Best In Breed

by Marc Cabot

  "So they plotted and they schemed and they hired mercenaries and brought their deadliest, most able witches and they fell on the compound of the Breeders in the dark of the moon under spells of stealth and silence. Even sharp little catgirl ears..." He reached out and caressed one of hers gently. It twitched and a little shiver of pleasure ran through her head despite her disgust and anger and fear.

  "...Even sharp little catgirl ears didn't hear them coming until it was too late. They overran the compound and they killed all the Breeders and the Sisters would have put all of you to the sword but the mercenaries wouldn't let them. They had taken the job as much for catgirls as for silver. Some treasures are too pretty to spoil." He stroked the back of her head and this time the shiver reached her flesh. Feeling it, he laughed, not quite so nastily.

  After a moment he spoke again, though, and his voice dripped hate. "But they put the whole compound to the torch and all the records and all the rituals and all the secrets went up in sparks and smoke and the stink of burning meat. And the mercenaries did make you slaves like you were meant to be but you bred and you spread and when we freed the other slaves, the human slaves, you went along for the ride. Ironic. If it hadn't been for a bunch of men wanting you for their own slaves then you'd all be slaves now, happy slaves who'd rather die than be free."

  He paused, lost in thought, and her heart raced. What if... no, it can't be... it can't be...

  With a shake of his head he returned to the present. "And with the binding rituals lost the kittens grew up feral and thought they were human and so did everyone else. Without being bound you're as free-willed as any human."

  Again, the bitter laugh. "Almost as free as a real cat. But that can change. That can be changed. Why do you think I wanted you? You know Spotted Queens are rare." She tensed at the despised term. Catgirls didn't like being referred to as if they were... breeds. She hated it more than most.

  "Spotted Queens were meant to be... well, cats aren't pack animals but for want of a better term, alphas. To keep the rest in line, stop them squabbling like... cats." He laughed, this time with amusement and not bitterness.

  We are bigger and stronger and bossier and smarter and... no! It's all LIES! She tossed her head again, needing to deny but unable to speak, to reject. The fear spread a little further, icy tendrils of dread pricking all over her. Her tail-fur was standing up, stiff as a brush.

  "A bonded Queen will have almost irresistible dominance over other catgirls. Once I have you... you'll bring me as many more as I want. And they'll come quietly."

  This time she shuddered violently as he laughed. Even though she didn't... couldn't... believe him, the idea of him using her to draw in others, to capture them like she had been captured filled her with sick horror. Somehow it was worse than any fear she'd had for her own fate.

  "If it makes you feel any better, they'll be subordinate to you. They'll do almost anything you want." His eyebrows went up suggestively. "Doesn't that sound nice? Hmmmm? Hmm?"

  His meaning was unmistakable and strange feelings swirled in her head. Catgirls were often sort of indifferently bisexual - if they couldn't get a man, they'd take a woman, especially another catgirl. She'd done the usual experimentation before she buckled down to her studies and struggled to cut off all distraction. So many cold nights alone with her books... when she could have been with a man or another purring catgirl, warm and happy. What if she could have one whenever...

  NO! He's doing it to me again... telling me lies, trying to make me believe. He's a rapist and a kidnapper and a pervert and I am going to fucking KILL him!

  She lost track of what he was saying and doing while the internal conflict between fury and fear raged and made it impossible to think. When she could pay attention again he was saying something about sex and binding and how catgirls responded to it.

  "Oh, there's more to it than that... but surely you know how devoted catgirls can get to their boyfriends. Especially once they've sucked them off a few times. You didn't know it, but that was part of the binding ritual." He smiled at her. "Suck one off while your own juices are still on him, and you're halfway there. It doesn't last, but it activates all those hidden places in your brains that were meant to bond you to us."

  Angeline had grown up a catgirl in a poor neighborhood: she'd started having sex (voluntarily and with great enthusiasm) when she was fourteen years old. She had worked hard to keep her lust under control and make something of herself, but she was far from innocent. Her eyes widened as she remembered the bliss that flooded her when she had a boyfriend, when they were intimate... when she tasted herself on his cock, the tiny bristles on her tongue making him twitch and moan. How hard it was to stop once she started. Human girls like that too! Well, some of them...

  Did they?

  Or did they just do it because if they didn't catgirls would have even more of an advantage in competition for men? Catgirls were pretty, had to work at it to get fat, rarely got shrewish as they aged, and they almost all loved sex with the intensity of a man. If it wasn't for the fact that they didn't reproduce very fast, and had only female children, non-catgirls wouldn't get much attention from men at all.

  Which would explain why a sect of fanatical Goddess-worshippers who hated men would try to exterminate them and the men who'd created them. Just like he said.

  NO! It's... all... LIES!

  Again her desperate mental flailing distracted her from the reality around her. When she returned, grip somewhat restored, he was standing next to the table looking at the beaker.

  "I'm as certain as can be that this is going to work," he said as he stirred the slowly cooling mixture. "But you're completely mature and you've been feral for years."

  I am not FERAL! A spark of anger flared through the fear. I am not an ANIMAL! But he was looking at the glass container and didn't see her eyes flashing. The ember faded as he kept talking and the horror overwhelmed it again.

  "So it might take a little time and there might be some resistance. But in the end the blood will tell." Now he did look up at her and his smile made her heart fall into her guts with a cold splash. "Or I could be wrong. It's possible. And if that's the case, well, I'll just let you go. I'm not a murderer. I'm not even really a bad person. I'm just trying to... fix things." He gave her what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look. "You won't remember anything. If you go to the police they'll know you were given a topper, but I got it from a local supplier through a dead drop and the trail will end with him. Assuming they even bother."

  Despite the automatic wave of revulsion at the idea of being topped, this actually gave her some hope. His ridiculous story couldn't be true, and if he was telling the truth otherwise he'd give her a date-rape drug and let her go. She wanted to live and she'd been afraid that when his scheme didn't work he'd kill her to cover his tracks. But toppers wiped out every memory you had of the past twenty-four hours, and nothing could get them back. Since they were magically-based drugs, they worked just fine on catgirls. He might even do what he says.

  "I won't even rape you." He looked at her and licked his lips with a little grin. "Tempting as you are. No, if it doesn't work, you go your merry way, completely unharmed. Promise." She had shuddered again at the admission that he was tempted to rape her, but against all reason she actually believed him. The little bloom of hope grew stronger. If he would just get it over with...

  He held up the glass container, this time in his bare hand. "Yep, it's cool enough. You drink this without putting up a fuss, and if it doesn't work, you're free to go. On my honor as an alchemist." He sounded completely sincere. She couldn't believe she felt that way after what he'd done, but somehow, she did. "You saw me boil it, that would kill any diseases I might have. And the rest is just what I said. It's totally harmless. If you want I'll taste it first." He laughed. "I mean, I'm not really into that, but if it stops you spitting it all over me..." An inquiring look came over his face.

  Slowly, hatefully, she nodded. He shrugged, still smil
ing, and stirred the mixture with the glass rod. Then he slipped it into his mouth and pulled it out clean. He showed her there was some of the mixture in his mouth, and then swallowed dramatically. "All gone. Doesn't even taste bad. Sugar and spice, as they say." He winked at her and she surged against the bindings reflexively. He didn't need to be so patronizing about it.

  "My, my. Still a temper in there. This is twice as much as it takes, at least. I'm only going to give you half. If you spit it out, I'll run a tube down your nose and pour the rest into your stomach. You will not like that. Are you going to behave?" He sounded more amused than angry, but he also sounded like he was completely serious. She nodded briefly, still glaring.

  "Attagirl." He poured half the mixture into a plastic cup and lifted it to her lips. It pressed against the ring. "Down the hatch." The cup tilted slowly and the liquid started to fill her mouth.

  It really doesn't taste bad at all, she thought. She did briefly consider trying to spit it out, which would have been more drooling it out than anything, but she knew he was serious about the tube. Resignedly, she began to drink.

  The first swallow burned its way down quite pleasantly.

  She was more than a little surprised at how pleasantly. It tasted sweet and faintly spicy, just as he had said, but it went down like strong liquor. It was still warm, but not hot, and she swallowed more. His grin widened as she let the rest flow into her mouth and over her tongue, lips no longer straining against the ring.

  "Good, is it? I'm glad to see that." She paid him no mind. The stuff was actually quite delicious no matter what he might have put in it. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth, savoring the taste and trying to get it all down her throat. She felt like she had just had a rum-laced hot cocoa on a cold day and her stomach was delightfully warm. Even the tension from the bindings was greatly relieved by the gentle heat.

  A few more swallows and it was all gone. She looked at him with eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Wow, that stuff was nice. I almost wish I could remember this just so I could try to make it myself. This thought amused her and she felt her lips flex around the gag, trying to smile. No cloud without a silver lining. Something in the back of her head wondered how she had suddenly become so relaxed about the situation. After all, he was still going to drug her and he might be lying about raping and killing her anyway. But she found that she trusted him to honor his word. If he was going to hurt me, he would have just done it. He wouldn't have needed to make up all this bullshit. All the doubts were slowly draining away as the warmth seeped from her tummy out into her body.

  He set the cup down and then watched her with interest. "You look happier already. Feeling a little better about things now?" A moment ago his cheerful smile would have enraged her but now she just nodded slowly. She did feel better. He was being very nice to her, considering. Soon he'd let her go and this would all be a memory. And then it wouldn't even be that.

  Her forehead crinkled almost imperceptibly, the spots shifting ever so slightly. He'll let me go... and I'll never see him again. That should have made her happy, but a little burst of regret puzzled her briefly. He did kidnap me... and tie me up... and make me drink God knows what... but he hasn't been cruel to me or anything. He could have raped me or tortured me or anything he wanted, but he didn't.

  As she had this thought a brief vision of him between her legs, sliding his cock into her, flashed through her mind.

  It didn't terrify or disgust her. It just made the heat in her belly burn a little hotter... And then it started to slide lower. Her thoughts were distracting her: she didn't really notice that part. But it happened all the same. Her hips shifted in the chair.

  What am I thinking? She forced herself back to the real world. Another little burst of regret hit her as the image faded.

  His deep blue eyes were focused on her so intensely she started when her attention came back to the here and now. I can't really blame him for doing this... I mean, if this is what catgirls are for, then it's only natural...

  NO!

  She shook her head desperately, which made him jump. This is all just me being afraid he's telling the truth. I'm psyching myself out. It's all lies!

  "You all right? That was a pretty big twitch just then. I'm going to take the gag off. If you try to bite me, it will be unpleasant for you. Do you understand?" He looked at her warily, but she just nodded.

  He put one hand in her hair and got a firm grip. He wasn't yanking, but he had control of her head. If she tried to bite he could hold her back with ease. As his other hand came around to the buckle for the gag a deep, delicious shudder ran down her spine. He has control of me... he can do anything he wants. There was still fear there, but somehow the pulling on her hair wasn't hurting her. The warmth in her belly surged again and her thighs tightened of their own volition.

  It took some doing to get the gag undone without tangling it further in her hair, but he had nimble fingers...

  Strong clever hands...

  ... And shortly it was free. He removed it, and then carefully released her hair. When he was no longer touching her, that odd sense of regret grew sharper.

  She worked her jaw for several seconds, licking her dry lips, and he continued to observe carefully. There were a few traces of the liquid on her mouth and she sucked at it greedily. When it was all gone she looked at him and spoke hesitantly.

  "I did what you wanted. Please let me go now." The quaver in her voice wasn't all fear. Part of her was not happy with asking that. Not happy at all.

  "Oh, not just yet." He was watching her very closely. "It might take a while to work. Believe it or not, it's only been about six hours since... we met. The topper will wipe a whole day. You have nothing to worry about. One way or another." He winked at her. Angeline tried to be angry... and found she couldn't do it.

  To cover her growing congeniality she said, "Can I have some more water please?" He nodded and got the water cup from where he'd set it down. A considering look went across his face as he walked to her. Then he smiled faintly and put his hand behind her head, helping her lift it. She thought about trying to bite him but it was only a distant fancy, and the touch of his hand sent warmth through her scalp. The cup was held up to her lips and this time she drank normally.

  When it was gone she said, "Thank you, sir." Then her eyes widened. Sir? Why did I...

  "You're welcome, Angeline." His grin was infectious and she smiled back at him. "I looked in your bag, if you're wondering how I knew your name. Don't worry, I didn't take anything. And I was wearing gloves."

  She kept smiling, no longer thinking about why she shouldn't. "That was clever of you, sir. You're really good at this. Have you kidnapped a lot of people?" She meant it to be cutting, but it just came out as a simple, curious question. The sound of her name on his lips had sent a gentle buzz through her mind.

  "No, no I haven't," he said with a bemused laugh. "You're the first. But I did plan it out for a long time. My friend... he's been dead for more than three years." The bitterness returned to his eyes. "I had to make sure they didn't notice me doing anything unusual for a while."

  The pain in his face made her want to cry. "Don't feel bad, sir. It wasn't your fault." Despite everything she somehow wanted to comfort him. I wish I was loose so I could give him a hug. The image of his strong arms wrapped around her sent a delicious shudder through her and her eyes closed for a moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a tiny little sense that she shouldn't feel this way, but it was getting weaker moment by moment.

  "Thank you, Angeline." He looked at her with pleasure and the tension in his face eased. Her heart lifted at his smile. "You seem to be a lot more worried about how I feel than you did a while ago. How are you feeling?"

  Angeline thought about this for a moment. "I feel... fine. For some reason it seems like I should be upset about something but I'm not. I would like it if you'd let me out of this so I could give you a hug." She looked at him hopefully. "I'll be good, sir, I promise."

>   The man reached out and stroked her face, deliberately putting his hands on her cheek near soft lips that concealed sharp teeth. She tentatively pushed her face into the caress and the sensation of his skin on hers sent another stronger wave of heat through her. Her expression went slack at the pleasure of his touch.

  "All right," he said, after she made no move to bite or resist. "I should warn you that the door of this room is alchemically sealed. If anyone but me opens it, something... unpleasant... will happen to them. Understood?"

  She nodded, eyes huge. "Oh, no, sir! I wouldn't... I don't..." Her voice trailed off. "I mean, I just want to give you a hug. You're so sad."

  A look of wonder crossed his face. "It worked. It really did. You... you want to comfort me, don't you?"

  The nod was completely sincere. Her lips were pursed with sympathy. "Yes, sir. I feel so bad for you."

  He reached for the straps and gently undid them. As each limb came free she stretched it and a delicious tension went through it and then dissolved. That feels so good... Once the last one was undone, she lowered her feet lightly to the floor and stood. He was at the side of the chair device, and she turned to him.

  "Can I hug you, sir?" She didn't want to touch him without asking for some reason.

  The look on his face filled her with light. "Yes, but... your clothes are over there." He nodded toward another small table in the corner of the room. "Do you want them?"

  "No." She no longer even questioned it. She threw her arms around him and squeezed, breathing deeply. The scent of him filled her and made her knees weak. He felt so... big. Strong. Solid. His presence was making her dizzy.