The story you are about to read pertains to a writer searching for answers to support his quest for a better life. Future he so desperately seeks, as he tours the high seas and stumbles onto a beautiful witch with many powers and personalities that lures the main character in this story into a web of deceit. Then beginning her own quest for freedom once she escapes these trials and tribulations as a vicious panther.
"Stan, what's the matter with you? Peter said. "Why the sour look on your face Stanley?" Peter adds, tipping his half glass of beer to his chapped dry lips.
"I just came in from the frigid outdoors, Peter," said Stan, dusting off the snow.
"Damn, still snowing out there?"
"You better believe it is," Stan said, eyeballing the room and clutching his loins with one hand.
"Sid. Who's the new waitress?" asks Stan, still studying the new girl with a hunger in his shifty eye.
"A Girl that came in this morning looking for a job Stanley. And I hired her right away for obvious reasons," spoke Sid, towns favorite bartender. "Figured she would attract more folks to my tavern." Both looking over her body as though she was some sex object that was wiping down the tables with a modest waggle.
Stan begins feasting his lustful eyes along the scattered three-piece suits, short skirts, and long dresses occupying each romantic booth along the four walls of the shiny aluminum foil. Each table neatly placed below the strobe lights, high overhead to slowly rotate before these young couples seated.
Stanley was amongst his friends at the crowed bar to hear more war stories that his elderly friend drums-up each time Stan comes into Sid's bar. Just as he saw his book publishing agent staring down the girl with a certain gleam in one eye.
"Hey, I pay you well Peter...my agent aren't you?" Stanley exclaims, tipping the glass to his blistered lips.
"Yes! But why are you pissed off at me?" cries Peter.
"Then keep your eyes to yourself before they fall into your lap and drop and roll down the middle of the floor," Stan scolds, with a huge giggle, as though Nancy was his.
"It must be at least 30 degrees out there," spoke Sid, obese bartender with a curled up mustache and gray hair.
"Hell yes," answered Stanley, still shedding the wet snow from his tight blue britches.
"What's her name big guy...she single...'cause she sure is pretty," asks Stan.
"I agree, she is pretty," Peter turned and said late. Trying to get back on Stan's good side after he had struck a nerve in Stanley a few moments ago.
Both Sid and Stanley stares down Peter at the end of the marble bar counter with an astounding shake of their head, thinking what kind of drug Peter is on that makes him seems stupid at times.
"Nancy," Sid replies. "At least that is what the application reads."
"She's definitely a babe," says Stan, with one hand grasping hard his loins in front.
"Wish I had someone like Nancy to keep me warm at nights, Stanley," said Peter. Teasing his thick mustache with two fingers as the entire counter took notice of the frail man's lust.
"Yes Peter," said Stan, Wondering what silly question is going to spill from his mouth now.
"I simply can't find the time to enjoy life with all my clients breathing down my neck, beating down my front door, insisting I bleed the publishing companies dry, Stan buddy," Peter cries, too, scanning the young woman along with Sid and Stanley.
Stan continues to wipe the remaining snow from his black overcoat, stomping the moisture from his galoshes as he motions with his head for the bartender to put together another Gin & Tonic as his eyes are set on Nancy.
"When are you leaving, my friend?" Peter asks, allowing everyone in the joint to hear, witness the slurring pattern in his voice that had everyone in the tavern laughing to his drunken lisp.
A brief pause fell over Stanley's answer of tomorrow when he became a bit tense.
"I am leaving tomorrow morning Peter." Staring down this cute sexy server handling the circular tray with professionalism and greeting each customer with politeness. Heavy bosoms seeping out from the skimpy blue costume that sparkles with every gallant sway that Sid had given her to wear to attract more customers.
"Mum yeah," Stan says under his breath, "I must touch your panty that of which is shiny silver," he adds, using only eye contact to lure Nancy's eyes his way.
Studying Nancy's perfect measurements again in his mind was helping Stan's self-esteem along.
"I got to have you," Stanley says using only his lips, "Your beautiful," he adds, convincing his friends she was not that great looking.
Stanley watches with his lustful eyes, seeing Nancy Leaning further over the table, which leaves him breathless. Clearing off the many glasses and empty bottles left behind by previous customers that Nancy wasn't exactly fond of with their rude remarks. Then Realizing the well dressed and distinguished stud was observing her fine buttock from the marble bar and marvelous vibes rushing through her petite silver thong that, too, matches the outside of her costume perfectly.
"OH, you look good too my darling," Replies Nancy, with a certain look in her eyes, gleam in her cat-like pupils. "I want to touch you all over, Stan," she adds, with a long drawn out purr across the room. Urging him to enter her warm vagina as her head turns ever so gracefully again towards his rising sex machine that is very much exhausting her brain cells with wild ambitions.
"Care for another Stanley?" Sid said, wiping the counter off for a third time. Interrupting Stan's concentration.
"Hey, did you say something Sid?" replies Stanley.
Sid giggles to himself and says. "I asked if you needed another drink before I close-up shop," saying sharply. "I know you're preoccupied with my new employee though," he smiles, wiping the same spot on the counter he had just cleaned.
All three were wearing their lustful eyes. When Sid jerks his thick neck, nearly sprains it, to another dear friend of there's coming in from the cold.
"Shit Ralph close the door, burr!" said shouts, rubbing his broad forearms together.
"You born in a barn!" Shouts Peter, shifting his eyes back to Nancy's fine buttock, like he did when he first walked in and noticed the hired help.
"Damn, she looks great!" says Ralph, taking his place at the end of the bar, hands rubbing delicately his loins. "I could love her like my own wife," he adds, looking down the bar as if looking for some kind of reaction from his friends.
"You still want a refill Stanley?" Sid said, tossing the damp cloth back over his broad shoulder.
"Yes please," Stanley, said, tipping the tiny glass vastly to his soft lips. Then observes everything about Nancy through the bottom of his empty glass. Panting, burning for her with each tender gulp of the fresh glass of liquor Sid had just poured him.
Suddenly she smiles that smile, sweetly. Winking slowly her curled up lashes that was now batting fast. Punishing the young man's heart and soul the longer he studies her mysterious eyes that are revolving in Stanley's head. Like a giant vortex, with two beady eyes, directly in the center of the attention.
"What's her name Sid?" Ralph mutters, admiring his beastly manhood at a glance. "So, what is her name my friend!" shouts Ralph.
"Her name is Nancy Ralph!" he said with a pause. "She's my new hired gal buddy," Sid adds sarcastically.
"Hey! Snap out of this trance," Sid shouts softly, snapping his huge fingers in front of Stanley's eyes. Watching the minute's ticking away as this, the celebration is about to commence.
"Ah...what!" Stan was quick to say. "Why are you all looking at me this way for?"
Stanley's eyes continue to roam, examine Nancy's stimulating rump seeping out from her cute panty. "Oh my god, your the perfect picture and specimen-Why thank you Stanley darling," Nancy was quick to interrupt, spinning faster inside the invisible vortex. Both realizing Nancy's buttock was in dire need of being caressed by a set of strong male hands that reaches out and touches each one. Then quickly the vision vanishes.
"Stanley! I hear your going to the Virgin Islands." A stern voice says from behind Stan, leaning on Peter's shoulder, using it as a resting post while awaiting Stan's answer.
"Yes George I shove off tomorrow to enter the great sea that awaits me," he said, wiping the saliva from his dry lips that were chapped badly from the vision Stanley just had.
"What happened to that young gal you were with?" Sighed Stan. "Did she dump you?"
"NO," George shouted, with a bold frown on his face. "She simply had to go home," he replies, with more sarcasm on his breath.
"Yes George," he replies, feeling the old timers rude hands grasping tighter his frail young shoulders, revenging Stan for that comment he had made a few minutes ago about his gal.
"Just watch yourself," George says softly.
Glancing slowly back over his feeble shoulder to Nancy," whispering. "She's a evil child Stanley!"
"No way!" Stan replied, looking directly into the large misty mirror that was covered in smoke. "There's no chance in hell Nancy is an evil child," he adds, studying her beauty from the looking glass, of such enormous passion in her eyes.
"I am telling you the truth as a friend," George says, trying to steady the glass in his right hand.
Shaking a bit more before hoisting his glass to his wrinkled pale face then retrieving his teeth from the bottom of the glass as the entire counter fills with laughter when Ralph got up to sit closer to this lovely woman everyone at the bar counter was talking about.
"Please, excuse me," said Ralph, staggering recklessly to a front table to gain a better view of Nancy's fabulous utters and near nude ass.
"Mum, you're a finely tuned woman, Nancy," Ralph says, adjacent the table where Nancy was serving a couple some drinks. Admiring everything about Nancy when this security guard at a local bank says. "Will you come home with me?" with a slur.
"No, I don't wish to mister," Nancy replies with a bold snarl, feeling Ralph's smooth hands up under her skirt, and caressing between the thin nylon strap of her sexy and sinful thong.
"For the forth time...NO!" she scolds. "And keep your filthy paws off my silky drawers...you FREAK!" Then slaps away Ralph's hands from going any further.
"She's got spunk, doesn't she?" Sid said, from a safe distance.
Nancy felt obligated to only one man. A handsome young man, Stanley, continuing to prey and stalk her succulent body along with Ralph's persistent annoying comments of how he would treat her like a queen, a princess, before he would making love to her.
Nancy was becoming very obnoxious with the man insisting on going to bed with her. Annoying her to the point of making him cease these persistent attempts to gain her love out of disrespect, which she knows soon had to be stopped at once before this identity would rapidly surface before it's time to be revealed.
Suddenly the room grew silent, calm, once Ralph's eyes met and wept out of control to something so powerful and rare. Witnessing this wrath of terror when his eyes capture her long pointy nails, sharpen ears and fangs that of a rare breed that of large beady-eyed cat that leaps onto his lap. "Now that's more like it," Ralph cried. Hands buried under Nancy's skirt that is suddenly filled with blood from the razor sharp blades.
"Oh no! What are you doing?" shouts Ralph. "Come on people, help me!" he adds, almost sobering up.
"No one can see nor hear you yea bloody bastard!" Half woman, half beast, shouts out to the elderly man. Placing a transparent like dome over George's head as not to give away her true identity.
This once adorable creature intimated Ralph's eyes when she made love to him. After tearing off his skirt and trousers, sinking her long fangs into the sides of his neck and with a quick jerk tore open his flesh and begins to feast upon his battered throat while romping on his, manhood, until she can feel him climaxing deep inside her.
"There. Are you satisfied now," blurting out, examining the large puddle of blood on the floor. "Now I must get rid of the evidence," she said twitching her lovely nose as her body is restored and Ralph, sentenced to a pile of salt that Nancy blew harshly from the soft cushion seat.
After her body had been fully rejuvenated into a beautiful woman again, she bats an eye and the tiny tavern was restored as though nothing had ever happened. Conversations begun again and the ogling of her gorgeous body was also being denied by a spell she had planted in the minds of each man that had stalked her shortened dress that Sid had designed especially for her.
"No Stanley, I did not wish this on you, so go ahead and stalk me all you want," said the lady, concentrating deeply.
"What?" Stanley utters; lip turned up as not knowing what these sounds are ringing in his head meant.
"Hey Sid, have you seen Ralph?" said Stanley, shaking his head as to rid the voices.
"No. He was sitting up front the last time I saw that drunken fool. Probably went home to get laid by his obese spouse," Sid replies, as everyone sitting at the bar busted out with laughter.
With the exception of this old timer, George, which seems to be aging vastly when he sought Nancy through the bottom of his wineglass. Where certain memories of a shy young girl, such as Nancy, made him nervous, enough to spill booze down the front of his shirt and urinate beyond control once her eyes felt the presence too.
George begun to feast his baby blues onto Nancy's hourglass frame with even more persistent vibes soaring along his weary bones, as he shivers once more. Burying his hand beneath his antique overcoat to his staggering heartbeats when he saw that smile of Yesteryear in Nancy's glowing red eyes.
"Just beware of that evil creature my good friend," George adds, lifting his hand free from his ticker that had cease it's vast pace to again admire and examine Nancy's rich long glistening jet-black hair. Fiery ass, and gorgeous blue eyes, which gleams like the moon to the roaring sea he once gazed upon when serving his country in the U.S. Navy as a navy seal.
"Hell George, you look like the walking dead, are you OK?" Stan says, steadying George's hand on the counter with one of his.
"Come on George, tell us another one of your war stories," spoke Sid.
"Yeah old timer, want to hear another one too," spouts Peter.
All three urging the old timer to share another horror story from his past that he possesses deep within his weary soul, while more visions of Nancy fell into place on that uncharted island. So many years ago, when George felt weak and the powers of Nancy's eye insisting that he stop with these war stories of he and she together.
"Hey George, why the gloom look?" said Peter.
"Come on guys I think we have heard enough of these tales to last us a life time, besides George doesn't look so good," Stan says, covering up for his deranged friend.
"Right old timer?" Stan adds, nodding his head.
"Yes, that's right youngster," he replies, fishing out his fake teeth from the bottom of the glass.
Rescuing his teeth from the near empty glass and quickly placing them carefully back into his mouth. Then realizes the power invested in this soul he sees is much stronger than he and all of his buddies rolled into one.
"No, I have to tell this story before I leave tonight," whispering, to those left that wanted to hear.
"What! Don't change the story now!" shout's Sid and Peter, leaning over the shiny counter to try to hear what George was saying about a certain witch.
George glances to the far table where Nancy was serving drinks when he could feel the powers and strength of her mighty eyes preying, probing his mind.
"I got to go," George shouts, as he scoots back his chair and storms out the door. Leaving his half-empty glass behind and knowing he too could be a victim of her strength and powerful eyes, knowing what had really existed when the room was silent with frozen people.
"Oh," Stanley utters, studying this peculiar look on George's face that was trying to tell him something that George could not just blurt out.
Thinking back to the dreadful island as the story he had begun to tell had meaning, weighing heavily on George's mind once he reaches the lagoon he'd once visited. Hoping his old friend made it to his squeaky steps of his large two-story estate. Half block down from tavern.
"Hey Peter, where you going?" asks Sid. "You know how George feels about you taking over his territory...his women!"
"Hell with George!" Peter says, with an intoxicated slur.
"OK, but if he comes back with his shotgun again, I don't want you to say a word," said Sid, chuckling.
"You keep bar tending and leave George to me," he said, nervously.
Peter remained with Becky at a booth just behind the twin doors of the entranceway. "Do you really love George, Becky?"
"Well, he is a nice old feeler," she says. "But I am excited by his large pea-shooter also," Becky adds, lofting a wink towards Sid, as Peter felt a bit ignored by this fat chick of George's visioning herself and George in his bedroom with the blinds drawn down.
"Are you okay Stan?" Muscle bound bartender says with utmost concern on his face.
"Yeah Stanley. Looking mighty pinked," spouts Peter.
"I am as fit as a fiddle," he replies, ignoring the fact that Nancy is about to expose her all back in the vortex he had climbed out of when his friends yells out his name.
Stanley hears in his head a story that George had begun to share with his dear friends. This experience on that uncharted Island as a navy seal. Tide washing him to shore and staggering through the jungle of exotic trees and vegetation that does not exist anywhere else and never discovered by man.
Searching for his evening meal along the blue shrubs, purple trees, and giant fish so large and green that refuses to be indulged by George.
A young girl dressed in all black leaps out of no where, giggling with her hands placed along her pale white face, which sent shivers down the once young man's spine and speaks in native tongue that he could barely make out. Speaking the English language backwards as he later came to realize his soldiers on the ship were lost at sea, by not any accident.
"I am starting to believe you George," Stan says. Then goes on hearing the rest of his tale before vanishing outside to the dropping temperature that is extremely cold.
Fierce storm that had sunk the large vessel "Lady Luck" and thousand's of more of his brave men had died. Spell this pretty but witty girl had caused by a suttee wink of one precious eye, rescuing him from the quiet but somewhat altered lagoon that felt the presence of a total stranger disturbing the calm water, and scattering of autumn leaves that had fallen from the colorful exotic trees. Dragging George's youth and already weaken body under. Submitting his wiry soul to the strong ivy that had yearn to destroy him in order to keep the island safe from anymore intruders that might come in contact with George once he strays from the sacred islands. Until this, master of the dreaded islands rescues him from the spiral ivy, vegetation wrapping, covering, and his entire carcass at the bottom of the deep lagoon.
"Wow!" said Stanley, dragging his weary eyes across the positive aspect, clearing off another table. Before he listens in his head more of his friends' story.
After six long months of captivity with very little food and water, George was found lying for dead with beautiful yellow buzzards high overhead and swarming in circles. Waiting him to breath his last gasp of air by a group of tribal savages along the shore where they sent him back to sea in a man made vessel, made from the finest bamboo to aid him in his quest, escape to freedom.