A. Kitten: "Occupation" 

I took a minute just to feel the towel tucked securely under my arms.
Thick-white-fluffy-soft, it anchored me in the real world after last
nights' play. And my hair--sliding my fingers down a lock, I thought
for the millionth time how thankful I was to still have it. Sometimes
I think that's the only part of me that isn't ugly.

Climbing out to the roof, I wondered where everybody was hiding.
Usually anybody who can make a weekend, does. Not that I minded the
solitude. Adam (who I'd left napping) said this was a great place to
sit and think. I definitely needed some thinking before I could talk
out last night's scene with him.

Sunrise had bloomed and matured before I heard footsteps joining me.
Surprisingly, it was Mistress Rebekah behind me, not Adam.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so shocked; my co-recruiters had an unwritten
agreement about me. Master's treatment was always thrilling (and when
they shared me, yum!). But he was just a friend. Becky's my soulmate.
Too bad she's bi like I am--which is to say, only sometimes, and even
then only with certain people. Unrequited love, and all that jazz.

"Whatever they say about this city, our sunrises are as pretty as
anyone else's," I finally offered.

Mistress got straight to the point. "Did you steal a towel, slave?"

"I was going to put it back," I answered innocently.

"Let me," she riposted. I hesitated, and she grinned ferally. "I want
that pretty sunrise to see all your pretty body." Meekly, I handed
over my towel, shivering in a way that had nothing to do with the
temperature. She casually discarded it, grabbing my hips, digging in
her fingers, pulling me back against her. Ever the exhibitionist, I
encouraged her with a small, hoarse moan, enjoying the morning air.

"I like you shaved," she whispered, bending to chew an ear.

"Me too, kinda."

"I don't remember Adam planning that, though." Gloved hands flew up
and down my body.

I blushed. "I was due a punishment, Mistress."

"Oh? And after?" Wordlessly, I pointed out the unbelievably small mark
on my mons, the only visible sign of my adventure. I threw my head
back when she pushed my hand away and probed it, applying just enough
pressure. "I see." Her tone became serious. "We should talk... Adam
mentioned this guy Mike was bothering you."

"Not really." Bizarrely, I was going all melty from Mistress's hands
and carrying on a conversation at the same time.

"Something about he'd laugh when you got raped?"

"Mike made a bad joke, that's all. I think Adam was more upset than I
was." she sighed, sympathetically stroking my tummy. "I'm used to it.
I heard the same stuff and worse back when I slept with men. He's not
the first horny asshole who's gotten pissed once he found out he can't
treat me like an object."

"True. Because only we can treat you like an object."

We were interrupted our moment by the sound of a masculine throat
being cleared. Mistress shuffled me in a semi-circle, presenting me to
Master Adam.

"Did you get your wish?" he asked.

"Last night was... interesting, Master." Clever rubber-coated touches
were waking up my nipples, making it hard to concentrate. I flushed
deeper, trapped between my tormenters. "I'd like to try that again."

"Did it help?"

"No.... When I'm alone, cutting hurts. With you was fun."

"I'm sorry." Everything passed between us in an instant, and we saw
each other for the first time. Then I snapped back into myself, alone
in the arms of my lover.

Mistress Rebekah was half holding me up, still stirring my insides,
her other silky-warm hand tracing the inner slopes of my breasts. "I'd
like to put some nice, sharp needles in these." I whimpered. "Surely
you aren't thinking Adam gets to violate your lovely skin and I
don't?"

She switched hands, and her latex glove left slick trails of me on my
chest. "Ahh, maybe later, hmm?" I crooned as she wrung a small orgasm
out of me, hips rotating helplessly, already half feeling needles
sliding under my skin. The pressure inside only built higher.

"For now," she concluded, clipping a leash to my collar, "you just
come with me."

I didn't have much choice.

**

Mistress led me to a blue-wallpapered room with a tiled floor. The
only furniture was a latex-sheeted armchair, moved slightly away from
the center to make way for the room's true centerpiece.

Nick was naked on his hands and knees, showing off his trim butt. The
toys scattered around his legs made it painfully obvious where this
was going--he looked so nice and fun to touch!

"Time to be an object, little one." My smiling captor thrust me
through the door, smirking. "You two are going to put on a little
show." Still holding my leash, she settled herself in the armchair.
With a hand on my shoulder, she pushed me down until I knelt in front
of her.

"Give me the gloves," she ordered, removing her own. Ignoring my
fellow submissive, I reached behind myself and retrieved the box. "And
your hands." I held them up and spread my fingers while she tugged a
red pair in place, wincing at the sting when she evilly snapped the
wrists.

Then, silently, Mistress motioned me away.

Uncertainly, I turned to Nick. He was gazing at me calmly, curiously,
as well he might. He had nothing to worry about. I had experimented
with switching before--once--but I felt pretty weird "topping" while
leashed. I was nervous, running my hands along the swell of his
muscles, the smooth expanse of his flesh, finally spreading his
cheeks.

Glancing up, I saw Mistress sitting serenely in her chair, night-black
hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing an inscrutable expression.
There would be no help from that quarter. The scrumptious noise he
made when the first drop of lube hit his asshole, though, gave me a
shot of self-confidence.

Nick groaned out loud when my finger pad touched him, the sound
lengthening and deepening as I pushed inside. I started massaging his
fluttering ring of muscle, first one finger, nervously adding another,
three now, gradually beginning a sawing motion while he relaxed.

I reached up his back, tickling the nape of his neck, trying to match
my rhythm to his quiet panting. Eventually, I judged he was open enough,
and took up the cute pink buttplug, squirting lube on it, too. I
rolled it around his opening and pushed his legs a bit wider, watching
his thighs shake with restrained lust. Bracing one hand on the small
of his back, I slid steadily into him.

Everything seemed so far away. He moaned long and low, his front half
bobbing up and down, seeking the best angle. When I pulled back, he
followed the retreating shaft, emitting a drawn out hiss of
excitement.

"Here," Mistress called, breaking us out of our foggy little world of
lust. We both turned slightly toward her, two pairs of eyes following
the foil-wrapped square's perfect arc down to my knees. I let the
dildo sink into him fully, until he snapped around the flange. He
whined, no doubt enjoying the thick shaft sliding home. Quickly, I
unwrapped the condom and covered his erection. I laughed to myself and
snapped the opening, soothing him when he jumped skittishly.

"How does it feel, Nick?" Mistress taunted. "You like being full of
long, hard woman?" He moaned again, louder, humping my hand while I
wriggled the base. We were both taking rapid, shallow breaths and
sinking back into our arousal. I'd almost forgotten about my leash
when I felt it go taunt. "Now!" Mistress Rebekah shouted.

"'Now' what?" I wondered sluggishly. But her command had not been for
me.

Nick sprang off the floor. Frozen, I noticed disconnected details. How
strangely he moved with the plug in him. Hands tugging my collar
making me oh-so-conscious of our being on display. Him shuddering from
the bumps rubbing deep inside. An overwhelming awareness of brute
physicality brought by my mate's breath hot on my neck.

Suddenly, he tackled me, forcing my arms back, shoulders down, facing
Mistress's chair. She was leaning forward, catlike, intent on the
action. One delicate hand dipped slowly into her leather pants.

My shame and arousal fed each other in a vicious cycle. All sense of
scale and place were gone. I cooed and grunted as he worked inside me,
pushing my breasts uncomfortably into the tile. I felt like an animal,
helplessly taken. Struggling to submit, I realized how little I'd
really been in control.

Mistress's eyes met mine, her arousal evident, and I quiveringly came,
leaking tears, humiliated, yet proud I'd pleased her. Nick leapt
inside me and plunged harder. He throbbed through his own orgasm. We
fell languorously together, a sticky pile of used-up flesh.

**

"You may go, slave," Mistress instructed Nick. His weight lifted and I
heard his bare feet slap across the tile to the door. I lay spent and
sweaty on the floor, watching Mistress's glistening hand rise above
her waistband. "Come closer, little one," she ordered warmly.

Without being told, I closed my lips around her damp fingers, licking
and sucking for her amusement. Peeking out through my lashes, I found
her smiling kindly down on me. She tousled my hair making me sigh with
contentment.

She considered me thoughtfully. "What time do you have to leave?"

"Noonish, Mistress," I answered, eyes downcast.

"So we have time," she decided, rising. "Heel, little one!"

I trotted after her.