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Authors: Paisley Smith

BOOK: Purr
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Arabella’s shoulders sagged with relief. Hopefully, Petra
would be attending the komtesse instead of Giselle. Biting her bottom lip,
Arabella considered her thoughts. Why should it perturb her if the komtesse
favored Giselle?

The kittens were forbidden fruit and this fascination with
the komtesse’s favorite could prove very dangerous. But try as she might,
Arabella couldn’t control her obsessive thoughts about the woman who’d just
sucked the cream off her fingers.

She’d never been intrigued by anyone this way before. But
then again, she’d always been the assertive one, talking servant girls into
quick kisses and clumsy caresses. They’d indulged her because of her
position—not because they’d been
interested
in the prospect of more.

Arabella realized she enjoyed being pursued.

Kittens began climbing onto the tables, most chattering
excitedly about the initiation. When Petra came through the door, her face
bright and flushed, the others clapped and cheered. Voicing her gratitude, she
mounted Eva and Arabella’s table.

“You did well,” Eva said as she poured oil into her hands
and began rubbing Petra’s shoulders. “Arabella, fetch the water and clean her
bottom.”

Eager as she was to hear Petra recount her experience,
Arabella found herself disappointed that Giselle would now have to go to
another assistant.

She retrieved a basin of water and a bathing cloth and began
to gently bathe Petra’s crotch. Arabella noticed how blushed and swollen the
girl’s folds appeared. And her rosette still bore signs of the oily lubricant
used to ease the phallus inside her. Faint but still rosy strap marks marred
the pale cheeks. Arabella’s clitoris jolted at the memory of watching the
sensuous spectacle.

“I know I shall sleep well tonight,” Petra boasted.

“Ha! You might as well give up on that notion,” a blonde
kitten at the next table piped up. “The komtesse will be sending for you. Just
you wait.”

“Yes,” another added. “We all know how she adores her new
pets.”

Petra’s cheeks grew even pinker with pleasure.

Arabella chanced a glance at Giselle, who lay facedown on a
table while her assistant massaged her back with oils. Her expression didn’t
indicate whether she envied Petra’s position as new kitten.

“No mittens, no ears,
no tail
,” another of the
kittens teased. “You’ll be able to use your hands.”

“And do other things too,” a kitten added with a shake of
her bottom.

“Yes, and the komtesse enjoys wearing the harness,” yet
another injected. “If you’re not sore now, you will be come dawn.”

Again, Arabella noticed no reaction from Giselle.

A female servant strode into the room, bearing a card on a
silver salver, and Petra sat up expectantly. But her lips parted in dismay when
the servant bypassed her.

And delivered the note to Giselle instead.

A hush fell over the room as Giselle read the note then
climbed off the table, not even bothering to retrieve her robe before she left
with the servant.

All eyes riveted to Petra, who sat dumbfounded and near
tears, her bottom lip quivering.

Eva stroked her hair. “It’s all right, love. You need your
rest anyway.”

“Somebody needs to take that Frenchy down a notch,” one of
the kittens groused.

A chorus of agreements rang out amongst the others.

“You know why the komtesse favors her, don’t you?” one
kitten said, swinging her legs over the side of the table as she sat. She
didn’t wait for anyone to answer. “She’s the only one here titled as high as
the komtesse.”

“I heard it was because she eats cunny so well. You know how
those French are with their tongues,” said another. To prove her point, she
licked at the air.

A bout of laughter ensued that made Arabella ball her fists.
Maybe the komtesse had exquisite taste and recognized true beauty when she saw
it. Still, Arabella considered Petra somewhat of a friend. She hated to see the
novice kitten disappointed. And to be honest, she also hated to think of
Giselle alone with the komtesse.

* * * * *

“Leave us,” the komtesse told her handmaid as Giselle walked
into the spacious chamber.

“Fabulous,” the aristocrat crooned as soon as the maid
departed. “Now I have you all to myself.”

As if you didn’t own me in the den…

An array of the komtesse’s usual playthings was spread out
on the foot of the bed. A paddle covered with fur on one side and textured
leather on the other, a flogger, red silk sashes to blindfold and restrain, a
harness with not one but two thick faux cocks attached.

“I’ve drawn a scented bath for you,” the komtesse said. Her
crimson-and-gold banyan rustled as she came closer.

Giselle tried to not flinch when the aristocrat cupped her
cheek and caressed. “I’ve also requested that champagne be brought up. The
initiation has only whetted my appetite for you, my pet.”

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Please call me Katarina when we are in private.” Her dark
eyes drank Giselle in. Her hand skimmed down to Giselle’s breast, where she
cupped and squeezed softly before tweaking one of her nipples.

Giselle had wanted to remain distant but she could not. Once
again, her body succumbed and she arched into the other woman’s touch. Guilt
flared, fueling her need to suffer punishment at her lover’s hands.

Her passage tightened in anticipation of the exquisite
tortures Katarina had planned for her.

The komtesse patted Giselle’s bottom. “Into the bath with
you.”

Tingling from her scalp to her toes, Giselle started toward
the komtesse’s bathing chamber.

“I want you clean inside and out,” Katarina called.

Giselle’s blood heated and pumped thickly through her veins
as she stepped into the steaming, fragrant bath. She hadn’t realized how tired
she was until she immersed herself to the neck in the lavender-scented water.
Her tension melted away, replaced with the knowledge she would soon be
submitting completely, relinquishing control of and responsibility for what
she’d become and what she’d endured here at Katzenhalle.

It would be easier if she could simply accept her virtual
imprisonment, but something within prevented her.

“Here’s your champagne, my pet,” Katarina said, sitting on
the tiled lip around the tub.

Giselle accepted the glass of sparking liquid and sipped.
Surrender washed through her along with the effervescent drink. The komtesse
could be a cruel mistress and punishment was just what Giselle needed to
assuage this consuming guilt.

She lifted her gaze. “The assistants bathed me earlier.”

Something sinister flashed in Katarina’s eyes. She drew in a
deep breath and then let it out slowly before she stood and offered her hand to
help Giselle out of the bath.

With a tenderness the woman didn’t seem capable of
possessing, Katarina dried Giselle, peppering her body with almost chaste
kisses.

“You are so very beautiful,” Katarina whispered as she
tucked a lock of Giselle’s hair behind her ear. “So beautiful.”

Giselle said nothing, but instead drained her glass of
champagne and then moved into the bedchamber, where she bent and placed her
palms on the bed. The komtesse’s punishments were far easier to accept than her
caresses.

Katarina chose the fur-covered paddle and stroked the soft
side up and down each of Giselle’s legs, over her belly and around to her back.
Giselle’s heart thundered. The torture to come made her relish these moments of
tender comfort.

“None of my kittens enjoy the lash as much as you,” Katarina
said, her voice low and husky.

With that, she komtesse’s hand flattened on Giselle’s spine.
She held her breath until the paddle fell, the soft fur only drawing blood to
the skin’s surface, readying her for the wicked leather side that would leave
her stinging.

Over and over the furry paddle licked and teased. Giselle
wanted more. She
needed
more. “Punish me,” she heard herself say.
“Please.”

A low chuckle played in the komtesse’s throat and Giselle
gasped as she felt the sharp bite of leather connect with her bottom. The smack
echoed in the chamber. Heat shot through her then ebbed back into the site of
the blow to throb and burn. She wanted to buck her hips. Her clitoris pounded and
her nipples ached.

A second swat landed on the other side before, once again,
the soft fur brushed the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. Control slipped
away as the komtesse spanked her thoroughly, one side of her bottom then the
other. Tears burned Giselle’s eyes and slid down her cheeks. It hurt so
terribly bad, but some dark part of her needed to hurt. It was the only way she
could allow herself to relent, to enjoy the sinful pleasure of sex with another
woman.

“Taste me,” the komtesse commanded.

Trembling, Giselle sank to her knees and turned, opening her
mouth as Katarina’s cunny pushed against her face. Clinging to the komtesse’s
thighs, Giselle sucked the distended clitoris and raked her tongue through the
juicy folds, delving as deeply as she could into the opening. Once more the
traitorous image of the new assistant welled in her thoughts.

“Mmm,” Giselle voiced as she shifted to get impossibly
closer. Continuing to lave, she worked a finger inside the komtesse’s sheath
and tickled. All will stripped from her, Giselle poured herself wantonly into
her desires. The komtesse’s sex ground against her mouth and Giselle fought,
struggling to maintain her hold on the aroused pearl that served as the key to
Katarina’s pleasure.

Fingers entwined in her hair and she groaned when the
komtesse tugged her head backward. “Lie on the bed and spread your legs.”

“But you haven’t—”

“On the bed!” Katarina ordered, pointing.

Giselle scrambled to her feet and climbed onto the bed. She
stretched out and opened her thighs, shaking as the komtesse joined her.

“Look at that beautiful mons.” Katarina burrowed her fingers
into the tuft of curls before spreading the folds open. “Just look how pretty
you are down there.”

Giselle’s chest rose and fell with quick breaths.

“Tell me you want my mouth on you,” Katarina said, her gaze
never wavering from Giselle’s crotch. “Tell me you want me to lick your cunny
and your ass and that you want to come undone on my tongue.”

Clutching the counterpane, Giselle whimpered.

The komtesse plucked Giselle’s clitoris with her thumb and
forefinger. She arched off the bed, the little shard of pain coursing through
her body like sweet honey.
Oh yes.
Make it hurt.

Katarina’s eyebrow arched. “You’re wet for me.” A long
finger eased inside Giselle’s passage and back out again, making her ache at
the loss of it.

The komtesse leaned forward to trace the wet fingertip
around each diamond-hard nipple. After bestowing a thorough kiss on each
breast, she trailed her tongue down Giselle’s belly before blowing a heated
breath over her sex.

Again, Giselle rose to meet her partner.

“Tell me what you want,” Katarina commanded softly.

“T-taste me.”

“Lift your legs,” the komtesse said, her words muffled as
she began to kiss the eager flesh. “I want access to that lovely bum.”

Just the agony she would need to thoroughly enjoy this.
Giselle raised her knees and let her legs fall open impossibly wide. A tremor
caused her to jerk when two fingers slid into her channel and back out again
before coating her rosette with slippery cream.

As lips latched onto her clitoris, one of the fingers worked
past her rim and pushed inside. Giselle pinched her own nipples as a second
finger joined the first. Katarina’s expert tongue licked and swirled while the
fingers pumped in and out of Giselle’s ass. Pleasure and pain vied for
prominence and when Giselle pinched harder, pain won out.

In her head, it was as if the mechanism in a lock turned,
releasing her to give in completely to the two warring sensations. Her arousal
spiraled and exploded. Everything inside her body tensed as she forced herself
to accept all of it—the insidious decadence she knew would leave her in a
puddle of self-loathing after this night ended.

Katarina sat back on her heels. “Strap the harness on me.
I’m dying to fuck you.”

Obediently, Giselle retrieved the harness. Spasms continued
to rack her insides as she lubricated the twin phalluses. Katarina positioned
herself on her knees and allowed Giselle to insert one of the cocks inside her.
Moaning her pleasure, the komtesse held the apparatus in place while Giselle
fastened the belts that would hold it firm.

“That feels good,” the komtesse murmured before sucking in a
breath through her teeth. “Let me lie down.”

“Lie down?” It was easier for Giselle to take the cock while
on her hands and knees.

“Yes, I want you to ride me. I want to watch your face while
you fuck my big cock.” She reclined on the pillows and smiled at the sight of
the leather phallus standing erect.

Giselle straddled her and eased onto the cock. This should
not
feel so good. She should not be so eager to indulge herself. Hands cupped her
breasts and coaxed her to move. Leaning forward, Giselle planted her palms on
the bed and braced herself as she began to ride the faux phallus. It filled her
to capacity, stretching her to the maximum.

Fingers kneaded her nipples, tugging the invisible tendril
linking her breasts to her clitoris. Giselle groaned. Her eyes closed and
again, images of the pretty dark-haired assistant flashed in her head.

In spite of her circumstances, she’d never actually
fantasized about another woman, but this one wouldn’t vanish from her mind’s
eye. Giselle’s intention was to seduce the woman, which would be a simple feat,
given that the attendant showed blatant interest. Then Giselle would entice her
to help plan an escape.

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