Catdog Novels & Stories

~Caspian~ The moment Charlotte walked into Alpha Justin's office, the world around me ceased to exist. Her presence consumed my senses, and nothing else seemed to matter. Charlotte. The name echoed in my mind like a beautiful melody; her image burned into my thoughts. Brown hair cascaded her shoulders, framing a face that held an enchanting allure. But it was her eyes – those captivating cat-like eyes – that ensnared me entirely. In that instant, I felt as if I were drowning in a sea of emotions, and my heart raced uncontrollably.

Standing in front of her was a husky wearing a pink skirt with a flamboyant mixture of makeup on its face, not forgetting its freshly painted bright red nails. "Woof! Woof!" yelped Kater as it rolled incessantly on the carpet, as if it was angrily complaining about a certain someone. Hilda rubbed its head and comforted it, "What's wrong? Did something happen that pissed you off badly?" Kater continued its volley of complaints to her. Damn it! Take your own child back! I'm not entertaining her anymore! Alas, every protest it made sounded nothing more than barks to Hilda. Hilda knew exactly how to calm Kater down. She offered it a handful of kibbles, and it stopped at once. Nevertheless, Kater

“What’s her name?” Addy smiles, “that is Molly.” They both stop as they see the black cat run across the coffee table from one window to the other. Giggling she points at him, “that is Dutch. The two white Siamese, the big one is Chong and the smaller one is Taz. Then there brown tabby white Siamese is Quinn, she is a shy sweet hearted cat. Manuel looks at the bag she brought over, “wow is the whole thing full?” He asks, the bag was the size of a medium backpack.

The tips of my ears burned. A shiver ran down to my tailbone, and a fluffy wolf tail threatened to manifest right then and there. Just then, a new notification popped up at the top of the screen. Rylan Blackthorn just posted a new Tweet. My finger shook as I tapped it. The message was brief: Mischievous kitten. The accompanying image shows a majestic Maine Coon cat, its fur identical to my wolf-like coat, resting its fluffy head affectionately on a slender, pale hand.

‘Here, kitty kitty. The little creature butted its head against my fingers, purring like a miniature engine. ‘He still needs a name,’ Lochlan said, crouching beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. ‘You should choose one.’ I considered the fluffy body, the round belly, the general air of edible softness. ‘He’s all plump and doughy, with that little white tummy… Let’s call him Custard. Like a custard bun.’ Lochlan was silent for a long moment.

So pure that even snow seemed dull in comparison. By the first day, Snowy opened his eyes. On day two, he started walking. And on day three, he could open doors, shred the milk box with his razor-sharp teeth, and drink all the fresh milk in the building. Leo and Luna were satisfied with raw food. Not Snowy. He only ate live prey. He drove the neighborhood's escaped hamsters to extinction, snapped up fish straight from hooks, and even hunted a neighbor's pet rabbit. My role as "cat mama" escalated—I was now the posthumous disaster manager: cleaning up after carnage, apologizing to neighbors, begging forgiveness, and still having to earn money.

Cat was wide-eyed and silent as she listened to me. Her breathing had increased and I could feel her hard cock grinding back against mine. When she finally was able to speak, she breathed out, "This kitten might just be filled up with her man's hot cum by the time they are both satisfied."

I ditch the shirt and socks and slide naked under the covers, sprawling back like a king who’s been temporarily banished from his throne. “Mew.” A puffed-up black furball is glaring at me from the pillow, green eyes full of judgment and betrayal. “Sorry, pal,” I mutter, scooping Doom up and tucking him against my chest. I flip on the TV. Animal Planet. And as if sitting here rock-hard, waiting for a woman to shave her legs, clearly isn’t cruel enough on its own, they show the mating ritual of … cats. Doom sits upright, suddenly very invested, following every word the narrator is saying.

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Goodness, fine!" I helped her stand and she brushed herself off. She glared at all the dogs before lifting her hand. "Sit!" Then, six butts hit the ground. The dogs' tails thudded against the earth and saliva dripped to the grass from panting mouths. She pointed at each one of the dogs and spoke their names, I forgot them all as soon as she spoke them. Except one. Daisy was this huge Bernese Mountain dog with thick fur and a huge loving smile. I already knew she was going to be my favorite. I didn't remember the others, but I knew the Great Dane was Eliza's favorite.

Pitiful, even Alpha’s needed a leader to ground them in place. She grew tired of their bickering quickly and allowed her canines to descend as her vocal cords twisted. She let out a long, guttural roar as they each quietened down and looked to her with wide eyes as silence descended once again. “Gentlemen, you remember my daughter,”