She had spent a lot of time preparing. Her make-up was subtle aside from the heavy kohl outlining her huge eyes and the deep carmine lipstick. She had her short hair softly, wildly spiked with a black mantilla supporting a silver and deep green scarf that contrasted and set off her rich skin, lips, and eyes.
Her dress was velvet, a shade or two darker than her lipstick, and had been specially cut in a cross between ancient Cretan and European medieval styles with some modifications for her figure and her Lord's desires. Her full breasts were exposed and supported by the bodice for easy access, her hard nipples poking out over the edge.
And her ass, mmm, her ass (she resisted the temptation to stroke its full, round softness) was covered, but the dress was styled so that there was a slit running up to just above her crack, her long soft tail could then be free. The slit was matched by a plunge that exposed her spine. The two would have met but for the special belt, made of black heavy leather with D rings, small silver and brass bells, and studded with rubies and garnets. The front was likewise slit up the front and there was an oval window cut to show off her bellybutton.
She sat, as commanded, on her special throne. It was a heavy wooden chair, sumptuously padded in burgundy and black leather, with a seat that was cut away so her ass and cunt were available when she was allowed to sit in it. Although she was seated leaning back, her hands were behind her, not on the arms, resting on her ass. She had inserted her Lord's favorite toy, a double dildo with separate controls for each cock-branch.
The one in her cunt was on low, gently stimulating her and keeping her at a nice level of continuous arousal. The second branch's six inches protruded from the front of her dress and she could not keep from looking at it from time to time, admiring how much it looked like her Lord's sweet cock. She felt that if she had been allowed and could bend that far, she would be sucking it hungrily in anticipation.
As she waited for Him, the soft smells of patchouli, vanilla, bay, cinnamon, rose, heather, linseed oil, and a touch of turpentine teased her nose and softly rhythmic, sensuous music accentuated her need to be taken. She strained in her chair, waiting, wanting, needing her Lord's touch, his tongue, his cock, his smile, his eyes meeting hers. But she held still, knowing He was watching her, until it became too much. Much too much. She tried to move slowly, to move the dildos in her to bring herself off, to relieve some of the need. Her torso gyrated slowly, but soon the sensation began to overtake her and she was moving more and more the closer she came to cumming.
Her breathing became more ragged, and low moans escaped her lips. Just as she realized how obvious she was becoming, the door opened, framing her Lord. She squealed in fright at having been caught, jumping slightly in her chair; it was enough and she came, her juices gushing around the dildo. She lowered her eyes, blushing and ashamed at being caught.
"Oh, my pet, oh, no. What shall I do now? You have disobeyed and in so doing, ruined my plans for this evening. What shall I do?"
He stood before her, arms crossed over his chest. She could see his cock in his loose pants, but was dismayed to see it softening. He was really angry, and she stifled a sob as it hit home what she had done. She had disobeyed, she had denied him what was rightfully his, her orgasm. She would not be allowed cum, but worse, she would not be allowed to pleasure him, to have his cum in her, to feel him as he orgasmed, to feel his lusting love for her.
"Answer me!" He jerked her head up, his hand under her chin, stretching her neck up almost painfully. "Well, I am waiting!" His eyes flashed his anger and she could see he was truly, deeply upset with her.
Tears welled in her eyes as she sought to speak. She could only stammer out half words and sobs of fear and penitence.
"oh, Babycat, I am so disappointed in you. Why? Why did you do this, deny your Lord your orgasm? Answer me!"
She broke down completely, collapsing forward off the throne and falling at his feet. She kissed them, begging forgiveness, crying piteously to do whatever he wanted to compensate him.
"ON YOUR KNEES!" Oh, she hated when he yelled like that and quickly got on her knees with her hands behind her again. She kept her eyes down, not even looking directly at his feet, just straight down to the floor. She kept choking back sobs while the tears flowed of their own accord.
"Stay there while I think, and hush yourself." He began to pace, to walk around her. Then things got worse. He removed her mantilla, and undid the fastenings of her dress. He stripped her of her beautiful dress, pulling her up to her feet to remove it. She quivers as he hesitated, drawing the next moment out and letting her anticipate the shame of it.
She felt him put his hand around her tail; she fouoght to not whimper or beg. "You have dishonored your kittenness. So, until I am satisfied that you have wiped this dishonor out, you may not wear your tail." Her Lord pulled the butt-plug tail out, quickly, but not roughly, then shoved her to the punishment drawer. Her rectum twitched as it closed back up on nothing. Her tail was gone.
"The suit, the tan one." Low moan escaped her, she hates this one.
"What was that? Did you say something?"
"No, my Lord. I do as you tell me."
"hmm, OK, but it sounded like you were upset with my order. Were you?"
Oh, the double bind; honesty and he would be even more upset, or dishonesty and even more punishment when she was discovered. She found a way to tell the truth that he would accept.
"oh, my Lord, I was upset to find out that you were that angry at my disobedience, not at your choice of punishment. I would never dispute my punishment, my sweet Lord."
