HotKittygirl
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2008
- Posts
- 1,584
It was a wet, chilly night outside. The rain had been constant until the sun dipped behind the skyline, turning into a light annoying drizzle that promised to remain for some time. It left the streets slick and gleaming, the lights from the passing cars and street lights casting a luminous glow even from the concrete. The hot pink neon light of a nearby sign flashed on the ugly ground, disappearing briefly under the occasional shoe before returning with all its intensity. The image of a fat, happy cat pawing at itself hummed lowly as if it were purring, its neon whiskers twitching up and down again and again. The bright sign hung over a plan metal door, scuff marks and old half ripped off stickers and signs marring its surface. Now and then it would open, either from the inside or when someone approached it through the hazy darkness.
‘The Cat’s Whiskers’, the club was called, at least that was what everyone who knew about it called it. The name was cliche, but so was the sign; though no one within seemed to mind. It catered to a special kind of people, those on the outside of normal society, the type that made old ladies clutch their hand bags a little tighter and a holy man to whisper a pray. For the most part those fears were simply conjured up by the person’s own imagination, but that was bigotry for you. That in itself was one of the many reasons that The Whiskers even existed, it served as a place to get away from those accusing eyes and relax with like minded people.
But just what kind of people did the club cater to?
It was just another fad, some people called it, another wave of body modification that swept over the youth of the country. Like tattoos, body piercings, body modifications, even sex changes, it was a way of expressing ones self for all to see. Yet it was on the genetic level that people were now changing themselves, or at least had the option to. It had many names for it on the street, going primal, enhancing, but it all meant the same. Gene splicing and genetic manipulation had taken incredible steps in progress over the years and now people could change their fundamental makeup with nothing but a choice and a valid credit card.
The idea was revolting and blasphemous to many, just another thing to go to hell over. The majority of society saw it nothing but a novelty at best, or ruinous to the soul at worst. Regardless, many disenfranchised youths flocked to have it done. Manipulating one’s self in such a fundamental way was not without risk though, still many found the chance of “freeing” themselves outweighed the risk.
Joane was one of the few, though she more often went by the simple name Jo. Once she had been an human woman, though for several months now she was something much more. The level of ‘enhancing’ was left up to the buyer and there were several varying levels to chose from. Some went for minor cosmetic changes that left them relatively normal in appearance, of course there was the complete opposite. Jo had opted for the minor level herself, just a few tweaks had been enough to create a drastic change in the woman.
She was still young, her frame slender and svelte, toned like that of a runner or dancer. Her bosom was modest yet ample, the curve of her hip sleek. She had proud shoulders and typically sat with her back straight offering a most regal appearance. She had an angular visage, her jawline sharp and ending in a curved point. Her lips were plush and her mouth wide, though she had a nasty habit of nibbling her bottom lip or scrunching up her lips as she thought. Those eyes were perhaps one of her more stunning of features, a deep and piercing blue that easily captured her emotion. Many a man and woman had lost themselves gazing into those sapphire depths, much to the woman’s ire.
Her hair was a wild mop of jet black, truly wild and untamed even after she combed it. It was cropped short, though her bangs reached down to her chin. The most curious feature of all was the pair of triangular feline like ears that jutted forth from her hair, the short fur covering them the same color as her hair. A matching tail, thick and black swaying behind her, occasionally thumping against the ground or her leg. She even had slightly elongated fangs, though they were only seen if she smiled in earnest. The changes were subtle compared to some, yet still played a striking and exotic nature to her pale, slender beauty.
Her attire consisted of a pair of baggy, faded jeans cinched low on her hips, enough to let her tail poke freely through unrestricted and a black t-shirt. Jo was never one for high fashion let alone copious amounts of makeup, just enough to accent her features. She sat at her normal stool at the island bar, the thumping of the music and the drone of the people about her lost to the woman as her blue gaze drifted over the page of her book. She was here waiting, more often than not, but tonight it was for someone and not just an expectant moment. Jo waited for the other woman in her life, the one that she had met in this very club, on this very stool. It wasn’t the most romantic of stories, a spilled beer all but drenched her and Jo apologized profusely, yet it had been enough of an ice breaker. Now it had been several months of a rather swift and curious relationship. Jo lost herself in her book, a way to steady her nerves and get her mind off of just what lay in store.
‘The Cat’s Whiskers’, the club was called, at least that was what everyone who knew about it called it. The name was cliche, but so was the sign; though no one within seemed to mind. It catered to a special kind of people, those on the outside of normal society, the type that made old ladies clutch their hand bags a little tighter and a holy man to whisper a pray. For the most part those fears were simply conjured up by the person’s own imagination, but that was bigotry for you. That in itself was one of the many reasons that The Whiskers even existed, it served as a place to get away from those accusing eyes and relax with like minded people.
But just what kind of people did the club cater to?
It was just another fad, some people called it, another wave of body modification that swept over the youth of the country. Like tattoos, body piercings, body modifications, even sex changes, it was a way of expressing ones self for all to see. Yet it was on the genetic level that people were now changing themselves, or at least had the option to. It had many names for it on the street, going primal, enhancing, but it all meant the same. Gene splicing and genetic manipulation had taken incredible steps in progress over the years and now people could change their fundamental makeup with nothing but a choice and a valid credit card.
The idea was revolting and blasphemous to many, just another thing to go to hell over. The majority of society saw it nothing but a novelty at best, or ruinous to the soul at worst. Regardless, many disenfranchised youths flocked to have it done. Manipulating one’s self in such a fundamental way was not without risk though, still many found the chance of “freeing” themselves outweighed the risk.
Joane was one of the few, though she more often went by the simple name Jo. Once she had been an human woman, though for several months now she was something much more. The level of ‘enhancing’ was left up to the buyer and there were several varying levels to chose from. Some went for minor cosmetic changes that left them relatively normal in appearance, of course there was the complete opposite. Jo had opted for the minor level herself, just a few tweaks had been enough to create a drastic change in the woman.
She was still young, her frame slender and svelte, toned like that of a runner or dancer. Her bosom was modest yet ample, the curve of her hip sleek. She had proud shoulders and typically sat with her back straight offering a most regal appearance. She had an angular visage, her jawline sharp and ending in a curved point. Her lips were plush and her mouth wide, though she had a nasty habit of nibbling her bottom lip or scrunching up her lips as she thought. Those eyes were perhaps one of her more stunning of features, a deep and piercing blue that easily captured her emotion. Many a man and woman had lost themselves gazing into those sapphire depths, much to the woman’s ire.
Her hair was a wild mop of jet black, truly wild and untamed even after she combed it. It was cropped short, though her bangs reached down to her chin. The most curious feature of all was the pair of triangular feline like ears that jutted forth from her hair, the short fur covering them the same color as her hair. A matching tail, thick and black swaying behind her, occasionally thumping against the ground or her leg. She even had slightly elongated fangs, though they were only seen if she smiled in earnest. The changes were subtle compared to some, yet still played a striking and exotic nature to her pale, slender beauty.
Her attire consisted of a pair of baggy, faded jeans cinched low on her hips, enough to let her tail poke freely through unrestricted and a black t-shirt. Jo was never one for high fashion let alone copious amounts of makeup, just enough to accent her features. She sat at her normal stool at the island bar, the thumping of the music and the drone of the people about her lost to the woman as her blue gaze drifted over the page of her book. She was here waiting, more often than not, but tonight it was for someone and not just an expectant moment. Jo waited for the other woman in her life, the one that she had met in this very club, on this very stool. It wasn’t the most romantic of stories, a spilled beer all but drenched her and Jo apologized profusely, yet it had been enough of an ice breaker. Now it had been several months of a rather swift and curious relationship. Jo lost herself in her book, a way to steady her nerves and get her mind off of just what lay in store.