This story contains themes of the BDSM lifestyle most specific to Petplay or Kittenplay.
Stream of consciousness style up to a point. Filled with kink and love around every corner.
This will not be for everyone, but if you have any questions at all about the life they live I'll be happy to answer them to the best of my ability.
For Kelley. ILY, my dearest one. You're the best friend I could ask for. You feed my insanity so perfectly.
Ashley, thank you times one million and two for jumping so on board this crazy train and indulging my need to write this kink.
He moves the brush gently through her hair. It tugs and pulls and feels wonderful because it's him. He follows with his fingers, moving through the strands with ease. His touch is feather light and she feels her skin pebble everywhere.
The room is silent except for the crackle of the fire he lit. He wants her to be warm and happy. She watches the tiny flames dance around and marvels at their movement. They are not unlike her and Master the way the move together.
The brush snags on a tangle and she winces. He places a tender hand on the top of her head in apology. His touch is soothing to her. It makes her forget the momentary pain.
"I'm sorry, kitten." The words are whispered against her ear and they send shivers all the way to her tail.
He works through the tangle and scratches behind her ear, just like he knows she likes.
Once he has finished, and her hair is smooth and glossy and shines brighter than the sun, he sets the brush on the table, but continues to run his hand over her smooth hair.
He loves to pet her. This is their quiet time together – when he can forget all worldly responsibilities and simply be.
She curls around his leg on the floor and rests her head on his knee, happy and content.
She wonders if he'll give her a bath tonight. She hopes and she wishes he will. It's always her favorite part of the day. He loves it too, and when she rubs her cheek across the scratchy material of his pant leg, she knows he will.
He loves her too much to deny her anything she wants.
He lifts her chin and holds out his hand to her. She takes it and lovingly crawls into his lap, laying her head on his chest. His hand spreads out across her back and she arches into his touch, knowing he'll never let her fall.
He strokes her back with quiet precision and turns on the TV. He needs this time at the end of every day. A surgeon's job is one of never-ending concern, and this is how he unwinds from it all.
He reaches over with his free hand to grab a feather toy that is lying on the end table. He laughs when she paws at it, trying to get it away from him. He pulls it out of her reach at the very last second every time, loving the adorable way she pouts at his teasing.
She curls closer to him and buries her face in his neck, inhaling the scent that could only be him – all hospital sanitizer and sandalwood cologne.
He is a contradiction.
He's an enigma to her, though she knows him better than she knows herself. She wishes she could read his mind, but the mystery is comforting, too.
There's something to be said for trusting someone enough to give them control.
She nuzzles his neck and leaves soft and hard and light and playful kisses along his jaw. She shifts in his lap and he's already hard beneath her but she knows it won't end here. It never does.
He rubs circles across her spine, keeping perfect rhythm with the beat of kisses on his skin.
He pulls her closer and their faces are inches apart but he doesn't kiss her. She wants and she prays, but he ghosts his lips across her cheek instead, all while scratching that perfect spot behind her ear she loves so much.
He can play her like a piano and she drowns in the sensations.
The TV is forgotten as their fingers and lips dance over each other's skin. The softness in his eyes makes her remember the day they met, when she was nothing more than a potential pet and they were having coffee together to see if they were compatible.
The playful, teasing nips along his jaw makes him remember the day he knew he was in love with her. He remembers his concern over how it would change their dynamic, but she didn't let him worry long.
This is everything they both want and need, and her trust in him is enough to bring him to his knees.
"Will you stay here like a good kitten?" he whispers with a chaste kiss to her lips.
She nods once and slides off his lap to curl up in the corner of the couch. She knows what's coming.
She can't wait.
But she will.
Patiently.
She wants to be his good kitten.
She stares absently at the television. She's much too distracted by the sound of water running in the master bath.
It calms her and excites her and fills her with anxious anticipation.
She imagines everything, just as she has a thousand times before.
He's sitting on the side of the tub, watching it fill as he adds the lavender bubble bath. He places his finger under the water, checking the temperature. Not too hot for his kitten, but not too cold either.
He knows just how she likes it. Hot enough to wash her day away, but never enough to hurt her.
He would never allow anything to hurt her.
The room fills with the scent he knows so well. This is his heaven. Nothing compares to being able to care for his kitten this way.
He smiles to himself remembering the first time he brought her here.
It was in their contract that he would groom her, but the first night she was still getting used to being in his home.
He would never forget the way her eyes widened and her jaw dropped in a moment so deliciously human and out of character for her role in his home.
He knows his master bath is stunning – along with the rest of his home. But there is something about this room that is even more special.
The large claw foot tub looks it's very best when his kitten slips into it, and the light bounces off the neutral walls and tile, illuminating her skin till it glows.
She's more than his kitten in this room.
She's his angel.
He turns the water off once the tub is full. He makes sure her favorite fluffy towels are on the rack beside the sink and lights the vanilla candles on the vanity.
Everything is just as she likes it.
She's his picture perfect kitten and she deserves this treat.
He could never fully thank her in words for everything she does for him - all that she givesto him.
He's had other pets before but most were looking for something different. He's done traditional d/s as well, hoping to find something he knew he would continue to elude him until he found a pet.
He never expected to come across someone he was so wonderfully compatible with.
Her love and her trust have no boundaries, and no one has ever known him better than she does. She never pushed back against him - never tried to control him. She accepted her role graciously and the connection between them was instant and fiercely strong.
Anything he can do for her would never be enough to show his gratitude.
He fetches the leash from the drawer in the bedroom and slowly descends the stairs, relishing in the feel of the cool leather against his fingers.
When he enters the living room she's curled up in a ball in the corner of the couch, exactly where he left her.
He leans against the banister, watching her for a moment before making his presence known.
She's so beautiful. Her hair curls perfectly to the top of her black corset, reflecting the light from the silver collar that adorns her neck. Collaring her had been one of his proudest moments and seeing it always reminds him how lucky he is to have her.
The black velvet tail she wears is curled around her ankle as if it did so on its own, and her ears rise from her silky hair like a halo. From a distance it's impossible to see the thin plastic band holding them in place.
He smiles as she stares at the television - blissfully unaware that she is being watched.
The soft sound of a black rubber meeting cherry hardwood stirs his kitten from her resting place.
She looks up to see first a flash of metal from the leash she is intimately familiar with and then the even more familiar man she loves.
Every time she looks at him her heart seizes in delicious wonder. Her head spins and she struggles to catch her breath for a brief moment. She wishes the thrill of it could last. It is a high that is only rivaled by the ways he plays her body.
Half his body is cast in firelight and the reflection from his cufflinks casts a prism across the dark floor.
She takes him all in. Polished black shoes, black pants, black shirt, blue tie, slicked back blond hair with that one piece that never stays in place, and eyes deeper than the ocean.
His eyes flicker over her position appreciatively and she nearly shudders under his gaze. Even in her current curled state she is completely submissive to him.
He walks toward her with practiced purpose. They both know what is coming and the air around them is charged and thick and neither would have it any other way.
"Knees, Kitten."
His voice has the edge she loves laced with the devotion she will always cherish.
She moves fluidly from the soft sofa to the hard floor, placing her hands behind her back and lowering her head. It's a move that's as easy as breathing for her.
She relinquishes all control to him and it's pure, unadulterated freedom.
The metal clinks in the quiet room as her leash is attached to her collar. She sees his knees bend and suddenly he's eye level with her, lifting her chin with his finger.
He places a kiss on her forehead and it's light and heavy and soft and hard.
"Up, Kitten"
She stands but keeps her head down as they walk up the stairs. At the top she drops to her knees again before he even tells her to.
She hears his quiet laugh behind her and it makes her smile as she leads him to the master suite and her waiting bath.
"Up," he says once they reach the door to the suite.
"Look at me."
Her eyes lift to his and to most they would be inscrutable, but to the woman who knows his heart like it's her own he is an open book.
The care and dedication that he feels for her rolls off him in waves, and his love for her hangs between them like a heavy fog.
"Such a beautiful, kitten," he says, trailing his knuckles down her jaw. "Are you ready for your bath?"
She nods, meowing softly. He smirks. He loves it when she vocalizes her pleasure - no matter the situation.
When collared she never speaks unless he tells her too, but the soft sounds she does make thrill him.
He leads her to the tub and steps up behind her. He gathers her hair and places it on her shoulder, leaving a feather light kiss on the exposed skin of her neck, above her collar.
She sighs softly when his fingertips ghost over the top of her corset. He unhooks the fabric with agonizing slowness - the anticipation building with every second.
He lets the corset fall to the floor.
He runs his fingers over the base of her tail and smiles when he feels her momentarily stiffen before she regains her control.
Her tail is sacred to her - to both of them. It is the physical manifestation of her devotion to him. It is nearly as important as her collar.
His hand wraps around the velvet and runs all the way down its length and back up again.
He's teasing her and she loves it and hates it.
He unhooks her tail and lets it fall to the floor as she steps out of her panties. Once her ears have been placed on the vanity he turns her around to face him.
His finger trails along her collar and she holds her breath. She feels completely exposed without it. She stares into his eyes and wishes he would kiss her when his fingers deftly undo the clasp on her collar.
She forces herself not to rub the empty space on her neck. He kisses her cheek and pulls her close, knowing how lost she feels in this moment.
Under his loving touch she remembers she is still his - with or without an outward symbol.
He takes her hand and helps her into the tub. She sinks up to her neck in luxurious bubbles and smiles as her master playfully flicks some of them at her.
The glow of the candles and scent of lavender and vanilla fill the room. The hard black lines of her master's clothing offer a delicious contrast to the softness that surrounds her.
Bath time is always the perfect peaceful end to her day. He knows how much it relaxes her and keeps her focused. He doesn't have to tell her that it does the same for him.
That everything about the time they spend together like this is what keeps him going - keeps him energized.
He gathers her hair and ties it back away from her neck, a few copper tendrils escaping. She smiles to herself as he squeezes the lavender soap onto the loofa. His hands blaze a path over her arm, leaving a trail of iridescent bubbles in their wake.
She laughs when he splashes her a second time. No matter how reserved he is in his regular life, alone with her his silly, ridiculous side comes out.
His hands continue to roam her skin, cleaning away the day and wiping away her every care.
He grins when she sighs happily and settles back against the tub. "Such a wonderful kitten," he says. "Is the water warm enough?"
She nods once and closes her eyes, her head resting on the tub, a content smile on her lips. He can't help himself. He kisses them softly. She wants to swat him with the soapy water for surprising her, but there is something she wants more - to spend the night in his room with him, and not in her kennel for misbehaving.
Besides, his kisses are never unwelcome.
He brings the loofa up the side of her neck as he leaves languid loving kisses along her jaw.
"Are you ready to get out now, kitten?" His words whispered against her ear make her shiver despite the warm water.
He helps her stand and welcomes her into the fresh towel in his arms. She falls back against his chest, not caring about how wet she still is or how her damp hair is soaking through his shirt. He says nothing - only continues to dry her as her breathing becomes heavier from the motion of his hands.
Once he is finished and her clothes, collar, and the soft ears and tail that she sleeps in are in place he instructs her to go lie down in her small bed while he cleans up. She smiles up at him and it spreads warmth through his whole body to see how grateful she is for the opportunity to sleep in his room.
He drains the tub, replaces the towel on the rack, and blows out each candle. He takes his time, knowing that the anticipation of his arrival is making his kitten squirm.
He is sure she knows his plan, but her face will never betray her. She knows him too well, but is incredibly adept at acting surprised. She does it for his benefit. He loves to surprise his perfect kitten.
It isn't every night he allows her to sleep in his bed. The rules between them when she is collared are what they are for a reason. But she has been too good to deny this to.
And tonight there's nowhere else he wants her to be.
He walks to the bedroom, the air around his charged with the knowledge of what he will find.
She never disappoints him.
The large, pink bed sits in the corner of the room, next to her bowls. And in the middle she lays, curled around herself, smiling softly at him.
This is his favorite way to see her. She is his in every way like this, and there will never be words enough to thank her for all that she says without ever using any words.
He walks to the closet to change, smiling to himself. He can almost hear her frustrated sigh. She loves to watch him undress.
She pouts from her place in her bed, but doesn't dare move. She wants to see him and it's killing her that she can't. He's testing her. She won't give in. She knows the reward will be better than the temptation.
His bare feet pad quietly on the hardwood floor as he approaches her. She does her best to keep her eyes on the plaid of his pajama pants, not daring to look up until she is told.
He kneels in front of her and lifts her chin till their gazes meet. It's a moment eerily similar to earlier when he prepared her bath. He doesn't say a word - merely kisses the tip of her nose before climbing into the large four poster bed in the middle of the room.
She tries to hide her displeasure, keeping her gaze on the floor. She is ever submissive to him. Even when her heart is hurting.
Just when she thinks the tears she is blinking back will spill over she hears the softest whisper, like a prayer meant for no one but the sinner.
"Kitten?"
She lifts her eyes and he's holding the blanket up for her. Such a simple act, but she feels closer to tears than ever before. This time, though, they are tears of joy. She hasn't disappointed him. He wants her to join him. His eyes are light and dark and soft and heavy and they carry the weight of every word he never needs to say.
He wants her with him. He wants her in his arms.
She rushes into the bed, all thought of staying in character forgotten. He laughs softly at her decidedly human display, but he can't help but love the way she curls around him - so like a cat and so precious to him.
She nuzzles his neck as she molds her body to his, inhaling his scent.
"Stay here with me tonight," he says.
He never needs to ask. There's nowhere else she wants to be – never a second thought.
His hands roam her soft skin, traveling paths more familiar to him than his own mind. She is, in every way, his escape. His thoughts shut down, and he allows himself to float away with her.
Her hand slips behind her to gently rub his thigh. Her silent request hangs in the small space between them, and before she can imagine it he turns her to face him.
They come together easily, as his hands pull her toward his, leaving no inch of space between them. The both need this more than anything. To lose themselves in one another until there is nothing in the entire world but the two of them.
He rolls them so that she is beneath him, and her hair fans out across the pillow, casting brilliant shades of copper in the moonlight that streams through the window.
Her eyes are mischievous, but her smile is serene. She's happy. He makes her happy, and that's all he'll ever need.
Every movement he makes is slow and methodical. There is never any need to rush this. His kitten is a patient creature, and somehow prolonging the inevitable makes it that much sweeter.
He captures her lips with hers, masking her sounds, allowing them both to just feel. She moves her leg to wrap it around his waist and her long, velvet tail falls across his calf.
His pace quickens for a moment with the physical reminder of all that she is to him.
It's no time at all before she comes apart in his arms, but he never lets go.
He never will.
He turns them slowly so that he is on his back and she allows herself to drape across him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Her luxurious kitten ears tickle the skin beneath his own human ones, and he laughs at the stark contrast.
Their breathing evens, but their hearts accelerate with the love that exists between them. He rubs soothing circles on her back, fulfilling promises both spoken and unspoken, bound in writing and sealed in love.
The day she signed her contract with him, he promised to always take care of her. It is the one thing at which he knows he will never fail.
He kisses her temple as her head rests on his shoulder and whispers every promise to her the only way he knows how.
"I love you, Esme."
Happy Valentine's Day, beautiful readers.