Teaser: In Tow and In Toes (Paws) (Patreon)

You back away slowly from the macro-sized cat, trying not to draw attention to yourself as you seek cover. You can barely even see his head over the curves of body. He’s looking at his phone, humming a quiet tune and not paying attention to where he’s going. He doesn’t have to look - It’s his home, he could navigate with his eyes closed. They might as well be, to not see you down there.

At first, you’re thankful that he’s distracted, tapping at his phone as he walks, but that quickly turns to horror when the shadow of his paw looms over you.

THMP

His paw lands millimetres in front of you. It’s a dull, almost silent step, even from so close.  So close that you can measure yourself up against his toes, to see them almost as tall as you. So close that the strands of fur on his toes brush against you, and beyond that, you can feel the heat radiating off his body. So close you can smell the subtle hints of tea from his fur, mingling with the humid, natural sweat of his paws. So close, you can see the subtle shift of pressure squashing his toe beans as he shifts his weight, that had come so close to smothering you beneath them.

Phirae yawns and stretches, rolling his toes to relax. They flex, and his claws slide out, digging shallow grooves into the wooden flooring. The marks are imperceptible at his size, but you can see the slight scratches that add another hatch to the subtle marks in the wood, with blades as big as your torso. They scratch on either side of you, before the cat’s claws slip back in with a quiet snkt. Like drawing a pen to fence you in.

You stumble backwards, but too slowly. Phirae lifts his paw to take another step, but he barely raises up and lazily drags it across the floor, which knocks you down when his toes collide into you. It’s like a group of fluffy monsters picking you up and tackling you to the ground when they fall.

You sputter, winded from the first hit, which isn’t helped by the follow-through. His weight smushes you underneath him, crashing down and pinning you beneath his paw. You have a slight space between his middle two toes as they frame your head on both sides, brushing your head between as they settle, and pinch tight. The rest of you squashes beneath him, sunk into the squishy, leathery skin of his paw pad and the trim fur of his sole.

Even if you wanted to squirm, there’s no space to move with his weight pressing you into the cold, hard floorboards below. The cat’s toes are so warm and soft in comparison. They’re also a little damp, with the cat’s sweat magnified by your small size. The smell is stronger when your breath mingles in the warm, enclosed space - musky and humid, spiced like a freshly brewed pot of liquorice root tea.

The pressure gets worse, grinding your body into the floor as his weight shifts, but after what feels like an eternity (And is actually only a second or so), his paw lifts…and carries you with it. You stick to the cat’s sole, trapped beneath his toes and hauled forwards, pinned to his body like one of those fair rides that shove you against the wall while it spins. The world certainly feels like it’s spinning as it rushes by.

THMP

The cat’s steps are soft considering his size, even though he doesn’t know you’re there. But he’s still so many times heavier than you, and you’re taking the brunt of it right on you. The ground slams into your back again, and drives your head deeper in between his toes. The world goes dark, from the black fur engulfing your vision, giving you no idea where you’re going. Up again, carried without any effort lurching gravity then a short freefall before you’re stepped on again, trapped beneath his paw, like extra cushioning, as if the cat’s soft beans need it.

Phirae walks off with you in tow and in toes. If he’s noticed you underpaw, he certainly didn’t react. You groan, and brace for the next step.

You can tell where Phirae’s going by the feel of the floor beneath you. Hard wood turns to cold tile. You squirm, somehow grateful for the heat of Phi’s paw, but he still doesn’t react. You can’t see him, too fuzzy beyond the fur of his toes, but you can hear the cat sighing, and a trio of jingling bells clattering down in a pile. Then, for the first time in a while, Phi’s paw lifts high. High enough that you dangle from his toes, where an errant flex grants you freedom to slip out from his grip and fall onto smooth plastic.

You have a moment to take in your surroundings - of the tall glass panels all around you, and the monolithic sight of Phirae’s nude, collarless form stepping over you and bending over. Before it all gets blurred in a shower of cold water.

Phirae is as surprised as you. He yowls and stumbles out of the cold water, stamping backwards…and onto you once more. The cat’s wet sole doesn’t even loom, the swift pitter patter misses you for the first two steps but catches you on the third. The accidental step holds you in place for only a moment, but there’s no space and no air to breathe. His paw pad pins you to the floor and dunks you right into the stream of running water. You sputter and splash, squirming to suck in a breath through the cat’s fur.

The sound of the shower masks your coughs and sputters when Phirae steps off again, too quick to notice your presence as anything more than a little extra dirt embedded in his sole, to be rightly washed away when the water grows to a steamy, pleasant temperature. Purring relief washes over him, while the runoff trickles down from his body and washes over you.

You can relax, since the flow isn’t strong enough to push you down towards the drain, and the grate is far too small to lose you anyway, but you still have to contend with the deluge of soapy water and bubbles as Phirae showers. That, and his singing. You’re not sure which is more dangerous.

To make up for the ordeal, you get a good view to ogle him dangerously close in shower. His butt jiggles as he spends perhaps a little too long lathering up and massaging his rump cheeks. At least he’s thorough with cleaning up. The same is true for his paws, but perhaps a little too late, now that you’ve already been pressed into them all too closely.

The fresh scent of tea and soap mingles with the steam, from the scented bubbles as they pop around you. It’s familiar, you realise, and smell it a little on yourself, worked in through his paw sweat soaking into you.

You’re hidden in the puddle of bubbles by the time Phirae looks down, so he still doesn’t notice you even when he finishes his shower. You half expect him to step on you again on the way out, but the shadow of his paw passes over you with only a few last drops of water splashing onto you from his toes.

He towels himself off and leaves you sopping wet to escape the shower on your own, having no idea he’d ever carried you, smushed into his paw. If he did, he’d no doubt apologise and blush that you got to stare at him in the shower, but he’d be glad that you were okay. You’re also glad that you’re okay.

You eventually clamber out and find Phirae’s towel left on the towel rack, dangling low enough that you can use it to dry yourself.