It might’ve been unorthodox for a young lady from a noble family to pick up raw meat with her bare hands, but it wasn’t that different from giving a treat to a dog or cat, and how else was I supposed to feed him?
Come to think of it, my pet cat in my previous life loved fried chicken. Whenever I’d eat it, she would sneak up on me from behind and cat-punch me, then run off with the chicken. That cat’s attachment to food was frightening!
Lars obediently opened his mouth, and I stuck my hand inside.
Chomp!
I should’ve expected that. It doesn’t hurt, though. He didn’t bite down with his teeth.
The people close enough to see what had happened reacted with shock, but I didn’t pay them any mind. When I pulled my hand out of Lars’ mouth, it was soaked with saliva. Lars chewed the meat happily.
I was staring at my sticky hand, wondering what I should do, when a maid brought me a wet towel.
“Tanks!” I thanked the attentive maid.
However, the maid’s face was as pale as a sheet, and her legs were trembling.
I dunno what the problem is, but you should take a break if you’re not feeling well, lady.
But when I tried saying this, the maid responded meekly, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly!”
Why not?
Once I was satisfied with feeding Lars, I moved on to playing with the pads of his giant paws. I touched them with my fingers, then rubbed my cheek against them. Lars seemed content to let me do as I wished.
But they were rough, as you might expect from a giant tiger.
I had a feeling they would be, but still.
Even with a dog’s paw pads, once they became adults, they started to get rough. Kittens were the best; their paw pads were soft and squishy. I couldn’t get enough of touching and playing with them.
After the paw pads, I moved on to his tail.
I petted up and down the long furry tail and squeezed it gently between my hands.
Lars playfully tickled me with the tip of his tail.
My clothing that day wasn’t very revealing, but Lars ran his tail along every inch of exposed skin he could reach; at my neck, cheeks, and calves.
I had to fight not to laugh at the ticklish sensation of Lars’ tail on my skin. I buried my face in his stomach to smother my voice.
Once Lars seemed satisfied and stopped his tickle attack, I was limp from exhaustion after laughing so much.
What are you going to do about it if I have retroactive muscle pain tomorrow?!
Maybe because I was exhausted from so much laughing, fatigue soon overcame me. I used Lars’ stomach as a bed to take a little nap.
Sigh. His stomach has the perfect level of firmness and is soft and warm to boot. Best bed ever!
Good night…