# Chapter Thirteen: Cat on a Hot Tin Grid

Author: | Gospodin

# Author's Note

> submarie and I have been alternating writing chapters, occasionally writing two in a row. Before she wrote the following chapter, I ordered her to put on her newly-purchased latex panties with dual-plugs. She spent half an hour just writing, and said that she didn't even realize that she had just sat down normally (since earlier the rear plug had forced her to kneel to avoid putting too much pressure on).

> She sent me mails when she began and ended the chapter, and the total timespan was almost exactly half an hour. She told me later that while she was in "subspace" writing the story, it felt to her like almost two hours. By the end, she was helping her rubber intruders with her middle finger, and she came just before she finished the last paragraph.

> Ordinarily I re-flow her chapters, moving them into the third person and polishing up the English (her second language). This time, however, I am leaving it alone so that you can see what went through her mind as she writhed in her erotic reverie. She said she rushed as she wrote, but I think this is some of her smoothest writing yet.

> —Gospodin

# Subject: next chapter - written while plugged

Answers. Here i might find some, Steed had told me as he gave me the key and explained me the way to his storage room. Yes, a few answers would be very welcome. Questions I had enough by now.

After the party noise the hallway seemed strangely quiet. My cat paws did not disturb the silence at all. What a clever designed costume, I thought once again. My feet did hurt a little but I was able to walk quite elegantly by now -- result of a long evening's training. I looked over the neighborhood which finally came to rest. Dawn was not very far. First of November -- my birthday 364 days away again. This definitely was the strangest birthday party I ever had experienced.

The room was the very last one in the uppermost floor. I turned the key in the door and it slid silently open. The room was empty but for a foot-high pedestal in the middle. All walls covered with mirrors made it look as if it had no limits. I stepped in and stumbled. Only now I noticed the steady grid which covered the whole floor three inches above the ground. I carefully stepped on it. It was safe to stand on as the filaments were less than an inch apart. I was standing on a fine net of metal wires which only slightly gave way to my weight.

The door slid shut behind be. I was standing in the dark, but only for a moment. The grid on the floor started to glow in a very low but warm orange color. I turned around and saw that the inside of the door was covered with mirror too. I was alone and still accompanied by an endless number of catwomen dressed exactly like me. I moved forward and reached the pedestal. There was a narrow bench fixed to the middle of it, another foot high, two feet long and six inches wide, with some items carefully arranged on it. One was a finely done cartoon on a catwoman dressed exactly like me crouching on her knees and elbows. At closer look it became obvious that she could not do otherwise as her ankles were attached to her thighs and her wrists to her shoulders by four conic sheaths, one for each limb.

The sheaths depicted on the cartoon lay next to it on the bench. Careful not to blow up my butt plug again I sat on the bench, pulled one leg up and slid one sheath over my bent up leg. It fit like a glove which somehow did not surprise me. To pull the tightly stretching rubber form off again took all my strength. The two smaller sheaths obviously were made for my arms, and they had the same locking mechanism as the chrome and steel corset I wore to my last working day. Should I? Somehow I knew that it would be the logic way to proceed. To perfect my costume. Or was it a costume? It actually felt nearly like a part of myself by now.

I pulled my left foot close to my thigh again and sheathed it again, then knelt and entrapped my right leg in the same way. There was a sort of metal plate covering my knee. Probably a protection if one would have to walk on these, which of course was nearly impossible. I thought. After a moment of hesitation I pulled the left arm sheath over my left elbow. There was a metal plate in there too. The familiar ratching of the closing mechanism, and my left palm was lying on my left shoulder, the wrist attached tightly to my upper arm. With a flap that I could conceal hand and shoulder.

The free limb that was left was my right arm. The sheath was lying with its opening facing upwards, invitingly. Like a mouth ready to welcome me if I decided to give up my freedom. With a deep sigh I bent my right arm too, leaned forward and pushed it all the way in. The ratching sounded somehow darker than with the left arm. I fell forward and now was indeed standing on my elbows and knees. The dozens of catwomen on all walls were doing exactly like me. I saw how well the sheaths matched with the costume. In the dim orange light no rim was visible.

The feeling was overwhelming. I was aroused and horny but that was not all, not even the most important. I felt happy. Truly happy. All nervousness, all worries about the lost job, the costs of the house seemed to have fallen off me like discarded egg shells. I felt as if I had caught a glimpse of the bottom of my own soul.

Vanity and pride were other feelings normally strange to me that I suddenly discovered in myself. I do not think of myself as a true beauty. Always found my body too skinny, busts too flat, skin too pale, hair too reddish. Now however, I felt the urge to contemplate my reflection more closely. I approached the edge of the pedestal, turned round, and with knees first managed to get down to the grid rather awkwardly. "The elegance of your movement is not yet catlike, Maria", I smiled to myself, as I let all fours down and approached the nearest mirror. The threads of the grid gloomed in a stronger, lighter color where I touched them with my knees and elbows and pressed my weight down. I touched my reflection with my shoulder and meowed to myself, my breath fogging the chilly glass momentarily.

I lifted my left knee, adding pressure to my right one. I quickly brought the left one down again, as sharp pain went through my knee and up my inner thigh. What was this? The spots where my knees touched the grid now shone even brighter than before. The touch inflicted a stinging pain. I thrust my torso and shoulder up and backwards to relieve my elbows. But I had not swung fast and high enough and without any possibility to slow down I fell forward again on my elbows with all my weight. A piercing shriek, catlike, came from my lungs. By now the grid had lightened to yellow but the spots where I touched it were bright white. A short touch was tolerable but when I stayed where I was the pain became unbearable very quickly. I moved on. I crawled along the walls trying to keep the paws on the grid as short as possible. From every wall I was approaching a strange black and white cat was coming towards me. I moved a bit easier now but at the same time the effect of the grid -- heat and electricity -- was increasing. This led to a rather high pace and within minutes I was panting. Sweat was building on my forehead and in the bends of my elbows and knees.

Short rests now were punished severely. The good feeling had vanished. I nearly ran and leaped now, clumsily and awkwardly on the four limbs which were not constructed for walking. The clenching of my buttock muscles resulted in a permanent pumping of the butt plug but I hardly paid attention. The bench on the pedestal! Why had I not thought of it earlier? That had to be my rescue.

I crawled back to the middle of the room and lifted my forepaws on the wooden panel. At once my knees hurt badly but I managed to get them off the ground rather quickly. My poor limbs were hurting badly now although I had escaped from the grid. I felt like having escaped to an island from a sea of fire. The grid dimmed again, almost back to its original orange. I felt a bit lost. What now?

I took a closer look at the bench. It was not plain on the surface but slightly bent to all sides. I thought it might be a nice relief for my torso if I rested a bit on it. There even seemed to be cups for my breast cut into the wood and a support for my throat and forehead which would hold my head up and in vision of another of my reflections. In the deep point of the breast cups and on the lower end some round metal device would come to rest quite closely to my pussy. Four red padded cushions were situated conveniently at the sides of the bench. I accepted the opportunity. What a relief for my elbows and knees! I let my weight slump on the bench -- with the combination of the rings of my body reacting immediately. They linked themselves and locked to corresponding valves in the bench which immediately took away all freedom of movement away form my body from the neck down -- with the exception of a little tail wiggling. Now the same feeling as on the grid started again -- only this time through the three rings, setting my nipples and clit in fire. I already guessed that again there would be some sort of relief, and given the last part of my body I could move I already guessed I would find the relief with my head. The thought alone seemed to have immediate effect as a tail-like structure started to slide out from the front panel of the bench -- I saw it in the mirror -- bent upwards up to the height of my head, then bent again until it touched my rubber lips waiting invitingly. I knew what to do and let them part. But the black rubber tail -- tip suspiciously penis-like shaped -- was holding still now. With some difficulty I was able to suck it into my mouth a bit. Immediate relief for the heat in the three rings was the result. I sucked harder and the reaction in the three rings was reduced to a warm, tingling, arousing touch. I let got of the rubber tail and the pain was back.

"Not hard to find out how it works, even after a long party night", I sighed to myself and gave in. Sucking the dildo brought relief, even pleasure. Releasing it gave pain. Intense pain. So I sucked. Sucked harder. Sucked for all my life. An orgasm was building. I took it in deep. Orgasm rising. Took it in deeper. Increasing pleasure. Sucked it in till it touched the back of my throat. I gagged. The feeing of suffocating brought me over the edge. The most intense, crushing orgasm of my life had struck me. I felt I would faint. All went black.

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