Sharing a Room
Good morning. A friend suggested I try this site and so far I will admit it looks promising. My name is Vixyy Fox, I am a writer. *smiles slyly... I do not write for children, but then neither do I do smut. What you will find in my stories is humor and wit along with a plethora (I just wanted to use that silly word) of other emotions.
*extends a paw... pleased to meet you.
Now... as you will see by this small piece - never ever mess with an old vixen.
enjoy...
Vixyy
Sharing a Room
by
Vixyy Fox
Pexi woke to a bone hard finger being stuck into his side. "You're snoring."
"Yeah..." he blinked and smacked his lips as semi-asleep sleepers sometimes will. "Yeah... so what? I don't snore I don't breathe I don't live. It's my room; I'll do what I want. Piss off!"
There was a shortage of rooms aboard the riverboat and the gambler had auctioned off half of his share of a small stateroom seeking to recoup a bit of his travel expenses. In actuality, he'd won the berth in a crooked card game so whatever he could get, besides to the next town, was profit. To his delight the share was purchased at three times the going rate by an old Fox with very big ears. Old women generally made better company that you run of the mill frontier types. They smelled better and were much easier to boss around.
Collecting the money, he'd shown her the floor and given her a ratty old blanket upon which she was to sleep. Making no comment, the Fox plunked down her single bag and parasol and made herself as comfortable as she could.
The Cat had no more dropped off to sleep again and water was poured into his mouth. Gagging, he clawed at the air thinking the steamboat had turned turtle and he was drowning. Gasping, he spat water, rolled out of his bed with a thump and pulled in a raspy breath, following it with a scream.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" he yelled at the old Fox who was lying on her blanket. Now that he too was on the floor they were face to face.
"I didn't do anything," she told him calmly, her eyes half closed with sleep. "I am trying to sleep though, so if you might possibly settle yourself, I will do the same and perhaps we will both benefit."
The Cat hawked and spat in the spittoon next to the head of the bed. Getting his sleep filled thoughts together and remembering she was only an old vixen, he growled at her, "You need to go you do it outside over the rail or in the outhouse on the fantail. The chamber pot is mine."
"As you wish," she told him, laying her head back to the small pillow she'd produced from her bag, "Though I believe I more than paid for it."
The Cat had the good sense to take a mouthful of whiskey before he tried to sleep again. It settled his nerves in short order, though he watched his roommate suspiciously while sitting on the bed. Lying back down finally, the sounds of a living steaming paddle wheeler soothed his nerves and he dozed off again. When he woke, he would go for breakfast and by lunch time he would be at his destination. A few minutes after this thought he was once again snoring.
His nose wrinkled as he snored and he was pulled back to wakefullness. He smelled smoke and it was something other than tobacco. The nerves in his foot suddenly screamed for attention and a second later he was dancing around the small cabin stamping his foot to put out the small fire that had ignited upon his sock.
The old Fox sat placidly on the floor crocheting something that just happened to look like a pair of socks. "I do wish you would stop fooling around... you're keeping me awake," she told him.
"YOU DID THIS!" he screamed at her.
"Nope, I didn't."
There was a sudden pounding on all three walls of the cabin and angry voices yelled for him to keep it down or be thrown overboard.
"My but such unruly neighbors we have," she told him with a small smile. "I've seen a few of them and none are any that I would cross words with... big fellas the likes of which would do a body physical damage just by look'n at'em."
Finishing what she was doing, she bit the yarn off going to the ball in her lap and held up the finished sock. "I'll sell it to ya if you want it. It's pure wool and the pair will keep your feet warm even if you get'em wet."
"I'm not going to get wet!" he hissed at her. Grabbing the whiskey bottle he took a very large swallow and then flopped back down into the bed. It made spring squeaking sounds as he went up and down for a moment. Feeling evil, he looked at the old Fox, "Do you want a toss?"
"With you?" she asked sweetly.
"No... with the Bear in the next room over," he snarled. Grabbing the whiskey bottle he took another swallow and set it back on the night stand. "Of course with me. You're old, but I'll make it worth your while."
"Thank you," she told him, "But I think I shall decline your offer. As I recall it was I who paid you for this meager bit of floor. With that in mind you would probably wish me to pay for your services and not the other way around; which I find repulsive in any case."
"You talk too much," the Cat grumbled. Pulling the blanket back over himself he closed his eyes and waited for the whiskey to do its work. It took a few moments, but again he fell asleep, feeling no eminent threat.
The burning sensation at his groin began humbly enough, but it was enough to open his eyes. This burning quickly flamed to the enormity of a five story hotel fire. Throwing the blanket off of himself he found his pants pulled down to his knees and his nethers shaved to where they looked like a plucked chicken waiting to be thrown into the stew pot.
Ah....ah...ah...ah..." he managed.
Turning to the night stand, he went to turn up the wick in the oil lamp, only to find an open bottle of 'Ever Hot Horse Liniment' sitting there. It's label took but a moment to register in his brain but by then the pain was such that the only solid thought flickering through his whiskey soaked gray matter was 'OH GOD MAKE IT STOP!'.
With a scream he leapt from the bed, almost tripping as his pants slid the rest of the way to his ankles.
By now the liniment had built its fire to a crescendo akin the great Chicago fire and the Cat, eyes large to the point of bugging out of his head, grabbed the chamber pot and filled it with water from the pitcher in the corner of the room. This done, he widened his stance in order to soak his manhood in what should have been a cooling fluid. No sooner was his ball sack immersed and the liniment's heat crescendoed like an erupting volcano. He shrieked as if seeing the Devil waiting to pull him bodily into the fire and brimstone ladened lands of Hades.
This had no sooner happened and the stateroom's door burst open. Standing there were the riverboat's Captain and Bosun.
"What's going on in here?!" the Captain demanded.
The Bosun, a huge Bear, stood behind his skipper who was a smallish Fox. He held a cudgel in one paw and a length of line in the other. Seeing the Cat standing as he was, his now swollen member and ball sack stuffed into the chamber pot, caused him to frown the deepest frown capable of any creature on God's green earth.
As the Cat's eyes began to roll up into his head, said member erupted in the same manner the volcano referred to earlier would have erupted with lava and his shriek hit a pitch that might have broken glass had there been any close at hand.
"Take him!" the Captain commanded in a disgusted tone.
The Bosun almost joyfully swung his cudgel. The instantaneous quiet was almost hurtful to the ears.
"Pull his pants back up and tie him Gordon, then toss him up on the forecastle with what gear he has. We shall be rid of him at the first stop in the morning. There will be no such shenanigans and perversions on my vessel."
"Aye, sir." The Bosun responded.
When he had done as commanded, the Captain looked to the old Vixen cowering in the corner. "I am right sorry for you madam," he told her softly. "Sometimes the roommates we find ourselves saddled with is a true burden. Is there anything I can do to make the rest of your voyage a little more... pleasant?"
Thank you," she managed in a timorous voice, "But now that he's gone I s'pect I'll be all right. Land sakes but I've never been so... so..."
"It's all right," the other Fox told her, "Neither have I ever encountered such insanity before. At your breakfast in the morning, I shall instruct the cook to make you something special."
"That's right nice of you, sir. I shall bid you good evening then and say a prayer for your well being before turning out the light."
The Captain nodded and then left the room closing the shattered door behind himself.
He did pause in his walk for just a moment, when he thought he heard someone giggling while bouncing up and down in the squeaky bed... but then the noise stopped and he continued on his way back to the wheel house hoping there would be no more such happenstance occurrences this night.
end