I was on the hunt for a stud for my best friend’s prized pedigree cat when I accidentally stumbled onto a male model’s profile. Me: [Hey, what are your rates?] Model: [Ten grand a session. Top-tier looks.] I gritted my teeth and agreed. Me: [Deal. Can I film the session?] Model: [You want to film it?] Well, yeah. What if it’s not a successful pairing? The next day, I showed up with my cat, ready for the appointment. The door opened to reveal a masked, doting pet dad who took my breath away. "Filming is fine," he said, his voice a low rumble. "But I don't show my face." 1 My best friend, Zoe, had tasked me with finding a suitable mate for her precious firstborn. As the cat's official godmother, I took the job very seriously. Zoe told me all the prep work—vaccinations and deworming—had to be done a month in advance. After a trip to the vet, I brought Poppy home and started my search for a handsome tomcat while we waited for her to go into heat. Late one night, drowsy and bleary-eyed, I accidentally clicked on someone’s profile. It was filled with pictures of cats. One, in particular, a long-haired Golden Shaded British Longhair, made my eyes pop wide open. Oh. My. God. Those looks were on a whole other level. Suddenly wide awake, I shot him a private message. [Hey, what are your rates?] He must have been a night owl too because the reply was almost instant. [10k.] I scratched my head, baffled. Stud fees were this expensive nowadays? He must have sensed my hesitation. A new message popped up: [He's gorgeous.] I gently shook the sleeping Poppy awake and pointed to the picture on my phone. “What do you think of this one, P?” Poppy just blinked at me before plopping her fluffy butt directly onto my screen. Alright, then! My god-cat wholeheartedly approved of this handsome gentleman! I took a deep breath and typed back: [Deal. Can I film the session?] [You want to film it?] Duh. What if it didn’t take? Me: [It's just for proof. To make sure everything goes smoothly for both parties.] The "user is typing..." indicator lingered on my screen for an eternity. I frowned. What was there to think about? It was a perfectly reasonable precaution for my pet’s safety. Was that so hard to understand? A few minutes later, a new message arrived: […Fine. But the client will need to sign a strict non-disclosure agreement. The footage cannot be shared.] I raised an eyebrow. The stud industry was this professional now? Me: [No problem! And… he’s healthy, right? Physically?] Model: [Five gym sessions a week, very low body fat, powerful core strength. Don't worry.] What? He takes his cat to the gym? Was the pet world this competitive? Then again, cats and humans were both mammals. A strong core probably helped with… performance, right? The thought made a weird kind of sense, and I found myself even more impressed with this tomcat. Not only was he stunning, but he was in peak physical condition. I grinned and typed: [Oh, okay, that's great. What about his… temperament? Is he aggressive?] Model: [Depends on the client. With the right one, he's very gentle and attentive. Puts a premium on the experience.] Oh my god. This was the holy grail of stud cats. He even cared about the experience? Poppy was in for a treat! Me: [Can we schedule for 10 days from now?] [Why the wait?] The ideal time for mating is between the third and fifth day of a female cat’s heat cycle, and Poppy’s was still about a week away. Ten days was the soonest we could do. I figured he probably wasn't familiar with the specifics of female cat biology. So I kindly explained: [We have to wait for her fertile window.] He went silent again. What was it now? Was he shy? After a long pause, he slowly typed: [I just looked it up. You mean her ovulation period, right?] Umm… I guess you could call it that. I didn't argue. [Yeah, basically. It's just the best time to… you know.] […Right. All of the client’s needs will be met.] 2 I exchanged contact info with the stud’s owner, who went by the username "XC," and sent over a deposit. Then I sent the picture of the Golden Shaded dreamboat to Zoe. My best friend, currently honeymooning on the other side of the world, showered me with praise. “That’s my girl! You’re the best godmother ever!” Zoe suggested I check out the stud’s living conditions beforehand. It sounded like a smart idea, so I messaged XC. [Yoo-hoo? What's the… venue… like?] XC: [? The venue…] Yeah, the venue. The female cat is supposed to be brought to the male’s territory. It increases the chance of success and reduces stress. The stud’s owner is responsible for providing a safe and secure environment, like a quiet room with properly screened windows. Unfazed, I pressed on: [Is the environment safe?] This time, the silence was even longer. Finally, a single sentence appeared: [Yeah. You won't get caught.] Caught? Oh, he must mean his cat is gentle and won't scratch. What a little gentleman. I chuckled to myself, remembering the most important question. I sent a winking emoji. [So, uh, what's the… hardware like?] XC: [Excellent.] Oh? Excellent how? I needed details. But he clearly didn't get the hint. I waited, but no pictures or further descriptions came through. I had to be more direct: [Can you be more specific? Maybe a… picture? I need to be sure my baby’s physical and mental well-being are taken care of!] What if this cat was all fluff and no stuff? I couldn't let Poppy suffer for nothing. After another long pause, XC replied: [The dimensions are… impressive. Client feedback has always been… very positive about the experience.] My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Wow! He even had client testimonials! This was a whole new level of professional. I struggled to maintain my composure. [Oh? And… stamina?] XC: […I have a lot of confidence in that department. Clients always leave satisfied.] My heart was racing. Oh. My. God. He was the perfect specimen! Gorgeous, gentle, well-endowed, and he could go the distance! Poppy, your godmother has found you a supermodel! Me: [That's fantastic! So… is there anything I need to do to… assist?] XC: [You can watch from the side. If you need some direction.] Direction? How was I supposed to direct a cat? But I definitely had to be there to supervise. What if the stud got too rough? I had to be there to protect Poppy. Me: [Okay, I’ll definitely be there! By the way, will one session be enough? What if it doesn’t take the first time?] XC: [One is usually enough. If the client requires multiple sessions… there’s an extra charge.] So confident. One and done, huh? I guess that was better for Poppy, less stressful. Me: [I get it! You get what you pay for! So, it's just the one visit?] XC: [Yes. I'll provide my services until you're completely satisfied.] The customer service was impeccable! I clutched my phone, giddy with excitement. This was the best ten thousand dollars I'd ever spent! I sent one last confirmation: [It's a date, then! Ten days from now, I'll bring her over. The rest… is up to him!] XC: [Don't worry. I won't let you down.] 3 A few days later, I was standing outside a high-end apartment building with Poppy in her carrier. Whoa. Does cat breeding pay this well? This place was fancy. My heart pounded as I rang the doorbell. I was excited to finally meet the handsome Golden Shaded, but also a little nervous. Ten grand was a lot of money. This had better work. The door swung open, and I was face-to-face with a masked, doting pet dad who stole the air from my lungs. He was tall, with a lean, muscular frame outlined by a fitted black tank top. A black face mask covered the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of deep, intense eyes that seemed to be… sizing me up. "You can film," he said, his voice a low, magnetic rumble. "But I don't show my face." Whoa. That voice. I snapped out of my daze and nodded quickly. "Right, right. Privacy. I get it." Is this guy an influencer or something? I wondered. He stepped aside to let me in, his gaze falling on the cat carrier in my arms. He frowned slightly. "Oh, Poppy's a little shy," I explained quickly. "And she gets carsick. She'll be fine in a bit. Is… uh… is he ready?" I craned my neck, trying to spot the cat. The man paused, as if processing my words. "Come in. We need to… go over the details." I carried the carrier into the living room. The apartment was stylish and minimalist, but I didn't see any scratching posts, cat trees, or toys. Strange. How could a cat owner's place be this spotless? I set the carrier on the sofa and opened the door. "Come on out, Poppy…" Poppy huddled in the back, eyeing the new surroundings warily. I felt a little embarrassed. I turned to explain, only to see the man reaching for the hem of his shirt and slowly, deliberately, starting to pull it off. "W-wait, wait, wait!!!" I shrieked, nearly dropping my phone. "What… what are you doing?!" His hands froze mid-air, his visible eyes wide with confusion. "…Isn't this what you wanted? Ten grand a session." A cold, dawning horror began to creep up my spine. "What did I want?! I wanted a stud for my cat! A stud! Can't you see what's in this carrier?!" I thrust the carrier toward him, practically shoving it in his face. The man looked at the fluffy, slightly terrified cat inside. Then he looked at my face, which was now burning with a mixture of shock and mortification. The confusion in his deep-set eyes slowly morphed into a tidal wave of gut-wrenching, soul-crushing embarrassment. "...A cat?" "What else would it be?!" "..." The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by Poppy's innocent, questioning "meow." 4 My brain short-circuited for three solid seconds. Then, all our bizarre conversations came flooding back, scrolling through my mind like a cursed news ticker. "He's gorgeous." "Five gym sessions a week, powerful core strength." "Puts a premium on the experience." "The dimensions are… impressive. Client feedback has always been very positive." "One is usually enough." WHOOSH. A fiery blush rocketed from my neck to the roots of my hair. I was so hot you could have fried an egg on my forehead. So this is what social death felt like. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me and my cat whole. The man across from me was clearly having his own meltdown. He yanked his tank top back down with the speed of a hummingbird's wings, leaving an afterimage in the air. His eyes, the only part of his face I could see, darted around the room, desperate for a place to land. Finally, he spun around, giving me his broad, rigid back. "Look…" he began, his voice raspy, "I'm sorry. I… I misunderstood." What could I possibly say to that? No problem, it's my fault for being an idiot who can't read a profile properly? I clutched the cat carrier like it was a live grenade. "So…" I struggled to find the right words. "You're… not a breeder?" His shoulders slumped. "No." "And the cats on your profile…" "Are my pets." "So the ten-grand-a-session thing was for…" "…" His silence was all the answer I needed. My entire worldview had just been shattered. I had spent ten days meticulously researching, filled with giddy anticipation, and had agreed to spend an obscene amount of money… to hire a male escort? For my cat? I looked down at the innocent Poppy, who was now calmly licking her paws. Sweetie, I am so sorry. Godmommy booked you the wrong species. "Well, I should probably get going," I mumbled. I couldn't stay here another second. I just wanted to teleport off the planet. I spun around, ready to make a break for the door. "Wait!" He turned back around and called out to me. I froze, not daring to look at him. Please, just let me go. You can keep the deposit. It’s the price I pay for being blind. "Are… are you looking for a long-haired Golden Shaded for stud?" he asked, his voice hesitant. I nodded stiffly. "My cat… he's the one in the pictures." My head snapped up. He was pointing toward the balcony. I followed his gesture. There, on the top perch of a cat tree in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, sat a magnificent, fluffy, golden creature, yawning lazily in the afternoon sun. The light caught its long fur, making it shimmer like spun gold. The handsome face, the emerald green eyes… it was him. My dream cat. Holy crap. He was real. And a hundred times more stunning in person. The awkwardness of the last five minutes evaporated. My eyes lit up, and I rushed toward the window. "Oh my god! It's him! What's his name?" The man seemed taken aback by my complete one-eighty but answered nonetheless. "…Ten Grand." "What?" "His name is Ten Grand." "…" Well. That was certainly on the nose. 5 I pressed my face against the glass, staring at Ten Grand like a complete stalker. He seemed to sense my gaze, turned his head, gave me a cool, dismissive glance, and went back to watching the world go by. Wow. That aloof attitude. He was just like his owner. I opened the carrier, and Poppy cautiously poked her head out. When she saw Ten Grand, a soft purr rumbled in her chest. She was definitely interested. A spark of hope ignited within me. I was already here, right? Might as well see this through. And honestly, this cat was the most beautiful Golden Shaded I had ever seen. I turned back to the masked man, who was now leaning against a wall, watching me with a complicated expression. I cleared my throat, deciding to just go for it. "So… uh… handsome." His body tensed. "I admit," I said, trying my best to look sincere, "this has been a massive, astronomical misunderstanding. But, look, I really am here to find a mate for my cat, and your cat, Ten Grand, really is ridiculously handsome…" I gestured from Poppy to Ten Grand. "And I think they have a connection! What do you say we just… roll with it?" The man was silent. His mask hid his expression, but I could see the emotions warring in his eyes: embarrassment, then disbelief, and finally… a flicker of amusement? "Let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You want to pay me ten thousand dollars… for my cat to mate with your cat?" "Yes!" I nodded enthusiastically. "Money is no object!" (It was very much an object, but for Zoe's firstborn, I would make the sacrifice.) My earnestness seemed to amuse him. A low chuckle rumbled from behind his mask. It was a nice sound. "Ten Grand… has never been studded before." "That's fine! First time is even better! Means he's clean!" I blurted out. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Why does everything I say sound so weird today? The amusement in his eyes deepened. "And I never planned on using him as a stud," he added. "Just once! Please, just this one time!" I clasped my hands together, shamelessly begging. "Please? Look how cute Poppy is! Their kittens would be absolutely gorgeous! I'll give you one! No, two!" I scooped Poppy out of her carrier and held her up for him to see. Poppy, bless her heart, chose that moment to let out a soft, sweet "meow." The man looked at the cat in my arms, then at Ten Grand on the balcony. He seemed to be seriously considering it. Maybe it was my desperate puppy-dog eyes, or maybe it was Poppy's charm. After a few tense moments, he finally sighed. "…Okay." Yes! I almost jumped for joy!
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