The patron gently strokes me as I freeze up stiff. The hand brushing over me, slow and steady, feels way too good—but I know exactly what’s going to happen next. Just as I expect, without a hair’s breadth of deviation, the bastard leans his lips in. Watching the patron’s snout draw closer and closer, I stretch my front paws straight out.
“…K?”
The patron calls out in a puzzled voice. Right now, I’m dangling in both of his hands, my front paws neatly extended, firmly blocking his lips. His force as he tries to come closer clashes head-on with the strength of my paws. I put all my power into it and shove his lips away.
The patron lets out a low laugh. He probably thinks I’m just fooling around. Big mistake. Right now, inside my head, I’m chanting, Move your damn mouth. You fucking bastard. I want to turn human and tell him properly, but if I did that, I’d end up getting my lips sucked until they puff up like balloons again tonight. I have to protect my lips.
Suddenly, the patron’s face pulls back. My eyes sparkle—did I finally succeed?
Yeah, right. In the brief moment I lower my front paws, his lips strike like lightning—smack—and latch right on.
“K.”
He smiles beautifully. I glare at him while he wraps me up in a sheet.
“Hey. Give me clothes.”
That’s what I say, but he has no intention of moving. Instead, he strokes my arms in a strangely suggestive way and slams me down onto the bed.
“…You perverted bastard.”
I mutter it toward the patron as he crawls up over me. He just laughs like that’s perfectly fine.
When his soft tongue licks over my lips, my whole body twists up. I push against his chest. In response, he presses his lips to my ear and whispers,
“I’ll make you feel good. Yeah?”
That lewd hand sneaks its way down toward my ass. Looks like he’s planning to knead it like rice cake again today. This bastard—every day that passes, the way he kneads me gets stranger and stranger. The real problem is… it actually feels pretty damn good.
I grab the patron by the collar, flip our bodies, and climb up to sit on his chest. From above, I narrow my eyes down at his lips trapped beneath me.
“Hey. Am I really that good to you?”
I ask, and even while pinned down, he smiles and nods without a second of hesitation.
Looking into those glittering golden eyes, I start to feel like maybe I can endure my lips turning into balloons just a little longer. No matter what anyone says, this bastard is my patron—and my… that—after all.
I snort once and bend forward. When I give his lips a quick lick, a sharp jolt shoots through my whole body. My hips twitch on their own.
“…Don’t knead my ass.”
At my demand, the patron’s smiling face freezes for a moment. A few seconds later, he nods.
Thank goodness. At least my ass is safe for now.
Without hesitating any longer, I press my lips smack against the patron’s mouth as he waits obediently. At this rate, my lips are probably going to turn into balloons again tonight.
***
Huuuaam—
The patron yawns. Even yawning, the handsome bastard has a certain flair. He lightly covers his mouth with his fist, eyes damp as he opens wide. It looks exactly like when he’s been sucking and biting my lips for ages, and I end up flicking my tail back and forth.
Ever since I got into a that-kind-of relationship with him, my tail stopped being just my tail. The moment even a slightly that-kind of thought crosses my mind, it starts flapping around on its own. At first, I tried biting it hard or pinning it down with my front paw, but nothing worked. I even considered putting a cast on it at one point. But now I’ve given up. These days, if things get even a little that-like, my tail just happily flaps around by itself.
That yawn makes three now. He must be especially sleepy today. Well, no wonder. He holds out until sunrise every day and only manages a brief nap—of course he’s exhausted. If I’m sleepy, I just nap during the day, but my diligent patron doesn’t even do that. All that fatigue piles up until it finally hits its limit.
Watching him pore over documents with drooping eyes makes my chest ache. If I could, I’d honestly do his work for him. But I can’t even read the letters here, and during the day I’m just a cat, so there’s nothing I can do. See? If he’d just gone to sleep quietly when I scratched his back complaining that my lips hurt, he wouldn’t be this tired. Instead, he harassed me until sunrise and now looks like that.
Last night, he broke his promise not to knead my ass. After sucking on my lips for a good while, he whispered something, and without thinking, I nodded along. How was I supposed to know he was asking if he could knead my ass? Once you give this guy permission, he goes all the way. He kneaded someone else’s ass like he was working dough. He was so serious about it that I wondered if something might actually come out if he kept kneading like that.
Come to think of it, despite how he looks, this bastard has a pretty lecherous side to him. I’m not calling him a pervert for nothing.
The first time my lips swelled up was because the patron got me drunk on alcohol—and yeah, it felt good—but ever since we became that-kind-of relationship, every night he gives me those sly smiling eyes and coaxes me into doing this and that. No wonder I keep dodging him so desperately to avoid turning human. At first, it was just a bit of back petting and lip-sucking. Then came kneading my chest, fiddling with my nipples, and now he’s moved on to my ass. How long has it even been since we became that, and he’s already speeding ahead like this? This is absolutely, unquestionably wrong.
Anyway, by the time I finally fell asleep, my lips weren’t just swollen—they were puffed up—and both my right and left nipples were completely slick with spit. I’m pretty sure my ass was a little swollen too. I got this creeping sense of crisis that I was about to turn into Angelina Jolie, so I scratched his back with all the strength I had. But then he let out this lewd little moan—“Nngh—”—right into my ear and started kneading my ass like he’d lost his damn mind. Seems like the more pain he feels, the more energized he gets.
No matter how much he’s my man… my that, there’s a need to restrain ourselves when it comes to doing lewd stuff every night. Even if it feels good and my lower half’s standing at attention, there are still lines that need to be drawn. I failed yesterday, but today, I’ll definitely succeed in escaping and protect my constantly abused lips, nipples, and ass.
Huuuaam—
The patron yawns again. I can’t stand it anymore and push myself up.
When I climb out of the basket, the patron looks over at me, probably thinking I want to play again. Without a word, I plant my front paws on his shoulders.
I spread my right paw wide and press down hard, then spread my left paw wide and press down hard, alternating back and forth. The patron calls out, “K?” I glance at him once, then go right back to pressing into his shoulders.
After a moment of confusion, his body slowly relaxes under my ultimate shoulder-pressing technique. Seeing him accept the massage with a comfortable expression fills me with motivation. I start properly working his shoulders in rhythm.
Right. Left. Right. Left. Hup. Two. Hup. Two.
It’s important to spread the pads of my paws wide when pressing down. Counting the beat in my head and putting my weight into each press is essential. Since the patron’s shoulders are extremely broad, it’s also important to shift slightly to the right and left now and then.
Right. Left. Right. Left. Hup. Two. Hup. Two.
Press. Push. Press. Push.
Before I know it, I’m having so much fun that I get carried away, kneading enthusiastically. When I find a stiff spot, I focus on pressing it repeatedly, and a soft sigh slips from the patron’s mouth. Must feel great. There’s nothing I can’t do.
Press. Push. Press. Push.
I get completely absorbed in kneading, and when I finally come back to myself, my throat is rumbling with a loud gurrgurrgurr. I feel so good that my body’s gone all limp and cozy. Deciding this is dangerous, I pull my paws off his shoulders and flop down dramatically on top of the documents spread out in front of him.
Nyaaang—
Hey. My turn now.
As I wriggle my body and call out, the patron reaches for me. He brushes along my side, then gently scratches my belly, and it feels like I’m about to float straight up to heaven. I half-close my eyes and purr, and the patron returns it with a smiling squint. We really might be a match made in heaven—trading kneading and petting, building affection together. Even if he does turn into a terrifying mouth monster at night, well, that’s that…
I honestly don’t know how I would’ve lived if I’d never met this bastard.
Overcome with a fresh surge of emotion, I rub my head all over his hand.
“Your… Highness.”
The person who brought the documents trails off mid-sentence when they look at the desk. Calyx gestures for them to leave it on one side.
On the desk—right in front of Calyx—there’s a black cat sleeping soundly.
He’s not curled up into a ball like usual, nor is he lying flat on his stomach. He’s sprawled out shamelessly on his back, belly completely exposed. After kneading Calyx’s shoulders under the pretense of giving a massage, he promptly flopped over and demanded belly rubs. Since the cat normally shows nothing but aloofness to others, Calyx gently scratched the belly he allows only him to touch—and the cat promptly fell fast asleep, snoring softly.
