Mommy's Little Kitten - Ch. 02

Light moved differently in the living room now. The gold rectangles from earlier had stretched into long amber bands that crawled across the hardwood, reaching toward the far wall. The mockingbird had gone quiet. The house ticked and settled around them, all old wood and warm air, and Amy Walsh woke to fingers in her hair.

Not petting. Threading. Slow, deliberate passes through platinum strands, nails dragging lightly across her scalp in patterns that had no logic except pleasure. Amy's brain came back in pieces. Warmth first. Then weight, the solid reality of the thigh beneath her cheek. Then texture, nylon and skin and the soft give of muscle underneath. Then sound, her own purr, already rolling, a low motor that had apparently never shut off.

She nuzzled deeper into Diana's lap. Her bell gave a tiny chime.

"There's my sleepy kitten." Diana's voice floated down from somewhere above, unhurried, honey and smoke. "Good nap, baby?"

Amy stretched. Her spine lengthened and curved and the tail plug shifted inside her, a snug fullness she'd forgotten about in sleep and now remembered all at once, and her toes curled against the sofa cushion. She pressed her face deeper into Diana's thigh, turned her mouth against the warm nylon, and the purr climbed in her chest.

"Purr... the best nap. Purr purr."

Diana's fingers found the spot behind Amy's left ear. Scratched there, light and precise, and Amy's whole body went soft, a puddle of girl and warmth and white fur accessories.

"Good." Diana's hand paused. Settled on the back of Amy's neck, just above the leather collar. Her thumb traced the edge of it, back and forth across the buckle. "Because Mommy needs something from her kitten now. Something special."

Amy's eyes opened. The living room swam into focus, all warm tones and long shadows, the coffee table with Diana's keys still on it, the pencil skirt that Diana had draped over the armchair when she'd sat down hours ago. Wait. That was still on. Amy blinked. Diana's legs were crossed beneath her, the charcoal fabric of the skirt pulled taut across her thighs.

Diana uncrossed her legs. She shifted forward on the sofa, just enough to create space, and her hands went to her waist. The small metal clasp at the side of the pencil skirt. Click. Then the zipper, a soft metallic whisper that went down and down, and Diana lifted her hips and the fabric slid.

"Sit up, kitten. Watch."

Amy obeyed. She pushed herself upright on the sofa, legs folded under her, the tail curving behind her. The collar's bell swung and rang once, a bright note in the quiet room. She watched Diana stand.

The skirt pooled at Diana's feet. She stepped out of it, one heel, then the other, and Amy's mouth went dry.

Dark stockings. Sheer black, the kind with seams running up the back, clipped to a garter belt that sat low on Diana's hips. Black lace, thin straps pulling the stocking tops taut against her thighs. And between those thighs. Nothing.

No knickers.

Diana had been sitting in her living room for hours with her youngest daughter curled naked in her lap and she had not been wearing knickers. Amy stared. The strip of dark hair between Diana's legs was neatly trimmed, a narrow line that pointed down toward the soft seam of her pussy, and even from the sofa Amy could see the glisten. Wetness on the insides of Diana's thighs, caught in the warm light, a faint sheen that told Amy everything she needed to know about how Diana had spent those hours of petting and waiting.

"You see that, baby?" Diana's fingers went to her blouse. Silk, cream coloured, the same one she'd worn to work. She popped the top button. Then the second. Her green eyes never left Amy's face. "Mommy's been wet since she walked in that door and found her little kitten on all fours. Since I saw those pretty ears and that cute little tail and those perky tits hanging down while you crawled across my floor with your wet, dripping, slutty little pussy on display for anyone to see."

Third button. Fourth. The blouse parted over a black lace bra that matched the garter belt, and Amy could see the swell of Diana's breasts above the cups, could see the way they rose and fell with each breath, full and heavy and straining against the lace.

"Mommy has been aching, kitten. Sitting here with you in my lap, feeling you purr against my leg, smelling you, feeling how warm you are." Fifth button. Sixth. The blouse fell open. Diana shrugged it off her shoulders and let it drop. Her stomach was flat, toned, a faint line of muscle definition running from her ribs to her hips. The gold pendant she wore, a small sun on a delicate chain, caught the light between her collarbones.

"And kittens need to learn how to take care of their owners."

She reached behind her back. Unclasped the bra. The straps went slack and the cups fell away and Diana's breasts spilled free. DD. Natural. Heavy enough to settle against her chest with a weight that Amy could feel in her own hands, phantom grip, imagined squeeze. Dark pink nipples, already stiff, the areolae puckered and tight. The gold pendant swung between them.

Amy's mouth watered. An actual, physical flood of saliva beneath her tongue. She swallowed. The sound was audible.

Diana smiled. That smile. Slow and warm and predatory and knowing. She sat back down on the sofa, now wearing only the stockings, the garter belt, and the pendant. She crossed her legs. The motion made the muscles in her thighs flex, and Amy watched a thin strand of wetness stretch between them before breaking.

"Now." Diana settled against the cushions, arms spread along the back of the sofa. A queen on a throne. "Kittens lick, baby. They don't kiss. They don't suck. Kittens clean their owners with their tongues. Small, quick, gentle licks." She paused. Let the words land. "The way a cat drinks milk from a bowl. Do you understand?"

Amy was already sliding off the sofa. Her knees found the floor between Diana's legs, the hardwood cool against her skin, and she looked up. The angle was devastating. Diana above her, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, green eyes burning down, breasts hanging full and gorgeous, the gold sun pendant dangling, and below it all those parted thighs and the glistening evidence of hours of arousal.

"Purr... yes, Mommy." Her voice was a whisper built on a vibration. "Kitten licks."

"Good girl." Diana uncrossed her legs. Let them fall open, slow, a curtain parting on a stage. She planted her stocking feet on the floor, knees wide, and the motion opened her pussy for Amy's eyes. Flushed pink, swollen, slick, a darker shade of rose at the center where the wetness gathered, and Amy could see the small pearl of Diana's clit already peeking from beneath its hood.

Amy stared. She'd seen porn. She'd watched videos on her laptop with her headphones in and her door locked and her hand between her legs, and none of it compared to this. To the reality of her mother's cunt six inches from her face, wet and beautiful and waiting for her tongue.

"Start at Mommy's thigh." Diana's voice dropped into a register that was pure instruction, warm but firm, the voice of a woman accustomed to being obeyed. "Work your way up. Take your time. Mommy is going to teach you how she likes it."

Amy extended her tongue. Just the tip. Pink and pointed and trembling. She leaned forward and placed it against the inside of Diana's left knee, just above the stocking top where lace gave way to bare skin. The skin was warm. Smooth. Faintly salty.

She licked. A single, slow stroke upward, maybe three inches of skin, and Diana's thigh twitched under her mouth.

"Good. Again. Lighter. Just the tip, kitten. Barely there."

Amy licked again. Softer this time, her tongue barely grazing, a ghost of contact that left a faint wet trail on Diana's inner thigh. She licked a third time, higher, and a fourth, her tongue tracing the soft inner landscape of Diana's leg, and with each stroke the skin grew warmer, softer, the muscle underneath less defined and more giving.

"That's it, baby. Just like that." Diana's hand found the top of Amy's head, settling between the kitten ears. Not pushing. Resting. A warm weight that grounded them both. "You're a natural, kitten. Look at you. Licking your way up Mommy's thigh like you were born to do it."

Amy purred against the skin. The vibration traveled through Diana's thigh and Diana's breath hitched, a tiny catch that Amy filed away.

"You were born for this, weren't you, baby?"

"Purr... born to lick Mommy. Purr purr."

The words hummed against Diana's skin and Diana's fingers curled in Amy's hair, tightening, then releasing, a pulse of grip that sent electricity down Amy's spine to pool hot and low in her belly.

"Such a slutty little kitten. Higher now. Follow the crease." Diana shifted her hips forward on the sofa, opening wider. "Where Mommy's thigh meets Mommy's pussy. Lick right along that line, baby. Slowly."

Amy traced the crease with her tongue. The terrain changed under her. Skin gave way to heat, to a muskier flavour that bloomed across her taste buds, rich and dark and earthy. Diana's scent filled her nostrils, heavy and intimate, nothing like Black Orchid, nothing like any perfume, this was biology, this was want, this was the smell of a woman who'd been wet for hours and was finished waiting.

Amy's own pussy clenched. A deep, hollow throb. She squeezed her thighs together and her clit pulsed against the pressure, already swollen, already desperate, and she hadn't been touched.

"You can smell Mommy, can't you." Not a question. Diana looked down at Amy's face pressed into the juncture of her thigh, blue eyes enormous, pupils blown black, freckled cheeks flushed pink. "That's what Mommy smells like when she's desperate, kitten. When she's been thinking about her slutty little daughter on all fours for hours. When she's been sitting here getting wetter and wetter with your naked body in her lap and your purring against her leg and your little collar jingling every time you shifted in your sleep."

Diana paused. Her voice went lower, rawer.

"That's the smell of a woman who needs her kitten's tongue, baby. Breathe it in."

Amy pressed her nose directly against the join of Diana's thigh and pussy. The heat was extraordinary. She inhaled, deep, filling her lungs, and the scent went through her like a drug, her vision blurring at the edges, the purr in her chest climbing to something ragged and needy.

"Now lick, kitten." Diana's fingers tightened in Amy's hair. Guided, gentle but firm, pressing her face forward the last inch. "Small. Quick. Gentle. Start at the bottom and work up."

Amy's tongue extended. She pressed the flat of it against the lowest point of Diana's slit, where the wetness had gathered thickest, and drew upward. A single, delicate, kitten stroke through warm, slick folds.

Diana's hips shifted on the sofa.

Amy licked again. Same path, slightly firmer. The taste flooded her mouth. Salt and musk and something sweeter underneath, something that coated her tongue and made her salivate more, made her want to push deeper, lick harder, bury her face and drink.

Diana exhaled. A long, controlled breath that trembled at the edges.

Amy found her rhythm. Quick, light, repetitive licks, her tongue moving the way a cat laps water, the tip curling, scooping, flicking through the slick heat of Diana's pussy. She licked between the outer lips, plump and swollen, traced the delicate ridges of the inner lips, thinner and wetter, silk against her tongue. Each stroke mapped new territory. Each taste pulled her deeper into something primal and consuming and right.

"Oh, baby." Diana's voice dropped into something throatier. Her hand cupped the back of Amy's skull, fingers woven through platinum hair, and her other hand gripped the sofa cushion. "That tongue. That pretty little kitten tongue."

Amy licked faster. The purr vibrated against Diana's flesh.

"You are... god." Diana's head tipped back. Her breasts heaved. The pendant swung. "Nobody taught you this. This is instinct, isn't it? This is what you are. A little pussy licking kitten. Made to kneel between Mommy's legs and eat."

Amy moaned into the wet heat. The sound came out muffled and desperate, and the vibration made Diana's thighs press inward, bracketing Amy's head, squeezing once before falling open again.

"Oh FUCK." Diana's hips rolled forward. "Baby. That purr. Do that again."

Amy purred harder. Pressed her mouth flush against Diana's pussy and let the vibration roll out of her, deep and constant, rumbling against swollen, sensitive flesh.

"Purr against Mommy's clit." Diana's voice had lost its smoothness. Something raw underneath now, something hungry. "Find it with your tongue first. Higher. Higher."

Amy licked upward. Past the slick, parted folds, past the point where inner lips met, up to the small, firm nub at the crest. She circled it with the tip of her tongue. Tentative. Exploratory.

Diana's spine curved up off the sofa. Her stomach hollowed. Her fingers yanked Amy's hair, an involuntary pull that stung and thrilled in equal measure.

"YES. Right there, kitten. Oh god."

Amy circled again. Lighter. Then firmer. Testing. Learning.

"Gentle circles. Just like that. Oh, Amy." Diana said her name the way some people pray. Low and reverent and full of need. "Baby, your tongue is perfect. Mommy's little kitten tongue on Mommy's clit, this is..."

She trailed off. Her thighs were trembling now, fine vibrations that Amy could feel against her cheeks.

"This is what I've been thinking about." Diana's voice reformed, rougher, more ragged. "Every time I watched you leave for college. Every time I thought about you alone in that dorm room. Wondering if you were touching yourself. Wondering if you were thinking about me while you did it."

Amy's tongue circled. Pressed. Circled. She found the angle that made Diana's breath fracture, a specific pressure on the left side of the clit, just under the hood, and she stayed there, working it.

"And you were, weren't you, baby?" Diana looked down. Green eyes glassy, pupils huge, cheeks flushed. She watched her youngest daughter's tongue work between her legs. "You were touching your slutty little pussy and thinking about Mommy."

Amy pulled back just enough to speak. Her chin was wet. Her lips were wet. Thin strands of Diana's arousal connected her mouth to Diana's pussy, glistening in the amber light.

"Purr... every night, Mommy." Her voice was wrecked. Small and raw and trembling. "Every single night. Touching my kitty and thinking about you. Purr."

Diana's hand fisted in Amy's hair. Pulled her face back down. Not gentle anymore. Hungry.

"Don't stop licking to talk, kitten." The command was absolute. "Nod if you understand."

Amy nodded. Her chin bumped against Diana's pussy and Diana grunted, a rough, guttural sound that was so far from her usual composure that it sent a spike of heat through Amy's entire body.

She went back to work. Her tongue circling Diana's clit, faster now, more confident. She'd found the map. She knew the terrain. The left side, just under the hood, firm pressure in tight circles, then a wide flat stroke across the top, then back to the circles. Over and over.

Diana's breathing fell apart. Ragged pants through parted lips, her chest heaving, those gorgeous breasts bouncing with each exhale. Her eyes stayed open, stayed fixed on Amy's face between her thighs, watching her kitten eat her pussy with an intensity that bordered on deranged.

"Oh baby." Breathless now. Wrecked. "Oh, kitten. You're eating Mommy's pussy like a girl who has been starving."

Amy was starving. She understood that now. Two years of crawling through this house in secret, two years of pressing her face into Diana's pillow when Diana was at work and breathing in her scent and touching herself and imagining, always imagining, and now reality was on her tongue, thick and wet and alive, and she couldn't get enough. She licked wider, broader strokes, her whole mouth open against Diana's cunt, tongue sweeping from the entrance up through the folds to the clit and back down, sloppy and greedy and desperate.

"Have you been crawling around Mommy's house for two years dreaming about this?" Diana's voice was climbing. Higher, tighter, the words tumbling faster. "About getting your face between Mommy's thighs and licking like a good little pet? Because Mommy has been dreaming about it too, baby. Since Anna told me. Since I saw the order for the little ears and the little tail and I thought..."

Her hand tightened in Amy's hair. Pain. Good pain.

"My youngest. My sweet, quiet, shy little Amy. She wants to be my kitten. She wants to be owned."

Diana's hips rocked forward, grinding against Amy's face.

"And I sat in my office and got so wet I had to change my underwear, kitten. I sat there at my desk with my thighs pressed together thinking about you collared and on all fours and calling me Mommy, and I soaked through my panties like a teenager. That's what you do to me."

Amy moaned. The sound buzzed against Diana's clit, a deeper vibration than the purr, rawer, and Diana's reaction was immediate. Her hips bucked. Her thighs clamped. Her hand shoved Amy's face harder against her cunt, smearing wetness across Amy's cheeks, her nose, her forehead, marking her, claiming her.

"Lower, baby." Diana's composure was gone. No trace of the senior partner, the controlled woman who never raised her voice. This was Diana stripped bare, panting, grinding, using her daughter's face. "Put your tongue inside Mommy. Push it in."

Amy dropped her mouth lower. Found the opening, hot and clenching, and pushed her tongue inside. The muscles of Diana's pussy gripped her immediately, warm and tight and slick, and Diana made a sound that Amy had never heard from another human being. A guttural, broken groan that came from somewhere deep in her chest.

"Oh FUCK. Amy."

Amy curled her tongue inside her mother. Explored. The texture was different here, ridged and velvety, the walls pulsing around her in rhythmic squeezes. She licked internally, pressing against the front wall, and Diana's thighs jerked.

"My daughter's tongue inside Mommy's pussy." Diana's voice was a wreck. Cracked and raw and reverent. "That is so filthy. That is the filthiest, most beautiful... don't you dare stop."

Amy didn't stop. She fucked her tongue in and out, slow, deep thrusts punctuated by swirling strokes inside, tasting the thicker, muskier arousal that coated her tongue from the source. Diana was clenching around her in waves, a slow rhythm that matched the rocking of her hips, and Amy could feel the orgasm building in the tension of Diana's thighs, in the pitch of her breathing, in the way her fingers had gone white knuckled in Amy's hair.

"Back to my clit now, kitten." Urgent. "Fast. Flick it with the tip."

Amy withdrew her tongue from inside Diana and dragged it upward, flat and firm, through the soaked folds, and when she reached the clit she switched to the tip. Quick, light flicks. Rapid fire. The motion her tongue made when she lapped water from her kitten bowl, the same curl and snap, but now against the swollen pearl of her mother's clit.

Diana's thighs started to shake. Not the fine trembling from before. Full body tremors that ran from her hips to her knees, her muscles jumping under the skin, the stocking fabric rippling with each spasm.

"That's it. That's it, baby. Just like that. Oh god. Just like that."

Amy flicked. Faster. Her jaw ached. Her tongue burned. She didn't care. Nothing existed outside of this, outside of the taste and the heat and the sound of Diana falling apart above her.

"Oh fuck." Diana's voice climbed into a register Amy had never heard. High and tight and desperate. "Oh fuck, kitten, I'm close. Mommy's close, baby."

Amy looked up through her lashes. Diana's face was transformed. Mouth open, eyes wild, skin flushed from her cheeks to her chest, and she was looking back at Amy, their eyes locked, and the intimacy of it was staggering, devastating, the most naked either of them had ever been.

"Don't stop. Keep licking. Keep your tongue right there." Each word was a gasp. "Mommy is going to cum on her kitten's face. Mommy is going to cum in her baby girl's mouth."

Amy flicked harder. Purred against the clit between flicks, a staccato buzz that made Diana's whole body jolt.

"Are you ready, kitten? Are you ready to taste Mommy's cum?"

Amy couldn't nod. Couldn't pull away. She purred her answer, a long, deep, rolling vibration directly against the most sensitive spot on her mother's body, and the sound Diana made in response was barely human.

"Oh god oh FUCK oh baby oh kitten oh AMY..."

Diana came.

Her thighs clamped around Amy's head. Hard. Amy's ears went muffled, her world reduced to pressure and heat and the pussy convulsing against her mouth. Diana's hips left the sofa, her whole body a drawn bowstring, every muscle in her stomach standing in sharp relief. Her hands fisted in Amy's hair with a force that brought tears, dragging Amy's face tight, tighter, flush against her pulsing cunt.

A sound tore from Diana. Not a moan. Not a scream. Something between and beyond both, raw and throaty and triumphant, filling the living room, bouncing off the hardwood and the tall windows and the high ceilings. Her body shook. Her stomach clenched in visible waves. Her pussy contracted against Amy's mouth in a rhythm that Amy could feel in her teeth, in her jaw, in her skull.

Amy held her tongue flat against Diana's clit. Held it there and purred.

The vibration sent Diana into a second peak. Her cry pitched higher, sharper, a sound like something breaking open, and the gush of wetness that flooded Amy's mouth was hotter and thicker than anything that had come before. Sweet and musky and alive.

Amy swallowed. Licked. Swallowed. Licked. Her throat worked, her tongue worked, cleaning her mother the way Diana had taught her, small quick kitten strokes through the aftershocks. Diana's pussy kept twitching against her mouth, smaller contractions that squeezed and released, squeezed and released, each one accompanied by a soft, broken sound from somewhere above.

"Ah... ah... oh, baby... oh fuck... oh..."

Amy lapped at the wetness. Gathered it on her tongue, let it pool in her mouth, swallowed the warm salt of it. She licked the inner thighs where Diana's cum had run in thin rivulets down toward the stocking tops. She licked the crease of each thigh, the outer lips, the inner lips, every slick surface she could reach, cleaning, worshipping, her purr a constant buzz that drew tiny aftershock twitches from Diana's spent body.

Diana's grip loosened. Her fingers uncurled from Amy's hair, stiff and cramped, and she let her thighs fall open. Her body slumped against the sofa cushions. Her chest heaved. The pendant lay crooked between her breasts, stuck to sweat dampened skin. Her dark hair was a mess, strands plastered to her temples and neck. She looked wrecked. Gorgeous and wrecked.

She looked down.

Amy knelt between her legs. Face soaked. Chin dripping. A string of Diana's cum connecting her lower lip to Diana's pussy, glinting in the fading amber light. Her cheeks were flushed, her freckles standing out sharp against the pink, and the wetness smeared across her skin caught the light and shone. Her blue eyes were enormous, glazed, drunk on it. The kitten ears were crooked. The collar bell hung still.

She was the most beautiful thing Diana had ever seen.

Diana reached down. Cupped Amy's cheek with one hand. Her thumb traced across the freckled skin, smearing her own wetness in a slow arc, painting her daughter's face.

"That..." Diana swallowed. Her voice was sandpaper. "... was the best head Mommy has ever received. From anyone. Ever."

Amy nuzzled into the palm. The purr climbed.

"And it was from my twenty year old kitten daughter." Diana's thumb traced Amy's lower lip, swollen and wet. Pressed inside, just the tip, and Amy closed her mouth around it and sucked. Diana's eyelids fluttered. "On her first try. Baby. You were built for this pussy."

Amy released Diana's thumb. Rubbed her cheek against Diana's hand, the way a cat does, scent marking, claiming.

"Purr purr... Mommy tastes so good." Her voice was a ruined thing, hoarse from the purring and the moaning and the licking, but it glowed. Radiated. She was incandescent. "Purr. Can kitten have more? Can kitten lick Mommy again?"

Diana laughed. Low and warm and still breathless. She slid her hands under Amy's arms and pulled, hauling her up from the floor onto the sofa, onto her lap. Amy went limp and cooperative, a ragdoll, and Diana arranged her. Legs across Diana's thighs, head against Diana's shoulder, bare back against bare breasts, the tail plug pressing between them as Amy curled into her.

"Greedy little slut kitten." Diana kissed Amy's temple. Her ear. The spot just behind her ear where the kitten ear headband met her scalp. "We have all night, baby. Mommy's going to sit on your face before bed."

Amy shivered. Her whole body flushed hot and her nipples peaked against the cooling air of the living room and she pressed herself deeper into Diana's embrace, craving skin, craving warmth, craving the solid reality of this woman who had just been trembling and cumming and calling her name.

"But first," Diana murmured against Amy's hair, "Mommy needs to take care of her pet."

Diana's right hand slid down Amy's stomach. Across the soft curve of her belly, past her navel, over the narrow strip of platinum blonde fuzz between her hipbones. Lower. Her fingers found the join of Amy's thighs and pressed, and Amy's legs fell open like they'd been waiting for the command.

Diana cupped Amy's pussy with her whole hand. Warm and firm and claiming.

Amy was drenched. Not wet. Drenched. The kind of wet that had nothing to do with arousal building over minutes and everything to do with arousal building over hours, over days, over two years of want compressed into a single afternoon. Diana's fingers slid through the slick, parting Amy's lips, and the sound it made was obscene. A wet, thick noise that filled the quiet room.

"Soaked." Diana's mouth was right against Amy's ear. Her voice was recovering, the silk returning, the control layering back over the rawness. "My kitten is dripping from eating Mommy's pussy."

Her middle finger traced a lazy line through Amy's folds. Up one side. Down the other. Slow. Deliberate.

"This wet little cunt has been making a mess all day, hasn't it?" Diana's finger circled Amy's entrance. Pressed. Didn't push in. Just held there, warm and firm, while Amy's hips tried to buck forward. "All day on your hands and knees, crawling through my house, that pretty tail wagging, your pussy dripping onto my floors."

Amy whimpered. Her hips moved in tiny circles, trying to chase Diana's finger, and Diana moved with her, keeping the contact light, teasing, the pad of her finger skating through wetness but never entering, never pressing where Amy needed it.

"And now you've just had your face between Mommy's legs." Diana's voice was pure sin. "You've just had your tongue inside me. You swallowed my cum. And you're even wetter than before."

Her finger slid up. Found Amy's clit. Pressed against it. Didn't move.

Amy's breath stopped.

"You're a mess, kitten." Diana whispered it. Her lips brushed Amy's earlobe. "A pretty, slutty, dripping mess."

Her finger moved. A single circle around Amy's clit. One rotation. Slow and firm and perfect.

Amy's spine curved upward. Her bell jingled, bright and ridiculous in the heated room. A mewl escaped her throat, thin and high and desperate, the sound a cat makes when it's been cornered and has nowhere to go.

Diana took her finger away.

Amy almost sobbed.

"Mmm." Diana examined her own hand, holding it up in the dying light. Her fingers glistened, wet from knuckle to tip. She spread them apart and thin strings of Amy's arousal stretched between them, catching the light. "Look at this, baby. Look how wet your little pussy is."

Amy looked. Her eyes were glazed. Her mouth hung open. The purr in her chest sputtered and caught like an engine misfiring.

Diana brought her hand to her own mouth. Slipped her middle finger between her red lips. Sucked it clean, slow, her green eyes locked on Amy's blue ones. She pulled the finger out with a soft pop.

"Mmm. My kitten tastes sweet." She smiled. "Like a girl who hasn't been fucked properly in her entire life."

"Mommy..." Amy's voice was barely a sound.

"Shh." Diana's hand returned to Amy's pussy. Two fingers this time, index and middle, settling on either side of Amy's clit. She squeezed them together, trapping the sensitive nub between her fingers, and rolled.

Amy's thighs clamped around Diana's hand. Her toes curled. Her stomach hollowed.

"So sensitive." Diana's fingers rolled again. "My poor, touch starved kitten. Nobody's ever made you cum properly, have they? Nobody's ever known what this little body needs."

She released Amy's clit. Slid her fingers lower. Traced the opening again, circling, circling, the pad of her middle finger pressing just enough to part the tight ring of muscle and then retreating.

"Have they, baby?"

"N... no, Mommy." Amy could barely form words. Her hips were moving on their own, rolling against Diana's hand in slow, begging circles. "Nobody's ever... purr... nobody's ever touched me like... purr purr..."

"Like what, kitten?"

"Like they own me."

The words fell out of Amy's mouth before she could stop them, raw and honest and devastating, and Diana's fingers stilled against her pussy.

Silence. Amy's heart hammered. Her face burned. She'd said too much, been too honest, crossed some line that couldn't be uncrossed.

Diana's free hand found Amy's chin. Tilted her face up. Made her look.

"That's because nobody else does own you, baby." Diana's green eyes were fierce, burning with something that went beyond lust, beyond want, into a territory that was possessive and protective and feral. "You're mine. This pussy is mine. This body is mine. This collar is mine. You. Are. Mine."

Each word punctuated by a press of her fingers against Amy's clit, firm and precise, and Amy jerked with each one, small full body spasms, her mouth falling open wider, the purr climbing into a moan.

"Now Mommy is going to show you what it feels like to be owned."

Two fingers pushed inside Amy. Slow. Inch by inch. Amy felt herself stretching around them, felt the slick walls of her pussy gripping, felt the depth of the penetration as Diana's fingers slid deeper and deeper until her palm pressed flat against Amy's mound and her fingers were buried to the last knuckle.

"Ohh... oh Mommy... oh..."

"There she is." Diana curled her fingers. Found the ridged patch of tissue on the front wall that every anatomy diagram pointed to and every partner Amy had ever had missed entirely. Diana found it like she'd been given directions. Pressed. Rubbed. A firm, steady, come here motion against the spot that made Amy's vision blur.

"Feel Mommy's fingers inside you, kitten." Diana began a rhythm. Slow, deep thrusts, pulling out to the first knuckle and pushing back in, curling on each inward stroke. Her thumb settled on Amy's clit and drew circles in time with the thrusting. "This is what you've been aching for. All those nights in your dorm room with your little hand between your legs."

Amy was making sounds she didn't recognize. Small, broken things. Half mew, half moan, punctuated by purrs that kept climbing in pitch.

"Were you on your belly, baby?" Diana's fingers drove in. Curled. Withdrew. Drove in again. "On your belly in your dorm bed with your hand underneath you and your face in your pillow? Grinding against your own fingers and pretending they were mine?"

"Y... yes... Mommy..."

"Did you wear your ears? Your collar?"

"S... sometimes... purr..."

"Did you fuck yourself with the tail?"

Amy's face burned. Her chin dropped. Diana caught it again. Lifted it.

"Did you?"

"... yes." Barely audible.

Diana's thumb pressed harder on Amy's clit. The circles tightened, focused, relentless.

"My dirty little kitten. Alone in her dorm, dressed up in her ears and tail and collar, fucking herself and pretending Mommy was doing it." Diana's fingers curled inside Amy, hard, rubbing against that spot, and Amy's thighs started to shake. "Well here I am, baby. Here are Mommy's fingers."

She thrust deep.

"Deep inside you."

She curled.

"Right where they belong."

Amy was falling. She could feel it building, a pressure in her belly that was different from anything she'd ever given herself, deeper, fuller, a wave gathering force in her pelvis, tightening her muscles, making her toes flex and her fingers dig into Diana's thigh.

"Mommy..." The word was barely formed. "Mommy, I'm going to... I can't... Mommy..."

Diana's rhythm didn't change. Steady. Relentless. In, curl, out, circle. In, curl, out, circle. Her thumb on Amy's clit never faltered. Her mouth stayed at Amy's ear.

"Cum for Mommy, kitten."

Amy's breath hitched.

"Cum on Mommy's fingers. Let me feel this tight little pussy squeeze."

The wave broke.

Amy came. Not like the orgasms she gave herself, quick and sharp and over in seconds. This was tectonic. Her entire body curled inward, her stomach caving, her shoulders rolling forward, her thighs locking around Diana's hand with a force that surprised them both. Her pussy clamped down on Diana's fingers in rhythmic waves, squeeze and release, squeeze and release, each contraction pulling a sound out of her that was half mew and half sob.

"Ohh... ohhh... Mmm... Mommy... MOMMY..."

The bell rang and rang and rang.

Diana held her. Didn't stop moving. Her fingers kept their rhythm through the contractions, kept curling, kept stroking, and each stroke drew the orgasm longer, pulled more from Amy's body than Amy thought was there. A second peak rolled through on the heels of the first, sharper, her back bowing, and she cried out, a raw, keening sound that cracked at the top.

"Good girl." Diana's voice in her ear, steady and warm and proud. "That's my good kitten. Look at you."

Amy was shaking. Full body tremors, uncontrollable, her teeth chattering. Her pussy kept clenching around Diana's fingers in weakening waves, each one pulling a soft whimper from her throat.

"Shaking. Dripping. Cumming all over Mommy's fingers like the desperate little slut kitten you are."

Diana's thumb gave one last slow circle around Amy's clit. The lightest touch. Amy's hips jerked, an aftershock, and her body went limp.

"Beautiful, baby. You're beautiful."

Amy collapsed. Every bone in her body had dissolved. She was liquid, poured into Diana's lap, her face buried between Diana's breasts, her cheek pressed against the warm skin above Diana's heartbeat. She could hear it. Fast, strong, not quite steady, and Amy realized with a distant, glowing wonder that Diana's heart was racing too. That Diana was affected too. That the composure was a mask over something just as desperate as what Amy felt.

Diana withdrew her fingers from Amy's pussy. Slow. Gentle. Amy felt the loss, the sudden emptiness, and whimpered.

"Shh." Diana's clean hand stroked Amy's hair. Her other hand, the one coated in Amy's cum, rose to her own mouth. She sucked her fingers clean, one at a time, tasting her daughter while her daughter lay boneless against her chest.

The living room was blue now. The amber light had faded to dusk, the long shadows merging into a general dimness punctuated by the last glow of sunset through the west windows. The house was quiet. No mockingbird. No refrigerator. Just breathing. Two women. A purr that rolled and rolled, unbroken, vibrating against Diana's sternum.

Diana kissed the top of Amy's head. Between the kitten ears. Her lips lingered there.

Amy's mouth moved against Diana's breast. Her voice was a destroyed thing, small and hoarse and saturated with something that went beyond pleasure into a place that didn't have a name.

"Purr purr... yes, Mommy."