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Prologue

He was just a kitten at the time. Y'know, curious as one can get, always getting into trouble. Pretty much an average, every day, run of the mill, feline boy! Of course, his home life wasn't exactly what one would call "pristine" or even "normal." And, no, in case you're wondering there was nothing untoward or just blatantly fucked up going on (yet). There was only the slight problem of the tomcat's father. Sure, he had one, but he barely remembered the guy. He was rough, always drinking out of a can, and smelled like smoke. Our hero didn't like him.

The feelings were mutual. The hard-living biker cat had knocked up an office secretary not once, but twice. Over the course of many years, to boot. Each time he had come riding into town with his gang he came with the promises of settling down, of turning from his life of dubious legality, opening a shop fixing choppers. In essence, he said he was going to grow up--and not just for Nancy, but for his newborn children. Just not yet! Until he did come for good.

Victor was the youngest child, and when his father was around he was the baby. His mother doted on him as most new mothers do. Vic's sister was only in her terrible twos, so Nancy had not yet had enough time to adjust to the more judicious, reserved, parent that most kids are used to.

Vic did not mind this at all! But his father sure did. "You're coddling him!" He would shout on one drunken night or another. "He's going to be a fuckin' faggot!" That was another one of his favorite lines. But even though he had broken down and gotten married to Nancy that year (in Vegas of all places), he hadn't quit his hard-living lifestyle that had made him so appealing to begin with!

This did not sit will with the strong-willed feline. She was not used to the way he tried to take over her life, and she certainly did not appreciate the drunken rants of who she was rapidly finding to be a loser! There was a gap between the couple that never really closed, or really never even got close enough for a bridge to be formed. Nancy was miserable.

Max didn't give a fuck. And so, instead of sticking around any longer, he took off his ring and left town. And if Vic tried his hardest to remember, he always imagined the sound of his father's hog getting quieter and quieter as he drove away from the suburbs and back to his normal life.

Sure, sure, some would think of this as a sob-story. Oh no daddy ran out on his family! What an emo little child Vic must grow up to be! Well, all callousness aside, he was a rather despondent kitten. Nancy never did stop coddling him and it was not long before he earned the title "momma's boy" around school. He did his best not to let it get to him, but his slight (for his age) frame and his overall quiet demeanor meant that he was the target of nasty jokes more often than not. Naturally, this had a profound effect on the poor kitten, and he was left to hang out with his sister more often than not. At school she would have nothing to do with him. But at home, and on weekends, he was Janine's dutiful playmate. They shared tea, played house, the usual suspects one would imagine when thinking about an elementary-aged girl playing! Vic didn't know why, but he enjoyed these games. The armchair psychologists in the crowd may have imagined he enjoyed this because they mimicked a stable home life that he, with a missing father and a mother with a full-time career, lacked. Or maybe it was something deeper than all that. Vic sure as shit didn't know.

Time, as it is wont to do, moved on. Vic grew. He grew taller, but not necessarily thicker. The boy ran in cross country his freshman year and was pretty good. He still didn't talk to many people. His voice never seemed to crack, and it was a source of great embarrassment for the feline. He had also started to feel...different. Fundamentally different than his peers.

When the few friends he had would talk, they would talk of the girls they wanted to fuck. The porn that they spanked it to. Hell, the tits on Mrs. Johnson weren't off-limits! But he never really got that. Sure he mimicked them in an attempt to fit in, but between you and me they didn't really believe Vic's efforts. Still, for all that they were good to him. He was funny in his own way, making quiet observations about this or that which seemed to bring forth chuckles if not outright laughter.

Vic still hung around with his sister most of the time, however, and as she aged they had bonded well. They spoke openly to one another about sex and sexuality, and there weren't many secrets between them. He was slightly protective over her, as most brothers tend to be, even though he never expressed these feelings to Janine. Janine was a good girl just like her brother, though, so the issue was never raised. Both earned high marks and the favor of their teachers. In short, life was going okay--maybe even good--for the two siblings and their mom.

Chapter 1

The weekend started as it often did for Vic: Nancy was away on business, Janine was out with her friends (she, apparently, was not the victim of shyness that Victor was). Vic's buddies were off drinking or smoking or something. He didn't really know. Vic wasn't interested in that aspect of high school life. He didn't look down on his friends for it, but he did not think he would enjoy himself around so many strange people under the influence. Besides, the weekend was his time to play! He had precious little time to himself, and what had really cranked his shaft was something so embarrassing that, if caught, he thought he would die from it. Something so secret he dare not even tell Janine about it!

It all started innocently enough. Actually, that is a complete and utter fabrication, it was not innocent in nature. Not even a little bit. Ahhh the glory of internet porn. Only in this day and age can one type whatever they think is exciting into a search bar and get not one, not ten, but hundreds of different sites all catering to this little kink. Denial is not just a river in Egypt, as the saying goes. And in Victor it was a very powerful force determining most of his personality! But when he first stumbled upon bisexual porn, he was enthralled. And, like a gateway drug, he found himself going deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. Gradually, he started to look more keenly at sites that had the word "fetish" thrown in somewhere. He glossed over the BDSM categories, thinking they were still too racy for him, and never really registered the foot and smoking sections. He was looking for something very specific. Vic would never forget the first time he had seen it--a grainy, amateur, video of dubious origin that had been procured from one of the many avenues of porn acquisition. Victor was very glad that his computer was in his room where he could download things without fear of being caught.

The audio was a bit muffled but there was no background music to wash out what was being said. Sometimes he just closed his eyes and listened. The unidentified female could be heard murmuring in a husky tone, leaning over her lover, "Do you want it, baby? I'm gonna make you mine tonight!" A staccato slap could be heard as she brought her paw down against the poor puma's exposed rumpcheek.

The boy groaned and adjusted his stance. He was bent over the bed, and more than that, what had made the thing so utterly erotic for Victor was what he was wearing. Puma-boy had on a skirt that barely, barely, covered his ass. It was a costume, too, a maid's outfit. Fluffy and lacy and slutty as hell. He had on slutty fishnets and tall, fuck-me, heels. Even his hair had been done up, long and curly, cascading down his back. If he hadn't have moaned so deeply, one could probably mistake him for a girl!

The video continued, with the woman speaking, "That's right, Kelly, push back against my cock. Let me see how hungry for it you are..." It never took long for Victor to lose it after that. The shock of a boy dressing in drag and the powerful, thick, woman taking control almost always sent him over the edge before she even gave it to him! It was a rare occasion indeed when he'd make it to the end of that video. In fact, Victor liked this video so much, he could even masturbate in the shower thinking only of it and climax nearly as rapidly as when he actually viewed it!

And, as these things go, Victor got more and more interested in transvestism. He thought that maybe, just maybe, it would cure the nagging part of his brain that kept telling him how different he was. And that he could still make love to girls, and still be straight, even if he liked to wear girl's clothing from time to time. Really, he actually thought all this was true. Truth be told, Vic was so far in the closet Mister Tumnus was fucking him in his house in Narnia! Still, the thought had taken root and had begun to sprout. He was about the same size as his sister, except a lot less endowed in the chest department, and most of the time on the weekend he had alone. So it began that he would nick her clean panties from the laundry and saunter around for a Saturday with some lace clinging to his nethers. Throughout this time, he'd have a painfully hard erection that would struggle to push past the elastic of his sister's briefs. Every time he did this he'd watch the video. And every time he would cum hard in his sister's panties. And that was it. He'd take them off, wash them, and then when sis and mom got home nobody would be the wiser.

This worked for a month, maybe longer, but soon Vic was cruising TV sites regularly. He had become almost infatuated with female domination, and he relished every story and personal account he came across that detailed wearing sexy, feminine, clothing. How good the tights felt over his legs. How sexy he felt shaking his ass in a miniskirt. Vic ate it all up! Nobody knew about his secret desires, least of all his family! He began to get more daring in his panty-raids, plucking a full outfit from the pile of clean clothes when he was able. The first time he did this he closed his eyes and just luxuriated in it. This was right, he knew it. This was something that was as much a part of him as breathing or eating. And, that first time, the thought terrified him. To be this way, he thought, was to be a freak. A deviant. The word "fetish" burned across his consciousness and left a bad taste in his muzzle. His cock, on the other hand, had no issues at all with this scenario. Something that made his cheeks tinge red and his ears lay back against his head. The feline was torn. One part wanted to get out of this ridiculous getup and never think about this again. But another part, rapidly growing in strength, said that he should do this whenever he was able. Again, that grainy video played a big part in his decision-making process. He had graduated, however, to more professional and indeed more extreme female domination. Hardcore fucking was de rigeur. Some of the videos featured a cuckolded male being forced to eat the seed of another man from his wife's cunny. This really got to him. The more he watched these videos, the more he realized that he liked the idea of being on the receiving end of things. And being forced to eat a girl out was something he didn't know if he could do. Which only meant the fantasy of being forced into the situation was more erotic. And so, he would watch these movies wearing his sister's clothing, and have the most powerful orgasm of the week. He wondered if, maybe, he should get some of his own clothes sometime.