A line of potential riders stands in front of the Tunnel of Terror, a ride seemingly abandoned by its operator. The last of the riders hopped out of the boat, the two quietly exiting on their own with unamused faces. Despite this, the screams from the inside tell of a very scary experience, and the crunch and popping of mechanical parts within only add to the allure.
It is even more of a surprise and an intrigue when Lerato and Lovemore emerge from the entrance to the dark ride. Their fur and clothing are soaked, and they quickly hop the partition of the line to make for the exit queue, rushing past the casually paced former riders.
“What’s going on in there?” one park quest asks the deer, but they are quick to escape and provide no answer.
“Where the hell are the employees?”
“I want my money back!”
The tunnel entrance kicks open as Hunter strolls out from inside, the ride attendant draped over his shoulder, kicking the air in their tattered outfit.
“Have no fear, bitches, bros, and nonbinary hoes. The entertainment has finally arrived.”
He tosses the attendant from his shoulder, letting them fall on their butt. He holds onto their wrist, not allowing them to cover up their curves and mounds, revealed by the tattered outfit. The masked attendant brings their legs together to cover their sex, shaking their head, trembling at the many eyes turned toward them.
“How’s this for losing all pride and shame?” the caracal says, snickering at them. “Bet you’d feel nice and  fine if you could pluck it right out of yourself just like you did with me.”
There is a loosening in the attendant’s struggles, their shoulders and chest rising and falling in deep breaths as the mask looks at the gawking onlookers. Gulping, the attendant nods.
A moment passes when they hang there before a swirling purple mass appears on their chest. Thrusting their chest outward, the ball of energy falls and lands at their knees, their head dangling low after the expulsion.
Hunter growls, holding tightly to their wrists, his tail flicking.
A deep and dark laugh rises from the attendant before they turn their mask up towards Hunter, hopping up to their feet and hooking a leg around his, pulling him in close.
“It’d be a shame if I made myself shameless as you, you old, washed-up has-been fuck!”
He falls over his back, kicking at the orb of energy that rolls past the audience. Everyone else is so transfixed upon the display in front of them that to notice it disappear through the crowd.
The attendant grabs the ripped-up outfit between their legs and pulls the remaining shreds apart, revealing the glistening and dripping folds the glistening and dripping folds to Hunter and the world. “I’d never be caught dead fucking your stupid fucking cat cock, but who cares!? I’m good as dead anyway!”
He growls, pushing himself up only to fall back down when they land on his lap, pushing him down by the shoulders, grinding up against him.
“Watch all you want, too, because the real show is about to begin! I hope you’re ready!”
Hunter frees his shoulders from the attendant’s grasp, yanking down his pants, his cock hard for the third time in such a short time. There is no foreplay or circumstance as he grips the big cheeks behind the attendant, sliding their body down along his shaft, filling them up with the barbed penis.
The masked attendant throws their head back, moaning as the two go at it, their breasts jiggling and their body glistening from the water and the sweat building up.
And while this display goes on, the little purple ball of energy leaves the queue, bouncing along the ground until it stops at the hoof of a curious Dik-Dik.
Lerato pinches the thing and lifts it up to her face, frowning. “Now, what do you suppose is happening here, my love?”
She places the trinket in Lovemore’s waiting palm. The husband waves his hand over the top of the item, his eyes closed, his head bowed.
“Emotion extraction, my dear, through the use of ritual, it seems. Something like this would have to be done on a massive scale. I’ve never encountered something this pure before… not outside of textbooks.”
“How big are we talking?” Lerato says.
Lovemore licks his lips, scanning his eyes o er the park, where other workers and masked attendants lead other unsuspecting people to rides that provide thrills to different emotions.
“Probably the size of the park, with enough ritualists to staff a carnival.”
“This is bigger than the two of us,” Lerato says, whispering to her husband. “We need to get out of here.”
And while the two try to subtly make their way from the park at large, an attendant who is giving suggestively-shaped balloons to carnival-goers watches them make their exit, a glow emerging from behind the eyes of their mask as they say, “It’s as the master predicted—the couple found out in the tunnel of love.”
The customer sighs and shakes their head. “Well, we’d better send someone specialized to ensure they don’t spoil the surprise. I’ll find someone perfect for this job right away.”