Nala, of Lion King fame... ...There he stood, sharpening his long, smooth, folded-steel machete.

There she stood, licking her lips, looking first at him, and then down at the ground demurely.

“Give it to me!”

“Never!” She sprang from the warm rock with a derisive snort and flick of her tail. Her pace quickened as she bounded into the tall grass, her paws finding, gripping and rebounding rapidly from the firm soil. She could hear him clumsily pushing the tall grass aside in an attempt to join the chase. Escape would hardly be a challenge, but would escape be the most fun? Her thoughts drifted and her pace slowed a little.

She found herself thinking of the rainy season. Six months ago, but the memories were still vivid and sharp, wet and slick — bitter… and sweet. They’d first met six months ago. She had run and he had chased, just like today — but back then she had slipped and he had caught her. Writhing in the wet, slippery glass of the savannah, his grip too strong even for her savage muscles, he had made her his bitch.

The reverie almost caused her to slip and fall. She could hear him gaining, gathering speed, the tell-tale swish of machete clearing a path for his clumsy human footfalls. Would it be so awful if he caught her again? Her pace faltered, complex thought not coming easily to her prehensile, feline brain — humans have it easy — just two legs! How am I meant to push my way through tall grass and think of him? She found herself plunged back into the six-month-old memory.

First he had tackled her to the ground. They had slid and bounced a few feet, only stopping when the limited friction of the wet grass and ground had finally gripped them. Then he was on top of her, wrestling her arms down until she was spread and pinned. The bulk of his weight and strength of his thighs were expertly employed to hold her hips firmly against the ground. That was when they had made eye-contact for the first time. He looked vicious, his muscles and veins bulging, the throbbing pulse of his carotid artery clearly visible. There was a hint of shining victory in his eyes, but she knew the fight wasn’t yet over. He leaned down until his face was almost level with hers, until they could both feel and taste and smell each other’s ragged breathing. Before she knew it, he had pulled a length of rope from his waist and had begun to tie her paws together. Before she knew it, he had turned her over and lifted her hind legs.

She was shocked back into real time by the sinewy weight of the man throwing himself upon her. She didn’t struggle as he quickly flipped her onto her back. He took a long, hard look at his catch and smiled.

* * *

Forgive me, for I have sinned. I wrote this all in one go, without any planning. It just… sprung from… somewhere deep within.  There’s more TMI (and probably less furry porn) over on Lilu’s blog.



I am a tall, hairy, British writer who blogs about technology, photography, travel, and whatever else catches my eye.



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