Chapter 12 — A Strange Kittypets

In front of me, the tension was a thread on the verge of snapping.

The male showed his teeth in a clumsy, ridiculous attempt at aggression. Beside him, the light brown tabby female kept her tail tucked between her legs, her gaze lost in overwhelming confusion. The rage in the air was palpable, a sour scent that made me bare my fangs by pure instinct.

I dug my claws into the smooth wood of my Twoleg’s roof. The grip was absurdly easy, flat, free from the trap of damp moss or the brittle bark of the forest. I took a step forward. My center of gravity dropped, my thigh muscles tensing in an instinctive hunting habit. They were weak. One strike of my paw would send them tumbling down the gutter. My pulse quickened with the promise of a ridiculously easy victory.

“Rusty?” the black-and-white cat blurted out suddenly, sniffing the air awkwardly.

I tilted my head, suppressing a snort of contempt. The female turned to him, bristling.

“What are you talking about?” she questioned, her voice cracking.

“Rusty’s scent is on her,” the male replied, narrowing his eyes. “She smells like the forest. She comes from the clans.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know any ‘Rusty,'” I snapped, keeping my voice steady, though my heart leaped as I recognized the trail of scent they mentioned.

The tabby cat stepped toward me. Her pupils were dilated with pure panic. There was no claw or fierce edge to her, only a naked distress that made my stomach turn. She pressed herself against the shingles, almost pleading.

“Do you know where my brother is?” she asked, her voice trembling like a dry leaf. “It’s been so long since I last saw him… Please.”

The plump male huffed, stomping his paw in frustration.

“I tried to bring him back. But it was no use. He insisted on staying in the clan. He said he goes by… Firepaw or something now.”

An electric spark shot down my spine.

“Ah. That one I do know,” I mentioned.

“How is Rusty?” the female pressed, taking another step.

“If you mean Firepaw… he is… doing fine, I suppose.”

The phrase caught in my throat. Suddenly, the image of the orange-furred apprentice fell over me like a claw strike. I remembered the warmth of his body sleeping beside me in the den, the heavy rhythm of his breathing synced with mine, the scent of moss and pine clinging to his back. I felt a pang in my chest and shook my head violently to scatter the thought. No. We were warriors. We were… nothing.

“How do you know him…?” I muttered, narrowing my eyes. “Well, I suppose you must know something. I don’t want to sound dismissive thinking all kittypets know each other, either.”

The male stepped forward, raising his chin in a vain attempt to look imposing.

“I’m Smudge,” he said, before jerking his head toward the female. “And she’s Princess. Rusty’s sister.”

Smudge inspected me from head to paw, sniffing the air with suppressed suspicion.

“What’s a clan cat doing around here?”

The air suddenly felt thick. I straightened my neck, forcing my body into an almost defiant posture to hide the trembling in my chest.

“I’ve been thinking… about becoming a kittypet,” I blurted out.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight. The urge to correct myself, the voice of my old clan screaming in my ears, lasted only a second. I shook my head.

“No. I’ve decided to be a kittypet.”

Smudge blinked, completely bewildered.

“One leaves to become a clan cat, and another comes over here…”

Princess kept staring at me with those huge eyes, flooded with concern. I forced myself to swallow to quell the stab of guilt piercing my throat.

“Your brother is fine,” I said softly.

For a moment, the idea of telling them that Firepaw might drop by the neighborhood some night crossed my mind. But I bit my tongue. My stomach tightened into a knot; the sheer prospect of crossing paths with him, of seeing that orange gaze accusing me or searching for me, terrified me. I didn’t want to get dragged back in.

“He’s fine,” I repeated to cut the subject short. “I used to be the medicine cat of ThunderClan.”

“Used to be?” Princess whispered.

“Like I told you… I’ve decided it’s better to belong here. I… want to, well, that’s what I think. I think a place like this would suit me better. There’s a certain… friendly Twoleg I’ve met. Very, very sweet, with light eyes…” My words began to tumble over each other, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I caught their stares. “Are all Twolegs like that, by the way?”

An awkward silence settled over the roof. Their faces were a picture of pure confusion and disbelief. I had turned sappy, vulnerable, ridiculous. Shame burned my paws. I swallowed hard and waved my front paws awkwardly, scraping the wood.

“I just… came to ask you to please stop fighting and get off my Twoleg’s roof,” I growled, trying to regain my authority. “Alright? Go somewhere else. Shoo, shoo.”

“This is where we always meet…” Smudge grumbled.

Princess said nothing; she seemed lost in a slow, painful processing of it all.

“Right, but you’ll end up bothering my Twoleg,” I insisted, taking a step forward and raising my hackles. “Now that I live here… this is my territory, too.”

The phrase echoed strangely in my own mind. My territory? My heart was pounding wildly. Since when did I defend a piece of Twoleg wood as if it were a clan border?

The two cats looked at me. Not with fear, but with a deep pity that made my blood boil.

“Seriously… you won’t survive here being like that,” Smudge said, shaking his head.

Princess nodded slowly, looking sad.

I blinked, clenching my fangs, caught between annoyance and disbelief.

“What do you mean? I bet I’m faster than you.”

“That doesn’t matter as much,” Smudge replied with exasperating calm. “If you want to stay locked inside all the time, that’s fine. But when you go out, you need to know the code of the streets if you really want to live like a kittypet. Neither of us is a stray, but there are dangerous cats who, if you talk to them like that, won’t let you make it back home.”

Smudge stepped closer to Princess and licked her chest affectionately. She let her head rest on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh. The tension between them had completely evaporated. Had I broken up their fight just by interrupting with my presence? I huffed.

“Whatever, I was leaving anyway,” Smudge said as he turned around. “If you confirm that Rusty is alright… that’s enough for us for now.”

Both of them scrambled down the fence with quick, silent movements. I approached the edge of the roof, peering over to watch their silhouettes disappear into the gloom of the garden.

The cold night air blew hard, fluffing up my fur. I let out a long sigh that turned into a small cloud of vapor in front of my muzzle.

Of course. The streets had their own rules too, their own wild, silent way of preying on the unwary.

What a mess.

I looked toward the lit window of the house, feeling the heat emanating from inside. My body instinctively craved the safety of that shelter, the easy food, the gentle caress of my Twoleg’s hands. Yet my pulse thudded in my ears like a war drum.

Code of the streets? Dangerous cats?

I snorted.

I was a medicine cat who had seen death up close, not some skittish furball. Driven by a stubborn urge and the need to prove I wasn’t afraid of their territory, I leapt off the roof and decided to track them stealthily.

However, as soon as my pads touched the hard ground of the sidewalk, the surroundings overwhelmed me. The air smelled of soot, burnt rubber, and rancid trash. I crept forward a few steps, body low to the ground and ears flattened back completely.

Suddenly, a deafening roar tore through the night: a metal monster went rushing past barely a tail-length away from me, releasing a blast of foul, hot wind that left me completely disoriented.

Terror gripped my muscles. I yowled in fright. In my blind panic to back away, I nearly tripped over the giant paws of a Twoleg walking by. The giant’s shadow loomed over me, and my animal instinct screamed a single command: run!

I bolted. I forgot elegance, I forgot pride, and I forgot the two house cats. I ran with every fiber of my being back to the house.

Reaching it, I leapt toward the open window, squeezed awkwardly inside, and collapsed full-length onto the wooden floor, panting like cornered prey.

I lay motionlessly for a moment, listening to the rapid rhythm of my breathing as my pulse slowly settled. I let out a long sigh.

Nope. It’s not safe for me outside.

My blood ran cold out there; I nearly pissed myself from pure fear, and my pride as a former clan cat roared in protest at my cowardice, but my body demanded shelter.

Crawling on trembling legs, I took refuge on the comfortable furniture in the main room, sinking into the soft, warm fabric. I stretched my legs, one by one, feeling the muscles strained from flight finally give way.

Either way… I’d better not venture outside.

Who needs a life on the streets, anyway?

If I decided to be a kittypet, it was to stay here, protected, warm, and fed. No dawn patrols, no bloody battles, no frozen mud freezing the hooks of your claws.

Though… I have to admit… it does get lonely sometimes when the Twoleg isn’t here. The house grows far too quiet, and in that silence, the memory of the forest and what I left behind threatens to creep in.

***

I fell asleep unintentionally, sinking into a heavy torpor. Gentle caresses over my ears and head woke me. I opened my eyes slowly.

It was my Twoleg. Not much time had passed, but the golden light and cool breeze coming through the window signaled that it was already late.

Seeing his extended hand, the overwhelming need for affection crushed my dignity. I ran straight to his palm, pressing my face against his fingers, and burst into a purr of overflowing warmth that vibrated through my entire chest.

He smelled good. He smelled of fresh soap and his own distinct scent; at least he didn’t smell like any other female.

I made sure to lick his hand several times with my rasping tongue, marking him with my scent.

Suddenly, he wrapped his hands around me and pressed me against his chest in a loose hug.

My, how affectionate he is now! Well… that’s normal. He should be happy to see me, I suppose.

“W-Woah…”

I uttered a small squeak of surprise when he picked me up in his arms. He carried me over to a tall wooden surface. He set me down there gently, put down a flat container, and pulled a shiny metal object out of a bag.

With a snap, he opened it. A thick aroma flooded the air as he deposited onto the plate a large piece of… a strange mass.

I approached, completely spellbound.

Meat. It didn’t smell like a mouse, nor a bird, nor a river fish. It was pink, moist, soft meat.

My stomach let out a wild roar. I forgot my posture; I forgot my medicine cat manners. I dug my teeth in and devoured it in greedy bites.

I heard the Twoleg laugh softly above me.

Did he hunt this for me? Where did he bring it from without claws or fangs? Well… no matter, it’s pretty delicious.

As I devoured it, his hand began to trace slow caresses along my back. It felt damn good.

I meowed at him with my mouth full and juice smeared across my whiskers. Realizing how ridiculous I looked, heat rushed to my ears. I raised a front paw to wipe across my face and clean myself quickly, but he extended his fingers and stroked that same paw, interrupting me.

I growled low at him, showing a millimeter of fang, and saw him laugh again.

So cocky… Let me clean myself first, dummy.

I stayed eating alone for a while as he stepped away to the kitchen to fetch something for himself to eat too.

When he returned and sat down, I tried to approach his strange food in another wider container, stretching my neck curiously. He didn’t allow it, gently nudging his plate away, but in return he cut a juicy piece of his own meat and offered it to me straight from his fingers.

He’s a good male… a perfect provider.

With an agile leap, I climbed onto his lap. I tucked my paws beneath my chest, curled into a warm ball of fur, and let him eat in peace while my inner motor revved up again, purring loudly.

This… I truly love this.

The heat of the shelter, the meat served effortlessly, the protective touch of his hands. My hunter instincts, the ferocity of prey and predator, loyalty to the clan… all of that dissolved into nothing beneath this pleasurable, submissive devotion.

My Twoleg’s hands continued sliding through my fur, a unhurried caress that made my muscles melt into a lazy tremor. He lifted me in his arms with astonishing ease and walked toward the bedroom. He set me down gently on the soft nest where we usually slept, that plush bed that smelled of him.

He removed the upper part of his covering and then the rest. I swallowed hard, feeling a sudden heat at the tips of my ears as my purr caught in my throat. He always looked imposing, but like this, bare, with the firm muscle mass of his shoulders exposed, he looked far more handsome.

However, he tossed his worn clothes onto the bed, and one of the garments landed right over my head. I wrinkled my nose immediately, choking on the concentrated mix of his sweat and the stink of the street. With a swift swipe of my paw, I knocked the fabric to the floor. I huffed… but, well, it made sense. Males sweated after exertion.

He walked into the other room. I leaped up to follow him, but he shut the door right in my face. A metallic click echoed. I stood there, blinking in annoyance.

From the other side, the dull thump of rushing water began to sound, and warm steam started filtering under the wood.

I returned to the bed, but restlessness ate away at me. I tossed on the sheets, pacing in circles without managing to get comfortable. Pent-up energy burned in my paws.

I decided to step out into the hallway for a moment and peered through the large window overlooking the yard.

There it was. The neighbor’s dog, a furry beast with heavy jaws, sniffing the grass. I pressed my paws against the glass and meowed at it brazenly, a sharp, provoking sound. The animal turned abruptly and lunged toward me, letting out a guttural growl that vibrated through the glass. I leaped backward, bristling from head to tail, and bolted back deeper into the house.

My heart pounded wildly. Now that I think about it… if I’m staying here to live… will I have to live with that beast nearby? That thing and its kind have torn several of my Clanmates to shreds in the forest. One wrong claw-strike and it would snap my neck.

No… as long as I’m inside here, I’m safe.

Though I shouldn’t even think about that anymore. All I want is the Twoleg’s attention. I’m tense all day anyway, and I need him! My claws unsheathed and retracted from my pads, scratching the rug out of pure nervousness.

The bathroom door finally opened. The Twoleg emerged wrapped in a dry cloth, rubbing his wet hair. Seeing him instantly calmed me.

He finally threw himself onto the nest, letting out a heavy sigh, and reached out to stroke my head. I meowed softly at him. I wanted to feel his hands running over my body again, seeking that warmth to banish my anxiety, but he merely picked up that usual gray metallic block and stared intently at it.

I growled, annoyed by the piece of metal. I tried to catch his attention by meowing repeatedly, tumbling beside him until I lay flat on my back. I exposed my soft white belly to him, an act of absolute vulnerability I never would have shown before a warrior.

Come on, get closer. I won’t bite you… not if you pet me right.

But the boy did nothing. He didn’t even look at me.

I flattened my ears. Was he tired…? His eyes were a bit dull, reflecting the blue light of the gray block.

Suddenly, he set the device aside, adjusted himself on the pillow, and looked straight into my eyes. He spoke in that deep, slow voice he always used, repeating that same sweet word every time he turned his attention toward me.

I approached his face with slow steps. He leaned down and rubbed his nose gently against mine.

“What’s keeping you so busy?” I wanted to ask him with a muffled meow, though I knew it was impossible for him to understand me. I felt the heat of his skin through the contact of our noses.

He smelled good… so clean. He’s had a hot bath, I think. Don’t they wash themselves with their tongues like us? I keep finding more differences between him and me, and yet…

I felt one of his hands descend slowly down my back until reaching my tail. Heat flushed my face instantly, but I flicked my tail away with a coquettish movement. I licked the tip of his nose with my rasping tongue and felt his hand begin to stroke me.

A few light, rhythmic, firm pats shook my spine. They’re never a bad thing…

I purred with my mouth half-open, my gaze hopelessly dazed. This male knew exactly how to play.

I crept over his chest, resting directly against his neck, feeling the pulse of his jugular beating under my chin, and let him pet me as he pleased.

My predator mind should have been on high alert before the exposed jugular of a giant, but my body responded with absolute surrender. This is nice… I can’t deny… that I’m loving his touch after all.

I sighed softly as he kept caressing me. His large, warm fingers slid over my back with a deliberate slowness, as if measuring every inch of my fur. The heat of his palm seeped through to my skin, gradually dissolving the tension that still lingered from the night.

I purred louder, the sound vibrating in my chest and against his bare torso.

I felt small, protected… and more and more… aroused.

His hand moved lower. It passed over the curve of my rear and, without rushing, came to a stop right where my tail joined my body. A thick, warm finger brushed against my sphincter. I tensed instantly. My ears flattened for a second. It was an intimate touch, far too intimate, and my body reacted before my mind could.

A shiver ran down my spine. I was on the verge of pulling away… but I didn’t.

I swallowed hard and let his finger stay there, pressing softly, tracing slow circles over that sensitive spot. Shame burned my ears, but the pleasure was real. A thread of heat spread inward.

Another of his fingers slid further down and found my vulva. It was already a bit damp, treacherous. The direct contact wrenched a sharp gasp from me. My claws dug into the sheet for a moment, though not enough to tear it. He noticed my reaction; I felt it in the way his breathing grew heavier.

Beneath my hind paws, I felt his dick harden, growing and tensing until it was completely rigid. The scent of his arousal hit me strong, masculine, salty. I blushed to the roots of my fur.

I thought about treating him right. I wanted to. I needed to. Or rather… I desired it. More and more, I keep convincing myself that I’m just horny… but I don’t want to deny my deepest desires.

I turned around carefully, sliding over his torso until I was straddling him in reverse. I presented my rear toward his face, raising my hips slightly so my vulva was exposed, inches from his mouth. At the same time, I drew closer to his dick.

It was big, thicker than I remembered from the times I’d sniffed it from afar. The tip was already glistening a little.

I stuck out my tongue and licked it carefully. He twitched. An involuntary movement that made me feel powerful for an instant.

I caught the shaft between my front paws, using only my pads so as not to hurt him. I kept my claws retracted on purpose. I began to lick. Long strokes from the base to the tip, tasting the salt and heat.

Every time I reached the head, I swirled my tongue in a small circle.

He groaned.

A low, husky sound that vibrated in my ears, but sounded so sweet to me… His hands closed over my rear, squeezing the firm muscles. A finger slid between my lips and, without much ceremony, began to slip inside my vulva.

“I-Is he in heat this fast…?” I thought, equal parts confused and turned on. “Or well… I can’t deny it to you…”

The finger went deeper. My inner walls clamped around it by reflex, squeezing it with an instinctive force that dragged a smothered gasp from me against his dick.

My hot breath escaped over the sensitive skin of the tip, and I felt the shaft tremble under my tongue. I kept licking, now with more enthusiasm, while he slowly penetrated me with that single, thick, warm finger.

In. Out. And in again. Every thrust was deliberate, patient. I felt his knuckle brush my swollen lips as it pulled back, and then the full finger sliding back inside, opening me inch by inch. The inside was slick; the juice of my own arousal lubricated the way, making me ache for him to put it in deeper.

I could hear the faint, wet sound every time he went all the way in. Knowing those sounds could come from my body… are things I never would have learned in the Clan…

Without realizing it, and certainly driven by my own desires, my hips began moving on their own, pushing back to take in more. The earlier shame had turned into something darker, more urgent. Every time his finger sank to the base, a flash of pleasure shot up my spine. Every time it pulled out, leaving me momentarily empty, a tiny whimper of protest escaped me.

“M-Mew~!”

Then he added the second finger.

“M-Mroaaw!”

The initial friction caught me off guard. I felt the second finger press against my already occupied entrance, pushing in beside the first. The stretch was immediate, a firm, hot pressure that opened me wider than I was prepared for. A smothered meow caught in my throat.

I bit my lower lip hard, my fangs brushing against sensitive skin, and a chill of alarm ran through my whole body. For a second, instinct screamed that it was too much. I pulled back a little, my hips recoiling by reflex… but that movement only made my walls open wider around both fingers, making it easier for them to sink even deeper.

Heat flooded through me all at once. A thick, liquid heat that started from the point where his fingers filled me and spread through my lower belly, rising up to my chest. My inner walls throbbed around them, squeezing and releasing in waves.

He moved them slowly, spreading them slightly inside me, stretching me even further. The rub of the two fingers together was thicker, more intense; I felt every knuckle, every minimal movement. My juices slicked his knuckles and trailed down my inner thighs, warm and viscous.

I wondered if I was being too filthy… but he didn’t seem to mind. That only coaxed a more honest groan out of me…

“Meow…”

I whimpered.

The sound escaped me against his dick, sharp, almost a whine.

I kept licking. Just the tip. I sucked slowly, running my tongue over the opening again and again. He groaned louder. His fingers curled inside me.

He found it.

That spot.

The exact pressure, firm, deep. My legs tensed. My purring broke into a higher-pitched meow. My hips trembled on their own. The scent of my own arousal grew thicker, sweeter… and I felt ashamed of how wet I was.

I kept moving my head. Up and down, licking, sucking, while he fucked me with his fingers. In. Out. Again. Always brushing against that place that made me see white.

My vulva was dripping. I could feel my juices sliding over his knuckles, running down my thighs. My tail twitched out of control. Every time his fingers reached all the way in, my sphincter contracted on its own, remembering how he had touched me before. How dirty… how good it felt.

I focused on his dick. I held it between my pads and my tongue worked back and forth, wet and raspy. Sometimes I moved down to his testicles and licked them slowly, feeling them tighten. His breathing grew increasingly ragged. His hips pushed upward, seeking more of my mouth.

I gave it to him.

I opened my jaws wider and took the whole head in, sucking carefully. The flavor intensified. A warm drop slid onto my tongue, and I swallowed it without thinking. It tasted like him…

His fingers sped up.

My eyes snapped open as I felt him suddenly force in a third finger.

The stretch tore a groan from me. Almost too much. Almost. But the pleasure was stronger. My walls clamped down around them in waves, squeezing them, sucking them in. I felt the hot knot growing in my belly, bigger and bigger.

I panted against his shaft. Broken meows between every lick. He groaned my name, gripping my rear tightly, holding me still while he opened me up with his fingers.

I couldn’t think about anything else. Only about how deep they were reaching. How wet I was. How badly I didn’t want him to stop.

He was using me like a toy… How d-dare he… subject me to such freedom…?

I kept licking.

Faster. More desperate.

My tongue swept up and down, wrapping around the tip, sliding down the sensitive side. It was hard as a rock. I could feel the pulse beneath the skin, warm and alive. My hips moved on their own, pushing backward to take his fingers deeper. The wet sound of his hand filled the room along with my broken meows and his groans.

Heat surged through my whole body. My ears burned. The fur on my neck stood on end.

I wanted more.

More of that taste. More of that hardness filling my muzzle.

I opened my jaws wider.

The entire head slid past my lips. I sucked. My raspy tongue swirled around it, squeezing, savoring. It was thick. Too thick. Every time I went a little deeper, I choked, drool escaping from the corners of my mouth, running down my chin and dripping onto his skin. I didn’t stop. I wanted him to feel the same filthy heat that was burning through my belly.

Then I noticed his fingers pulling out.

Slow. Slick. Leaving me empty.

I took advantage.

I sucked harder. Deeper. My tongue flattened against the underside while I sucked hard, desperate. My head moved clumsily, quickly up and down, thick drool dripping uncontrollably. The flavor grew more intense, saltier… and suddenly the memory hit me: the taste of his seed, that thick flavor I already knew and treasured in some dark corner of my mind. I wanted to feel it again. I wanted him to fill me up once more with that delicious nectar.

Desiring it so badly made my stomach burn.

A dense, liquid heat surged from my lower belly and spread down toward my hind legs. Something was dissolving down there. Something hot and treacherous that threatened to spill over.

Tears welled in my eyes against my will. My own tears blurred my vision, though I could only see his groin at this point anyway.

Even while trying to take it easy, my entire body betrayed me.

My eyes grew wet from the effort, from how deep I had him inside me, from how good it felt to choke on him just a little.

Desperate.

To the point where my jaw trembled and my breath caught in my throat. My tongue wouldn’t stop. The suction grew stronger, dirtier, more needy.

I needed him.

He groaned louder.

His hands closed around my glutes, squeezing tightly. His fingers dug into my fur and flesh, and suddenly he pulled at my labia, stretching them open. The cool air brushed against my swollen, sensitive flesh. A filthy shiver ran through my entire frame.

Then I felt it.

Something was overflowing between my hind legs. Hot. Inevitable.

No… not now…

My tongue sped up on its own. Faster. Clumsier. Licking and sucking as if I could anchor myself to him with my mouth.

He squeezed my glutes tighter and pushed me forward.

I swallowed the entire dick.

All the way to the back.

The tip bumped against the back of my throat. A dull, deep impact that dragged a smothered sound from me. My jaw stretched to its absolute limit. I felt the dick throb inside me, how it began to swell, to widen, stretching my mouth to the brink. The pulse beat against my tongue. Hot. Hard. Growing.

And then he shot.

His seed came in direct squirts straight down my throat. Hot. Thick. Coating the entire inside of my mouth in a single surge. I felt every pulse. Every squirt hitting my throat. The salty taste flooded me instantly. It spilled past the corners of my mouth. It coated my tongue, the roof of my mouth, my whiskers.

My hind legs trembled uncontrollably.

Climax tore through me while I swallowed.

A violent tremor shot up from the base of my tail. My inner walls contracted on empty space, grasping for something that was no longer there. A choked scream escaped me around his dick, silenced with no room to get out. My claws unsheathed and I pulled them back, trembling. Drool and seed ran down my muzzle while pleasure hit me in waves.

I could feel it.

I could hear it.

Every drip. Every thick squirt that kept coming inside my mouth. Every throb of his dick as he filled me.

I kept sucking out of reflex, trembling, my belly still contracting, my face completely dirtied by him.

Though slowly, I felt my body being pulled back from that spot.

Inch by inch. My mouth remained open, suddenly empty, and his seed was still sliding down my tongue and whiskers.

“Meow…? W-What’s wrong…?” I meowed. A low, broken sound, with semen dripping from my muzzle in thick strands. As I tried to regain a bit of sanity, I swallowed everything left inside. The salty taste went down my throat, and I treasured it once more.

I felt my body being lifted higher up his torso.

The Twoleg had raised me.

Making me sit right over his face.

His hot breath against my still open and sensitive vulva forced me to drop down completely. My lips pressed tight from the shock.

W-What was I supposed to do…?

The posture was new. Strange. My hind paws couldn’t find anywhere to rest. One slipped. The other stayed twisted. I lost my balance and had to dig my claws into the pillow beside him to keep from falling completely. My ears flattened back. A confused meow escaped me. What… what was he doing?

Then he began to drink.

As if my fluids were nectar from a honeycomb.

His broad, warm tongue swept over my swollen lips, gathering every drop, every remnant of juice. He went deeper. Penetrating me with it.

Ah…

The confusion melted away all at once.

His tongue moved inside. Licking. Sucking. Exploring unhurriedly. One of his hands closed at the base of my tail while the other squeezed my thigh, holding me up. I didn’t need to balance myself anymore. He had me.

I rubbed against him.

Without shame. Without control.

My hips moved on their own against his mouth. I sought more of that tongue. More depth. More of that wet heat opening me up inside. My belly trembled. Every time he went deeper, a sweet chill shot up my spine.

The scent of my own heat mixed with his, intoxicating me.

The wet sound of his tongue working over my sensitive flesh filled my ears. I sank down. I rubbed myself. I wanted to stay there forever while he drank me whole.

Or almost.

Until I heard it.

A groan. Outside. On the roof.

My ears pricked up instantly. My body tensed over his face. A low growl escaped my chest, involuntary, territorial.

He didn’t stop. He kept licking, deeper, more insistent. As if the noise outside didn’t exist. As if the only thing that mattered was the flavor between my legs.

I thought it would be momentary.

A brush of wind. A stray meow. Nothing more.

But they continued. And worst of all… the voices were familiar.

Far too recent.

The light brown tabby cat. Princess.

Her broken, high-pitched voice while someone fucked her. The sound of bodies slamming against the shingles. A low growl I recognized instantly.

“Maooooow!!”

I thought if I groaned louder I could drown them out, but it was no use.

So that the only sound in existence would be my pleasure and my Twoleg’s tongue inside me, I rubbed myself against him harder, desperate, seeking to let the heat erase everything else.

But I could hear her.

Clear. Unmistakable. Above. On the roof of my new home.

Damn them…

W-Why do they dare interrupt me at a time like this…?

The thought stabbed through the pleasure, sharp, furious.

I’d make sure… they learned to respect my territory…

They’d pay for this…!

M-Mroaaaw!