Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

X X X

Taming A Kitty Cat

X X X

Sylar stares at his girlfriend in a mixture of astonishment and uncertainty. "Elle?"

Elle ignores him. She crawls around the apartment on all fours, looking up at her surroundings curiously. Eventually she climbs up on the table and crouches down, resting on her bottom. She tilts her head and stares out the window intently.

Claire shifts uncomfortably on the couch.

"What's the matter with her?" Sylar frowns.

"Uh…Elle asked Peter what ability he had, and he told her body insertion. Then she asked him to show her…" Claire trails off, watching Sylar's expression.

Body insertion…Curious, he wonders how that works. "Go on," Sylar prompts.

Claire continues, "Well. Peter was going to put Pompom in Shell, but—"

Sylar cuts her off, "Aren't you Pompom?" Elle calls Claire that all the time.

Claire glares at him. "No. Pompom is my cat," she points with her finger, "and that's Shell."

Sylar looks at where she is pointing and sees a small turtle in a glass container. He rolls his eyes.

"Peter was going to put Pompom inside Shell," Claire explains, "and then Elle tripped on her five-inch heels and got in the way…so…Peter put Pompom in her by accident."

"What?" Sylar looks at Elle with disbelief and worry on his face. "Why didn't Peter undo it?"

"'Cause Peter touched me by accident and absorbed my power instead. He had to go find the special with body insertion to get his power and then come back to fix Elle…" She adds reassuringly, "Elle'll be fine. She's still in there, Pompom just has control over her body."

Sylar relaxes slightly with relief. Well, if Peter fails, he will just have to track down the special with body insertion and do it the unpleasant way.

He slowly walks towards Elle. In close proximity, Elle turns with alert and watches him with wary eyes.

A cat, huh? Amused, Sylar reaches out to stroke her neck—it is said that cats like that—and Elle closes her eyes contently and leans towards his touch. "Meow."

"Good girl," Sylar chuckles. He can't say he does not enjoy Elle as a pet. He can only imagine Elle's reactions when she gets her body back.

X X X

I. Day One

Sylar had to promise Claire thirty-seven times that he would not have sex with Elle while Pompom is inside her.

"You think I'm going to rape your cat?" Sylar stared at Claire in disbelief. "Honestly, Claire. I don't know who the psychopath is here."

Even so, Claire was still reluctant to let Pompom go home with Sylar, though there was not much that she could do to stop him.

Sylar watches with enjoyment as Elle crawls and sniffs around the apartment, evidently intrigued by the foreign environment. There was not a chance that he was going to come home without Elle, he muses. He has not seen Elle for days because he was helping Peter with his stupid world saving mission. He misses his girlfriend. Pet or not, Elle has to stay with him.

Bathing Elle has proven to be a challenge. Pompom seems to hate water even more than Elle does—is that even possible?—and puts up quite a fight when Sylar tries to drag her in the shower, but telekinesis comes in handy.

That night, Sylar leaves a soft pillow on the couch and goes to bed on his own, leaving Elle alone to explore the apartment. Soon Elle curls up into a ball on the pillow and falls asleep.

II. Day Two

Sylar comes home with a pair of gel knee pads on the next day. He stares at the disaster in the apartment in dismay, and then at Elle, who looks up at him innocently by the door.

"Meow."

Sylar sighs and uses his telekinesis to send the shattered glass from the floor to the trash can and roll the tangled yarn on the couch back into a ball, then he sends the scattered books back onto the shelf and puts a pile of paper back into a stack.

When he is done tidying up Elle's mess, he puts the gel knee pads on Elle's knees. Elle gives a small frown and starts clawing at one of them.

Sylar smacks her hand away sternly. "No."

Elle blinks. She licks her hand where it got smacked and crawls away.

Sylar leaves Elle in her solitude for the rest of the day, only giving her the occasional pats on the head when she approaches him.

III. Day Three

Sylar cannot help but notice how much cleavage Elle is showing as she crawls around the apartment. He gives a wolfish grin.

Well, that is Elle's body, and he has every right to look at it. He takes off Elle's clothes—which Elle does not object—leaving only her bra and panties on. Used to his touch by now, she purrs lowly as Sylar strokes her blonde locks, and then she starts licking his finger.

Immediately Sylar regrets his actions. He has not realized how much he misses Elle up till now. His breathing quickens and his cock becomes a little painful in his jeans. Damn it. It has been days since he last had sex with Elle. Having her crawl around half naked is not going to help him.

Sylar exhales heavily. Where the hell is Peter? This is all his fault.

"I know you can hear me in there, Elle," he sighs, his voice hoarse and low. "I can't wait to fuck your brains out when you get back."

IV. Day Four

Sylar wakes up to the sound of a loud bang from the living room. He tries to cover his face with a pillow, only to hear a muffled crash.

He gets off his bed, still slightly groggy and definitely annoyed. "Elle," he enters the living room and growls.

"Meow," Elle whines, sitting beside a pool of water and pieces of broken glass.

At this rate, his apartment will be destroyed in mere days. Sylar blows out a breath and throws out his ex-water jug, and then he notices a trace of blood in the small pool of water on the floor.

He checks Elle's hands and feet, but they are not hurt. Then it occurs to him that she might have been drinking water from the broken jug. He grips her face firmly and forces her mouth open, and finally sees a red cut on her tongue.

His heart churns and he resists the urge to lick her tongue. He groans in frustration, tortured by his own desire. Perhaps he really should have left Elle with Claire.

Sylar sighs and pats her head chastely. "That's why you have to drink from your bowl."

When Sylar settles himself on the couch and turns on the TV, he decides to keep Elle with him lest she decides to break anything else and disturb his peaceful afternoon. He wraps one arm around her waist and keeps his hand on her belly, holding her in place.

Elle does not seem to mind snuggling up with Sylar. However, she does mind the hand on her belly. Pompom generally does not like to expose her belly, let alone letting people touch it. She pushes Sylar's hand away.

Sylar smirks. She is his pet. He can put his hand wherever he wants. He puts it back on her belly.

Elle pushes it away again, only to have Sylar's arm wrapped around her even tighter.

She lowers her head and bites hard.

Sylar winces, not expecting the attack. Seeming to know that she is in trouble now, Elle quickly scrambles away, but Sylar is faster. He pulls Elle back and holds her in his lap. When Elle continues to struggle against him, he smacks her head—only hard enough to startle her and stop her movements. He lifts her chin and says firmly, "No biting."

Elle blinks and licks her lips, slightly nervous. Then she lowers her head again—Sylar braces himself for another bite—and licks his hand where she bit him.

Sylar raises his eyebrow in amusement. Pompom is definitely easier to tame than Elle. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

X X X

It is the middle of the night and Sylar can feel a weight on him. His face is itchy and his neck warm. He opens his eyes and sees Elle on top of him, blonde locks tickling his face and she is—licking his neck. He growls and flips her over, ready to take her right then and there, only to stop himself when Elle lets out a meow.

Oh God. Sylar slumps his head in defeat. This is not his girlfriend.

"For Christ's sake, Elle!" Sylar picks Elle up and brings her to the living room. This time he makes sure to lock his bedroom door.

V. Day Five

Pompom!Elle has really warmed up to him fast. In fact, Sylar comes home today to a particularly friendly Elle. She follows him everywhere and seems to meow for his attention more than usual. The only thing that hasn't changed is the mess in his apartment—she broke something again.

Pompom!Elle usually enjoys solitude, but not today. When Sylar sits on the couch and examines a broken watch closely, Elle jumps onto the couch and snuggles against him. Without taking his eyes off the watch, Sylar gently pushes Elle off of the couch, which usually is a signal enough for the kitty cat to leave him alone.

But not this time. Elle jumps up again, this time she curls into a ball beside him, resting her head on his lap.

Sylar frowns and looks at her, but since she is not disturbing him, he turns his attention back to his watch.

Fifteen minutes have gone by and Sylar starts to shift uncomfortably on the couch. Bad decision—he curses himself—letting Elle rest on his lap. Elle rolls her head to the side again, for the twenty-eighth time in the past fifteen minutes, rubbing her head against his cock. It is worse when she suddenly becomes intrigued by the shiny button on his jeans and starts to claw at it.

Sylar stands up abruptly, causing Elle to sit up with a jolt. He takes a deep breath, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans. When he turns back to look at Elle, she is playing with a ribbon, pulling one end and chewing on the other end. Sylar looks closer curiously, where did she find a ribbon?

And then his breath gets caught in his throat and his mouth goes dry. That is not a ribbon, that's a bra strap! A bra strap that has somehow fallen off of her bra, causing half of her snow white breast to spill out of the bra.

Noticing Sylar's gaze on her, Elle tilts her head and looks at him with maddening innocence, still biting on the bra strap.

"Fuck." Sylar storms off to his room and closes the door behind him. He opens the window and lets the cool breeze clear his head. Elle Bishop, he muses, you're going to pay for this.

Sylar frowns. No, this is not Elle's fault. He takes out his cellphone and dials a number.

When the call goes through, he grits his teeth. "Peter. Where the hell are you?"

Peter seems taken aback at his rough tone. "At home. Why?"

"You're back?!" Sylar scowls. "And you didn't come to fix Elle?"

"What?" Clearly baffled, Peter replies, "I did. I came over this morning and fixed her. You were at work, but Elle let me in."

"What?" Sylar furrows his brows, his turn to be confused. "You mean…Pompom…?"

"Pompom is with Claire, why?" Suddenly Peter laughs. "Is Elle still pretending to be a cat? Haha, she got you good, didn't she?"

Sylar hangs up the phone.

Oh Elle, you are so going to pay for this.

X X X

Elle has to suppress a giggle when she sneaks into Sylar's room tonight. When the kitty cat had control over her body in the past few days, she could not do anything but watch from the back of her head. She can't say that she was not entertained by Sylar's sufferings though. She could see that he wanted her, the desire written plainly on his face when he looked at her.

It thrilled her.

Watching Sylar repress his lust for her and tidy up Pompom's mess over and over again just makes her want to laugh. How could she not take advantage of the situation? After all, she does not always get to deny Sylar of what he wants without some sort of consequences.

She tiptoes into Sylar's room as quiet as she can. She creeps closer, only to find his bed empty. Elle frowns and whirls around, there is no one in the room. Where is he?

Suddenly a hand covers her mouth from behind and her boyfriend whispers in her ear, "Did you have fun, Elle?"

Elle gasps, her heart jumping violently in her chest. Shit.

She takes Sylar's hand off of her mouth and turns around, smiling sweetly. "Gabriel—"

"Uh-uh." Sylar makes a closing motion with his hand, willing Elle to snap her mouth shut. He smiles mockingly. "Kitty cats don't talk."

Elle widens her eyes in shock, feeling outraged and nervous and strangely, turned on at the same time.

A wave of his hand and Elle walks to the bed and lies down, her body out of her control.

Elle wants to yell at him. You can't do that! But all she can do is let out a muffled whimper. She doesn't like this game anymore. If she cannot speak, then she has no chance of overpowering him. Sylar knows she likes some sort of control in bed, and now he is giving her none.

Worst punishment ever.

Sylar is on top of her immediately. He chuckles, acknowledging the fact that if eyes could kill, he'd already be dead. He strokes her cheek, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he speaks, "I do like you better as a cat, more docile and less snarky."

Elle rolls her eyes at him. Asshole.

Sylar unclasps her bra and tosses it aside, then he takes off her panties. His eyes takes in her body and he caresses her skin all the way from her thigh up to her chest. "I've been waiting for this ever since I came back. I missed you, Elle." He cups her breasts in his hands.

Elle glowers at him. I did't miss you at all because you're such a jer—She draws in a breath sharply when Sylar takes her nipple in his mouth, gently tugging it with his teeth until it's hard and swollen, his hand pinching the other nipple.

Elle moans helplessly within her throat. This is…not…fair…

Sylar spreads her legs. He trails kisses along her side, sucking and marking her skin. Elle lets out a muffled squeak when Sylar runs his tongue up her clit, licking it up and down relentlessly while his fingers continue to tease her breasts.

Pleasure ripples through her body and Elle can feel herself coming undone under his touch. She whimpers, she is close…more, more…

And then he stops. Elle groans in frustration, and Sylar laughs. She pouts at him petulantly, now he is just being cruel.

Sylar smirks and inserts a finger in her pussy, which is already soaking wet. His own breathing becomes heavy as he adds another finger, sliding them in and out of her gently, her moans like music to his ears.

Not enough. Elle whimpers louder in protest, not enough.

Sylar's lips quirk up into a smug smile. "Now you know what it feels to not get what you want."

Realizing that she can talk now, Elle decides to save her snarky responses for when she is in a more advantaged position. Instead, she says imploringly, "I'm sorry."

Tingle. Sylar huffs a laugh. "Elle, I like how it sounds, but that's a lie." His fingers have stopped moving altogether.

Oops. Elle whines, "Gabriel, please. I want you. I'll be good."

Another tingle. Sylar frowns. "Say that again."

"I want you," Elle repeats, her pussy throbbing for more.

No tingle. Sylar exhales with relief. "And?"

"I'll be good."

There's the tingle. Sylar shakes his head. "You hopeless little liar." Then he takes his fingers out and flips his hand over, making Elle flip around and stand on all fours. He gives her ass a light smack. "Now that's more like a good kitty cat. Meow for me."

"What?" Elle blurts out before she can stop herself. "Gabriel, I swear I'm gonna shock you to Kingdom come—"

"I don't think so," Sylar taunts and smacks her ass harder. She yelps. "You had plenty of chances to talk today but you only wanted to meow. Now you don't want to meow. Can never please you, can I?" He caresses her smooth back and rubs his cock against her entrance.

Elle moans. Unforgiving bastard. Then she mumbles something that Sylar can't quite make out.

"What?"

"Meow!" Elle pouts. "Meow!"

Christ. She is perfect. Sylar nuzzles her neck and thrusts his cock into her welcoming pussy. Elle gasps at the fullness at once, "Ahh." She is already close from before—

"So…tight," Sylar breathes, "so…perfect." He starts pounding into her, his hands holding her waist in an iron grip. Still unable to move, Elle moans frantically as he rams into her fast and deep, each thrust sending her helplessly closer to her climax.

"Too…fast…" Her breath caught in her throat when Sylar reaches down to stroke her clit. A few strokes and the tension building in the base of her stomach becomes almost too much. "AHH…Gabriel…"

Sylar pants heavily behind her, he moves faster and grabs her breast with one hand and strokes her clit with another. She gasps when his fingers on her nipple suddenly turn icy cold, and the sensation pushes her right over the edge. She shudders under him and comes crying out his name, squeezing his cock tightly. Sylar groans as her walls clamps down around him and he spills inside her.

He releases his mental hold on Elle and she collapses on the bed, her arms shaky from supporting her weight the whole time. She turns around and pulls him down to kiss him, opening her mouth to welcome his tongue. When Elle winces at the sting on her tongue, Sylar laughs and licks the small cut gently, his breathing still heavy. "Naughty cat got what she deserved."

Fairly sure that Sylar is not just talking about the water jug, Elle is about to retort when he adds, "And don't think I don't know that you made a mess in the living room on purpose tonight. You better clean that up."

Elle widens her eyes in disbelief. "So you'll tidy up for Pompom but not for me? And we just had awesome sex!"

Amused, Sylar remarks, "Pompom is a good girl. Are you a good girl?"

Elle pouts. "But I don't have telekinesis. How am I supposed to clean up?"

Sylar rolls his eyes, not even bothering to respond to that.

"Please," Elle gives him her charming smile and uses her good girl tone. She snuggles up against him, "Please, Gabriel. I love you. You know that's not a lie."

She is trying to manipulate him again, Sylar knows it. Then why is his resolve weakening?

"Please, Gabriel," Elle whines and gives him her large puppy blue eyes. "We just had sex, you're supposed to be nice."

Sylar sighs, unable to bring himself to say no to her when she begs. "Fine."

Elle grins and kisses his cheek.

See, what did she say? As long as he lets her speak, she can always overpower him.

-The End-

Author's note:

I always find body insertion to be an interesting ability (the way future!Peter puts his younger self in Jessie's body). So I guess that works on animals too.

And the person with telekinesis should always be the one who cleans up!