pretty hole,” he tells me, still exploring the crinkled area. I want to clench my cheeks, but he thought this through. I can’t clench when he’s made me hold them open. I’m dying. This is so wrong.
I am so wet.
It’s almost a mercy when he finally sets the metal tip of the plug against my butt.
“I have some lube at hand, but this is already quite wet. Let’s see how far we can go.”
Dyyyying. The tip swirls into the crinkle, and starts to press in. My muscles tighten. I whimper.
“Shhh, it’s all right, pet. This plug is small. It will be uncomfortable, but you’ll be all right.”
Well, thanks. I bite back all manner of snarky responses.
He applies pressure to the plug, and I’m grateful he doesn’t just slam it home. It feels so weird, so wrong. I am panting, head tipped to the floor, but my pussy is a waterfall. If I grind on his leg, I’ll leave it an absolute mess.
“You’re doing so well. Here.” His finger returns with a dollop of something cool he spreads around my back hole. Lube. He presses his finger in and it somehow breaches the clenched ring of muscle and enters my bottom.
Ladies and gentleman, Dimitri’s finger is up my ass.
“I could sit here all night, like this,” Dimitri says. “You’re so hot inside, and tight.”
Dead. I am dead. I rock my hips and whimper. His finger comes out, and I sag for the second the pressure’s off. But the plug soon follows. It slides in with only a little resistance.
“There it is. Good girl.”
I wriggle but can’t get comfortable. There is a plug up my butt, and my body keeps warning me it doesn’t belong.
“Now for your reward.” He presses something to my sex, sliding between the folds and up against my clit. It’s a slim plastic toy that comes alive, buzzing. The intense vibrations flip a switch and my orgasm hits me. I convulse, still ass up over his lap, the toy stretching my rear, silky tail fur tickling the back of my leg.
“Good girl. Again.” And he makes me come again and again, then shows me the dripping toy.
“Well done, Gwen. I think you like it when I plug your ass.”
I want to complain, but I really can’t argue with that. Dimitri helps me up and brushes the hair back from my face.
I scrunch up my nose, shifting on his hard thighs to show my displeasure.
“Don’t pout, kitty. You look so nice.” He smooths down my dress, making a show of straightening me out. “Your costume is almost complete.”
He’s right. Now, when I look around the room filled with people in fancy outfits, I don’t feel like I stick out. I worked as hard on my costume as they did theirs. Maybe harder.
“There. Are you going to be good?”
“Meow.”
He looks away for a second but I catch his grin. “I thought so. You’re a good kitty, but you’re missing one thing.”
He holds up a length of white ribbon. The sight of it unspools a memory, but then it’s gone, flying away in the face of what comes next.
Dimitri ties the ribbon around my neck; a makeshift collar. My heart thuds so loudly. “When you wear this, you call me Sir.”
Call me Sir. Memory tugs so hard, I jerk back.
“Pet?”
Pet. I was here last night. I was spanked by a handsome man I gave all my trust. He called me pet.
“Gwen? Everything all right?”
The darkness opens and swallows the memory whole. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.” I’ve just been collared. It feels important. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, wanting to snuggle as close to him as possible. If he pulls me away, I’ll go, but for a second, I need this closeness.
He doesn’t pull me away. His arms come around me. “My pleasure.” Is there a hitch in his voice? Is he having second thoughts?
I stay like that, curled up in his lap, letting him stroke and soothe me.
“Who is this, Dimitri?” says an amused male voice, with a slight accent.
Dimitri runs a hand down my back. “This is my darling, Fluffy.”
“I see.” If the man thinks it’s at all weird that there’s a grown woman sitting in Dimitri’s lap, with a fluffy pink tail disappearing up her dress, he doesn’t mention it. “So good of you to join tonight’s festivities. Would you like to reserve the St. Andrew’s Cross later tonight? In case your pet misbehaves?”
“Ah, no.” Dimitri keeps stroking my hair, as if