You’re Kitten Me – Joe Satoria

I’d seen him looking at me. The tall one. They were usually in here as a couple. A pair. And I was always jealous of what they had. The fact that two gay men could be together, and then come here, scouting for a third. I’d seen the other boys, in all their cute kitten play gear, the leather, the fur, they flocked to the couple like they held some magical secret. They did. It was experience. I was nineteen. I didn’t know much about life. I’d only just moved out of the family home, and that was to go to university. I was considered independent since I was living in a university dorm. One of those floors where you live with twelve other people. At least I had an en-suite in my room.


I’d been coming here since it opened at the end of August. It was now December. I’d told myself I wouldn’t be like everyone else; I wouldn’t go over to them. Men came to me, always. Tall men. Short men. Big men. Small men. I wasn’t picky. If a man had the nerve to come up into a kitten play club dressed in something semi-formal, and then come to me, they had my undivided attention. I was a good kitten. I was nice to people who were nice to me. “I’m going to speak to him,” Yan said, one of my only friends who did this with me. Yan was tall, a red head, he played up to the colouring like he was a calico cat. We were standing by a table.

Someone had already bought me one of the signature banana milkshakes. They didn’t sell alcohol here. The place was incredibly cute, it was located above an actual cat cafe in the centre of Manchester city. There were neon lights plastered all around the room. Pinks, yellows, and blues. And a low strum of a thumping music too. It gave you all the feelings of an exclusive night club, without the hangover. It did not stop people from drinking, in fact, this is where I learned about white Russians, a cocktail made with milk and vodka, but apparently not milkshakes. It was an off-brand version. “I’m going to take a couple pics to post to my Insta story,” I told him. This lighting was perfect. I had a secret Instagram account solely for my kitten stuff. I’d tried to get my brother to come with me as well, but that was a nonstarter. He had a longterm boyfriend. But it was times like this, when Yan skittered off to make friends with one of the nice men in suits, that I needed someone to stay back and take pictures of me while I waited for someone to come and sweep me off my feet.

Tonight, I was in all black. A cat ear headband, and collar. I also had black eyeliner, and I’d dusted my face with a nice helping of pink highlighter. I’d come here in a long trench coat, they hide everything. Nobody could see anything I was wearing beneath one of those. I had a crop-top on, and above it, a black harness. Since it was winter, I needed to wear layers. A pair of skin-tight shorts. Thigh-high sports socks, and a pair of boots. “Looking to come home with me tonight, Kit?” a familiar voice pulled me from admiring myself in my camera. “Serg,” I grumbled. “Sergio,” he said. “Serg.” I placed my phone on the table. “No.

I’m not going home with you again. You didn’t do anything I liked. It was all about you.” Sergio was one of the suited businessmen, or perhaps just suited. I didn’t know much about him; except he was selfish in bed. He wanted all the pleasure for himself, and that’s not right. It was only fair to share the pleasure. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said. “We slept together twice. I thought you had a fun time.” His hand touched mine on the table. “No,” I said. “You were just average. In fact, I’d say your friend, Colin, was much better than you.” I nodded to his friend at the bar.

“Tell him thanks for the milkshake. But I’m not interested in either of you tonight. You should probably try someone else.” Sergio clicked his tongue. “The offer stands, Kit,” he said. “If you haven’t found anyone before this place closes, you know you have a spot in my bed.” And while I loved to sleep anywhere that wasn’t my single bed in the university residence building, I also didn’t want to share a bed with someone I knew would finish on me then sleep. I was a good kitten. I deserved more than that. I deserved to finish too. As Sergio left the table. I took the straw from the milkshake glass and sucked hard. There was a direct hit of vodka. I should’ve stirred it again before going in for the sip. “I think he’s been around every boy in this club,” a rough voice spoke from behind me.

I flinched, turning to it. “Hi.” In the glow of the neon against his face, I knew that face. A face I’d fantasied being between my legs. But seeing it up close. I almost lost my balance against the table. “I’m Dane,” he said. “I’ve seen you here before.” He was part of the couple. The couple who are always looking for a third, it seems. Or at least, the couple that everyone is constantly throwing themselves at. “I’m Kit,” I told him. “Not short for Kitten, but Kit. Guess it was fate.” He smiled.

Looking me over. He licked his lips. “I’m sure you use that line on everyone,” he said. I rolled my eyes. I kept my bank card and my provisional driving license slipped inside the pocket of my shorts. “Here,” I said, sliding my I.D. across the table to him. “It’s what my mama gave me.” He nodded, looking the I.D. over in his hand. He placed it back on the table. “Guess you’re not lying.” “Why would I lie about that?” I asked.

“People will do anything to be more interesting,” he said, the warm gaze of his eyes looking over me, and then back to my face. “Like you?” I continued. “You’re usually attached at the hip with some guy.” “My fiancé,” he said. “Ash is around here, somewhere.” “Fancy,” I grumbled back. “So, you are looking for a third then?” Dane chuckled. “Sometimes, we’re looking for a third to share our king size bed with. But not all the time, we just like to—” “Then, why do you hang around here?” I looked him over in the same why he looked at me. He wore a dark blazer and a shirt with the top buttons undone. “Because we’re looking to adopt,” he offered back with a smile. I rolled my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you can adopt already.” “No, no,” he chuckled. “A kitten.

And no, not one of those kittens.” Oh. They were looking to adopt a boy, someone who liked to dress up, someone who liked to feel themselves out as something else. That was one of my favourite pastimes. “How many have you adopted before?” I asked. He reached out, his hand touching mine. “Only a few,” he said. “They never last. We’ve done this before. Not that often, but in the past, a couple times, we’ve had a couple of very exciting experiences. And we like to share those experiences.” “I’m sure there are people out here who would love to share those experiences with you,” I said. I wasn’t easy. It didn’t matter what people said, I wasn’t easy, and these people weren’t going to make that a fact. But Sergio had just been over, and I was sure he was watching me speak with Dane.

“But maybe you want to give me your number.” “Give you my number?” he chuckled. “Why? So you can write it on the bathroom stalls?” He brows picked up on his forehead. “If you don’t want to try something new. You can just say that.” That wasn’t exactly the case. I told myself, I didn’t approach guys. They approached me. I also didn’t go home with them at the first sign that they wanted me to go home with them. I knew better than that. I had a cute exterior, but there was half a brain beneath it. And that brain told me never to go home with a guy after he gives you one compliment. “No,” I told him. “But I need to make sure someone has your number in case I go missing.” “Aw, you found one,” a voice cooed.

Dane’s partner, Ash appeared at his side, he hugged a hand around Dane’s waist. They were both in similar outfits, and almost looking the same in this light. That was the gay couple phenomenon, when two gay men get together, but they look similar, almost like they’re playing a game of boyfriends or brothers. “Oh. We’ve seen you around.” “I’ve seen you—both—as well,” I said, my eyes looking back and forth between the two of them. “Are you coming home with us tonight?” he asked. His eyes were intense in the glowing neon light. I shook my head. “I don’t just go home with people I meet once,” I told them. It was a lie, but in the moment, I felt good for saying that. Dane fished a hand inside his jacket. “Here’s my card. This is my mobile. You should text us.

” Ash clicked his tongue. “That’s disappointing,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow?” I didn’t know what to say. It was the weekend. Anything could happe

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Updated: 14 January 2022 — 11:20

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