The Leopard's Spots

An erotic tale of eternal yearning and hunger.

The Leopard's Spots

This story is based on some African superstitions, some of which traveled with them to the new world.

This wonderful creature has existed for millennia. So long, in fact, she cannot remember her beginning.

One vivid memory she clings to was the rough, rocky voyage from Africa to America. The terrible deaths of the captain and first officer, the blood they forced her to clean after the fatalities of the two highest ranking sailors on the ship. How easily she slipped from the chains intended to bind her. The other Africans and how their fear, thick and sweet, filled the air. The slaves reeked of terror, more of a horror of her than their slavery.

This dread of the slaves engendered a spirit of mirth in her. They had no reason to fear her on their trek to America. For the voyage, she fed on the whites, so two more Englander sailors died, torn limb from limb in the dark of night without uttering a word, a screech, or a whimper. The Limey seafarers' terrors, immeasurable, papabile, sweetened their soul's flavor.

The sailors reported seeing a black leopard, with spots of a darker shade, roaming free on the Guineamen cargo vessel when the ship made port. Finding no cat, the officials thought the sailors mad.

Of course, Shenzi never spotted the leopard. How could she?

While the whites didn't know what had happened on the voyage, the Nigeran slaves realized what she was, a kubadilisha umbo, a shapeshifter. A powerful witch who'd transcended to something more than human or mortal.

More centuries passed.

This Nubian goddess cherished her former lovers, remembering them often through the centuries. The sweet lovemaking, the long, languorous kisses as passion built, the frantic, rough fucking as each participant neared the brink. The taking of everything a lover might possibly give to her. Every last drop of semen, every sigh, and moan, all the way until they gave her their last breath, to her, in lovemaking.

In early October 1988, Shenzi roamed through the streets of the southern town. After twenty-five years in this community, she grew anxious and hungered for more. The night's air chilled after sunset, and she strutted down one street after another avenue. The need took root, and Shenzi prowled for the perfect lover. Hiding in a tree near a house far from the road, she saw him.

A stout, hard-bodied, ruggedly handsome white man, a tasty morsel indeed.

Driving down the wooded road, moving into town, Eric Banner kept catching sight of something hulking and cat-like, moving from one tree to another. This cat creature seemed to follow him. Stalking the unnerved driver, leaping from the branches on one side of the highway to those on the other.

Pulling into the bar's graveled parking lot, he thought the cat thing hid in the tall grass of the field next to the lot.

"I ain't scared of you," he shouted into the darkness.

Making his way into the bar, Eric planted his ass on his favorite stool. Gazing around at the other patrons, nodding to friends, and saying hello to a few new women. And so Eric began his Saturday night ritual. Expecting to leave before inebriation prevented his safe driving.

He would mark this as a successful Saturday night if he shared a drink and some conversation with or danced with one lovely woman. Not being greedy, he'd hope for someone who'd look beyond his station in life, the car he drove, or his under-education, and they treated him friendly.

****

From Eric Banner's Private Journal

Sunday, October 2nd, 1988, 9:00 AM

When I think about this, the entire event seems like a dream in the bright light of day. If I can be honest, especially with myself, this kind of thing never happened to me. One-night stands aren't something I want. No woman seeks my companionship in a darkened bar and comes to my home to make love to me.

In fact, had she not just said, "See you soon," when she left shortly after the dawn this morning, I might have believed the night's adventure nothing more than my imagination.

The thing started last night; I went to Charly's Place following my usual routine. Making my way to my stool, well, the place at the bar where I like to sit, I ordered my first beer.

"Jumping tonight," the bartender said. "And so far, none of the darker crowd has shown up."

"Listen, Charly, I understand you own the joint, but black people's money spends."

"I take their money. Don't mean I got to like them," Charley said and mopped up an area of the bar, moving away from me, muttering racist crap.

Glancing toward the door, I spotted her when she sashayed into the bar, moving with the grace of a dancer. Might be a cat, yeah, like the one I'd seen outside. An African cat, which my mind settled on the notion, had been a leopard. This woman moved so gracefully, like a leopard stalking its prey.

"Goddamnit," Charley said. "First coon of the night. Gutsy, nigger bitch, with no bucks in the place to protect her."

"Hey man, don't be so fucking racist," I snapped at him. Didn't even turn my head his way.

"Pussy," Charley moved back to serve someone else.

After I called Charley a racist, and before he responded, she turned in my direction.

The woman's face held a dignified appearance. Her high arched eyebrows set above almond eyes, the pupils of which were golden. Framing her bewitching face, hair black as night, shiny, silken smooth, and straight, hung to her shoulders. The woman meandered through the crowded bar in my general direction. The dark woman wore a red dress, showing her well-formed breasts' cleavage.

Sitting next to me, this stunning girl pursed her lips into a kiss like expression. She said, "Oh, Mister Barkeep, absolute and soda water, please." She turned to me and lowered her voice. "Thank you for setting him straight."

"You heard us?"

"Oh, yes, I have excellent hearing," she said, licking her lips. "I'm parched. Once I've quenched my thirst, might we dance?"

"Well, I'd love to dance with you," I said, gazing at her. Something hit me, a realization. The woman's face, neck, and every exposed inch of flesh had dark, barely visible freckling. "Honest to God, never have I seen anything like you."

"The splotches. I supposed I should wear makeup. But how do cover it, here," pointing at her adorable throat, "or here," running her right forefinger up her left arm, "or here," the woman pointed to her chest.

"No, those are becoming. Please don't cover them; they remind me of the spots on a leopard."

Charley returned and put her drink on the bar, held his hand out, and the woman put a five-dollar bill in his palm. "Keep the change, Mister Bartender, sir." Adding "Siku zako zinahesabika,"

"You're welcome," he said, his anger still showing. He walked away, grunting something under his breath.

"Miss, what you said didn't sound like thank you to me," I said with a smirk.

"What I said to him was, your days are numbered."

"Aren't all our days numbered?" I said, laughing off the situation?

"In the religion of my tribe, I'm a Mchawi. A type of leader. But my religion is not so strict as many. Shall we dance?"

"Sounds fine to me," I said. "I thought Nigerians were Muslim?"

"Not all of us. My faith is older than those practiced in Ancient Egypt. But let us not talk of religions but of each other."

As we danced, she whispered into my ear.

"I'm new to your city," she said. "I'm from Nigeria of the Hausa bloodline. I'm called Shenzi. My name means savage."

"Doesn't seem to fit you to me. Well, I'm Eric. My name means ... wait for it, idiot. If you don't believe me, you can ask my mom."

She laughed, lyrical long and from deep inside. Pulling me close, allowing our bodies to press tight together, Shenzi whispered, "Eric, darling boy, your name is Old Norse and means Solitary Ruler or Forever Ruler."

"I didn't know."

"What you need to understand. Or rather, what I desire you to realize is that I want to make love through the night with you tonight. The sooner we leave, the quicker we begin."

"My place or yours," I said, trying to sound ever so brilliant.

"Let us leave in your car and figure out where we want to be."

"My pickup, 'er ya go," I said.

"'Er, I go, indeed," Shenzi said, pressing her lips to mine. We kissed, and something of my heart became hers. Once, at long last, when we broke apart, the two of us left.

As we drove away, I wondered if my telling her I loved her was something too soon to say. Would the proclamation doom me? Love at first sight. Somehow, when we kissed, I understood I belonged to her. She lay against me, her hands roaming my body. My sweet Lord, nothing compared to the feelings I had for Shenzi.

As we wound our way through the serpentine road running through the forest, she kissed me, running her fingers over my muscles and crotch, stealing tiny bits of my love, strength, fortitude, and emotions. Once wholly my own, my will gave way to a reverential deferment to her yearnings. Fires of lust for her consumed me.

"My handsome man, pull off the highway on the next dirt road. Follow the road to the river."

We stripped our clothes. The attractive, darker freckles covered Shenzi's entire magnificent body. She gently, with amazing strength, forced me on my back and not at all against my will. And yet, I wasn't sure I possessed a choice of my own any longer. So deep inside me, a passion for her ruled my mind.

Soon, her warm, wet womanhood engulfed my entire tool. The sensation of being sucked inside her, like a snake swallowing an animal whole, is indescribable.

Her hips gyrated. I thrust up into her, and she undulated on top of me. At some point, my heart melted away, and Shenzi consumed it, gobbling my soul into her. All that mattered, all I wanted, was to please, touch, kiss, and fuck her.

When I ejaculated that first time, I shot the thickest load of baby batter. Thicker than I'd ever achieved fucking or masturbating. For forty or fifty seconds, semen exploded from me in one heavy wave after another. My dick swelled, twitched, and my balls rose and pumped my seed into her.

Shenzi didn't let up. She held me down, and my strength seemed to become hers, and she continued fucking me. My prick stayed ridged, and we fucked. We'd left the bar before nine. The last time I gazed at the clock on the dash, which read one fifteen am.

When I lost my load, perhaps the fourth time, all my strength evaporated. The fatigue overtook me, and I fell asleep underneath Shenzi, with her riding my stiff shaft. I dreamed of a spotted leopard on top of me, fucking me, holding my neck between her jaws.

I don't have any memory of driving to my apartment. Or of us going to my house. Nor do I recollect us going to bed. At five in the morning, I woke to her beautiful face gazing at me with loving adulation, and she mounted me again. We fucked until seven, and again, exhausted, I passed into a dream of fucking a wild cat.

****

"Damn, nigger bitch," Charley said when she walked out of the bar. Now hours later, when he shouted, "Last call," the woman walked back inside, alone. A chill passed over the bartender.

The last customers exited the bar, passing the woman as if they didn't see her. They babbled in idle, meaningless chit chat and in a moment, all those souls were gone, and Charley Manners stood alone behind his bar.

She slinked toward the barkeep.

"Nigger, you get the fuck out of here!" he shouted.

Shenzi continued toward him, her amber gold eyes staring into his soul. Fear, longing, lust, and hate mingled in Charley Manners's mind.

"Hey, you folks outside, come back here," Charley said. Pulling a shotgun from under the bar, he shucked a shell into the chamber. "Got out here, fucking bitch."

"Shoot," she said. "Go ahead, Charley, pull the fucking trigger. Bet you can't do it, can you?"

His heart pounded. The beating in his ears prevented him from forming a coherent thought. Slight nausea pestered the redneck. At last, giving into some sickness inside, he let go of the gun, which landed with a dull thud on the hardwood floor.

With a hard cock pestering his bigotry, Charley jumped over the bar and dashed for the door, passing her. With a single bound, the leopard knocked him to the floor. Shenzi rolled him over, naked now. She straddled him, roughly holding him in place.

"You've got a hard dick," she said.

At that moment, his pecker strained against his tight jeans.

"You're a lousy piece of shit, aren't you, Charley? You want to fuck Eric's new girlfriend, don't you, Charley?"

Nodding his head, his heart raced to the point he thought it would burst. He wanted her so badly.

"Say it, Charley, say, 'I want to fuck Eric's exquisite new girlfriend. His magnificent black goddess is so sexy. I want her.' Say it, basha."

Charley repeated the words. Soon, she fucked, holding him down, consuming his soul as they copulated. Charley's essence left him with each thrust, making him even less of a person than he already was until nothing of him remained for the woman to steal but his soul. With one final kiss, his cock pumping the last of his seed into her, she sucked his soul from his body.

The next day, when his assistant showed up to open for the day, she found his body, what was left of it. Ripped apart by some wild animal.

****

From Eric Banner's Private Journal

Monday, October 3rd, 1988, 9:00 AM

The six o'clock news last night had the report of Charley's death. Ripped apart by some wild animal. Or so the news lady said.

"For the past month, people reported a black leopard roaming in the forest. These reports took on a more serious tone today when the dismembered body of Charley Manners was found in his bar. The bar was undisturbed other than his dead body. Which was torn to pieces, with several parts missing," the reporter said.

"For decency's sake, we won't go into detail about any of the missing parts. Tracks of an enormous cat, possibly a panther, were inside the bar. The bloody impressions led from the bar and disappeared in the parking lot's gravel. The searchers found a few paw prints in the soft soil of the field to the south of the bar," she said.

"According to Veterinarian Doctor Roach, the stride of the cat suggests an animal approximately five feet long and one hundred to one hundred and twenty pounds. If you spot this cat, please do not attempt to kill or capture the beast. Contact the sheriff's department."

The phone rang. I shut off the tv and answered.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey baby, can I come over?"

"Shenzi? Sure, please do," I said. "I can throw another steak on the grill if you want to eat with me."

"Umm, I could eat you up. But, no, mpenzi, I've eaten. I can't be over until about midnight. Do you have to rise early in the morning?"

"Yes, I have to be at work by eight."

"Well, honey, you will be tired tomorrow. Mpenzi, when I arrive, I shall wear you out."

"I don't mind," I said. "What's mpenzi?"

"Sweetheart, you're my sweetie-pie," she said. "And you know what happens to sweet pies, my lover? They get gobbled up." The words traveled into my heart.

"If I told you something intimate this early in our relationship, would I frighten you?"

"You can't scare me away, my darling. Tell me when we make love tonight. I think I already know what you want to say."

For now, I must rest before I finish what happened. I can't quite form the thoughts or memories to write them down.

"Why don't we have some more fun, lover?" she asked.

Oh, yes, more of her and I right now. Afterward, I'll tell you about what has happened.

****

The young deputy stood next to the farmer. His pencil hovered over his pad.

"I'm telling you, Shane, she's a fucking 100-pound, black panther, with dark black spots, like them African cats, Leopold's, but black, not white or orange with black spots, but black with darker spots."

"Leopards, Jim, and leopards are from Africa or South America. We don't have them here."

"I seen what I seen," the old man said. "Down yonder near the witchy woman's place, Miss Shenzi Zubira. Strange woman, that one. She's lived here a long time, best I remember. Ain't changed a day in 25 or 30 years. With her people, she's a Wiccan healer."

"Her people?"

"Darkies, the negros hereabouts. Them from Jamaica and such."

"Oh, well, I never met her," the deputy said. "I'll go down and check out those woods, though."

"Gonna be dark soon; you should come back tomorrow."

"I'll be fine, old feller," the deputy said, waving off the warning.

"She's liable to put a spell on you."

Ignoring the old man, Deputy Shane Little headed into the forest. With the sun so low on the horizon, the shadows of the trees covered the forest in mostly darkness. Listening, he stopped now and then, glanced around, and continued. Limbs creaked and groaned in the trees, some limbs snapped across each other, leaves rustled, and an orange, brown, and gold shower of foliage fell around him.

"What you doing on my property?" the woman appeared from now where.

"Miss Zubira, I'm searching for the cat everyone's seeing," the deputy said, shaken by her sudden appearance. "I'm Deputy Sheriff Little, ma'am."

"Well, Mister Deputy man, she ain't on my property. And if she was, you wouldn't be taking her away from me. Come on down to my house. We can talk a while. You aren't frightened by me, are you?"

"No, ma'am," the deputy said. In fact, her invitation thrilled him. After all, a more captivating woman he'd never met with her elegant form, graceful movements, exquisite face, and those haunting eyes. Her eyes memorized Shane Little. He swam in desire of her. "Well, Miss Zubira, I should continue my search."

"Not on my property. And I didn't ask. I told you to come to my house. I want a word with you."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll come to your house."

As they walked toward her home, he spoke. "People don't realize we've had about twenty people disappear the last few months. Course, we've had about ten or twelve go missing a year as far back as twenty-five years."

"Oh, I understand all about those things, Deputy."

"Yes, seems all women one year, all men the next. Sometimes we find bodies chewed up and torn apart by this cat creature. The beast showed up here about twenty-five years ago," he said.

Following behind her, he couldn't help but notice how sexy she was. How sensually she moved. His dong swelled, and Shane took off his trooper hat, holding the hat at his crotch to hide his erection.

Stopping, she turned to him. "Yes, she showed up around these parts at the same time I did. Don't hide your penis. You have the randy sent of horniness. Now my lover, strip and come inside. My goodness, you're a muscled, healthy man. I bet you have a kind heart and charming soul."

Lost in lust, without speaking, he undressed, even removing his socks and underwear. Strolling inside the small house, he dropped to the floor, his back to the old, rough wood, his member sticking straight up. She crawled up his body like a cat stalking prey. Her mouth opened, tongue ran over his cockhead, and she worked her way down the shaft.

"Oh, that feels so indescribable," he said.

At eleven pm, she'd consumed every ounce of his strength. He sucked in quick, shallow breaths and stared at the ceiling with vacant blue eyes, the light of which flickered like a candle's flame in the wind, threatening to extinguish.

"More, Miss, please more," his being almost entirely sucked away into her.