Excerpt for Patreon 04-2017 - Urban Arcana - Fresh Leather by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Sophia is a Fox-girl. A long, slightly feral muzzle is off-put by an adorable and feminine face, with warm green eyes. Rusty orange-red fur coats her body, with the exception of black tips on the end of long, pointy ears that jut from raven-black curls. She stands at roughly five and a half feet tall, with bouncy DD breasts barely restrained by a pale-pink blouse. A dark black mini-skirt hangs above digitigrade legs, and a massive, sweeping bushy tail flows back and forth.


At this point in time she stands in front of a club… it is very clearly a fetish club.


It’s not just the name of the place; Fresh Leather. Nor is it the fact that there’s a queue of excited people of all genders, sexualities, and clothing from the erotic to the outrageous. It’s the smell… like oil and lust, of bodies and excitement and alcohol.


It is not the sort of club that would usually appeal to her, but a friend asked (very emphatically) for her to come and see their first show. What that show was? Sophia hadn’t been told, although there were plenty of promises of excitement and free drinks. The free drinks part of her friend’s pitch was probably the most convincing part.


From the outside, Fresh Leather is a building of stone, and titanic two-way mirrors adorn the entrance artistically. It’s somewhat intimidating, knowing that anyone within can see out, but passersby get no glimpse into the depravity within…


Thinking about it? There would probably be some number of complaints. The only person dressed normally at the building’s entrance is a massive slab of man in a suit, constantly checking a pad as various people try to get in. With a sigh, Sophia makes for the back of the line, before a familiar, cheerful voice calls out. “Soph!”


The Fox-girl whirls about in surprise, before seeing that very same sensible bouncer struggling to keep a straight face. Clambering across his shoulders is a cute lady—she’s all pale flesh, long legs, and sweeping hips. She would also appear to be wearing nothing but a towel, earning a few wolf-whistles from those queued up. She is Sophia’s oldest friend, and current roommate Sara. She shouts again, hips wiggling cheerfully as she is lowered carefully to the ground by the bouncer. If she had a tail it would be wagging furiously. “C’mon in!”


There’s a few groans and mutters from the youths queued up, and Sophia gingerly skips in, trying to avoid the odd withering glare. One particularly clear voice mutters something along the lines of “It’s always the hot ones”... flattering, but not exactly pleasant at the same time. Thankfully, the handsome bouncer glares at miss loud-mouth, before waving Sophia in.


It’s almost like walking into a wall of conversation. Although the night outside was well lit, indoors it’s surprisingly bright. Originally, Sophia had expected the place to be dark and dim, with red lighting piercing through murky steam-veiled air. Instead, tasteful light of blue and white makes the club’s interior look spacious and bright. If not for how everybody is dressed, and the number of stages set up, it would look more like a pleasant restaurant.


But those stages…


Beautiful men and women of all races both humanoid and fantastic are strapped up in leather and latex, posing and dancing. The Fox-girl doesn’t get a chance to take in the sights properly, thanks to Sara latched onto an arm, hauling her through the room. A towering man with goat-like legs and a horse-cock reaching past a leather pouch to swing by his knees holds them up for a moment.


“Sara! Who’s yer cute friend?” he asks, sloshing around a half-empty drink. As opposed to look disgusted, the Elfin girl gives a musical little giggle, patting him on a bare chest until one of his pierced nipples jingle. Still, she doesn’t answer, instead she winks and continues to guide Sophia through the club. Countless sights of erotically posed men and women continue to burn themselves into the overwhelmed woman’s eyes, but eventually they reach an empty stage.


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