Sunday, May 23, 2010

Humble Beginnings

by Pat Cunningham

My mind’s a blank this week, so I’m resorting to flash fiction to fill up the space. This was intended for a SF/fantasy anthology about, ahem, “professional” ladies and was inspired by a show about brothels I saw on the History Channel. Fortunately a better idea hit, but here’s the beginning of this one. I have no idea where it’s going. Is it horror? Is it a romance? Is it a horrible romance? Suggestions are always welcome.
********
“My wife’s a real dog,” the drunk on top of the brothel’s bar told his audience of disinterested hookers. “She’s a pointer-setter. You pointer at the bedroom and setter on her ass. But Siriusly, folks – "
Rob shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“Werewolf humor.” Sanders took a sip of his rum and Coke. “Or what passes for humor with them. What do you want? They’re not human.”
Rob glanced nervously at the bored women lounging by the bar. They looked human enough. No hairier than the average prostitute, no tails, and they didn’t growl when they talked to you. Then you started noticing the little details. The hum of energy that seemed to leak off them in spite of their leisurely poses. The slitted yellow eyes that raked the room like a predator’s checking for meat. The lack of makeup and jewelry. It went with the loose, billowy clothing. All the better to change shape, m’dear. If one believed the rumors, of course.
He tried to make a joke of it. “C’mon. They’re not really werewolves, are they?”
“They’re supposed to be. Well, except for Letterman there up on the bar. I think he’s a coyote.”
Rob gulped his drink without tasting it. When Sanders suggested they try out a shifter bar, he’d gone along on the theory his buddy was pulling his leg. Sure, the Lupanara had a rep. What good whorehouse didn’t? But now that he was actually inside self-preservation and not his dick had chosen to rear its head. Rob liked an exotic fuck as much as the next dude, but the next dude was generally human. Watching these women with their athletic bodies and quick animal movements, his second thoughts progressed to thirds and fourths.
Lupanara. House of the She-Wolves.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he muttered.
“You kidding?” Sanders polished off his drink. “Wolf sex, buddy. Ain’t nothing like it. If you can’t run with the big dogs, get your puppy ass back to the car.”
“Hey,” one of the girls yelled at the comedian. “You gonna buy something or you just gonna yap all night?”
“Might as well buy.” The alleged coyote shrugged. “I’m wasting my best material on you hounds. No sense of humor, that’s what’s wrong with you.” He did an eeny, meeny, miney and moe’d the girl who’d jeered him. She shrugged in turn and sashayed away from the bar. The pair left the lounge with the girl in the lead and the coyote at her back, bent slightly forward.
“Is he sniffing her ass?” Rob said.

6 comments:

Savanna Kougar said...

Omy... the Best Little Whorehouse in Shifter-Landia... I don't know, Pat, I really like it, but I'm not certain what direction to take it, other than I find it amusing or it tickles my odd funny bone... plus, Letterman does look like a coyote.

Of course, the question that arises for me, is: why would werewolves be prostitutes... do they just enjoy the animal sex... are they in need of money for hide out with... course, they could be 'ferreting' out useful info...

ladybirdrobi said...

Well Pat I'm not an author so i can't give good advice but it did tickle my funny bone. I can imagine the scene in a book but Rob is really being a killjoy and yes he probably was sniffing her ass, it would be so Letterman to do so. Werewolves being prostitutes, I suppose anyone needing finances could go that direction especially if it's a Chanku wolf because shifting makes them horny, love Kate Douglas' series found in Wolf Tales and Sexy Beast anthologies. A shame the Wolf Tales are coming to an end after she publishes number 12. I sincerely hope her publisher will accept her suggestion of the next generation of Chanku tales. I'd buy them even on my limited income. Oh well back to your scene maybe these werewolf prostitutes were left high and dry by their mates which would be unusal they mate for life but maybe their mates had head injuries and don't remember that they are married.

Well Pat that exhausts my supply of ideas. Hope you solve your dilemma.

Robin
Robbibird3@aol.com

Serena Shay said...

LOL...I love it, Pat. This would be a great 'day in the life' of your many assorted shifters. Maybe Rob and Sanders are like the two small town geezers who talk a big show and know all the "town" gossip (or in this case your story gossip) and they give little glimpses of that to your readers.

It would go great on a blog. ~hint, hint~ ;)

Pat C. said...

Why would a she-wolf sell herself for sex? I had Rob ask that very question later on. Maybe out of frustration, since only the alphas mate, so if you ain't the alpha bitch you ain't gettin' nothing nohow. I didn't know which direction to take it which is probably why it withered on the vine. There really was a brothel known as the Lupanara in ancient Pompeii, by the way, and it does mean "House of the She-Wolves." Would the History Channel lie to us?

The story I'm submitting to the anthology involves a priest who hires a hooker to lie with their god, whom the priests suspect may be a virgin. I'll let you know how it goes.

Savanna Kougar said...

Pat, intriguing indeed. A virgin god and only a werewolf prostitute can find out the truth.

Lupanara, that so fits everything I know about Pompeii. Sex/erotic scenes were painted in houses. They had phalluses everywhere, carved from stone I believe and also golden ones.

Savanna Kougar said...

Robin, great ideas.

I know Kate has been very successful with her Wolves.
If her current publisher doesn't except for some weird reason. If she still wants to pen the next Chanku generation, I know there are other publishers that would love to have her.