Anaximander s Fragment
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Collaboration Fragment free porn video
FRAGMENT FROM A COLLABORATION
(Fragment One)
By C
Part I
It was a fine spring day at McGregor's Agricorp. In one of the many forestpreserves that bordered Mr. McGregor's vast holdings, a McGregor employee steppedquietly out from behind a tree. She was perhaps the most unusual person everto work for Agricorp: a cat/human hybrid. She looked like a girl for the mostpart, except that she had pointed ears, big yellow cat's eyes, and a cat'swhiskers. Her body was covered by a light orange down with black stripes. Moreover,she had a tail, downed and striped as well, that snaked out behind her. Also,her fingers were clawed; and if and when she opened her mouth, you'd see acat's fangs. Otherwise, quite human. She wore a diaphanous pink min-sari, extendingonly to her waist, a red mini-skirt, and red knee-length boots.
Over each shoulder, she had slung one of the bunnies she had just caught:bottoms up, legs before, heads behind. These were Mythican bunnies, of course:quite human in form, except for their long ears, whiskery noses, and fluffywhite tails. The tails stood straight up, as normally happens when the tenderflesh beneath them has been wounded. Dressed only in white long-sleeved chemisesand white high heels, these were two members of an all-girl bunny species.Their wrists were bound behind them with rope–a probably unnecessaryprecaution; they were quite out of it, from loss of blood.
Catgirl (for that had been her name as long as anyone knew) had used herusual stratagem to capture these two. She'd leave a heap of lettuce, carrots,parsley and what not in a clearing. Food and sex are the two most importantthings in a bunny's life, so an abundance of one naturally prompts thoughtsof the other. But Catgirl took no chances: she always laced her bait with apowerful Acme-patented aphrodisiac. No bunny had ever resisted it; none hadever wanted to. The wily huntress would then hide behind a nearby tree. Ifonly one bunny appeared and took the bait, Catgirl would let her go; ninety-ninetimes out of a hundred, she'd bring back a friend within minutes. Today, nowaiting had been necessary: an especially pretty couple walked hand in handinto the clearing.
When they saw the pile of provender, they gave out little cries of delightand descended on it. They ate, and ate, and ate, all thought of danger banishedfrom their food-crazed little brains. When at last they had stuffed themselvesbeyond the possibility of any further stuffing, they lay down side by sideand began to fondle each other's pussies. This went on for about a minute.Then they shifted position: now each could thrust her tongue into the other'stight little bunny twat, and they proceeded to do so. Soon they were thrashingand kicking and whimpering as the pressure built. Finally they groaned, loudlyand with abandon, as girl-semen jetted from their tongues. Just then, Catgirlfell on them. She threw herself across their bodies and savagely bit at theirgroins, again and again. Her victims screamed and frantically struggled, butit was hopeless. Soon, capture orgasms were wracking their bodies: their cuntsspurted blood, once, twice, a third time. At last, they lost consciousness.Catgirl tied their wrists behind them, put one over each shoulder, and setout for Field 67.
Field 67 lay fallow this season. Catgirl and Mr. McGregor had agreed she'dbring her prey here. Once a week, he'd come out for an inspection, and payher a bounty for each bagged bunny. When she stepped into the field, the firstthing she noticed, as always, was the sweet, almost over-powering fragranceof bunny pussy. Not surprising at all: one hundred dead bunnies were linedup in rows of ten on the field, their cunts as moist as ever. Bunnies stayedfresh a really long time, and none of these had been killed more than a weekbefore.
As she entered the field, her two charges began to come to. Moaning, theylooked around them for a while. Then the noise really got started.
"No! No! Oh dear God, no! Don't, oh please God, don't!" they wailed..
"Shush," said Catgirl. "You're already dead. You just have a little morekicking to do."
"Oh please, please, please, we're newlyweds!" one of the girls cried. "Havea heart, please!"
"Newlyweds? Lots of girlfriends, fiancees, and newlyweds here. Welcome tothe bridal suite!"
"Oh no, no, no, no! Oh dear God no! Have mercy, please, no!" and so on.
Catgirl sighed, and then yawned. Could this be the high water mark of hercareer: bagging brainless bunnies? These were 101 and 102, so she started anew row. Down they went, right next to each other. "No! No! Oh God, God, no!" Catgirlnoticed (was it for the first time?) that both had green eyes and yellow hair.The eyes were wide with terror.
"Eeny meeny miny mo," said Catgirl, then took hold of a pair of thighs. Thevictim kicked and struggled, but her captor was too strong for her. The girl'slegs came apart, and the huntress sank her teeth into the already wounded bunnycunt. This new injury prompted a high, thin, ghostly scream. Then it was nip,and suck up the juice; nip, and suck up the juice--as the hapless lagomorphthrashed, wailed, and moaned. It wasn't long before the final orgasms werewringing out her body. Then she was done.
"Now for number two." Catgirl sank her teeth into the second girl's groin.(Doing so prompted another high, unearthly scream). Again, it was nip, nip,nip, till this victim started spouting. Her cunt cream was thicker, and hotter,than her mate's, and she shrieked with every spurt. A last hard, surge of cream;a last hard kick; and she was as dead as all the others.
"Whew," said Catgirl, and yawned again. She hoped that she'd given the twoa worthy send-off. (Mythicans believe that fays relive the day of their captureand demise over and over again in the underworld; so it's important to givethem a last day to remember.) She hoped, but it was hard to pull out all thestops these days. Her heart just wasn't in it. Surely, there was somethingmore to life than this?
"Nice work," someone said behind her, and it wasn't Mr. McGregor. Catgirlturned and realized, with an infuriating mix of irritation and embarrassment,that Coyote was standing ten feet behind her.
"Those bunnies are warded," she said. "I'd be careful if I were you."
"Oh, I know that," said Coyote, as he reached down to fondle a dead but stillinviting bunny twat. A green spark leapt up from the defunct female and touchedhis paw. He yipped and jumped six feet into the air.
"I don't tell you these things because I'm in love with the sound of my ownvoice," said Catgirl.
"I'm sure you're not," said Coyote, rolling on the ground now to put outseveral small fires on his fur.
"Now, poaching aside, is there anything else you want? If not, I suggestyou beat a swift retreat. Mr. McGregor is coming in another minute or so, andhe's not someone it pays to make angry."
Having extinguished the fires, Coyote gave his voice a tone of wounded dignityand said: "Mr. McGregor asked me to meet him here."
"Oh, he did?" Catgirl was trying to sound scornful, but something very differentwas going through her mind. Oh great. McGregor probably wants tohire him, and show me the door. That fucking figures.
"Yes he did," said Coyote, shaking his head vigorously to disperse any lingeringsmoke. "It seems he's heard of a mission (a possibly very lucrative mission)that would be ideal for my talents–and yours."
"Mine? He said that?"
"Yup. He told me he thinks you're wasting your gifts here, bringing downbrain-damaged bunnies by the bushel."
"Well duhhh," said Catgirl. "If it weren't for this goddamned sexist fantasyworld I'm stuck in, maybe I'd be putting my talents to better use."
"Why don't you go to a world that's more, uh, congenial?"
"Because I can't afford the paradigm shift. But I'm saving up for it, believeme."
"Hmm," said Coyote. "If all you need is a loan, I could certainly . . . ."
"No. No way. I'm not gonna wind up owing you anything. I know you too wellfor that. Good try, fuzz face."
"That's sort of like the pot calling the . . . ."
"Oh, just shut up. Did McGregor tell you what sort of 'mission' he was talkingabout?"
"No. He didn't know the details. He said it's not his baby; some consortiumor other out East is behind it. But he gets two finder's fees if he convincesyou and me to sign up."
"I knew there had to be something in it for him. Well, let's see what hehas to say when he arrives. It can't be much longer."
As if on cue, they heard a voice: "Hewwo, evwybody!" A small, plump, completelybald man stepped into the field. He was wearing a blue pinstripe suit. To eitherside of him were several very large, very muscular-looking associates, alsoin blue pinstripe. These gentlemen all wore black, reflecting sunglasses.
Mr. McGregor ran up, his henchmen coming silently behind him. "Catgiwl! Coyote!How's twicks?" As he said this, he pumped Coyote's injured paw. Coyote wincedvery visibly, but just said: "Fine, fine; and how are you, sir?"
"Wight as wain!" He then looked at the rows and rows of dead bunnies. "Hmmm," hesaid, "let's suwvey the damage, shaww we?" Then he began to count, very slowly.When he had reached 102, he exclaimed: "Catgiwl! Youw best week yet. I'm pwoudof you!" He then gave her a big kiss on the cheek. Turning to an associate,he said: "Pay the wady." The associate counted out the bills and handed themover.
"Now enough chit-chit," said McGregor. "I have a pwoposaw fow both of you.It seems thewe's this consowtium in New Gotham. I checked 'em out: they'weall pwominent business and powitical weadas. They got a big fay pwobwem outthewe–one they haven't had much wuck handwing so faw. They need somefiwst cwass tawent, and I'd say that means you two. The pay sounds pwetty good.Intewested?"
Turning down a proposal from Mr. McGregor would mean, at the very least,that she never worked again in this part of Mythica. Catgirl said: "It soundsgreat, sir."
"Count me in too . . . sir," said Coyote.
"Gweat, gweat." McGregor snapped a finger, and an associate brought overa pair of contracts. When the two hunters had read the small print, they andMcGregor signed.
"Well then," said Coyote. "When do we set out?"
"Wight now," said McGregor. "You have to get to Miwwa's Cwossing by nightfaww."
"Miller's Crossing?" Coyote queried.
"That's what I said: Miwwa's Cwossing. When you awwive, you'ww meet a thiwdhunta. He awways wowks independentwy, so I get no finda's fee fow him. Dwat.Anyway, you meet him at Miwwa's Cwossing. He'ww have instwuctions for the nextweg of the jouwney. Good wuck."
At this point, McGregor's eye was caught by an especially fetching, black-hairedbunny girl. Her eyes appeared to be clenched shut; her buckteeth were bared.Clearly her face was still twisted by the painful pleasure of her last orgasm,though that had been a week ago. "Wovewy, just wovewy," said McGregor as hebent down and slipped a finger into the dead girl's snatch. There was no magicwarding spark this time. He licked his finger and said: "I wove wabbits; Iwove 'em dead, that is! Who's gonna wid the pwace of 'em with you gone, Catgiwl?You gotta weaw tawent for it."
A few more pleasantries, and Coyote and Catgirl were on their way. Not knowingwhat to expect, they traveled light: just two backpacks.
Catgirl wasn't seeking conversation, but Coyote managed to get one startedanyway.
"Curiouser and curiouser," he said.
"How so?"
"Who would dare to be an independent agent in McGregor's territory?"
"Someone McGregor can't hurt?"
"And who would that be?"
"How the fuck would I know?"
"And why," said Coyote, pausing for emphasis, "don't we get the whole itineraryright away?"
"That's easy. They're worried about leaks. The less each of us knows, theless we can let slip."
"So what are we up against that security is so important?"
"Not to mention that three hunters are needed. I'd say this isn't your standard'slam, bam, you're de-pantied, ma'am" operation."
"Very bothersome," said Coyote.
"Well, you did sign on," said Catgirl. "Best not to complain at this pointand just try to get the job done."
"A wise woman," said Coyote.
"Oh fuck you," said Catgirl.
They were making good time, and they reached Miller's Crossing well beforesundown. They looked around, but found nobody. "Well," said Coyote, "whilewe wait, how about an early supper?"
"If you're making it . . . . " said Catgirl.
"We could make it . . . together," Coyote suggested.
"Good try, fuzzball. Just get to work, would you?"
"You don't have to be . . . ." Coyote started to say, when suddenly therewas a crash like thunder, followed by a blinding white light. The two huntersthrew themselves on the ground.
"No need to kneel!" a loud voice boomed at them. "On the other hand, if youfeel it's appropriate . . . ."
Coyote and Catgirl looked up. Before them stood . . . what? A sort of wolfish,coyoteish, foxish fellow in black jeans and a black t-shirt ("Fucked up 24/7" wasstenciled on the front of the shirt). He had dark dreadlocks, tied back witha rag–or perhaps it was another t-shirt.
"W-who are you?" said Catgirl.
"You're in awe of me, aren't you?" he said. "Oh this is so exciting! I'mThief, one of a distinguished family of . . . ."
"Immortals," Coyote said. "Crikey, they've hooked us up with an immortal."
(To be continued)
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