Ruffles' Side Jobs Ch. 02: 'Hugo

A glistening string of drool breaks as Ruffles pulls her face away from the rigid wooden crate she was sleeping on, letting out a soft yawn as her tiny mouth stretched wide, showing off two rows of sharp, pointy teeth. She rubs her lightly freckled face and brushes the carmine hair from her eyes, slowly opening them to look around at her surroundings. The poor girl had barely realised she'd fallen asleep in the first place, waking up a little confused. She swipes at her face with her wrist, wiping away the saliva from the corner of her mouth. As her eyes adjust to the sun, her cognitive functions slowly fire on one by one, and the memories of last night re-enter her foggy mind, one (literally) shining through throughout -- Her gold coin! Scrambling around her, she leaps off the little crate she was curled up on top of, finding it underneath where she lay. Snatching it cannily and holding it towards her chest, she lets out a short sigh of relief, though her face grew red as she felt a breeze under her legs -- The tear in her pants from yesterday's misadventure.

Yelping as she covers her exposed behind, the two-toned, threadbare leggings having ripped in a way that had most of her green derriere on show. she prayed to the few gods she could name that nobody peeked at her while she was sleeping. The alley she ended up in was luckily out of harm's way - In-between two brick buildings, it was a little storage quad, with wooden crates of various sizes likely holding materials for the building behind it. Two huge doors of corrugated iron shut off the rest of the warehouse, however, the site appeared to be empty for the day. Making sure there was nobody immediately around her, she slowly pulls her little hands away from her cushiony ass, remaining embarrassed at her situation regardless. Ruffles mostly remembers being in a state before she drifted off -- One frenzied, frustrated, and... Horny.

She gradually recollects the events of yesterday's street show -- Guitar, a stray nail, ripped pants, public nudity, sexy dancing, and then... Oh. Her face reaches a brighter shade of red as she cowers her face in her hands, the cold gold coin flat against her forehead reminding her that despite the fact she ended up as a glorified gloryhole, this was her most profitable job yet. Pulling her hands away to look at her coin, she can't help but feel incredibly conflicted. Pushing these thoughts into the back of her mind, she picks up her guitar that lay securely against another nearby crate -- A few more scratches, but compared to the rest of the battered instrument it was almost unnoticeable. A quick strum showed it was in decent enough condition, and she hauled it onto her back with the strap, thinking it would provide some cover for her clothing malfunction. Unfortunately, the guitar lays on her back sideways at her lower back. Though huge in comparison to the roughly four-foot goblin, it fails to provide any valid protection, her enormous, freckled ass on full display.

With fragile confidence she storms ahead, only distracting herself by the thought of her newfound riches and what to spend it on. Food? Maybe a new guitar? New clothes seem like an obvious choice at this point, but she'd grown attached to her outfit at this point, as much a part of her stage persona as her 'bubbly personality', and would much prefer to sew it all up. Her cheeks bounce heftily as she thoughtfully moves one foot in front of the other, swaying her hips in a hurried gait, a common mannerism in goblins to catch up to their taller peers. Her speed walk doesn't exactly draw attention away from her, with her huge tits bouncing in the tight tied top that barely covered them, jaunting back out into the main street she had performed at last. Spyt was a somewhat vertical town, Ruffles having to navigate different sets of steep stairs, travelling across bridges that pass through the winding canal system built as the foundation of the city's architecture.

Her distraction from the obvious would only last so long, however, with the gold coin firmly latched in her hand becoming more of an afterthought as people turn to look at her. She can't help but pass several upstanding Spyt citizens, some up to two times as tall as her. They look down at the thick gob like she was a piece of meat, prey for them to catch. She was partly terrified, but at the same time her newfound exhibitionist streak made it particularly hard to concentrate on finding her way to the shop she had in mind. A warm red washes over her otherwise green complexion, blushing uncontrollably. She'd barely gotten any release from the last night's tension, being edged and teased by her fans the whole time. Ruffles notices just how pent up she's feeling, and the thin piece of silk fabric covering the front portion of her pussy grows visibly damp, soaking the blue and red fabric.

Sweating a little, a hot flush washes over her, and she can't help but glance to those who pass by her. Her eyes widen especially when she notices one of the workers at the show yesterday, one who happened to work for her good friend Gloria. A Vontaan -- Tall, grey-skinned humanoid, often considered a goblin's bigger cousin, with long ears and sharper teeth to match, but far more angular, sharp features. Most had flatter noses than humans, though this particular man's snout was upturned, resembling a pig. He gave Ruffles a knowing smile, a smirk that showed off a couple of his sharper ivories.

"Looks like you survived that mess last night, huh? You looked like you were havin' the time of your life." He teases, looking down at the almost crotch-height gremlin beneath, getting uncomfortably close to her as she looks up timidly. She gulps, trying to sheepishly laugh it off.

"Y-Yep! I even got a shiny gold coin for it, but, um..." She struggles, barely able to find the right words. The goblin turns her head, trying to shimmy past, but as she does he squats and swats her bare ass. She yelps unexpectedly, looking back as he laughs cruelly, the rough callous of his hands adding an extra bit of sting.

"I like the new look. It's like I could just do whatever I want with you." He chuckles, groping her cheek harshly. She lets out a gasp in reply, twitchily looking about in misery, watching those watching her, a mixture of disgust and amusement on their faces. He unabashedly slips his middle fingers under the torn fabric, pressing them directly against her coochie. "Ha! You're such a slut, Ruff, it's great. So easy to just-" He starts, sliding his middle finger two knuckles deep.

Ruffles lets out a squeak -- Though she doesn't try and pull away. He looks up to her with a shameless face of wanting, like he could just pick her up and carry her with him, a similar lust in his eyes to how she was stared at the evening before. It scared her, slightly, but aroused her at the same time. She bites down on her soft lip, hindering a moan, before she mutters a soft "Stop...".

The Vontaan, shakes his head. "Oh come on, you don't think I know you're walking around like this to be used?" He asks, severely overestimating Ruffles' situational awareness. His stockier friend shows up, an unkempt human male biting down on a thick sandwich wrapped in a piece of grease paper as he grins.

"Ish that Rufflsh?" He mumbles, the slightly thinner of the two nodding.

"She's just walkin' around with it all out!" The Vontaan replies with a mean-spirited joviality, reaching around her hip to stretch her cheeks wide to give his friend a view, revealing her big green donut and her sodden cunt. Ruffles practically whimpers as she's forced to bend, covering her face with her hands as if it would genuinely protect her from the outside world.

"Hey, I got an idea. We still got thirty minutes of lunch, right?" He suggests, the first man slowly guiding her towards a thinner alley alongside his thicker friend, with obvious and clear intent. Ruffles is exceptionally flustered, and can't help but allow herself to be walked by the two men, glancing to both of them and questioning if she was really about to do what she had assumed they planned for her. She's sat down on a little wood and iron bench, as the taller, better built worker unbuckles his belt, glancing to the side to make sure nobody was watching them. Ruffles can barely bring words to her mouth as this unfolds, a little confused with what exactly she wants here -- Sure, it wasn't her intention to parade around with her ass out like it was a free hole, but the situation she was in seemed surprisingly appealing. She was so sexually frustrated at this point she was about to snap, and as the first guy wrestles out his girthy shaft, she can't help but react in surprise.

"Well? Warm me up, girl, then I'll fuck you however you like." He starts, leaning his cock closer to her face. Hair at the base of his crotch was unkempt, and his long uncut cock waivered in front of her expectantly. She apprehensively leans forward, giving it a sniff first. It'd been a while since she was near one so closely, and as she takes in its virile scent, her mind continuing to race. She parts her lips slightly, edging further and further forward, the Vontaan standing over her looking down with frustrated expectancy, not appreciating her frigidity.

She raises her hand to grab it, her tiny digits dwarfed by his member, however she pauses just short. She thinks to herself -- Is this really what I want to be known for? She recoils with a moment of clarity, and shakes her head. "I... Um... I need to go!" She yells suddenly, leaping to her feet as she scurries away, both men staring confusedly.

"WHAT? WHERE!?" One yells, annoyedly fishing his dick back in his pants.

"I, UH, FORGOT BREAKFAST! YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, CAN'T LICK PENIS ON AN EMPTY STOMACH?" She yells back, her voice rising shakily as she blurts out the first excuse that came to her head -- Most of her mental machinations being scran-based. She rushes down a few more labyrinthine pathways, attempting to make some distance in case they decided to follow, now in a full sprint as her ass shakes rigorously. Not exactly a long-distance runner, she quickly exhausts herself, turning a corner with a slowed jog. She pants for air like a warm dog, though the guitar on her back didn't help, the unwieldy thing practically weighing a third of her body weight. She reaches a secluded set of stairs that run down into one of the less used canal ends. Walking down the mossy brick stairs carefully in her heeled boots, she reaches a dark underpass leading into an overgrown section of urban architecture, and an old, partially drained canal area with a small pool of water in the centre which grew deeper towards the main bod, and various bits of discarded furniture -- An old, dilapidated couch, a few crates, and half a horse carriage.

Completely out of breath and sweating heavily, she trudges over to the couch and plops herself down, the worn leather cooling her hot flesh at a touch. She's on fire, both physically and mentally, and as she sets her guitar down she spreads out. The arched bridge above was just ahead, though it was covered by high walls on either side. Sun shone down on the little crevasse between buildings. With her low standards this would have been a far better place to have spent the night, and while she had just slept for a good 11 or 12 hours, she could probably go for another quick nap after that whole escapade. She lodges her gold coin under the tight string of her guitar, firmly locked in a portion of the instrument's bridge. After closing her eyes for a few minutes, she realises she can't stop squirming. Her heart is beating still, and her little heat remains. Confident this was a fairly hidden area, out of the way even with the bridge above, she pulled the waistband of her tight leggings out with her thumb, creating a gap she slides her other hand down. Past down her fiery short hairs, she slips a finger inside herself, recreating some of the movements that were forced upon her earlier.

She starts slowly at first, easing herself into it, but after a few moments she kicks off her boots and strips off her torn pants so she can fully spread her legs. Untying her top and throwing it aside, she bathes in the sun's glow, nude, her entire curvy figure on display -- Not that her usual outfit allows much room for the imagination. She places a hand on one of her massive tits, squishing the soft, heavy flesh as she uses her right hand to massage her cunt, making a circular motion with her two middle fingers towards her clit. Every now and again she lets out little squeaks of pleasure, lost in the sensation as she lets her imagination wander, craving something more fulfilling. Her ass remains a little sore, but she remembers enjoying the sensation before, so she adjusts her position to have her ass up in the air, face down, with one of her lubed fingers reaching behind her back. She caresses the hole, warming it up, before slipping two of her fingers inside, squirming at the sensation. She continues to make cute little noises as she presses her face into the bouncy couch, but as the smell of smoke reaches her nose, she finds it difficult to concentrate on her movements.

She continues for a few minutes, assuming it was just another ambient smell of Spyt, but it was too strong to ignore. She pulls her fingers out with a wet plop, and leans up, only to see something that utterly stunned her. Ruffles' tits jiggle as she leans up into a kneeling position, only to be face to face with a tiny amphibian, crouching on the arm rest. It was a frog -- A cool green colour, only a little lighter than her own skin tone, with red-tipped, sticky fingers. It was roughly the size of a tea mug, but it sat there in a strangely human-like manner, smoking a half-burned cigarette in its mouth. Ruffles furrows her eyebrows in bewilderment at the smoking frog, leaning in slightly closer, broken from her trance.

"Nice Rack." It says, in a deep, textured voice, with an accent foreign to Spyt. Ruffles screams, scrambling back to the edge of the settee as she flails her feet, kicking the poor creature and sending it flying across the mossy concrete, making a pathetic plapping noise as it lands.

"NO!" Ruffles yells, feeling immediate regret as she rushes off the couch, treading carefully on the slippery ground, peering over towards the creature. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to! I swear! I didn't want to do- I just got scared- I, wait!" She yells out in a complete panic. She had no idea what the frog was, exactly, but she felt bad regardless, and the concept of taking a life of any kind was mortifying.

"Ough." The frog groans, clambering to his feet, standing on his hind legs in a semi-crouched position. He peers over to the cigarette, having been put out in a soggy bit of ground. "Ah, fuck, you know how hard these are to get a hold of when you look like me? And for the love of the gods, stop screaming. It'll take a lot more than that to kill ol' Hugo." He proclaims, his voice surprisingly powerful sounding for coming from such a little body. From this angle, Ruffles can see a small scar lining the frog's brow towards the back-centre of its head. By no means was it fresh, but to her it might as well have been.

"You're hurt! We need to get you to a hospital!" She yells, picking him up in her hands. He's fits snugly in her palms, though he struggles a little as if dizzy.

"A hospital? Are you fuckin' stupid? The hell are they gonna do with me?" He laughs, his chuckle gruff and grainy, almost wheezing. "I've just got a headache or somethin', don't worry about it. I could do with another ciggy, though." He says, pointing to a cigarette box inside a crate. Ruffles slowly walks over towards it, squatting down with Hugo in her hands, and picks one out. Inside the crate are various little furniture items -- A bed made from a matchbox, filled with scrap fabric -- A surgical scalpel that had been mounted on the wall like a soldier's sword, lengths of fishing wire, and a little metal cap that had been used as a stew pot. The frog had been living in this underpass for a while, it seems.

She picks up the cigarette and a flip-lighter that had been put in the box as a semi-permanent fixture, and lit it for the frog. "Um... Mr. Frog... If you don't mind me asking... What are you?" She inquires, sitting back down on the couch as she looks at the specimen, examining it closer as she peers around it from all angles.

"A fuckin' frog, obviously. Would it be too much to ask for you to rely on your own powers of observation? Maybe they're just little underdeveloped. Idiot." He starts, taking a puff. "Names' Hugo. I was human, but, uh, I've been cursed. Now I'm a fuckin' frog, and I'm pretty depressed about the idea." He grumbles, shaking his head. "Barely even get to talk to people. Most scream and run when they see me. Or they try to kill me. You're clearly the latter -- What are you, some kind of psycho midget?"

"I didn't try to kill you! I didn't mean it!" Ruffles yells defensively, genuine guilt on her face.

"Calm the fuck down, alright? I'm just playin with ya'. You remember your name?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as best as a frog's face can manage the expression.

"Ruffles! I'm a bard. I like food, adventure, and coins!" She explains, as Hugo rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I asked for the name, not the full story."

"So... Why are you here?" She asks, buzzing with questions.

"Assuming you're not asking me the big questions here, so I'll take you literally." He poses, taking a second to consider his past. "Used to be a pirate, down south in Louvra. Worked with a crew there for a while, hunting for some great treasure, but I found my own. Beautiful woman called Kattia - She's a powerful witch. Lesson one? Never date a fuckin' witch. Turns out she's a complete psycho. Cold -- Heartless, even, treated me like I was a goddamn lab rat, but, heh, the sex was pretty good. Can you blame a man for wanting a little more warmth in his love life? I loved her, but fuck if she didn't make it difficult. Caught me whorin' when we stopped by the capital after we found the actual treasure, but, uh, didn't appreciate it so much. Polymorphed me into a frog. Hopped from ship to ship here, just kinda roamin', I'd say lookin' for a cure, but you'd be surprised at how unwilling are to help me. I thought I was charmin' but apparently people think I'm 'creepy' and 'rotten.' What do they know?" He babbles, clearly having been preparing this for a while. It looked like he just got a lot of his chest, Ruffles was one of the only people he'd been able to hold a genuine conversation in a while.

"Yeah, what do they know!?" Ruffles cheers, blissfully unaware. "What is a polly morph?" She asks, Hugo waving her off in response.

"Transformation. One thing into another. Human to frog. Easy to grasp, yeah? You can just think of it as a curse." He explains.

"Oh! That's horrible! She sounds mean... But that doesn't mean cheating is right!" Ruffles continues, pointing sternly. She firmly tells him off, and Hugo chuckles.

"Yeah, well, it was complicated, you know? You wouldn't get it, it's a long story." He deflects, puffing some smoke out to the side again.

"But you're a real adventurer? That's amazing. You've really been to sea? With pirates?" She starts, mouth agape in awe. She seems to be impressed, only having met a few of his type in real life before, though those are circles she isn't exactly involved in. She's made many stories up in her song, however, most of them were very obviously fictional -- Eight-foot goblin heroines with ridiculous muscle, wrestling thought-extinct dragons to the ground with their bare hands.

"Sort of. Those days are long over, though, course I can barely hold a sword. Kept my skills sharp just in case, though, been training with a discarded surgical tool I found. I've killed so many rats, you have no idea. What the hell is up with you, anyway? You walked down here like you just fought for your life, and touched yourself like it was the last day of it. I thought you were gonna squirt all over the good half." He remarks, nodding towards the better-looking portion of the discarded sofa.