#like i cant even make a 'live in her head rent free' joke as this is just getting concerning | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nikkirammer · 8 years ago

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A Maid's Tail

Domestic Assistant Wanted

"Domestic Assistant wanted to help care for six bedroom estate on lower west end. We are a career minded couple with a teenager that visits periodically, responsibilities would include cleaning, cooking, occasionally cleaning our cars (not strictly necessary, but would be a bonus). The occasional massage might also be requested. A uniform is required and will be provided.

Pay to be negotiated in person but will be paid in cash at the end of each week and your taxes can be handled by our accountant for free. Live in is an option if we find you to be a good fit for us after a trial period. Open mind and communication skills are required. Please don't send an email if you're not able to fulfill those requirements."

Kimberly Williams wheeled back from the computer after sending her email, combing her long straw blonde hair back with an audible sigh as she looked towards the cupboards, already knowing full well what she'd find there; nothing.

Like the pool of past due bills cascading down her desk into the trash, she could feel a rumbling tension in her stomach when something above her creaked. Old man Vickers was awake it seemed. It wouldn't be long before her landlord would come down to bug her about rent, but what the hell was she going to say? She'd run out of 'I'm trying' chances long ago and 'just one more week' was probably out the window too.

Kim scrubbed her face with her palm, muttering, "forty and broke. What a fucked up joke, it wasn't like I picked up the weed and took a toke." It was barely six in the morning and alone in her little one bedroom apartment she may as well have been on the moon for all the support she was going to get. A less cynical soul would have called it the starving artists' life. Idiots who didn't understand just how much starvation could suck the interest - and will- to create art in the first place. Her stomach rumbled quietly to remind her of that very problem.

"Bah." She hoped out of her chair and wandered over to the fridge, finding a jar of pickle water in the bottom shelf. The only thing left in the old Vlassic jar were some seeds and the green water used to keep them fresh. Her bright green eyes lingered on the jar dubiously. Really? Was she really going to do this?

Kim brought the jar to her lips and held her breath. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine vegetable juice or something- just as the liquid touched her lips her computer chirped its lonesome sound of an email received.

It couldn't be. Could it? The ad had been posted less than ten minutes ago- she wandered over to the computer on shaky knees. Her brows raised when she saw the subject: "RE: Domestic Assistant - 40/S/F" Kim wasn't one to pray but her mind belted out a quick Hail Marry from what she could remember of it as she clicked through the interface to open the email.

"Miss Williams,

I hope you are well and thank you for the kind words about being specific; it's a skill that's served me quite well during my time in the Army and now in my civilian life. I didn't expect such a quick response but your enthusiasm makes me think we'd get along quite well.

If you're not busy, I'd like to meet you with my wife before I have to leave for work. There's a cafe on Oak street we usually have breakfast and we'd be delighted for you to join us so we can discuss the preliminaries of the job and see if we're a good fit.

Just let me know!

Elliot McKenna"

Her heart slammed against her ribs like the beating of a war drum, adrenaline surging through her as she mashed the reply button as quickly as she could. She went to type but realized she was still clutching the pickle jar. She threw it over her shoulder without thinking- dammit! - but there was work to be had! She could clean it up later-

This was too important.

Kim's fingers flew over the keys, clacking out a reply that she hoped sounded professional and intelligent. Occasionally she muttered her thoughts into the ether. "Good house keeper. No references. . ." certainly not her own apartment "if you're not satisfied, don't pay me. . . Happy to meet you, thank you. Be there soon. . ." and send.

Pop.

The screen on her computer plunged into darkness. The power LED on the front of the tower likewise went dark. She looked over to her nightstand to find her alarm clock as black as her monitor. The power was completely cut off.

Instead of pouting or cursing, though, she through her fist into the air in victory. "Fuck you, Agro-Power! I have a job interview!"

Kimberly spun the chair, hopped up- her left foot splashed into the wet spot left by the pickle juice. It was going to be a day of mixed blessings, it seemed. . . "Fuck."

To say that Oak street had a bustle about it would have been a disservice to the rest of downtown- the modest two lane avenue overlooked most of the downtown area near the bus station, making it something of a people watching destination. What it lacked in high profile luster, it made up for in rustic charm with little mom-and-pop stores selling everything from antique furniture to old records. It was a hipster's paradise, but for the most part only collectors frequented the quiet street.

Kim liked to think it was because of the economy, but the reality of it was that most people simply couldn't afford to be collectors themselves and so only the more affluent shopped here. Of course, the little cafe in the middle of the strip could have easily confused people to that truth; dozens of college age kids were sharing stories in the open air patio over espresso and finger foods as she trundled by in her old Pontiac Grand Prix.

She'd done her best to clean up before she left, yet something in the back of her mind kept nagging at her even while she slid into a parking place. Her hair was tucked neatly into a pony tail, bangs looped slightly to frame her face in its best light. She was still relatively young looking- and some might say acting- but with a little touch of make up and lip gloss, she actually managed to pull off the 'I can still be 30' look to a T.

Kim glanced around to make sure no one was watching and rolled down her window. After another glance around she climbed out of the car, silently praying her thick ass wouldn't accidentally dislodge the lock on the door again. It'd taken her hours and several wire coat hangars to get it to lock consistently and she didn't have time to fuss with it now. Once out, she smoothed down her blouse and checked her reflection in the window.

"You can do it. . ." she whispered to her reflection as she took another second to get her blouse to lay just right over her generous bust. Not too flashy, just a glimpse of cleavage; respectable to the end. The way it hitched in around her waist a little added to her curves as well, giving her a slight but appreciable hourglass silhouette, leading smoothly into her tight but comfortable jeans. Everything about it said modern, independent woman; at least that's what Kim heard. "Chin up, smile." She checked her teeth, licked her lips and turned towards the cafe.

She'd been to enough job interviews to know what to say, how to say it and what lines they always wanted to hear- she was prepared in every way she could be. The sooner she got the job, the sooner she started making money, the sooner she could get back to writing and- this time- hit it big. Just that little bit farther. . .

Kimberly stepped into the little eatery looking about for anyone that looked like he might have been a military veteran. Amongst the college kids, it should have been shooting fish in a barrel, but much to her bemusement, everyone looked as though they belonged there and since she hadn't bothered to explain what she was going to be wearing. . .

"You're an idiot."

After a few seconds of glancing around she approached the counter, checking with the barista to see if anyone a bit on the older side had come in. "Sure," she said. "Talking about El and Sylvia? Yeah, right over there."

"Thanks." Kim turned to the dining area to find the table and almost stopped mid stride when she saw the woman sitting alone- bronze skinned, dignified with a tiny streak of grey brushing the tips of her shoulder length brown hair. She couldn't have been more than thirty, Kim guessed, judging by her sharp features and vague air of exotic heritage Her gaze was turned to whatever she was reading on her tablet, but even at a distance Kim could see her mismatched eyes; the right eye green and the left mocha brown. She looked perfectly at home here with her copper polyester blouse and frilly lace around her modest bust.

The real surprise, though, came when Kim approached. The woman, Sylvia, looked up at her and for just the briefest of seconds there was a flash- curiosity- demand- judgment. Just as quickly it was gone leaving a chill in the air between them. Kim put on her best smile, offered her hand. "Hello there, I'm Kimberly? About the housekeeper?"

Her voice was soft and airy yet somehow able to wear down Kim as though she was nothing with a few simple words- "My husband will be along."

Kim pursed her lips slightly. "All right, ice queen." of course, she couldn't very well say that. "Sure, mind if I sit?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

"All right, then. . ." It was time for a different approach. "Ah, mind if I ask what you're reading? You seemed pretty engrossed."

Sylvia looked up briefly, her gaze swept Kim in a shark-like, dismissive manner as if she could read the older woman's entire life history by glance. Finally she turned her tablet off, intertwined her fingers and leaned forward, pressing her breasts right up against the lip of the table. Kim couldn't help but glance. "No offense, but I think we might be wasting each others time."

"I'm sorry?"

"Neither of us like liars. Your email said you were forty and that you had experience." She canted her head slightly as if demanding an explanation. Kim reached for her wallet. Some part of Sylvia's attitude made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, some part of her was enticed by the idea of a strong woman's presence. . .

The other, more rational parts of her mind, told her that this bitch was going to be a problem. She handed over her ID card with a wry smile. "I'll take that as a compliment, thank you." She smiled when Sylvia held the card up to check the picture against her. After a few seconds she slid the card back towards Kim. "Still not convinced?"

"I'm warming to the idea. . ."

"Score one for the home team," Kim mused. A presence approaching her from behind bristled her nerves just as the woman with the mismatched eyes looked over Kim's shoulder. She smirked a bit.

"Elliot, this is Kimberly."

After a moment Kim turned to face the man she'd been trading emails with, already offering her hand with the most professional air she could muster for herself. The sales pitch she'd prepared mentally died on her lips, though, when she saw the tall, powerfully built man. "Christ, you didn't say you were a Greek god. . ."

It wasn't often that Kim was caught off-guard, at least that was the lie she told herself time and again as life threw one curve ball after another. But standing in front of the tall, broad shouldered Elliot McKenna, the forty year old woman's knees were trembling like a teenager on prom night- even so, she managed her best smile. "So, did you have to pay to have your name changed when you turned eighteen or was it just a happy accident?"

A flash of confusion rippled over his bronzed face, yet the way his features crunched up in bemusement only managed to swell his presence. His toned body was barely contained in the creases of his immaculate blue dress shirt and traditional khakis, couple that with a haircut that accented the best parts of his forty something years. "What's that?"

Kim paused for the briefest second and gave her best winning smile, "well, you know how in olden times, a person's last name reflected someone's trade?"

"I didn't, but go on," Eliot offered a good natured smile.

"Ah, well. . ." she cleared her throat, her courage vanishing under the weight of the man's warmth. She couldn't risk this job with one of her stupid jokes; she needed a different tact. "I was going to suggest you were probably born Elliot Centurion after the Roman officers. . . You know, military and all."

It sounded lame to her ears even before it left her mouth but Elliot gave her a faintly reassuring smile, motioning to the table. When they sat down, he introduced Sylvia with a motion. She'd gone back to her tablet, though, clearly more interested in whatever she was reading. When it was clear she wasn't going to participate, Elliot looked to Kim. "So you mentioned you didn't have any experience housekeeping professionally. . ."

"Ah, no. No, but you'll find I'm a very fast learner. I once- uh. . ." she cleared her throat. "Like I said, I'd be willing to work for a week for you, no obligation to pay me if you're not satisfied."

His gaze swept over her casually, thoughtful. "What were you going to say?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just rambling- I do that when I'm a little nervous." Kim tried for her best winning smile even though she didn't believe it in the least. There was no way someone like this would just hire anyone. He was successful and cool enough that he didn't have to settle for anything but the best.

As if reading her thoughts, he cupped his glass of coffee and drummed his fingers against the side, still assessing Kim. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than strictly necessary, perhaps measuring something in his mind- she straightened subconsciously to try meet his expectations; she arched her back a bit to really emphasize her generous bust, smiling faintly. Pride had gone out the window with the damned pickle jar.

"I'll be honest," he said, "I'm not sure what you would think of our requirements. . . You see, I have a thing about people telling the truth and speaking their mind. So, when I ask someone what they mean, I kind of hope they'll give me the respect I give them."

"Well, that was unexpected. . ." The look he wore wasn't frightening in any way, just firm, but something tingled in the depths of Kim's soul; she'd been around enough artists to know consistently weak people when she met them. But Elliot?

He was a different breed altogether.

Kim actually had to work herself up to meet his gaze, finding it warm and even slightly playful, not at all what she would have expected. "Ah- well, sure. Fair enough. . ." What was the point in lying? "A couple of years ago I forged a CV, references and a diploma to apply for a chemical engineering job. I actually got it, too. . ."

Elliot arched a brow. Even Sylvia glanced up, curious.

"I ah, I held it for about a week and a half."

"You got found out?" Elliot sipped his coffee.

Kim felt a familiar heat rising on her cheeks. "No, I completely wussed- erm. That is to say, I decided I was better off not doing it. I was keeping up with the project, I mean I spent a lot of nights studying. But in the end, I just didn't feel right."

It was Sylvia who broke the momentary silence, "what was your team working on?"

"Ah, bio-plastics using a crystalline structure. They were meant for linings in things like tankers. They were making some pretty awesome strides, too, but-"

"No, see. The right answer is 'I had an NDA' and can't talk about it."

Kim's cheeks flushed even hotter.

"I don't think this is going to work," the woman with the dual colored eyes went back to her tablet, having passed her judgment. Elliot gave her a brief glance before he looked to Kim with an apologetic expression.

Was that it? Really?

When no one said anything, Kim held her breath. Another beat passed and no one spoke. She shook her head. "That's hardly fair, I barely know you, but-"

"There's a certain level of discretion we'd need from a potential housekeeper, miss Williams." Elliot said over the rim of his cup. "I'm afraid she's right, I just don't want to have to wonder if-"

"It was public knowledge." Kim lied. "They were working with grants from the local college and humanitarian agencies. The idea was to develop a cheaper coating for use in third world nations for stuff like biological waste." The blonde spread her hands on the table. "I write a lot more stories than I tell, so when I say that not only can I do the job but I can keep my mouth shut about it, you can be assured I can. . ."

Elliot leaned back in his chair looking at her for a long moment. The air was so thick she could have strangled it and she found herself wanting to- she needed this job too badly to just let it slide by. But in his eyes he saw a lingering doubt. Even before he said "I think Sylvia and I will talk it over and get back to you, miss Williams. We still have a few other emails to go through."

"S- Sure. Sure, I understand." Kim exhaled a steadying breath as she rose. "Ah, I'm nearby if you decide you want another meeting in short order,"

"We won't," Sylvia supplied without looking up. Elliot leaned towards her and murmured which met with a sharp glance from his wife.

Reluctantly and as though her entire body was made of lead, Kim hauled herself up out of the chair. She pushed it in neatly and made sure to thank them both again for their time on the off chance it would do any good. Her mind was swimming with doubts and fears when she turned to leave- so much so that she didn't even see the man eating his breakfast in a chair behind her. She bumped into him causing him to drop his fork. Without thinking, she bent to pick it up and muttered an apology on her way by.

What the hell was she going to do for food? For gas for the Pontiac? God, for rent?! Kim hugged herself, rubbing her arms as her mind worked furiously to come up with ideas. But before she made it back to her car she heard Sylvia's firm voice behind her. "Kim."

"Yeah?"

The woman strolled up to her with a folded scrap of paper. Their gazes met, a flicker of annoyance in Sylvia's. She offered the paper. "Be here in an hour. I'll show you around."

Kim blinked.

"There's a uniform, I'll give it to you at the house-"

"A- Are you sure about this? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but-"

"Don't interupt me. You're going to have to learn how to conduct yourself, but if it doesn't work out after a week, I'm not going to pay you, simple as that. That's what you offered, right?"

"Y- Yes, I did! Thank you so much. I can't wait to get started.

"I'm sure," Sylvia said, already turning away. Kim couldn't help but notice that subtle flash of curiosity, of interest, that lit those mismatched eyes for the briefest moment before the 30 something looking woman looked away. It wasn't Elliot's appraising gaze. It was the gaze of a triumphant panther who'd just caught herself a cougar.

Kim bit into her lower lip in the wake of the younger woman's retreat into the cafe, wondering just what she was getting herself into with this couple. More than that, she realized it wasn't just the relief of having food money that warmed her spirits; she was genuinely curious to see what would happen with this woman. It seemed like it was going to be a day of possibilities.

Monday - Day 1: Training

There was a lot to be said about the countryside and it's natural beauty. Most of it involved descriptors like 'boring', 'flat', 'bland' and Kim's personal favorite: 'quiet'. Having grown up on a quiet stretch of country road, the stillness was familiar in the way an old friend was. Unfortunately life had taken her away from wide open fields, miles of wood fencing and calm of rustling grass. It was only on the lonely stretch of road did she really miss it.

It had been so long...

Kim leaned back, taking in the warm sun glinting from the rows of junk cars and farm equipment that dotted the sides of the road in front of homes older than she was. Idly, her thoughts turned to her new employers.

There was something to Sylvia and Elliot, a strange kind of dichotomy that made them appear as if they were two sides of the same coin; both were firm and demanding in their own way. Sylvia was kind of a bitch, but maybe there was a story behind that.

She'd soon find out, one way or the other. Kim followed the directions she'd been given through the old roads until she rounded a bend near a copse of pines. The road dipped into an unassuming property with cobblestone walls running along the street at waist level, interspersed with stone pillars every few dozen feet. Back from the road was a large house that looked as though it had been uprooted from the plantation era and dropped in a sea of golden grass. Off-white and sprawling for dozens of feet in every direction, the home had a wide walk around porch ringing a stately two story southern design with wood pillars supporting an awning over a brick patio. Though the property was clean and well maintained, the gravel path leading from the street to the patio made for an eye sore.

The hunter green BMW parked neatly beside the patio, however, gave Kim the impression that the road was a work in progress. As her Pontiac trundled up the drive, she became acutely aware of this strange new turn her life was taking; for the first time in a long time she actually had a sense of looming dread. Working for someone else was always a toss up with none of the freedoms or securities (and insecurities) of being self employed. The fact of the matter was that she hadn't sold a story in months, though. This wasn't about pride any more, this was about basic survival.

"You can do this... Just put on a smile and pretend you give a shit."

Following the time honored tradition of broke people and the mechanically inept, Kim climbed out of her driver's side window, straightened out her blouse and bounded up the porch. She reached up to give a knock on the wide double doors, but Sylvia beat her to the punch by opening it. When Kim found herself looking at those mismatched eyes, she faltered. "Uh, hi."

"You're early," she said flatly.

"I thought it'd be a good idea in case I got lost."

Sylvia looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, Kim wondered what she'd be like if she smiled more; she would've been pretty beautiful. It also meant something had happened at some point to make her the miserable tart she was now. At least that was Kim's uneducated opinion. "Yes," Sylvia muttered as she turned away, leaving the door open for the new housekeeper to follow. "I think it'll fit you. Maybe a little tight around the midsection, but you can loose some weight."

Tch. Kim licked her lips, smoothly changing the subject. "You have a lovely place..." At least that much was true, the place was wide open and spacious, packed with furniture suiting the era in which it was built with quasi-Victorian couches, chairs, a wide bar separating the kitchen from the dining room. The plush carpeting that tracked the floor was a deep ruby color that stood out like blood against the soft ash wood flooring underneath.

Walking behind Sylvia, Kim couldn't help but notice she had lithe curves; a dancer's body wrapped in Bitch of the Month Club t-shirt and jeans. It was a shame, really, Kim thought idly, watching her little body stroll gracefully through the hall. She had a firm ass in skin tight jeans, unlike Kim who was thicker in almost every way. Not quite fat, but definitely... soft compared to Sylvia. "Stop it."

"My husband's design. He... liked Georgia." She cast a glance back, perhaps sensing Kim's gaze on her ass. She didn't seem to mind.

Maybe she could salvage this. "You don't sound too thrilled. Did something happen?"

"Not really." They rounded the hallway into a massive observatory with bay windows overlooking a well tended garden and plenty of hanging ferns that dangled from hooks around the room. In the center of the semi-circular room was an easel with a little stool and a smattering of paints across a tired drop cloth under it all.

Then she saw it. Hanging from a metal coat hanger in the back of the room was a simple black dress with white trim. It was short sleeved with a pleated skirt and deep cut V in the chest area that was filled in with a flowing weave of white fabric. A frilly white half-apron was tied around the waist, hanging loose from the outfit and holding on to a pair of black cuffs that matched the dress perfectly.

Kimberly blinked. "Uh..."

Sylvia crossed her arms looking at her. A wolfish smirk crossed her lips. "What's the matter?"

"W- Well, I... Really?" She eyed the uniform. "I mean, really?"

"If you're not interested in the job-"

"I didn't say that!" It came out faster than she intended and Kim blushed, looking away. "I just didn't expect you and your husband meant a real maid's uniform."

Sylvia's dual-tone gaze turned to the uniform briefly. "There's more to it," she looked to Kim. "We have very specific expectations."

Kim was almost afraid to ask. "Like...?"

"The house must be clean top to bottom daily. You'll be expected to cook dinner, get groceries, do the dusting and the laundry, clean the floors and turn down the bed twice weekly. Right now, we'd like you here Tuesday through Saturday but that might change as... We decide." After a moment she sauntered over to the uniform, smug in her apparent control over Kim's reaction to the turn of events. She knew Kim couldn't turn this job down, that she'd agree to pretty much anything to keep it.

Strangely, some deeper part of her didn't want to resist. Kim licked her lips, eying the uniform.

"Now, when you're here, I expect you to be in uniform. Complete uniform." Then she turned the hanger around. Kim's breath caught in her throat. Attached to a piece of cardboard was a hay colored head band with black cat ears on it in the middle of the card was a frilly white choker with a little bell on it and a black bowtie at the back. If Kim had thought the uniform was strange, miles out of her comfort zone, then the tail was a trip to the moon by comparison. The thick, bushy black tail was probably as long as her arm, but the method by which it was meant to stay 'on'- more accurately 'in' made Kim blush a furious crimson. It was a small butt plug not much bigger at its widest part than her two fingers put together.

Still...

Kim's breath came in quicker sips as she stared at the little plug. Could she really do this? Her heart punched into her throat as she thought about the bills waiting for her at home. When Kim didn't immediately respond, Sylvia closed the distance with a casual strut, holding the uniform between them so she looked up at Kim over the smooth fabric. Her mismatched eyes flickered with amusement and mischief. "Well?"

"Uh-" Kim swallowed. "Cat got my tongue?" That earned her a smile. She relaxed a little. "W- Can I ask something? What happened to your last maid?"

Sylvia looked at her oddly, shook her head and cracked another faint smile. "You'd be the first... We just moved here a few months ago."

"Ah-... s- so."

"So." She said with finality.

Kim sucked in a long breath as she considered the uniform and the woman holding it. This was strange territory, nothing like she had imagined in fact. Her entire body bristled with goosebumps and the heat of uncertainty. Absently she became aware she was sinking her teeth into her lower lip, wondering just where this strange, exotic chapter of her life might take her. "The bills, too. Can't forget about the bills."

Of course, it wasn't entirely the bills that made her say, "Uh do you have a bathroom? S- So I can change?"

Sylvia grinned slyly. "Right this way."

A little while later, Kimberly was standing in front of the full length mirror beside the bathtub, blushing deeply while her reflection stared right back at her in disbelief. Her lightly tanned flesh was coated in goose bumps and her own awareness of every brush of air over her bare legs made her all the more conscious of her being exposed.

Sylvia had been right, the maid's outfit was a little tight in the stomach area, but the cut of the fabric around her chest only accented her generous bust, making her look fuller and proudly displaying her cleavage behind the thin white veil between either side of the low cut top section. All this, of course, made the satin choker more pronounced. Even the bell attached to it seemed to jingle a little louder than it had when she was putting it on.

The tawny color of the headband blended in with her natural hair color pretty smoothly leaving only the cat ears poking up through her blonde mane- she put her hands on her hips and turned her body slightly this way and that, checking that the length of the skirt was right. Her long legs had always made it hard to find appropriate skirts; they were inevitably too long or way too short. This particular dress seemed to lean towards the 'too short' side, stopping just a hair above mid-thigh.

Then there was the tail...

Kim licked her lips, glancing at it uneasily. She hadn't mustered the courage to try it on, though she had held it under her skirt to see how it would look- but with no belts or sashes to hold it in place, there would be no way to fake it.

God, how badly did she want this job that she had even considered it? She blushed deeper still, the fine hairs on her forearms bristling to full attention as she eyed her reflection, then the tail. Herself, then the tail. She wasn't even sure it was an issue of self respect any longer. It wasn't like she had anything to be ashamed of...

No, nothing at all...

It was part of the job. Yes, that made perfect sense when taken into context- Kim's heart fluttered as she looked at her reflection once more. Her breathing came sharp and short. Tiny sips of air. She could do this, she could be the best damn maid these people had ever seen, just like she had done when she pretended to be a snake wrangler when she had been doing research for one of her books.

Then again, two people almost died, maybe that was a bad example.

"Oh, shut up," she whispered to the empty room. In her sudden rush of irritation she plucked the bottle of KY jelly from the sink and the plug end of the tail. She was going to be the best damn cat... maid... thing she could be.

At least that was the intention; turning the little glass plug over between her fingers gave her a whole new shock. She was actually going to do this, she was going to submit her anus to strangers for a paycheck... Her shoulders felt heavy with this thought, the shame of being brought to this. Yet, there was something else to it; she wasn't being forced into anything... Sylvia might have been a bitch, but she wasn't in the room trying to force the plug up Kim's ass. She had an expectation. A demand.

Kim bit her lower lip, eying the mirror. She couldn't let her employer down, now could she? Kim swallowed down her misguided pride and carefully slathered the little plug with the silicone based lube, then eased her panties down enough to coat her rosebud. At the touch, her skin rippled with a wash of naughtiness. The chilly lubricant only made her quiver more.

She was really going to do this... Holy shit, this was not what she had expected. Nibbling on her lower lip hard enough to turn it white, she massaged her fingers around her most forbidden entry, circling her rosebud with new curiosity she'd not felt before. Curiosity lead to a creeping sense of wrongness and shame- yet she persisted, working little circles around her sphincter muscles... Gingerly, she pressed her lubed up finger against her asshole. Her gaze turned to the mirror reflection. Cheeks flushed, nipples hard as glass even through her bra and the uniform.

Oh, this was something she shouldn't have done. "No," she told herself. "No, stop before you-" but it was too late, her finger's pressure eventually won over the resistance of her body and slid. Kim sucked in a breath, arching her back slightly, tilting her head so she faced the ceiling while the new sensation rippled through her. It wasn't unpleasant, at all. Still she struggled with her breathing as she circled her inner muscles for the first time, reveling in the private naughtiness of the experience.

In a stranger's bathroom, dressed like a maid, Kim was fingering herself in the ass... Oh, if she had known sooner... She stole a glance to the door, then pushed another finger against her butt. This time the pinch and pressure were much easier to overcome and before she knew it she had both fingers in her ass and no breath in her lungs. She planted a hand on the mirror for balance, clutching the tail. She experimented a tiny bit, spreading her fingers, sliding them in and out, testing the limits of her new found pleasure before she drew out. The real show, she quietly promised herself, would have to take place at home...

After a few short breaths, Kim brought the tail plug to her ass, symbolically and literally 'sealing the deal' on her employment. The little bell at her throat jingled cheerfully as she pushed the plug in. She exhaled a low sight when the base of the plug mated firmly with the space between her cheeks. She stood half bent over for several seconds, getting accustomed to the feeling of the fuzzy tail tickling her. She was panting softly when she looked to her mirror reflection, she mouthed the words "Bad kitty."

Walking with the plug was a new and interesting experience- having that feeling of fullness was only the beginning though. Sylvia took her on a tour of the entire property, up stairs, downstairs, over every square foot of hardwood floor in the house- and there was plenty of it- and then out around the perimeter of the building. By the time they got back to the doorstep, Sylvia's attitude had relaxed a bit and Kim had become accustomed to the sensation of the plug, and the fine hairs brushing her inner thigh and ass cheeks.

Even accustomed to it, Kim was never able to get entirely comfortable. Sylvia noticed, too. As they walked into the house, she stopped outside of the kitchen, "Make us some iced tea, would you?"

"Uh- Yeah, sure."

Sylvia stopped her. "When you're on duty, you'll refer to me as mistress; as in 'As you wish, mistress', or 'I'd love to, mistress.'"

Kim blinked, heat flushing her face. "A- All right... Mistress."

"Good," Sylvia touched her lower back, ushering her into the kitchen. "Something else you're going to find." She leaned over the bar between the dining room and the kitchen. "You're going to have to get used to... our expectations." She smiled when Kim glanced back at her. She had a nice smile.

Kim filled the glasses and slid one over, vaguely aware of how hungry she still was; skipping that jar of pickle juice was a bad idea apparently. With a smile she didn't believe in, Kim leaned against the bar. "Ah... speaking of those-" Kim's voice fell when Sylvia put her finger to the maid's lips.

"You'll learn," she said firmly. "In the meantime, I want the house cleaned up, start with dusting and then you can make dinner." She leaned forward a little, glancing down at Kim's cleavage. She met the cat-maid's gaze and smirked wryly, causing her to blush again.

"O- Okay... Anything else?"

"Not for now, no. There should be plenty of food to cook with- we had fish last night, so find something else for us." The younger woman glanced at Kim's cleavage again before she got up and turned away. "I'm going to paint. If you need anything, I'll be in the observatory."

"Ah... All right, uh, mistress." Kim fidgeted a little. "When did you want to eat?"

"Mmm, good. Maybe you are a quick learner. Elliot will be home at six thirty, have dinner ready by quarter after six."

Kim looked after her. Absently, she heard herself say "Y- Yes, mistress."

The rest of the day proceeded as one might expect; cleaning was straightforward once she found the duster and cabinet with cleaning supplies. Every inch of the ten room house was as immaculate as she could make it without spending hours on her hands and knees. It was cathartic in a way. Kim let her imagination roam over some new story ideas while she cleaned, stopped only when she had to ask permission to enter the bedrooms or go to the bathroom- which with the plug always seemed as though it was a constant need.

That part of the job was going to take some real getting used to.

Around five she was finishing up with the dusting when she approached one of the smaller side rooms, a kind of guest bedroom that overlooked the ten acre property from the front of the building. She came across a small dress form with a half made dress clinging to it, but what struck her most was the large sapphire necklace hanging from the neck stump. The gem had to have been the size of a bottle top, ringed with what she presumed were diamonds and set in silver or white gold- maybe even platinum. Good grief, these people were loaded. She dusted it off carefully, afraid to touch it for fear it might slap her with a law suit or something for smudging it and then headed downstairs.

Kim plodded down the steps in her sneakers to find Sylvia standing at the edge of the hall with her canvas smock on, she looked at Kim with a mix of amusement and thoughtful concern. "Finding everything all right?"

"Yeah- uh. Yes, Mistress. No problems. If..." she grit her teeth. She knew better than this, but somehow Kim got the impression it needed to be said anyway. "If you'd like to check over my work-"

"I don't think that's necessary, do you?"

"Not really, but I thought I'd mention it."

"Tell me something..." Sylvia prowled closer, "How do you like this arrangement?"

"It's only been a day. I mean... You know, it's fun and all? I can't say I've ever done anything like this."

The younger woman smiled a private little grin. "Good. I think I was right about you, but I guess we'll see."

Kim's brow knitted beneath her cat ears. "Right about what?"

The younger woman stepped up beside Kim and ran her hand down her back in one slow stroke that intentionally traced the lines of her back, her delicate fingertips running along her spine. In a low, throaty voice, she said "we're going to train you how to be a proper maid and a proper... well..." her hand slid lower, over Kim's butt. The older woman straightened- Sylvia took it one step further; she gave a gentle tug on Kim's tail.

"Ah-" Kim hissed air through her teeth. Her choker bell jingled playfully at her sudden shift in weight.

"Good kitten." Sylvia patted her lower back and strode past. "Don't disappoint us..."

Kim clenched inwardly, letting out a soft sigh and wondering- not for the first time- what the hell she had gotten herself mixed up in.

After the incident in the hall, Kim kept an eye- and ear- out for the tell tale creaking of the flooring and stairs while she made dinner. It had been years since she had cooked anything more than hamburgers or scrambled eggs, so maybe 'made dinner' was a bit of an overstatement.

In the spirit of everyone who had ever tried to run a marathon with a pack a day habit and twenty extra pounds, Kim built up a triple layer lasagna made with hamburger, green peppers and onions- before she realized that white box she'd seen wasn't cheese, but in fact, was cream cheese. Score one for paying attention.

She blamed the lack of food in her stomach; the growing headache and shakes were starting to wear on her, making it hard to focus. Of course, that was easily remedied- a little 'taste testing' and she'd quietly munched up a quarter of the beef in the recipe, making for a bland and lean lasagna. Kim bit her lower lip as she fished through the cupboard looking for ways to fix it.

What a clusterfuck- she had no business in the kitchen unless it involved something so dead simple even a college frat boy could make it. As she filed through the cupboards, she muttered to herself; 'oregano', 'canned mushrooms'...

That could work.

It'd have to.

Elliot pulled in to the drive just as Kim was pulling the sacrilege of Italian culture from the oven. She'd already set two places at the table and done her best to find a suitable wine from the selection they kept- surely random selection was the best method. Next came desert, some pretty simple ice cream dishes that actually looked pretty awesome with their little cherries, whip cream and garnishes of pastel sprinkles.

She had this.

Kim flashes a smile when Elliot walked by the dining room. He stopped, peeked around the arch connecting the room to the hall. "Wow..." He said with a lingering look. It didn't look for a moment like he was eying her table setting. "Hi, Kim."

"Hi- er... Hello. Have a good day?"

"I did, thanks! I'll be down in a bit, that smells good!" With that he trudged upstairs.

Kim went about setting the food out for Sylvia and Elliot, filling their glasses and making sure everything was as good as she could get it. Far from perfect, but the best she could manage. If she lasted the day, she vowed she'd look into some recipes.

When the couple came down to eat, Kim's heart skipped a few beats. She hadn't ever cooked for anyone before, much less in any kind of capacity where it was expected. Boyfriends, girlfriends, they always made their own and Kim liked it that way. Why complicate an easy situation with needless crap about how much her food sucked?

But here she was, doing exactly that.

The two took their places at the table, barely acknowledging Kim as they took up their forks and started to eat. All the while, Kim stood off to the side with her hands clasped demurely in front of her. The cuffs of her uniform hung over her trembling wrists as she awaited the verdict.

She caught Elliot sneaking a gaze at her long, curvy legs as he sipped from his wine. He didn't try to hide it the second time when he looked up to her. "This is good, Kim. Traditional, but 'light'. I saw you cleaned up upstairs, too." he gave a subtle nod of satisfaction. "Sylvia?"

"No complaints from me..." She took a big bite.

"You know that's not what I meant." His voice was a little firmer. "How was she otherwise?"

Sylvia looked up at Kim like an eagle would a mouse, then to her husband. She cleaned her fork off with a wry smirk. "I expect her to be here tomorrow at eight."

"Eight." Elliot echoed then looked up to Kim. "What do you say?"

"I can do eight."

"Good. You can head home if you like, I'll take care of the dishes."

"Ah, are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"Oh, well. Thank you... I made some ice cream dishes, they're in the fridge."

"Oh? This I have to see." The broad shouldered man said as he rose, "Show me?"

Thinking nothing of it, Kim went to the fridge to display her- admittedly modest- deserts. When she went to open the door, however, she felt Elliot's strong presence dwarf hers. His chest touched her back briefly as he leaned down to examine them. Kim's stomach tightened at the closeness, but for all her uncertainties, he was every bit the calm, collected gentleman.

"They look good, kitten." He whispered in her ear. Before she could reply she felt his fingers stroke down her back in the same way Sylvia's had; from the base of her neck down her back. Right to the curve of her grabbable ass. She should have resisted. She should have told him to stop. Oh, but she didn't. The sensation of being wanted and appreciated was something she'd lost long ago, and now not only had she found it, but she'd found it in two separate people.

"Y- you really like this cat... thing... don't you?"

He chuckled in her ear. "Maybe you will too." He eased out of her space with a gentle pat on her lower back.

Secretly, she already knew the answer to that...

So began Kimberly's career as a catgirl maid.

2: Tuesday

Kim stood in front of the mirror in her apartment modeling the uniform, tracing the lines of her thick thigh with a sheer stocking. The beige stockings added a slight touch of class to the outfit, even if they didn't exactly match the black and white color scheme, it accented her light tan such that she didn't feel as self-conscious about how the uniform fit her. She licked her lips, eying her reflection. "Good morning missus McKenna. Mister McKenna." She repeated the line as she had done a few dozen times, trying to get the 'sophisticated' tone right. Rick people liked that kind of stuck up crap and, Kim figured, if she was going to play the part, she'd best do it right. She'd given her voice and appearance plenty of attention over the last twelve hours.

The tail, however, would need its own attention. . .

Heat flashed her cheeks as she picked up the little plug and the bottle of KY she had been given. Even fresh from the shower with what little warm water remained in the tank, Kimberly couldn't stop her body from shivering as she prepared herself for her second day of work.

Her Pontiac trundled up the drive at quarter to eight just as Elliot was emerging from the house with what looked like a contractor's bag. He waited for her to pull up beside his truck, leaning down a bit to meet her eye level and smelling faintly of soap and mouthwash. "Morning, kitten."

"Uh-" Kim stopped herself, cleared her throat. "Good morning, mister McKenna."

That seemed to catch him off guard. He smiled a little and gave her a reaffirming nod; approval. Kim kept her smile hidden, just barely. Encouraged by this turn of events, Elliot gently stroked her hair back a few times and smirked. Kim's teeth sunk into her lower lip, not entirely sure what to do- his touch was warm, decisive, confident like he knew it was okay. . . She was also his employee, did that give her the right to say no? They looked at each other, neither of them speaking for a moment as they fell into their new roles, he gave her hair another long stroke and patted her upper back. "I'll see you when I get home, keep up the good work."

"I will," she whispered. Of course she had the right to say no- she didn't want to. As she watched him get in his pickup and pull out, she slumped back in the driver seat and sighed into her bangs. It was the most physical contact she'd had with another human being in a year or more, between these two she had quickly picked up on something she'd lost sight of in her rush to chase her dreams; she'd forgotten to live. "Hmph."

Kim followed her standard Gran Prix evacuation procedure- climbing through the open window and hoping the door didn't fall off. As she climbed out, though, she bumped her tail plug, sending a wave of new sensations through her entire body. She gripped the roof tightly for a moment, exhaling a sharp breath. "Well. . . This is going to be interesting."

Once she was on level ground, she punched her hands into her coat pockets and jaunted up the stairs. The low heels she was wearing clacked softly against the wood, reminding her just how uncomfortable they were compared to her sneakers- the things she was already giving up for this job. . .

She gave a knock on the door. No response. Another knock was likewise met with silence, so she went around to the back door, getting brushed with every blade of wet grass she could possibly find along the way. When she got up the steps, she understood why there was no answer at the door; Sylvia was making breakfast in the kitchen with music blaring. Her white bath robe was hanging loose from her shoulders and completely open in front. She wasn't ashamed of displaying her toned body, that much was becoming apparent. Kim waved at her and the younger woman let her in.

"Good morning!" Kim tried to say over the bleating of Journey from the under counter radio. "Where can I put my coat?"

Sylvia looked at her oddly, but there was something in her smirk. . . "What?" She leaned forward and her robe slid open just a little more giving Kim a brief flash of her pert breast. Kim noted she seemed to be an avid fan of trimming her pubic region, too. . . All this in the flash of an instant before the catgirl maid looked away, clearing her throat as a fresh wave of heat warmed her cheeks. It wasn't like she didn't enjoy the sight of a human body, but good God, where was the modesty here?

"She's doing this on purpose. . ." Kim removed her coat and pointed at it. The woman pointed to a peg on the wall for it before she returned to the kitchen, swaying her lithe body like a viper preparing to strike. Kim watched with no small amount of envy; she had never been overweight, but she'd never been as thin and toned as her employer either. Now, forty years old, it didn't seem likely to happen either. . . No, her 'gifts' had never been physical ones- unless one considered big breasts a 'gift'. "Bah."

The entire house smelled of French toast and eggs, undercut by the teasing scent of bacon that set Kim's mouth watering instantly. Her stomach was quick to remind her that she hadn't eaten since last night and joined her headache in its protest of her treatment. She couldn't go on like this, but she didn't have much of a choice; the life of a starving artist tended to put emphasis on the 'starving' and less the 'art' part of the equation.

Even so, she'd been in worse situations; at least she had a job- one that might have actually been kind of 'fun' if she could eat. . . She rolled her eyes, refocusing herself and heading upstairs, promising herself she'd find a way to sneak a few nibbles here and there- hell, if it came to and there were absolutely no other options, there was always the sandwiches offered by the rescue mission. Yeah, that'd be a sight; show up down to the poverty line dressed like a French maid with ears and a tail. She sighed to herself, muttering a quiet entreaty to whatever god might be listening. "Just need to make it to pay day. . . Please."

Hunger wasn't the only issue, there was gas to worry about, too- "Stop." she commanded. It wouldn't do any good to debate these kinds of things on the job. That was part of the unspoken contract with the three of them. She was supposed to fit their idea of. . . whatever the hell she was supposed to be. It was part of the pay.

Yes. When she was on the job, she was a maid. Cultured. Sophisticated. Not at all prone to foul language, oogling her employers and whining about money. Kim chuckled at that thought as she went to make the bed and clean up the bedroom, once done with that she moved on to the expansive bathroom and then on a whim she checked the guest bedroom- simply trying to be thorough.

The first thing she noticed, aside from the fact that the room was a complete disaster with clothes and bedding strewn about was that the sapphire necklace was gone from the dress form. The dress, however, was not. Kim frowned as she looked over the room from the doorway. "Uh. . . That's not good."

When she trooped downstairs into the cacophony of music, she caught Sylvia's gaze from the dining room. She motioned to turn down the music which earned her a narrow eyed glare. It took every ounce of self control not to call her a bitch to her face- if not for the possibility that she could read lips, Kim absolutely would have. Instead, she motioned Sylvia over with as much emphasis on her posture as she could to make it clear it was serious.

Sylvia wasn't happy. That was fine. She followed Kim upstairs idly while munching her breakfast louder than necessary. She stopped when Kim showed her the room. "You're a terrible housekeeper," she said with an amused expression, poking Kim accusingly. "Am I going to have to spritz you?" Crunch. "The job is pretty simple; keep the place neat and tidy-"

"I didn't even touch this room, yet!" Kim snapped. "Look, uh, Sylvia. There was areally expensive looking necklace on that form last night and now it's gone. All I'm saying-"

"Why," crunch. "Were you eyeballing it, hm? Does the kitten like shinnies?" The younger woman tutted. Then she did something that surprised the hell out of Kim.

She slapped Kim's ass. "Get back to work."

Kim stared after her in disbelief, mouth hanging half open as the last split seconds replayed in her mind over and over. She should have been upset, but. . . but she wasn't. Kim frowned, looking down with a vague sense of shame. She hadn't wanted to be held accountable for something that probably cost more than her damned car.

Instead, Sylvia brushed it off like it was nothing. All fine and good, but what would Elliot say? Kim looked at the bedroom and sighed. It took her almost two hours to finish that one room as she went over every square inch on her hands and knees looking for the missing jewelery. When it didn't turn up, she went back to the master bedroom, then room after room. Nothing was safe or sacred, she pulled couch cushions, moved nightstands and checked every seam in the place that looked as though something could have fallen in.

Dread became a tangible force in her day while each search turned up less and less. Christ, Elliot was going to think she took it and not only would he fire her, he'd have her arrested! How the hell had this job become so stressful all of a sudden? It had to have been somewhere.

Then there was Sylvia popping her head in every half hour asking if she was ever going to get around to starting downstairs. Which of course, she completely forgot about in her searching. By the time she noticed it was nearly quarter to six, she had cleaned out the master and guest bedrooms, done a top to bottom search of the bathroom and the 'poetry' room at the end of the hall which contained wall paper splattered with gaudy poetry of all sorts. The professional massage table, racks with oils and little radio in the corner meant it was next to impossible that the neclace had fallen in somewhere, but Kim still checked.

"Kitteeennnn..." Sylvia's voice echoed through the hall with a singsong lilt. "I shouldn't have to remind you it's nearly dinnertime."

"Y- Yeah." Kim sighed. "Yes, mistress, but uh. . . That necklace-"

"Are you still looking for that? Don't tell me you've spent all day looking for that thing and neglecting your duties. Please don't tell me that's the case."

Kim opened her mouth to protest.

"No, I don't want to hear it. It doesn't look very good on you, not at all." Sylvia's gaze settled on Kim with a sudden wolfishness, a sly little smirk parted her lips. "I think we need to train you more, is that it?"

Kim looked at her like she was dumb. "I'm old enough to-"

"Ah, ah, ah. Stop. Turn around."

Again, Kim stared at her like she was insane. When the woman with the dual colored eyes didn't relent, she let her hands drop by her side and turned to face the window. "Is this why you never had a maid-" her voice backed up when Sylvia pressed her body to Kim's back and wrapped an arm around her stomach.

"I think we have an issue with our communication, kitten." The woman said in a throaty voice that tickled Kim's ear. "I expect our house clean daily. Even if it doesn't need it."

"But the necklace-"

"Daily."

Kim sighed. "Yes, mistress."

"Understand?" Sylvia lingered in her space for a moment longer, just enough to assert herself, even before she ran her fingers down Kim's back. She trailed over the older maid's butt and gave it a firm squeeze. "mm. . ."

Kim tried to pull away but Sylvia held her firmly. "Yeah, I get it- will you please stop that?"

"But it's your best feature." Sylvia replied innocently. She smiled when Kim looked at her. Her smile didn't fade in the least as she continued her dominance game, running her finger down Kim's generous butt. She twirled a little of the maid's tail around her finger and gave a playful tug.

"Sssssshhh" Kim hissed out in a low sigh. Her entire body prickled with heat and the sudden tension of Sylvia's demand. She turned her head away to hide her blush, but it was too late, Sylvia already knew which caused her to blush even more as her heart fluttered in her chest. There's no way she couldn't have.

But she didn't stop pulling. Then a thought struck Kim; if that tail came out she would be out of uniform and thus, she'd loose her job. It wasn't just dominance this bitch wanted- she wanted Kim to know how much she could take from her.

Kim had other plans, though. She clenched her ass tightly, drawing the glass plug in as deep as she imagined it could go. Sylvia noticed the change in resistance, gave another tug. Kim whimpered. "Ah- dammit. . ."

"Bad kitten," the younger woman murmured. "Don't curse in my presence or I'll have to punish you." Even as she pulled the tail a little harder, trying to pull it out. Kim fought by clenching herself tighter around it. It wanted so badly to stretch her opening and come out, but she couldn't let it. This job was too damn important.

"I- I- I- I'm sorry, mistress." Kim stammered. "It won't happen again."

"Mmmm. . . You sure about that?"

"Y- Yes, mistress. I won't let it."

Sylvia leaned against Kim a little more, sighing a hot breath against her ear. "Pity." Then she let her go. Kim grabbed the edge of the table, panting softly. "I hope you'll have dinner ready for us on time, kitten. . . Elliot doesn't like eating late."

"I- I'll get on it right away, mistress." Kim whispered.

"Good, good. See you downstairs."

Kim stared at the wall for a moment, then another, wondering just what the hell had happened and where she'd lost control of the situation. More importantly, why she'd been so willing to give it up in the first place and not fight back.

Cold cereal was a terrible dinner, but it was something Kim seriously considered when she realized the cupboards were all but empty. She hadn't noticed last night, but now there was no denying that she'd need to go shopping tomorrow. Luckily, there were enough condiments and canned veggies to put together a reasonable chicken dinner- plenty of greens and succulent breasts the size of her fist.

It wouldn't win any awards, but it would fill up hungry stomachs. Kim was definitely jealous, but she managed a smile as Eliot and Sylvia sat to eat. Elliot's gaze occasionally flit to Kim as she went about cleaning up the den and hall way as a half-assed way to apologize to Sylvia for not getting it done sooner. Of course, she'd have to look for the necklace in the morning, but for the meantime, she could keep the domestic peace.

The entire time she could feel Elliot's gaze on her back as she worked, and for a while she thought maybe it was wistful imaginings- childish though they may be- but when she looked back at him by sheer coincidence, she saw both of the McKennas watching her with catty little smirks of their own. "Great," Kim mused."I've joined some kind of weird cult, too. . ."

When the work was as done as it could be and the two were done with dinner, Kim went to take the plates but Elliot laid his hand over hers and smiled. "I'll take care of these, kitten. Why don't you take off and have a good evening, hm?"

"Ah, are you sure? It's no problem."

"Positive."

"Well, thank you, mister-"

"Elliot's fine. I'm not as stuck up as Sylvia is." He winked.

"Only in some parts," Sylvia chimed in.

Elliot smirked at that, never taking his gaze from Kim. In a soft voice meant only for them, he said. "Leave the pantyhose at home."

Why, because the meat of her thighs wasn't perfectly shaped by them? Because they didn't match the uniform? Because they were too tanned? Kim frowned slightly.

"I like the shoes, though. . . Maybe higher heels."

Kim blinked but Elliot was looking at her with a stern expression. "Uh. . ."

"At least for dinner," He added.

"If you want. . ."

Elliot rose smoothly. "I do." He guided her to the back door and slipped her coat over her shoulders. Before she could make it out the door, he stroked her head softly. "Kim?"

"Y-. .. Yes?"

"You okay? You seem tense."

"Ah, just. . . Nothing. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that's all. Won't happen again!"

The strong, tall man ran his fingers through her hair softly, down her neck and even further down her back than she'd imagined he would. He stopped right at the crest of her butt trailing his fingers all the way. When she turned to look up at him, he eased his hand a little lower and smirked at her. It wasn't the smirk of someone exuding power over another, but rather the confident grin of a friendly face who. . . just happened to enjoy turning her on.

These people were insane.

She was all the more insane, though; she looked Elliot right in the eye and purred.

On her way home, Kim stopped at a convenience store and shop lifted a couple of candy bars- in action movie heroine style, when the clerk inevitably caught her clumsy ass attempt to stuff them in her coat pocket, she looked him in the eye and shook her head. "Nobody's going to believe you anyway, I mean look at me." She threw her arms out. "Fucking, Meow, dude. Just forget you saw this and I'll come pay for them later in the week. I promise."

At least she managed to keep from going to jail over a couple bucks of caramel and chocolate. They also did a lot to curb her appetite and keep her energy up, which had been sagging considerably since the morning.

It was getting home to her apartment that was more difficult than she had intended. Old man Vickers was waiting on the stoop of the building, shadowed by the overhang. She saw him just in time to avoid pulling in to the parking lot. Instead she sunk down into her seat and rolled on past, pulling up into a parking spot ahead of the complex by a few hundred feet. In order to keep from drawing attention to herself, she crept out of the passenger's side and looped around the building.

In the alley behind the complex, she climbed up the building's trash dumpster and the fence surrounding it, carefully balancing herself so she could leverage her kitchen window open. To anyone observing, it had to look incredibly stupid, but as with so many nights before, Kim managed to climb in without getting herself killed. Tonight it wasn't just four legged cats breaking into apartments through open windows.

3: Wednesday

Kim had heard someone say once that there was a trick to keeping your stomach from realizing you were starving; it involved copious amounts of water and bread. She was beginning to think they might have been on to something. It hadn't helped the throbbing headache and shaking from low blood sugar, but at least she wasn't ready to tear someone's head off for looking at her wrong.

Her bladder on the other hand. That was a different story. Kim clenched her bare thighs together as she pulled into the McKenna's drive path. The angry red glow of the low fuel light taunted her the entire way.

By the time she was out of the car and up the stairs the pressure of her bladder swelled to remind her what a dumb-ass idea it had been to chug half a gallon of water. Through the slat in the door, she saw Elliot walking the hall, heading straight for her. Heat warmed her face as she wondered- had he found out the necklace was missing? Would he blame her for it?

Her hand was shaking from more than just low blood sugar by then, but through sheer force of will Kim managed to knock on the door right before Elliot got to it. He opened it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Maybe she was just imagining things, maybe she it was the gnawing hunger making her delusional.

"Morning, Kim." He didn't sound upset.

"Ah- morning. Can I slip past you? Just need to use the bathroom."

"Oh, sure, go ahead."

She scampered by, unable to shake the feeling that Elliot's gaze was lingering on her backside. Perhaps not for the first time, she wondered just how much she actually cared. It'd been so long since she'd felt desired that she was starting to welcome the attention, even if it meant she was doing it for all the wrong reasons. A year couped up in an apartment did that to a person.

After finishing her business, she tidied up the bathroom quickly- only now becoming aware of how routine the tail was becoming, how it's fuzzy presence against the backs of her thighs was a constant reminder of where she belonged. She blushed at the notion and opened the door. Elliot was standing right beside it. Kim's heart sank. Maybe he had thought she'd taken the necklace after all.

Before she could even open her mouth, Eliot had sprung on her; his voice was firm, solid and demanding. "Here, come with me." Like an obedient little cat, Kim followed behind as he lead her to the study at the back of the house. Boxes of books and knickknacks filled every square inch of the wood flooring under a thin layer of dust. Along the walls, several empty book cases stood a quiet vigil.

Kim frowned slightly. Until she saw the massive fireplace that dominated the left side wall- beautiful marble accent around a stone fire compartment topped with a silver inlaid mantle. "Wow," Kim whispered.

"Oh, that? Yeah. . . That took me a lot of time to get right. My father had one like it, but he would never let me near it. I figured I'd have my own one day." He glanced at her with a slightly wolfish smirk. "I tend to get what I want these days."

"I'm sure you do. . ."

"So, what I'd like is if you'd not mind breaking down these boxes and shelving the books. Make sure everything's clean and tidy, you know. If you need help moving anything, just leave a note and I'll take care of it when I get home."

During the discussion, Kim had consciously folded her hands in front of her waist; a practiced sign of 'class' and supplication and, more important to her at that moment, a way to hide her trembling. The headache made it hard to focus, bust she still managed. "Of course, mister McKenna. Ah. . . Anything else?"

In that second, he looked her over thoughtfully, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he strode towards her and placed a hand against the door beside her. "Kim, are you all right?" His whisper was hot and throaty against her face.

"I-"

"You're shaking."

"It's been a long night."

"Mmm. . ." His brown gaze swept down her body once more and suddenly she became aware of how little her dress actually covered- how much it left wholly exposed. "If you need something, let my wife know."

"Thank you, El- er, mister McKenna."

"Say it."

"Uh?"

He reached up delicately and with little more than a feather touch, brushed her whsipy bangs back from her eyes. "Say my name."

"Elliot. . .?"

That earned her a smirk. "I knew we were right about you." Before she could even dream of asking what he meant, he turned to the hall. "Going to be late. You know, you're free to have lunch here if you're hungry."

"I- Are you sure?"

"Of course. You're here all day, it wouldn't be right not to offer. Just help yourself and if you want anything, let one of us know. My wife usually gets groceries on Friday."

Thank god. Kim managed a genuine smile for the first time in a long while. "Thank you, Elliot-"

"Ah, ah, ah." He tutted. "Mister McKenna."

"Ah, yes. . . Yes, sir. My apologies." Kim found a tiny grin on her own lips, she took the frills of her dress and curtsied a little." Elliot stared at her for a second, shook his head and laughed.

"Good kitten. I'll be home later, I have some running around to do tonight."

"Sure, I'll see you later."

When it came down to it, Kim couldn't focus, there was no way she'd be able to find the damn necklace among the boxes and books. That didn't stop her from tearing the place apart in a vain effort to do so, though. She upended boxes, moved book cases around as best she could and even unrolled the ugly tan rug that had formerly been leaning against the wall, awaiting the day it'd see a clean floor and stocked shelves.

Yet nowhere did she find the damned necklace.

She stood in the middle of the room looking at the mess she had created and rubbing the back of her neck, muttering curses in every language- those real and imagined- that she could think of. Somehow she was sure that Elliot had directed her to the room, to show her where to look. But quite obviously that wasn't the case. "Fuck it," She whispered. She needed something to eat.

When Kim turned Sylvia cleared her throat. She was leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed under her breasts, hugging her bath robe to her body like a second skin. It did its best to accent her lithe form, too. "So. . ."

Kim frowned. "Uh, so. . ."

"What's this?"

"Ah, just a project Elliot wanted me to clean up." Kim glanced back. "Kind of a work in progress."

Her dual toned eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Dangerous ground, something even Kim could pick up on. Sylvia, like her husband, didn't take well to people who failed them in some way, it seemed. She shook her head and made a come here motion with one delicate finger. When Kim didn't immediately jump, she said it firmly. "Come here, kitten."

Kim's brow knotted as she approached. "Wh-" was as far as she got before Sylvia was on her; breaking into her space. The slimmer woman pressed her body to Kim tight, wilting the catgirl maid with the heat of her demand. She balled her hand into Kim's hair, voice a sharp hiss of intensity Kim had never heard before. "Your job is very simple, kitten. You clean up messess, you work for us, right?"

"I-" Kim was dumbfounded as to how to reply.

Sylvia pulled her hair back, forcing Kim to arch a little or risk pain. Before she knew it, the lithe woman was behind her, voice still firm and controlled. Hot against her ear now. "You're being a bad kitten. I won't tolerate it. Do you understand?"

"I- I- I-" Kim stammered. She tried to pull away but the younger woman held her firmly in place.

"Do. You. Understand?"

"Y- Yes mistress."

Sylvia pushed against Kim a little, harder when Kim gave. They were a couple feet from the wall when Kim put her hands out to brace herself. Sylvia didn't stop psuhing, though. "You say that. . . But I don't think you mean it, kitten." The woman's voice took a throatier rumble to it, harder and more intense. Right against Kim's ear. "He's not here, he doesn't have to know, Kitten."

In spite of herself, Kim whimpered. Who the hell was this woman?

Then came the slap. It was hard, unforgiving. Sylvia's whole palm smashed against Kim's ass with a loud 'clap'. Kim whimpered louder, her nails digging into the plaster. "Ah!"

Sylvia pulled her hair a little harder. "Do you even want this job, kitten?"

"Y- y- Yes, mistress. I- I do."

SLAP! The fresh sting on Kim's ass was her reward. She grit her teeth.

"Are you going to do better, kitten?"

Kim whimpered loudly. "I will, mistress. I promise. I'll- I was just looking for-" SLAP "Ah! Mistress, I was looking for the-"

"Shh." Sylvia's finger pressed to the catgirl's lips. "You're talking when you should be listening- I want this room cleaned up before dinner and everything put away. . . Do you understand?"

Kim was trembling, unable to speak, she nodded weakly.

"Kitten." Sylvia demanded.

"M- Me- Mew."

Sylvia didn't ease up in the least, holding the older woman against the wall, hand full of hair clenched tightly between her fingers. "Good girl."

Kim whimpered, mewled again.

"That's it. . . Goooood girl." Before she let go, the younger woman cooed in her ear. "Get this place cleaned up. Now. Or we'll be doing this again." Kim whimpered. "And again. And again."

"I- I- I understand, m- mistress."

"Do you?" Sylvia's weight pressed down against the older maid, pushing against her generous ass and the fresh hand marks that now painted it. She deliberately angled her body so the plug jostled around inside her anus- a master play that made Kim clench her knees together tightly, fearing she'd try to pull the plug out. "Do you really, Kim?"

Kim's legs buckled a little. She mewed louder.

"Good," the younger woman said firmly. "Don't let it happen again."

"I won't, mistress."

"Pity."

Sylvia pulled back, leaving Kim half bent over, half arched against the wall and shaking like a leaf in the wake of the encounter. Her entire body bristled with goose bumps and as Sylvia disappeared into the hall, Kim hugged herself, trying to gather her racing thoughts.

She was blushing. Hot, liquid shame.

But it wasn't just shame. . . She could feel the tiny bit of moisture, hot against her inner thighs. In spite- or maybe because- of this, Kim sunk her teeth into her lower lip, eying the door warily.

Her breath was short and hot against her own lips. What the hell happened? How had she lost control so quickly? Kim put her hand over her heart and caught her breath, easing off the wall after a second.

What a bitch.

She was still biting her lip as she wandered over to the stack of boxes and picked up some books. She stood there shamefacedly for a moment, not entirely sure what she was going to do, but knowing deep down that something had just changed drastically in her relationship with her employers.

Somehow she wasn't sure just what yet, though.

After breaking down a couple boxes of books and filing them away, Kim dared a trip to the kitchen for lunch, silently praying Sylvia had gone off to do something else- simultaneously relieved and disappointed she had.

Kim dampened her lips in anticipation of lunch to come, but found her disappointment when she opened the fridge only to find it empty. Then she remembered that she'd been going to mention it yesterday; she'd forgotten.

"Son of a bitch," she whispered.

That meant going to Sylvia. That meant asking for money to get groceries. . .

Sylvia's voice made Kim jump. "What's the matter?"

"Ah!" Kim grabbed her chest. "Uh. . . Uhm- food." She recovered herself eventually. "I guess I need to go grocery shopping."

"You guess?" She peered around the edge of the door. "Oh, look at that. I guess you do." She gave Kim a smug grin. The bitch knew exactly what was going to happen. "I suppose you'll want some money, then."

"You suppose right."

That earned her a narrow eyed glance.

"Uh, mistress."

"Tch," she turned away. "I'm sure you can write a grocery list, right? Get enough to last a week- soy milk for me and two percent for him."

"Yes mistress. . ." Kim did her best to keep out of arms reach as she ran through a quick list from the recipes she knew how to cook and what she imagined they might like. She was just about to turn it over when Sylvia rounded the bar with an envelope of cash. And her robe open, giving Kim a perfect view of her young, firm body and the tiny patch of brown pubic hair that dusted her caramel colored pubic region. Kim should've looked away, but instead- she found her gaze traveling deliberately up the woman's toned abs, cuppable breasts and her throat- she met Syvlia's smirk evenly. She could play those kinds of power games too, dammit.

Sylvia slithered into the space between them as she set the envelope down. A mere inch away from Kim's face, she whispered. "You intrigue me." Her tone had lost its sharp edge and instead seemed bemused.

"Yeah?"

"Mmmmm. . ." The younger woman drank in Kim's scent, head tilted slightly. "Yes."

Kim froze in place. She'd never met a woman this aggressive, this demanding. . . She'd never been this curious to see where things could go if she let them, either. With a shuddering breath she managed to whisper, "Well, I'm pretty open."

"I know." Sylvia purred. "You're a good girl, aren't you?"

"I- I think you're the girl here." Kim swallowed, not quite believing it. "You just want to be a woman."

Sylvia leaned in a little closer, nuzzling playfully against Kim's cheek and sending the maid's heart into her throat. "Mmm. You smell good. . ."

"I try. . ."

"You're shaking."

"D- don't mind that." Kim exhaled. "W- What do you want from me, Sylvia?"

"Mmmrrrrmmmm. . ." The younger woman leaned further into Kim so her scent trailed along her catgirl's neck. She turned a little, kissed her neck and, in a low throaty growl, whispered. "I want to see where you'll go with us, kitten. . ." Her teeth nipped at Kim's throat. "I want to see how good of a girl you really are."

Kim clenched her teeth. She knew better. She shouldn't. She couldn't. . .

She shuddered. "I'magoodgirl-" and apparently a fucking idiot.

Sylvia rewarded her instantly by taking Kim's earlobe between her lips and pulling on it playfully, murring in her ear. A kiss on her cheek, her throat. She drew back to see the damage she was doing and Kim tried to kiss her. Sylvia put her finger to the catgirl's lips, voice firm and in control once more. "Bad kittens get punished. If you're a good girl, I'll reward you. Do you understand?"

"I-" Kim huffed. "I can't believe this."

Sylvia slapped her mouth. "Bad kitten."

"Ah!"

"You speak when spoken to around me." The girl's finger touched Kim's pouted lips, gliding effortlessly down to her chin. She cupped the older maid's mouth with a secret little smile. "Do you understand, kitten?"

"M-. . ."

"Good. Girl." Sylvia leaned in, touching her lips to the other side of her finger. Her voice was a liquid purr that smelled faintly of toothpaste- poisonous candy in the best of times. Her dual toned eyes watched Kim's- flickers of mischief and demand arced through her relentlessly calm gaze; she knew where they both stood and she was going to ensure the maid- her maid knew it too. "Now, kitten. Go to the store. Get out food. . . Then you can finish taking care of our home."

Kim blinked several times. "U- Uh. . Y- Yes, mistress."

"Good."

"I- I have to get changed, mistress."

Sylvia drew back, head tilted a little. She scoffed. "No, kitten, you're not." At Kim's confused expression, she arched a brow at her. When it finally did dawn on Kim that she was being asked- told she was going dressed as is, her body shuddered involuntarily. That earned a smile from her employer who leaned forward into her space and bounced back again. "Good! Hurry back, you've got some cleaning to do."

Kim watched the woman bound out into the hall with an increasingly sinking suspicion that she wasn't going to have much of a choice in such decisions in the future. Kim clenched her thighs together, huffed out a quick sigh.

There was an odd comfort in that thought.

Kimberly Williams: writer, car mechanic- when she wanted to be- and sometimes catgirl maid for the eccentric. Kim couldn't find it in her to smile as she trod down the isle of the Piggly Wiggly with her cart, chucking things in as she went with the same grace and consideration one used when tossing nuclear fuel rods. With every movement, the little bell on her choker jingled softly, drawing attention whenever she'd pass by someone she was tiptoeing to avoid.

This was ridiculous! Why had she ever agreed to put on this stupid outfit in the first place? She saw it in the looks of other shoppers- the subtle appraising glance reminded her outfits like this belonged in the bedroom and not in public. At the house was one thing!

At the house it was safe.

Sort of. If she didn't count Sylvia.

Sylvia's fault. This was all her fault. . .

Kim huffed dejectedly, tossing in a box of noodles. There wasn't anything she could do now anyway. Oh, but she'd try. Yes, Kim was many things but a quitter was not one of them. She'd get back and unpack the groceries and then she'd find that damn necklace; she could still recover her pride, too.

It'd just take her a little time, that's all.

Kim veered around the corner facing the cash out isles only to have her heart sink when she saw that only one lane was open and several people were standing there while the poor cashier was being berated by someone who insisted that their coupon was still valid.

She clutched the basket and sighed. So much for getting out unseen. . .

"Mommy, look! she has a tail!"

Oh no. . .

"Uh huh, that's nice."

Kim glanced back. A little girl was looking at her tail covetously, then when she realized she was being spied on, she looked up at Kim and gave a bright, innocent smile. Kim managed one in return. Just barely. Content the girl wasn't going to do anything- she was too shy to engage in conversation and so what Kim when it came to it, they struck a mutual agreement to ignore one another.

The catgirl maid. Kim mused as she snatched a magazine from the rack and flipped through it idly; if she was lucky, she'd have a place to bury her face where no one would look. They'd probably be too busy looking at her ass, anyway.

The thought was actually kind of comforting; if no one knew who she was, they'd never be able to point at her when she came by to buy her own food- when she could afford it again.

Kim felt a tug on her tail- she clenched involuntarily, fighting with the downward pull. Fighting the moan that tried to work its way up her throat. She blushed sharply and looked down at the girl. A quick glance at the mother found her not paying attention- big surprise- Kim narrowed her gaze and hissed softly.

This earned a giggle from the girl.

"Little traitor," Kim whispered.

It was in that position, half bent over her cart with a child tugging on her tail that Kim Williams realized she was having much more fun with this than she was entitled to. She buried her face in the magazine and prayed silently that the coupon god would hurry the hell up and prove its disciple right.

Once Kim got back, she immediately started a ham cooking and went about scouting the entire house for any sign of Sylvia. When she didn't find the younger woman, she made herself a cheese sandwich and woofed it down en-route to the study. There was a time for poise and grace, but when it came to it, Kim was- and always had been- a little rough and tumble.

Thursday

Thursday started like any other day- Kim had been late due to having to climb out her window to avoid old man Vickers, but after she cleaned up the den and did a quick dusting of the house, she started her search for the necklace anew.

To her astonishment, the necklace wasn't under the bookcase. Sylvia had apparently noticed, perhaps she'd decided it belonged to her and Kim didn't need to worry about it- which was true, of course, but still, she /needed/ to know it was safe and sound before she got fired for something beyond her control.

But when she approached Sylvia about it, Kim lost her nerve and her voice stumbled in her mouth. If only Sylvia's had done the same; "What're you staring at me for? Don't you have work to be doing?"

"I- But- yes, but-"

"Go, then!" she shooed Kim out of the room where she'd been painting.

It was a stupid thing, something that bothered Kim no end, but she couldn't muster the courage to say anything about it- partly for fear of looking guilty in the necklace's disappearance, and partly because. . . well, it was Sylvia. You didn't question Sylvia unless you had a death wish.

So Kim went back to the study and continued her shelving of books, cleaning the furniture afterwards and wondering with increasing dread just what would happen to her if she couldn't find the damn jewelry. Her hands were trembling by the time she managed to slot the last book in and clear the last of the dust bunnies from the ancient wood.

When Kim went to leave, Sylvia was standing in the door way idly mixing colors on her pallet with a bemused expression. Her mismatched green and blue eyes watched her like a hawk as the skittish maid did a quick circle of the room to ensure everything was as it should be. It was as fake an attempt to look busy as was Kim's smile when she met the younger woman's gaze.

"You can do better, I hope." Was all Sylvia said before she turned back into the hall.

Kim frowned at the open doorway and exhaled a shaky breath. She stole another peek under the bookcases, one after another, to ensure she hadn't just missed the necklace by accident. But it wasn't there.

Not under any of them.

Kim stood eventually and combed her hair back between her cat ears. The routine went from cleaning things up and searching to tearing the house apart, digging through the remains and then putting things back in order. It was during one of these rebuilding cycles that Sylvia- quite rightly- stopped Kim. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Uh-"

Her eyes narrowed. She tapped her bare foot with an expectant expression. "I thought we talked about this, kitten. You're being a /bad/ maid not to mention a bad kitten. We pay you to keep this place in order, not destroy it!"

"Well, hold on-"

"No, no, no. I'm not hearing this. Grab the back of the couch."

"Hey, now wait a minute here! I was looking for-"

"Now!"

Kim flinched at the sound of Sylvia's righteous anger. Something compelled her to follow the woman's demand even as she tried to resist. She knew better, of course. "If I could explain. . ."

"Shh. You deserve this and you know it." Sylvia stepped up behind her. Her firm body pressed against Kim's fleshier curves, leaning against her upper back and taking the maid's hands, forcibly placing them on the back of the couch while she whispered. "I told you I wasn't going to tolerate this from you. You're a guest- an employee- Elliot might let you get away with it, but that's why I'm here."

Kim's heart pounded in her chest between strangled breaths as she clutched the fabric tightly. "M- But-"

"Kitty! Bad!" Sylvia said harshly in her ear. "Say it!"

"B- B- But."

"No!" Sylvia slapped her ass hard. Kim jumped and yelped. "Say it!"

"B- Bad?"

"Again! Louder!" Another firm slap lashed her butt. When Kim tried to move, Sylvia grabbed both of her hands together and held her firmly in place. Her breath was hot and huid against Kim's oversensitive ear. "Show me you understand and this might end sooner."

Kim was blushing furiously by the time she managed to force her voice to form the words. "K- Kitty bad. . ."

"Why? Why is our kitten being bad?" SLAP. Kim yelped.

"B- b-" This bitch. . . Kim gritted her teeth. "I was looking-"

SLAP.

Sylvia's voice was firm, hard as steel. "Wrong answer. Again."

"Necklace-"

That caused Sylvia to pause. "What?"

Kim dared a look at the woman, face still burning hot. "I was looking for a necklace that went missing- It was on the dress form but it was gone the next day."

Sylvia frowned slightly. "That right?"

"Y- Yeah- Uh. Yes, mistress."

After a moment, Sylvia ran her slapping hand over Kim's generous rump, cupping her cheek with the tips of her fingers. Her gaze was distant and hollow, as though she was thinking more than she was paying attention to the woman in her hands. After a moment she let out a soft 'hmph.' and slapped Kim's ass again from the underside.

Kimberly murred.

"Did you find it?" The younger woman's hand started to massage into Kim's flank, rubbing the sore spot she'd just created. "Did kitty find her shiny?"

"It's not mine," Kim said defensively. "D- Do you think I'd try to steal it?"

Sylvia slapped her ass again. "You might."

"I wouldn't!"

Slap!

"Ah!"

"Pity," the woman said with a sly grin. Her hand trailed down Kim's ass, brushing the plug with her thumb, pressing down on it to stretch her catgirl's ass. Like a master working putty for the first time, she slid her thumb down, further and further. It was her right, after all, to inspect her employee, wasn't it?

Kim hung her head between her shoulders. It was. . .

It always had been.

Sylvia seemed to sense her giving in and rewarded her with a gentle purr, bringing two fingers against Kim's dampening lips. She massaged the older woman's labia softly, purring across her exposed upper back and pointedly ignoring Kim's whimpering mewls. They both knew there was no chance Kim wouldn't let her have her way. "This would be easier if you didn't have these on. . ."

"M- M-" Kim sighed deeply as Sylvia's fingers trailed down further- pushing right against her pelvic bone, seconds later she worked her fingers into a lazy circle around her most sensitive spot. "Me- meeeewww."

"Oooh. . . Does kitty like?"

Fucking hell when did I become this. Kim whimpered deeply while the woman worked her like the putty she knew she was becoming. Her knees quivered, her thighs bristled with goosebumps and the longer the attention- the demand- went on, the more Kim understood that there was only one way this was going to end.

So, she did the only thing she could do; Kim arched her back instinctively, rolling her hips into Sylvia's attentions.

But then it happened.

Sylvia cupped her hand and slapped her ass harder still. The sharp stinging sensation caused Kim to jump and flinch away. When she went to turn, Sylvia grabbed a hand full of her hair and wrenched her head back painfully, growling in her ear. "I suggest you find it, then, kitten. You've been a naughty girl but I'm going to overlook it. . . I might even give you a treat if you find it before Saturday."

The sudden change sent a wave of heat across Kim's cheeks. The shame at being manipulated so easily. The terror of what this woman could do if she wanted to. More than that, though, was Kim's aching desire that Sylvia would take advantage.

Take advantage she did, too. She threw Kim forward against the couch, slapped her hand down on her upper back to hold her there. "Do you understand, Kim?"

"Y- Yes mistress. . ."

"Good." The woman's hand trailed down Kim's spine deliberately, easing down further and further until she crested the ridge of her butt. Kim looked over her shoulder, up at the woman- her employer, her mistress- Sylvia was smiling a crooked little grin telling the maid all she needed to know; there was no chance Kim was going to get any more out of her. "Mmm," Sylvia stroked Kim's gently. Then she gave it a couple pats and turned away, fluffing her own hair over her shoulders. "Find it, kitten!"

If she'd been able to a muster a response, Kim would've cursed. Instead, she hung her head shamefully, horny and dejected.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

By the grace of whatever maid goddess that might've been listening, Kim's silent prayer was heard and Sylvia left later in the day, leaving the entire house open to Kim's probing. No corner was spared; from every inch of the fist floor to the space in between the steps leading up to the second. She ever had the audacity to flip the stupid little knickknacks that filled the shelves in the master bath room.

Minute by minute her irritation became desperation as she searched and turned up nothing. Now, perched at the lip of the doorway into the McKennas' bedroom, she was wondering just how much more she'd be prepared to do to find what she was after.

The room itself was pretty spacious, dominated by a massive king sized bed against the rear wall under an ugly painting of a cityscape that Sylvia had probably done. The plush golden comforter was turned down perfectly- as it should be- and not a single thread was out of place on the doilies that graced the double wide dresser and matching cherry wood nightstands.

Kim glanced back, unsure. Should she even have been here? Was it her right as an employee to go through these peoples' belongings? She should, she decided and went in. Nothing under the bed, nothing in the nightstands. . .

In the reflection from the floor length mirror nestled behind the door, her reflection frowned. Her cat ears had picked up some dust and so had her black uniform. She was going to need to wash it tonight. . . But somehow. . .

Somehow something had changed in her. There wasn't that twinge of uncertainty any more and she actually felt more confident in that uniform than she remembered being in a long while. If only she'd had time to appreciate it, she might have done so-

But that would've lead to problems; a confident Kim tended to get into trouble. A wicked little smirk tugged at her lips.

Kim looked herself over, nibbling her lower lip. Maybe Elliot was right, maybe shewas secretly attractive like this. It had certainly seemed the case in the store and even here, she was subtly ogled- desired even. She pushed the thought aside, dampened her lips and turned on the dresser. "One thing at a time. . . Find the necklace."

She flipped the comforter up and dug under the bed, no doubt looking all kinds of ridiculous, but too far in to stop herself. Kim reached around and squinted against the gloom, kicking up a little dust and coming up empty handed yet again. Kim had to stop herself from screaming as she braced her forearms against the bed, mumbling obscenities to herself.

This was not good. The first job she'd ever gotten that didn't involve the words 'do you want fries with that' or her slaving away at a computer every waking hour and she was completely blowing it. Not only that, she could be arrested! That necklace was huge; it had to have cost a small fortune. . .

The first job she actually enjoyed aside from writing and now she was going to fuck it up because she couldn't find something she had no part in loosing. What a load of crap! Kim bunched up a hand full of comforter, looking around the room with wide eyed trepidation- her heart hammered against her ribs, breath fighting her for every sip.

"God dammit."

Kim's gaze fell to the dresser and a new wave of uncertainty slammed into her. Going into their room unannounced was one thing, but. . .

But nothing. She needed to find that damned jewelery.

Like any capricious cat, she told herself. Thin, possibly insane justification, to be sure. None the less, she was beyond shame or propriety if it meant the difference between being free and not. Kim cracked the seal on the dresser and held her breath as though every movement would somehow give her away.

To whom, she wasn't sure.

When nothing blew up she glanced back self-consciously, drew in another breath and then started rifling through the clothing one drawer at a time. It wasn't until she got to the bottom drawer that she felt her heart really start to test the limits of her rib cage.

On a bed of crushed velvet as black as her uniform were a number of toys, from egg style vibrators to a pair of horse shaped dildos as long as her forearm. Kim's first reaction was to name them- Phobos and Deimos. Fear and Panic. Strangely enough, they sat beside a silk braided whip and a thick leather collar with a metal ring on one side.

And a bell on the other. Stitched into its padded surface, the word "Kitty" stared back at her.

"Wh- Well," the blushing maid coughed to the side. "Serves me right, I guess. . ." Kim slid the drawer back into place, her hands trembling to match her suddenly wobbly knees. What the hell had she stumbled into with these two?

More to the point, she wondered; was that meant for her?

A muted ringing echoed through the house. Dong, dong, dong, dong, dong.

It was the clock downstairs.

She was late to start dinner.

Kim did a very un maid like thing;n she slapped the dresser and stumbled out of the room barely upright. "Shit-"

Kim stared at the mess she'd made of the kitchen in her haste to get the pasta boiling and chicken prepared- looking between two jars of herbs wondering just what the hell had gone wrong that brought her to this point.

The recipe card she'd chosen for dinner called for ingredients she'd somehow forgotten to pick up between having her legs ogled, her tail pulled and quietly lusting over the McKennas- a little substitution was in order but did thyme work in place of basil?

It would tonight, Kim decided and threw it into the batter. She stole a quick sip of the rum for courage and poured the rest of the ingredients in with the flour, mixing it all up before she battered the chicken breasts she'd laid out and dropping them in the fry oil.

Dinner was supposed to have been done already, she was supposed to have the place clean and the study dressed up, to say nothing of the jewelery! Instead, she was being a horrible maid, snooping around in places she didn't belong and working her butt off to appease people who'd never appreciate what she did anyway.

That wasn't entirely true. Even if it felt like it at times.

They were going to catch her half-assed attempts to hide her snooping and if she wasn't sent to jail she'd get sued or something. Or, at best, she was going to get. . .

She was in for one hell of a spanking.

As Kim was straining the pasta the front door opened. She almost wheeled on the sound but managed to avoid burning herself at the last minute and glanced back. Elliot poked his head in and gave a little wave.

Then he noticed that the table wasn't set and that she wasn't actually done making dinner. That frosted his expression somewhat. Kim opened her mouth to apologize but he turned away before the words would come. Some time later, between finishing what she hoped to hell resembled authentic Alfredo sauce and getting the table set, both the McKennas wandered in from opposite sides of the house.

Kim set out dinner just as they entered the dining room with barely a word between them, taking their seats as if by force and both looking at Kim expectantly. She did the only thing she could do; stare back, dumbfounded. "Have I missed something?"

"You might say that," Elliot said and steepled his fingers.

Kim looked at their plates, then her employers, acutely aware of the warmth burning her cheeks brighter than her empty fuel warning light. Why were they staring so hard? Why? What had she forgotten or- the silverware! "Ah, right."

Shit.

She turned and grabbed up enough for both of them, suddenly wondering if she should have made a salad to go with the meal and cursing her lack of time management skills. She was supposed to be a house maid, a domestic servant that was the quiet queen of the abode and all that happiness. The queen, it seemed, had been replaced by the court jester-

Or the village idiot.

"Sorry- ah. My apologies. . ."

Elliot eyed her thoughtfully for a moment, glanced to his wife and picked up a fork. Something in his expression was disapproving and for the first time in a long time, she knew she should have been ashamed and actually felt it. The heat burning on her face set her heart pounding even harder, she glanced away.

Kim knew better than to speak as they ate, so she resigned herself to standing nearby as she had the other nights, playing her part as the quiet maid that served her employers faithfully and stayed out of sight when not needed.

She was getting used to it, she was even starting to like it. What she didn't like was the expression on Elliot's face as he peeled the batter back from his chicken. They looked at one another. There was no warmth in his eyes when he slid his plate forward indicating he was done.

Uh oh. . .

Kim frowned slightly and recovered the plate with the best apologetic face she could muster. When she bent slightly to pick up the plate Elliot laid his hand on top of hers- firm but gentle- and whispered. "How's the study coming along?"

"Ah. . . About that. . ."

Sylvia chuckled quietly between scoops of pasta and glancing at Kim's cleavage.

"Pour me some wine and join me there." He said simply as he got up.

Kim's heart sank into her stomach, that wretched tension of fear knotted what was left of her frazzled sanity, reminding her that she wasn't going to be able to keep this job and she'd wind up living on the streets or, at best, working at another damned McJob. But it wasn't her fault! It never had been!

It was categorically unfair that she be saddled with that kind of responsibility! She had only herself to blame, though. Getting involved with these people had left her torn in so many ways and now she was on the precipice of loosing that job.

All it would take would be one good nudge. . .

"Your wine. . ." Kim said softly as she handed Elliot the drink. He was surveying the work she hadn't finished with that same quiet contemplative expression he always seemed to have that gave him an air of just this side of superior without being smug.

His voice was cool. "Thank you." They stood quietly for a few moments looking over the books and knickknacks before he wandered over to the chair and eased into it. "What happened, Kimberly?"

With a broad opener like that, Kim did the only thing she could- she told the truth. "I've been running behind all day, mister McKenna." She sounded like a damn school girl, even to her own ears.

"I see. . ." Elliot swirled his wine. "Kim, what do you think we should do about this?"

"M- Mister McKenna?"

He leaned to the opposite side of the chair so he could watch her fully- when she squirmed, he sipped his wine, gaze lingering over the rim of the glass. Without the slightest hint of shame he started at her feet and looked her up and down a couple times, tracing every inch of her curves, lingering on the ones hidden by her velvet uniform. "What kind of maid have we hired that can't keep a house or prepare a meal? That chicken wasn't free, you know."

"Ah. . ." Kim flushed. "It won't happen again."

"You say that now, but how do I know?" Another sip and he was setting his glass down, crossing one leg over the other and looking every part the business executive who was used to getting his way. "What should I believe?"

"I- If-" she cleared her throat. "Sylvia-"

"Mistress." Sylvia chimed in from the doorway.

Kim's blush deepened. "Sh-" Her entire skin prickled with heat and excitement. "I-"

"Go on."

"Mistress Sylvia saw to it I was. . . uh. . . Corrected. Earlier." The words came between chokes of air that suddenly felt much hotter. Under the gaze of the two, Kim felt horribly exposed and dangerously curious about what they had in mind. She swallowed and turned her gaze down slightly as the two watched her. Should she have told Elliot about the necklace?

"Mistress Sylvia, huh. . ." Elliot bobbed his foot in thought. "So what happened?"

He wasn't serious, was he? They looked at one another. He was waiting. She bit deep into her lower lip, suddenly very aware that she was the least dressed person in the room and, perhaps more poignantly, the only person who didn't feel the need to spend their time imposing their will- okay, so she was a beta, putting it mildly, but still. . .

The two predators watched their kitten maid with a mix of emotions, silently pressing her into the corners of her mind where she could whimper safely. She couldn't bring her voice out to even acknowledge that she'd heard the question, much less address it. All there was in that moment was the dual toned gaze of Sylvia's impressive power and the steady look of Elliot's expectant brown eyes.

Ultimately, no matter what she said, it was going to end exactly how these two wanted it to. . . It was also how Kim wanted it to end- provided it didn't end with her being fired. She whimpered and muttered, "I wasn't keeping my end of the bargain and I was punished."

"Mmm. . ." Elliot bobbed his foot softly. "She can be a little tough."

"What was I supposed to do? Let it go on?" Sylvia slithered up to the chair and went to swing her foot over the arm. Elliot stopped her with his hand and a look which he turned on Kim a second later. Firmly in control and taking absolutely nothing less than everything he wanted.

"If," He began, "she's seen to it, then I guess we don't need to talk about it. But please, don't let it happen again. . ."

Sylvia pouted playfully at Kim, her sly covetous smile taking on an entirely new glint in the muted light. "You can make it up to me tomorrow, kitten."

Kim clasped her hands in front of herself, head lowered slightly. "O- Okay. Ahm, m- may I be excused, then?"

Elliot let the silence linger until he was probably sure he'd made his point. He took another moment to appreciate Kim's body with an unwavering- and not completely unwelcome- look. "Mmm. . . I suppose so."

"Thank you."

Sylvia piped up. "Take that chicken home with you, it's terrible."

"Y- Yes mistress."

5: Friday

Sylvia had been right; somewhere in the world an emaciated child would've thrown Kim's attempt at bourbon chicken back at her and accused her of violating their human rights. Kim contemplated this as she shivered, curled up under the mound of blankets on her bed and questioning her life choices.

At one point, she'd been sure she had enough money to take the plunge and actually finish the 'Great American Novel' and then get it published. She'd even paid her rent up in anticipation of this monumental burst of creative expression. Now. . .?

Now she was huddled up under blankets in a freezing apartment she was probably going to get evicted from in a few days with no electricity and only catsup and mustard packets for nourishment. What a bunch of crap.

Oh, but then there was Elliot and Sylvia who'd been kind enough to give her a job, the perks of which had snuck up on her when she wasn't looking and enveloped her- it wasn't just the McKennas that were seducing her. It was a familiar stirring that whirled around her stomach when she thought of her maid's outfit.

In it she felt confident and comfortable; as though the world couldn't challenge her any more. It didn't look down on her, she wasn't broke and tired and cold; she was a symbol of someone who had their lives in order and who knew what it was to be dignified. Sure, Kim was rough around the edges, but the uniform smoothed those rough spots out until she was something more.

If not for the missing necklace, Kim would've been absolutely happy in that uniform. Happiness didn't have to be something reserved for people with money when she was that person. When she was their maid.

Kim chewed her lip as images of what could be filled her imagination. If she had some money, she could have bought some black stockings and contacts. Yes, contacts for her eyes, perhaps some body paint for her skin. . .

The McKennas wanted a catgirl maid. Kim could be that.

Kim wanted to be that. It had been so long since she'd been able to look at herself in the mirror, didn't she deserve that?

Couldn't she be happy again?

She could. She needed to. She deserved to.

Kim threw the covers off, prepared to face the day. Maid service didn't have to wait. . .

Tempting fate the entire drive out to the McKenna's household, Kim's old Pontiac sputtered up the drive just before six, coasting into her usual parking spot with just enough momentum to stop before it would've rolled into the grass. If she was lucky, she'd make it home and back out in the morning. If.

The cold air had done a lot to wake her up, clopping up the steps in her smartest low heels only re-enforced the notion that she'd made the right choice; she felt professional. Maybe even empowered. Clad in her black and white uniform and its frills brushing against her bare thighs, she was a woman of sophistication and poise. The cat ears spoke of playfulness and the tail. . .

Well, the tail kept tugging on her butt and fighting with her, teasing her with every swish of her finely swaying hips- a move she practiced as she trod up to the front door. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But it felt good to feel the gentle caress of the furry tail across her back side. Knowing that her employers would appreciate it even more just sealed the deal.

Kim tapped the door bell twice in quick succession.

It was funny how a twenty minute drive could change the world and one's perception. It was welcome, needed in so many ways; here she didn't have to think about her problems. She just needed to clean and be dignified. . . She could even ignore the gnawing in her stomach for a while when she felt wanted.

Wanted she was, too. She could see it when Elliot opened the door, wearing a towel and a thin coat of sweat glistening over his tanned body. His muscles were firm, well defined and curved in all the right ways to make him look strong without being a meat head- he was beautiful in the most sensuous of ways, powerful and hard without the ridiculous air of pretense.

Kim blinked, dumbfounded. "uh-"

"Well. . ." He looked her up and down slowly, a little grin at his lips. "That's a sight to wake up to. Come on in, kitten."

It took Kim a moment to realize he'd spoken, but she shuffled inside suddenly feeling very self conscious about where she stood with him. As she passed by, she caught a familiar wiff of something- musty and deep and primal. It warmed her nostrils like an old friend and almost immediately made her weak in the knees. It-he- smelled so familiar. . . Something she hadn't had in a long, long time.

Kim opened her mouth with a ready lame excuse for her being there so early but her voice died when she turned and saw the scar along Elliot's back; right under his left shoulder all the way down ran a ragged trench in his otherwise flawless skin. The scar had healed long ago, but it still marred his body like a mountain ridge. Unconsciously, she gasped.

"Hm? Oh. . . Heh. Sorry." Elliot started to walk around her. She grabbed his arm with an appologetic look.

"Sorry, I- um. Sorry."

"It happens. How about some breakfast?"

"Uh- S- sure. If you still trust my cooking."

"Now that's something we'lll just have to see. Let's try something simple like scrambled eggs, bacon and toast with some coffee."

"Sure." Kim started to turn.

"Sure?"

"Hm?" She looked back.

Even covered in sweat and smelling of fresh sex, Elliot McKenna's voice and posture were as firm and refined. "Sure what?"

"Oh-" Kim swallowed, blushing at her lapse of decorum. She curtsied deeply, looking up at him through her bangs and in her most practiced high-born accent, she said: "I apologize master McKenna. I guess I wasn't being mewself."

It was Elliot's turn to blink. He smirked at that. "Good, good. See to breakfast then."

"Of course, master McKenna." Kim sauntered into the kitchen, grinning to herself like an idiot. The grin faded when she got into the kitchen, intent on doing the job right. She was a maid, after all. A maid was meant to cook and clean and do other things. . .

She rubbed her hands together. Every day was an opportunity to get better.

Sylvia leaned back from her empty plate once they were both finished.. "Not bad. I like the milk in the eggs. . . It makes them fluffy."

"Thank you, mistress. They're soft scrambled."

"Hmph." Elliot nodded as he packed up his leather portfolio with his day's paperwork. He rose a few seconds later with a glance at Kim out of the corner of his eye that made her heart flutter; it was a look of appreciation and probably the most she'd get from him. It was all she needed, really.

What she got instead was something she couldn't have expected; as they filed past her back upstairs to start their days, Elliot fell behind and stroked her head gently, running his broad palm between her cat ears and down the back of her skull, combing her hair back with his powerful touch. He didn't stop until his hand touched the nape of her neck. Slowly, his palm came to rest on her collar bone and they eyed one another. "Mmm. . ." He said softly. "She was right about you." Without waiting for her to recover, Elliot went upstairs to get ready for work. "Feel free to get some breakfast if you want."

Kim managed to make it to the kitchen despite her wobbly knees. She leaned heavily against the counter with a fresh blush burning her face. She clenched her thighs together and took three quick breaths. "Stupid. Don't get caught up in this. . . Just focus."

While the McKennas got ready for their day, Kim busied herself with her own- modest- breakfast and cleaned up the table. Struck by an idea, she peeked around the wall when she heard someone coming down the stairs. Sylvia. Of course it would be Sylvia. . .

"Ah, mistress. Would you like me to cook- er, prepare- something for lunch for Elliot? Is there time?"

The woman glanced up, then settled her dual-tone gaze on their maid. "That's thoughtful. Sure, go ahead."

Kim scuttled back into the kitchen and slapped a couple of sandwiches together as quickly as she could. When it came to trying to find a Tupperware container, that was another story entirely; no matter what cupboard she dug through, it seemed that the little containers had all taken a hike at her expense. Vaguely, she heard someone heading through the front door, but that could have been an artifact from the old house, too.

Kim stuffed everything together in a small bag with utensils and turned to rush it out only to find Sylvia standing in the way. "Excuse-"

"He left."

"But-"

"You were too slow." She stated firmly. "Now you're wasting our food, too."

Kim frowned. "If he's not far out, we could call him or-"

Sylvia cut her off by twirling her finger around in a 'turn around' motion, her brown and green eyes casually indifferent to the slightly apprehensive catgirl maid. Kim swallowed and stuttered, trying to find her voice.

Her confidence fell away as the woman entered the kitchen, stalking forward and driving her into the back mere inches away. When she felt her back hit the wall, Kim jerked forward in surprise, bumping into Sylvia.

That, it turned out, was a mistake.

Before she could react, Sylvia batted her hands away and grabbed one wrist, turning her face first against the wall, pressing her lithe body, hard and unforgiving into the maid's back. Her breath was minty against Kim's ear. "I don't like people that can't keep up, Kimberly. . ." Sylvia's free hand cupped Kim's ass perfectly, her nails digging playfully into the fringe of the velvet dress and clawing the ultra sensitive flesh underneath. She purred deeply while her hand gripped and slackened against Kim's rump.

"B- But, mistress, you said. . ." Sylvia's hand brushed against her tail and she mewled into the wall. Even though she'd never admit it, she clenched the plug inside so tightly she was sure it was going to crack. She wanted her tail pulled. Shewanted to be reminded what it was like to be the beta in the odd relationship she had with them. More than that, she wanted to be a good maid.

You didn't get there without a little remedial training. Kim whimpered as Sylvia's fingers raked down her thigh, kissing her leg with the needling prickle of sharp fingernails. She promptly dragged them back up to Kim's flank.

Kim whimpered again, glancing back. "I'm sorry, Mistress. . . I'll- I'll do better."

"Mrrrm. . ." Sylvia dragged her nails across Kim's butt. "Will you?"

"Y- Of course, Mistress. I'm at fault and- eep!" Kim jumped when Sylvia slapped her ass firmly.

"Good." The younger woman eased up a little bit to let Kim breathe. "I want a massage today. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I- I-" SLAP "Yes!" Kim whined. "Yesmistress!"

"Good. Now, I'm going to go into town and while I'm gone, I expect the house cleaned up and everything taken care of. I want these floors scrubbed, too, Elliot's been tracking mud in here, it's disgusting. Understand?"

"Y- Yes." Kim coughed. "Yes, mistress."

"Good." Sylvia eased back so gently that Kim wasn't sure if she'd let go until she couldn't feel the pressure on her flanks any longer. When she finally dared a look back she saw that the woman was gone and she was alone in the kitchen, trembling like a leaf.

"Christ," she muttered as she turned and slumped against the wall. Secretly, however, when no one could have seen her, she bit her lower lip and clenched her thighs together tightly and wondered just what the 'massage' would entail.

"Ah, mistress?" Kim ventured carefully as she explored the second floor. She'd heard the shower running a few minutes earlier and between cleaning up the bedroom and sorting out the laundry that had been left in the dryer the night before, she found time to make another search for the necklace.

Still nothing on that front either.

It was frustrating, even terrifying, but still she had a job to do and after last night, she was probably already on thin ice. Maids didn't keep their job if they couldn't provide good service and Kim had done anything but provide good service, in fact she'd been going at this entire job wrong. She was a terrible maid and an even worse facilitator.

Sure, Sylvia was kind of a bitch. . .

Sure, she made Kim weak in the knees. . .

Sure enough. . .

Kim swallowed back on the lump in her throat and hefted herself up. She was a maid, more than that, she was their maid. She could do this. It wasn't like working at Bristol Myer, she wasn't doing complex calculations and that inane crap any more. She could be a professional catgirl maid.

"Yeah, I can do this." Kim squared her shoulders. "Mistress?"

"Down here!" Sylvia said from downstairs. When Kim made her way down, she found the door to the painting room opened and a soft flowing tune humming from a radio inside. Kim carefully edged her way up to the door and gave a knock. "Come in, kitten."

Kim rounded the corner and faltered in mid step. What she saw set her heart slamming against her generous chest. Sylvia was standing in the middle of the room in front of a folding massage table, bracing her hand on the table as she stretched out- and stretch she did.

Wearing nothing but a towel, it was only because she was facing Kim that she wasn't putting everything on display. The soft cloth hugged her form, accenting her modest bust and her tight core, but more than that, it showed off how strong she was- Sylvia's body was lithe, firm and powerful in ways Kim could only marvel at, and at that moment Sylvia was proudly displaying that power as she arched her back in a near perfect C while she pulled her foot from over her shoulder.

The woman's dual tone gaze settled on Kim, a catty, challenging smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. There was something in those eyes that sent a shiver up Kim's spine- one she couldn't suppress and almost instantly regretted. Sylvia grinned at her maid's reaction and eased her foot forward a little bit more until it touched her shoulder.

Kim couldn't help it; she silently wanted that towel to slip and fall from her employer's body. No one that beautiful should have hidden themselves, not when they taunted people with their beauty. Oh, but she could taunt Kim. . .

As if reading her mind, Sylvia let her foot go, extending her leg out to its full length, rolling her body in seductive feline roll like a cat waking up in no hurry to face the world. Slowly, she righted herself with a contented groan and laid her hands on the bench, eying Kim with a newly predatory smirk.

Kim's brain ground to a halt as she watched the woman smiling- the realization of what she had just witnessed and that something; that glint in her eyes. "Uh. . ."

"I want a massage." Sylvia tapped the padded table. When Kim didn't immediately jump to serve, she reached under the pad, producing a bag of oils which she tossed at her maid. "Is that a problem?"

"Ah. . . No, no mistress, it's not." Kim swallowed, clasped her hands over the bag and lowered her head demurely. Of course she peeked up when Sylvia climbed up on the table- watching her prowling form sprawl out on the table was worth the risk of being discovered doing so. When the younger brunette was settle down, she undid the knot in her towel and pushed it down to cover her butt.

"You're lucky, you know." Sylvia said calmly as she settled her pillow down under her head, turning to glance up at Kim with her green eye. "I never let a stranger touch me."

Kim opened the bag, checking over the oils quickly- strangely, all of them had lables announcing how edible they were. She glanced at the resting woman with an uncertain expression. "Ah. . . Their loss, I'm sure. But Uh-" she held up a bottle of vanilla oil. "Mistress, do you have a preference?"

"Mmmm..." Sylvia looked her up and down. "Surprise me."

Vanilla it was. Kim started to unclasp her cuffs, stopped when Sylvia cleared her throat and shook her head. Kim stretched out her fingers, drawing a deep breath to gather her courage. She rubbed her hands together a few seconds to generate some heat and uncapped the bottle, pouring some oil into her hand. "If I may-"

Sylvia cut her off. "You may."

"How does. . . How does the mistress like to be massaged?"

"First." Sylvia shook her right foot to get attention. Kim took it gently in her hands and started working her thumbs into the woman's foot carefully. "Secondly, I'myour mistress. For as long as you're here, you're our maid, kitten."

"Or kitten maid."

"Hmph."

Kim relaxed a bit as her confidence grew and she started to massage into Sylvia's ankle, one inch at a time paying homage to the younger woman's power and beauty the way a servant should have. She'd spoken out of turn, now she was going to have to make it up to her mistress. "I'm sorry, mistress. . . It's a habit. I've always been kind of, ah, casual?"

"Mmm, is that right? Well, let's try again. . ."

Kim re-oiled her hands, sliding her hands up to start working into Sylvia's ankle. She'd been right, the young woman was stronger than she'd first looked- she had the body of a runner; one that seemed ready to give in to Kim's attentions. "What- what would you wish of me, mistress?"

"Mmm. . ."

Kim inched up a little higher, taking the firm muscles of Sylvia's calf in one hand and rubbing oil into either side of her lower leg. She took full advantage of her position, eying the woman's toned back and the tight curve of her waist flowing to her modest yet perfectly holdable hips. . . Oh, but her butt.

She was one of those rare women that could set Kim's entire body tingling; Sylvia could have done a hell of a lot more than that if she'd even raised her finger the right way. It was only right that her maid, then, showed her the proper respect. Kim's hands trembled and she dared edge up a little higher near the base of the woman's thigh. Her pulse quickened as she eased her thumb up the woman's tanned flesh.

"Kitten?"

"Uh- Y- Yes?"

"You're shaking."

"Sorry, mistress. I. . . It's been a while."

"Mmm. You're off to a good start."

"Thank you, mistress."

Sylvia rotated her feet while Kim tenderly explored her compact body, gently easing her thumbs into her hard muscles and taking every chance she could to test the limits of her permission. As her heart slammed against her ribs, Kim massaged her thumbs into the younger woman's inner thigh. She slid up further, breath held.

"Kimberly. . ."

"M- Mistress. . ."

"You serve us."

Kim blinked. "I- Yes, mistress, of course I do."

"Then stop shaking. . ." She opened her eye, glancing back over her shoulder. "Serve me."

"I-" She could do this. "Mistress, I think we have different ideas of what constitutes servitude. . ."

"Is that so?" Sylvia reached over and tugged the towel off to the ground. "Any questions?"

Kim was stunned- her voice died on her lips as she stood in open mouthed awe at the sight of the woman's perfectly rounded muscular butt, now fully exposed and even tilted up at her in offering! Kim blinked a few times while her cheeks burned hotter and hotter. It wasn't just the curvaceous butt being all but offered to the catgirl maid- it was the glimmer of moisture on Sylvia's hairless lips. Her mistress was enjoying this, more than that, she was aroused by it. . .

Kim swallowed and mumbled indistinctly. Unconsciously, she brought her hand to Sylvia's butt to work the vanilla oil into her flesh. "M- My pleasure. . . Mistress."

"Mm. That's more like it."

It took Kim a second to work up the courage to fill her hands with more oil, even more to lay those hands on Sylvia's body- she slid her hands down the curve of the younger woman's butt, pressing inward against her flanks, all the while holding her breath. She knew better than to disobey, but if Elliot came in, there was no way she'd be able to explain.

But who was she to refuse the wishes of her mistress? Kim rubbed her thumbs in between her employer's cheeks, sliding up and raking her fingertips across the woman's flanks. She earned a murr of approval for her efforts, spurring her on to greater confidence with every passing second. Kim dared slide her hands up Sylvia's hips, easing her palms down into the woman's lower back and then upward, to praise her mistress's beauty.

This was what it was to be their maid. Kim smiled at the thought as she worked upward. Her thumbs worked inward and upward with each breath and for every inch of the lithe woman's body Kim was allowed to touch.

Sylvia sighed softly. "Good kitten. . ."

"M-" It was right. "Mew. . ."

"Mmm. Again. You're getting better at this, and those hands of yours-" The younger woman arched her back, welcoming Kim's touch. "Mmmmrrrrm. Purr for me, kitten."

"Y- Yes, mistress." Kim leaned forward, working her hands into her employer's shoulders more firmly. She stopped just shy of kissing the young woman and murred in her ear. There was no point in lying or hiding it any more. . . She purred deeply for her mistress, nuzzling into her warmth. "My mistress is very beautiful. She deserves everything she wishes."

Sylvia didn't miss a beat. "She does, which is why she asks for so much from her kitty. . ."

Kim sighed in her ear, a deeply resonant purr that felt good- felt right for Kim. Then she broke the unwritten rule; she kissed Sylvia's ear.

"Down."

"Mew. . ."

"You're being naughty, you know what happens when you're naughty."

"My apologies, mistress- I thought-"

"Shh."

"Yes, mistress."

Sylvia gently raised her hands out in front of her while Kim continued to work her shoulders and eventually her neck. After several moments, she glanced up at Kim out of the corner of her eye and cracked a secret grin, teasing the catgirl maid playfully. She'd found exactly what she wanted and they both knew it. . . "Kimberly?"

"Mistress?"

"Do you enjoy this?"

"Very much so. . ."

"Good, because I want to be right about you."

Kim worked her way up the woman's arms slowly lathering her up with vanilla oil to the tips of her fingers. She came around the front of the table so she could get a better angle and rub the soft oil into every muscle of Sylvia's hands, up her arms. Kim swallowed, trembling slightly as she made a quiet choice- her supplication came as she lowered herself to to her knees and took the woman's shoulders, looking up at her mistress atop the table. The content smile the younger woman wore was all the praise she needed.

Why had she never done this before? Kim caught herself smiling. Yes, this was where she belonged. . . A catgirl maid. Why had she never thought of that?

Sylvia turned her gaze up a bit to meet Kim's gaze. They looked at one another for a moment, something flashed in her eyes; a silent command; a reminder of their positions. Kim lowered her gaze obediently and whispered a 'mew'.

"My, my. . ." The woman ran her fingers through Kim's hair. "I was right about you."

"Yes, mistress. . . Er- right about what?" Kim started to look up but the younger woman touched the crown of her skull.

"Don't."

"As you wish, mistre-"

"Shh." Her fingers trailed down Kim's neck, gradually sliding under her chin. Only when she pulled upward was Kim allowed to raise her gaze. Sylvia smiled gently. "You forgot my other leg."

"I-"

"Sh. Don't speak. Fix it."

Kim nodded, started to rise; Sylvia stopped her with nothing but a touch. She looked up again to be guided with a glance to the side of the table. So she followed her mistress's orders and crawled around the side on her knees. Sylvia swung her legs over the side, balancing her weight dangerously close to the edge- there was not the slightest hint of shame in her eyes as she looked down on Kim, hands braced on the edge of the table.

"Uh. . ." Kim couldn't help but let her gaze wander the woman's glistening body. She'd been in that position plenty of times before, but somehow this was new territory for her. The woman leaned forward just a little more causing the table to tilt dangerously.

"Hm? Hard to get to where you want to? She threw her un-oiled leg up on the table casually doing half splits with as much effort as someone would use to raise their arm. Sylvia leaned back with a smug grin. "Well. . .?"

"Um. . . C- Can I-" Kim gestured weekly with her bottle of oil. "May I, mistress?"

"You may. Try applying it with your tongue."

"W- What?" Kim blushed deeply. "Y- Yes, mistress." Her hands trembled as she prepared some oil. She lapped it from her palm- it was a surprisingly warm, gentle flavor. She turned her gaze up to Sylvia, questioningly.

"Well?"

Where was she even supposed to start? "Mewww. . ." Kim tried to rise a bit but Sylvia stopped her, they looked at one another with Kim face to lip with Sylvia's moist nether lips. Kim looked down, then up at her mistress. She leaned in, vaguely aware that Sylvia cupping the back of her head. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Kim closed her eyes, head turned down, savoring the closeness and heat- it'd been entirely too long since she'd done this. She nuzzled gently against Sylvia's inner thigh, bathing in the woman's warmth and power. Obedient, eager to serve, she kissed the younger woman's muscles and slowly, so very slowly, she ran her tongue along the thickest tendon she could find all the way to Sylvia's knee and then slowly back towards her crotch.

If there was any doubts left in Kim's mind, Sylvia erased them by digging her fingertips into the back of Kim's head. It was time to serve her mistress. Kim whimpered at the opportunity, looking up through her bangs. Sylvia was looking down at her with a calm, knowing expression. "Say it."

"S- Say what, mistress?"

"Start by apologizing." She brought her other leg down and casually hooked both of them over Kim's shoulders, pinning her in between her powerful thighs. "Apologize for not doing the job right the first time." Kim whimpered a bit louder. "I didn't stutter, did I?"

"N- No mistress. I'm sorry- I-" Sylvia silenced her pathetic excuse for an apology by crossing her legs and pulling her in lip-to-lip. Kim felt her entire body clench; this was forbidden, this was wrong- Sylvia was married for gods' sake. . .

Why was it, then, that Kim was reaching up? Why wasn't she stopping herself from wrapping her hands around Sylvia's waist? It was insane, dangerous. It was also her employer's wish and who was she to tell her no? "Mmm. . ." Kim drank in the smell of vanilla body oil and Sylvia's lavender body wash, purring softly while her hands eased down to cup her mistress's hips.

"Good girl," Sylvia ran her fingers through Kim's hair, playing with her cat ears a bit as her thighs clenched. Kim was earning this privilege, she'd been given a treat, that was it. . .

"Mew. . ."

Sylvia continued to pet her maid, taking in long, deep breaths that reverberated through her entire body- anticipation and demand. Kim belonged on her knees before people like this. She should've been proud to be there. "Louder."

Kim's heart thundered loud enough to hear echoing between thighs that could have broken her in two. She gripped the woman's hips and whimpered a low, lusty meow- "mrrroowww..." - she kissed Sylvia's glistening lips deeply.

Her reward was an instantly tightened grip on the back of her head. Sylvia inhaled sharply while Kim lapped at every drop of moisture she could find- she savored the younger woman's natural flavor, she ran her tongue up to Sylvia's clit and kissed it tenderly. As she did so, she eased her finger tips inward to grip her employer's ass cheeks.

It had been so long since she'd been allowed to do this, she couldn't help herself; Kim's courage swelled and she lowered head, taking one lip between her own and massaging it to Sylvia's murmuring sigh. Encouraged, the curvaceous maid lapped faster and more eagerly into Sylvia's wetness. It wasn't long before she'd earned a treat- Sylvia dug her heel into Kim's back, rolling her hips forward.

"Ahh- right there- rightthere." Sylvia rolled her hips faster into Kim's attentions, spurring her on with every movement. She knew what she wanted out of Kim and she knew exactly how to take it- she balled up a hand full of Kim's hair, tightening her grip even more.

Kim whimpered loudly, dutifully massaging her mistress within the increasing tightness of Sylvia's legs. Pinned in, she had no choice but to continue- an obedient maid was a good maid. A good girl. Kim suckled at Sylvia's lips, darting her tongue in between them- in and out, faster and faster, pressing her own desire to pleasure her mistress into every moment.

Sylvia's breath was coming shorter and sharper, harder. "Ah- ah. .. ahh. .." Her painfully sharp fingernails dug into Kim's skull but she wasn't paying attention any more. She didn't care anyway- she didn't have to. "Ah-"

"Mrrrw!" Kim mewled to the jingle-jangle of her collar bell, forcing her tongue into her mistress's hot, depths. This earned a deeper moan and an even tighter grip. Her entire body shivered, Sylvia let go of Kim's head to palm her own breasts, head tilted back and mouth hanging open.

A long sigh echoed through the paint room. "G-uhhh."

That sound alone was enough to send Kim's heart into overdrive; this was where she belonged and more importantly, this who she was. "Mew!"

"G- g- good kitten! V- very-. . ." Sylvia pulled her in. Her body spasmed- "ah- ah-" Even harder. In the next instant a loud moan erupted from the sun kissed beauty and she threw her head back, jerking forward into Kim's face as her orgasm rocked her.

Kim was trapped there for what felt like a beautiful eternity, forced to watch her mistress cum- a sight she'd earned through her service. "Mrrrrrr."

"G-" She panted and braced her hands behind her. The mix of massage oil and bathed her body in a sheen of afterglow and lust; both of which she wore like a silk dress. She looked down on Kim, face red and breath still coming in short sips. "You're a good kitten."

Kim mewed.

"Again."

Again? Kim whimpered and kissed Sylvia's groin. It wasn't her place to question. . . Only to serve.

Sylvia stopped her. "Not that. Stop, kitty. . ."

"Mrr?"

"Again. . ." She playfully pushed Kim's head back and clenched her thighs to hold her there. Once firmly secure, she started to pet Kim, stroking her hair back. Those deep green and brown mismatched eyes watched her captive with a mix of amusement and appreciation. "Say it again." She demanded.

"Mew?"

"Mmm. . ." She let out a huff. "You. . . You, I'm going to keep." She let that statement hang in the air between them and began to stroke Kim's cheek. "Yes, you're a good kitten."

"Mrrrrowww. . . I'm glad my mistress approves."

That earned a chuckle. "Mmm. . . Do you enjoy thi-"

"Yes, mistress." Kim met her gaze calmly, leaning in to nuzzle into the woman's thighs. She slid her fingers down between the sweaty crack of Sylvia's cheeks, smiling all the while. "I. . ." There was no point in modesty- "I really like this."

Sylvia leaned back, still holding Kim tight between her legs. "Good. Good girl. . ."

"Mrrrrrrr."

"Like that, do you?"

Kim slid her fingers a tiny bit lower and palmed Sylvia's ass playfully. "Mmhm. . ."

Sylvia grinned. "I'm going to keep you." She asserted and gradually reclaimed her legs with some difficulty. "Thank you."

Kim blinked. "Mistress?" Before she could move, though, Sylvia braced herself on her maid's head for support. "You're welcome?"

"No. No, you never say that to me. . . It was you're pleasure."

"That's not far from the truth." Kim rubbed at her neck.

"Heh. Now. . ." The younger woman turned and swung the towel over her shoulder, prowling across the room with a luxurious sway. "Find my necklace."

"Ah, dammit. . ."

There was a problem with sharing a secret with someone who was in a position of power; they could hold it over you in any way they wanted. Fortunately for Kim, Sylvia didn't seem interested in pushing that as far as she could.

That didn't make it any easier, though. Kim spent the entire afternoon tearing the house apart, cleaning behind her destruction and straightening up everything she could to at least give the appearance she was doing her job.

She was so deep in her cleaning rampage, she almost forgot to set dinner cooking. It was only because she passed a mantle clock that she notice and actually managed to get a ham roast started along with a side dish of potatoes and something resembling corn on the cob- at least it had been before she'd rolled it in paprika and rum.

Sylvia had picked up on the spicy bite while Kim was cooking and poked her head in to the kitchen to complain- unfortunately for Kim it was rigth as she was bent over with her head in the oven checking the roast. The poor maid wasn't expecting anything and nearly jumped out of her skin when something pulled on her tail.

"Shit!" Kim exhaled sharply. "Gah- uh. . . Mistress? I'm kind of. . . busy."

"I know." Sylvia said indifferently as she pushed on the plug. Her hand then casually traveled over Kim's flank to cup her butt. Despite herself, Kim braced her hands on the oven, easing back into the touch- and out of the way of any overhang so she didn't bang her head. "You look best like this, I think." She slapped Kim's ass playfully.

"Ah!"

"Now what's so spicy?"

"I uh. . . I was experimenting with the corn."

"Corn? Corn. . ."

"Corn." Kim looked back. Sylvia was eying her ass with a smug grin. "Corn, yes. . ."

"You're still wet."

Kim coughed. "Ah, mistress. . . If you don't like corn, I can prepare something else?"

"Do so." She grinned, turning to the dining room. "He hates corn and so do I."

"My apologies. . ."

"Don't apologize. You know better. . ." She looked to Kim. "You know how you apologize to me."

Kim blinked, staring in confusion. Then it occurred to her. "A- a massage?"

"Sharp as you are cute. Good girl. I've got an unveiling to attend tomorrow, so I won't be around, but I expect you to take care of Master McKenna. Do you understand?"

"Ahm. . . Y- Yes, mistress. I. . ."

"Hm?"

"It would be my pleasure?"

Sylvia grinned all the wider, patted the wall. "I knew I was right about you. Take care of us properly and I'll ensure you get all the treats you can handle."

"M- yes mistress. . ."

"Good."

Not for the first time, Kim whimpered and wondered what she'd gotten herself into. . .

"Oh, and one more thing. . . The necklace." She paused seeming to consider her words. "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of things."

"B- But-"

"It's not your fault. Really, don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

Dinner went off much better than it had Thursday, but by the end of the day Kim was exhausted. She stood by quietly as the McKennas finished off their desert- Kim's bastardized attempt at sautéed peaches. Given the day's activities it seemed appropriate and Sylvia seemed to be in on the humor, too; she spent a great deal of time 'savoring' the taste of two pieces of one she'd speared with her fork while looking her husband in the eye.

For all the innuendo and foreplay though, Kim couldn't bring herself to laugh. She wondered what Elliot would say if he knew- assuming he didn't already. God how could she have been so stupid. . .

No. She wasn't being stupid.

Kim straightened up when Sylvia rose, chin up and shoulders squared. She was their servant. She was in the right. "May I get you anything else?"

"No. Good work today. . . I expect better tomorrow."

"Ah. . . Of course, mistress."

With that Sylvia headed upstairs to do whatever it was Kim could never catch her doing. Elliot, meanwhile, leaned back in his chair and threw his hand over it like a teenager trying to be cool. He looked at Kim with a smirk.

"Ah. . . Something wrong?"

"Did you have a good day?"

"I- I was in good company, how could I not?"

"Mmm. Yeah, I guess. You know, she doesn't like most people. She had- well. Let's say she didn't have a good upbringing. So she tends to take it out on others, but you seem to have sparked something in her. She actually called me today to tell me that you were doing a good job. . .

"Oh. . . ah. I try?"

"I know you do. So, can I ask? Everything okay at home?"

"Ah. . ." Kim fidgeted. "As well as can be expected."

"You sure?" He asked as if the very thought of lying would be an anathema to language. Firm, demanding, authoritative. Kim rubbed her neck and sighed. "You can tell me, I'm not going to do anything stupid- if you need help, though. We're here, all right?"

"Uh. T- Thanks, Elliot. Just a little tight on a couple fronts, but it'll work itself out, I- um. . . Going to be honest? I also kind of. . ."

"Go on."

"Ienjoythis." Kim blushed, looking away. "I really like you both and I hope I'm not screwing things up too badly."

"Well. . ." Elliot rose smoothly and pushed his chair in. He turned on Kim and cupped her chin, smiling slightly all the while. "Just stay away from the chicken for a while and I think we'll be all right."

Kim tried to hang her head but Elliot stopped her. She looked up to his tired face and for just a moment she caught a flash of something else in his eyes, something warm and gentle just under the surface. Instinctively, she turned her head into his hand and purred gently. "Thank you, master McKenna. . ."

"You're welcome, kitty. . ." He stroked her head gently. "Why don't you head home and get some rest? I'll clean up here."

"It's no problem-"

"I insist." He prowled his hand through her hair slowly, smiling a little as he did. "Hey, Kim?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for this. . ."

It was her turn to smile. "It's meow pleasure."

7: Saturday

Kim bounded up the steps just before eight AM, her bell choker playfully announcing her presence with its jingle. She did a quick once over of her uniform to make sure everything was in place; cuffs at her wrists, waist apron tied snugly to accent her curves and, above all, the velvet uniform snug against her generous breasts, putting maybe just a tad too much cleavage on display.

That didn't bother Kim. Not at all. Mister- no, Master McKenna seemed to enjoy when she wore her uniform tucked in a little bit. She might not have been as confident in it as he thought she should be, but she couldn't deny the looks he gave her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. . .

She practiced her smile as she knocked on the door.

When Elliot came to the door he had a box tucked under his arm and a cup of coffee in his hand. His tall, proud frame occupied just enough of the doorway to make seeing inside impossible, but the smell of dust and musty books told her he'd been moving things around. "Hey, you. . ." He smiled. "Got a special project today, if you're interested?"

"If it's your wish, master McKenna," Kim tried for a modest but professional tone.

"Mmm, it just might be. Come in, go ahead and get started on the ground floor, I'm working on the upstairs-"

"You don't have to do that, I can-"

"Let me finish." He said with a surprising sharpness. Kim drew back, clasped her hands in front of herself, lowering her head in apology. "I'm going to have to get some supplies from the attic and the study is being changed a bit- I decided to turn half of it into a home office. Once I have it put together, It's going to need cleaning."

Kim actually paused for a second, not sure if she should speak. When she was sure he was finished she nodded. "Would you like me to help you move things around?"

If there was one thing that could be said about Elliot- aside from how his strong jaw gave him a dignified air- it was that he wasn't shy about what he thought about something. With one long sweep of his deep brown eyes, his gaze roamed Kim and her tighter fighting uniform. He met her eyes with perfect calm- unnervingly confident in his place.

She earned a little smirk of approval. A good start to the last day of the week, she decided and smiled back at him. "Is this more to your liking, master McKenna?"

He looked her over again, smirking. "Yes and no."

"Hm?"

"You don't need the help. . . I think it's beneath you to try that tactic." She pointed his cup at her in playful accusation. "But I approve all the same."

"Ah, if it bothers you-"

"I didn't say that.. . ." Another sip, his gaze met hers and held it firmly. "I don't want you resorting to tricks. I like you the way you are."

Kim felt her cheeks warm. "I- um. You do?"

"I do."

"Ah, well, if- if I may, I had some ideas? About the uniform?"

"We'll talk about that later. Tonight, maybe."

"T- Tonight it is." Kim smiled.

As Elliot headed upstairs, she turned her attention to the living room and began her daily routine- with a familiarity born from practice and a desire to please her employers, she wiped everything down with near mechanical precision and ease. By the time Elliot had come back down she was already half way done with the kitchen and moving into the dining room.

She could feel Elliot's gaze on her when she started to lean over to wipe the table as if it was a physical thing. Knowing better than to disappoint, she leaned just that much further over, straining to reach a spot and its invisible dirt. She'd been wearing her horizontal striped panties again which earned her a soft 'mrm' from the entry to the living room.

Kim looked back over her shoulder at Elliot with a coy expression and about as much false innocence as she could muster. It wasn't even remotely convincing, not even to her. He just tipped his cup back and took a drink, unashamedly watching while she cleaned.

In that position, half bent over with her bare thighs and a good portion of her ass on display to her master, Kim became acutely aware of just how heavy the table under her was. It could have supported her weight, maybe more if it had to. She placed a hand on it to brace herself and gave a push forward to try and jostle it- it didn't give.

Elliot scoffed and turned to the study.

"You idiot. . ." Kim kicked herself mentally. She was supposed to be behaving, not trying to seduce her employer! Though, despite this, she didn't feel ashamed as maybe she should have. Hell, she hadn't felt ashamed when she'd been 'forced' to serve her mistress. . .

Too much, too fast. He was the one who set the pace- maybe he didn't even want anything to do with her. Maybe she was going to be Sylvia's toy maid. Kim frowned at that thought; maybe she'd just offended her master.

Kim quickly finished cleaning the table and dusted off the rest of the dining room and living room, paying special attention to the window sills which always seemed to attract a lot of dust. By the time she was done, the entire place was spotless and ready for the broom. She was improving, even to her own eyes. For some reason, it made her feel better; as though the act of cleaning and the knowledge she'd become a better maid for the McKennas had some psychological impact on her. Maybe it did.

After all, it'd been a long time since anyone had validated her. Yeah, it felt good. It felt right.

Kim took this attitude to the study with her head held slightly higher and a very slight smile on her lips. "Ah, Elliot. . ."

"Hm?" He said, hefting a box of books to add to a growing stack. "What's up?"

"I. . ." How was she going to do this? She exhaled. "I think I might owe you an apology. I may have offended you and, uh. . ."

"Maybe you did." He said calmly as he set the box down. "Maybe you assumed when you shouldn't have." He looked at her thoughtfully, a little smile creeping over his features. When she didn't jump to apologize, he stepped into her space, towering over her. His body absolutely radiated calm power, as if nothing could have stirred him.

Kim had a choice to make and neither option that crossed her mind seemed like the right way to go. Meekly, she lowered her gaze and whispered, "I'm sorry, Master McKenna."

"Are you?" His breath was soft and smelled of toothpaste. He touched her cheek, daring her to look up. His thick, powerful finger trailed along her jaw, down her neck and he cupped her shoulder. "How sorry?"

"M-" Was she really going to? "Master?"

She was, it seemed.

Elliot squeezed her shoulder but he didn't push her to her knees- he didn't even invite or demand her to. Even if she wanted him to. She wanted to know she was doing what he wanted, she needed to feel validated. . . She turned her gaze up, eying him through her bangs. "M- Mew?"

"Mmm. . ." He leaned in to whisper. "I appreciate the inattentive," slowly his hand trailed down her arm. He stood watching her with calm, gentle eyes that never seemed to waver. He took in a deep pull of her scent and sighed it out across her ear, sending shivers down her spine and causing her skin to bristle with goosebumps. Before she even had a chance to speak he was drawing back and callously, he turned back to the study.

Kim whimpered to his back. She only realized what she was doing after she had done it and covered her mouth. Elliot cast a brief glance back at her- he knew damn well the effect he'd had on her, though. There was no way he couldn't have.

God when had she turned into such a kid? She was older than her employers and yet. . .

And yet she knew her place among them. She lowered her head, clasped her hands in front of her waist and swallowed. "I'm sorry, master."

"I know," was all he said.

Not sure what she was supposed to make of that response, Kim wandered back into the living room and looked around for a moment. The man was an enigma; too cool to be read easily and too warm to be a hard ass. He was frustrating. Kim sighed, grabbing her feather duster from the hidden cubby behind the couch. En-route back to the hall way, she started by intently wiping down the furniture and between the posts of the staircase. All the while she couldn't shake that feeling she was being watched, that naughty itch in the back of her mind that told her she owed her employer more of an apology.

It was stupid, but it made her tingle nervously. If she went too fast, if she tried too hard, she risked upsetting her master- god, she had a master now?- and possibly loosing her job. Kim dutifully cleaned the hall way and the bathroom with her growing efficiency, trying to put Elliot's 'advance' out of her mind. It wasn't going well.

She emerged from the bathroom with her cleaning rag in hand to find Elliot walking by right at the same time with a stack of boxes in hand. She bounded up the steps, keenly aware of how her cleavage jiggled against her uniform. Elliot seemed to notice, too; he turned on her and handed her a small box which she took without comment.

Not a word passed between them as they shuffled the boxes upstairs and emptied out the study, leaving a huge swath of room in the corner for his home office and plenty of dirt lining the wall and base boards. "Well, ahm, should I start cleaning?"

"Not yet," Elliot said firmly as he stepped around her. That's when she saw the box in the opposite corner; one of those cheap press board computer desks that needed to be assembled. Kim wanted to say something about how it, but it wasn't really her place to speak up, was it?

"M- Master?"

Elliot glanced up at her.

"Would you like something to eat? You've been working hard. . ."

A brief smile crossed his face. "After I finish the desk."

"As you wish. . ."

He looked over at her as he squatted down beside the box and smirked a lopsided grin. "You don't really have a bad angle do you?"

"Huh?" After a second, it clicked and she blushed deeply, fidgeting under his gaze. She lowered her gaze. "T- Thank you, master."

"Are you done down here?"

"Y- Yes."

"You sure?"

"Uh- Oh, the painting room! Ah, no, I need to finish that."

"Lying to me, Kimberly?" He tsked. "Turn around."

Kim blinked. "Uh. . ." Her blush spread out over her face like hot water. "M- I'm sorry, it-"

"Shh." He said firmly. "Turn around." The younger man stood up slowly with a light smirk pulling at his lips. He stepped into her space with a predatory strut, closing the distance between them with calm grace. Elliot's demanding heat made Kim tremble and unconsciously shrink back against the wall. There was nowhere she could go, though; she was trapped. "I said turn around."

Kim whimpered, trembling in the wake of his powerful presence. He didn't even have to try to make her weak and he knew it. She threw her hands out against the wall to brace herself, looking back up at her master. "Mew. . .?"

Elliot pressed his chest into her back and began to speak in a low, husky voice. "I don't like being lied to, Kimberly."

"I- I- I-"

"You. . .? What, kitten. Speak up."

A full body shudder rippled through her. "I'msorrymaster. I made a mistake."

His breath was hot against her neck, his body pressing her against the wall but he never touched her with his hands. He knew she wasn't going to resist him, but he wasn't trying to assert himself. Why? Had she been so bad that she wasn't worthy of his touch? This thought made her mewl out pathetically by way of apology. He had to know she wasn't intentionally trying to disappoint him. He had to know! "I'm sorry!"

"Shhh." He whispered. "I don't want to hear it, Kimberly. . . I asked for something simple, you're not new to this, are you?"

Was she supposed to speak? Of course she was, she'd been asked a question. She opened her mouth.

"Shh." Elliot touched her lips with his finger. "I said no."

She whimpered, looking up to him over her shoulder. Submissively, she nodded and turned her gaze down.

"Good." He shifted some of his weight to her, causing her to arch her back. "She's trained you well, hasn't she?"

Kim nodded.

"Not well enough, apparently."

Those words bit into Kim. Deeply. She'd tried to be a good maid for them, she'd tried hard to be a good girl, she'd worked hard and to loose all that because she'd forgotten something simple? Kim whined softly, mewling out a pathetic apology.

"Maybe I should leave you like this while I work. . . Don't you think you should be corrected?"

Kim hung her head between her arms and sighed. "Yes master. . ."

A finger trailed down between her shoulders, following the ridges of her spine to her lower back- Elliot eased up on her and soon the finger was replaced by his full hand stroking down her back to cup her thick, grippable ass. He gripped her- he held what was his- and said, with utter finality: "I want you to stay here. Like this."

Kim arched her back deeper, sliding her hands up the wall so they were touching- she knew the effect it would have to put her curvy butt on display. With a little effort she managed to draw her knees together to flatter what her master wanted to see. When she felt his touch draw back and his heat ease back from her, she tensed her thighs for his benefit.

She might have failed him, but she could make it up. He deserved it. "I'm sorry, master."

"It's all right." He said as he wandered over to his project and started unpacking the desk. "You've had a long week, haven't you?" Wood clattered along with some tools, Elliot muttered something, completely indifferent to his maid's posture. "I think you're enjoying this, though. I know how hard it is for someone like you to find a job you can get into. . ."

"Or a job that gets into me. . ." Kim whispered.

Elliot continued sorting through his desk project for a while and once he had everything in place he paused. "Kimberly."

"Y- Master?"

"Do you dance?"

"I- not usually. . ."

"Shame." He went about putting together his new desk. "Sylvia might teach you, but you have to be good to earn that privilege, don't you think?"

Kim swallowed. "Y- Yes, of course. I. . . I'll try to be better."

"I know you will." Elliot said absently as he assembled the desk. "Tell you what, in the meantime, why don't you start cleaning upstairs. Start with the back rooms and leave my bedroom alone for now, I have to move something later and I don't want you cleaning it twice."

"I-. . . Am I allowed to get up?"

"That's what I said, wasn't it?"

"I. . . Thought you wanted to. . ."

"To what, kitten?"

Kim shifted uneasily, glancing away not sure whether she should be ashamed or not. "I thought you wanted to look at me. . ."

He smirked as he grabbed a screw driver. "Let's not worry about that. How about you start lunch in an hour, then we'll see if you've learned your lesson. . ."

Kim stood up shakily. "Y- Yes, master McKenna." She obediently filed out of the room feeling more confused than ever where she stood with the McKennas. Kim did as she was told, though, trotting upstairs and ensuring every thing was cleaned up and the rooms were straightened out meticulously. Surely she was going to earn back some of the good will she'd been building up.

After she finished, Kim headed downstairs and snuck around the railing. She peeked to see if Elliot was paying attention and waited until his back was turned to duck into the painting room- it was stupid, maybe, but she still felt the need to sneak around to 'make up' for her slip.

As it so happened, she'd also managed to get her cleaning done within the hour which gave her time to start lunch; a warm ham sandwich and a glass of iced tea that she finished off with a lemon wedge. It was cheesy, for sure, but it felt right to at least make the attempt. She was supposed to serve, by god she could do it right.

"Lunch, mister McKenna." Kim said as she slithered into the new office, her heels clicking sharply on the floorboards as she made her way to the newly assembled corner desk. Elliot was busy cleaning off a plush executive's chair and seeming so engrossed in it, he barely gave her a moment's glance. After a moment Kim flicked her choker bell to make it jingle.

"Huh? Oh, right. Thanks. . ."

Kim clasped her hands demurely "Would you like anything else?"

"Hm. . ." The large framed man turned the chair around, rolled it forward. "Join me?"

"Ah. . ."

He tapped a clean spot of flooring near his chair, his eyes meeting hers evenly. There was no question where she was going to be sitting. As Kim sank down to her knees, a thrill raced through her; the possibility so close she could smell it.

"So, I've been thinking. . ." Elliot picked up his sandwich and casually spread his legs slightly, enough that Kim's chin was right against his knee. "What ideas did you have?"

"Ideas? Oh, for the uniform?"

"For your uniform." He nodded, taking a bite.

"Well. . ." Kim paused. "I'd been thinking about the uh,"

"Hang on." Elliot set his sandwich on the desk and looked at her. Before she could open her mouth again, he leaned forward. "You have a lovely voice, I want to hear it. . ."

"Oh- uh-"

"Speak up."

Kim cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of the distance between them and the heat of his presence withering her feeble defenses. "M- Ma-" He silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"Speak."

She swallowed. "Master McKenna. If it would please you." She stopped and started breathlessly under his firm gaze. "I'd like to get some contact lenses. . ."

"Go on."

"S- Som-" Again he put his finger to her lips. She whimpered softly and lowered her gaze.

"Stop that, you're a grown woman- you're our maid."

Kim swallowed. "I'm sorry, master. . ."

That earned her a brief smile. "Try again."

A deep breath and Kim looked up at her employer, "I'd like to be everything you both want, master."

"Is that right, kitten?" This time when he reached forward his finger traced her jaw, he delicately cupped her cheek and held her with that firm, unforgiving hand. "How would you like to do that?"

Kim turned her head to nuzzle into the touch while keeping him in her view, murmuring the words softly. "I can get contact lenses, I can find a longer tail. . . I can paint my body for you, master."

Elliot actually seemed to stop breathing for a moment as he cupped her cheek. After a brief flash of amusement, he slid his hand down her neckline. The caress set Kim's body trembling as she looked up at him with a will not entirely her own. "I like you the way you are-"

"Bu-"

"Shh." He gently patted her cheek. "Don't interrupt. Are you saying you want to keep the job then?"

"M-"

"What did I say about this?"

"Mew." Kim looked him in the eye. "Meoowww. . ." With a shaking hand she leaned forward into his space and placed her hand on his chest. He took the hint and leaned back, giving the older maid room to move; she slunk up Elliot's thighs, rubbing her cheek against the material of his jeans while watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. With her position, she also gave him a flawless view of her curvy butt, now almost peeking out from under the frill of her uniform.

As she worked her way up her master's body, spreading her scent across him and drinking in his, her uniform slid up just that little bit more to reveal her thick flanks. Elliot's heart was beating hard, even through his jeans she could feel it pulsing through his legs.

That was before she found a particularly thick, hot part of something hardening under his pants. She was learning it seemed. Kim turned her head up and smiled a soft, proud smile. "If my employers are for want of something, I've not done my job. . ." She dared a glance down to find his belt, then looked up. "If you want a cat girl, master. . ."

Elliot leaned back in the chair a little more, adjusted his weight forward. Practically inviting her. Kim's breath caught and she dampened her lips. Instead of answering the silent question of whether she should continue, he stroked her hair back. Once. Twice. Then he rested his hand on the back of her head. In a husky voice he whispered. "Show me."

"Mmrrrrrrrr. . ." Kim purred, nuzzling against his arm as she reached for his belt. In no time she had his pants undone and open, looking up at him for confirmation- He wasn't about to give it to her, he stroked her hair back and petted her playfully as she sucked in a breath and reached for his cock. "Wow." She breathed when she found it under his boxers. Elliot was casual, cool through the entire affair, but the moment she tried to wrap her hand around his girth he let out a warm sigh.

He was thick- definitely the kind of thick that made it hard to entirely wrap her hand around. While Kim liberated it from his pants, she only had one thought running through her mind- how was she going to take care of him? It had been a year or more!

Focus and breathe. She told herself. By the time she finally managed to get his dick free, she was panting, panting right into the head of a thick, good sized penis that would've been more than enough to satisfy a horse, she was sure. Everything was perspective, but in that moment, Kim blushed at the prospect of it. She looked up at Elliot and mewled. "Master. . ."

"Yes, kitten?"

"Y- Your sandwich is going to get cold."

"So it is," Elliot said absently, reaching for it without letting go of the back of her head. Kim continued to nuzzle him softly, even going as far as to kiss his wrist and purr as best she could. "You're so thoughtful, thank you."

Kim exhaled a long, hot breath. "My pleasure." She purred, leaning forward to press her plush lips against the side of his shaft. It was so warm! The older woman closed her eyes and inhaled the long forgotten scent of a real man, savoring it for a moment. She looked up to see him looking at her with a faint grin.

Never one to start something and leave it unfinished, especially not with a client, Kim laid her hands on Elliot's thighs and kissed his cock. Starting at the base, another a couple of inches up, another near the tip, she looked up at him- at her master- and opened her mouth around the swollen head. A soft moan of satisfaction rippled through her client's body as she turned her head and sucked the air from her mouth, easing herself down on the younger man's cock so his foreskin slid back.

Inch after inch, she teased down and lathered him with her tongue. She had missed this, she had missed that hot, semi-salty taste of a real man. Kim moaned her own little groan and started working herself down as Elliot combed through her hair. "God. . . She never does this. . ."

Kim whimpered, spurred on by the tiniest of encouragements to test her limits. She slid down until the head was filling the back of her mouth- she wanted to gag, to cough- but a good maid could handle all of her employer, couldn't she?

With a held breath, the slightly older woman turned her head down and tried to work herself down even more. Her gag reflex balked at the idea of trying to stuff so much into her throat and almost immediately she sputtered and coughed to the side. Kim tried her best to stifle the reaction, but there was no hiding the mess of spittle she was making.

"Careful . . ." Elliot sighed, stroking her hair back.

Careful indeed. Kim eased up and switched her approach. She stroked his thighs gently with her hands as she started to bob up and down slowly, taking a few inches and letting it go. One stroke after another and she was getting into a familiar rhythm. Years of practice had honed her skills and they were swiftly coming back, reminding Kim what it meant to really take care of someone. The older maid turned her head left and right, working her tongue into the bottom of Elliot's rock hard cock.

Up and down, the maid in the catgirl outfit worked her head with great care to serve her master. Her little bell jingled in time as she worked. Faster and faster. Soon it was jingling non-stop like a Salvation Army bell and Kim had found her rhythm to her master's blissful appreciation. She massaged Elliot's powerful thighs while she worked, loosing herself in the motion.

It went on for several minutes before Elliot let out a low groan and gripped Kim's skull, balling up a hand full of her hair. He pulled her head back mid stroke so she was looking up at him with her lips pouted around his thick cock. They looked at one another. He was breathing hard. Kim whimpered. Had she done something wrong?

"Stop." He commanded.

Kim obediently opened her mouth and pulled back- a string of saliva connected them and they both eyed it- him with appreciation and her with apprehension. "Master?"

Elliot huffed. "Go clean our room."

"B- but-"

"Shh. Just. . . Just go. I need a second-"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. No. . . No." He smirked. "Just go upstairs, I'm not going to finish my lunch like this.

Kim leaned in and nuzzled his neck, murring. "You can finish both, master. . ."

Elliot laid his hand on her shoulder. "Go."

"Mas-" Kim squeaked when Elliot swatted her cheek. It didn't hurt, but it sent a clear message. Obey. She nodded meekly and turned away, cleaning her mouth, unsure if she should be ashamed or not. Her knees trembled as she marched up the steps to the McKennas' bedroom with her cleaning rag in hand and her shoulders slumped.

Maybe she'd overstepped the unspoken boundaries they'd established, maybe she was wrong to want to do so, but after Sylvia. . . How could she not at least try?

Kim muttered to herself as she started by remaking the bed and cleaning off the shelves, the nicknacks and the stupid dresser. God, why was she so dense!? He'd just wanted a damn sandwich- she was supposed to be the quiet, submissive maid, not the-

Kim practically tripped when she rounded the corner of the bed. She flung her hand out to catch herself and practically tore the comforter off on her way to the ground. What a day. "Oh, great." Kim recovered herself, dusted down and started to remake the bed, mumbling obscenities all the while.

"Hey-" Elliot's voice cut off her musings just as she was tucking the corner under the mattress. She looked up at him. He smirked. When she started to dismount the bed he held up a hand. They looked at one another for a moment and he closed the distance between them, cupping her cheek softly. "What's wrong, Kim?"

"I- I. . ." She sighed. "I don't think I can be what you want. I- I'm not good at it, and I'm terrible at figuring out what you want."

"Shh." He slid his finger to her lips and though he was addressing her, she could see his gaze was roaming her figure rather than meeting her eyes. That slow, lascivious prowl over her bare thighs that made her squirm. With an unerring touch he stroked her hair back between her cat ears. Unconsciously she found herself turning into his powerful yet gentle touch. "Tell me again what you want to do withyour uniform. . ."

Kim swallowed, risked a look up at him. He was still eying her body as he stroked her hair. "A— I think feline contacts?"

"Mhm?"

"A longer tail- Sylvia- Mistress likes it. . . Maybe paint? Stockings? Something for my legs. Maybe my back, too?" At those words Elliot's fingers trailed back through her blonde locks across her exposed back. "Mmmrrrm. . . If- If you'd like?"

The younger man gave her a long critical look, perhaps envisioning her changes. Finally, he said: "I think I would." Then and only then did he deem her worthy of a look. "I think spots would suit you, don't you?"

"L- like a leopard?"

That earned her a smile. "Mhm. Fit your nature, don't you think?" Gently, he traced his finger along her jaw to her lips. Kim opened her mouth to take the tip, looking up at him. "Yes, our little leopardess. Would our kitten like anything else?"

Kim lapped at his finger, arching her back to bring her heavy breasts between her forearms and give him a full view of her rather generous cleavage. "Mmmew?"

Elliot smiled knowingly, "You've been such a good girl for us, Kim. . ."

She purred softly.

"I think. . ." He took a long, deep breath. "You may."

"Mew?"

"I think my wife and I have both agreed you're almost exactly what we hoped to find." Elliot withdrew his finger and stroked her hair back a couple of times. "Don't move."

Kim stayed perfectly still on all fours, looking up at him vaguely uncertain of what would be expected of her. Secretly she knew what she wanted him to want, but she didn't dare express it. Not even as he sat down beside her and ran his hand down her spine, following the arch of her back to her flank. His hand splayed out to cup her butt and he gave her a firm squeeze.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" He said softly, leaning towards her. He pointed to the mirror in front of them. Kim gazed at her reflection dubiously. Even as her employer traced her thigh down. Then back up. He pinched her tail and gave a soft tug.

"Ah! M- Master. . ."

"Shh." Elliot let her tail go, his fingertips 'accidentally' crashing into her swollen nether lips. "When I first saw you, I didn't think we were that lucky- surely no one as sultry as you would want the job. Let alone to handle both of us. . ."

"Kitty l- likes to please-"

"I see that." Fingers brushed forward against Kim's nethers, cupping her firmly. Next thing she knew Elliot's thumb was pressing on her tail plug. She arched her back even more deeply with a long purr. "Mmmm. . ."

Kim closed her eyes. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she tried to catch her breath, already knowing there was no point. He owned her. She wanted to be owned. "I'm a good kitty. . ."

"You are." He cooed reassuringly. "I think. . ." He pressed himself against her so his lips were against her ear. "I think I want to put a collar on you. . . Just for today."

"Y-" Kim leaned back into his fingers when he pressed against her. She was soaking her panties by now, no doubt about it. "Please. . ."

"That's a good girl. Say it again."

"Please." Kim looked to him weakly. "Please, master."

A little smile crept across his lips and he rose slowly, deliberately drawing his fingers across her side. To her mouth. She took them to his palm looking up at him with wide, vibrant eyes. "P'ease?" She accented her request by licking the bottom of his fingers.

"Tsk, tsk." Elliot pulled back and playfully dotted the tip of her nose with a finger. "You'll wear it tonight until you leave. If you're good to us next week, you can wear it in the evenings after I come home. . ."

Kim whimpered and nodded meekly.

"If you're an exceptionally good girl, you can wear it during the day. . ." He continued as he dipped into the dresser and pulled out a thick leather collar that read "Kitty" with a leash hook up on the back of it. Then he pulled out the leash and looked at her with a patient little smirk. When he was near the bed again he knelt down and met her gaze evenly. "I put this leash on you," he explained calmly. "You belong to us."

Kim swallowed and nodded.

"I mean belong to us. Kimberly." He raised the collar between them, eying her. "You're not going to be Kim ever again in this. . . Do you understand? As long as you're here, when you have this on. . ."

Kim leaned forward and nuzzled against his cheek. "If it makes you happy, I want to be the maid you want."

"Mmm," Elliot gently undid her choker bell and opened the collar for her. Kim swallowed and placed her neck in it, closing her eyes as he gently affixed it, slid two fingers in to make sure it wasn't too snug and then slowly stood up. "Look at me, Kitten."

Kim-kitty looked up at her master. He put a finger to her lips firmly, ensuring she understood before he stroked her hair back. She purred and nuzzled into him, gaze turned up playfully to meet his eyes. "Mrrr. . ."

He smiled a little, stroked her hair back some. "If you're a good girl, I'll let you wear the leash. . . But you'd started something."

"Mrr?"

"Turn around. . ."

Kim-kitty lowered her gaze and slowly, gracefully prowled around the bed in a full circle. She was careful to accent her stride with a pendulous sway of her generous butt which only added to the fluid movements of her body, even her breasts swayed in the tight uniform as she curled around. When she got closer to Elliot, she rubbed herself along his stomach and arched her back for full effect, earning a few generous strokes along her back in the process. "Mmmrrrrrr." She purred her appreciation.

"My, my, someone's an eager girl, aren't they?"

"Mrrow." After a few seconds she rolled over on her back and tucked into a little bit of a ball, drawing her hands up near her chest and looking up at Elliot with a mischievous expression. "Mew?"

"Messing up the bed you just made, hm?" He tsked. "Bad kitten. . ." A wry smirk crossed his lips. "C'mere."

Kim-kitty rolled over to her master and made a curious mewling sound. Before she was on all fours again, though, the younger man was putting his hand on her collar, tugging softly. She followed his commands unerringly and haunched down where he'd indicated. "Mmmr?"

Elliot ran his hand down her flank, over her tail plug and nether lips, pressing more firmly with every moment. He massaged her clit through her underwear without a moment's hesitation- without question or thought. She was his kitten, he didn't have to ask permission. Kim mewed softly as she arched her back, pressing her chest to the bed and urging him on to further explorations. He worked little circles into her lips as he cooed softly. "I enjoyed what my maid did for me. . ."

"M- ah," Kim sighed deeply, sinking down with her ass up in the air in an imitation of a cat stretch- she arched her back into it even further when Elliot started to move the horizontal striped underwear aside and- for the first time- slicked his fingers with her moisture. "Ahmmm..." God was she really going to let him do this? "Mrrrrowwww. . ."

"So I think. . . I'm going to pass on the favor. Sort of." Elliot paused with his finger touching her opening. His other hand was already working her panties off. "Would you like that?"

"Y-" Kim mewled. "Mrrr!" She sighed and rolled her hips back into his hand. His finger wasn't thick, but she could feel it pressing against her insides; he was almost too big for her.. She sighed deeply, relishing the sensation. "Mmmm.. . ."

"Is that right?" He whispered softly, sliding his finger even deeper. Then he pushed upward towards her lower back, massaging around as if looking for something. Kim was about to say something when she remembered she wasn't allowed to speak. He chuckled to himself and drew his finger out before he leaned forward onto the bed. His hands gripped her ass cheeks, down her flanks. Possessively he clutched her hips. "Mmm. . ."

Kim-kitty whined and rolled back against him while his hands wrapped around her waist firmly. "Mrrrrrroowww..." Master. . . Fuck me. . . "mew. . .?" A hand grabbed her pony tail and Elliot pulled her head back. The other clamped down between her shoulders. He pressed down on her firmly, crawling up behind her.

His thick, hot cock, barely sheathed by his jeans now pressed up against her wet pussy. Obediently, longingly, Kim rolled her hips back into his, slathering her moisture over the rough material of his jeans. He was so warm, so tense. His powerful hand clamped down on the back of Kim's neck, tightened. He was leaning into her, right against her ear. "Are you as soft as your body, little kitten?"

Kim whimpered loudly.

He drank in her scent. "Show me how much of a good girl you are."

Another whimper parted her lips as she reached back awkwardly; he held her firmly in place even as Kim managed to undo the thick clasp. Afterwards she pushed his pants down, freeing his thick meat from its bindings. Absently Kim wondered if Sylvia would have done this for him, too.

The answer was pretty obvious; she was too strong and powerful in her own right to bend. They wanted someone like Kim. They needed Kim-kitty. That thought sent a thrill through her. She mewled it out and rocked back against her master. His cock throbbed against her and he pushed upward to rub against her tail. The plug inside her bobbed, sending a lurid shiver up her spine.

Kim's breath came in shorter and shorter sips while Elliot's cock rubbed against her nether lips. Her timid little whimpers echoed through the room, knees quivering more and more with each passing moment. Elliot, by comparison was calm; powerful in his superiority as he leaned over her, sliding his hands up over hers and sighing right in her ear. "Our little kitten is so beautiful. . ."

The compliment, undeserved and unexpected, made Kim suddenly very self conscious; she could feel the velvety fabric of her maid's uniform slide up her curvy thighs and over her rump while Elliot- her master- slid forward over her.

"So gorgeous in her outfit." He cooed in her ear. "So eager to be our good girl, sovery fulfilling. . ." As if to accent his point, he eased the tip of his cock into her. He barely missed her opening the first time and Kim sighed. She opened her mouth to beg him to stop teasing. But then the tip found her opening.

"H- ho-" Kim stuttered as he parted her flower into full bloom- so thick and warm, Kim's voice died on her lips while he pushed into her, inch after inch split her open, stretching her more than she had been opened up in her entire life. The sensation was incredible, dizzying- "Holyshit," she mewled into the comforter. "Ah!"

"You okay?" Elliot whispered with sudden concern.

"M- mew-" Kim clenched down on the massive invader with a weak smile. "M- Master needs a shoehorn. . ."

He snorted at that and gave her another slow thrust, feeding her more of his meat, leaning his weight into her back more and more as his obedient catgirl maid dug her toes into the comforter. Elliot groaned a deep, contented sigh the further he sunk into her. It never seemed to end and before she knew it, she could feel his cock rubbing against the tip of the plug.

Surely he felt it, too. He leaned down so his meat was aiming towards her spine. With a final, deep thrust, he pumped his entire length into the soft catgirl maid. His power was overwhelming- he drove into her with an incredible thrust that slammed his hips into her meaty ass. They moaned together, his breathing hot in Kim's ear. She panted and whimpered as he thrust again. God, he was so big-

"You're a naughty kitty." Elliot breathed between slow thrusts.

"M- ah- ah- Ma-"

"Shh." Elliot's hands slid up her arms to her shoulders. He clamped down on her with her body arched back for him and him alone. She looked up at her master to find him smiling to himself as he looked her over. Their gazes met. His manner cooled and he smiled a private little grin. "Enticing me? Flaunting this body of yours thinking I'd just give in to you?" He tsked.

Kim opened her mouth, stopped when Elliot slapped her ass hard. "Ah!"

SLAP.

"Ah! G-"

"I didn't say you could talk." Slowly his hand slid over and balled up a fist full of her hair. He backed up and plowed in Kim-kitty's soft ass, shoving her into the mattress. He wrenched her head back so she was looking up at him when he leaned forward. "I'm not sure if I should punish you or reward you." He thrust into her again, spasmed, his face a mix of bliss and lust. "You've been trying so hard. . . But you've been a naughty girl. . ."

Kim-kitty whimpered and arched back obediently, mouth hanging open.

Elliot plowed into her again and again, holding her just like that while he used his mewling kitten. He deserved it, they both did. Kim tightened herself around him, struggling to breathe through the moan. "Ohmygod-"

"I said." He slamed into her hard enough to make her shudder. "No. Talking."

Kim whined into a heap, face down, ass up. Her master deserved it. She held her muscles tight around his thick heat, offering. Begging. When Elliot leaned over her, she buried her face deeper in the comforter. He couldn't hear her begging. "Please fuck me. . ."

"Kimmy. . ." Elliot cooed teasingly. "You're not following directions. . ." He grabbed a hand full of her hair and pulled her head up. They looked at one another. His eyes were firm, tollerent like a father scolding a child. He thrust into her up to the hilt. "Disobey me and this ends."

"N- n-" Kim whimpered pathetically as she tried to roll back against him, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. For every inch she took, she could feel the plug in her ass trying to force itself out to make room for her master. It wouldn't, of course. She clamped down on them both and pushed up on shaky arms no longer able to support her own weight. "Nomaster- M- Mewwww!"

Another powerful thrust and Elliot was pounding into her again- Kim lost herself in his demand for her body- she was beautiful to him and he wasn't ashamed to make it clear to her. His hands traveled her entire form, cupping, squeezing, pulling. Demanding. Kim hadn't felt this wanted in years. . . Did she deserve it? Elliot's quickly increasing tempo told her she might have in his eyes.

So that was exactly what she did; she gave in to him more so- she was theirs to do with as they pleased. Kim trembled as she tried to push herself back, rolling her hips in a tight circle which had the added effect of batting the tail plug with Elliot's cock every time she moved.

Being overstuffed made her dizzy with lust, fearful of what might come- did she dare ask her master to pull out? Did she even want him to? Kim-kitty didn't. Kim-kitty wanted her master to be happy. As she rolled her hips back into Elliot's, she felt him grab a hand full of her hair.

Before she realized what was happening they were tumbling on to their sides. Elliot grabbed her around her waist and slammed his meaty cock into her, mashing the plug right into it. She cried out, throwing her head back as the overwhelming power of his desire and her lust burned through her core. He didn't stop, though. He pounded her again and again, faster and harder, driving his demand home. He grabbed her collar next, panting into her ear, yanking her back.

It was too much. She was a puppet in the hands of a god; bright plumes of pleasure exploded across her vision and he let out a moan that echoed through the empty house. The tingling sensation of her building orgasm came hard, hit fast, broke the thick maid in two. She spasmed and jerked, clawing at the mattress now while Elliot pounded her relentlessly. The quivering catgirl mewled out blindly, trying to beg for a minute. Her master wasn't going to give it to her, though and as she came, she struggled in his arms to get away. She pushed against him. Her entire body tensed and spasmed and she continued silently begging even as she lost all sense of who she was.

There was only Kitty. There had only ever been Kitty. Kitty obeyed.

Her master slammed into her again and again. Panting harsh demands in her ear. Growling. Holding her protectively. He wasn't done. She couldn't respond; couldn't even think.

Finally, when she felt like she was going to black out, Kitty's master stopped his assault on her pussy and graciously allowed her to ride out her orgasm- tears streaked Kitty's cheeks as her body shuddered and convulsed in her master's arms. What felt like an eternity passed before it finally subsided enough that she could breathe. Kitty mewled out between pants of her master's name, whimpering it like a mantra. "Master-" she'd pant. "Mew. . ."

"Shh." Her master said firmly in her ear, stroking back her hair. "Shhh. Don't speak."

They were both slicked with sweat, but it was only Kitty who seemed to feel cold; she shivered against the man and struggled for his warmth. That earned her a thrust- a deep, powerful one that rubbed both of her openings and made her whimper all the more.

"I've decided you're going to get a reward for all you've done for us. . . Would you like that?"

"M- mew. . ."

"That right?" Fingers laced into her collar and pulled her back. Another thrust. A soft moan. Something throbbing inside her. Master panted softly. "Say it. . ."

Kitty swallowed, arching back against his chest. In a barely audible mewl, she whispered: "Cum in me, master. . ."

"You deserve it."

"I deserve it. . . G- Good kitty." She had been a good kitty. She'd been a good maid, too. She was so wanted and desired- she was going to please her masters whatever it took to stay a good girl. "Cum in me, master."

Elliot growled softly in her ear, his hand prowled down to her hip. Gripped her. He owned her. She wanted him to own her. She wanted to feel needed- this was her right, this was right. "What if I decide you haven't earned it?"

Kim whined. "Please."

"Please what?" He pulled on her collar lightly.

"Please cum in your kitten!"

Something inside her tensed; Elliot's cock throbbed and seemed to get harder. She tightened her entire body, ready to accept her reward. She tightened so much, her master groaned in her ear. "Make me." He demanded.

Kim started to roll her body but Elliot stopped her and tightened his grip on her collar. Picking up his subtle hint, she tightened her muscles and pushed off with her ass cheeks only to be slammed back against her master's powerful thighs. She repeated this several times, a servant even in bed- as she knew they both wanted. Kim cried out and pounded back against him. Again and again. Faster. Harder.

Every movement sent his breath coming in sharper and harder. He groaned into her ear. Abruptly he pulled on her hip, burying his massive dick up to the hilt. When she tried to go forward again he held her there. A demanding thrust and his hard muscles tightened. Sprung. He shoved into her even harder and yanked back on the collar. "AGH- AGGGRRHHHH." Elliot snarled in her ear.

Heat. Throbbing, Powerful heat swelled in Kim's pussy. Elliot thrust into her again and jerked forward. A thick wave of cum erupted deep inside the curvy maid. One after another, Elliot pumped powerful blasts of spunk into his willing kitten, thrusting every time even as his cum splashed into her. She didn't even have time to breathe as he used her.

All she could do was feel her master's satisfaction while another wave of his spunk was pumped into her. It was so much! No one had ever done that before- even if she'd let them cum in her, which she never did. Kim panted her weak approval as Elliot pumped into her again, emptying every last drop into her. When he finally stopped, she clamped down against him and rolled her body a little to tease out anything he'd missed. Even then, she'd never felt so full as when she had him in her and when he emptied into her, she almost felt too full. It was blinding and incredible. How could she have gone so long without this?

For his part in it, the younger man held her firmly, never one letting up control. Elliot's position was unquestionable even in the throes of a powerful orgasm. When he finally subsided, he leaned against her and growled in her ear. "I'm going to do this to you every. Single. Time."

Kim's heart punched into her throat. "Y- Yes master McKenna. . ."

"Goooood girl. . ." He slapped her ass. He was still panting when he wrapped his arm around her tummy and thrust for good measure. "Good god, where did you learn how to do that?"

"Practice?" It felt absurd to take a casual tone covered and filled with so many fluids, but Kim still managed to keep straight as she continued. "A maid should know how to please her employers, shouldn't she?"

"I suppose so. . ."

Kim dared a glance back. "Every time?"

"Every. Time."

She bushed deeply. Elliot slowly withdrew leaving her empty and hollow, cum dribbling down the side of her ass cheek. He exhaled against her ear. "Every time. . ."

It wasn't right to feel this aroused. She should have been deeply ashamed. She wasn't supposed to have done this. She really wasn't supposed to let him do that. Yet. . . God, it felt so right. How could she have denied him if she wanted to?

"Get some dinner for us, would you?" His calm tone snapped her back to reality.

"H- huh? Oh. . . Y- Yes, of course. J- just let me get cleaned up."

Elliot was already off the bed and recovering his jeans. "Panties stay off."

Kim blinked at that and, dumbfounded, whispered her acknowledgment.

Kim wobbled on shaky knees as she traversed the kitchen in the course of making dinner. Images of what they'd just done swirled around her mind like snapshots of someone else's life. Kim wasn't the one who did things like that, surely it couldn't have been her who'd done those things. . .

She had the soreness to remind her of her master's demands, though. She had the massive load she was still having to clean off her inner thigh occasionally. She had broken into entirely new territory and she loved it.

Was she really that simple? Of course not. She was human. . .

A shiver ran up her spine while she finished up making dinner and laid the plates out. Elliot was down a few minutes later, all showered and wearing new clothes which struck Kim as horribly unfair, considering she still smelled of sex and him.

Maybe it wasn't all bad.

Without a word, he strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine and a pair of glasses, setting them up with the dishes. Trepidation grew in Kim as she finished the meal and laid it out. With every movement she could feel his eyes on her, but he was stoic throughout the entire thing.

Kim ventured a quiet murmur. "Will Mistress McKenna be joining us?"

"Not to my knowledge. . . Why don't you have a seat."

"Uh- sure. If I can even sit."

He smirked at that. "You'll get used to it."

Kim swallowed, bushing as she eased into the chair. Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs together as if trying to force herself back together. She was still riding the buzz of post-orgasm bliss, but couldn't help but eye Elliot. He'd opened her up and now without him between her thighs, she felt weak and empty.

"So," he said casually. "Tell me about these changes you want to make. . . To your uniform."

"Oh- uh. . . I'd been thinking about body paint. Or temporary tattoos. . . Like I mentioned. Maybe contact lenses?"

"Mmhm?"

"Stockings, maybe. Sheer black ones." Kim added uneasily, "W- whatever else you'd like, too?"

The younger man looked her over with a thoughtful smirk. "I guess we could let you do that. I suspect you'll want us to pay for it. . ." He poked the air with a fork. "Right?"

"Um. . ."

"Speak up."

"I- If you would?"

Elliot took a big bite and leaned back, chewing on it as he watched her. "Do you think you're worth it?"

"Uh- d- do you?"

"I asked you first."

She swallowed. "I do. . ."

"Why?"

"B-" Kim fidgeted.

"This is negotiation, Kim. Try to keep your cards close to your chest." He gave her a wry smile. "Why're you worth it?"

In spite of everything, that threw her for a loop. Kim stared at the space between them for a moment. Was there a right answer? Was there even a good answer? What could she give them that no one else could- or would?

She was about to say something when she felt her leather collar rub against the raw spot it'd left on her skin. That was it; the simplest answer was usually the right one. Slowly, carefully, she eased down on her hands and knees and crawled over to Elliot's feet. She squatted down in front of him, looking up. "Meow."

When that didn't move him, she braced her hands on his thighs and, putting plenty of cleavage on display, she looked up at him with her best innocent expression and arched her back to emphasize her curves. "If I was able to, I'd be more the catgirl you want so badly. . ."

Elliot looked down at her, stroked her hair back and smiled. "We tend to get what we want. . ." He leaned back in the chair and spread his legs. "Do you?"

"Only when my master is happy. . ." She nuzzled against his inner thigh.

"Mmm. . . That right? So tell me, how much do you expect to make this week?"

Kim started to back up but Elliot held her there. "Whatever you decide to pay me. . ."

"What if I didn't want to? What then, hm? Give me an answer, Kim."

"Ah. . . Tw- Twelve hundred?"

Elliot scoffed.

"Too much?"

"Let me tell you something, Kimberly. . ." He said firmly. "Value is in the hands of those receiving services. Do you understand?"

"I do, yeah. . ."

He swatted her softly. "You do, yes."

"I do, master."

"Good." Elliot stood up slowly and withdrew an envelope from his back pocket. "I expect to see you Tuesday, kitten. . . Don't disappoint me."

Kimberly reached for the envelope- it was as thick and heavy as his dick had seemed. She blinked, looking at him with uncertain eyes. "A- are you sure? This feels like a lot. . ."

"Positive. . . Get those things you want and give me the receipts. We'll approve or disapprove of it next week, okay?"

"Y- Yes! Uh- T- Thank you, Master McKenna."

He smiled at that and gently ran his hand through her hair. "Kim. . ."

"Hmm?"

"I'm glad I was right about you. . ."

She never would admit it, but secretly, she was too. She smiled up at her master and nuzzled his inner thigh, comfortable in the thought of his strength and warmth. This was the job she'd been born for. These were the people she was going to serve.

This was Kimberly William's new life; that of a fetish maid.

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