Vixenscratch

Short stories and serials by Alexandra Herakai

The Fall of Judas: Gluttony

Judas was well camoflaged. There was no other word for it; he was very nearly as out of place as could be, but he’d managed to hide it. Not just that the club wasn’t really his kind of scene, though that certainly was part of it. Judging by the fact that the woman next to him, a blue tiger with quite captivating amber eyes, was offering to buy him a second drink, he was pretty sure it wasn’t just his discomfort with the environment that he’d managed to cover up.

He played along. He always did; it was how he scored more serious overtures. And he could really use those.

So he sipped his drink, flirted back, offered compliments that were half sincere, half an intellectual exercise, and made an effort to just happen to brush her hand when she reached over for the bowl of peanuts on the bar. With a sigh, she leaned into him, and he did remember, if barely, to lean back against her, nuzzle at her ear.

“Hey,” she not-quite-whispered, tilting her head up to nuzzle at his jaw in turn, “How ’bout you and me head back to my place, handsome?”

He put on a smile, practically purring his response. “Get a good meal in my stomach, and I’ll do anything you want, silver stripes.”

She giggled and gave his jaw a nip. “Name’s Kalliope. There’s this nice little place on the way… You don’t mind vegetarian food, do you?”

“Not at all,” he assured her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Should I finish my drink first?”

“Shame to let it go to waste.”

He neither rushed nor dawdled in draining the contents of his glass – either could have been an insult to his benefactress, and as such would have jeopardized his free meal. Even so, thirty minutes was probably a conservative estimate of the time it took before they were seated in a cozy booth in what Judas would never have guessed was a restaurant from the road. There was little enough on the menu he recognized; the menu was only helpful to the extent that it had the names of the dishes transcribed from the Greek to the  Latin alphabet. Not that the language seemed to be an obstacle to Kalliope; she barely eyed through the menu, then shouted something back through the otherwise-empty restaurant towards the kitchen in what might well have been Greek, or Latin, or Chinese, far as Judas was concerned.

“I’m sorry if I’m taking liberties,” she said, sounding not the least apologetic. “You’ll like this, and I don’t know about you, but I sure don’t want to put off… dessert… longer than necessary.”

“Oh… I…” Judas felt his ears fold back. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Thank you. I mean…”

The tiger giggled again. “Aww, you weren’t this shy back at the club. Which reminds me…” Her foot brushed against his ankle under the table, her toes nudging the cuff of his pant leg upwards by an inch or so. “You never told me your name.”

He hated this part; always wished they wouldn’t ask. “It’s Judas,” he mumbled, staring down at the tablecloth.

“What was that?” A hand cupping his chin, tilting his head up; she’d never have been able to accomplish it if the tables in this place hadn’t been so ridiculously small.

“Judas.” His ears folded back, and for what must have been at least the hundredth time in his life, he wished he’d bothered coming up with a fake name to at least give to his clients. “My parents had… issues.”

Like others before her, Kalliope fell silent once she had her answer, though he took it as a good sign that her right foot was still practically humping his left ankle. He was still trying to think of something to say to break the silence when the restaurant staff beat him to it, bringing two plates of food that, while still not exactly familiar, smelled appetizing enough to convince Judas it had been no disaster that Kalliope had ordered for both of them.

Ευχαριστούμε,” the woman chirped to the waiter, who acknowledged her with a nod and disappeared back out to the kitchen. “And thanks to you, as well, Judas.”

“Me?”

“For giving me an excuse to come here. Go on, taste the food, you’ll see what I mean.”

He didn’t exactly take the first taste to humor her, but he also didn’t exactly not. The food smelled interesting, that much was true, but there were enough unfamiliar notes to those scents that he was, on some level, still sceptical. A few bites later, well… he wasn’t as thoroughly smitten with the cuisine as the tigress seemed to be, but he definitely appreciated it. To himself, at least, he also had to admit that it on some level constituted a welcome change of pace, as something as exotic as foreign food wasn’t exactly a part of his regular diet.

Conversation over dinner mostly stayed on one of two subjects: the food, which Kalliope knew quite a bit about, and flirting thinly disguised as small talk, which Judas could at least pretend to be decent at. In honesty, she was a pleasant woman whom, had circumstances been different, he might have gotten along well with for real, as opposed to their current charade. He was probably about to get closer to her than he would have under that kind of circumstances, but that was through no failing of hers.

The problem was, of course, that circumstances weren’t different.

They didn’t linger after they’d finished their food; Kalliope called for their check (or so Judas guessed; he had no way of knowing what exactly she shouted in the general direction of the kitchen) only moments after they’d put their silverware down, and it showed up only slightly less promptly. Paying for their dinner was the work of moments, and once that was done the tigress slipped her arm into his, leading him back out onto the street and down along it.

He wasn’t entirely sure he knew where he was, at this point; he knew they hadn’t gone terribly far, but Kalliope seemed to favor shortcuts through narrow alleys, and he recognized neither the street names nor the buildings they passed. That made him a little nervous; while she hadn’t given him the impression of posing a threat before, he didn’t like the thought of not being able to find his way back to the dorms on his own.

Finally, she stopped outside a heavy, oversized wooden door with six tiny window panes. “This is it.” A few moments of digging in her purse later, she produced a keyring and waved it in front of a sensor that was nearly invisible in the dark. Almost immediately, the door responded with a low buzz and a click, and Kalliope pulled it open. “After you.”

Judas didn’t consciously notice much about the stairwell other than the fact that it had regularly spaced lights and gave the impression of being somewhat old, in a dignified sort of historical library way. He did notice that Kalliope took his hand rather than his arm as she lead him up the square-spiral stairs, up and up past landings he wasn’t paying enough attention to count. She only stopped when the stairs ended in a door with a plaque bearing the name Papadopoulou, giving her guest a few seconds to catch his breath after the climb as she stuck her key in the lock and twisted it.

At her gesture, Judas stepped inside ahead of her, and suppressed a shiver when he heard the door close and be locked behind him.

Moments later, her arm was wrapped around him from behind and she pulled him close, half-hissing, half-whispering in his ear, “You don’t mind if we step things up a notch, do you?”

He shook his head, carefully, then found his voice. “You bought me dinner; I’m all yours.”

“How… mercenary.” She laughed, giving his ear a nip, and one of her hands slid down to rub over his crotch, slowly urging some life into his pants. “But if I get to make requests, well… How would you care for dessert?”

Judas’s breath caught for a moment when she punctuated that question with a firm squeeze, then escaped as a soft whimper. “Why… why don’t you go ahead and order for me again? You did a fine job of it last time.”

Once again, she laughed, then gave him a gentle shove. “Through that doorway on your right. I’ll only be a minute; pull out the couch and make yourself comfortable in the meantime, mmh?” A tug on his belt. “Some less of this…” Another squeeze to his crotch. “…Some more of this. Sound good?”

“Sounds great,” he assured her, and was sent on his way through that doorway with a playful smack to his bottom.

The room she’d pointed him to – it looked more like a living room than a bedroom to him – was lit primarily by the street lights below and the moon above, their light washing in through tall windows taking up most of the opposite wall. It wasn’t like navigating in daylight by any stretch, but it was enough to see by, especially as his eyes started to adjust, so he left the ceiling lights alone and went for the pull-out couch she’d directed him to. It offered no great challenge, and once it was in order, he moved to follow the next step of his host’s instructions.

Folding each article of clothing after removing it and placing it neatly on a nearby chair did add some time to the task, but he didn’t own enough clothing to excuse simply dropping it to the floor in a heap. He was just putting down the last garment on the top of the pile when he heard paws whispering against the floor by the doorway.

The tiger had shed her own clothes, replacing them with a loose silk robe whose color, far as Judas could judge in the low light, was a good match for her eyes. It hung open, barely covering her nipples and not at all covering the spot where the soft white fur of her belly disappeared between her thighs. To the polecat’s surprise, she seemed to have brought at least something more conventionally edible with her, as well, in the form of a fine stemmed glass platter of red-and-white candies.

She sat gracefully at the edge of the sofa bed and waved him over, keeping the glassware in hand, held just a little off to the side, enough to be out of the way and not an inch more. When he sat next to her, she plucked one candy out of the bowl with her free hand, holding it in front of his nose until he parted his lips and let her pop it in. It tasted of mint and spread a cool sensation through his mouth as it slowly melted on his tongue.

He hadn’t expected her to kiss him, much less to do so when he still had the piece of candy in his mouth, but she did, grabbing the back of his head and sealing her lips against his, and he did his best to give as good as he got when her tongue explored his mouth, wet and hot and slightly rough. One of his hands found her thigh, stroking it firmly as she drank the last of his breath. When she finally released him he was panting, and only realized he no longer had the piece of peppermint candy when she grinned at him and crushed it between her teeth.

“Let me show you something,” she purred, pushing gently on his shoulder until he lay back, and then leaning in until her cold, damp nose touched the base of his firm-but-not-quite-hard shaft. He shivered at that gentle contact, then moaned as her tongue, bearing a confusing and delicious blend of heat and chill thanks to the mint on her breath, pressed against his bare skin and rasped along it to the tip. Then she lifted her head, looking impishly at him. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, feeling slightly dazed.

And then, she pulled off him, shuffling up the sofa-bed to half-lie against one of the armrests. There, she shifted her knees apart until the outside light was caught by wet skin, and plucked another candy from the bowl to wave it teasingly near her exposed sex for a few seconds. Judas saw her eyes narrow and heard her gasp softly as the fingers of her small hands curled, pushing it inside her.

“Come get your dessert, handsome,” she challenged, and Judas thought he heard a waver in her voice.

He didn’t need to be asked twice, however. Her approach was different, but he’d certainly been asked for this sort of favor before. The fingers of her free hand ran through his hair, cropped short enough to look like part of his fur, as he lowered his muzzle between her thighs. He did spare a few licks across the sensitive spot above her opening, making her fingers curl against his scalp, before concentrating his attention on attempting to retrieve the hidden sweet.

She gasped as he worked his tongue into her, her breaths growing faster and shallower with her already-rising excitement. Judas remained focused on the task at hand, in a fashion, lapping at her and savoring the blend of minty-sweet artificial flavor and that which had to be uniquely and quite naturally Kalliope. Somewhere in the back of his head, a past doubt whispered that he ought to enjoy this more, and he pointedly ignored it as he strained to get his tongue just a little bit further inside her, to curl it around the slowly-melting peppermint candy and retrieve it. He didn’t think managing to do so would be quite enough for Kalliope to remove his head from her crotch, but he’d done less pleasant women in exchange for a meal.

He did manage to fish the candy out, and spent a few moments licking around her opening before she grabbed one of his ears and pulled his head up. He looked up at her, freezing when she mouthed at him to stay, the only thing moving being his eyes as he watched her pick another three pieces of candy from the bowl, putting one in her own mouth and slipping the other two into her soaking wet sex, drawing a shivering moan from her. With a shaky smile at Judas, she wiped her damp fingers on his cheek, then slid her hand up behind the back of his head. That gentle pressure was all the signal he needed to tell him to get back to it.

His tongue slipped into her with relative ease, and then slipped out again just as easily, continuing upwards. She tensed momentarily as he did so, and then twisted mostly-involuntarily when he repeated the action. She didn’t move to push him away, though; if anything the hand clutching at the fur on his head seemed to try to pull him closer, so he continued, drawing louder and louder moans from the tigress as he did so, and eventually driving her to toss her head from side to side with the force of the sensation while her thighs pressed against his cheeks as he mercilessly continued his efforts through a third back-arching climax.

The platter of candies was long since all but forgotten, having slipped from her hand and down onto the bed the second time he brought her over the edge, after which that hand, too, had eventually found its way to his head. Now he went to ramp things up another notch, not simply licking but sucking hard at her candycane-flavored clitoris. She clutched at his ears, no sound passing over her lips from her locked throat, and writhed like a hooked fish through a fourth climax.

In the wake of it, she was trembling, and he eased off, gently licking at her slightly less sensitive labia until she started to still, managing to fish what little remained of the last-inserted pieces of candy out, and then stopped entirely.

The fur of her crotch was soaked, as was much of his muzzle and the base of her tail. When he lifted his head, she looked back at him with a somewhat dazed expression which took several seconds to change into a smile.

“You didn’t do that by halves,” she whispered, her voice thin and shaky.

He shuffled up alongside her, and pressed his nose against her cheek for a moment. “I just made sure to clear my plate.”

Laughter. “Staying the night?”

He shook his head, gave her a squeeze. “I’ve got a morning class; I’d better get back to the dorms.”

“Can I see you again? I’ve… enjoyed your company. Especially after we came back here.”

“I… I’ll give you my number if you think it’s worth a few dollars. It’s not you, just… Ends not meeting, you know?”

She raised an eyebrow, then gave him an amused snort. “You really are mercenary.”



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