There's something about the way she moves that reminds me of a cat.
Graceful, no wasted effort, efficient and yet somehow langourous and lazy at
the same time. The way she can sort of slink, barely makes a noise. God, it
turns me on to see her move. God, it turns me on to see her walk. The only
thing that doesn't turn me on is the VISA bill. Cats demand cat food and cat
toys. My kitty-cat here demands champagne, caviar and very, very expensive
kitty-cat toys. She's not exactly low maintenance, but pedigree purebreds
need to be kept in tip-top condition. My little kitty-cat needs constant
care and attention. Fortunately, there's just no better way to spend a day
than giving her a good grooming, if you know what I mean.
Today's new toy is that riding crop. She's got a dozen, but just had to have
this one. When she rides, her hair flying out, she loves to urge her mount
on with just the tip of the crop, not too hard, just the right sting to make
her point. When I ride her, I like to do the same.
It's that day again. The VISA bill has landed and I have to play up how much
she costs me. It's a game of course, we both know it, but where would be if
we didn't play it? My kitty-cat likes to play, and she only plays with me.
The game today is "HOW much???!!???". "HOW much did that silk catsuit cost?
HOW much did that crop cost? Do you think I'm made of money? We'll be
She looks apologetic. It's a brilliant act. She says she's sorry. Neither of
us believe her. She says she'll make it up to me. We both know I won't let
The game today is "HOW many???". How many strokes to make up for the money
The price today is one stroke of the crop per hundred bucks she's burnt.
Let's start with kissing the whip. Let's see if we can turn her pretty
backside a colour to match her catsuit. Though she's spent so much, it'll
take all week to lay on enough strokes. We don't really mind how long it
takes, my kitty-cat and I. We have until death do us part.