You choose the slutty cat.

The Algorithm serves the option after you tell it you want something playful and obvious. Black romper, deep neckline, clip-on tail, cat ears, sheer black pantyhose, little paw gloves. You add the gaff, the soft breast forms, makeup, and black heels. The Algorithm answers with one line. High visibility. High approach rate. Proceed.

The night of the party you prepare carefully. Shaving is thorough. The tuck locks your modest cock flat until the front of the romper sits perfectly smooth. The breast forms give the deep neckline a soft curve. Makeup softens your face. The black wig frames it. When you pull the romper on, attach the tail, settle the ears, and slide into the pantyhose and heels, the mirror shows exactly what the costume promised. Sexy. Available. The smooth front hides the small secret completely. Your cock is already half-hard inside the gaff from the sight alone.

The club is loud and packed, a dedicated Halloween costume night with colored lights cutting through fog and bass that vibrates in your chest. You step inside and the slutty cat outfit does immediate work. Eyes find the legs in sheer pantyhose, the short romper, the tail, the ears. You move toward the bar, order something sweet, and try to find a rhythm in the heels.

She finds you first.

Sofia is impossible to miss. Tall, blonde, the Supergirl costume fitted tight across a real chest and narrow waist, the skirt short enough to match the energy of the room, red boots that put her a little above you even in your heels. The cape sits perfect on her shoulders. She stops in front of you, looks the cat costume up and down, and smiles wide.

“Okay, that is unfair,” she says, voice bright over the music. “The tail, the pantyhose, the whole thing. You look too good to be standing here alone. Dance with me.”

It is not really a question. She takes your hand and pulls you onto the floor before you can overthink it. The lights sweep across both of you. She moves close right away, hands on your waist, hips matching the beat. The romper is so short that her fingers rest on bare skin above the pantyhose. Your cock hardens fully inside the gaff at the contact. The modest length presses against the tight fabric with nowhere to go.

“You are really good at this,” she says near your ear, laughing as the tail swings. “Most people in cat costumes just stand there and look cute. You actually move. I like it.”

“You are not bad yourself,” you answer, voice softer than usual.

She grins and tugs the tail lightly. “Flattery will get you everywhere tonight. Come on, keep up.”

You dance.

She is giggly and open, laughing every time the tail swings or the ears bounce. She tells you the costume is perfect and that you wear it better than half the girls in the room. You buy the first round. She buys the second. The drinks are strong and sweet.

“Your turn,” she says when the second round arrives, clinking her glass against yours. “To the best cat at this party and the Supergirl who stole her.”

You drink. Every time you return to the floor she pulls you closer. Her body is warm and soft against the front of the romper. She does not seem to notice the complete lack of any bulge. Or if she does, she does not care. Her hands stay on your hips, your lower back, the curve of your ass through the thin fabric.

“These pantyhose are dangerous,” she says, fingers sliding along the sheer fabric on your thigh. “I keep wanting to touch them. Is that weird?”

“Not weird,” you manage.

She laughs. “Good. Because I am going to keep doing it.” She tugs the tail again. “And this. This tail is the best part. Every time I pull it you make the tiniest little face. Adorable.”

Hours pass like that. Dance, drink, dance again. She stays with you the entire time. Other people try to cut in and she waves them off with a grin.

“Nope, she is mine tonight,” she tells one guy who steps too close. Then she turns back to you. “Sorry. I do not share my dance partners when they look this good in cat ears.”

She leans in to speak near your ear, breath warm. “The deep neckline on this romper is doing criminal things. I keep looking down and forgetting to dance. You should be careful wearing something like this. Someone might take you home.”

Your modest cock leaks steadily inside the gaff. The small size makes every brush of her body feel concentrated and urgent. By the time the club starts to thin she is still pressed against you, still giggling at nothing and everything, still touching you like the night belongs to the two of you.

She looks at you under the lights, cheeks flushed from dancing and alcohol, and says, “Come home with me. I am not done with the cat yet. I want more of this. More of you. Say yes.”

“Yes,” you answer.

You go.

Her apartment is only a short ride away. The second the door closes she is on you again, kissing you hard, hands already under the romper straps, tugging the cat ears askew.

“God, you taste like those drinks and bad decisions,” she says against your mouth, giggling. “I like it. Bedroom. Now. I have been thinking about getting this costume off you for the last hour.”

She walks you backward toward the bedroom, still giggling against your mouth, still treating the whole thing like the best game of the night. The cape ends up on the floor. The Supergirl skirt follows. She is in the boots, the top, and very little else when she pushes you onto the bed.

“Stay right there,” she says, climbing up after you. “I want to unwrap my present.”

She peels the romper down your shoulders, then further, until the breast forms are free and the gaff is the only thing left covering you. She hooks her fingers in the waistband and pulls it down.

Your modest cock springs free, hard, flushed, smaller than average, the head already wet and shiny.

Sofia stares for a second. Then she bursts into bright, helpless giggles.

“Oh my god. That is so cute. Look at it. Little boner. Little cat cock.” She reaches out and wraps her fingers around it. Her hand easily engulfs the whole length. She gives a soft stroke and giggles again. “It is so small. I can hide it completely in my hand. That is adorable. Does it always get this hard even when it is this little?”

Your face burns. Your cock twitches hard in her grip at the exact mix of her soft hand and the open laughter.

“Poor thing,” she says, still smiling, still stroking. “Trying so hard. I was expecting something that would actually fill me out. This is like a cute little clit dick. I love it. It is so funny and hot at the same time.”

She keeps stroking while she talks, the giggles coming between sentences. Every comment about the size makes the modest shaft pulse in her fingers. Pre-cum runs over her knuckles. She notices and laughs harder.

“It is leaking already. Tiny cock is so excited just from me holding it and telling the truth. That is the cutest thing I have seen all night. Look at the way it jumps when I say it is small. You like that, do you not? You like me calling it little.”

You make a quiet sound that is not a denial. She grins wider.

“Yeah. You do. Soft little cat with a soft little cock that gets all wet when a girl is honest about it. I am keeping you.”

She pushes you onto your back and straddles your thighs, still in the Supergirl top and boots. She lines your cock up with her pussy and sinks down. The fit is loose. She takes the entire modest length in one easy motion and starts riding with slow, experimental rolls of her hips. Her expression stays soft and amused.

“I can barely feel it,” she says, giggling again. “It is so small. Like a little warm finger. Cute, but not enough. Aww. Poor little cat. You are doing your best with what you have. Keep it hard for me. I want to feel it try.”

She rides you for several minutes, still smiling, still making soft teasing comments.

“It is completely gone. Little clit dick just vanished inside me. That is so funny. I have to really focus to even notice it is there. Most guys would be losing their minds right now. You are just lying there letting me laugh at it. I like that. I like you.”

She reaches down and spreads herself so she can look at the place where you are buried.

“Look at this. I can see everything. Your little cock is doing its best and I still have room to spare. It is honestly the cutest problem I have ever had in bed.” She lifts up until only the head is inside, then drops back down. “I need more than this if I am actually going to feel you. Pussy is too greedy for something this small.”

She climbs off, still giggling, and reaches for the nightstand. Lube appears. She coats her fingers, then reaches behind herself and starts opening her ass with slow, practiced motions while she watches your face.

“I am going to put you in my ass,” she says, matter-of-fact and bright. “It is the only way I am going to feel that little thing properly. My pussy just swallows it. My ass will actually notice. You okay with that, little cat?”

You nod. She coats your modest cock generously, the cool gel making it shine, and turns around so she is straddling you reverse.

“Good. Because I am doing it anyway. Hold still.”

She reaches back, holds your cock steady, and sinks down slowly. The tight heat is immediate and overwhelming. Your modest length is gripped completely. She takes it all in a few careful motions and then starts riding with short, focused rolls. This time her breath catches.

“There. That is better. Little clit dick actually stretching something. Still tiny, but I can feel it now. Oh my god. Look at it disappearing. It is so small and so hard.”

She looks back over her shoulder, blonde hair messy, Supergirl top still on, and grins.

“You like that? Being told your cock is only useful in my ass because it is too little for anything else? Tell me. I want to hear it.”

“Yes,” you manage, voice rough.

“Yes what?”

“Yes. It is too little for your pussy. Ass is the only way.”

She laughs, delighted, and rides harder. “Good boy. Good little cat. That is the truth and you said it out loud while your tiny cock is buried in my ass. That is so hot. Keep talking if you want. Or just lie there and take it. Either way I am going to keep using this little thing until it gives up.”

The tight ring of her ass works the entire short shaft with every movement. Her giggles turn into softer moans mixed with the same teasing commentary.

“It is so small and so hard. Little cat cock doing its best to fuck my ass. I can feel every inch because there are not that many inches to feel. That is the funniest and hottest combination. Keep going. I want to feel it pulse when you come. Are you close already? You feel close. Little dick is twitching like it is ready to give me that tiny load.”

The combination of the tight heat, the visual of your modest cock sliding in and out of her ass, and the constant soft mockery pushes you fast. You try to last. The size and the stimulation make it impossible.

“Already?” she says, feeling the change, and giggles again. “Little thing is going to come just from a few minutes in my ass and some honest comments? That is so cute. Go on. Fill me up. I want to feel the little clit dick twitch and pump. Come for me. Come in my ass like the soft little cat you are.”

You come hard, hips jerking upward, modest cock pulsing in weak but intense spurts deep in her ass. The orgasm feels huge compared to the amount of cum that actually leaves you. She keeps riding through it, milking every small spurt with tight squeezes, still looking back at you with that bright, amused smile.

“There it is. Little cat came in my ass because that was the only place it could actually be felt. So fucking cute. I felt every little pulse. There were not many but they were sweet.”

She stays on you until the last twitch fades, then lifts off slowly. Your cock slips free, soft, shiny, and smaller-looking after the way she used and described it. She turns around, still in the boots and top, and looks at the spent length with open fondness mixed with the same playful cruelty.

“Aww. All done. Little boner did its best.” She gives it a soft, almost pitying stroke. “Look at it. So small and sticky and finished. Next time I am putting a toy in my pussy while you do that so I can actually get filled while the cute micro cock takes the ass. Would you like that? Be honest.”

“Yes,” you say.

She giggles and leans down to kiss you, slow and warm. “Good. Because I am keeping you around. Soft little cat with the soft little cock that comes so easy when I tell the truth about it. Best Halloween surprise I have ever brought home.”

She cleans up with practical ease, still giggling every time she glances at your cock, then pulls you into a lazy cuddle that keeps one hand resting lightly over the soft, sticky length, as if she wants to keep reminding herself how little it was and how easily she made it come in her ass while laughing about it.

“Stay the night,” she says against your hair. “I am not done looking at it. And in the morning I might want to see if the little cat cock can get hard again just from me talking about how small it is. I bet it can.”

You stay.

The Algorithm’s message arrives sometime before dawn, quiet on your phone on the nightstand.

Slutty cat deployment successful. Small-penis mockery and anal-only use produced full orgasm and elevated shame-arousal markers. Subject remained compliant under soft verbal humiliation and explicit size dialogue. Data logged.

You lie in her bed in the ruined cat costume pieces, her blonde hair on the pillow beside you, the memory of her giggles and the tight heat of her ass and every word she said about your little cock still vivid, and feel the entire night settle into your body as something you will not be able to stop replaying.