Cathryn was a prude. She always had been, and annoyingly so. She considered that she had a highly developed sense of right and wrong. As a result, she had very few friends. If you asked somebody what she did for fun, they wouldn't have a clue, probably doubting that she ever had fun at all.
Cathryn thought that she experienced fun, at least that was how she saw it. Going to church on Sunday was her highlight of the week. She knew that the few people around her were also, "Good People". Except that they too considered her to be a prude.
She was 33 years old and still a virgin. She did not want that to change until she was married. But she had had very few boyfriends, all of which had become frustrated with her. She allowed them to kiss her, but never in public, never over-passionately, and certainly never with tongues.
Her latest boyfriend had taken her out twice before asking if he could kiss her goodnight – but she only allowed him a peck on the cheek as she stood on her doorstep. On the third date she invited him in for coffee. Having drunk the beverage, he asked if he could kiss her. She allowed him to, but pushed him away when his hand strayed from her waist towards her breast. She made it clear that she did not want, "That sort of thing".
He persevered for one more date. Again, after coffee he asked if he could kiss her. He kept his hands on her waist and did not move them. Just as she seemed to be enjoying the kiss, she broke away.
"Thank you," she said, but it seemed that was all she wanted.
Later, as she saw him to the doorway, he turned, took her in his arms and kissed her deeply again. She seemed to be responding again, but this time didn't push him away. He couldn't help himself, his hands naturally slipped down from her waist to caress her ass. Now she pushed him away and dealt him a stinging blow to the left side of his face.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"So am I," she replied and pushed him out through the door.
She hoped that he would call her and say sorry again, and of course she would forgive him. That was the Christian thing to do. She would tell him that she understood his typical male urges and that she would be only too happy to help him control them.
But he didn't call her and she realised that she had lost him. It took a few weeks for this realisation to dawn upon her, but eventually it did. It was a Friday and all she had to look forward to was church on Sunday.
Cathryn got home, cooked herself a meal and then sat down to read. She had a television, but she didn't watch it very often – there were far too many unsuitable programmes for her taste. Even the comedians she used to like seemed now to rely upon foul language and smutty innuendo.
The book she was reading was boring, but she wasn't tired so she didn't nod off to sleep as sometimes happened. She just sat, staring at the pages as if they were blank.
Suddenly, she had a strange feeling that she was being watched. She looked across the room at the door, which was open, but there was nobody there. The window was on a second floor, so there couldn't be anybody there. And then she realised that she had missed something. There on the armchair in the corner of the room sat a cat. A black cat.
This was not an ordinary cat mind, but a cartoon of a cat. She immediately thought that someone had played a practical joke on her by leaving a cardboard cutout on the chair. But when the cat yawned, she felt as though she must be going mad.
"Oh! Oh, what's happening?" she said tremulously.
"What's happening is that we're sitting staring at each other," the cat said in a deep, authoritative but definitely female voice.
"I'm going mad".
"You already are in most people's book," said the feline.
Cathryn asked, "What...what are you doing here?"
"Well, let's just say that I represent your... dark side."
"Your dark side."
"You mean as in good and evil?"
"No, I don't mean that. I mean dark as in light and dark. Like an Irish coffee. Two complimentary parts of the same thing."
"You're not bad then?"
"Oh, but when I'm bad... I'm very, very good!" the Cat meowed.
"You still haven't told me what you are doing here."
"I'm here to help you live your life. You've been wasting it."
"I have not!" she said indignantly. "I've been leading a good, wholesome life. I've always supported charities and given my time up to help them. I go to church regularly. I pray for others all of the time."
"And what do people think of you?"
"I... I don't know. They think that I'm a good person. But does it matter?"
"Answer me this; if you stopped going to church, would anybody notice?"
"Of course! I mean, they must, mustn't they?"
But then she considered the question. Would they really notice that she was missing? She had flu last year and missed two Sundays in a row. Nobody said a word. Nobody had noticed!
"So what are you going to do about it?" she questioned.
"You mean, what are you going to do about it?
"You are going to start behaving like a normal human being. Doing things that aren't necessarily right, but feel good."
"But not bad things. I couldn't do bad things. Surely my 'light' side would help me fight that?"
"Your 'light' side has had its fucking ass kicked out of here. It won't be back for a long time yet."
"Do you have to use such obscene language? It's not necessary you know."
"Ah, but normal people do swear sometimes. You're going to learn how to do it and we're going to start now."
Cathryn just stared at the Cat. She was absolutely certain that she was not going to use bad language and nothing that the cartoon said was going to change that. Nevertheless, she felt very insecure. Once again she questioned her sanity. But before she could ponder on this for too long, the Cat spoke again.
"That thing that you refuse to do until you are married, what's it called?"
Cathryn paused, and then defiantly said, "Making love!"
"The other word."
"No. I'm not going to say it. I refuse!"
The Cat seemed to smile. It opened its mouth and then began an ear-piercing wail. Cathryn slapped her hands over her ears, but it didn't help. The sound was so awful that it actually hurt.
"Stop. Please stop."
But the sound continued.
"It hurts. You're hurting me. Please stop. All right, ALL RIGHT! I'LL SAY IT!" she yelled.
The noise stopped instantly.
"Go on then," said the cat.
Cathryn took a deep breath and then quietly hissed through clenched teeth, "Fucking."
The wailing began again.
"FUCKING!" she screamed.
The cat seemed to be grinning at her.
"Now that we've got past the first step things should be a lot easier. Tell me what you have between your legs."
She looked down, not comprehending at first, then she said, "Oh! That. I see. You mean my... my... vagina?"
She struggled to get the word out. After all, it was not something that was used in polite society.
The cat laughed, sort of. "The other word. The really bad one."
"Oh no. No. NO! NO! I couldn't possibly say that!"
The cat opened its mouth.
"Ok, I'll say it. Pussy. There, are you satisfied now?"
"You can do better than that."
Suddenly she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. She felt dizzy. The cat wanted her to say that word! Tears began to form in her eyes. Again she took a deep breath, but this time spoke firmly.
"Cunt," she said.
"See? I told you that you could do it. Now I want you to put a sentence together including those two words, to tell me what you really need."
She was confused, but only for a few seconds until she realised what the cat was telling her to say. She capitulated completely. After all, there was nobody else to hear what she was saying, so it didn't really count.
"My cunt needs a damned good fucking," she sobbed.
"Very good!" said the cat. "Maybe, before long, you'll get your wish."
Cathryn blinked away the tears, but when she looked again the cat was gone.
She went to bed and tried to sleep, but found it almost impossible. The idea of what she had done that evening was, almost, exciting.
Waking up at about 8am, she wondered if she had been dreaming the whole thing. She thought that it must have been something that she had eaten. That would be the answer. She finished her breakfast and then went back upstairs to the bedroom. She took a bath towel from the cupboard, removed her pyjamas and then wrapped the towel around herself before walking into the bathroom.
She enjoyed the shower. More than she did usually. She had to stop herself spending too long washing the same parts.
Having dried herself off, she walked back into the bedroom. The cartoon cat was back and lazily flicking its tail while watching her carefully.
"What do you want now?" she asked aggressively.
"As I told you, I'm going to help you learn to live like a normal person."
"What do you want me to say this time?"
"Its time for action, not words. You can't change yourself by sitting at home. You are going to get out and start living."
"I'll have to get dressed first!"
"Of course," said the cat. "But we need to choose an appropriate outfit"
"Let's look at your wardrobe and decide, shall we?"
The cat jumped off of the bed and walked across to the already open wardrobe.
"Hey that looks good." She purred, staring at one end of the rack.
Cathryn wasn't sure what the cat was looking at, so she pointed to a pair of trousers.
The cat said, "No, stupid. The black skirt at the very end."
She moved her hand across to the garment and took it out of the wardrobe.
"You can't be serious. This is a gym skirt!" She held up the short, pleated skirt.
"It'll go well with those sparkly high heels in the box down there. Put them on."
The cat was talking about some sandals that she had bought two years ago on impulse, but had never had the courage to wear.
"But I can hardly stand up in them!"
"So, a bit of practise will come in handy then, won't it?" the cat continued, "That black halter-neck top. That will complete the outfit. Now go and stand in front of that mirror and take off that towel. Let's see what kind of body you're hiding under there."
Cathryn remembered the painful wailing of the night before and without argument crossed to the full-length mirror. She untucked the towel and simply let it fall to the floor. She stood looking at herself, aware that she had never really done so before.
"Not bad, not bad at all. In fact you have a very good-looking body. And those high heels make your legs look fantastic.
"Now put the skirt on."
Although she had bought the skirt some time ago, she had managed to maintain her figure and the skirt went on easily. It looked strange to see herself standing in front of the mirror. Even she had to admit that her legs looked good. She even began to appraise her breasts, which remained firm.
"Now put the top on," said the cat.
"But I've only got a white halter-neck bra. It won't look right."
"Well, don't bother with the bra then!"
She thought about it for a moment. The idea of not wearing a bra quite excited her, but she wasn't going to give in quite that easily. "I can't go without a bra, it won't look right."
"Put it on and see."
So she put the top on and fastened it at the back of her neck. As she dropped her arms to her sides, she almost gasped in surprise. She looked so different! The cat was right about the top; with her firm 34C breasts it really did look good. The whole effect was stunning.
"See. Told you so. You like the way you look don't you? Now pinch those nipples. Make them hard and see the difference it makes."
Cathryn blushed. Once again she felt giddy. But she obeyed, moved her fingertips onto her breasts and gently squeezing her nipples.
"Harder. Pull on them and make them really stand out."
She was shocked. Both at the tone that the cat was taking with her and with the pleasure that she seemed to be gaining from her actions. When she dropped her arms to her side again she could see the hard lumps protruding through the material. She turned side on to the mirror and couldn't believe how far they had thrust out. She began to blush again at the thought that people might see her like that if she went out.
"Now you're ready to take on the world, girl. Let's go shopping," said the cat.
"Wait a minute. I need to put some panties on."
"That outfit deserves the skimpiest of thongs."
"But I haven't got any," she answered.
"You'll just have to go without then."
Cathryn had been nervous of the idea that somebody might see her panties under the very brief skirt she was wearing. But to wear no panties at all? No. She couldn't possibly do that. She walked over to the chest of drawers, opened it and took out a pair of white pants. The cat opened its mouth and she dropped them in order to cover her ears.
She had no choice. The cat was going to make her go out without any underwear on.
She picked up her handbag and began walking towards the front door. "Aren't you coming?" she asked the cat.
"No. Let's see how you get on by yourself for a while".
She stepped outside her door, shut it and then, holding herself erect and with her head held high, she walked towards the stairway. The high heels made her a bit unstable, but the further she walked the steadier she became. Outside in the street, she prepared herself to grab the hem of her skirt – just in case the wind lifted it. However, it was a bright, sunny and warm morning, without a hint of a breeze.
After a while she relaxed and began to enjoy the walk. The more she relaxed, the happier she felt. She began to notice the appreciative looks on the faces of men (and some women) as she passed by.
She walked into the Tube Station, just as a train had arrived and got on. She considered sitting down, but with such a short skirt and such high heels and such a low seat, her knees would be well above her hips. Anybody sitting opposite would get the thrill of a lifetime.
When Cathryn alighted at the station she wanted, she realised that the short skirt might prove awkward for travelling up the escalator. She pretended to be looking for something in her handbag while all the other passengers walked passed her and finally stepped onto the moving staircase when everybody else had gone ahead.
Just as she neared the top, she turned to look back down the stairs. To her horror, there was an Underground worker no more than twenty steps behind her. He must have turned the corner just after she had got on! She turned forwards again and rushed to get out of the station. Was it her imagination or had he winked at her?
She could feel her face was flushed, but breathed more easily when she checked and found nobody following her.
Out above ground she began to relax again and headed for the Lingerie section of the nearest Department Store.
She hadn't really looked around a Lingerie Department for quite some time and she took her time looking at all the pretty things for sale. Finally, she began to look for at thongs. She started looking at the more practical, sporting types. But as she did so, she heard the cat's voice.
"That's not a thong, it's more like a female Y-Front! Look at the rail on the left."
The rail that the cat was referring to had (admittedly prettier but) flimsy and very brief lace thongs. She picked up a pack of three in white and was about to walk to the counter.
"What are you going to do for the rest of the week?" said the cat.
"What do you mean?" she whispered. "I won't be wearing a thong every day will I?"
"Won't you? You aren't going to wear anything else from now on, so it's either a thong or nothing at all."
She considered this for a moment and then grabbed a matching pack of three in black. Having paid for her goods, she then made her way to the Ladies toilets.
The cubicles – unusually - had doors that reached to the floor, but the high walls had no ceiling. Cathryn shut and locked the door of the first one she came to. She sat down on the toilet and closed her eyes for a while.
When she opened her eyes again she noticed some graffiti on the door. Normally she would ignore such things, as they would be either meaningless signatures or obscenities. But the idea of challenging her normal behaviour was having an effect and she leaned forward and read, 'Sally Johnson wanked herself while thinking about being fucked by John Swandson 12.11.04.'
Just below was another line, "And again 19.11.04".
Cathryn chuckled to herself and wondered if Sally had ever achieved her desire.
Looking up she saw the cat perched on the top of the door. She hadn't considered that she would follow her in here. She began to feel an odd fluttering sensation in her stomach as she wondered what the cat was going to tell her to do now.
"Open your legs."
She did so.
"Wider," she said.
Cathryn looked down. Her skirt had risen high enough that her pubic hair was visible.
"Now unfasten your top."
She undid the hooks and let it fall, revealing her breasts.
The nipples appeared darker than normal and, as she watched, the nipples hardened quickly.
"You know what to do with them Cathryn. Go on. Do it now."
She began to caress her breasts, pinching and squeezing the nipples. The pleasure that she felt from doing this the night before began to return, but seemed to become stronger the longer she continued. She didn't know how long she had been doing it, but would have been happy to carry on if the cat hadn't interrupted her.
"Put your hand between your legs and tell me how wet you are."
"No. Please. No," she said. But she took her right hand away from her breast and moved it down onto her pussy. She gasped at how much fluid there was, and then froze as her fingertip touched her clitoris.
"That's your clit. Start rubbing it. That's it. Faster. Faster. Really rub it hard. Now use your other hand to touch your cunt. That's it. How does that feel, huh? "It's good isn't it?"
Cathryn couldn't answer. She couldn't speak, but merely nodded her head.
"Push that middle finger in."
"But I'm still a virgin!" she suddenly found her voice. "I can't, I'll spoil myself."
"Not with that much lubrication. Go on. Do it you little slut. You know that you want to really."
She very gently pushed and to her surprise the finger began sliding in. It wasn't painful, but she could feel her hymen stretching a little and was careful not to put too much strain on it.
Her fingers were thin and she managed to push it in up to the knuckle. The distant roaring that she had been hearing in her ears grew louder. She felt light headed and a strange, warm sensation began spreading up through her stomach from between her legs. And then she came. It was her first ever orgasm.
She clamped her lips tight together to stop herself screaming aloud, but her breath came out through her nostrils in heavy snorts. She closed her eyes.
She may have fainted, she didn't know. But when she opened her eyes the cat was gone. She looked down at her body glistening with sweat. She felt ashamed. But she also felt sad that this couldn't have happened at home.
She took a handful of toilet tissue and began mopping up the moisture from her breasts and legs. She needed two handfuls to dry between her legs. She marvelled at this. She wondered if it really was all sexual juices, or had she wet herself when she was unconscious?
She fastened her halter-neck and then opened the packet of white thongs. She put a pair on and inspected them. Although she kept her pubic hair trimmed, she hadn't worn a bathing costume for many years and consequently hadn't felt the need to deal with her 'bikini' lines.