Stormy nights were cliché. A bad omen and the perfect setting for a tale of fright and gore. There was always the mysterious fog that seemed uncanny for the naturally hot weather and the rain that would later pour down in sheets. No one can forget the deep guttural rumble of the thunder, nearly shattering the windows of the dusty ol’ saloon. A crack, brought on by a drunk patron previously, split further from the corner, adding a more crude and dangerous sense to the already dank and disturbed place.

Near abandonment. Truly a place rarely visited. Most would head over to the swanky and overly-gaudy bar next door where the quadroon mistresses frequently led select men across to the ol’ inn. The women there were prettier than most saloons, but none as beautiful as the select few in the darkened tavern.

Some said these beauties were the undead. Vampiress on the prowl, looking for their next victim. Some said they were enslaved by the mistress of the business, but no one knew exactly who ran the tavern. The only person truly visible was the old man who ran the bar.

Name any drink and he’d know it. Moonshine Sixer, Ol’ lady Fortuna, Hangman’s Bubbles… name it and he could make it. He was perhaps the most skilled bartender there was. He’d heard too many stories to have his own heard, half of the ones he knew lies, but his entirely the truth. Many questioned him about his employer, but he never spoke a word save she paid well and was kind to him.

The women were a bit of a mystery themselves. Very little was ever seen of them, except enough to tantalize even the shyest of men and even some women. A bare legs here, the dark smoky lashes with brilliant shining eyes that froze others from the sheer sense of arousal and lust… of course, all the eyes were a beautiful deep grey, save one pair.

The dark green eyes that sparkled with the sunburst of light green from the pupil were suspected to belong to the mistress of the house. They were the most intriguing and someone had even waited for seven weeks outside the window to get a picture. Granted, these were the first photos and it was black and white, but the pattern against the smooth skin was unmistakable and beautiful.

Many men had spent the night there, some returning very changed and others never returning. One man felt as if he could never orgasm again, and he never did. Another claimed his soul was entirely given over to the women and that he could never touch a woman again. He never did, save the woman in the ol’ saloon.

Despite all these warnings and other foolish rumours and tales, that were naturally made-up of course, Gregg Lonestar made a walk of fate towards the ol’ Saloon de Femme. His spurs rang with each step, wind sweeping dust into his eyes and the rain washing it away. His soft leather was soaked to the skin as he made his way to a place he knew would have a free room and possibly someone less used to warm it.

The steps creaked, feeling as if they would break, as he walked up the steps. Not that he was a heavy man, just an old set of steps. He was, in fact, quite handsome. Women often swooned over his muscled physique, tanned skin, and rich brown eyes. Something about them exuded charm and for those who looked hard, a hidden arrogance and cockiness. Perhaps his was his height or his strong hands that gave him that feeling or his confidence in his ability to satisfy women.

He pushed the doors open, hinged gates swinging back and forth as he stepped onto the smooth wood floor. He removed the sodden cowboy hat, ringing it out over a pail and listening to the water plop in the metal container. The plinks awoke the snoozing old bartender, whom coughed and washed his hands in a basin. He stood ready as Gregg came forward.

“Whiskey.”

The bartender complied, filling the cup and handing it over without a word. His hands shook slightly from age. The man had to be well over eighty, if not older. He eyed the cowboy suspiciously, noticing the pistols in his side holsters and cautiously rubbing a rag along the dark bar.

“I want one of yer women and rooms to. A man needs company and I ‘spect nothin’, but the prettiest lil thing you got ol’ man.”

The old man chuckled.

“They’ll be down soon enough laddy… I can bet that.”

The floor above creaked slightly and light footsteps could be heard. The soft whispers of women’s voices could be heard and footsteps. They stopped suddenly as one whispered the word wait. A single piar of footsteps was heard, heels clicking on the floor and slowly heading towards the stairwell.

Both men’s eyes looked towards the old spiraling stairwell. The first thing revealed was a suede heel and deliciously creamy skin beneath white stockings. Gregg let out a breath, dropping his glass of whiskey and the glass shattering on the ground. The bartender swallowed and quickly cleaned up the broken glass. Mr. Lonestar’s eyes ran up the juicy thigh, his tongue running over his lips as his eyes caught the edge of a see-through green dress.

He had never seen anything so amazing as he caught a view of her hips and bum, enjoying every curve he saw thus far. His eyes lifted to see her full bust, dark nipples apparent through the cloth that hugged her skin. The areolas made his breath tremble, hand shaking as he wiped his chin. The sleeves were long and he saw the delicate ends of her blonde curls touching the material.

“Oh my…”

The bartender shook his head, chuckling and continued washing a glass. He looked down away from the man, who quieted upon hearing the chuckle and his eyes caught what lay beyond her smooth thin neck.

Her lips were a soft rose color, smooth, flawless. And then he caught her eyes, the delicious emerald that made his pants tighter. He groaned and cleared his throat as she stopped on the stairs. His breath was heavy as her green eyes stared into his and then licked her lips. She pointed a finger at him and motioned for him to follow. He dropped his hat, obeying.

His footsteps were heavy as he walked up the steps, fingertips meeting her thigh and slowly slipping upward over her dress and her silky skin. His hand reached her hips before she turned and ventured upstairs. He followed, eyes on the bottom of her perfectly round and firm cheeks.

Gregg’s eyes never diverted from her, not even to the dozens of similarly dressed women that parted. They all had grey eyes. His eyes stayed on the back of her smooth neck, occasionally looking down to her swaying hips. He was so focused that he only noticed they were in a room when she stopped. He ran into her, arms slipping around her hips to keep her steady and close.

Her hands met his as he pushed her hair aside, kissing her neck slowly. She groaned quietly as his hand slid down the front of her, sliding her dress up. His fingers slowly snaked around, rubbing along her clit. He could feel breathing become irregular as he slid one finger into and worked it around slowly. She was getting wet and he pulled his finger out.

“Taste yourself.”

Gregg pressed the finger to her lips, feeling them part and slipped his finger in. Her tongue ran along it, sucking gently on the finger. She was being obedient for the time, enjoying the bulge that pressed into her back as she sucked on his finger. He slowing removed it and she turned in his arms.

She unbuttoned his shirt and then pulled him back by the material. He complied, walking forward and licking his lips. She slowly moved back onto the bed, pulling him between her legs and tossing his shirt aside. He quickly got his pants down, kicking them and his pistols to the floor.

His lips kissed up along her leg, pulling her stockings and heels off. Her kissed over her gauze like dress up to her lips, slowly pushing his cock into her. She moaned against his lips, causing him to grow more excited. Her nails dug into his skin and he thought one pierced, but the pain felt delightful as she rolled over. Now she was on top.

“Do you like it painful?”

He groaned as she leaned down and bit his nipple. Gregg loved when women enjoyed the gentleness of him, but he didn’t mind it rough either. He was thrilled as she sucked on his nipple, pulling at it gently. Her teeth bit harder, causing slight panic from how sensitive it was.

In fact, his skin had become more sensitive since her nails had dug into him or so he believed. Suddenly she pulled harshly on his nipple and he cried out in pure agony. The pain was too much now as she kept pulling on the nipple, trying to rip it. He thought for sure it would happened. Muscles began to spasm through his right peck and his eyes widened with terror as a breast formed. The pain in his nipple subsided, only for him to scream again as she managed his left, kissing between his new breasts.

“Mmm… your terror is delicious Lonestar…”

He was panting as she kissed up to his neck. Her lips on his collar bone gave him the sensation of them reforming. It felt oddly delightful, keeping him aroused despite his absolute fear and confusion. Her tongue chased over his adam’s apple, sucking on it and he couldn’t speak. It felt as if the thing were shrinking and when managed to cry out, the sound was positively feminine.

She kissed along his earlobe, ridding of any unsightly hairs and making the skin softer and more subtlely shaped. He enjoyed it, or his body did. His mind was panicking as he hoped it were only a dream as she kissed his cheeks, feeling the bone structure of his face slowly rearrange. Her lips met his, plumping them and making smooth pink ones. His facial hair was gone and she kissed his eyelids and he somehow knew the color was now grey as she kissed back down his body.

He lifted his hands to stop her, but the arm was petite and smooth, hand revealing delicate lady fingers. He was shaking as his stomach clenched, abs disappearing and the stomach appearing flat and taught, belly button small. He brushed his skin, feeling the tender flesh of a woman and looked down at his maker. She had reached his cock, having slid it out of herself.

He felt his balls suck in greatly, spasming and splitting inside his body, scrotum forming tubes. He panted heavily as her mouth slid entirely over his cock, feeling himself nearing orgasm as she did so. She sucked hard on it, his chest heaving and heart pounding. No.. Not that. He felt it disengrate, as if she had sucked hard enough to turn it to dust.

Her nails raked down his legs, causing them to spasm and feel entirely smooth. He knew he now had a pair of legs like the ones he had watched climb the stairs. An arousal and he felt himself… well…. herself close to orgasm. The feel of a tongue along his freshly formed clit and then lips giving him a french kiss between his legs set him over the edge and the white sticky fluid filled his newly formed pussy and his maker’s mouth.

He felt her stop and she lifted her head slowly to look at him. Those tantalizing green eyes drew him in and he, or she looked at the dripping lips, a single drop falling on his. Her lips parted to speak.

“Taste yourself.”

She lowered her lips and he kissed them, tasting his own cum and moaning from it. She had been right. His terror was delicious.

THE END