Joining the Girls

While on vacation in the big city, a cat's friend gets turned into a trashy rat girl, then tries to do the same to him. Explicit.

The last night had whirled into an exciting blur. Rebecca had been with him for most of it. She had run off in some other direction, said there was someone who wanted to something something and she'd be back by morning, and he hadn't seen her since. Circ had ended up sprawled on the bed in the hotel room by the end of it all.

Their trip to the city had been a lazy, fun week for the two friends to kick back and do all the sorts of touristy things. They were leaving Sunday night, but they still wanted to make the most of it, so the two of them had convinced each other that going out to a club would be fun. And it was fun. The problem was getting up the next morning.

Hell of a Party

A Halloween party gets more enjoyable for a young cat once a demonic force starts altering reality. Explicit.

Circ had grown out of parties. Well, he didn't want to say it like that and sound like an asshole, but that was pretty much the way he felt. Parties were great when you were a kid and got presents and everyone played games. And he bet that parties were pretty fun when you were an adult and could get drunk and do all sorts of crazy stuff. But when you were a teenager, what was there to do?

He couldn't dance, so trying to would be an embarrassment. It was way too loud to have a conversation with someone. But everyone was was where it was noisy; he couldn't slip off somewhere quiet and find someone to talk to.

The music was hurting the brown cat's ears. Damn it, was he getting a headache? He'd wanted to go trick or treating, but his friends had talked him into coming to the party instead. He was pretty sure he'd be having more fun trick or treating. Only maybe half the people had even showed up in any kind of costume.

A Proper Belle

A cat inherits an old Southern manor, which comes complete with a friendly ghost who wants to dress him up. Explicit.

Trees whirred by in a green haze. The gentle undulations of the guardrail blurred into a wriggling wave. He had been on the road for a few hours now, but the exit was coming up soon.

'Dear Sir: It is with great sadness that I write to you today, to inform you of the death of Emmaline Beauregard, your great-aunt.'

Circ never heard of a great-aunt in the family. And he didn't know that he had any family in Georgia in the first place. In fact, he had assumed the first letter was a prank, or that the mail had delivered it to the wrong person despite both the letter and envelope bearing his name.

'Her will stipulates that the bulk of her estate is to be given to her youngest blood relative of legal standing. As you are the one to whom these conditions apply, we ask for an opportunity to speak with you, at your earliest convenience.'

To Be The Dream

A sci-fi fan zapped onto a Galaxy-class starship fills the role of the Caitian counselor. Explicit.

This wasn't Melissa's bed. For one thing, her bed didn't have big thick lumps in it. And her bed did have sheets, which were conspicuously missing now. She was beginning to think she wasn't lying down on a bed at all.

With an uncomfortable groan, she pushed herself up and pushed her eyelids open. Crates. Right. And she had been lying on? A crate. The pattern on the top of the lid was stamped into the side of her face. Her neck ached slightly until her sitting up elicited a loud crack that spread out into the vastness of the room.