Preview: Fox Burglar, Part 3

Mia smiles with satisfaction, passing the coin back to the twins who pass it onto the seated woman, who pulls free the small and formerly concealed usb drive. She holds it up with a ruthless smile. “Whatever do we have here?”

“Porn!” you blurt out, “The weird kind, tentacles everywhere!”

The twins giggle. “And do you imagine yourself as the monster,” one starts, “or the ‘victim’?” the other finishes.

You try not to swallow your own tongue.

The twins nod to each other, “The victim.”

Your cheeks are burning. “Stop doing that!”

They both feign the most insincere innocence, ears conspiratorially flicking to each other as they fake gasp, “Doing what?”

“Stop, assuming things about me!”

“True things?” one asks, “Secret things?” the other finishes. They lean forwards again, large ears focussed on you, dark eyes brimming with excitement as they stare deep into yours, smiling. “Like how you want to be lost in pleasure?” “Overwhelmed by too many intense sensations?” “Made to orgasm until you beg for mercy?” “And receive none?” “Filled in every way all at -”

“Aha!” you point triumphantly. “Wrong! I actually have a strong gag reflex, so you got that one wrong!”

They both smirk. “And the rest?”

Your eyes widen.

Their ears tense with satisfaction. One of them chuckles and one of them chirrups, a sound that leaves you even more lost for words as they sit on the very edge of their seat, their white-tipped caramel tails whipping excitedly behind them, openly undressing you with their black eyes.

You find you can’t handle their gaze and keep your breath steady all at once. You look over at the seated woman, see her amber eyes alight with amusement, notice she’s holding a metallic-red phone with your usb-adaptor and drive both slotted into the base. Your heart skips a beat. But then you remember something, and you breathe out a small sigh of relief.

She smiles in amusement, holding up her phone to show the on-screen prompt. “One encrypted file. And the password is?”

You summon the last of your courage. “Okay, ready? No spaces, all caps, three words: go fuck yourself.”

Silence follows, long and unbearable. It’s almost a relief when you hear a low rumbling rise to fill it, Kana squeezing your shoulders as she growls right behind you.

“Kana!” Amelia and the seated woman say at once, Amelia continuing, “Stop, you’ll scare her!”

“GOOD!” Kana growls, her fingers like steel knives on your shoulders as her claws dig into your skin.

The seated woman does not yell, her voice staying dangerously level. “Kana, let go.”

Kana’s hands freeze. “But, but this little brat insulted you! She can’t get away with that!”

The seated woman’s ears fall. She sighs. “And so you’ll let her dictate your actions then? Give her complete control over what ‘can’ and ‘can’t’ happen? I taught you better than that.”

“I, I…” you’d never have imagined Kana lost for words, “I’ll teach her she can’t-”

“You’ll do nothing of the sought.” It’s not a command, but a statement of fact. “You’ll sit down and let Amelia take over.”

Kana slowly lets go, taking another stunned second to stand. She moves to sit heavily on the couch across from the smirking twins. Kana’s black ears flatten, and she crosses her arms and glares icy daggers at them. The cold of her slitted eyes becomes artic as she lowers her glare on you.

You’re grateful for the distraction of Amelia coming and kneeling behind you, her soft legs wrapping around yours, her arms reaching around your waist and your shoulders and pulling you back into her body. You’re still kneeling but are leaning back off balance, held up by Amelia’s warm softness pressing into you from behind, her breasts spreading across your back.

You shiver as she breathes in next to your ear, “There we are, all safe.” She’s holding around your body in a way that should feel sexual, could at any moment, but also feeling so warm and secure you can’t help but sink back into it with a contented sigh.

You feel her soft hair stroking your cheek as she leans down to your neck. “Now then.” You breathe in as she plants a warm kiss on the base of your neck, holding your breath as she continues, “won’t you please,” another soft kiss, “pretty please,” another, longer this time, her hot lips sucking the bridge of your neck and making your voice shiver out of you, “please be a good girl?”

You cry out softly, both at the pang of gender euphoria and at her lips sucking higher up your neck, making your spine arch into her as you lean back panting, hearing her implore, “Please, tell me what the password is?”

You hear yourself breathe out shakily, “G-g-go fuck yourself,” adding awkwardly, “S-sorry.”

You hear her make a sorrowful noise, feel a stab of pain at the memory of her hurt face, try to set your jaw against it. She’s manipulating you, can’t you see that?! You can, but she’s doing it so well, making you feel so loved and cared for that you don’t want to admit it isn’t real.

Distantly you hear the seated woman speak, her former sternness gone, replaced with one of brimming excitement. “Mia, would you be so kind as to help… convince our guest?”

Mia whines. You wonder again if you heard that right, and wonder doubly at how a whine could sound eager and needy. You feel her weight shift forwards on the mattress, shudder at the unexpected feeling of her knees pressing in between yours. She pushes outwards, opening your legs wider. Your black jeans become taut over your crotch, which is already feeling its own tension, a feeling you desperately try to push down for reasons that are becoming increasingly hard to remember. You look forward, see Mia right there in front of you, so beautiful and so thrilled to be there, breath coming in short, eager huffs as she leans forward over your body, her ears perked and pupils swollen round.

You can’t look away, even when you hear the seated woman add: “This should help.” You half see in your periphery her pass something to the twins, hear them giggle as they pass it down to Mia. She doesn’t look as her hand closes around it, her smile broadening.

She brings that clasped hand up your body, extending one finger and thumb, claws clinking around the pull of your vest’s zipper. She keeps staring into your eyes as she eases the zipper open.

You hear Amelia make that sorrowful noise that hurts your heart. You remember her arms around you as they reach inward above Mia’s descending touch, Amelia taking hold of the open center of your vest just as the zipper pops free. You breathe in as you feel her lean in to plead in your ear, “You don’t have to do this,” and pulls your vest open, sliding it down your unresisting arms.

You struggle to form words, your breath coming short and hard, all while trying to think of anything other than hard. “W-what, what do you mean?”

She slides the vest over your trembling hands, moving her waist back a little to pull the vest out from between your bodies. Then she takes hold of your sides and pulls you back into her warmth again, felt even more clearly now through your thinner top and the straps of your harness. Her voice is as warm as she is, inviting and invigorating as she whispers in your ear, “You could be mine.”

You breath out a shuddering whimper, try in vain to hear through your thundering pulse as she continues, “You could let me look after you, keep you safe. You just need to trust me, and tell me the password.”

You feel a sour pang of betrayal at the non-reveal of her agenda, that feeling taking root as Mia adds, “Or you could not.” You focus on her, letting her gaze hold you as her hands lay on your black top just above your breasts.

You hold your breath, until she reaches in to unclasp the upper buckle of your climbing harness with a meaningful click. She keeps staring excitedly into your eyes, drinking in your reactions as you feel her run her hands down your heaving chest and trembling stomach. She adjusts her grip with a high-pitched gasp, fingers reaching down your waist towards the well or tension you’re utterly failing to control.

You hold your breath, waiting, feeling her take hold of your lower buckle and unclasping it with another meaningful click that makes you whimper with disappointment.

Mia is breathing quickly again, her breaths making that huffing sound again as she stares at you with unconstrained excitement. She seems to take great effort to pull her hands away from your waist, reaching up to your shoulders to slide the upper straps of the climbing harness down your arms, dropping them over your hands. She leaves the harness hanging loose around your knees as she takes hold of your wrists, pulling just enough to make you feel her strength, and you hate yourself for how much that excites you!

You try to focus on something else, notice that one of her hands is only holding on with only three fingers, her index finger and thumb holding something else. But you are very much distracted as she leans forward over you again, bringing her lips so very close to yours that you can’t breathe, so close you can feel her voice inside your mouth as she groans, “I hope you don’t tell us the password.” She breathes out shakily over your lips, her tone high with need as she adds, “Because I’m really looking forward to making you scream it instead!”

You feel Amelia gently reach across your neck to cradle your jaw, turning your unresisting face to stare into hers, right before you, feeling her breath on your lips. “Oh please, Vili,” you breathe in her breath that just said your name, “please let me look after you. Tell me the password.”

You feel Mia’s breath moving down the exposed other side of your neck, feel her move all the way back up again to whisper desperately in your ear. “Please don’t.”

Your mind is so completely overwhelmed, your heart pulled in so many directions you just can’t keep up, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but frantically whimper, “Go fuck yourself?”

You hear Mia make that high pitched whine, letting go of your wrists and reaching eagerly up to you. You’re still looking into Amelia’s eyes, your heart hurting with her sorrowful frown as she lets you go. The pain swells as she does, so much more important than the small wet sound coming from Mia, as of someone putting something in their mouth. But all of that is forgotten as Mia takes your face in both hands, forcefully turning it away from Amelia and, without a word, pulling you into a desperate kiss.

Continue

Preview: Fox Burglar, Part 2

Somehow you keep your heart from climbing out of your throat. You feign honest confusion, “You mean you didn’t order this family sized pizza?”

Again you feel Kana’s hand tense on your shoulder with the effort of not squeezing. One of the twins chuckles, their large ears lowering conspiratorially. You realise then that only the fluffy insides of their ears are white, the backs the same rich orangy-caramel colour as their short hair, but are very much distracted by them whispering loud enough for you to hear, “I hope it comes with extra sausage.”

Your face goes blank. Were this any other circumstance you’d have very pointed words to say about that, or at the very least a withering glare. But right now you’re still a bit too busy trying to control your thundering heart, grateful for the distraction of Kana flatly pointing out, “You’re not even holding a pizza.”

“Oh damn, I knew I was forgetting something! I’ll just go and - yep, okay staying right here.”

The seated woman regards Kana with a warning glare. Then she turns to the orange-haired woman. “Mia, would you be so kind as to search her?”

“Gladly!” Smiling excitedly, Mia holds your gaze the entire time as she comes forward to kneel before you on the bed. Right before you, the very naked and exquisitely beautiful woman kneeling on the bed right before you, making it easy not to look down when you can’t look away from her enchanting smile and eager blue eyes, her pupils swelled round with excitement.

You feel yourself blushing, try to look away, to notice any other detail - like how her skin is glossy smooth, her curled hair the colour of gleaming rust, and her ears the most fox-like yet, orange on the outside, creamy-white on the inside and tipped in glossy black.

Her ears perk. “You like my ears?”

You swallow, “They’re um, very… big.” You silently groan.

Mia chuckles, “Well, thank you.” She looks down at your lips, bites hers, and leans in meaningfully, her head angling as her lips draw close to yours. She stops before touching, and you find yourself holding your inward breath with your lips parted, waiting. She smiles, showing her fangs, cupping your cheek and running her thumb wetly over your lower lip.

“I like your lips,” she whispers for just you to hear, “they’re very soft.”

She pulls back, and you breathe out a disappointed sigh, coming back to your senses as you feel her pop the button of one of the many small pockets of your vest.

“H-Hey, wait a minute -” but before you can do anything about it Kana is kneeling behind you, her muscular legs wrapped around yours and her hands holding your shoulders with the most definite suggestion of force.

You shudder as she breathes in right next to your ear, her voice low as a growl that sends shivers down your spine. “Don’t. Move.”

You can’t help yourself, “Or whaAAAH-” Your entire body is shaking frozen, held in place by the distinct feeling of her sharp teeth holding the edge of your ear. She’s not hurting you, but the threat is very much there, drawing all your focus to the shivering awareness of her canines ever so lightly pressing into your skin, two frigid points amidst the languidly wet warmth of her lips holding your ear.

You distantly hear Amelia beside you tutting. “Kana, that isn’t necessary.”

You sense movement, and Kana’s mouth gasps free of your ear. Her hands and legs tense against you and her breath is felt in cool bursts on your wet skin as she winces, “Ow. Ow. Ow!”

You feel her suddenly go slack, panting for a long moment before breathing out a forceful growl. “Don’t pull my ears!”

Amelia’s tone is dangerously sweet. “Yes, it isn’t pleasant when someone takes liberties with your sensitive ears, is it?”

Kana’s hands grip your shoulders, her tone rueful. “I was trying to keep this little brat still for Mia!”

Your mind catches up to you, and you distantly register that Mia has already gone through half the pockets on your vest, passing the varied contents back to the twins who pass them onto the seated woman, whose ears and eyes are now attentively focussed on a small, grey usb-c adaptor. You freeze, taking great care not to react, not to sigh in heartfelt relief as the woman places the apparently uninteresting adaptor on the table next to her amidst a small flashlight, spare climbing rings, a stick of gum and so on.

In time Mia comes to the small pocket near your hip. You cringe, your arms flinching forwards, stopping as you feel a hand reach up the back of your neck, cupping the base of your head. You feel claws, but they’re careful not to scratch you as the hand bunches into a fist, pulling your hair in a way that leaves you gasping up at the ceiling in a feeling far sweeter than simple pain.

“See?” you dimly register Amelia’s sweet voice, “there’s always a nicer alternative.”

Distantly you feel Mia open the pocket and pull out the contents, it all feeling suddenly unimportant as you stay gasping up at the ceiling - until you remember what those contents were! You struggle to look down just as she looks up, one eyebrow raised. She smiles knowingly, and this time it undoes you for a whole new reason.

“Mia?” the seated woman asks, ears perked with interest.

Without a word Mia passes the contents back to the twins, who gasp and giggle as they pass them onto the seated woman. You swallow, make yourself look, see her sitting there holding a pair of condoms in one hand and a small tray of blue pills in the other, regarding you expectantly between them.

“Whaat?!” you squark when you can’t bear the silence any longer, as difficult as it is to say anything with Amelia sweetly gripping the back of your neck, “I’m responsible, ahaa, sue me!”

The seated woman nods at Amelia, who eases her grip free of your neck. Your body untenses all at once, letting you can breathe at last.

Still panting, you look over your shoulder more than a little ruefully, “What happened to not hurting guests?”

You hear Amelia breath in sharply, look up to see a look of genuine horror on her face. “I’m so sorry, was that too hard? Did I hurt you?”

“No I,” you can’t help yourself, that look of honest hurt so much more than you can bare, especially given the truth. “Not, not exactly, no.”

Kana chuckles darkly behind you. She reaches one clawed hand around to hold your neck where it is, keeping you looking back over one shoulder as she moves to the other. She uses that growling tone you feel deep inside, it now sounding different somehow, hungrier, her breath hot against the exposed side of your neck. “Oh, come on, you loved it!”

Again, you just can’t help yourself. “So you’re psychic then? How do you know I AAAHAAA!” Her teeth sink just into your neck around the sensitive bridge, her lips holding your trembling skin and applying the lightest suction to wrench another moan out of you.

She lets go, leaving you panting hard and blushing before her, barely able to hear her stating with pride, “I know.”

“You, and I,” you manage between breaths, “need to have, a talk, about consent.”

You hear a crinkling pop, look up to see the seated woman having removed one of the blue pills, holding it up between two claws to her golden eye. Your heart stops, and seems to start again in painful reverse as she looks down at you with what looks like genuine curiosity.

You swallow hard, unable to shift the lump in your throat, nor keep your voice completely level as you feign indifference, “You never know when you’ll need painkillers?”

“Or viagra,” one twin adds, making you stare at them in stunned betrayal.

They both lean forwards in a way that brings their small and shapely breasts together, which you are not looking at. You look anywhere else, noticing the light shade of pink deep within the white insides of their ears, the same pink as their cheeky smiles. You can’t even see the slitted pupils within the darkest brown of their eyes, seeming to see right through you.

The one nearest to the seated woman inclines her head towards the condoms and tablets, asking, “And is that for your partner,” before the other finishes, “or for you?”

You stare at them in genuine shock. “That’s a bit of a personal question!”

The twins look at each other, nodding, “For her.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, and you don’t know if it’s a blush or anger. “Hey, how would you like it if I asked what was in your pants?”

Both the twins look down at their bare legs. Both the twins open their bare legs, spreading them wide before your gaze.

You learn two unexpected things then. First, that their hair is naturally caramel. And second, that there’s a personal reason why one of them recognised viagra.

You look up into their cheeky smiles, hating yourself for blushing. “Look, I can’t exactly carry a handbag on a job, so it all ends up in my vest, okay?! There’s nothing weird about -”

“Tell me about this job,” the seated woman asks.

You immediately stop talking.

She raises an eyebrow. “No witty rejoinder?”

“I, uh… I’ve come to clean the pool?”

The twins giggle. “She is horny!”

“My mind is trying to dig itself OUT of the gutter you’ve dragged it into, thank you!”

You remember Mia before you as she makes a high-pitched chuckle. You’re still wondering if you heard that right, until she leans closer again, reaching with both hands around to the back of your neck, pulling you forward towards her parted lips. She stops you even closer this time, so close you can feel her breath on your open lips, swear you can feel her whisper, “But we could have so much more fun if you didn’t.” She looks down then, her pupils narrowing slightly as she notices something.

She slides one hand around the side of your neck, the side Kana exposed and… interacted with. You shiver as Mia runs her touch past the wet spot, tracing down to the hem of your top, where an inch of silver chain is peaking out.

Oh no.

You try to keep your face blank as she pulls the necklace free of your clothes. You feel Kana reach up, wince as her claws pinch your skin and the clasp pops free, the chain falling away from the large, impractically thick silver coin now in Mia’s hand.

Her ears tense forwards and her eyes visibly dilate as she examines it carefully, turning it over and over, your nervous voice blurting out: “It’s uh, just a family heirloom, a good luck charm, a -”

You didn’t notice Mia’s claws until now, even when she stroked your lip or held your neck, making you belatedly realise how deft she is. But you notice her claws now, pale and creamy, one pointing at the centre of the coin.

Your heart sinks, every nervous beat clearly felt as she uses the tip of her claw to trace the slightly raised shield in the centre of the coin’s design, feeling all the while like she’s tracing your straining heart. She presses in, and with a metallic click a section of the coin’s edge opens.

Fuck.

Continue

Preview: Fox Burglar, Part 1

The mansion was meant to be unoccupied.

Your client had assured you it would be, given explicit instructions for your target, even an optimal route through the air vents, where you now lay, looking down into a warm and stately room that was most definitely occupied! Compared to the dull metal of your surroundings the room looks positively decadent, golden firelight illuminating lush red carpets, a large round bed made up in glossy red silks and surrounded by sumptuous burgundy couches, the dark leather contrasting the bare skin of the seated and very naked women.

You can feel yourself blushing hotly under your facemask, your embarrassment rather ironic given you’re wearing black climbing gear and a grey beanie in the vent of a mansion you are definitely not supposed to be in. But it was meant to be empty, so why is there a room full of naked people! Several of them have glasses of wine, one mug of beer held in the hand of a tall woman with short black hair and large feline ears… wait. You lean closer, placing one gloved hand on the vent, which immediately crashes open.

You’re lucky the bed is underneath the vent, the mattress thick enough to cushion your sudden and violent landing. You hear gasps of shock, realise you have mere moments to take advantage of it. You open your mouth, look forward, and find yourself staring up into the slitted, amber eyes of a woman so radiantly beautiful she takes your breath away.

She’s reclining in a leather armchair between the sofas, the gleaming red of her dress and the glossy black of her long hair matching the glossy black fur of her ears and the gleaming red of her full lips, their corners smiling around the white tips of fangs.

“Good evening,” she remarks with bemused interest.

“Uh…” you manage. You sense movement around you, and realise with a sinking feeling that you’ve missed your chance. But still you try.

“Well, that concludes our annual security check!” Your tone is one of bold confidence, not a hint of panic as you start to rise with painfully measured ease. “You should receive our full security report in the morn-”

You make it to your knees, but no further, your nonchalant attempt to stand stopped by a very firm hand on your shoulder. You look up, find yourself pinned under the icy glare of the tall woman with short black hair, her jaw set and her slitted blue eyes freezing you in place.

You sigh, “Yeah I didn’t think that would work.”

You feel another hand settle on your other shoulder, look the other way to gaze not as far up into the hazel eyes of a curvy blonde woman. Her large round glasses and freckles look indecently cute amidst her short fringe and tossled golden ringlets. She’s smiling warmly down at you, and it takes you a moment to notice the white tips of her canines or the shaggy white fluff inside her blonde ears.

Her voice is warm and earnest. “It was a spirited attempt.”

You tear your gaze away, look forward to the singularly dressed woman, still reclining in her chair, regarding you with patient curiosity. Without looking she reaches to the small round table beside her chair, her black claws clinking around the crystal of a stemless wine glass. The liquid looks a richer red than you’d expect, with a hint of brown. Fortified wine maybe, you hope, as she brings it to her scarlet lips and takes a luxuriously slow sip, closing her eyes and inclining her head as she joyfully swallows. Her lips part, and she lowers her gaze on you again.

You swallow too, but manage to keep your voice level as you remark, “You seem busy. I can come back later if - ow -” your second attempt to stand stopped by the black-haired woman tightening her grip like a vice, her claws digging into your shoulder.

The seated woman glares up at her. “Kana. We do not hurt guests in this house.”

The tall woman, Kana apparently, relaxes her grip. She says nothing, though her black ears are perked and one dark eyebrow is raised, a shadow of movement flashing behind her as her fluffy black tail swishes in annoyance.

She’s a kitsune! Or a vulpawere, you aren’t sure which word is right. You’ve met nekowere before, spent a truly amazing night with one discovering just how inhumanly strong and enthusiastic they could be, so viscerally enjoying every scent and taste of you. But this is your first time meeting a kitsune, several in fact, the couches still holding a strikingly beautiful orange haired woman with warm blue eyes and a knowing smile that makes your heart leap, and on the other coach a pair of lithe twins with short caramel hair and very large white ears both sitting on the edge of their shared seat, intensely dark eyes staring hungrily at you. Six kitsune, five very visibly naked, a fact you are deliberately not examining further, even as your treacherous mind wonders if the same traits applied here, both the strength and the…

“I do apologise,” the seated woman’s voice draws you back to her world, “pain is such a callous way to get someone to obey, especially when there are such,” she takes a long and meaningful sniff of her ‘wine’, staring at you over the glass, “sweeter alternatives.”

You swallow. “Delicious baked goods?”

You feel Kana’s hand tense on your shoulder, as does the blonde woman’s in time with a barely stifled laugh.

The seated woman raises an elegantly shaped eyebrow. “However. If you are to be treated as a guest in my house, I think it’s only fair we see your face.”

You breathe in sharply through your mask. “Um, well actually I have a rare skin condition that prevents me from -” Kana pulls the mask from your face “- aaand never mind.”

The twins gasp, the orange-haired woman biting her lip in a way that undoes you, even more than the steady gaze of the seated woman and the way the corner of her lips raises with interest.

They’re all staring at your bare face, and you try not to shrink before their gaze, feigning polite interest as you ask, “What? Did the mask smudge my lipstick again?” You don’t ask if your five o-click shadow is showing through your concealer, nor any of the other self doubts their gaze is bringing to the surface.

A gentle but firm hand takes your chin, pressing underneath to lift your suddenly unresisting gaze up to face the blonde-haired woman. Her glasses make her eyes look bigger, the flecks of green shifting as her slitted pupils swell. She smiles with earnest interest. “Why do you wear lipstick under your mask?”

“I, um,” you struggle to think with her fingertips holding under your chin, pressing into a point that seems to have turned off your spine. You take a defiant breath. “To make me feel pretty, why else?”

She just keeps smiling warmly down at you as she strokes her thumb over your chin. “Not just feel pretty.” She raises her other hand to slide your beanie off the back of your head. You try not to shrink again, knowing your messy and cheaply bleached pink hair must look -

“Beautiful,” the blonde says with an earnest smile.

Oh no, gendered complements, your one weakness! You can feel the swell of gender euphoria, intense and exhilarating, try in vain to push it down even as she stares directly into your eyes, really seeing you, and saying with absolute honesty, “You’re gorgeous! What’s your name.”

“Vili,” you hear yourself say. Your eyes widen. Why did you just give your real name?!

“Vili,” the blonde smiles, making you breathe in sharply at the thrill of your chosen name in her mouth, “Such a pretty name.”

“Th-thanks,” you stammer, adding on automatic, “I picked it out myself.” You mentally kick yourself - you’re so used to making that joke you didn’t even think if it would be safe to do so here! What is wrong with you?!

The blonde laughs sweetly. “Wonderful choice. I’m Amelia by the way. It’s lovely to meet you Vili.”

You breathe out shakily, the anxiety in your heart melting into the warmest joy. Stop falling in love with her you idiot!

Amelia lets go of your chin, letting you turn forwards with a carefully calm expression. The seated woman is still regarding you as she takes another sip of her drink, her black tail swishing behind her shoulders.

“So then,” she places her glass down with a meaningful clink, before turning back to you, pinning you under her golden stare. “What, Miss Vili, are you doing in my house?”

Continue

Preview: Catgirl Got Your Tongue, Part 3

Where Etci kissed enthusiastically, and Vikki kissed desperately, Jerrie kisses deliberately. Her wet lips explore yours, the tip of her tongue tracing the shape of your gasping mouth. Her tongue entreats your lips for entry, and you open your mouth gladly to let her explore further, then inhale sharply as she sucks your lower lip into her mouth and applies the slightest pressure of fangs. You feel her smile against you as she lets it go to kiss it better, her chest vibrating against your arm.

You feel Vikki’s hands shaking as they clench and unclench on the sides of your waist, fingers tensing as if they want to grab on firmly. A point slightly past each fingertip presses into the fabric of your dress with every tense, making popping noises as the tips of her claws tease through the fabric repeatedly. The heat between her legs is still pressed firmly against you, and you swear you feel wetness through the fabric of your dress. You also feel the tensing effort of her legs wrapped around your hips, her calves flexing against the outside of your thighs, a strange mix of silky fur and hard, taut muscles, staying motionless with painful effort.

You hear Vikki whimpering, Jerrie’s lips and tongue slowing and drawing back into an emotive kiss goodbye. She breathes out hard.

“Okay,” she purrs under her breath, “okay. Before Vikki explodes, I need to ask you some practical questions. Last STI check?”

You blink, struggling to make your memory work. “Uh, a few months ago, as part of hormones. All good, and I haven’t been with anyone since. And I’m sterile,” Why did you add that? “As part of hormones too. And surgery.” Stop talking!

You can feel Vikki’s legs flexing around your hips, hear Etci making a half moan, half chuckle behind you. Her fingers run playfully up the sensitive sides of your neck, fingertips tracing the edges of your ears and making you shiver.

It’s difficult to focus on Jerrie as she takes another deep breath, “Okay, good. Same for us three with STI’s and on birth control, right?”

“Yeah,” Etci whispers in your ear before taking your earlobe into her mouth and and a rush of overwhelming sensation, letting go to add, “I’m clean and safe. Dirty and risky in other ways though,” she playfully licks the back of your ear.

You dimly register Jerrie’s voice asking, “Right, Vikki?”

You hear Vikki whimper assent, hands grabbing at the front of your dress, the tips of her claws sinking just into your skin on the tender edge of pain, her legs tensing and untensing rhythmically around you.

“Okay,” Jerrie purrs, “sorry I really should have asked all this before we started,” Etci’s sucks your other ear into her mouth, the fingers of her other hand tracing the same movement as her tongue around the shapes of both your ears. You dimly hear Jerrie take another steadying breath, “Okay, is there anywhere you don’t want to be touched? Etci!”

Etci lets go of your ear with a giggle, “Oh you can touch me anywhere you fucking want!”

You postpone dealing with that to give yourself a moment to gather your scattered thoughts, “Um, no, no I’m good with,” you feel Vikki’s heat pressed against you, tensing with the mounting effort of not moving, “I’m okay with being touched anywhere.”

You can hear Jerrie breathing in deeply, “Okay, last question.” She breathes out a heavy purr. You hear and feel her leaning closer, feel her arm move before Etci lets go of your ear with a disappointed moan. You hear Jerrie’s lips part right next to your ear, before she whispers: “Are you okay with cumming inside of us?”

You make a strangled noise, as much for the question as for Vikki’s flinching against you, her hips losing the battle and tensing against you in brief spurts of intense half-movement.

Jerrie places a hand on Vikki’s leg, stilling her at the cost of another louder, even more pained whimper. You feel Jerrie turn back to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t -”

“I want to,” you blurt out, “I’m okay with - that.”

Vikki whimpers again, legs tensing even as Jerrie’s hand holds her still. Vikki leans in, her chest pressing warmly against your front, her small hands holding bunches of the top of your dress, her lips breathing against yours. You realise you’ve closed your eyes, opening them again to see Vikki’s pink eyes turned almost black, her pupils so dilated they all but flood out her pink irises. She’s breathing hotly against your lips, making little whimpering noises that morph into her pained voice asking, “Oh please, please, please cum inside me, please!”

You lean in and kiss her.

Her breath explodes out of her and into you. She throws her arms around your neck and kisses you back all at once. You reach in and hold her waist, instantly feeling her hips eagerly thrusting over you, making you cry out even before she sucks your tongue into her mouth, moaning as she sucks up and down its length in a way that is absolutely indecent. You struggle to remember her as a meek little thing, even before her lips break free in a wet gasp so she can frantically kiss down your neck, pulling at the fabric of your dress with pained whimpers.

“Do you,” you breathe, “do you want me to take it off?”

She nods emphatically, hips still grinding against you even as she frantically yanks the hem of your dress out from between her thrusting legs, letting you feel the silky contact of her legs wrapped tightly around your hips, thrusting over them. Breathing hard you struggle to concentrate on pulling the hem up your waist.

“Here,” you hear someone say, unsure if it was Jerrie or Etci, both helping you pull your dress up your body. You raise your arms, letting Etci pull your dress up and over your head and past your raised hands. You try to lower your arms again, but find Etci hugging them, kissing your skin, turning one hand to kiss your sensitive wrist. She runs her fingertips down the inside of your forearms, making you shiver even as your whole body moves with the rhythm of Vikki’s hips. You feel Etci’s lips moving down your forearms, from one intense kiss to the next, moving with purpose down to the inside of your elbow where she sucks and makes you gasp into Jerrie’s waiting lips. At least you think it’s her based on the deliberate way she kisses you, matching your pace as she finds your tongue, purring around your moaning breaths. A moment later you feel Vikki laying her hands on your bra and burying her face between your breasts, inhaling against your skin and groaning out a long purr. She starts lapping at your skin, moving out across one half-covered breast as her hips keep thrusting faster over the building pleasure in your lap.

You feel Jerrie’s hand slide in behind your back, finding the clasp of your bra. She stops kissing you to ask with a breathy voice, “May I?”

“Please,” you gasp, and she does something complicated and deft, hooks popping free one after another until the band springs apart, your bra hanging loose from your shoulders. Vikki lifts your bra up and gasps out a purr, her lips still vibrating as she takes your nipple into her mouth.

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Preview: Catgirl Got Your Tongue, Part 2

There are three couches, around a table with folded bedding waiting for when the four of you went to sleep… on three couches. You postpone handling that to consider the much more immediate question of whether you should sit on one of the free couches, while Vikki is sitting there all by herself, very clearly having made room for you.

Your heart racing with the fear you’re both over- and under-thinking this, you make your way over to where Vikki waits, carefully sitting beside her with enough room not to touch. She instantly moves closer until her thigh is pressed against yours, her white fur silky soft against your leg.

Jerrie moves up to you, holding two glasses perfectly level as she gracefully sits on your other side. She leans over to offer your drink, her soft chess pressing into your upper arm.

“Thank you,” you squeak, somehow taking the glass without moving above your elbow. You look up to see Etci standing there, tight red top and black short shorts leaving precious little to the imagination. Where is she going to sit? She seems to be figuring that out herself, before smiling knowingly, walking up to the Jerrie’s armrest and nimbly climbing up and around to the back of the sofa. You lean forward to make room, hear her lay down behind you, feel two hands taking your shoulders and pulling you back, the back of your head resting against something both soft and firm.

You don’t dare look back to confirm what you’re touching, distracted by her hand letting go of one shoulder and tracing up and into your hair, fingertips sinking in and playing. It feels nice, her fingers lightly stroking and gently pulling, and with a start you feel her fingernails scratching the most intensely pleasant sensations into your scalp. You shiver, dimly remembering that she didn’t have fingernails, but unable to reconcile the image of extended claws with the most blissful points tracing tantalising circles around your head.

“Comfortable?” Jerrie asks, at least you think it’s Jerrie. She still leaned forward, her own softness still pressing into your arm.

“Mhmmm,” you try to nod, Etci’s other hand instantly holding the back of your neck.

“Careful,” you hear her say behind you, feeling the vibrations of her voice against the back of your head. Gently her first hand resumes its magic along the top of your scalp, her voice felt adding, “No sudden movements please, I don’t want to scratch you. Not if you don’t want me to.”

Vikki on your other side leans closer, her arms pressing up to hold yours. You hear her whisper something.

“Sorry?” you struggle to focus, “What was that?” It takes enormous effort to focus over your thundering pulse enough to hear her only slightly louder words.

“You can put your arm around me. If you want to.”

You feel like your heart just exploded. Without daring to say a word you shuffle your arm out from between the two of you, your forearm brushing the soft tips of her ears as you move your arm behind her head.

“Sorr-” you start, interrupted by her lunging into your side. You feel her arms wrapped around you just below your chest, her face buried into your side, nose pressing into the side of your breast, drawing in a deep breath. She starts purring loudly, the rumbling sound vibrating against you.

You half flinch as Jerrie lays a hand on your leg, immediately letting go.

“Sorry,” you manage, “just,” you struggle to breathe with Etci repeatedly splaying her fingers out over the top of your head, sending shivers down your spine, and you don’t know if it’s your shivering or if she’s purring against the back of your head too. Meanwhile, Vikki is snuggling into your side, inhaling and purring deeply. You lay your arm down over her small shoulders, feel her press against you harder. You swallow, “Just caught me off guard.”

“It’s okay,” Jerrie soothes beside you, more gently laying her hand on your bare leg, fingers stroking your skin. You think you hear her purring too, softly, her voice low but earnest, “If you’re overwhelmed or need some space, just say so.”

“I’m okay,” you manage as Etci uses both hands to scratch blissfully around both sides of your head, Vikki snuggling up higher against you, nose moving towards your armpit, inhaling deeper, purring louder. She somehow snuggles closer, crawling half into your lap with one leg sliding between yours. Her skin feels like warm silk, her smooth fur making your nerves sing.

You hear Etci purr behind you, “Hey.” At least you think it’s, um, what were you…

“Yeah?” you manage, not really sure who you’re talking to.

She stops scratching your head, the sensations still singing everywhere she touched as she runs one hand down to the back of your neck, the other sliding round to cup your chin. You feel her move behind you, your spine like putty as she cradles your head, letting it fall back until you’re looking up into her golden eyes, bright in the dark as they smile down at you. She licks her lips, their gloss catching the light as she leans down, and presses them to yours.

You kiss her back, feeling her breathing you in, her tongue inquisitively tasting you, feeling her moan into your mouth before her tongue hungrily seeks out yours. You can taste the milk and vodka on her, drinking in the shivering richness as she kisses you with steadily increasing fervour.

You feel Vikki moving in your lap, straddling your hips, the hem of her dress felt on the outside of your legs. You feel her silky fur wrapped around your legs, her front pressing warmly against yours, her hands reaching around your head, pushing under Etci’s grip and angling your head forwards into another much more ardent kiss. You hear her moaning sharply between kisses, which is not a sound you expected Vikki to make, but that’s not half as surprising as the absolute desperation with which she kisses you, moaning each time she tastes your lips or laps at your tongue, her hands shaking as they pull you into her overwhelming need.

“Vikki,” Jerrie’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far off. You feel her sliding her hand between you and Vikki, slowly but firmly pushing Vikki back, who whimpers as her lips leave yours, hands trying to pull you closer despite Jerrie stopping you.

You feel Jerrie’s softness move against you as she leans closer, a new kind of tension in her purring voice. “Is this okay? Do you want this?”

Vikki, still trying to pull you closer, unintentionally moves herself in your lap, making you gasp as she moves over something hard. She gasps too, adjusting and moving a part of her that’s much softer and hotter over you, moaning sharply as she does.

“Vikki,” Jerrie cautions, Vikki whimpering again as she holds herself still with a great effort.

Jerrie lets go of Vikki, cupping your chin and turning you towards her, those jade irises almost crowded out by her dilated pupils. She’s breathing heavily, purring under her breath, but swallows to ask with a voice barely level. “Are you alright? Are you good with this?”

Now it’s your turn to whimper, as you emphatically nod.

Jerrie beams, “Good”, and leans in to kiss you.

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Preview: Catgirl Got Your Tongue, Part 1

It'd been a great party, the first you’d attended in far too long. Working from home was a luxury you were unbelievably grateful for, but still, just being in the same room as people, being able to wander up to groups of people and start conversations had felt nothing short of magical. You’d missed people, old friends, new friends, and even:

“More milk!” Etci demands, slamming her white-stained glass down on the table. A few drops run down her chin, creating lines in her fine white fur at the corners of her pink lips, where the tips of her fangs are just visible. The white of her face stands in stark contrast to her already unruly brown and black hair, streaks of orange speckled throughout, her darkly furred and pointed ears most visible for their light pink insides.

“Say please,” Jerrie insists, the tall woman taking Etci’s cup and adding it to her own with a clink, “quietly if you can.” Her hair is long and glossy orange, striped darker orange down its considerable length, the same stripes cupping the outside of her orange arms and legs, accentuating their length too. Her orange furred ears are slightly smaller and rounder than Etci’s, angled forward attentively, her lighter orange face fixed on Etci with infinite patience.

Etci throws up her hands, “Fine!” Then she smirks, turning to Jerrie to drawl with sickly sweetness, “P-lease.”

Jerrie sighs as she takes Etci’s glass, who stays smirking to herself right up until her ears and body tense straight, her fur standing on end as Jerrie ever so lightly steps on the end of her tail while passing.

Across the table a small voice politely asks, “Please?” Vikki reaches out a small hand, white as the liquid staining the glass she holds. Her entire body is glossy white, her dress too, in contrast to the light green of Jerrie’s dress and the tight red of Etci’s top each offsetting their owner’s fur. But Vikki is all white, her quartz hair long and wavy, large ears pointed attentively, their bright pink insides focussed on you.

Not for the first time you worry your own simple blue dress is far too, well, simple.

Jerrie stops beside you, resting a warm hand on your shoulder, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to try some?”

“Um,” you try, “What is it?”

“Ha!” Etci’s golden eyes are alight with amusement. “It’s just fermented milk,” she raises up a mostly empty bottle of vodka, “with a little extra kick, for those who like it rough.” She smiles broadly, showing her fangs, and not for the first time you worry how much that excites you. Or maybe it’s just the look in those large golden eyes, the angular outer corners raising with her smile, slitted pupils dilating as she openly stares at you.

Jerrie’s hand squeezes your shoulder ever so slightly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, no matter what Etci says.”

You’re still looking at Etci as she runs her tongue from fang to fang. You clear your throat, “I… think I’d like to.”

You look up to see Jerrie smiling broadly. She’s very beautiful, not as scandalously attractive as Etci, but definitely more beautiful, the tips of her fangs a little less visible in the corners of her generous smile, the jade green of her eyes smiling reassuringly down at you. And her light green dress is very well cut to emphasise two parts of her you are pointedly not looking at.

Still smiling, she reaches past you for your glass, her dress brushing the top of your shoulder and making your whole body go stiff. You're still stiff, trying not to think about which part of her just softly rested on your shoulder, as you hear her crossing the dark living room to the open kitchen occupying one side, the opening of a fridge followed by the tinkle of glass bottles.

You look across at Etci, seeing her still smiling knowingly at you, making you aware of the heat in your cheeks. Are you blushing? Instead, you look over at Vikki, who's still sitting small in her chair, both hands fiddling with a silver pendant she’s pulled free of her dress. It’s small and slightly tarnished with age, making the tiniest clinking sounds as she moves the interior parts. Her ears are still focussed on you.

“So,” you ask, desperate to make conversation both as a distracting from the heat in your cheeks and from Etci’s gaze, and as a way to involve Vikki in the conversation. You point at her necklace, “is that a time turner?”

She looks up at you, pink eyes wide. Then she looks down, “No. I have a time turner necklace, but…” she trails off into a small nothing.

“So you’re a fan then?” You gently try to coax her out of her shell.

“HA!” Etci laughs hard enough to make you flinch, “Is Vikki a fan? She only read them all on the day of release. And when she was waiting in line for the last one and some guy started yelling out spoilers, fuck, the look on his face when she landed on him!”

“As I recall,” Jerrie adds, placing a tall glass full of what appears to be milk before you, “we both had to drag her off him.” She goes around the table, placing a glass before Etci which is immediately topped up with a disturbing amount of vodka. When she comes to Vikki she places the glass before her, then leans down to wrap her arms around her from behind, hugging her close.

Vikki’s voice is an emphatic whisper, “He was being selfish! Ruining it for everyone!”

Jerrie kisses the back of one large ear, “Yes, and all the other people waiting in line and the security guards somehow hadn’t seen a thing, so I think they were grateful.”

You stare at Vikki, at the shy little thing, struggling to imagine her flying through the air at someone. You clear your throat, “I would have been grateful too. Those people were the worst - I’m just glad I got my copy without any of them there.”

Vikki looks up wide eyed at you again, “You like it too?”

“I… did? I’m,” you shake your head, “I’m still figuring that out, trying to reconcile something precious from my childhood with the author’s recent… opinions about people like me.”

Vikki tilts her head to one side, “People like you?”

“Trans women.”

“Yeah, fuck that noise,” Etci announces beside you, leaning forward to pour vodka into your glass with a clink. “Thought that helps explain your deliciously complicated scent.”

You just stare, not even noticing your steadily rising drink, “Complicated scent?”

“Etci,” Jerrie interjects with a tired tone, “What did we say about respecting boundaries? For the drink as well as… whatever you’re doing.”

“Oh, come on,” she says, still staring into your eyes.

“Etci.”

She pouts and stops pouring, putting the bottle on the table without looking away from you. She leans even closer to whisper in your ear, “You smell very good by the way.”

Jerri squeezes Vikki goodbye, then comes around, tail flicking behind her. She shoos Etci back as she moves to replace your vodka’d glass with her own.

“It’s okay,” you interrupt her movement with a voice slightly higher pitched than you’d intended. You clear your throat, “I’m okay. I think I could use a drink.” You recall the amount of vodka added to the glass, “Or three.”

You’ve been pacing yourself all night, nervous after not drinking socially in so long. But now everyone else has gone either left, or gone to bed upstairs, and you’re barely even tipsy. Well, you look around, Etci’s eyes and Vikki’s ears staring at you, almost everyone.

Jerrie hesitantly takes her hand back as you take your drink, smelling it. You smell vodka.

“Here,” Jerrie sifts through the mess of empty bottles and forgotten drinks on the table, finding a clean straw and using it to stir your drink. “Try now.”

You smell again, and still smell vodka, but also the rich smell of milk, somehow smelling richer than you’d expect it too. You take a sip, tasting a mix of the cool burn of good vodka and the soothing warmth of very flavourful milk, followed by a creamy and every so slightly sour aftertaste. You take another sip.

“This is good!” you announce, “Really good! Why haven’t I ever seen this before?”

Jerrie sighs, “There aren’t many nekos in this country, so there isn’t really a market for it. Not while everyone thinks of it as a weird ‘cat’ drink anyway.” She squeezes your shoulder, smiling down at you again. “I’m glad you like it.”

It’s true you hadn’t seen many nekowere, and never had a chance to really sit down and share more than a few words with one. And now you're at a table with three of them all focussed on you, painfully aware of your ignorance. You have so many questions you want to ask, but fear all your questions are the ones everyone insensitively asks.

As their conversation continues on around you, Etci and Jerrie having firmly opposing views about which movie was the best one, both making room for Vikki’s quite but forceful interjections, you surreptitiously turn on your phone in your lap and tap a question into a new browser tab. You’ve just opened the first result and scrolled down a little when you realise the room’s gone quiet. You look up into Etci’s gleaming eyes.

“What’s that,” she demands, pointing at your phone with a sly smile, “Boring you are we?”

Jerrie’s tone is low with warning, “Etci.”

“No - not boring, I,” you stammer, lifting the phone, hesitating between handing it over and hiding it in your chest. Before you can decide Etci plucks it from your hand, pupils narrowing on the open page. She makes a strangled laugh, and reads aloud:

“What You Can’t Ask a Nekowere. Question 3: Are you in heat?”

“Etci!” Jerrie snatches the phone back lightning fast, turning it off and passing it back to you while still glaring at Etci. “Don’t be so rude!” Her tone softens instantly as she looks down at you, “I’m sure she’s just curious, right?”

You mutely nod.

Across the table, a tiny voice whispers something.

You look over to Vikki, not sure you’d heard it. Did she just whisper: ‘Yes’?

You definitely hear Etci on your other side groaning. “Gaaaahaaaa! It suuuucks!” She leans back in her chair with her glass at her lips, sculling the very alcohol contents before slamming the glass back to the table. She’s still leaning back in her chair as she turns to look sidelong at you. “Talking about questions you can’t ask, human hormone cycles also sync up, don’t they? Like if you have a group of women living together eventually their cycles all align, right?”

You feel Jerrie’s hand tighten on your shoulder.

“I’ve heard that,” you interject, trying to keep the peace, “but I wouldn’t know myself - different hardware.”

Jerrie leans down, glaring at Etci but saying with barely strained warmth to you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about this.”

“I don’t mind, really” you answer honestly. You’re not sure if it’s normal, but you personally enjoy talking about something that’s an enormous part of your life, something you’ve done a lot of research on as part of a very rewarding journey of self re-discovery. At least, you enjoy talking about it with well-meaning people, and while Etci straddles that line, you think she’s well-meaning, deep down.

She groans again as she leans back further on her chair, on the edge of overbalancing. “Well nekowere cycles do sync up, and it is not fun having a group of horny girls in a house trying not to kill each other over who ate who’s sandwich.”

“Etci,” Jerrie cautions, “Vikki already apologised for eating your sandwich… and for trying to take your throat out.”

Etci barrels on regardless, “And the only way to remedy it any time soon also comes with a very serious risk of being treated like a fetish. So no, you can’t ask a neko if they’re in heat, not if you expect the answer to be ‘yes and I’ll do it with anyone, where’s your car?’”

She looks sideline at you, grinning. “But,” she lowers her chair, her tail swishing behind her, “if you expect the answer to be ‘yes, interesting person I’ve gotten to know and quite like, and I would really really enjoy you riding me six ways to Sunday,” she leans forward, purring under her breath, “then maybe you can ask.”

“Oh,” you manage, “that sounds… nice.”

You groan inside, mentally kicking yourself over and over for saying the stupidest thing possible! You take another long swig of your drink, enjoying the frigid burn of the vodka.

Jerrie’s hand is still on your shoulder, thumb stroking thoughtfully. “Maybe we’d be more comfortable if we moved over to the couches?”

You hear movement, look across the table to see Vikki’s empty chair rocking to a stop. You look over to the three deep grey couches arranged around the large tv, the darkness and dark couch fabric only serving to highlight the white shape of Vikki sitting innocuously on one of them. She’s not sitting in the middle, but off to one side, looking forward but very clearly waiting, her ears pivoted over to you.

Jerrie leans down to ask, “Would you be more comfortable here?”

You swallow. After everything that was just said, two equally strong emotions war in your head: the excitement that someone - that three people may be propositioning you, and the terror that you’re reading a proposition into something by being a narrow-minded assuming idiot. But… Vikki is over there, sitting forward with her hands resting on her knees, radiating the fact she was waiting for you without making a sound.

“Sure,” you announce, seeing Vikki’s ears perk up. You start getting up, finding yourself sandwiched between Jerri and Etci still leaning forward, grinning up at you. She barely moves back as you get up, your crotch much closer to her smiling face than you’d meant to. You reach for your glass, see Jerrie is already holding it, shrug and make your way over to the couches.

It was just a change of seating, right?

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