Tales of the Quiet Kitty 1: Under the Cat’s Paw

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Tales of the Quiet Kitty 1: Under the Cat’s Paw Page 2

by Camille Anthony


  By Sparkle, if I orgasm under the administration of this luscious pain, my master will make my last punishment at his hands look like child’s play, but the pain feels so good, I don’t know how long I can hold out.

  Moaning, she raised eyes filled with a frantic question, silently asking his intent. His cock continued to dance out of reach, taunting and teasing her, denying her the chance to end this torment.

  The Jenari’s tongue protruded, scanning her, gauging the level of her pain, judging the length she could endure. “Sspeak.”

  “How can I take you in my mouth when you constantly elude me? If you would free my hands…”

  “I will not free you.” The alien’s sharp words caused her shoulders to slump. They jerked back, tension pulling them toward the center of her back at the impact of the next strike, this one so painfully pleasurable, she cried out, arching.

  “leveB iss angry,” the Jenari said, validating her musing of whether the cock held sentience, “and you must appeasse him, lure him to you…”

  “Tell me how,” she croaked, her throat constricted with fear…she could not fail, not now, not this close to achieving her goal.

  “The ssame way females lure all cockss…with promissess of pleassure.”

  Willa shook her head, fighting to clear her lust-muddled thoughts. The un-metered cadence of his blows gave her no warning, no chance to judge when next the lightning would strike. Her mound throbbed, swollen and red from the repeated punishment. Her entire sex, from clit to ass, burned under the lashing of his hands, the illicit forays of his fingers. Those limber fingers delved and dug, probed and prodded, kept her nerves jumping, her pussy slick with the exotic essence of her pre-come. The sticky liquid worked against her, making the sharp slaps sting as his palm and fingers tackily adhered to her flesh.

  What does he want? How can I lure him?

  Rolling her eyes up to gaze at the stubborn cock, she saw the tip had unfurled, the decobra-like expanded hood flaring silvery grey about the brooding head. Cilia undulating in the wash of an invisible wind, it coiled ready to strike, tucked tight against the alien’s belly.

  Promises of pleasure, huh…? Let’s see how the cock likes this…

  “leveB, please…I want to give you pleasure. Come, slide into my mouth, let me caress your fingers, tongue your little snakes into ecstasy…”

  Opening her mouth, Willa slid her tongue out, wiggling it in wet invitation. Pursing her lips, she made sucking sounds before rimming her lips until they gleamed wetly, making licking motions with her tongue. Above her, the cock paused, seemed to watch as her body rocked helplessly under the two quick, hard cracks of the Jenari’s hand.

  Her cunt could not take much more before exploding. Desperate, she redoubled her efforts. “Come to me, leveB. Let me fuck you with my mouth. I will take you down my throat, swallow your long, writhing length until you explode and flood me with your come. I will squeeze you so tightly, you will…ahhhhh!”

  That last swat hurt like hell. Her pussy on fire, her clit throbbing madly, swollen and hot, sensitized by the stinging stimulation laid down by the alien male’s punishing hand, she twisted in her restraints. Mindlessly tugging at the soft, pliable leather, choking on the tears of ecstasy she could no longer hold back, she strained upward, mouth wide in a soundless cry, dying for another feel of the luscious pain.

  With no warning, the alien’s cock chose that time to strike. The thick smooth head speared into her mouth, the writhing shaft pushing its way past her open lips.

  The feeling overwhelmed her.

  Each separate strand of cilia waved turbulently, brushing against her teeth, her gums, and the roof of her mouth. Ruthlessly, the cock acquainted itself with her textures, her taste and her heat. The bulbous head nudged her tonsils, sending jolts of electrical sparks along her moist tissue. Lightning arced within, flashing from point to point, the riveting charges striking sparks along her nerve endings, stiffening her nipples and zinging along her veins to tingle electrically in her clit. Her vagina clenched, suddenly awash in fluid as her lips closed tightly about the wriggling, bucking cock.

  She had never felt anything like the sheer arousal pouring through her, lighting up every fiber of her being, making her nerve endings sing with erotic joy. Cunt juices spilling from her fiery core, she lifted into the Jenari’s harsh slaps, heart thundering as she wordlessly begged for more…and more.

  Mouth filled with his unique sex, she tongued him vigorously, scraping her teeth back and forth over the waving cilia, lightly abrading them, calling forth more of the zinging, nipple-tightening bolts of energy. The shaft worked its way down her throat, brushing and pushing against the sultry hot interior of her mouth. She loosened her jaw and swallowed, taking the long member down and down, her throat tickled and soothed by the smooth tiny tentacles. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked on the shaft and head, wishing she could reach his balls. Concentrating on the task before her, she drew strongly and worked her throat muscles, determined to bring him to completion.

  The feeling of hands parting her, of chilled, recycled air washing over her exposed cunt, drew her attention to her aching nether regions. She felt her labia drawn back, felt the cold swirling about her hot clitoris seconds before a sudden flurry of hard, furious blows landed directly on the small bundle of nerves.

  A holocaust of lust ignited within her cleft. Hips pumping madly, she clamped down on the writhing shaft crawling in and out of her throat, her cries vibrating around the bulky invader.

  A shudder raced through the Jenari and Willa felt his legs tremble as he rested his deceptively long, whipcord body against her thighs. With a shattered cry, the male slammed his hips against her mouth as his…brother…spewed a fiery stream of semen down her throat. Whipping his hips forward three more times, he pumped hard as a second load of come gushed into her working mouth, his cock lodged so deep, she had no choice but to swallow and swallow again.

  His long prehensile fingers convulsed in her streaming cunt, gripping her plump labia and pulling them apart, revealing the deep fuchsia blush of her soaked pussy. With a harsh groan, he bent down to her, sending his unfurling tongue deep into her spasming channel.

  Willa screamed as the Jenari’s tongue sank into her, writhing as a hundred fingers of fire stroked inside her, touching and fluttering like moths’ wings against her sensitized flesh. She screamed again, begging for release, the sensations too much, too overwhelming to bear and remain silent.

  Just before she could climax, as she shuddered and shook from the incredible lashing of his many-tentacled tongue, he withdrew, leaving her mewling and panting in distress. If she had dared, she would have cursed him for his cruelty, for leaving her wracked with the pain of an interrupted orgasm.

  While his face hovered above hers, the Jenari whispered a furtive, sibilant command. Then, unerringly directing his face toward the camera pick-up, Bevel grinned. “A ssuperior sspecimen, Lord Avron. I sshall take her at our agreed upon ssum.”

  Chapter Three

  What’s wrong with Bevel?

  Willa’s fingers flew across the system board, automatically reading the power fluctuations and adjusting the different nutrient flows as needed, her hands attending to her duties while puzzling over the pilot’s uncharacteristic solemn mien.

  She might have known him only a few days, but it didn’t take much to see something serious occupied the usually jovial Jenari’s mind. He hadn’t even been this quietly subdued when the two of them had dug out the locater implant buried beneath the skin of her back, just below her left shoulder blade.

  Removing it herself, secretly, had proven impossible. Every time she attempted it, the instruments in sickbay shut down at her orders, refusing to tamper with an official government device. Remembering how scared she’d been to approach the pilot caused her to rub her belly, soothing the ghostly echo of nerves. Sick to her stomach, she had begged Bevel to help her, telling him only that her master wished her to spy on the ship, but that she would rather serve her
new masters faithfully.

  Without comment, Bevel had wielded the sharpened spike of baridiium, slicing open her skin and removing the bloody bio-tag. She’d placed it in a sealed and shielded bio-container and stashed it in hiding until they could space it once the ship translated into Wave-space, where it would be impossible to retrieve. If their luck held, Lord Avron might believe the ship had encountered one of the many hazardous space anomalies that littered the dangerous route and perished. Not that he would stop searching for them, but it might buy them some time while he waited for evidence to the contrary to surface.

  With a sigh, Willa’s mind cycled back to her earlier thoughts. What is eating Bevel? Could it have something to do with why he had refused to leave before today?

  She cringed, reminding herself for the hundredth time about the necessity of controlling her temper. She had lost it, railing and ranting at Bevel two ship nights before, demanding they leave immediately. The fear that her master could change his mind and snatch her away before the small ship had cleared the space-dock never left her for long.

  The Jenari had adamantly refused to leave until -- as he said -- “the last possible time increment.” Unable to change his mind, she had slunk to her bunk and chewed her iridescent nails to the quick, skittish and too nerve-wracked to sleep. The next day had been more of the same -- arguments and sullen looks between them, anger seething in the air. This morning, Bevel had awakened her with a contrite tongue-lashing, driving her to a glittering peak before leveB had plumbed the depths of her throat, leaving a warm, thick puddle of his copious satisfaction in her belly. In a quiet, morose voice, he’d told her to report to the bridge at Ship Middens, when they would break dock and head out to their translation point.

  She had been so happy to comply she had failed to notice his lowered spirits. She couldn’t miss them now, but as long as he maintained his stolid silence, she didn’t know what she could do to help lighten his spirits. She would think of something, though. Seeing the Jenari sad and depressed weighed on her own giddy happiness. She wanted him to be as happy as she felt.

  Once they translated into Wave-space, she would leave Lord Avron far behind her, his influence lessening with every parsec of space she put between them. At last, she had started upon the path to find her lost sisters and her injured planet. Thank Sparkle Bevel had proved to be a Being who secretly deplored slavery. She cherished his promise of freedom once she worked off the price of her hire. She would gladly serve the crew’s sexual needs while maintaining the engines and machinery in tip-top condition, for every quadrant they entered would be another opportunity to locate and rescue her fellow Sprites.

  Five minutes before take-off, the floor planks of the Quiet Kitty bridge command center suddenly began vibrating to a low, broken, off-key hum.

  Willa swung around, head tilted, daintily pointed ears perked forward as she tried to identify the origin of the strange sound. It didn’t quite sound like engine trouble, but she’d better make sure…

  “Engine check, Bevel! Belay departure proceedings,” she called out, letting the genetically blind Jenari pilot know she was leaving her position to perform a system diagnostic.

  Releasing her seat’s locking straps, she floated out of her command chair and over to her magnetic boots. She eased her feet into the bulky footwear, thankful they anchored her feet on the floor. As her heels touched down, something huge and furry brushed against the left side of her body, something warm, heavy, and invisible.

  “Holy Sparkle!”

  She jumped about a foot in the air, magnetic boots no hindrance to height with fear lending power to her jumps. “What the hell was that?”

  Her heart pounded crazily, bounced around in her stomach, bumping into her trembling guts. As she glanced around frantically, the variegated pupils of her eyes widened and swirled with confused panic.

  “Bevel, don’t just sit there, man!” she hissed. “Guard yourself! There’s something in here with us. It just brushed against my legs!”

  Bevel swiveled his command chair around with a deft push of his foot against the tread-scored floor, face lighting up in a gamin smile. “Oh, that’ss jusst our lasst arriving crewmember. Actually, he iss the true captain of the sship and the crewmember I really hired you to care for.” The Jenari gave a jaunty wave of his hand, addressing the thin air. “Glad to ssee you made it, Ssir. I didn’t think you’d have enough time to take care of that lasst assignment and rendezvous before take-off, but I’m not ssorry you proved me wrong. Leaving you behind did not ssit well with me.”

  Swinging her head back and forth, she tried to locate to whom or what her crewmate spoke. By Sparkle, she’d signed on to service a ship with an insane crewmember. “Bevel!” she screeched, her usual dulcet tones lost in her rising fear. “If you are truly speaking to a Being present on this bridge, why can’t I see it?”

  He twisted further about, cocking his sightless gaze in her direction. “You’re not sscared are you, Willa? Why, our Captain iss ass tame as a Terran kitty cat! Jusst call him!”

  Making sucking noises interspersed with soft pleading, his hand held low, long fingers waving, the blind first mate crooned, “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…here, kitty, kitty!”

  Whatever it was, the entity did not seem to find the Jenari amusing. A ground-shaking roar blasted the silence, and the pilot almost fell out of his chair laughing.

  The roar faded away, leaving the Jenari’s demented cackling scraping against her raw nerves.

  She again caught that low-pitched, ground-shaking thrum…and realized the thing was closer…stalking her. She began backing slowly away, straining her perfectly sighted eyes, anxious to see what she could so easily hear.

  She sucked in a deep breath and inhaled the exhaled breath of the invisible…thing.

  “Oh…my…good…Sparkle!”

  Male. Primal. Wild. Whatever species the Being was, Willa knew it to be masculine. Its wild, musky smell inundated her senses, triggering her arousal as thoroughly as if the creature had hooked a claw in her gut, tugging on the string of nerves connected directly to nipples and cunt.

  Her stomach roiled, heart pounding as she frantically backpedaled from the repeated gusts of sultry air.

  “That’s no kitty, Bevel. It’s a damned Tygyr or something!”

  His rich chuckle filled the small space. “Oh, good graciouss, Willa, a Tygyr? How do you like that, quiet kitty? What a sstep down for you, eh…?”

  The pilot turned back to his astrogation panel, laughing his fool head off.

  She frowned at him. She didn’t find the situation at all amusing.

  The invisible Being had backed her to the bulkhead, trapping her. With no place else to retreat to, she hugged the steel wall, edging along the curving surface. A Sprite from the planet Sparkle -- labeled Erewhon-3 by the Corporation -- she stood tall for one of her species, proud of her four feet, nine inches height. She had never wished to be taller…until now.

  Now, she apparently stood mouth…fangs…high to the creature facing her, its hot breath blasting the light, fluffy fronds of her lavender-pink plumage away from her quivering cheeks. The thing standing close enough to scorch her with its breath remained undetectable to her perfect sight.

  Frozen with fear, mouth barely moving, she whispered, “Bevel…what the hell is it?”

  “Hmmm…I don’t rightly know how to explain our Captain,” he replied, turning his sightless eyes back to his specially made console. “Not to worry, though, SSexengineer. My guess iss…you’ll be finding out ssoon enough. Then you’ll ssee the Captain can be…whatever you need him to be.”

  Her head turned sharply at his comment, her eyes grown hard as she searched his alien-featured face for clues.

  She had found reading him difficult. Never having encountered a Jenari before, she had no reference with which to compare his facial expressions or muscular reactions.

  Did a smile mean the same thing to a Jenari as it did to a Sprite? How could she know when some expressions, eve
n among same species, represented something totally different?

  Clenched fists on a Terran signaled anger or tension, yet the same gesture by a Declation denoted amusement. By what criteria should she judge the Jenari’s motives toward her?

  Did he know of her special needs? If he did, how had he gained his information? What should she do…what could she do if her identity and safety was compromised? Had she made a monumental mistake accepting his offer of freedom and gainful employment and signing up as the Sexengineer for the Quiet Kitty Waveship and crew?

  A wet, rough tongue swiped across the skin between her frond-covered breasts, jerking her attention from the Jenari pilot.

  She jumped.

  The invisible tongue repeated its ministrations.

  “It’s…he’s…licking me!” she hissed in a shaken stage whisper, vestigial wings fluttering madly. Her heart pounded in fright. She lurched back, threw her hands up, shielding her flesh from the tongue’s sandpapery ministrations. That hot, wet appendage had felt as wide as a Winking walkway.

  “Is it hungry?” she asked fearfully. “You know how I love being eaten, Bevel, but I don’t want to be -- eaten! Help me! Damn your laughing hide, what should I do?”

  After he straightened up from his belly curling laugh, his sightless eyes met hers, glinting with warning. “You’d better sstop calling the Captain it.”

  “Have you fed him lately?” She was more concerned about that tongue swipe than about correct pronoun usage. “Is it trying to taste me…?”

  “No, he hass not been fed, lately, but he iss not hard to pleasse, appetite wisse,” Bevel murmured, mouth twitching. She could almost see his Jenari-minded humor surging up, preparing to strike.

 

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