Cat Silly Novels & Stories

Caturix rumbles. I had no idea that they could switch like that without shifting. I have to say that Caturix is one imposing Lycan. He must be at least 8’ tall and he is all muscle. His fur is as black as night. I wanted to pet him, but during an attack is not the time for shit like that. I run my hand through his hair, and I swear he starts to purr like a damn cat. I nearly ask him if he is purring, but I do not think he would appreciate being compared to a cat. “Aww you are purring.” I coo.

Riley muttered, folding her arms. Suddenly, Armani stepped forward. “Today, my brothers and I will be sending some Wild Cats on a mission,” he announced. Riley’s eyes lit up as she listened closely. “This mission isn’t particularly difficult,” Armani continued. “So the Wild Cats selected will be those ranked from the bottom—numbers one hundred to ninety.” Riley smiled. “I’m ranked one hundred,” she said a little too loudly. “So I’ll be going.” The hall went silent. Everyone turned to stare at her—most of them glaring, confused by her obvious excitement.

I gauge the amount of time I want to spend in each area then explore. The first level is more pop and hip hop, but it has a fun, lively vibe. I dance to several songs and an unsuspecting mountain lion shifter hits on me. “I’m not something you want to handle, buddy,” I whisper. “I’m far more lethal than anyone here would suspect, so don’t try anything.” “I heard Kirsune are docile and love to be dominated,” he purrs against my neck. “You heard wrong. I only like to be dominated by worthy men and I give as good as I get,” I snarl as I swiftly grab his balls and twist them then turn to face him, still holding them.

Three part-time jobs a day, sixteen-hour shifts, nonstop. Word spread among my coursemates: Scarlett had gone mad, struck by a disease that would kill her if she were without cats. I didn't care. All I wanted was to protect my two precious cats. Over time, I grew accustomed to this punishing lifestyle. Then, Luna became pregnant—and gave birth to a little snow-white bundle. I named the kitten Snowy. The true little demon had arrived. … I had never seen a cat so white. So pure that even snow seemed dull in comparison.

She bites her lower lip— white teeth sinking into red flesh— then turns, smiling at the bartender. "Whisky please. Rocks." Her gaze returns to me, and she raises her eyebrows. "Make that two," I say, not leaving her gaze. A minute later he places the drinks in front of us, her hand immediately reaching out to bring it to her lips. "Katherine," she says after taking a slow sip, "but my friends call me Kat." "Adam, but everyone calls me Emilio." "I think I'll stick with Adam," she replies haughtily, daring me to tell her otherwise. I lean in closer to her, trailing her body with my eyes again. I can't stop looking at her legs. She notices, and again raises an eyebrow.

“Breathe. You're hardly a pet without a collar. Be on your best manners, Kitten, and I won't tug too hard.” The dread and terror on her face is satisfying to watch, as I lift her from the floor into my arms, heading out of the room. In my pants, my cock was long and hard against my thigh, with a very visible bulge that is sure to land on the cover of gossip blogs and magazines after tonight.

I jerk up, narrowing my eyes and pursing my lips. “It’s on,” I warn them and dive in. * I type a reply only to delete it. Biting my lip, I shift my eyes from my computer to Orange Cat, a cleverly named orange tabby, I know. He’s one of the three barn cats Grandpa has let inside. We also have Black Cat, who is—you guessed it—black. And Tabby, a grey tabby cat. Creativity is obviously not Grandpa’s strong point. Nearly half an hour has passed and I still haven’t replied to my sister’s email. I don’t know what to say. My heart skips a beat in my chest butterflies swarm in my stomach. Closing my eyes, I flop back on my bed, mulling everything over.

She curls up like a contented baby, comfortably swishing her tail as he rubs her tummy. What a traitor! She could at least hiss at him or something. How did I end up with the only docile cat in existence? “Well, when I moved to America I was getting used to a lot of phrases and I kept hearing people say ‘Ily’ this and ‘Ily’ that which just sounded weird. Then I realised it was short for 'I Love You', which made it sound dumber, but when I got her as a kitten I thought Ily sounded like such a cute name,” I say cheerfully.

Cat panted, trying to get closer to his hand at her breast. Cat curved her spine and pushed her breast into his hand, crying out “Eric!”

The fuck. Janice’s face instantly lit up. “Oh! Look!” She crouched down, making soft noises. What was happening right now? The cat hesitated, staring back at her like it was trying to figure out something, then trotted over confidently. No. No. And fucking no. I took several steps back. “Careful, darling! Those things are feral… they carry diseases and they scratch.” She looked up at me, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Calder… are you scared of a little cat?”