DoD - Pt 1 - Ch 3a: Cats' pet, Dinner
#3 of Dawn of Dusk
Dawn of Dusk - Part 1: Tavern Wench - Chapter 3a: Cats' pet, Dinner
© 2009 - 2018 Nameless
I leaned back against the bar and surveyed the taproom. It was more than half full and business was decent but apart from than that the afternoon and evening had been disappointing. So many people and none of them inspired me much. Oh, I was sure that I would find somebody to keep me company at night, but right now it looked like it wouldn't be anybody interesting. There was a table full of Tukans, mercenaries by their looks. A couple of them were quite handsome. The problem was, they were all celestials - they wore the symbol of Saint George openly - and like most of their ilk, they despised furs. They were careful not to show it too openly, but they didn't try hiding it all that hard either. They were courteous on the surface, but when their leader ordered drinks or thanked me for bringing them, he sounded more as if was talking to a clever pet than to a person. And while they hadn't called me a 'pelt' to my face, they had used the word more than once. I guess they didn't even realize that my ears let me hear quite a bit better than the average human, at least when I turn them in their direction. They had wondered how much a quick tumble in the hay with me would cost. The highest rate one of them suggested (not to my face) would have me do the lot of them for less than the price of a mug of ale. I don't follow Andariel, I don't go for a tumble just for the money, but an extra tip can make a male look a little more attractive to me, to put it that way. But what they offered would have offended any but the most desperate followers of Andariel. When they asked, I turned them down flat. Firm, but (reasonably) polite. I didn't feel like being polite to them, but letting off a bit of steam was no excuse for starting a brawl (I'm certain that the locals among the patrons would have come to my aid) that might trash my family's inn. After that they began talking about my supposed shortcomings and how they were 'glad' that I had refused. They smelled as if they hadn't bathed in at least an eightday or more, yet one of them had the gall to say that he wouldn't mind riding me if not for the lice. And he had wondered where he might find a bath in the middle of the night to clean himself afterwards. And the others had agreed with him. Of course they had no idea I had heard them. No, them I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole.
There was another group of caravan guards, these from southern Irnqua by their accent. They looked like they had seen better times. I might not have minded too much, but they had been good for business, too good. Since coming here for dinner, they had drunken at least as much as all the other guests taken together. Another round or two and most of them wouldn't be able to stand up, let alone get other things up. There was a patrol of the town guard (not on duty at the moment). They were comforting as protection; with them as patrons in the inn it was unlikely that any of the other guests would start a brawl. But they were hardly interesting. Well, the youngest was interesting, but he was getting married in a week. As a follower of Lillith I wouldn't intrude on a relationship, at least no without permission from his betrothed. The others were a little old - but not really too old - for my tastes. And they were either (more or less) happily married. Or they didn't have a partner. And usually for good reasons. There were a few decent and available men in the guard, but none of them were here tonight. Those that were here might do in a pinch, but I wasn't that desperate yet. A group of apprentices occupied a table in the middle of the room. They were younger than the town guards, but similar in this respect: the good ones were all in a relationship at the moment (and not at a stage where they or their girl were looking to anybody else). The others were jerks. Again, they might do in a pinch, but I didn't really feel like dealing with any of them today. My musings about who might help me keep my bed warm in the night were interrupted when the caravan guards ordered another round of ale. I signaled that I had heard them and waited while my father filled clean tankards from the tap. I barely managed to lift all the mugs at once, but straining my arms was preferable to making two trips. I delivered the drinks and collected their coins and the empty mugs. Breathing as little as possible, I endured their bad jokes (they might have been funny if I had been as drunk as them) and drunken pawing until I could make my escape without giving too much offense. I felt dizzy, had I stayed much longer their jokes would started being funny; the fumes around their table were getting pretty bad, even though the table was close to an open window. I returned to the bar, handed the coins and empty mugs to my father, and when nobody else required my services for the moment, resumed my musings. There were a few more guests scattered around the room, but none of them interested me much. There were a few merchants and other travelers who stayed in our inn and a few craftsmen and laborers. There was the merchant in whose bed I had shared last night, but I had not enjoyed his company much and I was definitely not interested to repeat the experience. He had offered me a silver shilling (a lot of money for one night, especially for somebody like me) but even that much money did not really tempt me. There was one table with guests who had interested me. Roughly facing the bar, with her back against the wall, sat a female cat. She looked mostly like a regular house cat, though there might have been some lynx blood in her as well. Her fur was light gray with some white and buff spots and stripes. There was just a hint of tassels (tufts of fur) on her ears, hinting at the lynx blood. I judged her to be in her late twenties or early thirties, by her clothing she was from Gallycis but something in her accent rubbed me wrong. Still, I am no expert and Gallycis is a big place; there might be any number of innocent explanations. She claimed to be a trader of gemstones and curiosities. It might be true or she might be a messenger or a spy. Her bright green eyes shone with intelligence and mirth and they darted across the room almost constantly, though they seemed to look my way rather more often than might be expected. While I waited here at the bar, I did stand in the center of her field of vision and I caught her looking at me several times. Facing her sat her two men-at-arms. Both were young, handsome and obviously very fit. They wore light leather armor and Gallycian thrusting swords (long narrow blades and, from what I had heard, difficult to master but deadly in the hands of an expert). The one on the right was a pure human. The other one was only mostly human. He hadn't told me (and it would have been impolite to ask), but I figured that one of his grandparents or great-grandparents had been a cat. The hair on his head was light gray, his fingers were rather stubby and the back of his hands was covered with downy fur, they looked as much like paws than human hands. His eyes were green, and the pupils, while round, had seemed a little taller than wide. From the markings on his fur he might be distantly related to his mistress. When they had sat down for dinner, I had tried flirting with the two males; I certainly wouldn't have minded sharing my bed with either (or both) of them. But they had rebuffed me; well, not so much rebuffed as they had simply ignored my flirting. They had been perfectly courteous, even friendly, but they had not reacted to my advances in any way or form. After a while I had given up. Since I had been pretty obvious about it they were either really stupid (and they didn't strike me as simple) or they were not interested in me. At first I had assumed that they shared their mistress' bed, but then I remembered that they had rented separate rooms. She had taken our second-best room for herself (she had wanted our best room, but that was already taken by the merchant I had spent the previous night with) and a smaller room, just big enough for two, for her guardians. At some point I had noticed their hands touching under the table. Once I knew what to look for, I began to notice furtive looks and other little signs that quickly made it clear where their affections lay. I considered it likely that the sheets of only one of the beds in their room would be rumpled come morning. I didn't know why they were so furtive about it, nobody here (in Savan) would really care one way or the other. But that wasn't true everywhere, so maybe they were just used to the furtiveness; if you traveled a lot, especially to any lands affiliated with the celestials, it was a good idea to hide your affection for anyone but your lawfully wed spouse, and one of the opposite sex. The three had been drinking our best beer, but they had not drunk a lot of it.
I delivered another round of drinks to the apprentices, chatted with them for a while and then returned to my place at the bar. Those I would have liked to flirt with weren't interested in me and those who were interested to flirt with me, I wasn't. The female cat waved me over. I approached her and curtsied, "What do you wish, Milady?" While she had not claimed any title, she had an air of authority about her. Her clothes, though fit for travel, whispered of wealth. Besides it never hurt to address a paying customer, especially a well paying one, with a little more deference than strictly necessary. She smiled at me, showing her sharp teeth, but not so openly as to be threatening, "What is your name, girl?" "Daisy, if it pleases Milady." "What a pretty name for a pretty girl!" Her eyes suddenly sparkled mischievously, "Say, Daisy. Would you be game for a little wager?" "Um mm..." "Nothing improper." She touched her heart. "On that cord around your neck hangs a pendant of your favorite deity, does it not?" I nodded. "I have not seen it." She laid a sixpence coin on the table, "If I guess correctly you owe me a small favor. If not you get the coin. Well?" "What kind of favor are we talking about? Milady?" "Just a small one. You can refuse it if you can honestly swear that what I ask is offensive to you and I will choose something else." I considered her offer. There was a chance that she had seen the pendant, but I found that I believed her claim that she had not. Even if she had not, there was a good chance that she would guess correctly anyway; there were not all that many likely choices after all and Lillith was perhaps the likeliest one. But Andariel wasn't unlikely either. Still, sixpence was sixpence. During the slower seasons I might have to work a whole eightday to earn that much in tips. And since she had allowed me to reject her choice of favor, I felt that could hardly refuse. I curtsied again, "I agree, Milady." She grinned, "Very good." and motioned me to come closer. Her paw cupped my chin and forced me (gently but firmly) to look her in the eyes. The fingers of her other paw examined my face, touching me gently with the soft pads on her fingers. Her grin widened and her eyes sparkled. Finally she declared, "Lillith." I admitted,"Yes Milady." and pulled the pendant out of my blouse, showing it to her. She held the Lilly pendant between her fingers, admiring it, "Very pretty, Daisy." She released it and commanded, "Bring us another four small mugs of that wonderful beer." I looked at her, considering. Four mugs of the special brew were not that cheap. My father would probably not make me pay for them out of what I earned from tips, but he wouldn't be happy having to part with them without pay. After a moment she added, "The price of the beer is not the favor, I'll pay for that don't you worry. Four, you hear. Go!" She handed me the coin from the table and waved me away; I obeyed without question. While I waited for my father to draw the requested drinks I wondered why she wanted four mugs; after all there were only three people at her table. But I had seen more than my share of 'eccentric' guests, so put it out of my mind. I returned to their table and placed the drinks in front of them, putting the fourth mug in the center of the table, and curtsied, "Here you are, Milady. Sir." Before I could leave the cat lady patted the bench next to her, "Sit." It might not have been an outright command, but I found myself obeying anyway. She placed the fourth mug in front of me, turned to smile at me and said, "So, Daisy. The favor I ask of you is simply this. Keep me company while we drink our beer. Will you do this?" I would have hardly called that a favor, especially since she had paid for my drink, but if she considered this a favor, it was hardly one I could refuse. There was one little problem, but she addressed that before I could speak: "If the other guests require your services, you may attend to them, provided you return to me without undue delay." "Then I accept gladly, Milady." "Call me Thistle. My handsome companions here are Serrin and Agan." (Serrin was the mixed blood) She raised her mug, "Cheers. Lillith's blessing on you." "And blessings upon you." She turned to me, now sitting with one leg on the bench (the foot in the crook of the other leg's knee) and regarded me. The silence stretched, but I had no idea what to say. Eventually she asked, "Do you want to know why I guessed Lillith?" "Yes, Milady." Suddenly she looked unhappy and I corrected myself, "Yes, Mistress Thistle." That form of address seemed to please her, "Well, it was a number of things, but there are two big reasons: First, I wanted it to be Lillith. Had you answered, say, Andariel, I wouldn't have been much interested in that favor anyway. I thought it unlikely that a tavern wench would follow Marilith. I saw how fresh some of those guys were with you, if you were a follower of Marilith, they would be leaking blood instead of drinking ale. But you didn't seem meek either, so I did not think it was Lirriel." "I see." "Second, I have been watching you all evening. Watching and listening. You were considering who to spend the night with. And it didn't look as if you found any of the males here particularly attractive. Right?" "Yes, Mistress Thistle." She smiled, "I overheard that merchant. Unless you're really a princess pretending to be a servant for a lark, you wouldn't have turned down a silver shilling for one night if you followed Andariel. Maybe if he had asked you to follow Lirriel's butt, but not if he was just a little - or even a lot - unpleasant. And several other guests did show more than a little interest, but I didn't see you trying to get them interested to raise your price. I'm sure you know these males better than me, but they can't all be so bad that a follower of Andariel would have turned them down that quickly. Your behavior makes little sense if you follow Andariel but a lot more if it's Lillith." I nodded and drank a small sip of the rather potent beer, "So. My pretty Daisy flower..." Her smile became warm. Suddenly one of her paws touched my knee and slid up my thigh slowly, stopping with the fingertips just under my skirt. The touch, while extremely suggestive, was not so far up my skirt that I would consider indecent or offensive. Some females might be offended, any follower of the celestials certainly would be, but to a follower of Lillith or one of her daughters it was perfectly normal, provided you were on good terms with the person in question. Her voice low and throaty, almost like a purr, she asked, "If you don't like any the males available to you today, how about a female?" I stared at her and felt the fur on my cheeks flare from the sudden heat. Part of me wanted nothing more than to jump up and run, but I had given my word to sit with her. Her touch, while suggestively intimate, was hardly reason enough to leave in a huff, not unless her fingers slid a lot further up my thigh. After all, I tolerated a lot more from male customers; even ones I wasn't particularly interested in would have to do a lot more than that before I let them feel my anger. It wasn't like I had never been with a female, I could hardly have claimed to follow Lillith if I had not. Anybody serious about worshiping our Mother would attend the priestess for a private prayer occasionally. And I had fooled around with my sister, my mother or other girls more than once. It had been fun, though not always all that much but sometimes it had been very nice, but I had honestly never really considered spending a whole night with a female. Or at least just with a female, that is, a few times I had joined a couple of travelers for play and sleep. My eyes dropped down and I found my paw covering hers, holding her paw tightly, almost breaking the skin with my claws, but unsure whether to remove her paw or to urge it further. I stammered, "Um... I... Um..." A sip of the beer failed to calm my nerves. Her expression warmed even more while at the same time taking on a slightly predatory air. Feeling my indecision, she was getting ready to ponce, at least figuratively. She asked. "Half of you wants to slap my paw away and half wants to know how my fingers would feel in your milk saucer, don't you?" It took me a moment to make sense of her expression, but once I did my cheeks heated up further; and further still when I realized just how well she was reading me. I barely managed a shallow nod. Her other paw lifted and closed in on my chest, but rather than feeling me up, a finger touched the Lilly pendant gently, "Daisy, I respect your devotion to Mother Lillith and I would never defile that by forcing myself on you. If you reject me, fine, but don't reject yourself." She had put her finger on an important point: I had every right to refuse, for good reasons or on a whim, but if I was interested, I shouldn't just reject her out of hand. I needed to justify it, if only to myself. I was terrified but at the same time I was more than a little interested to see what she had to offer. Her paw moved to her own throat and removed a pendant and displaying it openly. I hardly had to look to know that it showed an Orchid, the symbol of Lespia, one of Lillith's children and the deity of love between females. She sipped from her mug, her sparkling green eyes never leaving mine. "Wensch, Ale!" The shout rescued me for the moment. I managed to whisper, "I'll be right back, Mistress Thistle." and got up. I walked to the bar, almost certain nobody would be able to see how wobbly my knees felt. I could almost feel her paw on my thigh. Or more correctly, I felt the lack of her touch. Standing at the bar, I breathed slowly to calm my nerves while I waited for my father to finish filling the mugs. He gave me a strange look, looked at the cat femme and then back at me and grinned. It was a gently teasing look, not a judging one. Once I looked back to her; when she noticed me she licked her lips slowly and sensually. My heart skipped a beat, I could almost feel her tongue on my lips, and not just on the ones around my mouth. I delivered the drinks to the caravan guards. One, perhaps the most sober one, grabbed my arm and blabbered, "Hey, pretty girlsh. Forgetsh sshe carpetschmunsssher. Lesch a realal man shshowsh you good timesch!" It took a while for them to find the money to pay. As soon as I could I fled from them. Passing the table with the Tukans I noticed that their tankards were mostly empty and asked if they wanted more drinks. "Whore! Do you have no shame? With anther woman? Begone!" He made a sign of warding against evil. Shocked at the hateful tones I stood frozen for a moment and then fled. So did they; their leader said something in a commanding voice in their native tongue, the rest drained their mugs and they left. I handed the coins and empty mugs to my father. "Are you alright, Daisy?" My paws gripped the edge of the bar to steady my body and I took a few deep breaths before I answered with a wan smile, "I'm alright. They just surprised me." I turned around and looked around the room, but no-one else seemed to require my services. I waited a little, but then I decided that I had stalled as much as I dared and made my way back to the table with a widely grinning female cat.
I sat down, picked up my mug and drained more than half of the potent beer in one gulp. I do drink Ale, everybody does, but usually only the weak stuff. I can't really afford to drink much when I work and it doesn't take all that much to get me drunk in any case. Suddenly I felt... strange. I stared at the mostly empty mug for a long moment and then I turned to the female next to me, lifted my upper leg onto the bench to mirror her position and looked at her. "So, my pretty Daisy. Well?" "I... I just don't know." "Half of you wants me, the other half is scared of me, right?" I nodded numbly. "Well, I do have a simple test to find if I'm interested in someone." After a few moments the silence became too much and I asked, "Yes?" "It's really simple. I kiss her. If I like the kiss, if I feel something and it's the same for her, then that is a good indication that we will have fun together. I'd much rather spend a night just kissing someone whose kisses make my lips burn with passion than do... all kinds of things with someone who can't even make my lips tingle. Well?" Her smile and sparkling green eyes seemed to envelop me. I stared at her, suddenly my heart thundered in my chest and for a long moment I couldn't breathe. I could read her just fine, the suggestion was as much a trap as an honest suggestion. If I kissed her, really kissed her, I would be going a step too far; I knew that I wouldn't be able to turn her down afterwards unless the kiss was unpleasant. On the other paw, an honest and serious offer to kiss, even an intimate kiss wasn't something I could (or wanted to) turn down easily. If I was serious about following Lillith, I couldn't just turn somebody down when I was attracted to him (or in this case her). She had laid her snares well, and I found that I didn't really want to escape all that badly. I leaned forward and my lips parted a little. After a moment she responded; our lips me, then our tongues. Her eyes seemed to grow until I could see nothing else. Her scent and taste filled me, strange, a little unpleasant but also exciting. Eventually our lips parted. Mine continued to tingle; it had been a very good kiss, but not quite a toe-curler. Still, my tail had lifted, my breath was a little ragged and a warm glow had begun deep in my belly. Her sparkling green eyes regarded me; they seemed to laugh at me; they teased me and seemed to say, "That was just a first taste. Now if you want to find out what I can really do...". After a long moment of silence she asked, "Well, Daisy?" The smile on her lips said she already knew my answer, but she had to ask anyway. And she wanted to hear it from me. I didn't know what to say. I tried, again and again, but my voice refused to work. Eventually I took her paw in mine, placed it on my thigh and slid it up slowly, releasing it only when it was almost completely under my skirt. Her smile widened and widened, as only a cat's can do, "How far do you want me to go?" I finally managed to find my voice, if only just, and whispered, "Don't stop. Mistress Thistle." Her smile widened into a grin, first friendly, then mischievous; then her lips pulled back to reveal her needle-sharp teeth and her grin took on a decidedly sinister air. I swallowed, suddenly apprehensive, even afraid. But I couldn't just go back on my word and at least a part of me was certain that she was only playing with me. The paw on my thigh started moving slowly, dropping from the top of my thigh to the inside and approaching the joining of my legs. The fingers ruffled the fur gently with their soft pads, but every now and then a little pinprick from a claw send a shock up my leg and spine. I felt my flower begin to get moist, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the approaching fingers. The tiny painful pricks from her claws only added to the excitement. Her other paw touched my throat and then moved down to the top of my blouse. She undid the knot at the top and unlaced the first few knotholes. The fingers slid inside, rubbing my right nipple for a moment and poking it gently with a claw before withdrawing once more. The paw moved to my neck, touching me gently and possessively. She pulled my head closer and we kissed once more. She broke the kiss just when it started feeling really good and instead licked and kissed my nose, face, ears and throat. I tried to return the favor, but she laid a finger of her paw across my lips, stopping me. Her controlling manner terrified me a little but I submitted to her ministrations eagerly. I breathed a "Yes!" into her ears when her questing fingers finally reached my flower. The fingertips touched the lips, fanning the flames of desire in my belly. But they refused to proceed any further and frustration began to rise in me. Every time I tried to move and feel more of her, she stopped me, first with a gentle touch and, when I tried again, with a claw. She stopped nuzzling my neck and pushed me away gently. Our eyes met and I felt myself falling into them; bright green and sparkling, full of mischievous laughter and desire. I felt them looking into my soul, enjoying my frustrated desire. The paw slid down my back, coming to a rest just at the edge of the sensitive spot at the base of my tail. Her voice low, barely above a purr, she asked, "Now, my pretty little Daisy, you have three choices: One, you decide you don't want to spend the night with me and we just part ways. Two, we spend the night together and have some fun. Three, you agree to be my pet for the night and we have a lot of fun. Well?" I discarded the first option right away; I had come too far to stop now. It felt a little strange to go to bed with a female, but I simply had to find out what it was like. Fear and desire warred in me, fear cautioned me to take the safer option, desire wanted to know everything that my mistress could do with and to my body. "Can't make up your mind? Do you know what being my pet entails?" "Not clearly." "I'm a cat; I like playing with my toys. If you agree, you become my slave until I have broken my fast tomorrow, you do whatever I command. I will play with you; sometimes I like to play rough. I will cause some pain, but I won't hurt you seriously, I won't cause you really bad pain and I will not inflict any lasting harm. I will use you for my pleasure, but I'd be a bad follower of Her" here she touched the Orchid pendant hanging from her neck "it I didn't give you pleasure as well. I want you to beg and plead and then I want to hear you scream with joy. Well?" I stared at her, my heart thundering in my chest, terror and lust almost balanced. Suddenly I felt a finger ruffle the fur between my legs and the lust won, "Mistress, your pet awaits your command."
Her grin widened even further; I had no idea how she managed to do that without the top of her head falling off. I could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she considered what to do with and to me. Her leg slid off the bench and she returned to sit facing the table. She commanded, "Kneel here." patting the bench on both sides of her rump. She helped me get into position. I knelt on the bench, sitting on her thighs, with my bare rear pressed against the table (the rear of my skirt was piled up on the table), just below the base of my tail, which I had raised high. At her command I held onto the edge of the table. "Good. Now listen, my pet! Here are some basic rules: First, you don't come without my permission. No matter how much I tease you, until I give you permission, you hold it back. Understood?" "Yes, Mistress." "Second, when you are interested in me, show it. Don't let modesty or shame stop you. If you want me then keep that tail up. And if you are the type to make noises when she's having fun, then make some." "Yes, Mistress." "Good. Third, that should go without saying, you do as I tell you. And don't try to undo something I do unless I tell you to. Any questions?" "No, Mistress. Um-mm... I understand, Mistress I have no questions." "Good. Don't move unless I tell you to." She lifted the front of my skirt, looking at my spread flower, wet with desire. She blew air at me, sending shivers up into my belly. "Lift your chin and close your eyes." I did as commanded and moments later I felt soft fingertips touching the insides of my thighs and the lips of my flower. After a bit I felt the skirt drop down on my thighs again and then her right paw began to explore my body, starting from my rump and working slowly upwards. I felt her hot breath on my throat and then her tongue licked me. Her fingers kept touching me, gently but insistently with the occasional pinpricks thrown in to keep me on my toes. My arousal increased, slowly, little by little; there were occasional pauses when she let me cool off a little only to assault my most sensitive spots once more. My heart beat faster and faster, I was panting and had to fight to keep from moving. Especially the paw between my legs inflicted a sweet, sweet torture on me; the fingers slid along my lips, entered just a tiny little bit before withdrawing once more. My hips tried to follow them, but since they could hardly move far, my efforts remained frustrated and frustrating. A finger entered me, penetrating a little further each time only to withdraw once more. After a moment I heard a slurping noise and my mistress' pleased voice, "Hm-mm, delicious rodent milk." The fur on my cheeks flared in embarrassment. The finger invaded me again, only to withdraw as quickly as it had come. A moment later I smelled the familiar notes of my nectar. She commanded, "Tongue out!" and I tasted the juices of my arousal. Once clean, the finger withdrew. I heard a tiny rustling and suddenly the finger touched my nose, filling it with a new scent. It was similar to my own, but different, sweet but with sharp undertones. I realized that my mistress had rubbed some of the juices of her own arousal on my nose and the fur around it. A few moments later the finger touched my still extended tongue and her taste filled me. With a touch she made me close my mouth. Breathing the scents of my mistress's desire with every breath only fueled my own. "Sit on the table." With a little help from my mistress I lifted my rump up on the table, sitting close to the edge. She positioned my feet on the bench, about where my knees had rested moments before, probably a little further apart. "Lie back." I leaned back and after a moment hands steadied my shoulders and lowered me to the table. My skirt was flipped up and I felt her hot breath tease the wet skin between my legs. Again and again her hot breath teased me, I could not see what she was doing, but her mouth could not have been far from my flower. Suddenly she blew air directly into me; I shivered, more from excitement than cold. My mistress' voice was almost a purr, "Mm-mm yummy rodent milk." and suddenly I realized that the taproom was unusually quiet. I blushed, realizing that almost everybody must be watching my mistress and me. And I couldn't even tell how much the other guests could see of my body. Probably not all that much as my crotch faced towards my mistress and the wall behind her. I tried to make out what the low voices were saying, but before I could make much sense of them, a rough tongue touched the lips of my flower and began licking it gently. Within moments I forgot about everything else. The tongue teased me mercilessly, licking one side, then the other, mostly touching me so lightly I could barely feel it, but occasionally hard enough to be almost painful. Every now and then the tip darted inside to lap up my nectar; appreciative noises followed after each such incursion. I barely heard the night bells from the temple. My father's hands, clapping loudly finally cut through the haze I was in. "Last orders! Last orders!" Several guest called out orders for drinks. "Hey mistress! Could I please have my serving girl back for a bit?" "What if I refuse?" "I think I'll have to insist. What she does in her free time is her own business, but until she serves that last round, she is still mine to command." "Alright. Mind if I have a little fun with her?" My father sounded amused, "Not really. So long as she can attend to her duties, I'm fine with it." I guess there's a downside to anything. My parents let me play as much as I want, but of course then they don't protect me from any small indignities that brings to me. "You can have her in a moment." Suddenly my mistress' fingers entered my flower. My moan of pleasure almost turned into a scream of joy, but then I remembered her previous command and forced myself back from the edge of an orgasm; groaning in disappointment and panting hard. When her fingers withdrew, I noticed that she had pushed some of my skirt deep into me. "Open your eyes and sit." I obeyed, my mistress helped me by anchoring my feet. She released me and pointed at the floor next to the bench. "Stand here." I scrambled to obey. "Turn around." I turned my back to her and felt her lift the rear of my skirt and pin it up under the belt. One paw slid between my legs and two fingers entered my already wet slit while her other paw squeezed my bare rump and rubbed the sensitive spot at the base of my tail. She didn't stop the sweet torture until I started to whimper, struggling not to come. As her left paw slid out of me, it tugged at the front of my skirt, pulling it out of my wet sex. I think the only ones in the room who might not know where the big wet spot on the front of my skirt came from were the caravan guards, and that only because they had either passed out from too many drinks or were close enough not to notice much at all. My mistress sent me away with a smack on the rear, "Attend you duties, my pet."
I hurried to the bar, panting hard and barely able to walk; my knees felt so weak I feared they would give way with every step. Somehow I managed to get there. Holding the edge of the bar, I struggled to get my breathing under control. My father grinned at me, quite obviously enjoying my discomfort. He didn't have to mouth the saying, "When you make your bed you lie in it." After a minute I got myself under enough control to turn around and look to see which of our guests wanted drinks. And drinks they did want, no surprise there. It wasn't really the first time I had lost a bet or been tricked, cajoled or simply talked into providing a little (or, on one memorable occasion, a lot of) entertainment for the whole room. While my father did not exactly like it when I made a spectacle of myself, he was also the owner of our inn. And so far the extra entertainment my antics provided for the guests had never failed to increase business. And like the previous times, it caused a lot of extra work for me, sending me scurrying this way and that. Suddenly our guests forget to order only to remember it once I had served the drinks to the next guy. It was tiring, but at least the tips were good. My rump began to complain a little from all the 'accidental' smacks and gropes, but I was mostly used to it and it wasn't all that bad. At some point Mistress Thistle found her way over to the merchant I had rejected earlier and made friends with him and I had to serve them small cups of spirits so they could toast to my health. And to assure themselves that I was indeed healthy, or at least that some parts of me were working properly and looked healthy. Finally my father put an end to it by announcing that he would only accept one more order per table. Our guests dragged it out as much as possible, but eventually I delivered the final tankard of ale and I was done. I found Thistle standing at the bar, talking to my father who poured her a final drink. I delivered my armload of empty tankards to the sink and turned to her. She grinned down at me (she was a goof half head taller than me) and I bowed and announced, "Mistress, I am finished with my work. I am yours to command."
She lifted the cup to her lips and considered me over the rim as she sipped. She commanded, "Take off your clothes, my pet." I felt my cheeks heat with embarrassment and excitement, "Yes, Mistress Thistle." I unlaced my blouse, took it off and folded it up. My father took it from me (this late in the evening the top of the bar was always a little wet and sticky from spilled drinks), trying very hard not to grin. I untied the soft rope I used as a belt for my skirt, stepped out of it and handed it to my father as well. I stood and waited while my mistress examined my body with her eyes. As did all the other guests, I could feel their eyes on my rear. "Serrin, bring me that bench here, will you?" "Yes, Mistress." He got up and brought the short bench to us. My mistress took my paw and directed me to stand next to her. Her man put the bench down close to where we stood. "Thank you, Serrin. Would you please bring my leather satchel? You know which one, the one with the green tassels." "Of course, Mistress." She handed him the key to her room and he left. She patted the bench and commanded, "Kneel here, my pet." My cheeks heated up even more, but after a moment I obeyed. "Cross your wrists behind your back." I did as she commanded and then moved my knees further apart until she was satisfied. All eyes in the room were on me. Thistle stood behind me, she offered me her cup with the right paw while her left began to caress my body. She let me sip a little of the sweet wine and then drank herself, draining the small cup. Then she turned her whole attention to me, caressing me with both paws and nuzzling my neck. The soft pads on her fingers quickly found my sensitive spots and to make things worse, so did her claws. She didn't draw any blood, but the little pinpricks sent shivers of fear and lust up and down my spine. The gentle glow deep in my belly was quickly fanned to red-hot life, my nipples hardened and I started panting. I almost came when my mistress bit my right ear with her needle-sharp teeth. I couldn't tell if her teeth broke my skin or not. I arced my back in pleasure. She licked the inside of my ear and whispered, "Don't come without permission, my pet." I groaned in disappointment, trying desperately to keep my arousal down. "Look at them, they love you, don't they?" I had almost forgotten about our audience, suddenly the leering faces came back into focus and I blushed furiously when I realized what a show I was giving them. One of the leering apprentices chose just that moment to shout, "Make that Daisy flower squirt her nectar!" I whimpered in arousal when my mistress's finger invaded my wet flower, scooped up some of my nectar and brought it to her mouth. I couldn't see her face, but I didn't have to to know she was licking up my nectar lasciviously, I could see the appreciation on the spectator's faces. She wiped the finger on my cheek and went back to teasing my quivering body. I whimpered and panted, "Stop, Mistress. I can't keep it down much longer!" She licked my ear and whispered another warning, "Don't you dare to come without my permission!" But her fingers did dial down their sweet torture a little. Then she addressed the spectators, "You want to see my little pet's saucer spill her milk? Bad luck, that's only for my eyes to see. And only my tongue will lap up her milk." She ignored the booing calls, probably even enjoyed them.
She finally stopped teasing my body, at least for a moment. Distracted as I had been, I had completely failed to notice Serrin's return. I could hear Mistress Thistle rummage around in her leather satchel, but since she was doing it behind my back I couldn't see what she was doing. After a bit she asked, "Will you wear this, my pet?" My heart almost skipped a beat when I saw what she held in front of my face: It was a thick and wide leather collar set with a silver cat's head and the words "Cat's Pet". A shiver of fear and lust ran down my spine. It took me a few moments to collect myself and answer, "Yes, Mistress Thistle, I will gladly wear your collar." She chuckled and put the collar around my neck. Then she said a word that I couldn't quite make out. Another shiver ran through me as I felt a bit of my spirit drawn into the collar, powering the spell that locked it around my neck. It fit perfectly (or at least what my mistress would consider perfectly), very tight but not so tight as to suffocate me. It was wide enough to restrict the movement of my head somewhat. The collar seemed very light and heavy at the same time. My mistress produced six more similar, but smaller, devices, two for my wrists, two for my ankles and two for my tail. One by one they were put on me and similarly locked into place. One was locked around the base of my tail, just far enough from my spine so I could move my tail and the last one went on my tail, about two thirds of the way up. Like the collar they were obviously enchanted and fit just as snugly. She produced two very short leather straps from the satchel. The first one had two small metal disks at the end. When she touched one to the leather band at the end of my tail it stuck fast. She pulled my tail up and affixed the other end of the strap to the collar around my neck. The second strap had three such disks, two at the end and one in the middle. The middle one was attached to the band around the base of my tail, the other two to my wrists. Each time she put one of the restraints on me, a shiver ran through me, each one stronger than the last. Each one both terrifying and exciting. She produced two metal disks, which she touched to the inside of my ankles, where they stuck. Then she commanded, "Stand up." I obeyed quickly. When I stood, I found that the two metal disks at my ankles pushed against the insides of my ankles in a very unpleasant way. When I moved my legs apart a little, the unpleasant sensation subsided. It finally stopped when my feet stood about a pace apart. Mistress Thistle walked around me and considered me. "Hmm, you look tasty, my little pet." Her fingers touched my nipples, rear end and the wet lips of my flower. She licked her finger and smiled, "Yes, very tasty indeed." She obviously enjoyed my embarrassment. After a few more moments she walked back to the bar, where (so I assumed from what I could hear) she packed up the things in the satchel. Then she declared, "Show's over." and then she commanded, "Let's go, my pet." "Yes, Mistress." I turned around and walked towards the stairs. I could feel my mistress' eyes on my rear. But before I could start up the stairs she commanded, "To the outhouse." She followed me there and into one of the stalls, closing the door behind her. After a few moments she pointed at the hole and asked, "What are you waiting for?" Humiliated and blushing furiously, I sat down and relieved myself. When I was done we traded places and I had to watch her as she did her own business. When she was done, she commanded, "To my room." and followed me back into the main house and up the stairs.