“No. No. No. No. No,” Master gritted out. Each “no” was punctuated with a smack. For the life of him, he did not know where this attitude was coming from. Muffin’s laziness at the game two nights ago should have been fixed by now. He had ensured that Mittens had gotten the lion’s share of that correction after her hard work making up for Muffin’s lack of attention to his guests. Apparently, more correction was needed. He had found Muffin fingering herself behind the couch just a few minutes ago, and “paws off” was a well-known rule in this household.
Needless to say, he had seized her by her pigtails and hauled her out. Mittens had galloped into the living room with a curious expression. It quickly switched to glee and she followed Master into the kitchen. “What happened, Master?” she mewed in a delicate voice. “Was Muffin being bad again?”
“Yes, Mittens,” he said, opening the fridge with his free hand. Muffin was tugging at her hair, trying to free herself from his grip to scurry away. He held fast. “Muffin was playing herself during nap time. What were *you* doing?”