Owned

I was finally going to meet him!

I'd seen him... them... both of them together before, but I couldn't tell Ashley that. I could never bring myself to call her Barbie, some stupid nickname she got at work and she can't even remember why or who started it, but everyone calls her that. Maybe it was the way it made us sound together: Britney and Barbie!

She'd excitedly told me they'd become fuckbuddies, texting me the morning after their first au deux, still in his bed, fuck drunk. She even mentioned his size with an lol. That she'd just met 'her lusty soulmate and physical match'.

They fucked constantly, whenever they weren't working, like she was making up for all those fuckless nights with Greg and dating app hookups who used her just for her money. They even fuck when she's under the moon with the clusters of pimples in the corner of her mouth and super horny... nasty!

She kept the fact from me that their first encounter had been in a threesome with Greg after a work party. Until one drunken night she let it slip, shamefaced and without a hint of braggadocio. I don't know if she even remembered telling me.

I can't believe it, my little Ash had a threesome before me!

I began to wonder if I would ever meet him, unlike Greg, who I met more often than I cared to remember.

So when she announced she was going to throw her first party and he was going to be there, I knew I had my research to do, and his catalogue turned out to be exhausting, both literally and physically.

I took the words I'd heard from her that she'd learned from him: edging, gooning, denial, forced climax, controlled stimulation, engorged, ruins and poppers and I knew right away I'd found a like soul. God, I could spend hours rubbing my clitty to the point of oblivion only to cut it short, teetering on the precipice. Once I'd learned he'd spend entire weekends indulging in the passtime, that is before they began fucking every chance they got, I sheltered in place and began my marathon sessions with my suddenly freed up time.

And I had a lot of it. We were inseparable, Ashley and I, unless Greg was around. So much so, that after several mornings of her stumbling out of my room hung over, messy haired and wearing my robe, my parents were concerned enough to give me 'the talk.'

Please, what am I gonna do with a pair of tiddies? I like dick but my parents never met any boyfriends cuz I don't like all the shit that comes along with it. Sure, I like to cuddle after if I actually like you, but I don't need you around the next morning unless we're gonna fuck again. I don't wanna listen to you talk, I don't wanna hear how bad you feel for doing 'this' to your girlfriend. That's why I choose to flick my bean for hours and have an assortment of toys that I keep under my mattress.

Oh, yeah about his posts: she said he posted about things on discussion boards and topical forums, extoling the virtues of edging and orgasm denial as meditation and sex magick: pretty much boiling it down to living in the moment an directing that unused energy to mindfulness. As well as topics such as hypersexuality and gender reversal, discussing ancient festivals where women donned fake beards and dangling phalli; while men covered their hair in gold nets, draped themselves in gold bracelets, necklaces and robes that swept the ground.

He catalogued hermaphroditic deities with female breasts and cherubic cocks who emerged from cosmic eggs and cults devoted to the procreative lifeforce of the phallus and clitoris.

He wrote about the balance of gender in antiquity and how some men acquired more feminine traits and counterwise, spawning effeminate men and masculine women which offset that balance of gender.

He wrote the prose poem of the beauty of our bodies: curve of eyebrows, long lashes, the thumb print of the deep set philtrum, connecting with the curve of the cupids bow, belly buttons; the dimples only your lover sees: dimples of Adam and Venus, sacral dimples, feet upturned with toes tight. arch of the small of the back and the sole of the foot: gorgeous bodies doing delicious things.

As well as his own theories (unfounded) of the perineal raphe in gender determination.

He even posted and essay on 'How To Live Like a Pornstar' which was just about living erotically and passionately with zero shame the whole day rather than just the time when your fucking someone.

They were intriguing, exhaustive ramblings comparable to the voluminous prison writings of The Marquis de Sade.

I doubt she ever actually read them, nor realized how deep they went, but just reiterated what he preached to her. She drunkenly mentioned that he used the internet handle 'Sissy Kitty' and thanks to my internet stalking and excellent cross referencing skills, I traced the interconnecting nodes of his spider web to the central hub: his fansonly account, which she never mentioned to me and I discovered why.

I wasn't going to pay for porn, but thanks to my familiarity with internet porn sites, I found abridged clips of his videos: Kitty solo play climaxing in volcanic p-spot orgasms, playful sessions with other sissies in dresses in which Kitty took the dominant role and femboy sixty-nines: just imagine that if you've never have! Though I never saw him go full sissy: never wearing a dress nor women's panties... he never wears underwear. Other videos with girls eager to assume the status of porner for a session. Dizzy social media influencers who consensually agreed to be on camera, many of whom declined the masks he offered or having their faces digitally obscured. One was a reactioner who even posted their video on her channer and another gleefully piped "Wait until my boyfriend finds out!"

There were even men, alphas who fucked him senseless and made him moan like a girl... fuck, I couldn't keep my fingers off myself watching all his videos: I came with him... with them.

Finally, I recognized her even with the mask, her shrill moans: my bff, who wouldn't even masturbate, turned into pornslut. Who was adored by the horny losers in the comments.

Then the day of the party arrived. I had been enveloped in an edge high the whole the day, my awareness heightened after having spent the morning massaging my honeyed vajayjay before heading over to help Ash to prepare for the party. It was the first time, I'd had the chance to go out in an edge high since reading Kitty's prurient manifestos.

Ash had asked me to stop and pick up some party favors and I was hot for everyone, totally giving off an concupiscent aura while seeing everyone else's eroticism.

We have the potential to be so close, but we separate ourselves so easily.

The guy working In the Party Store was cute. I dallied at the cash, joked with him, coquettishly played my short hair. I flashed some flirty smiles his way and then asked if he could help me carry my things to my car. Granted I didn't have many things, but he finally saw where I was going. If he was hoping for a quickie in my backseat, he was disappointed... well, not disappointed, but I didn't have the time to get all cramped up for a quickie: my car's not big enough to spread my legs out in a parking lot in the middle of the day, nor get my seats all sticky. Let me put it this way, he staggered back into the store and I tossed the wet tissue out of my window as I drove out of the parking lot. The pleasure in it for me was giving the pleasure.

The party wore on and people had become well oiled with alcohol and edibles, the latter being Ash's preferred form of indulging. I honestly was astounded by her ability, taking a second before the first had kicked in and a third eventually. She'd enacted a no smoking rule so the nosy neighbors wouldn't spy people outside and tell the homeowner once they returned from their trip.

"Save your smokes for the trip home!" Ashley declared.

We partied under the bright florescent tubes of the basement lights, so bright, Ash never used them, which hovered over the basement in like dual motherships.

"Is he actually coming?" I asked, trying not to let my curiosity betray my indifference.

"It's too early." Ashley said without looking at the time. "He never goes out until late. Besides, he prolly spent the day... ummm... occupied without me." She grinned.

We we conversing in different groups, her back to me when I heard her phone give an impatient buzz. I turned to see her holding it.

"He's here!" She screeched excitedly, much to the bewilderment of everyone else and whisked up the stairs.

I moved over to the bottom of the stairs, but could only see her feet with their dirty soles, sidestepping the collection of shoes crowding the landing. Everyone had just worn running shoes and sandals and my heeled booties stood out regally.

I saw the door swing open and a pair of boots step cautiously in: a pair of sheep skin boots, just below the knee, with the fleece lining exposed through the scars of the stitching and fur capping the top.

They stood for a moment, feet still, conversing. I don't know whether he was fussing about his shoes, or they were just talking private things. Ash has a 'no shoes policy' in the basement, which I know from first hand, he didn't have to adhere to when it was just the two of them.

Confession time: I'd seen them both, as I peered in her window, their boots on with their legs twisted around each other's body or the soles of Ash's boots raised as his white ass pumped into her or his boots swaying in the air while she amazoned him.

God, what did he do to her?

He slipped his boots off, elegantly, using the toe of one to brace the heel, then the toe of the bare foot to do the same. God, they were nice boots.

Finally they descended down the stairs, like two subterranean debutantes to their ball in the depths.

I was expecting a grand entrance and he did attract attention.

No one had cared when she answered the door, but by the time they descended, all glassy, bloodshot eyes were on the stairs.

First the long legs, then the shorts... fur shorts, the thin line of his wasp waist, the shag of his slim, fur vest with its luxuriant collar slipping into a thick lapel: A huntress of the wild: a more feminine Artemis, donned in the coats of her kill.

Finally his face: the youthful, delicate face of the deities he wrote about. Chestnut eyes with long dark lashes which I thought he coated in mascara. He didn't touch makeup, just coated his lips in gloss constantly. It would be one of the few time I would see his eyes given his habit of constantly wearing sunglasses. A faun, beloved of both Gods and mortals, male and female, the shag of his chestnut hair crowned with his double pointed crown of cat ears, thick and furry and of the same sable shade as the rest of the outfit.

As I would learn, his outfits (and nails) always matched and were tied by a sort of dream or theme and the theme this night was Persian Kitty.

Gotta admit, it was gaudy, but he made it work.

He looked at all the people watching him, and clutched the railing with brown nails.

Fuck, I knew he was tall but holy shit. He had to duck at the final step to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. I mean, I'm tall for a girl, taller than all the other guys here, but he was a head taller than me.

"Everyone, this is Kitty, my only awesome coworker." Ashley announced. Then turned to Kitty. "Kitty this is everyone!"

"Hello, everyone!" He said shyly.

Ok, this is not how I thought he was going to be.

I noticed the most striking accessory of his apparel partially hidden behind the thick collar of his vest: A thick leather collar with it's large, gleaming O-ring.

Ashley laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll introduce you to everyone in due time!"

But first it was me, and, flatteringly, I'm apparently someone who need no introduction.

"I feel like I'm meeting the Guest of Honor." I said taking his warm, soft, hands in mine.

"On the contrary, Britney, I feel like I'm meeting the Guest of Honor!" He countered. "After everything I've heard about you, about how long you've been friends and everything you've been through together. I asked if she needed help today, but she had you."

But I was to lose him after that to the rest of the crowd and keeping an eye on him, past all the people separating us, I have to admit, he wasn't the arrogant, conceited person I thought he as going to be. He was shy and gracious. He made the rounds conversing with everyone in turn, like royalty: a Fairy King clad in furs.

These were our friends since high school, though Ash and I met before that, and I fully expected perfidious talk and texts from them regarding him, but everything they said to me was amiable with one of them calling him 'a little fruity and weird but nice.'

Then I realized he, too, wasn't drinking nor did I see him take any edibles. He couldn't even take any hits from his magic vape: another thing he did when he and Ash were alone. I'd seen them rolling around on her bed, tangled up in the bedding, boots on, sniffing from a small vial and hitting his vape.

He loosened up on the dance floor, lost in the beat and rhythm of the music when the makeshift dancefloor was formed, where guys and girls were trying to get close to him.

Yup, I think both the boys and girls wanted a little kitty that night.

That's where I got close to him, dancing and giving him a smile that said 'Wait til I get you alone later!'

He and Ash put on a good show of platonic friendship, which slipped a little during the dancing: they got closer together in a passionate substitute for what they had been denied the past 24 hours. But I don't think any one caught on, they figured he was a fruity coworker: a girl's girl.

"I have to clean up!" Ashley said, her eyes swollen and red, her breath rank.

"We already did!" I said finishing up some dishes at the sink. My back to both of them.

She sat on the couch, its back to the kitchenette, Kitty in the chair facing her, a long leg crossed elegantly over the other knee. His eyes clear. I could hear her giggle and the smack of her lips as I imagined her blowing kisses to him or emulating slightly more obscene things with her mouth.

"Awwww.... thanks! Come here, I love you both so much!"

I glanced back over my shoulder to see her with both her arms opened, awaiting an affectionate, double embrace.

It was just the three of us, the last of the guests had dispersed with my promises of taking care of Ash and cleaning up. Kitty had collected the empty cans and helped clean up the food, while Ash tried to get her bearings on the couch. The edibles had hit her... hard.

"Come here! Both of you!" She ordered. "Come to bed with me, but don't worry, I'll sleep between you... no awkwardness."

A tangible disquietude between Kitty and myself filled the room

"That couch is too small for the three of us!" I joked.

"Pbbbtttt..." Ashley sputtered, "... that's what you think. Hey I was gonna clean up!"

"We already did!" I said again.

"Awww... I love you guys!" She plopped over on the couch.

I heard her snoring moments later.

Kitty asked what we do with her.

"Just leave her there! Let her sleep it off. She's gonna feel rough tomorrow."

I heard him go to their bed of iniquities and pull off a pillow and blanket. She cooed as he slid the pillow under her head and cuddled the blanket close to her as he draped it over her.

Ashley had an innocence about her which made her seem that much more naive whenever she got hurt or taken advantage of, and shone through making her look more chaste the more dissolute she became.

He sat back down. Now I had his complete attention and I had waited all night for my moment: made the rounds socializing, feigning interest in conversation and babysat Ash as she got fucked up. I rebuffed the drunken flirtations and advances of our friends we'd known for years... not that any had a chance anyway.

"Good thing we both stayed sober!" I said.

He agreed then added: " I don't think I told you: I luv your hair: classic Louise Brooks bob... really suits your face. You resemble her with the shape of your face and your nose."

I laughed. Ash had told me we could pass for brother and sister except for his hair being lighter, but I guess I saw it: a feline look with our pointed nose and heart-shaped face.

I made my move: I had worn a skirt so short, a pleated school girl skirt, I couldn't even sit down and was worried it might have fluttered up as I danced. My legs are my most striking feature: I'm tall and it's all in my legs. Ballet when I was young and years of soccer, track 'n' field and field hockey has given me the legs of a gymnast. I fiddled at the sink, just biding my time now and began to bend forward. I could feel his eyes on me as my skirt rose. The chill of the basement tickled my underbutt as my skirt went up like a curtain which finally fell around my hips and draped my full moon like a veil.

A perfect cambre devant: ten out of ten... thank you judges.

I reached my hand between my legs and gave my taco a rub, to make sure he could see it too.

Now I was hot with anticipation and squeezed my asshole: the ruby studded plug rooted in me flexed with a hard shudder. My coup de grace.

'Voulez vous couchez avec moi ce soir pour s'amuser un peu?'

Our blood heated.

I heard him rise and smiled as I felt his warm hand on my ass. My plug trembled.

I quickly snapped up and faced him, my skirt dropped back down defensively.

'Show's over!'

He stood dazed, all the quiet confidence he exuded stifled under a fearful moment of panic.

"Did I say you could touch me?"

"Ummm... no."

"Well, you got to see and touch me, it's only fair I get the same from you!" I said sternly glaring at him. Waiting.

We were sheltered by the back of the couch, Ashley on the other side, snored blissfully away.

He slid his shorts down, just below his ass, the fur must have felt so good: soft sensations through his skin.

Ash was right, he never wore underwear and laughably, he didn't even sport a bulge.

God, what an ass... if you like that sort of thing: a woman's ass!

He'd written of Venus Barbata: the bearded Venus, but here was the Venus Kallipgyos shyly showing off her beautiful ass. As if to say 'Is it beautiful... is it?' when it couldn't be anything but.

I slapped it, which he took passively. Ash was silent for a moment before she snorted and resumed her rumbling.

"More!" I ordered.

He leaned forward.

I slid his shorts down further and spread one of his ass cheeks. He didn't disappoint: the amethyst base of a plug stopped up his ass.

"Ooooohhhh!" I breathed as I traced its hard base. "You wore this for her... just in case you two had your time?"

Anyone who knew Ash, knew it was her favorite color: that specific shade of purple. The color of her phone case and her nails when she decided to paint them.

But I wasn't done there.

I tugged the shorts down to his ankles, covering his bare, cold feet and pushed his shoulders forward.

"Get down like a good kitty. Let me see."

His ass raised up as he leaned on the counter and, like a good breeder checking the virility of their pet, I slipped my hand down between his legs.

He winced when my hand bumped against his balls. Just as I expected, he had them ringed. I fondled them. Wait! Not ringed.

"A separator!" I said.

He grunted.

I held them.

They were swollen and red. I squeezed them gently, he winced again. Engorged completely. No wonder they were so sensitive. Red and swollen, they looked like they hurt.

"They're so sore and full since you didn't unload them into her. Yeah, I know about you two, we are bffs... you know bitches can't keep their mouths shut right?"

He grunted still in my grasp.

"Ohhhh... they're ready to pop."

But I wasn't done my exploration.

I pressed my thumb on this plug and rotated his ass even further so his rearcock was in my face. He was flexible. I looked at his seam, the perfect line from his balls to his ass.

I had never given the raphe much thought until I'd read his writings, then I looked at mine in the mirror. Nothing special, just a white line. I started paying attention in porn: some more predominant than others. But now I understood his preoccupation with the raphe: His seam was so tactile, so raised, I could ply it beneath my finger, bend it to either side. Rough, red and thick, like an inseam. It was hot to my touch. I ran my finger along it reading the braille of his body.

"Beautiful!" I said. "You should have been a girl!"

I don't know why I said that, but it was the first thing I thought. I learned from his writings that the raphe and perineum are formed at the the time as gender determination and it was like he was going to be a girl but was changed at the last moment. Roughly sealed with that coarse seam in masculinity or some form of it where, like he said in his writings, the feminine outweighed the masculine.

I got to my knees and pulled his ass towards me, he nearly bent in half as I got the whole view of his posterior, balls and all.

He moaned deliriously as I sucked them in. He didn't have the sour, strong smell most men have down there, even after dancing and sweating. His hygiene was immaculate: perfumed and powdered. He whimpered and shuffled his footing. I moaned with my mouth full, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. I sucked on the conjoined eggs of his sac. I reached my hand and touched him for the first time: He was already hard! He had been!

He started to breath heavy. I spat him out rousing another whimper from him.

"It's ok, Baby, let's go take care of those things. You'll be lucky to not cream in your shorts on the bumpy car ride home!"

I stood up, he pulled his shorts up.

It was agreed. We both went to the stairs. I led and took his hand.

Possibilities and anticipation of unknown joys lay in store for us. Well, for him. I had an idea where I was leading him.

"I love your boots what size are they?"

"Nine!" he said.

Fuck... not only does he have a small dick for his size, he also has tiny feet!

"Awesome! We're same size, let's switch."

I picked one up and smelled it: always walking barefoot in them, they were ripe with his sour odor.

Mmmmmm... I slipped my feet in their fleecy softness, I felt like a woman warrior.

He placed mine on with no less enjoyment: Toeless, leather ankle booties, which were my favorite to wear. Wearing them gave me the feeling like when I wear a thong, as little covering the part of the body. Laces ran up the front with the severity of a corset. which he didn't tighten, but just slid his feet in. Ash's scuffed white adidas stood dejectedly by.

I asked him if he had a key, as I clicked the light panel, putting the basement in darkness. He shook his head no. I opened the door and we stepped out into the buzzing night, the darkness sounding with a symphony of cricket song. The nearby burst went silent with our presence.

"Good thing I do!" I said fishing the key from my purse. The dead bolt clicked with a loudness I feared might wake Ash up...

We sat in the back silently in the back of the Uber, Kitty curled up into me, purring gently.

"We're not going to do it!" I said.

He looked at me with his dark eyes under the flick of his long lashes, but didn't retreat.

We were deposited us in front of the house. There was a chill in the night air due in a large part to where the house sat: on the brink of a vast darkness. On one side of the street houses, on the other the encroaching nothingness of The Field at night. In which the the faint exterior lights of a school could be seen and where the bulk of an arena slumbered somewhere in the darkness.

The car pulled away and we in alone on the verge of that darkness and while some houses still gave voice to merriment and late running parties within, Kitty's house was darkly silent.

We passed through the floral jungle of the front yard, the sweet aroma of flowers in anthesis and covetously burying the short iron fence beneath their overgrowth. I knew he, too, lived in a basement, but there was no side, separate entrance like Ash's. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open, I was seized by stifling darkness of the house. It was narrow, with a shared wall with the next house. A central hall way leading to the kitchen in the back and stairwell leading upstairs to the left which ran along the shared wall.

Directly to the right of the entrance the vanguard of the house: the living room, still stinking of weed, tobacco and alcohol, in which someone snored on the couch. No one cleaned up here. I could see the landscape of tall cans crowdedly dominating the coffee table.

I asked who that was. He replied that is was a roommates friend. They all had their separate friends who became part of the weekend fold.

"It can get really crowded in here Friday nights!" He said. "That's our party night. And everyone does their own thing the rest of the weekend."

"And you're the Kitty around them?"

"Of course! I've been bred by more than few of their friends, and and my roommates' girlfriend's friends too.'

"Such a slut!" I laughed. "And they don't mind you being the house pet?

"Why would they, it's my house."

"What?" I gasped, trying to keep my voice down. I was stunned

"My grandmother left it to me and my parents would only let me take it if I lived in the basement and rented out the rooms. Barbie doesn't even know. I kept my gooned life a secret for so long, when they accidentally found out, they thought it was hot and The Kitty was unleashed."

Our boots thudded down the hall, doubly loud in the quiet house. Or quiet I thought!

Faintly I could hear the sound of moans: a couple having the time of her life. Especially the girl.

I was hot with the thought.

I knew he watched porn constantly but as he opened the basement door and we descended the stairs, the basement was dark and quiet. We got our footing on the tile floor of the laundry area: an engulfing darkness beyond the gaping door frame. The shag of an old carpet beginning at the border of his domain.

I stopped.

He looked at me puzzled, then said with a smile: "Don't worry about it, we might be glad to keep them on."

I followed him in, the curtain of beads, which acted as a door, pushed aside. I was getting hotter by the thought of the moaning going on somewhere above us.

Ash mentioned his basement not having a bathroom and complained about having to use the one on the second floor. She had also lamented about the absence of the other convenience her basement had: a kitchenette. The lack of both those amenities kept them from cloistering themselves from the rest of the house for entire weekends.

I asked him where it was and acted crestfallen when he he told me, like I didn't want to have to go all the way up there.

I sprinted back up the stairs softly in his boots, and then up to the second floor. Just as I thought, the moans grew louder. The corridor was dark. I followed the sounds past closed doors and come to one slightly ajar. A seam of light filled the crack. I peered in and saw the thrashing of bodies on the bed. I pushed the door open slightly.

Mmmmm... a dark brown cowgirl rode her stud. His BWC disappeared into the moist darkness of her hairy pussy. She writhed, like a snake goddess, her long black hair a dark veil down to her ass. Her head wobbled to one side. The guy, his hands cradled the lobes of her firm ass, looked at me surprised. She opened her eyes and saw me.

"Ohhhh!" she squeaked. A hand went to her mouth in surprise and quickly dropped away to expose her beaming smile.

"I thought it was him!" The guy said.

"Me too! But he's out. He's not gonna wake up. He was so fucked up!" She said without the trace of an accent.

People find accents sexy, but an ethnic person without one is super sexy.

"Looks like Kitty brought home a stray. You can come and join us!" She offered.

She turned her attention back to him and I watched the Hindu goddess and her white lover a while longer before turning away.

"Whatever you do, don't wake the guy sleeping downstairs!" I heard her whisper to me.

As I headed back downstairs and passed the cucked man sleeping, I was assailed by a triad of moans which only grew louder with my descent back into the basement which was bathed in the light of the television. Kitty stood naked and tall, retaining only his collar and his genitalia regalia observing a threesome on the television: a blonde and brunette: one white kitten, one dark kitten with correspondingly colored cat ears and nails painted to match.

Aidra and Vanna! I recognized them right away. They were inverted in a 69 with Vanna on her back, a stud railed her, while Aidra rubbed her clitty.

By the time I rounded the bed I'd shed my clothes too with the exception of Kitty's boots. I saw kitty had kept mine on as well. My nipple rings glinted. My hand went to his ribs.

"I've never seen this scene!" I said.

"You know who they are?"

"Uh, yeah!" I guffawed.

"Barbie didn't even know Kenzi." Kitty snickered.

"She is a little... naive." I said. "Show me your toys!"

He sprawled across the bed, boots jutting off and reached to the nightstand.

Bottles towered on it and teetered as he opened the drawer and his ass flexed. As assortment of tall ones and smaller vials. I lifted a tall one: lube. I lifted a smaller one. In the glare of the TV, I could see the label was red with yellow lettering that read RUSH.

As Kitty picked through the drawer, he saw me perusing it.

"Poppers!" he said.

"What do these do?" I asked playing dumb. I'd heard Ash mention them and done my homework.

"Enhance the pleasure," he said. "Makes you really feel like you're gonna pop and then you do!"

I never understood the chemical enhancements with self play, for me it was enough, I transport myself with my clitty, my mind and my finger... Besides...

"I don't do drugs aside from alcohol!" I told him.

I know he and Ashley spanned the spectrum of substances ranging from soft drugs to PnP both recreationally and erotically.

I returned it to it's spot in the menagerie.

It was embarrassing collection of both lubes and poppers.

I saw the tangle of the drawers contents while the stud pulled from Vanna, breaking their connection in a heave of their bodies and Aidra stroked him to climax, his load running down her chin. God, her nails looked great.

"This is the scene that did it for you? That unleashed the Kitty?"

His head signalled awkwardly in his sprawled position.

He pulled apart the tangled of rubber and silicon. Silver rings glinted beneath the snarled mass. I pulled out a large one.

"That's beautiful!" I said placing it on the tower of bottles.

He laid the collection out on the bed: rubber and silicon rings, leather ones with snaps. Stretchers, separators and cock corsets. He was really into ball play.

"Where's the big ones?" I asked.

We all have our collection we're so proud of: our box of toys we take out and peruse, like a box of jewelry. We touch one, immediately conjuring up images and sensations of sweet ecstasy, only to be distracted my its neighbor and 'the grass is always greener...'

Kitty crouched beside the bed and lugged out a suitcase that looked like it had inhabited the house since grandma's day. A snap of the rusted locks and the heavy lid lifted revealing the spectrum of toys inside: like a butchers or doctors collection of tools: long and laid out side by side, some smaller plugs spade shaped with bejeweled bases; others long and blunt headed with chordeic curves. There were devices contoured into otherworldly shapes with hollowed out bases for battery packs that would bring them buzzing to life.

Fuck I was getting hot looking at them. His collection more massive than mine.

I always worried about dying and my parents looking in my closet, but Kitty's parents would be stricken added to the fact he turned his granny's house into a pleasure dome and his roomie and their girls into deviates.

We kissed.

"Which one was your first?" I murmured pulling my lips away.

He perused the toybox, then pulled out a slim, pallid coloured one, no balls, just a straight 5 inches.

"Let me guess: too small!"

He smiled.

That's what happens: you start off with a plug, then you want something bigger, but not too big. You get it home, try it out and it's not big enough, so you go back to the store and go right to the most imposing one.

But it's always good to err on the side of caution especially when dealing with your bum.

"Do you have a favorite!"

I thought he might pull out one of the battery powered, double pronged, insert all the way so it crosses your eyes and tickles your molars monsters, but rather he picked up a rainbow 12 incher all veiny with a pair on immobile, stalwart balls.

"Classic model!" I commended him.

My finger went to the large ring dangling from his neck, I gave it rough tug, he resisted and I pulled harder.

"We'll have fun later." I said pulling him down to the bed, our bodies amongst the suitcase and rings. It had been such a long day. "Let's sleep."

I didn't know if it was night or day when I woke: If I'd slept for hours or minutes. Kitty had blacked out the basement windows so night or day was of no concern; so when he was home, he lived according to circadian cravings of the body.

Sex, sleep and food: in that order.

All I knew is the scene was at the beginning: White kitten Vanna admired and preened herself in the mirror as dark Kitten Aidra espied her lustily before sneaking up on her in a sensuous kiss. The house was still silent above us: what had become of the cucking couple? Did the bull steal away and the cuckold wake to find his perfect girlfriend sleeping the sleep of a satisfied woman?

I woke with my legs pressed together and my pussy wet, hot with denial while Kitty purred softly in his sleep, enveloped in sweet dreams. His separated balls still swollen. A dewdrop formed on the tip of his tumescent cock.

I leaned over it and sucked it up with a quick slurp.

His long lashes flashed open in startlement.

"Do you have a toy for me... just something simple and big that I can ride?" I asked softly.

"Hnnngggghhfuck!" I groaned.

Our slick toys disappeared into us in rhythm, our bodies in sync. The well worn mattress squeaked metronomically beneath us. We rode vis a vis, our toys stuck to hardcover books.

My legs muscles burned delightfully. I leaned back and gripped my the saddlehorn of my ride's rigid balls; the quiver of my body focused on my knot.

Kitty's neglected dickie bounced stiffly. I'd removed his spreader, his balls instantly relieved, but quickly harnessed them with a trio of silicone Borromean rings.

"Fuckkk! You love it!" I moaned.

We leaned into each other and kissed. I shoved his head to my titties and he sucked hard. They weren't the luscious sacks Ash has, my body was firm, toned and my tits were too.

"Harder!" I moaned. I felt the edge of this teeth take my nipples and give a dangerous tug on my piercings.

I shoved his head away and slapped his face.

I grabbed his balls.

"You wanna get rough?" I huffed.

His bounces grew restrained, careful to not pull to hard in my grasp.

I reined the feral cat.

"Oh yeah! This is how I control you... this is your leash!" I said.

The talking didn't take me out of my mindset... it flowed so naturally.

The day earlier jerking the party store employee off in my car, my mouth worked as readily as my hand, hurling hot obscenities, equal parts insults and adoration. Now the words flowed in the same torrent while my body worked.

He whimpered.

"Do you want me to stop?" I barked, tightening my grip.

"N... no!" He grunted.

"These things are full, they're going to pop. Rub me!"

He reached and rubbed my clit as I worked my hips. The hotter I got, the tighter my grip got.

His hand slipped off a couple of times, my hips thrusting too wildly. He slipped his thumb beneath my mantle and pressed my reset button.

Barbie had gushed red cheeked when she told me about her cute pussy. An innie it was called. Mine wasn't like that: the sweet meats of the calm exserted the shell. Ash's was cute, mine was messy and sensitive and left a wet, sticky, snail trail where ever I rubbed it.

"Ooooohyyyyesssss!" I hissed.

I was gonna cum. I stroked him to get him there.

My hips went faster and faster, I stroked him faster and faster.

I felt it tighten in my knees first, then my toes, then the electrical charge ran back up.

We popped at the same.

"Ohhhhffffuckk!" I moaned.

He whimpered and came ropes through my hand... hard.

"Hhhhnggghhhhfuuuuck!" He grunted gruffly. "Oooohhhhfuck!"

I felt the warm splatter on my leg. He drenched the sheet beneath us.

I writhed like I was on a hot seat and let my flow gush through his hand as he rubbed me furiously, soaking the bedding even more. I finally pushed his hand away when I could take it no more.

I held his relieved balls as they throbbed in their yoke and massaged them until the spasms died.

We came down in one space. I had inserted myself into their space: Ash wasn't going to have something good without me. The sheet unpleasantly sticky with both our discharges beneath us

"Whew!" I hissed. "I'm gonna release them!" I told him slipping into my role.

I didn't wait for his consent.

Now I don't have the equipment but I knew it the rings were one piece and needed to be slipped off carefully, bit by bit... but I didn't.

I grabbed it by the rubber that encircled the base and pulled. He was so lubed his cocks and balls slipped out with a quick flick but not without effect. He jolted with the final shock of ecstasy and fell to the bed with a thud, panting anew.

His toy still stood hard and undaunted.

I slipped off mine and collapsed next to him.

I was no longer sure whether I was awake or dreaming: the basement had that effect on you, cast in it's perpetual gloaming while Aidra and Vanna enacted their eternal threesome.

I heard the house above me: the creak of the floorboards, the distant rumble on the stairs and finally the hum of voices through the walls.

Ash told me how nosey they were and I knew it wouldn't be long, especially since they hadn't see their kitty come in last night.

I turned over, the crusty sheet ripped from my gluey body.

Our toys still fastened to their bases, stood at attention covered in a thin white film. Good soldiers awaiting the call of battle.

I popped open a bottle of lube and squirted some in my hand and wiped it on my sticky pussy.

I heard the voices move throughout the house. First the living room, then infiltrate the kitchen with the bang of cupboards and clatter of kitchenware.

I mounted my ride and began to loose myself immediately in the rhythm of my body.

I closed my eyes and forgot my intention until I heard the thud of footsteps descend to our depths.

I heard a gasp and opened my eyes to see a form standing in the doorway.

Ash had grown tired of their voyeurism, so she'd taken it upon herself to install the beaded curtains. The other inhabitants quickly learned that when they were closed, it meant 'Off limits!'

We'd left them open when we entered.

I could see her red hair: Gemma, I believe, from what Ash told me.

I was the spy who had infiltrated the House of Lust and I had all my intel supplied inadvertently by Ash.

It must have taken her a minute to realize I wasn't Ash, and seeing Kitty's inert body next to me sent her quickly back up the stairs, but only partially: her shadow still filled the stairwell. I heard her call to someone in hushed voice.

Double footsteps came back down and she stood there with the Desi Princess: Shree! That's her name: Shree! And I saw the smile again. They watched me. Their arousal palpable.

My body was a wave that undulated from my hips to the extremities. My nipples were hard. I put my hands on my hips then moved them up my body in long caress which came to rest on my breasts, tweaking my barbells.

Gemma pointed to Kitty sleeping beside me. Aidra and Vanna in action as my backdrop.

"God, look at her, she's gorgeous. Not like that one he fucks now: she looks like an unmade bed!" Gemma said.

Rude but true. Kitty put so much care in his appearance and Ash always looked like she stumbled out of bed... I mean when they see her she usually did, but even before that, her frequently unwashed hair disheveled, dressed in sweat pants and always wearing the same scuffed white adidas.

They watched me for few moments longer then retreated back up the stairs and my introduction by way of a show was finished.

I flopped back down to the bed. Kitty's eyes flickered open.

"Mmmm... looks who's awake."

I rose from the bed. Kitty watched me prance naked across the basement to where I'd dropped my purse with my clothes.

"Have you always been a stray?" I asked and continued without waiting for a response. "I had one pet in my life, a beautiful golden lab named Husk. I loved that dog. Had 'im for 18 years, before Ash and I were ever friends. And she loved him too. Her parents never allowed her to have any pets, not even a fucking fish or bird. Husk used to climb on the bed and nestle between us during our sleepovers crowding the bed but we didn't care. One night, we were drinking and eating pizza and she dropped a crust which he took quickly in his mouth. I told her to just let 'im have it, but she was drunk and didn't listen and tried to pull it away from him and he bit her. It hurt. She cried and it took some time for reconciliation on her part. When he died, it was as if we'd both lost a pet. We cried and cried."

I picked my purse up and fished something out of it, and turned back to him, the object concealed in my hand.

"I never dreamt of replacing him, such a beautiful, well trained dog and I trained him myself. Not like these small yappy dogs who drag their owner along on adjustable leashes."

I let the object unwind from my hand as Husk's leash dangled, the clasp swung heavily.

"I never dreamt of replacing him until now."

I stopped at the foot of the bed and took the clasp in my other hand.

Kitty smiled and sat up, his flaccid dick tortoised, too small to even swing or dangle and bowed his head, the ring of his collar tilted towards me.

I sealed out relationship with the click clasp on collar.

"First things first!" I began. I retrieved the ring I'd dropped onto the bottle. "I want you to wear this one every time we're together. Is there another that fits you balls?"

He reached into the drawer and pulled out it's slightly smaller brethren.

"Good! Now, I'm guessing you don't wear your collar at work!"

He nodded. Good, Kitty, pets don't talk.

"Now that's a problem! Now that you're no longer a stray, you must wear your day collar."

I thought for a moment, then it came to me: I loosened the knots of my adjustable necklace, still swollen with sweat, removed it and searched through the drawer until I found the third ring. The smallest of the set but still two and half inches in diameter. I fastened the ring through the cord in a lark's head knot and dangled it proudly with a 'there you go' look.

Even if people didn't realize he was wearing a day collar, some might realize he's wearing a cockring as a pendant. I dare them to call him out on it!

"You and I are going to be a good match, we both have imagination!"

He purred.

His dick was hard now and sprouted unthreateningly from his lap.

"Looks like some one needs to go out!"

He nodded excitedly.

He held up a finger in a 'wait a minute' gesture and searched through the drawer and pulled something small out: a leather corset with a small D ring.

He fastened it around his balls, stretching them.

I took the clasp from his neck and clipped it to the D ring.

I jumped up and went through the masks stacked on his desk which he offered to his starlets and studs to wear. I sifted through them, recalling some I'd seen in his scenes.

An assortment of carnival and masquerade masks. Glitter and plumage adorning some, others just simple eye coverings

Then it I saw it!

Just a cheap carnival mask one gets from a dollar store with flimsy elastic band for a fastener, but it was for me!

A gnaga mask: feline with it's rich history.

I slipped it on.

"You know the history and purpose of this mask?" I asked.

"Of course!" he said, slipping from the role momentarily. But I would forgive it for the gnaga mask.

"This is mine, now. The whores aren't to wear it, especially her!"

"Yes, Mistress!"

We were ready to go.

Kitty quickly led me up the stairs and into the hallway.

We heard the laughter of a woman rising above the chatter and television in the living room, the chaos of voices and cooking in the kitchen: the house was in recovery.

The floor creaked beneath us as we stopped just as a tall blonde waif-like woman came from the kitchen, a glass of champagne in her hand. She had sensuous lips and the look of 60's model.

Elise.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh!" She uttered.

Gemma and a black guy, one of his roommates and the boyfriend of Elise, peeked out from the kitchen.

"Ohmigawd!" Gemma gasped with a smile.

"Woo hoo!" The black guy, Barrington, hooted loudly which drifted into the living room alerting its occupants

The girl was the first up and exploded from around the corner. Shree, followed by two men: Tariq, her boyfriend, the Cuck, and a fucking handsome one at that, and finally the last roommate Vitalie, Gemma's boyfriend.

Now I'd seen them all.

I saw Shree's beaming smile for the third time. She had no fear of what I'd seen nor what I might say.

But then again we were standing butt nekkid except for our boots (and my mask) with Kitty leashed by his balls. And I felt free, overwhelmed with possibilities.

"Awww... our Kitty has an owner!" Gemma said.

I took a guess and headed for the kitchen. Leading Kitty right past the three, and making sure they got a good look at my flexing, plugged ass.

I heard soft expressions of delight and amazement as we passed. It turned out to be the right move: the kitchen was bright with sunlight coming through the sliding glass door to the backyard.

During the reign of Grandmother, the backyard, like the others that it neighbored was probably an award winning vegetable patch, but now had been reclaimed by nature which wasn't a bad thing: wildflowers grew in profusion, massive clusters of dill and asparagus had gone to seed. The backyards didn't allow much more space than the fronts, but they did offer privacy by way of wood fences, warped and lopsided with age.

"Go, boy!" I said to Kitty.

He picked an inflorescence of wild chamomile to relieve himself. His golden stream sparkled in the sunlight as he doused the flower faces.

He sighed in relief. I still held the leash.

I looked to the neighboring houses, anyone looking from the second floor windows would be able to see. Just then, I saw the roomies and their girls watching from the sliding door and the rear window.

I suddenly felt the urge to pee.

There's something obscene to see a man naked in public, relieving himself, to see a woman do it is on a whole other level.

There was an old iron bench, that they'd fucked on, over grown with Tall Fescue. The bench let out a resounding ding as I mounted it with my boots, and anchored them on the seat and stood, ass to the house, feet apart.

Kitty's stream dwindled and he shook the last of the droplets from his tip. I bent to lean on the back of the bench an let my stream flow. It drenched it in a strong stenched torrent.

"Kitty!" I said and gestured between my legs.

He smiled eagerly and attended to me more than imagined.

He buried his face in my ass and lapped at the stream, dribbling down his chin and along his front.

"Mmmm, good Kitty!" I moaned euphorically as my bladder emptied. I gave it a few second to drip and dry and swung around, stepping awkwardly down.

We kissed. I tasted myself. I took his face in my hand and I became possessed by the gnaga spirit and licked his face.

We were surrouned as we entered the house again.

"What is your name, babe?" Gemma asked me.

I looked at Kitty.

"Mistress Brittney!" I said. "Now come on, Hunny, we have some training to do!"

And I led him back down into the basement.