A fair Trade, chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3

A chill morning breeze ruffles my fur and sets it standing on end down the bare patch on my

 belly.

The first moment into wakefulness today is me curling up into a tighter ball trying to get 

back to sleep.

Who made the winter so damn cold?

A window was open somewhere in the room, they don't like to keep the big one open.

I mean it's tempting, but I'm not stupid, that's a long drop.

Outside smells wake me up, that horrible smell of machine and oil, it's not as bad at night 

but once you smell it in the morning there's no ignoring it.

I reluctantly get up, stumbling a bit as I will life back into my legs, I notice that they're kind of

 awkward, my stride is off. Stiff?

I must've slept on them weirdly as they're a little strange, I can't quite put my finger on it.

I amble over to the bathroom still puzzled but choosing to ignore it, will probably just go 

away in a little bit anyway.

Walking into the bathroom I'm posed with another puzzle, I look blankly at the sink, then to

 the cupboard above it and the shelves next to that.

Did I come in here for something?

The mirror caught my eye as it showed me in it, and I've always had a strange kind of 

interest in my own image.

I smile at myself trying to see my good angle when it hits me, teeth!

Clean teeth DUH!

I look at the place I usually keep that thing, you know that thing, it's noisy.

Teeth cleaner? Whatever.

It's annoying but necessary like so much stuff.

I look around for it but can't seem to find it.

It takes me longer than I'd like to admit before I realized I wasn't sure what I was looking for.

There are many things that met the image I had in my mind of it, some soft, some hard. One

 thing, long and thin narrow at one end I recognize as related but there's nothing to it 

that...like...does something.

I squeeze it experimentally, nothing.

One end has a loose bit like a hard flap.

I force a claw in and pry it open to find that it was indeed related to teeth cleaning. but none

 of this feels right.

I know this...it's meant to go on the thing that cleans.

Subconsciously my eye is drawn to a corner with a small huddle of similarly shaped objects.

I reach over the sink to grab at one.

This felt better, I smile, I've figured it out. This was the answer.

On closer look it actually has a bit of a different shape to the others. I saw the business end

 of it and recognized it. "Ah". I say aloud

"Brush"

I click in the small round nodule halfway down. I knew it was noisy but holy crap it scares the

 hell out of me. It's almost more than I could bare to not just drop the damn thing on the ground.

I awkwardly lever it in to my reminding myself this is normal despite every fiber of my me being firmly against this action.

Now my memory has never been great but I can't seem to recall this being such an issue 

before, maybe I should attach something to this so it stands out better. Everything in this 

room is pale, white and hard. Maybe something fluffy would be nice? Maybe that would 

make it less threatening too?

It takes some effort but I manage to wrestle it around my mouth, can't believe I do this 

everyday.

The results speak for themselves though, I'm intensely proud of my teeth, what would I do 

without them? How would I eat?

I open wide to admire, running my tongue around them.

Mouth shuts with an audible clack.

I sight the shower in the corner of my eye and just the thought of it makes my fur stand on end.

So glad I don't use that.

I smooth down my fur staring at myself in the mirror watching the brilliant tones of my fur 

spring back in the wake of my hands,

It feels good. I spread my hands down the luxurious thick creamy white on my neck as I 

neaten out the nighttime twists and turns, bunching up and matting patches.

My nakedness stirs more puzzlement in the mirror, I tilt my head quizzically at the man in the

 mirror. There's something off about you, I tell him.

Not wrong, he looks good, I look good I should say. It's undeniable that there's something 

uncanny about my reflection

Not that there's anything I would change about myself.

I run a hand down my back fumbling at my tail.

Well a bit taller maybe.

I mean, it doesn't bother me as much as it should maybe. I am tiny no question.

Much smaller than the average guy for sure. But how many guys out there have such a nice 

coat? If that's the trade I'd say it's fair, more than fair.

I don't know how I would live without it honestly,

Never liked clothes anyway.

Expensive, uncomfortable and the sizes are always fucked up on me, nothing fits.

Even those clothes I got yesterday and they were new.

Maybe that's what's wrong. I do usually put something on.

I picture the man in front of me with clothes on and it just makes me cringe.

No, this is better. Bridget won't mind she's cool with it.

They just block the view, who wouldn't wanna see me?

I smile slyly at myself.

Since when was I so turned on by myself?

Since always.

I run my hands up and down myself, neatening out the kinks in my fur, rubbing my ears.

The toilet always kind of a hassle. Maybe that's what I would change if I could, I've seen how 

easy it is for that guy. The other person here, I forget his name.

He can just stand, whip out and go without issue.

Me though? As much as I like my dick it's not that simple for me.

I've long since found a way around but it gets rather messy.

I lay across the bowl and relieve myself.

Not in 10 years have I found anything that makes this easier, surely there must be others 

with my condition that caters to this.

I lean down and clean myself up.

That's part has put a lot of people off in the past and I can see where they're coming from, it

 is kinda gross but it's just something I do. I mean considering I blow myself a few times a 

week it's not exactly the worst.

And really you can't beat a good tonging,

I smile slyly again.

When did I do that last?

God, why am I so horny?

I continue to walk a little awkwardly rather annoyingly as I leave the bathroom and enter the

 living room to find Bridget preening herself with a small hand held mirror while talking to 

her phone, that's just something people do though, the tinny distorted noise hurts my ears.

She talks loudly and her phone responds in kind and on it sometimes goes for hours. Meh. I

 don't understand, but then I don't much care either.

She winks at me as I pass.

I head to the kitchen and stare at an unopened tuna tin.

Annoyed at the inconvenience of having to make my own breakfast.

"Ugh, come on hurry up." I think. I'm irritable. Still hot and flustered.

She's not even looking at me.

The opener thing is sat on top of it. It's in my reach.

I look back at her,

Not a flicker of awareness.

I look again at the can containing my breakfast.

Well I guess it's worth a try, I mean how hard could it be?

I wrap my hand around the opener, it's a little forced in my grip, probably not designed for 

people like me, typical.

The small blade bites into the top and I'm caught in a spray of salty water.

My thumb struggles to grip the shiny metal and I end up dropping it.

It hits the floor with a loud clatter and Bridget looks my way.

"One sec" she mouths at me.

Determined I pick it up again.

I'm sure I must've used one of these things at some point. It can't be hard.

With the can on the floor and leaning down hard with both hands on it I manage to pierce the lid.

It's stiff and my hands cramp as I try to turn the handle.

I force it and I end up catapulting the can.

Fuck!

It rolls off along the floor leaving a thin trail of brine.

The smell is good of course and I bite back the temptation to just lick it off the floor. That's 

disgusting, I'm such a slob sometimes.

Bridget still, with her phone in her hand walks over and picks up the can off the floor. 

Placing it back on the counter. smirking endearingly at me.

The pitch of her voice heightens which means she's finishing talking soon.

Distorted noises mirror her on the other side.

I assume this is a conversation though how she manages to understand anything that 

comes out of that thing is lost on me.

Must be a foreign language.

Thankfully she stops soon after and opens it properly for me.

"SOoory sweetie, was trying to wrap that up."

"You must be starving!"

She looks at me cradling the opener.

"Oh! careful watch your paws!"

She takes the opener out of my hands.

"My paws?!" I look down at my hands. "Wow!"

"Hey, that's not funny." I say angrily.

I flex my hands, they feel a little stiffer.

Probably just strained them.

"Seriously, Don't joke about that, this is a disability you know?"

Bridget took a step back, looking ashamed.

"I don't mind the other stuff so much but never joke about my hands."

"You don't know what it's like."

"Yeah...I"

She stops.

"Wait, It's just that..."

"..."

"...No... right."

"No... sorry."

She shrunk back and turned around to open the can.

Jesus, I thought she was nice? What the hell was that? Paws?

I look at my hands again, they do look a bit like paws it's true, thick fingers, stubby thumbs. 

But she knows better than to call them that. Was that a jab at me?

Bridget is silent and quickly looks my, way concern on her face. Maybe she didn't know?

She does seem genuinely sorry, she didn't mean it offensively, she couldn't possibly.

She's probably the nicest person I know. Well the only one really so not much competition. But still.

I decide to overlook it.

"Look, let's just ignore that." I say

"I am kind of in a bad mood."

I falsely admit to save her some pain.

"O...okay." She say's looking a little confused. "I didn't know you were sensitive about..this. I 

thought..." She stopped herself.

"It's fine...just, don't worry." I say

Something was wrong here but I didn't want to bring anything up, I don't like people crying 

in front of me.

Least of all Bridget.

She serves me food and we don't talk for a while.

She does bring up though that we have guests coming over today and then they're heading

 out to go shopping or something.

Guests might be cool. I'm not really a people person but it'll be nice to see a couple 

different faces. She doesn't specify who though. Just some people I assume, though she'll 

probably do all the talking.

By the time I'm finished eating she's quietly readying herself in her room.

I'm licking myself over, finding traces of brine that must've caught in my fur from earlier, I'm

 so sensitive to this stuff.

It's like I can feel anything and everything, even the faint dried out drop of salty water.

I'm licking at my hands when a knock on the door startles me. I catches me off guard, I 

must've been a little to absorbed in cleaning, normally someone announces themselves to 

me when the door downstairs opens.

This one made it all the way to the front door.

The smell of a person on the other side, that sharp bite of perfume that masks their natural 

musk fairly well. Someone unfamiliar though, a woman.

But wait, there's something else. I know this smell.

Something stirs in me, a need. I felt it the other day, the house party, that coat.

Freya?

Bridget comes out of her room. A coat on, loud shoes.

Handbag swinging.

No, wait. Freya? That...cat?

I breathe her in again.

Oh man.

What's wrong with me?

I can't think straight.

The door opens and I'm focused on it.

The woman, tall, and blonde. She's carrying a sort of box with a handle.

She looks my way and makes kissing noises at me. She makes some remark I'm too 

distracted to listen to.

They engage in a babble of nonsense. More words, less care

My gaze is pulled to the box.

I catch a flash of eyes looking back as it shifts in the woman's grip.

Green eyes, piercing.

That stir again, warmth, her smell.

I force myself to look away, I can't be here. What's wrong with me?

The woman sets the box down on the floor I force myself to look away. Those eyes have a 

pull on them like a current. It's not natural.

I edge around the kitchen counter trying to put something between me and her.

Freya.

"Hey, Braddie, we're heading out." Say's Bridget. "Me and Claire are going shopping. I hope 

you don't mind."

She catches me trying to make an escape.

"We've brought you a play mate, I think you know her already." She smiles sheepishly.

"Freya?" I say involuntarily. eyes wide looking up at her.

She nod's happily.

"Yes she's gorgeous isn't she?"

"Don't be shy go over to her and introduce yourself, she's super friendly".

The box open now, the thin sleek visage, a brilliant tan hue fading to white down her 

delicious chest.

Her bite-able neck, gorgeous doesn't do her justice.

She looks my way.

Green eyes with the slightest sliver of purest black.

They soften and she relaxes her posture and sits down the slightest bulge on her toned 

backside.

"I..." I can't look away.

"Look I'm sorry about earlier, but this has nothing to do with that. I noticed the other day you

 were interested in something and figured it was her smell that set you off."

She smiles

This is sort of a thanks I guess. Though I can never thank you enough."

She runs a finger down my nose.

"..."

"Don't worry, she's really friendly, super chill. Go over to her."

Bridget gets up, laughs at something said between her and the other guest and leaves.

I don't move,

I'm frozen.

Something seems to have snapped in my head.

I'm locked up.

Freya's soft eyes drag around the room, she walks up to the sofa sniffing at something 

turning her back on me.

My heart skips a beat, the want, the temptation.

"NO." I say aloud startling Freya.

"No...I can't be like that."

With a great amount of force I turn away, I walk away.

I hide.

But the smell, oh fuck, her smell.

It's burrowed deep into my brain, I can't think.

I'm overwhelmed.

It's all encompassing, a strange kind of sweetness, musky in flavour that just has this effect

 on me, I can't describe it.

I've never felt this way before.

I'm standing behind the kitchen counter, having a panic attack when she walks up to me.

She's just there all of a sudden, looking at me, staring into my soul.

She's silent like an expert hunter, she must catch so much. Her territory must be huge.

I sink into her eyes.

I can't even try to ignore her now.

"H..ikgh" My throat locks up. I cough .

Freya flinches a bit but I don't lose her warm loving gaze.

"Hi...?" I say reaching down to make contact.

Freya murrs at me, rubbing her back against my leg.

I lock up at the contact.

"Oh God, Freya."

"What's wrong with me?"

I say cradling my head in my hands. She stands up on her hind legs and nuzzles my nose.

"No please!"

"You don't know how I feel right now."

I push her away,

That stir again, a building warmth. Fuck

She presses her head into my hand massaging her ear.

Ugh, No. So soft...

I press down on my myself. Holding back with fingertips.

"NO!"

I face away from her.

And do my best to walk away quickly.

I trip and fall, face planting into the rug.

She ambles up to me happily as if this is some kind of game.

Her back side swaying in her step.

I can't deny she looks good.

Her lines, her face, her eyes. It's like she was sculpted, by a skilled hand. her soft short fur 

tapering and fading effortlessly into warm browns.

Her eye's unblemished, brilliant, bright yet nonthreatening. I can see something in them, a 

hunger. She is one of those creatures that truly sees the world. Drinking it in.

Intelligent.

I thought I looked good, but holy shit she's on another class of beauty, hers is a statement.

Such flowery words float around in my mind as a struggle with the implications that I'm trying to avoid.

I try to rationalize...

...that must be it, she's just...like, a good looking cat.

Nothing more.

Maybe everyone feels this way occasionally.

Clearly she's some kind of show cat. There's no way she's a normal one.

This must be how those judges feel, they're seeing something normal people don't?

I suppress that little voice that tells me I'm just hiding the truth from myself.

Yeah, She's only hot because she's a model or something. She's hot yeah. like that woman...

I try to picture someone, anyone.

A girlfriend? I've had some. Why can't I think of any?

I can't think right...Freya's eyes just stare back at me digging deep into my mind.

It's fine to feel this way!

She brushes my leg again.

Nothing wrong with that! NOPE!

She's purring now, her soft supple vibrations fill my head, pulling me further down.

I'm on all fours now, it feels nice. My legs were tired, I hadn't noticed. taking weight off them 

seems to have relieved a pressure.

I feel strong, energy welling up through me.

Freya arches her back and presses into me, sliding under my chest heading for my..

I block her, it's out, I can't get it back in.

Part of me doesn't care, like what's wrong with it? Why can't it be out?

"No, I'm naked, I'm in the middle of the kitchen. Someone could see.

Unnh, I shouldn't be naked."

"There's no one around". A little voice counters, growing louder by the second. "Maybe it's okay?"

I look about reminding me of my situation, instincts for survival are weighing heavy on me

 even when there's no risk. Why is it so hard to think?

"Freya, won't mind. Look at her she's seen it all." It says, as coercive as my own thoughts.

What am I thinking? these are my thoughts.

Yeah, of course. what was I worried about?

I'm naked all the time!

I roll over and sit down, legs splayed out in front of me.

No one's around, I'm already naked. But this doesn't solve my main issue here.

It stands at attention.

Freya swings back around, she's interested in it too.

Why wouldn't she be interested? I say to myself, some doubt in those words.

She's just an animal, they...know things.

Her nose twitches sniffing at it, I'm curled over half shielding, half wanting.

I can't think of anything I've wanted more, I want her.

but I can't it's wrong!

Why has Bridget done this to me? Has she slipped something in to my breakfast? Is this 

some kind of sick twisted joy for her?

I try to get angry, try to distract. if anything it just turns to another intense flavor of heat.

I'm angry, annoyed at myself, ashamed, but it's all in the mix. My mind fogs up more, growing

 tunnel vision.

My pelvis is twitching, I can't help it.

Nervous excited energy is setting it in motion, Freya's so close it's taking on a mind of its own.

My heart flutters.

I need more.

Her tail brushes as she smoothly glides past me.

The contact sets a fire deep within me.

Freya just looks up at me oblivious to the fuse she just set a match to.

I try to stand but my legs are like jelly, in my heat and confusion I can't seem to work them.

I need her...No I need to leave, I need to get away.

My mind is tearing itself apart.

I can't possibly do it, I can't fuck her. She's a cat. She's sexy. But...still a cat.

It's wrong!

She's wrong.

She leans into me again and just the closeness of her makes me shiver.

The fine, soft outer layer of fur tickles my bare stomach.

Skin shrinking back in reflex.

More than a tickle.

I'm losing the battle, only threads of sanity are holding me back now.

A thought worms its way into my mind, it doesn't have words just action, meaning.

I know what it is but refuse to dwell on it.

It's framed by more rational thoughts.

They start coming forward, justifications, each of them growing more convincing than the

 last.

Who's gonna know?

Just once won't hurt?

She's totally into you.

When was the last time you got laid?

You need it.

One nugget of truth broke through, a self mockery.

If you jacked off earlier maybe this wouldn't be happening you moron.

Freya stretches in front of me. I can see the ripple of toned muscle beneath her short 

dense fur.

My skin prickles, static in the corners of my vision.

A thoughtlessness comes over me, words escape. The delicious creature in front of me 

robs me of rational thought, no more justifications, no need for them.

No words

No thoughts

Just action.

My mind goes blank.

There are flashes, images.

Her shock, my bite

The chase

She presses into me.

The Heat

My head buzzes.

The raw pleasure, unfiltered.

Static in my head again.

This doesn't feel weird. Why was I so hesitant?

It's familiar, have I done this already?

Static.

Yes.

I have done this before.

Then nothing.

We're sitting together now, in a soft warm buzz.

I feel connected to her on a deep level, I can't believe I was thinking of her as just an animal.

No, she's so much more than that.

I think back to earlier before what just followed, wondering why I was so anxious.

This was far from my first time with a cat.

She is a stunning example though, maybe that was it?

I was nervous, maybe?

My ears flick at each sound coming from the hall way. I don't want to be caught like this.

Sprawled out in amongst cushions. In an afterglow of bliss.

I can't have people know I'm into this. As far as I know no one does but I can't be too careful.

I know I'm not exactly a normal guy but most people frown upon this sort of behavior.

I run a hand along the ridged line of her spine towards her firm backside, the tip of her tail 

swaying lazily.

I breathe her in, she still sets me off after 3 rounds.

I wish I could talk to her, wish I could tell her how beautiful she is.

Something in her gaze though tells me she knows, her self-satisfied eyes.

We clean each other up. A mutual bathing.

I try to clean the apartment too. We kinda got a little weird.

Bridget keeps everything spotless. Cushions were scattered, rugs wrinkled. I think she liked

 being chased. I can't remember clearly.

I had to go on all fours of course, I can't run on two legs. I'm just not built that way.

When I'm around people I stand like them. I think I do it for them more than I do it for me

 though. I don't like feeling so small around them though admittedly.

I could just see her looking back at me invitingly from the cushions. She can't possibly want

 to go again?

I look at the claw marks in the sofa arm. The image of me on top of her flickers behind my eyes.

That would need explaining.

How do I explain that?

I did it?

I look at my hands, the sharp nails I have.

Yeah plausible.

I slipped, I could say.

An accident, of course!

Don't want her to blame Freya, she might not bring her over again.

I grin.

Whatever punishment this would bring would certainly be worth it for another visit.

I shuffle around the apartment putting things back.

Freya just lies on the window sill, having moved during my clean up. She finds that cushion 

placed there and bathes in the noon sun, looking regal.

She reminds me of another I had years ago, a stray I think. I can't remember very well.

Bridget adopted her for a while I think though, the details on that are fuzzy.

Bridget is good like that, caring. Loves cats.

I'm surprised we don't have one actually.

I know of one I could suggest.

Me and Freya enjoy each other's company, she's very affectionate. I mean that might be 

owed to more to our activities. but she's actually nice to be around afterwards.

She's playful but not violent.

I climb up on the kitchen counter to get to some food and she eagerly bounced up with me padding at my chest as I pulled out another can of tuna.

She bites my arm softly, I know what she means though.

I'm determined this time to open it myself, I don't have a choice besides.

The can is too wide for me to grip one handed, so I try pressing it down on the counter like last time.

The opener seems harder to use than before, my thumbs just don't have any purchase on them. Just applying pressure hurts my wrist like I've pulled a muscle.

How does this work? I wonder to myself. I have done this before today. I'm sure of it.

Using both hands I can work the opener, but the can just flies away when I put pressure on it.

Then looking down an idea pops in my head.

Of course, that must be it.

I sit down and hold the can cupping it with my feet. Yes, this is how it's done! 

I can't believe I forgot that.

It's still very tricky but I manage to rotate the can around the cutting edge.

Freya's cute little nose lights up, probably mirroring mine.

I don't mind sharing my plate with her, I feel like she needs it more than me anyway.

She needs strength.

We chill out for a few hours on the window sill, she enjoys watching the nest across the street too. Hours fly by just watching the comings and goings of a thousand little feet and wings.

Eventually Bridget and her friend return, by this point everything is as they left it of course.

Freya has to be plucked from the window sill rather than responding to her call.

She seems reluctant to leave my side, it leaves a bitter taste. But I hide it well.

I watch forlornly as Freya is returned to her crate and leaves me.

Alone.

I don't think I've ever felt this way about someone before.

Is this love?

Bridget is practically bursting with joy several bags in hand.

I guess it's nice she's had such a good time but it only serves to alienate me further from happiness.

She unpacks several things, most of which are just foreign objects to me, wrappings of 

obscure purpose some so small I can't see how they would function as clothing.

People are weird.

"EEeee!" she squeals at me. "I've just had the best time"

"The last few days have been just so magical, but today has left me speechless...again."

I wince and turn my ears away from her.

"Me and the girls went shopping! There are so many things outside of this one little

place aren't there. So many things and people to see. I was shy at first but it was like a

door opened in my mind and it turns out a lot of the people there I've known from some

college I must've gone to at some point. I even met people I've known most of my life.

Gosh I'm so old, yet I feel so fresh. 25 years!??! Gosh humans are great aren't they?"

She spoke so fast I couldn't get in a question to break her flow. But then a lot of that left

me speechless anyway.

Humans are great?

Erm, yeah we are I guess?

"Oh I'm sorry I'm rambling on about myself. How was your play date with Freya?

"She's so cute isn't she?"

"Did you two...get along?"

She smiled at me weirdly like she knew exactly what we got up to.

"Yeah, real cute, she was fine. She mostly just chilled out by the window"

I shrugged.

"We chilled, I played with her. Nice cat all round"

"Is that all?" Bridget said teasingly

"Yeah, of course, why?"

Did I miss something? I my eyes dart around looking for anything out of place.

"We..just... hung out." I looked again at the sofa picturing us there hours ago. The claw marks.

"Huh, ok." Bridget said and shrugged herself.

"So you weren't in to her? I thought you guys would get along. Claire said she was in heat."

I splutter. "What has that got to do with anything??"

She must be on to me. How could she know?

I'm usually better at hiding this stuff, what did I miss?

Panic washes through me. I try my best to hide it.

Bridget frowns, smiles. "Oh never mind, just thought it was relevant."

"Pleased to hear she was fine."

She grins.

"You're looking handsome today, I liked your coat before, but it's so much fuller and thicker now."

Her long slender fingers run down my chest. Dividing the fur that Freya had so delicately cleaned earlier.

"Yeah." I say "It's the cold."

"Always thickens up in winter. Thanks though." I feel pride lift my mood back up.

I feel a bit better. I love Bridget, such a positive person.

I figit around, spending so much time lying down has made my legs feel still again. My 

balance feels off, like I have to keep leaning forward to stay upright.

"You should really give your legs a rest sometime though, it's probably not good for you to 

stand like that."

"Like what?"

"Well, you're upright still." She say's

"That doesn't look comfortable."

I look down at myself, my feet flat to the ground did hurt a bit. It's true.

"I saw you earlier, you were having some problems walking. Don't you think it's time to give it up?"

"Give up what?" I frown

Look, I know you're sensitive about them. But you should try using your hands more to get

 about. It would be so much easier. Trust me."

I look at my hands again today, well I call them hands, but they're not really. Hands imply a 

certain level of functionality. These are...something else. "Hands" is just an easier term to 

wrap my head around.

"Using my hands?" I repeat her.

"Yes. for...walking." She winces. "I'm sorry is that offensive? I wasn't sure."

"Oh no that's fine." I sometimes do yeah. I smile at her. She's so thoughtful.

"Oh Good! You should!" A broad relieved smile blooms on her face.

"Yeah, you're totally right, walking around can get a bit of a pain. To be honest I sort of feel 

like I need to around others." I say

"Like it's weird or something."

"Oh my goodness, no." She say's

"Don't mind me. Do whatever you feel is right. It's your body."

I smile at her, and let myself down. I don't need to though, I just feel like I've been given a 

free ticket to a ride and want to give it a go.

Bright squeals in delight.

"Ooo, you're so cuuuute! I LOVE the tail."

I frown, I don't like that.

"Don't call me cute." I say giving her a look. I'm smiling but it's semi serious. "I hate being 

called cute."

Nothing is more cringey for me.

"I'm not cute, Just because I'm small doesn't mean I'm cute."

"If you must call me anything I'm hot." my turn to wink.

I don't think she's my type but it feels right to flirt back.

What does she mean getting cute anyway? I'm thinner I guess? I'm not cute, I'm hot.

There's a huge difference.

She leans down and pecks my forehead with a kiss. "Sorry, I'll try to hold back on the 

compliments in the future. No promises though."

"You're right though. If I were smaller and hairier, I 'd have a hard time keeping my hands off 

you."

I freeze for a moment at the implication.

"Come on I bought you a present."

She said as if it were nothing.

She stands up and walks over to a bag.

She pulls something out of it. It looked like something else she had bought but smaller. A 

loop of leather though hers was black with a large ring in it.

This one however is white with something dangling from it. A shiny metal disk.

I lean back into a sitting position as Bridget approaches me.

"This is just a little something, I wasn't sure if it was time yet."

She smiles warmly

"But I see you're doing so well with all this."

"I was worried about the clothing situation. But you've moved past that now?"

"Clothes?" I ask. "I do wear them sometimes, yeah."

"But not now?" She asks

"Well, no I guess not." I think, do I even have any to wear at the moment? When was the last

 time I wore them? Maybe I should ask for some just in case.

"Well maybe later." I say, looking again at the thing she's bought me.

"what's that?" I ask

"Well its funny I guess its a kind of clothing, I got it to match your colors, I know you care a 

lot about those" She unclips the loops then I can see it for what it is. A belt.

"That looks a little small for me." I say puzzled. "And what's it for? I'm not wearing pants."

"A belt? No" This is your new collar!" She chuckles.

"A collar? why did you buy me a collar?"  I'm stumped, a collar is for a pet?

"Well it has my name and phone number on it." She reasons

"You'll need that incase you get lost somewhere."

"For when I go out?"

"Yeah exactly." She says

I mean that's actually a good point to be fair. I'm terrible at remembering numbers and I 

have no idea what hers are.

"But why on a collar though?" I ask "Isn't a collar...a bit weird? People might think I'm a 

weirdo."

"Don't be silly, no one will notice, besides where else are you gonna carry it?"

She leans down to put it on.

"Just try it, I'm sure you're gonna love it."

It all sounds reasonable, her logic is sound but the execution feels wrong to me.

I spy the tag, I can see my name written on it and what I assume is Bridget's name but it's a 

little hard to read.

Then a string of numbers. Her phone number I guess. It's all written in a typeface I can 

barely understand. Isn't it meant to be easy to read?

She combs aside the fur on my neck and buckles it in place.

"Oh yes, that looks great on you."

"It's perfect, you look adora... good."

I feel patronized.

"You're sure about this?" I reach up to feel my neck, it feels ok actually, almost natural. 

which is odd.

"Trust me, you'll forget it's even there soon enough."

Experimentally I go to take it off but find the action awkward, there's resistance in my 

shoulders, muscles strain I reach the buckle and that's when I stop.

"Oh this isn't a clip on?" I stammer

"Nope this is quality, only the best for my little man."

"Real white leather, metal buckle, should last you forever."

She steps back and snaps a photo of me.

"Not sure how this works, but I want to remember this."

She looks at the picture on her phone and shrugs.

"Oh, okay...that makes sense."

I can't unbuckle the collar, and feel a little uneasy about it. But Bridget really thinks it looks

 good on me and I don't want to hurt her feelings. I smile back tell her I like it and I'm willing

 to give it a try for a few days.

She's "over the moon" about it.

Soon enough she's right though I do forget its there. Or at least I stop feeling uneasy about

 wearing it.

Of all the nameless obscure objects that Bridget has bought home though the one I've 

found most puzzling is the box that has appeared in the bathroom. I don't remember seeing

 her unpack it, nor did she announce it, but it's here nonetheless.

It wasn't here this morning either so she must have brought it in with her.

It's a tray, with a covering over it, an entrance of sorts, It's quite large but not large enough 

to be some sort of tent.

It was also in the bathroom next to the toilet weirder still.

I poke my head in as the flap folds inwards and I can't lift the lid off.

The tray is filled with chunky white grain, like gravel but almost free of any smell.

I scoop some with a hand and find it lighter than I expected, almost like sand.

A litter tray?

It looked like one for sure. Maybe it was brought in earlier for Freya?

But...I when?

And why is it still here?

Hope filled me, a thought. Maybe Freya's coming back?

Is Bridget adopting her?

The possibilities dance in my mind.

I decide not to ask though. I don't want to spoil it. I leave the litter tray alone and use my 

intended target.

I turn to see myself in the mirror again, checking out my collar. I strain to see myself in the 

mirror, then I realize why. I'm on all fours again. Funny I didn't notice.

I tug at my collar.

She really had chosen a nice one, the white leather compliments my color scheme well, the 

chrome ring reflects the light, sending fractures over the mirror around me.

What's wrong with my posture? My shoulders look hunched forwards, I pull them back but 

they keep resetting closer together, like they're reaching forwards on their own.

I stretch out my arms try to reach back but find that I'm blocked by something. That strain 

again.

God I really need to take better care of myself, maybe I should work out?

My range of motion is usually much better than this.

Maybe I'm sore from earlier?

Wouldn't be the first time I've suffered from carnal pleasures but not like this.

I find I'm leaning my tail out more too as usually it's flat in line with my back, I forget it often as not.

But now it moves out on its own accord. swaying from side to side with my posture. It's 

funny I've never noticed it do that before, it's subtle like some automatic process.

I straighten my back and push back my shoulders not liking this new observation about myself.

I need to work on my posture more obviously, there's no telling what this will do to my back.

 Maybe walking on my hands is bad for me?

By the time I've finished up that other guy is home. He must have a name but guy is enough 

for me. He never talks to me anyway, I'm not sure he likes me that much.

The two of them engage in more noise, the pitch of the conversation raising and falling as it

does. It's all foreign to me, I'm pretty sure its the same language Bridget speaks to me in 

because most of what she says I understand but the words that come out of "Guys" mouth

 are oddly shaped. the right sounds are there but there's no meaning to them. like he's 

speaking in anagram's.

Some of Bridget's more questionable purchases are brought out, leather straps, rings that 

collar from earlier. for a moment I thought it had something to do with me when she winked 

at me. But weirdly it was the guy who seemed to get excited by them.

A word that comes up a few times is "kinky". What's the oddest though is I hear that exact

 sound come from him and all I hear is the noise and not the meaning. Maddening!

I'll have to do some sort of experiment on this. Maybe I'm learning his language through exposure?

Next chance I get I'll raise this with Bridget.

The conversation gets even louder as drinks come out and the background smell of the 

apartment is filled with the fruity chemical tang of wine. Food quickly joins and the 

tantalizing smell of roast pork pulls me beyond reason to stare at a plate for a short time.

Their noise dies down and a new kind of noise takes over, the television. It starts slowly, first

 it comes on and it's passive noise in the background, conversation continues.

Then gradually almost unnoticed the balance shifts and eventually the noises they make 

are in response to the noise on the TV. It's all nonsense of course though. I grow bored of 

the people flickering annoyingly on the screen and turn my head outside the the twinkling 

lights of the outside world. A more static and infinitely more interesting screen.

I'm sitting on the window sill again in my cushion dreamily dozing off thinking of my time 

with Freya and the possibility of seeing her again when suddenly without warning I'm 

grabbed.

Bridget whispers a string of apologies into my ear as she literally lifts me off my seat.

I sink my claws into my cushion and it comes with me.

"Soooorry my little Braddles. You just look so huggable tonight."

Her breath stinks of wine.

I'm speechless, I can't believe what she's just done. How did she pick me up? How strong is she?

"Oof, You still weigh a fair bit don't you?" She says in a motherly tone.

She sits down with me on her lap. The Cushion falls to the floor,

"What? No. stop it, put me back!" I scream at her.

"Ish fiiine, comon, you'll like this." Bridget's drunk.

I can smell it on her.

I try to protest but then she does something that I can't explain, she starts twirling fingers

 through my fur.

And my god it feels amazing.

My protesting stops entirely when she reaches my ears, my weak spot.

How did she know to go there?

I relax now, I don't care about how she just violated me.

I'm past caring.

"That was totally uncalled for." I say to her dozing off under her finger action.

"Yeah, probably. Sorry I'm probably too drunk." She say's her voice happy but her tone remorseful.

"I should've asked first, but then I thought you might've said no."

"Yes, I would've said no."

"I'm still saying no."

My back slumps into her lap legs droop over the edge.

"Ha, that's funny because your body says yes."

She increases her intensity between my ears and I go cross-eyed.

She rests her chin on my head and works down the sides of my face.

"How did you learn to do this?" I ask.

"Oh I just know where to put my hands."

"So how did you really get on with Freya?" She asks sleepily

I flinch despite my trance.

"Wha..what do you mean?" I ask, voice wavering.

"Oh please, it's obvious." she laughs. "Don't worry, there's nothing to be ashamed of.

There's a reason I paired you with her."

"You mean?" You knew?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeeeah. obviously she's not MY type but I can still spot an attractive cat when I see one."

Her head slides to one side, sleep taking her away.

"You're one"

"I'm, attractive?"

"Suuuuure."

"Wait, you're fine with this?"

Bridget doesn't answer, I feel her body behind me relax into sleep. The guy next to me snores.

Oh my god! She knew? Why has she never mentioned it? Did she know about the others?

I should be mortified, worried about consequences, worried that she might've told others. 

Does everyone know?

But I'm not, strangely it doesn't bother me.

Once I'm past the shock of it, I relax.

I feel like a weight has been lifted off of me.

Maybe it's not that weird?

Maybe I've blown it all out of proportion in my head?

Bridget's lack of condemnation is as good for me as the massage I'd just received. I feel 

lighter. The burden of lies lifts off me like sea foam on a breeze.

I fall asleep in Bridget's arms.