jason left it untucked. If she'd let him come in his tee shirt, he would have looked like a stoner. Thanks to her effort, he looked like a stoner with fashion sense. Standing next to Elle on the sidewalk, Jason stuck out his arm for her to hold onto. Instead, Elle bent her own arm like his and tapped their elbows together. Jason rolled his eyes; she just grinned. The facade of the Matat Lounge was impeccably kept. The sidewalk was so clean it had to have been pressure-washed. The windows, big, almost floor-to-ceiling panes along the entire front, had been coated on the inside with something to white them out entirely. There was no way for him to see in, no way to tell what he was getting into. But Elle was here, so if anything went wrong, he could blame her for suggesting this over going out for pizza. When Jason opened the door, he could feel the scent from inside pass over his skin. It prickled; it was pleasant and warm, but sunk into his pores to make its presence known. Then he actually smelled it, and he didn't mind so much how it made his skin feel. Trying to pick out all of the spices would have taken hours of slow breathing, but he caught the tingle of cloves and cool mint, broad strokes of vanilla and anise, and the little prickle of something that might have been ginger. Jason had stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, and when he realized that he hadn't moved, he saw that Elle hadn't, either. She was looking in his direction, but not at him. Her dark nose slowly flared as she breathed in the smells, too. What could she pick out of that mixture that he couldn't? "After you," Jason said, to break the spell. Elle's eyes tightened on Jason, then she flashed him a sideways smile and led the way into the Matat Lounge. Jason slipped in after her and let the door silently swing closed. Inside, the lounge looked pristine enough to be new. Must be why he hadn't heard of it before, Jason supposed. There were a few large circular couches in the main area, but given the size of the tables and the fact that the couches were empty and the tables bare, they seemed to be for large groups. Laid out in a diagonal pattern further back from the door were smaller, personal rooms. The floor was patterned in intricate designs like a Persian rug, all in shades of blue and white and blue-gray. The trim on the walls and designs of the furniture were winding, arching, vaguely Arabic, but simple and regular. Floral and exotic, but clean and orderly at the same time. The receptionist's eyes were pointed a few degrees off from Jason's head. Given the broad shape of her snout, he could make a stab at her being feline, some kind of big cat, but he was stumped at anything further than that. Her coat was a uniform white. She wore a ruffled white blouse with the sleeves rolled up and a laced-up, black vest over that, and a black skirt wrapped around her hips. One second passed. She turned, head and shoulders, to look directly at Jason. The sudden sight of someone looking very right at him made the words tumble back down in his throat. He was staring into her dark brown eyes, so he missed when her expression had shifted from blank to a wide-lipped smile. "Hi, we're glad you're here at Matat," she said. Jason's social brain clicked back into action, and he forgot the intensity of the receptionist's stare as he glanced back at Elle. "Did you make a reservation or something?" "Reservation? It's not needed," the receptionist said. She blinked, deliberately. "I can take you to your room now." Jason flashed a thumbs-up and a small grin at Elle. She plucked one of the business cards from the little holder on the front of the desk and gave Jason a 'yeah, let's go already' smile. Jason turned back to the receptionist. "All right, cool. So do I pay you now, or...?" he asked, reaching into his pocket. "You pay at the end of the night," the receptionist said. Again, she blinked. "Please, follow me for your session." Jason nodded and said, "Cool." The receptionist plucked her hands off of the podium and turned, leading the way past the large group tables and toward one of the private rooms. Jason looked around, peering into the open doors of the other rooms. He couldn't see anyone else in any of them. Looked like they were the only ones here tonight, or at least that they were the first. He looked down at the feline's feet. She moved deftly in her tight white heels. Wait, he didn't see the strap of a shoe or a sole or the crease of where a boot ended, or even a zipper. Were they just like really tight thigh-highs? He looked more closely at her. Her head was shaved down to the fur; the au naturale look was popular among some big cats. Did she even have fur? He couldn't get close enough to tell, but if she did, it was thin and very silky. His eyes shifted to the back of her neck. They followed two ridged lines running out from underneath her skull, along the back sides of her neck, and down behind her shoulders. With each step, her skin shifted over the ridged tubes along her neck. The receptionist stopped at one of the nearer rooms, pulled the door open, and stood to the side. "Please, you may enter now. Enjoy," she said. Jason lingered for a moment. "I don't want to be weird, but...hah, you probably get this shit a lot," he said. He grinned sheepishly and scratched at his neck. "What's your species?" She closed her eyes for a second, a full one-one-thousand, then opened them again. "I'm a panther. It's all my genes." Oh, dang, maybe she was frustrated. Probably had people thinking she was weird for it. "I was just asking cause it looks really sweet." He smiled and flashed the OK sign with his fingers. The 'panther' began to close the door on him, and he quickly said, "You've got neat shoes!" as he shuffled backwards into the room. "Weird girl," Elle said. "Hey, you are too," Jason said. He turned around to take in the room. Pillows were scattered across the floor, grouped in a circle around the central table. Sitting on the table was a tall hookah--had to be at least three feet tall--with shiny, black bulbs and silver joints, like a strange plant rising out of the middle of the room. The walls were bare, and the room was lit with a diffuse light that barely cast a shadow. "Yeah, well, I'm cool weird. I'm not--ooh," she said, holding her hand up near the bowl. "It's got hot coals already. Guess they started it for us." "They? I only saw the one girl." Jason tugged a few pillows closer to the table, then sat down on them. "Whatever, maybe there's someone else. I don't know their business model," Elle said. She set two pillows on top of each other to sit on, then leaned back against a third. The mouthpieces were perched on small hooks, with long black-and-silver woven hoses dangling down below them. Elle reached out and plucked one off the hook, then sat back with it in her hand, waiting for Jason. He leaned up and took the other, holding it between the pads of his fingers. "Three, two, one," Elle counted down, with 'one' slightly muffled by her lips on the mouthpiece. They both took a drag and the water in the hookah bubbled loudly. At first there was nothing, but then a wave of smoke wafted into his mouth. It was like a mouthful of spiced hot chocolate in zero gravity, rippling around his teeth and rolling halfway down his throat. Sweet, mostly, but he could taste the warmth and tingle of the hookah's spices. "Warmup?" Jason asked. "Yeah, that one's just a warmup." They both took a moment to clear their lungs and exhale. Then they drew in a deeper, stronger drag from the hookah. It burbled loudly and the smoke swirling down their tubes was fresh and hot. It poured from the mouthpiece onto Jason's palate and tongue, then swirled down the back of his throat and into his lungs. The spices were louder and clearer this time, still more sweet than anything. He tried to think about the flavor. Some nutmeg in there, maybe? A tickle trailed along the underside of his brain. He shivered involuntarily and his ear flicked a few times. He looked over at Elle, who had her muzzle tipped up toward the ceiling and was blowing a plume of smoke from her lips. Jason puffed out his own smoke, curling his tongue so that it came out in a lazy ring. Elle responded by blowing at it, making the smoke wisp off into nothingness in the air. "Doesn't taste too strong," Elle said. She propped herself up, with her elbow resting on top of one of the pillows. "Feels good, though. Wonder what's in it. Do you know?" Elle shrugged. "You literally know as much as I do." "As much as me? Don't be so hard on yourself," Jason said. Elle snorted a little puff of smoke into the air. All of the weirdness of the night was drifting away, now that the two of them could just hang out together. It was what they did anyway, just in a new place, with something new to smoke, and nice pillows instead of an old couch. Each drag of the smoke that hit his lungs slipped right up his spine and into his brain. It rippled along the wrinkles in his skull and rolled from side to side. "Feels good, though," Elle said. Jason puffed around his mouthpiece and grinned up at Elle, who gave him a confused look. He said, "That's literally what I just said." Elle blinked and the hookah bubbled as she drew in a new breath of smoke. She was slowly splaying out backwards, leaning further back, legs spread out wider. She tried to tug at the crotch of her jeans subtly, but she was all of three feet from Jason. He said nothing, though. He was dealing with his own stiff distraction, and by that, he meant his erection. By keeping his thighs close together, it was easier to keep it from sticking out against his jeans, but that did nothing to alleviate the stiffness. He made little grunts and sighs, trying to keep his erection under wraps, but a particularly good puff from the hookah unwound his entire body. His legs fell open, and his boner pressed against the front of his jeans. "Hey, you're horny," Elle said, tittering. She licked at the mouthpiece before taking another pull from it. Jason huffed and pawed at the bulge in his jeans, trying to push it back down but only making himself more excited. "Dude, you've got a girlboner so big, like, I can see," he said. Elle snickered and stuck her hand under the waistband of her pants, like she was trying to dig her panties out of her cameltoe. If Jason wasn't so mellowed out, he would have gotten off his pillow to make out with her or something. Seeing her worked up like that was hot as hell. Instead, he sucked down another big lungful of smoke and let the tingling soak into his nervous system and ride up into his brain. His legs quivered, his erection continued to push against his jeans, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was lying on the pillows differently. The smooth silk was soft against his bare fur. He looked down and touched the pale white fur on his chest, then extended his arms, neither of which had sleeves now. "Where's my shirt?" Jason asked. Elle opened her eyes and blinked a few times, making a vague noise of confusion. "I think you took it off," she said. She was bare-chested too, though she was so boyish in figure that she looked just fine with her top off. The way her nipples were puffed up beneath her chest fur, though, her sex drive was still rumbling away on high. Jason pointed off to the other side of the room, where his shirt laid, folded tightly into a square and set on the floor. Next to it, folded into a neat stack, were Elle's jacket and tank top. "There it is," he told Elle. Neither of them wanted to get up and get their shirts, though--particularly because they were both getting hornier by the minute. Jason reached out and put his hand on Elle's chest. With the pad of his thumb, he brushed against her nipple, stroking until she squeaked in the back of her throat and wriggled her hips. Elle batted his hand away. "Ugh, now I'm wet, you dick," she said, then blushed and giggled. "Fuuuck." Jason snickered to himself as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips. Grasping it between his teeth, he leaned his head back and sucked down the smoke like he was thirsty and it was a garden hose. With each puff, the effects deepened. He wanted to hump the air, but if he did, he'd slide right off his pillows. He pushed his cheek into the middle of one of the silk-covered cushions and made a moan in the back of his throat. His thumb traced the waistband of his pants. He closed his eyes. All of a sudden, he was lying on his side, instead of flat on his butt. His legs were lighter. Rubbing at the corner of his eyes, he glanced down: jeans gone. He glanced up. They were folded up underneath his shirt, alongside Elle's jeans. She was stretched out on her side, hip and shoulder and elbow on the pillows, her free hand resting on top of her legs. A small damp spot nestled at the bottom of her purple panties, and her mound was puffy enough to make out its shape through the fabric. "Dude, you're really fucking hot right now," Jason said, grinning lazily at Elle. "I think I can tell." Elle reached out a hand and pushed it against the top of Jason's erection, which stuck out into his boxers. She pushed on it until her fingers slipped around it, and it bounced right back up again. The two of them snickered to each other as they lifted the mouthpieces to their lips and made the hookah burble again. Another record-skip jump. Jason was splayed out, his cock sticking up into the air, reddish-pink, its knot bulbed up. His boxers were folded on the pile across the room. Elle's knees rubbed together; it had to be Jason's imagination, but for a moment he could feel the heat radiating off her bare pussy. "Hey," he said, and then the first thing that came to mind, "You're naked." Elle wrinkled her nose, like she was trying to come up with a snappy comeback. "You gonna do anything about it?" "Yeah. Gonna kiss you," Jason said. His coordination was too strange and swaying to get to his feet, so he scooted across the pillows until his head could reach her. He leaned forward, pushing his lips against hers. They kissed in fits and starts, slowing to a lazy pace, then getting a burst of energy, twisting against each other, then back down to a crawl again. Her mouth tasted like the spices in the smoke, and to be honest, it made him want to take another drag. "We should do one together," Elle said. She wanted another drag too. Jason nodded and rolled onto his back, gripping the mouthpiece like a microphone. "Three, two, one," he counted down, then sucked down the smoke, trying to keep inhaling for as long as Elle. Wisps of tingling spice wafted from the corners of his mouth, little plumes of smoke that he couldn't keep in. It was warm and delicious, almost like a spiced snack. The fragrant trail ran through his spine and up into his brain. Jason imagined one of those MRI brain-map things, and all the areas lighting up in yellow and red at the same time. He closed his eyes, meaning only to blink. Jason's eyes were still closed, but a pair of hands sat on his shoulders. They squeezed inward with their thumbs, drawing up his muscles, then kneaded back down with their fingers. One smooth, steady motion, again and again, running from the edge of his shoulders to the sides of his neck, then back. A clicking noise came from right above his head, even and regular, like the sound of a spring buckling. Eight clicks, then a pause. Jason opened his eyes and looked up at a pair of bare, white breasts looming into his field of view. Above them, he could see a white chin and jaw, and down closer to his head, the female's white arms reaching down to his shoulders. White, kind of like the receptionist, he thought. Must be attendants. Jason sat up slightly to get a good look at Elle. Another series of eight clicks came, but from her direction, instead of right above him. Her legs had fallen open, her eyes heavily lidded, and kneeling behind her was a female figure, kneading their hands into his girlfriend's back. The figure was white from head to tip of her stiletto heel, and shaped like a jackal, or maybe a doberman, or maybe even a fox. Some slender-muzzled canine. She had an idealized figure; a small hourglass made of spheres and smooth curves, suggestive without resorting to exaggerated sizes. Her body was smooth, white, even glossy, catching the light with a polished shine like latex. And she had no face. There was a head, and all the features you'd expect like ears and a snout, but there were just...no holes. No eyes. No mouth, no expression, just a big, canine-shaped blank. She had no face. "Uh, hey," Jason said, looking up at his attendant. Another one of the eight-click noises was the only response. "Like...what's the deal?" he asked, gesturing at his face. His attendant cocked her head and looked down at him. She was just as featureless. The two attendants could have been squeezed from the same mold. Elle blinked herself awake and looked groggily up at the attendant above her, then over at Jason. He motioned up at the two attendants. "I think they...came in, or something," he said. "They're kinda weird," Elle said, though she didn't make any attempt to move away from the backrub she was getting. "Hey, don't be rude," Jason said, then looked up at his attendant's non-face again, for lack of a better place to look when speaking to her. "Huh...can you even talk?" he asked. Another click-click-click-click. "They're good though," Elle said. Her tail, draped off to the side, curled and twitched as her attendant kneaded the knots in her back into submission. Jason made a low noise of agreement and nodded slowly. His eyes fell down to his shaft, still sticking up stiff and hard. God damn, he wanted to take care of that, but it'd be weird with the attendants in the room. But it was getting easier to ignore them, now that the shock had worn off. They were featureless enough to almost blend into the walls if you weren't paying close attention. Jason reached down and curled his paw around the base of his shaft, cradling the knot and stroking up along the bottom of the shaft with his pointer finger. "Stop jerking off, dude," Elle said, with her hand pressed down between her legs, rubbing the pads of her fingers against her swollen and sensitive folds. "You first," Jason said. Elle just huffed and grabbed her mouthpiece with her other hand. Jason did the same; he was starting to lose the taste of the smoke in his mouth. Maybe he should try to stay awake this time, he thought. He breathed in sharply, pulling a big bolt of smoke through the tube and right into his lungs. The spices crackled up into his brain as his eyelids grew heavy. Yeah. Try to...stay up. The attendant working his shoulders dug her fingers into him with a slow rhythm that rocked him back and forth, back and forth, his head nodding as his eyes rolled shut. Jason snapped his eyes open again. There was a weight on top of him now, a gentle pressure on either side of his hips. He looked up at the white figure straddling him. She was more well-endowed than the attendants, with thicker hips and ass that hugged his thighs, and bigger, rounder breasts. And, on her head: no face. Smaller ears, though, and a flatter muzzle. Even though her skin was nothing but uniform white gloss, he could tell she was a doe. Or, at the very least, deer-shaped. The doe's hands rested on his stomach and she leaned forward. His stiff, insistent erection rested against the curve of her belly. Jason could feel that if she had eyes, she'd be staring into his right now. She made a clicking sound; eight, evenly-spaced clicks. Even in his current state, Jason could tell that the doe wanted to fuck him. "Elle," he said sleepily, rolling his head to the side. Elle was splayed back against the pillows like they were a reclining chair, flanked by three of the white-latex, faceless, canid attendants. One was behind her, working her hands up and down along her back; one on her left, stroking her fingers across her chest and rubbing her lower abdomen; and one on her right, a hand on her shoulder and the other resting on her thighs. With the hookah and the smoke curling around her, she looked like she was being attended to by harem girls. Elle didn't say anything, but she was watching Jason and the doe. She had a soft, mischievous grin on her face and her eyes were half-lidded. It took all of Jason's thickly drugged focus to not start grinding up against the doe. She wasn't moving, but her weight was a constant push against Jason's body every time he shifted on the pillows. His stiff cock rubbed up against her, whether he liked it or not. "Elle," Jason said again. "Shh," she said. Her grin grew wider, then she lifted the mouthpiece to her lips and drew down another puff of smoke. With a puff of wisps into the air, she said, "I wanna watch." Jason's conscience, even if it was smoke-addled, was clear. If Elle was cool with it, he'd do it. He reached out and rested his hands on the faceless doe's thick thighs. She wasn't warm like a human; she felt room-temperature. He pressed his shoulders against the ground and lifted his hips into the air, arching up against her smooth latex stomach. The doe clicked at him, eight evenly-spaced clicks that sounded like some malfunctioning respirator. But she didn't even have a mouth... The weirdness of the situation dawned vaguely on him, but everything was too wrapped up in everything else. The attendants, the smoke, Elle, the faceless latex-covered doe on top of him; he couldn't pull just one out of the equation. Hooking her hips around his waist, the doe lifted herself up and lowered down onto his cock. Unlike the other attendants, who seemed to be blank below the waist, the doe wasn't. She had a glossy white mound, smooth latex labia, and a slick, featureless pussy. The way her body pressed against him as she moved, she felt uniform; like instead of bone and muscle and flesh, she was all gently pliable. Her body stretched around his cock as he lifted up his hips in steady rhythm. "Dude, what?" Jason said. The doe reached down, picked up the mouthpiece laying at Jason's side, and pressed it to his lips. He was confused, but he definitely didn't want to be rude. He sucked in a deep drag, then let out the smoke toward the doe's chest. She made no response, just continued to hold the mouthpiece in front of Jason's face. The longer the doe stayed on top of him, the more willing he was to accept it. Weird, yeah, but she was fascinatingly smooth, and her pussy could clench around his cock in waves, little squeezes that traveled down his length. It was strange, but so sexually charged that he couldn't pull himself away. His hands drifted up from her hips, tracing along the smooth curves of her sides, and coming up to cup her heavy breasts. Her figure was impossible--maybe, with corsets and implants, you could achieve it, but her breasts didn't feel like implants. They didn't feel like breasts. They were more pliable and elastic, willing to deform when he pushed on them. Though stroking his claws along the smooth latex of her tits didn't make her clicking any faster or louder or change it at all, he kept it up. If nothing else, he was entranced by how the ghosts of his fingers slid along behind his hands. The doe rocked up and down above him. She moved fast, as if she was in the groove of fucking, but she didn't seem excited or eager. She moved like someone who had no instincts; someone who had seen sex and knew what it was meant to be like, and had worked out a simple mathematical formula for how to move. Jason didn't care, because he sucked down another lungful of smoke and sunk further into her pliable body. He shifted underneath her to get a better angle. He arched high until he felt his knot knocking against her. She felt too tight, but then...a few hard pushes...and he was in, his entire shaft sunk into her up to the base. All it took was one rubbery pop. A heavy moan reached Jason's ears, but it couldn't have come from the doe. Shifting his head and looking to the side, he saw Elle with an attendant's hand stuffed between her legs. Elle was the one holding it there. He pulled down another drag from the hookah. The smoke bubbled in the back of his mind as his vision swam and prickled. He held it in his lungs right as his breath began to hitch. With a groan and a puff of smoke, Jason came. It felt extra forceful; maybe that was the smoke getting into his head. His hands fell to the doe's hips again and he squeezed tight, holding on. She didn't stop her mechanical motions, even with him slammed up against her and spurting violently into her. His hips fell and he dragged her with him. Knotted too tightly to pop out right away, even for her elastic skin, he guessed. He settled down, a lazy, satisfied grin on his face, and leaned back against the pillows. The faceless doe seemed unchanged, although she was no longer vigorously riding him. Still as a statue, she straddled him. "Amazing, like, wow," he said. He pushed his palms against her thighs, but she didn't budge. Ah well, some girls liked to wait for it to go down all the way on its own. He tossed his hands behind his head, grinning. Then he winced and the hair all along his spine stood up. A wet tickle trailed down along his cock. It felt like warm cum rolling down the side of his cock in small beads, but along the inside of his penis. He squeezed his legs together and jerked back, but the doe was sitting still and her pussy wouldn't let him pull away. "Hey, can you get off?" he asked through a wince, trying to squeeze a hand down to try to work himself free. All he got was another uncomfortable tingle as that sensation twisted around inside his shaft. His hips instinctively jerked against the strange feeling and his cock flexed. It was a moment's relief, but the feeling tickled its way down deeper, into the base of his cock, and then all the way into his body. His paws flexed and he jerked again as it hit his prostate, sending a burst of uneasy pleasure through him. Despite himself, his cock felt hard and heavy. Jason shoved his thighs together. The whatever-it-was curled all the way up through his body, and now slid down the ducts that ran right to his balls. He had never been so consciously aware of his own anatomy before. It was like he had been laid open and a smooth finger traced the path from the tip of his shaft right down to his testicles. Something was oozing around down there, something spreading and bulging and burbling. His voice came out in creaks and gasps as he twisted one way, then another. The doe stirred. With impeccable balance, she rolled up from her knees and onto her latex-coated hooves. His cock popped out with a satisfyingly crisp pop. One of the attendants rose to help her. Jason was left staring at his crotch, feeling the smoke trickling out of his brain. The shock sobered him up. Propped up on his left hand, he reached out with his right, trembling faintly. His cock was glossy black. Where it had been about the length of his palm, from palm to pointer finger, now it was nearly twice that. In its semi-erect state, its own weight made it sag along its length. The canine shape was still there, though thickened, as was his knot, but everything right down to his sheath was coated in black latex. The churning in his balls hadn't been benign either. He cupped them and felt their weight, he squeezed them, and a strange, heated tingle ran through him. He licked his lips involuntarily, looking at the hookah mouthpiece... No, not now. "Elle," he said, sitting up. The vixen lifted her head and blinked sleepily at him. "There's some weird shit going on. We should go," he said. Elle pushed at the hands of the attendants stroking and massaging her, so that she could sit up. She had a groggy grin. Her eyes roamed over Jason's face, then rolled down his stomach to look at the thick black shaft protruding from its sheath. "C'mon...I haven't had any fun," she said. She wobbled as she crawled towards him. Elle flopped herself onto his lap, giggling to herself. Jason tried to shrink back, but his motor functions were still uncoordinated. His hands slipped and he fell back onto the pillow. His conscious mind was at odds with his base desires. His sobering self wanted to drag Elle out of here and head back to the car, but the lazy, horny animal inside wanted to just lay back. "Nnnuh, I'm serious," Jason said, with a giggle that sounded hardly serious at all. Elle flicked her eyes up at Jason and gave him a big, sly smirk. She pulled herself up closer, until her chest was resting on top of his thighs, then bent forward. With one hand, she reached out and grabbed the base of his shaft. The knot hadn't had time to slip back yet, so she slid her paw pads around it and squeezed. Jason whined. A throb went all the way down his inky black shaft. Little strings of saliva hung between her tongue and teeth as she opened her mouth. How long had her mouth been watering? She stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the bottom of his shaft. Curling her neck, she twisted her tongue along the underside of his cock, sliding up to the very tip with a small slrrp. Jason shuddered. A pulse rose up through his body, but nothing came from his cock, not even a little spurt of pre-cum. Elle pulled back, smacked her lips, and smiled. "So weird. You're glossy and you taste like...I dunno, gloves or something," she said, more mumbled to herself than anything. That wasn't going to deter her, though. She gave his knot another squeeze and stroked his shaft just above the black bulb a few times, so that it swelled and stiffened in her hands. She stared up at Jason until she caught his eyes, and then, keeping eye contact, she opened wide and began to slip his cock into her mouth. Her lip rolled down along the tip, swinging her jaw smoothly open. As her mouth spread around the length, her tongue pressed up against it. Normally, it would've helped her to lubricate first, but as smooth and slick as his shaft now was, he didn't even need it. Her hands on the base of his cock kept him steady for her, and they rubbed at the tender skin there too. Despite the latex coating, his cock was still sensitive. Jason didn't know how it worked, but he couldn't think about it too hard. It was as if instead of ending at his skin, his nerves now went all the way to the surface of the latex. He could feel every squeeze and every press as if it was his own flesh. "We should go-ohhh,"Jason said. His hips flexed near the end of his sentence, and his words fell into the back of his throat, disappearing into a long groan. His eyes fought to stay open. He arched his back away from his shaft, like he was trying to squirm away from it. Despite his misgivings, Elle lavished affection on his cock. She pressed the backs of her teeth against it as she drew back, then tightened her lips and sucked until her cheeks pinched inward when she slid back down. He could feel his shaft tickling the back of her throat. Each time it did, her paws flexed, claws extended. She fought not to gag, wrinkling her nose and squinting her eyes. Even though she was struggling with its size, she worked his cock like a champion. The muscles in Jason's groin tensed against each other and he shrunk back despite small, instinctual thrusts of his hips. His body undermined all his attempts to get away, and what it couldn't handle on its own, Elle was more than happy to help with. Elle dug down deep, until her nose bumped up against his knot. She squeezed with her hands, harder than his cock would have allowed if it had been all flesh and blood. The elastic sensation arched through him, pulling him off the ground. He managed to get one foot underneath him and rose off the ground for a moment, then came thudding back down. In the jolt, his orgasm slipped free. He nearly buried his chin in his chest, fingers balled into fists gripping the cushions. Elle's throat opened up, and she was ready to suck down, but as he began to throb and pump, her eyes went wide. Her chest seized and she twisted to one side. She popped her mouth off of his cock with a heavy puff of smoke. Now his eyes were wide too. A wisp of smoke spiraled up from the tip of his latex cock. Elle coughed, nearly falling onto the pillows. Big puffs of white erupted from her mouth as her back and shoulders hitched, while she struggled to take in another breath. The faceless attendants in the room began their click-click-click-click again, loud and sharp, though none of them moved to help her. They were all standing back along the wall now, clustered into small groups, watching. "Fuck, that's strong," Elle said. Her ears were splayed wide and her eyes looked slightly reddened. She dragged her fingers through her hair like she was trying to keep herself from going wild. "Your dick smoke is great," she said. "Dude, I just jizzed smoke! We are getting the fuck ou--" A white latex hand interrupted Jason, forcing the mouthpiece of the hookah between his lips, then clamping his mouth shut. With two fingers over his snout, he was forced to breathe the smoke in, then allowed to exhale it through his nose. He grasped for the latex thighs and arms of the attendant behind him, but his arms swung like a bad puppeteer was pulling his strings. With a hungry groan, Elle shoved herself back onto his cock. Unlike the first time, she didn't move methodically and carefully. She had the energy of an addict, one hand squeezed tightly around his knot, the other bracing herself on his thigh. Her mouth opened for long, languid licks, then closed again for furious sucking and bobbing that sent her page cut flying. Jason reached out and tried to push Elle's forehead away. Either she was feeling fierce, or his muscles were unwinding, or possibly both. The attendant still forced him to smoke, and the only thing keeping him conscious was the small gasp of fresh air he could get each time before his nose was plugged again. If his new smoke-cum wasn't badenough, his cock seemed to need no rest period--it was ready to go immediately, and was already growing stiff and rubbery-firm in her mouth again. His hand slumped off of her forehead, dripping down onto his own thighs. His eyes rolled in their sockets. The spiced smoke had so infused his lungs that he was starting not to even smell it any more. The taste, sweet and just a little savory, still lingered on his tongue. Jason groaned against the hand covering his mouth. Elle flexed her mouth and sucked. Now that he knew what it was, he could feel the way the smoke came swirling in big, thick bursts out of his cock, and then right down Elle's throat. She lifted herself up, eyelids heavy. Her mouth swung open and she breathed out a huge cloud of smoke. Two coughs punctuated the very end. She licked her lips, then plunged back down over him. Her back was hunched, her feet digging in to steady her frantic bobbing. Again, not an ounce of strain; again, his cock was rising up stiff. The attendant finally let his mouth go. The mouthpiece dropped to the floor and he fell onto his back, wheezing and coughing. Elle kneaded his cock, dragging her lips along his shaft, working his balls with her other hand. He squirmed, like strings were wrapped around his shoulders and tied to his testicles. Each squeeze felt like it was...priming him. With a whining groan, he came again. His load was thick and fresh. Elle tossed her head back, sucking up the last wisps of smoke with an incredibly deep breath. She let the smoke roll back out over her lower lip. "Fuck. So good," she groaned, while Jason struggled to overcome his grogginess and push her away from his cock. Elle had no trouble now. Her fourth and fifth puffs she took like a pro. Her chest puffed up, she held in his big, smokey load, then blew it out in a thick plume over her head. She scratched at her head and chuckled lazily. Her ears refused to stay perked up. He could smell his own smoke, like the hookah's but warmer to the nose and much thicker, stronger of cloves and vanilla. Her head lolled from side to side on her shoulders. Each of her breaths in came with a little wheeze now. She fell against him again and sucked another load of smoke out of him. Once she'd blown it all out, her wheezes were louder and deeper. It was like she was fighting against breathing the clear air. Again, she fell forward against him and pawed at his cock. Each successive orgasm ground down Jason's will. His body responded faster to her grabbing his cock, his hips freely pressing up against Elle's mouth when she slurped him down. He feared she wouldn't stop. She was addicted and would keep puffing away if he didn't do...something. His hands managed to find and cling to the back of her head. His heart was hammering, the smokey haze was swirling in his head again, and he'd just been brought to orgasm six times. The whirl of horny thoughts focused in on one point, and that was that he needed to fuck so he could get some relief at last. With a lazy growl, Jason raised his hips and pulled her throat forward. If he just fucked hard enough, maybe it would be done with. His mouth open, he groaned and panted. Elle bumped up and down now. The side of her chest slapped against his thighs, but she found a way to prop herself up. His body made him push harder and harder. She wasn't struggling with her throat any more. Despite the two of them bouncing all around, she kept a firm hold on his shaft. He grew more and more excited, jamming her snout down against his knot. His tongue hung out and he panted openly. He couldn't tell which push did it, because it was all a blur, but suddenly Elle couldn't pull away and her jaw locked. A yelp, muffled around his cock, came from Elle's throat. The sudden thick bulb forced behind her teeth was enough to shock her to some semblance of awareness. Mainly because she couldn't keep bobbing on his cock if her mouth was stuck around it. "Fuck. Sorry," Jason panted. He curled up and reached down, trying to pry Elle's jaw open further--but she groaned and thrashed her tail, so that was no good. He tried to wriggle his fingers in around the base of the knot, but he couldn't squeeze it enough to--nngh... A hot, smoky flash ran through him. He pulled his hand back, trying to back down from the near-orgasm he'd just had. Elle, her eyebrows knitted into a drugged-up frown, tugged her head. Jason yelped and curled over. "Careful!" he said. Nestled somewhere in his sheath, he felt a strange tug, as if something deeper than his cock was being pulled on, something deep between his legs that shouldn't be there. Elle was in no condition to listen. She jerked back again, whining something unintelligible. He felt something slide and immediately grabbed onto her head, trying to keep her in place. Elle twisted out of his grasp and yanked herself back. In the sudden jerk, she lost her balance and toppled back away from him. His cock wasn't free, though. He could still feel her mouth struggling to squeeze around it. He was sitting up, she was on her back, and his cock was...still in her mouth. Jason couldn't put words to the situation. He groped at his crotch. There was a thick hose, wrapped in red and black fibers. It was like the hoses that were part of the hookah, except his started down in his sheath, and ran all the way up to the base of the thick latex cock wedged into Elle's mouth. His dick was attached by a hose. 'Bad trip', he thought. Let this just be a bad trip. He nearly staggered to his feet, but all of a sudden, the attendants were on him. Clicking surrounded him, and though it never changed tone or speed, it sounded excited. One each took his arms, pinning them down spread-eagled at his sides. Another knelt behind him, wrapping her arm around his neck and pushing her stomach against the back of his head, so he could only look straight forward. Two more were at his legs, holding them down on either side. It was a miniature theater; he was the audience, and Elle was the show. Elle swayed up onto her knees and slumped forward. Both hands wrapped around the hose connected to Jason's cock. She squinted as she tugged on it. Jason squirmed against the attendants' hands, hips involuntarily jerking upward. Another hard tug from Elle, and the pressure became too much. Jason's eyes fluttered as he felt the rush of smoke swirling from his balls and out along the hose. One of the attendants reached out and squeezed his testicles, turning her hand slowly as if opening a valve. His toes flared and he whimpered in the back of his throat. It felt like he was cumming and he couldn't stop. Elle's back straightened as she breathed in. Her eyelids fell and her chest rose. She breathed out. Two small plumes of smoke shot from her nostrils. Jason shuddered as she breathed in again, drawing the smoke in for longer. Her chest rose...and continued to rise. Her waist drew inward as if freeing up space for her chest, as if something was squeezing her stomach from the inside. She exhaled less smoke than the first time. Jason struggled, pulling at each limb in turn. The attendants were deceptively strong and they had a powerful grip. He couldn't do anything but sit there and watch as Elle breathed in more of his smoke. The squeeze of her mouth made him shudder with unwanted pleasure. She rose up higher on her knees, still holding onto the hose, but now in the way she might hold a popsicle stick. As she breathed in again, he heard the bristling of tightening tendons across her chest. He thought it sounded like the snapping of glow-sticks; wet and small and elastic. Her breasts spread across her chest, losing what slight definition they had as they were pulled tight. Her throat stretched visibly beneath her trachea. "Elle, stop!" Jason gasped. An attendant clamped her hand over his mouth, jamming it shut. He saw Elle's ears perk up for a moment, but then she took in a sharp gasp. Unlike the slow breaths, her chest thundered out tightly. He could almost see her ribs shifting underneath her fur, her skin tightening against the round swell of her chest. For a moment, he thought he could see through her fur, to the swirling clouds inside her chest. Only a small wisp of smoke shot from her nostrils. Her chest stuck out round, almost bulbous in front of her. Two of the attendants knelt on either side of Elle. They reached out and rested their hands on her chest, with a tender touch that made her shudder. Their fingers left little trails behind them as they grazed over her taut skin. It reminded him of how the doe's breasts had felt. That thought send another tremor of fear through his inebriated brain. Elle wasn't hesitating, though. She tightened her lips and drew another drag from Jason's cock. He tried to lock his muscles in some way to stop it, but he couldn't. No matter what he tried, the smoke from his body swirled up along the tube, through his cock, and right down Elle's throat. One of the attendants picked up the mouthpiece from beside him and jammed it between his teeth. He puffed angrily, but his body began to relax. The fight drained from his arms and legs. Fuck, he thought, squinting through the weight dragging him down. Elle breathed in again and Jason recoiled his hips in vain. She gathered the hose with her hands, holding it close to her over-swollen chest. She sucked in. Her waist drew tighter and her chest swelled out. Her ribs creaked and snapped, forcibly pushed out of shape by the pressure of the gases she was breathing in. Her unreal chest jutted out in front of her, almost shaped like a magnificent rack, but puffed out, rounded and smooth. No breasts, just one taut, rounded bulb. Jason could definitely see through her skin now: his smoke swirling inside of her chest, the wisps vanishing as her body absorbed them. Unfocused, her gaze drifted, pupils dilated so wide that her eyes might have been completely black. With a shudder of her jaw, Jason's cock poked half-free. The pressure of the latex knot itself slowly squeezed its way out of Elle's mouth, and as it slid free, the rest of it popped out with a soft, wet pop. His cock fell to the floor. Elle started to breathe in. One of the attendants took the hose that connected to Jason's dick and began to reel it back into his sheath. He watched, amid hazy puffs of smoke from his snout, as his cock neatly slipped back into its proper position. Elle was still breathing in. Jason's ears were splayed, but he could still hear a low, wet bubbling from Elle's stomach. Elle's attendants clicked and stroked her balloon-like chest. Through her tight-stretched skin, Jason watched new smoke roiling up from deep inside her. It began as little tendrils, then swelled into deep, thick clouds. Her back arched. She nearly toppled onto her face, but the attendants were there immediately, supporting her shoulders. Each still had a hand on her chest, and now, they pushed in. A brief shock flashed over her face. For a moment she seemed to be aware of what was happening. Then she was deep in her drugged torpor again, and her neck was swelling, and she had to breathe out. Elle put her lips together and began to blow, and as she did, out came sweet smoke. She hadn't taken a puff in minutes; she'd only been breathing in. The smoke was coming from inside her, and it didn't stop. Jason could smell lavender and rose in the blend. Elle's knees spread and she rubbed her hands along her thighs. Her eyelids fluttered over her vacant eyes. The curling plume of smoke continued to waft from her mouth. Her legs trembled, and then drops of slick fluid fell to the floor from her aching pussy. She finished exhaling her smoky breath. With a baffled look, as if she was having another brief moment of clarity, her eyes rolled down to her chest. She reached her hands up and squeezed the huge swell. It was literally hourglass-shaped, a thick, rounded protrusion that tapered down to her waist. She pressed against her skin, feeling its pliability and softness. Her chest gave way under her fingers. "Wuh...?" Elle said, lifting her head, looking at Jason. He looked back at her and saw the confusion on her face. Then her arms slumped down to her side and her eyes glazed over again. The attendants squeezed her chest. A final tremor ran through her, getting a small grunt and some more of her juices dripping onto the floor. Her head sloped to one side. She sat there, still, like a stoned statue. The attendants were clicking all around them again. Two of them came to Elle, grabbing her arms and bending them out straight. They rubbed their hands along the tops of her arms, and from their palms came a thick, gooey black substance that clung to Elle's red fur. The latex goo swallowed up her fur and left a smooth coat of black. Black latex, unlike the white latex of the attendants. Jason was too dazed to tell if that was important. The mouthpiece was plucked from his mouth and the hand holding his snout shut let go. He took a deep breath, and began to say, "Let her ghh--" He was cut off by a hand slapping on top of his muzzle, smearing smooth black goo across his face. It dried and sealed quickly, blocking off his nose and mouth. He made muffled groans, but then more goo spread across his cheeks and throat stifled those too. No matter whether he tried to shout or groan or say anything, all that came out was steady, regular clicking. Eight clicks, more mechanical than natural. The attendants tending to Elle took plenty of time on her chest, coating and re-coating it to keep the latex from thinning out. Jason could watch the fur sinking down into the smooth black, turning smooth and featureless. The reflective shine stretched across the broad bulb of her chest, making it look even more swollen and artificial. The black latex coating went on with a soft slap, then a long smear. The attendants stretched the goo coating over his body. From his shoulders down to his elbows, then all the way to his hands, which they gently scrubbed until they were dripping with it. It didn't take more than five seconds for it to tighten more-than-skin-tight, and then it felt like a part of him. The tightness was slimming, and only highlighted his scant frame. Elle's attendants took turns sweeping the goo across her stomach, working down lower and lower. Her bellybutton got smoothed over. They reached between her legs and curled their fingers, but no pleasure registered on Elle's face or her blank eyes. With her strange proportions, the more she vanished beneath the latex, the less real she seemed. As she exhaled a thick cloud of smoke, a rush of dark juices rolled out from between her latex-encased folds. Dimly, Jason noticed that he hadn't needed to breathe for the past few minutes. The more the latex enveloped him, the foggier he felt. What the smoke hadn't sapped away of his willpower, the slick goo was robbing him of now. A clinical motion across his balls and sheath let the latex sink in there, giving his rubber cock a fitting home. A hand splashed the goo right onto his head and his eyes swam. If his jaw could have gone slack, it would have. His eyes rolled back into his head as the latex dripped down around his ears, over the bridge of his snout, and into his eyes. Everything went black. Then he could see, but he didn't have to blink. It was warped, like a fish-eye lens, giving him a wider angle of vision. With a rub of each of his ears from the attendants, the goo glorped down into his inner ear, and then everything was quiet, except for the clicking. Elle's face vanished bit by bit beneath the latex. They covered her snout, then her eyes, then worked their way up to her scalp and ears. She didn't move; she didn't even close her eyes as the latex overtook them. As it dried, it formed a smooth, simplified surface across her snout and muzzle and face; it was the shape of a fox, without the features. As the goo encased her feet, the attendants shaped and sculpted it like potters, forming it into the curled platform and spiked heel that they all seemed to sport. The attendants clicked at her. She slowly stood, as if she had forgotten which joints were which. After a moment's wobbling, she held her balance despite her over-swollen chest. The attendants were clicking...in approval. She was finished. How did Jason know that? Even under the latex, he felt the heat of being observed. They were looking at him now, clicking: he wasn't ready yet. He tried to ask what was going on, but he only managed to click back. Eight toneless clicks in a row, a slight pause, then eight more. The attendants talked to each other via clicks; some left the room, others hoisted his shoulders up and shoved pillows under him to prop him up. Elle wasn't there any more, but he wasn't worried; he'd see her again soon. We took good care of our own, he thought. Where had that thought come from? He wasn't sure, but it was soothing to just let the thoughts bubble up through the latex. Lie back. Relax. Don't struggle. We're going to finish him off. Though his sense of recognition was fading, he still perked up at the sight of the doe clicking back into the room on her hooves. Her blank face no longer seemed so strange to him. The trickle of latex into his brain was adjusting his sense of what was normal. She sat down, straddling his knees, then leaned forward over him. A ripple traveled along her muzzle, and then her snout pressed against his cock. Letting out a series of clicks, Jason pressed up against her as she pushed down. The front of her face deformed, and then with a wet plop all of a sudden his cock was inside what you could call her 'mouth'. The doe's body pulsed with ripples that started from her tail, then propagated across her body, until they reached her muzzle and his cock. Each pulse made Jason click and push his hips, and with each pulse, the doe tightened her latex around his shaft. Without lungs she couldn't suck, but there was a natural vacuum created from the tight fit of latex cock in pseudomouth, making a rubbery slrrp each time it popped free. Two attendants flanked him, pulling a nozzle connected to surgical tubing. As he raised himself up against the doe's false mouth, the attendants slipped the nozzle underneath him where it came to settle right beneath his tail. For a short moment, he felt indignation, but that was dissolved away by the soothing feeling of the latex pumping into him. He should feel glad that his tubes were getting flushed out. A soft hiss radiated out from the nozzle squeezed into him. He arched his back and clicked out loud. The fresh fluids pumping into him filled out his body in subtle ways. They added definition to his chest and shoulders, brought out more of the curve of his hips. The attendants--or drones, as they called themselves--were very much against individuality, but their 'floor models'; Concierge, Doe, and now he and Elle; were meant for interacting with the public. They were allowed some modicum of identity. Doe pulled her head back, sealing her pseudomouth back up. She switched to a hand job instead. She rubbed up and down over his latex shaft, squeezing the bulb tightly as if to show off how pliable it was. Jason clicked, then let the smoke puff out thick from his cock. It started and wouldn't stop, as long as Doe kept working his cock. As his old smoke escaped, he could feel fresh smoke swelling up thicker inside of him, sharper and more potent. And with the new material getting pumped into him, his skinny stoner's frame looked more and more enticing. A broader chest, with smooth, thick pecs; strong shoulders; and a tightly honed core rose out of him as he was pumped up fuller and tighter. Even his name broke apart in his mind now. 'Jason' drifted apart into its letters, which themselves slowly organized into eight vertical lines. He was a latex drone; he wouldn't need that. His memories sifted into the drones' collective subconscious. His motions against Doe became stiff and mechanical. All natural instinct for sex slipped out of his mind, replaced by a simple series of movements. By the time the drones pulled the nozzle free from his body, he looked toned but not ripped, broad but not burly. The muscle-like bulges of his latex flexed realistically, though there was no actual muscle underneath, just more of his latex matrix. It was a curvaceous, modelesque brand of good-looking. If he hid his cock, he could even pass for a handsome mannequin. A stirring started in his balls and rose up through him, passing through the tender areas of his latex, then surging out through his dick's hose, and up all the way to the tip of his shaft, where it burst free in pungently strong, thick white clouds of fresh smoke. An orgasm to flush him completely clean. A sense of satisfaction rolled through his assimilated mind, the same sort of satisfaction that a freshly-oiled tool might feel. Doe rose to her hooves again. They clicked on the floor as she walked off. He needed to get up and follow. The attendant drones would be back to clean the room soon. But for a moment, he leaned back against the pillows and slid his slick hands along his body. Floor model drones were allowed a modicum of identity, and his little scrap of self was pride. He felt sexy.

With a series of clicks, he stood, marionette-like, and cleared out of the room.

The jaguar girl led the way into the private booth, with her coyote friend just a few steps behind. "She was barely even looking at us. I thought a hookah bar would be, I dunno, cool," the coyote said. She nearly bumped into the jaguar's back. She'd stopped suddenly and a grin was on the her face. The coyote followed her friend's eyes to the pillows piled up across the room. Laid back on the pillows was a handsome fox-like figure--fox-like, because he seemed to be entirely covered in black latex. Handsome because, well, you could really snuggle up against a chest like that. Not to mention the thick, knotted shaft casually poking from his sheath. "This is weird," the coyote said. "No," the jaguar said, "this is hot." The fox-thing had noticed them coming in; his head, despite having no eye- or nose-holes, perked up. He reached down between his thighs and with a small tug...pulled his cock out of his groin. It was attached to his body by a thick woven hose. A light squeeze of his fingers, and his cock puffed a plume of smoke from the tip. A savory, spiced smell began to fill the room. "This is really weird," the coyote said. The jaguar stepped forward, tossing a smug look over her shoulder. "Then I call dibs. Hey, handsome. Can I...?" She reached out for the shaft, sliding down onto her knees. The fox-thing held out his shaft in offering, and she took it from him. The coyote watched anxiously as her friend slid that cock into her mouth, holding it in place with her lips, and sucking. After a long drag, the jaguar pulled the dick out and wheezed out a burst of smoke. She managed to say, "Fuck, that's good." She shoved it back in and drew in a deeper breath. Behind her, the coyote began to step forward. As her friend sucked down the smoke, her eyelids grew heavier and her ears drooped. Another puff, and she was no longer sitting up on her knees, but resting her ass on top of her heels. Another, and she slumped sideways, one hand propping herself up, the other holding onto his cock. When she pulled the latex dick free from her mouth, she made soft wheezes, as if she was struggling to breathe fresh air. Her throat made an 'uhhhh, uhhhh' sound on each breath in. "We need to go," the coyote said. "I, uhhh, need it." The jaguar, red-eyed, didn't let go of the shaft. "Come on," she said, giving her shoulder a tug. "No. I, uhhh, called dibs. Uhhh, so fucking good." The jaguar shoved the shaft into her mouth again, pushing against the base until the thick knot popped in between her teeth. She sucked hard on the cock, wisps of smoke curling from her nose. She was wilting onto the pillows as her friend watched. The fox-thing was clicking, as if trying to encourage her to suck down more smoke. The coyote reached down and grabbed her friend by the arm. She slumped her way out of her grip, so she tried again, but again the jaguar wiggled away. Sucking on the cock jammed into her mouth, her eyelids fluttered. She breathed in deep, drawing down a lungful of smoke. And then the coyote watched as her friend's chest bowed outward. Like something inside was trying to get out, warping the shape of her body around her stretching lungs. The sound of cricks and snaps coming from her friend's chest set her teeth on edge. With a yelp, the coyote pulled away. She looked around as if trying to find something to help her. Even if the girl at the front door was entirely out of it, she had to be able to help, right? She didn't want to leave her friend behind, but she didn't know what else to do. She left the jaguar, sucking hungrily, laid back on the pillows, and turned to leave the room. She wasn't more than five steps out when another black latex thing stepped in front of her. It was also fox-like, but female...possibly. Its chest was like one thick, rounded bulb, tapering smoothly down to a corset-slim waist. It also had a featureless face: only the shape of a fox's muzzle, without nostrils or mouth or eyes. "Look, I don't care about this weird sex stuff, but something's happening to my friend, and she needs help!" she said. The female fox-thing just clicked at her. Then, it opened its mouth. It was a horrid, wet, sticky thing, connected by ribbons of latex that yawned open, each like their own mouth, then merged into one maw. Something slimy and black squirmed in the bottom of it, a frantic, tentacle-like tongue. It was as if the fox-thing's entire head had been split in half as it opened its mouth. There was no person inside, only swirling, glossy rubber. The coyote reeled back and screamed. Her mouth was wide open. The female fox-thing lunged and grabbed her. As its jaws merged again, they sealed tight over the girl's mouth, locking her into a parody of a kiss. Its chest surged out like a bellows sucking in air. As the latex stretched, it became nearly-translucent, revealing the swirling smoke surging up inside of it. And then it exhaled. Thick, debilitatingly sweet smoke forced its way into the coyote's throat, no matter how hard she tried to push it out. It sunk into her lungs, it clung to her throat, and it curled in wisps up into her nose. It seeped into her brain, tingling along her nerves. Her arms loosened and her knees slumped together. The kiss was the only thing holding her up. Her eyes struggled to stay focused, then rolled back. Smoke curled from her nose as she slumped forward into the latex thing's arms. As she sunk into the smoky haze of lavender and rose, she realized the fox-thing was dragging her back to the private booth. Then she slumped to the floor, drifting away on a silk-lined cloud of smoke.