This story is about Viona, the cat-girl I always write about. It's related to the other stories, but you don't need to read them in order to understand this story.
I had this posted on Literotica before, but every time I read it again, I grew more dissatisfied with it. So I took it down and rewrote it; this is the second, final version. Hope you like it.
An important note: Viona, the main character in this story, is a Nekomimi; a human with a few catlike features (most importantly: furred ears, tail, claws and the ability to purr). This story does not revolve around these characteristics, though. If you have never read stories about so called "furries" before, maybe this one will be able to ease you into liking them. Who knows... ;)
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Reaching out from under my blanket with an arm, I spent a second or two searching for my mobile phone, before finding it and turning off the alarm.
Time to get up, I guess.
I never enjoyed this part of the day very much.
It wasn't until then that I opened my eyes and threw the covers off. I rolled over onto my front and stretched my legs for a few seconds, then arched my back and thrust my rear up a bit while stretching my arms. No cat can get the day started without this routine. I yawned and lay quietly for another lazy moment, before standing up and hopping out of the bed -- barefoot and naked, except for a small golden loop through the tip of my right ear and a wedding band around my left ring finger. I took a quick shower, and went downstairs without getting dressed. Else than my sister, nobody would see me anyway. Probably.
I guess it's best to describe myself before proceeding to the story itself. I'm a rather tiny girl, being 5'4" tall and weighing 112 pounds, yet I have no issues getting people's attention, often turning many heads when I'm walking down the street. I tend to be quite happy about subtly displaying my 33C-25-34 figure, and even though people seem to love my breasts, the main thing that makes them stare and wonder, is my hair. Its natural colour is brown, but I've been dying it cotton candy pink for some time. Obviously, nobody ever fails to notice me because of this.
Along with my hair, I keep my ears and tail pink, too. That's right; I'm a cat-girl, and although my body isn't furred, my ears and tail are. My ears are quite large, even, and I have the ability to perk them to the top of my head, or droop them slightly so that they hang down the sides. Other than these, my prominent catlike features are my claws, my ability to purr, and the soft paddings on the soles of my feet. I never wear shoes for my claws feel uncomfortable in them, so this last feature comes in very handy.
Anyway...
"Morning!" I called out while hopping down the stairs. Silence answered. With a shrug, I walked into the kitchen and found my twin sister's note, saying that a friend had picked her up early for a day out.
Thanks for mentioning that earlier, Lily.
I never liked waking up to an empty house.
I shrugged off this thought, and smiled to myself while grabbing the first thing I could find to eat: a bowl of cereal with ice cold milk. Soy milk. Cow milk gets my stomach upset. One of the less lovely perks of being a cat.
Normally, I would have changed into my workout clothes and gone outside for a run, but that wasn't really what I was looking for today. I had already seen the sun gloriously lighting the skies, and it had looked incredibly warm outside. Way too warm for a run.
No, I'm not lazy.
So the plans were changed. Working out had to make room for lazy leisure; a day by the lake would be perfect. It barely took me a few minutes to get into a modest, red bikini, and to put on a sundress of the same colour. I grabbed my beach bag after stuffing it with whatever I was going to need and walk out of the door.
As soon as I walked out, I realized it was already an incredibly hot day, at 10 AM. My lips curled up into a smile, and my hand reached into my beachbag and pulled out the black sunglasses. Despite the warmth, there weren't many people out, but my own explanation for this was that most people were probably hiding from the sun, preferring shadow instead. I couldn't blame them, of course; part of me already wished I had stayed at home. I kept going though, determined to have a nice day out.
See, I told you I'm not lazy.
The lake and its little beach were only a five minutes walk from where I lived, so I could return at anytime if I pleased to. Moreover, hot days like these were rather rare in Belgium, so I was determined to get rid of my exceptionally pale, almost white skin. For what I knew, tomorrow could be a rainy day.
Now, when I mention a beach and a lake, don't imagine too much. The Meuse's water forms some tiny lakes here and there, and artificial beaches have been made at some places to attract tourism. They're very popular during the highschool holidays, but otherwise they're often deserted.
Today was a Saturday in May, and the beach was indeed lifeless except for myself. Appreciating the privacy this granted me, I smiled to myself and picked a nice spot to sprawl my beach towel out on, before sitting down on it. I glanced over the beach once more, and saw that there was a beach bag about 60 feet from where I was sitting. Its owner was probably out in the water, or buying a drink in the bar. Either way, I was probably not truly on my own.
Little did I care, though! I slipped out of my dress and lay down on my back, immediately closing my eyes to think for a while. I had brought half a liter of water, which would probably not be enough for the day. Moreover, I didn't bring any food, so I'd definitely have to get up in an hour or so and visit the cafés and snackbars.
Wish I wasn't this forgetful. I didn't even bring a book.
A few minutes after having lay down, I was purring softly and dozing off, when suddenly startled by a male's voice. "Hey there."
I opened my eyes, immediately glad that I had kept on my sunglasses. The sun was beaming powerfully even through them, and I was squinting my eyes half closed while trying to look at the person who had walked up to me. It was a man, probably about three years younger than me, and only a few inches taller. He was wearing black swim trunks which just covered is knees; the rather long type. In his hands were two cans of beer, one of which was opened. Either he was an alcoholic, or he was being very nice unaskedly. I gave him a faint smile, although it probably looked more like a grimace, thanks to the sun shining straight into my very sensitive eyes.
"Good morning," I said, bringing a hand up to shield my eyes from the sunlight so that I could give him a better look. He was holding out one of the cans to me, so I smiled and sat up to accept it, feeling very pleasantly surprised. "Oh, thank you! How much-..." I began, but I was cut off midsentence. A very nice way to meet somebody new.
"It's nothing. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Oh no, go on!"
I was, in fact, not just surprised by the free beer, but even more so by his friendliness. Cat-people like myself aren't very common where I lived then, and they are still subject to a lot of racism. Finding a job is next to impossible, unless it's as a strip dancer in a club. Needless to say, I didn't have a job myself, for this reason.
We introduced ourselves to each other, and started having some small talk. I learned that his name was Chris, and that he was 19 years old -- indeed three years younger than me. A pleasant surprise; I'm usually terrible at guessing people's age. Apparently, we had been in highschool together, and he remembered my face, unlike the other way around.
"I suppose people like me catch the eye a bit more," I said, shrugging in response to this.
"I guess. Though you're probably thinking about the wrong reason."
"Oh?"
The reason always seemed to be fairly simple to me. During my six years in highschool, there had been a total of four people like me in school. All four of us had been female, and all had been world famous in the entire school of over 1,000 students. We were like celebrities, simply because they weren't human; we were commonly referred to as "kitties". And even though everybody avoided us, everybody always knew every little detail about us. I can't say I enjoyed it, but I learned to live with it throughout the years. I was lucky to have my twin sister, too; it must have been much worse for the other two cat-girls who had nearly no friends, and not a single very good friend.
"You don't know, do you?" Chris responded to my wordless question.
"What do I not know? I'm a kitty, is that what you mean?" This was getting annoying. I didn't like being reminded of these times, and if he was trying to hit on me by acting mysterious, he was not doing a good job.
"No, that's not it. It'll probably sound weird to you."
"Then what is it?" I had to resist rolling my eyes at him.
Chris had been facing away a bit, seemingly looking out to the beach. Now he turned his head and looked me in the eye with a thoughtful smirk.
Just tell me, will you?
"The guys didn't call you kitty, Viona. They called you fox."
"Fox? But I..."
It then dawned upon me, and I couldn't help but laugh softly, curiously tilting my head. "Very clever. I hadn't heard that one before."
"I'm being serious!" Chris responded, defensively holding up his hands.
Shaking my head in a disbelief, I listened as Chris explained that I had been considered to be one of the better looking girls in school, after the dreadful jokes about bestiality had died down. Chris' story was simultaneously funny and flattering, and I caught myself blushing several times, although I had sunglasses to hide behind.