The other day I discovered a particularly choice example of the genre, called Rejar. I read the hilarious blurb, and was so entertained that I steeled myself to look between the covers. Yes, this is as appalling as it looks. It's basically about a woman whose cat turns out to be a sex-crazed hunk in a badly explained paranormal disguise, and wouldn't you know it, they fall helplessly into hot thrusting lurve with each other. The cat sleeps on her bed at night, she dreams of sharing an endless night of passion with the same girlie-haired lump of mahogany-chested tedium, and then she wakes up and hey presto! There's no one there, just her cat.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Three things must we learn from this, gentle readers.
1) If you are a slightly lonely single woman, ownership of a cat (or three) is perfectly fine.
2) If you are a slightly lonely single woman, having an active sexual fantasy life is perfectly fine.
3) If you are a slightly lonely single woman, having an active sexual fantasy life that involves your cat is JUST PLAIN WRONG, on oh so many levels.
Just say NO to kittyporn, kids. *whimpers*