Slaughterhouse One

A Changeling: the Dreaming story

Sequel to Midnight Ride

Enjoy!

*****

Christina pulled up the hood of her cloak as she turned down the side street, looking nervously to see if anyone had spotted her. She reached into her pocket and checked the small white card, glancing at the faded numbers on the buildings before her. Two more blocks to go.

The memory of the old Pooka's warning still whispered in her ears. *Wear nothing to indicate your house or Court. Wear nothing that would mark you as rich or poor. Wear nothing that is personal to you*. The faded ripped jeans and white leggings underneath was something she rarely wore anymore, and this was one of her few plain t-shirts. The hooded red cloak was new, purchased at a junk shop down the street. Her chimerical sword was under her bed back at school (the blazon of Fiona gleamed too brightly), and the silver bracers slumbered in the padded box she kept for them.

All of her senses were on the alert. She felt naked, exposed. This was -not- the place that a young woman should be caught walking alone, and she called upon the small bit of Chicanery she knew to blur her existence to others who may glance her way. *That's it...you can't see me, it's just a newspaper blowing by, keep moving.* She sidestepped a puddle of muck with a wrinkle of her nose and continued on her way.

She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't even be in the City, heading for the address on that little white card. She should be back at school, hanging out with her classmates and talking about where they wanted to go to college. She should be sleeping, her head pillowed on soft down and dreaming about her future. Instead, she stopped before a dark, dirty warehouse, and read the graffiti over the door.

The Slaughterhouse.

This was it.

Her four-legged tryst with Cimmerian, instead of banking the guilty fire inside her, had only stoked it further. Twice more she had paid midnight visits to the stables, stroking the big stallion to climax, her other hand rubbed at her own slick heat until they both had spent themselves, shivering and sweating in the straw and sawdust. Once she had even let him nose at her, snuffing and blowing at her pussy until she cried out in shameless pleasure. Still she burned, still she needed, wanted. Wanted that animal contact that was driven by nature, not any maudlin professions of love.

So she was here.

"Looking to walk on the wild side again, are we? Perhaps a bit more than a pix this time?" Gollump had leered with his lipless mouth, giving her a slow appraising glance. "It can be arranged." His grin had been disgusting. "You traded a saddle last time, how about a ride?"

She'd walked away from the meeting with the address for this place. She stared at the door, still feeling the grip of him where he'd clutched her breast hard enough to bruise, and wondered if it was worth it. This was her chance to turn back run run back to Brackenridge and bury herself in her cotton sheets and forget she ever thought about this.

Her body answered for her, a slow throb that shuddered through her from head to toe. She pulled the cord by the door, her mind already awhirl with what she would find within.

A slot in the door slid aside, and two suspicious eyes peered at her. "Invitation, please?" She handed him the paper with the directions on it, which also bore a small wax seal of a pawprint. She wouldn't get it back, Gollump had told her, but when she went in, she would receive a membership pin that would allow her entrance whenever she liked. She didn't kid herself this time and insist that this would be the only night she would come.

The door opened with a clank, and she heard muffled bass thumping as the man beckoned her in. She stepped over the threshold, feeling as if she'd crossed a primal sort of Rubicon. No going back now. A part of herself pushed forward gleefully, readying her for the evening ahead.

"Welcome." She turned at the voice to regard the man who'd beckoned her in, and started a little when she realized that he was a Pooka. Golden eyes gazed at her from a dark, swarthy face that held a lascivious lupine grin. "Nice cloak. Shall I call you Red Riding Hood?" He snatched her hood down before she could blink, and his eyes and grin both widened as her dark hair tumbled around her face and shoulders.

"Oh my! Beauty meets Beast, hm?" He chuckled as she blushed hotly. "Relax, Red. BigBad only kids with the newbies."

He looked her over with a more friendly, speculative mien, and finally she found her voice. "My name is--"

"Ah!" He held up a quieting hand. "The authorities would likely be more interested than me...perhaps you'd like to give your name to them?" He cocked his head to one side, dog-like, and again his smile softened. "The Slaughterhouse isn't a place where everybody knows your name, if you catch my drift. Makes things harder for the stalkers, you know?"

"The....oh!" Realization dawned with the brightest light. If this place were ever discovered, the clientele would easily find themselves ruined for their association with it. Her brows rose curiously. "Then...what do we do here?"

He winked. "Easy as pie, Red." He looked her over again. "What's your scene? Vixen, tigress, bitch, sex kitten, bunny, mare?" She saw his grin resume its leer as the heat rose in her face. "Aha. Mare...mare...."


He tilted his head the other way and pondered aloud as she stood in the vestibule. "Ginger....nope. Secretariat....ha." He tapped a finger to his lips, frowning, then his eyes lit up. He pointed to her, his gaze trapping her in its golden depths. "Flicka." He gave a decisive nod. "You like?"

"Flicka...." She tasted the name, remembering the spirited filly from her childhood reading. She remembered that wild night in the paddock, the stallion both urgent and gentle as his body covered hers... "I like it."

"Thought you might." He sketched a quick, teasing bow. "Okay, milady Flicka, stop me if I ramble." He ticked them off on his fingers. "No fighting, no non-consensual, and *no real names*." He mimicked a German accent. "Ve haf vays of enforcink these rules, so no funny business." He smiled. "Even if you see someone you know, discretion is the better part of not getting arrested."

She nodded. "All right....I can handle that."

He leveled a very serious look at her. "Are you sure? You can dress yourself up any way you like on the outside, but once you enter the Slaughterhouse you're stripped raw. No trappings, no side dishes. Everyone here knows why they're here, no pretenses or nice way of putting it." He folded his arms. "Last chance, Flicka. You can turn back, with just a little bit about an Oath of Secrecy, or you can come in and...indulge."

She paused a moment, the implications of what the Pooka had said spinning in her mind. She'd been so used to keeping these fantasies to herself that a chance to find others who were into the same thing sounded exhilarating. She'd even let Gollump use her to get this chance. Now, faced with a warehouse full of people *knowing* why she was there. Christina Misselthwaite, Knight of Brackenridge.....but nobody here would know Christina. They would only know Flicka, they would only see Flicka, would only fuck Flicka. Could she do it? Could she...she felt herself nod, tentatively at first, then more emphatically.

BigBad smiled. "Then enter, weary traveler, into the Garden of Delights." He gestured to the inner door, where the thumping bass pounded softly. "Seeing as how you're so experienced and all, I'd suggest you start with the Barnyard...work with what you know, right? Oh! And here..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver pin depicting a pawprint. "Wear it in good health and zipped lips."

She took the small pin, affixing it to the breast of her shirt. She suddenly felt very young and naive where confidence used to be. Not fear, *never* fear, but a sense of anticipation unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Like the first time she bedded someone, knowing that it would hurt at first, but also knowing that pleasure would follow. This was an arena she knew, but still had little experience, even more so with this particular...aspect. What would others think, if they knew? She realized with a start of surprise that in this particular instance, she just didn't care, and it set her ablaze. With a last look at the smiling BigBad, she pulled open the inner door and stepped through.


The bass pounded louder as she entered a long hallway. The doorway to her right had a sign over it that said, "The Barnyard". To her left was a set of stairs that said, "Up to The Wild Side, Down to The Cave". She hesitated briefly, considering either alternative. Deciding that she could try either of them when she returned, she opted for The Barnyard.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but was very surprised to see a rather normal looking bar with tables and chairs and a DJ in one corner. The decor was non-existent; the place was still a warehouse. BigBad's words rang in her ears, "The people know why they're here," and she suppressed a giggle for actually caring about the lack of decoration. The people, however....

She'd never seen such a large gathering of Pooka in one place, and all of them fit the motif. Dogs, Cats, Goats, Sheep, even a Rooster or two. A large, brawny young man brooded at the bar, the thick horns and nose ring suggesting he was a Bull. Two Pigs and a Goose chatted at one of tables.

There were other people there as well. Several Satyrs, their eyes dark with restrained passion, sipped drinks next to their potential conquests. She sighed in relief when she saw a few Sidhe, but the sigh turned into a gasp as one of them nodded to her, saluting with his good arm, the other too twisted to even grasp his drink. His grin was one of amused menace, and as she turned away she knew that she was very nearly in over her head.

She saw a Boggan tending bar. A Troll talked quietly with a handsome Rabbit Pooka, his fingers trailing up and down his arm. She felt a little shiver go through her; what was she getting into?

"Hello?"

She jumped at the nearby voice and whirled, already cursing herself for her overreaction. She found herself staring at the chest of a very tall man, and as she looked up her breath caught.

His hair was a long golden mane, his eyes a clear blue, grinning down from a handsome, square face. Two equine ears pricked forward with interest as he offered his hand. "First time here?" The deep voice seemed out of place with his youthful demeanor.

She blushed a bit at the gentle question. "Does it show?"

His grin was sympathetic. "Not at all...I just have an eye for these things. What's your name?"


*What's your scene*? BigBad had asked when he had picked her name. Asking her name here was asking the same question. She nearly blurted out her own name, but caught herself in time. "Flicka." She blushed hotter as his eyebrows rose in understanding. "And you?"

He lowered his gaze, and it looked as if he blushed, but covered it by pressing his lips to her hand. "Ed."

*Ed*? The simple name puzzled her for only a second before she burst into crazy giggles. He chuckled with her, seeming to know that she wasn't laughing at him, just laughing out her nerves. "I...I guess Trigger was taken?"

His chuckle turned wry. "Yeah, that BigBad's a real trip." He smiled again, then motioned towards an empty table. "You want to sit down?" As he turned, she saw a sweep of flaxen tail, flagged at his waist and trailing to his ankles. "I'm sure you're anxious to get right down to business, but a drink before sometimes helps people to get ready."

"Sure..." She accepted the invitation eagerly. She knew why she was here, but it would take a bit before she was ready to *really* dive in. Ed signaled to the waitress, a petite little Asian Hen with a shaggy crown of hair/feathers. "Couple of brews to start us off, Suki."

Suki winked at him. "Of course, of course, Eddie. Comin' right up." Her thick New York accent surprised Christina, and the waitress gave her an encouraging smile as she turned to go. "Take care of this one, Eddie. You know how many *nice* girls we get in places like these."

"I hear ya, girl," he called after her, then echoed the smile at Christina. "She's just jealous."

"Jealous?" She shook her head, realizing the Kith that reigned here. "Sorry, I just have to get...used to all this."

Another gentle smile; why were they being so nice to her? "And it'll take you no time, trust me." Suki returned with the drinks, and Christina took a long sip. Ed leaned forward, his nearness making her see only him, and not the rest of the bar. "So when was your first walk?"

She didn't need to ask him what he meant. *Walk on the wild side..* Gollump's voice hissed the eerie chorus in her ear, and she shut out the feel of his sticky tongue as she spoke. "About three months ago....I've always seemed to feel, well, more for animals...horses in particular." She laughed lightly. "Sir Brian used to tease me that if I rode long enough, I'd come right in the saddle." She blinked as she heard what she was saying and looked up at Ed, wide-eyed.


"It's all right. Only the stuff in the bedroom is broadcast for everyone." His smile slowed the pounding of her heart; he understood the need. If he didn't, he wouldn't be here. "What happened?"

And she told him, the words coming before she knew what she was going to say. How bedding Sir Brian or John just didn't have that spark. She'd even tried getting intimate with a few of her female classmates; she grimaced as she recounted those disasters. How she began spending more time in the stables with Cimmerian, how she came to know that he would respond to her time of month with growing affection and obvious physical desire. How the sight of his erection filled her with a shivering that she'd never felt when looking at her fellow Kithain lovers.

It was around the second beer that she talked about how she got the courage to arouse him herself, to stroke the stallion until his cock slid from its sheath, growing rigid in her hands. How they both had trembled as he had come in thick, sticky spurts that coated her hands and jeans. She felt her own thighs dampen as she talked, and she didn't jump when Ed took her hand

At the third beer, she told him what she had told no one else, that she'd gotten the nerve up to try and take him in her mouth. At the touch of her lips, however, Cimmerian had lunged forward, sending her to the straw choking and gasping, clutching at her throat. She hadn't been able to swallow without pain for a week. Her classmates had believed her story of strep throat, but there were a few who wondered when she never complained of fever.

Ed listened through it all, his thumb softly stroking her palm. The flush as she told the story wasn't just from embarrassment, and when she recounted the Elderform pix and the midnight tryst with the stallion, she looked up and saw that he was breathing just a little harsher. He kept shifting in his seat every few minutes as she told him how Cimmerian had covered her in the moonlight. By the time she had finished the third beer she had forgotten where she was, only that the look she saw in his eyes must match the one in her own.

He rose from his chair, pulling her up gently with him. "I think we've had enough to drink, don't you?" She nodded wordlessly, and let him lead her back to a door that she hadn't seen before. This was really it...

The door opened into another hallway, this one with doors running along the wall. There were lights above the doors, some on, some off, and by the time she realized what that meant he'd led her to one of the unlit doors and stepped inside with her. The door had barely closed before his lips descendand and she met him halfway, her body already on fire with lust.

She plunged her hands into his thick hair as their tongues dueled, and he pressed her shoulders against the wall as his hands slid up and down her back. When they broke the kiss, they were both panting. "God..."

Despite the thickening passion, Ed chuckled. "You'd better hope he isn't watching, Flicka." He nuzzled at her neck, tugging her t-shirt free from her jeans. "How do you want to do this?"

She barely heard him through the rush of arousal at his touch, but she laughed all the same. "There's more than one way?" Her hands slid under his shirt, skimming up his warm chest. She was so *hot...*

His big hands captured first one, then the other wrist, holding her still for a moment. "Well, do you want it on two legs or four?"

She froze, eyes widening at the question, and he smiled at her. "You're the one with the reins, Flicka. Which'll it be?"

God, this was it. How had she come this far so quickly? Her bed back at Brackenridge seemed light years away. Was she ready to accept this part of her, to turn it loose from the harness in which she'd kept it? Her body decided for her as she leaned in to nip gently at his shoulder. "Let's just work with what we know for now, okay?" Start slow for now. The rest could wait until her passion had cooled...or burned again.

He released her wrists and kissed her again, turning her with him until he pressed her down onto the bed. His hand stroked down her face as he leaned on his elbows, his eyes a-twinkle with lusty humor. "Oh, and if you think you're missing out on something..." He shifted so his hips were atop hers, and she gasped as she felt his erection press against her, larger than she'd ever felt, save for her own stallion. He gripped her shoulders gently, cradling her beneath his large frame, and smiled down at her. "I don't think you'll be disappointed." His laugh was so like a nicker; her jeans were soaked. She reached up and pulled his mouth to hers again, feeling his hair tickle her cheeks as her tongue circled his. She sucked his lip between her teeth and arched against him. Demanding with her body. She wanted him to cover her, as Cimmerian had that secret night.

His moan rumbled through her. His hips answered her thrusts, his hand slipping under her shirt to squeeze one breast. The feel of his rough thumb against her nipple sent sparkles through her mind, her breath hissing through her teeth. She reached down and yanked her shirt up, ready to pull it over her head and off--

His hands stopped her at the moment her face was covered, holding her blind as a flick of his fingers opened her bra, baring her to him. Silence as she waited, her heart racing. What was he doing?

His hair pooled on her chest and he lipped and nipped at her nipples, blowing puffs of air onto her moistened skin. She pressed closer to his seeking mouth with a gasp, realization dawning; she couldn't see him, but could picture him either as the handsome man she knew was above her, or a golden stallion, nibbling and blowing as he pleasured her.

She came as his teeth grazed her skin, her cries echoing on the bare walls of the bedroom.

He released her when her shudders slowed and stood lazily, his grin full of mischief and promise. He stripped off his shirt to reveal golden skin, well-muscled chest, hard abs. "The advantages of a good diet and four legs," he said, "helps me keep in shape, you think?"

She stretched just as lazily, knowing her smile was one of a cream-sated cat. "Mmm...definitely a stud." She would have been shocked at her words, if it had been her saying them, but tonight she was Flicka. The freedom of her new identity gave her the courage she always had, but had never really tapped due to the demands of etiquette and protocol. She eyed the substantial bulge in his jeans hungrily, actually began to salivate at the thought of touching him, feeling him...then he was beside her on the bed, jeans unbuttoned, the head of his erection peeking redly from his waistband, already glistening with anticipation as he chuckled.

"Ain't it always the way...one look at it, and they never look at my face again." He rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him. He kissed her slowly, taking his time now that her passion smoldered instead of raged, exploring and teasing with his tongue and teeth. She responded in kind, enjoying the taste of him, beer and secrets and forbidden pleasure. She couldn't help but reach down, and he smiled against her mouth as he let her, rolling from hip to hip as she eased his pants down and stared.

She rolled onto her side for a better angle, and of their own volition her hands stroked the hard length of him. She smiled at the "Nnnnng," she heard at her gentle touch, then his gasp as she squeezed. He was uncut, though his flesh strained from his mortal sheath all the same. She cupped his heavy balls in her hand, squeezing and rolling as he moaned at her touch. She licked her lips eagerly, and leaned forward to do to him what she couldn't do to her other stallion.

He stopped her with gentle hands. "Hold on...c'mere." He shifted onto his side as well, and tugged at the waistband of her jeans until she lay facing his feet. "Tit for tat, but since I already did your tits..." She rolled her eyes at the pun, then shivered as, with a flick of his thick fingers, he unbuttoned her jeans and unzipped the fly. She chuckled at his murmur of approval when found that her jeans were all that separated herself from him, and as his breath puffed against her skin and his hands gently prized her thighs apart, she took him in her mouth.

He tasted of salt and heat and slick desire, and she flicked her tongue against the broad head of his cock before taking it fully between her lips. He was hard and silky soft all at once, and his hips twitched ever so slightly, thrusting towards her hungry mouth. She smiled around his hardness, remembering the moans of her previous lovers at the skill of her lips and tongue, and she slid her mouth down the shaft of him, wanting to hear them now, from her stallion.

His hum of pleasure vibrated against her mound, startling an "mmph!" from her just before his tongue snaked between her slick nether lips and touched against her clit, sending a jolt of sensation through her that jerked her body towards him. His chuckle was a pleasant harmony to her moans as his tongue alternately stroked across her lips and jabbed at her center, one strong arm curled around her hips and holding her still against him. She returned his attentions kind for kind, feasting on his cock, licking and sucking her way down the shaft until he bumped the back of her throat. She pressed her face into the thatch of hair at the base of him, smelling the thick musk that was pure male desire. Learning his scent so she would know him in the dark. In a roomful of men.

She shuddered into orgasm again at the very thought of that, whimpering into his balls as the spasms rocked her. His tongue stroked her gently as her hips jerked, easing her back down to coherence before he moved away, shifting so they once again lay face to face. She nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling liquid and warm against his hardness. "Mmm..." she purred in his silky ear. "That was amazing...!"

"Mmm." he murmured in agreement, his nose brushed along her cheek. "Think you're ready to mount up, Flicka?" He lipped at her ear, the words and his touch sending another warm spark darting into her. "Or do you want me in the saddle this time?"

This time...she knew that she would most certainly be back here again, but to hear it affirmed with such brazen surety set her nerve endings tingling again, and from tingling to singing when she focused on her present situation. "Cover me...show me how it feels to be mounted and ridden hard...!" Oh yes, she would be back, where Flicka could shout her desires while Christina had to whisper, where Flicka could grasp and clutch and sweat and -fuck- while Christina lay passive, was caressed and seduced. She followed his touch and rolled over and up onto her elbows and knees. He braced himself above her, his cock poised at her entrance. She felt the tickle of his mane of hair on her shoulders and his flaxen tail on thighs that trembled in anticipation. "Yes...oh, please yes...!"

His thighs tensed, and he drove forward, entering her with a thick, hard rush that made her gasp in surprise and a jolt of delicious pain at being completely filled. Mounted.

Then he started to thrust, one hand coming up under her to squeeze her breast, tease her nipple, and she thrust her hips back into him, meeting his jabbing cock halfway as she couldn't do when Cimmerian covered her that forbidden night. She whimpered in pain and pleasure, enjoying both as he banged into her again and again, his grunts so like a rutting stallion that she could close her eyes and picture it, his golden hide glossy, hindquarters bunching as he shoved forward into her willing flesh.

His hand threaded into her hair, she cried out as he yanked her head back, and her passion climbed as she could see him, his fist curled in her long black hair as if holding reins, riding her hard. His thrusts quickened, and she reveled in the pain/pleasure as he pistoned in and out of her. Her cries grew more frantic and wild as she felt her body gather itself a -third- time. "Oh...oh yes...oh--!"

Her voice was cut off as he punched into her as deep as he could go, and her fingers curled spasmodically in the sheets as his cock pulsed hard, shooting into her with a force that sent her catapulting over the edge. Her wails mingled with his groans in a primal chorus as the came together in savage, carnal bliss.

They sank to the bed as one, panting, sweating. He eased out of her, the feel of it sending another shiver of sensation jittering through her. She curled on his chest with her nose in the hollow of his throat. "Sweet Dana, that was amazing." Her thighs were slick with his seed; she loved it.

One hand came up to stroke her hair, and she felt his chuckle against her cheek. "So long as you're not saddle sore." His thumb stroked down her face. "Liked that, then?"

She laughed, both at the joke and the question. "Liked it? I will -never- forget tonight, or you." She tightened her arms around him a moment, toes curling with satisfaction. "Incredible." She looked up at him, and his blue eyes twinkled with sated amusement.

"Just glad you didn't fall off." He slid his fingers into her hair. "Maybe next time we'll tack you up with a proper bridle?" His sleepy grin widened. "Make you a pretty pony girl?"

The image sprang to her mind. Dressed out in silver and black leather, a black plume, waving above her head, her teeth clenched around the steel bit as her stallion paraded her around...her body clenched once in desire. Oh yes, next time would definitely be interesting.