His Captive Kitten

by Measha Stone

  He held up a finger to still her, then reached down between her legs and pulled the fur from beneath her and dragged it upward, brushing her pussy with the soft texture and draping it over her mons.

  “There, now you’re perfect.” He stroked the tail and flattened his hand on her belly. “Are you warm enough now?” he asked, spreading his fingers wide and rubbing her stomach.

  “Yes, thank you,” she nodded.

  He tweaked her nipple. “I think I’d prefer you not talk. Maybe a soft meow would suffice.”

  He couldn’t be serious. It only took a quick glance at his face to know he wasn’t joking. His left eyebrow raised, and his gaze traveled up the length of her torso until he stared into her eyes.

  No joking.

  Dead serious.

  Meow.

  Like the kitten she played.

  Like the name on her tag.

  Seconds ticked by, dragging out her indecision.

  His hand stopped rubbing her belly. She clenched her fists at her sides and closed her eyes.

  “Meow,” she whispered.

  “Hmm, did I hear something?” His fingers drummed on her belly.

  She swallowed hard.

  “Meow.” She let the sound carry from her lips.

  “That’s my good girl,” He patted her belly and moved his hand to her breasts. “You have beautiful tits,” he remarked, taking his time with each. Fondling and plucking at her nipples. “Everything about you is beautiful,” he said almost as an afterthought. She studied his expression after hearing him. Maybe he didn’t want her to hear him; his eyes didn’t meet hers.

  Dangerous talk. Giving compliments like that would only make the inevitable more difficult. She turned away from him to stare at the fire.

  The crackling of the wood made for a soothing background. The flames waved at her, welcoming her to bring the heat, to allow herself to feel the warmth.

  “Tell me something, kitten. Tell me something you’ve never told anyone before,” he commanded with a gentle voice. She turned back to him. “You can use your voice,” he allowed.

  “I-I don’t know what you want,” she admitted. The list of things she’d never told anyone stretched for miles. No one deserved that much trust.

  “Anything. Something small, where’d you learn to shoot?” he asked, stroking the back of his fingers down her torso. He ran them from her neck to her belly button, through the valley between her breasts. A gentle touch, almost soothing if his eyes weren’t piercing into her with such desire, such interest.

  At least he’d asked an easy question.

  “An old boyfriend in high school. His father was a big gun man. He hunted and collected.” One of the advantages of having a mom doped out of her mind often, she could get away with more than the average teen.

  “The boyfriend or the dad taught you?” He stopped rubbing her. Maybe answering him wouldn’t get her the good girl treatment she wanted. A straitlaced guy like him wouldn’t like what she had to say. “Answer me, kitten. I can’t punish you now for something you did ten years ago.”

  “The boyfriend.” She smiled up at him. He said he wouldn’t punish her, but that didn’t stop his brow from furrowing and his jaw from clenching. “He was very safe. Took me out to the forest preserves. Busse woods. You know the place?”

  His lips pinched together.

  “It was ten years ago,” she laughed.

  “This asshole took you to a highly populated forest preserve to teach you how to shoot? Were you using the runners as target practice? Or maybe the kids riding their bikes through the trails?”

  Her belly shook as she chuckled, but quickly clamped down when she realized how upset he was getting.

  “I’m sorry.” She cleared her throat and propped herself up on her elbows. “You’re so straitlaced.”

  “And you’re impulsive and reckless,” he chastised her with a shake of his head.

  “It was a long time ago. He took me deep into the woods, there wasn’t anyone else around. I swear he was as safe as he could be. We were seventeen, John, it’s not like we could have gone to a shooting range.”

  “And his father?”

  “Never knew we took the guns out.”

  “Guns?” His face reddened with her final admission.

  “Yes, he had one and I did. After he took me a few times, he let me keep one of his father’s rifles. Similar to yours.” She moved back down on the cushion and closed her eyes, folding her hands over her belly. “I’m not going to answer any more questions if you’re going to get so mad. You promised good girl treatment if I was good, and I’ve been good.” She opened one eye to gauge his reaction to the little cheek she gave him.

  His jaw relaxed and slowly the corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile. “True enough. One last question. Why did he teach you? What made him do that? Just for fun?”

  John didn’t write traffic tickets for a living. He was fishing for answers.

  “He just figured I’d need protection one day. Living in the city with my mom not always home, or if she was not always sober.” It would have to be enough of an answer.

  His eyes narrowed in on her, like he sized up her response. It lacked enough weight for his approval. Maybe he would let it go.

  “There’s more to this, but I said we’d relax tonight.” He continued stroking her, but moved lower, brushing the tail away. “And I know how to make you relax.”

  Just as she opened her mouth to give a cheeky response, his fingers traced around her clit. Sucking in a breath at the immediate current of heat running up her body, she froze.

  One finger, his middle, the thickest finger, slid easily through her pussy lips, already coated with her arousal, to her entrance. “I’m going to finger fuck you until you come.” For such an erotic activity he sounded awfully threatening.

  Before she could react, he thrust two fingers into her passageway. Not nearly as full as when his cock buried inside of her, but enough so she rolled her eyes back and dug her fingers in the carpeting.

  While his fingers began to penetrate her and thrust hard, his free hand wrapped over her face, covering her mouth and nose.

  Her eyes flew open, searching him out.

  A serene expression greeted her. “Tap my fingers if you need me to stop,” he assured her and put more pressure on her nose, closing off all air.

  Panic rose in her chest. His fingers thrust harder, the heel of his hand rubbing her clit with each thrust.

  She needed to breathe. Air. Fuck, his fingers felt good. Her lungs started to burn, her eyes teared.

  Too much. Too much at one time.

  His hand lifted, and she took in a deep breath.

  “Such a good girl. Now are you close, can you come for me?” He ground his palm into her clit, pushing harder into her passage. Her knees fell to the sides, spreading her legs wider for him.

  “Can I have your cock? Please.” She swallowed hard.

  His hand reappeared. She tried to turn away, but again he closed off all air.

  “After you come,” he promised her.

  Harder he thrust, closer to the edge she tumbled.

  He lifted his hand halfway, giving her a gulp of air before closing it off again.

  “Come for me, kitten, come for me.”

  As though the last stroke of his fingers held a bit of magic, her body exploded. Her back arched. She screamed her release beneath his hand. He cupped his palm, letting her get air while she rode the waves of her orgasm.

  Once it settled, once the colors stopped dancing before her eyes, she realized he was off the couch, between her legs.

  His jeans were gone, tossed somewhere in the living room. She didn’t care, she only wanted him inside of her. Filling her.

  “Please.” She reached for him.

  In one swift push, his cock filled her.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, kissing her hard. He reached down and pulled her left leg up, draping it over his elbow as he began to plow into her.

  “Fu
ck.” She mirrored his sounds. “Yes, fuck. Yes.” She pushed her right foot against the floor, lifting her hips up to meet each thrust.

  He kissed her cheeks, her chin, her mouth, all the while fucking her harder and harder, inching them off of the cushion. She gripped his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles of his body tense and move with each new thrust.

  “Oh, god!” she yelled and threw her head back while her body unleashed another orgasm, the ripples of pleasure intense and unrelenting as he continued to have his way.

  “Yes, come. Fuck!” He pumped hard into her once, twice, three times then stilled. He groaned with his orgasm. His eyes closed, lips pursed together. All the muscles of his chest and shoulders tensed.

  When all went silent, the wood crackling in the fireplace the only sound in the room, he opened his eyes and smiled down at her.

  “You’re god damn beautiful when you give over to your sub side. When you play the perfect little kitten for me and obey.” He wiped the hair away from her forehead.

  “You still think humiliating me is cute?” She tried to laugh, but heaven help her, she didn’t have the energy. Not after having been torn apart and put back together like that.

  “Oh, honey. That wasn’t humiliation.” He kissed her, the stubble from his five o’clock shadow brushed against her cheek. “But we’re getting close.”

  He slid from her body, reaching toward the couch and grabbing his shirt. She hadn’t seen it there. She had only noticed the half-naked man in the firelight when she’d come into the room.

  He used the shirt to cleanse her. “Rest here for a minute, then let’s get you to the bathroom and take out the plug. I’ll show you how to clean it so next time you can take care of it.”

  He sat beside her, stroking her face, just watching her. She could easily slip off to sleep with the warmth from the fire, the comfort of his touch. But she needed to get up. He was only letting her rest a moment. She slid her legs closed and turned to her side to gaze up at him.

  He watched her with care. Not like a lover who had had his fun and wanted to go. Not like an impatient dom who’d had his way and now wanted to fall asleep. No. Not John. John took care of her.

  He cared.

  This was becoming a problem.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Watched phones don’t ring.” John patted Julie’s shoulder, walking past her in the living room. She sat, as she had for the past three hours, on the couch staring at the phone on the coffee table.

  “Why hasn’t she called?” Julie flung herself back against the couch and slapped the cushions on either side of her.

  “Maybe she’s not awake yet, or maybe she hasn’t gotten to the phone. She said she’d call, she will. My guess is she’ll need that card turned back on pretty quick.” John sank into the armchair and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. He’d called in to work already, giving an excuse of a family emergency. Hopefully Grover wouldn’t contact him to find out what was going on. Lying didn’t suit him, and if he talked with his commander nothing but lies would be told.

  It still didn’t make sense why his commander had called him in the first place looking for Julie. A witness not giving a statement was a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t illegal. As far as he could tell, Julie wasn’t suspect for anything other than being a witness. Which didn’t sit right with him either. He knew she had nothing to do with the incident, but to an outsider, someone looking at the situation with absolutely no background information should in fact suspect her to have some level of involvement.

  “Or maybe something terrible has happened to her because I turned off the card and she can’t make the call.” Julie dug her hands into her hair and held her head. Waiting really didn’t bring out her best colors, but nothing could be done about it.

  John scrolled through his phone. “Relax, kitten. She’ll call.”

  “You keep saying that!” Julie accused, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on them.

  “And you keep worrying,” John pointed out.

  The phone rang. Before the first ringtone finished, Julie swiped it off the table and answered.

  “Mom?”

  John moved to the couch, sitting next to her and tapping the table. They had agreed she’d keep the call on speaker.

  “Mom. Hold on.” She shot John an aggravated look and clicked the phone to speaker, placing it on the coffee table. “Okay, Mom.”

  “Julie. My card’s not working. I need it to work.”

  No preamble. No apology for having disappeared on her, just a demand for money. John placed a hand on her knee, expecting her to be upset by her mom’s treatment.

  He and his sister hadn’t had a perfect upbringing, but neither of their parents ever distanced themselves to such a point. His mom still asked him if he was eating his damn veggies every time they talked.

  Julie didn’t give any indication she heard the impatient and demanding tone in the woman’s crackling speech. Obviously the woman was a heavy cigarette smoker from the sound of her voice.

  “Mom, where are you? I haven’t been able to get a hold of you in weeks.” Julie leaned over the phone.

  “I’m with some friends. I’m fine, but I need that card.”

  “Mom, I need to see you. Can we meet up today?” Julie gave John a quick glance. Too late to ask for approval, but they could make it happen.

  “No. And you have to stop looking for me. I’ll call you when I’m ready to see you. But for now, I need that damn card!”

  Julie took an unsteady breath. “No. Not until I see you. I went to an apartment I thought you were staying at, Mom. It—it blew up. The police said it was a cook house?”

  A long sigh came through the speaker. This woman didn’t give a shit about Julie.

  “You shouldn’t have done that.” A bout of coughing came through.

  “Mom.”

  “Julie. I need money. And you need to stop looking for me. It’s not safe, and I don’t need you involved. Got it?”

  Julie jerked back from the phone, her brow furrowing. She picked up the phone and held it closer to her ear. “Mom, where are you?”

  “Dammit. I just said—”

  “Who are you with?”

  “Julie. The card.”

  Julie swallowed hard, like she was gearing up for a fight, a long, painful fight. “No.”

  “I need it.”

  “No, what you need is help. You need to get clean. You need to tell me where the hell you are, and who you’re with. Because whoever you’re hanging with these days nearly got me killed. They were in my apartment, Mom. With a gun, waiting for me. How’d they get my address?”

  “I don’t know. You shouldn’t have gone looking. You’re an adult. Like I told you. You have your life and I have mine.”

  “Then you should have no trouble getting your own money from now on.” Julie’s voice cracked with the words. Her knee tensed beneath John’s hand. This was hurting her. Pushing her mother away, it tore her up inside, but he wouldn’t disagree with it. Maybe the distance would help get whatever mess was waiting for them back home to clear up sooner.

  “Julie.” A softer voice showed up now. “I just need a little to get through. I have a job, really I do, but I need a little for… work clothes and stuff.”

  “Work clothes?” Julie closed her eyes. Her mother couldn’t really believe Julie would fall for that.

  “Yeah. Once I get this job done, then I’ll have my own accounts, my own money.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? You’re helping cook the shit now?” Julie scooted up to the edge of the coach, holding the phone at her mouth.

  “Julie. I just—you don’t understand. I’m almost set up, I just need—”

  “Where are you?” Julie’s fingertips holding the phone turned white.

  A horn blared in the background. Someone yelled.

  “I have to go. Turn on the card. Please, Julie. Please.” The stern, disassociated tone disappeared, panic ruled Julie’s mother now. “
I’ll explain, I promise. I just—please, Julie. Turn it on and he’ll let me call you again tomorrow.”

  “Who? Who will let you call?” Julie leaned closer to the phone, urging her mother.

  “Tomorrow, Julie. Have it turned on by tomorrow!”

  “Enough, we got it.” A new voice popped in.

  “Mom!” Julie yelled into the phone, rising to her feet.

  The call dropped.

  “Dammit!” Julie threw the phone on the couch beside John and stomped across the room. “Now what? And who the fuck was that?” She dragged her hands through her hair and looked up at the ceiling. If she was praying for an answer or patience, she would be disappointed. Those things weren’t going to be coming from heaven.

  John picked up the phone and stashed it in his free pocket.

  “Now, we figure out what to do next. If you turn the card back on, she’ll use it to keep doing what she’s doing. Maybe she’ll call tomorrow and will be able to tell you more. Or, she won’t. But I do know one thing. She’s afraid of what will happen if she doesn’t have the money.” And it had nothing to do with getting her next hit—he would bet his paycheck on it.

  “She’s in danger. I can tell. She’s never been so cold before. Like she didn’t want to seem like she cared about me.”

  “If she’s with the people I think she’s with, that’s probably true.” He would give the woman the benefit of the doubt. Julie knew her better, and although he heard the distance in her mother’s voice, he would follow Julie’s lead on it. “She said she told you to live your own life, is that right?”

  “What? I don’t know. She’s scared.” Julie rested her head against John’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her, even though it seemed to him she didn’t to be held. Maybe she thought being comforted made her weak. It didn’t matter. If she needed him to be her rock, he would be her rock. If she needed an ass whipping, he’d do that too.

  “You’re scared too,” he said, running his hand up and down her back.

  “I think we should turn it back on. I can lower the limit. Make it only a thousand. That will at least assure us she’ll have to try to call me back again. Right?”