Cat Pervert Meme

My mom is a famous perfumer who's well-known in town. But her perfumes are charged per session. One session costs 200 thousand dollars. She only takes in ten customers per month, too. Those who have used the perfumes my mom has concocted will be enveloped by the perfumes' unique fragrance that leaves an unforgettable impression on those who have smelled it. In fact, the fragrance is capable of covering up the customers' body odor, no matter how strong it is. One session will leave the customers with enough fragrance that lasts for a month. Countless celebrities and rich women specifically travel to this town just to frequent my mom's business. Everyone sings praises about my mom, claiming that she's the mistress of all fragrances who's here to bless humanity with her gift. But I know that my mom isn't as amazing as everyone thinks she is. The only reason why her business is booming like this is all thanks to the "thing" that she keeps locked up in that room…

I could always hear strange noises coming from the room next to me. A cacophony of people having intercourse. The noise kept me awake all night. But the strange thing was, he lives alone.

After my breakup, my best friend encouraged me to join a cycling club. I quickly came to realize that this was no ordinary cycling group. To my shock, I stumbled upon my friend, caught up in a moment on her bike, doing something that went far beyond anything I'd anticipated. Surprisingly, instead of running away, a thrill of anticipation flickered within me. Because, truthfully… I'd been waiting for a moment like this for a long time.

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

I was lying in bed, scrolling on my phone with my pregnant belly heavy in front of me, when a local news alert popped up. 'Wife killed in suburban murder case. Husband stabbed her to death after she refused intimacy during pregnancy.' I clicked it open, only to realize the article was dated for tomorrow. And the killer's name? My husband's. At first, I thought it was some sick prank or a glitch on the site. But then I saw the photo attached to the piece: our wedding picture. My face had been completely blurred out. The moment my heart seized, the bedroom door creaked open. My husband stood there, licking his lips, his smile so chilling it made my blood run cold. "Honey, I want you tonight."

As I lay limp in the man’s arms, my face flushed red. I could not help but let his oil-covered hands move over my body. “No… That tickles…” I whined and shuddered because the oil felt hot on my skin. His hands tightened around my thighs as he leaned in and whispered in my ears, “Be good, Claudia. Repeater students face a lot of pressure. Spread your legs. I’ll help you relieve your stress.”

“Sir, I beg you to let me go! Don’t touch me! No!” My voice broke into sobs. The stranger forced me into an uncomfortable position. I wanted to fight back, but he was too strong. Out of shame and confusion, I did everything I could to free myself from his grasp. However, the more I fought back, the more unsettled I became. Eventually, I lost my rationality.

My heart raced wildly as he leaned in, his warm breath brushing my ear. "The next time I see you kiss anyone else..." he whispered, his voice dark and lethal, " I'll make sure these pretty lips of yours are stitched shut." He wasn't supposed to care. I wasn't supposed to matter. But one kiss was all it took to turn control into obsession. I'm bound to him by a dangerous deal, living on the edge of fear and desire, never quite sure where the line is, or if it ever existed at all. Mr. Hanson is cold, powerful, and terrifyingly possessive. He thrives on control, and he hates how I slip through his fingers no matter how tightly he grips me. Every touch feels like a warning. Every breath between us feels like a threat. As fear, power, and longing blur into something I no longer recognize, I'm forced to decide how far I'm willing to go to survive a man who doesn't just want my obedience. He wants my silence. My loyalty. My heart. Because with him, love isn't gentle. It's a weapon.

" EVEN IF YOU ARE MARRIED TO ANOTHER MAN. EVEN IF YOU GAVE BIRTH TO ANOTHER MAN'S CHILD. I DON'T CARE. EVEN ANYTHING COMES IN BETWEEN OUR LIFE AND DISTURBS US. I DON'T CARE. I WILL JUST DESTROY IT WHOEVER MAY BE IT. THOSE WHO DESTROY OUR HAPPINESS WILL MEET THE HELL. YOU ARE MEANT TO BE MINE, BABY GIRL. AND I MEANT TO BE YOURS." he roars as he looks at his baby girl whose hands were handcuffed. " L-leave me. I j-just don't know who are you." the woman sobs. "DON'T KNOW WHO AM I. YOU FORGOT OUR TWO YEARS OF LOVE. YOU MADE ME SEARCH FOR YOU FOR FOUR YEARS LIKE A PSYCHO. YOU STILL DON'T KNOW WHO AM I " he roars as he pushes everything to the ground. He stops and looks at his baby girl who got scared by his action. He relaxes and bends down and caresses her. " HEREAFTER WE CAN LIVE OUR LIFE TOGETHER. I KILLED EVERYONE WHO PLANNED TO DESTROY OUR HAPPINESS. IT'S JUST YOU AND ME" He speaks as softly as he can. But she avoids him and his touch. Before he loses his temper. He heads out of the room.

My grandfather, Terry Sims, suffered from bipolar disorder and was prone to anger and mood swings. My mother, Catherine, was his only chill pill. On the day they were hunted down by enemies, my mom went into early labor and lost her life in an attempt to save him. Devastated, my grandfather could not see a way out of his disorder and poured all his love into me. He would pull out the tongues of those who mocked me and fed them to the dogs. The families of those who hurt me would meet their end. It was known to the people of Mistvale that the granddaughter of Terry Sims was untouchable. Due to my congenital heart disease, he reluctantly sent me abroad for medical treatment. After my surgery, I rushed back to his side for his birthday, thinking of giving him a surprise. However, I was mistaken for a gold digger by a carer and locked in the basement. “Of all the things you can do for your age, you throw yourself at men. Since your parents won’t restrain your behavior, I’ll have to do it for them.” She pulled out my tongue, dumped acid all over me, and dug out my snewly transplanted heart to give as a birthday gift to my grandfather, who had been waiting for my return. “Mr. Sims, the skank tried to impersonate Ms. Sims, but I got everything sorted out for you.”