A Tail from the Wilds [reupload]

A Tail from the Wilds
(M Human x Catgirl, Shadowrun setting, vaginal, anal)

Miles Esbarn, better known as ‘Ole Deadeye’ to the community, was sitting in his favorite dive where he liked to kill some time whenever he came back to the ‘city’, enjoying a drink and catching up with the news of what had happened in the rest of the country and world while he was away. A trapper by trade, he spent most of his time in the wilds, hunting barghests, hell hounds and other nasty Sixth World critters that preyed on the precious livestock. Between the reward offered for each head, the bonuses he got from happy farmers, the price of the furs from his kills and the money from the occasional live young he could catch and sell to a handler for training; he lived an at times rough and dangerous but ultimately fulfilling life roaming the wilds and hunting, only getting back to civilization whenever he needed supplies or felt the need for some human contact.

So far, this had been a pretty uneventful trip: the fur trader he usually did business with had taken his pelts without much discussion (Miles knew the man would sell them further at least five times what he’d bought them; natural fur being in high demand for clothing amongst the high and mighty, but he didn’t care), and the general store manager would need a few days to get everything he needed to get back out to his cabin in the wilds. So far, no one had approached him to deal with a specific critter or problem, but this didn’t really surprise him as it wasn’t calving season yet. None of his old-time part-fellows, part-rivals was in town at the moment, so he had no rugged comrade to swap stories with, and he didn't felt like spending the nuyen on paid company, so he just enjoyed the trappings of civilization for the evening.

Miles was halfway through his third glass and was starting to feel warm and slightly buzzed when the girl walked in. "Now there's a nice piece of tail," he mumbled into his drink as he caught sight of her,  and he meant it both literally and figuratively, since on top of being good-looking, the girl sported a real tail, long and fuzzy like a cat’s. The tail wasn’t the most obvious reminder of a cat, though. On top of that she sported a pair of cat’s ears, her hair’s bizarre coloration reminded him of a tortoiseshell’s fur, odd eyes; one blue, one red, with slit pupils like a cat’s and overdeveloped canines.

Beyond these obvious feline features, the young woman looked definitely human, rather short but with nice curves. She was wearing enough to be decent, but not by much:  boots that came up to her well-muscled thighs, a top that covered her chest but left her midriff and arms bare, and a pair of shorts that almost reached her knees but was tight enough to accentuate her shape and rode low enough to let her tail free. Her outfit was covered with an array of chains and other metal adornments that clinked whenever she moved, and the whole look reminded Miles of the punk-rock bands he’d listened to in his youth.

And yet, for all she was an attractive-looking young female entering a bar, the storm brewing in her odd-colored eyes and aggressive stance caused the rest of the room to pretty much pretend she simply wasn't there, the prominently worn holster carrying a huge pistol at her hip and the long hunting knife’s handle protruding from her boot helping with that.

The cat girl strode over to the bar, sat down and ordered something; Miles didn’t hear what. He simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. He knew there were people that paid money to get their appearance surgically modified like that, but he guessed, no, he *knew* with absolute certainty it wasn’t the case here. Miles had dealt with wild and tamed animals all his life, and there was something in the girl’s behavior that was simply too animalistic to be an affectation, a learned behavior. No, she was one of the poor souls either born that way or that had mutated later in life when magic suddenly decided it was high time for a major restructuration of their genetic code whether they wanted it or not. The greater influx of such ‘freaks’ had been back in 2061, when the passage of the Halley comet caused some impressive havoc with the magic permeating Earth’s atmosphere, but such spontaneous mutations still happened a dozen years later with nobody being able to predict it or determine why it happened.

The girl took her drink and looked up, noticing that Miles was about the only one in the bar not doing their best to ignore her. Her lips curled way back and she opened her mouth a bit, showing her bright teeth and prominent canines in a menacing snarl and Miles could almost hear the hiss that should come with that expression. Yes, the girl was literally part cat, and clearly that part of her was conflicting with the human part of her.

Luckily, Miles knew how to handle such a challenge. Purposefully, he held her gaze and bared his own teeth, letting out a soft, almost inaudible growl, a clear warning he wasn’t seeking battle but wouldn’t back down if attacked. Miles had stared more than one wild critter he had no intention to kill into seeking prey elsewhere that way, and he was pretty certain it would work just as well here.

As he expected, the girl’s snarl lessened a little and her eyes narrowed somewhat. She seemed surprised, which was reasonable, for it was unlikely any human had ever responded to her instinctive show of aggression with anything but a bowed head or harsh words rather than a simple and much more effective -don’t push it, kiddo!- attitude. Humans for the most part simply sucked at non-verbal communication, Miles mused. (Or any form of communication period, think of it!)

Slowly, purposefully, Miles held her gaze as he reached for his drink and ostensibly finished it, before waving the bartender over and turning away from her to order another round, before turning back to keeping an eye on the screens for anything interesting.



He was halfway through his drink when he saw the young catwoman get up and make her way over to him from the corner of his peripheral vision. Miles purposefully chose not to take notice until she was standing next to him, arms crossed over her chest, lips pulled back in a feral grin and tail flicking slowly behind her. Ignoring her for a moment longer, he waited until she uttered a low rumble in her throat before looking away from the screen and slowly, almost disinterestedly met her stare, acting as if her presence was beneath his notice.

Her blue left eye was iced as permafrost while her other eye glowered like molten lava. "Explain yourself." She snarled softly but clearly, almost as an epithet, “what is it you wish?” Her breathing was heavy but still controlled as if her body was already preparing for a fight.

Miles merely shrugged. "You looked like you were having a rough day, girl.” He said, “I thought pointing out you should calm down might help."

"What do you mean?" Her nose crinkled up when she hissed her answer at him, her lips pulling back leaving her sharp teeth quite visible.

Miles then did something rather stupid, whether due to the alcohol or simply being tired of the girl’s attitude, and reached up to flick her on the nose. “You’ve entered here spoiling for a fight, girl, or at least acting like you were. That’s really not a smart move…”

Of course, the physical contact and prick of pain didn’t do anything to calm her down, quite the contrary, and she reared her head to let out a terrifying yowl of rage as sharp and dangerous-looking retractile claws slid out from… somewhere in her fingers. The bar’s atmosphere immediately turned into the pregnant silence of a crowd sensing violence was about to break out, and Miles could see the bartender’s arm discreetly reach underneath his bar where he knew the man kept a sawed-off shotgun. There probably wasn't a single carrying person in the room that wasn’t reaching for his weapon or switching the safety off, and Miles knew he had one last chance to stop things from blowing up.

The girl looked at him with a gaze that could kill stronger men, so full of anger and animalistic rage it was, but before she could pounce and tear his throat out Miles continued. “There are at least seven people going for their gun right now, girl, so scared have they been of you since you entered this joint.” He said in a casual, completely unconcerned tone, “Raise those claws of yours, and you won’t live long enough to slash at me.”

For a moment, time froze. The last part was something of a bluff, there was a big chance she could severely hurt him before anyone intervened, but Miles’ supremely confident attitude gave her pause. He could see a mix of hate, fear, surprise and sadness flash across her face; caught between the animalistic urge to strike at him and her human part telling her to back down. Finally, backing down won out and she sat down next to him, looking sullenly at the bar top, ignoring the collective sigh of relief from the other patrons as they removed their hands from their weapons and went back to whatever business they were engaged in before the face-off.

“I… don’t want to fight…” she whispered in a tiny voice, as if she was trying to convince herself more than anything else. Which she probably was, Miles mused, at least, the part of her that is cat.  “I’m not a damn monster, I’m still human…” she continued, and not really knowing what to say, Miles waved the bartender over and gestured vaguely at the girl. With that uncanny flair tenders developed over the years he understood his vague gesture and poured the girl another helping of whatever she'd been drinking. She looked up, squinted her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and downing the drink in a couple of deep gulps.

Finally, she looked up, and her left eye's bright blue hue skewered Miles. “Why did you help me?” she asked in a clear voice, evidently more in control of herself than moments before, “How did you know how to help me?”

The question took Miles a bit by surprise, but then again, while appearing outwardly perfectly calm and in control, he was still feeling relieved that his textbook stupid idea hadn’t ended into a bar brawl or worse. Not wanting to tempt fate (and his own stupid streak) further, he stood up and answered, "Come with me if you want to find out." Fishing a credstick out of his pocket, he discreetly told the bartender he'd pay for the girl's tab and briefly interfaced with the bar's network to payed for both their drinks, then turned on the spot and left.




Moments later, Miles was making his way back to the small apartment he rented and called ‘home’ while he was in town with complete tunnel vision, totally unaware if the girl had taken him on his offer and followed him out of the bar. Moments later, he was broken out of his ignorance by the click of boots and the clinking of metal. Turning around, he found the girl just behind him, her alien beauty somehow even sharper in the soft moonlight. A solid foot shorter than him, looking straight ahead, her ears perked up and forward, she strode with purpose after him.

They walked in silence for a minute before Miles spoke up: "So, curiosity got the best of you?"

She grinned back at him, fangs showing but in a human gesture of mirth and not animal one of hostility. "I heard it killed the cat.” She answered, laughing softly, “I hope it is a worthier opponent than a weak old man that backs off from a challenge."

Miles let out a snort of mirth, but didn't rise to her taunt. With the coldness of the night hitting him and reinforcing the effect of the alcohol he’d drunk, he had more and more trouble staying focused on what he was doing, his mind slowly being consumed with the need to spend the night with this ridiculously attractive young cat. Her hair looked so soft, he wanted to bury his face in it, trace every striation with his fingers, grab her slowly swaying tail up in his hand and stroke it while he...

Shaking his head clear of his base thoughts, het turned back to the present as they arrived at the main door of the building housing Miles’ apartment. Leading the way up to the second floor, he opened the door and stood aside and looked his young companion over. She was smirking, clearly confident in herself once again.  The young cat (God, did he really not even ask her name?) walked through his door as though *she* owned the place, like it was hers to begin with. She had an air of assertiveness totally unlike the droop-eared kitten that had bemoaned her nature a handful of minutes before, and also different from the angry feline who had blustered into the bar and into his world seeking trouble.

In short, she was once more acting like a cat, behaving like she was the boss wherever she went and deigning to tolerate any human having the gall to be present, just like the average tame feline would. Miles knew he was going to have to do something about that, something drastic before he exploded. It really didn’t help that the young woman’s disdainful behavior aroused him just as much as it infuriated him.

Following her in, Miles kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed his guest by the shoulder to spin her around and have her face him, intending to give her a piece of his mind about basic manners. But the alcohol made him clumsy and he pulled with more strength than he both intended and needed and the girl ended up on landing her behind.

Her eyes came unfocused for just a second as her mind caught up with what had just happened, but then she was back in control of herself and got back up, hissing, tail waving wildly, hair and fluffy fur of her tail rising, claws once more sliding out and glinting menacingly. She was snarling and spewing insults, and she fucking meant it this time.

Cursing his stupidity once more, Miles knew he had to end the fight before it even started if he didn’t want to have to beat the girl unconscious, something that despite his reputation as cold, tough guy, he didn’t have the stomach for. As she finished standing up, Miles grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and squeezed, none too gently but not too forcefully either like he’d do with an unruly house cat, shoving her back against a wall. Part of him stupidly marveled at how soft her hair felt under his fingers, silky just like a cat’s coat.

"What," she gasped. "What is wrong with you?" Her breathing was a little raspy, but the casual gesture of dominance clearly helped with pushing back the animal urge to fight and keeping her human part in control, albeit barely.

"What is wrong with me?" Miles repeated in his best attempt at a sultry voice with the wickedest grin he could muster, "I have a barely weaned whelp here who thinks she can walk into my turf without so much as a word of respect as if she owned the damn place. *That* is what is wrong with me, kit."

Her eyes grew wide and for a short moment she simply remained immobile, looking at him. Miles didn’t dare to twitch himself, still hoping he’d managed to convey he didn’t wanted to fight her. But his hope was forlorn as her eyes narrowed suddenly as she decided to try and free herself, snarling and clawing at him.

Miles let out a sharp hiss of pain as one of her hands managed to strike him, her claws ripping through the cloth of his shirt and digging in the meat of his arm. Twisting away from her fangs, Miles got a hold on her other arm before she could strike at his face and pressed forward. He knew backing up was a bad idea, and that with her “free” arm currently busy scratching his biceps, he had an opportunity. Bigger and heavier than her, he used his free arm to leverage her around and forced her down by pushing the back of her knee with his own.

Snarling, she fell to her knees as her leg gave way and as her finger's built-in daggers painfully lost their hold on his arm, he took the opportunity to seize her other arm, one big hand holding both her wrists while his other pushed down on the base of her neck, preventing her to rise again. Little trickles of blood ran from the punctures her claws had made as she struggled vainly against his grip, meowing furiously as she looked up at him.

Miles swallowed as he looked down and held her defiant gaze. Even if he had managed to keep his visage under control, his body would have betrayed him as his pants started to bulge out, utterly unable to hide how much the whole situation excited him. How much seeing the young cat girl subdued on her knees in front of him, face smeared by his own blood as she struggled vainly against his grasp aroused him. She saw it and he saw her understand what he wanted: her expression told of her fear, anger, vulnerability and strength that refused her to give in. Her desires and thoughts: to break down and cry, to submit, to fight, to struggle, to simply leave, to hurt him and kill him or to simply fuck him; all flashed over her visage in quick succession, as if she simply couldn’t pick one.

Miles made up her mind for her.

Pulling her up, Miles grabbed her around her slim waist, throwing her over his shoulder and pinning her arms to her side and bodily dragged her to his bedroom. She kicked and struggled futilely and cried out with a mix of howls and hisses of protest, but while she wriggled mightily against his strong grasp, her claws didn’t came back out nor did she try to bite him. Quickly crossing the small apartment, Miles threw her onto the bed, catching the hint of a smile on her face as he did so. She’d seemingly finally realized this was but a rough game, and seemed willing to play. Clearly, at least the cat part of her had understood this was just a male’s show of strength to prove his suitability and that Miles didn’t intend her any harm.

Grabbing the girl by her ankles, Miles dragged her towards the edge of the bed and flipped her onto her stomach, then did what he’d wanted to do and reached out to grab her tail, pulling lightly on the appendage as he let it glide through his fingers. The girl immediately ceased to struggle, shivering and purring softly in between mewling sounds as she quivered gently under his touch. Miles grinned: she was clearly sufficiently cat that touching her fluffy tail was as pleasant for her as it was for him, and on top of that she was most certainly afraid of what would happen if she struggled and he ended up pulling too forcefully. The young cat girl clearly didn’t want to experience getting the appendage at the end of her spinal column sprained or dislocated. Not that Miles had any *intention* to do so, of course, but he was glad for her ceasing to struggle, having done enough stupid things tonight already.

Using his free hand, he hoisted her ass up into the air and deftly pulled her pair of shorts down, revealing her most secret parts to him. A slightly musky aroma filled the room as Miles bared her, reminding him of the aroma of a wildcat in heat, and she mewled more urgently, squirming. Her pink slit shone with wetness, and her pert butt with her tight tailhole was finally revealed to his hungry sight.

Miles was harder than he’d ever been. A solid ass man, the vision of that pale, soft butt with the backdoor being highlighted by a fluffy tail excited him even further. Momentarily letting go of her tails, he quickly removed his shirt and pants, his erection finally springing free instead of straining almost painfully against cloth.

The young woman started to squirm restlessly the moment he released her tail, so Miles slapped her bare ass, his open palm smacking her flesh with a loud thud. "Stay still, you unruly kit!" he ordered playfully, but she snarled in defiance and began moving away again, her instinct clearly telling her to resume the fight since the male was wasting both their time. Grabbing her tail once more, Miles reached down with his free hand and drew her knife from her boot, deftly sliding the blade between her top and shoulders and cutting her remaining clothing away.

“Stay still!” Miles repeated, as he pulled ever so slightly more forcefully on her tail while tapping on her shoulder with the flat of the blade, the threat implicit but still being really careful not to actually hurt her. She kept snarling but stopped moving, her growl turning into a whine as she fought to remain still as he ordered rather than lean back to ease the pain in her tail.

Throwing the knife away, Miles slapped her ass a couple of times more, enjoying hearing the girl’s whine turn to a deep purr at the loud but gentle spanking. Unable to keep himself in check any longer, he slowly pushed his cock into her, her purr deepening and getting louder as he did. She was extremely tight, yet wet enough with arousal that Miles could slide inside with ease and he groaned at the incredible feeling. Her vaginal walls contracted around him, massaging his member as he pushed deep into her until he hilted himself and his hips bumped against her butt.

Gripping her hips, he pulled back slowly then buried himself into her a second time just as slowly, deeply enjoying the sensation of her body reacting to his intrusion. Pulling back a second time, he backed all the way out and looked down at his head popping out of her and her slit winking quickly shut, at his cock glistened with her juices.

Miles stayed immobile for a short moment, but felt like an age to him as he considered he was taking the young catgirl for his own pleasure. Rarely, and not since a very long time hade he bedded a girl this young, and never in such a domineering manner. Even more arousing to him, she now willingly submitted, neither struggling nor protesting anymore, merely letting out a resounding purr of happiness despite, or maybe because, of his roughness. Just like a cat.

He enjoyed this.

Contrarily to everything he’d expected; the power, the domination he held over the girl made him giddy in a way no alcohol ever could and he enjoyed this, the sharp sting of the still bleeding claw marks in his arm making the whole even more pleasurable.
After his short moment of introspection, Miles plunged forward again, with more strength and speed, eliciting a yelp from the girl at the more brutal penetration and him slapping up against her. Reaching forward with one hand, he started playing with her breasts, kneading and massaging the soft mounds with vigor.

In answer, the girl began bucking her hips in rhythm with his thrusts, their thighs loudly smacking together over and over as Miles fucked her with abandon. She was yowling and bucking wildly against him, driven by nothing but the animalistic need to get him deeper, her tight slit practically milking his shaft. The suction was simply incredible and Miles knew he would never last long under such intense conditions.

Smacked her ass again and making her buttcheeks jiggle; he moved his hand and pushed his thumb against her anus. The girl growled at the unfamiliar sensation, but Miles released her breasts to grab her by the scruff of her neck once more, shutting her back up immediately.

"You're fucking mine, Kit!" Miles growled and she mewled in acquiescence. As he continued to pound madly into the wild cat, he could feel his orgasm approaching and pushed harder into her tailhole with his thumb, the tight entry slowly yielding to his probing finger, her muscles reacting to the intrusion by squeezing around it until it was buried to the knuckle in her tight asshole.

Yowling loudly at the unfamiliar feeling, the girl squirmed madly beneath him. The sensation was incredible, her vaginal walls rippling along the length of his shaft, assaulting his whole length and drawing Miles’ orgasm out. A wave of ecstasy overwhelmed him and het thrusted one final time forcefully inside the girl, his member pulsating and releasing shot after shot of seed deep inside her welcoming folds, sending her to her own climax. She shuddered, her cunt contracting and pulsing around his still-twitching cock, her asshole squeezing tight around his thumb as she arced her back and let out a deafening howl of pure ecstasy.
Miles’ vision blurred and turned pure white, and he remained completely still but for the shivers running up his spine for a moment, still inside the young cat that panted heavily beneath him, drooling and with her little pink tongue sticking out of her mouth. Turning her head, she looked back at him, the clear gaze of her odd stare no longer full of real or hormone-induced anger, but blurred and sated.

Smiling, Miles purred at her, or at least tried to, and it made her giggle then laugh, the sound surprisingly clear as he finally pulled out of her, their mingled juices dripping out of her as he did so. Exhausted, she laid back with a long sigh, curling up on the bed in a contented ball. Miles let his gaze roam over her naked body. He could go for another round given a moment to recover, but the girl clearly had enough with one; and for all his rough and domineering approach he didn’t want to force her against her will. As he laid down into bed with her and snuggled up against her backside, cradling her in his arms to her resounding purrs of satisfaction, he wondered how unfathomable this girl was. She had gone from angry enough to pick a fight with total strangers, to confused, to happy and carefree, to enraged, to sexy vixen straight out of a wet dream to finally calm and contentedly sleepy, all under the span of a couple of hours.

As he felt her relax and snuggle up against him, still purring as she fell asleep, Miles realized she was lost and much more vulnerable than she tried to pass of and he felt an unexpected feeling of compassion well up from deep within him. No regrets for what he’d just done, no, that had been one of the most terrific nights in his life, but he knew he couldn’t simply kick her out came morning. Hard he was, a bastard he was not. As he fell asleep in turn, hugging her close to share his warmth with the girl, he was wondering how he’d deal with his inhabitual bout of care.




Miles awoke the next morning, sticky, sweaty and smelly. The small bedroom reeked of sex (not that it really bothered him) but he was alone and he wondered if the young kitten had scampered off with a bad case of Morning After Regrets. Stretching, Miles hissed in pain as his arm lanced him, having become rather intimate with the girl’s claws the day before. Still, he smiled at the memories of the previous night.

After a moment, he realized the shower was running and got up. At the sight that greeted him when entering the small bathroom he could do nothing but gawp stupidly. No sane heterosexual man can resist the sight of a pretty woman in the shower. The beads of water acting like small jewels, flashing and sparkling just in all the right places. Little rivulets of water conspiring with gravity to highlight her curves, accentuating them and drawing the eye to her private parts, her wet hair practically gleaming. On top of that, this particular woman mixed sensuality with the looks of a wet cat. Scrawny, scruffy and pitiful on top of deadly and sexy; the combination destroying any hope Miles had to think rationally.

She heard him gasp and turned to look at him. "A problem?" she asked.

Miles just smiled, shaking his head. "No, Kit. No problem.” He replied. “None at all…" as he stepped into the shower behind her, the small size of the cubicle forcing him to prop himself against her.

The hot water surrounded them, running over their bodies, and she purred as she could feel how exited she made him. Looking at him over her shoulder, the gaze of her blue eye pierced him. "I like it when you call me that," she said.

"Call you what?" Miles replied mischievously.

Growling, she grinned, looking deep inside his soul with her crystal-clear gaze. "Kit. I like it when you call me 'Kit'." She answered in a demure voice.

Miles’ member twitched at hearing her words and their implied submission, the arousal he’d been struggling to keep in check immediately breaking its bonds. Pushing his hips forward he grinded against her as, feeling the wet skin of her backdoor with his male member. In answer, she growled and leaned forward, placing her paws against the shower wall, lifting her tail and causing her buttcheeks to spread. "Please," she mewed, "don't be gentle."

That was all the invitation Miles needed. Squirming to position himself at her back end, he enlaced her with one arm and started to stroke her lower lips with his fingers then started pushing forward, groaning as he watched her asshole open up and engulf his swollen head. Miles knew it had to be hurting her even with him doing his best to distract her with his hand, but she didn't utter a single sound, merely bending over as much as she could in the cramped confines of the cubicle.

As he slowly pushed in further, he started fingering her vigorously, enjoying the feeling of her folds and anus clenching around his fingers and shaft. She let out a slow hiss, trying to relax before wrapping her tail around his waist, the soft fur tickling the small of his back. "More!" she growled urgently. "Take your Kit! Take me!"

"Careful what you wish for, Kit!” Miles whispered before driving home, burying his member up to the hilt in her tight hole as he clenched with his fingers. The girl yowled with pain but did not pull away, merely bucking her hips back even more, panting, her claws drawing grooves in the plastic wall of the cubicle.

Miles grabbed her hips with his free hand, holding her in place and pulling her back into him with each thrust forward as he began to move with shallow sliding movements while with the thumb of his other hand he started caressing her sensitive pearl directly.

Shuddering with intense pleasure as her anus massaged the length of him, he once more addressed her. "You like that, Kit?” he whispered, “You like getting your tailhole pounded? You like being fucked in the ass by a...weak...old…man?" He drew the last three words out in a voice that dripped with lust and sarcasm, unable to resist taunting her with what she’d dared call him to his face yesterday.

Amidst her squeals and gasps of pleasure and pain, she managed to let out a soft "Yes!"

Releasing her hip, Miles smacked her butt as he drove himself deep once more. "The fuck did you say?” He asked playfully. “I can’t fucking hear you."

"Yes!" she hissed again, more forcefully this time.

Once more grabbing her hip, Miles thrusted more forcefully, flesh smacking against flesh as he plowed her hard. She was so tight, he knew he wouldn’t last very long, but he couldn’t restrain himself to add: "Is that how you fucking should address me? Show some damn respect to your betters, Kit."

She cried out, both in pain and pleasure and mewled incoherently. "Yes…  God, ah…I… I like it when you’re rough with me… I… I like it… when you fuck me hard!” She eventually managed to answer. “Harder! Aah… Harder, please! Harder!"

Her soft begging made him lose it completely and Miles began humping furiously, one hand pulling on her hip while the other stirred her folds as hard as he could. Shivering uncontrollably, she quickly threw her head backward and yowled deafeningly as she orgasmed, the fiery mix of pain and pleasure assaulting her finally overwhelming her.

The incredible clamping of her ass on his shaft and folds on his fingers pushed Miles to his climax as well, and he grunted and shuddered with pleasure like he had experienced only few times before as her clenching hole coaxing blast after blast of seed out of him, packing her rectum to the brim.

As his orgasm died down he pulled out of her, twitching each time her still tight rear clamped around his now overly sensitive cock. Miles gasped as his head popped out of her and as he unclenched his hand from her hip, he noticed the beginnings of bruises, so hard had he been gripping and pounding her. It was a level of roughness higher than his usual, and yet the girl hadn’t protested in the slightest. Stupidly, he considered it must be her cat nature, as feline matings included their lot of “mock” fighting where the male had to beat the female into submission.

After remaining still, hunched over and moaning softly for a long moment, she slowly straightened up and turned around to face him. Miles simply took her in, his eyes devouring her, his guilty pleasure at what they’d just done evident on his visage as they allowed the water to wash away the aftermath of what they just did from their bodies.

Standing up on her toes she kissed him, their mouths opening and tongues locking, her gaze again cutting into his soul, surprising him with her total acceptance of his rudeness. As he expected, her tongue was raspy as they explored and tasted each other. She was careful to keep her mouth open, but he still eventually nicked his probing tongue on one of her sharp canines anyway. She felt it and began to pull away, but Miles grabbed the back of her head and invaded her mouth even harder, deepening their kiss, forcing her to taste his blood as she mewled in his mouth. He didn’t care she had fangs, he didn’t want to be careful because she had, he wasn’t afraid of a bit of pain if he wasn’t careful but enjoyed her exactly like he wanted; and he wanted her to know it!

Finally, short of breath, he released her and she stood back, still looking a little goofy as a wet cat does and Miles smiled at her.

"I have a request." she said demurely after catching her breath.

Miles had no idea what she could be about to ask, so he simply nodded.

"Allow me to come with you."

Legitimately confused, Miles only blinked at her at first, taken completely aback by the utterly unexpected request.

"Allow me to accompany you.” She continued, mistaking his silence and dumbfounded expression for a lack of understanding, “Allow me to stay with you… please! I know you’re a trapper, a hunter; I can help you find prey if nothing else. Believe it or not, I’m a pretty good hunter myself. I had to, after becoming this."

Miles hesitated. He wasn’t against it, far from it, but he simply couldn’t understand why she would want to accompany him. She barely knew him. So he eventually asked her. “Why would you want to throw your lot in with me, Kit?”

“Because…” she whispered, as she hugged him and rested her head against his chest. “Because you don’t treat me like a monster. You protected me from what I am and you didn’t pull back when I clawed you or nicked you with my teeth, but treated me like a woman instead of rejecting me like a beast. Please…”

She looked up at him, ears up and alert, hope and fear of rejection warring in her odd gaze, waiting nervously for an answer. Miles sighed as the implications of what the girl asked sunk in. Maybe it would be nice to have a permanent companion in his lonely profession, after all. At the very least, it'd be a hell of a lot of fun while it lasted considering how wild she was.

“All right, Kit.” He smiled at her as he hugged her closer, unable to resist her gaze that stabbed him straight through the heart deeper than her claws ever could, just like her vulnerable abandonment had done the night before, “You can accompany me. But at least tell me your name.”

"I do not have one.” She whispered in relief, “I do not need one. I am your kit, which is all that matters."

“The hell are you saying, you don’t have one?” he rumbled.

“I don’t. ‘Ole Deadeye’ isn’t your given name, is it?” she whispered, “You earned it, did you not?”

“Well, yes…” he eventually answered, “I earned it years ago because I’m a very good shot with guns, as unsurprising as it sounds, and survived in this biz for a long time. But I still have my given name.” Even if it was true that, after all these years, he reacted one hell of a lot faster to ‘Ole Deadeye’ than ‘Mr. Miles Esbarn’.

“Mine belonged to a girl that no longer exists…” she whispered, ears drooping in dejection, “this is what I am now. A lost kitten…”

“You just got adopted, Kit!” Miles whispered, enjoying feeling her shiver against him at his words. “And, while you wait to earn yourself a name, you’re sure you’re okay with Kit?”

“Yes…” she whispered, still trembling with relief, “coming from you it’s praise, not an insult. Thank you…”