This 1,000 word fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It features a monstrous handjob and a buxom tavern wench. (Before you ask, it’s pronounced ROW-sheen.)
Another night at the Color Animal Inn. Another blotto farmhand sneaking his grubby fingers under her dress. Another hall-to-hall brawl that she’ll have to clean up after when the sots have all passed out. Another game of “What’s That Stain?” on the way to her quarters. Oh, just another night.
Roisin sighed as she wiped the spittle off another fractured mug. She happened to catch the shattered reflections of her tired face as she held it up to the firelight. Eyes like emeralds, lips as full as the moon, and a set of tits fuller than a nursing cow’s, she thought. And where did that get you?
The Color Animal Inn was supposed to be a temporary job, something that would bring a bit of coin in while Roisin waited for her real life to start. A life that didn’t belong to a mere tavern wench. The trickle of gold entering her pockets never was able to keep up with the day-to-day expenses that took it all away. It was a long swim to shore, and Roisin could just barely keep her red curls above the water.