Chapter Thirty-Three
Kris
He strained his ears, hoping for a sound to give a clue as to what was happening around him. Something, anything at all, he needed a wisp to grab onto in the darkness he found himself in. Even time had ceased to hold meaning. There was the darkness, sound, and the tug on his harness when it came. Hat and the pressure of whatever surface they permitted him on at any given moment. First, it had been the carpeted floor of the living room, then a cold, hard surface as they led him to meet his captor’s mother before she watched her television show. The woman supposedly present had said nothing, hadn’t even touched his head or anything. In fact, she’d never said a single word. Victor, however, had kept up a one-sided conversation during the commercial breaks. It had been quite eerie, and Kris had found himself imagining a scene from an old Hitchcock movie, one where a man talked to his dead mother’s body as she faced out the window in her rocking chair. It had left him trembling.
Then he’d been led out and made to lie down on what felt like a large dog bed. It wasn’t big enough for him unless he curled up into a ball. Even worse, he’d felt the sides of a wire dog cage as he was made to crawl through the door to get to his bed. Next, it had clanged shut and he heard them latch it closed. Then there was no sound at all other than footsteps leaving the room. He’d been left alone. No one had come back.
I gotta pee.
He rolled onto his back to try to take the pressure off of his bladder. Moments later, he heard the door open and the read of footsteps. Victor spoke. “Come on out, We could see your stiffy on the monitor.”
Kris flushed. He couldn’t help it. It was normal to get a little hard when you had to pee. He wasn’t actually erect, not really.
Victor chuckled. “My kitten is easily embarrassed. Look, you’ve gone all limp. Ah well, come on out anyway. It’s time to use the box and eat.” He heard the cage door unlatch and swing open.
Kris crawled out. Had he really said use the box? Hands grabbed him. “Harness first,” he was reprimanded. He stood still to allow it to be fastened. It was safer that way, as long as the one holding the leash didn’t decide to lead him into danger. He was led across the floor. Coming to a stop a few feet away, Victor then said, “Move forward and climb in. It’s a nice big box. Use your paws to dig a hole first..”
Kris couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He reached an arm out, his mitt brushing against a short, hard surface. It seemed as if it might be a child’s pool or plastic sandbox. A litter tray, he realised with growing horror.
“No! Wait!” He felt the brush of Victor’s body as he knelt down beside him. A hand tugged at a front’ paw’. “Lift up. I don’t want you to get any litter stuck in the fur.” Kris obediently lifted his hand and allowed Victor to unlock and then remove the mitt. Once his hand was free, he gave himself a brief flight of fancy,. In his mind’s eye, he reared back and socked Victor in the face, knocking him down and making good an escape. For a split second, he even considered actually doing it.
Knowing that was futile, that Victor was larger and stronger and he couldn’t see to look for a way out, he put his now un-mittened hand down on the floor.
“Wise choice,” Victor said. “Now lift the other one.”
Kris swallowed at the realisation that Victor knew what had been passing through his mind.
Not good. Not good, no not at all.
He shivered, fear getting the best of him, and lifted his other hand. Victor repeated the procedure.
“Climb in, but put your feet in the air. Dig your hole and then do your business.”
How the hell am I supposed to see where the hole is to pee?
“I said get in and dig a hole!” Victor roared.
Kris scrambled to obey. The litter was fine, almost like sand, and smelled strangely like baby powder. He dug a large hole, hoping it was big enough to not miss. Then he knelt up and reached for his dick. His hand was smacked away.
“Not like that! Bad kitty!”
Right. Like a cat.
He dropped back down onto his hands and shuffled until he felt the tip of his dick touch the plastic of the box. Then he hung his head down and willed himself to pee. If it weren’t for what was in his mouth, he would have whispered his thanks to the universe for his body co-operating as a stream of urine began to stream out. Then he moved carefully backwards and started to scratch at the litter to fill in the hole before turning around and clambering back out of the box.
“You don’t need to poop?”
Not until I’m about ready to shit myself, no.
Kris rubbed his head cat like against Victor’s trouser leg.
“Okay, good puss. Let’s get you fed.”
First though, was the mitts. Once on, Victor tugged him along across the room, down a hall and into the kitchen.
“I know that you didn’t ask to be here. But think of it this way, the rescue people, they go and take pets away from people who don’t deserve them. They rehome them with someone better.”
Kris felt the lead go slack and the faint tugging that told him it had been unclipped from the harness. He sat his bottom down, resting it against the back of his legs as he remained on his knees, hands still on the floor. He heard the sound of a heavy ceramic dish clinking against the granite countertops he glimpsed as he was dragged from his cell to first meet Victor.
“So, consider yourself in a better place. I will not abuse you. You were content to be his pet, so here, you get to continue. Mum missed Socks terribly and you really will be a wonderful companion for her. She doesn’t get around much so you will be remaining mostly by her side.” The sound of cereal hitting the inside of a bowl sounded. It was louder than he thought flakes or Cheerios would be.
Maybe some kind of muesli with a lot of nuts?
Victor continued as the sound of the cereal pouring stopped and the rustling of the bag indicated he was closing it up. “So, we will need to watch your weight. Low carbs, eh? So, grain free. But only the best.”
The sound of a pull ring and the lid of a tin being peeled open, followed by the strong smell of salmon, finished painting the picture for Kris. Not cereal. It was cat food. He gagged.
“Oh, of course. I need to take this off of you. You can’t eat with this in your mouth, can you, Muffin?”
Ishmael, please, hurry. I don’t know if I can do this much longer.
