The door banged behind the young man as he gave a long weary groan. He really shouldn’t be banging doors this late at night. He scratched the back of his dark hair wearily and made his way over to his couch, sinking into the deep soft cushions with a weary sigh. He lay back, legs splayed out in exhaustion as he just took a second to not do anything for the first time in far too many hours. he wearily realised something, something wasn’t right. Moving only his lower legs to maximise peak lethargy, he toed off each boot then worked his socks off feeling instant relief. “Fuck yes” he sighed as he just enjoyed the act of not doing anything.
Time passed, he wasn’t sure how long though he was on the edge of dozing when he heard a light pitched “Moawww” from by his feet. “Lord Fizzlesnatch” he said blearily, cracking an eyelid. “Charmed to make your acquaintance on this fine evening” he said moving smoothly into a seated position to scratch under the ear of his white and brown fluffed cat, Lord Fizzlesnatch.
It purred at the touch and he smiled warmly at his little furry companion.
“Hungry little buddy?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
Lord Fizzlesnatch, ever the cutie that he was, pleasantly meowed in response and the young man chuckled in response, getting to his feet with a grunt.
“I know, I know. No need to insult my aunt like that your lordship. Your meal won’t be long. Take a seat and we’ll have it out for you in just a second.”
“Moawww” the cat called again.
The young man stopped in his tracks and turned back slowly to the eagerly waiting cat. “You have no way of knowing that!” the young man hissed, severity radiating in his words and body language.
Silence dragged out and neither of them moved.
He waited. Waaaited. Waaaaaaaaaited.
“Nothing?” He asked, all pretence and drama gone instantly
“Moaww”
“Fair enough”
He turned back around and made his way to the shabby kitchen that was attached to his apartment living room and pulled out a tin of cat food. He opened it up and unceremoniously deposited the contents into the food bowl.
“Soups on, boys” he called and Lord Fizzlesnatch trotted over prettily and started chowing down on his own personal feast.
The young man bent his knees bringing himself into a crouched sitting position. He absently scritched the lower back of his cat as he absently muttered “Ya know Lord Fizzlesnatch, not every cat can say they have their food prepared by their own personal chef.”
The cat said nothing as it continued to gobble up the wet food
“I need to get out of this industry” he sighed out
“No one should have to work in this perpetual state of exhaustion.”
The cat continued to eat with wet macking sounds.
“Maybe we can start a life of crime, just you and me.”
Nothing..
“Not like bad crime obviously, I’m a gentleman and your nobility after all.”
Nothing…
“Explore the world, ya know. Doing morally grey crime stuff.”
Nothing…
“You can be the wheels guy and I’ll be the dashing charmer that works over the extraordinarily attractive men and women. Doing whatever it is that constitutes harmless but lucrative crime.”
Nothing…
“We would have to hide our identities though, we can get you one of those robber eye mask things so that people won’t be able to tell who you are.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Moawww” Lord Fizzlesnatch said, having finished her food
“Right, right. Black doesn’t match your colour. It would never work, would it.
He scratched behind his ear and groaned as he got back to a standing position.
“Whelp, I’ll just have to keep on keeping on then. Back to the metaphorical grind for me. Forever and ever...”
He sighed and cracked a beer from the fridge. He wasn’t hungry since his work at least had the decency to feed him while they fucked him.
One hour, four beers and a great variety of YouTube videos later, with Lord Fizzlesnatch purring contentedly in his lap, the young man drifted wearily off to a alcohol and fatigue fuelled deep sleep.
-
The young man felt warmth upon his chest and moaned in pleasure, he turned feeling warmth move over from the front of him to his back.
Oh yeah, he thought, that’s the stuff.
He dozed wearily for a time, soaking up that tasty morning sun like a happy little sunflower. An absent thought fluttered into his mind that his apartment got little sunlight let alone full body morning sun like he was experiencing. He lay there, eyes still closed as wakefulness slowly crept over him. He was reluctant to open his eyes. After all, it was supposed to be his day off today and he did need that extra sleep.
Irritatingly, another thing slowly crept into his awareness as sleep fell further from his grasp, the couch he was sleeping on was gone. Instead, he lay upon what felt like grass which was honestly just about as soft as his couch though despite that he could feel the jagged point of a rock poking up into his calf. He moved his leg slightly and, ah yes, that was much better.
A light wind drifted over him, tickling his skin and- holy shit he was naked. The young man sat up, squealing as he did so in a mostly manly way. He looked about himself this way and that, yes, he was very naked, oh shit, fuck, fuck. Where the fuck were his clothes? And where the fuck was he?
Around him were rolling green hills, dotted with large green leafed trees and, well, that was about it. It looked like what he imagined the English country side would be like, or, well, Tasmania. He’d heard Tasmania was pretty much just England if it was in Australia as far as green grasslands were concerned and England was a bit too far to be smuggling someone to dump them naked on a grassy hillside so he probably wasn’t there. Though in saying that, Queensland was still quite the distance away from Tasmania so, well, that didn’t really make much sense either. He thought for a time though really couldn’t come up with anything worthwhile.
He chided himself, there was no use getting caught up in where he was right now, he could work that out later when he actually had something to go off. The young man looked around, pressure building in his chest with a slow building realisation. If he was here, then what the hell had happened to Lord Fizzlesnatch? Did the kidnappers take him too? Or just leave him all alone in the apartment to cry sad and hungry cat tears at being left alone without him for who knows how long. The young man got to his feet, panic fuelled resolve forming in his chest. He needed to find a way back, nudity be damned.