I stole our only car when I left. He must have raged for a long time, I imagine, when he found out I’d taken it. He probably couldn’t get to work that day, and I bet he wanted to strangle me.
He probably regrets never hitting me.
But I’m not in that place tonight. Tonight, I’m enjoying my new life.
Finally, my food arrives, and I dig into it even though I’mstuffed with free chips. It tastes like absolutely everything I’ve craved, spicy and cheesy and beefy—I’m in heaven.
I eat as much as I can, closing my eyes and listening to the mariachi music until it’s time to go. I take my leftovers in a container, then pay my bill using cash from the envelope.
When I walk back the three blocks to my car, I’m light as a feather, riding on hot air. This is my moment, my time to finally move up in the world.
But when I get back to my parking spot, my car is gone.
four
. . .
rupert
My quarters look like they belong to someone else when I return home.
Every surface is shining, highlighted by the bright light streaming in the open windows, where the curtains have been pulled aside and bound with ribbons. The fireplaces are clean, and the baskets beside them have been refilled with wood and tinder. When I step into the shower to wash the reek of Giancarlo’s incense off me, the drain works far better than before and doesn’t overflow after a few minutes.
Even the broken lightbulb over the mirror has been replaced.
In my bedroom, there are fresh silk linens on the bed, and the rugs are almost a different color without my fur all over them. Even the handle on my wardrobe has been tightened.
All by one person in one day.
My study, too, is spotless, but it doesn’t look like she’sopened any of my drawers. I believe Ms. Austin is a smart woman.
Who is she? How did she come to be driving that beat-up old heap of metal? Surely any cleaning company would be happy to have her. Why did she need Stella to recommend her?
After my meeting with Giancarlo, I came home wanting to put on a better face than I have, which is important when I can’t show her my face at all. As she is clearly struggling to make ends meet, I told Mr. Castle to issue her a cash advance.
After the marvelous dinner she cooks for me—which leaves me with even more questions than before—I hope my note brings her a small modicum of joy.
Though there remains the scent of cleaner, I also detect something else. That is one benefit of this form, I suppose: having a far superior nose. With it, I can pick out Ms. Austin’s scent all around. It’s everywhere she touched, everywhere she lingered, and it is entrancing.
To say it “smelled like lavender” would be an insult to this scent, something so distinctly feminine. It fills up my nostrils, and strangely, a shudder ripples through me all the way down to my groin.
Damn it, I can’t sit here and get a stiffy just from smelling a strange woman in my home. Though in particular, it is the smell of the two combined, hers and mine, that is most intoxicating?—
I stop the thought in its tracks. But now I’m hard under my trousers, and I roll my eyes at how pathetic I am, the mere scent of a woman driving me into a frenzy. It’s been far too long since the last time I pleased myself, and my body is angry with me for denying it.
It just feels… dirty, to do it in this form.
At least I have the decency to remove myself to my bedroom first, where I take off my custom-tailored trousers and unbutton where they clasp over my tail. Then I drop them to the floor, allowing the monster free.
My cock is large. I hate how large it is, how much it would strain any normal person to take it. It’s animal-like, too, only emerging from its furry sheath when excited. Then it protrudes—a slimy, wet thing—and has a ring partway down, as well as a head with a foreign, blunt shape. The edges of the crown have texture on them, like tiny pebbles hidden under the skin.
I wrap my clawed hand around it, careful with the sharp tips. I used to file them down, but they grew so fast it became pointless rather quickly. Now I just exercise caution.
When I stroke myself, my cock wets my palm, something I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. Cum is already leaking from the slit at the tip. I pin my ears back and sniff the air again, picking out Ms. Austin’s thoroughly intoxicating scent as it wafts around my bedroom. I feel almost drunk on it, and my hand speeds up as it floods into me.
I remember watching her get into her car, with her plump rear and thick thighs. It’s no wonder she smells this way when she’s so ripe to look upon.
I throttle my cock thoroughly as I stroke it, until I can’t bear any more and I finally let loose. My climax is so powerful that I spurt into the air, to my surprise, and it lands on the freshly vacuumed carpet.
