Cloud Tears - Part 1

Story by AiverNim on SoFurry

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#4 of Tales from Vemiria

A young kitten tries to find a escape from his abusive father.

**

So, I'm trying a new writing style. Let's see how that came out. If it is your first time with the Tales from Vemiria argumentative arch, it wouldn't hurt to read The Bridge first. If you're lazy though, here's a small summary:

Alberins = Fennecs

Shauv'n = Felines with an unhealthy taste for blood.

Vemiria = The city state where rests the throne of the Alberin kingdom.

I know you came here to fap, so I'll give you a heads up: the only fapable part is at the beginning. Do whatever you must with that information. No, seriously, read the whole story.

As always, any critics, comments, conjectures, YOU CAN SHOVE 'EM RIGHT UP YOUR...-- No! No! That's not what I meant!--... They'll all be highly appreciated. --much better.

**


I can barely remember my life before my family came to Vemiria. But then, I was just three years old when we moved. In those times the city-state had become the land of opportunities. Alberins had just won the North Patch war, but at what cost. By the end of it, Vemiria hadn't enough soldiers to retaliate against Mavlin. They didn't even have enough males to work the corn fields. So, to keep the city from falling into bankrupt, the king got to a peaceful arrangement. For the first time in Vemiria's history, Shauv'n commoners were allowed to establish into it. Those who were against the Numvius scam came in hordes to escape the High Council's corrupted government. And my family was among them.

Saying I was a good son would be lying. Since being a little kitten I always had a weakness for shiny things, specially gold ones. And that led to very embarrassing moments for my parents. Yes, I am a small thief, pickpocket. And at this point I need to remark that I've never been caught stealing. But eventually, mom would find my secret stash of shiny trophies, or I would simply succumb to the temptation of wearing them. It was a harmless hobby, I've never stole from someone who couldn't afford replacing what I took. And with time, my hobby became a very profitable business.

I won't bother you with the sad "poor boy stealing not to starve" crap. No, I don't do it because I don't have a choice. I do it for the excitement, as a sport, as a escape from my life. My family has always been well endowed, not rich, but with enough money not to work our asses off. Half the day I bore my self attending dad's grocery store. And in the night, well... that's when the fun happens.

Don't let my openness foul you. I'm rather shy, apart from my sneaky "pocket inspection". I think I've never quite fitted in, being the middle child and all. Life inside the house was difficult, my father hated me for being gay, and my brothers were no different. Coming out was the worst decision I've taken. I was never able to get intimate with my boyfriends. They didn't last a week. Dad would eventually find out and beat them. At some point, guys just started staying away from me. They feared the butcher.

And how not to fear him? I myself often find hard to explain all the bruises he leaves on my body, each time I "embarrass him with my sickness".

But what he did to them was far worse. Last one, he teared his pants down, shove a meat-hook deep up his tailhole, making him scream while he wiggled it, and then sent him running bare-assed back home.

Those nights I cried myself to sleep. By my fault, yet another guy had to suffer. It was though, and my older brother's attitude didn't help, he would just pass by and say "Oh, look! It's raining again in faggot land!".

I miss mom, she used to keep aggressions at bay. But since the plague took her from us, hostility has done nothing but increase towards me. It's hard living when your own blood loathes you, when your father says things like "If you're going out tonight, don't forget to leave your last name at the door".

So being shy, introvert, and denied the opportunity to be with someone, the opportunity to love freely. Can you blame me for trying to find some thrill in my life? For crawling something that makes my heart pump faster, something... to fill the void?

Now, philosophy is not my thing, but I like to think that to compensate the valuable things missing in my life, I make other people's valuables go missing.

Anyway, as I said before, stealing had become a really profitable activity. I've been saving. I need maybe a couple of months, or one big hit and I will have enough money to leave the house, take a sabbatical year and travel the world. A year to find myself, who I am.

Perhaps I'll never come back home, dad's getting too violent and walking without hunching is presenting a real challenge. My stomach is just too cramped from the repeated beatings, it feels like if I had eaten glass shards, and there's a sharp sting in my ribs every time I try to straighten my back. Every time I breath. I bitterly laugh at the irony: thanks to his abuse, I can't get straight. I know mom's death has affected him, but lately anything seems like a good excuse to strike me.

I confronted him about this a week ago, after dinner.

"Dad, I'm eighteen. You can't tell me with whom to be with. I'm an adult!" I protested. "As long as you live in MY house, I sure can!" he slammed his fist on the dinner table. "If I find you fooling around with a male again, I'll make sure your genes do not keep flowing through this family!" He said, crushing a pair of nuts with his bare hands to illustrate his intentions. That assertion kept me from going out for several days. But not tonight.

I chose to go to the bar and drown both the physical and emotional pain in ale. Following my father's advice, I leave my last name behind. My first's is pretty enough by itself: Nimbus.

You wouldn't think of a more suitable one if you saw me. My soft silver fur runs down the center of my head and torso, and gets surrounded by a steel-blue pattern that darkens in my forehead and vanish back to gray in my paws, giving them a natural glove effect that matches the one in my foot paws. My hair is short, white-silvered and a bit messy. Fluffier on the tip, my tail is covered with three thick rings of silver on an overall steel-blue landscape. I have a small frame and big purple eyes (thunder-colored, I call them) that make me look younger than I am.

Luckily, the bar is just a few blocks down the street. Its a cold night, and I see my foggy breath as I blow some heat to my paws. I shrug and keep walking until I'm finally before the thick wooden door. Ahhh... 'The Fencing', a gentleman's only tavern. Once inside, the damp air impregnated in the scent of dozens of musky bodies and a hint of freshly brewed beer, makes my nose tickle.

As I sit on the bar, a stab-like sensation jabs my right ribs and, suddenly, the original beer idea looses it's appeal. I end up ordering rum instead. I need my senses off. Its strong and not of the best quality, but it will do the job.

I can already feel the warmness traveling my body, the pain starting to fade. Finally able to straight my back, I take a look at the attendees. The place is quite crowded and everyone seems accompanied but me. I share some awkward glances with familiar faces: Older boyfriends, older victims of my father. I can see my presence disturbs them. They try to forget that ever happened, but my face is a painful reminder. My eyes sink down in the bottom of the glass as my ears droop. I'll never put a guy in that situation again.

I'm not proud of resorting to this, but that's why I'm here. The attention-bell. Just in front of the tavern's alley exit hangs the bell. Ring it twice and everybody will know your cock needs attention. And that's precisely what I did.

Suddenly all the eyes were resting on me. They howled and threw me napkins, making me smile shyly as I felt my ears burn in shame. I stood idly there, for what seemed like ages, until finally someone got up and came to meet me. More napkins flew in our direction as the alberin reached for my hand and led me to the alley. "Come on handsome, let's have some fun!" He said winking, and grabbed my butt.

Again in the cold of the night, I lift my head to look at the stars as he kisses my neck, straddling me against the wall. I'm purring. How much I needed this. He slips his paw under my shirt and slowly begins to rub his way up to my chest, caressing me so gently I feel the urge to kiss him. Maybe its too much for my plan of not getting involved, but I go with it anyways. He tastes good. His tongue is so different from mine, so smooth.

I've never been with a fennec before. And it amazes me how his huge ears perk up as we keep exploring our mouths. It's a wonderful moment, but I suddenly yelp when he grabs my right side. Turns out, alcohol doesn't make miracles. "Are you all right?" He asked, pulling his muzzle away and looking at me worried. "Yeah, It- its nothing." And it'll be best to keep my shirt on, otherwise, he'll see A LOT of 'nothing'.

"You sure? Cause if-" I sensually covered his lips with two fingers and leaned next to his neck. "Shhh... I'm fine. Its just that I have this ache down here, you know?" I softly whispered, thrusting forward, pressing my erection against his. When I removed my hand from his muzzle, he'd already lost all intention of speaking.

The alberin gave me a hungry look and nuzzled his way down my belly till his snout was tickling my crotch. With two patient paws he slid down my pants, leaving my briefs in place. I was rock hard, a drop of pre staining my undies. He noticed and dipped his finger on it, rubbing my peehole in the process. A string formed as he brought the salty slime to his mouth. This fennec must have liked what he tasted, cause he just moaned and dug his nozzle deep in my crotch, taking a long whiff. He was drooling, completely dosed with my musk, I've never seen someone so hungry for a cock. And yet, he still hasn't pulled my undies down.

He teases me, tracing all my cock's length through the cloth with his gentle paw. I close my eyes and gasp. I keep precumming and he keeps collecting his prize, either rubbing my tip with his finger or enveloping it with his lips, letting his tongue drive my crazy. The pace is so slow, the touch so gentle, I'm getting impatient. I try to reach my waistband but he stops me mid-act. The lusty fennec wants the honor.

First he rubs all of my bathing suit area with both paws, groping my balls and squeezing my buttocks. Then, he finally has some mercy, and very, very slowly slides my briefs below the knees. My bright pink shaft bobbed in the air and, in a swift movement, he catched it and then gave it a kiss. I trembled and moaned, _he can't be this good. _

The alberin tilts his head and wraps his lips around my shaft like he was playing an harmonica. I don't know if he is a musician, but he definitely got me singing and purring to his rhythm.

He lets go for a moment and observes my cock, gleaming with his drool under the moonlight. He is hypnotized. I look down and realize he's stroking himself. He is getting off on my dick! _That's so. Fucking. Hot! _

My cock twitches from that thought, letting a drop of pre ooze. The alberin takes hold of it, and while still stroking himself, laps it clean. His mouth opens wide and he begins to carefully allocate my entire length inside it. It feels so warm, and his tongue, rubbing the underside of my shaft, playfully teasing my flaring barbs, is making my legs go wobbly.

Every time his nose hits my pubes he takes a good sniff, intoxicating with my musk, trembling, and gulping more pre. It won't take me much longer. I grab his ears and thrust fast and deep, like my breathing. His eyes are watery. I don't want him to choke, so I let go. But he keeps with the pace.

Furiously stroking himself, eyes tight shut, he uses his free hand to knead my balls madly while still sucking. On the final seconds, I embrace his head and impale his throat as jet after jet of my thick cum runs down through it. I whined loudly with each of the six pulses it took to empty my balls. I felt him spasm several times too. At first I thought he was suffocating, but it turns out he was releasing his load.

I bent down and held his head against my belly, while we both stared, almost in trance, our foggy breaths vanish, in slow, deep bursts. He looked up at me, holding my eye for a second, and then rubbed his cheek up and down my belly, while wrapping his arms around my hip. I kissed his head, holding him tighter. Its one of those moments I'll cherish forever.

"Oh, dude! I'm sorry!" He said looking between my legs, letting go of my body. My underwear was all drenched in his jizz. "*sigh*...That stain will not come out." I shrugged and stepped out of it, putting my pants back on, and tossing my ruined undies to the side.

His eyes were fixed on mine, clearly holding an unspoken inquietude. "What?" I inquired. "W-We already finished? M-My home is available...You know, if you wanna go a step further. " he said scratching his head and blushing.

This is not what I had in mind when I decided to hit the bar in search for some bondless fun. The bondless part failed miserably. Now this guy is standing right in front of me, hoping to get more than I can give him. The offer is tempting, and I'm certainly curious about how a knotted penis feels like.

But then I remembered my father, the meat hook, the pained look on my ex's face just some moments ago.

"I'm sorry, I really can't." Were my truthful words. Yet they seemed so cold and ungrateful, taken out of context. I could see the disappointment on his face, the feeling of rejection overcoming him as both his ears and tail dropped flat. Dammit. "Right now..." I added.

He raised his head and smiled, his chest puffing with hope. "When can I see you again?" The alberin rushed to ask, embracing my shoulders with his paws. What am I doing?! I can't go any further while still living under my father's roof. Unless...

Tomorrow's the King's day, there will be lots of rich people following the procession to give their expensive gifts to Vemiria's ruler. If I snatch something big enough, I'll be set to go living on my own. Its a bold move, but I can't bear more months of constant physical and psychological abuse. This is the encouragement I needed.

"Tomorrow night." I answered, closing my chances to back off. "Great!" He cheered and gave me a tight hug. I had to bite my lip not to scream from the pressure on my wounded ribs. We walked off the alley to go separate ways, when he turned back to me.

"Its Mike, by the way." He said with his hands in his pockets. "Nimbus." I replied, paw on heart. We waved and I quickly got back home, feeling the cold breeze sneak through my pants and up to my crotch. Needless to say, I didn't slept at all that night. My thoughts were fixed on Mike and the promise I made. It felt like I could get really intimate with him, to offer him my tailhole. He was so tender and caring. That's the kind of things that really matter to me, especially when considering such a sensitive issue... or tissue.

Call me old-fashioned, but if I'm going to let someone thrust inside me, it better be someone I trust.

**

The morning started early, as usual. I have to wake up while everyone still sleeps and get breakfast ready for them. Of course nobody ever thanks me for taking over all mom's work and not complaining even once. I can deal with that. Its dad's constantly belittling me what's driving me insane. Just while I was cooking, he passed by and sniffed me. "It smells like alcohol, *sniffs*, strong stuff." "Are you drunk?!" he looked angered at me. "No dad, I'm not drunk. I can perfectly handle alcohol." I gestured in dismissal. That just seemed to piss him further.

"You're so sure of that? Let's see then!" He said and landed a powerful fist into my guts. I fell to my knees, holding my stomach for a few moments of agony before I threw up, letting the little I had eaten spread to the floor. "I told you you were drunk. Now, clean your mess and go to the store." he patted my back and sat on his chair to calmly enjoy the food I prepared. My head hung just a few inches from the mess while I waited for the pain to faint. Dad didn't understand why, regardless of his aggression, I looked pleased at him. I had just put laxative roots in his meal. Its the little victories what I have to enjoy in life, and this one will grant me a good enough time window to sneak into the procession.

Just as I predicted, by noon, my father had urgently left the store. And I took off immediately after him. I was wearing a hooded cape to hide my face and clothing, and no footwear at all. You will not hear me coming unless I want it so, my foot paws are like feathers.

Mixed in the crowd, I began my search for targets, ears flicking from side to side as my tail tip curled. Small and valuable are my criteria. After a long time doing this, I can easily differentiate the packagings from all the jewelry stores in the city.

As I set eyes on a chubby priest, my thin irises become two massive black circles. I had found my target. He's carrying a small box from Massimo's, the most skilled goldsmith in town. How many times I must've passed in front of the store, looking the goods for hours, till they threatened to call the guards if I didn't leave. Damn Massimo, if I had the money, I would wear your whole stock.

Focus, Nim. Focus.

It can only be a necklace or perhaps a ring, and coming from the cleric it sure is expensive. There I feel it, my heart pumping fast, the adrenaline rush. I've never stolen anything in broad daylight. The risk is high, but I won't get another chance like this anytime soon.

Its time to act.

Walking calmly, I approached him by his right. Once we are side to side, I pat his left shoulder. He turned, of course. Sucker. With a gentle nudge of my tail, the package was propelled off his paw and landed between my own. I'm already ten feet away and sprinting when I hear the expected "THIEF!", that puts a smile on my face.

Leaving block after block behind me, fatigue finally takes over my body. I can't keep up with this pace. I look back. Now the cleric is accompanied by two very angry guards pointing with their swords in my direction. I'm far enough. I throw my cape to the air and make a sudden turn left into an alley.

A big pile of hay hides my figure while I wait for the three of them to pass by. Once I see they kept running, I open the box to see my price. Was it a ring? A necklace? A bracelet perhaps? No._ It was a big smoke bomb that blew right on my face, burning two of my whiskers. _FUCK. This is a decoy. If having my position given away by a column of orange smoke was bad enough, that the smoke contained pepper makes it even worse.

I'm running out of the alley but my vision is all blurred and I can't stop sneezing and coughing. I keep my sprint, bumping against random people. I don't dare to look back as I hear the yells from the guards becoming more sharp. Shit. Both my balance and coordination went to hell the moment I saw Mike.

Ungracefully, my body hit the ground, a cloud of dust surrounding me. I tried to get up when the clash of an armor, and the weight of its owner pinned me down to the dirt, once more. "Stay down you little piece of shit!" he said, kneeling on my back, letting me completely immobilized. He pulled my arm behind my back, twisting it painfully. Mike was frozen, eyes wide open, a paw on his muzzle. I looked away in shame.

"You know what the punishment for stealing is, kitty? Let's just say... you won't be able to count to ten ever again." he grinned and drew his sword out.

"No, please! I learned the lesson! It won't happen again!" I begged, trying to free my arm from his paw. But he just twisted it more, making me whine and writhe beneath him. "Please don't do it! I can pay you!" I tried to bargain with him.

"Are you attempting to bribe a Royal guard?" Fuck. Its not that kind of guard. "I hope you're a lefty, boy. Say goodbye to your right!" He lifted the sword in the air.

"HEEELP!" I cried at the top of my lungs, feeling an overwhelming hopelessness crushing my heart.

"What the hell you think you're doing?!" A merciful paw stopped the guard's swing. I turned my head and looked to Guard Captain Verik Lathan. A living institution. His marriage with the Shauv'n noble was the keystone in the pact between our races. Thank god he interceded.

"I-I caught him stealing s-sire, I was just applying t-the law." the guard stuttered wide eyed. "Nobody is chopping off a boy's hand on my watch! Besides, our rules don't apply to him, he's a kitten. He must be judged by the Shauv'n law. Now, get him to a court house... intact!" The guard tied my hands behind my back and dragged me from the nape, pushing through the crowd.

Mike followed my movement closely, walking just four steps beside me. All the way to the court we looked into each other's eye, in a silent, intimate bond that no words could have matched. Like it could change anything. Last time I saw him, he was arguing with a sentinel at the entrance, who signaled him where he would shove his spear if Mike kept trying to get in.

My heart was racing, my destiny would be decided inside these four walls. I expected to have a chance to explain myself, to ask for forgiveness, to redeem. How little I knew about my own kind's 'justice'. Five minutes it took the judge to determine my sentence.

"Name of the kitten?" the judge asked. The guard holding me nudged my side, motioning me to answer.

"N-Nimbus P-Prout, your honor" I lifted my head, my jaw unsteady.

"Charges he is accused of?" he added.

"This bastard tried to steal a gift to the King, your honor. Luckily, he fell for the decoy." the guard replied, putting a hand in front of my mouth, making clear he would answer the following questions.

"Oh, I see. That explains the orange dusting. So a thief then." The old wigged tiger adjusted his glasses to have a better look of me. "Hmmm... Stealing from the king. Seems like he hasn't been properly taught to respect authority." the judge pondered.

"Not only from the king, your honor. It was transported by a priest." with a smile, the guard added, holding my arm tight enough to cut the blood flow. Really?! I looked him back with hatred. "Amazing! He has no boundaries at all! Well, the sentence seems clear as water. SLAVERY" He slammed the mallet against the stand, sealing my fate.

"What?! No! Your honor, pleaaase! I'm truly sorry. It-it won't happen again!" I'd put my best sad kitty eyes in my plead.

"You are damn right it won't happen again, lad. I'm sure they'll correct your behavior on the pens. Notify the family--he addressed the guard--, they get half the sell price in return. The rest, as stipulated, is the thief's payment to the kingdom." the tiger didn't even blink while condemning me to a life of servitude.

"How much am I worth?! Perhaps I... I can literally pay for my offense?" I know, that sounds naive even for me. But hell I was desperate.

Both the Judge and the guard holding me laughed their asses off. "Good one.--his smile faded into a frown-- But there is no escaping this. My decision is final. Nimbus Prout, from this very moment, you are stripped of all rights!" Once more, the mallet met the stand, though the real blow was to my heart.

I broke into tears, struggling with the guard. I wanted to escape. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening to me. Suddenly, the world turned into darkness.

I woke up gagged, sitting knees to chest, heavily bound inside a cylindrical confined space. It took me a while to realize I was being transported in a wine barrel. There is a bump behind my head beating like a second heart; the guard must've knocked me off. Given my current setup, there's no doubt where I'm being taken.

Its incredible how the darkest and lowest activities are always the hardest to eradicate. "No slave can walk the city streets" is one of the pillars of alberin's moral. They thought that would be enough to prevent the slave traffic in the city. _They were so wrong. _

It is a proven fact that the moment you forbid something, you create a need for it. And where there's a need, there is a market willing to meet it. In this case, Vemiria's Underground Market.

Every Shauv'n tavern owns an entrance in it's cellar. Slaves are transported on broad daylight inside the wine barrels, to then be displayed, traded, used within the large extension of tunnels that compound the market.

The pact established that shauv'n traditions would be honored as long as they didn't interfere with alberin's law. And with the market, no slave will ever walk the city streets. The market is a Shauv'n only club too. So, still, no alberin will own a slave. It was dreadfully perfect. Coldly devised to stay within that thin line separating legal from Illegal. And that's the place I'm being taken to.

They downloaded me like they would download any regular barrel... by making it roll. I was so confused when they pulled me out, the world was spinning. They cut the ropes binding my legs and made me stand, by the time floor and ceiling had stopped swapping positions.

My body was stripped of all clothes while I trembled, unable to utter a word. My tail tucked up between my legs, trying to hide the little modesty I had left. There were three of them, cheetahs, working on me at all times. The fiercest, the one with the scar on the right eye, spoke to me. "Listen kitty-- he took hold of my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye--, you are a slave now. You exist only to fulfill your owner's every whim. And for that, we are here to tame you. The time it takes, the pain it takes, is up to you. Comply and everything will be easier. Have you understand?" I nodded with watery eyes. This whole situation was still too hard to swallow.

"Good. Now, the golden rule in slavery is silence. You shall never speak unless you're address by your owner. And if there is something urgent you need to communicate, always ask permission to do it." he said removing the gag from my maw. I stood in silence.

"Fast learner, huh? We'll see if that sticks." He turned and motioned me to follow him while the other two pushed me forward. It was so awkward to be the only one naked. That didn't lasted long, though. When we reached the main area, there were dozens of cells filled with naked slaves. All chained.

Nothing like the smell of sweat and urine to make you feel at home. The room was large and circular. In the center rose a forge, a stone bed with leather straps, and some brands poking out of the forge's blazing mouth. All the cells were arranged around this stage, like a roman coliseum. It was sinister that the only view the slaves got, outside their confined space, was that of their fellows being branded.

They put me inside a cell and forced me to lay on an tilt table... upside down. There, I had a first encounter with the cheetahs' claws, while I fought being strapped to it. Note to self: Comply.

"I seriously warn you kitty. We are urged to be soft with new comers. But I assure you, we love the hard way." he pressed his footpaw hard on my balls, making me flinch. One of the cheetahs brought a big jar from outside and handed it to the leader."Drink it all." he said. I had my reserves, fearing what weird liquid they would make me drink. But a quick stomp to my bits opened both my mind and muzzle. Turns out, It was just water. Lots of water.

I had drunk faster if my head wasn't lower than my belly. "We'll be back to check on you in an hour. Be quiet; otherwise..." his toes slightly squeezed my balls. I gulped, nodding.

By the time they came back, I had already realized the purpose of this setup. I was sweating, trying to hold the urge to empty my bladder. "Being a slave-- he rubbed my belly--, you must forget about concepts like pride or self love. Let them flow away from your body." he intentionally phrased that, three big grins forming in the cheetahs' faces.

They turned and left the cell again. One more hour I struggled against the restraints. The sting in my bladder had become painful, making my hips spasm uncontrollably. My whole body was tense, I couldn't concentrate in anything else. My mind was focused on trying to stop the inevitable. The scarred one looked at me, amused with my resistance, as he approached.

"Don't fight it. Accept your fate." he took hold of my sheath, pointing it straight to my face, and then repeatedly pushed his other paw below my navel, like it was some kind of bellows. I cried out. The dam yielded. Closing my eyes, I felt the warm golden stream hitting my chin. A wonderful feeling of relief collided with utter humiliation as the cheetah made sure to cover all my torso with my own urine. He aimed my nose too, as if it wasn't enough.

The smell stung, burning down my throat and into my lungs. I sneezed a couple of drops out of my snout. They laughed at my sobbing. The leader crouched next to my face. "Are you crying, kitty?" I tilted my head away from him. "I made you a question." he grunted. "Of-of course I'm crying! My throat burns w-with my own pee!" I whined. He immediately slapped me. "Address me properly, slave." Really?! I just growled at him, my eyes screaming murder.

He just got up and moved to my crotch, resting a paw on it. My ears dropped and I was again a frightened kitten. "No, please no! I-I'm sorry! I'm really sorry... m-master?" I didn't knew how to call him. "That's better. --he grinned-- But you still need to be punished for your insolence." he pulled his cock out. My eyes opened wide. He gotta be kidding me. He wasn't. The cheetah relieved himself all over me. What was damp became wet. I cried with all my heart. Once he finished, he took a sniff next to my face. "Yep! He is definitely piss off! --he laughed along with the other two-- Sleep well, kitty. See ya tomorrow!" the cheetah winked at me and left cheerful with his pals.

Alone again, my thoughts drifted back to Mike while I looked emptily at the roof. How could I be so impulsive, dammit! I ruined my life! I had a plan, and I threw it away at the first show of affection. If Mike felt the same I did, he would have waited me. He would have understand. Its me who didn't want to wait. I took the first option that saved me from standing more months of constant beatings, without giving it a second thought. When I was arrested, Mike didn't step aside. He actually followed me, I saw the look in his eyes. Fuck! I'll never see him again! What have I done? What have I done...

**