This is a true stand-alone story that occurs sometime after "Freak Nation." -- author's note
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It was the sound of drums that drew her there -- to an abandoned warehouse deep within the walls of the transgenic's toxic home, Terminal City. She'd spent the past 48 hours by herself, locked inside a decaying apartment, denying who she was ... what she was ... what she needed ... Staying as far away from him as she could get. Soon it would be over. Soon she'd be free from the raging hormones that turned her body into a furnace and made her crave the feel of a man ... any man ... between her legs.
But the drums were hypnotic. Listening to them as she lay sweating on the sheets of her makeshift bed were driving her mad. What were they doing? Was it a party of some kind? Why didn't anyone come tell her what was going on? Because no one knows where you've been hiding these past two days -- just like you wanted it.
She was going insane.
Ignoring common sense, she unlocked the door, and let herself into the night. Prowling like the cat she partly was, she crept through the streets, irresistably drawn by the drums and voices. Up ahead she could see flickering firelight, orange flames casting shadows on the walls of a warehouse, its caved in roof leaving the interior open to the brilliant full moon and sparkling white stars. A bead of sweat formed on her upper lip, and the tip of her tongue darted out, tasting her own desire as her nostrils flared. The odor up ahead was unmistakable -- the heady aroma of testosterone.
At last she stood in a high arched doorway -- and the sight she beheld made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Transgenics of all kinds were dancing wildly around a gigantic bonfire that had been built in the middle of the cavernous remains of the warehouse. Dog women, cat women, lizard women, X1's, X2's, X3's and 4's, females of all body types -- some mostly human, some mostly not, and some halfway in between -- were leaping and cavorting to the rhythmn of drums being beaten by nomilies. Nomilies -- the genetic mistakes who were only allowed to watch the others breed, her subconscious whispered.
But on the sidelines were the ones she sought -- the males. Beautiful X5's, plain looking lower X's, even scaled and furred transhumans watched with rapt fascination and lust as their females cavorted around the fire, the hunger in those masculine eyes making it clear what was going to happen tonight.
She knew she had to leave. She shouldn't be here. These creatures weren't human like her. They were part animal ... giving in to their feral natures ... their sexuality driven by instinct rather than reason. I'm not like them.
But her feet remained rooted to the floor as she stared, mesmerized by the primitive mating ritual.
There was an undercurrent of music to the beat now, a vague sound of flutes and harmonics. Athough she couldn't spot the musicians who were hidden in the dark recesses beyond the firelight, the effect of their melodies was startling.
With a primitive scream, one of the dancing transhumans, a catwomen, ripped off her bodice revealing darkly furred naked breasts. Immediately, a roar of possessive lust split the night, and a male of her kind leaped into the circle of glowing light. One swift move, and his shirt was torn apart, exposing a bare heaving torso, but before her fanged mouth could meet his in an unspeakably raw kiss, another cat man flung himself at the couple, raking the tom brutally with his claws, drawing blood.
The fight that ensued was surreal, as if the combatants were timing their kicks and blows to the beat of the drums. And when it was over, the first male stood triumphant, his rival lying in a bloody stunned heap at his feet.
The glow of pride in the female's eyes should have sickened her -- but it didn't.
A female X5 dancing and weaving on the edge of the circle reached out to her with both arms extended. Her mind drowned by raging hormones, she accepted the invitation ... allowed herself to be drawn into the heat of the flames and bodies ... the melee of dancers. And then she was whirling and spinning, her bare feet seeming to not touch the ground, her long dark hair flying as she lost herself to the drum beat and the chants.
She was hot ... unbearably hot. Tugging her t-shirt up, she stripped the garment away leaving her upper body clad only in a lacy black bra. She knew this was wrong, that he would be ashamed of her, but it felt so natural, as if a deep part of her psyche had finally been set free. Throwing her head back, her mane of hair whipping like a dark curtain around her, she laughed out loud, her brown eyes sparkling, reflecting the yellow of the flames, her swollen red lips parted with an ectasy that arose from the depths of her loins.
The catwoman who'd just been fought over was totally naked now. As a voyeur, she watched, aroused beyond belief as the female's chosen mate stripped off tattered jeans and revealed his long hard desire. Then, right there in front of everyone, the couple dropped to the warehouse floor and unashamedly began to copulate.
The sight was more than she could bear. Her panties wet, her face flushed, her eyes wild, she spun around and scanned the crowd looking for--
An X5 male, a combat model, tall with intense blue eyes and curly black hair furring both his head and his broad shirtless chest, stepped into the circle and grabbed her arm in a crushing grip. She didn't struggle, didn't try to pull away. Instead, she licked her lips in anticipation, then reached back and unhooked the clasp of her bra, letting the garment fell to the ground and freeing hard nippled breasts to bob and sway seductively to the beat of the drums.
She didn't know his name ... his designation ... who he was. But I don't care. Not tonight.
His hot lips were devouring her mouth, his hands groping her ass. But then suddenly the X5 was torn from her arms. She opened her eyes just in time to see him flying through the air to land in the crowd on the edge of the circle. She smiled then, her lips curving lasciviously, as she turned to face her new suitor -- someone she'd been ... expecting.
However, the other male wasn't going to accept defeat graciously. With a roar of rage, he leaped on top of the lighter built X5 who'd dared to challenge his right to the female. The fight was brief but brutal. Ordinarily, a stealth designed X5 model wouldn't be able to beat a combat series at hand-to-hand. But tonight was different. Tonight there was more than mere life at stake. Tonight the battle was about the right to procreate ... to mate ... to be immortal. And when the fight was finished, it was the smaller, lither male who stood barefoot, barechested, and triumphant, a look of intense animal pride in his brilliant, possessive, hazel-green eyes.
My mate, a little voice whispered inside her pounding head.
She ripped off the rest of her clothes, tugged down his jeans, and kissed him everywhere -- his mouth, his throat, his chest, his cock, burying her face in the moist curls that held his musky, cattish scent.
Green-gold eyes glowing with uncontrollable lust, his hard-on throbbing, he lowered her to the floor.
It was the most natural thing in the world to spread her legs wide and arch her back as he mounted, her hands cupping his beautiful muscular ass, pulling him deep inside her clenching wetness while everyone watched and cheered.
And then, grunting softly, his head reared back, eyes closed in ecstacy and panting with every thrust, X5-494 did what he he'd been born to do -- he filled his breeding partner with his seed.
