“Isn’t he adorable? The way he kicks his little - what did you call them- paws? No wonder master always liked dressing me in those things,” Oscar gasps, cradling my fiance’s furry little body in his arms.

“If looks could kill...” I laugh at Vanessa sulking in the cat harness. Clearly she was starting to regret giving this present. When she’d offered up her humanity and womanhood to our house cat for christmas day, she’d anticipated a relaxing afternoon snoozing beneath the tree or chasing robins in the garden, not becoming the plaything of her humanized pet.

Oscar had adapted fast, mastering English over christmas dinner conversation and even learned not to run every time a christmas cracker was pulled.

After dinner, he insisted on doing what he always does on a full stomach - lying in my lap on the sofa and being stroked, watching the tv in rapt fascination until the urge to torment his previous owner became too much, and he’d forced her into the cat harness.

Vanessa squirms and meows plaintively in his arms.

The clock begins to chime. “It’s getting late. Vanessa was pretty clear. Cinderella rules - it only lasts till midnight. We should get you two back to the autocloset.”

Oscar pouts. “Ohh, but I was hoping to play with master’s body.”

“Haha, you’ve been playing with Vanessa’s boobs quite enough for one day.”

Oscar drops Vanessa and fixes me with predatory, panther-glint, padding towards me on his hands and knees as he climbs back into my lap. “Not that master’s body, silly,” he purrs.

Vanessa glowers up at us from her lowly position on the floor, back arched and tail puffed in agitation. My attention is drawn back to Oscar and his lips, as he kisses me passionately.

It’s snowing outside but Vanessa’s a smart girl. I’m sure she’ll think of somewhere warm to curl up, I reason, dropping her on the doorstep and locking her out. Oscar is naked and ready, presenting his stolen pussy eagerly.

“So I can stay?”

“Don’t worry about Vanessa. A cat is for life, not just for christmas.”