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Contributing Authors: sprite 

He couldn’t get it out of his head: that thrum, that trill, that quiver.

Alex’s cell vibrated in his pocket and his cock hardened in simple-minded kneejerk Pavlovian response. He knew the vibration signaled a text, and he knew Evie had sent that text, which could mean only one thing. 

Evie was back in town.


She said she’d be here this week. She had keys to his place. Not that she ever bothered to use them.

It had to be her.

He leaned forward in his office chair to hide his growing erection and to bring the conversation with his co-worker to a close so he could check his phone.

“Let me look at the metrics,” Alex said, “but I’m sure we’ll be fine. Web traffic is up, analytics are solid. We’ll be above baseline by next week.” His phone vibrated again, so close to his now pulsing cock it contributed to his hardness. Damn, he wanted to see the text.

He stood up from behind his desk and swept around the side, gesturing to the entrance, leading his still jabbering co-worker to the door. He felt sure his erection was noticeable, but no longer cared. He had to see what Evie sent.

The already forgotten co-worker walked out of the office. Alex flipped the door shut on him absently as he stumbled back to his desk, fishing for his pocketed phone. His fingertips brushed against his still swelling hardness as he pulled the phone out, leaving him so flustered he missed the text icon twice before he got the app open.

An unknown number screamed in bold from the small glass screen. He forced himself to slow down, catch his breath.

One. Two. Three.

He pressed on the number. A photo appeared. Kitty ears peeking mischievously up from the bottom of the screen.

Below the image read a single word: Purr.

Blood rushed to his cock in a flood; he actually got light-headed. He sat down. He steadied himself and examined the picture.

Evie had obviously gone to some trouble to set up the shot. She had sent a selfie, taken through the conduit of his bedroom mirror. A rectangle of sunlight from her window artfully washed out the background of the shot, allowing the ears to take center stage. She wore the lace pair, the fifth set of ears they’d gone through during the unhinged on again/off again year they’d spent together. The other pairs of ears had been respectively ripped, crushed, lost in a Vegas strip club, and left under a hotel bed.

Under the ears sat a tousle of black hair. She’d dyed her hair black too; she knew how much he loved it when she changed her hair color. It made him feel like he was fucking a stranger. Or a fantasy.

Clearly, she had come to town prepared.

His cock throbbed in anticipation.

He looked a little closer, then spread his fingers to increase the zoom. In the window glass behind her he could make out the reflection of her bewitchingly hot little ass, and a tiny indistinct shape just below it that he couldn’t quite make out but knew with certainty was a furry black tail. It matched her hair.


The idea of her naked in his apartment, right now, in front of his mirror, wearing those ears, and that tail, sent his mind tumbling and his cock surging.

He looked at the clock. Three more hours until work was over.


Last time Alex had seen her, she’d been blonde. She’s also been naked, save for a pair of black kitty ears perched askew on the top of her head.

Wonder what happened to them? Evie mused as she carefully applied a thick layer of eyeliner, accenting her cat green eyes with help from the mirror on the dresser. His dresser. His bathroom. He’d given her a set of keys at some point, in case she ever needed to crash. She might even still have them. Somewhere. Sneaking in through the back window was far more enjoyable.

It seemed she was always losing things. It made him a bit crazy. She smiled at how crazy he sometimes got. Oh, right. A sudden memory; the first time her ears had been the casualties of their passionate hookups. She vaguely recalled leaving them on a mannequin at a cheap lingerie shop in… Vegas, maybe? She’d been pretty wiped out at the time after partying all night and she’d needed a pair of panties. She’d considered it a fair trade.

She felt a stirring between her thighs at the memory. She’d walked through the lobby of the hotel half dressed and covered with cum, daring anyone to say something. The looks she’d gotten had been priceless.

Planting a soft kiss upon the tip of one slender finger she watched, almost hypnotized, as her reflection slipped a hand between her legs and pressed the moist fingertip to her sensitive clit with a sharp intake of breath, her body shivering with primal hunger as she teased herself right up to the very edge.

Patience, she reminded herself, panting with lust, her fingers balling up into fists and falling to her sides. It was always so much better if she waited. Still, she hated waiting.

She purred, wrinkling up her nose at the face in the mirror and thinking of Alex. Alex, who had a way of bringing out her inner feline and transforming her into a lust-filled kitten.

Her gaze wandered towards the unmade bed, lips pressed tightly together in a smile. She’d marked it when she’d first broken in by peeing a little on one of his pillows. He’d always been after her to leave him something to remember her by, after all. Her costume – her second skin, really – lay on the sheets. A brand new pair of black lace ears were the centerpiece, sitting like a sundae cherry atop several other items; a long black tail attached to a plug and a pair of sheer black stockings and matching gloves. On one of the pillows, the one she hadn’t pissed on, she’d left a slender pink leather collar with a paw-shaped metal tag inscribed with her name.

Kitty, that is. Not Evie. Evie would never wear a collar. It was demeaning. Evie didn’t like being owned. Kitty did. At least when it suited her mercurial nature.

Evie continued to wrestle with temptation at the thought of being collared, hands fluttering to her breasts without permission so that she could twist and tease overly sensitive nipples for the space of several quickening heartbeats before taking control again. Or, rather, turning it over to Kitty…

Slipping off the chair gracefully to the floor, she settled on hands, or rather paws, and knees, a pleased sigh escaping as she flexed her fingers into the thick carpet and made her way towards the bed, putting a little extra sway into her hips and ass, imagining what she must look like from behind.

If only you could see me now, Alex. He’d have had his pants down, trying to shove his thick beautiful cock in her from behind. He’d have to wait, though. Just something else to drive him so mad that he’d be unable to think of anything else. It wouldn’t take much.

Resting her chin on the mattress she reached out for her ears, coaxing them closer with a single finger, dragging them to the edge of the bed, teeth closing carefully on one delicate tip. With a sense of pride, she retreated to the mirror and posed, sitting back on her heels, chair forgotten as she carefully donned her ears. They matched her slightly ruffled raven black hair to perfection.

Her eyes grew wide with kitten-like wonder as she admired herself, a self-satisfied rumble building in her chest as she fumbled for her phone. Just a tease. He might suspect that she was naked, but, with only the top half of her face filling the screen on her screen, he wouldn’t know for sure.

“Come play with your kitten,” she mouthed seductively as she snapped a photo as she sent it before dripping the phone carelessly. Time to finish the transformation.

“Goodbye, Evie,” she whispered with a delighted giggle.



Evie was back.

He’d met Evie at a bar—where else?—as rain pattered against the glass of the storefront windows, streetlights painting the rivulets of water as they ran down the plate glass like tears.

She sat wet and bedraggled in the corner of the bar, alone, shivering in a winter coat three sizes too big, mascara smudged and running, hair a wet mess, an incongruous pair of bent and stained kitty ears perched atop it. A weathered O-ring collar constrained her neck.

Alex once had an old girlfriend who was into the whole sex-kitten thing, all pouty licks and cute little paws and perky fur ears and a bell around her neck. A pampered, domesticated, well-groomed fuck-kitten.

This girl looked like a stray. An alley-cat: feral, unbroken, wild.

She looked hot. Hotter than the old girlfriend, even, Alex noted with surprise.

He approached her booth, sat down silently across from her. She barely reacted at all.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

No response.

“Can I get you anything?


“Hot tea? Some food? A towel?“

She looked up at him through veiled eyes.

“How ‘bout a bed?” she replied.

His cock sprung alive. So did all the alarm bells. Was she crazy? Did he care? Would she steal from him? Hurt him? Would he be a headline in the morning paper? He took several moments before answering with a, “Sure,” that he hoped sounded more confident than he actually was.

She replied with a purring trill of her tongue that made all the alarm bells go silent as blood engorged his cock.

They went to his apartment, nearly wordless during the walk down the rainy midnight streets. He gave her a towel and some dry clothes, fed her some leftover pizza.

She asked if she could take a hot bath. He responded with the same drawled, “Sure,” and he gave her some space to get herself together. When he reentered the living room he found her asleep on the threadbare couch.

He put an equally threadbare blanket over her and went to his bed alone.

He awoke in the middle of the night to find her kneeling on the bed at his side, hair washed and combed, eyes clear and sparkling, ears straightened as if alert for sounds of mice and struggling birds.

She had attached a leash to her O-ring collar. She held it loosely in her mouth, silently offering the leather strip to him.

She purred.


This had always been her favorite part. Alex had asked about it once. What does it feel like?

She’d gone silent, her thoughts far away, vaguely remembering a time when she'd fought to hold on to what she thought of as her “normal” self, never quite letting her Kitty self have full reign. Her transformation, so to speak, wasn't something that happened overnight. It had been a gradual evolution of sorts, starting when she was much younger, sometime around her seventeenth birthday.

And it hadn't always tied to sexual exploits. It was one of many secrets she kept from her lovers, Alex included, that she would often shed her humanity like an old pair of jeans in the privacy of where ever she happened to be at the moment and simply let Kitty take over. It was blissful to be free of all worries and concerns; to simply be in the moment enjoying the pleasure of laying naked in the window, the sunshine heating her flesh, her thoughts quiet and at peace. Sometimes she'd prowl through her rooms at night, sometimes even on all fours, eventually curling up on a blanket laid out beneath the dining room table and drift off to sleep, thoughts of the coming day a million miles away.

Eventually, she found it easier and easier to simply let Kitty take over and give Evie a rest. At times she wondered if perhaps it would become the other way around; that it was Kitty who would allow Evie, with her fucked up childhood and her addictions and her dark and sometimes violent moods to visit from time to time. She wondered if she could just put her in a box in the back of her head and forget about her.

She hadn’t shared any of that. She’d just given him an enigmatic smile accompanied by a very cat-like shrug before completely ignoring his question. Later, after he lay spent beside her, one arm wrapped possessively around her waist, she gave it some thought. It felt like a sunrise. That magical time when night transformed into day, the darkness giving way to not only light, but a palette of colors that melted into each other. It felt like being reborn, in some ways, leaving the shadows of misdeeds and ill fortune behind. It felt like shedding every hardship ever experienced. It never lasted. Being Kitty wasn’t something she could hold onto forever, but while it did, it was glorious.

She crawled up onto the bed, touching each item. How many times had she done this? Too many to count. Not just for Alex, either. Not that it was ever really for anyone but herself. She belonged to no one. There was a ritual involved, in a sense. In order to embrace Kitty, she had to let go of Evie.

She let loose a soft purr, that soft trill of the tongue that she knew drove Alex wild, as she lay on her stomach and rubbed her cheek against the soft fur of her tail, one hand drifting languidly along her flank, hips rolling with a slow sensuality as she rubbed her pussy against the covers, lashes fluttering with self-induced pleasure. Letting go all the little things that made up Evie left only desire. Everything became about wants and needs and, most of all, pleasure.

Rolling onto one side, she reached out for her stockings, hooking a nail, claw-like, beneath it and pulling it close and taking a long moment to rub it over her face, luxuriating in the slinky feel of it against her soft cheek. She imagined what it would feel like for Alex if she were to tease him with one encased foot, slowly sliding her toes along his calf, teasing his inner thigh then leaving him, brushing her toes against his erect cock then leaving him wanting.

“Mmmm.” Not quite a purr, but close as she lay on her back, gathering the sheer black stocking and slipping it over one gracefully arched toe, pulling it up over finely shaped calf and slender thigh. Purring in earnest she repeated the process with the other, taking her time as she paused to lick fingertips and teased an already moist pussy as a reward, letting slip a shuddering moan she undulated with pleasure.

Bad Kitty. She giggled softly, shaking herself from the sexual trance she had nearly lost herself in. Patience. Her gloves came next. Black lace adorned with delicate pink ribbons. A hint of femininity, not that she needed the reminder. It simply pleased her because they were pretty. The stockings and gloves were merely decorations. It was her ears and tail that brought Kitty out to play. Her tail was two and a half feet of thick luxurious ebony fur attached to a flesh-colored plug tapered at one end to fit into her ass. She felt her breath catch, her heartbeat quickening behind her ribs as she rolled once more over on her side, the tip of the rubber plug brushing her nose.

Alex had always been fascinated by it. More than once he’d asked if he could watch her put it on. Put it in. She always refused for no other reason than he wanted too so badly.


Evie slipped her tongue from between soft lips and playfully licked the rubber tip wondering if perhaps she would grant his wish tonight–or ever–as she raised one leg and inserted the plug into her now very wet pussy, twisting it slowly until it was slick with her juices, preparing it for her ass. Unable to resist, she began fucking herself breathlessly. It took real effort to pull it from her tightly clenched cunt.

She took out her phone. She pointed it toward her ass—she’d done this so many times she knew the exact angle and distance--and hit record as she pressed the black rubber tip of the tail to the tight ring of her ass.

Breathing slowly out, she tried to relax, pushing slowly, feeling it spreading her asshole uncomfortably until, with a soft plop that was more felt than heard, sealing itself within.

She turned off the video. She scrolled to Alex’s number and hit Send.

Playfully, she rolled around on the bed, awash in luminescent ecstasy, grinding against the mattress before sliding to the floor, hands and knees sinking into lush carpet. There was still make up to apply. And her collar. There would be plenty of time for that before he arrived. For now, she was content to prowl through his place shamelessly.


Sometimes she fucked as Evie, sometimes she fucked as Kitty.

Her transformation never failed to arouse him.

Most of the time the change from Evie to Kitty took place offstage, in the wings of the theater (for he did not doubt this was all performance). In the bathroom, door closed. In the car, sitting next to him as he drove. Sometimes she’d meet him at his apartment already in character as Kitty. Sometimes she’d meet him as Evie and stay Evie all night long.

Evie was a pretty hot fuck too. She had tricks of her own. But she was no Kitty.

The first time he saw her transform, they lay together on a mattress on the floor, done with that first fast fuck, waiting to regain their breath for round two. She passed him a pipe. He inhaled deeply, passed it back. He watched the way she handled the pipe. Examining the texture of the wood, the residual heat of the bowl, as she inhaled, and as she exhaled she regarded the cloud of sweet smoke before her as if she had dreamed it into being.

She touched his arm, gently, her fingertips running the length of his arm.

“That feels so fucking good,” he said. She did not respond. She seemed in a place beyond words.

She pressed her face against his hand, and with her cheek traced a path up his arm and across his chest. For an instant she stopped and looked at him, her features inscrutable, mouth lax, eyes open and seeing everything at once.

She touched him as if the touch was the only thing that mattered, the sensation was so large it crowded out everything else in her mind, awakening some usually dormant part of her mind.

She purred.

She didn’t sound like a cat, or even someone pretending to be a cat. The sound—and it wasn’t a sound so much as a vibration--was neither feline nor human, and came from somewhere within her, a thrumming that spread from her throat to her cheeks, her mouth, her tits and ass and pussy.

She continued her way down his chest. She no longer used just her cheek, but swiveled her head to give him everything, her lips and tongue and cheeks and nose and hair, bathing him in sensation. Like nothing he had ever experienced before.

She made her way to his cock.

She didn’t take him in her mouth. She didn’t need to.

She caressed his length, licking her hands like tiny paws before stroking his shaft and balls. She ran her face across his cockhead, letting him feel the warm otherworldly vibrations. She pressed her neck and throat against him, allowing him closer to the trilling miracle at her center. She wrapped his thickness languidly in loops of her long hair, pulling away to allow her silky textures to slide against his skin. She focused her hot damp breath on him. She teased him with small licks and nips.

She paused to pin her eyes to his with a fervid gaze. She gave the head of his cock one long shivering lick, using the full length and curled width of her tongue.

He came suddenly.

Jets of cum pulsed against her pretty cheek, oozing across her lips and tongue, dripping down her neck, painting her cheeks.

He watched transfixed for minutes as she casually groomed herself, licking her fingers, scooping up his cum with paw-like swipes and smearing it on her tongue and lips, licking the whole hot mess away.

She used no toys or props: no ears, no tail, no whiskers, no gloves. She didn’t need to dress like a cat.

She was Kitty.

Not always did Kitty play the tranquil tease. She scratched, with fingernails and feet. She howled. She screeched. She bit.

She’d embroil herself in vicious fights, she’d lay tranquil for hours in his arms.

She threw off her restraints often. She stole money and booze and drugs.

She left without warning, she returned when least expected. She’d display her bruises, her needle marks, her bloodshot eyes, without pride or shame.

She could not be controlled. She could not be trusted.

No wonder he wanted to keep her on a leash.


Kitty loved being naked. Loved the freedom of it. Sometimes it had gotten her in trouble, though. Evie understood that there was a time and a place for it, but Kitty didn’t always.

Curiously, she moved about the room, nose wrinkling at the cacophony of scents all overlapped by the smell of him. She’d never thought about it too much, why her sense of smell seemed to sharpen when she was in this state. Alex had once suggested it was simply because she was more aware of it. She’d shrugged that off with a frown. It didn’t matter why, it merely was.

She recalled that night vividly. She’d been restless. He’d wanted to stay in and fuck, and she’d let him have his way, at least at first. Eventually, though, she’d begun to feel claustrophobic, feeling confined in his suddenly too small bedroom. The air was stale and the bed smelled of pussy, cum, sweat, and hashish.

“I can’t breathe,” she’d wanted to tell him, only she had no words. Kitty had no words. Frustrated at his puzzled reaction to her anguished mewl, she lashed out with a hiss, her nails raking his cheek and drawing blood. She backed away until she felt the chill of the glass window behind her.

Without thought of the consequences, she escaped, slipping out into the night wearing only her collar and her ears, prowling the shadows, silent and alert for trouble. That night she’d avoided any. She wasn’t always that lucky.

Like the night she simply felt Kitty take over in a club after getting high. Kitty hated the four-inch heels she’d worn and hated the lycra dress even more, so she’d simply shed them and continued to dance, quickly drawing far too much attention to herself, not that she minded.

She’d awoken the next morning in somebody’s back yard, curled up under a bush, nursing a hangover, her flesh tacky with cum, her ass and tits covered with bruises.

The memory of it made her purr louder as she rubbed against the faux leather of the sole chair in the room. She wondered, absently, if she still had something in her purse. A hit of X or maybe a tab, but the thought fled as quickly as it had come, replaced with another. She missed her collar. She felt incomplete without it. Besides, Alex loved seeing her in it and she wanted to please him more than anything. That might change, but right now, she felt an inexplicable urge to be his playful little kitten.

Drawn back to the bed, pulling herself on top of the mattress, she sat, bare ass on stockinged heels, running fingertips over the edges of the pink strip of leather, smiling at the sound of the tag as it bumped against the little silver bell, a sound that would accompany her everywhere once she buckled it around her slender throat. She wasted no time in doing exactly that. Then, fishing out a small mirror and a makeup pencil, she blackened the tip of her nose and drew a trio of three whiskers on each cheek, completing her ritual.

Licking her lips, barely aware of her hand snaking between her slowly spreading thighs, she closed her eyes and let her memories and the very last trace of Evie slip away.



He couldn’t get it out of his head. That thrum, that trill, that quiver.

She sent texts every fifteen minutes or so. He never bothered to respond; she simply ignored his responses, and always had. She displayed a ninja-like ability to tease him with the simplest of texts. She knew instinctively how to keep him hard and on edge, how long to take between texts, when to leave him dangling, when to follow up with more. As the tease played out she relied less on words, more on selfies, the transformation from Evie to Kitty mapped by her increasing wordlessness.

After that seismic first text of “Purr,” paired with the enigmatic shot of the kitty ears poised on her unruly mass of black hair, he waited about a half an hour. Her next text arrived with a silent vibration from his cell that he felt down to his bones; he had been studying her first text when it arrived and jumped at the notification.

No words, no picture this time. A fifteen-second video of Kitty (not Evie) showing an extreme closeup of one of her tits. Her fingers crept into the frame, the sleeves of her gloves visible (which was how he knew it was Kitty and not Evie) as her fingertips approached her already erect nipple. She took her nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolled it, back and forth, several times. She pinched it, pulling it away from the meat of her tit, distending it. He thought he caught a glimpse of where the bite of recently used nipple clamps had left in a tell-tale indentation in her flesh in the split second before she released her nipple, her tit bouncing playfully back into place as the screen went black.

He watched the video at least ten more times, his cock growing ever-harder. He felt pre-cum leaking out of the tip. Two more hours before work ended. Could he leave early?

The next text arrived about twenty minutes later. This was a familiar pattern with her when she teased him; the increments of time between teases grew gradually smaller, as if she were a scientist studying his arousal, feeding him carefully timed stimuli before giving him his reward.

This video was longer. The first several seconds she wasn’t even in the shot at all, though he could see movement through the reflection in the window glass. Then, suddenly, she squatted down in front of the camera, her tantalising ass and pussy aimed directly into the lens as she dropped to her knees. He spied the wet shine of lube around her asshole.

A bulb of flesh-colored rubber rounded the curve of her ass and came into the center of the frame. A length of soft black fabric followed the bulb. He immediately recognized it as her tail.

Kitty’s tail.

She’d never let him see her put it on before. She enjoyed the control.

She toyed with him, teasing her asshole with the tip of the plug, letting it slide a fraction of an inch inside her ass before pulling it back out, playing with the rim, knowing how much he enjoyed playing with her ass, licking her, fingering her, fucking her. The plug slowly spread out the rim of her ass, the taper entering her with impossible ease, teasing it in, easing it out.

Her pussy pouted from the bottom of the screen, wet and inviting. She teased her entrance with the plug, turning the bulb between her pussy lips, wetting the entire surface of the rubber with her juices. She slid it back toward her ass, leaving a wet trail across her skin as she made her way back to her ass.

She accepted the plug with a sigh as it slid all the way inside with liquid ease, her ass clenching around it.

She shook her ass. Her tail bounced flirtatiously. The video ended.

Ten minutes later she sent him an audio file. The phone now lay on his desk, his eyes glued to it as he awaited the next text. He picked it up before the notification vibration had even stopped. He hit Play.

He heard the tinkle of the little bell around her collar, followed by the purring trill of her breath.


He could wait no longer.

He shot off an email to his boss complaining of a sick pet at home (not entirely untrue) and was out the door, car keys in hand, legs unsteady, cock trembling, mind awhirl in with a thick froth of memory and desire.

He ran yellow lights, honked at cars that drove too slow, swore at buses and road construction. He parked in a handicapped spot in front of his building and bounded up the stairs to her door.

He knocked. He knew she wouldn’t answer it. She never did. This too was part of the game.

She’d left it unlocked. He’d open it to find her waiting on the far side.


Alex wasn't the only toy she'd played with over the years, but he was the only one she'd kept coming back to - the only one who never tired of her games. No matter how many times she simply disappeared into the night on a whim, she always knew that she could lure him back when she wanted to. He was her mouse. She’d been teasing him all afternoon, not needing a response to know that he’d not be able to resist her once she put her ears on. Evie, he might have, but not Kitty.

She enjoyed playing with him like this. Hooking him against his own better judgment, making sure that all he could think about was her, each text, each picture, each video perfectly timed. She knew him so well that she could almost predict the exact moment the door would be flung open and he’d be standing on the landing, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light within, heart racing, his cock straining against his pants, panting with lust.

Smiling, her ears perked up as she heard a door slam. Right on time. She posed herself where he couldn’t miss her, stockinged legs folded beneath her bare ass, her tail curling around her. She straightened her back a moment before the knob turned, thrusting her tits out, her nipples taut and aching. Her eyes settled on the little hints she’d left scattered on the floor before her. Clues that Alex would have no trouble deciphering.

A length of lavender ribbon strung with keys, the only means of unlocking her collar as well as the black leather cuffs she’d fastened around wrists and ankles.

A pair of nipple clamps, the very same ones she’d been tormenting herself with earlier. She’d almost left them on. Almost. A padded leather blindfold. Her gaze focused sharply on the leather quirt, wondering if she might regret that choice, deciding on the spot that he’d pay a price if he decided to use in on her. Finally, her leash. A length of linked chain joining a loop of black leather at one end and a clip at the other. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being attached to him by it, a mixture of desire and fear.

Her eyes were drawn once more to the door. She could almost sense his hand on the knob, his fingers trembling slightly, his palm damp as he gripped it. Purring, she brought her gloved hand to her mouth and began licking her fingers, covering them with saliva so she could groom herself, touching them to her hard nipples, coating them so they would shine when the light from outside kissed them, her eyes, dark with mascara closing until they were mere slits, head swiveling to one side as she continued to lick her fingers, this time for his benefit as the doorknob rattled softly and turned.

She feigned ignorance, seemingly content to keep bathing herself, touching her breasts, moist fingers tracings ribs, wetting them again as he stood there, eyes glued, mouth gaping almost comically as he watched her preen, fingertips sliding along her hip bone slowly as he watched, one knee rising, presenting her glistening hairless cunt, her lips puffy and smooth, a single lace covered finger stroking the edge of her labia, a wry smile on her face at the rapt look upon his.

He didn’t move or speak, just stood there, the door wide open, staring open-mouthed at her, the only movement that of his tongue as he slowly wet his lips. Her smile grew and her eyes grew wide, her mood shifting suddenly, her demeanor changing in a flash from sly seductress to an air of innocent playfulness. Eyes suddenly large, she gazed up at Alex and softly purred.


She had a magician’s ability to distract and focus attention, playing sleight-of-hand with the world, showing him everything all at once so that his mind reeled drunkenly at the cocktail of oxytocin and dopamine and endorphins flooding his brain, sweeping away all caution.

She loved to see him out of control.

Before him she had laid out keys to her restraints on a beribboned Hello Kitty keychain, his favorite set of nipple clamps, the wrist and ankle restraints, the shiny chains with the carabiner clips to bind her ankles and wrists quickly and ruthlessly, the blindfold, the leather quirt he’d never used on her (but might tonight).

She’d placed the leash at the center, knowing he’d focus his attentions on it, expecting him to take it, clip it to her collar, raise her to her knees. It was how she loved to be awakened into Kittiness and taken.

Wait. What was that smell?

Was that cat pee?


No matter. More urgent issues pulled at him.

Behind the toys, she posed serenely with her ears on, the lace ones, the ones they’d bought last time, the ones he’d seen in that first text. Her perfectly exaggerated mascara and eyeliner highlighted her almond eyes, as did her lipstick on her pouting lips, the whiskers drawn on her rouged cheek. Her nipples stood erect, hardened and slick with spittle. Sheer black stockings encased the flex of her legs. Her black kitty gloves stretched from elbow to delicate fingertip, one of which played between the lips of her smooth pouting pussy lips, teasing him, as she always did.


He walked up to her assorted toys, slipped the toe of his foot inside the wrist cuffs, and flipped them casually into the air, catching them in his hand. The move looked slick, even practiced, and he felt lucky to have accomplished it so effortlessly.

He walked around her, circling, and stopped when he was behind her. He kneeled, and gently cuffed her delicate wrists together, kissing her neck as he did so, just above the collar. He felt the intoxicating purr-that-wasn’t-a-purr vibration from her throat, a sensation so familiar it haunted his dreams.

He walked back around until he faced her again.

He looked down at the blindfold and felt tempted to use it on her, but did not want to deprive himself of her eyes, the way she looked at him, mercurial, one moment wide and open, the next shielded and calculating.

He met her gaze. They locked eyes for long minutes. His cock throbbed, impatient for release, but he could not bring himself to shorten the moment.

She blinked, not he. She broke eye contact and lowered her eyes.

He responded by kneeling on the ground and picking up the leash.

“Here, Kitty, Kitty,” he said.

A feline smile spread across her face. Evie fell away. She padded to him on her knees, and when she had reached him she offered the lovely white curve of her neck. He clipped the leash to the collar, and slowly rose up. Her gaze stayed centered on his own.

After he stood, he pulled on the leash, taking up the slack. She stayed on her knees but allowed the leash to guide her upward until she faced the trembling bulge in his pants.

“Kitty knows what to do,” he told her.

Kitty did.

She deftly undid his belt with her lips, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants with inhuman dexterity, using only her teeth, maintaining eye contact all the while.

His cock bounced out of his jeans, red and angry, finally freed; he dizzied in relief.

She brushed her cheek against his length. She raised her body higher and let his cockhead slide from her cheek, down past her neck and collarbone to her tits. She rubbed his jerking, pulsing length between the heady curves of her breasts. She tickled his cockhead with her nipples, first one, then the other, leaving her flesh smeared with pre-cum.

His knees almost buckled.

She lowered herself and gave his shaft a long sloppy lick, from the tip to the base. She licked at the sac of his balls, then made the return trip up his length. She retreated slightly, opening her mouth, displaying her tongue. A tantalizing bridge of spittle hung between the head of his cock and the tip of her tongue. He watched it as it stretched, looping lower and lower.

When it broke he cleared his throat.

He said, “Kitty knows what time it is. Time to use her mouth,” he said. “Fill her throat with cock. Choke on it.”

He took his cock in hand and slapped her tongue lightly with it, several times.

“It’s time to make you my fuck-kitty,” he told her.


Evie smiled up at him, eyes flashing as he slapped his thick meaty cock against her tongue, a flurry of emotions and moods passing through her like lightning, eyes glinting in the dim light. She purred softly, knowing exactly what the soft trill did to him, watching as his cock twitched in response at the sound. Tilting her head to one side, her lips curved into a smile, not for him, but for herself, her fingers flexing behind her back, testing the metal clip that held her wrists trapped together, her ass wiggling so that her tail twitched back and forth behind her playfully as she bared her teeth slowly, a sure reminder of her unpredictable moods.

She enjoyed seeing apprehension color the lust in his eyes as she leaned back, eyes narrowing suddenly, and ran her pink tongue tip along the bottom edge of her teeth a mere inch from his sensitive cock head. A soft warning growl slipped from her mouth, more playful than menacing. Still, it was enough to make him wonder as she leaned forward, the leash hanging loose between her bared tits, back arching as she thrust them out, knees spreading on the carpet, allowing her to sink further down until she could feel the tickle of carpet against her dripping wet cunt.

Silently, she extended her tongue and began licking his hard cock, her wet tongue swirling over the purplish head and then along the shaft, leaving it shiny with saliva. She loved how it quivered as she teased him. A sudden thought had her pulling at her wrists, desperate to free them. It would be so much fun to pat at it, make it bounce like a toy. She felt a bubble of laughter at the image attempt to escape, taking him in her mouth in order to silence it, her tongue still teasing as she let gravity pull her forward, falling on him like, feeling his length slide deeper and deeper into her throat, mouth filling with saliva, grunting softly until his pubes tickled her nose.


Her gaze swiveled, lashes framing dark upward turned eyes as Alex stared, transfixed at the sight of her lips wrapped around him in obscene beauty. She swallowed, her throat tightening around him. He could sense she was fighting for air, her breathing labored, almost panting, yet seemingly unwilling to pull back.

She’s losing herself, he thought. Diving into Kittyness.

He could feel her tongue sliding back and forth as she swallowed once more, a pleading look in her eyes as he felt his cock swelling, amazed that he was on the edge of cumming already. Too soon, and yet the need to feed her his creamy cum nearly consumed him. It took all his will power to pull out of her, both of them breathing heavily as he did.

He used the crown of her head to steady himself, eyes closing for the briefest of moments as he regained control of himself.

She purred, half whisper, half whimper, all kitten.

He didn’t bother to respond, his fingers tightening between perked ears, clenching silky hair in his fist as he wiped his slick cock against one cheek, and then the other, before letting it rest, once more, on her tongue, heart pounding beneath his ribs, roughly pushing it into her once more until it disappeared from sight.

He loved seeing his length fully buried inside her mouth. His balls rumbled. He held himself back, just barely; this was going to be one of those fucks, continually riding the edge, keeping himself steeled against the torrent of cum already gathering inside him. She knew exactly what she was doing, able to keep him riding the razor’s edge of orgasm, equally able to push him off that edge with one twist of her throated tongue, one dizzying clench of her tight little asshole.

He grew irrationally resentful at her power. She knelt before his cock - neck collared, wrists restrained - yet remained in control; she could play any and every nerve ending in his body at will.

He shoved his cock deep into her mouth in response. She gagged hard, he thrust harder, his entire length now fully lost inside her hot wet mouth. When he pulled abruptly out of her mouth he left her lips ringed with spittle, her flawlessly made-up eyes running with mascara-stained tears.

They shared a long unhidden look. She looked as if she were underwater. He half-expected her hair to float in the thickened air, moving with the languid currents of the tide.

She submerged herself into submission.

He jerked up sharply on the leash, pulling her up by the neck until she stood before him. He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her roughly. The momentum pushed them both across the room, a half walking, half tripping dance that left her tumbling against the far wall as he pressed into her.

He seized her by her neck, rough hands over the soft leather of the collar. He bit at her lips, invaded her mouth with his tongue, grip growing ever tighter. She trembled under his grasp.

He could smell the hot scent of her pussy in the air.

“Is my Kitty ready to be fucked?” he asked her. His fingers dropped down to her soaking lips, insinuating their way into the swollen slit between them.

She made a noise that was neither animal nor human.

“Does my Kitty need her holes filled?” He slid two fingers inside her hot cunt.

The same wordless note escaped from some space within her.

He curled her fingers to press the bundle of nerves behind her clit. As her legs collapsed beneath her, he spun her around and pushed her face against the wall with his other hand.

He hesitated before unloosening her restraints, knowing he’d be unleashing the hungry untamed cat inside her, but needed her hands on him as he fucked her. He needed all of her.

He said, “Take my cock into your hot cumhole like a good girl.” He reached down to loop her leg into the crook of his arm and lifted her leg to grant access. Her juices ran down her leg in one thick giddy rivulet. What a slutty little fuck-kitty, he thought, unsure and uncaring whether he actually said the words or not. They were moving beyond language.

He guided the head of his cock to her soaked and swollen entrance. She whimpered in response.

Fuck, the sounds she made. She could destroy him with a sigh. One day she just might.

He slid his length deep inside, slowly, savoring the feel of her soft warm velvet cunt against the reckless heat of his shaft.


Evie let herself go. She didn’t always, at least not all the way. Usually, she held onto just enough of herself so that she could slip out of her sub-state if things got out of hand. Not tonight. Tonight she longed to get lost in it, to become nothing more than a fuck toy for Alex. Just three holes and an insatiable need to be used. It felt heady, almost dizzying, the desire burning slowly through her nervous system, taking over. She felt alive, all of her senses focused on one what he was doing to her. He took her without asking. She felt her heart pounding against her ribs, welcoming it, gagging on his cock, the feel of the wall as she was pushed into surprising a sharp gasp out of her while igniting a raging fire deep within.

She didn’t fight back, merely moaned louder, her pussy clenching and dripping with lust as he held her there, biting her lips. She replied in kind, playful and kitten-like, nipping at his face, growling and mewling. She raked her nails down his arms, leaving pink lines in his skin.

She felt herself being spun, pushed into the wall again like a ragdoll. She gushed, pussy juice leaving trails along the inside of her thigh, sucking her breath in as he poised himself, his pulsing cock pressing against her parted slit from behind. She reached between her legs, pressing nails like claws into her clit, beautiful pain exploding and throbbing, leaving her shaking with lust. Pressing her mouth into her forearm, she bit down, not enough to pierce skin, not yet at least. She pumped her hips, rolling them, desperate for him to fill her, aching with need as tears smeared her makeup.

He entered her, forcing a stuttering whimper from her, one that grew in volume as he took her slowly, sinking his impossibly hard cock deep inside her tight cunt. It hurt and oh, how she loved that hurt. Her whimper became the howling cry of a cat in heat, suddenly silence as sharp teeth pierced tender flesh. She felt his balls smack against the globes of her ass as her back arched and her hips jerked back into him. This time, she didn’t hold back and bit hard, the taste of blood spiking coppery ecstasy on her tongue.

Hissing, she managed to find her tit with shaking fingers and sink her claws it, leaving red trails in their wake, twisting her nipple until she couldn’t take it anymore, yowling as she released it, and steadied herself against the wall with the flat of her hand, pushing her ass into his hips, cunt muscles squeezing him, trying desperately to trap him inside her quivering fuckhole.


He knew when he let her wrists out of the restraints she would claw like a fucking panther, at his skin, at her own skin, at their clothes, that’s why he freed her wrists in the first place, but fuck. He always forgot the raw power she held in that petite little frame.

She clawed at her tits, pinching and twisting her nipples between fingernails painted traffic light red (STOP!), as he roughly spread her legs with his knee to get more access to her trembling heat. Her fingers dipped down to scrape at her fiery cunt, pulling and scratching at it as she howled in simultaneous pleasure and pain.

She reached further down and wrapped her fingers around his cock as it plunged in and out of her tight little kitten-hole. He thrust harder at her touch, feeling the warmth of her palm squeezing against his rigid length. Yet even as he responded to her grasp he knew what would happen next, and it did: her claws dug into the meat of his cock, hard, ripping at the shaft.

He didn’t even slow down.

“You feral slut,” he cried. He slapped her arm away from his cock as he slammed into her even harder, pummeling her. She reached back, fingers spread, her nails biting deep into the skin of his leg now. He could feel the hot blood dribbling down his thigh. He reached down with clenched fingers to scoop it up and grabbed her face, smearing her cheeks with red. He pushed his fingers into her mouth; she sucked at them hungrily, greedily, as if taking hot cum or slick juices into her mouth.

She bit his finger.

He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her away from the wall, and threw her onto the floor. She wailed as she collapsed on the carpeting, but landed with perfect poise, positioning her ass straight at him, offering it to him, knowing the effect the sight would have. She swished her tail tauntingly, mewing. He slapped her ass, leaving a handprint of blood and spittle and wet pussy.

She screeched as if in heat.

“It’s time to fuck that tight little ass,” he told her. “I need to fuck all my Kitty’s holes.”

He grabbed her tail in her hand.

Notably, he did not pull.

Kitty’s tail belonged to Kitty. For all the transgressions they routinely visited on each other, her tail was off-limits. She inserted it, she removed it; he accepted this boundary as the price for fucking Kitty.

He’d pay any price to fuck her.

He moved her tail to the side to get at her perfect asshole, running his tongue between the rim and the black rubber bulb of the tail. She tasted so filthy sweet. As he licked her asshole he felt her fingers delve into her pussy, digging deep into her wet heat. He darted down with his tongue, licking at her pussy and clit and fingers, the wet sloppy mix coating his face so that he felt submerged within her.

Her hand covered his own over the soft fur of her tail, surprisingly gently. With his hand under her own, she pulled at the tail. The rim of her ass began to stretch as the bulb pulled out of her. He licked circles around her tight hole, trying to fit his tongue in the bewitched space between the rim and the black rubber.

As she pulled on the tail, his hand still underneath hers, the ring of her ass expanded with the taper of the rubber, like a sexual magic trick, stretching as he licked the white-hot stretch at the edge. She had two fingers buried inside her pussy, pumping her wet tunnel furiously.

Finally, the taper of the bulb reached maximum thickness, stretching her tight hole wide, and she left it there for a long vertiginous moment, feeling the burn of pain, taking the full girth of the rubber.

A moan bubbled up from inside her throat.

As she eased the bulb out of her ass her body started to jerk, rippling through her in waves. He dropped his head and stabbed at her clit with his tongue, massaging her hood with his lips. She came, howling like a tameless thing lost in dark woods. Her animal moan rose to a scream as her body quaked.

He lapped up her juices, sliding his tongue between her stilled fingers. As her tumult subsided, he came up for air, kneeling over her splayed form, ass still in the air and body low to the floor, her breathing ragged, her legs and ass and swollen pussy dripping, moisture glistening in the harsh light of the room.

He slapped his cock down between her ass cheeks, teasing her tight hole.

“Such a good Kitty you are, getting you tight cumhole all stretched and ready for me. You need it, don’t you? Kitty needs her cock, doesn’t she? Kitty needs all her holes used.”

Kitty was well beyond his words, off in some other mental space. She crouched lower, presenting her ass to him, growling, face pressed to the ground.


She felt his cock nestle between the cheeks of her ass, her climax still sending shivers through her entire being, heightened pleasure burning in her core as she pulled her cheeks apart and wiggled invitingly, eager to fill him split her open with his cock. Evie hated being fucked in the ass. That's why she loved it so much. It would send her scrambling for darker places, leaving Kitty in control for hours on end. Nail tip dug into her flesh as she felt his smooth bulbous head pushing against her entrance.

Taking a deep breath, pulse pounding wildly, she let it out slowly, relaxing her muscles as he slowly began to sink into her hole. The plug had done its work, leaving her loose enough to take him. Her nerves were on fire; she could feel his cockhead pushing against her walls, slowly spearing her at first, and then, as if it felt her give in, quickening as he brutally shoved the last length of his thick cock into her, unconcerned with tenderness or her breathless whimpers. For the first time since he'd walked through the doorway, Alex was in control.

"I’m going to fuck you until you scream," he growled, grunting as his balls slapped against her ass, his engorged cock shoved deep within her.

She felt his hands circling her wrists suddenly, trapping them so that he could use her arms to propel her back against him as he began fucking her in earnest, the smack of his flesh against her drowning out her moans of intermixed pain and passion. She simply gave in, letting him use her, one cheeks mashed into the carpet as he drove violently into her, pushing her incrementally forward. Fingers curled as she sank nails into the flesh of her palms, hands clenched into tight fists, eyes blinking, vision blurred by tears.

Her mouth hung open, drool covering her lips and chin as she fought for breath. Her nipples felt like they might burst and she felt her juices dripping copiously from her cunt, teasing the insides of her thighs. Thankfully, he released a wrist, allowing her to reach between her legs and plunge her fingers into her dripping wet cunt hole. She managed to get her entire fist in, stretching her tight hole so wide that she let out a sharp cry of pain. Another one followed as a burst of pain exploded on her ass as Alex began to spank her. There was nothing playful about it. He wasn't holding back like he'd done the first time she'd asked him to spank her. She felt herself following down a hole, eyes rolling back into her head as her entire body blossomed with ecstasy and she came a second time, waves of pleasure burning through her over and over, building from one orgasm into the next…


... and the next and the next. She just kept cumming, no longer experiencing individual orgasms but riding a cresting wave of them, disappearing into bliss. He loved being balls deep inside her ass when she came, feeling her body convulse again and again, the muscles of her tight ass gripping at his shaft with each spasm. He held his length deep inside her, no longer pumping at her hole, just filling it with cock, giving her every quaking, blood-hot inch as she quivered and twisted and jerked beneath him.

She snarled. She clawed. She bit at the sheets. She howled at the moon.

He fumbled for the handle of the leash and pulled up hard, taking control of her collar, as if he had the power to rein in the impulses of this perfect wild creature writhing in ecstasy under him.

“I own this perfect ass,” he told her. “I own this hot fuckhole, I own all your dirty fuckholes.” He ground his cock into her. “Take it up your ass, I want to fill your ass with hot cum. Take it.

His words hit her like a whip. She pushed back against his cock and screamed as she took him even deeper, giving her ass entirely to him, clutching at him as she continued to seize. The cum rose up in his balls and his legs tightened and his stomach clenched as his orgasm gathered.

Fucking take my cum!” he roared. She rocked her ass against him as he jerked and frothed inside her, each spasm of his cock spewing his cum deeper and deeper. He felt the wet heat of it around his length. As he continued to pump his cum drooled out of her hole, smearing against their blazing skin. He felt it drip down the curve of his balls as his balls emptied and his body settled.

He stayed hard inside her full minutes after cumming, still engorged, every nerve ending a-tingle, his mind crowded with sensation.

His cock grew flaccid. He pulled out of her very slowly, wrapped his arms and chest and legs around her limp, used shape. She fell asleep underneath him, purring contentedly. He felt the vibration of it in every muscle and nerve, every inch of cooling, luxuriant skin.

He pulled her closer toward his chest, soothing her, protecting her, reassuring her.

He slept, and dreamed of jungle cats creeping low to the ground, hidden by long grass, hunting prey under moonlit skies in the African veldt.

A cool breeze awoke him hours later. He felt the chill on his skin. Night air spilled from his open window, the curtains ruffling listlessly. Traffic sounded out on in the street. The click-clack of occasional shoes on sidewalk pavement came and went. A siren wailed. 

He didn’t need to turn and check the bed to know she had gone.

Her clothes were gone. Her toys were gone.

The scent of her pussy hung in the air like perfume.


He rose from the floor, closed the window, pulled the shades.

Only when he stumbled to his bed, still half-asleep, cock still tingling, did he see the kitty ears she left centered on the bed. Crushed, bent, ripped, but not beyond repair.

He could relate.

He carefully bent the headband back into alignment, aware of the increasingly fragile stress points in the metal. He straightened the twisted wire of the ears, attempting to restore them to their previous shape. He coaxed the already torn lace back into position on the wire, cautious to keep the fabric from ripping further.

He studied the ears for a while. Repairs went beyond glue, beyond tape. This pair might have one more round in them. Maybe. Two, tops.  

There was simply nothing left to hold them together.

He tossed the kitty ears skittering onto the bedside table and collapsed onto the bed to sleep.

His pillow smelled like cat pee.



This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2019 Verbal P. Incandenza | Yeah, not my real name, but I still wrote this. Be cool. Please don't steal it.

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