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A night at the club [story in description: 9/9]
The week had flown by quickly, and now Catherine was lounged on her cozy living room couch, her petite frame wrapped in a soft, oversized blanket that smelled faintly of lavender. The late afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over her small apartment, cluttered with books, a bunch of posters, and a pile of laundry she hadn’t quite gotten to. Her blue hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she was wearing a warm pink nightgown that she would deny until the end was her own.
Her paws grabbed her favourite mug, steaming of lemon and medicine as the sharp citrus scent cut through the stuffiness of her cold. Her nose was slightly red, her eyes a bit watery, and a kinda mild fever had left her cheeks flushed. Despite the sniffles, a contented smile was planted on her lips.
Her phone screen lit up, the sound of her ringtone barely rising over the TV humming softly in the background, the notification replacing the mindless sitcom she wasn’t really watching in her mind. It was a message from Lenora, her wing-girl at the hospital. “You still sick, babygirl? Want me to come over?”. There was no need for that, it was just a flu. Give her three days, and Kat will be back stronger than ever.
Having reassured her friend, Catherine swiped her screen, glowing up the video page she’d been refreshing obsessively since that morning. The public disgrace video had dropped online the day before, and the comments were pouring in. There were hundreds of them: a mix of crude admiration, shocked awe, and even a few that made her laugh out loud.
“This bun’s a fucking legend!” one read. “Fuck, I always miss these parties…” said another. A few were less kind, but Kat was amused by them… She had read some with a grin, flicking her bean over their hatred with a shit-eating smile. After all, part of her even thought it was hot… And the other half simply thought they were idiots. It takes way more to bring Kat down!
She sipped her tea, wincing slightly as the hot liquid soothed her sore throat. The cold was no surprise; all that beer poured over her plus the chilly air of the pub had almost frozen her, and at that point her exhausted body was vulnerably exposed to tens of strangers. But fuck it was worth it! Her mind drifted back to that night… The blur of hands, the sting, the raw humiliation…
Her tail twitched under the blanket, a faint echo of the thrill pulsing through her. The bruises and cuts had mostly faded, though a few tender spots still remained, mostly hidden under her white fur. She wore them like secret badges, reminders of her own (dis)honour. How can a bruise make you horny? I mean, it’s not the bruise itself, it’s more the memory related to it, but still… Every time she felt their sting, that flame within her reignited.
Kat took another warm sip of her tea, inhaling the fumes and enjoying the relief. Was it wrong to be this way? Sure, it was a bit selfish… But it did make people happy, didn’t it? Happy… There it was again, that stupid thought… The one that almost ruined that night. Because in truth, Catherine WAS selfish. So selfish, in fact, that she allowed herself to…
“You alright, girl?”
Catherine opened her eyes, looking at Ian with a nod. “You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his frown still lingering on his face. The black cat was still sitting with his legs crossed, holding his glasses in his right hand, the clipboard in the left hand resting on his knee. Kat shook her head, covering her breasts with the warm towel still wrapped around her neck.
“No, it’s just… I’m fine.” Ian put down the clipboard, sitting straight before her. “You look like you’re about to cry, girl. You sure you don’t want to talk about that?” Kat tried to deny, mentioning it was just the bruises on her bum, but he didn’t buy her excuse for a moment. “It’s not you, it’s me, really”.
“Oh, don’t give me that. I know something is bothering you, and given what we just did it’s important we communicate.” There he was again: gentle yet firm. His hands were holding his glasses firmly, his claws barely peeking out of his fur due to the pressure. He was using them to accompany his words, not too much but enough to betray his worry. And there was here heartbeat again. What the fuck was wrong with it? Oh, fuck it. Enough with playing games.
“It’s just… I don’t want to miss you. I… I…” Catherine looked at Ian with a frown, her eyes darting around as she looked for the words to express her new feeling. The cat looked at her silently, not wanting to interrupt her. “I liked being… yours. And I sort of want to… Keep being yours. For a while. Andmaybeforyoutobemineaswellyouknow?” Catherine mumbled, resting her face on her knees as she hugged her legs.
Ian nodded. “Ok. Thank you for sharing that with me.” The words surprised the poor bunny, who got a bit upset “Wait, you’re not even going to answer me?” “Not now, Catherine. You just went through a hell of an experience, how can I know if you’re still not half drunk from all that? Plus, if you want to be with me, I’d like you to be with the actual me. You know, outside of my work self.”
Kat shivered a bit, her lower lip trembling as she processed his words that totally looked like a no to her. But Ian was aware of her fear, and simply smiled at her. “Tell you what, I’ll send you a message next week. If by then you’ve lost your interest it will mean I wasn’t worth it. Now go get dressed, it’s getting chilly! I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or something.”
And so the week had just passed. Now that her spirit had calmed down, Catherine could tell he was right: it wasn’t just him she felt she would miss. It was the entire scene, that freedom she felt. To her, Ian wasn’t really a person that night: it was the tool to break her chains. And she treated him like a tool just like he toyed with her in front of everyone else. It would have been selfish to think it would be something more.
No, Catherine had to return to her own life. The fever would pass, the cold would fade, and she’d be back in her scrubs soon enough, saving lives with the same steady hands that had trembled under those lights. No one would notice, no one would know. Such is the life in these towns. But this moment, curled up on her couch, sipping her medicinal tea, basking in the afterglow of her own audacity, was still hers.
She scrolled through a few more comments, her smile widening at one that simply said “I wish I was her!” She laughed, talking to herself “Me too.” Her thumb hovered over the heart button, and she pressed it. Setting her phone down, Kat leaned her head back, closing her eyes. The warmth of the tea spread through her chest, soothing the lingering ache in her body and soul. She didn’t need to decide today whether she’d step back into that wild, chaotic world. For now, she was happy just being Kat: part diligent doctor, part rebel punk, part bunny slut… And that was enough. She pulled the blanket tighter, took another sip, and let herself sink into the quiet joy of the moment, the memory of her night in the pub burning bright in her mind.
Kat phone screen lighted up again, this time with Ian’s face next to a text: “Wanna go feed the ducks at the park?” Catherine picked it up, her grin turning into a full-on smile. Of course she fucking wanted to. Because, in truth, Catherine was selfish.
Last sketch of the collection for
disnomia , marking the story's end. Hope you liked it!
Looks like this poor bunny caught a cold! That's what happens when you get cold beer poured all over yourself u.u
Posted using PostyBirb
Her paws grabbed her favourite mug, steaming of lemon and medicine as the sharp citrus scent cut through the stuffiness of her cold. Her nose was slightly red, her eyes a bit watery, and a kinda mild fever had left her cheeks flushed. Despite the sniffles, a contented smile was planted on her lips.
Her phone screen lit up, the sound of her ringtone barely rising over the TV humming softly in the background, the notification replacing the mindless sitcom she wasn’t really watching in her mind. It was a message from Lenora, her wing-girl at the hospital. “You still sick, babygirl? Want me to come over?”. There was no need for that, it was just a flu. Give her three days, and Kat will be back stronger than ever.
Having reassured her friend, Catherine swiped her screen, glowing up the video page she’d been refreshing obsessively since that morning. The public disgrace video had dropped online the day before, and the comments were pouring in. There were hundreds of them: a mix of crude admiration, shocked awe, and even a few that made her laugh out loud.
“This bun’s a fucking legend!” one read. “Fuck, I always miss these parties…” said another. A few were less kind, but Kat was amused by them… She had read some with a grin, flicking her bean over their hatred with a shit-eating smile. After all, part of her even thought it was hot… And the other half simply thought they were idiots. It takes way more to bring Kat down!
She sipped her tea, wincing slightly as the hot liquid soothed her sore throat. The cold was no surprise; all that beer poured over her plus the chilly air of the pub had almost frozen her, and at that point her exhausted body was vulnerably exposed to tens of strangers. But fuck it was worth it! Her mind drifted back to that night… The blur of hands, the sting, the raw humiliation…
Her tail twitched under the blanket, a faint echo of the thrill pulsing through her. The bruises and cuts had mostly faded, though a few tender spots still remained, mostly hidden under her white fur. She wore them like secret badges, reminders of her own (dis)honour. How can a bruise make you horny? I mean, it’s not the bruise itself, it’s more the memory related to it, but still… Every time she felt their sting, that flame within her reignited.
Kat took another warm sip of her tea, inhaling the fumes and enjoying the relief. Was it wrong to be this way? Sure, it was a bit selfish… But it did make people happy, didn’t it? Happy… There it was again, that stupid thought… The one that almost ruined that night. Because in truth, Catherine WAS selfish. So selfish, in fact, that she allowed herself to…
“You alright, girl?”
Catherine opened her eyes, looking at Ian with a nod. “You want me to help you get home?” he asked, his frown still lingering on his face. The black cat was still sitting with his legs crossed, holding his glasses in his right hand, the clipboard in the left hand resting on his knee. Kat shook her head, covering her breasts with the warm towel still wrapped around her neck.
“No, it’s just… I’m fine.” Ian put down the clipboard, sitting straight before her. “You look like you’re about to cry, girl. You sure you don’t want to talk about that?” Kat tried to deny, mentioning it was just the bruises on her bum, but he didn’t buy her excuse for a moment. “It’s not you, it’s me, really”.
“Oh, don’t give me that. I know something is bothering you, and given what we just did it’s important we communicate.” There he was again: gentle yet firm. His hands were holding his glasses firmly, his claws barely peeking out of his fur due to the pressure. He was using them to accompany his words, not too much but enough to betray his worry. And there was here heartbeat again. What the fuck was wrong with it? Oh, fuck it. Enough with playing games.
“It’s just… I don’t want to miss you. I… I…” Catherine looked at Ian with a frown, her eyes darting around as she looked for the words to express her new feeling. The cat looked at her silently, not wanting to interrupt her. “I liked being… yours. And I sort of want to… Keep being yours. For a while. Andmaybeforyoutobemineaswellyouknow?” Catherine mumbled, resting her face on her knees as she hugged her legs.
Ian nodded. “Ok. Thank you for sharing that with me.” The words surprised the poor bunny, who got a bit upset “Wait, you’re not even going to answer me?” “Not now, Catherine. You just went through a hell of an experience, how can I know if you’re still not half drunk from all that? Plus, if you want to be with me, I’d like you to be with the actual me. You know, outside of my work self.”
Kat shivered a bit, her lower lip trembling as she processed his words that totally looked like a no to her. But Ian was aware of her fear, and simply smiled at her. “Tell you what, I’ll send you a message next week. If by then you’ve lost your interest it will mean I wasn’t worth it. Now go get dressed, it’s getting chilly! I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or something.”
And so the week had just passed. Now that her spirit had calmed down, Catherine could tell he was right: it wasn’t just him she felt she would miss. It was the entire scene, that freedom she felt. To her, Ian wasn’t really a person that night: it was the tool to break her chains. And she treated him like a tool just like he toyed with her in front of everyone else. It would have been selfish to think it would be something more.
No, Catherine had to return to her own life. The fever would pass, the cold would fade, and she’d be back in her scrubs soon enough, saving lives with the same steady hands that had trembled under those lights. No one would notice, no one would know. Such is the life in these towns. But this moment, curled up on her couch, sipping her medicinal tea, basking in the afterglow of her own audacity, was still hers.
She scrolled through a few more comments, her smile widening at one that simply said “I wish I was her!” She laughed, talking to herself “Me too.” Her thumb hovered over the heart button, and she pressed it. Setting her phone down, Kat leaned her head back, closing her eyes. The warmth of the tea spread through her chest, soothing the lingering ache in her body and soul. She didn’t need to decide today whether she’d step back into that wild, chaotic world. For now, she was happy just being Kat: part diligent doctor, part rebel punk, part bunny slut… And that was enough. She pulled the blanket tighter, took another sip, and let herself sink into the quiet joy of the moment, the memory of her night in the pub burning bright in her mind.
Kat phone screen lighted up again, this time with Ian’s face next to a text: “Wanna go feed the ducks at the park?” Catherine picked it up, her grin turning into a full-on smile. Of course she fucking wanted to. Because, in truth, Catherine was selfish.
Last sketch of the collection for
disnomia , marking the story's end. Hope you liked it!Looks like this poor bunny caught a cold! That's what happens when you get cold beer poured all over yourself u.u
Posted using PostyBirb
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
Species Rabbit / Hare
Size 1280 x 1098px
File Size 54.1 kB
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