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Pussy Cat

*ATTENTION: This story is copyright cat_slave 2001. Any of my stories may

be downloaded for personal & private use at home --

-- *BUT* --

Reposting without express permission of the copyright owner (namely,

*me*) is illegal and could, therefore, result in legal action. My stories
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- cat_slave



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pussy cat
The note on the door was in Jennifer's elegant handwriting.

*"Be a dear, and clean up my room for me today, please?

Thanks, xoxoxo Jen"*

I was just *seething*. I had certainly put up with my fair share of her

shit.

First, I'd been cajoled into taking the smaller bedroom right from the

start. I didn't necessarily mind it, at the time. I mean, she *did* have

more stuff than I did, so it was only fair, right?.

Then, I'd been tricked into staying at the apartment when I'd already

had a date, so that Jennifer could go out on hers. Someone had to be here

when the cable tech arrived, and it had be unscrupulously dumped on me.

I was the only one who ever cleaned around the place. Heaven forbid she

ever vacuum, or even clean up the strewn-about-Sunday-paper after she was

done reading it. If I didn't do the dishes in an effort to try to get her

to do them, *I'd* end up being the one who'd find no clean dishes to use at

my next meal.

When I was doing laundry, Jennifer's clothes would 'accidentally' find

themselves mixed in with mine. And now, Jennifer had the leave me a note,

telling me that it was okay to go ahead and clean her goddamn room?

I'd absolutely had it. I could feel the heat in my face against the

blood that was frothing in my brain.

Storming into the kitchen, I spotted her. Right in her line of sight, I

crumpled up the note and threw it with all my might at my roommate. After

it bounced off the counter behind her, I found myself wishing I had better

aim.

She was sitting smugly in her silk kimono robe, finishing off a glass of

orange juice. She looked up, her half-wet tresses of light brown hair

brushing across her shoulders. Light blue eyes seemed to twinkle with

amusement at me, noting my own bathed in fury. That *look* only succeeded

in making me even more pissed off at her.

She watched me thoughtfully as my pale complexion continued to darken

with the bright redness of anger. It caused her to smile a bit more.

Jennifer had to know that one day she was going to really blow it and

push me over the edge. By the look on her face she didn't seem to realize

that now was that time.

"Yes?" She asked, calmly, leaning back in her chair. I noticed her

smoothly shaven pale legs cross. As a result, the hem of her robe fell

down revealing perfect, athletic thighs. I blinked, and almost seemed to

forget why I was even here. My rage reminded me, quickly enough.

"I've had enough of this shit, Jenny," I spat. I thrust my finger in

the bitch's face to accentuate my point. "I pay the same amount of rent

that you do, but you don't do any of the work!"

Months, and months of being dumped on had finally caused my

volcano-meter to hit over the top. "Either you're going to start paying

more, or you're going to put in your goddamn share of the work around here.

And you can shove your goddamn room up that tight-ass of yours." There.

I'd said it. A weight lifted off me. I felt *good*.

*I* felt smug, now. I felt strong in the potency of my words. My coal

eyes looked back, as if daring Jennifer to not agree with me. I felt my

chest heave. I grinned, as I rememberd the nightshirt I'd just recently

tossed on, pink and emblazened with the words 'Girl Power' in purple sparle

lettering. girl Power, indeed. I stood my ground, reveling in my

justification, and my anger.

Calmly, Jennifer shifted her legs. She crossed them oppositely, again

showing off her attractive thighs. Her own blue eyes watched my own with

an almost distracted disinterest. "Of course, Allicia." Her voice was

oddly soothing, gentle, and she leaned forwards to pat my hand.

I could only blink at Jennifer's agreement. It certainly was *not* what

I expected out of her, and it threw me completely off course.

A small smile, one of sincerity creased over Jennifer's mouth. Her

voice remained gently quiet, "Your time is valuable, isn't it? You should

be compensated for it." She tilted her head, and considered me as if I

suddenly mattered to her. "I thought you liked doing chores, Allicia. I

mean, you never said no when I asked you to do things for me and you've

never asked me to pitch in." She sighed, almost disturbed. "I wish you'd

told me this earlier. I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship over

something this trivial."

Suddenly, I found myself fidgeting. My hands grabbed the sides of my

shirt uncomfortably, clenching the loose fabric in my palms. The anger I'd

summoned forth was suddenly gone, and without it as a fuel, I was pretty

much at a loss for words. My mouth opened, but I had nothing to retort to.

She was right! I *hadn't* ever said anything about it. Ever.

Still smiling, Jennifer enfolded her hand around mine, firmly. Her

hands were soft, warm, and surprisingly, comforting. It seemed *right*.

"And I couldn't very well know you were angry, or that you wanted me to

pitch in with the work if you never told me. Right?" She asked. Deep,

beautiful blue eyes stared back into mine.

I floundered for something to stand on, to regroup, and get a hold of

myself. I was supposed to be angry, after all! But I only found myself

stuttering. "N-no...?"

Heat washed over my face, a light pink blush I was sure. My hand was

squeezed, reassuringly again. Suddenly, for no reason at all, I was aware

of my taut nipples, poking through the thin cotton fabric of my favorite

nightshirt. It was a good thing Jennifer didn't notice, or else I probably

*would* have died from embarassment.

"I'll tell you what," she smiled, in that soothing way of hers. "If you

clean my room this time, next time I'll clean yours. But only if you want.

Alright?" She brought my trembling hand close to her lips, and caressed it

with them, almost sensually. I was frozen. I couldn't move.

I still wasn't sure what to make of all of this. I'd come prepared for

a face-off, and instead her personality changed. I was still in

shell-shock. I could only mutely nod and answer, "A-alright, ..."

After all, I *had* gotten Jennifer to commit to begin cleaning up. Had

I won? Apparently. Again, I flushed, my thoughts going back to my

hardened nipples, and I quickly turned from Jennifer. I didn't need her

teasing me about *that*, too.

Still dumbfounded, I headed back down the hall rather like a confused

cat, my roommate calling after me, "Allicia, hon? If you could have it

cleaned up by this afternoon, I'd be ever so grateful."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

As I picked the dirty clothes off the floor, I started to scold myself.

*You stupid bitch. You were mad because you didn't want to do this.

That's why you were yelling at her in the first place. Now you're down on

your hands and knees like some fucking maid, doing her work for her. This

is why you don't have a boyfriend. They all shit on you, because you don't

have any backbone, Allicia. She'll probably never clean your room. She'll

probably get you to beg her to keep on cleaning her room.* I inhaled

sharply, then twisted my lips in disgust of myself and my actions as I

began to sort her laundry into their respective baskets. I couldn't

believe I was doing this. Again.

I kept mentally kicking myself, lifting a few bras off the floor here,

and a couple pairs of panties there, dumping them into one of the baskets.

Suddenly, as I picked up a soft silken pair of her intimates, I revealed

a small food dish that'd been covered up by them. I blinked at it, very

perplexed. It certainly wasn't something I'd expected to find, seeing as

neither of us had a pet.

Bright pink, it had the most beautiful calligraphy scripted into the

side facing me. For some reason I couldn't quite make out what the writing

said. Everytime I tried, it seemed my mind foggy. Dizzy.

I blinked the water from my eyes and wiped them against the silken

panties I still realized I had in my hand. I was about to pick it up when

suddenly I saw something in the dish.

Fresh fudge.

My absolute favorite.

I'd seen Jennifer bring it in after a trip to her parent's. The greedy

slut hadn't even offered to share it with me, and I hadn't had it in so

long. It was Jennifer's favorite too. That's probably why it was in here,

I imagined. Jennifer didn't want me to know she had a stash of it.

I felt suddenly like a naughty little girl, about to reach her hand in

the cookie jar. Defy her parents, and get her just desserts. Literally.

It'd be so much fun. And it'd serve her right for tricking me again.

My hand trembled, as it crept forward. I glanced at the door quickly,

my hand half-open, half-closed like a paw. I half expected Jennifer to

burst in and catch me in the act. I flushed, with heat. My thighs

squeezed together. It felt so wonderfully wrong. My hands closed around

the sweet chocolate within the dish, but I couldn't seem to touch it. It

was slippery, and my fingers couldn't grip it.

My thoughts started to jump around in my head. It was *so* foggy.

Sighing in defeat, I decided to leave it be. Jennifer probably had done

it as a trick anyways ... stuck it there with glue, or something just to

annoy me. The floor was clear of clothes, now, and I began to make the

bed.

As I pulled off the sheets, my eye caught the bowl again. The bright

colorful pink against the simple cream-colored carpet stood out like a sore

thumb. It was the only thing left there, left untouched. Every time I

folded and tucked the color of pink burned in my eyes, nagging me.

Laughing at me.

I felt a small gurgle in my stomach, and realized I hadn't eaten

breakfast. I'd been too ticked off at Jennifer to even grab a quick snack.

I frowned, and narrowed my eyes in irritation at Jennifer's cruelty.

Trying to keep the annoyance off my mind, I started dusting the shelves

with sharp, quick thrusts. My stomach gurgled again. I eyed the pink

bowl.

*It'd serve her right, for her to find all of it gone. Her plan

backfired.*

Suddenly, I felt so pure. So right, in my vindication of Jennifer's

bitchiness. I dropped down on the carpet. Maybe I couldn't pull it out,

but I certainly could still eat it. On all fours, I leaned over the bowl,

and began to nibble lightly at the sweet, delicious fudge. Each bite was

sweeter, and better than the last, and I had to consume more. It was

deliciously addictive.

My reverie was disrupted by a swat to my ass. I looked up suddenly, my

eyes watery. It was so foggy. My vision was blurred. I couldn't

concentrate on a single thought. I felt the fudge drip from my lips, but I

needed more. It was all gone.

She said something. I could see her lips moving, and hear the echoing

in my ears of distant sounds, but I couldn't understand it. She smiled,

and guided my blurry head closer to her.

I just smelt it; and knew it was for me. I delved between her ivory

thighs, and licked greedily at the chocolate she'd stained there until I

found something sweeter. While she stroked my hair and cooed at me through

the wonderful haze of the fog, I suckled, and licked, unable to ever get

enough. Words buzzed in my head I couldn't understand. Hazy scripts

danced in my eyes, but it didn't matter, as long as that sweet nectar was

between my lips.

I woke up, curled up next to her. My tongue went to her breast to lick

the warm softness and my bare leg shifted, rubbing fondly against hers. I

savored the softness of her skin against my own. The fog was cleared, and

so was my mind. I purred at my Mistress, and rubbed my head against her

shoulder. I squirmed, with sudden burning heat in my loins, and begin to

slowly writhe against her hip.

Sleepily, she smiled at me and stroked my back with slow, affectionate

petting. My heart surged with warmth and I felt my breasts tingle with

excitement at the smile. Everything was so perfect. Jennifer had always

been in control. Now I wasn't fighting it anymore. And it was so pure.

She had cleared my head of all its confusion, all it's clutter. I knew

my place now. I was *hers*. Her perfect little sex kitten. Her *Ally

Cat*.

I purred in warmth, meowing softly. A warm, pleasurable tingle stirred

my loins as she said something to me, something I couldn't quite hear

again. And I found myself moving down to *my* food dish. Next to *my*

collar, and *my* litter box.

My heat creamed, trickled, as I heard the whine of Mistress opening a

can of fresh meat, and dumping it into my dish.

I licked it clean. Just like I'd clean everything. Cat's had to keep

things clean, afterall.

But right now, with my belly full, there was only one thing that needed

the attention of a cat's tongue.

My Mistress.



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*Yes, for those of you who think or know this story sounds/is famliar, it

is. I went back, and edited it, made some minor changes and fixed some

horribly-gone-wrong pronoun errors. I can't believe I let this thing get

posted the way it was. ;) Anyways, hope you enjoyed it again ... or for

the first time.

Please send all praise/bashings/comments to: cat_slave@hotmail.com.

Thanks!*