Monthly Archives: April 2013
“How many times do I have to tell you, Zaid, do not go into the cages with the animals. It’s a risk we cannot take. Do it again and you’re fired.” Zeke paces in front of the Zak’s cage. The animal is magnificent, a large white Siberian Tiger. The largest Tiger on record. He came in two months ago and Zaid, the cat’s keeper, was part of the deal. He’s never heard of such a thing but Zak won’t let any other keeper near him. Even now, the large cat paces with him, ears flat, and a low menacing rumble emits from the cat.
“I’d get away from him if I were you.” Ziad’s cocky arrogance pushes Zeke’s anger.
“Do not talk to me that-”
The bars groan and Zeke jumps as Zak’s full weight of over half a ton slams against the bars. A roar so loud rings the air making Zeke’s ears hurt.
“Easy boy.” Zaid walks right up to the cat making hush noises. Zak begins to purr and rub his ten and half foot body against the bars. The keeper scratches the large cat and a deep rumbling purr almost vibrates the air. “The mean man didn’t mean it.” Zak growls at Zeke but continues to rub against the enclosure seeking Zaid’s touch.
The relationship these two have baffles Zeke. He was told the original zoo that bred Zak couldn’t contain the cat as he matured. They shipped the Siberian to a more secure facility and there Zak did a lot of damage. Zak was volatile and tried to attack multiple keepers. Zak was scheduled to be destroyed but then Zaid came along. The cat calmed almost instantly and Zaid was charged with Zak’s care.
Zak has fathered multiple litters but after every mating he’s shunned the female. The previous zoo tried introducing a previously bred female and Zak killed her. Only Zaid is a constant in Zak’s life.
“Come on, Zak. Go outside. Let mister grumpy pants cool his jets.” Zaid unlocks the first security door, steps inside, relocks the door and repeats the process with the second. Zak half rears and spreads his paws, playing. “Come on, big boy, come on.” Zaid hurries out the release hatch to the outside enclosure. Zak follows and lets out a playful roar. The outside cheers of the public grate Zeke’s nerves. Encouraging such behavior is outrageous.
It’s after dinner time and Zeke is still at the zoo. Zaid and Zak never came back inside, least not while Zeke was there. He had actual work to do. A call from his neighborhood about his dog is what finally prods him to move. His neighbor is kind enough to look after his dog when he stays late. It’s not actually his dog. His brother dumped the dog on him when the asshole decided to backpack across Europe. That was five years ago.
Heading out of his office, Zeke hits the lights and heads for the cats to check on them one last time before he leaves. Something catches Zeke’s attention making him pause. That sound? What it is? It sounds like moaning.
Moving towards Zak’s cage, the noise becomes louder to Zeke. A long low moan followed by a grunt is definitely two different people. The only other person who’d be here this late is Zaid but the man wouldn’t dare bring a lover in here, right?
Peeking around the corner, Zeke’s eyes bulge. Zaid lay on a pile of straw in Zak’s cage with a white haired man ramming him. The two obviously don’t notice Zeke, he wouldn’t notice him either if he were fucking.
Zeke’s cock takes notice. He digs the heel of his hand over his erection to stifle it but it doesn’t work. The white haired man’s gaze snaps to Zeke. A long hiss escapes the man’s mouth and fangs gleam in the lighting.
“Aw!” Zeke’s air dwindles quickly. The white haired man stood in front of him, a hand wrapped around his neck like a vice, his back pressed to the wall.
“Zak! Let him go.”
Zaid runs over and smoothes his hands over the man making hush noises. The man purrs and his grip on Zeke’s neck loosens. It’s only now Zeke sees Zaid’s hand wrapped around the man’s cock, pumping. Did Zaid say Zak?
“Easy tiger,” Zaid nibbles the man’s earlobe, “let him go, Zak. He’s not going to hurt us.”
“He wants to take you from me.” Zak’s voice holds a raspy masculine edge.
“Mmmm,” Zaid molds himself to Zak’s back and his movement tells Zeke Zaid is humping against Zak, “let’s mate him.”
“What?” This time it’s Zeke who speaks up. Zaid wants to do what to him?
Zak seems to mirror Zeke’s confusion because he asks the same thing.
“Why not?” Zaid’s pretty eyes look Zeke over. “He’s not bad looking and we both have been crushing on him since we got here.”
Zak smiles and his grip over Zeke’s neck turns gentle, almost intimate. A low rumbling growl vibrates Zak’s chest and the man leans forward and takes Zeke’s mouth in a kiss. Zeke would be lying if he said he didn’t want the kiss or either of them. However; common sense kicks in. The bitch.
“Wait.” Zeke pulls away and it’s now he realizes just how pretty Zak’s gold honey eyes are. “Where’s the cat?”
“I am the cat.” Zak’s pupils turn oblong like a cat’s and a hiss with fangs bared tells Zeke not to argue. “You will be ours.”
Zak moves in and Zeke is helpless against him. Another set of hands makes quick work of his pants, a mouth taking him, a finger invading his ass stretching him feels good.
These two are going to have their way with him, use him, mate him, whether he wants it or not. It’s a good thing he wants it. Wants them.
“If we were any more opposite it’d be sitcom worthy.”
Yale smiles and takes a sip of his hot tea. His boyfriend, York, sat across from him in what he’s heard York describe as “scene” and a can of Coke. “It still baffles me sometimes.”
“You in your business suites and me in my individuality.”
Yale’s aforementioned suite looks good on him and he knows it. It’s Gucci for crying out loud. Who doesn’t look good in Gucci? “Don’t hate on my suites. You like them.”
York smiles, “Never said I didn’t.” York’s green eyes move over Yale and he knows what York wants.
“We don’t have time for that this morning.”
His boyfriend sighs and dramatically lays on the table. “But a man can dream!” York wails and hides his face in his arms in mock dramatics.
Yale chuckles and takes another sip of hot tea. “Do you still have that concert next weekend?”
“YES!” York pops up practically bouncing in his seat. “It’s down at the marina. Think you can come?”
In truth, Yale has meetings all weekend but, “For you, anything.”
York’s smile is well worth any hell he’ll get at work for canceling. “You’ll come? Really?”
A grunt escapes Yale as he shifts in the too comfy chair. “I may not get your creativity or anything but you know I’ll support you in whatever you want to do.”
“You know it’s because of you,” York’s voice lowers, it holds something deeper, more meaningful than before, “I even have this chance.”
“I didn’t do anything.” He waves York off without a second thought.
York stands and walks over to Yale, he stops and drops to his knees, his hands on Yale’s thighs cause his pants to become too tight. “You supported both of us when I up and quit job with no warning ever.” Yale rests his cheek against Yale’s inner thigh, the bastard. “Encouraged me to pursue my music and here we are. The guys and I are opening for Emotio in five days.”
Yale ponders their timing. “Just how grateful are you?”
York smiles and makes quick work of Yale’s entrapping pants. His full hard cock springs free, smacking York on the cheek. “Pretty grateful.”
“Damn.” York’s lips over his cock send sparks of pleasure down Yale’s spine. York knows exactly what he likes, deep throat and twist, then pay special brief attention to his head with that tongue ring before going back down.
Soon Yale is fucking York’s mouth, his tea forgotten on the table. His balls tighten and he knows it’s soon. Yale stays quiet as he cock unloads over York’s pierced tongue.
Yale uses his grip in York’s hair to yank the other man up, demanding a come swapping kiss. York moans with compliance. “Next time,” York nips Yale’s lower lip, “mister suite man will give me the blowjob.”
“That can be arranged.”
The mischief in York’s green eyes cannot be ignored. “We’re going to be late.”
“Who gives a shit. Blowjobs and couple bonding time are much more important.”
York pulls away to sit back in his chair, his pant fly already lying open, cock in hand. Waiting. Yale stifles a chuckle and crawls over to his boyfriend. Little does York know he plans on proposing tonight. “Happy Anniversary.”
Green eyes sparkle and a firm hand over Yale’s cheek to the back of his hand tells Yale what the other wants. “Happy Anniversary to you too. Now shut the hell up and suck me. I’m dying.”
Yale grins and takes all of York in my swift action. “Bitch.”
He inwardly grins as he gives his boyfriend everything he wants and hopefully tonight, York will make him the happiest man in the world.
This is something I pulled out of thin air at 3:45am. I literally woke up and had to type it. Used the handy note feature on my phone. The tid-bit below is from my WWII historical work in progress loosely titled Überleben (which translates to “survive” from German). You can get a real feel for the book by this short piece. Do enjoy.
Everyone’s story is different.
Despite the profound differences, everyone’s story holds a kernel of eerie similarity. We all have unique trying tails of abuse, neglect, heart ache, separation, and pain but they all share the same origin.
Everyone’s story starts six years ago. Some’s stories have ended too soon. Their pages ripped away by circumstances of their birth. Others stories ended by their own hand. Feelings of hopelessness and despair weighed them down till their hearts strained under the pressure, stuttering to a halt. Some ripped open their veins, spilling who they are for everyone to see.
What’s the most trying is no one cares. Not anymore. Each keep to themselves for fear of caring too much only to be let down like so many times before. We cannot afford to care. Not anymore.
To care is to die.