I was finally able to get a hold of Morgan through emails. She wanted me to come meet her at Cherry Pick again, but I knew how that would turn out. I decided enough was enough with the games and asked her to come to my place. She asked me what had changed my mind, which I took as a hint that Blog had probably used one excuse or another to avoid that scenario. I took the offensive, saying that it was time, she’d earned it, and I was going to make sure she’d get rewarded for showing up.
So she wrote back and accepted. That was on Monday. The appointment was last night. She showed up around 8PM, wearing a raincoat and carrying an umbrella. She shivered as she came in, even though it wasn’t that cold. (It was instantaneously obvious to me how aroused she was.) Under her coat, she was wearing a silk blouse, a jacket and a skirt. The blouse did little to conceal the two mounds of flesh that struggled against their boundaries. I noticed her breasts seemed to move freely, too — she wasn’t wearing a bra. I let my eyes drop a bit further down, noticing how high her skirt rode on her thighs. I could easily imagine my fingers reaching down then sliding up her legs, touching her moist junction. She gasped, almost as if she could read my mind. She squirmed a little.
“You have to…” she started, her voice trailing off. “Have to…”
I motioned for her to sit on the couch.Instead of complying, she made a quick decision and took me by surprise. She slammed her palms against my shoulders, throwing me down on the sofa. Without hesitation, she straddled me, her skirt riding higher and revealing she wasn’t wearing any underwear. She’d come prepared. A wild woman on a mission. Within moments, she was kissing me and struggling to get out of her jacket. She ripped her blouse open, broke the kiss, and guided my head to her breasts. Thanks to my faerie sight, I’d seen my share of women getting aroused and I could tell she was ramping up WAY too fast for this to be entirely normal. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I was getting into the heat of things myself, so one thing led to another. You know how it is. Less than a minute later, I was pumping madly inside her, my own heat fueled by her shrill cries of delight. When her orgasms came (there were many), they rocked her body so hard I thought she was being electrocuted. She didn’t need much time to recover, however, and we were back at it like wild weasels.
When we were both done and a little calmer, I cuddled with Morgan on the couch and absentmindedly played with one of her boobs.
“That was long in the coming, wasn’t it?”
She smiled. “But worth every second.”
It was time for us to have that conversation, I thought. No time like the present. Considering how difficult she was to find, who knew when we could talk about this again.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, hoping to sound light and casual. “Why me?”
She seemed to stiffen just a bit in my embrace.
“You’re pretty cute,” she said, her eyes averting mine. “Do I need a better reason?”
She wasn’t being honest, I could tell. There was something she didn’t want to say.
“Come on, ‘fess up!” I reached down to caress the intersection of her thighs. “I have ways to make you talk!”
She squirmed and laughed a little.
“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” she said.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen crazy and you’re not it.”
Though I had to admit, she’d done some pretty crazy shit in the past. The way she’d broken Lana and me up was pretty insane. Normal people didn’t do that. But to be fair, I live with faeries, and that’s pretty crazy too. I can’t exactly pretend my life’s not crazy either.
She must have sensed I was sincere, so she continued.
“I’m not like other people, I… Promise you’re not going to make fun of me, okay?”
There was real vulnerability in the way she said it. I nodded gravely.
“I… I have a curse. Many curses, actually…”
There it was. She was a victim of magic and she knew it. I didn’t say anything, just gave her the space to tell her story, and she took it She told me it had begun before she met me, at her previous job. She’d fired this man, a copy editor in his fifties who’d sexually harassed a female colleague. He promised her she’d pay for what she did. She didn’t know how he did it, but occasionally, when working at night, she started to get these odd sexual urges. Eventually, she switched jobs (that’s when we met), but the urges continued to occur, apparently centered around me. Things really span out of control around that time. Eventually, she ran into her former colleague, the one she’d fired, and he claimed he was the one doing all this to her. She thought he was crazy, but right then and there, he turned into a hot, wet, sexy mess, and she had no choice but to believe him.
I interrupted just long enough to confirm who that man was–the Hobo I’d met before. He never said how he could do all these things to her, but he gave her a choice: she could continue living like this, never knowing when she’d turn into a sex beast, or she could live with him. He would make sure she would live well and be happy. She turned him down initially, but the feelings of depravity got so bad she eventually relented. That’s where (and with whom) she’s been all this time: my nemesis, the Hobo.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I know I should know this, but I think he’s made me forget his real name. He just goes under a nickname, now.”
“What is it?”
“Old Crow.”
–Jaycee
For those looking for news of Morgan, I’m afraid she’s gone silent. No responses to my emails and she wasn’t there on Wednesday when I visited Cherry Pick (again!).
Thursday, Brooke dropped by. I’d warned her that Attitude was back, but the two hadn’t run into each other yet. Considering how much chaos Attitude had wrought in Brooke’s life, I was concerned it might not go all that well–and make things worse for Brooke. But Brooke, despite all her womanizing flaws, isn’t stupid, and her approach was surprising.
“You!” she exclaimed, feigning some shock at seeing Attitude.
The faerie eyed her warily. Her wings twitched a little, a sign I’d come to recognize as pre-curse hostility. Then Brooke continued.
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for what you’ve done,” she said.
Attitude wasn’t impressed.
“I’m sure you did,” the faerie said, her tone dripping with acid.
“I mean it. First there was my other body, then this one–and this one is GREAT! But you know what, going through these changes has taught me a lot…”
Attitude raised an eyebrow, her posture relaxing.
“Taught you what?”
“Well, how female anatomy works… How it… y’know, *responds* to stuff. And the best part is now, I can REALLY turn a girl on, even without a dick!”
“So I’ve…” Attitude started.
“…made me a better lover, yes!” Brooke finished. “So I’m not kidding, I owe you a LOT. So thanks.”
I watched Attitude carefully, wondering if she was buying it. Brooke certainly sounded sincere, enough so that I was tempted to believe her.
That’s when Attitude shrugged, waved a hand in Brooke’s direction, and flew away. A bright glow surrounded Brooke. It faded, leaving Brooke a little dazed, rubbing his temples.
Brooke didn’t look like Mandy anymore. Brooke looked like himself. The male self, I mean. I had my bro back!
“Brooke! You’re BACK!” I said, dragging him by the shoulders in front of a mirror.
“Holy shit! I’m ME!”
Then it hit him–Meghan!
“Oh shit, I’m me!”
Yeah, I thought, that might be a problem. From his female self to Mandy’s body, then back to his male self–there was enough chaos there to turn off even Meghan.
Then Brooke got a suspicious look and reached for his crotch. His expression told me all I needed to know. The return to his male body wasn’t complete.
From the cupboard above the fridge, I could hear Attitude howling with malicious laughter.
–Jaycee
I meant to go back to the Cherry Pick on Monday, but that didn’t go according to plan. I’d worked from a nearby cafe all afternoon, and when I came back, Jennifer was sitting with her back against my door, watching the corridor. Clearly, she wanted to make sure she wouldn’t miss me.
I suspected we were going to have some kind of talk about what happened last time. I didn’t need to be a genius (or to have faerie sight) to tell she got instantly excited as I came up to my floor from the staircase.
“Hey,” I said. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Couple of minutes,” she said, getting up. She held up a small backpack. “I got brewskis. Thought we could watch season 2 of Homeland together. Or something.”
“Sure,” I said, unlocking the door.
I let her in. We moved to the kitchen. I put a frozen pizza in the oven while she opened up some beers. She handed me one.
“Urk,” I said. “They’re pretty warm.”
“They were cold when I bought them,” she said.
“Uh huh,” I said, skeptical. “You sure you’ve been here for just a few minutes.”
She shrugged. “We should talk.”
“Yeah, I guess we do. But look, I don’t want it to be weird between us…”
“Me too,” she said. “The other night… I got a little crazy, y’know?”
“That’s… an understatement,” I said, noticing her arousal rising a little as she probably remembered what had happened.
“But we’re buds, right? That comes first, not… you know… sex.”
“Hey,” I said, “I get it.”
But the truth was, I didn’t really get it. She was hot for me, but she was sending signals that she just wanted to be friends.
“Okay, I’m glad we talked about it.”
Huh? As conversations went, that was pretty short. And deceptively painless. For a moment, the coward in me thought it was over and almost let it slide. But then, I noticed Attitude sitting on the fridge, glaring in my direction. I had a hunch there would be trouble if I tried to duck out of the REAL conversation we should be having, so I shook my head.
“No, we’re not done, Jen,” I said. “What happened… it wasn’t right.”
“What do you mean?” She looked at her beer, which she absentmindedly held in front of her impressive chest. I couldn’t help notice her nipples were very hard.
“You… want us to be more than just friends, don’t you?”
“Um… I don’t think I’d put it like that.” She put her beer on the counter and got closer to me. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot, lately. At night, I mean. I mean, during my sleep…”
Uh oh. Erotic dreams. I was willing to bet my left nut this was some kind of faerie trickery. She wrapped her arms around my neck and drew me closer. She looked up into my eyes and gave me a shy smile.
“Jen, we’re buds…”
She was pushing her breasts against my chest. Then she pulled my head in and her lips met mine in a soft kiss. She held me there for a few moments, then broke the kiss.
“We’re buds, and that comes first. But I’ve had the hots for you for YEARS, y’know? And you’ve never really seen me. Even after I got these.” She pointed at her boobs, still squashed against my chest. “But now, I know what I want. Heck, I got what I want, and I liked it.”
“Um… so what does this mean?”
“I liked it, like I said. And I want it again. I don’t want you to be my boyfriend, I just want… y’know, YOU.” She slid a hand into my pants. “And I’m pretty sure you want ME, too.”
I put my beer down on the counter and kissed her. So, friends-with-benefits it would be, I guessed. We’d probably need to define some guidelines later, but at that moment, I just decided to go with it. We started peeling off each other’s clothes, then one thing led to another. We lost track of time.
Oh, and we never got to eat that pizza. We got interrupted during our busy work when the apartment fire alarm blared, signaling our forgotten dinner had burned to a crisp in the oven.
It was worth it, I say.
I went back to Cherry Pick on Saturday night, this time with Minx in tow. After an hour of waiting to see if Morgan was in there, I asked one of the waitress about her. She gave me a sour face and explained, apparently not for the first time, that Morgan was NOT there that night, that she was working that OTHER job where she takes care of clients in a more.. intimate setting. Apparently, she only worked Mondays thru Fridays.
So I decided to watch a few more girls while I finished my beer. From the safety of my jacket pocket, Minx observed the strippers as they danced. She then discreetly fluttered to my ear and commented on their lack of enthusiasm.
“It’s like they don’t WANT to be there,” she added.
“Most of them just go through the motions because they’ve done this hundreds of times. It just doesn’t excite them much anymore. And I think some just don’t want to get all sweaty because they might get clients afterwards. They feel it’d be yucky or something.”
“Aw… But wouldn’t they get more clients if they were a bit livelier?”
“Guess so.” I shrugged, sipping my beer and glancing at the girl on stage. Her name was Shanelle. She was nice to look at, but her blank expression clearly showed she was a thousand miles from the stage, lost in some kind of reverie. She did look bored.
Minx must have taken my answer as some kind of approval and flung some invisible magic (which only I could see) toward Shanelle. She immediately missed a beat and leaned against the nearest pole. A beat later, her body jerked a little, like she’d received some kind of shock. Another moment, another shock. I half-turned toward Minx, keeping my eyes on Shanelle.
“What did you do?”
“Oh, just a little ‘beat vibration.’ Every time there’s a beat, she feels a little buzzing between her legs.”
“Seriously? This is going to be a LONG song for her…”
On the stage, the girl was rapidly losing control. The song that was playing wasn’t very fast, but if you count eight beats per bar, and dozens of bars left before the song would end, you could tell where this was headed. Within 10-15 seconds, her hips were jerking involuntarily. She obviously struggled to remain professional and finish her set, but I could tell she was getting hotter by the second. She knelt on the floor, knees apart, clearly making an effort to keep her hands away from her crotch. Hips bucking, she slide forward, pushing her boobs against the cold floor. Yeah, now she was feeling it all right…
Poor Shanelle spent almost a minute twisting herself in dozens of inviting positions. It wasn’t very obvious to onlookers because of the black lingerie she was wearing, but she was incredibly wet. These constant vibrations HAD to be driving her nuts. Finally, as the set was getting to a close, she couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed a pole, lifted herself up, and ground her hips and crotch sexily against it. With every beat, her body jerked stronger and she sighed louder. The sighs became moans, the jerks became spasms. Holding the pole with both hands, she froze, her mouth open wide in a silent scream, and her whole body shook as she rode a crazy, public orgasm.
The music stopped and she collapsed on her knees, gasping for air. Then, she realized what had just happened and quickly left the stage. The crowd of guys applauded her enthusiastically.
Me, I kind of felt bad for her, so I asked her for a few lap dances when she reappeared.
–Jaycee
Looks like my life got complicated again.
Last night, I was supposed to meet Morgan at the Cherry Pick, a bar she said would be perfect for our reunion. Perfect indeed: it’s a strip joint, and not a good one at that. It’s in a pretty seedy area of town and you can tell from the entrance that it’s not going to be a great experience.
Regardless, I’ve been looking for Morgan for so long (I’d pretty much given up, I admit), it felt like the least I could do. At the same time, I was on guard, half expecting that freaky Hobo with the Funcam to try something. But no, no one in sight.
Our meeting was at 9PM, but I got there a little early because I was afraid I might get lost on the way. We’d agreed to meet inside, so I asked to be seated at a table in a far corner, ordered a beer, and waited for Morgan to show up. I kept glancing at the door, but she wasn’t there yet. 9PM rolled around, still no Morgan. The announcer kept announcing one girl after the next, always in that exceedingly dramatic and excited voice. (Is it just me, or these guys all sound the same? Do they go to a Strip Club Announcer School or something?) This girl Celeste climbed on the stage and started her act. She had a pretty hot body. She looked familiar and for a brief moment, I thought she might have been a friend of Roseanne. Then it hit me!
That was Morgan!
And BOY did she put on an amazing number! If you’ve ever been to a strip club (or talked to strippers), the dancing can sometimes be a tedious affair, performed without much conviction or effort. But not Morgan/Celeste, no way! She was flinging her body parts in all directions with wild enthusiasm, and ground her crotch against the pole like she REALLY wanted it inside her. And her breasts–sweet Jeebas, had she had some work done? They were spectacular! Flawless!
She finished her number and the few clients who were there applauded enthusiastically. On her way to the ladies room, she noticed me and her whole body suddenly jerked. She almost tripped, recovered, and blew me a little kissed. She held up a finger, suggesting “wait for me a minute” before vanishing in the restrooms.
So, from magazine editor to stripper–what a career choice. I had to believe that Hobo was behind it and looked for him in the room. Nope, nowhere. I returned my attention to my beer and reviewed my strategy in my head. Morgan would expect me to be the one she’d been in contact with all this time. There would be huge gaps in my knowledge, so I would just have to play along or make things up as I went. Next on stage: Cinnamon…
Morgan appeared next to my table and sat on a chair next to me. She put her hand on my arm, kissed me on the cheek, and snuggled to my side to make sure her thighs connected to mine. I knew enough about strippers to understand this was a standard trick to get me excited, but my faerie sight also confirmed Morgan’s own arousal was genuine. In fact, she was so horny that I found it a little contagious myself. I mean, what do you expect? I was sitting next to a hot woman who wanted nothing more than take me to her bed and let me have my way with her. Don’t tell me that wouldn’t get YOU excited!
“Thanks for coming,” she whispered in my ear, emphasizing the last word. (Or maybe that was just my imagination.)
“It’s okay… I wanted to see you.”
“Really? You… kept saying we shouldn’t, because it’d break the magic of the fantasies…”
Play along, I thought.
“Y-yes, but then, I kept imagining looking at you, touching you… and I can’t take it anymore.”
Her eyes shone and her arousal went up three notches. She grabbed my hand and got up.
“Good. Come with me!”
She dragged me along with great resolve. Within moments, and a five-dollar tip later, we were in a private booth in the VIP section. Morgan immediately sat on me and started gyrating, hands behind her head, breasts (covered) inches from my face.
“Oooh, I’ve been dreaming of this for so long…”
Great, I thought. Lap dances from the hottest boss I’ve ever had. This was headed South fast. Maybe some conversation… What’s going on with your life, how’s work, any big dreams you’re working on? I was still thinking of an angle when I noticed her excitement was flaring up out of control. Uh oh… And yes, within ten-fifteen seconds of starting the dance, she was grabbing my face and shoving it between her boobs as she was having a very frantic, wet orgasm that lasted half a minute.
I was hoping she’d be sated and we could talk for a while, but she ripped her top off, threw it away, and shoved a hard nipple into my mouth. Great gazoongas! That kind of thing just isn’t done! This is against the rules in all strip clubs I know, and if you get caught, well, it’s not good. And she kept grinding her crotch against my leg like it was the only thing keeping her alive. Again, a rocking orgasm.
Again, I tried to talk, but she turned her back to me and sat straight onto my erection (yeah, guess what, I had one!). And then, more grinding and rubbing, and all thoughts of conversation slipped from my mind until she came again. Then she face me, pulled her bottoms sideways and revealed how wet and ready she REALLY was. (She couldn’t tell I knew this already, and I didn’t mind having such a clear picture.) She grabbed my wrist and guided my hand (specifically, my middle finger) straight to the area that needed work. I kind of forgot where I was and what I was doing, and I bet you would’ve too!
So I was in the middle of THAT job when the curtain of our booth was flung open. A large black man in a suit appeared behind Morgan/Celeste, grabbed her by the shoulders, and pulled her away from me as if she weighed nothing. He looked upset and I knew this wasn’t the kind of man you wanted to upset.
“Buddy, you know the rules! No touching there! Get out!”
Ah… Okay, that night didn’t turn out the way I thought… I got up, intending to leave as ordered.
“Not so fast,” he growled, putting a heavy paw on my shoulder. “Four dances?” he asked, glancing at Morgan. She nodded. “Four dances. That’s $60.”
I didn’t want to argue. I pulled the money from my pocket and handed it to him. He counted the money, but seemed dissatisfied.
“Tipping is sexy,” he added. His stare made it clear that I was GOING to be sexy, whether I wanted to or not. I added $15 to the sum, which apparently met with his approval.
“Now get out,” he ordered. “Exit this way.”
I looked at Morgan with questioning eyes. She gave me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.
“Thank you for coming,” she said.
And then I found myself on the sidewalk, wondering what had just happened.
–Jaycee
I’ll get back to Attitude’s recent mischief in a moment, but since I haven’t talked about my life here in a good while, I should probably recap the last few months for your benefit.
I’m still working as a freelance writer, usually from home. Sometimes, I go in coffee shops, just so I can see people. Minx occasionally joins me and plays pranks on unsuspecting customers (usually minor stuff, like embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions).
I’m not dating anyone. After gaining faerie sight, it became pretty easy to pick up girls. It was a great boost to my self-confidence. I realized, however, that I was headed down a very slippery slope, morally speaking. Minx didn’t really understand why my problem was, but she helped me tune out the ability so that I don’t really notice sexual arousal unless I deliberately want to see it.
I dated Fredrika for a while, but it didn’t work out. I’ve come to realize I like girls with strong, bold personalities, and Fredrika was a bit too much of a wallflower for my taste.
Brooke and Meghan are still together. They share an apartment near the Old Port. It’s pretty posh.
I have no clue where Mandy is gone. She’s still MIA.
But now, back to the recent events. More specifically, let’s talk about Blog, that entity that had “invaded” my electronic space. It looked like something living in the cloud, in the vicinity of my website. It’s been wiped clean now, but it’s been keeping busy for the last year and change. Keeping busy doing what, you ask? Keeping busy maintaining a relationship with Morgan, of all people!
So here’s what happened (again, put together from my conversations with Minx and Attitude): Blog kept electronic contact with Morgan, my former sexy MILF of a boss. It went as far as impersonating me (video and audio) through Skype conversations. I’ve found the logs of those conversations, too. For some reason, Blog seemed to enjoy recording them. It seems to have learned a lot about me over time and did a very credible model of my appearance. And for reasons that are still beyond me at this time, it preyed on Morgan’s weird attraction to me, and had her do all sorts of very sexual things for the camera. (Seriously, I know people who’d PAY to see what she did.)
But that stuff isn’t the important (or most interesting) part of what happened. Blog’s logs have allowed me to find Morgan’s electronic contact info. So last night, I contacted her. I didn’t let on that I wasn’t the copy of myself (and I realize how weird this sounds as I write it), just to avoid alarming her. I’m still not sure what happened to her, but I want to find out. She’s in town, but didn’t want to tell me where she lives. We’ve agreed to meet in person. This surprised her a little, apparently because “I’ve” repeatedly refused to do it in the last year, but she was thrilled that I’d changed my mind. (From the way she talked, she’s way deeper into this relationship than I am, and I have to be careful about what I say and do, if I don’t want to spook her.)
So we’re meeting tomorrow night at some bar, the Cherry Pick. I’ll tell you more about it after I’ve meet her. Maybe this will be an opportunity to catch that Hobo that’s been torturing her…
–Jaycee
Attitude is back.
Some of you may have noticed some difficulties with the site in the last few weeks (including a blank page, wonky navigation, loss of old posts, etc.). You would think by now I’d have figured out that whenever something goes wrong, it’s because of a faerie. I didn’t use to think that, but the last years have definitely taught me the truth of that. So yes, it was Attitude’s fault.
But perhaps I should start from the beginning. I’ve pieced together what happened from talking to Minx, from some Attitude’s own comments, and by deducing the rest.
Attitude has been back in my flat since the beginning of February, more or less. Because she has seniority over Minx, especially where I’m concerned, she made Minx promise to keep silent about her return. Upon learning that Minx had shared her name with me, she became furious. While she understood why Minx had done it (I’d saved her life), it meant she could not directly affect me anymore.
So she did the next best thing: she “talked” to something called Blog. Apparently this “Blog” is a techno-magical entity (that’s my word for it) she created within my site a long time ago. She says it was there to “become me” and mess things up a little (more on that later). Attitude was so angry that she asked Blog to trash the site. Blog was very happy to do so and snuck in a bunch of malicious code everywhere in the site. This led to the blank page some of you may have encountered. (I’m glad to report that this was resolved and Blog no longer exists within my site, but there’s more to THAT story).
Attitude may not have been able to curse me directly, but that doesn’t mean she was helpless. She looked at the people in my life and decided to have some fun with them. And this leads to… Jennifer. She and I have been like brother and sister for the longest time (long-time readers of my blog know she’s just a friend to me). Attitude, however, decided to change that. Just this past Wednesday, Jennifer & I came back to my place after going to the movies. We decided to play some Guitar Hero for a bit. After a few games, however, Jennifer’s eyes flew wide open. Thanks to my faerie sight, I saw her arousal levels rocket skyward and break the sound barrier. She let out a sharp yelp and turned to face me. I realized I was in trouble and moved to stand up, but she was faster and pushed me back into the couch. She quickly straddled me, lifted her shirt and shoved her large dreamy boobs into my face.
Okay, let me pause the action for a moment. Folks, I’m just a guy. You shove these kinds of breasts in my face and I’m going to have an erection, no matter how I feel about the owner of aforementioned boobs.
So yeah, we did it. Un-pause.
And then, we did it again. And a few more times after that. Jennifer was quite the manic sex beast–something I didn’t expect from a shy girl like her. Even after several orgasms, I could see her horniness stayed at “11.” She wasn’t relenting. She kept looking down at her crotch in disbelief, as if it was a separate part of her that was out of control, and she couldn’t understand why it wasn’t satisfied. But understanding wasn’t required, just satisfaction. Even when I went soft, she found other ways for me to give her orgasms. I’ll tell you, she was pretty creative.
And suddenly, it stopped and she fell to the ground, exhausted and breathing heavily. I got up to bring her some water, but while I was in the bathroom, I heard the apartment door close. I peered outside–Jennifer was gone.
After that incident, I grilled Minx to learn more about why she did this to Jennifer, but she shook her head and remained tight lipped about what happened. I was about to get upset when I heard a familiar voice. It dripped with an anger and contempt I immediately recognized.
“Leave her out of this. This was my doing.”
Yeah. Attitude was back.
Sometimes, things don’t quite turn out the way faeries expect them to… 🙂
–Jaycee
Hi,
The site has had some severe problems and I’m very sorry for the difficulties you may have had in reaching it. I’ve been able to more or less salvage SOME of the content, but it’s possible the entire backlog of blog entries are gone for good. I’ve been able to put up the current strip but not the old/previous ones. I’m going to try and get them back up ASAP. In the meantime, I apologize for the ugliness and sloppiness of the content. I’ll do my best to fix this ASAP.
–Jaycee
Hey all,
On the side, I’ve been working with some very nice fellows (from Montreal, Canada) to organize and publish TWO new webcomics:
The everyday adventures of a videogame heroine trying to make it in a world of puppets. Brought to you by Lucien Soulban (writer) and Ghislain Barbe (artist).
The mundane woes of an evil king dealing with reality, family members, and bad finances. Brought to you by Henbe.
I’m extremely proud to be able to assist in getting those published. Hope you give them a shot and leave them some comments.
–Jaycee
Guess who came early this year?
No, not Santa, of course not. It’s Heather, as always. And this year, she’ll be featured in a guest strip/pinup by Navarro/Cabrera (a.k.a. PortalComic), delivered to you on Monday in lieu of the usual Wondollar strip. If you find yourself wondering what led to this naughty situation, you can always become a member. Or, if you don’t want to commit to a regular payment, why not visit the store and purchase the bundle of comics available there? It’s a great value and you only buy what you want.
Best Wishes for the Holiday Season.
–Jaycee
Available in tons of styles, sizes and colors at
CafePress.com.
