*ATTENTION: This is copyright cat_slave 2001. Any of my 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 are *only* intened for display at www.mcstories.com, and my personal web
page. Thank you.
- cat_slave
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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. 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."
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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 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 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 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 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!*
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