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-- *BUT* -- 

Reposting without express permission of the copyright owner (namely, *me*) is illegal and could, therefore, result in legal action. My stories are *only* intened for display at www.mcstories.com, and my personal web page. Thank you.

- 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!*

	
	
