7
The ass Harley pointed at me was magical—peachy soft skin that looked like I could take a bite right out of it. When I lightly put my palm on his back and pushed him forward to watch his lats and deltoids flex, his asshole was a mesmerizing pink between his flawless cheeks. He looked ready to be eaten, and more importantly, eaten out, like he might have taken his time between feeding his cat and collecting his toys to prep himself for me.
“You think of everything, kitty. You’re so smart.” He let out one of those pleased, purring chirrups that I was starting to love. I looked into his box of gear and there was lube in there, along with his tail and other play toys. I had some dick grease stuffed between the couch cushions, too, because I was an eternal optimist.
“Harley cat, you deserve some love, don’t you think?” He jolted at my words, and I wasn’t sure what specific one had caused that reaction, but I bent forward and kissed his right asscheek. He stilled. I did the same to the left one. His back arched farther.
“Oh, does kitty like being scratched here?” I murmured and rubbed my cheek against his soft skin. He shivered and let out a sound that wasn’t quite a hiss but let me know that maybe I was treading the edge of something he didn’t like. Taking my life in my own hands, I spread his cheeks apart and ran my tongue firmly over his delicious hole. Like I’d suspected, he tasted clean—no sweat or musk—so I delved my tongue right in. He pawed at the floor with his fingers and moaned, but halfway through the satisfied sound, it transformed into a low, pleased purr.
“Oh, let’s fix this first.” I gave him one last swipe of my tongue, and he gasped when I sat back. Hell, that was a sexy sound too. I was up and out of my seat fast. I found what I was hoping for in the box: sweet little black-and-white paw gloves that matched his tail. They really were adorable, in a way that the puppy toys weren’t. Puppy gear tended to be more functional. I went to my knees in front of him, and he frowned but held out his hands for me so I could slip the gloves onto him one at a time. He batted at my knees and smiled. I took the ears out of the box next and situated them onto his head, and then grabbed the feet coverings. They were more boots than anything, but they were furry and white with black tips. I coaxed him forward so I could slip them onto his feet.
“Now, just this tail, but you’re already so pretty, Harley.” He flushed and stared at the floor, his jaw twitching, and I wanted to do something to make him believe me, give him something real to think about, instead of whatever was going on in his head.
I plucked the tail and the lube out of the box, and his breath caught as he stared steadily at them. Harley surprised me when he moved and rubbed his side against my shoulder and arm, nearly knocking me over. Laughing, I caught him on his turnaround—he was going in for another body rub—and held his hips still. He let out a “murr,” almost like he was going to hiss but hadn’t quite gotten that agitated yet.
“You want your tail, kitty, so you’ll behave.” He stiffened and stilled, glaring over his shoulder at me, but I only stared right back. How did you make a kitten behave? He seemed a little like a bratty sub, but I didn’t think his moods were entirely purposeful, the way that sort of act was meant to be. He didn’t get off on being a shit and then getting corrected, or at least I didn’t think that was what this was. He just didn’t seem to like being stopped and manhandled. I let go and he skittered away from me a few feet and studied me with condemnation in his eyes.
“Kitty, kitty, kitty, come here for your treat,” I whispered.
He put his nose to the floor, as if he could sniff something there, and ignored me. Carefully, I moved closer. He moved away again. We repeated that until I had him trapped between me and the couch, and then he gave me a baleful look but turned and put his paws on the cushions, arching his ass toward me. I had to laugh. If he thought that putting his ass closer to the floor would keep me from eating it, he didn’t know me too well.
Moving behind him, I leaned closer and caressed the back of his neck, playing my fingers lightly there. He bowed his head to get more of the touch, and I slid my fingers the whole way down his spine until he was sticking his ass out to get more of the caress. Grinning, I dropped fast to the floor on my elbows behind him and nuzzled my face between his cheeks again.
He hissed but also pressed back against me, and I sucked and slurped and licked until the pouch on the front of his jock was jutted forward and hanging heavy with his plump dick. I lapped at his hole until he was excited and slightly loose, and then popped the top on the lube. I ate him like it was my job while I slicked my middle and pointer fingers well. There was no time like the present to see how he’d react to a little ass play, so I eased back and carefully pressed the tips of my fingers to his hole, waiting. He let out a curious meow and rocked back onto me.
My dick gave a solid, hopeful throb when my fingers disappeared into the exquisite heat and pressure of his body. I let him fuck himself on me a couple more times before I put a hand on his back and held him still. He started up with another irritated meow that stopped midway as I found the little pleasure nub inside his ass, swollen and ready for some attention. I pressed on it and he gasped, glancing over his shoulder.
“T-tail?” His lips quivered.
“Soon, pretty kitty. Good kitties let their Master get them ready. You want to be a sweet kitty, don’t you?”
His mouth curved down in the cutest frown I’d seen, almost like he really didn’t want to be a good kitty—maybe there really was no such thing, since cats were chaos incarnate—but he gave into the allure of having his prostate played with and rocked his hips. That’s what I really wanted anyway. I didn’t move and paid careful attention to the amount of pressure he sought out, the way he shifted his hips, and how fast he bucked when his mouth finally went slack as he gulped in large breaths. He was wriggling his adorable little feet against the floor and his cheeks were rosy when I eased my fingers out of him.
The growl that followed had me petting a soothing hand along the back of his thigh. “Let me get you ready.”
He glanced over his shoulder, and I got a look that could go either way—man or cat—and consisted mainly of don’t you dare treat me like I’m stupid . I didn’t waste any time and immediately slathered lube on the silicone plug at the end of the tail. The gel looked strangely sexy smeared on the large bulb, and I licked my lips, couldn’t wait to see this disappear into him.
“You’re so goddamned wonderful, kitty. I really want to be in here,” I whispered and ran my thumb in a circle through the slick around his hole. He arched into my touch, and I pressed the plug against his hole until it opened nicely for me and his body accepted the toy. He gasped and dropped his forehead to the couch cushions. I couldn’t help myself. I teased the plug in and out of him a few times, stopping to appreciate the view of his hole spread around the thick silicone bulb. My dick was so hard. I could imagine the heat, the tight grip, and now the way he would look stretched around me. He would feel so good.
“Fuck, Harley, you’re amazing.”
He whined and trembled all over.
Finally, I pressed the plug in until the tail was seated, and a full-body shiver racked him as he pawed at the couch. I held the tail and used it to fuck him once more, just because I loved to see him spread open, but this time he did growl at the teasing. I pressed the plug in solidly, deep as it could go. Then I got kind of mean. I tipped the plug and pressed down until he was moaning from the tease against his prostate. I leaned forward and kissed his shoulder, the warm skin sweet and smooth under my lips. He shuddered, and I slid on my knees back away from him. The last piece of his gear, the new collar, waited there on the table beside the couch.
“This is… I liked the idea of giving you something pretty, Harley kitty. While we play together, I expect you to wear it. Do you understand?” My voice went harsh, and I wasn’t normally that way, but this was one of the few things that I needed for myself. I needed to own him while we were doing this. That’s what really made me excited with a pet—the illusion that they were mine in every way. It was the kick I got out of our arrangement. The kink I delved into. I got to take care of my pet, be totally responsible for all of their basic needs, all of their animal wants—all of their feral desires.
It was such a raw connection and I loved it.
He glanced over his shoulder and blinked at me but didn’t say anything. He moved his front paws from the couch to the floor and turned toward me. I half expected him to scamper off, but he crouched there, his dick barely contained by his jock, his paws firmly on the floor, and studied me for a moment before he leaned in and ran his cheek over mine.
Chasing after him, I kissed his nose and he wrinkled it, but he stayed still while I grabbed the collar and secured it around his neck.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” I whispered. He sniffed and moved away from me to explore. The first toy he came to was a ball with a bell in it on the floor. He batted at the ball and it flew across the room to bounce off the box I’d found. He blinked toward the far corner of the room, and I held in a chuckle. I was pretty proud of myself. On my way back, I’d driven by a dishwasher box on the side of the road, set out for the recycling. I’d stopped without a second thought to grab the roadside treasure, even waved at the smiling house owner, who I am sure probably never dreamed I was picking it up for my Harley cat. The box sat in the corner of the room on its side, the flaps still intact.
“Go on, pretty kitty. See what that is.”
He crouched low to the ground, his ass in the air, and crept toward it. All I could do was appreciate the taut, long lines of his muscles. He was poetry in motion as he eased across the room and sniffed at the cardboard. I batted another ball at him, and he startled and meowed at me, but then chased after it. In spite of what he said about not being a sport nut, he was perfect at intercepting the ball and smacking it back, and for a little while we just played and had fun. I sat down and appreciated his beautiful body and allowed myself to get lost in the rhythm of our game, until a wild roll from me had the ball spinning right under the flap and into the large box. Harley jolted and scrambled toward his disappeared toy, and I laughed for a while as he went in there. I could hear the tinkling of the ball bouncing around in the box, and then the ball came whizzing out the end again.
