The Cat's Meow

Story by Zaggy Norse on SoFurry

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#2 of Story Sketches

Sketch of a story concept with a cat who somehow ends up trapped by a whole lot of stallions, who begin using him to work off some sexual needs. The feline is quite happy to help out.

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The cat's wrists chafed unpleasantly against the restraints. He tried to lift his body higher to relieve the pressure, but as it was, his toes only barely touched the ground. The room itself was dark and smoky. He could barely make anything out beyond a few feet, but he could hear them...and smell them. The muggy air was thick with the scent of stallions. He couldn't even begin to guess how many. Was that shape that moved in the gloom beyond just one, or two...or ten? He tugged again at the chains, but they simply clinked together and did not let him move an inch.

"You'll be around a while, kitty," came a faceless voice out of the darkness. "Don't waste your time."

He recognised that voice: the stallion from the bar. The one that had spent altogether too long staring at him. The one that had clearly had only one thing on his mind.

A snort, and a second voice. "This ain't gonna work. There's one of him, and seven of us. Who's gonna wait until last? It sure as fuck isn't me."

Seven! The cat mewled, and his ass contracted of its own accord. Seven stallions...and him tied up. Oh no, no...this wasn't what he was after at all...

Behind him, a hand suddenly touched his shoulder, and the cat froze. He could feel the little hooves on the fingertips as it stroked down his back; yet another stallion. The hand kept going until it reached the base of his tail, and then a single finger probed under it, making the kitty mewl again. "Oh," the voice of the unseen explorer rumbled, "I don't think you gotta worry. This cat's tight as a virgin's cunt. I bet he'll still feel reeeeal good by the end."

The cat tried to push himself away from the exploratory fingering, but only managed to make himself swing slowly around. The horse came into view: a massive draft stallion, with muscles like steel and a dick as thick as the cat's entire leg. The feline goggled at it, not believing any creature could be so massively hung. The stallion smirked down at him. "Hey, kitty. You like horse dick? I got it all lubed up for you-"

"Hey, fuck you! I go first!" Yet another voice.

"Piss off, Nat!"

"I'll fucking piss on you, fuckhead!"

"How about you fuck me instead, bitch?"

"Guys!" The first voice barked again. "Fucking behave yourselves! Everyone gets a turn, alright? And we do this democratically. We're not fucking animals, are we? No. So: let the kitty choose. Come. Line up."

Various snickers and snorts accompanied that, but then they emerged from the depths of the room. Seven of them, as he'd guessed. Seven stallions, naked and gleaming with sweat or oil or precum, who could say. They flexed muscles big enough to crush rocks, and stroked dicks huge enough to split tree-trunks. Mustangs and drafts and Friesians and one young, gleaming white colt whose mane was painted in all the colours of the rainbow. They stood before the cat, smirking and laughing to one another and smelling like the very embodiment of sex. The cat couldn't help it. His tail rose, and his ass unclenched. The sheer masculine power arrayed before him was irresistible.

The mustang who had spoken first, spoke again. He was fondling the white colt's balls; the young stallion's eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, and his ivory cock dripped freely onto the floor. Two of the others were feeling one another up, their fat cocks frotting between their oiled bodies, and yet another two were openly fucking; one huge horse bent over while another drove his impossibly long cock into him with grunts of pleasurable effort.

"Well, kitty?" The mustang gripped his companion's testicles, making him gasp and whinny. "You decide. Which of us fucks you first?"