As yet thou hast no name. Or rather, she calls thee Michael, but such name doesn't fit thy greatness. At least a Sir should be in order. All thou rememberest is that thou wast miaowing in a dampish dark place when, for the first time, thou sawst a zombie. This zombie, thou heardst afterwards, was a member of the most ferocious human species; a vtuber, one of those perverts who, in return for money, pretend to be cringe anime characters on the internet.

But that was a long time ago. Thou gottest used to living in this shack with this 'Ollie' woman. She feeds thee (not the premium sashimi thou deservest, but good enough), gives thee a confortable shelter (not the cardboard box thou yearnest for, but good enough) and sometimes thou even allowest her the pleasure of petting you. 

Now, thou wakest up beside her. Thou freest thyself from her arms and groom thy fur. It's salty, her plentiful summer sweat sticked to thy body during the nap. The wetness feels disgusting, but the taste is not too bad. It's quite good actually. After thou art done with thy bath, thou startest licking the salt out of her skin. The taste is sharper and even better than thou expectedst, thy rough tongue scratches against her soft skin, tangling between the peach fuzz on her arms. It's odd to thee how these animals have bodies as bald as kettles instead of decorated with hair. 

Thou avoidest the annoying stitches and goes on the rest of her body. Her shoulders, her stomach, her legs, her feet. Thou triest to bury thy face in her armpits, thy nostrils twitch with each sniff, happy to smell that bittersweet, slightly sour, fragrance. She is still asleep when thou catchest a whiff in the air and art attracted to her crotch. Thou creepest under her skirt and facest the bandages around her waist. The pungency is coming from there, thou feelest a warmth in thy core and is temptedst to bit the fabric, then slowly pull it away. A red and grey bush was hidden under it, so these humans do have hair outside of their heads. From the smell, thou knowest it wasn't groomed recently, so thou dost the job, licking it thoroughly. Ollie moans in her dreams.

Thou leavest her skirt unsure of what to do with this hotness bothering thee. Thou walkest over her chest and she wakes up, looks at thee with half open eyes. Thou beginnest kneading her stomach, thy claws scratches against her skin and thy bottom reacts, thy penis grows erect, thou wantest to rub it against something. Thou changest positions and while still moving thy paws, thou fuckest her wagina. Ollie doesn't seem to notice, or care; her watching eyes excite thee greatly. It doesn't take long stroking against her skin for thy tiny cock to bust over her arm. Thou goest to her face and rubbest thy cheek against hers.

Ollie looks at her arm and sees what thou hast done. She jumps angry from the bed, throwing thee on the ground. After leaving the room and coming back, she grabs the skin on thy nape and puts thee in a cage despite thy fighting and meowing. Car. A White room. Bright lights. Someone holds thee firmly and thou feelest a piercing pain on thy bottoms. Thou canst not move. A blue plastic sheet is over thee. 

You don't remember much after, but then you were back in the cage. Then the car. Then home. An annoying cone is around your neck. You can't remove it. You meow to Ollie but she doesn't do anything about it. You feel a itch close to your behinds. You look at your belly.

where are my balls ollie

Thou art a cat.