He was gorgeous
Feline in so many respects, both the literal and the metaphorical, graceful and sinuous in his movements, a dangerous gleam in those narrowed, piercing blue eyes
he tilts his head at you, gently, playfully kicking his legs, short enough for them to not quite reach the floor
Dark, dusky fur, with hair to match cascading down in a touseled mane, razor fangs showing with a glint in the scant light of the bar as he regards you past those squared frames perched on a pert muzzle as he grins at you
that smile is damnable, having grabbed you from the moment you'd seen him
he'd been a master of his element, the stage seemingly made for him as he'd sung and danced his little number up for the patrons of the dark, smokey cafe, the cat having all the right curves for the way he'd swung his hips as he'd sashayed, light, ginger steps on talented paws
and those hips, curvy and feminine, clad in nothing but a skirt
oh well, it's 2018, who are you to judge? Men can wear skirts if they want
the mic pressed to grinning teeth as he'd practically made out with it, somehow captivating the whole audience
but he'd had an eye for you, and only you
either he was just really good at playing to a crowd, or the song, saucy and his tongue curling with those suggestive lyrics, was made to bring you two together
you'd somehow swallowed your nerves and steeled yourself enough to approach him, after he'd stepped off that stage for a breather, and he'd turned to you with that mischievous little smile, like a secret shared
you don't remember what you said, something no doubt stupid and stumbling over your own words
the cat had just given a musical little laugh, every bit as sulty and commanding as the song, and before you'd known it, he'd somehow smoothly gotten you away from the chaos of the dance floor, into the booth
he was the type to absolutely enjoy being flirted with, the little game of cat and mouse
despite how clumsy you were, he seemed utterly enchanted

that smooth voice of his thanks the waiter who brings you two glasses of red, dark wine, seemingly unbidden
but this was a fancy, swanky sort of place, maybe that kind of thing was normal?
there's a tiny nod of appreciation from the cat, which at the time, doesn't seem very important
when he lifts his glass to his lips and drains it of a small sip, you finally feel relaxed enough to do the same
after all, you'd really like to go home with this cat, tonight
that little grin of his as he gently bites the lip of his glass with a click of teeth, his tongue pressing to the curve of it, bending in clever ways, as though it were PROMISING something
and so you start to joke and laugh with him, flirting, slowly gaining the confidence you need for it, he had a way of making you relax
or maybe that was the wine?
speaking of, now that you're thinking about it, it's got an aftertaste that you wouldn't normally associate with most reds
almost kind of bitter
and as soon as it hits you palate, that's when things start to go wrong
like a lead ball in your gut, sinking to your feet
like an icy hand curling its dread fingers about your spine, making you shiver
like a hot blush spreading across your face, making you sweat
"Are you feeling alright?"
and yet, as the cat asks you that, he doesn't seem very concerned
in fact, he's buffing his claws on his shirt collar, smirking at you with that same devious little head tilt
what did he do to you?

the process is slow, at first, you feeling sick to your stomach as the world seems to swell around you, a subtle thing, but picking up the pace until it's obvious
the way everything becomes huge as your viewpoint lowers, more and more
including the now-towering cat as he grins down at you, legs crossed and one handpaw swirling his glass of wine
just before you vanish below the edge of the table, you see him offer a little wave of his fingers just as he's taking another sip
and that's when your world's plunged into darkness, as you sink into the confines of the clothes that didn't shrink with you, slipping into the dark cotton of undergarments that once strained to contain your arousal
the same arousal that you can't deny pulses through you even now, the process leaving you panting and blushing, scurrying around in the fabric of your shirt.
you fight and paw at the prison around you, like heavy canvas draped over you, and you finally surface with a raspy gasp for precious air... just in time for a loud, thunderous giggle to rattle the world around you
that same voice croons from above, now, only sonorous and sending tremors of fear and anticipation both down your spine, as blue eyes peer at you from beneath the table as he leans with a cascade of that hair spilling over his shoulders
"Mn, seems my friend's left me all alone," he says, while those huge blue eyes, now pools big enough for you to swim in, focus full well on yours.

"Guess he won't mind if I put my feet up, then~"
suddenly, your personal space gets very much invaded, by the footpaw that lifts up and onto the booth seat, across from the cat, the feline slumping forward with a satisfied little sigh, slipping down the seat with a happy wag of his tail
leathery pads and fluffy fur between the toes bulldozes into you, quite severely pinning you into the back of the seat, toes gently clenching as they smoosh around your muzzle, a self-satisfied little smirk on his face
not that you can see it, through the fur between his toes, filtering each breath you manage to wheeze in through the musk and scent of paws, the ground he's walked on, the scent of conditioner
wildflowers, maybe?
it's a little odd that the thought occours to you even now, as you squirm and fidget against fur and pawsole, is that this cat takes care of himself.
the fluffy softness and the wamrth that radiates from them wars with the pressure it's exerting against you, the plush cushion at your back the only grace keeping you from being squished

and it only gets worse, the punishing force of those toes against your face only getting that much more unbearable as he lifts the heel, grinding those pads against your upper body and smearing the scent of paws and himself into your fur, twisting the mainpad against you like he were grinding out a cigarette
truly, you barely even notice the way the other paw lifts up against you, those boulder-sized toes gently pressing against your erection, the cat above giggling as he feels it against his pads
at least, gently compared to the other paw still smooshing against your face, but at least it relents just enough to let you breathe, the burn in your lungs abating as you suck down precious air, no longer caring that it's stained by footpaw
far above, you hear the cat give a theatrical yawn as he plays with you
gently brushing those toes against you, the fur grinding against your erection as it bobs gently, up and down, with your member caught between the soft warmth of the two middle ones
the pace picks up, slows, alternates, stops entirely, once, your cry of despair at the idea he might not finish you off getting another loud giggle, and the sensations and efforts continue anew
until you have no choice; you tense, shudder
and whimper and cry out as you stain his paw

there's a quizzical "hm?" as he tilts his head again, knitting his brow as he feels that pitiful little wetness between his toes, as though he somehow weren't expecting that
a disapproving cluck of his tongue makes you blink, as you huff and pant and mindlessly hump against those pads, slumping forward and against them, that first set of toepads gently cradling and rocking you a little
"Ugh," he sniffs. "Now I'm gonna have to clean this up. Don't you go anywhere," he warns.
Even while he's gone off to clean up your mess, probably to the restroom, you dare not disobey
After all, where would you go?
And you dare not think of what might happen if he found you like this, and with a feline's eyes and nose, he definitely would, eventually
So you stay put, basking in afterglow and panting from your ordeal, the scent and heat of those paws still thick in the air around you, making you blush and squirm
The cat doesn't take long, his shadow falling back over you as he stands above the seat you're in, having made his way over with that same swish of his hips and sway of his tail, his hands on his knees as he leans over you.
"I have good news and bad news," he tells you, grinning so wickedly down at you, that you just know that both are going to end up being bad for you.
"Good news is, on the way back, I met a very charming young lady. She's just grabbing a drink from my friend over there," he nods at the waiter from earlier, "and then heading over here to join us..."
the blood drains from your face as your eyes go wide, the first hints of the implication starting to hit you
"The BAD news is: I promised her that seat," he jerks his head in an indicative motion towards the half of the booth he'd just been in, and then those massive sapphires he calls eyes swing down to focus on you again. "So...~"

You remember wanting to get at that rear end, later that night, but not quite like this
It's utterly massive as it swings above you, drowning you in its shadow as he swivels around to take a seat, a little wriggle of his hips as his rear end
it's now that you can notice something else: he's not wearing anything beneath that skirt, supple, rounded cheeks of bare fur and a rigid member that dwarfs you for size poising itself above you
the last thing you hear is his bit-lipped giggle as he slowly lowers it, far more slowly than is strictly necessary
it blots out the shadow, you crying out in alarm and fear as you feel it touch the top of your head, first, and then by no means does it stop coming
again, it's only the relative softness of the booth seat that saves you when several hundred tons of kitty ass settles down around and smooshes against you from above as the cat takes his seat, letting out a small, blushing gasp and a tiny moan as he settles down on you, wriggling his hips and squirming to grind himself down upon you
your bones creak, and the light and air and hope is crushed from your tiny frame
tiny breaths are all you can manage, and that's only because as he's wriggled and settled down on you, you've managed to get yourself wedged between those dark-furred cheeks, and based on the way he's settled into his seat, you're going to be here... for a long, long while.
And the cat giggles again as he feels your pitiful struggles and squirming, blushing warmly as he contemplates the excitement of adding another to his collection.