Chapter 24
Rick had been gone for quite a while when, out in the hall, Crowe heard female giggles and a man laughing. The door clicked and opened to reveal Rick with his arms around a couple of tipsy women.
“Here we are, ladies. It’s not the presidential suite, as you can see.”
“As long as the bed is sturdy,” one of them said as she tossed her ample self onto it and bounced. The other one, a middle-aged, mousy-looking woman, walked around to the other side, tumbled onto the mattress, and patted the empty spot in the middle. Then they both giggled again.
“Oh, look! A kitty. How sweet,” said the librarian look-alike.
The other one pointed to the Louis Vuitton bag beside Crowe. “Hey, who does that belong to?”
“Aw, just some rich bitch. A guy’s gotta eat, you know.”
They all laughed again.
“So, are you saying that you’re a gigolo?”
“Hey, if the thong fits…”
“I’ll bet it does.” They laughed like hyenas after that.
He grinned and began unbuttoning his white pirate shirt. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
If he continued to be this clever, Crowe would gag again. How dare he talk about Joell that way? He was just using her! Crowe hissed at him.
“So, are we expected to pay you back for this fun we’re about to have?”
“Not unless you’d like to put in a good word with the judges…”
The sturdy one said, “We are the judges!”
“Really?” Rick gasped, but I didn’t buy it for a second. “I honestly had no idea. I just thought you were a couple of hot mamas.” The women laughed and giggled some more.
From the looks of things, he’d use anyone who’d fall for his baloney.
“Doesn’t your lady friend mind you fucking other women?”
“She won’t mind if she doesn’t know.”
“How long will she be gone?”
“I’ll have plenty of time to satisfy you both thoroughly,” Rick said in a smarmy way. “Don’t worry. Maybe if you like my services and can provide equal enticements, one of you can take me home. Someone has to rescue me from that she-devil.”
More giggles from them. More hisses from Crowe.
“So, are we going to have to fuck in front of her cat?”
He grabbed Crowe by the scruff of the neck, opened the closet door, and tossed him inside. He’d only had a chance to let out one loud yowl of protest when Rick shut the door in his face.
Sex was something incredibly mysterious to Crowe.
Such joy and bliss transform a human face from agony before to blessed relief and peace after climax.
It’s as if they visit some spiritual place that rejuvenates them like a spa for their spirits.
The French call an orgasm the “little death”.
Perhaps it’s meant to be a moment in heaven.
It sure looked like it to Crowe, but he wouldn’t know. He could only live it vicariously.
Crowe’s dearest wish was to someday screw the shit out of some wanton, willing feline. The only problem was the witches’ concern about cat overpopulation. Why don’t they invent pet birth control? Until they do, humans will have all the fun. At least she hadn’t cut off his balls!
“Now, if you ladies want to practice judging,” Rick said, “I’ll let you have a good, long look. Just imagine some music in the background.”
One of the drunken bimbos on the bed began da-da-da-da-ing the theme from seventies stripper music.
Crowe was only a kitten in his second life then, but fucking still fascinated him.
Some might remember it as shaving cream music.
It had the same effect. The other woman called out, “Take it off! Take it all off!”
So, there he pouted, in a dark closet, next to smelly shoes, forced to listen to bad jokes, bad music, giggles, slurping sounds, and plenty of moaning.
It was bad enough that Rick treated him rotten, but to do what he was doing to women, especially Joell!
Bastard! Crowe vowed, When I get out of here, I’m going to sharpen my claws on his face.
This orgy went on until both women had screamed out a couple of impressive climaxes.
Crowe could tell they were real, especially since one of the women was a talker.
She moaned and said in a breathy voice, “Oh, that feels so good. I love your big, hard cock inside me. Plow me! Pound me with your big, fucking cock.” Then she screamed, “Deeper, harder, deeper. Oh yes! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, you bad boy!”
Crowe heard Rick’s breathless voice say, “I’m about to come. I want to pull out and come all over your friend’s face.”
More giggles, then shrieks and laughter.
It wasn’t difficult for Crowe to imagine the scene.
He had to find a way to tell Joell since she seemed smitten. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t stand him. She seemed to really like him. Crowe couldn’t just sit by and let her get hurt. But how to communicate something so complicated?
Finally, the women were ready to leave. A slap sounded on someone’s ass. Crowe thought it was Rick’s. That was followed by a lot more giggling. Crowe hoped it hurt. What a douche-nozzle. He already didn’t like him, but when he made his next phone call, Crowe was livid.
“Did you get them out of there before she came back?” After a brief pause, he cried. “No? I gave you plenty of lead time. You were supposed to get the models into a van and take off.”
After another pause, he said, “I didn’t call them. I told her I would, but I just pretended to. So, the K-9 unit showed up? When?” He swore under his breath. “Well, I did my part, now I’m outta here before they figure out which side I’m on.”
The door slammed, and there was absolutely nothing Crowe could do, so he curled up and took a nap.
“Crowe? Where are you, baby? Did you hear the news?”
Joell’s voice! At last! Would she find him in the closet? Crowe meowed his loudest until she opened the door, and he jumped into her arms.
“How’d you get into the closet? Oh well, never mind. I’m just so happy, I had to tell you first, Crowe… We got ’em!” She held him high over her head and whirled in place. Please stop, Wonder Witch. Don’t make me lose my lunch too!
“I thought Rick would be here, but he must be downstairs. Let’s go find him!”
Should he tell her? Could he tell her?
She set him down and peered into the mirror, checking her hair and makeup. She looked gorgeous, of course. She always did.
How could he let a louse like Rick Torres take advantage of her? Rick’s a dirty cop and doesn’t deserve her. He could never love her the way she deserves to be loved. Completely. Unconditionally. Like I love her.
It sort of hit him like a lightning bolt. He didn’t have a choice. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to do, but he loved her enough to try. The problem was he didn’t have much time to think it over.
There was only one way to tell her everything he knew and at the same time show her all the love in his heart, but it was so drastic.
He’d have to give up his role as her familiar.
And if he did that, there was no guarantee she’d want him in her life in any other role.
He could only shift once. What’s it going to be, Crowe?
“I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She hummed her way to the bathroom and closed the door.
Think, man, think! At that moment, he had his answer.
He wanted to be a man. Her man. He didn’t know if he could truly make that happen or not.
He’d been told at an early age that familiars were shifters but had also been warned that taking his other form would be permanent, and he’d have no more lives after that.
He’d be a regular mortal. Crowe had always been so happy as a witch’s familiar; he’d almost forgotten about the possible alternative. It was a risk he’d have to take.
He jumped onto the bed and concentrated on his wish.
The Goddess would only grant his request if his motives were pure and he wanted it with all his heart.
He didn’t really have time to examine those things, so he just went off the assumption that if anything were wrong with his spiritual desire or motivation, it wouldn’t happen. He’d stay a cat.
Concentrate, Crowe. Give it all you’ve got.
He took several deep, slow breaths and closed his eyes. He reached out with his mind to the powers of the universe and tried to elevate his consciousness to the necessary level. When he felt as if he had made the connection, he recited something he thought she’d say if she were in his predicament.
My dearest wish, my greatest hope, is to be a man—a good man.
As I set forth this desire, I feel your love drawn to me.
I will not cease trying to help my witch and ask this to help her more.
I call upon all good spirits and divinities that care about the world and its creatures to help my witch in the best possible way. So mote it be.
A strange sensation came over him. It was a heady feeling. Sharp pain shot through him, and he fell onto his side. Oh, Gods! It felt as if my body was pulling apart, and I’d be ripped in half. Why did I wish this without asking the powers-that-be to make the transition gentle and pain-free, please?
Just as he thought his skin would split, everything inside relaxed, and his body stretched like he was made of rubber. The pulling began in his torso and stretched up to the top of his head and down to his paws… Wait, feet. I had feet!
Crowe sat up on the bed and looked down. He had feet all right, and muscular calves, strong knees, and powerful thighs with only a light covering of short, dark hair. And, whoa! A thatch of black curly hair with a massive shaft sticking out of it! Nice! Thank you, Divine ones!
He wanted to see the rest of his body in a mirror but didn’t have a chance to get up and try his legs before the bathroom door opened. Joell stepped out. When she looked over and saw him, she jumped backward and drew her weapon from inside her boot, aiming it at him.
“Who the hell are you, and how did you get in?”