D: L&L - Part 35 | Narrator: Bad Kitty

It was over. She could feel his soft fur on her skin, and for a moment she smiled. If she didn't open her eyes, she knew, she could keep right on smiling all night. But that wasn't to be the case. Dawn was breaking soon across the golden fields of Munchkinlander corn, and somewhere in the midst of those giant stalks was a new threat, a new enemy, one the odd purple cloud here and there couldn't manage.

Talk of rebellion all you like, little men. See what plagues the Unnamed God visits on you. Call for him. Pray to him. Beg and plead for him to forgive you for your trespasses, but you will go on with your fruitless words until your aim is true and you have found the right...Goddess?.

Glinda, Empress of Oz -- Goddess of Oz? -- took a deep breath again, her smile widening for a moment as she calmed herself, emptied her head, left those thoughts to the far away places. She listened to the quiet of the tiny apartment, so much smaller, cozier than the mighty Emerald Palace. She felt the rise and fall of her chest, the cool morning air wafting in through the high windows and teasing her hot skin with its kiss. Her body responded, and she arched her back, stretching now against the sweet torture of the last several hours.

She reached out her fingers, careful not to move too much and wake the sleeping beast, and felt the soft down of her lover. Just at his waist, she could feel it give way to naked skin, warm and alive like a real man, but vibrating ever so slightly, so satisfied, a rich, easy purr that made the mattress gently tremble, a soothing melody that filled the dark room.

Only hours before, she had found him in her room, caught like an animal in a cage, her satin robe clawed to pieces, a look of profound guilt on his face. Hadn't he been told a hundred times not to enter without permission, and certainly not through the main entrance! Bad kitty! And he was never allowed to enter clothed, certainly not dripping wet with matted fur! Bad, bad kitty! Mistress will have to punish you now. Crawl like the beast you are!

He'd whimpered and stammered, the pathetic imbecile, his head dropping to the floor, begging forgiveness, crying out for mercy and a tender touch. His wet nose had grazed her ankle, his tongue so close to the Ruby Slippers! She'd drawn back in pure disgust, snarling, ordering Turnbuckle from the room if only to bring her The Case.

She'd turned away, furious, horrified, aroused. Furious that he'd violated her sanctuary, that he'd broken numerous rules, that he'd dared try and touch her. Horrified at what she felt when she looked at him, at what she would do to him for his disobedience, at what he would do to her when she was done. Aroused from what was about to happen.

The hidden door off the bedroom had swung open noiselessly before her, and he'd crawled noisily after her. At the end of the narrow hall, a sparsely-furnished room opened up -- a hidden, insulated cavity, a place where things could happen that no one could ever know about; a terrible and beautiful chamber of dreams and screams. She'd stepped up onto the low platform and sat in the exquisitely carved wooden throne, crossing her legs, one Ruby Slipper arrogantly waiting in the empty air. She'd snarled at him and he'd tugged at his clothes, never leaving his place on the floor. When he was naked and shivering, she'd nodded for him to approach, and she'd arched her foot, offering the pointed stiletto heel, which he'd taken immediately into his maw.

Glinda sighed again, remembering every brutal moment of his punishment, feeling her arousal growing again as his screams echoed in her mind, the snap of the whip on his flank, his masochistic pleas reflecting her sadistic demands. Then the moment that she had anticipated came -- the changeover, the dynamic shift when she dropped the whip and walked back down the hallway in disdain, leaving him sobbing, whimpering, growling, snarling, charging after her, fury now in his eyes, fear in hers, his leap, always perfectly timed, propelling her forward, face-down on the foot of the bed, his claws tearing away her dress, dragging across her perfect skin, drawing blood, his hot breath and lusty growl in her ear, then his body driving against her, inside her, taking her breath away, hurtling her into an endless cavern of lust from which there was no escape other than exhaustion and dark dreams.

She felt him stiffen under her fingers, and eyes still closed, she guided him home as the dawn broke across the pinnacle of the Emerald City.

Bad. Bad Kitty. Come to Mommy.