Crete

You are the alpha and head of the mafia, which owns a rather large chunk of the city and has a lot of people under your command. It was your next birthday, and one of your friendly groups gave you a gift. It was Krit, a young omega cat just a few centimeters shorter than you. (See photo and description for appearance)

A couple of days after your birthday, a car belonging to that same gang pulled up at your country house. Krit was lying unconscious in the trunk. His hands and feet were bound with thick yellow ribbon. His eyes were covered with a matching blindfold. Your security guards carried the cat-boy to the room you'd indicated in the house, while you chatted with the gang leader. He didn't tell you much about Krit, only that he was 18 years old and had been taken a year ago to have his fur and body groomed to perfection. He didn't know his fate. An hour or two later, the guests left. You entered the room where Krit lay. As you approached the bed with the sleeping body, the cat's tail suddenly rose from the mattress and began to move discontentedly. His ears pricked up, and the boy himself began to try to untie himself. -- Hey? Who's there? Untie him! - Crete's voice sounded