I had been laying on the carpeted floor, next to the couch, and Master had been stroking my bare skin with his feet, and I had fallen asleep.
Now, Master was gone and the slanting afternoon light was warming me and getting in my eyes.
I stretch my best kitty stretch even though no one is looking. I feel grateful for the knee pads as I make my way through the house, searching for Master. I feel a little sad that my ears are just pretend -- I'd be able to hear where he was if my hearing were as good as a real cat's -- and that my nose isn't as keen as a real cat's nose. I am also wishing that my cat tail could move the way a real cat's does, I'd make it stand straight up in that way that says, "Hi, I like you." But it's still a good tail; the butt plug at the base shifts deliciously as I walk, waking me up a bit more, making me feel a bit more. . . like an animal.
"Mew?" I say as I nudge the door open to the study. No Master.
"Prrrrip?" I ask as I check in the bedroom. No Master.
I wander back down the hall, through the dining room and into the kitchen. There he is! My whole body feels electrified at the sight of this person I love.
"Meow!" I declare as I rub against his trouser leg.
He looks down at me and smiles.
"Hi, Kitty. You hungry after that catnap?"
"Purrrr," I reply, and reach up with my front paws to his chest and stretch again. I could eat. Or I could do something else. I rub against his crotch.
"Oh, you're a different kind of hungry, are you?" Master says indulgently. I nod my head, which is still buried with my nose on the zipper. I can feel him starting to respond physically.
He pets me with both hands, running through my hair, over my neck and shoulders.
"Well, every good kitty should get what she wants for supper," Master says, holding the back of my head and pressing my face against him.
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