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And the Darwin Award goes to...

Bernard had been an admirer of beautiful things all his life. From when he was a child he loved nothing more in the spring and summer than to chase after the butterflies in the garden and the meadows, snap a photo or two and then release them.

No flower, no kitten, no puppy, no beautiful bird was safe from his eager paws and his camera.

Of course over time his body grew, helping him with longer arms and legs and bigger muscles. To climb higher trees and run faster. With his body grew his talent for snapping pictures as well. Some people called him "Glass Eye", because the first thing they noticed was the lens of the camera. In those rare occasions that they spotted him.

With his body and his skills, his need did also grow. His need for beauty. Perfection. Grace. Smooth curves and long tails. Radiating diamond eyes, cute noses and well formed legs. Naked beauty. Spread lips, sometimes impaled by large rods, sometimes by barbed penises, stuffed to the brim with horseflesh or locked in position by a massive knot.

Being a cat made it a lot easier to come close to this sort of beauty of course. He had climbed many a roof and building under the cloak of the night. In a different trade he would be called a 'Second Story Man'. Some people climbed with ropes and good shoes. All Bernard needed were his claws, his padded feet and his long, bushy tail.

He himself was not ugly, being surrounded by beauty, one had to blend in. He had an angular face with gleaming golden eyes, a white tuft of hair on his chest and markings on his hands that looked like glove. With his otherwise gleaming black fur he was wearing the look of a dinner jacket, even when he was stark naked.

It would probably help him becoming a ladies' man. Or a gentlemen's man. But his constant need for beauty usually ate up all his time. Kept him away from boring talk at dinner parties and let him sneak toward the more interesting balconies upstairs. Where the ladies lifted their skirts and let themselves be eaten out by men and in one memorable occasion, women. In those places, where the twitchy meandered to have a quick, rough fuck to scratch an itch with the stunning looking Tomcat they had grabbed five minutes before. Or who let themselves be bent over by a large stallion, being plowed hard into the nearest wall. Or those, who loved the thrill and had a bit of a weak spot for exhibitionism and loved being locked to a dog for half an hour with the constant fear that someone might walk in on them.

The thrill of the wealthy, the naughty.

Bernard knew them all, knew their secrets and their fancies. Lady Odelia, Countess of the local blue bloods loved being bent over by large studs and plowed in the ass while a cat or a dog would go on her from below. Lord Ruthbert, proud husband of Lady Odelia, loved watching them through a peephole and sometimes being sucked off by one of the female employees.

Lester McMorraine had a thing for kittens below the age of six, his wife drank herself silly and then loved dangling from the knot of her butler like a common bitch.

James Ferdinand Gustave de Javier of Thousand Hills, third of his name and heir to quite a large fortune, loved nothing more than being tied in a series of rubber and metal shackles, a chastity device around his cock and being used as a cum dump in the men's room of the local gay bar. And if he was feeling particularly frisky, he loved replacing the urinals.

Bernard had them all on film and on tape. His collection was worth millions and had already brought him quite a fortune by selling kinky shots to newspapers. But like any real collector, he mostly took them for his own satisfaction. Privately relishing the beauty and the novelty of the shots in his own home where he was constantly surrounded by them. He had his own studio and had transformed the most beautiful shots into his very own tapestry.

But like any collector, he loved to hunt for rarer and rarer shots. There was one person that he had not yet caught on tape. His own personal Blue Mauritius, the Holy Grail of photography.

Her name was Teresa Beauvier. She was stunning, intelligent, radiant and talented. A beautiful Turkish Angora cat with snow white fur and sapphire eyes. There were no scandals about her, not even rumors about what she might fancy. It was said that she still was a virgin even though she was almost twenty-one. So far she had lived a rather sheltered life on her parents' grounds. Surrounded by guardians, guards, teachers, a ton of watchdogs and of course the eyes of her parents.

To Bernard, she was the Ark of Covenant. And since she had recently moved out of her parents' mansion, she suddenly was within reach.

Well, almost in reach anyway.

Her flat was on the top floor of a top notch apartment building, there was high-end security around her at every waking second and there were rumors of watchdogs that surrounded the premises two floors below. The penthouse manager had made an exception about the watchdogs because normally there would have been no dogs allowed.

Smiling to himself, Bernard started getting ready after lunchtime. Very carefully he started stretching his limber body and preparing his climbing bag. Of course like usual he would not wear any kind of gear, but he would have to stow his batteries for the camera somewhere. Also some chalk powder to provide slippery paws, a second lens for the camera and two data chips in reserve. Three was a lucky number, especially when it came to camera chips. One to fill with photos, one to hand over in case he got caught and one in case the first two didn't work.

Mentally preparing himself was key as well. He meditated, stretched and meditated again, then took care of his claws, went to the loo as often as possible and shoved the emergency first aid kit into his bag.

When darkness fell, he slipped out of his apartment, wearing a mask and a morph suit. Mostly to cover up his distinguishable markings and also to blend easier with the night. His golden eyes gleamed in the night as he went for the hunt.

...

Two hours later he had arrived the building that she was in. Fetching a waiter's outfit and his climbing gear out of his rather large bag, he easily blended with the staff of the restaurant on the ground level. Snatching a silver domed plate from the serving tray when another waiter wasn't looking, he went to one of the elevators.

Out of the corners of his eyes he saw the camera recording him so he made sure to get out four floors below the penthouse. Sure, it was rather risky to get off this early but he liked to play it safe. When he left the elevator, he allowed a grin to creep on his face. Absolutely no one was around. This was child's play.

Picking the lock on a storage room seemed almost too easy and Bernard could have done it in his sleep. He waltzed in, got rid of the waiter's assembly and placed it in a bucket he found there. The serving tray went into one of the closets that held washing detergents. Carefully brushing his fur under the hood of the morph suit and pulling a balaclava over his head, he felt his heart slowing down. Professionalism poured out of him and with mechanical precision he got ready for his job like an actor who readied himself for a role. Then he snapped the belt of his bumbag shut, carefully sliding it to the back just above his long black tail.

His black ears turned around, following even the slightest noise. Closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, he calmed himself even more. When he was sure that there was no one else on the corridor outside, he slipped out of the closet like a shadow in the night.

The fun was about to begin.

...

The wind whipped around him, tearing at his clothes like a cheated wife. It howled and had cooled his ears so much that they felt numb. His tail was whipping in the wind as well, flicking from side to side and keeping balance while Bernard kept climbing. Slowly and steadily he worked his way up like a lizard. His powerful hands and feet finding purchase on the tiniest of depressions that surrounded the newly renovated building.

He had always been able to do that. Climbing surfaces that seemed impregnable for anyone. They had called him a superhero and named climbing his superpower. But it was nothing really. Everyone had special talents. His was being able to get to areas that he was not supposed to and snap pictures.

Smiling to himself he balanced on a ledge so small it would have gotten a mountain goat worked up. Tensing his muscles he jumped over a rather large window that was obstructing his way. The howling wind caught him and managed to throw him a few fingers widths off course.

Bernard scrambled, his claws slid with a high screeching sound over the glass, then found a grip. Dangling from his left hand he tensed, slowly drawing himself up. His foot found a hold and quick as a flash he was sitting on the ledge, smiling to himself.

Snuffling and growling sounds gained his attention. Lifting his nose, he took a big whiff of air. Dogs. Fuck. Apparently, Mommy and Daddy had sent some of the watchdogs with their precious daughter.

His ears were still twitching, scanning the surrounding area for more surprises. But the dogs seemed to be the only one and apparently they were alone. No guard in sight. Carefully poking his head up so he could see, Bernard scanned the area for a way up.

There was a drainpipe a bit further away. He was on a balcony right now and it followed the site of the house. Smiling to himself, Bernard scuttled round the area, leaped powerfully over the growling dogs below and was away before anyone really noticed him.

The drainpipe was a gift from some minor or major god to pursue his quest. It was a sign. Today, he just knew that he was going to get his shots of Teresa. He just knew it.

...

She lay naked on the bed, her glorious white fur slightly damp from the shower. A few drops of water still clung to it, shimmering like diamonds. Her tongue brushed carefully over the fur on her leg, combing it through.

Bernard felt his throat tighten and blood shooting into his dick. His camera was snapping one picture after another, the noise of the shutter drained out by the distance. It probably helped too that she was listening to music while she was licking her fur.

Slowly, sensually she lifted her long well formed leg and was about to bend her head down to lick her most intimate spot, when a door opened. Immediately her head whipped round and those sapphire eyes locked on a rather wild looking red tomcat. He was still busy toweling himself off but stopped when his eyes found the center between the widely spread legs in front of him. The tip of his dick poked out of his sheath in an instant and he threw the towel to the side.

Teresa smiled at him, turned on her belly and looked over her shoulder. Those stark blue eyes were burning with need and her large bushy tail flicked back and forth.

He was on her in an instant. His arms locked themselves around her hips and his tongue darted out to lick the thick fur on her neck. Then his head darted forward, taking a fold of her neck between his teeth. She mewled and waved her bum, stretching herself against him. Every brush of her soft looking fur lured more and more of the large barbed dick out of his sheath. The tip gleamed wetly and the white barbs made it look like it was lined with razor wire.

When the large, bright red dick slid home, she mewled slightly, wiggling her hips. Then he pulled back, causing her to hiss and spit in a wild mixture of hate and orgasmic lust. Those red hips jerked forward and backward, sawing themselves in and out of Teresa with reckless force. She drew her claws into the bed, slicing the covers and moaning, hissing and shrieking her lust out. Her whole body rocked with every thrust, she howled, thrusting her hips back against the dick that constantly assaulted and scratched her cunt, rubbing her raw from the inside.

Not capable of withstanding the wonderful sight, Bernard set the camera on auto record and placed it on the edge of the balcony. Then he slid his hand into his morph suit where the full length of his barbed dick poked painfully into the cloth. With a firm grip, he started to jerk himself off furiously, imagining that it was him who pounded her like that. That it was his dick that she was mad about, that it was his seed about to fertilize her defenseless cunt.

Bernard saw the orgasm hit her with the force of a truck. She opened her muzzle and wailed in mindless agony and lust, quaking from the overwhelming intensity of her feelings. When her lover did not slow down, she tried to get away from him, from the constant intense mixture of pain and pleasure. Teresa's neck fur stretched where he held her close with all his might while she tried her best to get away from the maddening feeling.

The tomcats' hips jerked forward again, once, twice. He slammed himself in and growled. Bernard saw every single spurt that the orange one was delivering into her cunt because it was accompanied by large twitching motions of his tail.

Closing his eyes, Bernard continued the speed of his masturbation. 'Take that, you needy bitch', he thought, 'I'm gonna knock you up and fill your belly to the brim with kittens.' Then he would be out of the window like a flash, leaving her behind without any chance to get hold of him ever again. Pumping his hips into his hand, Bernard was about to blow his load when he suddenly lost his balance. He made a mad grip for the ledge of the balcony, missed and fell down.

Howling and hissing his hands and legs continued to make grabbing motions, his mind still processing the information that there was nothing to hold on to. Turning his head and his body, he managed to land on his hands and feet, catching the blow of the impact.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he stayed where he was, glad to be alive. Barking and growling noises came out of nowhere. Something closed around his hand and jerked, something else around his left leg. Sharp teeth bore into his limbs and made a shaking motion as if to kill a rat.

"Wait, no!"

Another pair of teeth clamped themselves around his genitals, held on and did the same shaking motion. The teeth ripped and sawed through them, tearing the cloth and the skin below.

Howling in pain and bleeding, Bernard covered his crotch with his hands, trying to protect the screaming flesh.

He did not notice that someone called the dogs off or that someone else regarded him with sapphire eyes from another balcony one floor above him.

What he did recognize was when someone jerked his hands away and pressed something hard and burning into his bleeding crotch, cauterizing it. The smell of burning flesh and fur hit his nose and he howled and whimpered. Someone shackled his hands and feet, then started treating the rest of his wounds.

...

A few months later

He was kneeling on the floor of a rather beautifully furnished apartment. A thin leather collar was all he was wearing and the essence of his world was a pair of folds that he was licking vigorously. It belonged to mistress Teresa who had kept him as a pet after he had somehow been naughty.

He didn't quite remember what he had done, but it was a good thing that Mistress was of such a forgiving nature.

Sure she had punished him quite severely in the beginning but it was all better now.

A groan escaped him when Master's barbed dick slid into his bum, ravaging his insides and slapping his rear in pleasure, spurning him on like a horse. His anus twitched with every slap, wringing his Master's cock like a virgin. It would not be long till Master would blow his load and he would receive his praise for it.

It was a good life that he was living, really. Every now and then Mistress took him out to see the world, he was allowed to lick her in the evening and in exchange he had a nice basket right next to her bed. He received a healthy mixture of milk and cum every day and meat on special occasions. Dick meat, that was, when Master allowed him to suck him off directly. He was happy.

"What a good pet you are, my sweetie", Mistress murmured after she had recuperated from her orgasm. "It was a wonderful idea to keep you as a pet after that shock you had from loosing your genitals. And you have been a good boy ever since, haven't you?"

When she reached down to pet him, he pressed his head into her hand, purring loudly.

"Yes, yes, I know. Such a good little pet you are. Even though you made naughty pictures of me. But never mind. I have something for you."

Mistress Theresa reached over to her nightstand and unwrapped a parcel. "It came this morning, I had it made for you." Something gleamed between her fingers and caught the light several times more before she reached down and fastened it around his neck.

Then she led him to the mirror to have him marvel at his new, diamond lined collar with a large paw shaped pendant that dangled from it. "There", she said, turning it so he could read it. "It even has your name on it, see? Puss E." A girlish giggle escaped her throat. "My little pussycat. Deserves a Darwin Award after spectacularly managing to castrate himself while spying on me."

Puss E. Marveled himself in the mirror. The diamond and silver stood out nicely from his black and white fur and Mistress was satisfied with him.

Life was good.

Credits

Special Thanks to:

• Mayfryn who made the first pledge on 27. April 2018
• Brandon who made the first pledge on 30. April 2018