The bed jounced as Kitten jumped into it. It was morning, and she was awake and frisky. He opened his eyes and rolled over. Kitten snuggled her head under his arm, and he scratched her hair and under her chin.
"How is my kitten this morning?" he asked.
"Good, Master," she purred. "Did you sleep good?"
"I did."
"I couldn't wait for you to wake up. Last night was so much fun!"
"I had fun, too." He stretched, got up, and went in the bathroom. When he came out, Kitten was kneeling on the bed, leaning forward on her hands and smiling up at him.
"Come on," he said, "let's get some breakfast."
She slipped on one of his button-up shirts—much too big on her—over her panties. They went in the kitchen, fixed breakfast, and ate.
"I have to go in to the office for a little while," he said.
Kitten's face fell in dismay. "Nooo," she whined.
"I told you yesterday that I had to."
"I know," she said, "but I hoped you would do it later."
As he dressed, she kept snuggling up to him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her breasts into his back. She tousled his hair and reached around to unbutton the buttons he had just fastened.
"Later," he smiled, stroking her head but also pushing her away gently.
She picked up his necktie and looped it around her own neck. She sank back on the bed, playing with it and eyeing him challengingly.
"Come here, you," he said. Reaching out and grabbing the tie, he pulled her over to him and gave her a deep kiss before slipping it over her head. She grumped and swatted his hand peevishly.
She walked with him to the door, where she handed him his briefcase.
"Kiss," he said, pointing to his cheek. She did, but sill pouted.
"Now be good, and I'll be back later." Then he was out the door.
She watched him drive off through the kitchen window. She huffed.
She prowled around the house a while, picking at her morning chores, but growing increasingly bored.
She stood by the kitchen table with some papers, then huffed again and tossed them down. She hadn't really meant to, but they scattered on the floor, and that gave her an idea.
He had said be good...but if he wasn't here to watch her, that was his fault, right?
Well, she thought, if she was going to be a naughty kitty, she would be a naughty kitty.
She went to the bedroom and stripped off the shirt and panties. Then she went in the bathroom and drew a bath. She bathed languorously, luxuriating in the hot water. Taking a fresh razor, she shaved—underarms, legs, and especially pussy, that had been needy since she woke up. Powerful lovemaking like last night always left her horny the next day. And it was needy—as she smoothed over the delicate lips and folds she could feel her own wetness mixing with the soapy water. When she got out and dried, she massaged lotion all over, leaving her skin soft and glowing.
She curled her light brown hair so it draped over her shoulders. Then her makeup. She did her eyes with a light mascara and cat's-eye liner, of course. She drew several whiskers across each cheek and added some freckles, then carefully painted a black heart shape on the tip of her nose. Her lipstick she did in a neutral shade with just a touch of sheen. Looking in the mirror, she loved what she saw—it was so cute!
Now her outfit. She pulled on knee-high socks that had paw-print pads on the feet, just like a real kitten. She buckled her black leather collar around her neck; it had a silver bell and a plate with Master's initial on it—he had left her alone for the day, but she was still his. A headband with pointy ears fitted snugly on her head.
Her tail. Every good kitten needs a tail, right? Hers was natural fur, matching her hair color. She applied plenty of warm lube to the medium-sized plug and bent over. She took her time working the plug in, savoring the way it smoothly parted her puckered bud, and moaned when it settled into place with a soft pop. The tail moved sensuously with her, swaying when she wiggled her butt, and the plug was just filling enough to not be uncomfortable. The tail looked so good, emerging from her ass, that she was tempted to not wear underwear, then realized there was no way she could do that—she was already too wet! Her pussy was starting to leak around her puffy lips as it was. So she selected a black thong, just large enough to cover her in the front and with a thin string that ran alongside her tail between her cheeks.
Finally, her paws. The mittens were fingerless and had paw prints like her socks, and secured around her wrist with a strap.
She knelt on the floor, on hands and knees with head held high, and admired herself in the mirror. She was the perfect kitty cat—the perfect Master's pet. Now...
When he got home—it really hadn't been that long—he paused in the foyer. Kitten usually came to greet him, but she was nowhere to be seen. As he passed his office door he stopped. His office was a mess—papers everywhere and one chair turned over. He understood at once.
In the hallway by the stairs, the laundry basket was overturned and clothes were scattered along the floor.
He found Kitten lounging in the sun in the window seat that overlooked the garden, her willowy body lying on the pillows. She looked up at him through half-closed eyes and stretched.
When he saw her persona, he had to stop himself from smiling and to put on his stern voice. "What have you been up to?" he demanded.
"Waiting for you, Master." Her tone was impish, mocking.
"Is that all?"
"I don't know what you mean."
