Tales of the Quiet Kitty 1:
Under the Cat’s Paw
Camille Anthony
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2004 by Camille Anthony
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ISBN 1-59596-011-2
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Editor: Sheri Ross Carucci
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Chapter One
The door opened and the sensor controlled walkway winked out beneath her weighted feet. Almost sorry to reach her destination -- she so rarely had a chance to see daylight -- Willa plodded heavily into the interview room, her small ankles locked into a pair of slaver’s cuffs. Head down, neck bowed, she flicked her eyes about in quick, furtive forays, taking in the room’s sparse furnishings: a six foot long cushioned slab and a straight-backed, armless chair. Noting the absence of tweezers, whips, electronic probes and other sadistic devices with a thankful sigh and a renewed sense of hope, she dared to sneak a quick glance at the room’s other occupant, determined to somehow influence him to take her with him. A harsh, swift breath lifted her full breasts and set her covering plumes to fluttering.
Before her stood a grey-skinned bi-pedal Being lounging at ease, his long slender hands resting on the upper horizontal bar of a tall-backed chair. He faced her, his nude body -- tall, slim and muscular -- displaying a total lack of self-consciousness. A thick mop of unruly platinum hair waved in the brush of an unseen -- and unfelt -- breeze, falling over his forehead to obscure his sightless silver eyes. His mouth hung open, allowing a nineteen-centimeter tongue, coated with cilia, to protrude slightly.
She identified the Being as a Jenari. A member of a race powerful enough to stand up to the Corporation, his kind usually did not travel in Corporate Space. Jenari rarely mingled with other races, remaining a mystery rarely seen among the Corporation’s citizenry. Because of this much speculation abounded regarding their peculiar genetic makeup.
She had heard enough about the genetically blind, Medusoid race to know the Jenari’s tongues served as their true ‘eyes’. With their tongues, they ‘tasted’ the air, able to sense their environment more accurately than could most sighted persons.
Currently, the naked alien appeared nonchalant and relaxed. His posture broadcast his sense of control, his power over her in this private chamber, obviously unaware how easily that privacy -- his privacy -- had been breached. The so-called secure interrogation cubicle was anything but, her master having ordered it wired for video and sound, rendering it accessible and easily monitored by him.
The Jenari cocked his head toward her now, giving the impression of eyeing her askance, locating her so accurately, she almost doubted his sightlessness.
“Sso…you are Willa. Your masster tellss me he hass had you trained ass a SSexengineer…capable of keeping a Dinyar-classs Wavesship and a medium number of crew in tip-top orgassmic condition.”
The male’s sibilant words slid from his lips. He framed his sentences oddly, their cadence broken and rendered choppy by the repeated extrusion of his tongue. The cilia laden appendage darted out between every several words, sipping the air in her direction.
“You look much too fragile for ssuch sstrenuous work. A female of your delicassy sshould be cossseted and cared for…your cunt well conditioned with frequent usse…your ssweet cream churned with a long thick sspoon…”
Willa felt the Jenari’s thick voice, his dulcet tones, flowing over her, calming her jangling nerves. Her pussy, long denied any easing, dewed in response to the pictures his words painted. A strong compulsion beat at her, making her want nothing so much as to loll at his feet in adoration.
Strange, how clear his words are, given that he speaks using that crowded appendage… Oh, Drasarka -- not so strange when he is attempting to mind-thrall me!
“Sparkle!”
With a negating shake of her head and an inward surge of disgust at the endless power-games of males, she threw up her mind blocks, easily winning free of the subliminal influence. Angered beyond thinking, she verbally blasted the alien, incensed he would try such a trick on her. “Your mind speak will not work on me, Jenari.”
She tossed her head, meeting his renewed mental challenge with a sneer. “I am a Sprite. I cannot be compelled by your voice, nor can your honeyed words thrall me.”
The alien’s wide mouth spread in a practised movement that aped a smile. “You are a fressh ssassy baggage! I can ssee why your masster ssayss you invite beatingss, sslave!” His lips closed in a thin line, concealing his tongue.
She cringed, damning her mouth and her loss of self-control. By Sparkle! When would she learn to keep her comments to herself? What would she do if her unruly anger lost her this chance of escape?
It had taken too long to convince her master she truly wished to serve his plans by spying for him. She had spent the long, grueling years learning about ship propulsion units, drive flux capacitors and other diverse technical entities for just such a chance as this: escape. During that time, she’d swallowed her gorge and taken the physical abuse and so-called sexual cruelties Lord Avron had doled out, never letting on how his milder tortures ignited her carnal hungers. She’d only slipped up once, but that lapse had proven costly.
Avron had somehow learned she needed his release -- any partner’s release -- inside her, needed the life-giving fluid of come washing the walls of her sex in order to flourish and grow a healthy set of pinions and fronds. Since that time, he’d kept her at the minimum edge of physical and psionic sexual starvation, taking pleasure in gauging what lengths she would go to, the degradations she would endure in order to receive a few drops of come.
Years of maneuvering, of posturing and subterfuge had paid off. Lately, unrest and political furor had escalated within the Corporation. Due to financial setbacks and personal miscalculations, Lord Avron had lost respect among his peers. The other Corporation Lords, like canker-phish -- more deadly than the great blalor-sharks of Trofu that devoured their own young -- hovered about, sniffing around his weakness, waiting for his failure. Her master had been forced to regroup, jettisoning some of his plans for advancement just to maintain his present lofty position among the powerful despots.
Unwilling to go outside his private power base to obtain help and whatever information he sought, it had been easy to convince him of her willingness to win the position as Sexengineer aboard the Quiet Kitty Waveship and garner information from its crew to transmit back to him. Why he had become obsessed with this vessel, she neither knew nor cared. All that concerned her lately was finding her scattered people. Sparkle called for her and its other children, its summons an imperative she could not ignore. Time was fast running out for her. If she messed this interview up, she knew Avron would kill her.
Belly roiling with resentment, she averted her face to hide her grimace and abased herself before the alien -- probably her last
chance at freedom. “I offer apologies to you, Gentle-Being. I beg you to take no offence.”
“Be at easse, Ssprite. I tesst all who sseek to sserve aboard my vesssel. No one sso eassily controlled iss welcomed aboard my Quiet Kitty. Let uss begin anew…”
One long arm extended palm up, in the manner of greeting peculiar to her slavers, the alien stepped from behind the chair, unerringly approaching Willa. “I am Bevel, masster of the Quiet Kitty Waveship.”
She choked, eyes riveted in desperate immediate hunger to his newly revealed sex. Obviously, her information loop had seriously failed to include some pertinent data…
Standing before her, hands extended, awaiting her acknowledgement of his greeting, the alien was an impressive sight. Or rather, the impressive sight was his more than ten inch penis swaying lazily between his grey muscular thighs. A darker grey than the rest of his skin, the Medusoid cock undulated back and forth, its serpent-like moves hypnotic, compelling, drawing her fascinated gaze.
Forgetful of her lowly status, she openly ogled the alien’s sex, mouth opened in disbelief, never having encountered a species with a sentient penis. As she watched, the writhing thing coiled back upon itself, rearing like a decobra preparing to strike. The bulbous head pointed directly toward her nest fronds, bobbing slowly, its single lidless eye fixating on her feather-covered mound as if it saw beyond her plumage to the dripping sex concealed behind her lilac and fuchsia fronds.
Like his tongue, the shaft of the alien’s cock was coated with squirming cilia -- hundreds of them, differing in length from less than a quarter inch to over an inch long, each one writhing in its own, solitary rhythm. They even covered the thick sac of his seeds, the only bare spot being the smooth cowled head covering that snapped into an expanded decobra-like configuration.
The Jenari’s organ intrigued her. She fantasized, with greedy imagination, how the unique appendage would feel crawling through her starved channel, writhing inside her, touching and stroking every hidden crease and fold of her juicing sex. She shuddered as a wicked throbbing beat low in her belly, a quivering pulse of lust thrummed within. Clenching her thighs and her teeth, more needy than she could ever recall being, she moaned. Heat rushed beneath her cheeks and her mouths -- upper and nether -- watered, aching emptily. Her swelling clit emerged from behind its sparse covering of nest fronds, rearing its tiny head in arousal.
Oh, Sparkle, I hunger! She wriggled edgily, rubbing her legs together tightly, applying needed pressure against her pleasure point.
Her current master -- she sincerely hoped the sadistic Corporation bastard rotted in Drasarka -- kept her right on the border of psychic starvation. He knew enough about her people to keep her emotionally and physically depleted, ensuring she lacked the ability to re-grow her molted plumage. He beat her regularly…past her sensory enjoyment level, for his own pleasure, never hers. Beat her badly, glorying in her pain, her killing hunger, forcing her to spend sadly depleted energy stores healing her injuries.
She fought her arousal, her need to slip a finger down and caress the knot at the apex of her thighs. Although she ached to attack the alien, to force him through an orgasm, she resisted, struggling for calm. Knowing her Master watched, suspecting he hid, secreted somewhere, beating his cock while he waited for her to foul up. She refused to give him a thrill…or any reason to cancel this interview early.
“I am Willa Sprite. Slave to the Corporation. How may I pleasure you?”
“Assume a ssplayed possition upon yonder couch. I wissh to tasste your pussy.”
Chapter Two
Willa shivered, frozen in want and wariness, vacillating between running to the couch and running out the door. Her master had forbidden her to find pleasure with any other.
“My master has forbidden me to climax. If I do, I shall be punished.”
The Jenari frowned. “What do I care about your punisshment, sslave? Do ass you are told!”
What punishment would he exact for even the act of contemplating the disobedience of his will? How much would her loved ones pay if she complied with the alien’s request?
Oh, Sparkle! She did not care! For a chance at pleasure such as his tongue promised, she would pay anything.
A heated dollop of cream oozed from between her swollen labia as Willa eased her shaking body down onto the sloping cushioned slab, knees parted wide with a leg positioned on either side of the torture device.
Trembling, she lay flat, head resting lower than her body, the cool material a shock against her warm back. Raising her hands above her head, she stretched until the automatic cuffs engaged, locking about her frail wrists. Hands secured, she scooted her bottom toward the bottom of the couch, straining for the foot restraints. Obviously, beings of a taller stature had designed the coupling bench. Finally, the foot shackles locked about her bulky slave cuffs and she sighed, gladly giving up all control over the current situation.
Lithe and supple, her body reclined against the firm surface, legs drawn tightly apart, a connoisseur’s banquet of delight. Between her legs, her pussy gaped, silken folds drawn apart by the extreme position of her hips and thighs. The moist violet flesh quivered as a wash of cool air swirled about her heated sex.
A true sexual submissive as were all Sprites, Willa struggled to maintain her silence, fought to keep her lips closed over the burning need to beg for the Jenari’s cock in her starving sex. Honey spilled, dewing her thighs as she shifted on the cold leather, pulling against the restraints to cant her hips up, presenting her cunt for his inspection. He had said he wanted to taste her…she wanted him to do that and more, needed it right now with an intemperate hunger that could ruin all her plans.
A rich chuckle rippled from the alien. Bending low, he carefully scrutinized her mound, running his long, slim fingers through the feather fronds of her sex. “Ssoft! Sso ssoft and ssilky, Willa Ssprite. Iss your little pussy ass ssoft, ass ssilky?”
“Taste and see,” she offered, pumping her hips toward the hand busy exploring her intimate secrets.
Face hardening with irritation, the alien drew his hand back and straightened. His tongue retreated into his mouth and Willa moaned, wondering frantically what she had said to anger the Jenari. She had all ready learned that when this Jenari closed his mouth, rejecting all stimuli, it signified disfavor.
“Please, my lord, do not be angry with this Sprite. I meant no disrespect…”
“You ordered me!” the Jenari spat out, tongue flicking agitatedly, sightless eyes snapping.
Head fronds shifting and sliding against the slick leather, she shook her head, no. Eyes wide, heart thrumming, she trembled in her restraints. “Sir, I but issued an invitation.” Even as the frantic words left her mouth, she understood the inappropriateness of her answer. She gasped, pulse racing as she realized her actions had earned her a punishment.
“Forgive this lowly slave! Please punish this unworthy one.” She spoke the learned sentences by rote, conditioned by years of compliance. Pussy creaming, she begged, fearful he would accept her pleas, fearful he would not. What did she know of this alien? How might he punish her? How far would he take this opportunity? Farther than she could bear…?
“You are dissplayed in the perfect possition for me to sspank your little pussy, sslave.”
Fear, unmixed with the usual arousal, doused her passion. Her master had whipped her pussy just once and she had never forgotten the agony he inflicted. Because Sprites were natural submissives, their bodies responded to most pain with pleasure, yet, perhaps because their sexual organs were their primary nutrient intake organs and the most sensitive points on their body, abuse to that area could easily incapacitate them. They could literally starve to death if healing didn’t take place soon enough. Who would stop this Jenari if he went too far?
Though dread swirled in the pit of her belly, she managed not to entreat the Jenari for mercy. If it appeased him to beat the vulnerable flesh between her thighs, she would strive to endure it without climaxing. She would endure
anything that took her away from the sadistic Corporate fuck she called master.
“I deserve punishment, Sir. I am sorry I displeased you.”
“Very pretty, sslave. Ssince you have regained your mannerss, I sshall go lightly on you …”
Palming the remote control to the bench, the alien raised the bottom of the couch and widened the base until he had her thighs spread so far apart she feared the tendons would snap. A second button lowered the top section until her head hung at cock level.
Stepping close, the Jenari stood above her, his cock within mouth’s reach, her sex raised and immobilized for his convenience. In this position, her legs splayed wide, pussy on prominent display, he could choose to either spank or taste at his whim. He seemed to have the same thought, for he finger-combed her meager fronds, running his hands up and down her thighs, smoothing her glistening cream into her supple skin.
“Before your deplorable actionss, I had meant to eat thiss lussciouss tidbit, giving uss both a delightssome time. Now, I sshall not give you pleassure. Insstead, you will pleassure us. You musst take my brother into your mouth and bring uss to orgassm.” He patted her shrinking flesh, his fingers curling into the soft folds to stroke her clitoris. Juice bubbled up and over, spilling along her swollen pussy lips. “I will not sstop sspanking thiss little jewel until we come in your mouth.” Placing one hand behind his back, he rested the other against her dripping sex. “Begin.”
Hands shackled, Willa could not reach for him and her eyes flashed a thank you when he stepped closer, bringing his writhing cock close to her open mouth. However, before her lips could enclose him, the cock jerked up and away, swaying out of reach of her straining mouth, seeming to taunt her limited efforts.
Crack!
A heavy hand descended on her pussy, a sharp harbinger of the pain to come. Long, multi-jointed fingers curled into her opening, testing her clit, dipping inside to probe her wetness, mixing pleasure and pain in a dizzying rush of sensations. Not giving her the chance to decide which dominated: the pleasure or the pain, he struck again. Fire danced in the sensitive flesh of her cunt…lips, clit, opening…all coming alive with agonizing intentness under the power of his blows.
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