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Kevin awoke with a gasp, finding himself on just about the biggest bed he’d ever seen, easily twice the size of his cubicle.
There were four posts on this bed, like something Kevin had seen in a picture book about kings and queens in the Southern Alliance. The posts were covered with translucent drapes that matched the sheets, the cover, and the large number of fluffy pillows.
It was a great place to be, definitely much better than the hospital he’d fallen asleep in.
With a yawn—and the realization that life wasn’t as bad as it had been when he’d been standing at the top of the immigration administration building contemplating suicide, nor was it as bad as being rescued by the same douche-bucket who was boning his wife, only to be whisked away to a hospital against his will—Kevin placed both hands behind his head and sighed deeply.
He looked down at his belly, which was large, but not as large as some he had seen in Centralia. Perspective was key for Kevin; while he may be a fat man, at least he wasn’t as fat as other people, and on the scale of things, those other people would probably be envious of someone with a body like his.
“He’s awake,” said a soft, female voice.
“Who’s there?” he asked.
The drapes surrounding his bed parted, and a petite woman no taller than five feet hopped onto the mattress. She had furry cat ears, and her dark-black hair was cast into two pigtails at the sides of her head. Her skin was a few shades away from light brown, flawless and hairless.
She was topless, her breasts perfectly formed. Better than any exemplar, better than any woman at one of the secret strip clubs in Centralia, better than anything he had seen in a comic book.
The cat girl standing before him was in a league of her own.
She turned and revealed her bottom half, which was barely covered by a pair of panties. A black tail jutted out just above her thong, its end lightly curling in the air.
“Where are we?” he asked, the realization that he definitely wasn’t at the hospital blooming.
“Hello, Kevin.”
“A Type III Class B? Beast-morphing?” Kevin whispered to himself.
The petite feline female pretended to claw the air and then stopped, giving Kevin a moment to look her over once again. With that, she pressed the heels of her feet together and lowered her knees to the side, now sitting in a variation of a cross-legged position.
Kevin’s eyes naturally gravitated towards her panties, which barely covered her mound. She was clean-shaven, no fuzz sticking out the sides, and while her panties may have been black, there was an emblem on the front. A dark-blue emblem he could barely make out.
“Glad you’re here,” said another, sharper voice.
The other side of the bed curtain parted and another petite feline female, this one with turquoise hair and a yellow clip near one of her ears, crawled into the bed.
“Who are you two, and what do you want from me?” Kevin demanded as he took the second one in, noticing the minor differences between the two. While the dark-haired cat girl had larger breasts, the turquoise-haired cat girl had a larger ass, which she accentuated by sitting on her knees and looking over her shoulder at Kevin, her turquoise tail bobbing up and down.
There were other similarities as well, namely in their overall height and their facial features, which were soft, oval, their skin the meeting place between white and tan, like the pages of a journal but softer, creamier, classic.
“He’s a little too big,” the black cat girl said to her counterpart. “But I kind of like it.”
“He has bigger breasts than I do,” the other said with a chuckle.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked, kicking his feet.
“Obsidian,” said the one with black hair and pigtails.
“Turquoise.” The turquoise-haired cat girl spun around, putting her weight on Kevin’s shins so he could no longer kick his feet. Kevin tried to move away, but only found himself against the backboard.
“Mmmm, he’s so feisty,” Obsidian said as she pressed nearer to him. She placed her clawed hands on the blanket that covered his lower half and whipped it away, exposing Kevin’s nude body.
“Look what I found...” The black-haired cat girl took in Kevin’s rather large erection.
It was his only selling point, and probably the reason his wife, Susan, had married him in the first place. Kevin may have been a tub of lard, but he was a tub of lard with a nine-inch cock, practically a superpower to most men in Centralia, the Eastern and Western Provinces, or the Northern and Southern Alliances.
Obsidian clasped her hand around it, admiring its girth.
“Please, I’m not trying to offend anyone. It’s just—I’m sorry!” Kevin blabbered.
Obsidian let go of his member and moved up his body so that Turquoise could move up as well. She now sat with her legs clasped around one of his thighs, her knee inches away from his gonads. She placed her hand just below his naval and began slowly drumming her fingers.
A bead of sweat appeared on the side of Kevin’s head.
“They really are like a woman’s breasts,” Obsidian said as she squeezed his man-tits. The black-haired cat girl now sat to his immediate right, a curiously mischievous look on her face.
“Do they taste like them too?” asked Turquoise.
Obsidian lowered her head to Kevin’s nipple and licked it with her sandpaper tongue.
“Oh my!” Kevin gasped as she did it again.
“What do you think?” Turquoise asked her counterpart. Kevin’s heart was beating faster than it had ever beat before. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined there would be one—not to mention two—beautiful, clearly foreign exemplars in bed with him, each of them dangerously close to his throbbing penis—and licking his nipples at that!
“Please,” he said, his brain barely able to maintain control over his lower half. “Just let me go.”
The black-haired cat girl bent forward and licked Kevin’s other man-tit, considered the taste, and turned to her counterpart. “I think it tastes almost the same.”
“Kevin,” Turquoise said without looking away from his throbbing erection, “are you ready to tell us what we need to know?”
Kevin felt a furry appendage wrap around his penis and he knew immediately, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was one of their tails. Sweat dripped from his hairline, his heart beat against the inside of his rib cage, his nerves tingled—Kevin had discovered the blurred, intoxicated line between pleasure and fear.
“What... what do you mean?” he finally asked.
“You know exactly what we mean, and you’re going to tell us everything we need to know.”
“About what?”
The black-haired cat girl laughed. “About your job, silly,” she said as her tail lifted from his cock and into the air again. “That’s why we brought you here. You tell us about your job, and we pleasure you. Don’t tell us about your job, and we pleasure ourselves, using you.”
“Pleasure yourselves using me?”
Obsidian brought her hand back and slapped Kevin’s face, leaving four fresh scratch marks across his beefy jowls.
“Hey!” He winced at the sting of the cuts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t know why you want to know about my job. I work as an immigration advisor!” Kevin cried, sobbing now, even though he still had a raging boner on the verge of bursting. “I’m just a normal guy, just working to help exemplars come here from other places. I swear! That’s what I do; that’s all I do.”
Turquoise sighed. “He’s lying to us.”
“I really wish you wouldn’t lie to us.”
Kevin looked with true fear at Obsidian’s predatory grin.
“I’m not lying,” he finally managed to say, his voice quivering. “I promise this is really who I am!”
“No, no, Kevin. We know exactly who you are,” said Turquoise, a sinister frown forming on her face, “and you are going to tell us everything we want to know. There are worse things than torture...”
“There are?” Kevin asked, a strange glaze painting over his vision.
“Poor thing, he’s already starting to feel it.” Obsidian ran her claw down Kevin’s arm, drawing more blood. “It’s only downhill from here.”
