FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Over 12,000 years ago, humans were already keeping domestic animals. Some for hunting, others as farm animals for milk, wool and meat. At that time, this relationship was still characterized by the knowledge that survival without these animals was more difficult, if not impossible; in the millennia that followed, this relationship became more and more about these animals becoming accessories.

Large, expensive dogs or cats were kept as status symbols of power and wealth. The owners usually didn't even look after these animals themselves, it was just a matter of owning them and being able to show them off to others.

Small dogs were bought as lap dogs or even toys. It wasn't about the welfare of the animal, it was about owning something small, cute and cuddly that you could dress up as you liked and that could simply be disposed of after a while. At that time, children were still too expensive for this kind of fun and it was not yet ethically justifiable to do so... in other words, to throw them away.

While at least certain rules regarding the keeping and processing of farm animals were established over time due to massive pressure from environmental and animal rights activists, these laws were never applied to pets.

Even in modern times, they were still regarded as simple objects and had no rights whatsoever.

Unfortunately, as time progressed and humanity passed its zenith, the hoped-for utopia did not materialize. Instead, humanity continued to develop technically, but socially there was a considerable regression. A sociological dystopia emerged in which society gradually split into two camps. The camp of those who could afford everything, and that really meant EVERYTHING, and the camp of those who worked hard to ensure that the other camp could actually afford it.

In this time of technological progress, humanity's scientists succeeded in decoding the genome of all known species and manipulating it at will. Besides the usual suspects that came with this technology, such as superhumans, the eradication of most chronic and hereditary diseases, at least for those who could afford it, and near immortality, this also opened the gates to several other areas.

The first artificially created creature to serve as a pet was Lapin. A kind of dwarf rabbit whose genes were spliced with various other breeds so that it was no longer shy, would actively approach its owners and demand to be stroked. The perfect "bunny" for children who didn't want to have the patience to earn the rabbit's trust the old-fashioned way. Lapin was a complete success. At least on paper. The rabbits showed no shyness and actively approached their owners for a cuddle. They became an absolute blockbuster. However, these rabbits did not live very long. The stress they were constantly exposed to was so bad that most of them died after less than three years. Most owners didn't care. After three years, the attraction of the small, living, cuddly animals had already passed anyway and the rabbits, whose enclosure had to be cleaned and who wanted to be fed and looked after, were really only a nuisance. But the success of this concept spurred the scientists on to create more artificial life forms.

In the years that followed, new species regularly appeared on the market, all tailored to a certain target group and equipped with genetically programmed behavioral patterns.

The year is 2532.

Humanity has developed so far that nothing seems technically impossible any more. The rich live in huge towers, called Archologies, high above the clouds, where the air is still clean and the acid rain doesn't etch the clothes off your body. They live in infinite luxury. There is nothing up here that does not exist. Their every wish is fulfilled because science has made it possible and money is irrelevant.

The poor, the masses, they live in the slums, in the continent-sprawling cities at the foot of the Archologies. They are the ones who operate the machines, keep the factories running and extract the raw materials that the Archologies need to function. They give their lives day in and day out to keep the rich alive forever.

I am one of those who live in the Archologies. But I am not one of the rich. Well... that's not quite true. Of course I am one of the rich. After all, I live in a paradise. That alone makes me a very rich person. But this paradise is just a facade. If you look under the plaster, if you peek behind the appearances, you can see that humanity up here, above the clouds, is even more depraved than the people who struggle to survive every day in the slums.

I am not one of the rich, because I am not "rich". I have no money, no power, no influence. All I have is my gift. My gift that makes me who I am.

I am what they call a Caretaker up here.

I take care of their pets. I am a groomer, veterinarian, psychologist and, if need be, a mortician all in one.

Whenever the owners feel it is necessary, they bring their pets to me and I provide them with everything they need. I take care of grooming, I take care of any parasites, I treat wounds and, if necessary, I help with the training of the pet. When the end of the road is reached, I help with the transition of the pet and take care of the burial.

There are not many Caretakers. This job requires a certain talent that not everyone has. A certain... how should I put it... empathy. Yes, empathy is the right word.

Most Caretakers are recruited from the slums. That's what they call it up here when they send out another hunting party to search the slums for children who have the genetic makeup for empathy. Recruitment then involves the forcible abduction of the child. It is not uncommon for the parents or any witnesses to be simply eliminated. This is followed by years of indoctrination, at the end of which a fully trained Caretaker emerges.

Please don't get me wrong. Of course I'm not happy that I was torn away from my parents when I was 2 or 3 years old, not that I can remember them in the slightest, but I'm better off here than I could ever have been down there. I'm not directly angry with my "benefactors" for rescuing me from the slums. It's more what I see here every day that sometimes makes me question whether all this is still normal...

Name: Felicitas

Breed: Felis erectus II

Task: Grooming

It's Monday, although the names of the days of the week no longer have any real meaning in my life. Caretakers don't have weekends, holidays or evenings off. Whenever my services are needed, I'm on duty. This can also be in the middle of the night.

Fortunately, that's not the case this time. I'm standing behind the counter and entering some appointments in my calendar when the door to my store opens.

"Welcome, I am the Caretaker. How may I be of service to you?"

The greeting is so deeply programmed into my brain that it works like a Pavlovian reflex as soon as the bell rings at my door.

In front of me stands James, the butler of an influential family in my block of this Archology. He had called earlier and announced his arrival, I remember.

"I've brought Felicitas. The master wants a full groom. Washing, trimming, brushing, claw trimming... the usual."

His sonorous, calm voice is not unpleasant. He is a good person. Trapped in his role as servant to an aristocracy he didn't choose. He makes an effort, he is fair to the little ones. But even he can't leave his path... just like me. He steps aside and gives me a clear view of Felicitas.

I've known Felicitas for a long time. She belongs to the second generation of a new species of pet. Bred by scientists to be more like us humans. They walk upright on two legs, have an intelligence that is not inferior to ours and, since this generation, are even able to speak. Society wanted pets that were more than simple lap animals. Felicitas' breed, called Felis Erectus II, has almost completely replaced the formerly common domestic cat.

She looks like a plucked chicken. James recognizes my gaze as I look at the young Feline.

"She'll explain everything to you. How long will it take you? Approximately?"

I tear my gaze away from Felicitas and look at James. In my head, I run through roughly how long I will need for each step.

"I think I'll be busy for at least three to four hours. Let's just do it, I'll call you as soon as I can predict when I'll have her ready and you can pick her up."

James nods, his expression serious but friendly.

"That sounds like a plan. I'll leave her in your care and you'll be in touch."

I smile, ever the friendly, customer-oriented, Caretaker. James nods again and turns to leave. As he passes, he places his obnoxiously huge hand on Felicitas' slender shoulder.

"Behave yourself."

It's an unmistakable command and Felicitas, who is standing in my store with her head bowed, just nods silently. James leaves my store quietly but quickly. I know he's very busy. His masters, Felicitas' owners, always keep all their servants on their toes. After the door closes behind him, the room is silent for a moment. It takes a while before she dares to raise her eyes.

"You look horrible. What on earth has happened to you?"

I ask calmly and her bright green eyes look at me pleadingly. She has her hands folded in front of her and her ears droop.

"Nisha's in her latest phase. She's a hairstylist now. My hair is the latest craze."

She says quietly. There's an infinite amount of despair in her voice. I nod knowingly and open the partition that separates the reception room from my work area. With a welcoming gesture, I invite her in.

"Oh yes, I can see it... bottle-brushing is becoming the new trend. At least she didn't attempt to color it..."

I comment on the disaster that creeps past me into the grooming room. Her coat is in complete disarray. There are holes everywhere, the otherwise silky, shiny fur is dull and sticks out in all directions. There are tangles here and there. The owners' daughter has done a great job.

"Well... not dyed, but she was a make-up artist last week. You should have seen me. I looked like one of those clowns in the old pictures."

I can imagine it vividly. The remnants of the makeup are still visible in some places. The products used were never intended for use on fur. We turn into a tiled room.

"Well, still better than what happened to Toby."

She doesn't turn around. Instead, she takes a seat on a small stool. She already knows the procedure. She's a regular at my place. Every other week, James brings her to me for a complete grooming.

I still remember the little fury who sat on the little stool in front of me for the first time and tried to bite my finger when I came with the shower. A lot of time has passed since then and Felicitas has learned to enjoy the time she spends with me as a kind of time-out. A time-out where it's all about her once a fortnight.

"Toby? You mean that cute little cat with the shaggy look? What happened to him?"

She finally asks quietly as I carefully cut some of the larger knots out of her fur.

"Yes, that's the one. His owner is going through a goth phase. I had to dye the poor guy black and now he's walking around at home with an undercut and white accents."

Now she turns to me. Her look reflects sheer horror.

"But... but... he had such beautiful natural markings and the shaggy looked so good on him..."

I nod slightly with my lips pressed together. I stroke her head gently.

"Yes, it's a shame. Even if most of the color will probably be lost at the next coat change, his coat will never be the same again."

She nods knowingly. He's not the first experiment she's seen. She turns to face forward again. I run my fingers through her fur. It looks incredibly straw-like and dull. I can see her tears in the mirror.

"Don't worry. I'll fix it. You'll look fabulous again when I'm finished with you."

I say and reach for the shower head. I can see the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Despite all the genetics and all the research, science still hasn't been able to remove the fear of water from them.

I carefully let the water run and regulate the temperature to a comfortable level. Felicitas tenses up and closes her eyes. She knows it's only ever the first moment, after that it's fine, but despite all her intelligence and experience with this procedure, she still can't get out of her skin.

She flinches as I gently run the water over her back. It only takes a moment before she can relax again. I know that she likes the warmth and that she actually loves baths. But it's always the first moment. The first time her paws dip into the water, or like now, the first time the warm water touches her back, when she has to overcome herself not to flee immediately.

I can see her tension fading away. Washed away by the warm water. I douse her entire back, shoulders, arms and legs before going around her and dousing her front with warm water too. Her head comes last. We have followed this order right from the start and she has got used to it.

Routines give her security. Like all felines, she is also plagued by insecurity. Since we always go through the same steps, this gives her the security she needs to trust me and let herself go completely.

I carefully lift her head and she closes her eyes. She puts her ears back and I let the water run slowly over her head. I can see how her tension falls away and her worries slowly trickle down with the water. As soon as her coat is thoroughly soaked, I turn off the water and put the hand shower to one side.

"Which shampoo would you like?"

I ask quietly and turn to the selection of colorful bottles standing behind me.

"Coconut almond, please."

Her reply is almost toneless. I smile. Of course coconut almond... it's always coconut almond.

I reach for the bottle and drip a portion of the viscous mixture onto my hand. I rub the soap between my hands and start soaping her head. I am careful. I know how sensitive the felines' ears are and where it might be better not to rub the soap in too much. But Felicitas already knows the procedure and enjoys the rare caresses and the massage that goes with them. I take my time, as I know only too well that most pets rarely get this kind of attention.

After I have lathered up the head, ears and neck, I take another portion of the soothing shampoo and continue my work on the feline's back. I can feel how little fat there is between the skin, muscles and bones and can feel most of the bones very well as my hands glide over her back. I don't dare to work the soap properly into her coat for fear of hurting her.

"Have you lost weight again?"

I ask in a worried tone, causing her to wince a little. I sigh deeply. I know she's not a good eater, and admittedly the food paste they use for most pets is anything but appetizing. Very few owners spend the money to buy effective food for their pets. It's actually cheaper to just buy a new pet.

"Felicitas, we've already talked about this. You can't starve to death from a full bowl."

There's no reproach in my voice, it's pure worry that resonates in it. Felicitas hangs her head. I slowly reach her lower back. I carefully massage the rest of the soap into her fur and pick up the shower again.

"But it's so disgusting. You don't know how disgusting this stuff is. Do you know what's in it?"

She asks and I can hear the disgust in her voice. I nod. And I do know what's in this paste, and I'm glad she doesn't know half of what I know about this paste and its ingredients, because I know where I put the bodies of the dead pets....

I turn on the water and start to gently wash the shampoo out of her fur.

"Yes Felicitas, I know this stuff is disgusting. I was allowed to try it too. But you know as well as I do that nobody can force your owner to provide you with other food. And it would be a shame if you went that way. Even knowing that he would simply replace you with the next pet."

She hangs her head a little lower. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. I can understand her anger, because where I am only a second-class "citizen", at least I still have certain rights in this society, especially as I am one of the few Caretakers, she is "only" a pet, she is an object that has been found to be interesting, at best, and an obstacle to be cleared out of the way, at worst.

I carefully brush the foam from her fur and rinse the rest off her back. I turn off the water and she turns to face me. Her expression is closed. Our conversations are not always cheerful, and sometimes, like today, the topics of our conversation are more serious and less pleasant. I look into her beautiful green eyes and see so much sadness and pain. I put the shower aside again and reach for the shampoo bottle. She straightens up and opens her arms so I can shampoo her chest and stomach. I can still remember the first time. It took us almost half an hour because she was so ticklish, and later we had a very long and heated discussion about privacy and my rights and duties as a Caretaker. Today she has fairly accepted that she has no choice but to let me do my job. Some days she even enjoys it. Today will not be one of those days, I can already see that.

After I've lathered up her front, she hands me one of her arms and I take care of it and then its counterpart.

When I turn the water back on, she looks at me questioningly.

"What's on your mind?"

I ask and start to wash the foam from her fur at her shoulders.

"Why?"

She asks almost tonelessly. But before I can answer, she continues:

"Why did they give us feelings if they don't honor them, why did they give us the ability to think if they don't respect our thoughts and why did they give us the ability to speak if they don't want to listen to us..."

I pause my work for a moment and put the shower down again. I squat down in front of her to be at eye level with her. She knows that it is important for me when I get down to her eye level. She looks at me attentively.

"Because humans are humans. We are cruel, greedy, insatiable, vengeful, obsessed with power and we like to play God. Humans created you and your kind because they enjoy the suffering of others. And only when a being is capable of higher thinking and understands the situation in which it finds itself will it really suffer. Because if you didn't know that you could be so much better, that you were capable of so much more, then you wouldn't suffer so much from your situation."

My voice is completely calm. Over the years, I have learned to keep my emotions completely under control when it comes to these issues, otherwise I would no longer be suitable for this work. Felicitas, on the other hand, is not as well equipped as I am. She looks at me, completely distraught. The brutality of my statement and the prospect that comes with it doesn't exactly help her view of the world. Even if she basically already knew everything I just told her, hearing it again from the mouth of a human is something else entirely.

The fact that her breed, just like the many other breeds, has basically been bred so that humans can enjoy their suffering even more, pulls the rug out from under her feet. Yes, perhaps the original idea behind creating more intelligent pets was that they could take on more of a companion role for older, lonely people, but it quickly became clear that once science had found ways to virtually stop ageing altogether, there wasn't much of a market for pets for the elderly...

I put a supporting hand on her shoulder before she falls over. She looks at me with tear-filled eyes. I carefully brush her tears away.

"I know it's a cruel world, and you would have liked to hear something else, but then I would have had to lie to you, and that would almost have been worse. But try not to think about it too much. The more you think about it, the worse it gets. Hold on to the fact that you have an owner who at least treats you reasonably well, who sends you to me at regular intervals, and who at least hasn't abused you in any other way."

A small consolation, but she knows what I mean and she knows that she is very lucky because of it.

I finish the shower and reach for a big, fluffy towel.

I wrap the petite Feline in front of me in the towel and she follows me into the next room.

In this room there are several stools, a massage table and mirrors hanging on the walls. The floor is covered with a warm plastic covering that is easy to clean.

Felicitas takes a seat on one of the stools. She has also been familiar with this part of the procedure for a long time. I start to gently rub her dry with the towel. I can feel her pressing against my hands. She enjoys the attention and the feeling of the towel rubbing her back. For a brief moment, I can hear her purring before she notices it herself and immediately stops. She learned early on that she shouldn't let herself go like this.

"It's all right Felicitas. You know this is a safe space."

She shakes her head.

"If I can't control it here, I can't control it at home."

She says softly. I nod as I take another thinner towel from the pile and take care of her little head. I carefully dry her ears and pat her face dry. Of course, she could do all this herself, but the unwritten law is: while you're with the Caretaker, the Caretaker does everything, you just enjoy.

I throw the towel into the laundry basket and turn around. Behind me on the wall are countless scissors and clipping machines. For every coat type and texture. I grab one of the scissors, check its sharpness and give it a few snips before grabbing a comb and turning my attention back to Felicitas. In the mirror in front of her, I can see her worried look.

"Don't worry, we'll fix it. It'll just be a short summer cut. Do you want it?"

She pulls the large towel tighter around her.

"I'd like my coat back... the one that's already missing. I feel so... naked..."

I smile affectionately. It is possible to lengthen fur, but it usually looks very artificial and it destroys the structure of the existing fur.

"We won't be able to do that. But I can at least try to save what's left and shape it to suit you."

She nods. She knows that even a Caretaker can't perform miracles. She looks at me through the mirror with big, bright green eyes. I can't help but smile and stroke her head, which is still slightly damp.

"I'll make you pretty again."

I finally say and start to carefully comb through the fur on her head. Her owner's daughter has left steps and holes everywhere. It will be difficult to create a uniform appearance again without shaving her completely bald.

I decide to make a cut and apply the scissors. In the silence of the room, each snip has something infinitely final about it and slowly the shortened hair gathers on Felicitas' shoulders. I can see the depressed expression on Felicitas' face, but even she has to admit that her head looks much better now, but with the much shorter coat she looks completely different. The now clearly visible contours of her skull and the accentuated lines of her face make her look much more dynamic and also much more aggressive.

"Oha ... I think I've turned you into a little cat of prey. Look at that."

I say and place my hands under her face so that the significantly longer fur on her collar is not visible. With her narrow face and big eyes, she almost looks like a cheetah, but the markings aren't right.

She seems to like what she sees, because she makes a few faces at me. I smile and scratch her a little behind the ears.

"Right, let's take care of the rest."

I say quietly and take the large towel from her shoulders. She nods and stands up slowly and elegantly. The contrast between the now really short fur on her head and the still at least partially medium-length fur, which is so typical of her breed, on the rest of her body is quite striking.

"We'll have to shorten some of the fur to make it look uniform again."

I say and she crosses her arms in front of her body. She's not happy, but she agrees with me that it looks really strange like this and it can't stay like this.

"Please don't make it too short. It just doesn't feel right."

She asks meekly and I nod. I will try to save what can still be saved. I comb the trimmed coat in one direction with the coarse comb and try to work out what her owner's daughter wanted to achieve. The cuts are completely random, there is no recognizable pattern. I sigh and start the rescue operation.

It takes quite a while and the amount of hair that gradually ends up on the floor of the room is frightening. But I can actually present a halfway respectable result.

"Ohooo... haven't you always wanted a mohawk?"

I ask jokingly and indicate that she should turn once so that she can see the result.

She looks in the mirror and turns back and forth. I was able to leave a strip of her coat relatively long and now it stretches over her back like a mohawk, emphasizing the aggressive look of her head. At the same time, the fur, which has already been shortened considerably on her flanks, makes her already slim figure look even slimmer. She runs her hand hesitantly over her waist. I can see in her eyes that this pleases her on the one hand, but on the other hand it reveals what her previously longer coat had concealed and her concern is palpable.

She turns completely towards me. She is right. I have created a look with her head and back that needs to be harmonized with her front or it will look odd.

"I like... what you did to my fur... but..."

She covers her shame with her hands and looks at me pleadingly.

"...Don't make it quite so short here..."

I nod again and once more start to roughly comb through her fur before I use the scissors. I want to save as much of her collar as possible. It frames her petite head beautifully and enhances the cheetah look even more. I try to trim the fur so that I can show off her figure better with the help of the cut and still leave enough fur so that it doesn't show too much of what is hidden behind the fur.

I know that there are enough owners who also "use" their pets for other activities and they often want certain areas to be kept practically fur-free. Fortunately, this is not the case here and I can make an effort to trim the fur in this area but keep it tasteful.

When I get to the area of her abdomen, she flinches. I stop and wait for her to relax.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to shave you. That was never the plan."

I say quietly and look up at her. She has pulled her arms to her chest. She knows never to raise a hand to a human. That would be an almost certain death sentence. Pets have been put down for less. It takes a moment but she slowly relaxes again. I put the scissors and comb to one side.

"Please forgive me, it's just... I've heard so many things... and I'm afraid of it..."

Her voice is still almost toneless. I rise slowly. I place my hand on her cheek and can feel the weight of her head as she presses it against my hand.

"Everything is all right. Don't be scared. Come over here. We'll do the rest here on the bench. I think that's easier, even for you."

I lead her to the bench and help her up. She weighs incredibly little. I will definitely have to talk to James. She's not just malnourished, she's bordering on anorexia. She lies down flat. I give her a pillow for her head and put her legs on a roll so that she can lie relaxed. She closes her eyes and tries to relax.

I go to my wall and take one of the trimmers and attach one of the blades for very fine coats. I check that the machine is working and turn back to her. As I approach the bench, I can see how tense she is. I carefully place my hand on her leg and she almost jumps off the bench from the tension.

"Just relax. I don't want to cut any more holes in your fur. And don't worry. This will just make it quicker and easier."

Felicita's breathing is fast and shallow, her eyes reflect her panic. I try to appear calm and relaxed so that she can orient herself to me. I stroke her lightly and try to project my mood onto her. It takes a moment, but she slowly relaxes.

"That's alright. Don't be afraid. Have I ever lied to you?"

She shakes her head.

"Have I ever done anything that hurt you inappropriately?"

She shakes her head again.

"You see? Why would I start now of all times?"

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. I can feel the tension in her muscles trembling away. I switch on the machine and pick up my comb. The trimmer is better for working out the fine contours, but I can understand that the noise of the machine is disturbing for her and the vibrations are perhaps also very unpleasant. I work quickly and safely. After I have trimmed her abdomen, I take care of her legs and try to emphasize her muscles a little by skilfully working out the contours. Finally, when I have finished with her fur, I take a file and look at her claws. The claws on her hands look good, but the claws on her feet need a little shaping.

It doesn't take long and after I've applied a varnish to stabilize the claws and prevent them from splintering, I'm quite satisfied.

"Come on, get up and look at yourself. I think you'll like this."

I say and offer her a hand. Felicitas rises and hops off the bench. She steps hesitantly in front of the mirror. I can see the shock in her eyes. The Felicitas looking back at her from the mirror is not the Felicitas who entered my shop earlier. The Felicitas she sees now is a slim, emphasized killer. Every inch of her slender figure screams predator. Although she's not toned, the cut emphasizes her every muscle and the play of light and shadow makes her look stronger than she is. The cut also cleverly emphasizes the few curves she has without making her look obscene. She turns and twists in front of the mirror and slowly the shock turns first into fascination and finally into something like admiration.

"Well, do you like what you see?"

I ask and she turns to me. There's a gleam in her eyes, but she controls herself enough not to scream and jump up and down.

"Yes. I look fantastic. Thank you so much."

She replies and bows deeply. I smile and pat the bench.

"Good, then I'm satisfied. And now hop hop hop. We still have to blow out the loose hair, otherwise you'll be itching yourself to death later."

She comes over to me and jumps onto the bench. It's like night and day when she's not completely depressed. I put the trimmer away and take the blower hose and flick the switch. I adjust the air jet and start blowing the loose hairs out of her coat. It's a tedious procedure, but a necessary one. If I don't remove the hair, it will cause severe itching, which can go so far that pets scratch themselves to death. They will also be all over the owner's house, which reflects badly on my work. Fortunately, her fur is quite short now, so blowing it out is both easier and quicker.

When I am finally finished, we are both relieved. I help her off the bench and accompany her into another room. This room was developed to give pets the opportunity to completely relax for a short time. A scientist from the Netherlands developed the method in the last millennium and called it Snoezelen. Felicitas is already familiar with it and for her it is one of the highlights of every visit here. She lies down in one of the deckchairs and I cover her with a blanket.

"Relax, I'll let James know."

She nods and closes her eyes. She knows she can't put off returning to her 'home' forever, so she wants to make the most of the time she has left. I close the door gently and go back to the registration desk. On the way there, I dial the butler's familiar number and wait for him to answer.

"Yes, she'll be ready in about 30 to 35 minutes... But of course she behaved herself. She was an angel, as always... Yes, I have managed to restore her coat, but it's quite a short summer cut. I would refrain from further hairdressing experiments until the coat has grown back... No, no further damage has been done... But I have noticed that she has continued to lose weight. She has crossed the line into malnutrition... Yes, I know, I have spoken to her... No, I don't think coercion and punishment will help... Yes, I am aware that my views are not shared by everyone... Alright. She'll be here waiting for you... My best wishes..."

I hang up and look at my schedule. There's still time left until the next client arrives. I go back to my workspace and start tidying up. I work quietly but efficiently, making the most of the time available to me and creating order.

When my timer rings after about 25 minutes, I go to the Snoezelen room. I knock quietly and open the door. Felicitas turns her head and slowly opens her eyes.

"Is time over already?"

I nod and quietly enter the room. I slowly walk over to her and crouch down next to her. I gently stroke her head.

"Yes, it's time to go back to your home."

The disappointment in her eyes is clear to see, but she knows that there is no way around it. At least not one that doesn't lead directly back here. But then for a different purpose. I carefully remove the blanket and fold it up. Felicitas stands up and stretches. The new look suits her perfectly. I hope her owner's daughter thinks so too.

She follows me out of the room and back to the registration desk. She takes a seat on one of the chairs that are specially placed here in case one of the pets has to wait for its owner. She sits there silently, her hands in her lap and her head bowed.

It doesn't take long for the door to my store to open. James enters the room with long, quiet strides. His whole appearance screams authority. He nods at me and his eyes fall on Felicitas. I can see his expression change.

"Holy..."

It escapes him before he can catch himself.

"You've done a great job. Look at her. She's become a completely different Feline."

I nod slightly.

"Do you like the new look? I was forced to remove a lot of the fur."

James nods. The owner, his boss, will be pleased. The pet is once again presentable.

"Yes. I think the owner will be completely satisfied. I've also spoken to the daughter, she won't be grooming her anymore."

I smile and nod. Meanwhile, Felicitas stands up silently and joins her companion. She bows to me again and the two of them leave my store.

I look after them a little ruefully. I'm not sure what Felicitas will look like the next time James drops her off at my place.

Name: Butters

Breed: Canis Erectus III

Task: Grooming

It's been a quiet day so far. I have a lot of time to take care of the things that happen behind the scenes in a business like this. I take stock, order missing inventory and take care of the bookkeeping. Boring stuff, but it's all part of running a business. Because no matter how important my job is and no matter how much the Society of Archology needs the institution that the Caretakers are, if we are not able to take care of ourselves, they will drop us like a hot potato. So it's important to me that my business is run properly and that all my supplies are stocked at all times.

My phone rings. While I'm still making my way back to reception, I answer the call.

"The Caretaker, how may I be of assistance? ... Yes, of course you can bring Butters by... There are no other customers in at the moment... No, there's no waiting time, I can take care of him straight away... No, of course there are no additional costs for you... Yes, see you in a moment, I'll be expecting you."

I open the register, which lists all the pets registered in this archology. I look to see what awaits me.

Butters is a third-generation Canis Erectus. A dog-boy... a doggo... he'll be one of those chatterboxes. Always eager to please his master. I roll my eyes, this is going to be fun. I prepare myself and set up my workstation so that I can get straight to work when the owner delivers Butters.

And I can hear him even before the door to my store opens.

"Look Mistress, a bird... isn't it nice, I want a bird too... they must be delicious... can I have a bird? ... I've been good... I haven't done anything all day... may I? May I? Hmm?... hmmm?"

The owner opens the door and Butters immediately storms into the room.

"Whoa.... Where are we?... are there treats here?... surely there are treats here... I can smell them already... these delicious... good... hmmm... oh who is that?... is that a nice person?... oh sure that's a nice person... may I say hello? Please..."

I smile and look at the owner, who is standing behind his young pet, beaming with joy.

"Hello, I'm Nisha. I just called you. And this is..."

"... I'm Butters... do you have any treats for me?"

I nod.

"Yes, I almost thought so. Now calm down and sit over there and maybe we'll talk about treats later."

My voice is calm but very firm and I flip something like a switch in Butter's brain. He calms down almost immediately and walks over to one of the chairs. He quietly takes a seat and waits for his treat with a friendly grin. I turn to his owner.

"Please excuse me, but he would have jumped on the counter sooner or later."

She makes a placating gesture and continues to smile.

"It's all right. You know, he's my first dog. I'm a little overwhelmed, he has so much energy."

I nod. It was clear to see that she was a little overwhelmed with him. She's lucky she hasn't got into trouble with the authorities yet, as ill-mannered as he is.

"Yes, his breed is known for its tempestuous but thoroughly good-natured personality. So what can I do for you, or for him?"

"I don't know how he managed it, but his fur is terribly sticky. He must have rolled in some thing or other. I tried to brush it out, but it didn't work. I didn't want to hurt him and I hope you can save his beautiful fur. I would hate to have him sheared."

I look over at Butters, who is busy chewing on his hand. I smile broadly.

"I'll have a look, but I'm pretty sure we can save his fur."

I say and make a note of the appointment in my calendar. His owner seems satisfied and is just about to leave when I speak to her again.

"I've just seen that he hasn't been neutered yet..."

At this sentence, Butters immediately stops chewing on his hand and his ears droop. His owner nods slightly.

"Yes, he's not neutered yet. I didn't really want to deprive him of his... erm... manhood... you know... how should I put it..."

I raise my hands apologetically. Butter's hands slowly sink into his lap and rest protectively on his privates

"No, no... everything's fine. It's none of my business. I just thought it might help with the obedience a bit... and he could still... afterwards."

She blushes and I nod knowingly. It doesn't bother me. Not that I could stop it, even if I tried. It's no longer taboo in society and most male pets don't seem to be averse to it either.

"Ahhhahahaha... wellaa... but for now I don't see that happening... if he proves more difficult, I'll think about it."

She says and waves it off. I nod and look over at Butters with a look which seems to say: "Phew, lucky again!" Butters looks at me and pants.

"Good, then I'll have a look at this little disaster. Do you want to wait, or should I let you know when he's finished?"

I ask as I open the partition to my work space. The owner shakes her head and turns to leave.

"Thank you, just let me know when he's ready."

And with that, she leaves my store. I am alone with Butters. He looks at the door for a moment and swallows, as if he's only now realizing that he's left alone with me. He turns his head towards me and whines.

"Come on Butters, let's get you all fixed up."

My voice is friendly and inviting as I call out to him and Butters jumps up immediately, but then hesitates. His brain spurs him on to go to me, but his upbringing holds him back.

"What's wrong Butters?"

I ask, seeing the doubt in his eyes.

"My mistress said I'm not allowed to go with strangers..."

He says in a slightly shaky voice and I can literally feel his uncertainty. I smile kindly.

"Yes. That's right. You're not allowed to go with strangers or other pets. But your mistress has left you in my care so I can see what you've done to your fur. It's alright if you go with me. Your mistress will pick you up later."

Butters tries to process what I’ve said. I can see the little cogs working in his brain. It's delightful.

"Come on, then. If you behave, we can talk about treats... I've got the good stuff."

Now a jolt goes through the young male and he comes to me.

"Treats? Really?... oh man... I love treats... where are the treats?..."

I shake my head and lead the way to my wet room.

"First the work, then the treats."

I say and push Butters, who is wagging his tail happily, in front of me. I can already see the problem. Almost his entire back is covered in something. I can't quite put my finger on it yet, but it smells faint and is still sticky.

"At least it's not shit..."

I say quietly to myself as I buck Butters onto his stool.

"Ooooh... what kind of room is this?... oooh water... I love water... oooh brushes... I... don't... like... them... so much..."

His enthusiasm drops significantly when he sees all the tools for grooming, but he still remains friendly and bounces back and forth on the stool.

"Now sit still, boy. I need to see what you've been up to."

There is a certain sternness in my voice, but it remains calm and composed. Butters calms down a little and doesn't fidget so much. But his head is still spinning and he wants to see everything.

"It smells like other pets here. I can smell Felines and other Doggos... where are they? I want to play..."

I shake my head and take a closer look at the mass in his fur. It's a black, rubbery mass. It's sticky and smells burnt.

"Can you tell me how you managed to paste tar all over your back?"

I finally ask and Butters turns his head towards me. He sniffs my fingers and grins.

"Ohhh yeah... there was a truck that smelled the same... and there was a Feline hiding under the truck. I don't know where she came from, but I wanted to play with her. So I crawled under the truck... My mistress didn't find it funny at all. She scolded me really badly... but I'm such a good boy... well, the Feline ran away and I had to go back to my mistress and she was angry... and she scolded me... she said a lot and when we got home she didn't cuddle me... then she tried to comb me, it didn't work... then she was angry again..."

Butters continues to babble on for a while, but I have the information I need. I go to my shelf and look for a special shampoo to wash the tar out of his fur. After a short search, I find the bottle I'm looking for. I take it from the shelf and turn back to Butters.

"What have you got there?... treats?... let me see?..."

I hold the bottle out to him and Butters sniffs it with interest, but immediately grimaces.

"Uuuurgss... no, no treats..."

I nod and tell him to turn around so that I can start washing him. While I turn on the water, Butters starts chattering away again. I can't help but smile. He talks incoherently about how much he loves his mistress and how nice the weather was today and how much fun he and his mistress always have when they play with each other. At the same time, however, he also talks about how he constantly steals her slippers, how he has stolen the sausage from the neighbor's children's bread and that he secretly digs holes in the garden.

I shake my head silently and soak his fur. Then I shampoo his entire back thoroughly with the special shampoo and leave it to work. While his back is soaking, I take care of his front. Fortunately, his coat is not sticky here. A few knots here and there, but nothing that can't be fixed with a bit of patience and a good brush. While I take care of his front, Butters continues to rave about his mistress, who always takes such good care of him. He tells me that he is often allowed to sleep in her bed with her as he and she cuddle together. That he finds it all very, very nice and that the connection between them is very intimate. He casually mentions that his mistress has been playing a new game with him more often recently and that she gets very excited every time. This game feels wonderful and he is very happy every time she calls him over for this game.

He lacks the intelligence to know exactly what is happening, but he knows very well that he would no longer play this game with her if he were neutered. I shake my head again. He is such a nice little guy, but so terribly untrained. So much work still needs to be done on this puppy.

I start to wash the foam out of his coat. I use a special coarse comb for the coat on his back because I want to see straight away whether the tar has come off. Most of the tar has indeed come off. You can comb the coat all the way through. I rinse his back generously and try to remove as much tar as possible from his fur before I start brushing. When I have rinsed the last of the foam from his fur, I take a towel and wrap it around his shoulders. He stops babbling for a moment and looks at me questioningly.

"Come on Butters, we have to dry you and then we have to brush you."

I say quietly and he stands up. He can hold back just enough not to shake himself and spread the water all over the room. With a friendly grin, he follows me into the next room. But when he sees all the combs, brushes, scissors and clippers, his grin slowly but surely disappears.

"My mistress always says brushing is a must... otherwise I get knots in my fur and then brushing hurts... I don't want brushing to hurt... but I don't want to be brushed either... I'm scared of these things..."

He slowly falls back a little and finally stops about 2 meters from the stool he is supposed to sit on. I turn to face him. I can see the panic in his eyes. I put on a calm, friendly smile and ask him calmly but firmly to come to me.

"Butters, come here. Sit down."

He can't help himself. The synapses that have already been anchored in his genetics don't allow any contradiction. Hesitantly, he comes to me and sits down on the stool. He holds his tail tightly and his eyes twitch back and forth. I walk slowly to my wall with all the grooming tools. I select some combs and brushes and a pair of scissors. After checking the scissors for sharpness and snipping them a few times, I turn back to Butters.

"So, my boy. You're a good boy, aren't you?"

Butters nods in agreement. I smile. I hand him one of the brushes.

"Take it."

I ask him. He hesitantly raises his hand and takes the brush from my hand. He looks at the brush briefly and then looks at me.

"Try it out. You'll see, it won't hurt."

I say calmly. Butters looks skeptically at the brush. He turns it back and forth in his hands. He touches the bristles with his other hand and slowly lifts the brush. I can see how much effort it takes him to bring the brush to his head and then carefully run it through his coat. It's wonderful to see his eyes light up when it doesn't hurt at all. I indicate that he should try again. This time he is a little more enthusiastic.

"It doesn't hurt at all..."

He seems more surprised than I am. I just nod gently.

"Yes, if you use the right brush for the right coat, it doesn't hurt. You have a few nodules here and there, though, so we'll have to remove them. But don't worry, that won't hurt either."

Butters looks at me with wide eyes. I take the brush back and gesture to him to turn his back to me. He does as he is told. I have to smile. Doggos are always too willing, they always want to please. Felines are completely different. I put my hands on his towel-covered back and rub him a little drier. He visibly enjoys it. Even his hind leg starts scratching the floor.

Jackpot!

I take the towel away and throw it in the laundry basket. His still half-damp fur is sticking out in all directions. He looks too funny.

"Oh dear, just look at you... his hair is sticking out in all directions."

I say in a jokingly startled tone. Butters whimpers. He looks in the mirror on the wall and I see panic rising in him.

"Oh no... if my mistress sees me like this... no... no, no, no..."

He's just about to start smoothing his fur with his hands when I put my hands on his shoulders.

"Relax, Butters. It's alright. That's what I'm here for... We're going to get you ready to go out again."

The statement does little to reassure him. I pick up one of the combs and start to roughly shape his coat. After a short time, he looks like a doggo again and not like a Sasquatch. I find little bits of tar all over his back. I use a fine-toothed comb and comb out the sticky mass. Thanks to the shampoo, this goes almost without a hitch. It tugs here and there, but I always let Butters know soon enough and never tire of reminding him why we have this problem now.

"I'll promise my mistress never to crawl under a truck again. Never again..."

I grin.

"Oh really? What if a Feline hides under the truck again? Or worse still, a Squirrel?"

Butters whines. He could get over the Feline, but the Squirrel? He squirms under my hands as I continue to brush out his fur. The tar has now been completely removed. I now try to remove all the loose undercoat. It's incredible how much fur there is on a single doggo. While I continue brushing him, Butters continues to talk about himself, his adventures - he is a great explorer - and his love for his mistress. He would die for her. If anything ever happened to her, he could never forgive himself.

He talks about the neighborhood kids who love playing with him, running after him, fetching balls, roughhousing. And he talks about the bad man who comes by every now and then and always scolds his mistress a lot. She always locks him in the pantry and firmly orders him not to come out. His mistress is always very sad afterwards. He always comforts her and they cuddle together a lot.

I ignore the implications that can be gleaned from his statements. Even if life in the archologies is closer to a utopia from the outside than anywhere else, the abysses are all the deeper if you look even a little behind the façade. Violence, excesses, corruption... it's a real Gomorrah. The love for the pet that some of the owners feel. So the physical love, not the platonic construct that we call love. It is a result of this society. A society in which a life is no longer worth much, because there are so many of them and most of them are practically immortal. Animals love unconditionally. They love because it has been programmed into them and because they are not capable of betraying their humans just like that. This makes lonely people who have no one else feel drawn to their pets, who just love them so much and are usually willing to do anything... and I mean ANYTHING for their humans.

I feel sorry for Butters. Just like all the other poor souls who come into my store. They came into their situation innocently and now have to live with it.

At least Butters is otherwise doing well. He's bright, friendly and completely light-hearted...

"Sooo, that was the back, looks good. Now let's do the front. Turn around, please."

I say calmly, and Butters literally jumps up and turns around.

"Really? Finished? Yay... done..."

I shake my head with a grin and tap the stool again.

"No, not quite yet. We still have to do your front too."

I correct him and can see his eyes darken briefly. But then he sits down again. His tail wags happily to himself.

"I thought we were done."

The disappointment in his voice is palpable, but his friendly, always good-humored disposition quickly pushes itself back to the front and he grins at me.

I indicate that he should stretch out his arms so that I can see better where the knots are in his fur. I use a coarse comb and comb through the stringy coat. I often get stuck on a few knots. Butters is not happy, but he is forced to accept the statement that this is the result of not brushing properly. I brush out the knots that I can brush out, the rest is removed sparingly with the scissors. I slowly work my way down over his chest and stomach. His reaction is not long in coming.

"Are we playing 'red rocket'?... I like 'red rocket'... it's fun and my mistress likes to play it too... but we've been playing it differently lately... But that's nice too..."

He babbles on like a little waterfall again, while I deny his statement.

"No, Butters. We're not playing 'red rocket'... That's a game only your mistress is allowed to play with you. No one else. Do you hear me?"

I use my commanding tone and he nods obediently. He has never played red rocket with anyone else. His mistress has also forbidden him to play this game with the neighbor's children. He sticks to it. So far.

I finish brushing his belly and ask him to stand up. Butters complies immediately and stands in front of me. I remove a few last bits and pieces and stand up. He has become a really handsome little guy, and the fact that we have removed a considerable amount of undercoat in one go makes him look even younger and more athletic.

"Wow Butters. Look at you. You look stunning."

I point to the mirror on the wall and Butters runs over to it. He looks at himself in the mirror with wide eyes.

"Is... is that me?"

He asks, turning back and forth. I approach him from behind and place my hands on his shoulders reassuringly.

"Yes. Yes, Butters, that's you in the mirror. Your mistress will be pleased. You look lovely."

I tell him and stroke him behind the ears.

"A really fine boy."

I say in that awful tone that dog owners always use when they praise their dogs. Butters looks at me questioningly. He hadn't expected this tone at all, but continues to wag his tail.

"Is my mistress coming to pick me up again? I miss my mistress. Will she be here soon? How much longer will it take?..."

I have to grin again.

"Yes, your mistress will come for you soon, but until then you can rest a little longer."

I use my calm voice again and direct the excited dog into the Snoezelen room. When we enter the room, Butters is suddenly very quiet.

"But... I've been good... why do I have to go to the storage room?"

He looks at me with big, brown, loyal eyes. I stroke his cheek.

"This isn't a storeroom. This is a room where you can rest for a while. See there... there's a comfortable bed. You can lie down on it and close your eyes for a while. In the meantime, I'll call your mistress to pick you up."

Butters looks around, sniffs and takes a step into the room, only to turn around again immediately.

"But I don't want to be left alone. What if I get scared? I always get scared when I'm alone."

His voice sounds almost pleading, and normally it wouldn't be a problem at all to let him wait at the front desk for a few minutes. But it's a matter of principle and the fact that I'm the boss and he has to obey me. I crouch down a little. I'm almost at eye level with him. His big, round, brown eyes search mine for help.

"Listen, Butters. Nothing can happen to you here. The bad man isn't here. And I'm right up ahead. Why don't we just give it a try. Come on..."

I take him to the large, softly padded bed and pad on it. Carefully and hesitantly, he climbs onto the mattress.

"... Now lie down. Nothing can happen to you..."

I take one of the weighted blankets and carefully cover him up. Only his comic-like big nose and his eyes are still visible under the blanket. I can feel him slowly calming down.

"... That's it..."

I slide my hand under the blanket and cuddle him a little.

"... You're a good boy. Now get some sleep..."

I slowly pull my hand out again and before he can say anything, I add:

"If you get too scared, you just call me... OK?"

I hear a soft whimper, but his tail wags and he nods from under the covers.

"Good... I'll be right back..."

I slowly get up and leave the room. I deliberately don't close the door, just leave it ajar so as not to stir up his anxiety unnecessarily. I'm glad that he agrees to this little experiment and it shows me that he trusts me. On my way to the counter, I turn around again, but he's not behind me yet. I smile. I dial the number of his owner.

"Yes, hello... yes exactly... Yes Butters is ready so far... You can pick him up in half an hour... Oh he was an angel... a stormy but loving angel... Yes, I'm happy too... see you soon."

I hang up. I make a few notes in my calendar and turn back to the Snoezelen room. I wait for the inevitable, but Butters doesn't actually call me.

I look at my watch and push away from my counter. I walk slowly to the Snoezelen room. I push the door open slowly and am rewarded with a tail wagging under the blanket. I smile and enter the room. I slowly cross the room and sit down next to Butters on the bed. I stroke him over the blanket.

"Well... was it that bad?"

I ask quietly and Butters shakes his head. His answer is somewhat muffled by the blanket.

"No, it wasn't bad... it's different here than in the storeroom... it's so... quiet... so... trusting... I like it here..."

I nod and continue stroking him.

"I'm glad, but you can come to the front now, your mistress will be here soon."

I don't need to say any more. It's almost like a movie. Butters literally shoots out from under the covers and storms to the door. But my whistle makes him stop in mid-sprint. He almost rolls over.

"I said you could come to the front, I didn't say anything about running or romping."

I say calmly and can see him wince. He's messed up again...

I get up slowly and come to him at the door. I put my heavy hand on his shoulder and he looks at me guiltily.

"We'll have to work on that, Butters."

He nods and swallows. He knows that other doggos are brought up using sometimes very harsh methods. I hear the door to my business open and Butters already wants to run off, but I hold him back.

"And we're starting right now."

My tone has a certain sharpness to it, but it still sounds benevolent. Butters makes himself small next to me.

"No, no, Butters... I don't want you to make yourself small. I don't want to subjugate you, I want you to abide by certain rules. There's no running in stores, not even when your mistress calls. And when you're here, I'm the law."

I say calmly and keep my hand on his shoulder. We walk around the corner together and stand behind the counter. Butters' owner is beside herself with excitement when she sees her Doggo.

"Oh my God Butters... you look so great... so young... and so slim... is that even my Butters?"

She can't believe it. I lift my hand from Butters' shoulder and allow him to go to his owner. She hugs him fiercely and he returns the embrace.

"Oh my God... you smell so good... and you're so fluffy again... how did he do that?"

Now all the dams break and Butter's tail wags wildly. He visibly buries himself in her and you can hear his joyful squeals. His mistress is back... She hasn't forgotten him.

I wait until the two of them have calmed down a little and then turn to his owner.

"Well... Butters is a really nice young doggo... but you should really work on his training a bit more. If he continues to be so hyper, it will probably cause a lot of trouble at some point. Otherwise he has behaved wonderfully here. He is very talkative. Some of it, you should explain to him, is not a good idea to announce in public."

She nods knowingly and blushes.

"Don't worry, it's none of my business... but the plainclothes police might see it differently..."

I add. She nods again and looks down at poor Butters, who is still trying to crawl into her.

"I'll keep an eye on it."

She finally says and takes her leave. I watch the two of them for a moment before I go to my work area to tidy up.

Name: Raga

Breed** :** Felis erectus II

Task: Wound dressing

It's late evening. It's been a busy day, I was able to make some customers very happy. My store has actually been closed for several hours. But as is sometimes the case, a Caretaker never really gets off work.

And so I am startled out of my sleep when my phone rings. Tired, I reach for my headset and answer the call.

"This is the... Yes, you've been connected correctly... Calm down, dear Madam... Yes, I'm listening... Of course you can come by... Give me five minutes and I'll be there for you... Yes, see you in a moment..."

I end the conversation and sit up. Tired, I rub the sleep from my eyes and curse quietly. I feel a hand on my arm, gently pulling me back into bed. I smile and stroke it tenderly.

"I'm sorry my darling, but this is an emergency. But don't go away, I'll be back and then we'll pick up where we left off."

The hand reluctantly lets go of me and retreats under the covers. All I hear is a grumpy grumble from under the covers and I can see someone curling up under them. I smile. I stroke the blanket tenderly and get up. I am happy not to have to spend my nights alone. But I rarely get to really make the most of the intimate togetherness. My feet patter on the cold, tiled floor over to a cupboard. I open it and take a package of surgical clothing from a compartment. As I tear open the foil, I try to find my motivation again.

"I'm not doing this for the people... I'm not doing this for the people..."

I mumble to myself as I put on the green jumpsuit and pull it together with the cord behind my back. I leave my chambers and descend the stairs to my store. I have just pulled the surgical cap over my hair and fastened it when I hear the doorbell ring. I hurry and slip into my shoes. I quickly reach my reception desk and press the door opener. A middle-aged woman stands in front of the door, her face adorned with a few severe bruises, supporting a very young Feline. She comes limping into my store and I hurry to meet her.

"Please excuse the late interruption, but I couldn't keep Raga waiting until tomorrow. He didn't deserve that. He just wanted to defend me."

She says and I can hear the strain in her voice. I take over the Feline and offer her a chair. While I take Raga to a stretcher and tell him to lie down, I turn to the woman again.

"No problem, that's my job. But how could this happen? Have you been mugged? Should I call the police? Or an ambulance?"

I ask anxiously and take a few steps towards her. She waves me off tiredly.

"No, no... it's all right. It's not the first time this has happened. But it's the first time an innocent..."

She points to the young Feline on my stretcher.

"... comes to harm. I just need a little rest, then everything will sort itself out."

She adds. I nod silently.

"Good, I'll go and... Raga, was his name?"

She nods.

"That's right. Take care of Raga. You're welcome to wait here, I'll make haste. There's water and coffee over there..."

I point to a vending machine and push the stretcher into my work area. The young Feline wants to stand up, but I gently hold him back.

"It's alright, it won't happen to her here. The reception is CCT monitored. We'll take care of you first."

Reluctantly, he lowers his head again. I can see the pain in his expression. And on a first superficial examination, I can already say with certainty that his arm is broken. And the rattling breathing sound suggests fluid in his lungs. Perhaps a broken rib.

I push the stretcher into my operating room. Raga's eyes widen when he sees the room, which is tiled right up to the ceiling. I lock the wheels on the stretcher and switch on the large lamp hanging from the ceiling on a movable arm.

"Hmmm that looks nasty. So Raga. Tell me how that happened."

Raga's blue-green eyes narrow. Partly because of the bright light, partly because he doesn't want to tell me how this mishap happened.

"Feel free to tell me. Everything we discuss will never leave this room. Not even your mistress will know.

"She's not my mistress."

It's not much more than a whisper. I look at him with raised eyebrows. It's rare for people here to take care of a stray. But he's not a stray either, I can see the tattoo in his ear very clearly.

"Good, she's not your mistress. But that doesn't explain how this happened."

I reply and turn away briefly. I take an injector from the wall and open the fridge. While I'm still looking for the right medication, Raga answers.

"That was my master... He got drunk... I guess that happens more often... The woman... She is a sexual partner of my master... I saw her for the first time today... They were arguing about something."

He breaks off and gasps. I close the fridge and turn to Raga with a tray full of small ampoules and an injector. He looks at me, a little scared.

"Don't worry. These are painkillers and stabilizers. They'll help you get back on your feet. Sooo your master did this... what a shame."

I look at the small display on the stretcher, which tells me the young Feline's weight. I load the injector with an ampoule and set the right dose.

"This is going to pinch a little."

I say and before Raga can say anything back, the first injection is in his arm. He grimaces briefly. It was clear to me that, given his current condition, the injection was the least of his worries. It takes a moment, but then I can see him visibly relax. I take the next ampoule and put it on the injector. I proceed in the same way. The rest of the medication is also injected quickly. Raga's eyes seem very sleepy. A side effect of the painkiller. I smile. The young Feline must be on cloud nine right now.

"Well now, let me take a closer look."

I say quietly and carefully take the feline's arm. I can already feel and see that his forearm is broken in at least one place. I will need an x-ray. I carefully scan the feline's body for other obvious injuries. Although I can't find any specific injuries, I decide to take the precaution of x-raying the torso, abdomen and skull as well as the arm.

"Better safe than sorry."

I grumble and push the stretcher over to my image converter. The machine comes to life as I enter my authorization code. With a machanic whir, the arm of the machine spins once around the stretcher. A rough image of the Feline is shown on the display and I can mark which areas I want to examine more closely. Once I have confirmed which area I want to diagnose, the arm of the device moves to the start position. Normally, the device would be able to work completely silently, but after a few queries from customers, the manufacturer has installed a loudspeaker that imitates the sound of a scanner, because otherwise customers are not sure whether the device is really working.

"Machines have to make noise..."

That's what the salesman said back then, I remember. And I can understand that a machine that is so efficient that it can do its work completely silently is a little scary.

The arm of the machine moves around the stretcher in intricate patterns, accompanied by mechanical whirring and a mixture of beeping and chirping.

Slowly, images appear on the screen that I can make sense of. I see his skull, see the small accumulation of fluid in his cranium. Concussion, bruised cheekbone. Probably a punch to the face. Then I see his torso. Fluid accumulation in the lungs, several cracked ribs. Probably kicked when he was already lying on the ground. I can see a few bruises and haematomas in his abdomen, but nothing dramatic. I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn't need a ruptured spleen or a bruised kidney tonight. I wait for the pictures of the arm. My suspicions are confirmed. The forearm is broken in two places. The assumption is that the arm was raised protectively in an attempt to defend itself and took the brunt of the blow. The force must have been violent to break the ulna and radius in two places each. I shake my head slightly.

"Well Raga, we can't plaster that anymore... we'll have to put two nails in there."

I say with a sigh and program the image converter for the next task. Raga tries to open his eyes, but it is infinitely difficult for him. He can't get out more than a blurred protest. I gently stroke the side of his face that isn't swollen.

"It's alright. Just relax. I've done this thousands of times. Your arm will be like new again."

I say and turn away.

"Stay down, I just need to sort something out with the woman."

Not that he's able to stand up at all, but one wants to be nice. I can hear Raga puffing away. He doesn't seem happy. Who can blame him.

I walk forward to the reception. On the way, I pick up a few cool packs. The woman is sitting on one of the chairs, clutching a mug of coffee. I hand her the cool packs. She accepts them gratefully and puts one of them directly on her swollen eye.

"So... I am listening..."

I say, in a more than obviously annoyed tone. She looks at me questioningly for a moment.

"Don't worry, Raga is taken care of for now. But I'll have to operate on him. He has several broken bones, a concussion and bruises. I'd like to know how this could have happened... and why his master didn't bring him here."

I lean against my counter and cross my arms in front of my chest. The woman sighs deeply.

"Well... If it were up to Raga's owner, the poor thing would still be lying in the living room and probably wouldn't survive the night. That's why I brought him to you. Well... and how this could have happened... Well... I can assume that this conversation will remain confidential?"

I nod.

"I'm what passes for an escort in these circles. Clients can... well... book me for a certain amount of time. This usually involves entertainment, accompanying them to events... other things..."

I nod again.

"I know what an escort is and how the system works. I just didn't think hard BDSM was part of the repertoire."

My voice drips with cynicism. She shrugs her shoulders.

"Well, if the price is right, I'm willing to do a lot of things. But this time it was different. My client was already completely drunk when I arrived. When I tried to make him understand that I wasn't booked to make out with a completely drunk person, he flipped out. Well, one thing led to another..."

She takes the cool pack from her eye and points briefly in the direction of my work area.

"You do realize that the fact that Raga tried to defend you against his own master can be held against him. Assault by a pet against a human... pets have been put down for less."

My voice sounds colder than I want it to. The woman straightens up. There is a fire in her eyes.

"No... no... Raga must not be euthanized. He has done nothing wrong. He tried to defend me against his crazy owner. If anything, he should get an award...I...I..."

I close my eyes and nod slowly. Yes, I think so too, Raga did the only right thing, and now he will pay the price, first one... and later maybe the other...

"I'll see what I can do first. And you should think about getting the police involved... you still have the chance to tell the story as you understand it before his owner does and, in case of doubt, reports you as a thief."

I push myself away from the counter and go back to my work area.

When I arrive in my operating room, Raga is still lying on the stretcher. I take one of the trolleys that are always ready against the wall and wheel it over to the large cupboard that takes up most of the opposite wall. I open a few doors at a time and carefully start to load the trolley.

First comes a surgical drape that covers the steel surface of the trolley.

A few tools are then placed on this cloth. Scalpels, clamps, spreaders, a packet of sterile swabs, a cordless screwdriver, four Kirschner wires, the bolt cutter and stapling pliers.

Another surgical drape is placed on top to cover the tools.

Finally, a few more surgical drapes, two stainless steel kidney dishes, a clipper, a razor and skin disinfectant are placed on top.

When I've gathered up my little collection, I close the doors of my cupboard again and push the trolley over to Raga. I look down at the maltreated body of the young feline and feel great pity. Just as I'm about to turn around and fetch the anaesthetic trolley, I hear something.

Raga's eyes are half open. His voice is a whisper at best.

"My Master... is going... to be... very angry..."

I stroke the non-swollen side of his face again. I can see how much he's enjoying it.

"Let me worry about that. You're going to get some sleep now. I need to fix your arm."

Raga closes his eyes again and I go and fetch the anesthesia trolley. Fortunately, thanks to modern technology, it is quite easy to induce and monitor the anesthesia of the young Feline. Since I don't have to anaesthetize him too deeply to fix his arm, anaesthesia via mask is completely sufficient. I carefully place the mask on his snout and enter the parameters into the computer of the anaesthetic unit. It is able to monitor the patient completely autonomously with the sensors on the stretcher and the image converter and keep the anaesthetic at the desired level at all times.

It only takes a few moments before the screen shows me that the patient is in the desired anaesthetic window. Satisfied, I switch to maintain and turn to my tool trolley. I take the clippers and start clipping the young Feline's forearm. I work quickly, as it doesn't have to be a particularly accurate cut. When I have removed most of the fur, I put the clippers aside and pick up the razor. I check again from the monitor of the image converter that I'm in the right place and completely shave an area about the size of a matchbox. I put the razor aside and cover the stretcher and him with surgical drapes until only his arm is visible. I disinfect the surgical area extensively and thoroughly.

"Oooohh, you're going to hate me."

I say to myself, the orange color of the disinfectant will be difficult to wash off. He will probably walk around with an orange tint in his fur until after his next coat change. I put the disinfectant solution together with the swabs I've made for it in one of the kidney dishes and then put it to one side. I briefly consider whether it would make more sense to operate without blood, but in the end I decide against it. The incisions will be so small that it won't be a major problem. I remove the top surgical drape from my trolley and look at the arsenal I've put together.

I take the scalpel and check the position of my incisions on the screen of the image converter. Satisfied, I put the scalpel to work and make two short cuts about 1 cm long. I put the scalpel aside and take one of the swabs and press it onto the wounds. The swab attaches itself to the wounds and allows me to prepare the first Kirchner wire.

Before I can use the wire, however, I have to reposition the bones. I carefully take Raga's arm in both hands and, under the visual control of the image converter, begin to realign the bones as nature intended. It's not easy to get it right without help, but in the end I manage to align the ulna perfectly. I put the wire in place and screw it through the bone lengthwise with the screwdriver. I take the next wire and after checking the correct position of the first wire and the bone once again, I place the second wire at a slightly offset angle. The ulna is now aligned. That leaves the radius. I follow the same principle and can successfully fix the second forearm bone. I shorten the wires with the bolt cutters and wad the ends, which will protrude about 3 cm from the skin. This is necessary in order to be able to remove them again in about 4 to 6 weeks after the bones have healed. It's not the fine British way, but it's better than using plates and screws or an external fixator. I close the wounds as far as I can with a staple above and below the wires and put my tools away.

"Hmm, we'll give you another splint. Better safe than sorry."

I instruct the image converter to create a 3D model of the forearm and design a splint. It only takes a moment and when I've finished clearing my trolley, I can inspect the result and place the order.

In the fully automated workshop in the basement, the CNC milling machine comes to life and begins to mill a splint from a block of special foam. By the time I am ready and the anesthetic is withdrawn, the finished splint is delivered to the operating theatre by elevator. I check the splint, make a few small adjustments with the scalpel and fit it to the young feline's arm.

...

When Raga finally opens his eyes, he is lying in a dark room. The bed he's lying on isn't exactly comfortable, but it's certainly softer than the stretcher he's been lying on all this time. He blinks a few times to get used to the darkness. Slowly, his senses seem to be coming back to him. However, as consciousness returns, so does the pain. The dull, dizzying and nauseating pain in his head is still there, and the cheek where his master hit him doesn't know exactly whether it wants to burn or just be numb. Every breath still hurts too. But he can feel that his chest feels more stable now. He carefully tries to stroke his flank with his hand. Someone... probably the Caretaker, has applied a bandage. And then there's... his arm... He can't move it. And he can't feel it either.

"Oh no... no, no, no... he had not…"

Panicked, Raga feels for his arm. It seems to be stuck in a splint, but why can't he feel it, why can't he move it?

Just as he is about to sit up, he feels a gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Shhhhh... stay calm... relax... he'll explain it to you in a moment... as soon as he's finished outside."

There's something reassuring about the voice. Raga looks up and recognizes a pair of large green eyes.

"Who are you?"

He finally asks. He is rewarded with a smile.

"Call me Mittens. And now lie still. He'll be here soon. They've been discussing it for some time. It should be over soon."

Raga strains his ears and really he can hear the heated debate.

...

"I know he's your property, but I can't let him go now in his condition, he's not stable enough yet."

"Don't tell me anything. The little ball of fur is fine... they're tough. Get him out of there already."

"Please, Mr. Jamerson, of course I will release your pet from the clinic at the appropriate time, don't worry."

"Do I have to come with a judge's order first? If you deprive me of my property, you are liable to prosecution."

"I'm just as liable to prosecution if I don't fulfill my duty of care."

"You already failed to do that when you took him in without consulting me first!"

"I admitted Raga as an emergency. You weren't available at the time."

"I don't care about that. The fact that you believed this... this whore... and carried out these measures without my consent. I will not cover the costs."

"That's not a problem. The costs have already been paid in full."

"If the costs have already been paid, then you can hand over my property. So bring it here. Immediately."

"Sir, I hate to repeat myself. From a medical point of view, I cannot possibly release Raga at this time. Tomorrow morning he should be stable enough for you to pick him up. By then, I will also have drawn up the report and treatment plan for aftercare."

"What kind of treatment plan, what kind of aftercare?"

"Well, in order for Raga to continue using his arm, treatment will be necessary, and in about 4 to 6 weeks the wires will need to be removed."

"What kind of wires?"

"Well, Raga's forearm was completely broken in two places. In order for him to heal properly, we had to drill four wires through his arm. This means that your pet is strictly forbidden to put any weight on his arm for four weeks. After that we will see how well everything has healed. If all is well, we can remove the wires. The wounds will heal and the arm will then be fully usable again. If not. We may have to amputate. But that is primarily up to you. It's up to you to ensure that Raga makes a full recovery."

...

A long pause follows. The words spoken afterwards are much quieter. Raga can no longer understand them. But it was clear from the start who was talking and to whom. The young Feline looks nervously up at Mittens, who is still holding a steady hand on his shoulder. After a while, the two of them can hear the doorbell of the store and a short time later the door to their room slowly opens.

I enter the room quietly and see Mittens standing behind the bed, gently holding Raga down. I nod to her. She withdraws silently. I approach the bed. Raga looks at me with wide, fear-filled eyes.

"Don't worry. I think your master has understood what this is about. But of course I can't guarantee that something like this won't happen again."

I take a closer look at my work.

"How do you feel?"

I ask gently. Raga looks past me to the door.

"Don't worry, he's gone, he'll be back tomorrow, or the day after. Then when I decide it's time."

It takes him a moment to answer.

"I'm still in pain and I can't feel my arm."

His lips tremble slightly and I can see his other hand running over the fold in the comforter again and again. A skipping action due to great stress. I nod calmly and pull up a chair.

"Well, the pain will last a few more days. I'll give you some medication for it. And I'll write a report to your owner. But whether he'll stick to it... well... I can't guarantee that, of course. As for your injured arm. I have placed a blockade. It will last for about 24 hours. Otherwise the pain would be too severe. Tomorrow the worst of it will have subsided and as long as you don't put any weight on the arm, it shouldn't hurt any more. It's just important that you keep moving your fingers from tomorrow. Look here."

I raise my hand and show him how I move my thumb to each finger in turn. Over and over again. He imitates me with his other hand.

"That's it."

I turn to Mittens. And after a brief eye contact, she bows and silently leaves the room.

"Good, I'll give you something for the pain now. Don't worry, it's not as strong as the stuff I gave you earlier, but it's good enough to give you a good night's sleep. Sleep that you can only use too well. Get some rest. Get as much rest as you can."

I take a blister from my pocket and squeeze out two tablets. I place them on the bedside table and take the bottle of water that is there. I unscrew the cap and pour some into the cup that is waiting for me. I close the bottle again, but only tighten the lid so that he can definitely open it with one hand. I pick up the two pills again and the cup.

"What's that?"

His voice trembles with uncertainty.

"Basically a tilidine derivative. It works quite well, there's some addictive potential in larger doses, but not if we only use it for a short time."

He hesitates, he looks me in the eye for a long time, I withstand his gaze effortlessly. Finally, he takes the pills, shoves them in his mouth and then takes the cup to help himself swallow. He drinks the whole cup and hands it back to me.

"The analgesic effect takes about 10 to 15 minutes. There's a bell here on the bedside table, so if there's a problem, just ring it. If you have business to do, please ring the bell. Mittens will then come and help you. I doubt that you will be able to walk well yet. Otherwise, have a good night, relax, try not to dream."

I'm about to stand up when he grabs my arm. It's not like he can exert much strength in his condition, but he holds me tight. I shift my weight back onto the chair.

"I... I-I'm scared..."

I blink and smile softly. I put my hand on his and stroke it.

"What are you scared of?"

I ask calmly and can almost guess the answer. He takes several breaths and tries to answer.

"Calm down, nothing can happen to you here."

He looks at me with trembling eyes.

"I'm afraid to go back to him. W-what if something like that happens again?"

His voice breaks and tears gather in his eyes. I want so much to comfort him, but I can't. I let my head sink and take a deep breath.

"Well Raga. No one can garantee that to you. The only advice I can give you is to hold your distance from him if he is drunk and never stand in his way. Even if he is beating up someone else, don't ever get between him and his victim."

His eyes are veiled by his tears and I can feel him getting upset, but he knows what the rules are and he also knows that his owner would have every right to just put him down and no one would be able to say anything against it. But that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to accept.

"I'm afraid to dream about him."

He finally adds. I look at him and smile, I can understand that.

"Well, I'll make you a suggestion. I'll send Mittens down, she'll watch over you while you sleep."

He nods slowly. I nod too and let go of his hand. Slowly, I get up and walk to the door. I pull the door shut behind me, but leave a small gap open so as not to leave him completely alone. Tired, I trudge up the stairs to my private chambers. I am already expected. Mittens is sitting on the bed and beaming at me. I already hate myself for what I'm doing to myself now.

"Master, you're finally back. Your emergency took far too long. Mittens is all lonely."

I smile and stroke her cheek and her head rests heavily in my hand.

"Yes, but the cuddle will have to wait."

Mittens does not agree with this at all.

"Nyaah? No. Mittens has been good. I've been waiting for you all day, Master. You helped a lot of people. Just not little Mittens. Now it's Mittens' turn! Nyaaah!"

She crosses her arms in front of her chest and looks really upset. I completely understand why. I too had been looking forward to a cozy round of cuddling. But life sometimes plays out differently.

"Yes, I know, and I'll reward you twice tomorrow, I promise. I might even add a tin of tuna on top if you behave yourself now."

I can see the little gears turning in her head. She is well aware of the concept. And a bigger reward, especially as there's not much left of this night anyway, and the prospect of tuna are tempting.

"Nyooh. What do you want me to do?"

She finally asks submissively. I smile and scratch her behind the ear.

"I knew you would be understanding. Raga is afraid to be alone. Keep him company. Sleep by him."

I see the glint in her eyes.

"I said by him, not with him"

"Nyooohh..."

And there it's gone again. But she grabs a pillow and jumps off the bed. She hugs me as she passes and then leaves the room. I look after her and shake my head. Tired, I strip off my scrubs and just fall into bed. I don't feel like my head has touched the pillow when my snoring fills the room.

...

The next morning I quickly write the report for Raga's owner and the therapy recommendation. I'm pretty sure that I'll be the one to do the therapy, but it has to be written nonetheless. After I've done everything and put together a little care package for Raga, I decide to go and check on the two sleepyheads. Slowly and quietly, I sneak into my recovery room and find them both snuggled up together asleep. I can't help but grin and wake Mittens up very carefully. She starts to purr and slowly opens her eyes. She smiles sleepily at me.

"It's about time."

I say quietly and she nods. I leave the room again and dial the number of Raga's owner. When I arrive at reception, he picks up.

"Yes, this is the Caretaker... Yes, you can come by... Raga is allowed to leave the clinic... As I mentioned yesterday, there are a few rules to follow... Of course, I have everything in writing for you... You're welcome... I can understand your displeasure... No, no further damage has been done... All right, see you in a minute."

I hang up. When I turn around, Mittens and Raga are standing in front of me. Raga looks very unhappy, Mittens is standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder. I crouch down slightly.

"I've just spoken to your owner. He seems to have calmed down a bit. He sounded quite reasonable. I don't think he realized how much he hurt you. He seems to understand at least halfway now. Now don't hang your head. When he arrives. Apologize to him for standing up to him. YES, I know it feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do right now."

I stroke his cheek and stand up.

"Th-thank you."

His voice is still very quiet and reserved. But maybe that's just his way. I nod and then look at Mittens. She bows and then withdraws.

It's not long before Raga's owner opens the door. He's a tall, hulking man. He is holding a large bag from a local pet supply store. He stops in the middle of the room and seems to realize for the first time what he has done to his pet, who is sitting on a chair behind my counter.

Raga looks completely terrified. His face is completely puffy and one eye is still bloodshot. The swelling on his right cheek indicates a large bruise. He is carrying his arm with its splint in a sling and is holding his other arm protectively over it. The tape bandage in bright red stands out against the otherwise gray-brown tabby coat.

Raga's owner carefully puts the bag down. I can see how it is working inside him.

"You should have seen him last night when I took him in. Now he looks presentable again."

My comment is so icy cold that the temperature in the room drops noticeably. He looks at me dumbfounded.

"What... what have I done...?"

He asks quietly. I look at Raga, who would prefer to melt into the wall behind him, or simply cease to exist, as long as it means not having to return to his owner.

"I'd say you've lost your pet's trust. Your pet is afraid of you. Panicked, irrational fear."

I turn back to the owner.

"Whether this fear is justified or not remains to be seen, but overcoming this fear will cost you a lot of time and goodwill on the part of your pet."

He nods. He knows he has made a big mistake. He is fully aware of it. But how he can make up for it now... That is a mystery to him.

"Raga..."

My voice is calm and relaxed.

"... Go to your master. It's time."

I can see how much the young Feline is struggling with himself. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his owner trying to cheer him on, but I stop him with a wave of my finger. I nod slowly to Raga.

"You know it's the right thing to do."

The young Feline gives himself a jolt and slides down from the chair. Hesitantly, he takes step after step towards his owner. The closer he gets, the more strength it takes. His owner is now on his knees with his arms outstretched. Raga stops just out of reach. He looks around uncertainly for me. I stand behind the counter, my hands propped up, and nod to him.

"Ma-master... I-I want to apologize... I-I shouldn't have gone against you... p-please forgive me."

His voice breaks and he lowers his head. Raga's owner does not know what is happening to him. He searches for words. I can see his cheeks flush. I nod. Raga still hesitates, but finally takes the last step forward and his owner can embrace him with great care.

"Of course I forgive you..."

He says before burying his face in the young Feline's fur. Raga stands there, completely overwhelmed. He remembers something Mittens had told him.

"Humans are strange. Don't try to understand them. Live in the moment. Don't hold on to the past."

Raga returns the hug.

...

It takes a while for Raga's owner to finally come around. I can explain the therapy plan to him and he agrees that I should take over the therapy.

When they finally leave my store, Raga no longer looks quite so frightened. However, I'm not so sure that his owner will remember all his good intentions the next time he gets drunk again...

I'm lying in my bed, fast asleep. I'm having one of those dreams that you can't remember once you've woken up. I'm enjoying it and would actually like to hold on to it for a while longer, but something slowly but surely drags me out of the land of dreams and back into reality. I wake up very slowly.

It is her soft purring and the gentle vibration of her body that slowly pulls me from the depths of my sleep to the surface of consciousness. I love it when Mittens wakes me up like this. She is snuggled up close to me. Her head is on my chest and I can feel her, feel her silky fur, her intense warmth and the gentle vibrations of her purring. My arm is wrapped around her body and holds her close. It is an infinitely relaxed kind of awakening.

But today there is something else. I don't realize it at first because I'm concentrating so hard on her purring, but I feel something else. Only now do I realize the rhythmic movements of her arm and feel her velvety soft hand closed around my manhood. It's a bit of a shock, but I recover from it very quickly.

It feels heavenly and her movements are skillful. For a moment I think about stopping it, but it feels so good and as she has started on her own without me doing anything, it would be mean to stop her now. She hasn't noticed that I'm awake yet. She is completely absorbed in what she is doing. I lie still and try to realize where exactly I have my hand. It is on her flank. I let it slide off her flank as unobtrusively as possible. Very slowly. I let it slide until it lies on Mitten's bottom.

Her purring gets louder and she snuggles closer to me. She pulls her leg up and places it on my thigh. Her hand closes tighter around me and she speeds up her rhythm a little. I can feel a certain pressure slowly building up inside me. And I can feel it getting wet on my thigh.

I decide that now is the time to make it clear to my little assistant that I'm awake. My hand is already on her cute little bottom. I grasp it boldly and enjoy the moment when Mittens simultaneously squeals, pulls her head up, looks at me in complete amazement and doesn't know what to do with her hand, which is still firmly closed around my member. I lift my head slightly and look into her large, round, blue-green eyes. She opened her mouth slightly, searching for words.

"Good morning Mittens."

I say softly, smiling. Her mouth moves but no sound comes out. Some of her muscles twitch slightly and her hand tenses a little. I lift my second hand to her cheek and stroke it lightly.

"I see you've already found something to do."

I say sympathetically. I can almost see panic rising in her eyes as she slowly lets go of my member. She puts her ears back carefully and I see her swallow. I smile gently and stroke her cheek a little more.

"Hey, it's alright. It feels really good."

I say softly and hug her a little tighter. I can feel her relax a little. Before she can really react, I pull her up towards me a little, draw her mouth towards me and kiss her gently. This comes as a surprise to her and for a moment she seems to resist, but then she gives in to the kiss. She pulls her hand up and wraps her arm around my neck. She pulls herself up against me and deepens the kiss. I can feel her open her mouth a little wider and her tongue slides into my mouth. I return the kiss and enjoy the intimate moment with her.

I have waited so long for this. I have always felt a deep affection for Mittens. But I never wanted to push Mittens with it.

Her tongue is rough. It's a completely new experience for me. I have to be careful with her sharp teeth. When she finally breaks the kiss and pushes herself up a little, I can see the desire in her eyes. My hand, which is still on her cheek, slides down her neck, over her flank to her waist. She breathes deeply and I can feel her hot breath on my chest. She swallows.

"M-master... I-I want... hmm..."

Her voice is filled with desire and longing for love, affection and... more. She grinds her pelvis over my stomach. I can feel how hot and wet she already is. Her thighs press against my flanks and her tail is lashing vigorously to the left and right. My hands find their way to Mitten's hips and my thumbs come to rest on her loins.

"Are you sure you want this Mittens?"

I ask softly, only slightly overpowering her loud purr. It's not that I don't want it. Oh my God how much I want to be in this pussycat, but I don't want it to be my decision. She looks at me out of her big eyes. I can feel her body shaking with excitement. She bites her lip and nods. Something inside me rears up. I fight down the urge to take her right here and now. Mittens should set the pace.

I take my hand off her hip and lift it once more to her cheek. Her fur feels so infinitely soft. I stroke her cheek and bring her down to me once more. Our lips meet once more. This time we kiss each other deeply and intimately from the start. My hand remains on her cheek while my other hand reaches around her hip and grips her buttock firmly.

Mittens moans briefly during our kiss, but then intensifies the kiss even more. I almost feel like she wants to suck my tongue out of my mouth. When we interrupt the kiss again, she bites my lower lip and pulls on it. I can't help but smile.

"Naughty kitten..."

I scold jokingly. She glares at me and puts her ears back.

"Mmmrrrouuuuww..."

She growls and humps her back slightly. She grinds her hips trembling on my stomach. The implications of these movements make me inhale sharply. She leans on my shoulders.

"Haaa... hnnn... M-master... I want it... now..."

She moans, purring, and I feel her claws dig into my shoulders. I nod, finding it harder by the second to hold back. I place both hands on her hips and gently guide her down. As my member presses against her private parts from below, Mittens gasps for air and looks at me longingly. She trembles with excitement and anticipation. I lift her pelvis slightly, she helps me with the movement and lifts her over my member. As I slowly lower her again and the tip of my manhood touches her vagina, Mittens is already moaning.

"Hnnn..."

I pause and look at the lovely face above mine. Her eyes are wide open and she gasps for air. It is she herself who finally sits down on top of me. It takes us a moment to find the entrance to her love tunnel. She presses her lips together as she slowly impales herself on me. It's only at this moment that I realize that Mittens must still be a virgin. I open my mouth as I slowly penetrate her, but before I can say anything, she pushes herself down with all her weight. She inhales sharply and closes her eyes convulsively.

"Nyaaaa..."

She lets out. I can do nothing but hold her tight. She lets herself fall onto my chest and breathes heavily. She tries to suppress the pain. I hug her petite figure and stroke her back. I lift my head and kiss her forehead gently.

"It... hurts... hnnn..."

She presses out between clenched teeth. I hold her gently and continue to stroke her. She continues to purr to calm herself down.

"I know... It will soon pass..."

I whisper and give her another kiss. She nods slightly and starts to sit up again. I can see the pain on her face. I let my hands slide back down to her hips. She leans on me a little and looks at me. She breathes deeply and swallows. Slowly and hesitantly, she begins to move. She grinds her trembling hips against mine. Her vagina is so hot, and it is so inviting.

"Ahhnn... hnnn... Nyaaa..."

You can still hear the pain in her voice, but with every movement it lessens. Little by little, her movements become more fluid and her facial expression slowly changes. Every movement in her drives me into higher spheres. My own moans mingle with hers. She looks down at me, her face contorted into a grimace somewhere between agony and pleasure. Her breathing is fast and blows hot in my face as she bends her body on top of me. Under my hands I can feel her muscles tense and move. Every time she moves her pelvis, she milks my cock more. I find myself moving my hips in time with her to penetrate her deeper. The play of her internal muscles brings me close to my limits. I grit my teeth and clench my stomach muscles to hold out a little longer. Mittens straightens up, leaning on my hands on her hips. She shouts her horniness into the room.

"Nyaaa... more... I need more... aaahhnnn..."

She changes her movement pattern and now tries to move more up and down. I can feel her muscles tense up. Even through her black fur I can see her defined muscles.

"Raaaaaarr..."

She growls as she bends backwards and leans on my thighs. In a last ditch effort to hold on a little longer, I clutch my hands in the sheet, but it's no use. My body rears up and I feel my orgasm flood through me. I lift my pelvis and with it Mittens. My eruption is strong and I can feel my semen flowing into her tight vagina. My muscle tension collapses and I fall back onto the mattress with Mittens. However, the stimulation of my climax and the little rollercoaster ride that came with it is enough to push Mittens over the edge too.

"Nyaahaannn... aaahahhnnn..."

She screams out her own climax. Her body trembles and falls backwards between my legs. We lie like that for a moment. Connected in our climax. I breathe heavily. Only now do I really realize what has just happened. On the one hand, I'm shocked that I let myself get carried away, as I've always looked down with a certain contempt on the owners of my patients who ravage their pets. On the other hand, a long-cherished, secret dream is coming true and it wasn't me who initiated it but Mittens. I make excuses about the fact that it wasn't me who had sex with Mittens, but Mittens who had sex with me. This is only a small consolation for my conscience, as it knows about the desire I've had inside me for so long.

I feel for Mittens and stroke her thighs. Her muscles are still twitching slightly. I can hear her rapid, panting breath.

"Is everything OK with you Mittens?"

I ask, not yet daring to sit up. I can feel her moving between my legs. I help her to stretch her legs. She pulls her legs up and turns around. She snuggles up next to me and rests her head on my chest. Her hand strokes my stomach.

"Yes. Everything's fine."

She says softly. She is still slightly out of breath but she sounds happy.

"Was it all like that what you wished for?"

I ask softly and put my hand on her back. She nods.

"Yes. It was everything I wished for... and much more..."

She purrs softly and snuggles close to me. We lie like that for quite a while. The first appointment isn't for a few hours...

...

Name: Pumpkin

Breed** :** Felis Erectus II

Task: Psychotherapy

Today is a pretty relaxed day. A few clients for grooming, nothing special, and an appointment for psychotherapy.

"Psychotherapy is a specialty that only really took off with genetically modified pets. Before that, you looked at the animal and then tried to explain behaviors to the owner and find patterns to change these behaviors in the pets. Basically, people used to treat people, not animals. In my opinion, this was the right method.

But with the advent of genetically modified pets of the second generation, this has changed fundamentally. Since animals have been able to communicate with us openly and on a human level, therapy has classically shifted to the animal.

Now we try to understand the animal itself and try to teach the animal patterns and behaviors to cope with the tics and habits of its owner. Completely absurd. Especially in cases where the human is clearly the problem and not the animal. But since humans are the ones who pay and we have to pay our bills somehow, we accept the problem as it is, because let's be honest, we're not going to change this society."

I sit on my bed and stroke Mitten's head. She is lying next to me on the bed and has put her head on my lap. She purrs softly and enjoys the attention. She knows that there is no point in contradicting her owner with these thoughts. She knows only too well that I'm right. She's been with me long enough and has seen enough pets come and go to know that humanity is completely sick. She is happy to have ended up with me because I take time for her and make an effort to satisfy her needs. In return, she makes an effort to satisfy mine. I had called it a win-win.

"I'll have to go down in a minute Mittens."

I say quietly. My hand slides under her chin and caresses it for a moment before sliding further down her neck to her shoulders. Mittens murmurs softly, but knows she can't stop the interruption to her well-earned cuddles. She turns onto her back and looks up at her owner. Her big blue-green eyes say so much, even without words. I smile. I know she understands and that I will reward her for it later. For now, I content myself with looking into her eyes and stroking her cheek.

"Later... we'll have time later."

She nods slightly and closes her eyes. With a sigh, she sits up and releases my lap. I stand up and turn back to my kitten. She is kneeling on the bed and smiling seductively at me. I return the smile and leave the room without another word.

I slowly descend the stairs to the salesroom and close the door labeled Private behind me. I check my watch, my customer should be here any minute. In a good mood, I lean against my counter and wait. It's not long before I see the big car pull up outside the door. The driver gets out and circles the vehicle. He opens the passenger door of his car and waits for the passenger to get out. He closes the door and walks ahead to the door of The Caretaker, as my Sallon is known. He opens the door and literally pushes the Feline into the store. He is a rather average-sized man, but he is in excellent physical condition. You can see his muscular build through his clothes and his stance reveals that he knows how to use those muscles. He doesn't look directly brutal, but he definitely has a short fuse. This becomes immediately clear when he raises his voice for the first time:

"Now don't take so long. The appointment is expensive."

His voice is calm, but the aggressive undertone is clearly audible. The Feline walks slowly into the room with her hands folded in front of her body and her head bowed. Her posture is completely submissive. She flinches noticeably at the slightest hint in her owner's tone of voice. She stands a little to one side and does not move. Her owner approaches the counter with firm steps.

"Greetings to you. That's Pumpkin there. She has an appointment."

The way he modulates his voice suggests a military background. Every sentence is a statement. There are no questions, no ambiguities, just hard and irrefutable facts. I check the calendar and nod.

"That's correct. An appointment for a therapy session."

My voice is completely relaxed and with a glance at Pumpkin, I know that this will be especially necessary today. Her owner nods stiffly.

"Good, I'll leave her in your care."

He adds just as stiffly and is about to leave when I briefly hold him back again.

"Is there anything I should know about the background? Has something happened? Or is there any wrongdoing that Pumpkin is here for today?"

I ask and pull out my pen so I can quickly make notes. The owner looks at me, puzzled. I can see the cogs in his head rattling.

"I don't know what it is, but she can't do her job. I constantly have to tell her that she's too slow or too sloppy. And always these excuses. I don't want to lay a hand on her, but she's practically forcing me to."

I make a note of everything in bullet points and then look at him again.

"Have you ever laid a hand on Pumpkin?"

His head changes color slightly.

"No, I haven't! And even if I had. She's my property and I can do what I want with her!"

I raise my hands in a placating gesture.

"Please excuse me, I didn't mean to imply anything. It was just that I want to understand better why Pumpkin is the way she is so that I can help her, and therefore you, too."

His tension subsides just as quickly as it had built up.

"Yes, exactly. Quackery like that. That's exactly what she's here for. Do that. Make sure she's on track when I come to pick her up."

And with that, he turns on his heel and stomps towards the door.

"And you, behave yourself."

He points his finger at Pumpkin again, who shrinks considerably, and then leaves the store. When the door closes and the doorbell rings, Pumpkin and I just stand there for a moment while her owner gets into his car and drives away.

I take a deep breath and look at Pumpkin. I can see tears in her eyes. She is trembling slightly. I put on a smile and open the partition to my work area. I wait a moment and then turn to Pumpkin.

"Shall we?"

I ask quietly. I can see her flinch again. But there is no reaction. I wait, knowing that if I approach her now, I will only increase the irritation.

"I won't bite you. But so that I can help you, it would be nice if you came with me."

My voice remains quiet and completely relaxed. I try to banish any tone of command from my voice. I continue to wait without moving. It takes a little while before she raises her eyes enough to look at me. Her amber-colored eyes stand out in her otherwise pitch-black face. Tears have gathered at the bottom of her eyes and are slowly running down her cheeks. She continues to hesitate. I continue to smile kindly and beckon her towards me.

"Come on girl, let's talk about it."

She gives herself a jolt and approaches me very slowly. I can see that she associates being called over with something very negative and is probably already extremely negatively conditioned. As she walks past me, I point to a green door at the end of the corridor.

"Go on in, make yourself comfortable, I'll be right behind you."

She doesn't look at me and walks on very slowly. Meanwhile, I go into my little tea kitchen and put two cups under my tea machine. I select a soothing blend and press the brew button. While the tea is brewing, I take a tray and arrange a few little things on it. In addition to the usual rock candy, milk and lemon, I take a packet of cookies from the cupboard and fill a small bowl with them. Satisfied with my selection, I take the two cups, place them on the tray and leave the room. I walk down the corridor and stop in front of the green door. I open it slowly and see Pumpkin kneeling with her head bowed next to the small table in the middle of the room. I think about the implications for a moment and then approach. I carefully place the tray on the small table and take a seat in my large, comfortable armchair. I wait a moment before turning to Pumpkin.

"Would you like to stay there, or would you prefer to sit here on this couch?"

My voice is still calm, composed and I point to the sofa opposite me, completely relaxed. I can see her ears playing and can see the cogs in her head turning. She lifts her head a little. Again, just enough to look at me.

"But my place is here... on the floor."

I pick up the notepad lying on the table and make a few little notes before turning back to Pumpkin.

"Is this how it is at home? Is that your place, kneeling next to the table?"

She immediately understands that she has said something she probably shouldn't have. Her head lowers again and she looks stubbornly straight ahead at the floor. I make another little note. I reach for one of the cups and hand it down to her.

"All right. I will respect your wish. But only on the condition that you accept my wish too. Give and take."

She looks at the cup. She reaches for it hesitantly and with trembling hands. I smile and take my cup from the tray.

"I want you to look at me when we talk. And by that I mean that you lift your head and really look at me. I'm not going to do anything to you, I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not going to force you to do anything. But I would like to be able to look at the other person when I speak to them. Can we agree on that?"

I ask. It takes a moment again, but she finally lifts her head and looks at me. She has a beautiful face. Narrow for a feline and her eyes have a nice warm color. I nod appreciatively.

"That's better. I can't forbid your owner to make rules, even if I don't agree with them. He can literally do whatever he wants. But as long as you're here. You can sit on the sofa, you can drink your tea from the cup and you can talk to me. About anything. Because nothing we talk about here will ever reach your owner's ears."

I say calmly and quietly. She looks at me long and scrutinizingly. I can feel her searching inside me for the lie. I let her and wait calmly. I sip my tea. Finally, she breaks eye contact and looks at the cup. She hesitantly brings it to her nose and smells it. It takes a moment, but then she carefully takes a sip. She tests the taste for a long time before swallowing the hot brew. She takes another deep breath and looks at me again. I am allowed to hear her voice again. That quiet, soft, fragile voice that seems just loud enough for me to hear.

"Will my Master really not find out about what we're discussing here?"

She sounds uncertain, completely frightened and intimidated. I nod slightly and repeat my offer of the sofa. She looks at the soft cushion and I can see the longing for it in her eyes.

"Really?"

I nod again. She rises slowly but with infinite elegance from the floor. Her slender stature, clad in black fur, only emphasizes her elegance. It's always amazing how effortless these movements look on the Felines. I smile as she sits down just as elegantly on the sofa. I can literally feel the relaxation emanating from her as she sits down on the cushion. It seems like it's been ages since she's sat on anything similar. I give her a moment to enjoy herself before I speak to her again.

"So Pumpkin, why are you here?"

I ask quietly and pick up my notepad again. I look her in the eye and smile gently. I give her time to answer, we're in no hurry. She looks at me questioningly. I can see that she doesn't know exactly what to say. She turns the cup back and forth in her hands. I can see worry rising in her. I blink slowly and take another breath.

"Just relax. I know what your owner said, but I want to hear your side of things before we work on a solution."

My voice is completely calm and relaxed and I try to look just as calm. She looks down at her cup for a moment and swallows. She pauses and carefully forms her sentences before looking back over at me.

"My Master gives me tasks and I don't manage to complete them to his satisfaction. My master is then dissatisfied with my performance and punishes me accordingly. He hopes that my performance will improve when I am here and that they will realize what the problem is."

She speaks very quietly and I realize immediately that these are not her words, but that this has been drilled into her for so long that she has accepted it as such. I make a few notes and lean back. I think about what has been said for a moment. Pumpkin, meanwhile, sits on the edge of the sofa and sips from her mug. Her eyes are fixed on the cookies. I smile.

"Go ahead..."

I say quietly and straighten up a little. As she hesitantly reaches for one of the cookies, I speak to her again.

"Are those really your words? Or are they the words your owner uses?"

She winces. I nod knowingly, but say nothing. She feels caught out. When she doesn't answer directly, but holds the cookie protectively in front of her, I ask.

"So, Pumpkin, are these really your words?"

It takes a little while, but then she shakes her head. I nod again.

"I thought so. Let's be honest with each other. I can only help you if you answer me honestly. So when I ask you why you're here, I don't want to know why your owner sent you here, I want to know why YOU are here."

I speak softly but insistently. I emphasize that it's about her, not her owner. She looks at me for a long time and tries to start a sentence several times, but breaks off each time.

"I... I... um... hmm... are you sure none of this will ever go to my Master?"

The fear in her voice is palpable, but I nod.

"Nothing that happens in this room will ever be passed on to your master. What happens here stays here."

She takes a deep breath and nibbles on the cookie. She chews thoughtfully and looks at me again.

"I... I... can't do it... my Master trashes the house every day and then tells me to put it back in order. He then watches me try to put everything back in order while he sits on the sofa and masturbates. Of course I can't do it. I'm small, and weak and alone... And if the result doesn't meet his expectations, he punishes me."

She lowers her gaze and picks up her cup again. She stares into the tea as if searching for something. I nod slowly and make a few more notes. I pick up my cup too and sip the bittersweet drink before I turn my word back to the little Feline.

"You feel you've been treated unfairly."

It's not a question, it's a statement. She lifts her gaze and I can see tears in her eyes. She nods.

"It is unfair. I didn't make the mess. He only does it because he gets off on seeing me slave away. I would keep the house clean. I would manage that. But not if he deliberately messes things up."

Her voice almost cracks. I can hear the anger and desperation in her voice. I have to admit that I can understand her. If I were her, I would feel like a fool too. But she's in a situation that plays into her owner's hands. I put my cup down again and make a few more notes.

"Well, Pumpkin. I completely understand, but we, or rather you, are in a situation that we can't change from the ground up."

I lean forward, closer to her.

"According to the law, your owner has every right to do as he pleases. All we can do is try to change his behavior to some extent."

She looks at me questioningly. I take a cookie and look at it for a moment before eating it. It gives me a little time to prepare my next sentences so that I don't overstep my rights.

"Your owner gets sexual arousal from humiliating and punishing you. That much is clear. Of course, that's not very nice for you as such, but at least he hasn't laid a hand on you yet. Right?"

She seems to startle at my last question and shakes her head vigorously.

"Well, at least something. How does he usually punish you?"

She looks at me, a little shocked. I nod. Too fast, too much... I make a placating gesture.

"It's okay... it's just a matter of me understanding, we're trying to figure out how to help you, after all."

She turns the cup in her hands. I can see the little cogs turning in her head. When she looks at me again, I can see how embarrassed she is. She starts to say something, but then stops. She looks at me with her big amber eyes and I can see her struggling with herself. I nod slowly. She takes a deep breath and starts again.

"If... if... haaa... if I couldn't complete the tasks to his satisfaction... then... then he demands that... hmmm... that I do it for him... in front of him..."

She begins to tremble. I straighten up... I can almost guess what she wants to tell me. But before I can stop her, she presses out between clenched teeth:

"... I have to masturbate for him..."

Now she literally breaks down. I nod knowingly. I'd basically already figured it out. First the humiliation through the unnecessarily difficult task, which is set in such a way that she has no chance of mastering it from the outset, then the ultimate escalation by forcing her to humiliate herself in front of him and satisfy herself. It will be difficult to change that. It won't be enough for him to offer to masturbate just like that. The humiliation beforehand is part of the ritual and therefore also part of his fetish. I look over at the pile of misery sitting on my sofa, sobbing and wondering why she of all people has been given such an owner. I could explain to her at length that she is lucky to have an owner who "only" humiliates and psychologically abuses her. That I know plenty of owners who physically abuse, torture or do worse to their pets. But that probably wouldn't help her at the moment. I wait a moment, give her the time she needs to calm down a bit. When she looks at me again, her eyes are red and her fur on her cheeks is completely soaked. Her lips are trembling and she has put her ears back. Before I can say anything, she bursts out.

"He's a perverted swine... and the worst thing about it is... that he won't even touch me..."

By now, the anger in her voice prevails, interrupted by sobs again and again.

"... if he would at least touch me... then at least I would know that he finds me sexually arousing... but it's not me that's sexually arousing for him... it's just the power he has over me that excites him... there could be anything... as long as it's completely submissive to him, it makes him horny..."

She practically screams the last statements in my face. I'm almost amazed that she can get so loud. But her statement also sheds a whole new light on her problem. Does she possibly want him to lay a hand on her? Not that it doesn't happen... it's rarer, but since pets have gained a much more human consciousness, there have been some changes here too. I nod.

"Now please don't take this the wrong way Pumpkin, but could it be that you secretly wish for him to touch you. To chastise you and even go further if necessary?"

I ask, and my tone leaves no question as to what I mean. Pumpkin flinches a little again. I've hit a sore spot. Well, I can understand that. From a completely different point of view, many pets are completely sexually frustrated. They don't have mates, most of them at least, and those that do are usually neutered, or at least spayed, as no unplanned offspring is desired. As a rule, they are not granted sexual satisfaction, with the exception of a few cases, and even then it is usually not necessarily consensual.

I take a deep breath and look at my notes. I cross out a few points and add a few new ones before looking over at the little Feline again. She is trembling. I can't quite tell if it's anger or shame. She can't be cold.

"So Pumpkin? Please talk to me. I can only really help you if I know what's bothering you. Because only then can we perhaps find a solution that helps both you and your owner."

She looks at me and seems completely unsettled. Of course, it's possible that she hasn't asked herself this question yet. 'Do I want him to touch me?' She swallows.

"He will never touch me. It would be beneath him to touch me. No matter how. It would be a form of attention he would give me. He would see that alone as a reward. No. He won't touch me."

Her voice is again the usual low murmur that I already know from her. I shake my head slowly.

"I didn't ask you that, Pumpkin. I asked you if you wanted him to touch you, in any way or for any purpose."

I speak softly and very insistently. I want my answer and I'm not going to let her avoid it. She chews her lip but maintains eye contact.

"Yes... yes I want him to touch me. I want that when he punishes me, he chastises me. I want him to touch me if he's going to perform sexual acts on himself while I'm pleasuring myself for him. I would touch him too, if he would let me. Anything... just not this constant contempt... no matter what..."

She gets a little louder again towards the end. There's desperation in her voice and her eyes are literally pleading with me. I nod and complete my notes. I pick up my cup and empty it. I put the empty cup back on the tray and look closely at Pumpkin. She is small, petite, almost fragile. If her owner lays a hand on her and doesn't hold back, he'll just kill her. I think carefully about what to say next.

"Well. Then we should talk to your owner. Because he won't come up with this idea on his own. And if his patience breaks at some point, he'll lay a hand on you, but then he'll probably kill you."

She looks at me and I know that she knows this just as well as I do. She puts her cup down on the tray and straightens up.

"I know... but then he would have touched me at least once. He would have got off his high horse, jumped over his arrogant shadow and touched me, a dirty, unworthy creature."

She is beside herself. On the one hand, I'm glad that she's finally managing to come out of her shell, but on the other, she has to be damn careful where she lets this side of herself out. I have to admit that I am a little shocked by her statement, as it shows how long she has been living under these conditions.

"Well... I think we'll try to solve the problem in a different way before he mistreats you like that. I think I can convince him that a little spanking and maybe some other attention might be in his interest as well as yours. Then we can build on that. What do you think?"

I try to deliver my explanation as calmly as possible, as I know that she probably won't really like it. And indeed, she looks at me questioningly. I can see that she thinks I'm half mad for even trying to do this. She raises her hand and wants to say something against it, but again she hesitates several times before finally deciding to voice her doubts about my plan.

"I fear that this plan will not work. My master won't get his hands dirty with a lowly creature like me. It would be beneath his dignity, as he likes to put it, to touch a lowly creature like me directly."

The disappointment in her voice is palpable. She lets herself fall backwards onto the sofa.

"It's hopeless. I'll have to live in this dilemma until I either make him lose his nerve and kill me, or I end up committing suicide."

She's talking to herself rather than to me. I roll my eyes a little. I take a deep breath and stand up. She lifts her head to see what I'm doing. I walk around the small table and sit down next to Pumpkin. I smile slightly and pat my lap.

"Now, now, about that suicide, let's forget about that really quickly. Because that's a really stupid idea. Come and lie down here and relax a little."

She looks at me very skeptically, but eventually she turns and rests her head on my lap. I can feel her sniffing my pants. She will be able to smell Mittens. I ignore it for the moment. I stroke her head gently. She tenses up briefly, but I notice very quickly that she relaxes. It doesn't take long before I feel the vibrations of her purring. She takes a deep breath and I can feel her head getting heavier and heavier.

"This is the first time, isn't it?"

I ask, almost in a whisper. An almost imperceptible nod answers me. It makes me a little sad that there are so many pets who don't know these simple pleasures. I let my hands roam a little further and stroke the little Feline up to her shoulder. I can finally hear her purring. It's a soft, almost inaudible sound that emphasizes the gentle vibrations. I can see how much she is enjoying the touch as her neck seems to get longer and longer.

"We will find a solution to your problem. A solution that will benefit you and your owner."

At the mention of her owner, she tenses up briefly, but soon lets go of her tension again and surrenders to my ministrations. My hand glides further, over her shoulder, over her ribs to her narrow waist. There really isn't much to her. But that's also due to her race. They are always quite petite. I smile as I watch her imperceptibly try to reposition herself so that my hand can reach other places. Of course it doesn't work. She's not practiced enough for it, but I ignore it and give her what she asks for. My hand accidentally slips onto her tummy and strokes her there. I look down and can see how much this touch alone is already arousing her. Slowly and carefully, I pull my hand back to her flank. She opens her eyes and realizes that she has been caught. She immediately withdraws into her cocoon. She expects a punishment that doesn't come. Instead, I just look down at her, relaxed.

"Just relax. Nothing has happened. Everything is fine."

My voice is almost toneless, and yet I try to pack as much affection and caring into the statement as possible. She looks at me out of her big amber eyes. I can see it working in hers.

"But... I overstepped my boundaries... I was... naughty..."

I smile and brush my hand across her cheek, she flinches slightly but relaxes quite quickly.

"I didn't set any boundaries that you might have crossed. But yes, you were a little naughty."

I emphasize my last sentence somewhat jokingly. She looks at me with a mixture of expectation and reserve. My smile widens a little.

"I think I'm going to have to punish you a little... don't I?"

I say with raised eyebrows. She takes the hint and nods eagerly.

"Oh yes... I've been a bad girl. I should be punished."

She exaggerates her tone a little, which is probably due to a lack of practice. I nod and grab her by her shoulder and hip. I pull her up and turn her onto her stomach. Her narrow, small bottom literally laughs at me while her tail twitches back and forth excitedly. I grab her tail and hold it out of the way. I raise my right hand and hold it in the air for a moment to savor the moment. Pumpkin trembles with excitement in anticipation of her rew... erm... punishment. I grin outright as my hand finally descends and lands on her buttock with a satisfying smack.

"Bad girl... bad girl..."

I chant as I spank her ass. I do my best to use the right amount of "force". Judging by her sighs, I'm close.

"Ahhnnn... hnnnn..."

She moans and I can feel my lap getting very warm and finally moist. I decide to call it a day with the punishment. And place my hand flat on her bottom. It radiates an unnatural heat. Pumpkin squirms under my hand. I know exactly what she wants, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.

"Hnnnn... don't stop... please..."

Her voice reminds me of a child who wants to ride the carousel one more time. I stroke her bottom a little before taking my hand away again.

"Hmm... I thought it was supposed to be a punishment. You took it well. Now you shall receive your reward. Turn around."

My tone is playful, except for the last sentence. It's an order. I can hear her inhale excitedly before she turns around. She bites her lower lip and holds her hands in front of her shame. I look down at her. It's a beautiful sight. She is breathing heavily and quickly, her narrow chest rises and falls at regular intervals. My gaze slowly wanders further down.

"Ooooh I see you are a very naughty girl."

I say what I already knew before she turned around. Her arms and legs tremble. Her stomach muscles twitch erratically. I look up at her face and raise my eyebrows.

"Let me see it..."

I demand softly and she chews her lip more intensely before hesitantly raising her hands. My smile widens.

"Good girl."

I whisper and place my hand on her stomach. She flinches. I can feel the play of her muscles under my hand. My hand slowly moves down. Her body gets warmer and warmer under my hand and she makes every effort not to moan out loud immediately. I can feel her pelvis under my hand and her fur is damp. When my hand reaches her pubic area, she inhales sharply.

"Haaaaaannnn..."

Her mouth is half open and she looks at me pleadingly.

"Did you earn this?"

I ask, caressing her outer lips gently. She shudders and looks at me with wide eyes. Slowly, she shakes her head. I smile and nod gently.

"Yes, but you did..."

I whisper and slowly let my middle finger sink between her lips. I'm rewarded with a loud moan and her hands wrap around my forearm. Her muscles tense up. I carefully let my finger explore her folds. She is so wet that she is practically overflowing. Her breathing is short and rapid. My second hand finds her cheek and caresses it gently. She leans her head against my hand and closes her eyes.

"Hann... hnnnn... nyaaaa..."

I can feel her tensing up completely already. Is she really so inexperienced that this is enough? I let my finger slide a little deeper and find her entrance. She stretches her head upwards and bites down hard on her lip. I feel her claws in my arm. I smile and carefully penetrate her. That's enough and she rears up under my hand.

"Aaaaaaannnggg..."

Her cry seems so strange, it sounds so helpless and yet at the same time so detached from all worries. She pushes her back through and the tension in her muscles forces my finger out of her vagina. I hold her carefully so that she can't fall off the couch. It only takes a brief moment before she collapses on my lap. She is breathing heavily. I let my hand slide back onto her stomach. When I look towards the door, Mittens is standing there. She smiles and enters the room slowly and almost silently. Her sensual movements have a hypnotic effect. She stops in front of the sofa and looks down at Pumpkin, who is breathing heavily. She kneels down carefully and places her hands on the Feline's cheeks. Pumpkin opens her eyes and looks into Mittens' soft blue-green eyes.

"Who...?"

She asks softly, but Mittens puts her finger to her lips.

"Don't ask..."

Mittens says, pressing her lips to Pumpkin's. Pumpkin struggles for a moment before her own hands find Mittens' head and hold her down. I watch the spectacle for a brief moment before intervening.

"Hey, you two. I'm still here too..."

Mittens interrupts her kiss with Pumpkin and looks up at me with a grin.

"You kept me waiting..."

She says in her inimitable tone. I look at her sternly and her grin disappears from her face. She straightens up and bows deeply.

"Please excuse my permissiveness."

It's amazing how quickly she can switch gears. Meanwhile, Pumpkin is still on top of me. I look at Pumpkin and smile.

"This is Mittens. She's helping me here."

Pumpkin nods silently. I look at her body and then look at Mittens.

"I think we're done here for now. Be a dear and show Pumpkin to the showers..."

Mittens bows deeply once more and then offers Pumpkin a hand. Hesitantly, Pumpkin takes her hand and lets herself be pulled to her feet.

"You can go with her. It's okay."

I say and look at Mittens. We understand each other without words. She has an hour...

As both Felines leave the room, I take a deep breath and put the cups and utensils back on the tray. I carry it back to the tea kitchen. As I put the cups in the dishwasher, I dial the owner's number.

"Yes hello... Yes exactly... Yes the therapy session is finished... Yes I think we've gained some important insights... No she's not quite finished yet, but I'd still like you to come by now... I need to discuss a few little things with you... No, don't worry... But it would be important for Pumpkin's well-being... Of course, I'll wait for you..."

I make my way to the front and wait for the owner to arrive. It doesn't take long before I can already see the owner's vehicle. He enters my store in his usual authoritarian manner. He approaches my counter with heavy steps.

"Right, here I am. What else is there to clarify?"

He asks, and his tone is again the same military command tone that allows no contradiction. I smile curtly and nod.

"Oh, just a few little things. Would you accompany me to the consulting room?"

I invite him in and open the partition to my work area. He follows me disgruntled. I open the large door and lead him into the room. I point to a chair and take a seat in the other. He drops into the chair and I pick up my notes.

"So, what is it now... Shoot."

He barks impatiently. I skim over my notes briefly and then turn to him.

"I had a long, clarifying conversation with Pumpkin. I was able to identify most of the problems and work out a solution that should solve most of them. Provided..."

I pause for a moment and look at him.

"... Yes?"

He finally asks, looking at me seriously.

"... Provided you pull in the same direction."

I say calmly and pick up my pen. He looks at me questioningly. His head changes color slightly.

"What did the little rat tell you... What lies did she make up?"

He wants to know. I shake my head slowly.

"First of all, the content of the conversation between Pumpkin and me is subject to confidentiality as long as no crimes were mentioned, and that wasn't the case..."

He wants to interject, but I raise a finger and stop the objection.

"Secondly, I'm assuming that everything Pumpkin told me is true."

Again he wants to interject and again I stop him.

"Thirdly, the problem can only be solved if you both pull in the same direction and you'll probably even like that direction."

When my speech is interrupted for a moment longer, he realizes that he can interject.

"All right... we don't want to discuss this for hours. What is your so-called solution?"

His voice sounds harsh and his commanding tone is stronger than before. He's not happy, but I didn't expect him to be. I smile.

"Well Pumpkin has a fetish..."

His eyes widen a little, but he's learned and waits for me to continue.

"...She wants to be punished..."

His mouth opens a little...

"... but not in the way you used to punish her..."

He raises his hand but I indicate that I'm not done yet.

"... Pumpkin needs corporal punishment. She needs interaction with you!"

I say as calmly as I can. He looks at me and I see the conflict in him.

"What do you mean?"

He finally asks. I gesture the spanking of her bottom. His eyes widen.

"I can't touch her... she's... she's an animal..."

I roll my eyes, he doesn't miss it.

"Listen. These pets have been much more than animals for a long time. Of course they're not people. But they're no longer just animals either. They have feelings, a consciousness, fears, needs, desires and they feel love and they feel pain."

I explain. I try to keep my tone matter-of-fact. He looks at me strangely.

"Are you serious?"

He asks incredulously. I take a deep breath.

"Well... As you just said, we can have a long discussion about me and my views, or you can listen to my suggestion, try it out and if we're successful, thank me afterwards... or in the very unlikely event of failure, fall back into your old patterns."

I find it hard to keep my tone professional and impartial. His eyes seem to be searching for something in me. He seems to be thinking and finally comes to a conclusion.

"Good, then tell me... what do you want me to do?"

He doesn't really sound convinced yet, but he at least seems to want to listen. I straighten up a little more and bring my fingertips together.

"Well, I would suggest that the very first thing you do is have a serious conversation with Pumpkin about exactly what you both want. I expect you'll find that you both are surprisingly close in many areas. Secondly, I would suggest that you give her a task that she can actually do. She will probably deliberately fail to complete it just so that you can punish her at the end. You should then punish her. Of course you shouldn't hurt her, but she wants to be punished. And afterwards there can be a reward..."

His eyes widen and he takes a deep breath.

"Are you implying that..."

He doesn't get any further as his brain practically switches off. I smile and nod.

"... Maybe not exactly that, but she's certainly indicated that she's not averse to it, as long as it stays within certain limits..."

He shakes his head vigorously. I roll my eyes.

"If even half of what she told me is true, that part should be the least of your problems."

He wants to get up but I tell him to stay seated.

"You don't have to follow my advice, of course. There is no obligation to do so. But in the interests of a better relationship between the two of you, it would be advisable for you to at least sit down and have a serious talk with her. Only then can you really find out what she wants and what you want. Otherwise, nothing will ever change and you will both remain unhappy."

He wants to say something back, but in the end he lets it go. I rise slowly.

"I think we've said everything. Pumpkin should be ready any minute."

He gets up too and follows me to the front. When we get to the front, Pumpkin is already standing in the waiting area and bows deeply. I nod appreciatively. Mittens has rubbed off a little on Pumpkin.

"Master, it is good to see you."

She says softly. Her owner steps past me and stops in front of her. He looks down at her. It takes a moment, then he nods.

"Good, come with me, we have a few things to discuss. The Caretaker gave us some homework."

His tone is still military, but not quite as sharp. It's only a trace, but perceptible. I wave after them as they leave the store. I turn around and Mittens is standing on the stair landing. She taps her wrist in the typical "do you know what time it is" gesture. I smile and shoo her up the stairs.

"See that you get to bed..."

I shout jokingly before following her. Her excited giggles spur me on and I can feel my loins tingling...

Name: Product No. 9442123

Breed: Canis Erectus III

Task: Reconstructive surgery

I look in the mirror. My face is covered in blood. Even the area around my mouth has not been spared. Only the area around my eyes is still clean. I look tired, exhausted and drained. I lean on the sink and take a deep breath. The last eight hours had been tough. Mittens and I have done everything in our power... now it's time for our patient to see for himself whether he wants to continue or not.

I take a deep breath and look down. The apron I'm wearing for protection is dripping with blood and my arms are almost completely stained dark red. My hands, which were in two pairs of gloves, are also stained dark red. I press the foot switch for the washbasin and the water starts to flow. Tired, I hold my hands under the stream of cold water and watch as the cool wetness washes the lifeblood of our patient from my hands.

It is a strangely soothing sight as the water flows out of the aerator, almost white at first, then mixes with the red on my hands and turns into thin red-colored threads in the basin towards the drain.

I just stand there and watch as my hands slowly return to their original color. I no longer mind the cold water. I'm already used to it. Too often I stand at this basin and wash my hands after an operation. I look at my hands and take another deep breath. I press the foot switch again and the water stops. My hands aren't completely clean yet, but I know that there's little point in cleaning them completely while I'm still wearing the completely dirty clothes.

I go to the laundry container and take off my apron. I fold it carefully and put it in the container. Next comes the surgical gown. The once green garment doesn't really get clean anymore. I strip it off and fold it neatly before putting it in the bin. I follow automatisms. I always do this when my brain is so busy with something that my body switches to autopilot. Mittens knows by now that she doesn't need to speak to me in such a state, as I probably won't react anyway. I take off the overall I was wearing under the surgical gown and put it in the container after folding it up. I close the container marked with the Biohazard sign and press the cleaning button. The machanism starts and the container disappears into the wall. It is replaced by a new container containing a new package of surgical clothing. I nod slightly and turn around.

I slowly leave the room and switch off the light. When I enter the washroom in the operating theater, I find Mittens drying herself off. Until just now, she was covered in blood from head to toe. As Mittens doesn't usually wear any clothes, she makes it easy for herself and simply takes a shower after such procedures. She gives me a knowing look and just nods. I close the door behind me and lean against the wall. It takes me almost three minutes to get out of the rubber shoes I usually wear in the operating theater. Finally, I leave my socks and underpants on and get into the shower just like that. I turn on the water and lean against the wall. I just let the water run over my head and back.

I just stand there for a while before I turn around and lean my back against the wall. My legs start to shake and I slowly slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

I can't see Mittens, who is standing at the transition from the shower to the anteroom. She has that worried look in her eyes again. She knows better than to speak to me now. She withdraws silently and decides to check on our patient.

Our patient with the poetic name: Product No. 9442123 is a mixed breed male. But you can't call him a male anymore. We were not able to save everything. He is in an artificial coma after his almost 8-hour operation. He will remain there for the next two to three days. These days will show whether his body will survive the serious operation or whether he will give up after all.

Mittens enters the room silently and goes to our patient's bed. She stands on the small stool that I got her especially for this purpose. She looks over our patient's battered body. There is not much to see of the once beautiful body. It is almost completely hidden under bandages. Only the snout is not completely tangled. But even here the wounds are clearly visible. The extracted teeth and the shaved areas hide the fact that the patient is actually still quite young. Converted into human years, he is not yet 25, but the scars and the bald patches make him look much older.

Mittens checks the position of the bronchial tube and checks the vital signs. The monitor emits its monotonous beeping stoically and records the patient's slow but regular heartbeat and shallow but adequate breathing. She checks the individual drainage bags and notes the levels. She decides that another blood bag will be necessary and gives the system the appropriate instructions. It will take an hour for the reserve to arrive, and he will hold out until then. She nods and gently strokes the patient's head before leaving the room to check on her other patient, who is probably still in the shower.

In fact, I am still in the shower. Meanwhile, I look at my hands. I hear the soft scratching of Mitten's claws on the shower screen. I look up at her. My expression is pained.

"Wouldn't it have been better if I had let him die?"

I ask in an almost toneless voice. Mittens reaches for the tap and turns off the water. She waits a moment before entering the shower and leaning against the opposite wall. She shrugs her shoulders.

"There's no need to ask. You know as well as I do that you would never have let him die while you could still save him."

She says. There's a lot of compassion in her voice, but I don't know if it's for him... or for me. I look at my hands again. By now all the blood has been washed from them, just like the rest of my body, but when I look at them I can still see the red stains... the blood that sticks to my hands... the blood that can't be removed even after so much washing.

"I saved his life, but for what? His owners, who haven't even given him a name yet, what do you think they'll do to him next?"

Mittens shrugs her shoulders. I know she's just acting cold. She feels the same way about the case, she just shows it differently. For her, these cases fuel her hatred of humans rather than increasing her compassion for her own kind. Fortunately, cases like this are rare, but they do happen and my hands are tied. I can't even call the police as long as his owners are paying for his treatment.

"They'll just fix him up like this again as soon as I release him... or worse... They know now that he can survive this..."

I hang my head. Mitten's tail twitches nervously back and forth. She hates it when I feel sorry for myself. She pushes herself away from the wall and strokes my head.

"Now come on. Moping around won't make it any better. Get up, I'm going to get you some clothes, you still have to write the report."

She says gently before leaving the shower. I look after her and lean my head against the wall once more before slowly getting up. I take a deep breath and leave the shower too. In the anteroom, I finally take off my completely soaked socks and underpants and throw them in the laundry basket. I take one of the towels and start to dry myself off. I've just finished when Mittens comes in with a set of house clothes. She examines my naked body with a grin. She licks her lips and announces:

"Miii...aauu!"

before my towel flies into her face. She takes the towel, smells it with relish and then throws it into the laundry basket. She hands me the clothes and leaves the washroom again. I just shake my head and can't help but grin.

I get dressed and leave the washroom. I am tired. Even though I've had longer days, an 8-hour operation that decides whether a patient lives or dies is much more strenuous than 12 to 14 hours of grooming a moody client. I go into the monitoring room to check on my patient.

I open the door quietly and enter the room. I can hear the soft beeping of the vital signs monitor and see the soft glow of the screen. I walk carefully to the bed. I leave the light switched off. I know the patient is in a coma and the likelihood of him realizing what's happening is slim, but I don't want to disturb him any more than absolutely necessary. It's a gruesome sight. If I didn't know any better, I might think he'd had a fight with a speeding truck and lost out. To be honest, this scenario would probably be preferable to the reality. I look over my patient's body and check whether the bandages are bleeding through in any places. But apart from a few tiny spots where the blood is squeezing through the gauze in a pale pink color, everything looks fine. I check his temperature. He is not hypothermic. I check the setting of the heating integrated into the bed. Everything is in perfect order. I check the drainage bags again. Everything is fine here too. I notice the order on the monitor and nod. Another blood bag won't do any harm. I bend down to my patient and gently stroke his head.

"It's such a shame..."

I whisper and straighten up again. I take a deep breath and leave the room. I quietly pull the door shut behind me and walk down the corridor. I make my way to my consulting room. Just as I'm about to open the door, Mittens comes walking down the corridor from the other side. She's carrying a small tray in front of her. I have to smile. I can already smell the tea from here. I open the door and switch on the light. I let Mittens into the room first and then follow her. I close the door behind me and come to my desk. I slump heavily into my office chair and look over at Mittens. She looks just as exhausted as I do, but she hides it a little better. If you didn't know her, you'd think she was just a Feline. A quiet, sometimes grumpy Feline... typical... but I know that she usually lives on the edge of hyperactivity. When she is active, she is active. The way she is now shows that she is running on reserve energy and actually belongs in bed. She takes one of the cups and hands it to me. I accept it gratefully and smell the aromatic drink. I enjoy the aroma and sip from the cup. The cozy warmth that spreads through me makes it harder not to fall asleep for a moment, but the caffeine starts to take effect relatively quickly. I look at Mittens, who is sipping from her cup.

"Go to sleep Mittens. I'll need you later."

My voice sounds rough and my tone seems harsher than I actually want it to be. Mittens smiles at me over the rim of her cup.

"I think I'll stay awake now and make sure you get your sleep later. I'm not the one who has to look after customers here."

She replies. Her tone is just as harsh, but she's right. I nod tiredly. I slowly straighten up and place the cup next to the keyboard of my computer. I switch on the machine and wait patiently for the welcome screen to appear. I should change to a newer model when I get the chance, but so far this one has always done its job. I start the software I need for the report and create a new case. Once I've entered the basic data, I take the microphone and lean back in my chair.

"Documentation case 324, February 23. 2533, 20:31h.

After the patient was announced as an emergency by telephone, the operating theater was prepared according to the message.

The patient, with the name... no with the designation: product no. 9442123, breed: Canis Erectus III, presumably mixed breed, Dalmatian-Dobermann, coat is black with the markings typical of the breed, was brought in at around 10:12 and was already unresponsive at this time.

Due to the urgency of the situation, no medical history could be taken and emergency surgery was started immediately.

Initial findings on admission revealed severe bruising to the face and upper body with a suspected fracture of the cheekbone and clavicle on the right and several ribs. Furthermore, a cut was found on the left upper arm. In the further course, blunt trauma to the abdomen with suspected internal injuries was found, as well as a dislocated left hip. The genitals were found to be severely injured in various ways and the anus was found to have a torn spincter, a perineal tear and suspected impalement injuries. A fractured left lower leg and several dislocated toes were noted on visual examination.

The patient was in an unconscious state. After intubation, anesthesia was started immediately.

During intubation, it was discovered that all but the last two molars on each side had been removed unprofessionally at an earlier stage.

The recommendation to the effect that after full recovery, an orthodontic consultation should be sought to provide a suitable prosthesis.

Furthermore, during the induction of anesthesia, other minor injuries around the patient's mouth were noticed. It is reasonable to assume that the patient's jaw was pried open with unprofessional tools. This would be consistent with older injuries that were noticed during wound care.

Once anesthesia had been induced, the actual examination could begin.

The fracture of the zygomatic bone was properly treated using plate osteosynthesis with three screws. Suturing was performed intracutaneously with self-dissolving sutures. Four cuts on the face were cleaned and treated with suture plasters. If this method fails unexpectedly, sutures can be applied.

The spectacle hematoma was drained as well as possible and should heal completely over the next few days.

The fracture of the clavicle was treated as usual in these cases using plate osteosynthesis and a further screw to fix the acromio-clavicular joint. A vacuum drain was placed which can be removed in two to three days, depending on the result. Sutures were applied intractaneously with self-dissolving sutures.

The incision on the left upper arm severed the long biceps tendon. Reconstruction was ensured using tissue adhesive and Circlage. The durability will become apparent over the next few weeks. The arm will be treated with a Glicrist bandage and immobilization for at least 4 weeks will be prescribed. The wound itself was cleaned and treated with staples. Provided the primary wound healing is complete, the staples can be removed after 12 to 14 days.

After the x-ray check, a total of 5 broken ribs were found. Two had to be repositioned. Treatment after shaving was ensured with a tape bandage. The next few days will show whether the lungs have been damaged.

The injuries in the abdominal area turned out to be much more serious than originally thought. The X-ray check revealed a possible rupture of the spleen, a contusion of the left kidney, an unclear accumulation of fluid in the intestinal area and a suspected injury to the pancreas. As there was not enough time for a minimally invasive surgical technique, the decision was made to perform a large abdominal incision. The accumulation of fluid, which was immediately obvious, turned out to be a mixture of blood, semen, excrement, urine and lymph fluid. The sources of the individual fluids could not be localized more precisely at first. Once the fluid had been extracted, it was possible to investigate the causes.

The spleen had to be completely removed, as did the gall bladder. Fortunately, the pancreas could be preserved. Due to the multiple blunt traumas, about 1.2 meters of small intestine had to be removed and the pars decendens of the large intestine also had to be significantly shortened. The left kidney was severely affected, but will be preserved for the time being. The operation was carried out with the utmost care. After inserting two drains, the abdominal cavity was sutured layer by layer from the inside out with self-dissolving sutures according to the rules of the art. The skin was sutured with staples.

The dislocated hip was relocated under X-ray control. It remains to be observed whether further damage has occurred.

The fracture of the left tibia was properly set using plate osteosynthesis. The correct fit was confirmed by X-ray control. Suturing was performed intracutaneously with self-dissolving suture material.

The toes were corrected and immobilized with tape bandages.

The serious injuries to the patient's genitals could only be inadequately repaired as the condition of the tissue was already too poor when the patient was admitted. Most of the genital tissue had to be removed. The patient's fertility can no longer be regarded as given. A semen sample was taken and stored in case breeding was still desired.

Reconstruction of the anus and perineum was completed to a satisfactory extent. Due to the injuries to the intestines, it is advisable to keep to a light diet for the next 2 to 4 weeks to ensure optimal healing.

In conclusion, it should be noted that the way the injuries appeared during the operations suggests that they were caused deliberately and with the aid of various tools.

Unfortunately, there was not enough time to determine the exact cause of all the injuries. However, it can be assumed that the broken bones and the injuries to the abdomen were caused by being kicked. The cuts to the face and arm suggest that a knife was used. The edges of the wounds were smooth. Tear or scratch wounds can be ruled out. The positioning of the wounds does not suggest defensive wounds. The various bruises and haematomas could also indicate binding, but this requires more detailed investigation and could not yet be conclusively determined. The injuries in the area of the rectum suggest impalement injuries. As a rule, these only occur with forcible penetration. Rape, possibly also with objects, cannot be ruled out at the present time.

The injuries to the patient's genitals look like ritual mutilation, but were not carried out with a sharp instrument.

The patient's tox screen shows no drugs, but incredibly high levels of cortisol, adrenaline and noradrenaline.

This suggests that the patient was probably fully conscious during most of the ordeal.

Following the surgery, the patient was placed in an induced coma for his safety and ours. Assuming his vital signs stabilize, we will attempt to wake him in two to three days.

End of report."

I put the microphone aside and look over at Mittens. I can see how she is boiling inside. I pick up my cup and take a sip. Mittens is literally vibrating. I turn to face her.

"Yes Mittens? You want to say something?"

At that moment, it literally explodes out of her.

"Why do people have to be like this? What did Fiffi do to them to deserve this? They've disfigured him so badly that even his mother probably wouldn't recognize him. And what have they done to him? How many of them must have done this to him one after the other?"

Her otherwise peaceful voice is loud and raspy as she throws these questions at me. I can hear her claws scratching the ceramic of her cup. She is completely beside herself. She's trying to keep herself in check because she knows my hands are tied and there's nothing I can do about it. It's a mixture of hatred, anger and despair that is building up inside her. We've had this conversation several times. Our current patient is not the first and probably won't be the last to come to me in this or a similar state. I'm similarly upset, but the years I've spent in this job and the fact that he's not one of my species fighting for his life in the next room have dulled me. I take a deep breath and put my cup down, tapping it on my lap.

It takes a moment, but I can see her posture change. First her cup lowers bit by bit. Then she droops her ears. Her lips start to tremble and her shoulders slump. Finally, her eyes show that her anger is basically just a façade. She puts her cup down and rubs her arms. She lets out a soft whimper. I smile slightly but sympathetically and spread my arms.

"Now come on over here."

I say calmly and she slides down from her chair and comes trotting over to me. She climbs onto my lap and leans against me. I hug her small, petite figure and hold her tight. She begins to sob and her body is shaken by slight convulsions. I hold her tight and stroke her head.

"I know. People are bad. Always have been, and since there's no one else around who's more powerful, that's not going to change anytime soon."

My voice is soft, low and filled with warmth and affection. Mittens claws at my sweater and burrows deeper into my chest. I can feel the heat emanating from her and can feel my chest growing moist.

"Let it out... it's okay."

Mittens shivers. It's this mixture of shame and anger. I know she hates that she's so powerless. And I know she's ashamed that she can't control herself better. I continue to hold her and stroke her. It will take her a little while to calm down again. I lean my head on hers and try to pass on my calmness to her. I scratch her behind her ears. She tries to resist, but in the end she presses her head against my hand and tries to intensify the stroking. She takes a deep breath and I can feel her slowly calming down. She still sobs now and again, but she calms down.

I look down at her and smile.

"How did you come up with Fiffi?"

I ask freely, knowing full well that I can lure her out of her shell. She lifts her head and looks at me for a moment, completely perplexed. But then she collects her thoughts and her expression becomes serious.

"I can't call him product no. blah blah blah. That's not fair. He deserves a name. He's a dog, so he's called Fiffi now."

She sniffs again and looks at me seriously. I smile.

"And if he was a cat, would you call him Kitty?"

This comment, this affront, doesn't go unnoticed by her. She slides back a little on my lap and crosses her arms in front of her chest. She tries to scowl, but fails.

"Now stop it. No one would call their cat Kitty."

The indignation in her voice is palpable. I take her head carefully in my hands and pull it towards me. I give her a little kiss on the forehead and continue smiling.

"Well, I don't think anyone would really call their dog Fiffi either."

She grits her teeth and nods grimly.

"Yes, they would. But still better than product no. blah blah blah..."

I stroke her cheeks and nod.

"Yeah, better than not naming him at all. But don't let the owners hear it."

The look I get when I mention his owners is absolutely deadly. But her facial features quickly relax again and her eyes again show the sadness and despair at her helplessness in this situation. I stroke her cheeks again and press another small kiss to her forehead.

"We should check on him again and the blood pack should be here any minute."

Mittens nods and slowly slides off my lap. She stands in front of me and bows deeply.

"Please excuse my outburst. I forgot where my place was and I shouldn't have..."

I place my finger gently on her lips. My smile is loving but very tired at the same time.

"It's alright. You haven't made a mistake. Go ahead and check on him, I'll go up front and wait for the courier."

She nods and bows again before leaving the room almost silently. I look after her, then glance at the small clock at the bottom of the computer monitor. It's getting late. I should attach the blood pack, check the monitor again and then try to get some sleep before things resume as normal tomorrow. I switch off the computer and slowly get up. After stretching, I also leave the room. But instead of following Mittens to the monitoring room where our patient is waiting for us, I go to the front desk and wait for the blood pack.

I arrive at reception just as the blood bank courier is already coming in the door.

"Hello Caretaker. You have a need today. Dispatch says this is the fourth conserve for today. What are you doing here?"

He actually sounds more curious than judgmental. I sign the receipt and take the cooler.

"Well, I've got a patient here who's been hit a bit harder."

I say back and am about to go to the back when the driver says:

"Wouldn't it be easier to buy a new pet? I mean, the four blood packs alone are more expensive than some pets."

I shrug my shoulders. I don't want to say to his face that this is the only punishment I can inflict on his owners and that I can only hope that they refuse to pay so that I can press charges. Instead, I reply:

"Well, some people just love their pets too much to just let them go."

He shrugs his shoulders, but is probably satisfied with the answer and leaves the store with a quick wave. I just nod with a smile and wait for the door to lock again before I activate the locking mechanism. I turn around and walk to my work area, shaking my head.

I walk briskly but not frantically down the corridor and turn into the operating theater. I slow down in front of the door to the monitoring room and enter the room almost silently. Mittens is standing on her little stool, leaning over the bed. I can't quite understand what she is saying, but she is encouraging our patient, Fiffi. She hears me come in and looks over her shoulder.

"The blood is there."

I say quietly and place the cool box on one of the tables. I cut the seal and open the box. Satisfied, I take out the plastic bag with the shimmering red liquid. I check the label and nod. I turn to Mittens and Fiffi. For a moment, I think about whether I want to create another access for the pack or attach it to one of the existing ones. I check the individual accesses and find one that currently only has a saline solution attached. I stop the supply and hang the blood pack next to the Ringer's solution. I take a new tube, connect it to the blood pack and de-aerate it. Then I connect it to one of the T-pieces and turn on the tap. I can see the pack starting to drip.

"Well, that should run for the next hour."

My voice is accompanied by the monotonous beeping of the monitor, which is still displaying the same values. Our patient is fast asleep, the coma is strong, keeping his body and mind locked in sleep so he can heal. I tap the screen and call up the EEG. I study the graphs for a moment. Every time Mittens speaks to him and strokes him, the graphs spike slightly. I nod and am satisfied. He is aware of it, the probability of severe brain damage is not completely ruled out, but at least the probability is much lower.

I turn to Mittens and gently stroke her back. I can feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a slight shiver runs through her.

"Let him sleep... we should try to get some sleep too. Tomorrow will be no less challenging."

One could hear my tiredness and Mittens nods without hesitation. She whispers something else in Fiffi's ear and then stands up. She slowly turns to me and stretches out her arms. I smile tiredly but do the same. She embraces me and hugs me tightly. I put my arms around her petite body and return the hug.

"Carry me..."

She murmurs into my chest. I look down at her, amused.

"You've got feet up to the floor. I'm tired too. I'm definitely not carrying you."

I say jokingly. She shakes her head and buries herself deeper into my chest.

"No I don't... besides, I'm small and weak... carry me."

She mumbles again, her nagging tone so badly acted that I almost laugh. I stroke her head gently.

"That tired? Can't you walk anymore?"

I ask in a worried tone. She nods and continues to hold on to me. I smile and press a small kiss to the top of her head.

"All right, then. But just this once, because you've been such a big help."

She looks up at me with big, shining eyes. She really wasn't expecting me to be wide-eyed. I can see the cogs turning in her head, but before she can say anything, I've already picked her up and am walking towards the door. It's not that she's insanely heavy. She's small and light, she's easy to carry. Mittens is almost shocked that I'm carrying her like this, but she quickly relaxes and snuggles up to me. We leave the room and I carry her down the corridor. I can feel her head getting heavier and heavier on my chest. She is really tired. She would never admit it, but it has probably taken her a lot of strength to hold out with me for so long. I head for my private quarters and carry the little Feline up the stairs. When I get to the top, she can hardly keep her eyes open. They close again and again and I can feel her body's tension ebbing away. Smiling, I enter the bedroom and place her carefully on the bed. She mumbles something and immediately curls up into a little ball of fur.

I look down at Mittens as she lies curled up on the bed, breathing quietly. Probably already in the realm of dreams. I take a deep breath and take off my clothes. I carefully try to push Mittens a little more into the middle of the bed, because the way she is lying at the moment, I have no room in my own bed. It's amazing how heavy a little feline can make herself when she doesn't want to be moved. I straighten up again and smile.

"If I don't get space in my bed, I know someone who won't get any cuddles."

I say quietly, knowing that Mittens can hear me very well. And surprisingly, suddenly the little ball of fur can move on its own. Satisfied, I lie down in bed and snuggle up to Mittens. Her contented purring helps me to relax and soon my eyes fall shut too.

But our break doesn't last long. After just three hours, my wristband vibrates and reminds me to check on my patient. I slowly open my eyes and look down at Mittens, who has curled up in front of me and is pressing her back against my stomach. I stroke her head and shoulder and am rewarded with a soft purr. I smile slightly and try to carefully detach myself from her without waking her up. Of course I fail. As I sit on the edge of the bed, she turns to me and her hand runs gently over my back.

"Where are you going?"

She asks sleepily. I look over my shoulder with a smile.

"I'm going to check on Fiffi. You just lie there. I'll be right back. She smiles tiredly and curls up under the blanket again. Her eyes slowly fall shut again and soon she's asleep again. I nod and put my clothes back on. I get up with difficulty and walk out of the room. I quietly close the door and walk down the corridor to the stairs. I take a deep breath and stretch as I walk down the stairs to my work area. I know the paths blindfolded by now and can walk them safely even when I'm half asleep.

As I stand in front of the door to the surveillance room, I hesitate. I think about the fate of the pet lying in there. I press my lips together and open the door. I slowly walk over to the bed and check on Fiffi. As expected, he is lying there just as peacefully as we left him three hours ago. I remove the empty blood bag and start the Ringer's solution again. I check the monitor, but all the parameters are still in the green. I increase the dose of cortisone a little and increase the dose of one or two painkillers. I am pleased to see that his heart rate is dropping slightly and his blood pressure is stabilizing a little more. I check the blood sugar levels and the temperature. Everything is fine. I nod silently and lean over the bed. I place my hand gently on his head and stroke him.

"You still have a while to think it over. But when you come back... well, they'll probably do that to you again... it'll probably be worse next time."

I see the old injuries and the unprofessionally pulled teeth.

"That wasn't your first rodeo either, was it? Only this time was the first time they went this far. I don't know how you can stand it... Always loyal, always faithful..."

I can hear the monitor beeping as its readings change. He doesn't have much influence, the anesthesia is too strong.

"Think about it. I'll support your decision, no matter where it goes."

I straighten up and turn to leave. I take one last look at the monitor and see that his values are still stable. I nod and leave the room quietly. I follow the path back to my quarters that I took just a few moments ago.

When I enter my bedroom, Mittens is still lying there just as I left her. I undress and get back into bed. I am greeted with a purr and Mittens snuggles up to me again. I put my arm around her contentedly and pull her close to me. It doesn't take long and my eyes fall shut again.

The next time my bracelet wakes me up is at the usual time. I get up, much to Mittens' annoyance, and go to my bathroom. The morning routine goes perfectly according to plan. I check on my patient again. Not much has changed. I replace the empty Ringer's solution and attach a new nutrient solution to the second line. Checking the vital signs shows no significant changes. I say goodbye to Fiffi and promise him that Mittens will be down soon to keep him company.

My phone rings as I walk forward. The number that is displayed makes me hesitate. I go to my consulting room and take the call.

"This is the Caretaker... Yes, I remember... Yes, he's alive... still... Well, what does that mean, it means he's not out of the woods yet... no, I'm not joking... his condition is still critical... we were forced to put him into an induced coma... yes I know what that costs... I'm writing the bill after all... I hope we can wake him up tomorrow... the day after tomorrow at the latest... no, if he doesn't wake up on his own then, there's not much I can do... so far his heart is strong and there are no signs of pneumonia... but even if he wakes up tomorrow, it will be months before he is fully recovered... no of course he doesn't have to stay in the clinic all the time, but he should come in for regular check-ups... no we can't speed this up... yes I will keep you informed... don't worry... yes you too... goodbye..."

I almost take the headset and throw it against the wall. I've managed to keep my voice calm and courteous throughout the conversation. I lean back in my chair and massage my temples with my fingers. I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth. I take a moment to collect myself. I finally get up and go to the front of the reception.

The day passes like most other days, without any further difficulties. Mittens soon comes down and goes to see Fiffi. She keeps watch at his bedside. She reads to him and monitors his vital signs while I take care of the day's business. When I join her later, she is reading him the story of the two rabbits.

"...I love you sooooo much..."

She is reading aloud as I open the door. I smile and quietly enter the room. I just take a quick look and leave again. Mittens is engrossed in the story and continues to read to him. I leave the room and go to my consulting room.

I switch on the computer and wait for it to boot up. I start the program for my reports and take the microphone.

"Documentation case 324, February 24. 2533, 22:15h.

The patient's vital signs are still stable. The healing progress is promising. No signs of pneumonia or stroke yet.

Will start a wake-up attempt tomorrow. The drains can probably also be removed tomorrow. The drainage in the abdomen will remain in place for another day.

Owners want to pick up the patient as soon as possible.

If the patient regains consciousness tomorrow and the abdominal drain can be removed the day after tomorrow, nothing stands in the way.

End of report."

I put the microphone down on the desk and save the report. I sit for a moment and wait for an inspiration. But I get no help. I get up slowly and walk to the door. When I open the door, Mittens is standing in front of it.

"Well, enough stories for now?"

I ask quietly and she nods. She has her tablet tucked under her arm and looks at me questioningly.

"We'll try to wake him up tomorrow."

I say quietly and stroke her head.

"What do you think, will he come back?"

I try to sound a little more optimistic than I actually feel. She continues to look at me expectantly, but her eyes speak a different language.

"I hope for his sake that he doesn't come back. I hope for his sake that he just goes to sleep..."

Her voice is almost toneless. I nod and give her a little kiss on the forehead. Somehow I can only agree with her. It would be best for him if he just stayed in a coma and then slipped away. But his heart is too strong for that. As long as I supply his body with energy, he will survive.

"Come on, let's call it a day. We'll see what Fiffi does in the morning."

I say and look down the corridor towards my private chambers. Mittens nods and walks ahead. I switch off the lights and follow her.

The night passes uneventfully. I wake up before my alarm, turn onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I already know that Fiffi didn't do me any favors by simply passing away in the night. My wristband would have sounded the alarm if something had been wrong with my patient's vital signs. It takes a moment for Mittens to realize that I'm awake. She turns to me and lays her head on my chest. Her soft purr makes me smile.

"You're awake already?"

It's more of a question than a statement that she purrs at me. I stroke her flank and let my hand rest on her hip.

"Yes. I just woke up. I think my conscience wants me to think again about what I'm going to do today."

I say softly and gently tickle her hip. Mittens snuggles a little closer to me. Her hand rests on my chest and runs through my chest hair.

"What are you going to do when he really wakes up?"

She asks softly. I take a moment to prepare my answer. I put my hand on her hip and massage the muscles hidden under her thick fur.

"I promised him I would honor his decision. If he wakes up and wants to live, I will do everything in my power to allow him to do so. But if he wakes up and tells me he doesn't want to go on like this... well... then I'll help him to leave this plane of excistence in dignity..."

I don't sound very convinced and Mittens knows it's tearing me up inside to give in to his wish and let him go if necessary. She pushes herself up and shoves her head into my field of vision. She looks deep into my eyes as if she is searching for something. After a short while, she puts her head back on my chest.

"You better keep your promise..."

She leaves the rest of the sentence unspoken. I nod. I have no intention of backing out, but I need an excuse as to why he died after all. I can't just make something up. The records could be checked. After all, there's a lot of money at stake that his owners would have to pay even if he died... It wouldn't be surprising if they checked the records. There would be ways of faking meningitis or a pulmonary embolism. But neither would be easy and would require him not waking up in the first place. I take a deep breath and my bracelet starts to vibrate. I look down at Mittens.

"Of course I'll keep my promise. You know me. But in order for me to keep it, I have to get up first."

For a brief moment, she holds me and makes herself heavy, but she knows there's no point in stopping me. She sits up and lets me stand. I get out of bed and turn around. Mittens is sitting in the middle of the bed with her head slightly to one side. I smile. How I wish I could just spend more time with her, but work is calling.

"I'll see you later."

I say quietly and leave the room. After the usual morning routine, I go downstairs to my office.

I go straight to the monitoring room. I enter the room quietly and approach the bed. After a quick check to make sure everything is still okay, I put my hand on Fiffi's head and stroke him gently.

"Then let's wake you up for once. Or at least give you the opportunity to do so."

I say softly. I swallow and straighten up again. I go to the monitor and check the readings. Everything is fine. I get everything I need for the procedure from the cupboards along the wall of the room.

I put on the mask, goggles and gloves. I start to reduce the anesthetic medication. Slowly but steadily, I lower the dosage and wait for his first reactions. I have everything ready when I notice how he begins to resist the tube. I take the syringe and pull the air out of the tube's anchor, then carefully remove the tube. I drop the tube into the garbage can while carefully holding his tongue so he doesn't accidentally block his own airway. I keep an eye on the monitor and his heart- and breathing rate. Both are slowly increasing, but remain stable.

"Sssshhhhh take it easy boy. Everything is fine. Take your time. Nothing can happen to you here."

I speak quietly, but I'm sure he can hear me. I try to reassure him, knowing that this awakening will not be an easy one. Neither physically nor mentally. The monitor gives me the green light and I can lower the dosage further. The EEG beats out much stronger and I increase the pain medication significantly while the anesthesia is lowered further.

"Take it very slowly. Nothing is happening. You're safe."

I continue to speak calmly to him. I can see his swallowing reflex starting to work. It is a very good sign. His breathing becomes slightly irregular, but that was to be expected. We have reached a point where he could slowly wake up if he wanted to. I can see his nose starting to work. I carefully let go of his tongue. I put my hand on his head and stroke him gently.

"You're a good boy. Calm down. When you're ready, wake up."

I say, keeping an eye on his EEG. The spikes are clear. He can hear me. But after two days under anesthesia and with this dose of pain medication, waking up is not easy. He breathes more deeply and something like a sigh can be heard. As his values remain stable, I withdraw the last of the narcotics from his system. I can see him trying to move, the strength is not there yet, but the impulse is.

"Shhhhhhh... Relax boy. Take it very slowly. You've got all the time in the world."

His eyelids tremble and something like a whimper leaves his throat. I stroke a head. I press a button on my wristband and use it to call Mittens. Fiffi calms down a little, but I can see and feel that he wants to wake up. It's not long before the door to the hallway opens quietly and Mittens enters the room. She walks quietly to the bed. She takes the stool and goes to the other side.

"Mittens is here."

I say quietly and am rewarded with a slight wince. I carefully straighten up and leave the field to the little Feline. I turn to the monitor as Mittens leans over him.

"I'm here."

She says almost tonelessly, but I can clearly see the spike on the EEG. I nod slightly and check the other values. Everything is in the green zone so far. His vital signs are stable and the EEG is also fine. I start to take care of the drains. It's easier to remove them while he's still asleep. I push the garbage can under the first one and cut the tube. The vacuum is gone and it's easier to pull the tube. I trace the hose to its origin and remove the thread holding it. I carefully pull out the drainage and press a swab onto the wound. I fix it in place with a strip of plaster and dispose of the tube.

"You can wake up if you want to. I'd love to look into your eyes, I'd love to talk to you, but I can understand if you'd rather sleep... in the hope of escaping what's waiting for you..."

Mitten's voice is almost inaudible, but it is so full of warmth and compassion that it almost hurts to listen to her as she strokes Fiffi. I proceed with the second drainage in the same way and dispose of both the bag and the tube after closing the small wound. I pull up one of the chairs and sit down.

"Now it's time to wait. Only he himself can decide whether he wants to wake up or not."

I say calmly and lean back. Mittens nods, but stays with Fiffi and continues to stroke him and talk to him.

After about an hour, Mittens waves me over. I get up and approach the bed. Fiffi has opened his eyes a little. Mittens continues to stroke him gently.

"It's OK. Nothing can happen to you here."

She speaks quietly but insistently. I hold back a little and wait for his reaction. He blinks slowly and swallows. A whimper can be heard and he tries to close his mouth. His motor skills aren't quite working the way he's used to.

"Take it slow. There's no need to rush. Take your time."

His gaze wanders around the room a little and lingers on me. His eyes convey his pain and I nod slightly. I increase the dose of his pain medication slightly. He manages to close his mouth and whimpers.

"I know. Don't worry. You're safe here for now. Wake up properly and then we'll talk."

I say calmly and look over at Mittens. She nods and continues to look after Fiffi. I take care of the monitor and switch off some of the functions that I no longer need. I remove some of the cables and wires that connect the monitor to his bed. I stow everything away in the compartments provided and move the monitor out of the way. I can control the remaining functions directly from the bed. When I approach the bed again, Fiffi's eyes are fully open and he tries to say something. Mittens has leaned all the way over the bed and has her ear very close to his mouth. I wait and see in Mittens' eyes that what he is trying to say makes her sad. Mittens slowly lifts her head and looks silently into our patient's eyes. He blinks and she nods. Slowly, she leans down and gives him a kiss on the nose. Fiffi closes his eyes and a few tears trickle down his cheeks. Mittens straightens up and looks at me. Her eyes are filled with sadness. She starts to say something, but stops immediately.

"I know Mittens... I know..."

I beat her to it and bend down to Fiffi. I take a deep breath.

"Well, my boy. I have a very good idea of what you told her, but I need to hear it again loud and clear. It's important because I'm going to get myself into a lot of trouble."

I say softly and stroke him. I can see from his reaction that he's not used to being touched like this. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it. He's just not used to it. He whimpers softly and closes his eyes.

"Take your time. Your owners don't know that you're awake again. And they won't know until you're ready. Or not at all."

At the mention of his owners, he flinches and whimpers. I nod. I can understand him well. I stroke him again and straighten up. I look over at Mittens.

"You provide him with everything he needs and wants... it doesn't matter what. I have one or two customers to take care of. We'll talk later, when he's a little better."

I look down at Fiffi again He looks at me with his big brown eyes and blinks slowly.

"Yes, I'll take care of everything here."

Mittens tells me. I nod silently and leave the room.

I take care of two appointments that are due today. Nothing special, but the work has to be done. It takes me a while to finish them and I see Mittens leave and re-enter the room several times. When I finally release my last customer back into the care of his owner, I make my way to the surveillance room. I stop briefly in front of the door and collect my thoughts. I open the door and enter the room. I am greeted by Mittens, who is standing next to Fiffi's bed, bringing the teacup to his mouth. I smile slightly and approach the bed. Our patient makes an effort to drink and not spill anything. Mittens puts the cup down and straightens up.

"How does it look?"

I ask quietly and look down at Fiffi. He's clearly not fully awake, but that's not surprising given the amount of pain medication currently flowing through his system.

"He's doing quite well. But I think he has something to discuss with you."

Mittens replies, placing the cup on a small bedside table next to the bed. Fiffi looks at me. I can see the pain and despair in his eyes. I bend down.

"So, my boy. I promised you I would respect your decision and do my best to help you. I think Mittens has explained everything to you... How do you want to proceed?"

I speak quietly and slowly. And don't take my eyes off him the whole time. Fiffi nods slightly. He still can't move the way he would like to. The pain on the one hand and the injuries on the other prevent him from moving as he wishes. He swallows and licks his lips. He starts several times, but doesn't manage to speak at first. He whimpers softly and blinks. I stroke his head.

"Take your time, boy."

I say softly. He tries to breathe deeply, but stops with a pained whimper. The broken ribs make breathing difficult. I wait patiently. He starts again.

"Do... Doc... make it stop... do... do... do not let me go back..."

He has a nice voice. It's soft, but if he wasn't so weakened, it would be powerful and voluminous. I stroke him and wipe a tear from his cheek.

"Are you sure about this? This is something that can't be undone."

I keep my voice low and try to be strong for him when he can't be. His breathing is fast and shallow. He tries to lift his hand and grabs my arm. He licks his lips again.

"Pl... please... I'm already dead..."

I can feel the lump in my throat and I don't dare look over at Mittens. I only hear her claws scratching the hard plastic of the bed rail. I nod slightly.

"It's alright. Do you have a last wish?"

It's hard for me to say the words, but I try not to let it show. He looks at Mittens and whimpers. He can't move his other arm. He moves his lips but can't make a sound. It's as if he's trying to think out the sentence before he says it. He tries to take another deep breath, this time more slowly. He swallows.

"Mi... Mittens... I'd like some ice cream... I-I've never had ice cream before..."

Mittens nods and gets off her stool. She quickly leaves the room and makes her way to the fridge. When she's gone, Fiffi looks at me. He raises his eyebrows.

"I...I'm scared..."

I nod. I stroke him and take his hand.

"I know...it's okay."

I try to sound confident. He turns his head slightly towards me. I can see how hard it is for him.

"Is... is it going to hurt?"

I shake my head.

"No... It'll just be like falling asleep... You close your eyes and then it's over... no more pain, no more worry... no more fear..."

My voice breaks as I answer him. He closes his eyes and for a moment I can see something like peace on his face. When he opens his eyes again, he looks a little more composed.

"That's good..."

He says with a sigh. Mittens comes back with a portion of ice cream. She walks around the bed and climbs back onto her stool. Fiffi turns his head back to Mittens. He tries to smile, but without his teeth the gesture seems a little strange. I can't help but notice again what a handsome guy he'd be if he hadn't been so messed up.

"I got you some ice cream."

She says quietly and takes the spoon. I carefully slide my hand under his head and help him lift his head a little.

Mittens feeds him a spoonful of the cold delicacy. Fiffi takes his time and enjoys it. When he finally swallows, you can see the satisfaction on his face. We take it slowly and Fiffi can enjoy his last meal to the full. When the little bowl is finished and Mittens puts it on the bedside table with the cup, the mood in the room changes considerably. We all know that it makes little sense to put off the inevitable any longer. There are only two options. Either we let Fiffi's owners know that he has regained consciousness and they will come and collect him, or we end it now.

Mitten's lips quiver. She has her ears pinned back and I can literally feel her anger and disappointment. She holds Fiffi's hand and strokes him. I'm about to draw up the necessary medication. It's not particularly sophisticated. It's basically an overdose of the narcotic I've already used to sedate him for the operation. It's just coupled with a second injection to induce cardiac arrest. I bring the tray with the three syringes to the bed and look down at Fiffi. I smile painedly.

"Last chance, my boy."

He turns his head towards me and looks at me for a long time. He swallows and blinks. It takes a moment before he nods. I nod too and press my lips together. I take the first syringe, and attach it to the T-piece of the IV. It alone would be fatal. I can see him squeeze Mittens' hand tighter as he closes his eyes. I take heart and push the plunger of the syringe all the way down.

"It's about to get a little cold..."

I say quietly. Fiffi opens his eyes and looks at me.

"Wa... was I a good boy?"

His voice is almost toneless. I put my hand on his head and stroke him.

"Yes... yes you are a good boy..."

I say. I can hear Mittens sobbing next to me. Fiffi's vision clouds over and he finds it hard to keep his eyes open. He takes another deep breath and sighs.

"...Th... than..."

I feel it rumbling inside me, but I stay calm. For him... for Mittens...

"It's OK. You can let go... we're staying here..."

I'm getting hot, I can feel my emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Fiffi closes his eyes. All the tension drains out of him. The drug works quickly. Another 10 seconds and he will stop breathing. I take the next syringe. I connect it to the access port and press the plunger down. Fiffi's breathing becomes slower, shallower... He is already deep in anesthesia. His body rears up one last time against death. One last breath. I take the last injection and give the lethal dose of neurotoxin that will stop his heart. As his last breath escapes him, his features are almost peaceful. I take the stethoscope and search for his heartbeat.

"He has made it."

I finally say and take the stethoscope off again. Mittens sobs silently. It's hard every time I have to let one of my patients go, but rarely is it so merciless. I remove the last syringe from the access and close the T-piece again. I know I shouldn't talk to Mittens now. She's highly emotional about these things, especially when, as in this case, it's clearly the humans' fault. I take the syringes and dispose of them before quietly leaving the room.

I go into my consulting room and sit down in my chair. I try not to let my emotions get the better of me. I know that he won't be the first or the last to be admitted in this or perhaps even worse condition. I take a deep breath and switch on my computer. I lean back and think about what I should write in the report. I look at my watch and take the microphone.

"Documentation case 324, February 25. 2533, 16:27h.

An unexpected complication led to a stroke when the patient was woken up. The patient's respiratory center was severely affected. Despite immediate initiation of emergency protocols, the patient could not be saved. Respiratory arrest occurred at 16:10. Resuscitation measures were unsuccessful and the patient was officially pronounced dead at 16:25. No autopsy has yet been performed on the body. We are awaiting clearance from the owners.

Toxscreen revealed no significant abnormalities, inflammation levels slightly elevated.

We are closing the file until clearance by the owners.

End of report."

I put the microphone down on the desk and lean back in my chair. I feel sick at the thought of having to inform the owners. I call up the service file and update the invoice. The high five-figure amount under the last line brings tears to my eyes. My thoughts turn to the problem of how I can make them understand that their pet has died, that they have to pay for it and yet they still don't investigate.

I hear the door open. I look over and see Mittens standing at the door. She looks terrible. I wave her over. I don't need to tell her anything. There's nothing to say. She comes to me and climbs onto my lap without hesitation. She literally crawls into me. I hug her and hold her tight. We sit in my consulting room without saying a word. Occasionally her body is shaken by her sobs. I just hold her tight, give her support while her world crumbles around her once again. I gently stroke her back.

I don't know exactly how long we sit like this. Eventually it is Mittens who pushes away from me. Her eyes are swollen and red, her lips are trembling. She looks at me.

"Why?"

Is all she says. I nod. We've had this discussion countless times. She chews her lip. She knows the answers and she knows that neither she nor I will change anything. She sits like that for a moment and I can feel her wanting an answer from me. When I don't give her one, her whole body starts to tremble. I can see it building up inside her and finally it bursts out of her.

"I hate humans!"

She screams it into the room, simultaneously clawing her own upper arms and biting her own lip.

"AAAAAAhahahaaaargh...."

She collapses on my lap and I can only just catch her and keep her from falling to the floor. I pull her gently towards me and lean her against my chest. She cries with anger... anger at the world that allows these things to happen... at the humans who do these things... at the animals who don't fight back... and anger at herself for being powerless in this situation...

I know she doesn't hate all humans. She doesn't hate me. Even if she also holds a grudge against me in these situations, because I, as a human being, am part of the problem. But she is so emotionally upset that she can no longer separate the two. Again, I act as her rock in the surf. Unwavering, immovable, loyal, I withstand all storms and give her the support she needs.

We sit like this for quite a while before she has calmed down enough for me to lay her down on a sofa. I take one of the blankets from the closet and cover her up. It's not so much sleeping because she's tired... it's more sleeping because her body doesn't know how else to deal with the stress. I gently stroke her head and quietly leave the room.

I return to the monitoring room. Fiffi is lying peacefully in his bed. I take a deep breath and go to him. He is already much colder. I start by removing all the access points. I work slowly, respectfully and carefully. After everything he has been through, I don't want to disturb his final rest any more than absolutely necessary. I also remove the last drain. I place his hands together on his stomach and flatten the bed so that he is in a neutral position before rigor mortis sets in. Finally, I take the blanket and pull it up over his head.

"May it be easy for you."

I whisper and leave the room again. I walk slowly to reception. On the way, I dial the number of his owners. It takes a moment, but eventually someone answers the call. It's a different voice to the last time.

"Good afternoon, this is the Caretaker... yes, exactly the one... I'm afraid I have very bad news... yes, it's about... product no. 9442123... exactly... unfortunately your pet passed away this afternoon... yes, very tragic... we have tried everything... most likely a stroke... the respiratory center... yes, respiratory arrest... unfortunately nothing more could be done... of course we cannot replace the loss, a pet cannot be replaced... yes, a family member... we would like to offer to waive a significant portion of the cost of treatment... yes, after all, we couldn't save him... yes, it was a miracle... yes, a terrible accident... no, we didn't autopsy him... we wanted to wait until you were informed... yes, the cost of an autopsy is very high... at least 10.000 credits... no, it wouldn't actually bring him back... no, just the cause of death... no, of course not... we should let him rest in peace... yes, I agree with you... and my heartfelt condolences to the wife too... yes, I can take care of it... Thank you very much... Goodbye."

This time I can't control myself. The headset flies through the reception room and shatters against the opposite wall. I lean on the counter and breathe heavily. I call the bill for Fiffi's stay to mind and put my imaginary red pencil to work. I'm going to lose a lot of money because I have to pay for the materials and a lot more, but if it means I can avoid investigating the case, it's just what I need. I pick up my phone and call a service provider for the disposal of animal carcasses. I've known him for a long time and know that he treats the bodies with respect.

When he arrives some time later, I have prepared Fiffi and Mittens is waiting for us in the monitoring room. I come into the room with him. He pushes a trolley in front of him with a stylized coffin lying on top made of plastic.

"What, they did that to him? They're disgusting!"

I nod and close the door behind us. He nods to Mittens, who is standing behind the bed. She has caught herself. She's still very emotional, but at least she's got herself under control enough not to attack the service provider. He comes to the bed with me. Mittens and I have wrapped Fiffi in a sheet.

"Such a handsome fellow. A disgrace."

He strokes Fiffi's head gently.

"We'll take him to his next life with dignity."

He assures us.

We carefully lift Fiffi's body into the coffin and the service provider says goodbye.

I'm left alone with Mittens. It's going to take a lot of cuddling to get her out of this hole again.

...

Name: Ms. Daisy

Breed: Canis Erectus III

Task: Grooming

Today is going to be a good day. One of my favorite regular clients is coming over for grooming today. I've been looking forward to this appointment all day. I stand at reception and wait happily and relaxed. It doesn't take long before I see my client's car pull up. I smile; after the last few days, which have been full of low points for me, this appointment is a welcome distraction.

The door opens and Ms. Daisy enters my store. She comes in with small, slow steps and thanks her chauffeur warmly. Benjamin has been the family butler for almost 40 years and we have known each other for almost as long. He enters the store after Ms. Daisy and closes the door behind him.

"Greetings to you. Dear lady..."

I take Ms. Daisy's hand and indicate a little kiss. Ms. Daisy smiles kindly at me and waits until we have settled our business.

"...Benjamin..."

I nod to the butler and he nods back with a smile.

"What's on today?"

I ask and turn to Benjamin. The butler comes to the reception desk and pulls his glasses and a small booklet out of his pocket. He puts on his glasses and opens the booklet. He leafs through it for a moment and then reads aloud.

"Madame Stefanie requests a full grooming. The fur needs to be trimmed and the claws too."

He closes the booklet and puts it back in his pocket. He slowly takes off his glasses.

"So all in all, the usual. Ms. Daisy has been looking forward to this visit all day."

I smile and nod.

"The pleasure is all mine. I'll take care of everything. Would you like to wait, or should I let you know when we're ready?"

I ask and open the partition. Benjamin negates.

"I have a few other things to do. I would appreciate it if you could let me know as soon as Ms. Daisy can be picked up."

His expression is as chosen and courteous as ever. I nod.

"Good, I'll take care of everything, don't worry."

Benjamin bows curtly and says goodbye. He turns on his heel and walks quickly out of my store. I look at Ms. Daisy and wave her in. She already knows the drill. She's been coming to me since she's been living in Madame Stefanie's household. She comes to me slowly and walks past me. She thanks me with a nod. I close the partition again and follow her into my work area.

Ms. Daisy is an old puppy now. I look forward to every further visit she pays me, as we don't know how much longer she'll be around.

"How are you today, dear lady?"

I ask with genuine interest. We agreed some time ago that I would address her in this way. Because her attitude has always been so distinguished. We both know she's a perfectly normal dog, but it's part of the game and we both like it.

"Oh great, great, my dear. And how are you?"

Despite her age, her voice has lost none of its wit. It sounds warm, a little rough, but incredibly affectionate. I smile and pass her easily to open the door to the grooming room. I bow slightly and wave her in. She thanks me with a friendly nod and enters the room. I follow her into the room and close the door behind me. She walks on to the middle of the room. I come to her and carefully remove her stole and large hat. I place both on a shelf next to the door.

"I'm fine so far, thank you for asking. The last few days have been very stressful."

Ms. Daisy turns to me and her hands reach out to my cheeks. She looks a little worried.

"I knew it. I have seen it in your eyes. Whatever it was, don't take it to heart like that."

Her hands are incredibly gentle. And there's an infinite amount of affection in her touch. I smile and nod slightly.

"Yes, I make an effort, but it's not always easy. I have too personal a relationship with my customers and patients. Whenever something unfortunate happens, it hits me hard."

I explain and enjoy the familiarity with her. She smiles and nods.

"Yes, you're too emphatic, that makes you vulnerable to such dangers."

She strokes my cheeks with her thumbs and pulls her hands away again.

"But look at me. Babbling on uselessly here. We have so much work to do."

She babbles to herself and makes the universal "blah blah blah" gesture with both hands. She turns around again. She knows the drill and walks over to the small stool and takes a seat. She places her hands demonstratively on her thighs and looks at me again in a completely ladylike manner. I shake my head slightly and can't help but grin.

"Of course, my lady, you're right. Let's get started."

I reply and step behind her. Actually, there's not usually that much to do with her. Her owner looks after her devotedly and it's usually just a few little things. We are approaching a shedding period, so I will try to remove as much undercoat as possible and get her coat back into shape. I take one of the brushes from my tool wall, as well as a comb and a pair of scissors. I pull out my rolling stool and take a seat. Ms. Daisy has a wonderful, soft, sleek and very well-groomed coat. I smile contentedly as I take the comb and carefully run it through her coat. It glides through her fur with almost no resistance.

"I see that Madame Stefanie is still meticulous about her grooming."

I say and continue to comb through her fur roughly to see if there are any tangles.

"Oh yes. It's still a daily ritual that Madame Stefanie observes meticulously. Not that I have anything against it. I enjoy the attention. It brings us closer together."

The way Ms. Daisy tells this with conviction makes me smile, and it restores a little of my faith in humanity. It's not all bad pet owners.

I put the comb aside and pick up the brush. It has been specially designed to remove the undercoat as gently as possible from fine fur like this. I stroke her coat and can feel her straighten up against my hand. I apply the brush with a smile. I pull it carefully through her coat. The brush glides through the hair with little resistance and pulls some loose fur out of the pelt. I nod and repeat the process. Slowly and thoroughly, I work my way from her head to her neck and further down to her back. A small pile of removed hair grows next to me. I apply the brush and hold the fur and skin back with my other hand above. This way I can ensure that I make the brushing as pleasant as possible.

"I notice you're changing your coat, my lady."

I remark as I remove another handful of hair from the brush and drop it on the pile next to me. Ms. Daisy nods slightly.

"Yes, it's springing very early this year. That makes sure I'm on early. Ms. Stefanie is not very happy about it. It means I'll be changing my coat for longer."

There's a certain amount of mischievousness in her statement. I nod. I've known Madame Stefanie for a long time and I know how clean she is. There are few things that annoy her more than hair lying around. On the other hand, she has always had pets that shed a lot of hair. Ms. Daisy is no exception. Her breed could best be compared to a golden retriever. She has a beautiful coat, but unfortunately she also sheds constantly. You can keep it under control a little by brushing her regularly, but she will always shed.

I continue to work my way down her back. She visibly enjoys the attention and slowly starts to wag her tail. She can't help it, it's the nature of her breed. I smile and at least try to stop her from spreading her now considerable pile of undercoat all over the room.

"Ohh my lady, did I hit the right spot?"

I ask jokingly and Ms. Daisy giggles slightly.

"Ooooh, you charmer."

She replies and waves me off. But we both know that I'm at a point where she's going to have to pull herself together to stop her leg from twitching. I consider for a moment whether I should take advantage of it a little, but decide against it. I reach the base of her tail and switch back to the comb.

"Would you mind standing for a moment?"

Ms. Daisy readily complies with my request and stands up. I carefully take her tail and comb it out. Again, I am pleased to see that very few tangles have crept into her coat. I pick up the brush again and brush out her tail too. It's more difficult than I thought as she won't keep still. Joys and sorrows with the friendly dogs. I finish brushing her tail and let go of the oversized feather duster. I am rewarded with immediate enthusiastic wagging. I shake my head and smile.

"Please turn once."

I demand in a good mood. Ms. Daisy performs an elegant turn and now stands in front of me, looking down at me with a smile.

"Is it good like that?"

She asks and I nod. I take a quick look at the coat in its entirety and then tap my knee. Ms. Daisy looks at me a little reservedly.

"How naughty."

Her feigned indignation is easy to see through, especially because we've known each other for so long and she knows exactly what I'm about to do. But in the end she is well-behaved and puts her foot on my knee. I take the comb and carefully comb through the thin fur on her lower leg. I am careful because her fur is not very thick here and there is not quite as much undercoat. I don't want to hurt her. But everything looks fine. Since I have the foot so close at hand, I check it in one go. Here, too, everything seems to be in perfect order. I nod and give her a hand to stabilize it while she puts her foot back on the ground and lifts the other leg. I proceed in the same way with this leg too. I carefully comb the fur and check the foot. I find a small lump on the calf that I can't quite put my finger on.

"Ms. Daisy, are you familiar with this growth?"

I ask as I try to delineate the small tumor. She looks at me questioningly and reaches for it.

"No. I've never noticed it before. But well. I'm an old girl. I'm allowed to have little bumps."

She replies and looks at me questioningly. I make a mental note and decide to let Benjamin know later. If Madame Stefanie decides she wants to investigate, we can always do an examination. I smile and stroke her calf.

"Well, it shouldn't bother us for the moment. You can put your leg back down."

Ms. Daisy nods and puts her leg back down on the floor. I wave her a little closer to take care of her thigh. I can't help but smile. Despite her age, she has kept her figure. I admire the beautiful line that connects her waist to her hip and further to her thigh. It doesn't go unnoticed by her.

"Oooh Caretaker, you little lecher."

She jokes, stroking my head. I look up at her face and grin.

"Awww you totally caught me. I'm a naughty Caretaker."

I return, stroking the inside of her thigh. Ms. Daisy turns her leg out a little to give me better access. She starts to pant and smiles down at me. We both know that nothing is going to happen. But a little fun at work is allowed. Her soft fur and the warmth of her leg feel wonderful. I take the comb and start combing her coat. I find a few knots on the inside of her thigh, but that's to be expected. I undo them as carefully as possible so as not to hurt her. She whimpers a little as it is now pulling in quite sensitive places. After I have undone the last knot, I put the comb aside and stroke her extensively.

"Brave girl."

I praise her softly and pick up the brush. I follow the usual system and brush out a large part of her undercoat. The pile next to me continues to grow and grow unstoppably. When I've finished, it's very clear from comparing the two thighs which side I haven't brushed yet. The finished leg looks much slimmer, more elegant and the fur lies nicer on the leg. It also looks as if the coat is shinier.

"Take a look at that, my lady. Wonderful."

I say and point to the large mirror on the wall. Ms. Daisy turns to the mirror and looks at her leg in comparison to the other. She turns it back and forth, runs her hand over her leg and nods with satisfaction.

"Very nice. Very nice indeed. Can I show you my other leg too?"

She asks, knowing of course that I'm not just going to brush her one leg.

"But of course, my lady. I'll take care of it right away."

I reply and wait for her to turn back to me. Ms. Daisy turns elegantly towards me, her hips tilted pertly to one side and grins at me. I make an inviting gesture and wave her back towards me. She takes a step towards me and puts her leg between my feet. I grin at her and place my hand gently on the outside of her thigh.

"But my lady, now it's you who's being naughty."

I state with amusement and gently stroke her thigh. She reaches out for my head and smiles as she runs her hand through my hair.

"Not that I have anything against that."

I add. She pats my cheek and denies it with the index finger of her other hand.

"No, no. I'm not poaching in Mittens' hunting grounds."

Ms. Daisy replies, and her benevolent smile is infectious. I start combing her fur and concentrate on my work. Ms. Daisy looks around and sniffs the air.

"Where is Mittens anyway? I haven't seen her yet today."

She asks, looking down at me. I put the comb down and pick up the brush. I take a deep breath. When I look up at her, my worry is very clear in my expression.

"She's asleep."

I say quietly. I wait a moment before continuing. Ms. Daisy tilts her head.

"She's never... slept through one of my visits..."

She states, and her look leaves no doubt that she wants answers. She knows that she has no right to answers, but she also knows that I don't want to hide anything from her.

"I've given her something to calm her down. Don't worry, nothing too strong."

I add and take another breath.

"The last few days have been hard on her. You know how she is. She gets very emotional very quickly. The case a few days ago brought her close to a nervous breakdown. I'm still working on getting her back on track."

I explain calmly as I continue to brush her thigh. Ms. Daisy looks down at me in complete shock. She holds a hand in front of her mouth.

"Oh my God, that's terrible. I hope she gets back on her feet. I would be heartbroken if she were to break over that."

The consternation in her voice is palpable. I nod and find a rather nasty lump on the inside of her thigh.

"Yeah, I'd blame myself endlessly, even if I couldn't do anything about it. ... We'll have to cut this one out."

I add. And make a mental note. She looks down and I can literally feel the slightly embarrassed look on her face.

"Ohhh..."

She says quietly. I tap my knee again and she willingly puts her foot on my leg. I take the scissors and check their sharpness. I know that all my tools are always in perfect order, but it's a habit I don't want to break. I snip the scissors once or twice and turn to Ms. Daisy.

The knot is in a delicate spot just a few centimeters from her pubic area. I carefully try to loosen the knot as much as possible from the surrounding fur before I apply the scissors.

"Please don't flinch now."

I say calmly and I can feel Ms. Daisy tense up.

*snip*

I have the culprit in my hand. I put the scissors aside and show her the knot.

"That's a big lump."

She admits. I stroke her a little and try to shape the fur so that the small hole isn't completely noticeable. I can feel the warmth radiating from the center of her body and I have to smile. She's an old girl, but she's never been sterilized. Her natural reproductive instinct is still there. Madame Stefanie would never think of wanting to breed with Ms. Daisy, but she is quite aroused by my intense touching in this area. She would never admit it, and I would never want to take advantage of it, but it is amusing to see how much she has to hold back.

"All right my lady, you may sit down again. We'll do your arms and then we'll work on your styling a little more."

I say calmly and point to the stool behind her. She slowly puts her leg down and turns around. It's almost as if she's disappointed that I haven't taken advantage of the situation. She sits down on the stool and crosses her legs. She puts her hands seductively on her knee and gives me a cheeky look. I smile back and pick up the comb. I hold out my hand and she elegantly offers me hers. I take her hand gently in mine, hinting at a hand-kiss. She giggles a little and I start to comb through her coat. I work slowly and methodically. Fortunately, I find almost no tangles. I can comb out the few that I do find. I take the brush and start carefully brushing out her arm. The pile of hair next to me continues to grow. I finish the first arm and let go of her hand. She pulls her hand back and runs the other over her arm. Her expression is satisfied and relaxed. Smiling, I hold my hand out to her again. With a wink, she extends her second arm towards me. I take her hand in mine again. I take the comb and start my work again. I only find a few small nodules on this arm too. I switch to the brush and start working on the second arm. Soon I have also brushed this arm thoroughly. I hand her arm back to her and stand up.

I go to my tool wall and take some other scissors and another comb from the wall. I turn back to Ms. Daisy.

"Shall we try a spring cut?"

I ask jokingly, snipping the air with one of the scissors. She laughs lightly and nods.

"Yes, of course. Make me pretty again."

Ms. Daisy replies and sits upright on her stool with her back to me. I smile and sit back down on my stool. I pick up the comb and comb through the fur on her head. I bring it into shape and start to trim the tips here and there and add a little shape to the cut. The snipping of the scissors accompanies my humming as I take care of her hair. I am careful not to cut too much length as I know how much Madame Stefanie loves her coat. I can see in the mirror how much Ms. Daisy is enjoying the procedure. I lift one of her ears and clean the cut underneath. I repeat the whole thing on the other side. I stroke her head again to see if everything is symmetrical. It's fine. I roll around her. I take the smaller scissors and the smaller comb.

"Please close your eyes and hold still."

I demand and she complies willingly. I find a few small areas on her face that need correcting and trim the fur accordingly. Then I comb it into shape a little.

"My dear, you already look years younger."

I mean it. Now that all the little imperfections have been removed and her coat is much smoother against her skin, she looks younger, more dynamic and slimmer. She smiles warmly. I place my fingers gently on her chin and lift it slightly. I take the larger comb again and comb the fur on her neck straight down. I apply the scissors and trim the tips and clean up the overall picture. I stroke her neck and her coat naturally follows the contours of her neck. Very beautiful. I can feel her breathing in deeper. A slight grin creeps onto my face. I roll around her again and start to work on her neck. After combing her fur and shaping it a little in the necessary places, I stroke her neck with both hands. It is easy to see how much she likes this touch. I smile broadly and slowly work my way down her back. Her fur is much longer on her back, which makes it more difficult to find the right cut. But I manage to show off her pelt nicely and still remove a little length and density. I reach her waist and stop. I roll forward again. I am greeted with a smile.

"Are you happy so far, my lady?"

I ask cheerfully and receive a cautious nod.

"I'm pleasantly surprised so far, but I don't want to praise the result before the end."

She replies just as cheerfully. I nod. A good answer. I gesture to her to straighten up. She complies with my request and straightens up to her full height. I take the comb and begin to comb through her fur, following the natural direction of growth. I look at the result and begin to shape the fur. Again and again I run my hands over Ms. Daisy's chest and check whether the result is as I want it. As this side is the one you see first, it must of course be as close to perfect as possible. Again and again I catch Ms. Daisy biting her lips and clenching her hands. I have to smile.

"Excuse my brash manner, unfortunately there's no other way."

I explain, knowing full well that she fully approves of this manner.

"It's alright, my friend. Just get on with it."

She replies and takes a deep breath. I reach her stomach and stop. I take one of her arms and lift it horizontally. I repeat my procedure from the other sections. First I comb through the fur, then I start to shape the cut. In the area of the arms, I make sure that the fur is not too long under the armpits and cannot get knotted there. At the crook of the elbow I remove any protruding parts and on the hands I use the small comb and the small scissors again.

"How short do you want the fur between your fingers and in the palm of your hand?"

I ask and comb the fur, which is already quite short, in the direction of growth.

"I'm quite happy with the length as it is. Maybe neaten it up a little?"

She finally says and runs the fingers of her other hand over the sides of her fingers. I nod and pull out the small scissors. It only takes a moment and her hand is finished. She beams at me and immediately hands me her second arm. I proceed in the same way as before and a little later I am satisfied with the result of my work so far.

"Good, let's move on to the more difficult part. Please stand up again."

I ask Ms. Daisy sympathetically. She complies with my request without hesitation. Her movements are as elegant as ever. Now that she is standing in front of me again, the difference between the upper half of her body, which is already finished, and the lower half, which I have not yet styled, is striking. I roll behind her again. Her tail wags back and forth in a relaxed manner. It's going to be a bit of a challenge to get it into shape again. I grab it firmly and hold on to her tail. Ms. Daisy flinches slightly and makes a small startled sound. I can't help but grin. I lift her tail slightly and comb through the fur. Then I use the scissors to cut a nice shape into the long fur of the tail. I don't let go of her tail yet, however, but take advantage of the fact that I have at least partial control over it to shape her fur around the base of her tail. Of course, this involves a few slightly embarrassing moments, but she has to endure them for now. I manage to get her bottom into shape quite quickly and can let go of her tail again. She gives me a playfully angry look over her shoulder, but I know that if I were to smack her bottom with the flat of my hand now, she would actually like it. But I don't get distracted, I keep working. I work on the back of her hips and thighs. It all goes quite quickly as there's not much to do here. I roll around her again to her front. I look up at her.

"Can we do this standing up, or would you prefer to lie down, my lady?"

I ask outright. I have the feeling that if she could, she would be blushing right now. She knows what's coming. The lower belly, the private parts and the front and inside of her thighs. It's going to be a bit of a gauntlet. We've done it all umpteen times before. We both know that nothing will happen. I'm too professional for that and she's able to hold back. When she was young, we came very close to a catastrophe here and there, but not anymore. She nods.

"I can manage that. I'm strong."

She says, but there is some doubt resonating in her voice. I don't go into it any further, but get on with my work. I comb the fur on her belly in the direction of growth and am careful not to irritate her teats too much. I take the scissors and begin to trim her coat. I accentuate her slender figure and try to emphasize the fine lines of her body. I do my best not to thin out the fur on her belly too much. I work my way further down. I try to work out the line of her groin a little. As I work, I can see how hard Ms. Daisy has to strain to stay still. The closer I get to her intimate area, the more her legs begin to tremble and her breathing speeds up. I can feel the heat emanating from her. I switch to the small comb and the small scissors. I want an aesthetically pleasing result. I don't want to draw the eye's attention there, but I still want the overall look to meet the owner's wishes in the end. Ms. Daisy leans on my shoulders. Her breathing is quick. I stroke her coat once more and bring it into the desired shape. I straighten up and stabilize her hands.

"Good girl, I'm so proud of you."

I say softly. I can see the arousal on her face. She swallows and smiles slightly.

"You rascal, you just want to tease me a little. But I have to admit, you're very good at it. No wonder Mittens is so attached to you."

She gasps as she slowly calms down again. I nod and smile. I can smell her arousal. Looking down, I can see how close we came to a minor disaster once again. I stroke her flank gently.

"Shall we finish with the legs? Then you can relax, my lady."

I ask and look up at her again. She swallows again and then nods. She straightens up and gratefully takes the hand I offer for safety as she places her leg on my knee. This reveals her innermost parts and I can see how wet her fur is there. It was a little intense this time. I make a mental note to myself that I'll do things a little differently next time.

I work more carefully on the legs as I don't want to overwhelm Ms. Daisy now that she is only standing on one leg. I comb the coat and shape it. There's not much to cut. I just have to neaten the contours a little and emphasize the lines a little. In the end, I'm very happy with the result. When she puts her leg back on the ground and I roll back a little, I'm faced with a completely new dog. She looks much younger. Her lines are more dynamic and she looks slimmer. Her coat is shiny and lies silky against her body. I am very pleased. I release her view in the mirror.

"I think Madame Stefanie will be very, very pleased. The result is impressive."

I praise my customer and she looks at herself in the mirror. She twists and turns. Despite her age, her movements look elegant and fluid. She is positively radiant and smiles happily as she enjoys the sight of her body in the mirror. Finally, she turns to me.

"You achieve little miracles every time."

She says and spreads her arms out. I stand up and do the same. She comes towards me and hugs me warmly. I wrap my arms around her too and stroke her back. She lets herself sink completely into my arms and her affection is almost boundless. Her tail wags comfortably from side to side. She takes a deep breath and after a moment of relaxation, she releases me from her embrace again. She is such a good girl. I stroke her cheek and she closes her eyes and rests her head in my hand. I enjoy the absolute trust she places in me.

"Shall we take you to the Snoezelen room then?"

I ask quietly and she nods into my hand. Slowly, she takes her head back from my palm and opens her eyes again. I nod and turn towards the door. I take her stole and hat and walk ahead.

I open the door to the Snoezelen room and place her things on a small shelf next to the door. She happily follows me into the room and walks independently to the large bed in the middle of the room. She sits down and finally turns over. I take a seat next to her for a moment.

"Very good. Is everything alright?"

I ask and get a relaxed nod in response. I take her hand, indicate a small hand-kiss and stand up again.

"Good, I'll let you relax a little then."

I say quietly and stand up again. She gives me a relaxed wave before I leave the room and silently close the door behind me. I smile broadly in the hallway. There are simply customers that you look forward to every time they appear in the calendar.

I walk down the corridor in a good mood and open the door that leads to my private chambers. I climb the stairs and shortly afterwards enter my bedroom. Mitten's small, petite body is almost unnoticeable under the covers. She is curled up in the middle of the bed. Her chest rises and falls slightly with each breath. I watch her for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. I touch her gently on the shoulder and place my hand on her arm. She lets out a soft purr to let me know that she has registered me.

"Hey little darling, someone's waiting for you downstairs."

I whisper. Mitten's ears twitch slightly. I stroke her arm lightly. I wait a moment until I'm sure she's awake enough to follow me.

"Ms. Daisy is downstairs. She's waiting for you in the Snoezelen room."

I say quietly and immediately feel my little assistant come to life. She turns towards me. Her eyes are still half closed. The sedative hasn't completely worn off yet.

"Daisy's here?"

Mittens asks me and I nod. She opens her eyes a little more.

"She's been asking about you, she's worried."

I explain and have to hold Mittens back slightly so she doesn't just jump out of bed.

"Slow down, girl... you're not really awake yet. I don't want you to fall down the stairs."

Mittens looks at me, slightly annoyed, but knows I'm right. She slowly turns around and sits up. She sways a little, but quickly stabilizes again. She stretches extensively and then slowly slides to the edge of the bed. She stands up in front of me and holds on to my hand. She turns to me and looks at me tiredly. A smile slowly appears on her face.

"Thank you for waking me up."

She finally says and hugs me. I return the hug and give her a little kiss on the top of her head. Then we both go downstairs. While Mittens turns off towards the Snoezelen room in my work area, I go to reception. I dial Benjamin's number and wait patiently until he picks up.

"Hello... Yes, exactly... Ms. Daisy is still in the ball bath... Yes, I think she can be picked up in about half an hour... Yes, it's no problem if it's a little later... I'm sure she won't be angry if she can stay a little longer... no, of course, everything's fine... thank you... see you later."

I hang up and lean against the counter. Some days are better than others. Today is one of those days. I leave the two in the back to talk in peace. I'd probably just disturb them anyway. They'll probably spend half an hour talking about stupid people and girls' issues. But that needs to happen at least sometimes. I'm really glad that the two of them get on so well. It makes things a lot easier.

After all, Benjamin is almost on time. I see the big car pull up in the parking lot and his easily recognizable figure fills the doorway a short time later as he comes into my store.

"Greetings."

He opens and bows slightly. I nod to him too.

"Very nice. I'll just go and get Ms. Daisy."

I say quietly and go to my work area. The cackling of the two girls in the Snoezelen room can already be heard a long way down the corridor. I knock softly on the door and the room immediately falls silent. I open the door a crack and stick my head through.

"Don't you do naughty things when I'm not around?"

I ask jokingly, narrowly avoiding the pillow that is thrown at my head. The two of them are sitting on the bed, wrapped up in blankets and clearly having a lot of fun. Ms. Daisy already knows why I'm there and nods.

"Benjamin's here to pick you up."

I say quietly and Ms. Daisy unwraps herself from her blanket. She slides off the bed and comes to me in a good mood. I hand her her stole and hat. I look over at Mittens, who is sitting on the bed in a visibly good mood and waves to Ms. Daisy.

"It was nice to see you again."

She calls out and Ms. Daisy blows her a kiss. Giggling, she walks past me into the hallway while Mittens falls backwards onto the bed, hit by the kiss.

I close the door behind us and follow Ms. Daisy to the front desk.

"I'm so glad Mittens has found such a compassionate owner in you."

Ms. Daisy says softly as she smoothes her fur once more. I smile.

"I'm glad to have Mittens. She's helped me a lot since she's been with me."

I reply and stroke the fur on her back again. She doesn't get a chance to answer me as we leave my work area and arrive at reception. She sees Benjamin and bows respectfully. Benjamin nods at her. Her whole attitude changes abruptly. She is suddenly much more formal and even more lady-like than usual. I can see from Benjamin's look that we have been very successful with our grooming.

"My lady, you look years younger."

He compliments Ms. Daisy's appearance and takes her in benevolently. He suggests we make a phone call about the cost and I nod. Ms. Daisy waits for Benjamin at the door and gives me another friendly wave.

"As always, it was an honor."

I say goodbye and Benjamin opens the door.

When they have gone, I go to Mittens in the Snoezelen room. She is still lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I come in quietly and sit down on the bed with her. I watch her for a moment and then place my hand on her belly. I stroke her gently and am rewarded with a soft purr.

"How are you?"

I finally ask in a whisper. She slowly turns her head towards me and smiles slightly.

"Better."

...

I rarely leave my store. I get almost everything I need for my daily life and work delivered to me. On the one hand, this has to do with the fact that I'm basically never off work and a new customer could enter the store at any time, but on the other hand, it mainly has to do with the fact that I'm always reminded outside where I am, who my "patrons" are and what level I'm at.

It's not quite that I'm a second-class person. That would be wrong. For those born into the Archologies. For the aristograts. For them, I'm not human at all. I am a living being that fulfills a task. That at least puts me above the pets, which are simply objects.

Since I, like every other person in the Archologies, have been implanted with a transponder, every billboard, every store, every vending machine and every person who has the necessary implant knows who and what I am.

When I walk past a billboard, offers tailored to me are automatically displayed. I am greeted by name in stores. As my name is my job title, everyone there knows immediately who is in the store.

So I'm reluctant to be out and about, but sometimes, despite all the advance planning, I can't avoid leaving my little cave that I call my store.

Today is one such day. I have to leave my store because I've run out of a much-needed stock to keep the day running smoothly and a last-minute delivery isn't possible. So I grab my coat, my bag and assure Mittens that I will be back with this most important nourishment under the sun as soon as possible.

She looks at me with big blue-green eyes, they seem to say, "I'm close to despair..."

I assure her that I will hurry. I leave my store and hurry down the street. The nearest grocery store is a few blocks away. I walk quickly, as I don't attach any great importance to being told at every bus stop that there is a new clipper from the market leader. It's new, it's still no good, but the switch is now green and no longer red and it has a 13 on it... WOW I'm impressed.

I'm just passing a narrow side street when I hear a soft whimper. My Caretaker instincts kick in immediately and I have no choice but to go into the alley. I follow the soft whimpering to a large dumpster. I look behind the dumpster and find a young feline cowering in the corner. I discreetly slip on one of my med-gloves and carefully reach out to him.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

I ask quietly and wait for his reaction. He lifts his head and looks at me, frightened. He tries to back away from my hand, but can't get away. He looks too well-groomed to be a feral feline. My glove beeps softly and I take my hand away again.

"Beep... Product No. 1002674478 - Socks..."

The glove plays back the information on the young feline's transponder. I nod quietly and look at Socks. He's breathing fast and seems close to panic.

"So Socks, right? What are you doing here, all alone?"

He looks at me out of his teal blue eyes. His ears play and his eyes keep jumping back and forth. I nod again.

"OK... I understand. I am a stranger. Your owners told you not to walk or talk to strangers, right? A very good rule."

I explain calmly and kneel down. It's more comfortable than standing bent over. Still no reaction from Socks.

"So. I'm a Caretaker. Look here."

I pull my little placard out of my pocket and show it to him. It has a pictogram on it showing a person stroking a pet.

"My job is to look after pets. If you tell me who your owners are, we can go to an Adeptus Arbites and make sure you get back home."

I keep my voice low and calm. Socks seems to calm it a little. I smile a little and put my badge away again. Meanwhile, my glove beeps once more.

"Pet is registered to Peter Harthawn. Block 1453F."

I think for a moment and then realize that this is almost at the other end of this Archology. Socks couldn't possibly have run away. He would never have managed this distance. Abandonment can also be ruled out, as he is registered and the penalties for abandoning pets are severe. So he must have gotten here somehow.

"So once again, Socks. How did you get here? Where's Peter?"

When I mention his owner's name, Socks snaps to attention. He looks at me with his mouth open.

"I would love to help you get back to Peter. But to do that, I need to know how you got here."

I continue to speak quietly and calmly. Sock's lower lip trembles. He perks up his ears and looks at me intently.

"You... you know Peter?"

He asks. I take a deep breath. At last. I decide to use a little white lie.

"I know Peter a little. Where is he when you're here?"

His eyes seem to light up. He gets up and comes to me and literally falls into my arms. He's terribly cold. Who knows how long he's been sitting here.

"It's OK. Let's go and find Peter."

I say quietly and pick up the young Feline. He doesn't weigh much, he can't be old yet. He clings to me. I wrap my coat around him.

"Where were you going?"

I ask, but Socks can't give me an answer.

"Peter said we were going somewhere nice... He wanted to show me something... And then... then he was gone..."

Socks starts to shake. I hold him tight.

"It's alright. We'll find Peter. Did you take the bus?"

I ask. Socks nods. A hint. I carry the little Feline and return to the main road. I look around to see if I can spot an Arbites. Indeed, one of these lawmen is standing two streets away, watching the traffic. I approach slowly, as I know that some Arbites tend to overreact a little. I call out when I'm still a good distance away.

"Officer? Officer?"

He turns to me and gives me a scrutinizing look.

"Citizen?"

His voice is dark and raspy, but he seems to be in a good mood. I approach slowly and carefully pull my placard out of my pocket.

"I am a Caretaker. I found this Feline who has been separated from his owner. I need help to bring them back together."

I explain calmly and point to the little Feline under my coat, who is still clinging tightly to me. The Arbites looks at me scrutinizingly for a moment. I know that he is reading my transponder and that of the Feline. I can see his pupils twitch as he reads the information reflected directly onto his retina. Finally, he nods.

"Ah yes, I can see it. His owner has already put in a search request. He's in a precinct about four clicks from here. Wait, a colleague will bring him here."

The law enforcement officer tells me. I am amazed that he is so helpful. I don't usually remember law enforcement officers being so helpful. But maybe he's just having a good day. I'm not complaining. It's not long before an Arbites patrol car pulls up next to the officer I was talking to. The door of the passenger compartment opens and a young man gets out. He looks completely unnerved. He comes towards me and when Socks sees him there's no stopping him. I don't even try but let the young feline jump off my arm and run to his owner. The Arbites next to me smiles.

"Nice to see that there are still normal relationships between owners and pets."

He mumbles and I can understand him completely. I smile.

"Well, that's settled then, am I still needed here?"

I ask and the Arbites shakes his head.

"I have your data. If there are any questions, we'll get back to you in writing. You can go now."

I nod and quickly say goodbye. But before I can leave, the owner comes up to me.

"Just wait a minute. I have to thank you. You found Socks. How can I show my appreciation?"

He seems beside himself with joy. I wave him off.

"That's not necessary. I was just doing what any decent citizen would do."

I try to deflect. But Peter persists. He wants to reward me for my good deed. I give in and he invites me for a coffee.

Please don't get me wrong. Real coffee is a rarity these days. A cup of real coffee can quickly cost several hundred credits. Reluctantly, I give in. We let the Arbites, whom Peter buys a huge box of donuts on the way, drive us to a café. When we enter the café, my chip is of course read and Peter immediately jumps on it. He is still looking for a Caretaker for Socks. And who, if not me, would be the perfect Caretaker for Socks.

We end up sitting in the café for quite a while talking. In the end, Peter insists on taking me home and orders a cab.

...

I stand in the doorway of my store and Mittens stands in front of me with the same heartbreaking look she gave me when we said goodbye.

"I forgot the cocoa..."

Name: Hades and Zeus

Breed: Equus Erectus II

Task: Grooming

I don't really do house calls. I don't like leaving my store. But sometimes, if the offer is right, I'm tempted to leave my store for a field trip. Today is such a day.

I have received an offer from a well-known breeder. He wants me to prepare two of his stallions for a breeding presentation. However, this is only possible on site. As the price on offer is downright obscene, I have agreed to do the grooming on site at the breeding show. The event takes place at the other end of the Archology, so Mittens and I are on the road early, as it will take some time to get there.

"Mittens, we have a special assignment today."

I say as I pour my tea into a thermos flask. Mittens looks up from her breakfast.

"Is that why we got up so early? I wanted to have a cuddle."

She replies and pokes at her muesli. I grin and turn around, the bottle cap still in my hand.

"Yes, we have to get to the eastern end. It's a long way. But I think you'll like it."

You can tell I'm in a good mood. I love my job, and I would love it even if it didn't make any money, but when it also makes money, it really lifts my spirits. And today it's not just a lot of money, it's also an absolutely positive job. No wounds to treat, no traumas to work through, just a bit of grooming.

"The job is outside?"

Mittens asks and puts the spoon down. I nod. Mittens knows that I don't like working in the field and she always takes the few opportunities to leave the store. Her eyes widen as she thinks hard about the occasion for which we are traveling to the eastern end of Archology. Even with the express train, it will take us at least two hours. I turn back to my thermos flask. After closing it, I put it in the small rucksack that I have already filled with food for the journey. I wait for the machine to finally finish the pot of hot chocolate so that I can put it in my rucksack too. Meanwhile, Mittens can't figure out why we're going to the other end of the Archology when there must be Caretakers there too.

"Ok, tell me, why are we going there? And where exactly are we going?"

She finally asks. I take the jug out of the machine and carefully close it. After putting it in my rucksack, I zip it up and turn to face her. I grin broadly.

"Oh, you're going to love it. We're on the Breeders Fare. Where there will be two, in words two..."

I show her two fingers...

"... stallions all primped up for the show."

I explain cheerfully and Mitten's eyes seem to light up.

"Awwwww Pooooooniiiiiies..."

She literally squeals and starts bouncing on her chair. I can't help but smile at Mitten's enthusiasm. I put the rucksack on the table and point to her muesli.

"You should finish breakfast, we still have a few things to pack and then we'll be on our way."

I say calmly and walk around the table. Mittens looks up at me with a smile and I press a loving kiss to her forehead.

"Yes, I will..."

She replies softly and I pick up my rucksack before leaving the kitchen. I climb down the stairs to the reception and leave the provisions there. I stretch and walk down the corridor to my grooming room. I have a bag that I've prepared for field work. The essentials are always packed in it. I take it out of one of the cabinets and open it. I check that everything is still inside and add what I still need. I hear Mittens enter the room behind me.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?"

She asks meekly. I smile. I turn around and point to another cupboard.

"Oh, but of course. Please take the little red bag from there and a few more towels. They should still fit in there. Mittens nods and gets to work.

We get everything together pretty quickly and are ready for our excursion.

The journey on the express train is admittedly quite boring. You sit on a train for two hours, traveling for the most part through tunnels. The video screens that replace the windows on these trains suggest that you are traveling through a green meadow landscape, but the illusion is very easy to see through. Mittens has snuggled up to me and is asleep. I have covered her with my jacket and put my arm protectively around her. I myself am busy with a book that I started reading some time ago but never had the time to finish. Every now and then I glance at the status indicator in the headrest of the seat in front of me. One hour still to go to my destination. One of the train attendants comes past my row of seats and sees Mittens sitting next to me, asleep.

"Do you need anything else? A pillow or a blanket?"

She asks in a friendly tone. I look at Mittens, who almost disappears under my jacket. I smile and look up at the lady.

"Thank you, but I think she's quite happy as it is."

I reply quietly and nod slightly. The lady nods too and continues on her way. The journey continues without any further events worth mentioning.

We get off at the terminus and follow the signs to the plaza in front. The billboards everywhere jump out at me, I hate it.

"Wouldn't you like to try our latest deshedding shampoo? It's guaranteed to loosen even the most matted hair without tugging or burning your eyes. Guaranteed dermatologically tested and biodegradable."

Just a few steps further:

"The new Furminator 3400, you won't need another brush ever again. The Furminator can be adjusted to any coat length and comes equipped with a built-in de-tangler... Your customers will love it..."

We turn the corner:

"Aren't you tired of constantly hoping your customers will pay? Use Don Jovanni's financial services. You write the bill, we'll get you your money..."

If I didn't know that only a few minutes later an Arbites would be hanging on my heels, I would pull the RFID blocker over my wrist and just let all those billboards run into the void. But they would register a citizen without a transponder and immediately inform the Adeptus Arbites and then I would be even more stressed than I already am. So I keep my fist in my pocket and walk on quickly. Every now and then I have to make sure that Mittens doesn't stop at one of the billboards advertising some new snack.

She knows exactly what I think, but advertising is designed to make people curious.

"Are you coming Mittens?"

I ask gently as she stops once again to look at the advertisement for a particularly tasty-looking snack. Just the color and consistency of what's shown in the ad leads me to believe there's a high chemical additive count. I wouldn't even give that stuff to Fiffi's owners. She looks at me with wide eyes.

"That looks delicious..."

She states naively. I smile and offer her my hand. She quickly comes running to me. I still have to get used to the sight of her. Mittens doesn't usually wear any clothes at home, but when we're out and about, she usually wears overalls and safety shoes that fit her feet. I don't want her to injure herself anywhere along the way.

"Yes, they look delicious, and I'm sure they'll taste great too, but I can promise you from the look of them alone, there will be so many chemicals in them that they'll make you sick."

I answer cheerfully and take her by the hand. Her hand is so dainty and delicate compared to mine. And she is so incredibly soft. We leave the station and stand on the plaza in front of the largest transfer hub in the eastern district of the Archology. I try to get my bearings. Even though the Archology was once built according to standardized plans, so much has changed in the years since it was built that each district is now a completely separate biosphere.

I find the cab rank and we walk over. The driver seems a little gruff, but smiles in a friendly manner. We stow our luggage and take a seat in the font.

"Where do you want to go?"

The driver asks as he gets in. I lean forward slightly.

"We have to go to Breeders Fair. Gate 3, section 4, thank you very much."

I say quietly and the driver nods. The car starts moving almost silently and we speed off along the district's main thoroughfare.

"What are you doing at Breeders Fair? You're not looking for a tomcat for your pet, are you?"

The driver asks as he continues to concentrate on the road. Mittens smiles awkwardly, and if she could she would probably blush. There is a slight tinge of red in her ears. I grin and shake my head.

"No, no. I'm a Caretaker, I have an appointment there to get some stallions ready for the show. Mittens will help me with that."

I reply with a grin. The driver laughs. A rough but hearty laugh.

"Good, good. I was wondering about that too. I didn't know they had Felines on display there too."

He says and turns off the main road. A large sign on the front of a house invites you to the Breeders Fair. The driver passes a checkpoint and we drive onto the grounds. I knew this event was big, but I hadn't imagined it would be this huge. We drive past a seemingly endless row of horse transporters. At first they are quite simple, but the closer we get to the arena where the show runs take place, the more extravagant the transporters become. Some even have sponsor stickers. I forgot, these horses are not just used for breeding. They are like modern gladiators. They compete against each other. These competitions are usually non-violent, but the best of them are celebrated like rock stars. We pass a huge transporter with three stallions depicted on the side. In large letters under their portrait it says: The Livingston Brothers. I remember hearing something about them once. The driver seems to know more about them.

"Yes, the Livingston boys. Magnificent guys. They've won the Logging Cup four years in a row, the first three places are between them. I can't wait to see if they can do it again this year. The competition is fierce!"

He tells me excitedly. I just nod. In the west, these competitions are not so popular. Not yet. The climate is not so suitable for them there. The driver slows down. I see a large gate in front of us. There is a big 3 on the board next to the gate. The driver stops at a checkpoint. A uniformed Arbites stands there and checks the papers of the people who want to pass through the gate. I pull out my placard and my papers. The Arbites scans the driver's papers and then comes to our window. I hold up my papers. It only takes a moment for the Arbites scanner to beep.

"Alright, please excuse the inconvenience."

Says the law enforcement officer and waves us through. We drive a little further. When we get to section 4, the driver stops. I swipe my credit card through the reader on the back of the passenger seat and get out. Mittens follows me. We take our luggage and say goodbye. The driver passes his card into my hand.

"I think you'll need a lift to the station later. Just give me a call."

I agree and look after the cab for a moment as it leaves.

"Awwwww Poooooooniiiiieees..."

Squeals Mittens and hops next to me. I turn around and see a colossus about 10 meters away from me walking into one of the boxes. He must be three and a half meters tall and seems to be all muscle. Mittens is beside herself.

"... Did you see that? I want to pet him... I want, I want, I want..."

Mittens begs and I have to laugh out loud. Mittens' outburst and my laughter do not go unnoticed and a large, cheerful man approaches us. He is wearing a checked flannel shirt, blue jeans and, of course, cowboy boots. As if he couldn't fulfill all the clichés.

"Are you the Caretaker?"

He asks with a very broad and clearly artificial southern accent.

"Yes, I am the Caretaker. You are…?"

I answer.

"... Crawford McEnfield. Very pleased to meet you. We spoke on the phone. I'm glad you're here so early. The boys are ready."

He interrupts me. I nod.

"Let's go then, show me the way."

I demand and point in the rough direction of the boxes. He grins and nods.

"I praise you for that. Don't talk too long, get straight to work."

The breeder replies and leads the way. Mittens and I follow him closely. There are a lot of people out and about, it's loud. You can pick up snatches of conversation everywhere. It's mostly about the competitions, horses, breeding premiums, ribbons...

"Please excuse me..."

I hear a deep voice behind me. I turn around and a black giant is standing in front of me, I reflexively move out of his way and he nods kindly before walking past me and taking long strides down the aisle. He doesn't even exert himself and runs at least twice as fast as the people around him. I see how they seem to hear his footsteps and automatically swerve towards the wall of the box lane. I smile. There is a lot to learn. I look next to me and see Mittens, who seems to be completely addicted to horse fever. She stands there with her mouth open and her eyes wide. I snap in front of her face and it snaps her out of a dream.

"Come on, little girl, we have to keep going."

I say quickly and keep an eye out for our client. He's standing a few meters ahead and grinning. When we finally reach him, he laughs.

"Yes, it's a bit crowded here sometimes. The arena dates back to a time when the boys were still running on four legs. It's all a bit tighter here today. But we're almost there."

He says cheerfully and points to a larger box just a few boxes further ahead. We hurried into the box in question.

The inside of the box is more spacious than expected. It stretches out quite far towards the back. The front area is teeming with people. All wearing the same checked shirt with blue jeans and, of course, cowboy boots. Corporate identity baby. They carry boxes around and unpack and repack equipment. They are all screaming. Our client makes his way through the mess, screaming just as much.

"Please excuse the mess. We only realized this morning that we brought the wrong container. Now we're looking for the replacement equipment for Zeus and Hades. We'll never have the right ones in time for the run, but the boys can't go out without their equipment."

He tries to communicate with us over the noise, but we can only nod. Fortunately, we quickly get through the worst of it and it quietens down. We walk past a partition wall and it suddenly becomes quieter. Most of the crowd stays on the other side of the partition. A little further ahead are my two orders for today. They are training. Mittens starts to vibrate on my hand. I smile.

"Uuuuuhhhh look at the poooooniiiiies..."

She mumbles and starts purring loudly to calm herself down. We follow our client, who walks straight towards the two stallions.

"Boys, your Caretaker is here."

He shouts happily and the two stallions look over at me and smile.

"This is Zeus and Hades. They are my pride and joy. There are no better stallions on the market at the moment. And I want them to show it."

He explains, his chest swelling with pride. One of the stallions makes a placating gesture.

"It's not that bad Boss."

Says the larger of the two in a deep, calm voice. Zeus. He is a giant. At least 3.3 meters tall. His body seems to be all muscle. His every slow, deliberate movement is bursting with strength. His hazel coat does not look unkempt, but could do with a little grooming, especially if he is to attract attention during the show runs. His good-natured brown eyes follow the movements of his owner, who is currently explaining to him who we are.

"I had this caretaker come especially for you and Hades. I want you both to be in top form. There are a lot of mares out there, and I want every one of them to get a slice of you."

McEnfield explains calmly and matter-of-factly. Zeus nods. Meanwhile, Hades has turned his attention to us. He's not quite as huge as Zeus. He seems more dynamic, there is much more movement in him. It's almost as if he can't stand still. His tail swishes slightly and his impressive black mane reaches halfway down his back. He is jet black and his coat has a noble sheen, but it could still do with a kick. He grins.

The breeder beckons us over.

"So Caretaker, I'll leave these two in your capable hands. Make them the gods they are named after."

He says and leaves. We are left alone with the two stallions. I smile. It's been a while since I last had a horse under my hands. I'm not particularly small, but I don't have a chance to work on their heads. I look up in awe at Zeus, who looks down at me benevolently. He offers me a hand that is far too big.

"It's an honor, Boss."

He says calmly. I take his hand, my hand practically disappearing into his. He has a firm but not unpleasant handshake. He then turns to Mittens and extends his hand to her as well.

"Ma'am."

He says, bowing his head. Mittens is beside herself. She literally caresses the hand offered to her and squeaks when he takes it. The journey was worth it for this moment alone. Hades approaches Zeus from behind. He takes his cue from him and offers me his hand.

"Pleased."

He says. His voice is lighter, quieter than Zeus', but not unpleasant. He seems much younger than Zeus. He also extends his hand after our handshake to Mittens.

"M'lady."

He says, indicating a kiss on the hand. I have to be careful that Mittens doesn't faint. I look around. There are some bales of straw on the other wall. I point to the bales.

"Gentlemen, take a seat, there's a lot to do. Is there any water around here?"

I ask. Zeus points to a large trough with a tap. I nod. I follow the two stallions to the bales. While Zeus and Hades sit down, Mittens and I spread out our tools on another bale. We put a towel underneath so that the various combs, brushes, grooms and clippers don't get lost. I go to the trough and luckily find a bucket that I can fill with water. When I come back, Mittens is already standing behind Zeus on the straw bale and picking out his mane. She is making a never-ending stream of completely irrelevant chatter while the stallion in front of her just grins broadly. I put the bucket down next to my bag and look for the shampoo I took with me.

"You've got a funny little assistant, Boss."

Zeus says good-humoredly. I look over my shoulder and agree with him.

"Yes Mittens is an asset to my life. I didn't want to be without her anymore."

I reply and pour a good dollop of shampoo into the bucket. I take the bucket, some cloths and return to the two stallions. Mittens is almost finished with his mane.

"... and then he said she was much prettier than Gabrielle. That was pretty mean..."

She continues to babble to herself as she picks out one strand of mane after another, combs it and finally braids it neatly. Meanwhile, I start to clean the stallion's head and face with a soaked cloth. He closes his eyes and lets me move his head in all directions without resistance so that I can really get everywhere. He is not dirty, but just washing the dust out of his short coat works wonders. I work quickly but thoroughly. When I've done everything, the warm brown of his coat and the white markings really shine. I throw the cloth into the bucket and go to my tools. I take a small, soft brush, a comb and a pair of scissors. Then I go back to my bag and take out the tea tree oil. It goes into my trouser pocket along with another cloth.

When I get back to Zeus and Mittens, she is in the middle of picking out the stallion's tail. She is still talking non-stop and seems to be having a great time. Zeus looks at me and shakes his head with a grin.

"Boss, where did you pick up this little bundle of energy?"

He laughs at me. His voice is like thunder, but not unpleasant. It just has a lot of volume. I nod and look at Mittens. She's sitting behind the bale of straw, smiling to herself as she picks out and combs the individual strands of hair. She has a bunch of blue ribbons and each strand is artfully wrapped before she moves on to the next strand.

"Mittens came to me three years ago. I adopted her from a high-kill shelter."

I answer Zeus and take care of his head again. He relaxes again and closes his eyes. I take the soft brush and brush his coat in the direction of growth, occasionally using the comb and scissors to work out the contours a little. He has a face full of character, but the soft lines make too much of his character disappear in the spotlight. So I give his face harder lines, working out his bone structure. I trim his chin and shorten his eyebrows a little. I make him look a little more aggressive. When I'm happy with the result, I take the oil out of the pocket and open the bottle.

"What's this?"

Zeus asks as he smells the oil. I show him the bottle.

"Tea tree oil. There's nothing better for your coat. Admittedly it smells a bit strong, but it works wonders."

He sniffs and takes a deep breath. As he exhales, he almost blows me over.

"I think it smells good. As long as it doesn't break any of the rules."

He replies, looking at me with his calm brown eyes. I think about it and finally come to the conclusion that I don't know how tea tree oil could be against the rules. I put some on the cloth and start to apply it to his coat. I am careful not to apply it too thickly. I want him to be shiny, but I don't want him to look wet. When I have finished, I take a step back and look at the result.

"Mittens, what do you think?"

I finally ask. She stands up and comes to me. She looks at Zeus' face and beams.

"Oooooh... He looks dazzling. So shiny... mmmmrrrrr..."

It just bubbles out of her. She starts purring again to calm herself down. Zeus grins and stretches out his hand to Mittens. More gently than you would expect for a giant like him, he puts his hand on her cheek and strokes her head with his thumb. I can literally see Mittens melt away. Her purring almost rolls over.

"So eager to please, so eager to be pleased."

Zeus whispers and smiles at me. I nod and approach him again.

"Come Mittens, there's still a lot to do."

I say encouragingly and Mittens nods into Zeus' hand, clearly struggling to tear herself away from the stallion's caress. I pick up the cloth with the shampoo again and start to wash the stallion's neck. I decide to change the water after the neck, the broth could probably be sold to students as coffee. I throw the cloth back into the bucket and start again, first brushing the coat in the direction of growth and then trying to give his imposing muscles more contour. Meanwhile, Mittens is busy with his tail again. I manage to achieve a fairly satisfactory result. I pick up the tea tree oil again and this time I don't use it everywhere, but instead place specific accents to draw the eye to where I want it to be. I am extremely satisfied.

"Tell me Zeus, just how do these show runs work?"

I ask him as I fetch myself some new water and add another good dash of shampoo. Zeus smiles.

"Well. In show runs, they present the individual stallions to the jury. They have to show their best side. The judges assess stature, musculature, movement, growth and the stallion's general state of health. We run in the large arena. Various gaits are tested..."

I nod and start with his arm while he continues.

"... anyone who can impress here has a good chance of being selected for breeding. Many breeders put a lot of emphasis on looks, less on performance in competitions. Nowadays, horses are no longer used in agriculture and forestry. The competitions are relics from the old days. They have been modified and are still held today to see who has the best horse..."

Zeus explains everything in a calm voice and clearly enjoys the fact that someone is listening to him. Mittens wraps the last strand of hair. I take my brush and start brushing his coat again. It's a little more difficult on his arms. Not only is his musculature much more noticeable here from the outset, but the longer coat on his forearms requires much more grooming, but must not be shortened as it is part of the breed's appearance. So I spend more time getting his arm in shape. Mittens comes to me. She has her comb and another pair of scissors with her.

"Master, go to the other arm, let me finish this."

She suggests. I nod. She has more patience for this work than I do. I wash his second arm and turn back to Zeus.

"These competitions, what are they about?"

I ask, concentrating on my task. Zeus watches with interest as Mittens lovingly tends to his coat.

"There are different competitions. Depending on which breed it is. Hades and I compete in the agricultural competitions. These competitions mainly require strength and stamina. We pull heavy weights and carriages. This requires a certain amount of weight and strength. You've probably seen the Livingston brothers' van. They compete in the logging competitions. Forestry. They cut down trees and pull the logs through obstacle courses. This requires skill and talent. And then there are the competitions for all the smaller breeds. They usually focus on speed and light-footedness. Running, jumping, dancing. There have also been representatives of our breeds in the jumping and dancing competitions, but that is rather rare. We are too heavy, too sluggish for that. Our strengths lie elsewhere."

Zeus explains and strokes Mittens under the chin after she has finished combing out his fur. I smile and try to imagine a colossus like Zeus dancing. I leave the field to Mittens again and go back to the first arm to oil at least part of it. Again, I only set accents and don't just rub the whole arm.

I try to draw the viewer's eye to the essentials without being too obvious.

Mittens is still busy. I take the cloth from the bucket and start washing the stallion's back. When I've finished, I'm sure I'll need more water for the rest.

"You look like a mountain range back here..."

I say, stroking the individual strands of muscle. Zeus grins. He moves his shoulders slightly and his muscles tense. His shoulder girdle seems to widen and completely new valleys and hills develop on his back.

"Prankster."

I say back and have to laugh. He relaxes again and I can start brushing his coat. Meanwhile, Mittens puts her comb to one side and takes one of the files from our range of tools. She starts to work on Zeus' nails. She smiles and giggles every time Zeus gives her a different finger to the one she is expecting. I pick up the comb and the scissors and start cutting highlights into the stallion's coat. When I've finished, it's also the back's turn to be oiled. It's not easy to find the right amount for the individual muscles and areas. But in the end I find a balance that I'm quite happy with.

When I get to the front, Mittens has just finished giving Zeus a manicure.

"So-should I get started on Hades?"

She asks shyly and looks over at the black stallion, who is training with an oversized barbell. I smile and stroke her head.

"If he wants to, you're welcome to start. But be nice to him."

I say in a fatherly tone of voice. She squeaks and runs over to Hades, who can already see her coming with a grin. She stands in front of him, her hands crossed behind her back.

"You do know she can't really hurt him, right Boss?"

Zeus asks me with a grin. I nod.

"Yeah, I know. He could probably pick her up with one finger and just hang her from the ceiling. But sometimes she's just a little impetuous in her manner and steps on other people's toes."

I reply as Zeus looks down at his hooves and grins.

"Well, she can't do much damage."

He replies and laughs out loud. I look at his hooves and grin too. Indeed, she can't step on them. I gesture to him to lift his head slightly so that I can wash his chest. He complies with my request and lifts his head. At the same time, however, he doesn't miss the opportunity to pull his shoulders back and make his chest muscles look even more impressive. I shake my head slightly.

"Show-off."

I whisper and can literally feel his grin. He knows exactly what he has and how to show it off.

"How long have you been doing all this?"

I ask, washing his mighty chest.

"I'm 20 years old now. I've been on the boss's farm since I was born. I've been trained for this from an early age. I've been running actively for 13 years."

I throw the rag back into the bucket and pick up my brush. I look over at Hades and Mittens. She is busy brushing out Hades' mane. With his long, curly hair, this is going to take a while. I concentrate on getting Zeus' chest in shape.

"And are you successful at what you do?"

I ask. Zeus snorts.

"Oh yes. I've won several prizes and fathered I don't know how many offspring."

He says cheerfully. I'm quite astonished.

"Really? Do the owners at least still let you do it yourself, or are you like the professional breeders who only use artificial insemination?"

I ask and Zeus snorts again. I can't help but notice a certain contempt in his snort.

"No. I would never agree to artificial insemination and fortunately my Boss is on the same wavelength as me. He always says that if his stallion, me, has earned the right to inseminate this mare, then he should be allowed to do it himself. I have sired all my offspring myself and, without drifting too far into self-praise, so far all my partners have been satisfied with my performance."

Zeus replies loud enough for Hades to hear.

"Hey, it was the first time, damn it. I was nervous. It wasn't as if she wasn't pregnant at the end."

Hades shouts over and seems slightly agitated. I have to grin over his comment, but I'm pleased with the result I've achieved. His chest looks like it's carved from stone. My gaze wanders lower. I feel warm. I decide that I need new water first. I return to Zeus with a fresh bucket. I'm not sure how far I should or even can go.

"Are you going to run sheathed or unsheathed?"

I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and matter-of-fact. Zeus tilts his head a little. He looks down at himself and stops at his privates. He grins.

"Well... Of course, we don't normally go around showing off our gifts to the world. At least not these..."

He laughs jokingly and lets his member slide smoothly out of his sheath. It is, as you would expect, enormous. My eyes widen a little. And then there's a thud next to me.

"Oow ow ow ow ow ow ow..."

Zeus and I turn to Hades and see Mittens lying on the ground between Hades and Zeus. She's rubbing an elbow. Hades shakes his head.

"I am innocent. I just felt her weight shift and then she fell..."

He explains and stands up. He carefully helps Mittens to her feet again. I look at Mittens and can clearly see how she would like to sink into the ground. Zeus just laughs.

"Is everything alright? Did you hurt yourself?"

Hades asks, carefully knocking the dust off Mittens' overalls. I know only too well why Mittens fell, and she knows that I know. I nod silently and she lowers her gaze.

"Thank you Hades. Yes, everything is OK. I just bumped my elbow."

She says quietly and rubs her elbow. She turns to Hades who kneels in front of her to be at eye level with her.

"Show me your elbow."

He says softly and waits until Mittens has lifted her elbow for him. He takes the arm gently in his huge hands and looks at the damaged area. He kisses the spot tenderly and strokes her cheek.

"Everything will be fine again soon."

He says calmly and smiles. Mittens is completely overwhelmed and stands motionless for a moment while Hades gets up again and sits back down on his bale of straw. I nod my thanks to him and turn back to Zeus. He has retracted his device in the meantime. I smile slightly and indicate that he should please stand up. He complies with my request. I find myself face to face with a giant.

"How can you be so big?"

I ask myself rather than actually addressing anyone else. Zeus looks down at me and grins. I take the cloth and start washing his stomach, loins and legs.

Mittens stands behind Hades again and continues to tend to his mane.

"Please excuse me, I'm so embarrassed."

She whispers. Hades grins, his ears turning towards her.

"No problem, but what happened anyway?"

He asks quietly. He can feel Mittens making herself small behind him. She radiates an incredible warmth.

"I've never seen one this big..."

She replies and buries her head in Hades' mane. The stallion smiles. He can fully understand that she is embarrassed. He reaches back and strokes her legs.

"And then you stretched over so far that you fell?"

He does his best to suppress his laughter and sound serious. Mittens nods silently at his back. Hades' smile widens and he strokes her some more.

"Want to see another one without having to contort yourself? Mine is much nicer than Zeus' anyway."

The stallion whispers and waits for little Feline's reaction behind his back. Mittens lifts her head out of his mane.

"Really?"

She whispers and looks over Hades' shoulder. What she discovers between his legs is longer and thicker than her forearm. She leans against Hades' shoulder and looks at the stallion's manhood.

"It's sooo big..."

She gasps. A thousand thoughts race through her head, and none of them are suitable for children. Hades turns his head slightly, his smile mischievous.

"Do you want to touch it?"

He asks playfully, using his muscle control to make his best piece bounce. He can hear Mittens swallow and her claws dig lightly into his shoulder. Her desire is unmistakable. He raises his arm to her head and strokes her lightly.

"Well go ahead already... I know you want to, and I don't mind."

He whispers encouragingly.

I can just hear Mittens jumping off the bale and think that she has finished with the mane and is now devoting herself to the stallion's tail. Meanwhile, I am busy brushing Zeus' coat without getting too close to any sensitive areas. As the direction of growth changes several times in this area. I pull out the scissors. Zeus looks at Hades and grins, but doesn't want to spoil his fun and looks down at me.

"Be careful with that Boss. Most of the stuff down there doesn't react too well to scissor cuts."

He can't quite keep the giggles out of his comment. I look up at him briefly and snip my scissors twice in the air, grinning diabolically. My grin is returned. I start to work out his contours further. It's not easy because the muscles on his legs are so pronounced that it's like a constant alternating game of mountains and valleys and because the muscles shift under the skin as he walks, I can't accentuate too much or it will look strange. I don't notice at first that Zeus is focusing more and more on Hades and Mittens.

Mittens kneels in front of Hades. Her whole body is trembling with excitement. She carefully raises her hands to Hades' privates. The stallion leans back and relaxes. Her hands tremble as she touches him for the first time. He is warm, not to say hot, he is not exactly hard, not yet. Mittens swallows and gasps softly. She looks up at Hades and he smiles at her. He raises his eyebrows and nods slightly. Mittens' eyes widen a little as she looks again at the large black hose she is holding in her hands. It's heavy and getting heavier.

"Oh my God... will it get even bigger?"

She asks almost tonelessly. Hades grins and repositions his pelvis slightly. Meanwhile, the member in Mitten's hands gets harder. She stares open-mouthed at the monster. She shudders. Slowly, her tongue slips out of her mouth as she sees the drop forming at the tip of his member. Imperceptibly, she moves her mouth closer to the tip of Hades' privates. Hades looks down at her. He can see her fangs and her rough tongue. For a moment, something like doubt or fear arises in him. Her mouth is far too small to even remotely receive him. Her trembling hands caress his shaft tenderly. They are infinitely soft, but every now and then she lets her claws touch his skin a little. The allure of this "danger" drives him to new heights. Hades' breathing deepens slightly, his legs open a little and give way to his jewels. Mittens is in a trance. She is unable to take her eyes off the throbbing phallus in front of her face.

"Haahhh... nyaaa..."

She mews softly and shudders at the thought of the possibilities that such a toy can offer. Instinctively, she slides a hand along the shaft to Hades' testicles. The tip of her tongue stretches towards his tip. She manages to lick the drop from the tip. They both shudder.

Zeus snorts. I look up from his knees and see him looking over at Hades and Mittens. My gaze follows his and inevitably falls on Mittens, who is apparently trying to give head to a black stallion over three meters tall. I take a deep breath. Basically, I don't mind if she wants to have fun with Hades or, in case of doubt, Zeus. Who am I to forbid her... yes of course, I'm her owner and I can forbid her whatever I want, but I wouldn't as long as the two boys are okay with it and Mittens doesn't come to any harm... I think of Zeus' size and I can work out that Hades shouldn't be much smaller. I doubt that Mittens would come out of this unscathed. I clear my throat loudly. And see Mittens wince.

"Get a room, you two."

Zeus shouts jokingly before I can say anything. Hades looks over at us, slightly annoyed. Like a child whose toy has been taken away. I straighten up and turn to the two of them.

"Mittens..."

I say quietly and I can see her slump down.

"... come here..."

My voice is full of affection as I spread my arms. She rises slowly. I can see that she has bumped more than just her elbow, her movements are not as elegant as they should be. She comes slowly to me with her head bowed. I can't see Zeus' devastating look, which almost makes Hades sink into the ground. Mittens stops a step in front of me.

"It's alright. Come here."

I say again. She comes and lets me hug her. I hold her tight and press her lovingly against me.

"I'm not angry with you, girl, you know that, but we have work to do here and the boys have to be in top form when they run afterwards. You're welcome to have fun together afterwards."

I say softly and kiss her on the head. I stroke her and can feel her nodding.

"Good, I love you."

I whisper and give her one last hug before letting her go again. She steps back and looks at me with drooping ears.

"I let you down..."

She says submissively. I put my hand on her cheek and stroke it.

"No, you didn't. I know you well enough by now and I like you the way you are. You haven't let me down, and if there wasn't so much at stake, I wouldn't have interrupted you."

She looks me in the eye and her ears slowly perk up. I smile.

"Really?"

She asks again. I nod. A smile slowly creeps onto her face.

"Good, now back to work."

I finally say and let her go back to Hades. I look up at Zeus and grin.

"The youth..."

I say jokingly, but Zeus doesn't seem to be in quite such a joking mood. I don't know exactly what it's about, but it's none of my business. I get back on my knees and take care of his legs.

Next to us, Mittens climbs back onto the straw bale behind Hades.

"Hey, sorry about that. I didn't mean to get you into trouble.

Hades says quietly and offers her a hand. Mittens takes his hand in hers and kisses it gently.

"You didn't. But I let myself be tempted, which I shouldn't have done. At least not now. My master is right. I have work to do. First the work..."

She strokes his mane...

"... then the pleasure..."

She kisses his finger and licks over its tip. Hades snorts softly and grins.

"Good... then I'm reassured. I'd hate myself if something happened to you just because I couldn't control myself. Again."

He adds, giving Mittens' chin another quick scratch before sitting up straight again. Mittens grins and continues with the stallion's mane.

The rest of the grooming goes without further incident.

I get Zeus ready, polish his hooves and then take care of Hades. Mittens takes care of Hades' mane and tail. He seems a little sad since the incident earlier. But we don't have much time to dwell on it. When we are at his legs, McEnfield joins us.

"Gentlemen, the lady. It's about time. The runs start in half an hour."

His gaze falls on Zeus. He stands like a statue at the back of the box and watches the action with a stoic expression.

"Oh my God, boy... Zeus... you look fantastic... you're amazing. It's a shame we don't have the right harnesses... Are you ready yet?"

McEnfield's voice almost cracks. Zeus nods.

"Yes, Boss. I'm already done."

The big stallion replies. His owner beams.

"Good boy, come along then, we need to make sure we fit your harness."

Zeus nods silently and follows McEnfield forward. We can't help but hear the jumble coming from the front. It's good to hear that our work is being well received. I look up at Hades.

"Speak up, what happened between Zeus and you earlier?"

I speak straight and without beating around the bush. Hades looks at me in bewilderment. I lean back a little so that I can look up at him better. Hades smiles wryly.

"Where do I start... Zeus is the old master. He's more experienced than me, bigger than me, heavier than me. He's never made a mistake, he's never had anything go wrong. He's a role model we all look up to. So much for the good things. But at the same time, it also puts a lot of pressure on us, especially for those of us who come from the same stable as the champion. His yardstick is set for us and if we don't manage to meet his standards, at least in principle, it means that we have failed. That he has failed, because he should have taught us."

Hades explains calmly. He looks at his hands before continuing.

"Well, I'm still young. I've only taken part in the runs twice. And I really messed up after the first run. I've learned from that. Painfully..."

He says. I look to the front at the others.

"I didn't think McEnfield would be like that. He didn't seem like that at all..."

I reply, but Hades shakes his head.

"No, not the Boss... Zeus."

Now I look at him, truly shocked. Hades' smile disappears.

"Yes. Zeus can get pretty pissed off when he thinks something might damage his reputation. I messed up my first mating. I was young, cocky, wild... I hurt the mare. It was nothing serious. She wasn't angry with me. But it just didn't work. We tried again later and it worked. But Zeus was furious. He really wrecked me back then and almost ended my career. I've been a lot more careful since then. That earlier was just a reminder of whose stable I run for and whose reputation is at stake. He would never lay a hand on any of us before a run. But after the run, after the mating jumps... that's when it all looks very different."

He remains surprisingly calm. I imagine what Zeus can do with his strength. He's a behemoth, a giant. I hadn't expected him to be like this. He seems so calm, at peace with himself. But well, as the saying goes: "Still waters run deep." Who knows what else is bubbling under the surface.

We also finish grooming Hades and accompany him to the front. Zeus is already standing there in his outfit. The leather straps only emphasize his musculature and when he moves, the leather creaks under the strain. He looks martial. The helpers stream in and lead Hades away to put his harness on.

Later, we stand in a loge with McEnfield and see the arena below us. A march is playing in the background and the crowd is cheering. Zeus enters the arena and the crowd goes wild. He strides through the sand of the arena and lets himself be celebrated briefly. He has his arms raised and looks stoically into the crowd.

"This has been his thing from the start."

His owner explains, pointing to Zeus.

"He plays the unapproachable one, the rock in the surf. But nothing could be further from the truth."

He says calmly and watches his protégé at work. I look at him questioningly.

"Zeus is terribly insecure. He has a great fear of failure. His early success has placed a terrible burden on him. He is unable to relax. He has never made a mistake, not a single one. What was a blessing in the beginning later turned out to be the biggest hurdle. Today he can no longer fail and the competition is fierce. Hades will eventually overtake him. Secretly, Zeus hopes every year that Hades will finally beat him, but on the other hand, he is so determined that he wants Hades to give his all, but Hades is actually content to be under Zeus. Less pressure."

McEnfield explains and takes a sip from a flask. I nod. I can understand how both stallions feel. Downstairs, Zeus finishes his run. The scores are good. He strikes a few more poses, showing off his body and muscles. Before he bows deeply to his audience. He leaves the arena with his head held high.

The crowd cheers. The music changes style. A snappy beat blares across the arena and the crowd heats up. The spotlight shines on the entrance on the opposite side of the arena. Hades is almost invisible in the shadows, only his glowing red harness can be seen. He appears to jump and then sprints into the arena. He performs several high and long jumps before coming to a halt in the middle of the arena and the crowd goes wild.

"Yes, Hades is something completely different. He oozes youth. His act is the hot lover. The mysterious pretty boy. And he's really got that down. He's so incredibly talented and he's such a good boy. If he had a little more patience and practiced a little more restraint, he would have outstripped Zeus three years ago."

Says the breeder and watches his protégé perform.

"But he didn't..."

I turn around and see Zeus standing at the entrance to the box. He has a towel in his hand and is drying his sweat. He smiles.

"... Hades still has a lot to learn. But I have to hand it to him, he's getting better every year."

Zeus says, looking out of the viewing window before turning to me.

"I wanted to thank you again, Boss. You've done an excellent job and, if the Boss agrees, I'd be delighted to welcome you back next time."

I smile and agree. He looks over at Mittens.

"So girl. I hear you'd like to play with Horsie?"

...

Name: Mittens

Race: Felis Erectus II

Task: Grooming

It is late in the evening when we return from our trip to the eastern district of the Archology. Both Mittens and I are quite tired as we get out of the taxi that took us from the train station to my shop.

The day was a complete success. Zeus and Hades took the top spots in their classes, and their owner, Mr. McEnfield, insisted that this success was largely due to our work. In addition to the already generous payment, he gave us a substantial tip and booked us for the next event right away. Mittens was beside herself with joy, and I couldn't argue with that, not least because of the generous remuneration.

But in the end, it had been a long day, and Mittens couldn't keep her eyes open on the way home. She had curled up on the seat next to me and laid her head on my lap. I let her sleep; it had been exhausting for her, more so than for me. I hadn't spent hours “playing” with the two stallions after the work was done.

Finally, now that we are standing in front of my shop, I am also struggling with my fatigue. I watch the taxi as it quickly drives away from us and then head for the door that leads to my shop and thus also to my apartment. I approach the lock and open it with my transponder. The lock clicks and I push the door open. The doorbell rings, announcing a new customer, and I have to smile. As I enter the shop, I look around to see if everything is okay.

“Hello? Hellooo? Is anyone here? What a dump!”

I complain jokingly, and Mittens giggles quietly beside me. I gently pat her head and smile.

“Go on up. I'll bring the bag in and then I'll follow.”

I whisper softly and Mittens nods. She slowly climbs the stairs, her steps sounding heavier than her petite frame would suggest. I watch her for a moment before heading to my work area. I don't turn on the light in the corridor. I know my shop well enough to move around safely with my eyes closed. Tired and shuffling, I walk into my first workroom and place the bag on one of the trolleys. I briefly consider emptying it tomorrow, but decide to empty it now and save myself a little work tomorrow. I unzip the bag and push the two flaps apart.

The intense smell of stables and horses hits me and I can't help but grin. With a knowing nod, I take the towels and rags out of the bag and carry them to the laundry basket. Although calling it a laundry basket is an understatement for this little marvel of technology, which collects my dirty laundry, sends it to the central laundry, and ensures that it is delivered back to my shop the next day, fresh, clean, ironed, and folded.

I drop all the laundry into the large opening and press the big red button that starts the mechanism. The opening closes silently and I return to my bag. Little by little, I take the tools out of the bag and place them on the trolley. Only when the bag is completely empty do I take it and place it on the floor next to one of the cupboards. I will refill it with the essentials tomorrow so that it is ready for the next use. Only then will it be returned to its place in the cabinet.

I look at the tools and sort them according to their different uses and how I can clean them. The clippers go on one tray, while the scissors and combs go on another. I take the tray with the scissors and combs to an ultrasonic cleaner. This device works wonders for cleaning these tools. I fill it with a cleaning and disinfecting solution before submerging the entire tray in the device. I turn it on and go back to the door.

“I'll do the rest tomorrow...”

I say to myself and close the door behind me. I drag myself back to the front and see the stairs leading up to my modest quarters. Rarely has the temptation to simply lie down across the bench in the waiting area of my shop and spend the night there been greater. I shake my head, grab the handrail, and begin the long climb to the first floor.

I laugh to myself. There are only sixteen steps, but each one feels like climbing the highest peak.

“Well, basically, that's how it is. This level of Archology is about five thousand meters above sea level...”

I mutter to myself, as if this is an excuse for being exhausted.

I reach my chambers and go into my small bathroom. I decide to take a quick wash, covering only the essentials. Maybe I can persuade Mittens to join me for a shower tomorrow. I stuff my clothes into the equivalent of a laundry basket in my shop and see Mittens' overalls already lying in it. I smile gently and press the button.

After washing myself as best I can, I go into my bedroom. I find a small, slowly rising mound in the middle of my bed. Mittens has already curled up under the covers and is asleep, as I can tell from her calm, shallow breathing. Carefully and quietly, I approach the bed and sit down on the edge. I hate having to wake her up, but the way she's lying in bed, I won't find any room to lie down myself.

Smiling, I gently place my hand on her body, which is curled up under the blanket. I can feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest and, shortly afterwards, the soft purring that she emits almost reflexively in response to my touch. I wait a little while and enjoy the small movements beneath the blanket. It doesn't take long before I get the desired reaction.

“Mmmmmmrrrr...”

It's a mixture of grumbling, purring, and growling that Mittens quietly emits as she slowly stretches again. The blanket lifts a little and I can see her dreamy eyes as she looks up at me with a mixture of tiredness, joy, and annoyance. I can totally understand her; I'm more than just tired too. Slowly, she makes a little more room on the bed, and in return, I am obliged to cuddle with her as soon as I join her.

A price I am only too happy to pay.

I slip under the covers and wait for my little assistant to snuggle up to me. It only takes a moment before I feel her velvety soft hands on my skin, pulling herself up against me and finally settling into my arms. I tenderly wrap my arms around her petite body and gently pull her close to me.

It only takes a few moments before her purring and my tiredness overwhelm me. My heavy eyelids close and I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

In fact, it is Mittens who wakes me up the next morning. I feel her claws gently running through my chest hair and can hear her whispering softly to herself.

“...the Master promised me that today would be my turn. It’s been far too long since Mittens’ fur has been properly groomed...”

She’s right. I promised her that I would give her a complete grooming today. It’s really overdue, but sometimes things don’t go quite as planned.

I keep my eyes closed and gently stroke her back before answering her.

“Yes, I promised you, and a promise...”

I begin, and I can feel her tense up briefly, only to immediately snuggle a little closer to me. “...cannot be broken.”

She finishes my sentence before pressing her nose under my chin and beginning to purr louder. I continue to stroke her back a little more and enjoy the intimacy of this moment. She presses her back against my hand and I can feel the muscles under her fur playing their little game, and the deeper my hand reaches, the more I feel her muscles tensing against my hand. Mittens is just a big cuddly cat after all, and she can't help herself.

“How about a nice, long, hot shower?”

I ask the purring ball of fur whose hands are kneading dough on my chest. Mittens responds by pushing her head more firmly under my chin and purring louder. Her claws gently prick the skin of my chest, and I can feel her sharp teeth on my neck.

“Rrrmmm... a shower with my Master sounds tempting...”

She purrs and nibbles gently on my chin to show me how much she loves me. I smile and let my hand wander down to her butt and begin to knead it lightly.

“Hmmm... Mittens likes that... hnnnn... very much...”

I can't help but grin as Mittens almost climbs on top of me. I let her have her fun for a moment longer; after all, it's not as if I don't enjoy my girl mounting me. Her velvety soft hand slowly slides down my front and makes its way across my stomach to my manhood, which is just waiting for her touch.

“Hmmm... Master... mrrrrr... Mittens wants to play...”

Her purring is contagious and her efforts to encourage me become more intense with every passing minute. My hand wanders deeper around her butt while my middle finger slides along her crack. She literally pushes her butt into my hand and her tail wraps around my arm. My finger finds its target and slowly circles her small, tight pucker.

“Nyaaaa... Master... hnnn...”

Her little voice is like balm for my soul, and at the same time, there is hardly anything that could be more arousing for me.

But I have to hold back, because we have a lot to do, and as much as I want to give myself to her right now, as much as I want to enjoy her sweet moans and her incredibly provocative body, I know that now is not the time. I hate myself for it, because she has just wrapped her delicate fingers around my manhood as I gently pat her bottom.

“Hmmm... You know how much I love it when you do that, but we have a lot of work to do...”

I whisper in her ear and am punished with a look full of longing and desire.

“... but...”

is her meek reply, her lip trembling slightly. She hesitates only for a moment before opening her hand again and slowly moving it up to my chest. With a sigh, she pushes herself up and kneels beside me so I can sit up. I see the disappointment on her face, but at the same time I know she's excited about what's in store for her; she just would have liked to start the day a little differently. To be honest, I'm a little surprised that she still wants to play after having so much fun with Zeus and Hades, but I guess the two of them were a little too much for her in the end.

I smile and sit up, swing my legs out of bed, and put my arm around my little assistant. Before she can react, I gently pull her onto my lap and press her to my chest. She snuggles up to me and closes her eyes. It's obvious that she enjoys the contact with me. Carefully, I slide my other arm under her legs and stand up gently, holding her securely against my chest. Mittens wraps her arms around my neck and sinks relaxed into my arms. It's not the first time I've carried her like this, and she enjoys lying in her master's arms.

I slowly make my way through my bedroom and into my hallway. I hum quietly to myself as I carry her over to my bathroom.

“Hmmm, first we'll clean you up, and then you'll get your reward,”

I whisper as I enter the bathroom and slowly carry her to the shower. Mittens giggles softly and snuggles up to me.

“Mittens will be good and earn her reward...”

She replies, dangling her legs relaxed as I enter the spacious shower. I try to carefully set my little assistant down, but she clings to me.

“Nnyaa... the floor is too cold for Mittens' little feet.”

She complains and pulls herself up by my neck so she can look me in the eyes.

“The Master must hold Mittens in his arms.”

She adds, and I can't help but smile and gently stroke her head.

“Awww... is the floor that cold?”

I ask in a feigned concerned tone, and Mittens nods eagerly.

“Then I'll have to keep holding you in my arms, won't I?”

My facade crumbles and Mittens nods eagerly again, a broad smile already spreading across her lips.

“But I can't hold you like this, I can't turn on the tap...”

I don't get any further before Mittens nimbly changes her position on my arm and wraps her dainty legs around my waist. I feel the heat emanating from her core and her claws digging into my back as she looks eagerly into my eyes. I take a breath to make a suggestive comment, but before I can utter a sound, she seals my lips with hers and kisses me deeply.

Surprised, I give in to her advance, wrap my arms around her slender body, and return the kiss just as intensely.

I love that she takes the initiative, even if, God knows, not all the inhabitants of Archology share this view. We fight for victory for a beautiful, long, intense moment, and just before Mittens can claim victory in our mouths with her long, flexible tongue, she pulls back and looks at me, breathing heavily. She licks her sensual lips lasciviously, and I have to hold myself back hard not to break my self-imposed rule.

“Nya... Mittens wants to play with Master, but Mittens promised to be good so Mittens can get her reward.”

She gasps, and I can see how hard she has to hold back to keep from going too far, but she manages it, and that makes me very proud. For my part, I'm happy that she's no longer tempting me, otherwise I would be the one breaking the rule. I gently stroke her head and back and enjoy the absolute trust she places in me.

“You did well, Mittens.”

I whisper and see her eyes light up at the praise. Carefully, I reach for the faucet and turn on the shower. The warm water cascades over our bodies, washing away the sweat and dirt of yesterday. It's an extremely pleasant feeling.

My shower is one of the few real luxuries I have afforded myself over the years, because even though I am an integral part of the infrastructure of this society, I have to pay for all my expenses myself, and everything here costs an enormous amount of money. I saved up for this luxury shower, and I enjoy every single shower I take under this spout.

The water is perfectly tempered and the water pressure is also perfectly regulated to achieve even saturation in the shortest possible time.

I look down at Mittens, who has leaned away from my chest a little and whose supple, velvety black fur now clings even more closely to her slender figure. Her gentle curves and small breasts magically draw my eyes, and I devour her with my gaze as she tilts her head back and offers me her vulnerable throat.

It wouldn't be the first time I've bitten her neck, and I know she loves it; it brings out her wild, untamed side, which I love so much about her. I feel my member throbbing, and I know she feels it too, but she doesn't let it show as she runs the water over her body with her velvety soft hands, bending lasciviously.

Only when she slowly straightens up again and sees it in my eyes does she notice how hungry I really am. The mischievous grin on her lips says more than a thousand words could ever express.

“Oh Master, how naughty...”

She scolds me with amused, feigned indignation and slowly waves her index finger in front of my face.

“Just look, don't touch...”

She adds, and it takes less than five seconds for us both to burst out laughing. It doesn't last long, because Mittens leans forward and demands another kiss from her master, and I am only too happy to comply.

The second kiss is more controlled than the first, but no less intense, because Mittens doesn't wait for me to consent to her declaration of love, but once again takes the initiative and kisses me deeply. Yet again, our tongues battle for dominance, and this time Mittens has to admit defeat, because I knead her butt with my strong hands, forcing her to pull back so she can moan in pain.

“Hnnnyaaaa... Master... hnnnn... naughty...”

She complains, but her feigned indignation is easy to see through, as she is already biting her lip and looking at me playfully.

“Mmmhmmm, it's so inviting, I couldn't resist.”

I admit honestly, and Mittens' emerald-green eyes bore into mine.

“Nyaa...”

She gasps softly, and I can feel the vibration of her purring, even though I can't hear it because of the sound of the water. I smile.

“We should wash your fur so we can continue with your grooming. We have a lot to do, and I want you to look absolutely stunning.”

I say, massaging her buttocks a little more while she nods. She knows that even though she really enjoys grooming, the faster we finish, the faster she'll get her reward; and this time, she'll claim it, come what may. She finally loosens her legs carefully and allows me to put her down. She looks up at me with that expectant look that says: What are you waiting for, get on with it. I nod.

I take the hand shower and turn on the water. It's easier to thoroughly soak her fur again when I use the hand shower. It only takes a moment, and she even enjoys it. I turn off the water and help her brush the excess water out of her fur. It's the perfect opportunity to give her a few more strokes before I take the large bottle of her favorite shampoo and pump a generous handful of the rich cleansing lotion into my palm.

Now that the sound of the water has given way to a much quieter drip, I can hear her relaxed purring and the sparkle in her eyes grows even brighter.

“Turn around...”

I command in a whisper, and Mittens complies without hesitation. In the rehearsed choreography of the routine we have followed since the first day I rescued her from the high-kill shelter, she knows every step, every movement, and every phase.

She has internalized them, and the strict rules and procedures give her security, because the sequence is always the same, allowing her to estimate how long it will be before she finally gets her reward.

I look down benevolently at my little assistant and spread the shampoo on my hands. It is an unwritten rule that we lather the head last, so I place my hands gently on her shoulders and begin to work the first portion of soap carefully but thoroughly into her fur. I can feel her pressing her shoulders against my hands, enjoying the contact with her master. Her purring grows louder, accompanying the squelching sound my hands make as they lather her fur. Even now, her fur feels straw-like and dull. We have really waited far too long to groom her, and I make a mental note not to put it off for so long in future.

I slowly work my way down from her shoulders to her back and enjoy how she presses herself against my every touch to intensify it. Since Mittens is not a customer in the true sense of the word, I don't have to hold back and pretend to be a serious caretaker, but can have fun while doing it.

So I bring my hands around her sides to the front and tickle my little assistant's stomach, enjoying the little noises she makes and how much she contorts herself to escape my fingers, even though she actually wants more.

When I reach her waist, I need a refill because I've run out of shampoo. As I take another handful of the precious hair wash, Mittens' wet tail whips excitedly against my legs. She is impatient. A trait she shares with most other felines, but she also knows that the more impatient she gets, the more time I take. I don't keep her waiting any longer than is absolutely necessary to distribute the shampoo properly on my hands.

"You know there's a better way to do that whipping..."

I tease my little assistant, just before I put my hands back on her waist.

"Nyaaa... Mittens is so excited..."

Is her honest answer, and I can feel her tensing her muscles under my hands. It only lasts a moment, then she relaxes again and enjoys the way I lather the fur around her midriff. Her breathing deepens and I can see her pressing her claws into her knees to maintain her posture. She's quite ticklish in that area, I know that, and I try not to overstimulate her. I manage to do so reasonably well as I move my hands further down and try to catch her tail.

Even when dry, this appendage is difficult to tame, but now that her fur is soaked and my hands are completely covered in soap suds, it's almost impossible. Whenever I manage to grab it, she instinctively jerks to the other side and it just slips through my fingers, painting a funny pattern of foam on me and the wall of the shower cubicle. Mittens can't quite suppress a giggle at my efforts, and I have to smile too.

“Hihihihi... you little rascal, now do stay still...”

I say jokingly and give her a playful little slap on the bottom. Mittens gasps briefly and looks over her shoulder with a grin.

“But Master... Mittens can't help it... Hnnn... besides, the Master said the reward would only come after the work was done...”

There is a clear excitement in her voice, which I can understand, but she still manages to keep her tail still long enough for me to lather it properly. I haven't quite let go of it yet, and it's already darting from side to side again, whipping another pattern of foam onto my stomach. I shake my head slowly and crouch down behind Mittens so I can lather her legs properly with shampoo.

“How nice that this shampoo comes in canisters...”

I whisper as I get another load and spread it on my hands. She hums in agreement and spreads her legs a little wider. With a grin, I bring my hands forward and place them on her small, firm buttocks.

“Hmmmm... Mittens likes that...”

She admits what I've known for a long time. I continue, gently massaging her butt and carefully spreading the soap before working my way down and tackling her legs. Her firm, well-trained muscles play under my hands as I make sure her legs are completely covered in soap.

I reach her ankles and smile.

“Please turn around...”

I say in the monotone voice of a navigation system and get a giggle before Mittens turns around elegantly and covers her breasts and shame with feigned shyness.

“But don't look... Mittens is so ashamed...”

She says playfully and looks down at me with a broad smile while I look up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Don't look?”

I ask, and she nods, barely able to hold back a smile. I raise my foam-covered hands and make grabbing motions.

“Then I'll have to touch you...”

I say and move my hands toward her midsection. Mittens bites her lip and takes a deep breath.

“Mmmmhmmm... but only if Master closes his eyes...”

She replies, and her tail whips a new pattern on the wall behind her. The excitement is palpable, and I nod. I close my eyes after spreading another dollop of shampoo on my hands.

I can hear her moving, and I can hear her rapid, excited breathing. Of course, it's not the first time I've washed her, but the intimacy of the situation is always something special for Mittens. She knows very well that our relationship in Archology is not necessarily the norm and that she is very, very lucky to have an owner like me. A master who takes care of her as best he can, who responds to her, gives her what she needs, but also shows her her limits. A master... who loves her just the way she is.

So this time, the master can't see anything, but has to feel his way blindly to find where he is. I like to engage in these little games because they are fun and bring us closer together. Besides, who am I not to enjoy feeling my way along my lovely assistant's body?

My hands find their target somewhere on her thighs. With a smile, I feel her muscles tense under my hands and slowly move my hands up her thighs.

“Hnnnnn... Master...”

Mittens gasps as my thumbs come dangerously close to her crotch. I hesitate for a moment, but then decide to let her have her fun. She has been behaving really well lately, and I have already forgiven her for yesterday's little slip-up anyway. I adjust the position of my hands slightly and my thumbs “by sheer accident” slip between her thighs and stroke along the outside of her outer labia. I am rewarded with loud gasps and intense purring, which prompts me to gently stroke my thumbs up and down a couple more times. Mittens trembles slightly and her gasps grow louder.

“M-Master... nnnn...”

She utters, and I can't help but smile. I nod gently and move my hands further up, running them over her flat stomach, feeling her muscles pulsing under my hands as she tries not to completely lose her posture. I enjoy every single moment and carefully run my hands along her rib cage to the front of her chest. Her small but perfect breasts are very sensitive. We have spent many hours in the past exploiting the sensitivity of her breasts, and she loves it when I touch them.

I gently climb up her ribs until I feel the soft tissue of her breasts under my fingers and hear my little assistant inhale sharply. She holds her breath and waits for me to give her little mounds the attention they deserve. Carefully, I cover them with my large hands and begin to massage them tenderly. I am rewarded with little sighs and the restrained moans of a feline who knows that the best is yet to come. I linger for a moment on her breasts and let her enjoy it before I sit up again and move my hands further up to her slender neck. My eyes are still closed because I don't need to see her to know what has to happen now. Slowly, I lean down to her and give her another little kiss.

“Close your eyes so you don't get any foam in them,”

I say quietly, and as I open my eyes, Mittens closes hers. For just a brief, fleeting moment, we look into each other's eyes, and I see complete trust in hers. I gently stroke her cheeks with my thumbs while my large hands support her head. The remaining foam on my hands is enough to lather her very short fur on her face. I work carefully and quickly, making sure that neither her nose nor her eyes come into contact with the soap. The shampoo is generally harmless, but it's still better to be safe than sorry.

When I have finished lathering her head, I reach for the shower head and turn the water back on. I reduce the pressure a little, at least until I have removed the foam from her head. I carefully assist the water by stroking the foam out of her fur with my hand while the shower head rinses the last remnants of the luxurious soap from her coat. After I'm done with her head and neck, I turn the water back up and use the higher water pressure to speed up the rinsing process. As much as we both enjoy playing in the shower, Mittens and I know that we still have a lot of work to do.

I resist the urge to prolong the rinsing and make even more use of the shower head's features, and so it doesn't take long before Mittens is standing in front of me again, completely clad in black. Her wet fur clings to her petite body, emphasizing her curves in all the right places. It already looks much silkier, and the shine that always makes her look wet, even when her fur is completely dry, is visible again. A complete success, and we're not even close to finished.

I turn off the water and hang up the shower head; I still have to wash myself, but that's much quicker because I'm not covered from head to toe in luxurious fur. But first, I grab one of the large, fluffy towels and wrap my little assistant in it. The contrast between the cotton-white towel and her jet-black fur is really striking. I carefully rub the terry cloth over her body and then pull it a little tighter around her.

“Wait a minute while I wash myself,”

I say, pointing to the toilet. Mittens nods. She already knows the procedure and sits down patiently to wait for me. I smile and turn back to the shower, open the valve, and welcome the rain. I work quickly, efficiently, and without any emotion. Cleaning myself is an automatic action that has become established over many years. A necessity, not a pleasure. If we didn't have so much to do, I would have gladly taken advantage of Mittens' eagerness to please me, and we would have had a lot of fun in the shower.

After ridding myself of the last traces and smells of yesterday, I turn off the water and reach for a towel myself, but unlike Mittens, I dry myself completely. Another advantage of not having fur is that you can actually dry off relatively quickly after taking a shower. Mittens looks at me with a mixture of hunger, lust, and excitement. I see the tip of her tail sticking out of the towel, and it flicks back and forth excitedly. I wrap the towel around my hips and bend down to give her a little kiss on the head.

“I'm just going to quickly get dressed. Would you like to go downstairs?”

I ask her quietly, and Mittens nods. She slides off the toilet and pads outside while I watch her and think: God, I love this little fur ball so much...

I glance in the mirror and fix my hair before leaving the bathroom and going back to my bedroom to get something to wear.

Apart from my work clothes, which make up about eighty percent of my wardrobe, I only own a few items of clothing that could broadly be described as casual. So I take one of my leisure suits and slip into the soft fabric. I hurry, but I'm not rushing; I just don't want to keep Mittens waiting too long.

So I quickly descend the steps to my work area. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at my answering machine. No new messages, very good. I turn into the hallway that leads to my workspaces and see that the door to my second workspace is already open. With a smile, I walk down the hallway, reach for the doorknob, and pull the door open completely. Mittens has already picked out most of the brushes we'll need and laid out the matching scissors and combs. She sits expectantly on the small stool in the middle of the room and stares into the mirror attached to the back wall. I nod approvingly and step behind her, placing my hands on her narrow shoulders and looking in the mirror, where our eyes meet.

“So, my little favorite monster, do you have any requests, or should I just go wild?”

She smiles because she knows I would never disfigure her or otherwise expose her with a haircut. But I can see the wheels turning in her head; she has a request.

“Master, Mittens would like her curves to be more accentuated. Mittens has only very small curves and narrow hips. Mittens wants to be more attractive for her master.”

She asks, beaming at me in the mirror. I nod and smile, because I had already guessed as much. She had seen Felicitas, whom I had to make presentable again after her owner's failed experiment. I had turned a previously beautiful feline into a unique little predator that was not stingy with her charms and yet still did not look obscene. I had given her contours sharp edges and, with the help of a small cuts, given her delicate face a much more aggressive look that really suited her. At the time, I had already toyed with the idea of giving Mittens a similar cut, because it looked really hellishly spicy, and I know that my little assistant is capable of skillfully putting herself in the spotlight.

The thought of seeing her come towards me naked, her hips swaying and her tail whipping, ready to devour me whole, makes my mouth water.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

I ask quietly, massaging her delicate shoulders lightly. Mittens' eyes light up as she nods.

“Mittens trusts her master blindly.”

She purrs over her shoulder and I feel her straighten up against my hands.

“Good, then let's begin.”

I say and let go of her shoulders to pull over the trolley with the brushes and scissors. My eyes glide over the selection of tools. Mittens has chosen the good brushes that don't pull and make my work easier. I can't help but giggle a little and take one of the flexible brushes and turn back to my little assistant. Carefully, I position her head the way I want it and begin to brush her fur. As expected, it offers little resistance, because the shampoo we used has an additive that loosens tangles and makes combing out dead fur much easier; and so the brush glides gently through the hair of the young feline sitting in front of me on the stool, purring loudly.

I take my time and comb her very thoroughly, because that makes styling her much easier later on. Time and again, the brush glides effortlessly through her fur, pulling out loose, dead hair, which I collect in a small but steadily growing pile. I use several brushes for her head, as her fur is really short and fine here, forcing me to switch back and forth between bristles of different lengths. Once her head hair is neatly combed, I move on to her ears with a particularly soft brush and then her face with a special brush that looks more like a toothbrush than a hairbrush, but allows me to get even the smallest details into shape.

Only when I am truly satisfied with the result do I work my way down her delicate neck to her narrow shoulders. Here, her fur is already much thicker, but still silky soft. I change brushes again and now use one with steel tines that are flexible and can adapt perfectly to her contours. I can feel her pushing against each of my strokes, hoping to encourage me to apply more pressure. I smile as I continue to brush her coat, following each stroke with my hand. I can feel her coat becoming softer and smoother with every small tuft of hair removed, lying more smoothly against her body. I am very pleased with this result and slowly work my way down her back. Typical of her breed, the fur along her spine is a little longer and significantly coarser in texture. There's not much I can do about that, but I'll take advantage of the stiffer coat texture when I give her a haircut later that will turn my sweet little kitty into a predator that will devour me as soon as she gets the chance.

Slowly, I reach her waist and ask her to stand up so I can take a closer look at the flow of her coat. She complies with my request without hesitation, like the well-behaved girl she is. I smile and place my hands tenderly on her flanks, feeling her breathing and the small movements of her muscles under her fur, and I feel the steady vibration of her purring, which becomes a little more intense now that I am gently stroking her.

I use my hands to stroke her fur in the direction I want it to lie before picking up my brushes again to refine the styling I have begun. As soon as my brushes stroke through her fur again, Mittens' purring becomes significantly louder, and every now and then I can hear a soft moan, almost drowned out by her continuous purring, as I groom this very sensitive area of my little assistant's body.

Slowly, oh so slowly, I move my hands further down and reach Mittens' small, round bottom. It's true that almost all felines are naturally slim, and only a few of them manage to eat enough to be considered overweight from a medical point of view. This is partly due to their genes, which have been optimized over generations to such an extent that it is difficult for them to gain excessive weight under normal circumstances, and partly due to the fact that their owners usually only provide them with the bare minimum they need to survive. Unlike their owners, obesity is therefore rather rare among pets. Mittens is also very slim, even though I provide her with more than enough food and make sure that it is of high quality. It is simply in her nature that I am looking at a feline who would not be harmed by a few extra pounds in the right places. So my hands stroke her firm buttocks and narrow hips, moving forward and following the clearly noticeable line of her iliac crest on their way back.

“Hihihi... hmmm, master, that tickles...”

She giggles and flinches as my hands run over her iliac crest once more.

“Mhm... but it feels good, doesn't it?”

I tease her in return, and Mittens honestly agrees with me. I decide not to tease her too much and continue combing her.

I love her fur. The more you take care of it, the more it looks like a skin-tight wet silk suit that wraps softly and snugly around my little assistant's body, further emphasizing her natural beauty with every reflection of light.

I take one of the brushes and carefully comb through her fur, pulling out the dead fur and aligning the remaining fur along her contours. I can already see where I want to make a few cuts later to highlight her lovely features a little more. I work my way down along her legs and feel with no small amount of satisfaction how hard she has to try not to flinch while I work on her sensitive areas. Her fur is quite thin on her extremities, so I have to be a little more careful not to hurt her, but since we've been through this countless times together, I can rely on my experience and finish the back of her legs and thus her body without any major problems.

“This was the first trick...”

I whisper, quoting from an ancient book that I once read to her.

“...hnnn... and the second will follow quick... mmmm...”

She finishes the quote and turns slowly but elegantly toward me. She has bitten her lip, and I can not only see her arousal, but also smell it. Even the intense smell of shampoo can't mask her arousal, and I smile as my eyes slowly climb up her body, over her legs, her pelvis, and her stomach, finally resting on the green eyes of my little assistant. Carefully, I raise my hand and stroke her cheek.

“Everything okay, Mittens?”

I ask gently, and she nods into my hand.

“Mittens is just a little excited because what the master is doing feels so good.”

She explains, and her breath brushes burning hot across my forearm. I nod as well and take my hand back down, my gaze lowering to her chest. Even though her breasts are quite small, their shape causes a lot of changes in the direction of her fur growth in the chest area, sometimes creating strange swirls that make her fur stand up vertically. This can't be easily remedied with a comb; I'll have to cut it here, but I don't want to take too much length away, otherwise bald spots could form. I take one of the combs and carefully begin to shape the fur so that I can see exactly where and how to use the scissors later. Of course, I can't help but touch my little assistant's breasts while I'm doing this.

Not that it bothers Mittens, on the contrary, she enjoys every touch, perhaps even a little more than she should; but I don't mind either, because I also enjoy the intimate touch and the reactions that come with it.

However, I can't stay there too long, because there is still a lot to do, so my hands move on to her flat belly, where the fur is much easier to comb. Not only are there no sensitive breasts and nipples that I have to be careful with, but the direction of growth is quite easy to manage, so it doesn't take me long to comb her silky soft fur and slowly make my way down to the nether regions. I can feel her breathing quicken the closer I get to the promised land, and her muscles tense up more and more as my hands stroke her lower abdomen and slide along her groin towards her pubic area.

To say that Mittens is wet would be a shameless understatement; her vagina is literally dripping with arousal. I can't blame her, and unlike with regular clients, where I don't deliberately provoke or even revel in this behavior, I deliberately elicit this reaction from Mittens. Mittens is more than a client or my little assistant; Mittens is my intimate partner, and what we are doing here is not just grooming, it is part of a long, elaborate foreplay that will ultimately result in both she and I getting our money's worth. She knows that the longer she can hold back now, the longer she can endure, the greater and more satisfying the reward she will receive in the end.

Not that she wouldn't receive the reward even if she didn't endure now, but it will feel all the better if she does endure.

I am very careful when I finally reach her pubic area with my hands. I don't want to overstimulate her. That would be unfair.

“Mmmmmrrrrrrr Master, Mittens won't last long if Master keeps doing that... hnnnnn...”

Her little voice is full of lust and she can hardly restrain herself while I tame the delicate hair in her pubic area with a small comb. I nod and hurry.

It really only takes a moment, but Mittens tenses up so as not to give in to her desire. When I let go of her little kitty, I can hear her breathe a sigh of relief and I smile. I slowly straighten up and look into the eyes of my little, heavily breathing assistant.

“I'm proud of you.”

I whisper softly and stroke her cheek, whereupon she lays her head in my hand and enjoys the contact. She places her velvety soft paw on my hand and holds it to her cheek to savor the feeling for a moment longer.

“Do you need a break, or shall we continue right away?”

I ask Mittens and can feel her small movements against my hand. We continue right away; she is impatient and doesn't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary for her reward. I nod gently and stroke her cheek once more with my thumb before pressing a little kiss on her lips.

“Okay, let's continue. Please turn around again.”

I instruct my assistant and take my seat on my stool again. I take one of my favorite combs, a clipper, and lay out some scissors so that I have everything within reach when I need it later.

I start with her head and picture the look I have in mind for her. Carefully, I begin combing her hair so I can start cutting, and pick up the clippers. The whirring of the professional hair clippers fills the room, and I can see Mittens holding her breath. It's not that she doesn't trust me, it's a reflex that dates back to her time at the shelter.

The tattoo on her neck, showing her number and the date she was admitted, has faded considerably, but the trauma of being almost completely shaved and then tattooed due to her condition at the time runs deep and will probably stay with her for the rest of her life.

I keep stroking her shoulder and arm to calm her down a little, but I know that as long as I'm working with the clippers near her neck, she won't relax. I hurry, but I don't want to do a sloppy job. So, as soon as possible, I put the clippers aside and work on the finishing touches with scissors. As soon as the noise stops, I notice the tension leaving Mittens' body. I continue and work quickly on the small details that will bring out the predator in my little assistant. With a clever cut, I make sure that her otherwise rather reserved, round contours become straighter and the angles and edges stand out a little more. This ensures that her otherwise rather cute, childlike head takes on an almost geometric shape and her ears take on a more pointed silhouette. I leave small brushes at the tips of her now much larger ears, which are somewhat reminiscent of a lynx.

I roll around her and smile at her.

“You already look much more dangerous.”

I state and change my scissors for a smaller model before I start working on her pretty face, but before I can begin, Mittens growls playfully at me and we both have to laugh.

“Oh yes, a proper little predator…”

I joke and boop her nose. Mittens smiles.

I indicate to her that she must now keep still, because she knows that it is not entirely safe when I work with scissors near her face. Being the good girl that she is, she follows my instructions without hesitation and holds her head perfectly still.

Carefully, but with my goal clearly in mind, I begin to trim the short fur on her face. It's not that easy to bring out her contours and facial features a little more without shearing too much of her black fur. In the end, I manage to bring out her wild side a little more and give her a little more definition.

“Mmhmm, I like that . . .”

I murmur to her and give her a look in the mirror.

The change isn't huge, but it's noticeable at first glance. Where just a few minutes ago a cute little feline was looking at me, now there is a little panther just waiting to go hunting. Mittens hasn't failed to notice the change in her appearance either, and I can clearly see the emotions flitting across her face as she looks at her new appearance in the mirror. Surprise, joy, lust, and desire alternate as a grin slowly spreads across her lips. “Mittens likes that...” She says with a smile, and I nod to her before rolling back behind her to take care of her back. I decide to trim her fur a little overall, but leave a small strip along her spine. It looks like a razorback and gives her a much more aggressive look. At the same time, I also work on her contours and try to make the individual angles sharper. This makes her look a little narrower, but much more dynamic. Down here, it's not so bad for Mittens when I work with the clippers. Of course, she's still not completely relaxed, but she's no longer completely tense while I'm cutting. Nevertheless, she breathes a sigh of relief when I turn the clippers off again and switch back to the scissors to refine the details of my cut a little more.

Mittens has wonderfully toned muscles, and my second primary goal with this cut is to highlight them a little and give her an athletic, combative look, just as we did with Hades and Zeus, only not quite as extreme. It takes a little while to find the right balance and work accordingly, but in the end I manage the balancing act quite well and am satisfied with the result.

It's more difficult with Mittens' beautiful little butt and her tail. Deep down, I want to go much, much further, but since Mittens accompanies me as my assistant, i.e., she has contact with customers and usually wears no clothes at all during working hours, a cut that is too revealing or conspicuous would be counterproductive. As her owner and master, I am not subject to any restrictions or rules, but decency dictates a little restraint, also for Mittens' sake. I want to spare her shame and embarrassment as much as possible. I can live with a little more fur, and my little fur ball will thank me for it.

Nevertheless, I want to lend a hand and make her luxurious coat and rear view a little more provocative. Carefully, I first take care of her tail, that nimble and barely controllable whip that even now is difficult to keep still. I thin out her fur a little and make sure that the remaining coat lies really close to her skin. This gives her tail a little more agility and allows her to whip it back and forth even faster. I leave a small tuft of hair at the end of her tail. It looks a little like a lion's, only not quite as fierce. I consider for a moment whether I want to try to make it look like the tail of a demon or succubus, but then decide against it.

Next, I turn my attention to her small, round butt. I ask Mittens to bend over slightly and place my hands on her buttocks. That alone is enough to make her moan softly before she can't quite suppress a giggle.

“Master is being naughty again...”

She says with continuous giggles, and I can only agree with her. Yes, her master is being naughty, massaging her cheeks lightly, gently pulling them apart and enjoying the view. I can see her little starfish pulsing as she resists the temptation to just let herself go. I nod briefly and get to work. I also thin out her fur a little on her bottom and make deliberate cuts to create false shadows and emphasize her lovely curves a little, while at the same time trying to make her little bottom look a tiny bit more voluminous, so that her petite stature appears a little curvier. I realize that I can't create something that isn't there, and it's not about completely changing her type, it's just about showing off what's there a little better, because, as we all know, we eat with our eyes first. Meanwhile, my little assistant never tires of commenting on each of my cuts with little noises, and it becomes more difficult for her to maintain her composure with each passing minute. When I finally finish my work, I let Mittens straighten up again and take another look at the result. I am satisfied.

“Hmmm... Yes... I think I like it.”

I make a note of this and let Mittens examine herself in the mirror. She turns to the left and she turns to the right, looking at the result of her haircut, her eyes growing wider by the minute. She keeps running her hands over her sides and hips, apparently unsure whether she can believe her eyes.

“Mittens looks hot...” She gasps and turns to me. She beams at me, but then her expression darkens slightly as she looks down at herself,

“...but Master isn’t quite done yet.”

She notes, and her hands wander to her breasts and her shame. I smile gently and nod.

“Yes, your arms and your front are still missing.”

I agree quietly and tilt my head slightly. I know that everything we've done so far has been child's play, a very simple task, compared to what's coming now. Her arms will be quite easy, there's not much to do there. A few small corrections and a little emphasis on her muscles, that's it.

The rest of her torso, however, will be different. Her breasts are very sensitive and she is also very ticklish, which makes working on her chest and stomach much more difficult. And then there's...

I look into my little assistant's eyes and see that she knows what I'm thinking.

“Would you prefer to do the rest lying down?”

I ask gently, and Mittens takes her time to answer. I don't rush her, because she knows that the position of the client makes a difference to the optimal result. When she stands, her fur falls differently, and even though her breasts aren't the biggest, they also fall differently when she lies on her back.

We both know that I will achieve a good, completely satisfactory result whether she is standing or lying down, but it will simply be better if she is standing.

I see her biting her lip and her velvety hands clenching around her breasts and pubic area.

“Mittens stays standing, Mittens can do it!”

There is a certain doubt in her voice, but she says it with enough emphasis that I don't question her statement. I stroke her cheek and nod.

“All right, then let's get this over with.”

I reply and wait for Mittens to reach out her first arm to me. She hesitates only for a moment before reaching out her arm to me, and I can continue my work in the usual manner.

As we have always done, I briefly comb through the fur on her arm once more and then, following my plan, begin to emphasize her musculature a little more and clean up her contours a little. It doesn't take long and I have almost finished her arm. Holding her small, delicate hand in mine, I examine the result and check her hand. She usually keeps her hands in good condition herself, and this time too, there is not really anything to do. I just clean up the cut between her fingers a little, as this is easier with two hands than if you try to do it yourself. I tenderly kiss her hand and wait to get her second arm. With a shy smile, she hands it to me and I repeat the work I did on the first arm.

It doesn't take long, because only minor adjustments are needed on this arm too, and I've done most of the work in no time at all. Only the hand takes a little longer. It's Mittens' dominant hand, and she understandably finds it more difficult to groom this hand, but it's nothing I can't fix with a little patience, and soon this limb is finished too.

My little assistant looks at her arms and hands, turns them inwards and outwards, and the grin on her lips grows wider and wider. The skillfully placed cuts and highlights make her look more muscular, and the cleaned-up contours give her an even more supple appearance.

I let her enjoy the moment before beckoning her a little closer to me so I can devote myself to the last

task. Mittens approaches me and stands up to her full height. I smile because, despite sitting on my stool, I am not much shorter than my assistant. My gaze wanders up and down her body, taking in the subtle curves of the petite feline, and I make mental notes of where I want to achieve which effect.

Of course, I want to showcase her assets, but at the same time, I don't want to expose her or reduce her to her sexuality. Mittens finally beats me to it when she raises her hand to my cheek and draws my gaze back to her eyes.

“Master, Mittens wants to please you, Mittens wants Master to desire her... make Mittens beautiful.”

She whispers with a smile that speaks of her desire and lust. I enjoy the contact, which mirrors my gesture from earlier and contains much more than mere affection. Her velvety soft hand caresses my face tenderly and almost makes me forget what I was planning to do, but only almost. I gather my discipline and nod before refocusing on the task at hand.

I raise my hands and gently place them on Mittens' breasts. My hands aren't very big, but they completely cover my assistant's small mounds, and it feels really wonderful as Mittens rewards me with a little sigh that shows how much she herself is enjoying the contact. I carefully push and massage her breasts a little to get a better idea of where and how I want to trim her fur so that I can show off her bust better. Under my hands, I can feel her muscles playing, and I can both hear and feel her breathing deepen from the stimulation I'm giving her.

I see her tail whipping excitedly back and forth as my hands continue to caress her breasts and my fingers slowly but surely wrap around her nipples. I feel them stiffen and stand up. I can't help but grin as I tease Mittens. Of course, I enjoy this form of foreplay, and I know that my little assistant is completely into it, but right now it serves a practical purpose. I want to know how far her lovely nipples protrude so that I don't trim too much of her silky fur.

Mittens gasps loudly as I gently pinch her nipples one last time and her body trembles. Her arousal is now impossible to ignore. I can smell it, that primal, sweet scent that is so distinctive; I can see it in the blush showing through her black fur and in the way her whole body trembles; I can even feel it in the heat radiating from her core, making me sweat; and I can hear it, because Mittens' purring now drowns out everything else. She purrs so loudly and so intensely that the vibrations make her body tremble so much that she almost collapses.

I can almost feel her disappointment when I finally take my hands off her breasts and examine the result of my efforts.

“Soon, my little darling... soon...”

I whisper soothingly as I take a soft brush to comb the fur on her breasts back into the shape I want. Mittens' breathing comes in short, hot gasps as she continues to purr and clench her hands into fists. I hurry to tidy up her fur and pick up the small scissors. I carefully trim the fur, creating false shadows and giving the appearance that her breasts are a little fuller than they really are. I leave just enough fur length that her hard erect nipples barely protrude above the tips of her hair. With a skillful cut, I deepen the valley between her breasts and work out the contours of her collarbones a little more, which emphasizes the beautiful silhouette of her neck a little more. Then I take care of her chest. I want to emphasize her figure a little more to give her some more of the predatory character that we both favor for her, without her ribs sticking out too much.

Not an easy task, as her fur isn't too thick here and she has a hard time controlling herself because she's so ticklish. But we manage it, and I stroke her flank tenderly as a reward.

“Hmmm, Master... Mittens can't wait much longer...”

She gasps and I feel her hot breath on my face.

“I know, we're almost there,”

I say calmly and focus on her lower body; her belly and pubic area are all that's left.

The best comes last,

I think to myself and begin my work. Mittens' rapid, shallow breathing actually helps me a little, as the movements of her belly aren't too big. I decide to emphasize her linea alba, the line that runs down the middle of her belly and ends at her symphysis, a little. This will make her look even more athletic without emphasizing her muscles too much. Then I work on her rib cage a little more and accentuate her contours a little more. Highlighting her narrow waist isn't easy either, but with a little trick I manage to enhance her subtle curves and show them off.

In the end, my hands rest on her iliac crest and my thumbs stroke her loins. The temptation to draw attention to her crotch with skillful cuts and deliberately direct the viewer's eye to her intimate area is great, but ultimately that's not what I want. Nevertheless, I want to emphasize her femininity and highlight her sensuality a little more. Her jet-black, silky coat helps and hinders me in different ways. On the one hand, the color of her fur absorbs so much contrast that it is difficult to highlight things with small, subtle details. On the other hand, the sheen of her fur means that I have to be careful not to emphasize certain structures too much with the reflections on her fur.

I look up at my little assistant, who is struggling to maintain her composure, and gently place my hand on her crotch. Even as she gasps for air, I can feel her spreading her legs wider to give me better access.

“How far am I allowed to go?”

I ask quietly as her pussy pulses under my hand and floods my hand with pre-cum. Mitten gasps and I can see the blush rising to her ears. It’s a beautiful sight.

“M...Master...Mittens...Hnnnn...M...Mittens wants Master to be happy...”

She finds it difficult to form the words and she knows that she has no right to tell me what to do, but she also knows that I would not go against her wishes unless it concerned her well-being or safety.

I enjoy the intimate contact for a moment longer before carefully removing my hand. I smile as I look at my hand, the palm of which has been completely drenched by her. Mittens moans softly when she sees it too.

It's time. I should make sure we finish so I can give her her well-deserved reward. Not that I'm not looking forward to it myself, and my pants haven't been feeling very, very tight for quite some time now for nothing.

I take my scissors and get to work. Carefully but with emphasis, I make one cut after another. I trim the delicate fur above her labia, making sure it stands up and reflects less light. It will be as if a deep black shadow has been cast over her crotch, making it almost impossible to make out any details. Only if you are really very close to her private parts, or if a light shines directly on them, will you be able to see that only a short fuzz covers her pubic area and actually leaves nothing to the imagination.

I work quickly but thoroughly, because I want everything to be exactly as I want it. However, every touch, every cut, and every stroke with the comb provides further stimulation, and soon I am faced with the challenge of grooming the crotch of a feline whose sexual arousal runs like a torrent over my hand. Mittens leans on my shoulders and her whole body trembles.

“M...Ma...Master... hnnn... Mittens... hannn...”

I nod, knowing that she is pushing herself to her limit. I make one last cut and put the scissors aside. Not a moment too soon, because Mittens' knees give way and she falls into my lap. I catch my assistant and hold her tight. Lovingly, I pull her completely onto my lap and hug her. I gently kiss the heavily breathing cat on her head.

“I'm proud of you. You did very well. Better than I expected.”

I whisper and gently rub her back. Mittens takes a moment to collect herself before looking up at me, and I can see the relief in her eyes. I move a little closer to her, but in the end, it is she who pushes herself up from my lap and seals my lips with hers. The kiss is intense, greedy, and heartfelt. I won't hold her back this time; she has earned her reward. Even as her tongue fights mine for dominance between our mouths, she turns to me, trembling, and wraps her strong legs around my waist. I return the embrace and slowly slide my hands down her back. Mittens' claws dig into my shirt and shoulders as she tries to deepen the kiss. I inhale sharply as I feel the pain in my shoulder blades and my hands grab her firmly.

“Nnnyaaahaaa... Master...”

Mittens moans as I knead her small buttocks vigorously.

I feel like I'm about to burst, and I know she feels the same way, because the wet spot on my lap is no accident.

“Right here, or can we make it to the bed?”

I ask, while my little assistant is already rubbing her crotch harder and harder against the bulge in my pants.

“Mmmmmmm... Master... hnnnn... Mittens... bed...”

She gasps, and I nod eagerly.

I carefully stand up and lift Mittens with me. She clings to me, wrapping her legs tighter around my waist and digging her claws deeper into my shoulders. I ignore the pain, because the pleasures it promises in the near future far outweigh the pain of the present. My hands clasp her little buttocks as I turn toward the door and start walking.

“Hmmm... I can't wait...”

I whisper, taking the few steps to the door, and Mittens nods frantically.

“Mittens can't... wait...”

she gasps and starts pulling up my shirt as we leave the room. I can only agree with her, I won't make it upstairs, I'm too aroused and every further movement only stimulates us both even more.

“...Hrnnnn... fuck it...”

I curse and turn toward the Snoezelen room. Behind my ears, I hear the thin fabric of my shirt tear, and Mittens' purring takes on a new, more aggressive quality. I hold my little assistant with one hand while trying to unzip my pants with the other, stumbling toward the relaxation room, knowing that there is a comfortable bed there. Meanwhile, Mittens is busy pulling my shirt off my back in strips while nibbling on my neck and whipping her tail around.

“Ouch...”

I cry out as I reach for the door handle. My assistant's giggle makes me grip her butt tighter, eliciting a loud moan from her. I push open the door and enter the darkly furnished room, which was created specifically so that my clients can relax a little after work. What we are both about to do here has little to do with relaxation. My pants slide down from my hips and land with a rustle on the floor.

Now covered only by a thin layer of stretchy fabric, my member quickly rises to its full size, and I can feel it pressing against its counterpart in the crotch of the little feline in my arms. I can't and don't want to wait any longer, so I hastily step out of my pants and hurriedly take the few steps that separate us from the bed.

“Hnnnn Master... so big...”

Mittens gasps, unable to resist rubbing her crotch against the bulge in my now completely soaked underwear.

When I reach the bed, I lean over the edge and let us both fall onto the mattress. Mittens opens her legs and I can move away from her a little. I don't hesitate and rip my underwear off. Even though it takes a lot of effort, I remain on my knees for a moment and look down at her as she lies in front of me with her legs spread wide and her arms raised, begging me with everything she has not to keep her waiting any longer. In fact, I don't want to keep her waiting any longer, so I bend down to her again. I support myself with one hand next to her shoulder and guide my member into its target with the other.

Mittens is more than ready, so I can easily penetrate her, and my assistant welcomes me with open arms. The first penetration is still cautious, I adjust my knees and my position slightly to be able to move better. Meanwhile, my little assistant caresses me with more than just her hands and lips.

No words are necessary, no questions about the obvious, and so I begin to move inside her.

This is not gentle sex, because neither Mittens nor I are able to hold back a moment longer. I set a brisk pace as I penetrate her again and again, trying to dive deeper into her. My hands cramp up in the sheets next to her shoulders and my feet try to find more grip on the mattress.

Mittens has wrapped her legs around my waist again and holds my face so she can look into my eyes. I see pain and desire in her eyes, but also an all-consuming lust that she moans loudly in my face with every new thrust. She lets her muscles massage my member and her tail wraps around one of my legs as I approach my first climax.

I squint my eyes and bare my teeth in an attempt to hold out a little longer. My muscles tense up and my movements become more jerky, so that I can no longer keep up my pace. Through the fog of my senses, I perceive that Mittens is also tensing up more and more.

In her aroused state, she too is close to her first orgasm.

“Hnnnn... haaa... Ma... Master... rrrrrrrr...”

She gasps before pulling herself up on me and biting my neck. That's enough to push me over the edge of the cliff and into the abyss. With a screamed moan, I surrender to my climax.

My body convulses and twitches as I pump the pent-up contents of my testicles into her. As I squirt two or three times, I ram myself as deep as I can into my little assistant, whose vagina convulsively contracts around me. She holds her breath as her own body surrenders to its climax.

...

When I can finally gather my thoughts again, we are lying closely entwined on the bed in the Snoezelen room. We are both breathing heavily, and I feel the pain of Mittens' bite in my neck as a dull throbbing that cries out for more attention.

I ignore the pain and take care of my little partner, whose purring is repeatedly interrupted by her rapid breathing. I gently stroke her head and give her a shy kiss on the forehead.

“ All good?”

I ask quietly and get a slow nod in response. Carefully, I turn onto my side with her and pull her closer to me. I love the warmth that radiates from her little body and how much she enjoys the contact with her owner.

Now that her first, ravenous hunger has been satisfied, we can take care of her real reward.

“Mmmmm... so, are you ready for your reward?”

My voice is a little hoarse, which is why I can't modulate it quite as I would like, but that doesn't bother Mittens. She pulls herself up my neck until she can look me straight in the eyes.

“Mittens is always ready for her reward, but can Master still give Mittens her reward?”

This stings deeply, and I feel my pride wounded, even though I know Mittens didn't mean it that way. Her grin betrays her, and when I nod, she presses her lips to my mouth. It is a sensual kiss, filled with love, not as hasty and greedy as the last ones, but a deep, calm kiss that connects us in a way that few things can.

Tenderly and slowly, she pushes me back until I am lying on my back and she is kneeling over me. She doesn't even pause the kiss to catch her breath, but continues to suck on me while her hands seem to be everywhere at once.

She caresses, strokes, massages, and scratches me while my hands rest on her hips and hold her tight. When she finally pulls away from the kiss, I feel dizzy and look up at the predator I have turned her into. She licks her lips hungrily as she presses her burning hot pussy against my now re-erect member.

“You are beautiful...”

I voice my thoughts.

“...my little panther.”

She growls playfully and pawes at me before I notice her lifting her pelvis.

“Mittens wants her reward...mmmmrow...”

She purrs with a broad smile, and I nod as she slowly impales herself on me.

The feeling is divine, she is so warm and inviting, yet at the same time she is so tight that I am almost afraid of hurting her. Of course, I don't hurt her; ever since the very first time we did it, we both know that we are very compatible with each other.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she slides down my shaft until she finally sits on my lap, accompanied by a happy moan. We both enjoy the feeling of being connected in this intimate way for a moment, while I caress her hips and flanks and Mittens stretches to loosen up tense muscles.

“Hnnnnn... Mittens loves that... it feels so good... mmmmrrrr.”

She purrs and runs her hands over mine.

Oh yes, Mittens loves that, and how she loves it. She expresses her love by using her inner muscles to stimulate me further as she very slowly begins to move her pelvis on my lap. I feel goosebumps forming all over my body and at the same time my muscles begin to tremble. She takes my hands and guides them to her small breasts and I begin to knead them. Not too hard, just enough to provide the right stimulation, but Mittens leaves her hands on mine to show me that I should squeeze harder. I comply with her request and am rewarded with a loud gasp and a further tightening of her internal muscles, and my arousal reaches new heights.

Even though Mittens is still quite young and has had limited experience, she is a master at seducing and stimulating her intimate partner.

As her rhythmic movements slowly increase in speed and intensity, she accompanies her efforts with sweet little noises. She has her eyes closed and bites her lips, and every little moan and gasp brings me closer to madness. I have now started to move my pelvis in the same rhythm as Mittens to intensify the stimulus a little, and because I don't want her to have all the fun on her own. Every time my movements sink my member a little deeper into Mittens, my body trembles with lust and I come one step closer to climax.

Mittens leans forward further to support herself on my shoulders, while my hands continue to caress her breasts and manipulate her nipples.

Mittens' vocalization becomes louder, more pressed, as she slowly but surely transitions from her previous grinding undulations to a rhythmic up and down motion. With every deep thrust, she welcomes me with open arms, while she doesn't want to let me go when I slide out. Each of her movements milks me further and drives me before her to this abyss called orgasm.

But I am not alone, because Mittens is also trembling and has to make an effort not to succumb to her climax again right away. Every time her pelvis descends onto my lap, she moans loudly, and her cries are filled with joyful pain.

I let go of her breasts and bring my hands back to her hips, holding her tight and taking over the movement for her.

“Mmm... Master... Mittens... please... hannnnyaaa...”

She presses out between clenched teeth as I use my strength and penetrate deep into her with every thrust. Her tone changes, becoming higher, more intense, and her hands cramp around my shoulders. I feel her tightening, her muscles desperately trying to build more pressure as I bring her closer and closer to her own climax.

For an infinitely long moment, it seems as if we won't be able to make our bodies grant us the relief of climax, but then we both fall almost simultaneously.

Mittens climbs her peak first, screaming her orgasm into the room as her vagina contracts spasmodically, almost pushing me out of her. Her whole body twitches and trembles in the frenzy of emotions, and then I'm ready too. My feet lose their grip and I plunge into the abyss of my own climax.

I love this feeling of free fall.

I know everyone celebrates their climax, but for me it's different than for most others in the Archology. Because unlike for others, my orgasm is not just the climax, the goal of sexual union, for me it is the one moment when I am truly free. This is the only thing that the highborn of the Archology cannot simply take away from me, and so I revel in this brief moment of free fall.

I surrender completely to my lust and enjoy the wave of happiness flowing through my body, because it is over far too quickly. I can already feel reality reaching out for me again, pulling me back down to earth, back to the here and now, back to Mittens, whose small, delicate body is trembling and quivering as she crouches on top of me, continuing to circle her hips on my lap in her addiction and greed for affection and love.

Her hoarse moans, accompanied by her rough breathing, are all I can perceive at the moment. My hands slowly wander up her back until I tenderly embrace her and pull her onto my chest.

“Sshhh... my little darling... sshhhh... let it be for now...”

I whisper, scattering little kisses on her head. Mittens' movements become stuttered and finally she collapses on top of me.

“B... but... Mittens... hnnnn... not... yet... rrrnnnn... not... nyooo...”

She murmurs into my chest and I stroke her gently while kissing her head again.

“I know, sweetheart... you'll get the rest later, I promise, but right now it's just too much, even for you.”

I explain calmly and scratch her behind her ear. Her head lies heavy on my hand and her body is only slowly calming down from the exertion, but the trembling now comes more from her purring than from the strain of her muscles. Carefully, I reach for one of the weighted blankets and pull it over us.

It's not that we're cold, far from it, but it will help calm my little assistant and it's just cozier under a blanket. The moment the blanket covers us both, Mittens curls up into a ball of fur on top of me and snuggles closer to my heart.

She has always said that my heartbeat calms her, and this time is no different. Her breathing deepens and her muscles relax as soon as her ear rests on my chest and, apart from her purring and my breathing, only my heartbeat reaches her.

I also relax under the blanket and Mittens, close my eyes, and enjoy the moment as my hand gently strokes her back and I wish that time would just stand still for the next two hours.

I enter the room silently. The shine of the red heating lamp baths the room in an eerie light. There she lies, on my bench. Naked, willing and totally relaxed. She is young, absolutely georgeous and she will be mine for at least the next hour and a half. She almost glows unter the the red light of the lamp. She turns her head to me and smiles at me relaxed. I smile back at her and admire her body, that does not hide any of its marvelousness under a coat of fur. She stretches once more, moaning a bit in anticipation before turning over to present her backside to me.

I switch of the heating lamp as I take the bottle with the perheated oil. I pop the cap open and smell the rich flavor of the etheric oils and herbs in it. I step closer to the bench and let a considerable portion of oil flow onto my hand. She turnes her head towards me and smiles happily. Her needy eyes beg me to begin and her slightly opened mouth pleas for me to not torment her any longer. I look over her lovely back, follow the lines of her slender body down her back and to her small bottom. Her round, firm cheeks form an almost perfect peach before ending in a pair of seemingly endless legs. I smile as her whiplike tail begins to lash back and forth in anticipation.

I put the bottle back down into the warming bath and rub the oil between my hands. I take the last step towards the bench and gently lay my hands onto the middle of her back. Her skin is so soft and warm. She humms in pleasure and I can feel her nicely toned back-muscles play under my hands. She takes a somewhat deep breath and relaxes before I begin to let my hands roam over her back. I spread the oil on my hands onto her back until it is mostly covered by the good smelling lubricant. As she continues to comment my ministrations with her humms, I begin to knead her muscles around her neck and shoulder area. Her humming becomes more vocal as I find some tens spots. I concentrate on them, breaking them down with more intense but still gentle kneading. She moans quietly and I can see how her toes curl in with my every move in her musculature.

I find some pretty tens spots and mark them for later before working my way down over her shoulders to the backside of her chest. As I know her to be part of a troop of acorbates, belonging to a traveling circus, her muscles are strong and well build. I do have my fair share of work digging throu her musculature and she thanks me with her moans and sqeaks of pleasure and pain as I work my way further down. When I come to her waist, the upper portion of her back looks like she has a mild sunburn. Her skin is completely flushed in a healty red and radiates a pleasant warmth. Her waist, as she had informed me earlier, is a bit of a sore spot. She had missed a landing in their last performance and crashed pretty badly on her back, hence her appointment with me. I can see the bruise and the abrasion on her lower back and nod. I will have to be a bit more carefull around here. I begin with some light strokes and ever so gently work my way into her muscles. I can feel and see her tense up under my hands, but as she realizes, that I know where to be carefull and where I can dig in, she relaxes again. Slowly I work through all of her muscles on that side down to her pelvis. When I finish that side and do some gentle rubbings all over her back, she huffs a sigh of relief.

I smile, take the oil out of the heating bath and take another portion into my hand before wandering to her opposite side. With a loving smile I rub the oil between my hands again and gently lay my hands on her back. I enjoy the play of her muscles under my hands for a moment, as she enjoys the intens warmth of the oil and my hands on her yet unmassaged side of her back. I gently spread the oil over her back and again begin with her neck and shoulders. My patient humms her approval to my ministrations and I ever so softly switch from rubbing to kneading. I feel her muscles between my fingers and work them until they begin to loosen up under my hands. Again I find some knots in her musculature and mark them for later before slowly working my way down. I work past her shoulderblade as she winces and sharply inhales. I slowly back out of her muscles and gently feel what does cause that pain. I find a small bump on one of her ribs and conclude, that it could be a cracked rib as a result of her fall. As the sharp pain slowly ebbs away, she relaxes again.

I softly continue to massage my way through her muscles, always downwards. Again, as I come to her waist, I carefully avoid the area of her bruise and the abrasion, but other than that I thouroughly knead her muscles. When I come near her pelvis, I find a lot of knots and tense spots in her muscles and when I concentrate myself a bit more on them she starts to moan out louder. I smile and go back to big area rubbings all over her back. I can hear her humm in pleasure and feel the vibrations in her body as she begins to purr under my hands. I do some hand over hand rubs parallel to her spine. I lay in some weight and as I shove my hands upwards her moans get louder. I can see her hands claw into the pillow under her head and her toes curl in. On my question if I am to hard, she denies and demands more pressure. I happily provide and her moans get a bit more intense with my ministrations.

Looking back at her back one can clearly see the thick darkly flushed streaks up her back flanked by the moderately deep flush of the rest of her back. I am pleased with the result and can feel the intense heat radiating from her back. She humms in total bliss, as I go and get a little bit more oil. I rub it between my hands and come up besides her. My hand starts to massage the base of her tail and her deep inhale in response to my sudden action is followed by a deep moan of satisfaction, as I grasp her tail and softly tug on it, applying traction to it, and in its further course her whole spinal cord. I massage every section of her tail seperately between my thumb and indexfinger. She alters between humms, quiet squeals and moans while I caress her tail up to its tip. On more than one occasion she almost whipped it loose, but i can keep a hold on it and finish the job.

As I lay it down and get some more oil she sighs happily and asks if I wouldn’t want to come and travel with them, so she could anjoy this kind of treatment more often. I have to decline, since I am assigned by a higher authority to this job. She huffs in disapointment.

As lay my hands on her buttcheek and again let the heat of the oil an my hands seep into her muscles before beginning to spread out the oil and beginning the massage. This time her moans are a lot louder and their tone is a lot more geared in a different direction. It does not escape me, that she opens her legs little by little and the smell, that mingles with the scent of the oil is very much noticable. I smile and I know that she knows I have notcied it already. With a mischievious grin on her face, she shifts her position ever so slightly to lie more comfortably. I resist the urge to slip with my fingers, much to her disapointment.

I work my way downwards from her butt to her thigh, which is massaged thouroughly further down to her perfectly toned calf and her achillis heel. Between moans, bouts of giggling and the occasional squeal, I get this leg pretty much done without a major hitch. I get some more oil and return to the opposite site of the bench.

Again I lay my hand softly on her cheek and let the heat seep in. She humms in agreement as I start to dig into her glutes. Her muscles feel great in my hands and I revel in the feeling of being able to work on her. Her moans let me know that she feels the same. I slowly work through her complete buttock and enjoy every moment of it before switching over to her thigh. I take my time and thouroughly knead her thigh. When I come to the inner thigh I can feel her tense up a bit and her breathing gets a little bit more excited. She tries to open her legs a bit more without me noticing it, but I can feel her every move and every twitch of her muscles. I smile benevolently and in the end I am the one opening her legs a bit more to get up in her inner thigh. She moans quite loudly as I go in and knead her adductors nicely. I am still very carefull not to touch her inaprobriately but her scent and the fact that she eminates quite a lot of heat from her crotch tells me all I need to know and smile. I work my way down over her knee to her calf. The tension in her calf is significantly higher and I spent a good portion of time there to get it out of there. She moans and squeals quietly as I work deep in her muscles. I know that some off those techniques are quite painfull, but they work wonders on cramped up muscles. She tries to pull her leg away reflexively but I can hold it in place and keep on working. Soon she stops squirming as the knots in her musculature get dissolved into smooth goodness. I finish up the leg and begin to use wide techniques to sooth any and all tension in her leg caused by my ministrations. She humms and moans her approval to this method and soon she is like putty in my hands again. I work my way back up her leg to her lovely behind and use some special grips to loosen even the last of her cramped muscles. I work on both cheeks simultaniously. My thumbs gliding along the crack inbetween her cheeks and come dangerously close to falling in several times, but I stay professional and don’t take advantage of the situation. I stroke along the rim of her pelvis around her hips as far to the front as I can manage, hook in my fingers and pull back. Producing a nice high pitched squeal from her as I stretch her cramped muscles around her hips. I decide, that I will have to do her front too later, since I can feel there being some more tense spots that need treatment.

For now I confine myself to work her backside and flanks as far as I can reach. Reaching her waist again, I lay my hands on both sides of her spine, apply some presure and stretch her muscles outwards with the palms of my hands. I am rewarded with a somewhat pressed out moan from her, in which there is more pleasure than pain. I grin and let my hands glide all the way around her slim waist until my fingertips almost touch her teats in the front. She giggles girlish and turns her head to me. Her smile is warm and lovely. She sticks out her tongue in a cheeky way and I grin to her gripping her waist just a tiny bit firmer and she winks at me. I work my way up her torso to her ribcage. Carefull not to cause her any more pain than necessary I work the spaces between her ribs. I can feel her deep breaths as her ribcage widens and contracts nicely with them. Soon I am back at her shoulders again. I recall the places where I found the painfully tense spots in her muscles. I get one of my wooden massagesticks and go on to find those spots again. With a fair warning of what is to come I go to work dissolving those spots. Finding one I go in deep directly on the spot and start the procedure of dissolving, which consists of applying a high amount of pressure and minimal circling on said tense spot. I can feel her tensing up and biting into the pillow. I can literally feel the spots dissolve under my fingers, as the technique works rather instantaniously. Whenever I pause shortly, after dissolving one of the spots, to give her the opportunity to breath and relax, she moans loud. I can relate to her, since I only know too well, how painfull this can be. Luckily, there are only a select few spots, that are to be treated like this and we are done realtively quick. After I am done with this procedure I put the stick back onto the cupboard and grab another bottle of oil. I pop the cap open and smell that sweet and spicy scent of the herbs that enriched it. The special composition helps to sooth the pain and prevents the development of hematoma. I let a good portion flow into my hand, rub it in and then spread it over her neck and shoulders, lightly massaging it in. She humms in agreement to this and I can feel how she relaxes under my hands again. Her neck and shoulders seem to glow in their flush and the heat they are eminating. I use both hands in their whole to strocke out the tension of her neck towards her shoulders and back.

When I am satisfied with the results I step back from the bench and tell my patient, that I would love for her to turn over. She nods visually relaxed and turns over to lay on her back. She stretches once more gleefully before shuffling a bit untill she finds herself in a comfortable position. I take the preheated bottle of oil and wet my hand with it again. She watches me with an aura of joyfull anticipation as I come back to the bench. I hold out my hand for hers, and she reaches for it without hesitation. I begin gently spreading the oil onto her arm before beginning to massage it gently. Since she is an acrobat, her arms are slim, but her musculature is toned and nicely build up. I start at her shoulders and slowly wander down her arm. After kneading her delta and biceps, I work on her triceps and further down. I rest her elbow on an armrest and work with both hands on her forearm. Dividing her delicate muscles into groups to knead them as I see fit. Ultimately I come down to her hand. I get another small dab of oil and then work on her hand. I just use my fingertips, as her hands are so small and delicately build. When I am done I once more stroke her whole arm upwards to her shoulders. All the while she silently enjoys the treatment. I finish the arm and gently lay it back onto the bench. I round the table and repeat the process on her other arm.

Both arms done, I go down to her legs. Standing next to those long, elegant legs I grin, reaching out for the bottle of oil. I humm in satisfaction as my hand is once more filled with that luxurious oil. I rub it between my hand and then spread it over her thigh, slicken it up nicely for me to massage her strong and perfectly toned musculature. She humms in bliss, as my hands start their work on her inner thigh. I work my way right up to her privates but keep my hands strictly off of them. It gets pretty close a few times as she tenses up her muscles, pulling her legs together, but I keep my cool and handle it professionally. She moans as I work deep in her adductors kneading them thouroughly. As I take a look she is dripping wet. She would indulge in it blissfully when I would give in to her machinations, but I won’t. So I continue to massage her thigh and work my hands downwards to her knees and past them to her calf. I gently stroke her whole leg and give her loins a gently stroke, which makes her sigh in blissfull need. I smile and round the bench once more to get to her other leg. I look up at her face and she smiles back at me with dreamy eyes. She nods slowly, as I ask if she is alright and begs me to continue. I comply happily and repeat the process on this leg as well. When I am done, I let my hands wander on her loins and waists, making her squirm a bit on my bench. The faces she makes are so beautiful and the sounds she makes while in such a need for attention are like an angels song in my ears. I come up to her head and drag a stool to me. As I sit down she looks up at me questioningly but I insure her that everything is alright. She relaxes and closes her eyes. I gently shove my hands under her neck, softly laying my hands and fingers on it and ever so slightly begin to pull. I can feel her muscles tensing up just a bit to hold her head in place, but soon they let go again and her head lies completely in my hands. I take a deep breath and relax. I concentrate on my hands and feel into her neck, feeling ever minute movement in it, feeling her pulse, that slow but steady rhytm, pumping blood through her system. I can feel her breathing, feel how the movement of her chest manipulates her neck. I can feel the little twitches of the muscles controling her eyes and face as she drifts further and further into a trance like state. I wait for a specific movement, that one rhythm totally unique to her neck. It takes a while but then it is there. It is a small, almost unnoticable movement. I start following the movements her neck dictates and sway, pitch, roll and pull my hands in those most miniscule movements. It is a testament to her feeling for her body and her bodycontroll that she notices what I am doing and humms in agreement. The vibrations of her vocal cords feel so much amplified in my highly concentrated state that I almost have to giggle. I try to steer her movements towards the rhythm I want to feel. I takes almost five minutes, but then, almost out of nowhere her neck begins to pulse in the right way. I can feel it and through it, I can feel the biorhythm of her whole body. Almost at the same time, her head gets significantly heavier. I can feel the tension flowing out of her and she sighs in total relaxation.

Gently I lay her head back down on the pillow and led my hand glide down her neck to her shoulders. I let them rest there for about a minute before I slowly take them away. I stand up and walk to a cupboard. I take the big and fluffy white blanket and cover her up with it. I tell her to rest for a little while, letting her body adjust to the new situation. She nods and lays there calmly. I smile to myself relaxed and silently leave the room.

...

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El Poyo Diabolo

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