Senshi of Love: Sorry to keep you (while I’m) waiting. [Episode 123239]

Ranma stood with a blissful expression on her face as the hand crept over the curve of her posterior.

Cologne saw it coming and sighed with a cringe.  “Oh, no, no, no, no…”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Buster!” Ranma roared and knocked yet another customer across the room.

“That’s the third one this evening,” Sayuri observed, as Cologne rapped the catgirl over the head with an admonishment not to slam the customers so hard.

“Fourth,” Yuka corrected as Shampoo added to the tally.

“Bad boys!  No be too too touchy!  Shampoo’s big butt is for Ranma and Kasumi hands only.  Only being for looking, is okay, okay?”

“Okay!!” came the answering cheer of mixed nervousness and eagerness.

“— And yet, they are still the most popular girls around,” Sayuri added with a flourished gesture.  “The more they hit the boys, the more they keep hitting on them.  But what I don’t get is that, although the guys act so desperate, neither of us can get dates.  What’s with that?  It’s like we don’t exist or nothin’.…”

“So, what are you saying?” Yuka inquired.  “Think we should find a way to get turned into knocked-up martial-artist catgirls, or somethin’?”

“I’m just saying, boys is weird, is all,” Sayuri huffed.

“Like, what else is news?” Yuka pouted.  “Anyway, who would want to date any of these losers.  Eww!  Ah, who needs ’em.  Fugedaboud dem.”

“Uh…”  Sayuri hesitated, then protested, “look, Yuka, you’re a nice enough friend, and sure, I’m flattered, and maybe a little bit bi-currious, but I just don’t swing that way.”

“Huh?” demanded a perplexed Yuka  “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Er, heh, heh, nevah mind,” Sayuri muttered.  “Look, why do we keep coming here to watch the guys hit on other girls anyway?  I mean, watching them get thumped is entertaining and all, but there must be plenty of places we can maybe, you know, actually pick up dates.”

“Are you kidding?” Yuka demanded.  “Haven’t you tasted Kasumi’s cooking at all?”

“So,” Sayuri pondered, “you’re saying we should choose food over boys?”

“Don’t pretend you haven’t tasted it.  Go on, taste this egg roll,” Yuka insisted  “Taste it!”

“Hmmm…” Sayuri moaned as the eggroll slipped between her delicate red lips and she swallowed blissfully.  “Mmm.  Okay, I guess it is the right choice,” she conceded.

“Damn right it is!” avowed Yuka.  “Kasumi’s food is way better than sex!”

---

“Man, this time I swear Ranma let me fondle her butt for a good two minutes before she snapped out of it,” Hiroshi giggled.

“It was thirty seconds; tops,” Daisuke observed.  “So, okay, it’s a record, but she still blew you across the room for it.”

“It was totally worth it, Dude,” Hiroshi insisted.  “Her resistance is crumbling inch by inch.  Soon she will be all mine!  Bwahahahaha!”

“Okay, you have now officially lost it,” Daisuke diagnosed.  “This is still Ranma we’re talking about.”

“Nah, she’s totally a cat girl slut now,” Hiroshi insisted.  “You know she really likes it, like they all do.  We just gotta get her to admit it.”

“Huh, I really don’t think that you should say such things?” Daisuke hedged.

“I only say it because it’s true!” Hiroshi insisted.  “You can tell by the way she that walks, and the way that she talks.  She want’s it so bad it hurts!”

“No, see, that’s not why it hurts,” Daisuke warned.

“No man, we know she likes cock.  We just got to get her to admit that what really needs is a good, hard, er—  Uh, oh… She’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?”

Daisuke nodded.  “It’s been nice knowing you man.  Better luck in your next incarnation.”

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” Hiroshi predicted.  It did — lots.

---

“Grrr.  Stupid boys!” Ranma growled as she stormed off into the now-well-named Cat Café’s rear entrance.  “Thinking they can fondle my arse, or squeeze my tits, anytime they want just because I sometimes let ’em get away with it when I’m too horny to think straight.  And it’s not true!  I don’t like cock, it’s … it’s just Kasumi, so it’s okay to let her push her long, hard tentacles up my…  Damn you, Ryoga Hibiki, this is all your fault!”

‘Who?’ wondered the Pretty Penguin Princess Mercury as she put down the tea that Cologne had made for her.  ‘Oh, of course!  If I come across a sex fiend by that name, I’ll make sure to punish him extra hard for Ranma sweety!’

Out loud the hypersexy penguin girl commiserated, “I totally know what you’re going through.  At least you're lucky enough to have a couple of girlfriends to help take the edge off before you become some boy’s mewling pet.”  As had very nearly happened to her and her friends when Giro Umino discovered that his new prescription glasses had hypnotic swirls and started using them to ‘convince’ girls to let him take nudie pics.

“Yeah, real lucky,” Ranma growled as she rubbed her tummy.  “Uh, thanks for waiting till I finished my shift. Oh, so how do you deal with your … uh, that it.”

“Oh, ah, I've got some changeling girl friends back home too,” Mercury admitted as she grinned at the pretty kitty’s shy blush.  “We help each other ride the crest.”  Privately she added, ‘… and at least I can turn back to plain boring Ami when I need to.  Looks like poor, lipstick-lesbian Ranma, and her sexed-up girlfriends, are stuck in heat twenty four on seven!’

Aloud she added, “and you have a good job and place to stay with a nice old lady,” she indicated the nice old lady sitting opposite her and on whom she’d used the Mercury computer five times over to ensure wasn't a nice old youma, “instead of some dirty old man who’d put the move on you for sure.”

As when Makoto’s landlord had found her after the bukake-feind contaminated dairy product episode, and arranged to take that week’s rent in trade.   Still, she’d been happy enough to do it, and you couldn't blame the landlord; Pretty Cowgirl Jupiter’s milk did taste like sweet ambrosia after all and she really got off on being milked.  ‘Ah, maybe I'd better not let Ranma know about Makoto's big milky teats yet, or the horny cow just will steal my pretty kitties away!’

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a place to stay, Dearie?” Cologne interupted Mercury’s daydream.  “Somewhere nice and safe away from the perverts?”

“I’m not staying,” Mercury said hurriedly.  “I’m just doing sex res-, uh, investigating these sex fiends.  So, ah, Ranma, How many of those kind of events have there been in the ward lately?”

“Uh, let's see.   Shampoo and me fought that perverted cat spirit…”

“‘Shampoo and I’,” Mercury corrected automatically while she took notes, looking like a like a distracted scientist, or maybe a slutty secretary.

“You and Shampoo too?  When did that happen?”

“No, I mean…  Ah, forget about grammar, just tell your tail –I mean tale– in your own words, Ranma.”

Ranma did so and Mercury grimaced as though in pain while transcribing the horrid butchering of the Japanese language.   Thus she learned about Shampoo and Ranma’s catgirl conversion and narrow escape from being impregnated slaves of the tom-cat demon, about the catnip plant that had been used to ensnare Kasumi in it’s vines and their subsequent impregnation by her, and about the sexist pig boy who had taken advantage of the situation to try to turn the household into his personal piggy harem.  All of which was told to her from Ranma’s biased perspective; which left out a few important and embarrassing details.

She also didn’t learn some other things because Ranma didn’t know about them either.  Like how Devlin had just made a deal with Nabiki to sell his soul for some virgin nookie, or how the main source of demonic sex-energy she’d traced was from …