Kitten and the Wolf

I glanced at the two men at the bar, and it occurred to me that one of them was in all probability a woman. The man had a hand in her crotch; her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply. I studied the whips hanging on the wall and wondered which would hurt most. The bullwhip, I decided, was absolutely out. I had seen that Indiana Jones movie.

Rob came back and said, "Ready."

I got up and followed him out of the bar. He led me farther along the corridor to an oaken door with the number "6" on it. He opened the door with a key and gestured me in.

3. Fluffy Kitty

At first glance the room was like an expensively furnished hotel room. But over the king-size bed, instead of the usual pastoral scene, was a large black and white photograph of a naked woman who appeared to be on tiptoe, bent over nearly double, hands cuffed behind her with gleaming cuffs. Her back and legs were visible, but not her face or bottom, except for the very top of her crack, from which a shiny steel bar seemed to sprout. A ring at the end of the bar was attached to a taut chain extending up out of the frame. Staring at this, I shivered a little, knowing and not quite wanting to know how that steel bar was fastened to the woman's backside.

When I was able to tear my gaze away, I saw that a cross like the one in the barroom was attached to the wall next to the bed. The opposite wall was brick, with three iron rings fixed into it about six feet high and six feet apart, and three more directly under them, near the floor. Farther along on this wall was a rack holding a selection of items - whips (but no bullwhip), what looked like an ostrich feather on a stick, leather cuffs, neat coils of rope hanging from pegs, and, prominent at the top of the rack, some large shears with angled snips. In the ceiling above the open space between the bed and the door was a sturdy steel hook, and there were cleats every few feet along the walls, about four feet above the floor. In one corner of this open space, not far from the bed, was a comfortable leather chair.

Through the door of the bathroom at the far end of the room, I could see an oversize bathtub. I wondered what other goodies were in there.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Not scared yet?"

"Not yet," I said.

"Good," he said. "Why don't you have a seat? We have one or two more things to talk about."

He gestured towards the leather chair, and I sat.

He sat on the edge of the bed facing me and said, "Do you ever imagine yourself as something else, you know, in your fantasies? A little girl, an animal of some kind? A piece of furniture? A movie star?"

This was a hard question - not because I didn't know the answer, but because I'd never told anyone about this fantasy. I must have looked uncomfortable, because he said, "All answers are good, you know. And your secret is completely safe with me."

In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought. I said "A kitten" in a little voice that surprised me by sounding like a meow.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, a triumphant hiss. His eyes gleamed, and he said, "I like kitties. Very much." He got up and went to a closet back near the bathroom. He opened it, and I could see it was all shelves inside, crammed with things I couldn't make out. But there were labels on the shelves, which he studied for a few seconds before saying, "Ah!" He rummaged on a shelf and pulled out a hairband with two cat ears attached. He turned to me and said, "Would you describe yourself as a short-haired or a long-haired breed?"

I was intensely embarrassed, but excited. I decided honesty would be the best policy, since it was already yielding benefits.

"Fluffy," I whispered.

He put that headband back and took out another with fluffy black ears.

"You've got light brown hair," he said, "but these are black. Will they do?"

"I like them a lot," I said, a little breathless. I was getting excited, thinking about wearing those ears.

He rummaged some more and pulled out a fluffy black tail that terminated in a bulbous object like a small metal onion. "Some tails are attached to belts, but they don't seem to have any of that kind. This is an anal plug. I guess we'd better wait and see if the time comes for it." He laid it on a nightstand.

I had a feeling the time would come - I wanted it to come.

He turned back to the closet and fished out a pink and lacy collar. "A pretty thing for a pretty kitty," he said. He came to me and said, "Stand up."

I was wearing a gray suit - very businesslike, with a skirt, white blouse, and jacket, and plain black pumps. He unbuttoned the jacket, slipped it off me, and draped it neatly over the back of the leather chair. Then he put the ears and collar on me. He stood back to admire his work. "I like it," he said, and led me to the bathroom, where he stood me in front of the mirror. He was behind me, hands resting lightly on my shoulders, looking at my reflection.

I looked at him in the mirror, noticing that I came up just to his shoulders. I tilted my head a little, simpered, and said "Meow." It was embarrassing, doing this, but I liked the feeling - both being kittenish and being embarrassed.

He put his arms around me, under my breasts, and said, "I like it very much. Why don't you just make kitty sounds from here on, unless you have a compelling need to speak as a human being."

"Meow," I said, and leaned back into him.

"Your lipstick isn't kittenish," he said.

I meowed my agreement - it was lioness red.

"Clean that off - you'll find some stuff in the cabinet there," he said, gesturing towards a medicine cabinet off to the side.

I found some cold cream in the cabinet and used that and a washcloth to take off my lipstick. By the time I was done he was waiting with a pink lipstick. "You'd better put this on," he said. "Much as I'd like to do it, I'm sure I'd mess it up." He watched while I applied it. I was starting to look a little silly - air-headed, a toy for him. I liked it.

"One more thing to make you the perfect kitten," he said, and turned me towards him. He was holding an eyeliner.

"Look up," he said, "and close your eyes."

I could feel what he was doing: making up my eyes to make them more oval, like a cat's eyes; drawing a little cat's nose on the end of my nose, and finally three whiskers on either cheek.

"Open your eyes and look at me," he said. I opened my eyes and saw that he'd taken a step back for a better look.

He tilted his head one way, then the other. He put a finger under my chin and turned my head this way and that. Finally he said, "Beautiful."

"Meow," I said, trying to remember if any man had ever told me I was beautiful, not quite believing him, but loving it anyway.

He turned me towards the mirror and said, "What do you think?"

My heart fluttered a little as I looked at my reflection - I'd never thought of myself as cute, but that's what I was now - cute and trivial, very silly and, right now, very aroused.

"Meow," I said, and gave him a kittenish smile.

"Every kitten loves to be petted," he said. "Come back into the room."

I wished I knew how to purr. He grabbed a bath mat from the sill of the tub and returned to the room - I followed him. He sat in the leather chair, spread the bath mat by his right foot, and said, "You can curl up here."

I'm not very big, so the bath mat was plenty for me. I kicked off my shoes, curled up there, and felt contented. He reached down and scratched me behind my ear.

"Mew," I said, and this time I skipped feeling silly. I just wanted him to go on with what he was doing.

"There's a good kitty," he said, and petted my hair, then, after a minute or so, my back.

At length he said, "This outfit of yours isn't kittenish."

I said "Mew," sadly, sat up, and reached for the top button of my blouse.

"No," he said, "I'll do it." He unbuttoned my blouse, pulled it out of the waistband of my skirt, and took it off me. I'm small breasted, but I wore a bra because at my age you need all the help you can get in the battle against time and gravity. The bra hooked in the back, and he reached around, unhooked it, and slipped it off.

"Stand," he said. I did, and he unzipped and pulled down my skirt, leaving my panties. "Down," he said, and I sank to my knees in front of him, feeling good about the direction things were taking.

He put a hand on my left nipple, which was already erect. "Mew," I said, rather urgently, loving the boldness of his touch. He tweaked my nipple with his fingers, then moved over to do the same for the other one.

My panties were soaked: I could feel the coolness down there. I wanted to do something for him now, and I reached for his belt, meaning to undo his pants.

But he swatted my nose with his fingertips and said, "Bad kitty! I'll let you know when it's time for that."

A kitten has to defend her dignity: I bared my claws, took a swipe at his hand, and hissed.

"Oh, kitty," he said, "we can't allow that kind of behavior." He put his right hand on my left shoulder, and with the other he caressed my right cheek. His touch was tender and loving - but suddenly it wasn't. His left hand slipped from my cheek to my neck, and he shoved hard with his right, and all at once, with a bump, I was on my back on the floor. He put a foot on my tummy; his left hand moved from my neck and his right took its place, holding my head down with one hand and tearing at my panties with the other, ripping them to get them off me.

"Eeeeowww!" I cried as he sank two fingers into my sopping pussy and fucked me hard, palm on my clitoris so the sensations spiraled past stimulation into pain - too much! I thought of shouting "Stop!" but I didn't want to end this, knowing without quite forming the thought that the punishment would make the play tastier.

Eventually he stopped. His foot was still on my stomach, and he moved his left hand from my pussy to my mouth so I could suck my wetness from his fingers. "Is kitty going to be good now?" he said.

I said "Mmm" around his fingers, a sad sound, but I was happy that I'd gotten through the little bit of punishment he gave me, that I could take a little pain. I wondered and wanted to find out how much more I could take.

"Come sit in my lap, then," he said.

I did as he said, aware of the contrast between my nakedness and the formality of his dress, and grateful, too, that I'd managed to keep myself slender enough to curl up on his lap, head against his shoulder, while he wrapped his arms all the way around me.

"Kiss me, kitty," he said, and I turned towards him and kissed him, enjoying the tickle of his beard and the faint scent of some masculine soap - and beneath me, the swelling of him let me know that I wasn't the only one turned on here. His lips were aggressive, his tongue penetrating me fiercely - and his hand found my pussy again. His touch wasn't punishing now, but not gentle either - he was pleasing himself, enjoying the sensation of my moisture on his fingers, caring and not caring that what he was doing was almost too much for me and I was gasping into his mouth, my breath hot around his tongue.

He was relentless, holding me tight in one arm, kissing me, finger-fucking me, minutes and minutes of it, till I was writhing and moaning, seconds from coming. . . .

And he scooped me up suddenly, carried me to the bed, threw me down on my back, pried my legs apart with strong hands, and went down on me. His mouth, like his hand, was almost too much on my sensitive spot - he sucked and licked, pausing only for moments so he could dredge my slit with a firm tongue, and I wanted to beg him to be gentler, but I couldn't speak, I could only mew loudly and try to squirm, though his arms around my thighs held me so tight I could scarcely move even that much.

He was possessing me - Yes! - totally in charge of my body. I felt him willing me to come for him, and I submitted to his will, screaming, sensation detonating in me. Who'd have thought a mere kitten could feel this much? Who'd have thought I ever could?

He climbed my body and kissed me, smelling and tasting of pussy. "What now, kitten?" he said, and I mewed softly, a melancholy sound.

"Oh, that's right," he said, "kittens can't talk. Okay, then, what about that tail?"

I said "Meow," a little alarmed. I'd never had an anal plug in me, and I was scared it would hurt, but the thought of ending this scene was unbearable. I gave him a weak smile.

He went to the closet and came back with a little bottle of lubricant. He picked up the tail, which he'd left on the nightstand earlier.

"On your hands and knees, there's a good kitten," he said, and I did as I'd been told, enjoying the feeling of submission as much as I feared the pain.

He petted my back and said, "Relax. I promise it won't hurt much." I concentrated on relaxing my muscles, one at a time - arms, legs, back. I let my head droop.

He petted my bottom and said, "I'm going to lubricate you. Let me know if it doesn't feel good."

He paused - I didn't look - and then his strong hand was spreading cool lubricant in my crack. One finger pressed lightly against my oh so private place, which no man had ever touched, and then probed into me, firmly but gently. It did feel good - the way my muscles pushed back, the slight friction. I sighed with the pleasure, and he pushed deeper and worked his finger around, stretching and widening me, my arousal growing with every movement.

Then after a pause for more lubricant, he pressed a second finger in beside the first. For an instant it hurt, and I flinched and mewed with alarm. He paused, and when I mewed again and backed up a little into his fingers, he pressed on, and I realized that what I'd mistaken for pain was actually a new level of pleasure.

He worked his two fingers in deep, and after he withdrew them, there was the cool of the metal plug, pressing, widening, hurting for an instant - I yowled in protest - and then it was in and the pain was gone, replaced by the pleasure of the wide bulb inside, its stem stretching me, and the delicious knowledge that I now had a kitten's tail! I mewed with contentment and sat back on my bottom, making the plug move inside me and stimulate me more.

He cleaned his hands with a towel and petted my hair, saying, "Excellent kitty!" I was deliciously full: I wished I could have him inside me, so I could know what a cock and the plug would feel like together. But I couldn't make a move - he'd made it clear that he had his own agenda, and we'd follow it. I sat and enjoyed his hand on my head, wiggling my bottom a bit, and making my tail twitch with pleasure.

4. Kitty Cocksucker

He regarded me with open curiosity, wide-eyed and ingenuous. "You're such a beautiful kitty," he said, "with such lovely whiskers, such a pretty, pouty mouth, I can't help thinking how much more beautiful you'd be if you were sucking my cock."

No lover had ever been this frank with me. Heat instantly flooded my face - I'm sure I turned beet red. I hadn't had all that much oral sex in my life - my lovers had been too conservative, too boring. Few of them had gone down on me, and I hadn't often felt motivated to go down on them. Well, this one wasn't boring. I'd been eager to get a look at his cock - I'd gotten myself in trouble trying to undo his pants - but I hadn't imagined giving him oral sex.

Now suddenly there was nothing in the world I wanted to do more. I hadn't even seen his cock - he still had his tie on, his suit jacket, his polished black leather shoes, he was all covered up and neat as a pin, and I was naked in front of him wearing cat ears and a butt plug - I didn't know if he'd be long or short, fat or thin, circumcised or not, and I really didn't care. All I knew was that I wanted, really needed, to suck this man's cock, which right now was making a big bulge in his trousers.

I mewed and tried to look plaintive. I have no idea how to look pouty - I thought his remark about my pouty mouth was probably a fiction.

He unzipped his trousers, reached in, and pulled himself out. He was already erect, thick and circumcised. My mouth was watering. He gestured to me, and I crawled to the edge of the bed where he stood waiting, holding his cock in his right hand.

I opened my mouth and leaned forward, meaning to take him in, but he said, "Uh-uh! I haven't given you permission yet!" I stopped and waited for him.

"Now do precisely as I tell you," he said. "No more and no less. First meow to say hello, and give the tip a little kiss."

"Mew," I said, rounded my lips, and kissed the head of his cock. It was warm and smooth, and I didn't want to pull away.

"That's enough, kitty," he said, and pushed me back.

My pussy had to be dripping, I was so aroused. I looked up into his face and meowed. He watched me with interest.

"Look at my cock," he said. I looked, and he squeezed himself a little - a little clear drop of pre-cum oozed from his slit.

"Do you want it?" he asked.

I meowed.

"You can lick it," he said. "Just one lick, enough to get that drop."

I licked up the drop with the tip of my tongue - it was salty and a little pissy. It wasn't enough; I wanted more. "Meow," I said, trying to communicate my desire with that one syllable.

"Patience, kitty," he said. He lifted himself up, fingers curved around the shaft. I wished I could hold his cock in my hand, but I only had paws.

"You may kiss the frenulum," he said. "Just once."

That little string of skin under the head of him was lovely: I kissed it tenderly.

"Uh-uh!" he said after a few seconds. "That's enough. You're quite the eager kitty, aren't you?"

I was. I meowed insistently.

He backed away from the bed, took two steps to the leather chair, and sat, legs apart, still holding his cock in one hand. "How does kitty ask her owner for what she wants?" he said. "Come and ask."

I mewed impatiently, slid off the bed, and fell forward onto my hands and knees. I crawled to him and rubbed my cheek against his trouser leg, just below his knee. I made a noise in my throat that I hoped sounded like a purr, though I think it probably didn't.

"A good start," he said. I crawled by his leg, rubbing my side, hips, and thigh against him. Back and forth I went, glancing when I could at his cock, which was getting more appetizing with every glance.

"Mmm," he said. "More." I didn't know what else to do. When would he let me suck his cock? I turned towards him, put my hands on his knee, and raised myself into a squat, looking into his eyes. I moved forward and let my knees fall to the floor - my open, wet pussy landed on his foot, and I rubbed myself against his shoe, the laces and bow. They were so hard it hurt, but I was desperate for sensation and didn't care.

"Rowwrrr," I said, loud and demanding, a cat in heat.

"Ohhh, that's nice," he said. He took my head in both hands and guided me to his crotch. I opened my mouth and let him slide me over him, becoming a warm wet sheath for his cock. I closed my lips around him and sucked, drawing my tongue and palate tight for him.

"Yes, kitty," he breathed, and moved my head up and down with his hands. I was kneeling between his legs now, elbows out, resting hands and arms on his thighs, and he pulled my head down, making me take him deeper. It was scary and exciting, the way he was controlling me and using me as his toy.

"Kitty's got to learn to deep throat," he said, and I said "Mmmm" around his cock in fright - I knew I'd throw up if he tried this - but if that was what he wanted, so what?

He pulled out of me a little and said, "Stick out your tongue. Make two fists. Say ah and don't swallow."

I did those things, and he pulled my head down more, slowly and gently, and soon, strangely, he was all the way in me, my lips in his pubic hair, and I hadn't thrown up or even gotten queasy. It didn't matter that his cock was forcing its way through the narrow opening to my throat, that he was hardly letting me breathe - I was in love with the way he was controlling me, with the bruising sensation, with the naughtiness of it.