A Naughty Kitten Pt. 01

Eight o'clock found me brushing my fingertips over my clitoris, teasing myself with a trickling, agitating pleasure. Master was coming home tonight. He had been gone a long time - over two months, overseeing the opening of a new overseas branch. In Paris! But, there had been complications that kept him there longer than expected. That was about all I knew. I knew he was in upper management, and that I could comfortably spend a little money without creating problems for us.

I lay naked in his bed, waiting. Waiting for him to come home, but, (more immediately) waiting for his answer to my earlier question. In the meantime I kept my rubbing to teasing levels, but I had been at it for so long, I could feel my juices sliding down my buttcrack, and onto the pillow I was lying on. Master's pillow. That was a little liberty I had been taking ever since I had been left alone. I had messed it up pretty bad at times, like the afternoon I took it to our hammock when I was ovulating and read a steamy novel until twilight. At this point, the pillow really needed to just be thrown out.

I knew that I was being a bad kitten, but I was looking forward to his reaction when he smelled me on the fabric later. He would either love it, or he would punish me for not keeping a clean enough home in his absence. Hopefully, both.

I kept rubbing. There was one thing I had a good understanding of regarding his work life. He had a sexy, blonde PA. I knew that she had accompanied him to Paris, and it took some serious mental gymnastics on my part to keep from succumbing to jealousy and worry.

That is, I trusted Master. I gave him everything I had to offer, and in return he loved me and looked after me. So long as I remained his devoted kitten (his preferred pet name for me), I knew I had nothing to worry about. Well, I knew he got plenty of extra value out of his PA under normal circumstances, so what might happen on a prolonged trip such as this I could only imagine. But, I trusted him not to fuck her. You see, my Master enjoyed his games at work as much as he did at home, and he was pretty open with me about the rules.

"Ahhhhh, mmmmmm," I was close. If I didn't hear back soon... "When the Master goes away..."

My phone beeped, and I pounced upon it. It was from Master, and my heart raced as it always did.

Denied. My plane was late touching down, but I'll be home soon enough. Please wait till then, my sweet kitten.

I dared not go back to my rubbing. I had asked for permission to cum, and Master had said no. He normally said yes, but I still had to ask - even when he was away. Unfortunately, my Master was a busy man, and many of my requests had not been seen in a timely fashion, forcing me to stop my self-abuse and pine for him in some other way. Well, I hadn't always stopped. Sometimes, after a few glasses of wine, or when I had awoken in the middle of the night with slickness between my thighs - well, I came up with a little variant of an old saying.

When the Master goes away, the cat cums from her play!

But this time, he had explicitly denied me, and I purred with delight. As far as I was concerned, his denial came with a promise. When he came home, he would play with me. He was not too tired from his many long hours in transit, not too tired for me. And so, I put my orgasm on hold, and got the things out I needed for my plan.

Master had mailed me a lingerie set from Paris, and I liked to imagine he had carefully picked it out from an exclusive little boutique in a dirty side alley of Montmartre. It was all black lace with sheer parts, and the bra featured heart shaped peek-a-boo cutouts for my perky brown nipples. I put it on, and admired the way it framed my firm little breasts, and pushed them up even higher than they sat naturally.

The matching panties were more modest at the front, but the back was mostly sheer for the moderate cheek coverage they provided. The fun part was that they too featured the heart shaped hole - right over my rosebud!

Next to go on was my collar - thin black leather, studded with sparkly diamontes. It was my favourite accessory, gifted to me when we first met a few years ago. Our relationship had become of the dominant/submissive variety by the end of the first date - which ended with me picking out the most significant gift of my life at an open-late adult store. I could never forget the way my heart raced when he touched me for the first time, as he carefully fastened the collar around my neck while I held up my long, dark brown hair, exposing my nape. His fingertips had brushed my skin only a little more than necessary, but it had created sparks on the top of my head, and all the way down to my pussy.

After mere months I had moved into his home. The place was no mansion, but it was fitted out with every modern luxury, yet the furnishings were oddly boutique, with plenty of erotic art to keep my mind from straying too far from my role. But aside from entering a domestic relationship with him, the only thing that changed was convenience. I was, ever since that magical moment in the adult store, riding a roller coaster of a madness inducing love, naughty games and lots of passionate sex.

"Now this kitten belongs to me." Those had been his words once the collar was fixed in place; the first time he used that name for me. I giggled nervously, not quite believing that the name would stick. Not believing that I was truly going to give myself to him, body and soul. Presently I gazed into the mirror of my dresser, and I reflected that it had become my truth - I was, indeed, his 'kitten'. I was short and petite, with a round face that he told me was uncommonly cute. Since we met, I've been growing my hair ever longer and longer. It's naturally pretty straight, but after investing about an hour into the iron earlier, it was easily reaching to my butt.

Yes, I had prepared myself well for him. I had recently gotten my legs waxed, and I had been rubbing cocoa butter over my entire body for the past week. I had, however, skipped some key grooming responsibilities, and I wasn't sure how that was going to go down. But I had put some substantial efforts into taking the name of 'kitten' to a new level tonight, and I rationalised that my indiscretion was all in the interest of that.

I opened a fancy box that I had repurposed from some antique silverware that we had yet to use as long we'd lived together, and took out one of my recent purchases. A headband, with big, black faux fur ears. Cat ears, for Master's pining kitten! I put them on, but kept some hair at the sides out of the headband. I wanted to hide my ears, and I somewhat succeeded. I beamed at the mirror, reassuring myself of the cute, no-longer-entirely-human face that beamed back.

I made a little decision. "No make-up tonight." My face was still flushed from my efforts stalking along the edge of orgasm, and I was confident enough in my natural looks.

I glanced at the other item in the box, and scrunched my nose. I still don't know how I had gathered the courage to purchase it, and I wasn't sure where I would find the courage to wear it. For now, I closed the box, but left it out for later consideration.

I threw on my black silk kimono, and it was job-done. No stockings or heels tonight; I had done enough, and my appeal would be in the relative simplicity of this look. I wasn't a fantasy stripper, just a bored house pet pining for her master to come home already and fuck her naughty little brains out.

There was still an hour left, and I set up the mood lighting in the living area, put on some romantic music, and then got busy in the kitchen. I had planned something much fancier than usual, salmon parchment with confit potatoes, and I timed the cooking so it would be ready just before his taxi pulled in. As an added bit of fun, I got the Baileys out of the fridge, and put it next to a saucer. Though for now, a glass of wine or two would suffice while I got to work.

It was later - a little later than I would have liked - when the flash of headlights coming through the windows awoke me from an alcohol induced cat-nap. I sat up tall, hopeful that at last he had arrived, and then winced at a certain unfamiliar sensation that followed that particular movement. I had finished the parchments some time ago; they had probably gone cold where I had left them on the bench. I had put off my re-visit to that box containing my embarrassing purchase as long as possible, but I was as proud as I was nervous now that I had seen my plan through to 100% completion.

The rest, of course, was up to Master.

The sound of a car door. Yes, it was him! I leaped to my feet and skipped over to the front door. My kimono sash had come loose, and so I fixed that. I would strip all my clothes off in a moment if he asked it of me, but for now I wasn't giving up any of my surprises for free.

I stood behind the front door, and there I waited. It was a bit embarrassing, but I clasped my hands behind my back and tried my best to look cute. The pose naturally thrust my chest forward, and I lent my confidence to the effect of the push-up bra behind a thin layer of black silk. It might seem like a no-brainer to open the door for my Master and husband, but one would be mistaken to assume I catered to his every need. I was responsible for keeping the house clean, but I was not his servant. I was responsible for keeping his balls drained, but I was not a sex slave.

I was his house pet, and I was presently over-eager to receive his attention and praise when he walked through the door. I had been pining for him since I watched him pass through it over two months ago, and now that he was back, my heart was beating out of my chest.

The door opened.

Ahhh, shit!

Master was there, but he was not alone. He held the door open for the woman who dragged his suitcase behind her. Beyond, the taxi still waited in the driveway, and so I stood there in full view of two strangers, looking my most ridiculous.

Like a deer caught in headlights I held my pose, though I fidgeted with my fingers and toes and prayed that I wouldn't have to wait much longer for my hard-earned alone time with Master.

"Oh," the woman said, obviously surprised to see a human waiting on the other side of the door like a weirdo. "Excuse me, Miss Koubek. We thought you might have already been in bed." Master's PA, Genevieve, shuffled past me with the suitcase. The sexy blonde one, or so I had heard. Well, she was those things, but the reality turned out to be quite different to the image in my mind. And I couldn't help but resent her a little less, now that she was suddenly a real person.

Actually, Genevieve looked a little older than Master, probably 10 years my own senior. Large breasts, I noticed, only sort-of contained under her low-cut blouse of white silk. But she was immaculately presented even after a day in transit, and she was pure elegance and sophistication as she sauntered past me with Master's luggage. Big butt, too; though I knew that her short pink skirt made it look even bigger. Her thick thighs were clad in beige pantyhose; she was perhaps not the ideal of female perfection I had feared, but the way she dressed and carried herself was undeniably sexy.

As she walked, she left a trail of voluptuous confidence that surely turned heads. She was everything I wasn't. I was a petite, underdressed wild animal. A stray in my own house.

"Good evening, pretty kitten." Master's voice melted my fears, if not my nerves, and I spun my head back in front of me. I opened my mouth to respond, but the closeness of him in the flesh took my breath away. Was he always so tall? Of course, but my eyes were constantly flicking from my own feet, up to his handsome face, and back down again.

In the end, I just smiled sheepishly and hoped that I was still cute enough for him. Hoped that he would notice and appreciate every effort I had put into this evening, and that I would be enough for him.

He stepped closer. I glued my eyes to my fidgeting toes, but then his touch came under my chin. Warm, strong, but uncalloused, his fingers rubbed my skin affectionately before he tilted my face up to him.

"Did my kitten miss me?" I managed to nod slightly before his face was upon me, and I wanted to consume his lips the moment they pressed over my own.

"Mmmmm," I moaned, my senses overloaded and my brain over-excited as I accepted his warmth, his moisture, his love. He smelled just like him. If he had been wearing aftershave, it had probably worn off over the course of his flight. It was a smell I had been missing, and I relished it as much as I did his every subtle touch, as well as the not-so-subtle. My instincts compelled me to wrap my arms around him, but I resisted. I kept my hands clasped over my butt, so when he rested a large, casual hand atop my breast, all I could do was push my chest out and kiss him harder. I expected my nipple had already firmed up for him, but he didn't seek it out.

Instead, he broke off the kiss, just as I was about to slip my tongue into the midst.

"Yes, ass-istant, help yourself."

"Huh?" I mumbled, and then I realised that was the first utterance to come from my mouth thus far.

"They look amazing, Miss Koubek, thank you so much." Genevieve (who apparently accepted being called by another name) appeared again, holding one of my salmon parchments, sealed in its little wax paper bag so that there would be no leakage.

"Oh, you're... you're welcome. I hope you like it. Will you be... joining us for dinner?"

She didn't answer me directly, instead looking to Master. "Mr Latham? Do you intend to extend my services this evening?"

"No, you should go. My kitten went to a lot of trouble for just the two of us, I'm sure. Did you manage to complete your extra assignment?"

"Sir, ummm. More or less..." Genevieve looked uneasy.

"Elaborate, please." I recognised Master's tone - it carried a certain blunt authority that he reserved for commands of an erotic nature. More generally, (and I assumed, when addressing his PA regarding genuine work matters), he would not come across so condescending. Genevieve gulped, and glanced at me nervously before focusing back on Master.

"I've kept the ben-wah balls inside me all day, just as Sir instructed." I smiled when she said that. I was already jealous of her 'assignment', but I enjoyed watching my rival go from all prim and proper, to overtly embarrassed. In my mind I put myself above her in our little hierarchy, despite the fact that I was the one dressed as a feline in lingerie.

Master, typically, showed no emotion at the revelation that his PA had spent the entire day with two steel balls rubbing against the internal walls of her vagina. "And, your readings?"

"Ummm, not quite. As you instructed me to re-cross... each time I came across a certain word... but I wasn't allowed to... well, Sir, I had to read some parts really slowly. I guess I ran out of time, even though I kept trying until the taxi pulled up just now."

"Yes, Genevieve. It was an exercise in control for my ass-istant in training. I intentionally picked readings that used the word 'pussy' a lot. Each successive story-" The woman crossed a leg in front of the other, and back again. I noticed her cheeks visibly flushed now. "-should have been more indecent than the previous. Did you find it so?"

She nodded. "I'm actually up to the final scene of the last reading."

"I see." Master looked as if he were vexed, but I knew it was just him playing his games. He would have known exactly how much content to assign her so that the goal was just a little out of reach - unless, of course, she had been able to master the lesson it served. A lesson in control over one's orgasms. It was a lesson he had been teaching me, too. As a student I showed very little promise, but I liked to think he preferred it that way. "Monday is going to be really busy, too. But I'll have you report to my desk between my morning appointments for a spanking, please. You may do as you wish this weekend, just make sure to finish that final reading."

"Thank you, Sir." She sounded pleased, whether from the promise of a future spanking or being given the green light to seek sexual relief, I wasn't sure. "Ummm, does that mean I can remove the ben-wah balls?"

"That wouldn't be appropriate right now, would it? Please wait till you get home. Although... do you have any petty cash to tip our driver?"

"Cash? Ummm, I believe I haven't changed it from euros yet."

"I asked you to do that before leaving LAX, did I not?"

"Sorry, Sir. I've been... a little distracted today."

"Keep the petty cash. You can take off your panties, and tip the driver with those instead."

"My... my panties?" She seemed distressed by the instruction, but not especially shocked. If it were me... well I just can't imagine it. Master had me do much ruder things, but never involving a stranger!

"Yes, ass-istant, your panties. Soaked through as they may be from a day spent playing with your pussy..." at mention of 'pussy', Genevieve repeated the ritual with her legs. I caught her eyes fluttering at the end, and knew that in opposition to her professional facade, she was well and truly at her limit. "Our driver was hardly subtle in his admiration for you - even going as far as to train his mirror to best observe your leg work on the way here. So, how better to tip him on his late-night shift than to put on a show? Just like you've been practising."

I pursed my lips. Master had been home just a few minutes, and I was getting more turned on by every word that passed through his. What he didn't mention explicitly, was that Genevieve's new task would force her to remove her pantyhose as well. With instructions to make a show of it, she should know to peel off one item at a time. Slowly, with knees up and feet pointed. At least, that's how I pictured it. But wait - exactly what practising did Master refer to?

"I hope you will go to bed tonight feeling very embarrassed, knowing that a stranger is enjoying your very personal item, and learning the distinct musk of your wet pussy."

She crossed her legs yet again, but now looked extremely uncomfortable, breathing heavily, and almost dropping the salmon parchment she had claimed. Call it a petty swipe in the name of deep seeded rivalry, but I pounced on the situation. "Pous-see" I spoke slowly and deliberately, with absolutely no subtlety with regard to context. I can be such a brat!

Genevieve looked at me with a dropped jaw, but kept her hesitation brief, before crossing her legs for the third time in quick succession. But, she didn't get as far as the uncrossing before her eyes fluttered again. This time, she buckled at the knees, pressing her free hand hard up against her crotch. Her breathing was frenzied gasps, and that hand over her skirt shook as a succession of spasms took control of her body.

"Oh! Mr Latham? I'm... sorry... I..."

Master replied calmly, "it's ok, Genevieve," and I was disappointed. I could tell she hadn't been able to enjoy her orgasm, but it was still an orgasm. Shouldn't she be in trouble? "Lucky for you, I just said that you were now free to do as you pleased. But it still isn't appropriate for you to relieve yourself like that in front of my sexually frustrated house pet, so consider your Monday spanking doubled." I cringed at the way Master referenced me in front of his PA, but I was more embarrassed for her when he elaborated. "It will be a long day for you, my ass-istant in training, as you try to go about your duties with such a sore, red bottom."

I pushed my perceived advantage harder. "Hers is really big, Master. I bet you're really busy at work. Will you even have enough time to make the whole thing sore and red?"