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Last week was meh.\n\nFor those who haven't read Keyholder, this one is more a character introduction/reintroduction. For those who have? Well, enjoy", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Sorry this one's a little late. Last week was meh.

For those who haven't read Keyholder, this one is more a character introduction/reintroduction. For those who have? Well, enjoy", "writing": "Collared Chapter 20: Dust off\nBy TerraMGP\n\n\t‘Loaded Aces bar and grill’. That was what the new sign said out front. One of many investments into a small cement brick dive bar out along a branch road near Red Arrow highway. For ages the bar had been nothing more than a stopover for bikers and locals. A place kept alive more out of the sheer stubbornness of its former owner. \n\n\tAce. A rather generic nickname for an old biker, assuming it was a nickname at all. Talk to any of his road brothers and most of them would have probably guessed the bar would shut down once the old dog had died. At the very least nobody would have expected the infusion of cash and hard labor. The fresh paint, the interior redesign of green pleather booth refits and checkerboard tables. Not to mention the actual addition of ‘grill’ and the implication of more than simple bar food on offer.\n\n\tAll of these thoughts swirled in the mind of the black haired woman who sat at the currently empty bar. Not that she looked out of place. Helga was fairly fit. Middle age had bowed to her rigorous workout schedule and physically demanding job. She cut an imposing figure in cammo pants and heavy boots with a black muscle tee showing off her tattoos.\n\n\tOnce upon a time, when she and her road sisters had stopped in to this bar among the many that littered their usual trip routes, she could recall a guilty little notion that she even looked a bit too classy for such a run down place. A silly thought, and easily dismissed. But it was odd she had it. Now she was almost feeling the opposite. Sitting there at the bar, alone, waiting on her best friend and the bar’s new owner.\n\n\t“I still don’t know why I’m here.” Helga’s tone went from frustrated to dour. She shouldn’t have been. She knew that. Honestly it thrilled her to see her best friend thriving like this. The porcine woman hunched her elbows into the jewel-shined wood of the bar and listened to the heavy rummaging and rattling in the kitchen. A few instances of grumbling and swearing from Tabs further ensuring Helga that she didn’t have to worry.\n\n\t“Look, just trust me on this, ok? I wouldn’t ask you out here if there wasn’t a good reason.” More mechanical whirring and other strange noises filled the empty bar. Helga looked over at the array of closed spirits, eyes darting back and forth. It was far too early to drink, but she’d probably punch someone for a glass of OJ right about then. Maybe even a nice bit of fresh grapefruit juice.\n\n\tFinally, painfully, Tabs made her way back out of the kitchen. She set a plate down in front of Helga, then in a shockingly deft motion pulled up a glass and a jigger from behind the bar. A measure of two different spirits went into the tool and then to the glass before Helga could even register what she was seeing. Then ice, then a split second later a blast of what looked to be cola finished it off, before finally the whole thing was given a nice tiny stir from a bar spoon.\n\n\t“Well that was… overly dramatic.” Helga scoffed. She looked at the drink a long moment, then back to the plate. The sandwich was hefty. It also looked rather good. A nice big club the likes of which she hadn’t had much of late. She pulled the bread apart and examined the contents for a moment, then yanked out the toothpick and gave it a nice hearty bite.\n\n\tThe experience from that point on could only be described as excruciating. Not because of the sandwich. Indeed, the longer she chawed the more enamored Helga became. Much of that was probably just due to being hungry. But it was good. Unfortunately Tabs wouldn’t stop staring at her. Any enjoyment that could be had quickly dampened the longer her road sister’s sharp green eyes hammered at her. She was begging for input like some lost little puppy and Helga knew it. That, as much as her hunger, kept her chawing that much longer.\n\n\t“Well?” Tabs almost squealed. She gestured her head to the drink. Helga sighed and brought the glass to her muzzle for a small sip. That only made it worse. If Helga had ever had children, she could imagine this was what it’d be like when one of them did something and wanted praise. And just like that the day-drinking wasn’t quite so distasteful.\n\n\t“It’s good” Helga’s words sparked a childlike thrill from Tabs. One that Helga herself both hated and loved to see. She cupped the glass in her hand and rolled it around, looking though the dark murky drink with hints of a more golden brown coming in though the light. Her eyes shifting from it towards the smirking wolverine. “This is the drink you made before, right? The one nobody orders because it’s some kind of nerd reference?”\n\n\t“Look, It’s based on a different drink so I named it after that drink. Though I did tweak it some. Now it’s more like a Jack and Coke. Except with one and a half ounces of Jameson and a half ounce of Barenjager. Which… no you’ve never heard of that. But it’s good, right? Plus I used Vanilla coke. I thought it’d be a pain in the ass to set that up but Tom just had the balls to ask the people doing the install if that was something they could set up and it turns out it doesn’t cost us much more. We just gotta order a few flavored syrups and we can add them to any pop we want.”\n\n\t“you are… really getting into this.” Helga snickered “And the sandwich? What, you guys gonna start serving something more than the typical bar food?”\n\n\tTabs was quick to pull up an object that Helga had never in her life expected to see in the little dive bar. A menu. Carefully laid out, graphically clean, firmly laminated and shining new.\n\n\tIf Tabs had been proud before she was beaming now. She gestured for Helga to look the thing over while setting another glass on the counter and dumping a nice measure of cranberry juice and some ice into it. She then downed it without a speck of alcohol in sight. “Turns out one of Toms boys is going back to doing graphic design freelance commissions. Poor kid got fired from his office job. Honestly he did a pretty good job. This one you’ve got is the Portobello and Swiss club sandwich.”\n\n\t“Oh god, I’m over 40” Helga read the words. She wanted to smile. She also wanted to hit her best friend for that. “You know it’s a bit early for either of us to be reading that. And you really think anyone is gonna order a sandwich with a name like that?”\n\n\t“It’s good, isn’t it?” Tabs huffed “You said yourself you liked it.”\n\n\tHelga could feel her prospective arguments dulled when looking down at her hand to see the mostly finished half of sandwich she’d been downing. “Uh huh, and what was the name of the drink again?” Judgmental or not Helga couldn’t help but down the rest of the sandwich and go on to the other part. Even while eying the pickle and small smattering of fires that had been offered with it.\n\n\t“Black Chocobo.” Tabs beamed “And if people start to catch on with it I may end up making a few other colors. Hell I may do it anyways and just say ‘fuck em’. Not like they all have to be on the menu here. I bet those kids on that new video site would like it a lot.”\n\n\t“Please tell me this isn’t some kind of midlife crisis thing.” Helga sighed. “And you’re naming shit like the cartoon guy with the burger joint. The one with the same voice as the cartoon spy. What’s his face.”\n\n\t“H. Jon Benjamin” Tabs noted\n\n\t“That’s the voice actor, not the… never mind.” Soon enough the sandwich was gone and Helga leaned back on to her stool. Her boots grinding into the length of old pipe which ran along the bottom of the otherwise refurbished bar. “Look I’m happy you’re doing well. I really am. Thrilled even. But I don’t know why you need me here for it then. It seems like you have this all on lockdown.”\n\n\t“You know it!” Tabs huffed. Her smile was a bit too big. A bit too chipper… then it began to fade, just a touch. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I do. Tom sure as hell helps with that stuff. I just, I donno. It’s normal to want to show off to your best friend, right? Especially when you’re finally doing something right.”\n\n\tThere it was. The other shoe dropping. Helga reached out and put a paw over Tabs’. She tugged it closer and offered her friend the biggest, most sisterly smile she could. “Is that what this is all about? Tabs, you’ve got nothing to prove. Look, I know you fucked up last year. You fucked up bad. But this”\n\n\tTabs yanked her hand away. She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. Her smile only flickered for a half second before returning. It was enough, though. Enough to make Helga regret it. Enough to tell her she’d just poked the wrong old wound.\n\n\t“Don’t be silly.” Tabs sighed ‘This isn’t about any of that. I’m just stoked about the new stuff. Especially the slicer. We even do the Portobello and the cheeses first so vegetarians don’t have to worry about meat. Get it all in from local people, soak the mushrooms in soy sauce so it’s extra tasty. Learned that online. Got hooked up with a bakery for some decent bread. Plus I’m watching this cool guy on the internet a lot. He’s kinda like a mixology course. Makes lots of gamer shit too. Kinda how I imagine, well how I imagine someone I used to know will end up in ten years. Oh, wait! I almost forgot. Here I got some new motz sticks that I think you’re gonna like. I tried every one they had at the wholesaler”\n\n\tBefore Helga could protest she watched Tabs darting off into the kitchen once again. Honestly, at this point, she was beginning to wonder if she should just keep her mouth shut.\n\n--------------------\n\n\tOnce upon a time, Tabatha Blake would have loved the idea of owning a bar. Back in her 20s, the wolverine woman could imagine a version of her getting hammered and hitting on every cutie she could find. Tossing out shots of cheap bourbon to people who’d just spent all day riding a motorcycle and who would do so again that night with no regard for blood alcohol level.\n\n\tShe wasn’t quite sure if that would have been more or less dangerous than the path of an outlaw biker. It would have certainly been a less heroic way to die. Hammered off her ass on her own supply and getting popped over some SUV’s hood at one AM.\n\n\tShe glanced at the clock, and she smiled. It wasn’t even midnight yet. Over the past few weeks Tabs had begun to let her workers take more responsibility. Instead she relegated herself to doing prep work and helping set up for everyone and instead mainly came in to manage things from Friday though Sunday when it was busy.\n\n\tDrinking was something that Tabs needed to phase out. It really was as simple as that. It was a habit from a time when she could afford to be reckless and stupid. Something from back when life didn’t much matter to her. Or, as her therapist would say, It was a way to kill herself slowly without taking responsibility.\n\n\tNow here she was, only two drinks all week. Her laptop opened with half a dozen tabs and documents showing. The summer had been a good chance for her to re-learn all of the document programs she had largely stopped using after college. It was also a good excuse to snag a few books on the subject of business management and read up on the best ways to run a bar. \n\n\tSo now there she sat, leaned back in her favorite chair while listening to the anime about the bald guy that her streaming service had recommended for her. The schedule was freshly made and she’d written down everything they needed to order. \n\n\tShe hadn’t actually ordered anything yet. Tom had advised her against it. Instead she told Simba and Dusty how to do so with the vendors and shown them how to put said orders in. Casually, of course. One of them was going to be their general manager. Either the headstrong young biker boy who was road brothers with the previous owner, or the girl who was just ‘blowing around’ in her 20s and finding herself. Either way Tom has said things like this would ensure the two candidates basically made the decision themselves by showing who either ordered things or brought it up with her. It was about initiative.\n\n\tThat all felt a bit disingenuous to Tabs. Both were good kids after all. Even if it did feel odd that her natural reaction when thinking of 20-somethings was to call them ‘kids’. But Tom was a good friend. More importantly he knew how businesses worked and how to make them work well. He also knew how to make the boys drop to their knees and call him ‘daddy’. That little array of keys he kept around his neck was proof of that. Maybe if she’d talked to him before…\n\n\tThat line of thought died screaming as Tabs yanked her drink up off the table and slammed the contents of the can down her throat. There was a moment of physical shock as her tongue tasted a rush of candy-sweet Faygo rather than the hard spirits it instinctively longed for.\n\n\t“Rock n Rye my ass.” She snorted the words and glanced at the can a moment before tossing it off towards the kitchen. Leave it to an old pop company to name a flavor after a drink and have it taste nothing like the drink. Even if it was a bad drink. For a moment she smiled. The rage pushed everything else out. Then she remembered what she was happy she’d pushed out, and the malaise set in again. She gripped the pair of keys around her own neck. Mementos she hadn’t given up. Reminders of the first good time she’d had since her road days. A time when she’d done awful things. \n\n\tShe’d still been a gym teacher, then. A horrible person who contented herself with oggling cuties working out and then going home to drink herself stupid or fiddle with her bike. A bad space for her to be in but a better life than the one before. The one running guns and causing problems with her gang. \n\n\tThen she caught a couple of nerdy boys sneaking a Hentai doujin around in the locker room. She didn’t even know it was called Hentai back then. She just knew it was porn and should have gotten the lil dweebs suspended. Probably caused all kinds of problems with them at home if they were found out. So she did what any self-loathing semi-alcoholic train wreck would do. She blackmailed them into girl clothes and eventually let herself spiral until she had both of them acting as her own personal sissy bitches. Yet another great milestone in the wonderful existence that was Tabatha Blake.\n\n\tIt had been one hell of a school year. Now the boys were off in college and she’d finally done the right thing. Cut them off. No more fucking their lives up. No more putting herself in a situation where she had the power to do it again. For the second time in her life she’d avoided jail time she probably deserved for being a horrible person. Short of turning herself in, it felt the only way to atone would be to take that chance and make herself into something a bit less shit.\n\n\tSo that’s just what she did, at least for a while. Tabs turned her attention back down to the laptop screen and listened to the funny bald man be frustrated at being broke while she went over the notes Tom had helpfully provided her on what to look for when they finally got big enough to hire another bartender. Those two things kept her mind distracted for a good long while. And then they didn’t. And then she found herself staring at another open folder. A folder she kept telling herself she was going to delete. A folder buried in her porn folder, yet even more shameful than all the cute tied up sissy boys and occasional girls strewn about the place.\n\n\tThere were a few PDF files. Games for Tabletop books. Shadowrun, mostly. Also this Chummer program and the file for her own character. ‘Boarmay’. Helga would have gotten a kick out of that. Hell, Helga might actually get the ‘swanmay’ reference. Tabs only took the name because Justin had insisted it was something out of mythology or folklore or some shit. That and she liked it.\n\n\tFor a moment Tabs wondered if she should talk to Justin’s cousin about how much he’d charge to run a game for her, or if he was doing one she could get into, or something. She still saw him when she ran her Daemon army at the local game shop after all. They were… something adjacent to friends, right? Him and his wife? Maybe? She ignored the little nagging scream deep in her mind already telling her that was too close. The ache in her heart reminding her how badly everything could go if she let herself backslide like that. That same voice which told her to delete the folder. The same voice that told her not to open the innocuous second folder nested within it. The one simply labeled ‘pics’.\n\n\tShe clicked. Then she hurt. Collin. ‘Kathoey’ as she’d called him back then. A stupidly racist move on her part. Something she could easily blame on the ‘drunk and horny’ part of her brain. Even though that was ultimately ‘all’ of her brain at the time. Picture after picture of the cute red panda boy tied up. Posing. Showing off his caged crotch. Humping dildos he’d apparently snuck from his sisters room. He’d gone fro a bashful little dweeb to a degenerate little pervert with such ease that it couldn’t all be her. Except it was. It had to be. She’d fucked him up this badly. She had been his first. ‘Of age’ or not it still broke all kinds of laws and rules. It was still unethical, still a monstrous thing for her to do to someone else while she sat there reaching up towards 40.\n\n\tWorst of all were her feelings. It’d be one thing if she were just some monstrous old pervert. A sex offender who just happened to dodge the list. If looking at those pictures only made her horny instead of… instead of the damn pain welling up in her heart of hearts. Instead of the spear tip of longing shoved straight though her chest\n\n\t“Ok, fuck it! That’s done.” Tabs slammed the laptop shut hard and tossed it towards the couch. She hopped up from her chair and began marching towards the basement. Her paws trembled as she yanked the door open and clomped down towards the home gym she’d set up down there. She needed to work this off, and without excessive booze there was only one way.\n\n\t“A hundred pushups, A hundred situps, something about some squats, and plenty of juice” She growled.\n\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Collared Chapter 20: Dust off
By TerraMGP

\t‘Loaded Aces bar and grill’. That was what the new sign said out front. One of many investments into a small cement brick dive bar out along a branch road near Red Arrow highway. For ages the bar had been nothing more than a stopover for bikers and locals. A place kept alive more out of the sheer stubbornness of its former owner.

\tAce. A rather generic nickname for an old biker, assuming it was a nickname at all. Talk to any of his road brothers and most of them would have probably guessed the bar would shut down once the old dog had died. At the very least nobody would have expected the infusion of cash and hard labor. The fresh paint, the interior redesign of green pleather booth refits and checkerboard tables. Not to mention the actual addition of ‘grill’ and the implication of more than simple bar food on offer.

\tAll of these thoughts swirled in the mind of the black haired woman who sat at the currently empty bar. Not that she looked out of place. Helga was fairly fit. Middle age had bowed to her rigorous workout schedule and physically demanding job. She cut an imposing figure in cammo pants and heavy boots with a black muscle tee showing off her tattoos.

\tOnce upon a time, when she and her road sisters had stopped in to this bar among the many that littered their usual trip routes, she could recall a guilty little notion that she even looked a bit too classy for such a run down place. A silly thought, and easily dismissed. But it was odd she had it. Now she was almost feeling the opposite. Sitting there at the bar, alone, waiting on her best friend and the bar’s new owner.

\t“I still don’t know why I’m here.” Helga’s tone went from frustrated to dour. She shouldn’t have been. She knew that. Honestly it thrilled her to see her best friend thriving like this. The porcine woman hunched her elbows into the jewel-shined wood of the bar and listened to the heavy rummaging and rattling in the kitchen. A few instances of grumbling and swearing from Tabs further ensuring Helga that she didn’t have to worry.

\t“Look, just trust me on this, ok? I wouldn’t ask you out here if there wasn’t a good reason.” More mechanical whirring and other strange noises filled the empty bar. Helga looked over at the array of closed spirits, eyes darting back and forth. It was far too early to drink, but she’d probably punch someone for a glass of OJ right about then. Maybe even a nice bit of fresh grapefruit juice.

\tFinally, painfully, Tabs made her way back out of the kitchen. She set a plate down in front of Helga, then in a shockingly deft motion pulled up a glass and a jigger from behind the bar. A measure of two different spirits went into the tool and then to the glass before Helga could even register what she was seeing. Then ice, then a split second later a blast of what looked to be cola finished it off, before finally the whole thing was given a nice tiny stir from a bar spoon.

\t“Well that was… overly dramatic.” Helga scoffed. She looked at the drink a long moment, then back to the plate. The sandwich was hefty. It also looked rather good. A nice big club the likes of which she hadn’t had much of late. She pulled the bread apart and examined the contents for a moment, then yanked out the toothpick and gave it a nice hearty bite.

\tThe experience from that point on could only be described as excruciating. Not because of the sandwich. Indeed, the longer she chawed the more enamored Helga became. Much of that was probably just due to being hungry. But it was good. Unfortunately Tabs wouldn’t stop staring at her. Any enjoyment that could be had quickly dampened the longer her road sister’s sharp green eyes hammered at her. She was begging for input like some lost little puppy and Helga knew it. That, as much as her hunger, kept her chawing that much longer.

\t“Well?” Tabs almost squealed. She gestured her head to the drink. Helga sighed and brought the glass to her muzzle for a small sip. That only made it worse. If Helga had ever had children, she could imagine this was what it’d be like when one of them did something and wanted praise. And just like that the day-drinking wasn’t quite so distasteful.

\t“It’s good” Helga’s words sparked a childlike thrill from Tabs. One that Helga herself both hated and loved to see. She cupped the glass in her hand and rolled it around, looking though the dark murky drink with hints of a more golden brown coming in though the light. Her eyes shifting from it towards the smirking wolverine. “This is the drink you made before, right? The one nobody orders because it’s some kind of nerd reference?”

\t“Look, It’s based on a different drink so I named it after that drink. Though I did tweak it some. Now it’s more like a Jack and Coke. Except with one and a half ounces of Jameson and a half ounce of Barenjager. Which… no you’ve never heard of that. But it’s good, right? Plus I used Vanilla coke. I thought it’d be a pain in the ass to set that up but Tom just had the balls to ask the people doing the install if that was something they could set up and it turns out it doesn’t cost us much more. We just gotta order a few flavored syrups and we can add them to any pop we want.”

\t“you are… really getting into this.” Helga snickered “And the sandwich? What, you guys gonna start serving something more than the typical bar food?”

\tTabs was quick to pull up an object that Helga had never in her life expected to see in the little dive bar. A menu. Carefully laid out, graphically clean, firmly laminated and shining new.

\tIf Tabs had been proud before she was beaming now. She gestured for Helga to look the thing over while setting another glass on the counter and dumping a nice measure of cranberry juice and some ice into it. She then downed it without a speck of alcohol in sight. “Turns out one of Toms boys is going back to doing graphic design freelance commissions. Poor kid got fired from his office job. Honestly he did a pretty good job. This one you’ve got is the Portobello and Swiss club sandwich.”

\t“Oh god, I’m over 40” Helga read the words. She wanted to smile. She also wanted to hit her best friend for that. “You know it’s a bit early for either of us to be reading that. And you really think anyone is gonna order a sandwich with a name like that?”

\t“It’s good, isn’t it?” Tabs huffed “You said yourself you liked it.”

\tHelga could feel her prospective arguments dulled when looking down at her hand to see the mostly finished half of sandwich she’d been downing. “Uh huh, and what was the name of the drink again?” Judgmental or not Helga couldn’t help but down the rest of the sandwich and go on to the other part. Even while eying the pickle and small smattering of fires that had been offered with it.

\t“Black Chocobo.” Tabs beamed “And if people start to catch on with it I may end up making a few other colors. Hell I may do it anyways and just say ‘fuck em’. Not like they all have to be on the menu here. I bet those kids on that new video site would like it a lot.”

\t“Please tell me this isn’t some kind of midlife crisis thing.” Helga sighed. “And you’re naming shit like the cartoon guy with the burger joint. The one with the same voice as the cartoon spy. What’s his face.”

\t“H. Jon Benjamin” Tabs noted

\t“That’s the voice actor, not the… never mind.” Soon enough the sandwich was gone and Helga leaned back on to her stool. Her boots grinding into the length of old pipe which ran along the bottom of the otherwise refurbished bar. “Look I’m happy you’re doing well. I really am. Thrilled even. But I don’t know why you need me here for it then. It seems like you have this all on lockdown.”

\t“You know it!” Tabs huffed. Her smile was a bit too big. A bit too chipper… then it began to fade, just a touch. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I do. Tom sure as hell helps with that stuff. I just, I donno. It’s normal to want to show off to your best friend, right? Especially when you’re finally doing something right.”

\tThere it was. The other shoe dropping. Helga reached out and put a paw over Tabs’. She tugged it closer and offered her friend the biggest, most sisterly smile she could. “Is that what this is all about? Tabs, you’ve got nothing to prove. Look, I know you fucked up last year. You fucked up bad. But this”

\tTabs yanked her hand away. She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. Her smile only flickered for a half second before returning. It was enough, though. Enough to make Helga regret it. Enough to tell her she’d just poked the wrong old wound.

\t“Don’t be silly.” Tabs sighed ‘This isn’t about any of that. I’m just stoked about the new stuff. Especially the slicer. We even do the Portobello and the cheeses first so vegetarians don’t have to worry about meat. Get it all in from local people, soak the mushrooms in soy sauce so it’s extra tasty. Learned that online. Got hooked up with a bakery for some decent bread. Plus I’m watching this cool guy on the internet a lot. He’s kinda like a mixology course. Makes lots of gamer shit too. Kinda how I imagine, well how I imagine someone I used to know will end up in ten years. Oh, wait! I almost forgot. Here I got some new motz sticks that I think you’re gonna like. I tried every one they had at the wholesaler”

\tBefore Helga could protest she watched Tabs darting off into the kitchen once again. Honestly, at this point, she was beginning to wonder if she should just keep her mouth shut.

--------------------

\tOnce upon a time, Tabatha Blake would have loved the idea of owning a bar. Back in her 20s, the wolverine woman could imagine a version of her getting hammered and hitting on every cutie she could find. Tossing out shots of cheap bourbon to people who’d just spent all day riding a motorcycle and who would do so again that night with no regard for blood alcohol level.

\tShe wasn’t quite sure if that would have been more or less dangerous than the path of an outlaw biker. It would have certainly been a less heroic way to die. Hammered off her ass on her own supply and getting popped over some SUV’s hood at one AM.

\tShe glanced at the clock, and she smiled. It wasn’t even midnight yet. Over the past few weeks Tabs had begun to let her workers take more responsibility. Instead she relegated herself to doing prep work and helping set up for everyone and instead mainly came in to manage things from Friday though Sunday when it was busy.

\tDrinking was something that Tabs needed to phase out. It really was as simple as that. It was a habit from a time when she could afford to be reckless and stupid. Something from back when life didn’t much matter to her. Or, as her therapist would say, It was a way to kill herself slowly without taking responsibility.

\tNow here she was, only two drinks all week. Her laptop opened with half a dozen tabs and documents showing. The summer had been a good chance for her to re-learn all of the document programs she had largely stopped using after college. It was also a good excuse to snag a few books on the subject of business management and read up on the best ways to run a bar.

\tSo now there she sat, leaned back in her favorite chair while listening to the anime about the bald guy that her streaming service had recommended for her. The schedule was freshly made and she’d written down everything they needed to order.

\tShe hadn’t actually ordered anything yet. Tom had advised her against it. Instead she told Simba and Dusty how to do so with the vendors and shown them how to put said orders in. Casually, of course. One of them was going to be their general manager. Either the headstrong young biker boy who was road brothers with the previous owner, or the girl who was just ‘blowing around’ in her 20s and finding herself. Either way Tom has said things like this would ensure the two candidates basically made the decision themselves by showing who either ordered things or brought it up with her. It was about initiative.

\tThat all felt a bit disingenuous to Tabs. Both were good kids after all. Even if it did feel odd that her natural reaction when thinking of 20-somethings was to call them ‘kids’. But Tom was a good friend. More importantly he knew how businesses worked and how to make them work well. He also knew how to make the boys drop to their knees and call him ‘daddy’. That little array of keys he kept around his neck was proof of that. Maybe if she’d talked to him before…

\tThat line of thought died screaming as Tabs yanked her drink up off the table and slammed the contents of the can down her throat. There was a moment of physical shock as her tongue tasted a rush of candy-sweet Faygo rather than the hard spirits it instinctively longed for.

\t“Rock n Rye my ass.” She snorted the words and glanced at the can a moment before tossing it off towards the kitchen. Leave it to an old pop company to name a flavor after a drink and have it taste nothing like the drink. Even if it was a bad drink. For a moment she smiled. The rage pushed everything else out. Then she remembered what she was happy she’d pushed out, and the malaise set in again. She gripped the pair of keys around her own neck. Mementos she hadn’t given up. Reminders of the first good time she’d had since her road days. A time when she’d done awful things.

\tShe’d still been a gym teacher, then. A horrible person who contented herself with oggling cuties working out and then going home to drink herself stupid or fiddle with her bike. A bad space for her to be in but a better life than the one before. The one running guns and causing problems with her gang.

\tThen she caught a couple of nerdy boys sneaking a Hentai doujin around in the locker room. She didn’t even know it was called Hentai back then. She just knew it was porn and should have gotten the lil dweebs suspended. Probably caused all kinds of problems with them at home if they were found out. So she did what any self-loathing semi-alcoholic train wreck would do. She blackmailed them into girl clothes and eventually let herself spiral until she had both of them acting as her own personal sissy bitches. Yet another great milestone in the wonderful existence that was Tabatha Blake.

\tIt had been one hell of a school year. Now the boys were off in college and she’d finally done the right thing. Cut them off. No more fucking their lives up. No more putting herself in a situation where she had the power to do it again. For the second time in her life she’d avoided jail time she probably deserved for being a horrible person. Short of turning herself in, it felt the only way to atone would be to take that chance and make herself into something a bit less shit.

\tSo that’s just what she did, at least for a while. Tabs turned her attention back down to the laptop screen and listened to the funny bald man be frustrated at being broke while she went over the notes Tom had helpfully provided her on what to look for when they finally got big enough to hire another bartender. Those two things kept her mind distracted for a good long while. And then they didn’t. And then she found herself staring at another open folder. A folder she kept telling herself she was going to delete. A folder buried in her porn folder, yet even more shameful than all the cute tied up sissy boys and occasional girls strewn about the place.

\tThere were a few PDF files. Games for Tabletop books. Shadowrun, mostly. Also this Chummer program and the file for her own character. ‘Boarmay’. Helga would have gotten a kick out of that. Hell, Helga might actually get the ‘swanmay’ reference. Tabs only took the name because Justin had insisted it was something out of mythology or folklore or some shit. That and she liked it.

\tFor a moment Tabs wondered if she should talk to Justin’s cousin about how much he’d charge to run a game for her, or if he was doing one she could get into, or something. She still saw him when she ran her Daemon army at the local game shop after all. They were… something adjacent to friends, right? Him and his wife? Maybe? She ignored the little nagging scream deep in her mind already telling her that was too close. The ache in her heart reminding her how badly everything could go if she let herself backslide like that. That same voice which told her to delete the folder. The same voice that told her not to open the innocuous second folder nested within it. The one simply labeled ‘pics’.

\tShe clicked. Then she hurt. Collin. ‘Kathoey’ as she’d called him back then. A stupidly racist move on her part. Something she could easily blame on the ‘drunk and horny’ part of her brain. Even though that was ultimately ‘all’ of her brain at the time. Picture after picture of the cute red panda boy tied up. Posing. Showing off his caged crotch. Humping dildos he’d apparently snuck from his sisters room. He’d gone fro a bashful little dweeb to a degenerate little pervert with such ease that it couldn’t all be her. Except it was. It had to be. She’d fucked him up this badly. She had been his first. ‘Of age’ or not it still broke all kinds of laws and rules. It was still unethical, still a monstrous thing for her to do to someone else while she sat there reaching up towards 40.

\tWorst of all were her feelings. It’d be one thing if she were just some monstrous old pervert. A sex offender who just happened to dodge the list. If looking at those pictures only made her horny instead of… instead of the damn pain welling up in her heart of hearts. Instead of the spear tip of longing shoved straight though her chest

\t“Ok, fuck it! That’s done.” Tabs slammed the laptop shut hard and tossed it towards the couch. She hopped up from her chair and began marching towards the basement. Her paws trembled as she yanked the door open and clomped down towards the home gym she’d set up down there. She needed to work this off, and without excessive booze there was only one way.

\t“A hundred pushups, A hundred situps, something about some squats, and plenty of juice” She growled.

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