Purr-fect Pet

Purr-fect Pet

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How to describe my lifestyle? Well, I work from home as a web designer — that’s the boring part. But I am also charged with “being at home” per the arrangement I have with my very affectionate master. Calling myself a “live-in sex kitten” sounds like I’m joking or making some exaggeration, but I’m being literal. Allow me to explain.

I am sure that some of you would describe yourselves as “cat people.” Well, Master and I are, and we own two pedigreed seal-point Himalayans who spend their days looking elegant. And maybe some of you also harbor some secret (or not-so-secret) fantasies about the Marvel/DC Comics villainess Catwoman? I mean, who can’t appreciate a vampy, sensual babe who can rock a latex bodysuit and bring those caped crusaders to their knees? Master has never made any secret about his Catwoman fantasies, and he loves showing me off at any couples’ cosplay event!

So with a mutual adoration of things that are “feline” in nature, he and I started off as your basic vanilla couple. Once we moved in together, we enjoyed mixing it up with some domestic discipline — and it all feels so natural. Strange as it might sound, with all the freedom I have working from home, sometimes I need a push to give me more focus and order. Knowing that Master will spank my bottom red if I procrastinate or leave on the oven makes me soaking-wet!

Now, Master is always generous with rewards for a job well-done. If I manage to greet him at the door in a nice dress with dinner ready, he’ll reward me by savoring my pussy for dessert — and he’ll make me come until I squeal! But if I have a “naughty day,” then I look forward to my firm spanking and the slow tor-ment of craving my own release.

This arrangement isn’t for everyone, but it definitely suits us, both in and out of the bedroom. After just a few weeks, I found that we connected more sexually, but we also learned more about each other’s needs. A few months into our domestic-discipline bliss, we were on the couch watching old episodes of Bewitched when Master paused the television during the opening credits: “I love this.”

“What about it?”

“The way the animated Samantha changes back and forth from adoring traditional housewife to sweet purring cat.” He stroked my thigh. “It makes me think of you.”

At first I laughed, but then I got serious. “Would you like me to purr for you?”

“Yes.” Master pulled me close and nuzzled me. “And I want you to absolutely crave my affection.”

“And rub against you?” I whispered as my hand ventured south to his manhood.

He playfully “bopped” my nose with his index finger: “No, sweet kitty — not until I say so.”

Of course, I persisted. “Ooh, no — don’t disappoint me.” I nuzzled his neck and kissed my way down his chest.

Master shook his head. “Cats always know how to get their way.” He reached around and lifted my chiffon baby-doll top, squeezing my bare bottom. “How can I say no?”

I giggled and purred, undoing his lounge pants. “I’ve been wet for you all day.”

I began to polish his shaft with my mouth, working him down my throat as much as my gag reflex could allow.

Master groaned and held my hair back: “That’s right, baby. Make sure I’m nice and slick.”

I have worked very hard on my deep-throating skills throughout the years, and I love upending control this way. I sucked him and purred, making the vibrations in my throat tease him even more. After a few moments of this, my poor Master could barely contain himself.

“Enough!” he gasped with ragged breaths. “Stop — get up.”

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