Wednesday 6 February 2008

Confessions of a Kitten Fancier

If I want you to fall in love with me, and I do – no, not you, silly... you - then I feel I should be honest about all of the things I’ve done in my life. I’m not one of those people who believes that a little mystery in a relationship is a good thing and that a couple shouldn’t know everything about each other. I’m the opposite. I feel – in theory and in my extremely limited experience – that there is nothing more erotic than knowing all there is to know about your life-partner, and when we get together I will want to know every gory detail about your past. And don’t even think of asking me to leave the bathroom when you’re in there because I won’t. I want everything.

So anyway, there’s something you should know. I wasn’t going to tell you because frankly, part of me is ashamed and frightened. But then, some people feel that if something frightens you, that’s a damn good reason for doing it. I'm not sure I'm one of them, but in this case, to hell with it.

So, I hadn’t actually thought about this thing I'm about to share with you for years until I joined the Cook’d and Bomb’d talk forum recently. There was a thread there in which people were confessing to some of the vile things they’d done – lots of stories of bodily functions gone wrong, enforced emissions under unusual circumstances and so on. I was a little repulsed by these people if you want to know the truth, then I remembered when I was 13 or 14 and I became embroiled in an experiment. We’ve all been there. What happened was this…

One late afternoon I was home from school, in my room watching TV and eating marmite and cheese on toast. Inadvertently, some of the marmite found its way on to the back of my hand. Rather than wash it off, I guess I must just have rubbed if off, and not very well, for later that evening, still in my room I couldn’t help notice that my pet kitten was licking the back of my hand with an unusual attentiveness. One might even say a passion. This gave me an idea. You can probably see where this is going already. I am sorry.

Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure I was actually 15. But definitely no older.

A few days later – hours, minutes, whatever – I found myself home alone and feeling a little lonely – a little “lonely” - as teenage boys are wont to, and I decided I’d try a little experiment. So, I retired to my sleeping quarters with the tiny jar of marmite, giving Mavis a little sniff to make sure she followed – Mavis was the name of my kitten and I do take some solace from the fact that she was at least a lady cat. I then proceeded to undress myself, lay on the bed and smear a tiny trail of marmite on – at first – my nipples, which were particularly sensitive, then later, when that proved an enormous success, on the end of my burgeoning boyhood.

OK, so. You’ve got that image in your head. A strange-looking 15-year-old boy lying naked on an unmade bed in a slightly smelly room with hot summer sun trying hard to squeeze its way in through permanently closed curtains; he is lying on his side, holding himself in his right hand; a tiny black kitten is lapping at the end of his teenage Johnson with its tiny sandpapery tongue.

How does that make you feel? Do you find yourself strangely aroused? No, of course you don't. Well, believe me, it sounds as strange and perverted to me as is does to you. I have no idea what was going on in my head that convinced me it would be a good idea.

As it happens, it wasn't. And it didn’t last very long. No, not because I emptied myself all over poor Mavis’s tiny head. No. That would be sick. But because at some stage – around about the time Mavis got a little too bitey – I kind of saw what I was doing and I felt a little repulsed. So I stopped. Then I went and washed myself, took Mavis downstairs and gave her some proper food.

So, all in all, nothing really happened. Except that I cajoled an underage cat into licking my erogenous zones. And ‘cajoled’ is probably a bit much. It was consensual. She was purring.

After I’d posted this on the forum, someone from there asked me if I would mention it here. They suggested that if I did so, I may alienate some of my readers. I know that that is a possibility – a pussibility! – but it’s a risk I have to take. The fact is, I feel better having shared.

Oh, look! Pablo has just wandered into the room. He’s just eaten. He’s licking his lips. Awww. He’s so sweet. He wants to come on my lap. Come on then, Pablo. Just this once…





No kittens were harmed in the retelling of this adolescent abomination.

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31 comments:

Sue said...

Good Lord you've got guts!

Anonymous said...

Blimey! Is it wrong that I'm stifling a giggle?

Anonymous said...

hahaha this is hilarious. not that sick at all, mainly funny ;)

Carolina said...

Sweet Jesus! I've heard stories of dogs & peanut butter; but a cat tongue? What are your boy parts made of? Leather? Yeah, that's the part that shocks me ;-)

Glamourpuss said...

You know, we cats are warned about people like you...

Puss

Luka said...

That's so funny! I mentioned a hungry cat and a pouch of cat food here
as part of a budget BDSM session, but had no idea you could trump that so wonderfully with your real life masturbatory moggy marmite adventures!

Anonymous said...

aw man, you are something else.

Anonymous said...

A kitten sucking marmite schlong
Good Lord says the mighty King Kong!
Could it be the secret to your Johnson's growth?
I hereby make a solemn oath
This experiment i shall try
If it works, my eyes i will cry out dry
Just kidding! I'm not a crazy chump....
...........
I've already got my penis pump!

Meg said...

Hhhmmmm... wonder if the makers of Marmite would ditch Paddington and use Mavis for their new ad campaign... "Marmite - you either love it, or you hate it... go on, don't be such a dick, try it!" ;)

Anonymous said...

You're going straight to hell at the moment. Try and do something nice. Quick!

Ginny said...

*giggles*

You're a brave man, Bête!

Anonymous said...

Haha! Excellent, I was wondering if this would ever go up on the blog.

You certainly are a brave soul, and a funny so & so too!

Sue said...

Dahahaha, I love Aliss' comment! I was thinking the same thing but not sure how to approach it.

La Bête said...

Not that sick at all. Thank you, Lena, that’s exactly right.

Aliss, to answer your question, I have and have always had an extraordinarily sturdy kazoo, but I think also you might be overestimating the roughness of a kitten’s tongue. It’s certainly no more chafing than a young boy’s special sock, crisp from overuse. (I realise as I’m writing this that the chances of any ladies reading it and then thinking of asking me out, or maybe even leaving their partners so that they might join me for frolics in my bed, are slim, and becoming slimmer all the time. If it’s any consolation, I generally don’t use a sock anymore these days. I’m rather more sophisticated than that now. I use an oven glove.)

Glamourpuss: rrrrrrrr.

As for the rest of you, I salute you all, and – perhaps rather cheekily under the circumstances – back away from one or two of you with an uneasy smile.

DJ Kirkby said...

I have to admit I laughed...and have resolved to NEVER go into the boy's room's EVER again when I know they are in the house!

JW said...

I can't say it's something the likes of which I ever did at home, even during the worst spasms of adolescence ... mind you, we only had goldfish :)

Carolina said...

Ah my dear, set aside your worries of putting of potential paramours. Now that I know you have upgraded to the oven glove, my heart is all yours.

Sky said...

at least you stopped. Now I have to go look up what marmite is.

Meg said...

Eeeeewwww... not the sock, please!! Not the sock!!

~frantically tries to get that picture out of her head as she recalls all those Sundays doing the laundry... and the state of her teenage son's socks!!!~

Innocent Loverboy said...

In response to Mary Mack: you may find out what Marmite is... but what it's made out of... now THAT'S the real mystery.

Larry Teabag said...

A most thought-provoking post. I think the moral is not to go for "bitey" kittens, but old mogs whose teeth have fallen out.

In any case I salute your great honesty, unless you made it up, in which case I salute your great dishonesty.

Anonymous said...

I swear if that kitten didn't poop with a vengeance and if I didn't have to abandon it on the street, I would have found me a Monsieur Felis Licksalot for my lonely afternoon too. By the way, I'm sensitive on the nipples too.

...Nessy... said...

It's really cute you've bared it all for us.

But, there's nothing wrong with Pussy Lovers...

MommyHeadache said...

Wow! You learn something new every day. I never even knew that cats like marmite. Now, let me see, I have a jar here somewhere. Here kitty kitty!

Anonymous said...

Hello again Bete. I was once Anon and now I'm Mr. Fermata. This is fucking GENIUS. Internet Gold! I get told I'm perverted cos I rub my cats nipples. Just tried some Marmite on the finger and he loves it. It's gonna be a HOT weekend. That's if I can wait till the weekend obviously. I can resist everything except Oscar Wilde you see. Hope you still read the comments even though I've come across this a bit late.

Anonymous said...

Not perverted at all, just ordinary curiosity. Funny how embarrasse we get by our natural human curiosity / desire to experiment. Tis a very useful pat of being human.

But how come I know so many cats called Pablo?

Shophopper said...

Maybe Aldous Huxley should have let the kids in Brave New Wold play with kittens.

Anonymous said...

Well, you won't be the only man in history to succumb to the forbidden charms of a barely legal sex kitten...

Seriously, that has to be the single bravest admission I've ever read anywhere. And bloody funny, too. Respect :-)

Damn, I thought I was writing a no-holds-barred and suicidally honest blog! You've just made me feel like a right pussy (no pun intended :-)

J x

B said...

Christ man.

Although, on the other hand, I'm thinking "bloody hell, that's very creative for a desperate teenager".

No, no I'm not.


PS. Those forums rule, I lurk like mad on them.

Anonymous said...

Having "seen" you on GMTV this morning - I searched for your blog and sadly my first click was on 'My first time with an animal' so who am I to judge. Fair play to you. I hope the next pussy to show interest in you has got a softer tongue x

Brigitte Bordeaux said...

Bête, I laughed so hard I wet my french knickers!!! Of course this might also be due to the weakening of the pelvic floor muscles as I'm led to believe by the lady magazines I find at the surgery. Age thing apparently.

I will never look at a teenage boy in the same way again. Nor at Marmite, come to think of it.