Service Cat

My spacey gaze lifts from the linoleum to the wooden door when it moans ajar and she's standing there. Her shirt is pinched between her jeans and her smooth, large stomach. Her mahogany eyes sit above dark bags, fatigued from the third shift at the bar. It's 6am, but she hasn't slept. I only woke before dawn so I could greet her like this. Black pleated skirt and crop top, a headband with two feline ears perched on the peak, and her black, leather collar wrapped around my neck. I wanted to surprise her and I spend the next minute looking up at her from the floor, studying her to see if I actually did.

Her eyes join mine, then part; her pupils seem to dilate in the low-lit room, or maybe it's from looking at me. I can't tell, I'm just anxious to know if I pleased her. Part of me is nervous she isn't in the right mood for this and I got all dressed up for nothing, it shows in the way my hands play with each other, thumbs twiddling and rubbing against one another.

"Good morning, kitty, you're up early." Her voice is low, but smooth, like melted chocolate. She is a goddess. The dominant lays her bag down at the door, sheds her trenchcoat from her shoulders to drape upon the coathook, and scratches my head, running her fingers through my freshly washed and dried locks.

I purr in acknowledgment, nuzzling her legs with my head. Her thighs aren't soft through the jeans, they're rough, and the fabric feels so bad to the touch. I hate when she wears jeans and I immediately decide I won't be satisfied until I can feel her body against my cheek. I kneel back onto my knees, meeting her eyes once again to ask permission, my hands resting on the button. She consents with a soft nod, watching me carefully as I fight at the clothing. "My perfect kitty, did you get up early just for me?"

"Yes, miss," I murmur, releasing the cold, polished button and pulling the zipper handle down, "I wanted to help you before I have to leave."

She beams down at me working the jeans down her thighs, "Oh, honey, you're such a kitty for me, servicing your miss so well."

I glow at the praise, avoiding her eyes in shame, but she denies me that defense, forcing me to show everything to her. It only turns me on more, though. I feel it in my stomach, pooling warm and aroused.

Her jeans settle at her feet in a heap of denim, unveiling the boxers she'd worn to her job at the bar. I peer up at her and whimper in lust; my hand rests on the elastic waistband. There isn't a flash of hesitancy when she bows her head, and I take that as my green light. My fingers fumble with the band, jerking them down her thighs, revealing her pussy, soft and wet. I whine again, this time at the blood rushing south from my head.

She smiles in approval, her fingers departing from my hair. "Good girl, come on, bring my clothes up to the room and you can take care of me, can't you, sweetheart?"

I nod enthusiastically, clutching her jeans and underwear as she steps out of them, however, she immediately stops me with a soft, "tsk, tsk, tsk, Kitty."

My gaze moves from the articles of clothing to the powerbottom standing above me. She's boring down at me with a playfully disappointed gaze in her eye.

"Now, kitties don't use their paws to carry things, do they, pet?"

I switch my gaze from her eyes to my hands and immediately drop them, realizing my mistake. No time wasted, I lean down and bite the clothing, picking it up with my teeth this time; I return my eyes to her to which she smiles and starts ahead of me. I can't help myself but peek up to her ass twitching just the slightest bit with each decline of her foot; it only incites my desire as I crawl after her, unclear if I have permission to stand or not. We tread up the stairs, she's dragging her feet, her posture slouched. I know it's my job to fix it. Or at least ease her stress however I can.

We summit the peak of the stairs, take a sharp right to the bedroom, and that's where I wait, the carpet pressing red patterns into my knees. My dominant strips herself of the last of her clothing as she enters, dropping the shirt and bra lazily to the carpet before collapsing atop the blankets of the bed. Her legs dangle off the edge. I open my mouth above our laundry basket, releasing the clothing from my iron bite and pad across our floor to her legs. She doesn't react, only lays there, resting her eyes and breathing deeply to calm herself. I don't ask for permission, I know I don't have to. I acknowledge what she wants, and I'll do exactly that.

Not a moment is wasted as I get a good grip of her ankles and tug her closer, stifling the gap between my lips and her folds. It forces her clit directly in front of my face, her legs kick out in surprise. She gasps but I ignore her; delving my face between her thighs and lapping needily at her clit as if my life depends on it, I begin to work on her. Her soft groans and cries of pleasure echo off our walls, hips twitching, thighs clasping my skull tightly. I can't breathe, but it's heaven.

"F-Fuck," She whispers, shaking, "Good girl for me, my perfect little kitty. God, fuck-"

I purr, teasing a finger at her soaking wet entrance, not completely entering, just taunting her. I feel her throbbing around the very tip of my finger, begging needily for my touch. I'm not sure if I'm asking for permission or maybe purposefully pestering her. I figure it's both, circling her hole with a slow, teasing motion as my tongue continues to work at her clit. It's subtle, forcing her to beg or demand I finger her. She's sick of it fast.

A hand darts from her side to my hair, gripping it painfully hard. I yelp in surprise, and jump back from her pussy as she snarls at me. "Don't fucking tease me." She looks me in the eye as she says it, glaring right into my scared, horny expression. Her eyebrows furrow, baring her teeth at me as she puts me right back in my place. After a moment, she adds on a slightly lighter note, while releasing my hair, "You do want to fuck me with that pretty little girlcock tonight, don't you?"

My shaft twitches under my skirt, the fabric swaying slightly against me. I whine a soft, but eager, "Yes, miss," returning to her clit and pressing one finger in, then another. My fingers soak immediately, beginning to wrinkle at the pads; she moans, spreading her legs away from my skull to allow me better access. I know my job, and with that last bit of confirmation of her pleasure, my fingers delve deep.

"Good girl, good girl, good girl," She chants, moaning as my fingers stroke her upper wall furiously, scratching her sweet spot, "Shit, fuck, make me cum sweetheart, good girl."

I begin working tenderly on her clit, knowing from our experiences together, she gets sensitive quickly. Her digits touch my scalp, long nails grasping my hair softly but stern, just to imprison me, to let me know I'm not allowed to pull away until she's satisfied. It's our play of power. My goal is her happiness, and I know I am succeeding as she hisses in pleasure; her hips buckle against my face. Her breathing grows in pace as I work her loose, her breasts rise with each inhale. They look too naked. I press my free hand forward, clasping her left nipple between my thumb and index. Her hips buckle against my lips as she groans out another, "Good girl, I'm close, I'm so close."

It's those final words from her lips that fire my determination into overdrive. I begin fucking her and curling my fingers inside her at the same time; With each thrust in, I push harshly up. Her pussy is soaking my fingers, her wetness overpowering everything. Her entire body moves with the thrusts of my fingers and I'm forcing her closer with each stroke. In return for my labor, she tightens and clenches around me, gripping my hair slightly harder. My tongue darts out from between my lips, circling the nerves they've been working at for the past few minutes. I lap against her over and over again; I'm pressuring her into the orgasm, forcing her to relax for me. She fumbles at the hand on her nipple and I detach, letting her tangle my fingers between hers and she squeezes my hand with such force I'm afraid it'll fracture.

Her scream of pleasure echoes off the walls, ringing back into my ears. I feel her thighs clasp around me once again and tense impossibly hard, shaking through her climax. Her back arches, her hand tugs at my hair I continue to pleasure her, letting her ride her pleasure out. I know I'm not allowed to stop until she says I can, and I take those orders to heart. With her last few gasping breaths, she finally scratches my head softly in finality, showing her desire through the silent communication we've developed over the years.

"My good kitty," She whispers, blinking down slowly at me in exhaustion. My face is covered in cum, I can feel it, and I know she sees at as she grins warmly. She pulls her torso up and leans down towards me, swiping a thumb across the lower half of my face.

"Open up, kitten, you can be good, can't you?" Of course, I can. My jaw drops open, my tongue already out, awaiting her thumb. She glows at me, her cheeks red and her eyes warm, then presses her thumb in. I immediately clean it off, meeting her eyes with mine as she coos, "My good kitty."