Redefining Punishment... Again

I have never before to this point in my life believed in love at first sight. To be frank, the concept always struck my friends and me as a bit...inane, really. But...being blessed with a visit to our home by this mesmerizingly striking goddess, her approach bringing us face to gorgeous face..."inane" is the single last word I would choose.

She is a bit taller than I—somewhere in the vicinity of 5'5"—brunette, with glittering green eyes and the sort of "come hither" features to which I am only vaguely accustomed. Her blouse is peasant ruffle, soft pale yellow, and reminiscent of the Renaissance era. On her feet are knee-high stockings and patent buckle low platforms. She seems to gaze directly back into my eyes and even into my very soul with neither a hint of artifice nor pretense.

Any hints of worry in possibly no longer having Mommy's affection and attention all to myself have already long since evaporated. My eyes go dewy right before this fair maiden's. I want to melt into her arms. I want to take her for my own and never ever let go. I want to drown in the majestic pulchritude of this wondrous creature whom I have never before met.

I want to hug Mommy tightly and gush, "Oh, Mommy! For me?! You shouldn't have! How did you know?! Is it my birthday??"

The possibility that Mommy has brought home this vixen for any other cause than me bypasses my cognizance completely.

Eyes adhered fast to the vision of perfection that stands in front of me, four tiny words bounce off my sensate brain—

I, am, in, love.

My normally sensible mind, which thinks it knows better, tries pointlessly to convince my heart otherwise. That I cannot logically be in love with this girl, for I have never met her before now. I know nothing about her. But when rational thinking is stacked to matters of the heart, no candles are held. Emotion wins every time.

Mommy says some words that echo distortedly in my ears. I realize that I have been staring agape at this living wonder of the world for what is probably between thirty and forty-five seconds without moving, speaking or breathing.

I blink a dozen times, stuttering for words.

"Um...I...oh, gosh...th—d—I...uh..."

Mommy and our visitor are (probably) regarding me a bit oddly just about now.

"Delilah, are you quite all right?" I hear Mommy's voice ask.

Am I all right?...Is "drop-dead heels-over-head in love" anywhere comparable to all right?

I turn to her. "Oh, um...yes! Yes, Mommy, I'm..."

I steady myself to keep from swooning and try to hinder my heart fluttering away.

"...I'm good. Just good. I just, eh...didn't hear what you were saying."

"I was saying, Delilah, dear, I would like you to meet Cathryn..."

Cathryn...what a beautiful name. I summon the courage to do something completely natural and appropriate, and reach to shake her hand, and perhaps parlay this handshake into a welcome hug.

"...Your new sister."

Our hands make contact as these final words register.

"...My...sister?"

"That's right. I feel things have been getting on quite well lately, but it also occurred to me that you may be a bit lonely. So I thought perhaps you might like a playmate."

Oh...I do like her, Mommy. I can tell already, I like her very, very much.

"Well...thank you, Mommy. It's...it's very lovely to meet you...Cathryn."

I coat the sound of her name in an exhalation of dazed overfriendliness. She smiles at me.

"The pleasure is mine, Miss Delilah," she coos, in a rich, silky British accent.

Just when I thought she could be no more bewitching.

This time I cannot stop my heart. I refuse to hold back. I take her in an embrace and hug her aggressively snugly.

"Oh, my!" I hear her giggle at my squeeze.

I look appreciatively to Mommy and mouth an extremely grateful, "THANK YOU SO MUCH!!"

It goes without saying I don't want to let go of this lovely English muffin for so much as a second, but only to me, myself and I. Mommy and my new "sister" Cathryn are oblivious to the way I am feeling...most likely. I had likely better release her before they begin wondering what is going on. I reluctantly but cordially do so.

I realize for the first time that Cathryn appears not fazed in the least by the sight of her new sister in her birthday suit and shackles. All I can compute is that Mommy must have explained this to her beforehand.

Speaking of Mommy, Mommy is speaking.

"Indeed," she finishes. "Delilah Olivia Gainey...Cathryn Athena Taylor."

Cathryn...Athena...Taylor...

...C.A.T.?

Aha. I understand.

Canis domesticus, meet felis domesticus. The puppy is joined by the kitten. Mommy's two sibling pets.

"Welcome to our home!" I greet. "We're so happy to have you here!"

"Well, how jolly lovely!" she returns. The irresistible smile does not leave her face. I decide she is exercising effort to present herself affable and polite, unaware how her statuesque finesse already haunts and enchants me so. Describing her as beguiling merely aspires to understatement. She turns to share her smile with Mommy, and I am privileged next to behold the side view of her face, its sleek curves and masterful sculpture. Oh, and that exotic European goddessship so many of our American lasses like myself are not quite as blessed with. I cannot help but wonder what sort of first impression if any I make upon her.

"Well, uh...oh! Mommy, may I see Cathryn around?"

"Of course, Delilah. You two run along."

YES!

Mommy withdraws to begin supper. I take Cathryn's hand and fight away the urge to kiss her breathless.

***

October 11th, 6:04 p.m.

Holding hands with Cathryn makes me feel like I am walking on air. I escort her from room to room, showing her about, taking my time, never wanting this to end. I save the library for last.

"And this..." I introduce, pausing for effect. "...Is my favorite room. Our 'biblio-mecca.'"

"Ooh, how exciting!" says Cathryn. "Shall I close me eyes first?"

Only if you want me to catch you unawares with a passionate kiss.

"Sure," I smile.

She obliges. As soon as her eyelids shut, I lose no time in mouthing the words, "I love you," to her. I'm half-aware how quickly my heart is moving. I cannot help it; I'm a born romantic. But I'm also half-aware there are factors here I am overlooking. I ask my brain to please not remind me that I don't yet even know if she likes girls.

However, if Mommy asked her to come home with her, and she said yes, I like my chances.

I take her by the hands and begin leading her in, pushing the door the rest of the way open with my tush. When I flip the lights to make my grand unveiling, Cathryn opens her eyes, and is visibly impressed, even before she speaks any words. I am so very pleased that she approves. We begin traversing the rows and rows of shelving. I tell Cathryn about all the wonders I've unearthed inside these four vast walls, about how the books are arranged randomly so you never know what you will find to read next, about how even though I have already read so many, new hidden treasures always pop up to my delight, about what a cozy, comfortable atmosphere is offered inside. She looks truly enchanted. My heart is brimming.

"Go ahead, have a look around," I gesture.

She heads off slowly in an aimless direction, studying shelves and spines. I saunter to the other side of her row. Most shelves like this are backless. I create this opportunity for myself to place one foot in the door of flirtation and test Cathryn's tempting waters. I hold off for a couple of minutes, letting her peacefully browse, and make my approach as quietly and discreetly as possible with the disadvantage of the rattling chains connecting my wrists and ankles.

I wander a few steps past where she stands on the other side. The soft echo of my bare feet padding on the floor lingers, then dissipates. I am certain Cathryn is unsuspecting of what little games I am up to. I lean on my side of the shelf, peering through, admiring my sister's radiant excellence. When she parallels and slouches her 5'5" frame to the level of my own, I flash the most unassuming smile I can manage and cast her a playful wave.

"Peekaboo," I coyly purr.

She returns my impish smirk and waves back. "'Tis you I see," she coos, switching up the given wordage with a uniqueness bearing such powerful charm that I must grip the bookcase to keep from fainting. Before she sees, I withdraw to the seclusion of the large-print books and fan myself.

I love her. I do. I am enamored beyond doubt of this all but superhuman queen, and I cannot look back. I marvel at the comparison of my restrained, naked state, to her conversely clothed and liberated magnificence. It is lost not upon me that if she so desired, she could overpower and force her way with me, and the thought inundates my body with unspoken pleasure. Arousal flushes through me, and I pray she does not notice. My nipples have awoken and my pussy has moistened just a bit, and the slightest traces of perspiration generate through my pores.

Oh dear, oh dear...what to do now? Civilized manners prohibit me from leaving her be in the library just to go and relieve myself, and aside from the numerous reasons I cannot simply approach and thrust myself upon her, such reckless behavior would indubitably sit quite ill with Mommy. Priorly unauthorized acts of intimacy are not condoned in her home.

Suddenly, I am struck by an idea. Cathryn has only just met me a short time ago. We do not know one another, and I formulate a scheme how to keep the situation safe. I will pretend to come on strong to her. This is dangerous, but more likely than not, she will become intimidated by my aggression, cool off and back down.

I pad back to my sister princess, who is browsing more shelves. I control my breathing, approach her and smooth the back of my hand over her satiny soft cheek.

"Cathryn...sweetheart?" I raspily murmur.

She turns to smile at me. Seizing the upper hand, she returns the gesture, caressing me.

"Yes, Delilah...dahling?"

This is not the reaction I have anticipated. My heart begins to pound wildly.

New plan. NEW PLAN.

Thinking quickly, I come to the conclusion that I must breathe deeply, regard the fair Cathryn as my real family member, and keep the atmosphere as chaste as can be. I inhale through the nose, trying to conjure the least arousing entity possible to mind.

But this doesn't mean I can't discuss pleasant subjects.

I unhand her and turn to the books.

"...You know, Cathryn...it was my dearly departed grandfather who fostered my love of reading."

"Oh, why, how sweet," she comments. "I had a similar relationship with me Grammy."

"Aw, yes, aren't grandparents great? So what'd your Grammy read to you, for instance?"

Cathryn sighs nostalgically, turning from the bookcase with a flourish.

"Lady Chatterley's Lover."

Oh, dear.

"...R—...really?...I-I...I had no...

"...Really?"

"Oh, yes," she nods. "It taught me such wonderful things."

She mischievously plays with a loose strand of my hair hanging at my cheek. I realize that my new plan too has backfired. I am in trouble, for it seems she has melted into an almost irrevocably romantic mood. I must do something. I can almost feel my pussy dampening. This is bad. Forcing my brain to override it, I change the subject and put on a sad face.

"However, I only had my grandfather for a short time, and my folks passed when I was two."

Cathryn's face fills with sympathetic affection.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry!" she commiserates. "I know how difficult it is to lose those closest to you."

"It really is," I quickly nod. I hate myself for using the demise of my loved ones to manipulate the situation, but it has been done out of desperation. "I miss them terribly to this day."

"Of course!" Cathryn agrees. "Any person with such a wealth of love in her heart—as I can plainly see you do—would, Delilah."

I calculate that Cathryn, like myself, was orphaned as a child. I have volunteered my own information to her, but to ask her the same would be impolite. I shall presume so until I know for certain or not. I think we are safe for the moment. "Yes, so I lived in foster homes until I was old enough to look after myself," I go on. "Then one day...Mommy adopted me."

We converse further, which leads to my selecting favorite books and reading passages to Cathryn from them. She is charmed. She chooses one book and another at random, and reads to me. I am fascinated with the heart and emotion into which she pours the narration. Just as with meeting me for the first time, she scans her eyes over configurations of words and language she never before seen has, and yet ostensibly encounters no hindrance in deciphering their profundity.

I am dazzled.

I tell her the truth.

"I like you, Cathryn. I enjoy you much, and your presence and company as well."

A beatific smile for which I could die graces her smashing face.

"I do believe I'm quite partial to you as well, Miss Delilah."

We lay our books to rest and allow our silly smiles to do the speaking for us. The echo-heavy library silences. We peer into one another's inviting eyes. I have no foolproof method to know if she feels the same as I, or even close. My heart's longings and desires swell and reinforce, until they soon enough begin to overwhelm my consequential thinking. I know this is trouble, but I start to realize I am any longer powerless to block it.

Cathryn...my angel... I try to communicate in my yearning, hopeful countenance, ...Do you feel the same...?

Before I detect any conclusive signals, we hear Mommy's voice.

"Supper!"

Whew.

A merciful reprieve.

***

October 11th, 8:44 p.m.

We dine by dim chandelier and candlelight. Mommy prefers to set ambient moods such as this for special occasions. I have gotten accustomed to eating together only with her, but now with Cathryn at the table with us, I must admit I feel a bit funny perching here as the lone shackled nude. I am still however highly enjoying myself nonetheless.

"Mmmm...your culinary skills are simply splendid, Mum!" Cathryn gushes.

"We're so pleased you like it," I gush back.

"Indeed, young Cathryn," Mommy addresses her. "I shall take extra care to prepare your favorite dishes in the future."

We go on eating, exchanging pleasant conversation along the way. I mentally thank goodness neither Mommy nor Cathryn knows what I am thinking just now. Dozens of questions—with varying degrees of tact—buzz through my head. I can phrase what I would like to ask, but I would much rather know first how they would react. I play best- and worst-case scenarios of these scripted conversations in my mind.

"You're being uncharacteristically quiet this evening, Delilah," Mommy remarks.

"Oh, I-I...I don't want to monopolize the conversation, Mommy; this is Cathryn's special day."

I cannot express to Mommy how thankful I am for my new sister. At the same time, I am terrified that I may allow my hormones to impede my good behavior without Mommy's permission. I try to theoretically negotiate how I may ask permission without stepping into an awkward situation with my "prinsis" herself.

Perhaps she shall turn in to bed earlier than we this evening, and I then may present my request.

I cross my legs under the table and rub my thighs together to give my pussy a bit of relief. It's a lucky thing for me they cannot see me doing so. Even though we are nearly finished, pausing dinner with a merry, "Cathryn, Mommy, may I please be excused so that I can finger myself to orgasm and set my libido back in check?" seems an excellent way to dampen the festivities.

At last, supper is over. I rise with Mommy to collect the dishes.

"Oh, I'll help," Cathryn offers, standing with us.

She's perfect. The CAT-woman is purrrrfect.

And an angel.

She's a purrrrfect, pussy-cat, angel.

***

October 11th, 11:58 p.m.

The dishes have been put away. We have spent the remainder of our evening sitting on the balcony, sipping cocoa, watching the stars. Mommy sits between us, each of us holding on to one of her arms, resting our heads on her shoulders. I may dare say this could be the most wonderful day and night of my life...or the most nerve-wracking.

It must just be a couple minutes to midnight when Mommy announces it is time for bed.

"All right, young ladies," she says, escorting us inside. "Wash up, then into the sheets with you."

Mommy slips Cathryn into a pair of silk pajamas. She then unshackles me and puts me to bed first.

"Now, you behave yourself, and Mommy will be right back, just after she reads Cathryn a nice bedtime story."

She takes her into one of the spare bedrooms, and a couple minutes later I hear a faint murmuring. A brief while later, true to her word, Mommy returns to me.

"Now then, little Delilah...would you like a bedtime story tonight?"

"Oh, thank you, Mommy, but I'm afraid I would fall asleep halfway through," I politely decline.

"Very well." Mommy puts out the light, lays the book away and another moment later I feel her crawl into bed with me. She slips her arms around me, kisses my forehead, whispers, "Sweet dreams, daughter," and our evening is concluded.

But our twilight is not quite.

***

October 12th, 2:41 a.m.

I am stirred to consciousness. Something shakes our bodies.

"Delilah! Mum!" a voice whispers. "Delilah!"

We awaken.

"Cathryn?" I mutter.

Mommy flicks on the bedside lamp.

"What is it, dear?" she asks.

I shut my eyes and squint until they adjust. Cathryn looks to have been crying.

"I had a terrible nightmare," she tells us. "I don't want to sleep alone. May I, please?"

"Oh, of course, of course, Cathryn," Mommy agrees, as we inch ourselves over to give Cathryn some room. "Come on then."

Cathryn settles in beside us and we snuggle her to consolation. I kiss her cheek.

"Sweet dreams, sister," I wish her. "We love you."

***

October 12th, 8:56 a.m.

I blink myself awake to see and feel that the cartilage of my nose is smushed against my sister's. It feels funny and wonderful. I smile as I remember how she crawled into bed last night with me and...

...Mommy?

I feel for her body. She must already be up. I softly blink, tickling Cathryn's eyelids with my lashes.

So impossibly pretty.

I must still be only half-awake.

Because what I am about to do next feels completely pure, natural, sweet and right.

I kiss her. On the mouth. Soft and passionate. The sort of a kiss that can be stolen exactly once in a lifetime.

I am uncertain whether it's due to unconscious desire, conscious desire, or any number of other circumstances, but Cathryn kisses me back. Our arms find their ways around each other. My body warms to her touch. I am kissing her, and she me! I cannot believe it. This is the happiest moment to date of my half-conscious life.

We cannot cease. In a timespan even so brief as fifteen short hours, the passionate yearning between us has become too great. Soft moans emanate as we breathe through our flaring nostrils. Her warm hands on my back feel so exquisite, fingers dancing lightly over the bumps of my vertebrae. Need for ample oxygen finally detaches our lips like suction cups.