Would it feel good if she rubbed it?
Bored and curious, she slid her hand down her flat belly and let her fingers find her slit. Just that initial touch was enough to make her purr, telling her that she was on to something good. She traced the petals of her virgin flower with her fingertips, feeling that gentle touch reverberate through her lower body. It was like a tickle, one that didn’t make her laugh but instead made her feel warm. She did this for a couple minutes, letting herself get used to the sensation. Her breath fluttering, she pushed it further and moved her finger between the lips, stroking the pink interior. She could feel herself becoming wet, her body reacting to the stimulation.
She thought back to what had been done to her in the shower and she slid her fingers into her velvet sleeve and stirred them, whining in bliss. She began moving them back and forth, her fingers sliding effortlessly through her. Her fluttering breaths became deep pants, with her muscles expanding and contracting and making her writhe and stretch.
She couldn’t help it; she needed more. She inserted her index finger as well, while her left hand struggled to find something to grab onto. At first, she clutched her shoulder, then her arm, but at last settled by grasping her breast. She experimentally gave her nipple a soft pinch and gasped, feeling as if a bolt of lightning was stretching between the soft nub and her slit. Her whole body was becoming tense and hyper, like Restless Leg Syndrome. She started arching her back and then curling up, her voice beginning to slip free between her frantic pants.
Waves of euphoria, indescribable to her innocent soul, submerged her body in a hot bath while billions of tiny massage therapists gave every muscle a deep rubdown. Her voice slipped free, a single moan echoing through the house, while she could feel drops of her arousal splattering against her palm. Soon, the bliss ended, and she was left gasping for air with her chest heaving. Looks like she found something to occupy her time.
I got out of my car and sighed in happiness. This had been a long day and work had been especially rough. I climbed up the front steps and unlocked my door, but stopped when a noise reached my ears. It sounded like a cat crying out, as if in a fight. My heartbeat skyrocketing in fear, I wrenched open the door and my jaw hung slack.
With the living room couch directly in line with the front door, I found myself staring at Momo’s peachy ass, raised in the air. Her tail had taken the shape of a question mark, flipping back and forth, and between her legs, her fingers were working frantically.
“ROWR!”
Her face pressed down against the couch, Momo cried out in happiness the way only a cat could, and from her pussy, a splash of clear fluid soaked her hand. I stood in shock, unable to believe what I had just seen. After everything I had been tempted with, why was I now forced to witness this? Did she even realize how hard she was making this for me?!
Noticing me standing there, Momo turned around and smiled, feeling no shame for what I had just seen her do. “Hi, Master! Momo had a fun day and learned a new trick! And look! Momo has been doing it so long that her fingers are wrinkly!”
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t answer.
“Huh? Master? Is something wrong?”
Finally, I released a scream of frustration and sprinted past her, zooming into the bathroom and locking the door behind me. Just like Momo, I decided to have my own wank-athon.
Dear vetquestions.com, my cat recently transformed into a human-feline hybrid and now she won’t stop masturbating. Please help.
I was tempted to put it online, I really was. After a long day of work, I had arrived home, hoping to have a peaceful evening. Instead, I found myself sitting on my couch, Momo’s head on my lap, and her hands busy. I had immediately told her to stop, but she would not obey. Having transformed into a person, her obedience was well beyond a normal cat’s, but she still only listened to about half the things I told her to do.
It had now almost become a game. I would tell her to stop flicking her bean, and for a few minutes, she would. Then she would slowly resume, seeing how long she could keep it going before I again told her to stop. Was she doing it just to annoy me?
“Momo, enough,” I said, taking a rolled-up newspaper and swatting her on the head.
“But it’s so much fun!”
“I don’t care, I don’t want you to do it around me. I don’t do it around you, do I?”
“Huh? You do it too?”
Oh crap.
A wide smile on her face, Momo rolled over and bolted up onto her hands and knees. “That’s great! Master and Momo can do it together! Momo can even help you and you can help Momo, just like when we were in the shower!”
“No! We absolutely cannot do it together!”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong.”
Her ears drooped. “Why is it wrong?”
“Because you’re my cat. Men aren’t supposed to do that kind of thing with their cat. You may be bigger now, but it’s still wrong. Besides, you don’t understand what you’re doing or what you’re asking.”
She leaned forward, her hands on my thighs, the way she used to when I had a plate of food in my lap, but this time, her attention was focused on me, our faces inches apart.
“Then explain it so that Momo can understand. Momo just wants to play with Master.”
A part of me did want to explain it. A part of me did want to do those things with Momo. But there was a line that we could not cross, and if we did, we could never go back. Momo might not understand sex, but I knew she would never again see me the same way, nor would I see her. Momo was an innocent creature, a living miracle, and I didn’t want to corrupt her.
I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her back. “I’m going to get dinner started.”
Like her breakfast, Momo ate her dinner out of her food bowl on the floor, and afterward, we waited for it to get dark enough to go to the park. It was a quiet evening walk, Momo staying by my side rather than roaming around me. Walking my cat… that still stands out to me as being one of the weirdest aspects of this whole situation.
I soon began to wonder if Momo was mad at me and giving me the silent treatment. She walked next to me at the park but didn’t say anything, and at home, she had her head in my lap, but didn’t purr when I rubbed her ears. Later that night, I was in bed, reading the news on my phone. I heard Momo in the bathroom spit out a mouthful of foam. Good girl, brushing her teeth without asking. She came out of the bathroom, rubbing her wet hair with a towel to dry off from the shower she had just taken.
She circled to the other side of the bed and climbed under the covers, but didn’t cuddle up with me the way she usually would.
“Goodnight, Momo,” I said, hoping for some kind of response.
I looked at her back, enduring the silent seconds trudging by.
“Goodnight, Master,” she murmured before pulling the blanket over her head.
“Master.”
I woke up with a snort, feeling Momo lying on my chest. It was still dark out, but my eyes had adjusted. Momo sat up, straddling my lap with her eyes catching the dim light like gems.
“Momo? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Momo wants to play with Master.”
I dropped my head back. How like a cat to suddenly want to run around the house at 3:00 in the morning.
“Momo, it’s too late for that. Go to sleep. We’ll play tomorrow.”
“Master doesn’t need to worry about Momo.”
My eyes, which I had closed in resignation, opened back up and I looked at her. “What?”
“Master doesn’t need to worry about Momo. Momo will be fine with whatever Master wants. Momo knows Master wants to play, but doesn’t know why he won’t. Momo wants Master to be happy.”
She then leaned down, her obsidian hair slipping across my chest like paint brushes, and her lips met mine. The kiss lasted only for a few moments before she sat back up.
“Where did you learn to do that?”
“Momo always watches TV with Master. Isn’t that something that people do when they love each other?”
She then grasped my hand and placed it on her breast. It felt so warm, almost like a giant ember, but felt as smooth and soft as a water balloon.
“Master, please touch Momo. And let Momo touch Master.” Her other hand fell to my boxers, and she pulled them away to reveal my erect cock. “Momo knows it feels good for Master when his thing is touched.” She then rubbed her slit, already wet with arousal. “And it feels really good when Master touches Momo here. There might be a way we can both feel really good.”
She raised herself up, still keeping one of my hands on her breast while using her free hand to stand my cock vertical. The head met her lips, about to enter her.
“Momo, stop. I’m your Master and I’m telling you to stop.”
“No, Momo is going to make Master feel good.”
I could have stopped her then, I should have stopped her then. With my free arm, I could have pushed her off me, but I didn’t. I simply released my held breath as Momo lowered herself down, allowing me to penetrate her.
“ROWR!”
She winced from the insertion and I could feel her virgin blood running down my balls.
“Damn it, that’s why I wanted you to stop. It hurts, doesn’t it?”
She stubbornly shook her head as stinging tears budded from her eyes. She raised herself back up and then dropped down, and this time, her eyelids fluttered from the feeling of my manhood inside her. She started to move, the soreness of her deflowering now disappearing. She smiled, getting the hang of what she was doing and bobbing on my cock. It had been a long time since I had been with a woman, and Momo’s valley felt spectacular, soft and warm, and oh so wet. I watched her bounce, her full breasts heaving every time she raised her body, her ears twitching with every stir of my cock, her tail writhing like a snake having a seizure. Rather than a moan, she was releasing a strange noise, that sort of feline cry you’d normally hear when they’re in a fight or getting manhandled at the vet, that sort of mix between a hiss and a meow.
“Master, this feels so good! Your thing is so deep inside Momo! It’s driving Momo crazy!”
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