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Teaser: Sitting Purr-etty (Unaware AV - 1.5k words)
🕑 Added 2020-02-29 23:26:22 +0000 UTCYou clamber onto the couch cushions, and almost immediately start sinking into them. The fabric is softer than you expected- it’s cosy, squishy, with a silky texture so fine you can’t even tell the threads apart despite being so close - but that doesn’t make them any less inviting. For once, your size benefits you, with each cushion like a royalty-sized bed for you to collapse against, stretching out far beyond your reach. You can roll and scramble over the fluff without worrying about running out of space.
No wonder Phirae’s so soft, his seat’s almost as good as the cat himself. It isn’t even his bed, so you can’t possibly imagine how that can be any better, but you have every faith that his pillows are somehow even more of a marshmallow bliss.
A clink from the hallway startles you out of your softness-induced trance. The door shuts softly, but it’s still an unmistakable sound. Phirae’s home.
You scrabble to your feet, and trip over yourself in the process, sinking back into the plushness of the cushions. You take a while to steady yourself, but just as you get to your feet, everything falls into the shadow of something else. A certain yawning black cat, who’s been too distracted to notice something like a tiny {=LCase (player.species)} sitting in his spot on the couch.
Phi’s butt looms overhead, bare, proud, round, and plush, like a big...heavy...cat butt. There’s nothing to compare it to, and metaphors fail you when you’re faced with the imposing prospect with what the cat’s about to do. His tail sways in a high arc, swinging up and out of the way with a subtle ring of the bells on his collars. The bell rings, louder than you can shout and grab his attention. He’s not going to look back, and he’s aimed to park his butt right on top of you.
You take one long look at the cat’s soft ass, and fall back into the couch cushions with your arms spread wide, ready to catch that bounty of booty. There’s only one thing softer than the seat you’re sinking into, why would you ever want to avoid it?
You can see his muscles flex, with a subtle jiggle of his hips. The cat’s always had a big butt for his size, but it might as well be colossal, now. Each soft mound could hide you, and bury you in bouncy buttpudge, to say nothing of how easy you could disappear into the cleft between them. It could engulf you entirely so easily, and dominate your entire world, but Phirae’s none the wiser. He’s just tired, and looking forward to relaxing as long as he can get away with it.
You get one quick huff, and one gentle flick of his tail as he stretches, but then the cat sits, and it all comes crashing down.
You’re sent deep into the cushion, far further than you could sink under your own weight. Everything is tight, and hot, and far softer than it had any right to be. It would be heaven, if it weren’t for the slow, methodical grinding shoving you over the seat, and surrounding you in the unavoidable scent of cat musk. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s certainly overpowering, and it’s potency is multiplied by your size difference. It’s intoxicating.
There’s no space to squirm, or even get a handful of his soft rump cheeks. They squeeze you more than you can knead into them, almost like toying with you, if they ever noticed you were there. Though the pressure eventually relents, the scent grows stronger when you inevitably slip into the only available space - right in between his cheeks, and towards the source of it all.
The cat’s tailhole flexes, almost teasingly, in front of you. But they’re just the natural twitches as he moves; there’s no sudden tension that comes with recognition of something beneath him. You may be bigger than a pea, but Phirae’s no princess. He’s too busy relaxing to notice you squeezing into the cleft of his buttcheeks, as his thighs shift and his weight rocks back. Fur closes in on either side of you, leaving you trapped.
His voice is muffled, having to go through layers of fat and fur and flesh, reverberating in your little trapped pocket of space between cat and cushion, curled in right beneath his tail. Not that he says anything important: just a long, relaxed sigh, content to sink into the soft embrace. Just like you were, before he came along.
You wriggle your way into where the space is less tight, which brings you up towards the base of Phi’s tail. The seat below slinks away as you’re fully engulfed in cat ass, tucked in right against the cat’s hole. Better than being squashed beneath his taint, at least. As if to taunt you, Phirae scoots his ass backward and leans back, tensing his rump cheeks and trapping you between them, once again losing you in a sea of inky blackness.
When they relax, you’ve been shoved in deeper, right against the feline’s flexing pucker. The soft flesh brushes against you, a slightly slicker, warmer touch compared to the cats fur, but just as soft and welcoming. A soft nudge from the base of Phi’s tail ensures you’re kept close, almost tucked in on all other sides. If you’re looking for more space, the best place to find that is on the other side of a whole lot more squishing. You’ll be trading out your current spot for a slightly larger one, but is more comfort and less accidental squashing worth trading for intense heat and clenches?
You’ll get Phirae’s attention on the way in, at least.
You take a soft sigh to compose yourself, and instead get a load of dizzying musk. You might have stumbled and rested against the cat’s asshole for support, if you weren’t already swept off your feet and cosied up to the flexing rim. You cling onto it anyway, squeezing along the edge of the deep wrinkles, until they squeeze in, you almost slip away. They almost carry your arms in along with them, if you hadn’t been cradled by the cleft of his ass cheeks. They’re sensitive, definitely, but Phirae still doesn’t notice you. Or he’s playing coy, and isn’t about to get up just yet. Either way, you’re still trapped, and teased with the prospect of being smushed under his soft cheeks if you don’t find somewhere else to squirm.
But even though his tailhole warns you of its strength, your curiosity isn’t sated. You squeeze the ring of flesh, slowly pushing your hands in and gently tugging to gape it slightly. Your arms slide in easily enough - they’re so small they slide right in to the centre of his pucker, into the engulfing heat - but trying to pry apart the muscle is a little more effort. The sphincter is larger than your head, and opens up to that wide when the cat’s butthole relaxes. Soft, warm pink winks at you, the warmth of his innard squelching with a wet shift of intestinal slime.
You can reach right into the depths of Phi’s rectum before it closes up again around your arms, tugging them in shoulder deep, and pinning your face up against the outer edge of his rim. It doesn’t stop you from squirming, and gently tugging your arms apart, insistent to give the cat’s pucker a good stretching. You know it can go wider than that. Maybe it needs a little more encouragement. You kick off the side of Phirae’s buttcheek, and dive right into the feline’s asshole.
There’s no hiding his moan, even if he tried too. Or maybe it’s just your imagination, of deep gurgles within his bowels as they tense, and smother you in a wave of hot flesh clenching in a moment later. You’re squeezed in tight, surrounded on all sides by twitching pink. You keep squirming, shoving at the edges of his tailhole to create space, just enough to tug yourself deeper into the feline’s butt. Your legs dangle in the small space beneath his tail, as the sphincter rests around your hips.
But not for long. You brace your legs against the side of his rim, digging into the flesh to kick out and stretch the cat’s pucker. It takes a few tries to work your legs in fully, but you’re finally rewarded with a luckily timed flex, and are granted a brief view of the outside world framed by Phi’s gaping butthole, before it tenses up once more, and carries you up the rest of the way into Phirae’s rectum.
