3 comments/ 56526 views/ 9 favorites Bad Kitty By: RelentlessPerversion Elizabeth stood fully naked, her full, supple breasts and large areolas silhouetted against the candlelight. Her body was aching for her fingers to return to her wetness, but she chose to deny herself for just a bit. On the bed lay the object of her attention. It was completely black yet it glistened in the flickering light. Slowly, gracefully, she slipped it on, pulling it as tight as she could manage. She loved this one, it fit perfectly. Her other corsets dug into her hips, but this one was longer, allowing her to sit if she needed to with less discomfort. The vinyl fabric formed a deep V at her breasts, pushing them together and upwards. It laced up not only in the front, but also on the sides, showing flashes of pale skin between the black laces, proving to everyone who saw her that there was only the thin vinyl coating separating her skin from their touch. Once it was on securely, she reached down to her pussy once more. It was sopping wet with anticipation, at the thought of others seeing her in this, of being the object of such lustful desire. She wondered, absently, what her co-workers might think of this outfit. Yes, it was Goth night at their favorite club, but she still suspected her fellow party-goers would be in more...mild attire. She knew for sure that none of them would be wearing a collar, especially nothing like hers. It was small and black, save for the large silver lettering in all caps, stating simply "BAD KITTY". Oh, there had been others, some which said "SLAVE", others "SLUT", but none quite fit. No, this was what she would wear. Besides, it was an internship, not an actual job, so the opinions of her co-workers were ultimately irrelevant. She teased herself a bit more in the mirror, the corset constricting her breathing as her intensity increased, resulting in an even greater high. Her fingers played across herself with skill, imagining another woman's touch running across her body. She nearly came, just then, but stopped herself just in time, her legs shaking, eyes watering. She wanted it so bad, and was never one to deny herself. But not now. She needed to feel this way in order to leave everything on, to make herself a Bad Kitty. She finished dressing, completing the outfit with a short black skirt and vinyl overcoat. Her usual complexion, tinted with olive and radiance, was replaced with cover that was three shades too light, adding a touch of paleness to her face. She pursed her lips in satisfaction, her lipstick (dark red) perfectly applied. And finally, the finishing touch, she snapped on her collar. Looking at herself with satisfaction and giving her clit one final squeeze, she left her apartment. The night was hot and humid. Her clothes stuck to her body quickly, almost melting on, becoming part of her. It was only a few blocks to the club, where her friends waited for her outside. As her black heels clicked smartly against the sidewalk, she reflected that she was a long way away from her internships and library readings, from her master's thesis and her late night studying. No, tonight she was going to be a Bad Kitty. Her friend Jenna was the first to see her turn the corner of the block approaching the club. Jenna was built much like Liz, with large beautiful breasts and a curvy shape, was in fact wearing one of Liz's old corsets, having none of her own. Her mouth dropped open, and then closed tightly as Liz approached. For once, Jenna was at a loss for words, until she finally spoke. "God, Liz. You look...hot." She said, in spit of herself. The rest of their friends turned, their own looks equally surprised. Meagan was first to speak, as she looked her friend up and down. "She's right," Meagan giggled her voice as small and petite as the rest of her. Liz could only smile, and hope that the darkness hid her brilliant blush. They walked inside, the darkness of the club enveloping their figures. Liz had been here before, so she knew what to expect. Black was the dominant color, although absently she noticed some crimson red scattered about. Most were dressed as any semi-serious once-a-week Goth student would be in a Midwestern town: Just enough to pass. A few were not dressed up at all (mostly men) wearing simply jeans and dark t-shirts. And then there were the regulars, the people who belonged here. There were leashes and collars-a few couples clearly dressed as master and slave-and plenty of body modifications to go around. And there was the familiar couple in latex body suits and six-inch platform heels. The music was suitably dark and techno, the drinks themed appropriately. But none of that is why she came. Liz came to Goth night so that she could dress like a Bad Kitty, and so that as many people as possible could see her dark side. Absently, she could feel something wet trickling down her thigh: She had not worn underwear. Slowly, she became aware of Jenna beside her, speaking. "...a drink?" She was asking. "Sure," Liz replied, regaining her composure. She walked – no – strutted to the bar, and pushed through a light crowd. The bartender was bald and pierced heavily, his nose sporting several hoops through it. He looked her up and down. "What'll it be?" "Cum in a bathtub...four of them please," Liz smiled, in spit of herself. She was going for a certain look, and it wasn't supposed to involve happiness. The bartender nodded. They stood at the bar, waiting for their drinks, speaking into each other's ears over the music. Several times, Jenna would gesture to one guy or another with her eyes, indicating without words that he was checking Liz out. She would turn, asking: "which one" to which Meagan replied simply "all of them." Whether true or not, the idea in and of itself made her hot. The vinyl was already sticking to her skin, but rather than being uncomfortable, it almost added a second layer to her body, as though she were naked. More quickly than usual, their drinks arrived. "On the house," the bartender shouted, nodding at Liz. Her friends giggled slightly, taking their drinks and clinking them together before downing the shots in a single gulp. "Now," Jenna said, her voice echoing in Liz's ear against the noise, "time to dance." They pushed their way out onto the dance floor, dark electronic music blaring as they began to move with the beat. The heat of her clothes was making Liz sweat, while her pussy continued to ache. She could feel the eyes of those around her looking her over, men and women soaking her in. She could feel their want. She felt a body against hers, and turned to see Jenna smiling, pressing ever so slightly against her ass, her hands finding their way around her waist. She nearly darted away, surprised, but stopped herself. Smiling back, she moved in rhythm with Jenna's hands, their hips touching, and then grinding against one another in a slow, deliberate rhythm. God, her pussy was on fire. And then the song stopped, and Jenna moved away, winking. Tease. She slipped off the dance floor for another drink, and was just about to push her way through the crowd when a hand lightly pressed against her arm in an effort to get her attention. She turned once more, expecting to see Jenna smiling her teasing smile, but instead was greeted by a man, his face dark in the club's lighting. She looked him up and down quickly. He was not dressed as a regular, but rather wore a plain black shirt with black pants and boots. He had no piercings, nor visible tattoos. Immediately, however, her eyes went to his neck. He wore a studded collar, slightly thicker than her own. It looked out of place on the rest of him, and yet it gave him a certain air of respectability, in that he wasn't afraid to take a chance with his style. Perhaps he wasn't a regular Goth, but he was willing to be a bit daring. His hair was dyed black. He was holding something, and she looked down to see it was a drink, extended towards her. "I know your drinks are free anyway," he said into her ear, "but I figured it would be a nice gesture, just the same." She nodded at him, unsure what to say, speaking the only thing that made sense: "Thanks." She hesitated, holding it in her hand. She knew better than to drink anything a random stranger gave to her. He looked at her a moment, then down to the drink, and comprehension dawned on him. She smiled slightly as he looked from her to the drink, and back up, his eyes lingering over her breasts as they jutted out from under her corset. "Well," he said at last, "It's the thought that counts, right?" She shrugged. "Sometimes." "Are you going to drink it?" "I would rather not – I'm sorry." "Sure," he said, and smiled halfheartedly. "Have a dance with me then, at least." This took her by surprise. She had half expected him to turn away with embarrassment, but instead he was asking her to dance. No, he was leading her to the dance floor, having not even waited for a response. The drink had disappeared from her hand, and instead his hands were around her waist, and there they were, moving with the rhythm of the music once more. The strobe lights made it difficult for her to even focus on him, doubly so when he spun her around, rubbing against her from behind. His forwardness surprised her...he had seemed so apologetic, so...nice. And yet here she was, involuntarily (at first) grinding against him, feeling his cock growing against her as he moved in rhythm. She looked to the left, and could see her friends dancing with others now, Jenna in particular being manhandled by several men, laughing as she did so. Jenna would flirt, she knew, and let the boys get nice and hard, but would leave alone at the end of the night. She had intended to do the same. His hands reached upwards and downwards simultaneously, his left running up her stomach to her breast, pausing there, feeling her softness against the vinyl. His right hand went downward, quickly, and in no time she was gasping at his touch, protected only by the thin layer of her skirt. She was moving with the heavy beat of the music, her legs shaking in her knee high boots, feeling his hands begin to move all over her body. He was touching her through her skirt, and she heard herself moaning against him, her body nearly out of control. And then he reached under her skirt. She shook at his touch. His hands knew exactly where to go, they found her wetness, and then pulled apart her pussy lips right there on the dance floor. She looked across from her, and Jenna staring at her, wide-eyed. She could barely believe it herself, and yet was unable to resist, to move away, or do anything other than crumple against him in ecstasy. Elizabeth screamed in rhythm with the music. No one could hear, but he could feel her, and he knew exactly what he was doing. He could feel her quivering against him, and he could feel her pressing harder, demanding more, begging for it with her body. And he obliged her. She came against him, the room spinning as her legs shook. It was a long, drawn out orgasm, her muscles clenching from head to toe, sweat dripping from her forehead. She fell backward against him, and he held her up, then led her off of the dance floor, both of them leaning against the wall of a dark corner, breathing heavily. Dimly, Elizabeth became aware of his lips on her neck, tasting her as she continued to recover. She took a deep breath. What was she doing? Who was this man, with his hands enveloping her, pressing her against the wall? Slowly, regaining her senses, she pushed him away from her. Holding her mouth against his ear, she asked him to stop. He pulled back from her, so that their eyes were locked. There was something there that she hadn't seen before. She recognized it immediately as raw, uninhibited lust. He wanted her, and it was all she could do not to let him right there in that corner. Instead, he took her hand, pulling her along with him down a flight of stairs, then another. The deeper they went into the club, the darker the attire became, the more serious the patrons. There were men in dark leather pants and no shirts, their nipple rings gleaming in the inconsistent light. Her head swam as he led her downward, finally turning right down a narrow hallway and into a room with several couches. Black lights were everywhere, providing the only real lighting. There was a different ambiance to this small place. The music was quieter, more relaxed, though it still had an all too familiar darkness. They sat down on a couch in the farthest corner of the room. It was a loveseat, really, large enough only for two. Several people nearby glanced at her, including a blond-haired woman in a white corset. She had a shapely, hourglass figure, and her lips were colored blood-red. She was talking to a man with spiked hair and a dark trench coat, whispering in his ear. "What's your name," asked the man with the studded collar, who had so recently made her legs convulse in orgasm. "Elizabeth," she spoke into his ear, though she didn't have to scream quite as loud in this room. "I'm Eric," he said, smiling at her as his legs pressed against hers, rubbing his hands all over the vinyl of her corset. She smiled, but placed her hands over his. She could feel his breath on her, and despite her recent orgasm, she could feel a need deep inside her still gnawing from within. She knew that she needed to be fucked. But she resisted. Not here, she couldn't. Not in front of all these people, even in the relative darkness. The breath on her neck pulled away, and she looked over at the man next to her who had so recently given her so much pleasure. He was regarding her with a mixture of adoration and desire, his hands still slowly moving over her body, leaving a tingling sensation wherever he touched. He smiled, and gestured to the right with his eyes. There, in the middle of the room, stood a tall, pale woman. Her breasts were covered only in electrical tape, forming an X over each nipple. She wore only a thong over her lower section. Her legs were long and muscular, likely a dancer or gymnast. And then she began to move in rhythm with the music, her hips swaying seductively back and forth, her hands touching herself all over, running her hands through her hair. There were small beads of sweat running down her body, and Elizabeth could feel the mood of the room change. All eyes were on the pale, nearly naked woman as she danced and moved with the music. Elizabeth looked downwards, and pulled her hand quickly from her crotch. Without even realizing it, her hand had moved instinctually downwards, captivated by the pale woman's movements. She looked up. The woman was looking right at her, and moving closer, strutting her hips back and forth as she approached, smiling. She stopped and leaned in towards Elizabeth, their faces brushing against one another as the pale woman spoke into her ear. "I haven't seen you here before, dear." She said, her voice thick and heavy. "I've been here a few times," Elizabeth replied. "You look gorgeous." "Thanks," was the nervous reply. "Dance with me." This caught Elizabeth off guard. She came to Goth night to fill a persona, to be someone else, but this was quickly changing, almost spinning out of control. She didn't dislike it, only could not comprehend. Her face showed it, and the pale woman smiled. "What is your name?" "Elizabeth." "I'm Nora. Dance with me." And Elizabeth stood, looking back at Eric as he smiled, letting his hands linger over her as she moved away. At first, it felt like a trance, the room moving, rather than her. But increasingly, something happened. As she felt all eyes in the room fall upon her, upon her black corset, her beautiful brunette hair, her hourglass shape, Elizabeth felt control. She could sit back down if she wished, and everyone in the room would be disappointed. She could spin around, let everyone see what a BAD KITTY she was, dressed up for all to see, and they would all want her. She found herself smiling as she walked, her hand in Nora's as they crossed to the center of the room. She assumed Nora would take control, tell her how to dance, but Elizabeth had other plans. She reached around Nora's bare flesh, pressing against her from behind, much the same way Eric had done only a short time ago. The vinyl, warm from her body, pushed against Nora's back as Elizabeth's hands worked their way up and down her hips and waist. Bolder now, she pressed her full body against Nora from behind, her crotch rubbing against nearly naked ass, as they began to sway together to the music. Elizabeth didn't have to look up to know that every eye in the room was on them, and she didn't have to imagine the lust beginning to flow freely, the sexual tension building in every person as she ground herself against the naked woman before her. Yes, Nora was now naked. Her small thong had disappeared, and one by one she was ripping the tape from her breasts, screaming loudly as each fell from her body. In any other situation, this would have been a little disconcerting, but it only added to the moment and served to intensify the rawness of the feeling as Elizabeth rubbed her hands up and down Nora's body, taking her soft breasts in her hands, feeling the hardness of the nipples at the center. She began to lick Nora's neck from behind, as a hushed awe enveloped the room. They were still moving, Nora fully naked, Elizabeth in her black vinyl corset, her hands wandering all over the naked woman's flesh, exploring every inch of her skin. Nora turned around, and without any hesitation, their lips met. The feeling was indescribable, sending chills through Elizabeth's body as she tasted the other woman over and over again, their tongues slowly intertwining, everything in rhythm with the slow, heavy music playing around them. Elizabeth reached downward, just as had been done to her so recently. She could feel the other woman's wetness as she explored, her hands soaked in juices as Nora let out a high pitched moan against her. Deeper she went, pushing her fingers inside, forcing Nora to squat slightly to allow her in. The other woman was breathing heavily against her mouth as the stood in front of the crowd of onlookers, tasting one another as her fingers began to fuck the pale woman's sopping cunt. Elizabeth felt something behind her, pressing against her back, but she was too enveloped in the feeling of Nora's mouth against hers to care. Distantly, she was aware of her corset being loosened, of her skirt being unzipped, even as she removed her fingers from Nora's aching cunt and pressed them against the pale woman's lips, letting her taste herself on Elizabeth's fingers. Nora licked them clean, seductively, her yes momentarily looking past Elizabeth, behind her. Elizabeth turned just as she felt a familiar set of male hands at last pulling her free of her clothing, allowing it to drop to the floor. Eric was behind her, his need for her obvious as he pressed his hardness against her from behind, leaving pre-cum dripping from her ass. She was sandwiched between the two of them, all three naked, as they moved still in time with every beat, their bodies glistening with sweat and electricity at every touch. Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes, as she felt mouths on the back of her neck and her breast simultaneously, four hands reaching up and down her naked flesh. One finger (she wasn't sure whose) found its way to her wetness, and she nearly exploded. Her clit was pulsing as it began teasing her, slowly at first, circling over the engorged bud. Vaguely, she was aware of her own moaning. It was a loud, hungry sound and she barely recognized it as coming from her lips. And then, it was time. It was time for her to take control. No longer considering how it would look to others, or what she shouldn't be doing, Elizabeth grabbed Nora by the hair, pulling her head backward in one full motion. She could see Nora cry out in surprise and ecstasy as she did so, and knew the pale woman was ready for more. Bad Kitty Characters Descriptions: Sarah (me)- 18 years old. 5'2. 108 lbs. 30F breasts. Brown, chest-length hair with white-blond streaks. Blue-grey eyes. Francine: 20 years old- 4'11. 97 lbs. 32C breasts. Black, chin-length hair with side-bangs. Bright blue eyes. * One night, I went over to my friend Francine's house for a sleepover. Now, Francine and I had been really good friends for about two years at this point, but this was the first time that I had slept over. I was excited, because usually when I hung out with Francine, we didn't get to talk much, seeing as her two younger sisters were always following us around. This time, however, her sisters were also having a sleepover, so they weren't home. I got to Francine's house at about 6:30 and the night started off as it usually did. Her father made dinner, and her mother stayed in her room, talking on her cell phone. Once dinner was ready, we all ate together. Her mother asked me if I would like any sweet wine. Under normal circumstances, I would have said no, but it was the evening of the Sabbath, their holy day out of the week. So, I decided to be polite and took some wine. I drank it with dinner, which was an amazing homemade traditional Jewish dish. After dinner, Francine and I cleared the table, and went back to her room. When we got to her room, she opened her closet, and motioned for me to come and stand by her. I did, and I noticed that she had a stash of alcoholic drinks in her closet. There was marshmallow flavored Smirnoff, Mike's Hard Lemonade, and Mike's Classic Margarita. Francine asked me if I wanted any, and again I said yes (against my better judgement). While we drank (and got drunk), we talked about a lot of things that we usually didn't get the chance to talk about. I told her how I had always thought that she was beautiful, and how I wished that she was bisexual too, so then maybe I'd have a chance with her. She just laughed and told me that she's not into girls, and never has been. At that point, in my drunken state, I decided that maybe, since Francine wasn't currently into girls, that I could help her to change her mind. I decided that I would try and seduce her. I told her that my bra felt weird, and that the underwire kind of hurt, so I was going to take it off. "You don't mind, do you?" I asked. "No, go ahead," Francine said while taking another drink of her Mike's Classic Margarita. So, I stood up from where I was sitting next to her on her bed. I began to take my shirt off, and after that, my bra. After my bra was off, I turned so that she could see just enough of my left breast to get an idea of what it looked like. I began to put my shirt back on, when she says my name. "Yes?" I ask. "Leave it off," Francine instructs. "Leave what off? My shirt?" I inquire, smiling on the inside. She liked what she saw. "Yes, Sarah, your shirt," Francine replies, sounding annoyed. Francine then proceeds to stand up from where she is sitting on her bed, and walk over towards me. She walks around me so that she is facing me. Then, without warning, she grabs my left breast firmly in her hand. I stifle a gasp. "Huh," she says, "They're really perky. I always thought that since they were so big that they'd sag a bit. But they don't!" She laughs. "Oh, umm, yeah...I guess," I stutter. Her hand is warm on my breast, and it starting to make me aroused. Francine releases my breast, and walks over to her closet. "Earlier you told me you like pet play," Francine states matter-of-factly. She grabs something from a shelf in her closet, and turns towards me, holding whatever it is she's holding behind her back. "Come here," Francine says. I walk (well, more like stagger) over to Francine, and stand in front of her. She tells me to close my eyes, and I do. After a moment, I feel her putting a headband on me. She tells me to keep my eyes closed. I hear her walking around so that she's standing behind me. Then, she reaches in front of my neck, and puts something soft around it. After a moment, I hear a click. "Open your eyes," she says. I do as instructed, and I see that Francine is holding a mirror up in front of me. She has put a cat-ear headband on my head, and a collar with a bell on it around my neck. I look at her in the mirror, because she is still standing behind me. Apparently, while I had my eyes closed, she had taken off her shirt and skirt. Now, all she was wearing was a black bra and thong, and black heels. "Does kitty like what she sees?" Francine asks seductively. I nod. "Good. Now, take off your jeans and panties." I do as instructed, shaking slightly from my level of arousal plus the excitement. After I have stripped completely, Francine walks around me, so that she is standing in front of me. Oh God, I think, She's gorgeous... Francine then tells me to get on my hands and knees- I won't be allowed to walk upright for the rest of the night. "Alright," I say, as I am lowering myself to the ground. Francine looks at me, and then informs me that I will also not be allowed to speak, except to make cat noises. I nod. "Good kitty," Francine coos, petting my hair. At that point, I realized that I really had to use the restroom, so I began to crawl towards it. What resulted was a hard slap on my ass. "Bad kitty!" Francine yelled, "You're not a human, are you?" I shake my head "no." "I didn't think so. And only humans use the toilet to go potty, right?" I nod. Then, Francine gave me the option of either using one of her cats' litter-boxes, or using the restroom outside, "like a stray." No way was I using a litter-box, so I opted to use the restroom outside. Francine then attaches a leash to my collar, so that "kitty won't get lost outside." Then, she opens the window to her side-yard, and tells me to go outside and "go potty." I crawl out of the window, and once I get outside, I realize that I am in direct view of her 22-year-old male neighbor's house across the street. I look back inside at Francine, who is still holding the end of my leash. "Go potty, kitty," she coos. With an exasperated sigh, I do. While I am using the restroom in her yard, the front door of her neighbor's house opens, and he walks outside. He waves to me, mocking my situation. Once I am done relieving myself, I come back inside through the open window, thoroughly humiliated. Francine proceeds to guide my by my leash over to her bed, where she sits. She tells me that "kitties aren't allowed on furniture," and that I have to sit on the floor at her feet, facing her. Francine then begins to play with my breasts, pinching and pulling at my nipples. All the while, I am getting more and more aroused. After what seems like an eternity of having my breasts fondled, Francine asks me if I want to make my owner happy. I nod. What Francine does next startles me. She grabs my hair, and pulls my face towards her cunt. "Eat me," she instructs. I try to pull away, but she holds on firmly to my hair. It hurts, and I have no choice. I begin to lick her pussy, which is dripping wet. After a few minutes, I insert two fingers into her, and she moans loudly. I increase the tempo of my fingers, and within a few minutes, she's screaming that she's cumming. She writhes in ecstasy for a few moments before relaxing. At this point, I am also dripping wet. I look up at her, trying to convey through my eyes how hot for her I am. But, to my dismay, she says no. "You were a bad kitty earlier. And do bad kitties get to have fun? No. So, I think its time that we go to bed. Sleep well, kitty. Oh, and no touching yourself." Francine then gets up off of the bed, and turns off the lights. She tells me that I may have a blanket, but that I am to sleep at her feet. I wait a while, until I am certain that she is asleep. Then, I begin to touch my warm, wet, softness. I stifle my moans, so as not to wake Francine up. When I finally cum, it is the most intense orgasm I've ever had. After its over, I feel a hand grabbing my wrist. "BAD KITTY," Francine says angrily, "I said not to touch yourself, and you disobeyed me." Then, she yanks on my arm, pulling me towards me. I fall on my stomach, draped over her legs. Before I even have time to catch my breath, I feel a stinging sensation on my ass. I yelp. "BAD KITTY," Francine says again. At this point I am on the verge of tears, and Francine knows it. For the next three minutes (although it feels like an eternity) she spanks me hard. It hurts so much that by the time she is done, I am sobbing. "Now, kitty, go to sleep," Francine says softly. I lie down and close my eyes. After only a few minutes, I fall into the most peaceful sleep I've ever had. Bad Kitty Kyo walked along the tall wrought iron fence, dreading what he was about to do. He came to the gate of Frost Manor and hesitated. But this was his last chance, he reminded himself. If this didn't pan out, he'd either starve to death or freeze to death in the blizzard tomorrow night. As an admittedly wimpy-looking bobcat-boy, he was constantly being picked on. Humans thought he was—at best—a pervy cosplayer or—at worse—an abomination, easy to exterminate. Other anthros thought he was just pathetic. He was short, had no muscles to speak of, and didn't even have the reputation of his feline side to fall back on; bobcats were hardly as majestic as lions or as feared as tigers or as mysterious as leopards. Worst of all, at the mature age of 19, he was about as big as he was ever going to get, and had no hope of ever cutting an intimidating profile. So he usually hid his weaker cat features with baggy clothes and hooded sweaters. No, this was it. He had to do it. He took a deep breath, ready to push the intercom button. "What's the matter, darling?" said a wickedly smooth voice behind him. Kyo froze. He knew the owner of that voice—only by reputation. That was the vampiress Scarlet Frost. "N-nothing!" he squeaked. "I j-just wanted to return something." "What?" she asked, her voice dripping with censure. "This!" Kyo held up the red-jewel pendant on a silver chain. "You mean the thing you stole!" Scarlet hissed, her ruby eyes glowing with rage. "Be honest—you couldn't sell it. Every jeweler, every pawn broker, every crook knows that necklace belongs to me, and wouldn't touch it. So you thought maybe you could get a reward if you returned it." That had been exactly what happened, but she made it sound so...insidious. He had just been in the right place at the right time to pocket the beautiful piece, hopeful that it would provide enough money to get him through the bitterest months of the year. The plan had backfired. He hadn't meant to get anyone in trouble. Who would have known that a vampires as wealthy and old as Scarlet would take the theft of such a small item so personally? "N-no...it's not like that...I-I just...I only..." Kyo stammered, tears pricking in his eyes. His stomach added a mournful gurgle to his feeble protests. "Oh!" Scarlet said, all the malice gone from her face. Her eyes softened and she pulled away. "You're hungry." Then, in the most unexpected, friendly way, she wrapped an arm around his thin shoulders and guided him through the gates of Frost Manor. "Come, precious. Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do for the return of my necklace," she invited warmly. "A good meal, warm shower, and soft bed will set everything to rights. You'll see." She led him like an honored guest through her mansion to the dining hall. Scarlet's personal chef served Kyo the finest sushi and thick sweet cream. She watched him while he ravenously ate. When he got to the cream, she asked him to lap it slowly. "No sense in spilling a drop, precious," she reasoned. Kyo obliged as much as he could, but he still managed to get the cream all over his face. Scarlet smiled, her eyes smoldering almost violet with appreciation as Kyo used his long, sandpapery tongue to clean his whiskers. Then she led him to the bathroom, which was larger than his entire old apartment. The shower wasn't nearly as enjoyable as dinner, but it was warm. Scarlet waited for him just outside the shower stall, passing him spicy-smelling soaps and shampoos and conditioners. His fur had never been cleaner or sleeker. She even helped towel him dry, her strong hands rubbing his whole body briskly until his short fur was as fluffy and soft as it had been when he was a kitten. Then Scarlet had tucked him into bed—still in the nude, but he was too tired to care. The smooth Egyptian cotton sheets and heavy down comforter seduced him into sleep before he could summon even a modicum of modesty. Was this really the Lady Vampiress Scarlet Frost that the whole town feared and admired? She was so...tender. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Oh Kyo-kyo," sang Scarlet's voice, calling Kyo out from his deep, contented sleep. "Wake up sleepy-head. I have something for you." Kyo rolled over and blinked up at Scarlet. Then his eyes widened and he bolted upright. She stood at the foot of his bed in a black bodice, lace panties, and fishnet stockings. Her dead-white skin glistened in the low lamp light and her ruby eyes sparked with fire. She had a huge paddle over one shoulder with the word "Discipline" carved into the flat surface. "You've been a bad kitty," she scolded with sassy severity. "You stole my necklace and you tried to lie to me about it. I can't let you get away with such bad behavior, can I?" "No, ma'am," Kyo squeaked. She was so beautiful he could hardly catch his breath. And if she was proposing what he thought she was proposing... "So I am going to teach you a lesson you won't soon forget," she threatened with a glint in her eye. "Yes, ma'am!" Kyo mewed. "Now, come here, kitty-kitty-kitty." Kyo rushed over to her, heedless of his lack of clothes. Scarlet pulled a collar from behind her back and deftly buckled it around his neck. The bell affixed to it jingled as she hooked one figure in the now secure collar and she dragged him over to a high leather-padded bench. She almost threw him onto it, and he obligingly bent over, holding his tail up and out of the way of his perky ass in offering for whatever justice she was about to deliver. Whack! The paddle came down across both cheeks. Kyo cried out in shock and pain. It was heavy and she was strong. It was like getting kicked by a mule! "That was for stealing the necklace in the first place," she declared. Just as the sting ebbed into a dull throb—WHACK! "That was for trying to sell it to Antonio Luca." WHACK "That was for trying to pawn it to Stinky Stu." WHACK "That was for trying trade it at the reservation." WHACK "That was for almost dropping it off a bridge." Kyo's eyes were streaming with tears. His backside burned, but he knew he deserved it. Everyone had warned him that the Lady Scarlet would have her revenge on him. What scared him the most was that she knew all the details, as if she had been following him since he had pocketed the piece. WHACK "And that was for lying to me," she said and set down the paddle. Before Kyo could do anything, Scarlet put her cool hands on his burning backside, gently using her undead flesh as a cold pack to sooth the ache. Kyo squirmed—he loved it when his ass was toyed with. Scarlet's hand slid down to play with his balls, massaging them gently and bringing intense pleasure into his painful world. The other stroked his hips in circling motions, encouraging him to almost hump the bench, except his engorged member wasn't getting a scrap of friction. "And this is for bringing it back to me," she crooned as she toyed with him. "I have a proposition for you, my precious Kyo-kyo. After we are done here, your penance will be paid, and you'll be free to go your way. But I've become very fond of you, and I would like you to stay. Won't you stay with me, precious?" Her knuckles firmly stroked the place where his scrotum met the taint, and Kyo moaned loudly. Carnal lust blurred his vision and he bobbed his head up and down. She fed him, she bathed him, she cared for him unlike anyone else in his entire life. And while he had always known he was a BDSM sub, she was the first one to be gentle with him—she gave pain and pleasure. As long as she wanted him, he was willing to endure anything to be by her side. He was captivated by her. Scarlet noticed his consent and gently eased off pleasuring him. Kyo whimpered as her hands left him and looked over his shoulder to see what she would do next. "Your penance is done, my precious Kyo-kyo. I forgive you for stealing my necklace," she decreed regally. "But—but..." he whined, unwilling to pester her for satisfaction but desperately needing it at the same time. Scarlet saw his dilemma instantly and grinned wolfishly. "Aww, do you want something else, little Kyo-kyo?" "Mm-hmm," he nodded, his green cat's-eyes pleading with her. "Then you need to be good," she told him, backing away. "That's only for good kitties." "I can be good!" Kyo protested. He fell to his knees and crawled after her as she glided out of the room. "Good or bad...you're mine now, Kyo-kyo." she laughed softly, her voice echoing into the dark.