Mistress Pet Is A Good Kitty

Mistress chirps for you from a few rooms away. You race through the doorway and down the hall until you see her in the living room, sitting on the sofa, tapping her hand on the armrest to summon you.

When did you get so good at running on your hands and knees? You can't remember anymore, you only have a vague awareness that you didn't used to be able to do it well at all.

You spring towards her, stopping to rub your face all over her feet. You love the smell of her feet, and you love making them smell ever so slightly of you. You look up at her, hopefully. When she invites you up, you leap onto the sofa and lay across her lap.

She plays with your ears gently for a time, poking and petting them, and then brushes your hair. Without her care, you know your hair would soon be a dirty, greasy, and matted mess. With her care, you have a healthy lister. Besides, you LIKE brushies. You like the attention. You like the feel of the hard, rubber bristles on your scalp and skin. And you like how Mistress makes you look.

As you purr loudly, she strokes your body gently, from your neck down to your hips. Her touch varies from the gentle tickle of her fingertips, to a faint scratch, and to something much harder. Being naked no longer feels strange. It seems like it used to feel off, but those memories are little more than vague, implausible concepts now.

When you are good and relaxed, she begins playing with your tail. You remember Mistress giving you your tail, but cannot recall when it was. It seemed like it was momentous at the time, but in retrospect it feels obvious and inevitable. She pulls on the tail until it nearly pops out of your ass, and then lets go, allowing your body pull it back in. You mew contentedly with each cycle of pull and return, action and reaction, call and response.

She spanks you gently, and you leap off of her lap and lay down beside her. You lean your stomach towards her as you lay out to her left. She plays with your chest absentmindedly while she watches TV. You stretch, arching your back, and pushing your breasts towards her. She responds to the invitation with increased intensity. Everything she does feels beautiful and exquisite; both your body and mind are fortunate to have found her.

Long ago, you would have longed to orgasm, all the more for the rebuke it would have earned you, but the chastity she had been enforcing on your body has long been superseded by the hold she placed on your mind. You are a good girl forever now, and you love her for making you so.

She strokes your face and neck. You bend and stretch to give her the access to your body that she knows you covet. She knows where and how she wants to touch her, and you bend yourself to anticipate her will.

She then nudges you, a signal for you to get off of the sofa. You leap to the floor, then run across the room and climb up to your perch. From there, crouched low with your back barely below the ceiling, you have an excellent view of the room.

You watch as she gets up and leaves the room. You watch the sofa. You no longer have any sense of the passage of time, but you wholly trust Mistress to return. Your eyes stay fixed on the sofa for the few minutes it takes her to return with a snack and drink, and then upon her, intermittently grooming yourself and scratching your post, as she eats and drinks while watching the rest of her program. The sights and sounds of the television hold little interest for you, all the more when Mistress is present.

When she gets up again, she signals for you to follow her into her bedroom. You watch as she undresses herself down to her smooth skin and tufts of hair and then slips under the soft, cool covers of her stately bed. You happily curl up near her feet, awaiting her benediction. She leans forward, drapes a blanket over you, and kisses the top of your head. With that, you quickly drift into joyful sleep.

Life uses to be so hard and complicated. You remember that feeling, even if the actual memories are forever lost. Mistress has liberated you and made you truly happy. You love her.