The Last Drop Tavern

Open Roads

Having just passed the Motorbike Mod 1 & 2 it is time to think about a bike... maybe?

Arrives tomorrow

Budapest Szimpla Kert bar:

Return to Rome



The last time he had seen her had been almost a year ago, she had been leaning against the beer pumps at the bar of "The Public House" in a back street of Rome. She had been watching him as he stepped out of the door and into the dark of a November night in the eternal city.

It had been a night to remember, for all the right reasons, good company, good drink and good music.

Gordon had found the bar, quite by chance as he ventured through the back streets of the city, trying to avoid the tourist traps and discover what really made the city tick. After his first drink that afternoon he had decided that he had to introduce Neil to the bar that evening. They were both in the city on business, Neil was still stuck in meetings but had declared his intent to make the most of their last night in the city before their flight the following day.

The counterpoint of the evening had come near the end, the crowd that had filled the rooms of the bar to enjoy to the 'open mic' night had thinned out, some heading home to bed, others heading for other pubs and clubs in the metropolis.

Gordon was returning from the toilets that were tucked away at the back of the bar when she stepped in front of him.

Gordon, thought she was out collecting glasses, but as her hand touched his chest to stop him he had realised that she had ulterior motives.

A few inches shorter than Gordon, she had looked up, locking his eyes to hers, so that he almost felt as if he was diving into their dark depths, time seemed to slow as the warmth of her hand on his chest spread through the material of his shirt.

"Hi" he said, a slight smile on his lips, not quite sure where the moment was leading.

"Ciao" she grinned back, sliding her hand up his chest and behind his neck, her other hand reached for his hip to support herself as she pulled his head down to hers.

Gordons hands moved to her hips to support her as she stood on tiptoes, their eyes still locked until their lips met.

The sweetness of the cocktail she had been sipping lingered on her soft lips, mixing with the woodiness of the Whisky that Gordon had been drinking.

Time now seemed to accelerate and the moment was over in a flash, she had dropped down, given him a cheeky wink and was off collecting glasses again.

"What's wrong with you?" Neil had asked when Gordon returned to the bar.

Gordon had felt lightheaded with euphoria, had the kiss actually happened? Was his imagination and the Whisky playing tricks on him?

"Oh, umm… nothing" he lied, but his cheeks had flushed as they always did when he was was trying to keep a secret.

Neil gave him a funny look, but left it at that.

It had seemed like only minutes before Neil had nudged him and suggested that it was time they hit the road back the hotel .

The euphoria had vanished in that moment his heart sinking as he realised that he did not know when he might return to the city, and if he would ever find out if there would be a second kiss.

So they had stepped out into the night, Gordon casting a final glance back as he went down the steps to the street, framing the image of her leaning against the pumps watching him go.

Something to play with over the holidays?

Professor Nesbit looked out of his office window over the main quad at Auld Reekie University, the new term had not long started and he could see some of the new students still referring to their maps trying to find their classrooms for the day. Older students were already at their classrooms or still in bed after a night out in the city, overcoming the effects of alcohol and various other substances no doubt.
The last few students who had bothered to make it on time for the mornings lectures rushed through the main gate from the bus stop, behind them trailed Ian McIness that useless Lab Technician. Professor Nesbit shook his head in frustration he didn’t know why the university kept him on, well he did, it was because his daddy, a well-connected member of the faculty staff, hadn’t been able to keep his dick in his pants and had had one of the cleaner girls over his desk some 25 years ago. Now to save embarrassment the offspring of that copulation had been given a job in the university in return for keeping his mouth shut and ensuring that the whole escapade didn’t reach the ears of St Fergus’s University or the city elders
Turning back to his desk he returned to the document he had open on his laptop, the field report from Thomas Norman was very interesting, it looked as though he had done his job well and picked out some prime candidates for this year’s intake. An invite may have to be sent “across the pond” to Thomas, for him to visit the university for one of the initiations, he had done good work; it was about time he had a taste of what his ‘research’ was providing for.
But first the candidates had to be reviewed and a programme of ‘education’ worked out, on the screen the fresh features of Lillian, one of Thomas’s candidates, looked out at him from the screen. He could almost feel the submission in that look, the innocence and the naivety; he wondered how she was coping in her first few days in the city. Edinburgh was a huge melting pot of cultures and nationalities, lots of tourists and a friendly / welcoming local community, but that was the crust, below, the city could be a cruel mistress, ready to swallow up the unsuspecting and not necessarily spit them out again!
He read on into the report from the local “researchers”: Lillian, or Lilly to her friends, had taken rooms in the old section of the campus accommodation, most first years were encouraged to stay within the university grounds in their first year, to provide a ‘safe and nurturing environment’ and the old section was one of the more “interesting” parts of the university. She had made a few new friends, but not many, as her background meant she was a little withdrawn and not adept at the social graces. She seemed to be a conscientious student, staying in on nights revising and preparing her course material, the bright lights of Edinburgh had not yet worked their magic on her, but they soon would.

Find out what Evin Mcduncan is getting upto in: Don't Stray from the Path

The Scholss (III) St Andrew

You feel movement on the bed next to you as the wine bottle clinks against your glass topping up the dark red wine that you have been sipping while you have watched the show.
The figure from the chair has moved to sit on the edge of the bed slightly behind you so all that you can see out of the corner of your eye is the Kilt draped over a muscular thigh and the white shirt sleeve.
"LET ME OUT OF THIS! I want to fuck the little bitch for locking me up like this."
The whole tableau freezes.
Cecil who had been curled up on the floor trying to remove the cock cage has stood up and is advancing towards the pair on the bed.
"Hmmm it appears you hound has forgotten his training" the warm Scottish voice shows no signs of worry as it drifts over you from behind "perhaps you should show him some discipline?"
With that you hear the bottle clink as it is set down on the floor and the Kilt rise from the bed.
Cecil has reached the edge of the bed where Hannah and Aaron are trying to back away from his advance.
Cecil's head snaps backwards as his lead is grabbed pulling him away from the bed and towards a corner of the room, Cecil madly scrabbles at the collar trying to undo it, but you know he will not succeed as you hold the only key for the padlock that seals it shut.
Hannah scrambles from the bed, her tryst with Aaron forgotten as she lifts a candelabra from a table, bringing light to the corner where Cecil is being dragged towards a large St Andrews cross.
The leash is passed through the gap at the top so that he is held against the woodwork.
Rising from the bed, you stride across the room to where Cecil is still trying to struggle free, in the light of the candelabra that Hannah is holding you see that there is a table to one side of the cross with a number of implements on it. Putting your glass down, you select a riding crop and flick it through the air so that it catches Cecil on his bum as he is twisting.
A cry of pain emerges from his lips before you grab his face and hold it so that he can see straight into your eyes.
"How dare you!" you state "How dare you show me up in front of our host?"
Aaron is now by your heel waiting for your instructions.
"Secure him so that I cannot see his irksome face" you order "and be quick about it, our host has been put to enough trouble!" you glance at the figure on the other side of the cross holding the lead firmly.
A look of worry passes through Cecil's face "No mistress Please" he pleads "I.. I only did it because his bitch locked me up.."
Aaron grabs Cecil's wrist and pulls him round so that he his facing away from you, locking it in the manacles set in the woodwork, his other wrist and ankles soon follow suit so that he is stood spread-eagled against the cross.
Hannah has set the candelabra down on a table nearby and now stands behind Cecil, she reaches under him and starts stroking his scrotum "A little bitch am I?" she whispers in his ear "I'll show you BITCH."
"No..no stop it " Cecil's cock is starting to swell inside the cage, the flesh trying to find an escape from the plastic cell.
"HANNAH!" the warm Scottish accent has turned cold "get away from him. It is for our guest to deal with her ....dog."
"But please.... He called me a...."
"Here NOW!"
Hannah scurries off to where the Scotsman stands beside the chair.
"Bend over and lift your skirt!" he orders her, turning the chair so that she kneels on the seat and bends over the back. "What do you not do?"
"Beg Sir"
'SMACK'
A leather paddle is in his hand and Hannah jerks as it makes contact with her bum.
"What else?"
"I must not answer Master back."
'SMACK'

The Cult: P1 Underground

Laura felt groggy and confused as she started to waken up.
She tried to open her eyes but even when she thought they were open it was only blackness in front of her.
She could feel something across her mouth, wedged in, holding her jaws slightly apart, preventing her from calling out.
Her senses started to tell her more as they returned, her hands were bound together behind her, they rested against what felt like rough stone. Through the thin material of her skirt she could feel the cold seep up from a rough floor.
In the distance she started to make out the faint rumble of traffic.
A smell of damp mustiness invaded her nostrils, the smell of dark long forgotten places.
Another sensation started to build in her, Panic.
How had she got there?
What was happening to her?
Shaking her head she tried to dislodge the gag and clear her sight.
Desperately she tried to cry out through the gag, but it only came out as a muffled half whisper.
She wriggled on her bottom trying to stand up, but found that her ankles were bound and that her waist was secured to the wall behind her.
Still she tried to scream out as tears began to well from her eyes.
"Oh God, where am I?" she thought.
It became apparent that she was not going to escape her bonds and as the realisation set in, her panic began to subside.
She started to think back through the events leading up to her wakening in this place.

She had been out with her student friends from the University celebrating another semesters worth of work. They had visited their usual haunts and had ended up in their usual favourite bar in the back streets of the city.
Even their professors and the teaching assistants had been out and had joined them for a few drinks into the small hours before someone had suggested that they go to a club.
At that point things began to get fuzzy for Laura, she remembered the professors buying them one more drink to keep out the cold on the walk to the club.
They had all been pretty giggly, or had that just been her?
No! She remembered Janine had been pretty tipsy as well and the two of them had been using each other for support as they staggered along the street.
The others had gone on ahead, but two others had stayed behind with them.
A shortcut was suggested.
Another bar, just through this old wooden door….

Laura began her struggles again as she realised that the drink had been spiked and whomever had stayed behind with them had lured her and possibly Janine into this… Trap!

"Sssh! Little one your quite safe for the moment" came a sibilant voice.
Laura almost screamed in surprise, she had thought she was alone.

"Help me! Help me please." she tried to say, but it came out as muffled moans.

"Now, now" whispered the voice "we will remove your gag when you learn to be a good girl."

"NO…NO LET ME GO" screamed Laura

Her head snapped round as a hand struck her cheek, shocking her into silence.
The heat of the slap spreading quickly across her skin.

"I did not want to do that." returned the voice "If you continue like that we will find other ways of disciplining you. Do you understand?"

"NO I don't understand!"

The slap sounded like a whip crack in the quiet of the cellar as her opposite cheek received the same attention as the first.

"Please don't make me do that again, it really is unbecoming of a girl in your position."

Fae Tithes

She ran, the mud squishing beneath her cold, bare feet. She lost her flip flops ages ago. She should have heeded the stories around their campfire. The ones the locals told. But nooo...she had to be a hotheaded American who would step into a circle. One she had no business in, mind you. She thought it was neat when it shimmered in the full moon's light, but when she heard a voice, Katherine got freaked out.

"The tithe will be paid." That's all. A man's voice saying that. She went back to the fire, and two locals laughed at her. One was quiet, but she dismissed it. She woke to a sound, as though someone or thing were struggling with the zipper of her tent. She put her flip flops on, her hair loose, blonde and gold mixing together. The zipper opened, and she shoved her way past whatever it was, running for her life. The tent collapsed. She thought she had screamed, but she didn't have the air to do so now. Focusing on running. Shoes left her feet, but she didn't stop.

After a shorter while than she'd like, she did stop. Panting, she put her hands on her knees. She looked behind her, no one. Maybe it had been one of the people in her camping trip, messing with her. Or her own imagination perhaps. She shivered. She was mud splattered, dressed in shorts and a tank top and now, had lost her sandals. She sighed, having caught her breath.

"You'd have caught it faster if you'd stayed upright." A male voice spoke. She nearly jumped out of her skin. She could make the outline of a man, with a bow, quiver, arrow, and dressed in a kilt, partly draped over one shoulder. Katherine took a couple steps backwards.

"Who are you?" she asked, trembling. The man sighed.

"Not from here, are ye? You see, there's circles in this land, almost like a portal. Ye step in one, well, if you are very, very lucky, ye'll be ignored. But, when someone who has something special, like golden hair..." He was suddenly a foot from her, and she backed up again, feeling a tree against her back. He had pointed ears, long hair, which looked dark in the light. "...Especially during a full moon, well, there's things that become..." He leaned beside her ear. "...curious." He could hear her heart pounding. She tried to side step him, but he moved even faster, putting a hand on her sternum. He sniffed her neck, then nuzzled her neck. "Gods, you smell delicious and you're so soft."

Katherine pushed at his muscular chest, trying to step on his feet, anything. She could only squirm.

"I didn't know! I thought it was just a silly story, please, please let me go, please," she begged. His eyebrows raised, and he chuckled.

"Hmmm, no. Can't do that, I'm afraid. There's a tithe that you must pay. So, before you try to kick me again, maybe you want to listen to what that means, hmm?" She glared at him. He sighed. "Don't say I didn' warn ye." His hand moved to the base of her neck, gripping her hair. She panted and struggled. He didn't worry about her arms pushing, flailing, as he lowered his lips to her neck.

A flush of warmth flooded Katherine. She gasped, feeling her knees go a little weak. He kept kissing, gods, what he was doing felt good. She stopped fighting him, embarrassed at how wet she was. When he pulled away, she made a little sound of protest. He chuckled.

"What did you do to me?" she asked. He stroked her hair, continuing the glamour.

"Not to fret. Just calmed ye down a bit. For my own shin's sake." He grinned. "Ye liked it." She shook her head. "Oh no? Hmm, then this won't do a thing, will it now?" He leaned into the other side, kissing, nipping as his hand slid up beneath her shirt, palming her breasts, one than the other. She felt her body writhe, and she whimpered, closing her eyes. His hand slid towards the waistband of her shorts.

"Ok! Ok! You're right, I liked it." He laughed, pulling his hand away.

"So, as I was saying, you owe a tithe. You are bound to me until I release you, which won't be very soon. You're not in your world any longer. So don't run from me. I'm not always so forgiving," he said, kissing her neck. "Just one little thing before we go back to my home."

He kissed her passionately, gently putting her hands behind her back, a hip pressing her against the tree. He kissed down her neck, then his hand slid into her shorts, over her panties at first. She was so wet, and he slid his hand into her panties, a thick finger sliding up and down her slit. She panted, only not fighting because of the glamour. Fuck, it felt good. His finger slid inside her, and he pumped it in and out of her, adding a second. She panted, moaning as he fucked her. He grinned. "So I can get noises out of you. Hmmm...oh sweetling, I can see your blush. Never been taken like this, hmm? Or have you simply not had a lover whisper in your ear?" He leaned in, fingers moving faster. "You're only getting to keep those clothes on until we reach home. Because otherwise, I will pin you down and fuck you right here, and...oh...yes...you like that." Katherine came on his fingers, writhing, embarrassed. He kept going, her eyes wide as she whimpered, unable to speak. "I think you like that idea. Not tonight, pet. Yup...my pet, oh, I guess you like that too. My little kitten." He stroked her faster, groaning in her ear as she came, his thumb on her clit.

She panted as he pulled out his hand and licked his fingers. "Good girl," he said.

The Cult: P2 Underground

Reeling from the physical contact of the slap Laura tried to make sense of what was happening.
How could the voice remain so calm while extending such physical duress, if it could remain that calm what would it be like if it got angry?
She had the feeling that she did not want to find out.
She lowered her head "I understand" she said quietly.
"There, you see" said the voice "I can understand you when you remain calm and quiet, none of this screaming and we will get along fine."
Laura felt a hand brush against the back of her head and she flinched away expecting another slap.
"Shhh, you have done nothing wrong, I am going to let you have a drink and need to take your gag out."
The hand returned to the back of her head and Laura could feel the gag being released, she realised that she was actually quite thirsty, with all the other thoughts in her head that realisation had been pushed to the back of her mind.
A straw was placed against her lips, a quick suck told her that it was water, or at least it tasted like water, she sucked down the liquid trying to slake her thirst.
The last of the water rattled in the bottom of the bottle as she sucked it dry and the straw was removed from her mouth.
She started to ask a question but was cut off as the gag was slid back into her mouth "No questions… yet" came the voice "I will be back later with some food, maybe then we will let you ask your questions."
LATER… Laura began to panic "NO..no please don't leave me" she tried to gasp past the gag" shaking her head against the restriction.
SLAP!
"I thought you were learning!" the voice sounded annoyed "Maybe we should just leave you here."
A rustle of material told Laura that her captor had stood up and was moving away from her.. "Please.." she tried to whisper past the gag, but her only answer was a muffled thump of what could have been a door followed by the grating of a lock turning.
Footsteps faded away and the quiet emptiness of the room started to close in on her, tears began to well behind her eyes as she imagined that her captor may never return, leaving her to starve and her body to moulder lost for decades under the city streets.
Laura tried fighting against her bonds again, the chain around her waist allowed her some movement, enough to get her legs under her and to move a few feet to each side.
One her right she felt a soft sponge like material a couple of inches thick, realising that it was a mattress she shuffled onto it, getting off the cold floor and lying on her side she curled into a ball to keep warm.
The effects of the panic and stress caught up with her and it was not long before she fell asleep the faint rumble of traffic her only companion.

Joyful Mediocrity

It is a Friday morning at the beginning of September and we are still under the cloud of Covid, I sit at my office desk wondering how long it will be before things return to normal, or at least the not so normal that I/we enjoy.
My job is part draughtsman so I spend some time with a pair of headphones on listening to music while concentrating on my latest diagram, today I have the soundtrack to Lost Empire playing. Lost Empire was a themed club night held in Hamburg the year before, centred around a dystopian future of decaying humanity and corrupt governments with a suitable amount of perversity thrown in to keep things interesting. I had my tickets and the plans in place but it all fell through at the last minute, how I kicked myself for missing what was probably a fantastic night.
So as I contemplate what I missed I watch my office colleagues arriving with their standard greetings and patterns, always the same phrases with a smile on their faces as if they are so glad to arrive and see each other, that their lives exist only to sit at their desks and work for 'the Man'.
I have dubbed it "Joyful Mediocrity", happy the be the grey man or woman, not to offend or delight the senses of society with the possibility of being 'noticed' for being slightly different or free thinking.
Then I look at myself, sat here fuelling that very mediocrity that I have begun to despise over the last few months of not being able to escape to that alternative reality, where events like Lost Empire and Luxuria Party allow us to express ourselves, igniting the senses of others and letting our imaginations out to play.
So to all of you out there in your workplaces or homes existing in your own version of Joyful Mediocrity, I say "Hang In There".
Your imagination WILL be able to run wild again and be appreciated by likeminded souls, our smiles of joy may be obscured by masks, but our eyes will be alive with the excitement and our actions should convey our pleasure at once again being able to express ourselves without judgement.

The phone call

The connection clicked in as Quinn pressed the accept call button expecting to hear yet another set of excuses and platitudes as to why he could not make it.
“Hi Sweetie are you ready for your hot date?” asked the excited voice of a woman.
Quinn pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at the called ID, it was Sam! Her mind shot back to a party two weeks earlier in an apartment uptown, lots of suits just out of the office downing Bourbon like it was going out of fashion and a pair of hot black shiny PVC pants.
Sam had been holding court by the bar and when the group had parted to give Quinn a better view she could see Sam was shamelessly wearing a micro mesh top and staring right at her a smile curling at the edge of her lips. In a few strides Sam had taken Quinn by the arm and was talking as if they had been lifelong friends. Quinn had enjoyed the attention, not just from Sam but from the various suitors hoping to gain Sam’s attention. It had not taken long for them to exchange the usual social media details and a promise to keep each other ‘up to date’ with news and gossip.
Putting the phone back to her ear Quinn replied “He stood me up Sam, last minute phone call with some lame excuse as to why he can’t make it.”
“That lame dicked dweeb, he doesn’t deserve you. Now don’t you wish you had given Jerry a chance? He was definitely NOT lame dicked I can tell you.” She laughed breathlessly.
Quinn remembered Jerry, he and Sam had ended up dancing together at the party, Sam had made a point of rubbing her bum in his crotch as they gyrated together. There had been no mistaking the size of Jerry’s cock when she had stepped away from him not long before the two had disappeared together.
“Yeah well you made the most of that opportunity” she chuckled remembering the dirty glint in Sam’s eyes when she had returned, “so I’m going out on my own to drown my sorrows and forget about that ‘Dweeb’ for the night.”
“Well if you want some company, just say sweetie, you know we can have a great giggle together.”

Hehe, you want to pull back the curtain a little bit and peak inside?
To catch all the freaks and deviants at play?
But are you ready to hear and see such things?
Questioned the voice in her head it's sound caressing across her senses.
Tell me what would your mask be like as you peek around that curtain?

'Hmmm,' she slipped the leash slightly on her imagination, giving it the chance to taste her deeper desires, 'a simple black velvet mask, a black velvet choker, a black sexy bodysuit, not yet too revealing.'

SHOW me, what's behind the curtain!

You feel the heavy velvet material of the curtain slide along your bodysuit as you push through the gap into the dark, a tingle of excitement or is it slight fear runs down your spine?
In the darkness ahead you discern figures, moving, flickering, in sparks of light, the rumble of music reaches up through your boots as your body starts to sway in time with the beat.
Stepping towards the light the figures become clearer, smoke drifts around them, swirling as they gyrate to the music.
A hand slips into yours, leading you into the room.
Around you guests are dressed in every conceivable outfit from the near naked to the fully encased in rubber. Blacks, Reds and Whites mix to create sensational designs, leather straps hold material in place, chains drape across nipples, latex molds to to every curve like a second skin.
The aroma of perfume, aftershave and passion fills the room enticing you to step further into the clutches of the dark side.

The figure next to you lifts your hand and gently leads you to the bar. A seat is offered as you take your position a drink materialises by your hand.
You look for the figure that led you in, but it is the only one in the room that you cannot fully make out, it appears to be changing with every strobe of the lights, waiting to become formed, whole and animated.
The voice whispers to you, "What will it be, what will you choose, what do you.... Desire..." the final syllable strokes down your spine sending a shiver through you.

As she tries to turn and see, who spoke, he gently turns her away again, so she still cannot fully discern him. Yet, she presses herself gently, yet willingly back against him to feel his lustful body behind her. He responds in turn and she can feel his excitement on her lower spine. While gently rhythmically swaying to and fro to the music, he lets his hand wander between her legs only to discover a subtle opening...

"Is this what you want ?" whispers the voice "to be a lustful slut, controlled by another's hand, teasing until you get what you want?"
"LOOK!" commands the voice shocking her as the chain attached to your collar is yanked to face your towards the centre of the room.
Out of the shadows steps a woman wearing a short leather skirt and bra, from the collar around her neck hangs a chain.
She starts to dance, gyrating her body making sensuous gestures, flicking up the hem of the skirt of to reveal glimpses of naked flesh. She teases herself without caring who is watching, only sending the occasional glance towards one corner of the room as if to ensure one particular individual is still there.
The smoke clears on the opposite side of the dance floor and a muscular male steps onto the floor, his chest is bare all but for a harness, he wears a pair of skin tight black trousers, already there is a bulge in his crotch.
The woman turns towards him and licks her lips as her eyes fall upon his crotch.
She glances to the corner again before moving towards the male, playing with her breasts as she approaches him. She starts to dance in front of him, getting closer so that she is rubbing up against him, her hands drift over his naked torso and down to stroke the expanding bulge in his trousers.
Taking two of her fingers she strokes her sex gathering the juices that are welling up before placing them in his mouth.
Her head jerks backwards as the chain on her collar goes tight.
"NO SLUT" commands the voice of another figure that appears from the corner that she had been watching.
A large hand smacks against the bare flesh of her buttocks "I have told you before to ask permission before sharing your juices."
She turns to her Master "But he has such.."
The large hand grasps the back of her hair pulling her head back "I have rules for a reason! Now what must you do?"
A look of mischief flits across her eyes "make Mast...make you BOTH Happy?"
The scene fades into the smoke as the woman starts to gyrate between both men, her bra being pulled off as she sinks to her knees...

Stephanie stumbled in not exactly knowing where she was. "ooo... gotta watch that first step..." she said to her boyfriend who she thought was behind her. She gave a glance as the door shut and there was nobody. she slowly stepped to the bar in hopes somebody would serve her...

Stephanie_Hall said:

"Hey! What's a girl got to do to get a drink in this place?"

Click to expand...

Wiping a cobweb out of his hair Fergus the barman peered into the gloom of the bar, motes of dust flickered through shafts of light that stabbed through the gaps in the shutters.
It seemed like an eon ago that the last customers had deserted the tavern with the threat of a plague sweeping through the country.
Now here stood a stunning young lady her hair lit by a shaft of light making her look like the sunrise of a new era, perhaps this was a new beginning for the Last Drop Tavern?
Standing up and shaking off the grime of the last few years he responded "Aye Lass what'll it be?"

So here I am, a Scotsman on the 'Edge', enjoyer of the surreal and unreal.
I have gone past enjoying a "normal" night out, a night of standing at the bar chatting about banal subjects holds no fascination for me.
Now I want to share the night with the freaks and deviants, the ones who let their desires and imagination escape to form an alternative reality within the one we inhabit.
Take the grey of normality and set light to it with the colours of the dark side. No imagination is the same as the next, everyone brings their own particular brilliance to the stage.

Amazing what you can write after a couple of Whisky's

MsK2021 said:

I get sucked into the bar scene when I see an intoxicated poet singing. He looks on the 'Edge' between the surreal and unreal, in the shadow tinted with the colors of the dark side. It's dark but I somehow feel a peculiar sensation of warmth at the corner. But all in all, after all, nothing is black, nothing white. I see shades of colors that have no names.

Did you say you just had some Whisky? Are you the bartender? Drinking behind the bar? Can I have a Whiskey Sour without any sweet syrup? I like the pungent taste. Pungent, sour and salty. I don't mind it if it stings a little or even burns a bit, but nothing stronger than that for me.

Click to expand...

Leaning on the bar I look curiously at you, "it sounds as if someone has been serving you a Whisky Sweet.
Trust me, our Whisky Sours have no syrup in them so prepare to pucker up those lips as the lemon juice does it's job"

Stephanie walks into the Last Drop Tavern Wearing a black leather skirt and a low-cut long sleeve body suitand black half-heels. The light is low compared to the bright sunny afternoon outside, and standing a moment to let her eyes adjust, she sees the place is fairly empty. Stephanie stepped in here before but left when she didn't get any service. This time she was walking confidently up to the bar, she pushed her hair back with her hand and asked, "Rum and Coke please?"

(OOC: See how it goes this time)

Stephanie looked over to the woman who was talking to her. "Hi Katie, I'm Stephanie. I have to say I find the service here rather, inattentive?"

Giving up on ever expecting to get served a drink here, Steph walked to the end of the bar where there was complimentary water and she poured herself a glass. She came back and sat next to Katie and sipped it. "You think they'd be pissed off if I went around and made my own?"