My Holiday Crush

Christopher Bloodworth Stories with Teeth

My Holiday Crush

Christopher Bloodworth

I have two things going for me in my life: this stupid kitten that’s purring by my ankles, and my feet.

My feet are feminine.

As a guy it’s kind of embarrassing. Paint my toes, slip on a pair of stilettos, and from the knees down? I’m the perfect woman. Seriously, if you had a police line-up, but could only see from the knees down, you’d pick my calves and feet as the cutest every time.

It’s a gift and a curse.

Can’t get a girlfriend, but my lower fourth can get any guy I want.

Boo-hoo, right?

Right.

Anyways, Simon brought the kitten over along with his gear. He’s thinks she’s got potential. Star quality.

Whatever.

He thought the kitten that he brought last month had star quality too. Her name was Firefly. She had a brown coat and blue eyes. Cute.

As usual, once Simon got the camera rolling, I strapped on my stilettos and played with Firefly. I made her run this way and that with this little wand I have that has bright feathers on the end. She would pounce for the feathers every time.

Then Simon turned on the music. Same song every month.

When Simon hits play, that means it’s showtime.

I dropped the wand and walked over to Firefly. Rolling her onto her back with my toe, I rubbed her belly with my foot.

Firefly suckled the toe of my stiletto, using her claws to hold it in place. I smiled down at her. She was a cutie.

I slowly shifted my weight to the stiletto that had Firefly pinned to the tile. She quit suckling the toe of my stiletto and instead started hissing, trying to get out from under foot. I smiled down and shushed her as I put more and more weight on her little body.

I’m not sure if the point of the stiletto slipped into her belly first, or if the first pop of a rib sounded in the room. Maybe both happened at the same time. Either way, Firefly started panicking.

It was fucking adorable.

She almost got out from under my foot so I had to press down with all my weight. Her chest collapsed in a medley of wet crunches and snaps. Firefly screamed as the point of my stiletto clicked against the tile.

Can you imagine how stepping on a frozen, empty bird’s nest feels?

Now you know what crushing a kitten feels like.

A pool of blood—it’s always darker than you expect—formed beneath Firefly’s hips. Small trickles leaked from both corners of her open mouth. She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

I waited until I saw the life leave her eyes before I lifted my foot and kicked her off. Her flattened body slid across the tile towards the camera.

Simon paid me and I headed home.

The kitten purring at my ankles right now is named Christmas. At least that’s what Simon said her name was. He probably named her that in the spirit of the holiday.

Christmas.

Simon’s a sick fuck.

Anyways, y’all have a nice night. I’m going to play with Christmas.

Simon just turned on the music. Same song every month.

Showtime.

 

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