Cat Scratch Fever

by Sophie Mouette

‘You don’t seem very contrite.’

  Katherine seemed unsure what to do. On the one hand, she knew how the game was played. On the other hand, after the sort of day she’d probably had, she must desperately need the release that only pain seemed to offer her. Valerie could almost see Katherine’s mind weighing the options, trying to figure out whether she’d get what she needed faster by behaving or misbehaving.

  Valerie would never let on that she’d get it equally fast either way. Oh, there were plans for later, delicious plans for pain and pleasure that built slowly and sensually to a crescendo. But Katherine wasn’t the only one who was itching for some stress release. It had been a long day at her end too. She’d been working on some of her local contacts, trying to get them to donate auction items, and each ‘no’ made her want to spit nails – or spank someone.

  While Katherine still hesitated, she grabbed her and pushed her towards a low leather chair. ‘Take off your clothes and bend over.’

  ‘What? We’re in the living room!’ Now there was a hint of real rebellion in Katherine’s voice. Katherine was rather modest for a lady with her inclinations.

  Valerie lowered her voice to a deep, menacing purr. ‘Yes, we are, my dear. And I just told you to take your clothes off. I’m waiting. And you know how impatient I am.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Do it!’

  Valerie wouldn’t have believed Katherine’s eyes could get any wider, but they did. She seemed to have trouble with her buttons and the buckle of her belt.

  Valerie didn’t bother to hide her smile when Katherine stood naked before her. Clothes were purely functional for Katherine; she wore jeans or khaki shorts and T-shirts when she could get away with being casual and basic trouser suits when something more formal was required. And she tended to buy everything a little large. The result was that seeing her naked was always astonishing.

  She had a body like a 50s pinup – generous soft breasts, a tiny waist flaring to rather wide hips, and a round spankable bottom. Her legs were a little short in proportion and a little full in the thigh, but well muscled. Skin of warm ivory was sprinkled liberally with golden-brown freckles. Not a fashionable look right now, but that just confirmed Valerie’s opinion that most people weren’t too bright.

  Valerie noted that the red curls on her mons had been trimmed to a neat strip, the lips apparently shaved. Good – that had been phrased as a request and Katherine had been perceptive enough (or eager enough for a possible reward) to follow it as if it were an order. It was hard to tell, but it looked as though she was getting pouty from excitement, despite her protests.

  For a moment longer than she should have, Katherine stood as if frozen under Valerie’s gaze. Her eyes never left Valerie’s, but they seemed unfocused. Her breathing was fast and shallow.

  Again, prey.

  Then she seemed to remember what her orders were, and she turned and bent over the chair.

  Valerie decided not to complain about that bit of hesitation. She’d feel like a hypocrite, as she’d been enjoying the view far too much.

  This view, though, was even better, accenting the ample heart-shaped ass, the curve of the spine that showed Katherine’s submission. Her legs were slightly parted, allowing Valerie to see how slick she was starting to get.

  Excellent. This worked nicely into Valerie’s continuing quest to see just how many times, and how many ways, she could make Katherine come without direct genital contact.

  Spanking usually worked. And that beautiful ass was looking much too pale.

  Smack! Keeping the appearance of punishment for Katherine’s earlier rebellion, she started in without any warm-up, giving a good hard slap right off.

  Katherine let out a shriek, but the way she rolled her hips told Valerie that she’d enjoyed it despite, or maybe because of, the initial shock. She let her hand linger a bit on the warm resilient skin, however, gauging the reaction a little longer before continuing, breathing in Katherine’s smell. Sunscreen, a light perfume of green apples and vanilla, the musk of an aroused woman. And something warm and wild, like sun-warmed fur – even if Katherine had spent most of her day trapped at her desk, she always seemed to carry a hint of the cats with her.

  Katherine’s breath was already a bit more ragged, a combination of excitement and working through the sudden, sharp pain. But she didn’t appear to be in any distress, judging from her Mona Lisa smile.

  The next blows fell in a flurry, not giving Katherine time to process them or to catch her breath. Valerie wasn’t holding back. Her own palm was pink and stinging, but she didn’t care. Katherine’s reddened ass, her noises that blended ecstasy and pain, the way she’d flinch away and then arch back, all conspired to arouse her as well. She’d meant to give ten and stop, a tease to both of them, but the reactions were just too exquisite. She kept going, sometimes staccato, sometimes with slow deliberateness. Her own sex seemed to pulse with the blows, or maybe with Katherine’s reactions to them. She wondered if they were throbbing in rhythm.

  Moisture was trickling down Katherine’s thighs now. Her pussy lips were swollen, visibly twitching. Clearly, she was ready to come from just a little more attention. She must have needed this session even more than Valerie had suspected, as she didn’t usually react so fast.

  Valerie stopped. She stroked her hands along Katherine’s trembling body. Although the room was air-conditioned to a pleasant temperature, the redhead was lightly glazed in sweat, releasing more of that delicious combination of civilised cologne and wild feline. Her eyes, too, looked glazed.

  ‘Still with me?’ Valerie whispered.

  A nod showed that Katherine still understood simple English sentences.

  ‘Good. I’m going to give you five more and on the fifth I want you to come. Do you understand?’

  Another small nod.

  Katherine made it to three.

  Then she threw her head up and howled. No pain in there now, just ecstasy. Her hips twitched and bucked. Then she slumped bonelessly forwards, sprawling over the arm of the chair in a position only particularly relaxed cats could normally achieve.

  ‘Good girl,’ Valerie murmured, kneeling down beside the chair and gathering Katherine into her arms as best she could. ‘That’s my good little pain slut. Is that better now?’

  Katherine looked up. Her grey eyes weren’t very focused, but it was post-orgasmic haze now. Pain always relaxed her. ‘Better? It’s so much better I don’t even remember what was wrong before!’ she exclaimed. Then she began to giggle.

  Another job well done. Now they’d have dinner, a little wine, and then they’d start again.

  She wondered how Katherine would react when she learnt she’d be eating dinner naked on the deck.

  * * *

  It was late when Katherine left, so late it could equally well be called early. Valerie saw her to her car, a courteous hostess, then stood and watched as she headed down the long driveway and on to the winding back road. With all the road’s twists and turns, the car’s lights were soon lost to sight, but still Valerie lingered in the cool night air. The moon was high over the desert, just past half-full, and she was too charged to sit still, let alone sleep.

  The rest of the night had continued as beautifully as it started. The naked dinner under the evening sky had put Katherine into a strange frame of mind, receptive and malleable, perfect for an experiment with blindfolding, restraints, velvet scraps and leather ‘vampire gloves’ ornamented with small pointed metal studs. Valerie had finished off with the elk-hide flogger, leaving Katherine drained but happy.

  Now it was closer to dawn than dusk and Valerie’s blood was still racing. In the whole time they’d been together, she’d remained fully clothed, fully in control – excited but untouched.

  Now, under the cool light of the moon, she reached down and touched herself through the fabric of her red silk jersey slip dress. She was wet, as wet as Katherine had got, yet curiously detached. It happened that way sometimes when she was playing the untouchable-
goddess style of domme. To put herself into the right frame of mind, she cast her mind back to images from the night: Katherine’s plump ass with her hand prints on it; Katherine shuddering to climax; Katherine shyly sitting at the dining table on the deck, nude and blushing and trying so hard to resist the urge to cover herself.

  That was better. The self-control was starting to loosen. She stroked herself, not raising her skirt, but circling her clit through the soft fabric, letting the texture be another stimulation. Her pelvis felt heavy, weighted with blood.

  She imagined pushing Katherine further, using the braided cat to slice at that fair fine skin, letting the little knots at the end of the falls leave bites like bee stings. Caning her. Oh yeah, she’d probably love that stinging, cutting sensation, the fiery line of pain it left behind.

  Caning her across the breasts.

  It was building.

  She let her mind stray to Danny. He was staying with an understanding friend tonight, someone who knew enough about his lifestyle not to ask too many questions. She wondered if he was sleeping well in the chastity belt; she didn’t have him wear it often.

  Thinking of that – not so much the image of his imprisoned cock and balls but the look on his face, both stricken and blissful, when she’d given the instructions for their night apart – pushed her to release. She came silently, clutching the front-deck railing with her free hand until her knuckles were sore.

  Once her breathing calmed, she went inside. In her office, she sat down at her writing desk and set heavy pale-green monogrammed notepaper and a Mont Blanc fountain pen before her. A glance through her address book unearthed Richard Enoch’s address, not the business one he’d given to all the trustees, but a private one she’d had for several years now and had never used.

  ‘Richard,’ she wrote, ‘several times in the past you’ve let me know that you would like to explore certain mutual interests with me. It was never the right time in the past, but if you’re still interested, it seems the time may be right for me.

  ‘There will, of course, be conditions. I always establish conditions. And you will be expected to obey them without question.

  ‘But that’s what you want, isn’t it?’

  Richard wasn’t exactly her type – she liked them younger, prettier and more artsy. But, ever since they’d run into each other at a high-end fetish event in LA a few years back, he’d been saying he’d do anything for a chance to play with her.

  She’d see if ‘anything’ included getting off his designer-clad ass and doing something concrete to help Katherine and SCCS – like writing a cheque.

  A very large cheque.

  6

  Felicia’s mouth went dry at the sight of Gabe standing there nearly naked and absolutely edible.

  He grinned, the dimple flashing in his cheek. ‘Just couldn’t stay away from me, could you?’

  He stepped back and gestured for her to enter, and she came through the doorway before she even thought about what she was doing.

  The air conditioning in the hotel, as well as her proximity to his nearly naked, terribly enticing body, had brought her nipples to an almost painful peak. They pressed insistently against the silk of her top, and his gaze was drawn to them.

  If she wasn’t mistaken, she spotted a stirring beneath his towel. His own nipples peeked from his chest hair, and she imagined sucking on them, finding how sensitive they were, hearing him growl with pleasure.

  Beyond him was his hotel room. She could hear the low murmur of the TV. From the entrance alcove, she really couldn’t see much of the room itself – the only thing that her brain processed was that there was a bed, and she wanted to push him down on it, rip the towel away, climb on top of him and rub the wetness of her cleft along his hard cock, professionalism be damned.

  Then the phone in her hand vibrated and hummed, reminding her why she’d come upstairs to his room. Reminding her of the message she’d seen, and the fact that Gabriel Sullivan was still, potentially, the enemy.

  ‘You dropped this in my car,’ she said, thrusting the phone at him.

  He glanced briefly at the display, and regret flitted across his chiselled features. ‘I have to take this.’

  The spell was broken. She knew damn well when she was being dismissed. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, and fled.

  * * *

  ‘Hey, Tom,’ Gabe said into the phone. ‘Hold on a sec.’

  He peered out the door. Felicia stood at the elevator, one leg jiggling. She pressed the down button three times in rapid succession.

  Damn, but he felt the same way. Restless, like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. It wasn’t travelling that did it; one hotel room was the same as any other, and he was used to that.

  No, it was Felicia DuBois who’d messed him up. He could still smell the spicy floral scent that she wore. He could still see in his mind’s eye the way her nipples distended the soft fabric of her blouse, and he could still feel the urge to run the silk over her bare skin, to gather it between his fingers and pinch her nipples through it, causing her to arch her back like a cat.

  ‘Gabe? You still there?’

  He stuck the hands-free plug into the phone and tucked the earbud in his ear. ‘I’m still here.’

  ‘Did I catch you at a bad time?’

  ‘I was about to take a shower.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Tom, his boss, was also a friend, and could usually read him pretty well, which meant he knew from Gabe’s tone not to ask if the shower plans had been solo ones. ‘Sorry about that. I waited to catch you after dinner.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Gabe insisted. He flopped into the easy chair in the lounge area of the suite. The chair was covered in that weird, semi-annoying hotel furniture fabric, but it was better than the bedspread. ‘We agreed to talk when I’d be away from the office.’ There were some things that shouldn’t be overheard.

  ‘How are the problems at the Sanctuary?’ Tom asked.

  Gabe blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. The problem was a sexy brunette with an admirable passion for her work and legs that went up to there – and possibly beyond there. Wuf. ‘I only got here yesterday, Tom. There’s not a whole lot to report yet.’

  ‘But time is of the essence,’ Tom said, stating the obvious. ‘The fundraiser is next Saturday.’

  ‘Well, how does a false fire alarm strike you?’

  ‘As something that could easily be construed as an accident.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Gabe said. ‘Give me a couple of days, OK? Oh, but I do have one possible lead; apparently, there’s a kid volunteering who’s had some brushes with the law. I’ll see how easily he can be turned to the Dark Side.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Tom said. Gabe could imagine his boss giving the thumbs-up signal. ‘How’s the Sanctuary otherwise?’

  ‘Efficiently run, with a smart, dedicated staff. It’s a bit run-down at the edges, but the animals are in fine shape so far as I’ve seen.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Tom said again. ‘Well, we’ll just wait and see how it holds up to your scrutiny.’

  ‘Roger that.’ Gabe hit the disconnect button, tossed the phone on the desk and headed for that much-needed shower.

  He’d never been much of a one for cold showers, but after the heat of the desert day he settled for lukewarm. His soapy hands brushed against his cock, still semihard, and he groaned. Damn Felicia DuBois and her floral perfume and killer legs and perky nipples that begged to be nibbled like ripe raspberries.

  It made no sense. Oh, she was gorgeous, sure, but so were many women, and they didn’t affect him the same way. The stacked blonde he’d seen coming out of Felicia’s office yesterday had made him look twice, but that was it. A glance, a second glance of added appreciation, and then he was done.

  But Felicia showed up at his door and all he could think about is what she would taste like and how her hot wet sex would feel as she posted up and down on him. He’d play with her nipples, twisting them between his fingers, and she’d throw her head back an
d scream, clenching against him and sending him over the edge with her.

  He’d stroked his cock to full hardness now, the soap allowing him to squeeze as he ran his hand from root to tip. A flick of the wrist at the top, his fingers skidding against the sensitive base of the crown. God, it felt so good. It would feel better if it were Felicia’s hand coaxing him to explode.

  Random images flashed through his mind.

  Felicia on her knees before him, masturbating him, licking her lips, eyes bright as she anticipated his come.

  Felicia on her hands and knees as he ploughed into her from behind, her bottom reddened from a brief sharp spanking that had aroused both of them.

  Felicia in lingerie: lace, satin, leather; scarlet, snowy white, dangerous black; high, high heels to accentuate those legs.

  Felicia beneath him, legs wrapped around his neck as he drove into her, writhing and crying out his name as she shuddered through another orgasm.

  His balls tightened, prepared to release their load. His cock swelled in his hand, purple and taut.

  The mental pictures looped around to the beginning, with Felicia in front of him. He groaned as strands of slippery semen shot out and decorated her eager face. His hand flashed up and down as he coaxed every last bit out, until he was gasping from too much sensation and had to pull away.

  Then he’d gather her up and gently wash her face clean with the shower nozzle and kiss her…

  Gabe’s legs wobbled and he leant against the cool tiles, his hand cupping his spent balls.

  What the hell had she done to him?

  * * *

  Boneless from sleepiness and heat (the office air conditioning needed an upgrade, but office repairs were on the absolute bottom of the list), Katherine leant away from her desk and stretched.

  Partway through the stretch, she froze in position, arms above her head. Then she settled back into a slightly different position, a sly grin taking over her face. Stretching had meant shifting in her chair. And, even though the desk chair was padded, she felt a sweet ache in her butt.