Purr (2 page)

Arabella glanced at Petra, who merely stood waiting, chewing
her bottom lip.

“Silly goose, pull up your skirts. That humility will get
you nowhere at Katzenhalle,” the komtesse said impatiently.

Shaking, Arabella slowly gathered her skirts and lifted the
fabric over the tops of her ribboned stockings to bare her thighs.

“Higher.”

A voice in her head confirmed she’d wanted this. She’d
wanted to be intimate with another woman, so why was she so frightened when the
opportunity was clearly presenting itself? Even Petra had told her everyone
here sought to earn the komtesse’s favor. In a swell of courage, Arabella
raised her skirts to her waist and held her breath as the komtesse appraised
her.

“Lovely. What a beautiful black pelt you have.” The
aristocrat stepped closer, fingers reaching. Her eyebrow arched in wicked
amusement. “I’ll wager it’s quite soft as well.”

Arabella’s breath faltered when those fingers touched her.
There
.

Her pulse pounded so hard she could feel it in her ears. The
digits threaded into the curls and then deliberately ventured farther, stroking
their way through the sensitive folds. Arabella knew she should ask the
komtesse to stop but she couldn’t utter the words. All she could do was
experience the exquisite touch of another woman’s hand stroking her in ways
she’d only ever dreamed would happen.

Her gaze flicked to the sentries who stood dispassionately
at the door and then to Petra, who seemed mesmerized and even somewhat envious
of the komtesse’s attentions.

“Spread your legs.” As the komtesse stepped to Arabella’s
side, the whispered command tickled her neck as if had been caressed with a
feather.

A thousand thoughts at once flew through her confused mind.
Two hours earlier, she’d believed she would be punished for such wanton
behavior with another woman. But now she was
ordered
to do it. She
wanted to submit completely. She’d never felt anything so sinfully wonderful.
She didn’t want this to ever stop.

Obediently she scooted her feet apart, granting the komtesse
complete access. The fingers teased and caressed until Arabella thought she
would melt on the very spot. She ached to close her eyes and simply enjoy the
sensation but she didn’t know the protocol. She meant to give voice to words
but instead a helpless whimper warbled in her throat.

The komtesse drew impossibly closer. Arabella clutched her
skirts tighter as a second hand smoothed up the back of her thigh and
fingertips traced the cleft between her ass cheeks. The fingers on her mons
flattened and began to massage the rigid little bud at the apex of her folds.
Arabella’s stomach tightened. She arched her back just a fraction but it was
all the invitation the komtesse needed.

An insistent fingertip nudged against Arabella’s most
private recess.

She gasped, knowing she should protest though simultaneously
hungering for more. Her thighs trembled.

“Does that feel good to you?” the komtesse asked.

“Yes, your Ladyship.”

“Your
Mistress
.”

“My…Mistress,” Arabella repeated, voice faltering.

“Good. This is just a taste of the delights you can
experience at Katzenhalle if you will but obey the rules set forth. Do you
understand?”

“Yes, my La— My Mistress,” Arabella croaked. She could no
longer think coherently. Something she’d only known at her own touch was
happening and Arabella couldn’t prevent it. She didn’t
want
to prevent
it.

“You will never be violated by a man at Katzenhalle. Here,
you will only know a woman’s touch. A woman’s kiss betwixt your thighs.”

Arabella’s desire spiraled.

“If you serve me faithfully, then you will be granted status
as one of my pets and you will know this pleasure time and time again.”

Arabella could hear the komtesse speaking but the words
trickled in as if through water. She couldn’t think past the feeling building
to a fever pitch between her legs.

The finger at her nether hole slipped through the creamy
slit and then, with one wriggling push, breached the tight rim and slid inside.

Arabella’s pulse rioted. She’d never dreamed invasion there
would feel so scandalously good. All at once, the sensations culminated and
burst like a sudden crack of lightning, rattling through every ounce of her
being. The intensity of it fired to her scalp and downward to her toes,
churning in her abdomen until she became aware of the sound of her
uncontrolled, bliss-filled moans.

Sudden coldness followed when the komtesse’s hands fell
away. “You can drop your skirts now,” she said with stony frankness as she
offered her fingers to Petra, who wiped away the shimmering residue of Arabella’s
juices with a handkerchief.

Even as her clothes fell back into place, Arabella would
have thought she’d imagined the whole episode had it not been for the warm, wet
throbbing at the juncture of her thighs.

“You will serve as an attendant to my kittens. I have many,
as you will see. The kittens are the most pampered pets at Katzenhalle and you
will do well to remember it. I will tolerate absolutely no abuse of my pets,
and
that
, mind you, includes satisfying your carnal cravings with them.”

Arabella stared. Carnal cravings?

“You are never to touch one of my kittens for pleasure or
allow yourself to be pleasured by one of them. Neither are you to kiss them on
the mouth. Mouth kissing is strictly forbidden at Katzenhalle. Punishment will
be sure and swift. And public.”

No kissing? Arabella wanted to ask the reason for a
seemingly arbitrary rule, but just as she opened her mouth to speak, the
aristocrat laughed, a wicked, wild laugh that sent a chill up Arabella’s spine.

“Petra, should we give our new assistant a glimpse of the
kitten den?” the komtesse asked.

“Yes, my Mistress.” Petra swiftly walked across the study
and pulled open a secret panel door in the wall.

Arabella could never have prepared herself for the sight
within.

The windowless room contained a dozen or so beautiful women,
who lazed in various positions on luxurious rugs and thick pillows. Some
crawled on hands and knees while others lay curled up together. The vision was
shocking enough without the details that struck Arabella the hardest…

Each woman wore nothing except fur leggings, fur mittens,
catlike ears on their heads and fuzzy tails jutting from their bottoms.

One crawled on hands and knees to the komtesse, who bent to
stroke the woman’s head. “I’ll have cream for you later, my pet.”

The entire sight was hedonistically overwhelming. But at
that moment, Arabella knew she’d do anything the komtesse asked in order to
join this menagerie of female felines.

Chapter Two

Arabella could scarcely take in all the erotic sights and
sounds of the kitten den. The komtesse seated herself on a plush throne-like
chair situated on a dais at the head of the room. Soft lighting glowed dimly
from the multicolored, tinted panes of Turkish lamps, casting the
kittens
in hues of rose and blue and gold.

One shapely blonde kitten leisurely licked the neck of a
brunette who wore white ears and a bushy white tail. Another kitten padded past
on all fours and Arabella gasped aloud when she realized the tails were seated
inside
the bottoms of each of the women. Her cunny clenched in memory of how the
komtesse’s finger had tantalized her own anus.

“Giselle,” the komtesse’s voice rang out. “Here, kitty,
kitty.”

A lovely brown-haired kitten with black ears and tail
crawled toward the komtesse to brush her face against her Mistress’ skirts.

“Precious kitty,” the komtesse cooed as she leaned forward
to stroke the kitten’s head. And then she drew up her skirts, scooted to the
edge of her chair and spread her legs wide, revealing a dark thatch that barely
concealed the glistening pink lips within.

Arabella stared mesmerized as the kitten-woman burrowed her
face between the komtesse’s splayed thighs. Giselle tasted gingerly at first
then nudged in deeper. Her tail swayed provocatively as she devoured the
komtesse’s cunny.

In the throes of ecstasy, the komtesse clutched the armrests
of her chair. Her head fell back and she moaned. Her pelvis rocked into
Giselle’s face.

This morning, Arabella could never have imagined such a
sight, much less such an existence. Her gaze flicked to the other kittens who
all sat watching, their expressions indicating they would each relish trading
places with Giselle.

The komtesse exhaled several ragged breaths and then petted
Giselle on the head. “Good kitty. Sweet kitty. You do that so well.” Drawing
her skirts back down, she slid back and then patted her knees. Eagerly, Giselle
positioned herself over her Domme’s lap, raising her backside and spreading her
thighs.

After gently tugging on Giselle’s tail, the komtesse slid
not one but two fingers deep inside the kitten’s passage and worked them in a
quick, pistoning motion. Giselle bucked. Her head dropped and her lips parted.
Long, low moans spilled from her shapely mouth. And when the komtesse’s thumb
and forefinger latched on to the kitten’s nipple, Giselle began to writhe in
unbridled bliss.

Arabella could not take her eyes off the luscious sight. The
komtesse’s fingers glistened. Arabella’s clitoris pounded with need. A quick
glance at the other kittens told her the frustrating want in the room was
almost palpable.

Sinful thoughts of lying naked amidst all these beautiful
women, of being touched, of exploring soft bodies, pervaded Arabella’s mind.
Her senses reeled until she thought she would swoon.

Giselle melted off the komtesse’s lap and began to
gratefully kiss her slippers. The komtesse merely leaned back in her chair and
brought her cream-coated fingers to her lips. “Off with you,” she said, waving
the kitten away.

On all fours, Giselle began to crawl away but not before
lifting her gaze to Arabella’s. The kitten’s bold stare sparked embers between
Arabella’s thighs. Giselle’s beauty was incomparable but there was something
else. Wonder. Promise. Lust?

Unable to hold the penetrating stare any longer, Arabella
looked away. “How does one become a kitten?” she whispered to Petra.

“Through faithful service,” she offered. “I am to be
initiated tomorrow.”

“Initiated?”

“Yes,” Petra said. “Come with me. I will introduce you to
Helga, who oversees the assistants.”

“How long have you been here?” Arabella asked, falling into
step beside Petra as they exited the den.

“Nearly a year.”

Disappointment welled in Arabella. “A year?” She couldn’t
possibly wait that long to experience more pleasure at the komtesse’s capable
hands. She glanced back at Giselle, who’d stretched out on a fur rug.

“I was uncertain that I wanted to become a kitten,” Petra
explained. “The initiation is…stringent.” She gnawed her bottom lip. “I must
admit, I’m afraid.”

“Afraid? Of
that
?” Arabella pointed back toward the
den.

Petra’s luminous blue eyes turned misty. “The initiation
rite is different. You will see.
Everyone
will see tomorrow and I fear I
will shame myself.”

“I don’t understand. Do you have a choice?”

Petra’s wistful expression faded. “We
always
have a
choice at Katzenhalle—in every matter but the ability to leave.”

“Then why would you choose something that frightens you?”
Arabella asked pointedly. Discretion had never been a virtue she possessed.

“I can no longer suffer the need for a woman’s touch.”

Arabella’s brow furrowed.

Petra continued. “We are only allowed to experience pleasure
if the komtesse sanctions it or if we are initiated into the den.”

“So we are not allowed to form…relationships?” Dismay
blossomed.

“It’s strictly forbidden, and if you are discovered you will
be exiled,” Petra said. “That is one of the reasons the komtesse forbids
kissing. She deems it far too intimate and says it encourages insubordination.
Besides, we’re not welcome on the outside. It is rumored that many who’ve gone
against the rules have been locked away in asylums or worse, tortured and
jailed. Only after initiation into the den will the komtesse decide who your
partner is to be. Helga will explain all the rules.”

The excitement Arabella had initially felt was quickly being
dashed on the marble floor. There were more rules here than at home.
Frustrating rules at that.

“And Arabella, I caution you. Do not under any circumstances
break the rules. Despite them, we do enjoy a certain freedom here that we would
never know in the outside world.” She stopped walking. “Here we are.”

Mulling over everything she’d seen and heard, Arabella
followed the servant into a long narrow room that boasted a row of waist-high,
padded tables, walls bedecked with various fur ears and all colors of both
sleek and bushy cat tails. Each fur tail was fitted with a strategically carved
wooden dowel obviously designed to seat the tail firmly in the kitten’s anus.

Once more, the memory of the komtesse’s finger slipping past
her rim and wriggling into her bottom caused Arabella’s channel to clench. Her
confidence suddenly wavered. A thin digit invading her for a few minutes was
hardly a thick dowel designed to be worn for hours.

She tore her gaze from the wall to take in the rest of the
room. On the other side sat deep tubs ready for filling, each one replete with
a stopper and drain to carry the water outside, presumably to the river below.
Unguents and oils displayed in colorful bottles lined shelves over the tubs, as
well as thick drying cloths and sumptuous robes. Again, Arabella mentally
questioned Petra’s reticence to become a kitten. What about the initiation
could be so daunting it would prevent her from rushing headlong into
kittenhood? Especially when all these luxuries would be provided.

A woman strode toward them, her tight Slavic features made
even sterner by a straight, deeply lined mouth, piercing blue eyes and
gray-streaked black hair combed into a tight bun. Arabella guessed this was
Helga. A tremor crawled up her spine until Helga gave her a welcoming smile. “You
must be Fräulein Lehmann. Here, ceremony amongst the staff is not observed. We
are all on familiar terms…Arabella.”

Uncertain of how to respond, Arabella remained silent. She
nodded her acknowledgment.

“I am Helga and I manage the attendants to the komtesse’s
kittens. Follow the rules to the letter and you will thrive at Katzenhalle.
Break them and be assured, swift punishment will follow.”

Still mute, Arabella nodded again.

“Punishment is based on the nature of the transgression, but
know that you could be banished. You have been brought here because of the
komtesse’s compassion for us Sapphics.”

“Sapphics?” Arabella asked, but instinctively she knew the
answer.

“Women who prefer sexual relationships with other women,
dear. Are you of that ilk?” Helga folded her arms over her sparse bosom.

There was no point in denying it. Not in this place. “Y-yes,
ma’am.” An odd lightness of being filled Arabella at the bald admission.

“Then you will find safety and happiness here provided you
follow the rules,” Helga stated plainly. “Petra, you should rest before your
initiation tomorrow. And Arabella, you will begin your training as an
attendant. Hard work will earn you the komtesse’s favor. She is not one so
easily swayed by a coy eye, so keep that in mind. Shameless flirting will only
infuriate her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Helga,” the woman corrected.

“Helga.”

The older woman drew in a breath and then blew it out with a
sense of finality. “So be it. Welcome then. Good night.” With a curt nod of her
head, she spun on her heel and marched out of the room.

“She’s Prussian,” Petra whispered when Helga had disappeared
from earshot.

“Ah.”

“Come. I’ll show you to your room. The rooms are small but
we each have our own,” Petra said, venturing into the hall once more. She
cleared her throat and then added in a whisper, “We have our own rooms because
of the komtesse’s strict rules about fraternization. Temptation is everywhere.
Do not get caught.”

Arabella was tired and quickly growing weary of these
warnings. Relief swamped her when they finally arrived at a row of doors. Petra
led her to one at the end of the hall and opened it.

The room was indeed small, but equipped with a
comfortable-looking bed. After all of Petra’s overzealous cautioning, Arabella
couldn’t help but notice the bed was only big enough for one person to sleep
comfortably. A washstand with a pitcher and bowl dominated the opposite wall
and a night table had been positioned next to the bed. Fresh linen, a stack of
drying cloths and a nightgown lay folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Her
room at her uncle’s estate had been a little less spartan.

Petra stepped inside and lit the candle on the nightstand.
“If you need anything, my room is directly across the hall.”

“Thank you,” Arabella said, looking forward to climbing into
bed.

“Good night, then,” Petra said as her expression suddenly
turned from placid to fearfully expectant. She gave a little nervous laugh.
“Please don’t think less of me if I fall apart at my initiation tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there?”

“Everyone at Katzenhalle will be there. A new kitten’s
initiation is a momentous event.”

Arabella squeezed Petra’s arm reassuringly. “You will do
fine,” she said, even though she hadn’t the least idea what would be required
of her new friend on the morrow. “Sleep well.”

Petra nodded and then skipped across the hall to her own
room.

Alone with her thoughts, Arabella closed her door, made her
bed and changed into her nightgown. She blew out the candle and lay down but in
the darkness, images from all she had experienced sped through her brain. Nude
bodies. The komtesse’s mischievous smile. Women adorned with ears and tails.
Gilded furniture and sparkling chandeliers.

Her needy clitoris ached for attention so she spread her
thighs and stroked it with the pad of her middle finger. She revisited the
sight she’d seen in the den, of Giselle nudging her face between the komtesse’s
thighs.

Arabella had never tasted another woman, but suddenly it was
all she could think about. What would it be like to trace her tongue over the
swollen ridge of another woman’s clitoris? Giselle’s clitoris… How would it
taste to explore the concealed crevices and soft flesh of her cunny?
Instinctively, Arabella lifted her hips toward her hand as she began to massage
in earnest. The komtesse’s touch had felt so wonderfully good. She wanted it
again.

Visions of bending over to be fitted with a tail caused hard
desire to surge through Arabella’s loins. She saw herself being invited to bow
over a lap, to have fingers thrust inside her while the dowel seated tightly in
her bottom offered the most pleasurable torture. But instead of the komtesse,
Arabella imagined Giselle doing these things to her.

Bliss built and crashed over her but Arabella didn’t stop
touching herself until she’d found release twice more.

This morning, she would never have dreamed such a place
existed. Any trepidation she had about being brought here vanished. Gone was a
life as a baron’s niece, and available to her now was a life where she would be
accepted…and possibly loved.

Tomorrow morning, everything would be different.
She
would be different.

* * * * *

Arabella stood behind Eva, the young woman who’d been
enlisted to train her. The preparation room seemed drastically different with
all the assistants bustling about in their cherry-and-white-striped skirts.
Many discussed Petra’s initiation, with some even making wagers on whether
Petra would go through with it or back out.

All the speculation and Petra’s own hesitation about the
initiation piqued Arabella’s interest. What would be required of her? Arabella
had pondered it but could get no answer from the other attendants, who seemed
amused by her curiosity.

The door opened and the kittens began to file in. Each woman
wore nothing but a pink silk robe, which they immediately shed and passed to their
attendants before climbing onto the tables and positioning themselves on their
hands and knees.

Despite what she’d seen the day before, Arabella was
unaccustomed to such flagrant nudity. A hot blush infused her cheeks at the
sight of all the lovely bottoms raised high, nether parts exposed.

And when Giselle entered the room, Arabella’s stomach did a
little somersault when she thought of how she’d touched herself the night to
fantasies of the woman.