Belling the Cats, or, Tatsu Tames the Twelve

Posted by C on June 12, 2001 at 18:49:17:

Belling the Cats, or,
Tatsu Tames the Twelve

By C

Part I

It was noon in Tatsu`s Garden, and in a clearing in the midst of the rhododendrons, an urgent meeting had been called. Basilissa, the most influential of the Plump-Bottomed Warblers, had summoned all her sistersand such was her prestige that hundreds had come. Most sat around her on the grass, their legs demurely crossed. Ordinarily, they might have savored the cool dampness against their nether parts; but their anxiety crowded all pleasure from their minds. At the cost of great effort, a masking spell had been placed around the clearing. Would it hold? And would Basilissa tell them anything to banish the terror that plagued them?

When she decided the time was right, Basilissa climbed up on a large stone in the middle of the clearing. Like all her confederates, she was beautiful, with long hair, as black as the deepest night, reaching down to her waist, and a matching semi-diamond of black adorning her groin. Her skin was pale; her lips were bright red; her breasts, thighs, and hips were full and achingly curvaceous. She wore a long-sleeved, waist-length tunic of cerulean, with high heels of the same shadeand nothing more. (Warblers were inordinately proud of their pussies, and so they reveled in showing them off to the world. This vanity cost them dearly, for it was not hard for predators to catch their scentand then catch them!) It took just a few moments for the assembled fays to become quiet and attentive. Confident that everyone would listen closely, Basilissa spoke.

"My sisters! Much that I say tonight will hardly be news. You all remember how we were captured and brought to this gardenthis Eden rather, with everything a fay could desire: delicious flowers of every description; a gentle climate; and the softest mosses and grassesjust the thing for amorous repose!" (Here several in the audience laughed.) "You remember as well our terrible, heartbreaking discovery: that blight upon the garden; that canker gnawing at Eden. You remember when we first encountered . . . the cats." (At this, many drew in their breath sharply. None of them cared to say or hear the word "cat.")

"Yes, those loathsome harem cats, those five terrible sons and their ghastly mother! On that first day they took six of us, as well as six Brook Nymphs; and they have taken six of each species every day since. All this you know."

"What you may not know is that we are not reproducing fast enough. We thrust our tongues into each others` pussies with commendable alacrity, but it makes little difference. It seems the anxiety that torments us all has somehow made us less fertile. Fewer and fewer of our eggs are hatching." (This statement was met with gasps of horror.) "Yes, we are failing to fulfil our foremost duty: to fill the world with Plump-Bottomed Warblers. Instead, if present trends continue, our lineages will soon disappear." ("Say it isn`t so!" someone shouted.)

Basilissa motioned for silence, then continued. "Even if we were not confronted with a reproductive crisis, the scourge of the harem cats demands some response, some action. That scourge is even worse than you may think." She turned now to a Warbler standing a few paces behind her: a redhead, even more buxom than the Warbler norm, dressed in pale green. "Hostia, tell them what you`ve discovered."

Hostia curtseyed and stepped forward. "Ahem," she said. "I`m . . . Hostia, Basilissa`s personal assistant. And I`ve seen . . . I`ve seen the place . . . . " The girl then lost her composure, and her breasts and lower lip began to tremble visibly.

"Would you spit it out?" someone shouted. "Let her talk!" snapped Basilissa.

"I`ve seen the place where they take their victims!" Hostia cried. (More gasping from the audience.) She rushed on. "They always line up the Brook Nymphs they catch . . . right by the water (you`ve all seen that); but our girlsnobody could figure out where they take them. Well, I was there! It`s a clearing in the pine wood to the north! I saw it! You all know how they
p-pounce out of nowhere; how they like to go for the b-breasts. Then they c-carry the girls off. But what happens after that? Well, they take them to this clearing . . . and they line them up in a row. When I found the place . . . there they were: six girls. I hid behind a tree . . . I wanted to run, but I had to watch! Well, there the girls were . . . on their backs . . . there was blood on their tunics. And then it was just like the Brook Nymphs: they . . . nipped them . . . nipped them . . . on their p-pussies!" ("No! No!" several in the audience cried. More than one covered her groin protectively with her hands. Brook Nymphs were one thing; but these were Warbler pussies that had been violated.) "Yes . . . that`s what they did. And the girls screamed, and cried, and begged: 'Please don`t hurt us!` they said, 'Oh dear God please!` . . . but they just . . . nipped them again . . . and again. And the girls were bleeding . . . and kicking. (I`ve never seen so much kicking!) Then . . . then, they licked them . . . with their big hurty tongues! Soon they were spurting honey! And they kept licking them . . . until . . . until they were still."

The fays just looked at Hostia in horrified silence. She spoke again. "So . . . I`m h-here to tell you exactly what happened. And something else, that I think is more important: I think they figured out . . . that I was there, 'cause it seemed . . . that they got inside my head. And the mother cat seemed to say: 'Later, pretty redhead, later. You`ll know the day . . . when you get a tingly feeling . . . at the bottom of your tummy. I`m all set for today, but I really want to taste your little red slice of pie . . . and I will, on the day you get all . . . t-tingly. That`s the sign . . . that my kind and yours are about to get acquainted.` That`s what she seemed to say. So I think
. . . if they can talk to us in our thoughts, maybe they can read our thoughts, too. That could explain a lot: how they always find us--always. And how it`s always six each day . . . who get kicky." (This was a fairy euphemism for being captured.)

"And one more thing." I w-woke up this morning . . . and . . . my tummy was tingling! And my knees were all weak. And my breasts were sore. And my . . . my pussy . . . was honey-damp! And I`ve been like this all day long. And I`ve a notion . . . that another five . . . are feeling the same way!" Hostia fell now into a fit of helpless sobbing. Basilissa took her gently in her arms and made her sit down. Five other girls had begun to sob as well, and would not be comforted.

"Well," said Basilissa, "there you have it. "These . . . creatures seem to have powers such as we`d never have guessed. And the way they dispatch their poor victims! Something must be done!"

At these words, Martina, another influential Warbler and an imperious blonde beauty in red, stood up. "What can be done?" she asked. "And even if something can be done, suppose they really do read our minds. Can`t they foil anything we come up with?"

"Maybe," said Basilissa. "Maybe not. As soon as Hostia gave me her disturbing news, I shielded my thoughts with the strongest masking spell I knew. I didn`t bother going to the Brook Nymphs; you know how rude mermaids are! Instead, I quickly went to all the other Warblers whose magical talents are comparable to mine (there are ten of them)." (She nodded to a group of fays who stood a short distance behind her.) "They masked their thoughts, just as I had mine. Then, in concert, we formed a plan and have already gone far towards implementing it. We soon realized, however, that we alone do not have the energy to consummate this plan. We need every one of you. So that`s why I summoned you all. At a terrible cost in energy to the eleven of us, we have made you invisible to outsiders; what`s more, we have masked your thoughts, your sounds, and (perhaps most important) your scentall so that we might meet in relative safety."

"Enough build-up!" said Martina. "What is this plan?"

"I`m sorry to say we can`t destroy the harem cats," said Basilissa. "We`re just not strong enough. But, with your help, we can hex them in such a way that we`ll always be warned of their approach. We`ll hear a loud noisesomething like a sirenwell before they can pounce. The hex will also allow each girl to mask her thoughtsnothing elsewhen the time comes to lay her eggs." (Warblers were very nearly helpless when laying, so a siren then would do them little good.)

"And that`s all we can do?" asked Martina.

"I`m afraid so."

"Well, it`s better than what we`ve done so far, which is nothing. Tell us how to make it happen."

"All of you raise your arms toward the sky," said Basilissa. They did so. Then she began to intone the charm on which she and the others had worked:

"Harem kitties, strong and slick,

No more will you make us kick.

When a sneaky cat comes near,

A siren`s scream will rend the ear.

Warblers` tears are turned to mirth;

Harem cats bite down on . . . earth.

Harem kitties, strong and slick,

No more will you make us kick."

When she had finished, Martina spoke again. "When will this go into effect?"

"Sadly, it may take a few days. I`m sorry, Hostia." (Hostia just kept on weeping.)

"Chock-full of good news today, aren`t you?" said Martina. "I have another question."

"Now there`s a surprise," said Basilissa. "What do you want to know?"

"What about that gardener?"

"The mopy-looking old man?"

"Exactly. He seems to be allied with the harem cats."

"What of it? He doesn`t appear to be very bright, and he`s certainly not fast enough to catch any of us on his own. Let`s concentrate on what should really worry us."

"I just don`t like loose ends," said Martina. She looked unhappy, but she left it at that.

It was now time for the meeting to disperse. The eleven had done their job too well. The harem cats had scanned the area with their powerful sensesboth natural and supernatural. The complete absence of any spooreven a residue from previous weekspuzzled them at first. At last, they divined what must be up. When the fays stepped out from their protective cover, six hungry kitties were waiting. Hostia got very kicky, as did the five girls who had wept along with her.

Part II

It took three days. Eighteen fairies cried their hearts out in the pine wood. At last, on the fourth day, came proof that the hex worked. Two Warblers were dallying by the daffodils when a horrible Wheeee . . . eeee . . . eeee . . . wheeee . . . eeee . . . eeee! assailed their ears. They leapt up and dashed off. When they risked looking behind them, they saw two boy-cats standing right where they had been. The girls had never seen frustration on the face of a cat before. The alarm sounded several more times that dayand each time it gave one or more fays the chance to escape.

Amazingly, an entire week went by without a single girl getting kicky. The effect on the fays was almost miraculous. Their anxiety by no means disappeared; but it no longer weighed so heavily on them. Their thoughts turned much more readily now to loveand they sated their desires in a more relaxed and leisurely way. Soon a record number of Warblers were ready to drop their eggs. Now, when you heard a girl groaning or whimpering in the garden, it was most likely the cramps that accompanied egg-laying, not the teeth of a cat, that pained.her. And everyone was confident that most of these eggs would hatch.

A month went byand only five girls were caughtall of these while laying. The eleven who had engineered the hex decided to celebrate with an afternoon party by the brook. Basilissa invited Martina (the two had been seeing a lot of each other lately). When Martina showed up, the others were already there, seated on smooth stones by the water`s edge. Basilissa embraced Martina warmly, kissed her on the lips, and introduced her to the rest of the group. They all noted with great amusement that every one of them had a swollen belly. "I think we`ll all drop about the same time," said Basilissa.

They sat down and dug into a picnic of assorted blossoms. The conversation was light and full of good cheer, with many jokes at the expense of the hapless harem cats. Then the siren sounded. "Ugghhh!" said Martina, "this could get really tiresome." Though a little more sluggish then usual, they darted off at a good clip. They were approaching the petunias, when the siren sounded again. They turned and ran off in a new direction. They were about to pause by the chrysanthemums to catch their breathwhen again they heard that terrible noise! Off they dashed in yet another direction. And again they heard: Wheeee . . . eeee . . . wheee . . . eeee!

And so it went. Because they could not stop to rest, their breath grew ragged and they began to stumble and stagger. If that weren`t bad enough, there seemed to be some vicious method to the sirens` madness. The girls were being herded gradually toward a big patch of ferns. What awaited them there? Soon they reached the fern-patch, only to hear the siren right behind them. It might be a trick . . . but what if it weren`t? They ran in among the green stalks.

They emerged in a gully with high, rocky sides. It was choked at the other end with dirt, stones, and old branches. The only way out was back through the ferns. If they couldn`t escape that way, they were trapped. And something was coming! Fern stalks rustled; a few snapped. Then something fell loudly to the ground. "Christ in freakin` sidecar!" said a strange voice. Whatever it was, it couldn`t be a harem cat. Nonetheless, the girls were terrified. Their bodies trembled; their big breasts heaved; several bladders suddenly emptied. More snapping and rustling, and then something stepped into the gully. The girls screamed and hugged one another in desperate embraces. It appeared to be . . . an elderly East Asian man, dressed in jeans, workshirt, and a baseball cap! The really strange thing about him was his size: he was only a foot tall, no larger than a Warbler.

"Ha ha!" he said. "Caught with pants down'cept you got no pants! If you had pants, would for sure be down! I making sense?"

"Not really," said Basilissa. "Who are you, you strange little man?"

"Not recognize? Now Tatsu`s feelings hurt."

"You`re . . . you`re that dopey gardener!" said another girl, a foxy ash-blonde in blue. "Except that now, you`re really small!"

"You a sharp one," said Tatsu. "Well, no one say fay have to be rocket scientist."

"Well, what do you want?" said Martina.

"Want to clean bad apples out of garden," said Tatsu. Then he snapped a finger and something appeared in his right hand. It was a cassette tape player, miniaturized just like the man who held it. He pushed a button on the tape player, and the gulch was filled with the terrible "Wheeee . . . eeee . . . wheeee . . . eeee!" of the cat alarm.

"Y-you tricked us!" Martina shouted. "You`ll pay for that! Come on girls, let`s tear him apart!" And twelve wrathful females began to advance on the old gardener.

Tatsu seemed unperturbed. "I think bad girl got something more important to attend to," he said.

"What do you mean?" said Basilissa.

"Well, you all come through fern patch, right?"

"Yes," said another Warbler, an auburn beauty in aquamarine.

"Well, this morning I brush fern with special drug called Cramprin. Make fairy egg-drop time come faster. In fact, bad girl should be cramping up right . . . now."

"Oh my God, he`s right!" cried a breathtaking brunette in burgundy. "Unnnhhh! They`re coming . . . so hard!" And she squatted down right where she stood. Soon her cries were joined by others: "Ooooohh, it hurts!" "Oh God God God, it`s tearing me apart!" "Ahhhhhh! My time! My time!" and so on. Within seconds, the girls were all crouched down, their faces white and contorted, their nails digging into their thighs, their knees knocking. They had never felt cramps like these.

Tatsu went right to work. He snapped his fingers again, and the tape player disappeared, replaced by a long coil of strong rope. He cut the rope in sections with a knife he always carried with him. Then he ran up to the squatting, groaning girls and bound each one`s wrists tightly behind her back. The trauma of egg-laying incapacitates a Warbler at the best of times; and this was something far worse. Knowing that they must obey any male who bound them, the girls all cried out in bitter despair; but they could do nothing to resist.

It took several minutes of groans, moans, shrieks, and tears, but at last each Warbler dropped a clutch of eggs. Then, exhausted, they all fell trembling to their knees. "Didn`t think
the gardener would be a problem, did you?" hissed Martina at Basilissa. Basilissa just hung her head. Martina then looked up at Tatsu. "Well . . . you`ve got us . . . what do you want?"

"Want bad girl out of garden. Garden got simple rule: kitty-cat pounce; fay-girl kick, cry pretty eyes out. You break rule, you gotta go."

"Are you saying we have no right to defend ourselves?" asked Martina.

"That it exactly: you got no right to defend yourself."

"But it`s our sacred duty (every Warbler`s sacred duty!) to perpetuate our species and our separate lineages. Those . . . ghastly cats threatened our long-term survival. They had to be countered!"

Tatsu snorted. "Silly fairy! Use head for once! Why you lay so many dud egg? 'Cause you always worried. But it just fact of life: in Tatsu`s Garden, kitty-cat bag six a day. No problem if you accept fact and relax. Think about it. When dyke-fay species like yours fuck, two get pregnant, not one. And you fuck alla time, like fuck-starved bunny. Then you drop four, five egg by end of week. And what happen when cat come by while fay laying egg? Let her lay her egg, then bite her pussy. Egg just fine. Egg sit for week or so, getting bigger and bigger; then new batch of Warbler hatch, full-grown and ready to fuck. Do math; you not gonna die out. Just take deep breath and say to self every morning: have some fun, girly-fay, be sure to fuck'cause sooner, later, kitty-cat gonna bite pussyand that put big crimp in party-time!."

"B-but . . . we don`t want our pussies bitten!" cried one of the girls, a raven-haired minx in red.

"Yeah, and I wanna look like Chow Yun Fat. Where that get me? No, pussy-biting come with territory. Your pussies looking mighty fine right now. How about I just give them to kitty-cat?"

"No! No!" they all cried.

"Well, you got choice: get nipped by kitty; or walk to end of gully, and out of garden forever."

"If we agree to leave . . . the garden . . . our home . . . forever," said Martina, "do you promise we won`t be bitten?"

"No problemo," said Tatsu. "You go out through end of gully, I guarantee: kitty-cat never nip younot one little bit."

Martina conferred briefly with the others. Then she said: "It seems we`re agreed. We`ll leave now. We`ll miss this beautiful place terribly, but, with the choices you`ve given us, it`s for the best. I have one question, though. What about our eggs?"

"Those stay here," said the gardener. "Don`t worry: they get same chance everyone else get."

"Very well," said Martina.

"OK," said Tatsu. "Now just get up and walk. When you get to end of gully, path will appear and let you through. From there, just keep on going." So, trembling and teary-eyed, the twelve stood up, a little unsteadily, and started to leave.

Just then, Basilissa spoke. "Will you . . . untie us at least?"

"Ah . . . no," said Tatsu. "Don`t worry; everything taken care of at other end."

So off they went in a long line. When they reached what looked like an impenetrable drift of dirt and loose stones, sure enough, a narrow pass appeared out of nowhere. They filed into the pass, and then emerged onto what looked like a big, green lawn. They had barely gotten used to their new surroundings, when--ahead of them--there was a sudden flash of lightso intense, they had to shut their eyes. When they opened them again, they saw a horrid, hateful vista: a long wooden scaffolding, with twelve nooses hanging down over what appeared to be a collapsible platform. Some gasped. Some began to cry. "Oh no," said Basilissa. "Oh dear Lord, no."

Part III

"Oh yes," said a voice behind them. The fairies turned to see Tatsu, a big grin on his face. They trembled so hard when they saw that grin that some of them had trouble standing. More than one released a spurt of urine. "I forget to tell you," he said. "Disobey rule of gardenthat capital offense."

"But . . . but you were only going to exile us!" wailed Basilissa, just this side of hysteria.

"I say: leave garden. I not say you don`t leave pretty feet first. And I keep promise: no kitty will ever nip you."

"But this is . . . no better!" cried Martina.

"Oh well. Sometime Door No. 1 and Door No. 2 both suck. "Che sera, sera," as German poet say. Now be good caught Warbler gang and go up on platform." Of course they had to obey. Sobbing, wailing, and whimpering, they climbed the steps of the gallows and walked out onto the long platform. Their captor went up after them. He made each girl stand behind a noose; then he drew the nooses tight around each tender neck. Now they all cried even harder.

"That right: cry for all you worth," he said. "Before today, you not know what 'get kicky` really mean. I make you kick like no kitty can."

Tatsu was not without mercy. He knew that if the Warblers were primed, they`d come a good deal more and a good deal harder in their last travail. And their pussies were so plump and pretty! So he went from girl to girl, and with his right hand he gently cupped each cunt. (Their pubic hair was as soft as he had ever felt.) After a bit of stroking, he slipped a finger in, as far as it would go. The girls made quite a fuss, since his fingers were thick and callusednot at all like a fay`s delicate digitsand their twats were still sore from laying. But their yelps, moans, and whimpers were prompted as much by pleasure as by pain. The proof was in the honey: he milked a palm`s worth from each girl (and licked it all up greedily as he went along). When he cupped Basilissa, her eyes flashed. "You`re hurting me!" she cried.

"Kitty-cat hurt more," he said, then fingered her with especial gusto.

Martina was the last in line. "It`s so humiliating!" she wailed when her turn came.

"Awww, admit it, girly-girl: you like to show off pussy. Can`t complain if Tatsu see and want to sample ware. And such pretty puss, too; such pretty girl!"

"A pretty girl . . . in a man`s world," Martina sniffed.

"Ah, you catch on at last!" said her captor and gave her mons Veneris a good hard pinch. Then he strolled from girl to girl, pinching a plump pussy here, smacking a plushy bottom there. Nor did their abundant breasts escape his attention. His victims wailed at these new indignities, but they also secreted more honey.

At last, the wiley gardener was ready for the finale. "That all, pretty Warbler gang! Time to go now. Got any last word?"

Haltingly, tremblingly, Basilissa spoke: "We . . . we understand now that we shouldn`t have tampered with the workings of your garden. You`re our master . . . and we have to obey. I want to obey you. But please, good master, is there . . . no other way to punish us? We`re very tender . . . below the waist; if you just . . . had your way with us, and let us go, we`d never forget, I assure you. Please, there must be some other way. Please. Please." She was weeping now, but very softly.

Martina chimed in: "Oh yes, good master, please. I`m a bitch; I know it . . . but you`ve tamed me. You felt how soft I was . . . you tasted itwasn`t it sweet? It`s all yours whenever you want it. I`ll obey . . . I promise! Oh please, let me obey you, master." She finished then, weeping softly just like Basilissa. And then the other girls made similar appeals and pledges of submission. They, too, wept softly when they were done. Twelve beautiful, trembling girlstheir faces wet with tears; their pussies damp and honey-scented! It was a struggle for the old man; it really was.

When at last he spoke, his tone was much gentler than before. "You finally figure out how things are, honey-gang, and I appreciate. Yes I do. But law of Tatsu`s garden can be hard law for girl: if they come here, they must obey from day one. Magic of garden depend on proper balance between male and femalemale on top, female below. Balance go, magic go. 'Cause you cross line, I gotta give you to kitty or dispatch you some other way. And it best for other Warbler in garden: they gotta learn there can be no crossing line. They gotta learn there is no defense to kitty-cat. They figure that out; thenbelieve it or notthey can be happy, and their egg all hatch. So I am sorry--but time to go."

With these words, he went over to a metal lever and pulled it. There was a lurching, screeching sound, and the platform dropped away. Twelve girls twisted and kicked at the air, their high heels flashing in the sun. It wasn`t long before the fay-spasms came, and the final discharge of honey. And then they died.

When he was sure every girl had kicked her last, Tatsu took some tokairo simples out of his right breast pocket and swallowed them. Within seconds, he was back to normal size. He then picked up the miniature gallows, together with its pretty cargo, and carried it to the rhododendron clearing. He left it there; but before he went, he taped a hand-lettered sign right below twelve dangling pairs of high-heeled feet. The sign read: "Just behave for goodness` sake!"

Soon everything was as it should be. Since the authors of the hex had been dispatched, there were no more sirens. Knowing their place in the garden now, the Warblers laughed when they made love, groaned when they laid their eggs, and cried when they got kicky. Long after the twelve had vanished in puffs of smoke, Tatsu kept the gallows in the clearing: a stern but salutary reminder.