A Lady with a Mission

Into McMorrigan's walked a woman attached to a pair of tits. That's barely an exaggeration: her bosom literally obscured most of Grimm's view of her body as she crossed the threshold. The rest of her body was still cast in shadow as Grimm caught a fantastic view of her chest.

The rest of her was pretty nice to look at, too. The second thing Grimm noticed about her was that she was bovine, like him. Dark brown fur covered her body, sharply contrasting with her mop of crimson hair. She'd styled her hair into an undercut -- Grimm immediately assumed this meant she wasn't a hoity-toity merchant or noble. Her face was mostly human, and if it weren't for the small pair of horns poking out from above her longish, floppy ears you might be tempted to think she was a particularly furry, abnormally busty human being. She was wearing a modified tunic that barely contained her jiggling udders, and a pair of tight pants that emphasized the curvature of her hips and thighs.

She was walking straight towards him. There weren't a lot of patrons in McMorrigan's -- it was still pretty early in the morning -- but the few schlubs milling around the joint stopped and stared at the cow as she passed. The cow didn't pay them any attention, though, looking straight at Grimm.

The bull's interest was piqued. He sat up in his seat, nearly knocking over his drink as he straightened up.

The cow reached his table. "Room for one more?" she asked, and before Grimm could answer the stranger plopped down in the chair across from him. People miles away would probably be able to hear the thunderous clap of the cow's tits against the hard surface of the wooden table. That's right: her chest balloons were so big they rested on top of the table.

"Uh, sure," Grimm replied too late. He instantly felt like an idiot for bothering to respond to a rhetorical question. "How can I --" He paused as the cow reached across the table and grabbed his mug. "Help you?"

The cow chugged the rest of the ale, then slammed the mug back down onto the table. The hard contact with the surface caused the table -- and by extension, her boobs -- to jiggle. The cow let out a satisfied sigh. She raised a hand, signaling the barman to bring over more ale. Then she turned to Grimm. Up close, Grimm noticed that the cow had a ring through her septum.

"Do you think you can help? Because I've asked a lot of people, and they've all been fucking useless." She glanced over at the bar, saw that the barman had not moved from his spot, and snorted. "Asshole. Is the service here always shit?"

Grimm chuckled and shot a glance at the barman. "Depends on who's working. Some of them are shit, some are really shit."

The cow sighed. "Wonderful. Listen, I wanna give you my spiel. But first I'm gonna need to milk some booze out of these hayseeds." Milk. The word made Grimm reflexively glance at his guest's bosom. Her cleavage seemed deep enough for him to climb into, as if she could carry him around in it like a joey in a kangaroo's pouch. After what felt like decades staring at those glorious mounds, the thought that this woman might actually pay Grimm crossed his mind, and he snapped back to attention.

"It's gonna take a minute for Dickless Dick to get over here, so why don't you go ahead and tell me --"

The cow wasn't having it. "Hey!" she shouted toward the bar, pounding the table. Another rippling earthquake. "Bring us some ale! Four mugs' worth!"

Dickless Dick threw his washing rag over his shoulder and put his hands up in mock offense.

"Why do they call him 'Dickless?'" she asked Grimm. "Did somebody cut his dick off for being so fucking slow?"

Grimm shook his head. "It's a long story." He glanced at the shrugging barman. "But I'm pretty sure he still has a dick."

"This is a stupid fucking bar." The cow tapped her fingers against the table. "Oh, shit! I'm Mars, by the way."

"Grimm."

"Fuck you, I think it's a pretty name."

"No, I'm saying my name is Grimm."

"Oh, fuck. Sorry." She reached across the table, took his hand, and shook it. Grimm was surprised by the strength behind Mars's hand. She wasn't big and burly, like him. He probably stood a full foot taller than her, and he was definitely wider than she was. But she wasn't a dainty powderpuff, either -- she definitely had some muscle.

"Alright, fuck it," the cow said. "Since it's gonna be fucking sundown before we get our ale, we might as well get down to brass tacks."

"Sounds good to me."

"Cool, I wasn't asking. I'll just get down to it: you're a big fucking guy." She looked him over. "And you look pretty tough."

Hey, thanks!

"I need a tough hombre to do a job for me. I'm willing to pay. Handsomely."

Grimm leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table to support his bulk. His arms came dangerously close to pressing against Mars's chest. "Go on."

"How much experience do you have? Pillaging-wise."

"Enough."

"Good answer. There's a jewel --"

A hand appeared at Mars's shoulder. It belonged to a local thug. He was a big bear man in light armor. Grimm recognized him but couldn't remember his name.

Grimm sighed and rolled his eyes. Mars had gone and done it. Some of the barmen at McMorrigan's deliberately ignored new patrons until they were pushed to the breaking point. It was a rite of passage: the new guy gets riled up; one of the resident goons takes offense and challenges the guy to a fight; they fight in front of everyone at the bar; and if the new guy is still conscious and he decides to stick around, he gets his drink. Women were usually exempt, because this was not exactly what you would call a feminist environment.

"Hey, little lady," the goon growled. Booze was on his breath. "I think you hurt Dickless' feelings." He pointed a thumb at the barman, who didn't seem upset in the slightest. "I think you should apologize."

Mars let out a small laugh. "Hey, Dickless!" she shouted. "I'm sorry you're a slow, useless fucker!"

The thug's grip tightened. "That wasn't very nice. Now you really need to say you're sorry."

Mars grinned. "How should I do that?"

"Well, little lady," the thug stopped talking to let out a hiccup, "you've got a nice set of lips there." She did, actually. "Good for dick-suckin'."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hmm. Maybe you should give me some lovin', say you're sorry." He burped.

"I thought I was supposed to apologize to Dickless Dick."

"Ah, fuck 'im," the stooge growled. "Come on now, give me --" He suddenly stopped. Mars had moved her hand up to his. She gripped it. Hard. The thug groaned in pain. "Hey! Let go!"

Grimm barely registered what happened next. With her hand still crushing the thug's, Mars bolted out of her seat. She twisted the thug's arm and kicked him in the back of the knee in one fluid motion, bringing him to the floor.

Grimm watched the scene in amusement. Not just because he loved a good scrap: no, Mars had given him more future spank material when she stood up. Up until now he hadn't seen the cow from behind, and he felt cheated. Mars's ass was huge. Even better, Grimm could see most of it: Mars' pants looked normal from the front, but the back half was mostly cut out. Mars's jiggling cheeks were fully visible from behind. The only thing keeping her from committing an act of public indecency was a black thong.

The goon yelped in pain. "L-let go!" he moaned, shuffling to his knees. Mars looked over at Grimm and flashed a toothy smile.

"Say it! Say you're sorry!" the cow exclaimed, glancing around the room. The patrons' eyes were fixed on the scene.

"I'm -- I'm sorry!" the thug cried. Mars twisted his arm some more. "I'm sorry!"

Mars planted one hand on the back of the bear's head. "Now show me!" Before the bear could respond, Mars slammed his head into her crotch, over and over again. She bucked her hips as she brought the bear's face into her crotch, miming a demented bout of enthusiastic cunnilingus.

Grimm suddenly realized that he was getting hard.

Mars had managed to dry-hump the thug into unconsciousness. She let his limp body drop. "Somebody clean that up," she said, delivering a quick kick to the guy's side. "And bring me some fucking drinks." She sat back down.

"Wow," Grimm said, unable to hide his smile.

"Fuck, I love ****," Mars said, leaning back in her seat.

Dickless Dick appeared at the table, carrying a tray with four mugs. He awkwardly sat them on the table, using what little space was available.

"Are they on the house?" Mars asked, taking a mug.

"We don't do that here."

"Even though I beat up your friend there?" She gestured toward the thug with her head.

"Eh. Fuck 'im."

Mars sighed and gave Dickless a coin, then sent him on his way. "Anyway," she said, before taking a long sip of her ale. She wiped her mouth with the back of her arm.

"There's a jewel," Grimm said, taking a sip of his own. "You said there was a jewel."

"Actually, let me back up first. So there's a witch --"

"A witch?"

"Yeah, a witch." With one swift motion Mars put her mug between her tits, using her cleavage as a resting place. Grimm glanced down at this, then back to her face. Mars didn't give him any notice. Clearly she was used to attention.

"So there's a witch," Mars continued. "In the mountains to the west. She has in her possession a jewel. I want that jewel."

"Family heirloom?"

"Not really. Precious artifact. I have a map." She reached into the small pack at her side, pulled out a map, and unfurled it in front of her face. "See?" She tapped a spot on the map with her finger. "I want you to go there, retrieve the jewel, and bring it here." She tapped another spot on the map.

Mars rolled the map back up and handed it over to Grimm. "Sound good?"

Grimm shook his head. "You're pretty tough," he said, taking another swig. "Why can't you do it?"

"Eh, I don't really want to."

"That's it? You don't want to? You're going to give me a lot of money because you're too lazy to do something yourself?"

"Okay, first, I never said I was going to pay you a lot of money. Secondly, go fuck yourself. I'm not lazy, I'm busy. I have other shit to do."

"Like?"

"I don't know you well enough to tell you. Listen, I'm offering some decent cash for a relatively simple job." She downed the rest of her ale, then slammed it back down onto the tray. She immediately grabbed another mug. "Go to the mountains, get the jewel, bring it to the specified location."

"Before I say yes," Grimm said, leaning forward a little more, "Give me a few good reasons why I should do this. I live a pretty cushy life here." A lie. "Why should I leave all this behind?" He gestured at the rest of the room with his beefy arms.

"Umm, it's a grand adventure? You'll probably get in a lot of fights?" Mars took a drink. "Oh, and it's in a bovine territory, so if you like cows, that's a perk."

Grimm grinned. "Interesting." He looked at the rolled-up map.

The bull nodded. "I'm in. But I want half up front."

"A quarter."

"A third."

"Deal." Mars tossed him a small pouch. Grimm caught it, felt the weight of decent coinage. "Set off as soon as possible. The sooner I get that jewel the better."

"How do you know I'm not going to rip you off?" Grimm asked with a grin. "I could just take these coins and get on with my life."

"I'll know if you double-cross me," Mars said, grinning back at him. "If you try to fuck me on this, I'm going to fuck you even harder." With that, she chugged her mug of ale, slammed it down on the table, wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, and let out a loud sigh. "Besides, I can tell you're an adventure junkie like me. You'll do it."

The cow stood up. "See you soon, Grimm." Then she turned around and walked off, giving Grimm another view of her glorious rump.

Grimm sat back in his seat and sighed. He had a job to do.