Purr Read online

Page 5


  “Lift your legs,” the komtesse said, her words muffled as she began to kiss the eager flesh. “I want access to that lovely bum.”

  Just the agony she would need to thoroughly enjoy this. Giselle raised her knees and let her legs fall open impossibly wide. A tremor caused her to jerk when two fingers slid into her channel and back out again before coating her rosette with slippery cream.

  As lips latched onto her clitoris, one of the fingers worked past her rim and pushed inside. Giselle pinched her own nipples as a second finger joined the first. Katarina’s expert tongue licked and swirled while the fingers pumped in and out of Giselle’s ass. Pleasure and pain vied for prominence and when Giselle pinched harder, pain won out.

  In her head, it was as if the mechanism in a lock turned, releasing her to give in completely to the two warring sensations. Her arousal spiraled and exploded. Everything inside her body tensed as she forced herself to accept all of it—the insidious decadence she knew would leave her in a puddle of self-loathing after this night ended.

  Katarina sat back on her heels. “Strap the harness on me. I’m dying to fuck you.”

  Obediently, Giselle retrieved the harness. Spasms continued to rack her insides as she lubricated the twin phalluses. Katarina positioned herself on her knees and allowed Giselle to insert one of the cocks inside her. Moaning her pleasure, the komtesse held the apparatus in place while Giselle fastened the belts that would hold it firm.

  “That feels good,” the komtesse murmured before sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Let me lie down.”

  “Lie down?” It was easier for Giselle to take the cock while on her hands and knees.

  “Yes, I want you to ride me. I want to watch your face while you fuck my big cock.” She reclined on the pillows and smiled at the sight of the leather phallus standing erect.

  Giselle straddled her and eased onto the cock. This should not feel so good. She should not be so eager to indulge herself. Hands cupped her breasts and coaxed her to move. Leaning forward, Giselle planted her palms on the bed and braced herself as she began to ride the faux phallus. It filled her to capacity, stretching her to the maximum.

  Fingers kneaded her nipples, tugging the invisible tendril linking her breasts to her clitoris. Giselle groaned. Her eyes closed and again, images of the pretty dark-haired assistant flashed in her head.

  In spite of her circumstances, she’d never actually fantasized about another woman, but this one wouldn’t vanish from her mind’s eye. Giselle’s intention was to seduce the woman, which would be a simple feat, given that the attendant showed blatant interest. Then Giselle would entice her to help plan an escape.

  Perhaps her flights of imagination could be attributed to that fact alone. She’d never worked her charms on another in the hopes of manipulating them.

  And yet, all Giselle could think about was the attendant writhing sensuously below her.

  “Faster.” The komtesse’s sharp command broke the spell.

  Giselle opened her eyes and began to grind her hips. She hadn’t been punished severely enough to allow herself to take pleasure from this. Not yet.

  She brushed the komtesse’s hand, indicating she needed to suffer. “Please.”

  Katarina let out a laugh before she tightened her clasp on Giselle’s nipples. The sweet sting elicited a harsh breath from Giselle. She bit her bottom lip, determined to withstand the tantalizing torture. Her hips bucked faster. That almost elusive shift in her brain occurred and the pain twisted into insidious pleasure. Hard spasms caused her cunny to grip the leather phallus as wave after sweet wave rolled through her like a mountain thunderstorm.

  Moments later, she lay under the thick eiderdown coverlet on the komtesse’s bed, dozing as Katarina stroked her hair. “Rest for now, pet. And when you awaken, I’ll have that tight little ass of yours.”

  Chapter Four

  Arabella quickly fell into a routine of readying the kittens for the days their presence was requested in the den and then waiting for them to return. When the kittens were not in service, they were kept separated from the staff and allowed to walk in the gardens, read or play games in one of the parlors—always under the watchful eye of the komtesse’s henchwoman, Gudrun.

  Helga supervised the attendants when their service was not required. As long as the kittens weren’t using the garden, the attendants were permitted to use it or to freely roam certain parts of the villa.

  While the kittens seemed to thoroughly enjoy their free time, most of the attendants complained of boredom. Helga seemed sympathetic, but she never allowed favors that were strictly against the rules.

  At least the attendants had Helga. The kittens were doomed to Gudrun, who oversaw every aspect of their lives outside the den. A stern Prussian, she hailed from thick peasant stock. Standing over six feet tall, she glowered at everyone, arms crossed over her ample bosom, never offering a friendly smile. Her piggish eyes missed nothing and behind closed doors, Gudrun tended to be the butt of many a joke. She held none of the charm of the current fashion of elaborately powdered wigs, voluminous skirts draped over broad whalebone panniers, ribbons and jewel-encrusted slippers. Instead, Gudrun dressed daily in a drab gray frock and wore her thin blonde hair in two tightly plaited braids wound into buns on either side of her head.

  Although Arabella had not interacted with the komtesse’s lackey, she knew the formidable woman would be a barrier to any sort of clandestine affair—especially with Giselle.

  Some part of her had adjusted to the flagrant nudity that had so shocked and aroused her upon arrival. But nothing lessened her desire for the komtesse’s favorite pet. Night after night, Arabella massaged herself to orgasm, biting back Giselle’s name. Every day that the kittens were summoned, Petra launched herself onto Arabella’s table, preventing any further contact between her and the brunette kitten.

  Today, however, Petra hung back. Her bottom lip protruded in a sullen pout.

  “What’s the matter?” Arabella asked.

  “My menses have begun. I will not be allowed to participate.”

  Arabella tried to console Petra but when Giselle came into the room, all coherent thought evaporated.

  Giselle shrugged out of her robe, revealing her voluptuous body, and without so much as an apologetic glance toward the temporarily ousted kitten, she mounted Arabella’s vacant table.

  Petra’s eyes flashed in a display of shock laced with envy. Arabella tried her best not to show her own surprise. Knee-weakening nervousness consumed her as she began to attend her charge.

  Even the scent of the kitten’s naked flesh invoked sinful stirrings between her legs.

  “Return to your chamber, Petra,” Helga ordered as Arabella took up her sponge with trembling hands and began to bathe Giselle’s back.

  Arabella tried to focus on the rivulets of warm water trailing downward over the lush curves but all she could think about was the fantasy of finding ecstasy in this woman’s arms. Her mouth went dry and the back of her neck flamed. Perspiration beaded and trickled between her breasts. Her inner thighs heated and dampness gathered in her channel.

  She’d longed for just this moment and now that it was happening, she couldn’t enjoy it. God, what had turned her into such a blithering bundle of nerves?

  Her fantasies faded when she noticed the faint bruising on Giselle’s backside. “What happened to you?”

  But Arabella immediately regretted asking the question. She suspected she didn’t really want to know.

  Giselle looked at her, her gaze penetrating. “Not to worry. It doesn’t hurt.”

  “But—”

  “I wanted it,” Giselle whispered, her eyes revealing the veracity of her statement. “I enjoy it.”

  Arabella tried to absorb this new layer of her lovely charge. She had considered what it must feel like to accept some of the tantalizing tortures meted out by the komtesse. Doubtless, it was the komtesse herself who’d dealt these bruises. But to delight in such taboo treatment? The desire to k
iss those wounds all better flooded Arabella. She inhaled, trying to stave the edge off her lust.

  It was no use.

  When Arabella began to sponge the flesh between Giselle’s legs, the kitten dropped her back, which raised her buttocks in the most enticing way. Arabella stepped behind for a superior view. Tight, dark curls hugged the plump lips. Pink flesh lay visible, the folds parted to reveal the hint of a glistening aperture that looked as sweet as the most succulent fruit.

  Arabella traced her top lip with the tip of her tongue. A furtive glance told her everyone else paid attention to their own tables. No one would know if…

  She wet the sponge and, as she dragged it across Giselle’s cunny, trailed her fingertip behind in the barest, daring caress that left her insides quivering.

  Giselle pushed back slightly.

  The motion was a gratifying reward that caused Arabella to swell with pride and hope. Oh, to kiss that scrumptious treat! She felt dizzy with need.

  The bath ended all too soon, but Arabella relished every second of massaging oil into the velvety skin and taut muscles beneath her palms. Giselle lay on her belly, the swell of the side of her breast visible. The cleft of her bottom looked extraordinarily tempting and the sensuous way her toes curled when Arabella worked her hands dangerously close to the sensitive flesh there indicated the kitten’s enjoyment.

  “Ears and tails, attendants!” Helga barked. “The komtesse will not be kept waiting.”

  Reluctantly, Arabella ended the massage and wiped the oil off her hands. She retrieved the black ears, tail and mittens. Giselle lifted her gaze as Arabella fastened the ears on her head. The look shot straight to Arabella’s heart and squeezed but she couldn’t force herself to look away.

  Not wanting to attract attention, she slid the sleeves and leggings on, fastening each.

  “Make haste, Arabella,” Helga ordered with a smart snap of her fingers.

  Giselle had the audacity to look back as Arabella coated the smooth wooden dowel with lubricant. “Fingers first—to help me accept the tail,” Giselle whispered and spread her legs slightly.

  Arabella eyed the puckered rosette. What she wouldn’t give to finger that tight hole while bestowing kisses on those succulent folds. She lubricated two fingers and slid one slowly into the warmth of the orifice.

  Giselle shimmied. Her lashes fluttered and her sex tightened under Arabella’s watch. She withdrew the finger then inserted both, sinking them deep into the smooth flesh, holding them there to stretch the hole so her charge could accommodate the plug. A surge of daring compelled her to lightly stroke the pink folds with the knuckles of her free fingers.

  So soft. So fragrant.

  A droplet of liquid beaded and then trickled onto her finger and Arabella’s heart rioted at the thought of Giselle finding pleasure at her touch—even this touch that prepared her for another.

  “Arabella! I’ll not warn you again, girl!” Helga snapped.

  Disappointment flared but Arabella removed her fingers and slid the dowel into place. Giselle shook her bottom bewitchingly. “Oh, that feels so good,” she cooed before climbing down from the table. “Thank you, Arabella.”

  She was the last kitten to exit the room.

  All the other attendants had cleaned their stations and gone to breakfast. Arabella expected a scolding from Helga but instead, she merely glowered and walked away. Arabella released a deep breath. Was her infatuation with the komtesse’s favorite obvious to everyone? Did they know how much she ached to taste Giselle’s lips and skin, her breasts…her sex?

  Did Giselle know?

  * * * * *

  Giselle watched the other kittens pleasure each other. Within reach, one lay on her back, thighs sprawled as another straddled her on hands and knees and devoured her sex.

  Clitoris pounding, Giselle watched, wishing her hands weren’t rendered useless by the damn fur mittens. Her thoughts kept returning to how her body had responded to Arabella’s touch this morning in the preparation room. Giselle hadn’t expected to be so moved, so aroused by the simplest brush of a fingertip against her skin.

  The komtesse’s touch awakened Giselle’s need to be punished for taking pleasure in another woman’s body. It was as if one canceled the other. That was not so with Arabella.

  When Giselle closed her eyes, she envisioned kissing the fresh-faced attendant, of feeling her lips, pliable and soft beneath her own, of tasting her tongue, fondling her breasts and dropping to her knees to sample the mouthwatering flesh between Arabella’s legs.

  Giselle squeezed her thighs together, hoping for relief. Her gaze flicked toward the komtesse, who lounged in her chair lightly flogging one kitten while laving the crotch of another. The sight only caused Giselle’s sex to ache worse. She could resist no longer.

  Need drove her to crawl to the komtesse and brush her face plaintively against the aristocrat’s leg. The komtesse said nothing but drew her skirt open and spread her legs. Giselle latched onto Katarina’s clitoris and sucked. Hope flared that the komtesse would reward her but after a few moments, the komtesse pushed her away and pulled her skirts together.

  Dejected, Giselle sat back on her heels. Had she displeased her mistress? Burning with desire, she brushed her cheek against the komtesse’s shin again. This time, Giselle mewled.

  Katarina flicked the flogger and popped Giselle’s bottom. “Off with you!” But the glint in the komtesse’s eyes revealed she knew the exact effect of her torture on her needy kitten.

  Giselle crawled sulkily back to her rug. Shutting out the sounds of the others moaning and finding release, she lay on her belly and toyed with the tufts of soft fur on her rug. The dowel in her ass caused her cunny to throb with almost painful sexual demand. The fur beneath her felt supremely sensuous on her bare breasts and the skin of her backside smarted where the flogger had smacked it.

  When she noticed the komtesse getting out of her chair to kneel between the legs of a kitten, Giselle seized her chance and slipped out of the room. The festivities wouldn’t last much longer anyway.

  After a quick glance over her shoulder, she bolted and raced down the hallway. When she turned the corner, she slid to a halt upon seeing one of the attendants. Her breath froze—until she realized it was just the attendant she sought.

  “Arabella,” she whispered hotly.

  Arabella stopped and turned. Her lips parted. “What are you doing out of the den? Is it over?”

  Giselle shook her head as she approached slowly. “No.”

  “Then why are you…why are you here?” Her gaze darted into the preparation room.

  “I need you.”

  Arabella’s shocked stare confused Giselle.

  She continued. “I…I’m so aroused. I need—”

  “Get on the table,” Arabella said quickly.

  Giselle didn’t hesitate. She climbed onto the table and got on her hands and knees. The hands that touched the backs of her thighs trembled. She held her breath as fingertips trailed up her legs then melted when one worked its way inside her passage. Juices flooded her channel as the digit slid in and out, igniting sensitive nerve endings.

  Pressure on the dowel in her ass added to the thrill and Giselle gritted her teeth to keep from giving voice to her pleasure. A soft kiss dampened the spot where the flogger had hit. The idea this other woman would risk everything—everything—to please her rose up hard in Giselle’s breast.

  It was humbling. She tensed and felt herself clamp down to milk Arabella’s finger. A strangled, stifled cry caught in her throat. The ecstasy devastated her.

  It also confused her.

  There had been no precursor of punishment. Only this. This remarkable feeling of release selflessly given by another.

  Giselle was still riding the tide of bliss when the fingers abruptly retracted and began to work the plug in her bottom loose. Her eyes snapped open at both the unexpected end to the sweet intrusion—and Helga’s formidable voice.

  “What’s going on here?”

>   “Den time is over. See?” Arabella offered calmly as first one and then two kittens entered the preparation room. Her attention turned to Giselle. “Your worry was for naught. You have not yet begun your menses.”

  Helga eyed them for a moment before taking interest in the entry of the other attendants.

  “Thank you,” Giselle whispered.

  Their gazes locked and held and Giselle felt a strange stirring in her belly she’d never before experienced. She tried not to think about anything except how she would get the attendant alone to convince her to escape as Arabella continued removing the kitten costume.

  Giselle, however, found it very difficult to concentrate when Arabella began to massage her shoulders and back, kneading away the frustration and tension sexual denial had created.

  The attendant avoided her gaze, instead concentrating on the task at hand. But Giselle could see the perspiration beading at the woman’s hairline and the way her teeth worried her bottom lip. A tendril of guilt snaked through Giselle that she had not offered sexual comfort to Arabella.

  They both knew the risks. And although this thing that had just conspired between them had kindled their need to see each other again, fighting it until the perfect time would be imperative.

  * * * * *

  “Bad pussy,” Katarina scolded.

  Giselle sat on her knees, wearing full kitten regalia. She hung her head as the komtesse continued to heap insults on her. “I cannot believe you continued to beg for attention when you clearly saw I was previously engaged.”

  Giselle did not speak. She’d never been summoned to the komtesse’s chambers in her kitten costume before.

  “Go fetch me the paddle.” Katarina pointed toward the chest where she stored her accoutrements.

  On hands and knees, Giselle crawled to the cabinet. Relief washed through her that the komtesse had not found out about her tryst with Arabella. Katarina had orchestrated all this merely to punish Giselle for seeking attention.

  She retrieved the fur-and-leather paddle and carried it back to the komtesse in her teeth.

  Katarina sat on a bench and gestured for Giselle to bend over her lap. Heart thudding, Giselle moved into position. Her stomach tensed as the komtesse took the paddle and caressed her bottom and the backs of her thighs with the fur side.