Your Name: hypertronicsuperstar
Venus' Personality: “Vanity is my favourite sin.” Having once been highly successful in the conformation ring, Venus is the very definition of amour propr, but who said vanity had to mean spending hours in front of the mirror? Unless, of course, when standing in front of that mirror, you’re abiding by your own “look but don’t touch” policy – why would you tamper with something already so purr-fect? Although Venus has no qualms about admiring her own, in the company of others, she prefers to let
them do the admiring; she’s quite content to sit back and listen to her kits, her mate or anyone who’s not too shy to give a compliment!
With Apollo’s recent absences, however, and with her kits having moved out from under her care, Venus has been withering slightly under the lack of anything more than monotone attention. Knowing that one way to achieve the desired result – ooh’ing and aww’ing – can be earned from one of the many tom cats round and out, many of which seem cast under her spell, Venus likes to spend her days alone prettying herself up and strutting her stuff about the town. Find someone good-looking, or even not so much, who seems interested, and she might even flirt. Nothing wrong with that, right? Never mind that if she found out Apollo was flirting with other she-cats, she might feel stung and insecure.
Her flirting is harmless, and boy does it make a gal feel attractive!
Are you willing to carry on her family relationship?: Yes
Prompt: Venus' Kittens have all moved out and Apollo her mate is off on a journey. I want to see a day in the life of Venus.
I’m a b***h, I’m a tease, I’m a Goddess on my knees, when you’re hurt, when you suffer, I’m your angel undercover ~ Her hips wagged to the beat of the music as she cranked up the volume, the tip of her tail thrashing wildly as she grabbed at the air and mimed the act of yanking a microphone out of its stand, belting the words into her fist. Her free hand grasped at stray tendrils of golden blonde, fingers tracing her face, her mouth, outlining the curves of her breast and belly before she planted it firmly against her hip. There she finished out the song, holding the last note before she dropped her simulated microphone and curtseyed to the play pretend audience, soaking up their applause – no, their standing ovation! – before she opened her golden eyes and grinned seductively at her reflection. God, she loved that song.
She used her thumb to spread an even layer of lip gloss over her lips; her mouth smacked with satisfaction. Venus had never needed much make-up to feel pretty, let alone to
be pretty. A little bit of lip gloss, a thin line of eyeliner to accentuate the colour of her eyes, and she was guaranteed to stop more than a few hearts. Placing both hands on her hips, she lifted the curve of her tail, pressing the arch of it into the small of her back and examining her hourglass figure from every angle. She had on a short dress that inched only slightly past her thighs, a zebra stripe pattern that hung gingerly from one shoulder; the other cream coloured shoulder sparkled with glitter. Underneath, she wore tight black leggings that stopped halfway down her calves; her toned legs led to slim ankles led to high heels – one white, one black. Her kittens had left, Apollo was off, so why
shouldn’t she be allowed to live it up? After all, there were certain things a proper dame simply couldn’t live without – let alone one who’d lived most of her life being ooh’ed and aww’ed over – and the most important thing was, put simply, attention.
Letting out a satisfied purr, she snatched her purse from the countertop, blew a satisfied kiss and left the house.
xoxo
Though the sun was warm, there was a slight breeze, and Venus’ confidence faltered momentarily. Despite the fact she almost always went out with her hair in an up-do, kept in place by a set of mahogany chopsticks and lord knows how many bobby pins, she always managed to find a few stray tendrils of hair that couldn’t be pinned back no matter how much she might have liked to. She’d been told by many that this slightly messy, slightly undone hairdo reflected the fire in her soul and that it echoed the wild and untamed spirit that burned within her core, but this went against her almost instinctual belief that a lady should never go out without every inch and fibre of her being exactly in the place she had wanted it to be. After all, back when she’d been living a life of glamour and luxury, it had taken hours to get her to point of astonishing the judges with her natural beauty, never mind the fact it was a natural beauty that had been tampered with. What was wrong with accentuating one’s natural features? Granted she’d almost always had someone to do her fur for her, to trim her nails, clean her eyes, her ears... But that was a thing of the past. That life was over and done with, and it was best she learn to leave that past behind her.
She turned into a corner café, immediately struck by the hot scent of coffee, the cool smell of whipped cream and the warm stench of body odour wafting off the employees as they worked as busily as any Starbucks’ employee. Almost immediately, she felt all eyes turn towards her, and immediately, she went into the false concerto that was being Venus. A half-smile snaked innocently across her lips, one ear flicking in an act of self-consciousness and she wrapped her tail timidly round her hips, the tip of it running
seductively nervously up the inside of her thigh. Her toes curled in her heels, and she nodded her head humbly, before she strode towards the front counter, steps
purposefully set wide apart in such a way she flashed the strong but still feminine muscles in her toned legs.
“M-m-may I help you?” The employee stammered, tapping scraggly black fingernails against the countertop, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously. Venus smiled, showing a line of straight, white teeth – perfection, as usual.
“Yes, could I get a caramel latte please?” She purred rhythmically. “And, hurr, would it be possible to add an extra bit of cream?” Cream – her guilty pleasure had
always been cream.
“Cream?” He echoed, arching a brow. She wanted to say,
No, not that sort, you filthy thing! But instead, she smiled. Instead, she said, “Yes, cream.” Flirting was harmless, but flirting could wait.
The employee nodded his head, muttered “cream, it is!”, and plugged the total into the till before holding out a hand for the money.
Venus dug in her purse for the allotted amount (if even she’d been here enough times and ordered the same thing long enough to have memorised the exact amount of bills and change she’d need), flashing him a bit of cleavage as she leaned one arm on the counter. “Five dollars, sixty-eight cents,” she smiled, finally, exchanging the money in her hand for the receipt in his, and then strutted towards an empty table in the corner of the room. Sometimes drawing the most attention meant looking like you wanted none of it.
Venus was flipping through a magazine someone had left behind when she heard a thump at the other end of the table, followed by the sound of liquid splatter and the word “s**t” hissed through clenched teeth. She glanced up, seeing the cashier sitting across from her and wiping furiously at the latte that had soaked through his white shirt, revealing the etching of a tattoo she couldn’t make out. “Funny,” she mused, and he looked up at her hotly, face red with embarrassment. “I don’t remember Charleigh’s ever doing tableside.”
“You were my last customer before my break,” he muttered, still scrubbing at his sleeve with his worker’s washcloth, before he let out a begrudged huff and let it go. “I thought I’d bring it to you before I went out for a smoke, and then... this.”
She eyed the firm grip of his fingers round the coffee cup, fixated on the black nail polish that added that extra bit of drama to the thick strip of black that had been dyed into his blonde hair, to the black eye liner smeared thick to accentuate thick, black lashes and deep blue eyes. He was a good looking cat, she’d give him that, but even then, he still had her coffee. “Well, spill or no spill, I paid for it,” she said, and when he gave her a look of genuine puzzlement, she nodded to the latte. “You gonna give it to me or am I going to have to go over there and get it myself?”
“Well, that depends...” His words came out with a throaty purr, his eyes sly as he glanced at her chest. “Not very threatening coming from someone who’s dressed in attire that hardly allows for much movement at all.”
“Oh really?” She folded her arms across her chest, an innocent gesture that came across as ‘hey, bud, my eyes are up here,’ but that served the purpose of making her look even more voluptuous than she was. “You might be surprised.” He cocked an eyebrow, so she continued. “Never doubt a femme, and certainly...” She paused, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “...never doubt a femme fatale.”
He scoffed light-heartedly, his lips turning up at the corners. “Sounds like a threat, but to give in or not to give in, that is the question!” He lifted the steaming cup of coffee to his face, breathed in the scent. “You have more to lose than I do.”
“Oh? Go on, tell me how, I’m interested now.” Her eyes gleamed, her words omitted with a playful growl.
“This is one tantalising cup of coffee. I’ve been working long enough at Charleigh’s to know what makes the perfect, steaming mouthful.” He winked, and she giggled.
A little bit forward, are we? Well two can play at that!“Sounds like you’ve been around the block, tough guy, and yet still, no promotion. I wonder what that says about your performance?”
“It says I’m not an a** kisser, unfortunately for him,” he sniggered coyly, tossing a glance to the back room in which the manager kept his office. “But not so much for you.”
“Haha, I’m almost sorry to say I have a mate,” she giggled.
“Hey, it’s not like I’m doing anything inappropriate,” he shrugged. “Just asking you fill out a comment card, help me out a little bit.” He winked, tracing a fingernail along the ridge of the coffee cup. “Of course, most people want to try before they buy.”
Venus stood, a sly smile on her lips, as she walked, toe in front of heel in front of toe in front of heel, over to where the tom was sitting. She rested a flat hand on the table, leaning down so that her face was almost pressed into his. Her eyes were narrowed, but he wasn’t focused on her eyes... “When I know what I want, I go after it,” she chimed, but as he slid his free hand across the table, fingers inching closer to her thigh, she shifted innocently and
intentionally unintentionally knocked the latte into his lap.
He hissed, startled, and pulled his elbow sharply back into the corner of the tabletop. “Christ,” he snarled, shaking his hand out and reaching for some napkins. She placed her hand on top of his, smiling apologetically.
“Let me get this.” She took a napkin and began scrubbing away at his knee, working furiously to dry the wet fabric that would surely prevent him from going back to work immediately after his break. As she began moving further and further up his thigh, she felt his muscles stiffen.
Wait for it, wait for it... She grinned. Glancing at her watch, she let out an exaggerated squeak. “Eep, I’m late!” Looking up at him apologetically, she got back up on her feet and placed the napkin, crumpled and wet, on the table. Slapping a hand on his shoulder, she said, “I gotta go, but I am so, so sorry that I couldn’t do more.”
He swallowed, nodded his head, grinned, but when he opened his mouth to speak, found he had lost his voice. Venus brightened. Taking a step matter-of-factly toward the door, she abruptly stopped, turning back as though she’d forgotten something – and indeed she had. “Oh, and you’re making your coffee a little thick, not to mention, you forgot the cream.” She watched as he crossed his legs quickly, embarrassment stinging his eyes, his cheeks. “You might want to watch that in the future, doll.” Patting his face deliberately, she turned round. This time, she didn’t look back. Her step had a prance to it as she left the coffee shop; yep, she still had it.
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