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Bar Tales #1: The Stranger by Swamp Rat (mm)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
BAR1.TXT
Bar Tales #1 - The Stranger
By SwampRat
© 1991 The Rashathran Society
One fine day I arrived early at the Tavern to set-up the equipment. We have a
small group that plays sometimes. Not much money, but lots of good times. I
felt, rather than knew there was somebody inside.. Now I knew there wasn't
Supposed to be anybody in there.. And especially nobody who was plunking on..
My GUITAR!! This was worse than finding somebody in bed with your wife... Even
though I wanted to run in and strangle whoever it was, caution prevailed. And a
good thing too! As I cautiously opened the door (The hinges were as silent as a
ghost for once. That in itself was unusual..) and peeked in. Somebody was
sitting on stage, instrument in hand. The person was stroking it, playing
nothing in particular. Then he struck a match.. and I forgot my own name.
There, puffing a pipe into life was a WereWolf! The fangs bit into the
mouthpiece. Black, doggish lips held the Meerschaum in place. Long claws
attached to hairy fingers slid across the top, and he puffed for a moment.
Blue, Almost human eyes stared into the flame for a moment.. Then, with a
gesture that made me wince, put the flame out on his tongue.
He turned his head and spat the now dead match into the fireplace. My eyes
adjusted to what little light there was, revealing a furry body, legs crossed.
The being Did have a robe of sorts on. He reached over, turned the amp gain up,
and started to play. I was almost thrown back out the door, as the muzzle
opened.. And pain poured out. "Carry on, My Wayward Son.." The furred neck
lifted, tilting the mouth up. ".. No More..." Grief rose to the ceiling. Then
downward, shaking the grizzled head, as he went into the first riff. The being
seemed oblivious to his surroundings, not even noticing when I came in plugging
a second git-box in (Ever since a little incident, I keep a guitar locked up on
the storeroom), and started playing rythem. And even though I joined in, I
talked.. He SANG! With a touch of an English accent, misery flew to the
rafters, wafted towards the floor. And in general made me feel like a Piker,
First-Class..
As if That wasn't enough.. When he finished ripping my heart out, the creature
started playing 'Spellbound'. "I have lost my memory. Baby, for the life of
me..." I forgot to pick! Lower lip quavering, agony chased anguish across the
wooden slats. "One look and I wear my heart upon my sleeve, One touch from you,
And I just can't believe..." I felt the tears welling up. How could anything
hurt so? And those furry fingers never missed a note. With one last flourish he
sat, head bowed. I put my hand on his shoulder, in a comforting way.. "Have you
come to finally end it?" The eyes looked at me. I almost fell off the stage.
"What?!?" He sighed, standing. "No, You have no weapon.. I thank you for the
use of your instrument.." The WereWolf turned, and started toward the door.
Now, one of the First rules at Callahan's was: "Don't Pry. When they get good
and ready, they will spill the beans.." Of course many Laws and Rules have been
bent 'twixt those hallowed walls. And since we pattered ourselves after that
legendary establishment, This place was no exception. And I wasn't about to let
that tortured soul just walk out with no rhyme or reason as to why he felt
so...
I am taller than most, but I didn't even come up to his shoulders, Hunched and
all! So, I did the next best thing.. I slapped him on the back. "Come on. Life
can't be all that bad.." The creature turned around.. And Kissed me! I fell
back, sputtering. He looked down at me, a sad smile flickering across the
being's features. "Tell me you didn't feel revulsion.." A Homosexual WereWolf.
If that don't beat all.. I got up, and took a hairy paw. "Not at all. You just
startled me.." That was the Second Biggest Lie I have ever told. "I am used to
rejection." Those 4 words hit harder than if he had hauled off and smacked me.
Without thinking I lashed back. "You expect me to wallow in Self-Pity with you?
So You're Gay! At least you are alive! And healthy!" I paid for my arrogance.
He turned, and walked out. Even though it was only a few steps to the parking
lot, By the time I could get my feet to move, the WereWolf had vanished.. His
words, spoken just above a whisper, now haunted me."You do not understand.. It
is not pity, but fear that treads so heavily upon me.."
What was it like to be a creature of the dark? Did he too crave blood? We had a
resident Vampire. And a damn good friend too.. I kicked myself, looking at the
Sign. "Brotherhood Tavern. We welcome everyone." Well, almost.. Sighing, I made
the stage ready. My heart skipped a beat, when a hand laid itself on my
shoulder. "I believe I owe you an apology.." I looked at the 7-foot tall form.
"As I said, I am used to rejection. Perhaps too used to it.." I laughed
shakily, and asked him to help me with the equipment. Thereafter, He was a
frequent visitor..
* * *
He sometimes joined in our card games, But never for money. I always wondered
why. Even Ralph played for money, although what a dog would do with it, I have
no idea.. But, we respected his decision. Until one night.. I should have known
better, but after my third mug of Old Bushmills (And giving my keys to John), I
wasn't thinking too clearly. Long Drink and Doc were pretty much 'in the bag'
as well. Which is exceptional, since Doc doesn't drink.. Well, occasionally.
Anyway, Zane sat, sipping his Irish Coffee, and shuffling. Slowly.. That was a
clue unto itself. Well, somebody brought up the fact that although playing for
matches was ok, they would rather play for drinks. For once the WereWolf was in
agreement. Another ominous warning. Did we listen? Hah! We sat, grinning to
ourselves, for the pile of matches in front of the creature was somewhat larger
than anyone else's.. And revenge being a universal feeling, we decided to
recoup a small share of our pride. Nothing serious, mind, just a few dollars..
Or perhaps a Bar-Tab. Nah..
Ralph sat in awe, watching the long fingers manipulate the 'pasteboards'.
"Please close your mouth, Love.. You're giving me Ideas." He grinned. and set
them down in front of Doc. "Cut?" That worthy looked like a snake had reared up
in front of him. Then smiled crookedly. "Sure.." And promptly made 20 little
piles. Zane shoved the cuffs of his robe up to his elbows, to show us there
were no cards hidden on him. "Nothin' Up My Sleeve..." A collective groan came
from about 3 tables. Then he gathered all the piles up... And proceeded to deal
each of us an Ace. Then a King. Then a Queen. Naming each Card as it came up.
He stopped at the Ten. "That, Gentlemen, is why I NEVER Play for Money.. Let me
know when you wish to play for matchsticks.." Then he snapped one of the
afore-mentioned off his thumb, and lit his pipe with it. Stood, and took his
empty mug back for a refill. We sat there, looking at the cards.. Ralph
suddenly snapped his mouth shut. "Ideas?!?" We all fell on the floor.
* * *
I knew he was different, but I didn't understand why the being was so nervous
until.. I closed up the bar and had stepped into the parking lot, When... "I am
sorry, Bill, but I need.. I hunger.." Those same blue eyes that had looked at
me countless times, showed the ragged edge of insanity. Except the pupils were
now split, like a cat's. "I shall try to make this as fast, and as painless as
possible.." The claws dug into my shoulders, as the WereWolf pressed his lips
against mine. There was a momentary revulsion, washed away by pity as the
creature fumbled at my belt. "You see, William, I am not like other Wolfen. I
do not crave blood.." My trowsers puddled on the soft ground. "For a long time,
I made do with animals. But, Society caught up with me.." The elastic in my
underwear was stretched, and they too, fell. Claws grasped me gently, but
insistently. "Too many houses. To many people.. Now, I must get my nourishment,
as I shall from you.. By coercion, instead of volunteerism, or even Love.."
"I must ask you not to struggle or make too much noise.. I regret this, But the
want is greater than my will..." He snarled, and knelt. One paw caressed my
butt while the other held my cock up. Zane lapped on it, paying particular
attention to the sensitive underside. Despite my loathing, as we were both
males, My penis jerked to hardness in very little time. The creature continued
slavering over it.. then pressed the seeping head to his lips. I moaned, as he
pressed his muzzle forward, making my hard flesh slide into the warm mouth.
This continued until fangs pressed themselves into my groin. Long fingers
caressed my testicles, as the monster nuzzled my crotch, sucking hungerily. He
bobbed, rapidly pumping his snout along my maleness. In no time, I felt an itch
building under my nuts. The tongue wiggled against the underside of my
cock-head... And I gasped, orgasm making me grit my teeth. The Wolf milked my
churning balls for all the scum they could, drool running warmly down my
scrotum, as he sucked with abandon. Another wave of pleasure hit, making me
tilt my head back, and grab at the furry shoulders. I collapsed over the
creature nursing at my groin.
Both paws dug into my butt, as the creature laid me on my back, still gulping
my jism. I looked through slitted eyelids at the animal now gently cradling my
shrinking dick in his warm mouth. With one last longing lick, he let it slide
out, steaming. He patted the inside of one thigh. "I thank you.. But now I must
go.. It was nice knowing you, Bill.." I looked at the downcast creature. "What
do you mean 'was'?" He turned, startled. "Look guy. We have many people in
there who do much worse than suck an occasional cock. If you had given me some
warning, I would have found somebody.. Hell, If I knew you were That much in
need, I would have volunteered.." He gave me a hand up. and brushed my back
off. Then stood, head down. I felt like smacking him one. "Nothing to be
ashamed about.. Just Tell somebody.. OK?" He nodded. I grinned, thinking about
'Trixie'. Now there's someone who would Really be turned on by Zane. "Come on.
I'm thirsty.." I zipped up my pants. It had been a while since I had gotten my
rocks off.. Way too long since my last BJ. The Wolf caught me as I tripped over
a stone. He looked at me for a moment.. I grinned. Hmmm... What the hell.. One
more time couldn't hurt. "Come on, I'll buy us both a drink.."
The End
"Carry On Wayward Son" - From 'Leftoverture' by Kansas
"Spellbound" - From 'Green Thoughts' By The Smithereens
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