The dimly lit room was alive with the sound of purring and the gentle rustle of fur. A man, dressed only in his underwear, sat nervously on a stool in the center of the space. His eyes darted about, taking in the scene before him as he tried to understand what was happening.
On either side of him were tall, wooden kennels filled with cats—both large and small, male and female. They watched him with curious eyes, their tails flicking back and forth. Some purred louder than others, but none made a sound meant to comfort him.
A woman wearing nothing but a black leather corset and thong entered the room. She pushed a metal tray towards him, its contents left to his imagination. On it were several bowls and a pair of what looked like surgical gloves. "Time to feed the kitties," she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.
The man swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. As he took the gloves and picked up the first bowl, he tried to summon the courage to ask what exactly he was being asked to do. But before he could speak, the woman spoke again, her tone cold and commanding. "Eat your cat food, slave."
He nodded, too afraid to disobey, and began to feed the cats. One by one, they approached him, their eyes fixed on his own. They ate from the bowls, their little faces scrunched up in concentration as they chewed. Some purred softly, their whiskers tickling his hand as they ate from the gloved palm.
As he worked his way through the first few bowls, a sense of dread began to creep over him. He had never been much of a cat person—and the thought of eating their food, much less their feces, was beyond repulsive to him. Yet here he was, duty-bound to obey.
When he reached the final bowl, he looked up at the woman in confusion. "Is that all?" he asked cautiously.
She tilted her head to the side, contemplating him. "Not quite," she replied, her voice coy. "There's just one more course to go."
With that, she reached into the cage of the largest cat in the room and pulled out a handful of feces. She held it up for him to see, and he gagged, his stomach turning. "Swallow it," she commanded.
He opened his mouth, his eyes wide with horror. He tried to swallow, but the lump in his throat prevented him from moving. Finally, with a deep breath, he forced it down. The taste was beyond foul, but he couldn't let her know how much it disgusted him.
When he finally finished, he looked up at her, expecting her to release him from his duty. But instead, she simply patted him on the head and walked away, leaving him alone with the sensation of grossness crawling over his skin.
As he waited for his mistress to return, he couldn't help but wonder what she had in store for him next. The thought made him shudder, but he knew that he would ultimately obey. After all, it was his duty as a slave—even if it meant doing things that went against his very nature.
