Cougar Bar
Cougar Bar
Darwin was a bison from Saskatchewan, and as a freshman in a big eastern university he was not fitting in well. The first problem was that everyone asked him how he liked being a buffalo, and that rankled. Bison were genetically distinct from buffalo, and much better looking, in his opinion. The second problem was that everyone treated him like a hick, and that hurt because he felt like one.
He had come to the university on a full scholarship, funded by the provincial library program, because, apparently, the province was terribly short of librarians. Unfortunately it did not include money to buy a new, not-purchased-at-the-Co-op wardrobe, and the scholarship also required him to study library science. Library science did not rank very high on the list of courses to take if you wanted to gat laid. It was right below agricultural science actually, which was his minor.
He couldn't even get on the football team, a sport that bison naturally excelled at. The team was full of bison, bears, and even some water buffalo from the inner city schools, guys that were a lot bigger and rougher than Darwin. They were what he called THUDs, which stood for 'Thinking Hurts, Use Digits', as in having to count on their toes to do simple math. Darwin was perhaps a little underdeveloped for his age, but who wanted that whole big horned, massive shoulders and chest look anyway? Well, maybe the horns would be nice.
So Darwin, disdained for his lame major, disrespected for his J.C. Penny look, and disregarded because of his less than stunning physique, was eager to prove himself, gain some respect from the easterners, and hopefully get laid before getting his graduate degree. In fact, he was ready to do just about anything to impress his fellow students.
He was at The Barn, an herbivore hangout frequented by the less popular students, the computer science geeks, the philosophy freaks, and the library science trolls, when he heard about the cougar bar.
It was outside of town, on the old main highway, away from anywhere a tourist or student confined to public transport could get to. It was supposed to have the cheapest beer, the loudest music, and the loosest females this side of Montreal, but none of the guys in The Barn had ever been there. It had a bad reputation, but no one could quite say why. Darwin suspected that it had taken on urban legend status.
"Is it a biker bar?" Darwin asked one of the older, more experienced students.
"No. It's supposed to be mostly local working females that go there." The nearsighted muskrat answered as he adjusted his thick glasses.
"A show bar then?" Darwin wondered. "With male strippers, parts dangling and all?" He could see staying away from a place like that, unless ... maybe they were hiring? But Darwin could neither dance nor bring himself to undress in public, so that prospect would remain a fantasy.
"No. They just have a juke box, some pool tables and the usual stuff." A shy young ram answered.
"How would you know?"
"My older sister checked it out when she was here for her post-grad studies." The ram replied defensively. "But she didn't stay long. The other clients scared her."
"Really?" Darwin leaned in, interested. It was second-paw information, but better than the old standby of 'They say'. "What were the others? Lesbians? Bull Dykes? What did they say to your sister, 'Come here, ewe, and gimme some tail'?
Most of the rest chuckled at Darwin's bon mot, but the ram did not smile. "They were all older felines, cougars mostly, that's why it's called the cougar bar. They didn't like having a younger, prettier female around."
Darwin shuddered. He did not know whether the ram's sister inherited the same genes as her cross-eyed, slope-headed, bandy-legged brother, but if she was only half as ugly he would hate to see a creature that would consider her a rival. He was just about to ask why anyone would be scared of a bunch of old pussies when there was a commotion at the entrance to The Barn. A bunch of THUDs, fresh from football practice from the smell, had arrived and were demanding to get a table for twenty.
They were all the big herbivores from the varsity team, the tackles, blockers, nose guard, and a hippo that played center on occasion. The other members of the geek squad started to move around nervously. The only large tables were the ones they were gathered around, and the older ones had lived this scene before. Sure enough, within a minute the THUDs were heading their way.
There was a lot of unnecessary rough backslapping and squeezing in of chairs when the larger group joined them. The rest of Darwin's fellow losers stood up and began to ease their way between the hulking football players, making for the exit.
"Hey, you guys aren't leaving already are you?" One of the team-mates, a bison whose chest was roughly twice as big around as Darwin's, called after them sarcastically. Then he noticed that Darwin was still there. He frowned down on the smaller bison. "What's your problem Bub? You like football players?"
"I was thinking of trying out." Darwin replied. Further comment was made impossible by the volume of the laughter.
"In which ..." the bison paused to think, unconsciously counting on it digits while its mouth moved silently "... decade? Yeah, which decade chum?" The rest of the team roared at his wit.
"You're right, you're right." Darwin waved them down to a few chuckles. "I'm not big enough to tackle or block. But I was thinking maybe ... quarterback. Yeah, it would be a change to have one of us," he nudged the bigger bison with his elbow, "as quarterback, wouldn't it? After all, the carnivores don't have a patent on tactical acumen."
"They got parents, just like us." A musk ox said with a puzzled look. Darwin could see from the rest of their expressions that they were still stuck on patent had not even begun to ponder the meaning of 'acumen' yet. He could hear the gears grinding slowly inside their heads.
"Where is the rest of the team, by the way." Darwin asked to break the stalemate. "I thought it was one for all and all for one with you guys."
"The carnivores?" his bison buddy answered. "We play with them, but that doesn't mean we hang out together." Just then the waitress arrived with several pitchers of wheat bear and two trays of deep-fired vegetable combos. "They don't drink this stuff or eat the same kinda food we do. They prefer chicken, pork, ..."
"Beef." A large black bull added sadly.
"They have their own bars and pubs. Places you don't want to go." The big bison concluded before draining a pitcher of wheat beer.
"Like the cougar bar?" Darwin asked, innocently enough.
The bison linebacker sprayed beer on the teammates who were sitting across from him. "The cougar bar?" He sputtered when he could breathe again. "No one goes to the cougar bar, not even the carnivores."
Darwin's mind, lubricated by the three beers he had already consumed, shifted into high gear. An idea was forming.
"Oh, really?" He said nonchalantly as he poured himself a beer from their pitcher. "I was just about to blow this joint and head down there to check out the action." There was a shocked silence.
"Coach says don't go in there alone." The morose black bull spoke slowly. "He says don't go in there at all, but if you gotta go in, take ten or twelve buddies with you and count heads ... and tails, before you leave"
Darwin could read fear on their faces, but also a bit of resentment. They would not go against their coach, but they sorely wanted to see the legendary bar. His plans began to gel.
"Well, I don't have to do what coach says, and I'm not afraid." It was true, on both counts. Saskatchewan bars were a lot rougher than these southern Ontario taverns and pubs. Folks who spent their days hauling and lifting bales of canola and sacks of wheat drank hard and hit harder. There were fights every night down at the local Legion Hall. The worst Darwin had seen here was a couple of vixens try to scratch each other's eyes out because they liked the same basketball player.
He stood up and stretched languidly, draining the beer he had filched as he did. "Have any of you actually been in this bar?" He asked as he set his glass down. To a creature they shook their heads no. "Then l guess I'll have to tell you all about it when I see you tomorrow."
"Hey little bro." The bigger bison stood up and grabbed Darwin by the upper arm. "This cougar bar is no place for a calf, no matter how gutsy. Why don't you stay and have a couple of more beers with us?"
Yesterday Darwin would have jumped at the opportunity to drink with the THUDs and bask in their reflected glory. The other bison looked genuinely concerned too, but he had called him a calf, unintentionally probably, but it still hurt. Darwin shook his paw off and turned for the exit.
"I'll let you know how it went." He called back.
* * * * * * * *
Darwin left The Barn, four beers sloshing around inside of him, and hailed a passing taxi. The taxi driver, a Bengal tiger in a turban, chuckled and asked him if he was sure he wanted to go to the cougar bar. Darwin boldly affirmed his destination. The ride had took about fifteen minutes; five minutes to get out of the downtown core, another five to cruise through the industrial area to the edge of town and five more at highway speed before the neon sign came into sight. The sign proclaimed the name of the place as 'The Meat Locker', but the driver assured him that it was the bar he sought.
There was a small group of felines smoking outside the main entrance when Darwin stepped out of the cab, and they stared in amazement as he strode past them and entered. They hurriedly stubbed out their cigarettes and followed him.
Inside the bar Darwin paused to let his eyes adjust. The tavern was not well lit, but he could make out a number of possibly feline figures that all seemed to be turned his way, silently watching him. More were coming in the door behind him. As his vision improved he could see that the crowd was indeed feline, and all female.
There were tall, slim ones and short stout ones. Ones with breasts the size of watermelons. There were almond-eyed tigresses, sleek lionesses, and a pair of snow leopards that looked like twins, but the majority were cougars. All of them were dressed stylishly, in tight low-cut jeans, revealing tops and heels. They all wore large gold earrings, necklaces and bracelets, as if to say 'I can afford to take care of you'. Their hair was styled, and their faces were covered in makeup. And every one of them was frozen in place, staring at Darwin.
The song on the jukebox, something about delicious young cowboys, ended and that broke the spell. Suddenly they all moved at once, toward him. Darwin found himself surrounded by a babbling pack of women.
The group propelled him toward the bar. Along the way he felt a few paws squeeze his ass, and one pinched it. At the bar he was able to get his backside against something solid, and he turned to face the hoard. Someone put a drink in his paw, something tall and colourful with salt or sugar around the edge of the glass, he wasn't sure which. Someone else put a shot glass with an ounce of smoky amber fluid in his other paw. Darwin downed the shot and sipped at the tall drink while the shooter was refilled. Money was being placed on the bar for more drinks, but not his money. He was beginning to like this place.
The lights shining on the selection of wines and liquors were bright, and they reflected off the mirrored bar to illuminate the faces of the clientele. Close up and well-lit, Darwin could see that the felines were all of a certain age, the one categorized by young bucks as 'older' although it was hard to tell exactly how old with all the makeup and distracting jewellery they had on. Some had dyed their fur, to cover up a touch of grey perhaps. Others had streaked their hair with white to make the grey look like part of the pattern. The snow leopard twins had applied glitter to dazzle onlookers, but behind the facade Darwin could make out wrinkles around their eyes and loose skin under their chins.
But by the time Darwin had finished his third shooter and the first tall drink he had ceased to notice those little imperfections. In fact, the ladies were looking lovelier with each passing minute. The music had started up again, a pounding techno beat that it was impossible to stand still to. Darwin began to swing his hips in what passed for dancing where he came from, and the felines cried in delight. Several paws grabbed him and guided him to the dance floor.
Darwin found himself in the middle of a gyrating group of females. They were running their paws all over his arms and chest, and butt. They were rubbing themselves against him and purring loudly in that erotic way felines have. Now and then one would press her butt right up against his crotch and grind her sex against the erection that had developed there despite the thinning effect that large amounts of alcohol can have on the blood. One lioness even climbed up on him and tried to dry hump him right there on the dance floor before her jealous friends pulled her off.
The song ended and another began. Darwin struggled to keep up with the pack of wild females as the booze coursed through his veins. His erection came and went as alcohol fought lust for control. But he was burning the drinks off fast, and his balls were threatening to explode as more and more often a paw would stray to his groin and squeeze him or stroke him. It was time for Darwin to cut one of these fillies loose from the pack before the evening ended with soiled underwear and laughter. Now which one? Maybe the snow leopard twins, he fantasized.
Suddenly the bar went quiet as the music was cut off in mid tune. Everyone looked toward the juke box, which had gone dark and silent. A moment later it came back to life, its colourful neon tubes flashing as the power was restored. It illuminated a single paw as it rose up from where the wall socket was. It slipped some coins in the slot and pressed the buttons to make its selection. Then it was withdrawn back into the shadows.
A slow, sultry instrumental filled the bar, something Darwin did not recognize, with a lot of horns and saxophones in it. The ladies had stopped dancing, and were all looking over their shoulders in the direction of the juke still. Darwin, in the middle of the pack on the elevated dance floor, could not make out what they were looking at. Slowly, they started to shuffle around, pulling back away from him and creating an opening in their circle. Someone was approaching the gap from the darkened bar.
She stepped out of the shadows and into the light, a statuesque cougar with a golden coat. She was larger than the rest of the felines, as big as Darwin, and the way she moved, with an air of regal confidence, told him that she was the leader of this pride. He studied her as she slowly approached.
Her eyes were golden, like her fur. Her jeans looked like they had been painted on, and they followed each line and fold of her magnificent body. Her blouse was a transparent silk item, tied in a loose knot under her breasts. The black lace bra could barely contain the full, round globes beneath it. Large golden earrings dangled from her fuzzy lobes, golden hoops clicked against each other at her wrists, and a triangle of gold filigree rested on her chest above her breasts, pointing down into the abyss between them.
She stepped up to the stunned young bison and put one wrist on his shoulder. "My name is Dee-Dee." She said. And those were the last words that she spoke to him until they left the bar together.
The song was still playing, in the middle of a long wailing saxophone solo that brought images of lashing tails and undulating hips to his mind. Dee-Dee moved in time to the music, bringing his fantasy to life. As she swayed she came closer, inducing his body to match hers as it drew nearer. By the time her hips touched his they were synchronized. She wrapped her arms around him, tucked her head into the warmth of his neck, and they danced.
Their dance was slow and sensuous, with paws caressing backs and buttocks and tails swaying counter time to their hips. She seemed to melt into him. Every square inch of her from knees to shoulders was in contact. Her breasts were squashed against his chest, her hips were locked against his, and their thighs fit together like logs piled for the coming fire. They moved together, neither leading, with little friction, a good thing considering how close he was to cumming just at the sight of her. She felt good, and smelled better, and he ignored the grey roots and loose skin around her ears. He just closed his eyes and surrendered, and with the dance she claimed him as her own
He opened his eyes into slits, and over her shoulder Darwin could see the disappointed looks on the faces of the rest. But they also looked resigned, and none stayed to challenge the cougar. She was the Queen of the Meat Locker, and he was her mate, at least for tonight.
After the money she had put in the juke box ran out she lead him to a small table near the dance floor and gestured toward the bar. The bartender brought over a tray with an array of shooters and fruity drinks. Darwin was certain that Dee-Dee was the only one here who could command such service, and he wondered if she was trying to impress him. Not that she needed to, he was already captivated by the softness of her fur, the exotic look in her eyes, and the subtle scent that she wore. Nor did she need to ply him with drinks; his cock was already stiff and pointed to her like a dowsing rod, anxious to break free of the restraining trousers. But she downed a shooter and smiled at him, so he downed one also.
She grinned, her fangs showing just the slightest bit, when he met her challenge. She picked up the next shot glass and drained it too. Darwin grasped another, his paw fumbling a bit, but he managed to get it up to his mouth and slurp it up without incident. She picked up a third.
That's when things started to get fuzzy.
* * * * * * * *
Darwin woke up the next morning with a head twice its normal size, at least that's how big it felt. The early morning sun streaming in through an open window had awakened him, and it almost blinded him when he opened his swollen eyes. Where the hell am I, he wondered?
He waited until the pain in his eyes subsided before opening them a bit and looking around. At first he thought that he was in a hospital room, everything was so sterile and neat, but he soon realized that it was some kind of bedroom. It looked kind of like his mother's bedroom actually, all pastels and frilly things. The mirror on the ceiling was about the only difference.
He set his mind to figuring out how he had gotten here.
First a quick inventory; his head was splitting, his stomach was rumbling and rolling, and his eyes were bloodshot. So he had gotten drunk, that was to be expected. He looked down at his arms and chest where they were not covered by the bed sheet. There were small scratches and suck marks all over them. His cock also felt sore, battered even, but his balls felt ... light, empty, drained. He concluded that he had finally gotten laid. An odour was drifting in through the open door, and he could smell something cooking. Even better, breakfast in bed before an encore presentation, one that he would be able to remember, unlike the previous night's performance.
He vaguely remembered finishing the tray of drinks and dancing with Dee-Dee again. Then there had been more drinks while she sat on his lap and nibbled on his ear. Some of her cronies had come by and congratulated her on her catch, asked if she was willing to share. She just laughed and told them to find their own boy toy.
Had they taken a cab or her car? Darwin could not remember. He did remember stopping by the side of the highway to vomit, doubled over mumbling apologies while she rubbed the small of his back. "To make it come up easier." She had said. Then there was another blank spot. The next memory was of him in a bathroom, done in light green with pale yellow towels, shower curtains, and accessories. A voice was calling him to hurry and clean up, 'cause momma was waiting for her big boy'.
He didn't remember washing, or undressing, but he remembered sitting naked on the edge of a bed, this bed he realized now. Dee-Dee had strutted into the bedroom, naked too except for a pair of high-heeled pumps. The heels made the muscles on her thighs and calves stand out as she struck a pose before him. She looked just as good, better, than when she was stuffed into the form-fitting outfit earlier that evening. Maybe her breasts hung down a little, and her hips were a bit heavy, but she had put rouge on her nipples and her cleft was trimmed and shaved like the Internet porn stars Darwin pawed to just recently. Her groin was on a level with his face, and he could see the pink inner lips of her sex just beginning to show.
He remembered having an erection bigger and harder than any he had ever had before. He remembered Dee-Dee knelling between his legs, stroking his pole with one paw and caressing his bursting balls with the other. "What say we drain these bad boys before we really get down to business?" she said with a toothy grin as she bounced his testicles up and down. Then she had opened her mouth, brought the tip of cock close and ... and that was all that he could remember.
But the worn out feeling and the emptiness below must mean that he had a hell of an experience, and he was looking forward to another tussle or two after breakfast. She was probably an animal in the sack, if the little scratches and bite marks were any evidence. He lay back with his arms behind his head and sighed in contentment. His objective had been to get high and get laid, and maybe get some respect. Now he was going to get fed also. Bonus.
He drew in a deep breath though his nose. The scent of oil was heavy in the air and he wondered what she was cooking. It smelled nice but he could not put his digit on it. Maybe she was making something for herself too. Was it ... chicken, pork? Something familiar. He considered getting up and joining her in the kitchen, but just then she appeared in the doorway.
She was wearing heels, an apron, and nothing else. She had showered, washing out the temporary highlights from her fur and the makeup from her face. In the harsh morning light she had lost the allure that the soft glow of the dimmed lamps had given her the night before. He face was all angles and lines and she looked her age now, but she was still a formidable sight. Her breasts still swelled behind the apron, her legs and arms were still trim and taught, and she was mostly naked in his presence, which counted for a lot. He rubbed his cock idly through the thin sheet and wondered how long it would take to recover from its endeavours the night before. By the time breakfast was finished, he hoped.
Dee-Dee had a spatula in one paw. Darwin briefly fantasized being spanked with it. Maybe later. The smell of cooking clung to her and filled the room.
"What's for breakfast?" He asked sleepily.
"Something I found a recipe for on the Internet." She replied, grinning widely enough to show her fangs. "Prairie Oysters in a cream sauce."
"I know what those are." Darwin said, proud of his encyclopaedic knowledge. "Raw eggs in milk. They're supposed to be good for building up sexual stamina." He smiled sheepishly. "The legend is that the indigenous hunters would consume the testicles, what they called the male eggs, of their prey to acquire their sexual prowess and stay young. Now body builders and boxers call the high-protein mix of milk and raw egg prairie oysters, after the mythical dish, because of the way the yolks look floating in the milk. I've never had them, but tonight has seen a number of firsts for me, so why not? " He sniffed the air again; the sickly, sweet scent of frying meat was stronger now. "What are you having?"
"I'm the one having prairie oysters." She said still grinning, all her teeth on display now.
Darwin began to sweat. "Ha-ha. Very funny." She just stood there, grinning. He looked around for his clothes. Maybe he should skip breakfast and just leave. He had enough to keep him in free drinks for the rest of the semester anyway. Where did she put his clothes? In the bathroom, maybe? Suddenly he didn't want her to see him naked. Not with her grinning at him like that.
"You know, Dee-Dee, it's been great, but I have an early class and chess team practice and stuff. So if you would just throw me my clothes." She didn't move.
A loud, persistent beep-beep-beep, came from the kitchen, breaking the silence. Dee-Dee turned at the sound, giving Darwin a flash of naked butt and swaying tail.
"I have to go stir it before the cream burns." She said as she strode away. "And by the way, bison boy, not all legends are myths."
Why didn't they just tell him that the old felines were crazy, Darwin wondered, and save him the trouble of finding out for himself. Still, if he could find his clothes he could slip out the bathroom window before she got back. And if he couldn't, well it wouldn't hurt the story any to be brought back to the dorm by the police, wrapped in a blanket.
Darwin jumped up from under the sheets and went to sprint for the bathroom, but something brought him up short and he went down face first into the deep pile carpet. He rolled over on his back and tried to focus through watery eyes. There was a chain wrapped around one leg of the bed. It ended in a leather cuff that was strapped tightly around his right ankle. The strap was secured by a small but sturdy looking padlock. But that was not the worst. The worst was the bloody square of bandage taped between his legs, just below the base of his cock, where his balls should be.
Darwin screamed.
* * * * * * * *
In the kitchen Dee-Dee swore. The recipe was hard enough to follow without all this distraction. Cooking was a bitch, even when the groceries walked right up to you and let you sit on their lap. The neighbours would think she was torturing the poor lad, or Yiffing him. But Dee-Dee was not one to play with her food.
She turned the flame under her sauce pan to low, selected a wooden tenderizing mallet from the rack above the oven, and turned reluctantly back to the bedroom. So much for keeping him fresh for the bridge party tomorrow night, she thought regretfully. I wonder if Myrtle has some spare room in her freezer?
The end.
Based on a seed sowed by Commander Eagle who wrote:
"A young university graduate goes for a night on the town and has too much to drink. He wakes up in a room he has never seen before and hears the voice of a girl outside and the sizzle of food frying in a pan, he smells and feels the thick oil in the air..."
Once planted, who knows how these things will grow?