He unlocks her chain

Once more, I found myself listening for his steps. When I noticed that he was close, I dared to look up.

My ears drooped down onto my head, and I involuntarily tucked in my tail. He was close. Very close in fact. He loomed right above me, his last step apparent having been a very wide one. In his hand, he held a small key which I recognized as the one that could open the padlocks on my bindings. He smiled at me.

It was a confident, satisfied smile. Apparently, he was very pleased with himself for buying me at such a low price. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On the one hand, it was always good to please your master, even if it was only by being cheap. The more pleased he was, the less punishment I’d have to endure, hopefully. On the other hand, a master would probably take greater care to keep an expensive **** alive and healthy than a cheap one, right? And from that perspective, I was very scared.

“Hello again, twenty-six.” he greeted me, still smiling. “I just bought you, which means that I am your master now. My name is Cassius Tri, which you better remember. But you will call me master. Do you understand?”

I nodded “Yes, master.”

“Good pet.” He praised me as he unlatched my chain leash from the post I had been tethered to, using the key from the breeder “You *will* obey me. I am going to give you more rules once we are home, but for now, that shall suffice.”

I nodded once more “Yes, master.”

“Get up” he ordered me.

I scrambled to my feed as fast and as gracefully as I could. After all, I had been taught that a certain grace was expected of a cat. It wasn’t exactly easy with my hands bound and the heavy chain attached to my neck, but after years of training, it wasn’t exactly hard either.

He looked at me the entire time, seemingly evaluating me. Once I stood safely on my two feet, he lead me out of the tent on my leash. He was walking at a steady pace and didn’t pull overly hard on my leash, only tucking it to give me directions when he wanted me to turn, which made it very easy for me to follow him.

The air was still warm and smelled of myriad things, most of which I didn’t recognize. Some smells stood out to me however, like the familiar smell of cats, the smell of cars that made me sick earlier, or the sweet smell of the treats that humans enjoyed so much. I never got the chance to try one, and I thought that I probably would never, I just had smelled them when the guards at the **** kennels ate them.

I looked around as my new master lead me around the **** fare. My ears stood at attention and my tail swished happily behind me as I tried to take in all the new impressions: Everywhere were big tents that sold all kinds of demis, and some even human slaves! Besides them, there were stalls that sold all kinds of gear meant for slaves, mainly collars and restraints. Other stalls sold what looked similar to the sweet treats I had seen the guards eat, that was where the smell came from. Master made me stop at one as he bought a pastry and stored it in a brown paper bag before moving on. After a short while of walking, we arrived at a wide space that was made entirely out of some black, rough material. On it stood an enormous number of cars, all orderly arranged in rows.

“Do not step on the black ground.” master ordered me. “That is called tar, it gets very hot in the sun. It will burn your skin if you step on it.”

I looked down at my bare feet as he lead me around, careful to stay on the dirt as I followed him.

“Here we are.” he stated as we reached a fairly inconspicuous car that was parked with its trunk facing the dirt walkway that bordered the tar.

Master took a small, black thing with silvery symbols on it out of his pocket and pressed one with his fingers. The car in front of us beeped loudly which made me jump a little, much to my master’s amusement.

“Don’t worry, little scaredy-cat, the car won’t bite you.” He joked.

He pointed towards the trunk “Get in there.”

I knew better than to protest, stepped forward, and tried to get into the trunk. The problem was that I didn’t know how, especially not with bound hands.

I heard a sigh behind me. Master was getting impatient. Before I could react, I was lifted up by two strong arms. He held me effortlessly, cradling me in his arms in a way I had not been held since I was a young kitten. I squeaked quietly, wrapping my limbs and tail around myself as best as I could, so that I was smaller and easier to hold. Master placed me gingerly inside the trunk of his car, petting my hair softly. I perked up a little and nuzzled my head into his hand. I still didn’t understand why I did this; it was more instinctual than anything else. It just felt right.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand. “You must be tired, my pet. You should sleep now.” he told me as he padlocked my leash to a handle inside the trunk.

Sleep? In a loud, smelly car? As a cat with overly sensitive senses? Impossible, I thought.

But as soon as he closed the lid, I understood. I couldn’t fathom how or why, but the interior of the trunk was padded and soft, keeping out basically any noise, light, and the smell of the street. Instead, it smelled calming, like dried grass, it was so dark that even I couldn’t see, and I heard almost nothing.

To a human, this must be a very difficult concept to grasp, but for a cat, the world is filled with intrusive, offending sensations. Normally, we have to focus on ignoring them at all times, otherwise we couldn’t maintain any coherent thought, let alone get some rest. That is also why a quiet, comfy pace makes us sleepy almost immediately.

And this was a very quiet, very comfy place. My exhaustion made me drift into a deep sleep within moments.