Wishbone IV
by Sol Oliver

Mike stood at the front door to his apartment, key in the lock, trying to remember how he got there. He clearly remembered his adventure at the jeannie's house. But after his sexual encounter with Cassie and the marble statue, his memory was fuzzy. His ass ached a bit, but nearly not as much as he guessed it should have. So, it *had* actually happened. But what was he supposed to do now? Well, enter his apartment for starters.

"Misha! Skittles!" he said as two orange tabbies rushed up to greet him, mewling and purring. It was sunset, and who knows how long he'd actually been gone. "Let's get you some dinner." After feeding the pair, Mike walked to his answering machine. The light was blinking. Maybe *she* called. No such luck. It was just his boss calling to see where he was. Shit! The meeting. He missed the meeting. No problem. He could work it out tomorrow. Mike sank into his comfy couch, suddenly depressed. Something soft and warm crawled into his lap, purring, and licked his hand.

"Hi Misha," he said, stroking the feline on her head. Skittles lay down across his toes. The furry pair were the last living reminders of his ex-girlfriend, but he didn't mind -- they were a great comfort. "I need a girl who's more like you, Misha," said Mike as he scratched under the cat's chin and behind her ears. 

"Mrow?"

A fuzzy triangular head appeared head at his side; someone else wanted some attention. "Yes, Skittles, you'd be a fine girlfriend, too," said Mike, scritching the second cat as he continued to minister to the first. For the rest of the evening he sat with his cats, his strange adventure becoming a faint memory, until it was time to head to bed to continue with his normal existence.

The air felt fresher in Kara's lungs. As she walked down the city street, she felt taller. It could have been the jeannie's power working through her, as it had when she fucked the shit out of the sub shop girl. Or it could have been just knowing that she had a weapon in her pants that couldn't miss. Not that she hadn't always been confident, but her new tool opened up a lot of possibilities. Every person she passed on the street could be her subject if she chose. Like that cute little blonde...or how about that GQ-looking stud at the news stand? Wouldn't he be surprised. But, no. The sun was setting, and an unusually powerful wave of fatigue was passing over her. On her way to her apartment, Kara stopped at a cart for a hot dog. Such a puny thing! On a whim, she bought a scratch-off lottery ticket.

"Twenty-five dollars!" she shouted in triumph. Collecting her money from the vendor, Kara practically floated all the way home. Entering her second-story walk-up, she wondered if her roomie was home, or if she was out with her boyfriend. Kara knew her from when they took classes together a year ago; Tina was still at college. Her boyfriend had graduated the year before and worked at an ad firm. Very attractive couple. As Kara walked through the apartment, she regretted that the pair was not there.

A familiar urgent feeling pressed at her: she needed to pee. Heading to the bathroom, she stood in front of the toilet, dropped her pants, and began to sit down. 

"Ow!" she shouted. Operating on old instinct, she'd failed to put her new appendage into the equation and had sat on it. Standing up again quickly, she turned around and saw herself in the mirror behind the toilet: a striking brunette in a filled-out t-shirt, pants at her ankles, penis and testicles dangling down. Kara grabbed her cock like she'd seen men do and aimed the head at the water below. It felt strange to be standing up as she relaxed her bladder muscles, and a stream of water hit the calm surface. 

It was fun! She pointed her penis around so that the stream hit different parts of the bowl. Evacuation complete, she reached for some toilet paper. But why? What did she need to wipe? What did guys usually do? Kara shook her python a few times, and the final drops flew free. She shook it again, enjoying the feeling. It began to harden in her hand.

"Oh, shit," said Kara, realizing that she'd activated her cock. In the mirror she watched it gradually thicken and lengthen. Kara felt her balls tightening, though they still hung fairly low. She wanted to be serviced, and the feeling was growing urgent as her rod extended to full length. But there was no one around. She pictured herself being sucked off by Jenny and wished that she would appear. Nothing. She imagined cornering Mike and letting her cock lead the way. Nope. How about Cassie, writhing in pleasure below her? No such luck. Kara stood alone, facing herself in the mirror, cock in hand. "Well, here goes."

Kara moved her hand along her shaft as she worked her tits with her other hand. Letting her mind drift, she imagined the man at the news stand massaging her breasts at her command. She directs him down, until he is sucking away at her penis. Yessss! She grabs him roughly and bends him over. Hers for the taking. She lines up her tool. She pushes in...

"Ahhhhhh!" cried Kara as hot streams ripped from her cock and splatted against the mirror. Her knees went weak, and she turned back around and sat down on the toilet bowl. "Wow," she said to herself, grabbing up toilet paper to clean herself up. "I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of that!" Fatigue fell over Kara, and she just managed to drag herself into bed and fell asleep.

Gentle dreams accompanied Mike's sleep as dawn approached. He and his ex-girlfriend sat on a porch swing, she cuddled up against him. She's talking to him, but he can't hear what she's saying. She's pointing down the street. Now she's on the sidewalk, beckoning him to come with her. Why does she want to take a walk when it's so *comfortable* on the porch? She becomes annoyed and walks off, alone. The dream is no longer pleasant. Something warm cuddles up on his right. Something else curls up on his left. Something wet and rough slides up his neck. He hears a comforting sound in stereo: purring--

--Mike opens his eyes. The purring was still there, as was the warmth against his body.

*sluurp!*

"WakeUpWakeUpWakeUp!" said a smooth, feminine voice. Turning his head, Mike sees that it is a smooth-faced girl with wild, light-brown hair and...furry dark orange ears? And that face. It wasn't just smooth; it was covered in a fine moss of soft orange-streaked fur. Whiskers shot out from around her feline nose, and large green cat eyes gazed back at him.

"FeedMeFeedMeFeedMe!" said a nearly identical voice to his left. This other girl's face wasn't exactly the same, but they were certainly sisters. She too had a fuzzy face, whiskers, and furry ears that poked through wild orange hair. One of her ears had flecks of white.

"You're Skittles!" he said to the speckle-eared catgirl. Her large green eyes lit up at the sound of her name, and she began to lick at his face. Her purr was like a jackhammer in his ears, and a well-articulated paw squeezed his shoulder. Mike could feel the tiny tips of her claws, which thankfully were retracted. A low growl came from Mike's other side, and Skittles backed away shyly. The second catgirl crawled up on top of him and Skittles rolled away and onto the floor. This was just what his cats did every morning. Except they didn't usually talk to him. And--holy shit--they didn't have tits like that! "Misha?" said Mike as the graceful girl gazed down at him with a mischievous smile. Her blue pajamas did little to disguise his pet's figure, which suited him fine. All of her visible skin was covered in soft orange fur, but her form was decidedly human. She was making a pleasant cooing sound, and leaned down and rubbed her cheek against his. As she did, her hair fell all about his face, and her tits grazed against his chest through their pajamas. Just like that, Mike had a hard-on for his cats. Maybe this was some kind of reward for pleasing the statue.

"We're hunnnnngry..." purred Misha, licking his ear and nipping it just a bit. Ow! thought Mike. Those teeth are sharp! Just like normal, Misha turned and crawled to the end of the bed, as if to say "the kitchen's this way." But this morning, Mike sat up and was thunderstruck by the shape of the girl's ass, which was a perfect and lean onion-shape. A long orange tail stood straight up from the top of her ass through her pajama bottom. "The kitchen's this way," said Misha as she oozed off the bed, onto her feet, and out the bedroom doorway. Just as she disappeared, Skittles darted back onto the bed, knocked Mike onto his back again, and began bouncing up and down on top of him with excitement. 

"ComeOnComeOn!" said Skittles, licking him playfully as her ass pushed down on his boner. The wide-eyed catgirl didn't seem to notice, and she bounded off to the kitchen. Mike took a few deep breaths, collected himself, and got up to feed his cats. They were both in the kitchen, Misha sitting on the counter and Skittles pacing back and forth. Usually he gave them each a can of cat food, and he opened the cabinet and took out their usual fare. Both catgirls' faces went blank when they saw the cans, and Skittles paced out of the room.

"Oh. I guess you don't eat this anymore," said Mike, feeling stupid. Just what were you supposed to feed a catgirl? Mike went to the fridge, where he found a package of smoked salmon. 

"Mmmmmmm," said Misha, hopping down from the counter and pushing herself against Mike. Her whiskers tickled his neck. Something about her scent was sweet and intoxicating, and he felt himself hardening again inside his pajamas. Was he allowed to fuck his own cats? Well, they weren't really cats anymore. Did they know anything about sex? Or were they just naturally sensual? Skittles had set herself down in a chair at the dining table and was licking her hands. "Feed us that," said Misha, pointing at the salmon as she purred into his ear. Mike noticed that Misha's claws darted out a bit as she pointed. They looked like they could be used to punch out leather.

"Sure. Salmon," said Mike a bit nervously. Misha went to join her sister, and Mike put together a platter with the salmon, as well as cream cheese, bagels, and tomato. "Do you girls drink coffee?" he yelled over to them, but they just stared back at him, ears cocking to the side. "Oh, right. You probably want milk." Again their ears pricked up, and they smiled as they continued washing up for breakfast. Mike set the platter and a plate for all three of them down on the table. Misha gave Skittles a warning look as she grabbed a thin slice of salmon. After sniffing it a few times and licking it once, *gulp!* down it went. Now Skittles took a piece, slurping it down in similar fashion. Mike went back to the kitchen to get their milk, and by the time he returned every scrap of salmon had disappeared down the feline girl's gullets. The rest of the food was strewn about the table, and Skittles was on top of the table, licking the plate. As Mike approached with the milk he could see her lean, furry midriff in the gap between her pajama top and bottom. Skittles looked up. 

"Oops!" she said with a stupid grin. Mike had always chased them off the table, and the catgirl scampered down and into her chair. Then she noticed what he was carrying. "Milk!" she squealed. Mike set a glass down in front of each of the feline cuties, and for a moment they just stared. 

"Ah," said Mike. They did have lips, but clearly they wanted their milk in a saucer. Mike poured their milk into bowls, which the two catgirls brought up to their mouths and  lapped up with amazing dexterity.

"More! More!" cried both catgirls. Mike emptied the rest of the milk into their bowls, and it quickly disappeared. "More! More!"

"That's all I have," said Mike. Misha turned her body away and Skittles began to pout. "Shit. Alright, I'll be right back." Mike got dressed in sweats and then headed for the apartment door. Before he reached it, the catgirls flashed past him and stood between him and the exit. 

"Don'tGoDon'tGo!" they both mewled, each one grabbing an arm. Their soft, warm fur against his arm was a good reason to stay in and of itself.

"So you don't want the milk?"

"Milk-Milk-Milk!"

"Then I have to go out that door. Understand?" The sisters looked at each other and then stepped away from the door.

"Milk!" said Misha, licking her lips. "Then we want to plaaaay with you." The catgirl purred as she said this, and Mike knew that she meant more than batting around a ball of yarn. 

"Oooooh," said Skittles, clutching the bottom of her pajama top and pulling it down. Her firm breasts were wonderfully round as they stretched against the cotton fabric. Misha came up behind her and put one arm around her waist while the other unbuttoned her top. Pop! Pop! Pop! went the buttons, and Skittle's furry orange breasts were free.

"We'll play now," said Misha, nipping at her sister's neck while slipping her hand under her pajama bottoms, "AND later." Skittles gasped and closed her eyes as Misha's hands worked her breasts and cunt. Mike was stunned as he watched his catgirls writhe together in pleasure, moaning and yipping. Down came Skittle's pants, revealing her furry snatch. The fuzzy hair was a darker orange and glistened as Misha teased her apart with two fingers. Mike could see that the moist flesh inside was pink, and he began to take down his own sweats. At once, the catgirl sisters stopped and looked at him.

"Milk!" they both shouted. Mike continued to take down his pants.

"MILK!" growled Misha. Mike saw sharp claws extend from one of her paw-hands. The look in her glowing cat's eyes left no doubt in his mind that she would use them.

"Okay, okay," said Mike. Taking one last look at Skittles' marvelous tits, he headed out the door to fetch his horny cats more milk.

Kara sat at her kitchen table, reading the morning paper and pondering the day. She still felt like the world was hers, and felt that if she chose not to work ever again, she wouldn't need to. But it might be fun, anyway. Just imagine the surprise on some of her regular's faces down at the strip club when they came in for their next private session. Or maybe she'd sign up with a temp agency in order to best find sharp and willing people who could serve her. The options were limitless.

"Not entirely limitless," said a voice...Cassie. Kara looked up from the paper and saw the jeannie sitting opposite her.

"What do you mean?" said Kara. "I have your powers."

"Not exactly," said Cassie. "I can grant your desires, but my ability to do so depends on how much Mike submits."

"I saw him submitting in my mind yesterday," said Kara. "It was some kind of large woman."

"Yes, he did submit to the statue," said Cassie, smiling as she remembered her own role in the adventure. "But it's not like turning on a light switch. He must be cultivated."

"So let me at him," said Kara as she felt her loins twitch. "I'll cultivate the shit out of him." Cassie ignored the comment, stood up, and waved her arms. A three-dimensional image appeared above the table. Within, Kara saw Mike sitting at a table as two women drank milk from bowls. The picture zoomed in, and Kara could see the women more clearly.

"Catgirls?!" she shouted. "Why does he get catgirls?!"

"I must respond to his desires," explained the jeannie, "and his desires were very strong as he slept." Kara looked at Cassie with a look of exasperation. 

"How submissive is he going to be around catgirls? How is my power supposed to increase?"

"Well, he *is* submitting to them," said Cassie. In the picture, Mike was refilling the girls' milk bowls. "Although not in a way strong enough to move you along much." Kara clenched her teeth, and then inspiration struck.

"Can his little pets be...altered?" she asked the jeannie. Cassie smiled as she picked up on Kara's desire. 

"Yes, that would be interesting," said Cassie. The video showed Mike leaving the apartment. "Why don't we pay the girls a visit? Mike may be awhile." 

As far as Misha and Skittles knew, they had always existed as catgirls, they had always belonged to Mike, and they had always been horny. While Mike was out getting them more breakfast, the feline pair was tumbling throughout the apartment, exploring each other's bodies. Here was Misha laying on top of Skittles, teasing her with a finger and then plunging in with two....now Misha darts off and Skittles pops up in hot pursuit...tackles her to the floor of the living room and pounces on top of her...Misha is more spry, reverses the position, and sits on Skittles' head, facing her feet...leans over, putting them in a classic "69"...

"Mrow!...yeah...yeah..." crowed Misha as her little sister lapped her rough tongue up into her steaming mound. While their cat tongues were much rougher than a pure human's, so too was their flesh more capable of taking the ministrations. Misha buried her face into Skittles' crotch, releasing her tongue to explore. Now they both snacked intently, matching each other's pace...

"Here, kitty, kitty!"

The catgirls froze, quickly untangled, and arranged themselves into crouching attack positions. The hair of their backs was on end, even as love fluid dripped from their pink  purses onto the hardwood floor. Kara could see that their claws were out, and for a moment questioned the wisdom of breaking in on their play time. Then the catgirls' faces smiled brightly, the claws disappeared, and they sprang towards her.

"Cassie!" they shouted as they nearly tackled the jeannie, who was standing several feet behind Kara. "CassieCassieCassieCassie!" Both of them were assaulting the jeannie with kitty-cat kisses. As Kara stood admiring the girls' well-crafted homo felinius bodies, her penis began to get ideas, creating a vertical crease against her robe.

"Alright, alright!" said the jeannie, petting the girls behind the ears. "I want you to meet Kara." The pair turned to look at Kara, who noted that one them seemed shy, while the other one looked at her hungrily and let a paw drift into her crotch. Up swung Kara's cock, parting her robe.

"Mrrrow!" said Misha, eyes lighting up. She began to spring forward, but Cassie caught her arm just in time.

"Now, now," said the jeannie. "We have other plans for you."

"They could wait," said Kara, who had no intention of masturbating again that day. Cassie could understand how Kara felt (she also had a hard-on), but for now the felines were Mike's for the taking. Or to be taken by... 

"Tell you what," said Cassie, waving her arms around herself. Kara gawked as the jeannie's body stepped forward -- and left her head floating behind. The buxom body stepped up to Kara, closed a hand around her cock, and began leading her towards a shimmering column of light that had appeared at the far end of the room. "Why don't you two get a head start, as it were, while I explain things to the girls." 

"Mmmm...okay," said Kara. "The catgirls can wait," she thought as she followed the headless body into the magical transport. Cassie watched them go and then floated her head in between Misha and Skittles.

"Do you want to please Mike?" she asked.

"Oh, yes! Yes, yes!" they chimed. Mike had always been very good to them, and their little romp had been but a prelude to how they would unleash themselves on the unsuspecting man. Cassie smiled.

"Well, it would please him very much if he pleased *you*," said the jeannie. The catgirls looked confused. "Trust me; he'll be very happy. But it will require a little change..."