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Kim had heard someone say once that there was a trick to keeping your stomach from realizing you were starving; it involved copious amounts of water and bread. She was beginning to think they might have been on to something. It hadn’t helped the throbbing headache and shaking from low blood sugar, but at least she wasn’t ready to tear someone’s head off for looking at her wrong.
Her bladder on the other hand. That was a different story. Kim clenched her bare thighs together as she pulled into the McKenna’s drive path. The angry red glow of the low fuel light taunted her the entire way.
By the time she was out of the car and up the stairs the pressure of her bladder swelled to remind her what a dumb-ass idea it had been to chug half a gallon of water. Through the slat in the door, she saw Elliot walking the hall, heading straight for her. Heat warmed her face as she wondered- had he found out the necklace was missing? Would he blame her for it?
Her hand was shaking from more than just low blood sugar by then, but through sheer force of will Kim managed to knock on the door right before Elliot got to it. He opened it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Maybe she was just imagining things, maybe she it was the gnawing hunger making her delusional.
“Morning, Kim.” He didn’t sound upset.
“Ah- morning. Can I slip past you? Just need to use the bathroom.”
“Oh, sure, go ahead.”
She scampered by, unable to shake the feeling that Elliot’s gaze was lingering on her backside. Perhaps not for the first time, she wondered just how much she actually cared. It’d been so long since she’d felt desired that she was starting to welcome the attention, even if it meant she was doing it for all the wrong reasons. A year couped up in an apartment did that to a person.
After finishing her business, she tidied up the bathroom quickly- only now becoming aware of how routine the tail was becoming, how it’s fuzzy presence against the backs of her thighs was a constant reminder of where she belonged. She blushed at the notion and opened the door. Elliot was standing right beside it. Kim’s heart sank. Maybe he had thought she’d taken the necklace after all.
Before she could even open her mouth, Eliot had sprung on her; his voice was firm, solid and demanding. “Here, come with me.” Like an obedient little cat, Kim followed behind as he lead her to the study at the back of the house. Boxes of books and knickknacks filled every square inch of the wood flooring under a thin layer of dust. Along the walls, several empty book cases stood a quiet vigil.
Kim frowned slightly. Until she saw the massive fireplace that dominated the left side wall- beautiful marble accent around a stone fire compartment topped with a silver inlaid mantle. “Wow,” Kim whispered.
“Oh, that? Yeah. . . That took me a lot of time to get right. My father had one like it, but he would never let me near it. I figured I’d have my own one day.” He glanced at her with a slightly wolfish smirk. “I tend to get what I want these days.”
“I’m sure you do. . .”
“So, what I’d like is if you’d not mind breaking down these boxes and shelving the books. Make sure everything’s clean and tidy, you know. If you need help moving anything, just leave a note and I’ll take care of it when I get home.”
During the discussion, Kim had consciously folded her hands in front of her waist; a practiced sign of ‘class’ and supplication and, more important to her at that moment, a way to hide her trembling. The headache made it hard to focus, bust she still managed. “Of course, mister McKenna. Ah. . . Anything else?”
In that second, he looked her over thoughtfully, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he strode towards her and placed a hand against the door beside her. “Kim, are you all right?” His whisper was hot and throaty against her face.
“It’s been a long night.”
“Mmm. . .” His brown gaze swept down her body once more and suddenly she became aware of how little her dress actually covered- how much it left wholly exposed. “If you need something, let my wife know.”
“Thank you, El- er, mister McKenna.”
He reached up delicately and with little more than a feather touch, brushed her whsipy bangs back from her eyes. “Say my name.”
“Elliot. . .?”
That earned her a smirk. “I knew we were right about you.” Before she could even dream of asking what he meant, he turned to the hall. “Going to be late. You know, you’re free to have lunch here if you’re hungry.”
“I- Are you sure?”
“Of course. You’re here all day, it wouldn’t be right not to offer. Just help yourself and if you want anything, let one of us know. My wife usually gets groceries on Friday.”
Thank god. Kim managed a genuine smile for the first time in a long while. “Thank you, Elliot-”
“Ah, ah, ah.” He tutted. “Mister McKenna.” İstanbul Escort Bayan
“Ah, yes. . . Yes, sir. My apologies.” Kim found a tiny grin on her own lips, she took the frills of her dress and curtsied a little.” Elliot stared at her for a second, shook his head and laughed.
“Good kitten. I’ll be home later, I have some running around to do tonight.”
“Sure, I’ll see you later.”
When it came down to it, Kim couldn’t focus, there was no way she’d be able to find the damn necklace among the boxes and books. That didn’t stop her from tearing the place apart in a vain effort to do so, though. She upended boxes, moved book cases around as best she could and even unrolled the ugly tan rug that had formerly been leaning against the wall, awaiting the day it’d see a clean floor and stocked shelves.
Yet nowhere did she find the damned necklace.
She stood in the middle of the room looking at the mess she had created and rubbing the back of her neck, muttering curses in every language- those real and imagined- that she could think of. Somehow she was sure that Elliot had directed her to the room, to show her where to look. But quite obviously that wasn’t the case. “Fuck it,” She whispered. She needed something to eat.
When Kim turned Sylvia cleared her throat. She was leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed under her breasts, hugging her bath robe to her body like a second skin. It did its best to accent her lithe form, too. “So. . .”
Kim frowned. “Uh, so. . .”
“Ah, just a project Elliot wanted me to clean up.” Kim glanced back. “Kind of a work in progress.”
Her dual toned eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Dangerous ground, something even Kim could pick up on. Sylvia, like her husband, didn’t take well to people who failed them in some way, it seemed. She shook her head and made a come here motion with one delicate finger. When Kim didn’t immediately jump, she said it firmly. “Come here, kitten.”
Kim’s brow knotted as she approached. “Wh-” was as far as she got before Sylvia was on her; breaking into her space. The slimmer woman pressed her body to Kim tight, wilting the catgirl maid with the heat of her demand. She balled her hand into Kim’s hair, voice a sharp hiss of intensity Kim had never heard before. “Your job is very simple, kitten. You clean up messess, you work for us, right?”
“I-” Kim was dumbfounded as to how to reply.
Sylvia pulled her hair back, forcing Kim to arch a little or risk pain. Before she knew it, the lithe woman was behind her, voice still firm and controlled. Hot against her ear now. “You’re being a bad kitten. I won’t tolerate it. Do you understand?”
“I- I- I-” Kim stammered. She tried to pull away but the younger woman held her firmly in place.
“Do. You. Understand?”
“Y- Yes mistress.”
Sylvia pushed against Kim a little, harder when Kim gave. They were a couple feet from the wall when Kim put her hands out to brace herself. Sylvia didn’t stop psuhing, though. “You say that. . . But I don’t think you mean it, kitten.” The woman’s voice took a throatier rumble to it, harder and more intense. Right against Kim’s ear. “He’s not here, he doesn’t have to know, Kitten.”
In spite of herself, Kim whimpered. Who the hell was this woman?
Then came the slap. It was hard, unforgiving. Sylvia’s whole palm smashed against Kim’s ass with a loud ‘clap’. Kim whimpered louder, her nails digging into the plaster. “Ah!”
Sylvia pulled her hair a little harder. “Do you even want this job, kitten?”
“Y- y- Yes, mistress. I- I do.”
SLAP! The fresh sting on Kim’s ass was her reward. She grit her teeth.
“Are you going to do better, kitten?”
Kim whimpered loudly. “I will, mistress. I promise. I’ll- I was just looking for-” SLAP “Ah! Mistress, I was looking for the-”
“Shh.” Sylvia’s finger pressed to the catgirl’s lips. “You’re talking when you should be listening- I want this room cleaned up before dinner and everything put away. . . Do you understand?”
Kim was trembling, unable to speak, she nodded weakly.
“Kitten.” Sylvia demanded.
“M- Me- Mew.”
Sylvia didn’t ease up in the least, holding the older woman against the wall, hand full of hair clenched tightly between her fingers. “Good girl.”
Kim whimpered, mewled again.
“That’s it. . . Goooood girl.” Before she let go, the younger woman cooed in her ear. “Get this place cleaned up. Now. Or we’ll be doing this again.” Kim whimpered. “And again. And again.”
“I- I- I understand, m- mistress.”
“Do you?” Sylvia’s weight pressed down against the older maid, pushing against her generous ass and the fresh hand marks that now painted it. She deliberately angled her body so the plug jostled around inside her anus- a master play that made Kim clench her knees together tightly, fearing she’d try to pull the plug out. “Do you really, Kim?”
Kim’s legs buckled a little. She mewed İstanbul Escort louder.
“Good,” the younger woman said firmly. “Don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t, mistress.”
Sylvia pulled back, leaving Kim half bent over, half arched against the wall and shaking like a leaf in the wake of the encounter. Her entire body bristled with goose bumps and as Sylvia disappeared into the hall, Kim hugged herself, trying to gather her racing thoughts.
She was blushing. Hot, liquid shame.
But it wasn’t just shame. . . She could feel the tiny bit of moisture, hot against her inner thighs. In spite- or maybe because- of this, Kim sunk her teeth into her lower lip, eying the door warily.
Her breath was short and hot against her own lips. What the hell happened? How had she lost control so quickly? Kim put her hand over her heart and caught her breath, easing off the wall after a second.
What a bitch.
She was still biting her lip as she wandered over to the stack of boxes and picked up some books. She stood there shamefacedly for a moment, not entirely sure what she was going to do, but knowing deep down that something had just changed drastically in her relationship with her employers.
Somehow she wasn’t sure just what yet, though.
After breaking down a couple boxes of books and filing them away, Kim dared a trip to the kitchen for lunch, silently praying Sylvia had gone off to do something else- simultaneously relieved and disappointed she had.
Kim dampened her lips in anticipation of lunch to come, but found her disappointment when she opened the fridge only to find it empty. Then she remembered that she’d been going to mention it yesterday; she’d forgotten.
“Son of a bitch,” she whispered.
That meant going to Sylvia. That meant asking for money to get groceries. . .
Sylvia’s voice made Kim jump. “What’s the matter?”
“Ah!” Kim grabbed her chest. “Uh. . . Uhm- food.” She recovered herself eventually. “I guess I need to go grocery shopping.”
“You guess?” She peered around the edge of the door. “Oh, look at that. I guess you do.” She gave Kim a smug grin. The bitch knew exactly what was going to happen. “I suppose you’ll want some money, then.”
“You suppose right.”
That earned her a narrow eyed glance.
“Tch,” she turned away. “I’m sure you can write a grocery list, right? Get enough to last a week- soy milk for me and two percent for him.”
“Yes mistress. . .” Kim did her best to keep out of arms reach as she ran through a quick list from the recipes she knew how to cook and what she imagined they might like. She was just about to turn it over when Sylvia rounded the bar with an envelope of cash. And her robe open, giving Kim a perfect view of her young, firm body and the tiny patch of brown pubic hair that dusted her caramel colored pubic region. Kim should’ve looked away, but instead- she found her gaze traveling deliberately up the woman’s toned abs, cuppable breasts and her throat- she met Syvlia’s smirk evenly. She could play those kinds of power games too, dammit.
Sylvia slithered into the space between them as she set the envelope down. A mere inch away from Kim’s face, she whispered. “You intrigue me.” Her tone had lost its sharp edge and instead seemed bemused.
“Mmmmm. . .” The younger woman drank in Kim’s scent, head tilted slightly. “Yes.”
Kim froze in place. She’d never met a woman this aggressive, this demanding. . . She’d never been this curious to see where things could go if she let them, either. With a shuddering breath she managed to whisper, “Well, I’m pretty open.”
“I know.” Sylvia purred. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
“I- I think you’re the girl here.” Kim swallowed, not quite believing it. “You just want to be a woman.”
Sylvia leaned in a little closer, nuzzling playfully against Kim’s cheek and sending the maid’s heart into her throat. “Mmm. You smell good. . .”
“I try. . .”
“D- don’t mind that.” Kim exhaled. “W- What do you want from me, Sylvia?”
“Mmmrrrrmmmm. . .” The younger woman leaned further into Kim so her scent trailed along her catgirl’s neck. She turned a little, kissed her neck and, in a low throaty growl, whispered. “I want to see where you’ll go with us, kitten. . .” Her teeth nipped at Kim’s throat. “I want to see how good of a girl you really are.”
Kim clenched her teeth. She knew better. She shouldn’t. She couldn’t. . .
She shuddered. “I’magoodgirl-” and apparently a fucking idiot.
Sylvia rewarded her instantly by taking Kim’s earlobe between her lips and pulling on it playfully, murring in her ear. A kiss on her cheek, her throat. She drew back to see the damage she was doing and Kim tried to kiss her. Sylvia put her finger to the catgirl’s lips, voice firm and in control once more. “Bad kittens get punished. If you’re a good girl, I’ll reward you. Escort İstanbul Do you understand?”
“I-” Kim huffed. “I can’t believe this.”
Sylvia slapped her mouth. “Bad kitten.”
“You speak when spoken to around me.” The girl’s finger touched Kim’s pouted lips, gliding effortlessly down to her chin. She cupped the older maid’s mouth with a secret little smile. “Do you understand, kitten?”
“M-. . .”
“Good. Girl.” Sylvia leaned in, touching her lips to the other side of her finger. Her voice was a liquid purr that smelled faintly of toothpaste- poisonous candy in the best of times. Her dual toned eyes watched Kim’s- flickers of mischief and demand arced through her relentlessly calm gaze; she knew where they both stood and she was going to ensure the maid- her maid knew it too. “Now, kitten. Go to the store. Get out food. . . Then you can finish taking care of our home.”
Kim blinked several times. “U- Uh. . Y- Yes, mistress.”
“I- I have to get changed, mistress.”
Sylvia drew back, head tilted a little. She scoffed. “No, kitten, you’re not.” At Kim’s confused expression, she arched a brow at her. When it finally did dawn on Kim that she was being asked- told she was going dressed as is, her body shuddered involuntarily. That earned a smile from her employer who leaned forward into her space and bounced back again. “Good! Hurry back, you’ve got some cleaning to do.”
Kim watched the woman bound out into the hall with an increasingly sinking suspicion that she wasn’t going to have much of a choice in such decisions in the future. Kim clenched her thighs together, huffed out a quick sigh.
There was an odd comfort in that thought.
Kimberly Williams: writer, car mechanic- when she wanted to be- and sometimes catgirl maid for the eccentric. Kim couldn’t find it in her to smile as she trod down the isle of the Piggly Wiggly with her cart, chucking things in as she went with the same grace and consideration one used when tossing nuclear fuel rods. With every movement, the little bell on her choker jingled softly, drawing attention whenever she’d pass by someone she was tiptoeing to avoid.
This was ridiculous! Why had she ever agreed to put on this stupid outfit in the first place? She saw it in the looks of other shoppers- the subtle appraising glance reminded her outfits like this belonged in the bedroom and not in public. At the house was one thing!
At the house it was safe.
Sort of. If she didn’t count Sylvia.
Sylvia’s fault. This was all her fault. . .
Kim huffed dejectedly, tossing in a box of noodles. There wasn’t anything she could do now anyway. Oh, but she’d try. Yes, Kim was many things but a quitter was not one of them. She’d get back and unpack the groceries and then she’d find that damn necklace; she could still recover her pride, too.
It’d just take her a little time, that’s all.
Kim veered around the corner facing the cash out isles only to have her heart sink when she saw that only one lane was open and several people were standing there while the poor cashier was being berated by someone who insisted that their coupon was still valid.
She clutched the basket and sighed. So much for getting out unseen. . .
“Mommy, look! she has a tail!”
Oh no. . .
“Uh huh, that’s nice.”
Kim glanced back. A little girl was looking at her tail covetously, then when she realized she was being spied on, she looked up at Kim and gave a bright, innocent smile. Kim managed one in return. Just barely. Content the girl wasn’t going to do anything- she was too shy to engage in conversation and so what Kim when it came to it, they struck a mutual agreement to ignore one another.
The catgirl maid. Kim mused as she snatched a magazine from the rack and flipped through it idly; if she was lucky, she’d have a place to bury her face where no one would look. They’d probably be too busy looking at her ass, anyway.
The thought was actually kind of comforting; if no one knew who she was, they’d never be able to point at her when she came by to buy her own food- when she could afford it again.
Kim felt a tug on her tail- she clenched involuntarily, fighting with the downward pull. Fighting the moan that tried to work its way up her throat. She blushed sharply and looked down at the girl. A quick glance at the mother found her not paying attention- big surprise- Kim narrowed her gaze and hissed softly.
This earned a giggle from the girl.
“Little traitor,” Kim whispered.
It was in that position, half bent over her cart with a child tugging on her tail that Kim Williams realized she was having much more fun with this than she was entitled to. She buried her face in the magazine and prayed silently that the coupon god would hurry the hell up and prove its disciple right.
Once Kim got back, she immediately started a ham cooking and went about scouting the entire house for any sign of Sylvia. When she didn’t find the younger woman, she made herself a cheese sandwich and woofed it down en-route to the study. There was a time for poise and grace, but when it came to it, Kim was- and always had been- a little rough and tumble.
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