by Lozen on Fri Jun 09, 2017 2:44 pm
An Itch that Needs Scratched
The Lonely Inn is a place for gathering all kinds of interesting folk. We are talking about people of many different cultures, races, species, and even dimensions. All of them take to one another casually... Actually, that is wrong, they embrace one another more comely than a brother or sister, but more like a long lost lover. When one sees another, there is no stoop too low for them to bow in order to have a chance to press their lips upon their privates. It isn't their fault either. Magic in the air scorched their bums and made their inner most drive hum like a beauty to whatever breathes and moves.
In some cases, it amplifies the desires tenfold. We are not talking about the interests in having sex. It has all to do with what someone likes. Some guys like a knock out beauty with a pair of knockers that could cause them to see stars if they got too close to ogle the pair. Then there is those gals who would do the knocking and bend over them burly boys over the counter for a rough peg or two. One never knows what the other has up their skirts until the trick is played. That goes for everyone...
Even one of the Inn's most famous celebs, Fugly. Serves everyone fairly. Doesn't speak much. Has a way with the employees. Oh, and of course, loves them catboys. You see, this big gal enjoys the cute, fluffy, and adorable ears all the way down to that swishy little tail poking around that pert little tush. It gives her gooseflesh thinking about it. The want, its need, that absolute itch to sate her appetite the moment she spots those petrified scaredy-cats. When she is done, all know the tell-all signs of the poor soul losing one of their nine lives by gazing into those traumatized eyes. It isn't like she is a bad lover. Rather, the amount of gossip, speculations, and imagination already overwhelms the pitiful dears before she even lays a hand on them. The thing is, no one has actually said they've seen the ogre do more to these kitties more than hug, hold, and kiss. Maybe it might seem like molesting, kidnapping, or even rape, but that is like any strange cat being picked up at random by people; They freak the fuck out, especially when rumors of this over-sized bartender having an unsavory taste for their delicates.
So, one day, a particular person with a scruffy pair of ears, mischievous set of slit eyes behind a twitchy nose, a tail that wouldn't stop sweeping his dusty footprints into the wind, and a mind full of underhanded cunning that would make anyone believe in the bad luck they get crossing this black cat's path as he just so happens to stroll into the Inn. He's heard the tales of the 'Fucking Ugly Ogre' and had to see it for himself. That he did. Though, he also let the tender see him too. A coy smile split his lips as he approached willingly. For the rest of that evening, Fugly had fun with a new cat-toy, and it just so happened that the feline enjoyed the time too.
Next day, the same treatment. It became odd to everyone that this person would come back after that ordeal. Then again, to each their own, as mentioned earlier that everyone had a desire that became amplified with this divine aphrodisiac magically spreading thoroughly over the globe. Though it did become more odd when Fugly started to show a bit of affection towards the boy at the end of the night. As the two ended their passionate interaction, they sat down with him in her lap, talking, laughing, even the 'Unfing' at times as some would tell their friends the next day. What that meant? Mainly it is her way of agreeing or acknowledging anything spoken. Speaking of which, ever heard Fugly speak eloquently before? Apparently she is quite capable, although it sounded nearly Shakespearean, but those with the ability to comprehend tongues did manage to fiddle through the rough translation.
Which brings us to the third day. This is where everyone is starting to talk about this couple. What might they blossom from such a relationship? Is the black cat going to be her Jack and her his Rose? Will they simply be love-pals who visit one another once a day? Are the two going to slow down at some point until the Crazy Cat Lady loses interest in having just one kitty to cuddle? Perhaps there is something more going on than what could be seen?
One thing this third charming day brought to the tavern table was a God awful, "AhhhHCHOO!" Fugly wipes her side-arm beneath her nose, snorting, and smiling back down at the black cat with wet brimming and irritated red eyes. He stared back up at the ogre with a toothy grin and brushed a few fine thin hairs off his shoulder, too short and downy to be his own, onto the overly ample chest of the lady's lap he sat in. He breathed in deeply, causing her to mirror him as he groped the air beneath his chest to gesture for her to take in deep lungfuls of air to feel better. It seemed to make things slowly worse. Her nose ran, eyes sore, the back of her throat itched, the insides of her ears thrummed, above her brow and across those sockets ached, and she began to have a fit of coughing. The night did not end quite so pleasantly.
Again and again, it became worse for her, going beyond a week, and into almost the second. It started to harbor on her mood. Soon, the nights were not a genuine fantasy for her at all. At least, not as much for her, but as for the dark kitty cat, that had a different hand of fortune going for him this moonless night. With the wavy pattern his tail left in the boy's wake, he ventured into the alley, holding out a hand, and accepting the offer of payment from a fellow who appeared to be similar in characteristics to the underhanded rogue. Another catperson, one who didn't look very pleased, questioned for the condition of the tender, how her state was deteriorating, and how long it will be until it would be safe to go back. The hired boy shifted his sleeve off of his arm, took a good look at the collection of cat hairs that had been coating the inside of his jacket, and the black cat said, "Give me a hair past noon tomorrow and she won't go near another one of us so long we wear these jackets..." He turned to walk away from the costumer, but before he left, there was a -Cluck- from his tongue, a snap of his fingers, and he turned around like something had almost slipped his mind. "Oh, careful not to become allergic to it. If you want, I can sell you the manual on how to keep it away, but it's not cheap." The greedy smile on his face widens as his played man hesitates for a second before diving into his pockets for more coin, opening his mouth in an 'Ahhh' like he was about to take a spoonful, and licks his lips tastefully the moment he clasps and digs the mehrial into the palm of his hand. Closing his eyes and savoring the delight of the black night before it swallows his departing frame, he mentions into the darkness, "Revenge is so Sweet," and prepares for the next day to afflict the ogress.