Ludy's Kink Cafe Ch. 01

PART 1

Hugo Long was coiled up in the back seat around his favorite log. The Autumn sun flickered over the prize winning boa constrictor as the car swerved over the river and through the woods. The librarian suggested, but did not insist, that he take the unwieldy piece of driftwood to keep Hugo at ease. It seemed to be working.

Ziggy Odyssey was driving. Ziggy was uncomfortable around reptiles. He wished his traveling companion were of the warm blooded variety. But a mission from the librarian was always an adventure... even if it meant spending three days driving time with a non-conversational serpent. Hail Mumbo Jumbo!

He'd been with the organization for nearly seven years and he had the merit badges, schtick, and Polaroids to prove it.

It had once been thought that he'd make an excellent High Priest someday, but at age 30 he had developed a proclivity for gallivanting. He hung up his seeker goggles and turned to adventuring. And so, the organization kept him on board as an errand man of sorts. As to the hows and why-fors of the Mumbo Jumbo echelon, they kept him much like one would keep a prize mushroom: in the dark and full of shit.

Which was just fine with him. Ziggy thought mushrooms were magical. All he knew was that he was supposed to deliver his serpent friend to a fortune teller in Peoria, Illinois by Tuesday, plenty of time to lolly-gag and root about.

He unrolled the window (snakes stink!). He lit a cigarette.

"Welcome to Wisconsin, Hugo!" he said to his backseat passenger as they crossed the state line.

"Hey Hugo, do you know Wisconsin's state motto?" Hugo didn't answer.

"It's 'FORWARD!'" The little speck in the center of Hugo's yellow eyes were motionless.

"...forward..." Ziggy muttered less enthusiastically this time.

Forward- being near, at, or belonging to the front. Eager. Ready. Brash. Bold. Getting ready for the future. Forward.

Flash "forward" a few hours later... (at Ludy's Cafe in Noplaceville, Wisconsin.)

Ziggy spun around in dizzying circles on the lunch counter stool. weeeee. The jingle bells on his official Mumbo Jumbo fez clattered as he squeaked his seated pirouette to a halt.

He looked like a beatnik shriner. He was accustomed to the cautious stares of strangers but he got a good vibe from this place. Nobody seemed to pay him much attention and he found it very liberating. He felt at ease the moment he walked through the door and he had a giddy notion to kick off his All-star tennis shoes and prop up his long-toed stinky feet.

He surveyed the moment at hand. The chatter of small town Wisconsin folk enjoying a pleasant lunch percolated like popcorn. Ludy's was bustling. The scene was so packed with brightly colored Americana that it looked like a fucking Norman Rockwell jigsaw puzzle.

Silverware clanked. A chubby platinum-haired lady wrapped her lipsticked mouth around a roll. Shakey legged old men read newspapers at the front door. Across the street an American flag flapped in the wind. A boy in a green jacket rode by on a bicycle. The sun was warm and bright. The jukebox was "wham bam a lam bam a bing bong booing". The pie display was aglow.

And so was Ziggy. Get a load of the decor... Farmer Bill bric-a-brac and autographed baseballs. The twisted, majestic rack from some unlucky stag loomed over the dining room and a slew of plaqued fish were frozen in time with their big mouths gaping in holy aquatic ferociousness. A black & white photo of a midget in a ten-gallon hat shaking hands with Richard Nixon hung above the milkshake machine.

A waitress was taking an order. Ziggy was taking hers. What an outfit! Was this 1955? Saddle shoes & bobby socks. Tanned legs and a light blue car-hop skirt and apron; its curt hem whispering around her firm thighs. Embroidered on the back of her satiny black shirt, in flamboyant, pink flamingo loops was the call to "Eat at Ludy's". A cute little paper hat was nestled in her long honey golden hair. This blonde was devastatingly sexy. Men whistle at shapes like her's. Me-my-my.

And what have we here? Another sock-hop waitress breezed by and gave him a crooked smile. Her fire red hair coiled and spun out in frizzy spastic untamed locks. A vulcan-voodoo princess if he ever saw one. Green bambi eyes blinked their fanning lashes behind her black rimmed glasses. Lanky. Jaunty. Tall. Young. Her sharp little nose. Her pointed tits.

Ziggy wanted to spread this fire goddess's long skinny legs akimbo. She'd be all shy and blushing and awkward at first but during the bucking and bouncing and grinding and fucking she'd scream her fire engine off. Yes, you delectable little doormouse, Ziggy would love to tip your teapot. Push your crooked smile into the soft pillows and work out a rhythm on your pale white backside amidst your muffled screams... ooo la la.

Ziggy's daydream was interrupted when a kid with a bow tie and standard issue Ludy's paper hat set a glass of water on the counter for him.

He was dressed all in white, except for his silly little red bow tie. His apron, which might have once been white, was dingy with the smears of grease spit and chocolate malt.

"Trade ya hats..." said Johnny Bow-Tie with a smirk.

"Not on your life, but I'll tell you where you can get one of these jim dandies if you tell me the names of your enchanting waitresses," Ziggy propositioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay. It's a deal," laughed Johnny Bow-Tie.

"Good! Here's what you do: Go to The Fifth Dimension, just outside of Normal, Illinois. Tell 'em Ziggy sent 'cha. Fast Larry might even throw in a free swizzle stick," he said.

"Okay. Fair enough," chuckled Johnny. "Well, that's " ----- and his voice just cut out. Johnny Bow-Tie's lips were moving, but all Ziggy heard was something that sounded like centipedes doing a rhumba.

Then, for an instant, time seemed suspended. The honey-blonde waitress looked over her shoulder at him. There was a roaring sound like a train. Her pale blue eyes met his disoriented stare. She looked straight into the mirror of his mind and pursed her glossy lips in a mocking kiss... the world was screaming inside his head, and then... POW!... everything was fine again.

Ziggy pulled on his ear, completely thrown off guard by the strange auditory hallucination.

Bow-Tie Johnny's voice cut back into the soundtrack, "so the guys all call her RAGING Ragina. She can be a real bitch when she wants to. Don't tell her I said that. The tall red-head with glasses, that's Sarah. She's nice but kinda weird.

"Miss Shikeena don't work the lunch shift, neither does Kayla or Lori," Johnny Bow Tie said as he toweled off a glass.

Another waitress bolted from the kitchen, dropped her order pad, lost her silly paper hat when she bent over, and bumped her head on the counter as she came back up. *thunk* "SHIT!" she shouted.

"...And this is Cass. She's the one who'll be taking your order," said Johnny Bow-Tie as he headed back to the kitchen with a bus of dirty dishes. "Hello there," said Cass. She was feeling for a lump under locks of chestnut brown hair. Ziggy swooned. He instantly liked her. Curses! He wanted to fuck every waitress in this place. Cruel fate, why must you mock thee?

"Are you o.k.?" Ziggy asked dreamily. The milliseconds spun by, he fell in love with her three or four times and Cupid's arrows (eros) kept right on falling.

"yeah, I'm o.k... just clumsy..." She blushed as she fixed her hat.

"Embrace chaos," Ziggy said, as if he were being helpful.

She gave him a blank stare,"...hey...YOU got a cool hat. Are those hummingbirds? I love hummingbirds," Her northern voice was musical. All those stretched vowels made Ziggy crave oral sex.

"They ARE hummingbirds." Ziggy cooed. She enamored him. It didn't take much to enamor Ziggy Odyssey. Ziggy would be what you would call "a free spirit" if only he could learn to stop falling in love with every waitress, cashier, and telephone operator that struck his fancy.

"ALL the chicks dig my hat. I'm starting a fashion revolution," he stated matter-of-factly.

"hhmph!...yeaaaah well...I wish SOMEBODY would revolutionize the fashion around here," (rolling her dancing dark eyes). She flipped through her order-pad.

She was cute. Round doll face. Demure lips. He noticed the acne scars shadowing through her makeup. He wanted her even more. Wide hips that could hula him into oblivion. Her tits were pert little teacups.

"Yeah *chuckle*... that's quite a getup you've got on..." (Did he just say "getup"? Ziggy Odyssey, your Midwestern hick roots are showing.) His eyes crept up her soft arms and shoulders.

"I'm surprised they don't make you wear roller skates with this car-hop outfit," he briefly imagined fucking her on roller skates.

"Very funny. Don't give the boss any ideas!" she quipped. "What'll you have?"

"What's the special?" he asked her.

Her big brown eyes twinkled, "Everything's pretty special here, mister."

"In that case..." he leaned over the counter. "...I'll eat whatever you bring me," Ziggy whispered provocatively.

"ooo. Aren't we brave..." Cass drew an arcane symbol on her note pad. "Dishwater and stewed beets, coming up!"

She read the painted scrawl on his ridiculous hat, "What's...'Mumbo Jumbo'?"

"It's a cult of crazy sex maniacs," he said nonchalantly.

"OOOOOOooooo!!!! Do tell! Can I join?!" she almost seemed to quiver with delight. Was she being sarcastic? Was his cock getting hard? He was digging this chic.

The truth be told, Cassandra Lynn Clark, age 24, size 32 b tits, poet, waitress, James Brown fan, and nymphomaniac... was digging the fuck out of him as well.

She leaned over the counter and whispered something in his ear. Her breath, warm and damp. She smelled like apricots and french fries. Her shirt gapped and his peeping eyes zoned in on the corner of a pink bra strapped tight against her creamy caucasian chest. But he couldn't make out a single damn word she said because all he could hear was that weird sound again.

Like a hundred clicking feet from a cosmic swarm of millipedes tap dancing on a sandpaper sidewalk. Then there was a swooping rush inside an aluminum tunnel only it throbbed like drumbeats. What was going on? Was he having flashbacks? He hadn't done acid in years.

*pppzzz!* Cass tore the ticket from her order pad and spun around... (ass: sexy. spankable. squeezable. bubble butt. yum yum.)

"Boris! ORDER UP!" she shouted. *ding*

Boris gave a dark menacing scowl over the order counter. Boris... villainous fry cook. Outlaw. Bad dude with a spatula. Ziggy made a mental note: do not complain about the food.

A boy in a green jacket bicycled past the window. A tough looking dude with a pony-tail smoked a cigarette. An old lady sank her dentures into a chicken leg.

Raging Ragina floated out, balancing a stacked and steaming lunch tray. Once again, her icy stare met Ziggy's pondering eyes. Her face seemed to flicker between laziness and intensity. Ziggy thought her teeth were kinda big but everything else about her was fuckable to the 100th degree.

Ragina knew she was sexy. Maybe it was her lightly tanned skin or her perfectly buoyant bosom, her honey blonde hair or her tight ass, the way she wore her makeup or just the look in her eye... but something about Ludy's waitress, Raging Ragina Courtright, broadcasted "Fuck. Me. Now."

The Wisconsin survivalists men's club or whoever the hell they were, began passing hot food as Ragina balanced and tip toed around them. One of the men was brushing the back of her thigh. Another man patted her on the bottom. Apparently the local boy scouts were friendly.

Cass smiled and poured Ziggy a mug of coffee.

"Want me to put some cream in it?" she asked.

Ziggy nodded "...yes. With sugar and innuendo please."

To his surprise, Cass stuck her finger in his mug and swirled the cream and sugar. He was pretty sure this was a health code violation. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to complain to the management. With seductive grace she licked her slender finger and popped it into her mouth sliding it between her pursed lips.

"mmmm... just right," she said.

Ziggy got a warm fuzzy feeling. His penis began to swell. He wanted to say, "Get down here and suck off this fucking cock right now, right here, you fuckable fantasy toy. Get on your knees and load my meat in your mouth right here where I'm sitting on this stool and let me cum all over your face in front of all these people." Well, at least that's what he WANTED to say.

Instead, Ziggy just said, "Better be hot enough."

"Just try it and see," Then she flashed him her panties. Just for a second. She took her little blue skirt up in one of her little tight fists and innocently pulled the fabric over her hip. His brain took a picture of her creamy curving thighs and a swatch of pink cotton panty stretched over her crotch and strung around her hips.

She backed away. One saddle shoe step at a time. She disappeared behind the swinging doors with a look of satisfaction on her face.

Ziggy could hardly believe it. This was the best lunch he'd ever had. His cock was swelling. His hormones were surging. His belly was growling.

Over in the window booth, Ragina was waiting on a business man (slick hair, sharp tie). She picked up his milkshake and sipped it. Then put it back on the table.

Sarah (the dynamite red-head with glasses) was passing out menus to a booth of teenage boys.

Ragina laughed and twirled her hair. The businessman's wife (heavy makeup, flashy jewelry) said something to Ragina. Ragina put her foot on the seat and turned out her thigh, slowly lifting up her skirt. The businessman nodded with pleasure.

Ziggy looked around. Was anybody else watching this?!!

Sarah was running her fingers through one of the boy's hair. The boys were laughing and encouraging her to join them. So, Sarah slid into the booth next to them. Her skinny white legs stuck out in the isle. She took the boy's hand and slid it to her tit. He squeezed it. She reached between the boy's legs under the table. A boy from the other side of the booth swung over to her side and sandwiched her in the middle. There were shouts and laughs from the booth but all that could be seen of Sarah was her skinny legs and saddle shoes sticking out in the isle. The booth of teenage hormone had swallowed her up and was greedily exploring her body.

He heard a woman at the counter say, "I wonder if the eggs come with toast."

Across the diner, Ragina giggled. The businessman leaned forward and reached out his hand. Ziggy couldn't see him doing it, but he was sure this guy was rubbing Ragina's pussy. Her hips swiveled and rocked back and forth.

Not only was the guy's wife watching, she was instructing him! She pointed and told him he was doing it wrong and that he should, "Use your thumb more, dear. That's right Dean, little circles. Now not so fast... that's it. You got it. See, she likes it!"

Ragina gasped and bit her quivering lip.

A fat man wiped pie from his fat face.

Ragina tossed her head back and gave Ziggy an eerie stare. She held a hot pot of coffee in one hand and held her skirt up with the other as the red faced man worked his sizzling fingers over her cunt.

A thousand subways took off in Ziggy's ears. The thumping of giants beat the hell out of his cranium and he pressed his fists into his forehead. There was a crushing darkness weighing down on him.

--------------------------

PART 2

Then the signal shut off; the roaring dimmed to a faint ring. He slowly lifted his head. His blurry eyes tried to focus. A green shape flew by the window.

"Man!" he shook his head and stared into his coffee. "I can do without the fucking sudden implosion of my mother fucking brain!" Maybe he smoked too much pot last night.

What was going on here? Did nobody else in this place find anything odd, unusual, offensive, etc. about the VERY forward, albeit, friendly behavior of the young ladies that worked in this establishment?

Ziggy imagined writing a restaurant review for this place. "The wait staff was extremely accommodating. I didn't eat much but I certainly enjoyed the sauces."

"I've died. I've died and gone to heaven..." sang the juke box. Bubbles began to fall from the ceiling.

"O.K." Ziggy sat very still. "Shit's gett'n weird now."

Sitting next to him at the counter, a disheveled man with wild hair slurped his coffee. He had a woody funk and beady eyes that were strangely calm. His skin looked very dry and pealy and pink.

Cass slid a monster cheeseburger in front of Ziggy.

"What, no Kao Pao Thai today?" Ziggy chided.

"Take it or leave it," Cass pouted.

"Why are there bubbles floating around in here?" Ziggy asked suspiciously.

"Ludy thinks it adds 'atmosphere'. It's pretty fucking Lawrence Welk if you ask me," said Cass.

"Wow..." Ziggy's eyes bulged, "this is a mega-burger."

"Hope you like meat," Cass said.

"Aaahh... I'm a bigger fan of the cheese. This better have special Wisconsin cheese on it," Ziggy teased.

"If it's cheese you want, you can edam my gouda as mozzarella as you like," she invited.

"Mmmm... I'll munster your fontina until you scream 'Asiago!'," he replied.

"Hear that Mister Robert," Cass laughed and poured woody-funk man another cup of coffee. "This guy here is a baaad boy. He wants to fuck me."

Woody-funk man turned to Ziggy and blinked his quiet beady eyes, "Really? All the bad boys and girls find their way to Ludy's, don't they now?" he said in a low voice.

"You should get yourself a lunch card," Woody-funk man fished around in his wallet and took out a paper card and proudly showed it to Ziggy.

Ziggy read the card, "Buy 5 Lunches at Ludy's and a waitress will jerk you off!" Mr. Robert had 3 punches.

"...uh... cool," said Ziggy. He gave him a perplexed smile. Was somebody having a joke on him? Had he stumbled into a cafe or a whore-house? He had to get some straight answers.

"You really give hand-jobs here?" he asked Cass.

"Well... What do you think? Do we?" she asked.

"I don't know. Do you? That's what I'm asking," he stammered.

"Sure. Yeah. We give hand-jobs. We also give blow jobs," she leaned over the counter and slid her finger over his tense neck.

"We have gangbangs... orgies," she spread her hand over his chest. His heart was thundering against its cage.

"Lots and lots of hot... sloppy... nasty... fucking... whatever. It all goes down at Ludy's. Nothing that a 'sex cult maniac' hasn't seen before, I'm sure," her eyes were chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

"It's no big deal," she started refilling phallic little salt shakers, "Ludy has a very simple philosophy. Libido and appetite go hand in hand. The hornier he keeps his customers, the more food they'll eat. If I were you," she leaned in close, "I'd try not to think about things too much, listen to your cravings," she pressed her pouty lips to his mouth and *kiss*...whoa! slipped him her pink minty tongue.

What a kisser! Their tongues danced in each other's mouth. Ziggy sucked her tongue. He wanted to swallow her spit. He wanted to slurp the sex from her pussy. He wanted to suck milk from her tits. He wanted to...

She broke off the kiss and bit his lower lip. "Eat your cheeseburger," she winked and headed back to the kitchen.

Oh mountainous cheeseburger. He picked at it. Where our fates do collide... If you are half as tasty as yonder fair waitress, my tummy shall be much obliged.

Then he remembered that he'd been handling the boa constrictor earlier that morning and he should really wash his hands before eating. Besides, it was his custom to always inspect the cleanliness of the men's room before dining at an establishment.

"Hey man, don't let nobody eat my cheeseburger, I'll be right back," he said to Mr. Robert Woody-funk man.

Ziggy cruised toward the men's room. Weaving about in a sea of dinertopia. He was feeling euphoric from Cass's kiss.