Adopting a Stray
"What the Hell, Terry?!" Terry's father stared in disbelief and shock at the scene before him. His son, a slender young tabby just three months from his eighteenth birthday, was stretching his shirt down, trying to hide his erect shaft. Although the cat's paw had been lightning fast, his father was sure that he'd seen two men on the screen before it changed to the desktop. With his shock fading into anger, he marched into his son's room, now only a few feet and his trembling son between him and the computer. He said nothing, but Terry knew what he wanted and moved aside. It took the boy a few tries to properly fasten his pants, as his fingers were so unsteady he could scarcely work the button on his jeans. The seconds felt like hours as Terry watched his father open his browser, then his history. The man only closed the browser and left with a disappointed expression that hurt Terry more than any words his father could have said to him.
He sat on the edge of his bed in silence. Every minute lasted an hour to him as he tried to figure out what would happen to him. A glance at his alarm clock told him it was nearly 2:48 A.M., nearly an hour and a half since his father burst into the room. He realized he should be getting sleep for school, but how could he? All he could do was hold his tail and hope that by some miracle his father didn't realize what he was looking at, or his dad would forgive him.
It wasn't long before these hopes were wiped away as he heard a knock at his door. Upon opening, he saw his father with an impenetrable glare. The older cat marched into the room, his son backed away and took his seat on the bed again as his father followed him, looming over Terry while he trembled on the bed. "I don't know what the hell you were thinking. But I know I didn't raise a faggot, and I won't have one under my roof. You made your mother cry, is that what you wanted? What did she ever do to deserve this? Now, I want you to promise me right now that you're going to stop all this...gay stuff right now." He said all this as if it was heroin, not porn he'd seen his son using.
Terry wrung is tail nervously, looking up at his Dad. "But...but I can't just stop being gay, Dad...It's-"
"It's the way you were born; I've heard that line before. Fine then, but I mean what I said. I didn't raise a fag, and I won't have one in my house. One way or another, there won't be one living here tomorrow." Terry's feeble voice was easily overshadowed by his father's firm, final statement. And with that, he left the smaller cat.
Of course, he did consider hiding his homosexuality until after his birthday and he could save up for an apartment. But he knew he couldn't. He had self-control, of course, but he also had pride and he knew he'd have to face his dad and tell him that he promised he wouldn't be gay anymore. Then even if he did, the paranoia was already there, and he'd under watch until he moved out anyway. In the end, he decided he'd have to just pack up what he could carry and find shelter wherever he could.
His watch now read 7:20 as he crammed a bag of clothes into his locker. There was another on his back and a third at his hip. In addition to his school stuff, he could only bring six outfits, soap, shampoo, toilet paper, and a couple small electronics, his phone and music player. Not that he could use those with no way to charge them. He stepped back from his locker and looked around. He saw only the other students, happily talking and laughing as if nothing had happened. Terry never felt more alone in his life, just yesterday he had been one of them, but just one night sent him into a different world. There was a weight all around him, crushing him, and staying with him all day.
Despite his lack of sleep the night before, he was wide awake all day, though not alert. He drifted through his day as if in a trance. His watch read 2:30, partially waking him from his passive state. He went to the bathroom to change into his blue shirt, black pants and Kroger hat before grabbing his bags and carrying them through the long walk to his job at the local grocery store.
As his watch turned 9:00 he sighed in relief and removed the uniform cap. Though he didn't feel like sleeping, the fact was that he'd been awake and active since six in the morning yesterday and his body was becoming weak and tired. For dinner, he got a sub at subway and a cup of water. He felt a little better after that, but it was short lived. One step outside and he realized something. He had nowhere to go.
He felt a cold wind and shivered. He should have brought a blanket, but too late now. A glance up at the sky revealed a troubling fact; the wind was an omen of a storm that was very close to falling. He tried to think of a shelter he could use, but a clap of thunder spurred him into action. He started down the sidewalk towards the richer part of town; he figured he'd be safest there. As he walked he replayed the scene from the previous night over and over in his head, exaggerating it each time. He jumped at another thunder clap and looked around. He was completely alone in the dark; he'd never been more scared in his life.
As the rain began to fall he started to run, looking for anywhere he could hide. In the corner of his eye, he saw a bird fly into a third story window, the attic of what seemed to be a decent, middle-class home. Feeling desperate, he elected to do the same. Strapping all of his bags on tightly, he started up the tree near the window, the bark was slick from the rain and he feared he would fall, but just barely made it to the ledge below the window, grabbing the frame to hold himself steady and very gently stepping inside and closing the window behind him
He sighed heavily and removed his bags before the rest of his soaking wet clothing. True he would normally feel ashamed, naked and soaking wet in a stranger's attic, but he still wasn't feeling much of anything. He waited a short time before changing, at least now he was warm and safe. Only, now there was no distraction. Now he really had to face that he no longer had his parents and that this might be his life forever now. He simply sat in a corner and started to cry, biting his lip gently so that he wouldn't make noise.
He could only cry a short time, however, before he heard a sound drifting up calmly from below. Someone was playing a piano and its notes were slowing his tears. The calming music surrounded and embraced terry and his tears started to dry. Reassured, he lay down, pulling a dusty blanket over him as the lullaby put him to rest.
It was 5:00 Am and Terry's phone rang, waking him up. In a daze, he flipped it open to see it was only the alarm then looked around the room. There was a moment of confusion, but then the memories flooded back, making his ears droop. He pulled himself up, still sleepy, having inhaled dust all night on the hard, wooden floor his sleep was low quality. He shuffled to a window to see whether it had stopped raining but his eyes were drawn instead to the canine outside. He was tall, wearing a smart dark suit. As he turned to get into his car, Terry could see his dashing features, he looked strong and firm, but he must have been the one playing last night, so he must also be gentle and kind like the music was. The sight of him caused a purr to rise from Terry that he couldn't silence. The pianist was in his thoughts the whole day.
By the time he got home, he had his diary half-filled with drawings and stories of him, the pianist served as a distraction from Terry's homelessness and trouble. When the playing began that night, the drawings evolved, now the pianist, whose mailbox identified his surname as Prowers, was holding Terry in the drawings. A week and a half went by and the drawings had gotten to a pornographic stage. After all, Terry was still a teenage boy, and he wasn't too bad at drawing.
Terry had gotten mostly used to his new life until one day he came back to the attic to find all his things were gone. His clothes, toiletries, the diary... All he could find was a note where his bed used to be; "come downstairs, I promise you won't be hurt." Whether the promise had been included or not, he would have complied. He felt a mix of anxiety and joy, finally he would meet the man he so adored, but that man may also kick him back out in the streets.
The house was full of stuff, much like the attic, much of it seemed old and well at home here. Terry didn't have to look far for Prowers; he was sitting at the dinner table, wearing a white, buttoned shirt and jeans. There was a delicious looking breakfast on the table, and a very familiar notebook that made Terry blush at the sight. Prowers's voice was cool and calm, gentle but also firm. "Ah, Terry. Sorry to disturb you, but I found your...nest. It's not exactly legal to squat, especially in a house with someone living inside."
Terry looked down and to the side in shame. "I'm so sorry, I just-"
Terry was stopped by a gentle finger on his lips. "You were lost and scared. But you carried on, you're very brave, Terry." That voice comforted him the way only his music could before. However, even that was just barely enough to give him the confidence to ask the obvious question.
"So...are you going to throw me out?" The first word was like pushing a boulder, but the rest flowed like an avalanche, tumbling out of his mouth in a jumble. He closed his eyes and the couple seconds that passed felt like minutes until he heard a gentle chuckle.
"How could I throw out such a cute little intruder? Here, we'll discuss rules after dinner. Eat as much as you like while I just do some reading." Terry sat at the table and began to take some of the food for himself, he hadn't had a home cooked meal in weeks. As he bit into a nice bite of turkey, Prowers spoke up again, with the diary open in front of him as he began to read. "*I had another fantasy of that man today. It was pretty good, so I thought I'd write it down. I heard a familiar click as my leash was attached. He led me down to his room and pulled me down to kneel in front of a bench. I positioned my ankles into the cuffs fixed to the floor, then my wrists in the others and Master promptly shut them all" Prowers smirked as Terry started to shake in embarrassment, hearing his own story read aloud. "My leash was removed and replaced with a short bungee cord, holding my face close to the bench. Master sat and all I could see now was his bulging crotch. I started to take the zipper of his jeans in my teeth when I heard his voice, making me freeze in my tracks. 'Now, now kitten. Where are your manners?' I pulled back and looked up pleadingly, the bungee putting strain on my neck
'Master Prowers, may kitten have the honor and pleasure of your cock in his mouth? Please, Master?' I pleaded with my most lovable face."
Prowers smirked at the mortified Terry, still trying to eat. "My my, you really are a naughty little pervert, aren't you? You even used my name too... You know, I've wanted a pet. And it does seem you have an interest. oh, are you done?" Prowers looked at Terry's empty plate.
"Alright, to the rules then. First, you can't stay in the attic. There's private stuff up there. Second; you're free to stay and eat, but I will need rent you can pay in cash and/or chores. Third; hygiene, you're free to use my shower and laundry machines, so please do. That's about it fortenant rules...unless you'd rather be a pet?" Terry's face lit up, both with joy for staying, but also a deep blush. "Ah, I see you like that idea. We'll talk when I know you better." Prowers stood and yawned "You may call me Lucius, for now at least. Please, clean the dishes when you've finished. I've moved the blanket you've been using to the sofa." Lucius left then, leaving Terry speechless, but joyful. In half an hour he lay down on the sofa and drifted into a satisfied sleep.
* A page from Terry's journal, the rest of what Lucius was reading aloud
Master chuckled "how could I say no to a face like that? Of course you may." Enthusiastically, I grabbed Master's zipper in my teeth and pulled it down. Then I grabbed the fabric around the button and worked that loose as well. Leaving me face to face with Master's boxers and intoxicating scent. Hesitantly, I pulled back the boxers, letting Master's long, hard member free. "Don't be shy kitten, go on" Master coaxed me on as I began to lick over the surface. Up to the tip from the base and then down the other side. I slid my tongue back up to wrap it around his already dripping tip before I wrapped my mouth around it. Quaking in desire I was pulled by the bungee, the tip poking my throat. I started to bob my head, taking his cock in long smooth movements. The bungee cord ran out of slack about half way op his shaft, so I had to stretch it each time I licked and sucked on Master's tip. Master put a hand between my ears and pet me softly as the pull towards his crotch began to feel natural.
Master growled approvingly, gripping my head by my hair. "Oh, yes... good boy." Master pulled his shaft free from my lips and stood up. "Now comes the fun part. I hope you're ready." He let his pants drop completely and moved the bench aside, revealing the track that the cuffs holding me were attached to. Master then took hold of my bungee leash and pulled it towards the wall, making follow him like a child's pull toy. When I reached the wall, he bent over to detach my wrist cuffs from the floor and instead attach them to the wall above my head. I felt my legs spread as the ankle cuffs were separated and locked in place.
"Now, one last thing and we're all ready." Master retrieved a tennis ball and held it to my muzzle "That is to stay between your muzzle and the wall. If you let it drop, or I find you held it with your lips or teeth, well...no cumming for you." I whimpered, pressing the ball to the wall as I felt Master's shaft press against my hole. In seconds, he was spreading me open, making my back arch and a soft moan escape my lips. As Master hilted, I felt is paw grip my throbbing member, making me quiver as he began to rub it in time with his pounding thrusts. I moaned out for Master's hammering, begging for more. Soon I was thrusting too, back onto his invading shaft, then forward into his paw. But lost in ecstasy, I let the ball hit the ground. I could only hope master didn't notice as he pounded my harder and harder until he filled me with his seed. I was so close, just a few more thrusts and- "Was it good for you?" Master let go and pulled out, leaving me just a hair away from my climax.
I whimpered for him to forgive me, but "No, you were a bad boy and let the ball fall when I told you not to. Oh and..." Master dug around the drawer beside his bed for a moment before retrieving a large pink ring. "This is for trying to get out of a punishment." He twisted the ring and I heard a buzz. "This should keep you right at the edge." He slid it onto my begging shaft, the mere act of that nearly granted my release, but only made the torture worse. "I'll be back to let you out when your punishment is over." And with that, Master left, leaving me painfully horny and close to release.