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Whorror Story? I Didn't have a name this was an experiment piece.

Marge always seemed so nice, a smile from ear to ear, her ears perky and her tail wagging, but something was missing, something inside, like a hole needing to be filled. First it was her brother's beer, then her mother's cheap wine, and soon after her father's whisky, but those highs faded quickly, a substance, accepted, kosher…

She asked out a boy when she was fifteen, and the sensations of flesh, the feeling of lips on lips, wet nose pressed against wet nose, her first kiss given to a fine labrador. Soon, something woke up inside her, and one evening, as the sun was setting, the boy took her. The feeling, it was electric, and soon it was but a dull droning.

After the boy was dragged through a gauntlet of sexual hell he broke it off. Marge was devastated, and thus a new high was found, and she revelled in it. Pity, sadness. Her parents did all they could to console her, but soon she found another high, a stoner of a lizard, and in a haze of hash and ass she passed her highschool years away, always the shining daughter to her parents, always the girl who would let you fuck her raw between classes.

College would see any shred of a restraint moved away as she did. Professors, sororities, fraternities, and anyone else, no matter how ugly, no matter how many. A racing team of horses, a pack of wolves, groups large and small indulged in her games, and as she worked through her college years she changed the rules, and the drugs, for everyone to play with. Anywhere, anytime, any hole.

But that was years ago… she reminisced at the bar, the seed of the man who paid for the glass of sherry floating in little globs as they slowly dissolved in alcohol. Besider was the one species she knew of that she had never slept with. A human, and a rather unremarkable one at that. Mr. Noles was management at a local telecoms business, he lived a rather unremarkable life. He kissed a girl for the first time in freshman year of highschool, slept with one a year later. He was rather tame in his tastes, nothing like the hedon beside him.

He too was reminiscing about the past. College he thought, “Mr. Winny was a pain in the ass" he whispered carefully not to let his work buddies hear.

He and his wife were not each other's first as much as he'd wish he had saved himself, and the vice versa. While the recent troubles with the economy had stressed their relationship. Even in these times where things might not be the best Mr. Noles loved three things, his wife, his job, and God.

Marge, now realizing that she'd never fucked a human hopped over the empty seat next to him.

“Hey big boy, wanna ditch this dump and head back to my place?" She petitions “I've got some nice things to drink, do, or smoke."

Mr. Noles just stares at the woman, his dull, stonelike eyes. His brow was furrowed and lip curled. It was a face of total disgust, the same one someone would give a pool of vomit on a sidewalk.

And yet, Marge loved every moment that the man stared at her. She was so used to being stripped down, layer by layer, by horny, depraved men, to which she had long since grown numb to. This feeling felt like a burn in her heart as if someone stuck two red hot pokers straight into it. She was in love with it. Her pants soaked through, having long forsaken a bra and panties. This high was intense, extreme, and even to her felt wrong. Which made it feel so right.

The smell coming off the man was unlike any other, and she wanted more. Now.

“You smell pretty nice, human, say is that thing about BHC true?" she asks, hoping to elicit another response.

Mr. Noles turns to his friends “Night boys, I'm outta here." He says zipping up his sweater as he leaves.

Marge looks to his buddies, a Bear, a Naga, and a Heron. “What was hot stuff's name?" She asks, biting her lip.

“Who's asking?" The Naga asks back with typical male lust.

A brief unimportant flirt with the men and she has her information, and three loads in three different places, and not even a ping of excitement.

“Mr. Noles…" She read off a slip wine stained piece of paper, biting her lip at the prospect of yet another untapped source of highs.

Mr. Noles, for all he was, and chiefly wasn't, was a man of discipline. Since the age of 23 he had woken up at exactly 5:32 AM, but the time he went to sleep had changed over the years, when it college it was whenever he could find the time; after his marriage in his junior year it was whenever his wife would drag his corpse-like form to their bed. Now, he was finally in a routine for that to, 10 PM he and his wife would go to bed, and every night but sunday they would have sex, of which afterwards they would watch T.V until 11 upon which they would fall asleep. For Mr. Noles the routine at home allowed him clarity of mind at his chaotic job at the largest bank in the city, of which he was the only non-shrewish member of higher management.

This morning was the same as any other, he scratched behind the ears of his purring wife. He ironed his shirt, pants, and tie before Mrs. Noles woke up.

“Morning hun." She yawns. “I'll get to making breakfast for us." She puts on her afgan and makes her way out of the bedroom.

Breakfast was nice, scrambled eggs, fried ham, and two pancakes, all sanctified with a morning prayer. Afterwards he would go to the living room and watch the weather channel while his wife did the dishes. Today was interesting, some Langian rebel was executed in Formaldia, some race riots to the west but all rather plain. Soon after at exactly 6:15 he would give his wife a spank and a kiss and was out the door.

The commute to work was as mundane as ever, bare the fact that the brood, a punk band from his teenage years was on 98.3 “Buzzness". He was always the first to work, otherwise the Trade Guild would throw the business equivalent of a hissy fit as a Sherwish person was forbidden to open up the stock trade. Probably the only reason he was allowed to be the COO, well at least given how the VP was the CEO's son, and that poor boy “married" the President's daughter.

He pushed the thoughts of “keeping it in the family" from his firing into the back of his head like normal as he waited for 8:20 at his desk. He and the security guard, simply called Horns, would sit back and smoke a cigar every morning before the traders and brokers showed up. Soon his little cabal of friends arrived, a smug heron, an arrogant bear, and a narcissistic naga. Perfect, his daily Harry!" Lenard Mraz says coiling his snake-like tail around his human torso.

“Let me guess, the bar whore fucked you." Mr. Noles says back unphased.

“Close but no cigar" He says before flicking the one in his mouth out with a clawed hand.

“Then what." Mr. Noles says annoyed, pulling his grandfather's pipe from his shirt pocket.

“She fucked all of us man, at once. All. At. Once. shit was insane." He says like some sort of frat kid.

“Wow. Say how's the wife." He responds.

Lenard stares at him with contempt. “You know I don't have one." He says coldly

“Anymore." Says Jason craning his white feathered neck.

“Bold shit coming from you Jason." Lenard snaps.

“Coming from a man who can keep it in his pants less than ghengis khan, that means nothing." He says clicking his beak together.

Jason turns to the newly arrived bear, Kevin. “Oh is that the hangover or you still drunk." He calls out.

“???????? ?????? ????" He growls in his native tongue.

With a frown on his face Mr. Noles finally goes to his office at 8:32, two minutes late to him, 28 early to his boss. He sits down at his desk and begins the day of examining a godless amount of “reports" and suggestions on how to improve the company in general. Most of which he ignores. He hears a knock on his door and mumbles. “Oh great is the pink haired HRquistion.". The door swings open, three females, and one pussywhipped male walks in. Mr. Noles always found it funny how the hamplanet of the group was not the literal pig.

“Well, well, well Mr. Noles. What's it like being the sole problematic member of this company?" The rather thin, lest for her kind, elephant slams a document onto your table.

“We got five thousand online signatures for your resignation." The hamplanet of a human barks.

Mr. Noles looks up to the pair in the center of the group. “One." He says.

“Are you threatening these lovely women?" Snaps the nearly skeletal yeen male.

“Gander, if I were you I would leave. Two." He says again.

“The hell are you counting for Humie." Snaps the pig.

Mr. Noles pulls out a slip from his desk. “Name." He asks.

“Noneya." She snorts.

Mr. Noles looks up with his typically cold eyes “Oh this isn't an asking sort of deal miss." He says his stone grey eyes seem to make the pig shiver.

“Not happening" Snaps Gander.

Mr. Noles grabs another piece of paper from his desk, a violet slip, and begins to write on it. After a few moments of silence he hands it to Gander. “Take this to Mr. Goldhole on floor seventeen." He says before brushing him off.

“Three." He says before Gander leaves the room.

“You aren't scaring us." Pouts the human hamplanet.

“Duly noted." He says reaching for his phone.

He presses the buttons one by one, letting the clicks resound through the room.