A Naughty Kitten Pt. 01

"No need to concern yourself, kitten. I don't have any physical touch with Genevieve, but the paddle I use makes short work of all her extra real estate. If you think your spankings are tough, spare a thought for my ass-istant, who has trouble even sitting down for a long time afterwards."

I regarded my rival - had I ever seen someone turn more red in the face? But she held it together, and took a deep breath. "I look forward to your corrective measures, Sir, and will reflect on today's failures." I was impressed. Despite the state of her body, she managed to remain perfectly articulate. In that sense, I wasn't even close to measuring up. But, though I couldn't help but feel insecure, I understood well enough that my Master did not care for those same traits in me.

It was the essence of his nature to dominate us, the two women in his life, and to become the primary influence in our sensuality. Taking control of our orgasms, even when we were home alone, was not a condition he placed on us from the beginning. It was just the natural result of a woman responding to a man who emanated authority on his level.

Before hiring a personal assistant, Master had discussed with me his idea to headhunt a candidate who would be suitable for every aspect of the role as he envisioned it, and Genevieve had promoted her eagerness for the 'extra curricular' elements from the beginning. For her, playing the secondary submissive was her occupation; her actual professional duties were merely the necessary glue to make everything viable. And though the basic arrangement of dominant and submissive was the same for both of us, we had each carved out our own role, and Master had named us accordingly. Genevieve was ass-istant, his subordinate, and I was kitten, the house pet.

We both received well-spanked bottoms with regularity, and we both had our orgasms rationed (might I add - despite this, I enjoyed a lot more of those than before I met Master - and they had become much more fulfilling as well). But Genevieve was a servant who had to perform tasks to a high standard. She worked hard for rewards, and any slip-up was a shameful mistake that required disciplinary action to absolve.

As his lover and house pet, I was mischievous by nature, and 'playing up' and being a little disobedient was expected. I received affection and rewards without having to do anything in particular, and punishment for bad behaviour was a sensual affair that I nervously looked forward to and often instigated. Tonight, I was especially nervous. I doubted even a 'thorough paddling of the ass', as promised to Genevieve, would cut it. Not once Master learned of what a bad pussy cat I had been...

"Kitten, would you please see out our guest? And do refrain from teasing her any further."

I walked with the tall, curvy blonde to the front door. There, she stopped, and whispered into my ear. "Have yourself an enjoyable evening, kitten. But, I do wonder if you have what it takes to maintain his interest."

What was that supposed to mean?

I swallowed hard, but didn't respond. I suppose I'm generally a little on the demure side, and was possibly regretting speaking that 'trigger word' with such cruel intentions. It came as little surprise that my feelings of rivalry were mutual, but I didn't really have the constitution to play out some kind of cold war with this woman.

"Goodbye, Genevieve," Master called from down the hall. "No work on the weekend, please. Monday mid-morning will be perfectly fine for the last meeting's minutes." It was like nothing untoward had happened at all, just a manager politely wishing his subordinate an enjoyable, stress-free break.

"Thank you, Mr. Latham. Then I'll take my leave. Good evening." She took to the footpath, heels clopping over the pavers, her generously portioned ass swaying slightly in her pink skirt. She was all professional elegance once again, but now I knew better. Beneath that tidy business skirt, she had creamed her panties, and inside her cunt rolled those two steel balls, debilitating her every step. She had to be so worked up, I wondered if she would even be able to wait for the taxi ride to finish before she resigned herself to blissful, open masturbation.

I recognised her distress, because it was the same for me. The specifics might have been different for each of us, but the result was the same. Master owned two women, and he knew just how much suffering we needed to endure, so that we might experience each high to its utmost limits.

Do I have what it takes to maintain his interest?

I closed the door and secured the deadbolt, and when I looked down the hall, there he was. My beautiful master, an imposing figure blocking the hallway, and staring at me with his full attention. I had to glance down to ensure the sash of my robe was still tied, because I felt like I was being undressed by the piercing stare of his rare grey eyes.

"Come to me, kitten." I walked slowly, uncertainty restricting my stride, until I stood right before him. At last, just the two of us. At last, he started touching me, atop my head. Oddly, I couldn't feel his hands.

The faux cat ears.

I felt exceptionally silly and expected my face to be turning scarlet despite my darker complexion. To think - I had presented myself like this in front of Genevieve!

"Welcome home, Master," my voice was barely more than a whisper. His hand glided down to my scalp, and then over my real ears, creating instant tingles. "I've been waiting for you. Would you ummm, may I help with your shoes?" He nodded. Although I didn't normally perform such menial services for him, this was something that might happen between any couple from time to time.

I got on my knees, and unlaced his dress shoes. He was wearing dark slacks and a long sleeved, pinstripe business shirt. It seemed he had lost the tie at some point during his transit, but I admired his resolve to dress for business for such an occasion as a travel day. I carefully took off Master's shoes, giving his feet a slight rub. I left the socks on - he would probably be smelly and it wasn't one of his kinks to try and offend me in that way.

"The parchment's smell wonderful, kitten. But it's not dinner I'm hungry for. I caught a hint of the wine on your lips, and I'm a little jealous. They didn't have my favourite on the plane, you know."

I recognised his lead, and retreated to the kitchen. I looked back and caught him staring at my ass. I felt immediately self-conscious - but not because I wasn't confident in how I looked. I was confident. My ass was strong and pert, and he worshipped it using his mouth as liberally as he did his right hand. My concern was something else. I didn't think my little surprise would be too obvious under the cover of my kimono, but again, I felt as good as naked before that stare. He could discern my deepest desires, and measure every drop of wetness. He understood my greedy, lovesick heart. He was my provider who left me wanting for nothing, yet perpetually yearning with unquenched desire.

He made himself comfortable in the den while I busied myself again. I tossed the unwanted dinner into the fridge (we would perhaps have a fancy breakfast instead), and fixed his favourite drink - a classic Manhattan mixed from one of his fancy bottles of rye, sweet vermouth and a dash of bitters. I finished my own glass of wine, popped a cherry into my mouth, and sashayed over to where he waited upon his large leather armchair. I served him the cocktail glass as if I were presenting the Holy Grail itself, and then leaned in close to him. I drew my bangs back over my ears, and carefully pushed the cherry out my lips, into his glass. Master chuckled in appreciation of my silly little stunt, and I beamed.

He sipped the drink and nodded in approval, and then I just stood there, feeling awkward again.

"Would you like to serve me tonight, kitten?" Again, our relationship didn't set a precedent for my 'serving' him, but after two months there was no use in denying my desperation to pamper to his every whim.

"Yes, Master. Anything you desire."

"What I desire, is to see what you're hiding under that robe. But first, I'm feeling in need of refreshment, though I don't have the patience for a shower. Fetch a bowl please, I'll have you attend the most affected parts."

I hastened to obey. I was loving the high class feel of our play tonight, so getting a plastic bucket from the laundry just didn't feel right. Instead, I emptied our decorative crystal fruit bowl, and took a fancy tea towel and cloth out the drawer. I added a pump of hand soap to the bowl, half filled it with warm water, and hurried back to Master. I immediately noticed he had cast away his socks and belt, hinting at the two areas he expected my attention.

I did his feet first, washing each in the bowl and wiping them with the cloth, before drying them off with the towel. I made sure to kiss every one of his toes as I finished with each foot. I wasn't exactly 'into feet', but I was into my Master.

I could feel my pulse accelerating as I got to the next part. I undid the buttons and fly on the front of his pants, and slipped my hands under the waistbands of both his pants and underwear. He said nothing to indicate that I was premature with this, that I had misunderstood him, and he even lifted his weight so I could easily pull his clothing down. My fingers started trembling when his glorious cock sprung free. Well, he wasn't even half way hard yet, but he was glorious to my greedy eyes. He was large, though not huge I suppose, but perfectly thick for my tastes, and the slight curve once rigid was just a pleasant aesthetic that I could have happily taken into my mouth or pussy right then and there.

"No kisses this time," he said sternly. "You haven't earned that yet, kitten." I blushed from his comment, for he had read my mind. I had been ready to suck him off instead of cleaning him with the cloth, but apparently such a service was a privilege that I would have to earn!

As was expected of me, I worked over his crotch with the wet cloth. I wiped over his pubic area, his thighs, and finally, his cock and his scrotum. I gave his balls a light rub through the cloth as I cleaned away all his sweat and smell from his painfully long flight and tedious waits at airports. I dared to use my hand to grasp his shaft. He was warm in my hands, and I could feel the veins pulsating as his arousal increased. I pulled his foreskin back, and gently wiped the underside of it, before moving onto his glans.

I took my time there, being gentle but thorough, until I was completely satisfied of both his cleanliness, and that I had inspired him into the full glory of his phallic form. I wanted to straddle his meat right away, Lord knew I was wet enough. But, I knew there was still too much fun to be had before that.

"Good job, kitten, I'm much more relaxed now. Although, there is something missing from my drink."

I frowned. Whisky, sweet vermouth and bitters. That was how I always made it. "That's how I always make it," I repeated a little too loudly. A little too proudly.

"That's how everyone makes it, but I was hoping for a special touch that only my gorgeous sex kitten can provide. A flavour I've been missing out on for too long."

I raised my eyebrows. I was pretty sure I followed his drift, but it seemed rather crass. But it was perhaps the greatest freedom in our relationship, that I could do exceptionally rude things without needing to feel ashamed. Master carried that for me each time he gave an order.

I took his glass with one hand, and reached under my kimono with the other. I navigated the smooth skin of my inner thighs, and tucked a finger in under the side of my panties. It slipped easily into my slick vagina, and I rotated it to collect a decent sized sample of my juices. I was too embarrassed to look at Master as I worked through my task, but from his silence I knew that he was scrutinising every movement of my wrist behind the silk.

I was keenly aware of the proximity of his erect penis, now cleaned and ready to be sucked on. Inevitably, pressing into my front wall was starting to feel a little too good. It wasn't unusual for him to command me to masturbate in his presence, but right now I needed to stop. I lifted my finger to my own nose first. I smelled appropriately musky and slightly tangy. I smelled just how he liked me. I wiped my cream over the edge of the glass, and gave it back to him as quickly as I could. He held it aloft and watched my own personal garnish sliding down the inside of the glass.

When he sipped from it, he kept his mouth clear of my pussy juice, instead preferring to breathe it in. I loved that he obviously enjoyed the smell and taste of my downstairs, but there was something a little unsettling about this. Still, if he wanted it kinky tonight, then I was glad to have at least one solid surprise of my own ready. My own idea, executed on my own volition. I sure hoped he would appreciate my efforts, because taking the initiative to this degree was a first for me.

"Perfect kitten, thank you. I'll see what's under your robe now." I watched him pull his pants back up, and was disappointed to see my prize denied from me even after doing what he asked.

I focused on the new task, though I knew that revealing the twist in my getup was going to be epicly embarrassing for me. I put the bowl of water safely down at the far end of the coffee table. I stepped in close to him, pushing his knees apart so I could stand between them. I untied the sash on my kimono, and tried to think of something sexy to say.

"Of course, Master. This body is for you, so please enjoy me." I cringed inwardly - did I not sound just so incredibly silly? But Master didn't so much as crack a smile. His eyes were on me. There was no reason to keep him waiting any longer.

I opened the kimono around my body, while doing my best to thrust my small chest forward. All of my olive skin was revealed, cool air kissing me in a hundred places, for the silk didn't really breathe, and I had gotten quite warm under there. I glanced down to observe my little mulberries poking through the heart shaped windows in my new bra.

Abruptly, his hand was upon my breast. I felt hopeful that I remained the principal object of his desires, and I leaned forward further so that he could grope me to his satisfaction. He squeezed just roughly enough to show he wasn't shy, before pinching and pulling on the nipple, drawing a high pitched gasp from me. It hurt a little bit, but it was a pain I loved - my tender parts being assaulted by his warm, passionate touch.

After favouring both my breasts equally, he withdrew, leaving both my nipples erect and ready, but cruelly abandoned. Master was staring me up and down, his manhattan forgotten while he drank in the sight of my slim figure. I pushed the kimono over my shoulders and let it fall to the ground. I had one leg crossed in front of the other. I hoped it looked sexy, but the real reason was that I was trying to hide a certain detail for as long as I could.

But, it was finally time for the big reveal. In essence, this initiative was a symbol of my devotion as his house pet. Of my willingness as his plaything, and my total surrender as his lover. Slowly, I uncrossed my legs, and parted them, so that my new tail would be seen dangling between my knees. And when I did, Master's eyebrows took off from his forehead. Success! He didn't move, laugh, or anything. But I could tell he approved, and I basked in the aura of his silent praise.

Then, I risked ruining it all - but now that I was disrobed, he would find out soon enough even if I tried to hide it. "Master, I decided to really try and become your fantasy sex kitten. Though, I'm afraid I might have taken it a little far for your tastes." I folded my arms atop my head, and in my nervousness I immediately took to caressing the fuzzy ridges of my ears. Just in case it wasn't obvious enough yet, I turned at my hips, to better face an armpit to him. An armpit adorned by a tuft of soft hair that was quite unbecoming of a young woman, at least in most modern cultures.

He didn't say anything right away, and I found myself breathing heavily, my breasts rising and falling dramatically as I awaited his praise or his rebuke. I spied a bead of sweat clinging to the end of a dark brown strand, and second guessed my decision to forgo applying any anti-perspirant. I didn't produce a strong odour; I didn't think he would find it offensive. Besides, I had strategically placed my Chanel here and there, and I didn't want to confuse Master's senses with too much going on. I wanted to draw him in with a subtly perfumed nape, cleavage, wrists, and just above and inside my knees. Once I brought out the animal in him, I knew his interest would shift towards the natural scents of my underarms, pussy and ass. That was, of course, assuming he could reconcile the changes I had made...

"Hairy armpits? Well colour me surprised..."

He didn't sound upset, and he didn't look revolted. My confidence lifted a little, and I said, "I'm a bit furrier now, just like a real cat. What do you think, Master? I was worried it wouldn't be to your taste."

"It's not. Well, I never thought about it much. I suppose well-waxed armpits aren't in our agreement, so I have no cause to punish you." I swallowed, recalling what was part of our agreement. But before I could follow that thought further, he continued. "Ask me again later. In any case, I'm pleased that my gift was well received."

Gift? Oh, the lingerie.

My nipples were like new flower buds, plump but not yet opened. I was almost surprised by how embarrassing it was to have them exposed despite that I was wearing a decently supportive bra, but so long as it earned his approval there was no problem.

"Now, kitten, turn around, and lean onto the coffee table. I want to see your ass in those panties. And I want to test if by poking my finger through the little peek-a-boo spot I spied in the store, if I'll go straight into your tight little asshole."

I sucked in a sharp breath of air. Master could be so lewd! "Of course Master, I'll do as you say. But please don't be disappointed, I don't think you'll be able to do that thing exactly." I slowly turned, and after I had, there came his low resonating chuckle. My face was burning up. I knew why he laughed. But I did what I was told, leaning forward and grasping the coffee table, keeping my legs straight and back arched to best show off my tight little booty.

"I hear pussy cats don't like having their tails pulled." I spun my head back, and saw my 'tail' in his hand. It was a fine item of the same flavour as my black fur ears, with some wire in it so it could be shaped just a little bit. But it wasn't merely clipped onto the top of my panties as you'd expect from the cheaper costume options.

As threatened, he tugged gently on my tail, and I squirmed as the attached butt plug made me feel exquisitely uncomfortable and naughty.

We didn't do much 'butt stuff', and though my tail included probably the kindest butt plug in production, it was still an unfamiliar intrusion that had kept me feeling perpetually ridiculous since I finished cooking and returned to the bedroom to 'complete my outfit'. I had got the idea when I first tested out the new panties weeks ago, and I had giggled like a schoolgirl when I added it to my shopping cart along with the matching ears.

When the time came to make my final preparation just a little while ago, getting the tapered plug deep into my tight virgin ass had been even harder than I had anticipated. A few awkward poses, a generous squirt of lube, and repeated self-talk of "just relax" had eventually ended in success.