Kitten [18+] ✔️

Ch. 1 - Katherine

There are times when it feels like the universe is out to get you.

You lose your wallet. You sleep through an exam.

Your father walks out on you.

Your mother loses her marbles.

My whole life, the odds have been stacked against me. Growing up is hard enough already; add onto it a barely functioning single mother, living paycheck to paycheck, crippling abandonment issues, and bullying over your appearance, and you get... me. Katherine Addis. Former gangly, awkward beanpole with uncontrollable hair and acne who dropped out of high school at fourteen.

In books, girls like me are the heroines. In exchange for our suffering, we get the world. We grow into beautiful, competent women, work our butts off for a kickass career. We get to see the people who put us down get what's coming to them, watch them fall from grace because they peaked early. We get success, vindication, and respect.

Not me.

All I got was a visual update and a degrading job to keep my mother housed, fed, and medicated. My gawky body filled out over the years, my acne disappeared as my hormones stabilized, and I started using products and straightening my hair.

People were treating me differently long before I realized how much I'd changed, but even going from a scrawny girl to a statuesque woman couldn't erase the self-consciousness I struggled with every day. Until I met my boss.

The thrumming bass accented each step of her approach in the darkened dressing room, the smell of sweat and cheap perfume permeating the area full of scantily clad women. "Kitten!" her silky voice called out, turning her frosty blue eyes on me appreciatively. "Mmm, look at you today – recent wax?"

She spoke as if we were having the most normal conversation in the world, leaning down to rub her cheek against mine affectionately. Miss Elle had scouted me when I was still working as a waitress, struggling to earn enough to support myself and my mother. She taught me everything I know, from how to dance in four-inch stilettos to what kind of expressions encouraged men to tip the most. She coined the signature cat-eye and ears of my stage persona – 'Kitten' – a character that had helped me shed my inhibitions with so many eyes on my naked body.

Yeah, I'm a stripper... on paper. Off the record, maybe a bit more than that, but who doesn't have a side gig these days?

"You notice everything, Miss Elle," I returned when she pulled back, flipping my now-silky black locks over my shoulders so she could inspect me better. The clipped-on black cat ears blended in with my hair perfectly, but they had to be checked before every performance to make sure they wouldn't come loose on stage. I flinched when she tugged one, then the other, nodding in approval before holding my cheeks in her palms.

"And a facial treatment? You're especially soft-looking today, sweetheart," she grinned, urging me to stand and turn so she could see everything.

Just a cheap face mask from the pharmacy, but sure.

"I love the new tail – you'll have so many more options with this than you did with the short one." Pulling the plush black fake tail forward, she ran the tip from the base of my black belled collar between my breasts to my navel suggestively. "The boys will especially like this sort of visual – treat that tail very nicely."

I nodded down at her, almost a full foot above the older woman in my heels. From the way she was appraising me especially closely, I could already tell what she wanted. "Is there a private session tonight?" I asked, smiling knowingly as she laughed, tossing her blonde curls over one shoulder.